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secretomoact

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Everything posted by secretomoact

  1. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt, "While Baking". *** River, Duncan and Hugo couldn’t cook. At all. River could manage instant stuff— TV dinners, ramen, bacon… So long as the process was ‘just stick this into something until it’s hot enough’ he could do it. But, anything with actual steps, actual ingredient preparation… He couldn’t do it at all. It had to be simple and fast, or else River would find SOME way to ruin it. When Hugo had first started getting sick, River had tried to prepare a steak for him. Somehow, he’d managed to burn the insides of it while leaving the outside completely frozen— Which Hugo had said was “almost impressive”. River had just never had a chance to learn how to cook, though. Growing up, his parents had insisted knives and ovens were too dangerous for a kid, which he supposed was understandable. Then, they’d kicked him out as a teenager and his meals consisted of whatever he could find in dumpsters, or fast food burgers if he was lucky. Next, he’d moved in with Hugo, a man who ALSO had no idea of how to cook, which made any attempt at learning into an exercise in futility. And, back then, both of them had been too busy going out and DOING stuff to learn a new skill. River wasn’t going out and doing ANYTHING anymore… But, that could have silver linings. He had lots of time on his hands, lots of time to learn how to do something new. Maybe he could finally figure out how to prepare something edible that DIDN’T come straight out of a package. River had been feeling rather useless lately. Getting terrified during his first real outing, getting sick right after, his newfound urinary difficulties… He used to be utterly self-sufficient, and now he couldn’t even take a leak by himself! Hugo kept telling him over and over that he WASN’T useless now. “You still help me make the furniture in the workroom— THAT part is way more important than coming with me to deliver it. And, you comfort Duncan all the time, you give BOTH of us company, and— For God’s sake, River, if it weren’t for you, the Cancer would have killed me! You saved my life, and if YOU’RE the one who needs to be taken care of now, that’s fine.” But… River wasn’t SUPPOSED to be taken care of. That was the problem. He’d been on his own since he was sixteen… He’d handled EVERYTHING himself. He’d scavenged for food, patched up his clothes, fought battles ALL by himself. Now suddenly feeling so needy, so desperate for protection… This wasn’t how he was SUPPOSED to be. So, if he could just learn to do something new for himself, he was sure he’d start feeling less like a clingy, dependent little child. Christmas was coming up soon. It would be his first one since the Organization, and he knew it was bound to feel different. Even if he’d basically skipped Christmas a few years in the past, this was still going to feel different. It would be his first one with Duncan too, though. His first Christmas where he had a boyfriend. And his boyfriend was going to be struggling this Christmas just much as he was… He didn’t know how Duncan had spent the holiday in the past, but he was sure he must have actually gone somewhere— At the least, he hadn’t spent it feeling scared and anxious. River wanted to make this Christmas feel as normal as possible, and one of the things he remembered from when he was little were Christmas cookies. Those couldn’t be TOO hard to make, right? He could bake some and share them with Duncan and Hugo, and then Christmas could be sort of normal and River could feel sort of useful! River was determined to do this entirely on his own— He shouldn’t need anyone’s help with something so simple! First, he needed to find a recipe. In the past, this would have been very easy to do; He would just need to go online and search for one. But, he no longer had Internet access. The Organization was very tech-literate, and even so, tracing a person’s location through the Internet wasn’t difficult, it happened all the time. Going online was too risky when a group of violent killers desperately wanted to know where he was hiding. Of course, recipes were being shared way before the Internet existed. He just needed a cookbook, but there weren’t any in the cabin. Come to think of it, there probably weren’t any cookie ingredients here, either. That evening, he asked Hugo to buy him those things— Which, he told himself again and again, was NOT the same thing as asking for help. He was STILL going to make the cookies by himself, he just needed someone else to get the stuff for him. A few days later, River had everything he needed. Hugo had gone out to get more furniture building supplies, and Duncan was resting in bed. Hopefully, once Duncan woke up, River would have a batch of delicious cookies waiting for him. River opened the used cookbook Hugo had bought, and found instructions for making sugar cookies. He could understand most of the ingredients, like flour eggs, vanilla and sugar. But, some confused him. First of all, he had no idea what margarine was. Second, he couldn’t figure out why a sweet recipe would call for salt. But, he LIKED salt and was always craving it, so he wouldn’t skip it. He looked into the fridge and pantries to confirm Hugo had gotten everything, and he had— Apparently margarine was basically just butter? Why did it need a fancy name? First, he was supposed to mix the ‘dry’ ingredients into a bowl. He didn’t know which those were, so he just guessed and hoped he’d gotten it right. He poured in a lot of flower— More than he’d intended to, because when he’d tried to open the bag he’d accidentally ripped it a little down the side, and then when he’d held it over the bowl, a lot of it had come rushing out. Worried that this would make the cookies come out too dry, he thought maybe he should… put in… extra eggs? Maybe? Eggs were wet, sort of… He added baking powder, and then the salt. Since he liked salt so much, he put in a few extra shakes. And after that he was supposed to put the sugar and the margarine into another bowl, with the vanilla and the eggs. He was able to handle the first three things just fine, but then he realized he’d never actually cracked open an egg before. He’d just never cared much for their flavor unless they were cooked into something. On his first attempt, he smacked the egg against the bowl too hard, and its contents all spilled onto the counter as its shell disintegrated. So, he tried to go more slowly with the next one, but then he’d barely made a dent in it. When he’d tried to pull it open the rest of the way by hand, bits of the shell ended up in the yolk, and he couldn’t use that one either. It took him three more tries before he was able to actually add an egg to the mixture, and then another two tries before he could add a second. Finally, he poured that bowl into the first one with the flour and mashed it all together with his hands until it sort of started to look like dough. He put the mixture into the fridge to cool off, and felt very proud. He was finally doing things for himself again! He was certain the cookies would turn out great! As River waited for the dough to chill, he realized how thirsty he’d gotten and had a couple glasses of water while he sat on the couch and read some of his manga. He was so excited to see Hugo’s reaction when he found out River had actually cooked something! He kept thinking about that as he retrieved the dough from the fridge and rolled it out. It was a whole lot stiffer than it had looked, and it was hard to press down on it enough that it actually went flat. Then it struck him that he’d forgotten something. He didn’t have any cookie cutters. He’d been imagining himself presenting Hugo and Duncan with little Christmas tree shaped treats, but without anything to cut them out with, he was just going to end up with this big, flat disk… The only things he had that could possibly slice through the dough were the knives. He didn’t think he could cut decent looking trees with those, but he gave it a try anyway. He mostly wound up with jagged triangles that varied drastically in size. A few were just random shapes that didn’t resemble anything from this planet. He reminded himself that they’d STILL taste good no matter how awful they looked. He got them onto a tray and checked the recipe book again to see how to bake them. It told him the temperature to set the oven at, but NOT how long to cook them for— He hadn’t noticed earlier, but the corner of the page had been torn. He had no IDEA how long the cookies were supposed to stay in the oven for. Did he just have to guess…? No, that was a terrible idea. If he kept them in there for too long, they’d burn to a crisp— He could even set the cabin on fire! Guessing would NOT work. Instead, he’d just stand there and WATCH them cook, and… And check on them every couple minutes until it looked like they were ready. That was a MUCH better idea! He decided not to set the oven to 375 degrees like the book said, that sounded like it would cook them super fast, faster than he’d be able to react to. 100 degrees would do fine, probably. It would just take longer, but he’d have the time to really gauge how they were coming along. He set the cookies inside and closed the door. He could sort of see them through it, but he was still going to need to open it to really get an idea of how it was working out. River watched the clock on the wall, and once a minute had gone by, he opened the door. He was immediately blasted in the face with heat, and the cookies looked completely raw, so he swiftly closed it. River was about to grab another glass of water, when a nudge inside his belly warned him not to. Whoa, when had THAT happened? River hadn’t felt the urgency creeping up on him, but now he was acutely aware of a rapidly building need to pee. The humming in his midsection was enough to make him tense his thighs. Just great. The SECOND he was no longer able to leave the kitchen, River suddenly realized that he actually had to be in the bathroom instead. This was fine. He doubted the cookies would take THAT long to bake, he could definitely hold it, no matter how uncomfortable he may feel doing so. When another minute ticked by, he opened the oven again and, frowning, closed it when the bits of dough still had yet to form into something that appeared edible. The main issue now was that, since all River was doing was standing around and waiting, he had little else to think about other than his bladder. Thinking about needing to pee was always a guaranteed way to ensure that he’d have to do it a whole lot worse. He considered running back to the couch to get his manga, just so he’d have something to focus on that wasn’t his bladder. But, what if the cookies burned in the minute it took him to grab it? Or, he got too absorbed in it and forgot about them? The oven right now needed his complete, undivided attention. It was bad enough that he had his bladder as a distraction from his task, he didn’t need anything else. Wow, his bladder was a MAJOR distraction, though. He was crossing his legs against sharp spasms before too much time had passed. He cursed himself for those two big glasses of water. Whatever had he been thinking? He knew how small his bladder was, he knew all that fluid would flush through his system quickly. He just hadn’t known that he’d get trapped in the kitchen. His middle ached with cramps. To get to the toilet, he’d just have to go back through the living room and around a corner. It was so close! It would take him less than a minute to get there, unzip his fly and rid himself of all the water he’d stupidly consumed. But, a minute was probably long enough for the cookies to char into hard, black disks. He told himself to hold it and opened the oven door a crack once more. Still didn’t look ready… He fought back a groan that surely would have woken Duncan up as he stumbled backwards and bobbed on his heels. He swore he could hear the fluid sloshing when he moved. It could have been his imagination, supplying sound-effects to the awful feelings of his pee bouncing around in his bladder, but it sounded so real he thought it could be genuine. “Shit…” River breathed out, leaning into the counter and gripping its edges. “Shitshitshit…” for some reason, muttering curses to himself was taking the edge off of his need. He crossed his legs, ankles and knees joining together to fight the waves of urine knocking at his exit. “I need a fucking piss, fuuuck…” He told himself he was being overly dramatic. He’d been WAY more desperate than this before, and he’d made it out fine. The day in the woods had been atrocious, then that awful ride home from the mall, and he’d very nearly exploded the morning the bathroom door hadn’t come open. All of those times, he’d managed to hold it… Mostly. He’d hold it again today, he hadn’t even sprung any leaks yet! As if he’d tempted fate with that thought, a powerful surge welled up inside of him and, before he could react, he felt heat slick its way down his length and then dot his boxers. He released his hands from the counter and flung them between his legs instead in one quick motion. “Ahhh— No, come on… Christ’s sake, River, you can’t fucking piss your damn pants in your own house!” He curled over on himself, squeezing tightly. “Toilet’s right around the corner, get a fucking hold of yourself!” His hands tightened themselves around his dick, reminding him that he already HAD gotten a hold of himself and that it wasn’t helping as much as he’d like for it to. He let himself stay there in his cramped, huddled position for a few more seconds, before he made himself slowly hobble forwards to the oven again. He opened the door, saw that the cookies were starting to change color and get darker, which he took as a sign that he was nearing the end of his torment. “Hurry…” he mumbled. “Hurry up, I need to go piss so fucking badly…” He inched away from the oven, and when his bladder gave another agonizing lurch and he felt something inside him starting to go terrifyingly loose, River dropped onto the floor and pushed his foot hard into his groin. He wrapped his hand around his foot, pressing against it more desperately, wriggling his hips and doing his best to think of something that was very, very dry. “Oooh… Fuckfuckfuck… I gotta—“ River bit down hard on his lip. “Pr—Pretend you’re in a desert…” he huffed out, exhaling heavy, choppy breaths. “Th—There hasn’t been water here in— In fifty years, s—so nobody ever needs a piss… Th—They don’t know what pissing is here. Pissing is a myth, and you don’t gotta do it…” His nonsensical babbling did nothing to sway his bladder, did nothing to convince it that it wasn’t actually over-stretched and coming apart at its seams. Another drip seeped out to heat the area around his dick. “Don’t gotta go…” he muttered. “Don’t gotta go… Don’t gotta go…” He kept rocking back and forth. He kept chanting to himself that he didn’t actually need to use the restroom. He kept trying his hardest to convince himself that if he just SAID it enough times, the liquid inside of him would miraculously vanish and he would no longer have to endure its pleas for freedom. He even started trying to think of some way he could empty himself without leaving the kitchen— A way that didn’t involve just giving up and soaking his pants. There were the bowls he’d used to mix the dough, they were pretty big. They would be MORE than enough to contain everything River was holding back. He dragged himself back onto his feet. Now incapable of standing up all the way, he waddled half-hunched over back to the oven. He opened it slightly, the cookies were just starting to crisp. A few more minutes, and he was sure they’d be ready. But, a few more minutes was something River’s bladder didn’t have. He jiggled his way to the counter where he’d left the bowls. They still had some residue left over from all the ingredients, and he momentarily wondered if the baking powder would react to his piss in any way. ‘Will it fizz up, like with vinegar?’ Not that it mattered, River was about to relieve himself and he was going to feel so wonderful… He set the bowl down on the floor and unzipped, freeing his member before crouching down over the bowl. A little drop was already collecting at his tip, it plinked into the bowl and he shut his eyes, inhaling deeply, telling his muscles that it was time to let it all go. No sooner had he started to trickle and the first sensations of relief were massaging through his abdomen, did River have to clench up and STOP everything. “River…?” Duncan yawned. “What are you doing?” River’s eyes flew open at the exact same time his floodgates slammed shut. His bladder burned with the need to keep emptying, but Duncan was standing RIGHT there at the entrance to the kitchen, staring as River held his dick over a big bowl crusted with dough, staring as droplets of impossible to hold urine fell into it… “I— I have to go really, really bad…” River said, as if that was both NOT incredibly obvious and actually a decent explanation. “We have a toilet, remember?” River squeezed down hard on his cock, trying to keep anything else from coming out. Having to stop mid-flow like that had sent his body into such a major frenzy that, in spite of his embarrassment, he refused to put his member back away, refused to stop hovering it over the bowl. He felt so threateningly close to gushing uncontrollably, that he HAD to keep a container there just in case, no matter how humiliating his current position looked. “Can’t use it… Have to make sure the cookies don’t burn.” “River—“ “The book didn’t say h—how long to leave them in…” River explained, his statement punctuated by two seconds of hissing as piss involuntarily sprayed into the bowl. “S—So, I’m watching, and I can’t lea—“ “This place is really small,” Duncan said. “If you’d just yelled my name, I would have woken up and come to see what was going on.” River hadn’t even considered that, but now that he was he didn’t see how it was a good idea. “You would have been scared if, all the sudden, I was shouting.” “True, but if you’d shouted ‘Duncan, come here, and don’t worry, I just need to pee!’ Then, I wouldn’t have been scared at all.” River pinched the tip of his dick, it hurt but it was helping keep his liquids at bay for now. “S—So? What would t—telling you even do?” Duncan was staring again. “I would have watched the oven while you peed…?” Deep down, River had known that was always an option. If this had happened BEFORE the Organization, he would have had no trouble calling someone else to take his place. He would have weighed his options, accepted that it was an emergency and that it would be more embarrassing to have an accident or piss into a bowl than it would be to ask for help. He would have made the right choice. But, this was AFTER the Organization, and AFTER the Organization, asking for help was the hardest thing in the world sometimes… It was a reminder that he’d changed, that he wasn’t as tough, as gritty, as self-sufficient as he’d once been. It was a reminder that, now, he was scared, paranoid and in constant need of comfort and assistance to make it through each day. He thought the worst thing about it was how he actually LIKED having someone else do things for him, the warmth that flooded his chest every time, like it was filling in hollow spots that had been part of him for so long that he’d stopped even noticing they were there… He wasn’t supposed to need help, he wasn’t supposed to enjoy being cared for, he was supposed to do everything himself and never burden others with his existence and needs… “Can you get up and make it to the toilet?” Duncan asked. “If you can’t, that’s okay, just… Just keep using the bowl, I guess…” River forced himself up, squeezing his tip with all his strength. He could feel inside his dick already, knew if he removed his hands, removed that barrier, it would be gushing out. He tried to move forwards, but just collapsed back down on his knees, shaking his head frantically. “Okay… That’s fine…” Duncan said, kneeling next to him. “Bowls can be washed, go ahead and finish…” River released his hold on his dick, immediately letting his stream continue spraying into the bowl. His hands moved to grip Duncan instead, holding tightly onto his shirt sleeve as he shook from the humiliation. Duncan rubbed his back, trying to look at River’s pinched, scrunched up face so that he could discern WHY he was still so tense even though he was finally urinating. Duncan’s eyes kept dragging back to River’s dick instead, though. The memory of the one time he’d held it still fresh in his mind. It had been so thick and warm, it had felt good in his hand. Duncan wished he could see and touch it when it WASN’T gushing out piss, he wished he could see what ELSE it could do, but the sight of it now was still VERY welcome. Duncan forced himself to stop staring. He’d get to play with River’s cock someday… He hoped soon. What was more important was the look on River’s face. He was flooding the bowl, but he didn’t look satisfied at all. “What’s the matter?” “I’m s—sorry…” River choked out, shaking more. “I couldn’t hold it…” “That’s okay,” Duncan told him again. “You’re fine, you’re not having an accident.” The last of River’s urine seeped out, but he still didn’t move from his position. He kept shaking. “I’m… I’m so… I’m embarrassed. This was stupid, I should have asked for help, even though it feels…” Duncan helped River up now and River finally zipped up his pants. “Does asking for help feel bad…?” “It— It feels good and bad,” River said. “I don’t know how to explain it. I… I like when you or Hugo take care of me, but… I shouldn’t.” “River, I’m your boyfriend,” Duncan pointed out. He stepped over to the oven and opened it. “And Hugo’s… Like… Pretty much our Dad, or something.” The cookies looked fine, if a little dark. He pulled out the tray, turned off the oven. “It’s our job to take care of you.” He set the tray onto the table, and stared at the shapes. He had no idea what any of the cookies were supposed to be, but they’d probably still taste nice and sweet. “Who says you shouldn’t like it?” “I… I’ve always just been… It’s been ME,” River said. “On my own since… A long time. Even before they kicked me out, my parents were so disgusted by me, they could barely stand to hug me or anything, and then… Then I was on my own on the streets, and I took care of myself, and when Hugo found me, I was working so hard so he’d know I was useful, and now I’m NOT useful anymore, I just get scared and want to be held, and that’s not how—“ “No,” Duncan interrupted. “You STILL help out in the workshop, you literally SAVED this man’s life— You saved MY life from the Organization, and you’ve saved YOURSELF from lots of things… You think you’re useless now just because you stay inside and need hugs? Your parents threw you out when you were sixteen, right?” “Yeah…” “So, ever since then, your life’s been this nonstop battle, and when you weren’t just trying to survive, sounds like you were going above and beyond working for Hugo, and then all the stuff we went through together… You need a BREAK.” Duncan held out his arms. “Come here…” he said. River leaned into him, nuzzling his cheek against his shoulder. Duncan put his arms around him, stroking his back gently. “Just, LET yourself be taken care of sometimes, okay?” “I’m sorry…” “Don’t be, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Duncan said. “Let’s wash that bowl and see how the cookies came out.” Once the bowl was emptied and cleaned out, River sat at the table beside Duncan. Duncan took a bite of one of the cookies, and his eyes widened. “They’re terrible,” River said. “You hate them.” “They’re good,” Duncan said. “They’re sweet, just kind of hard and… River, did you put SALT in them?” “The recipe said to!” “Okay, okay,” Duncan assured. “They’re not bad, I like them. You’ve never baked anything before, so you did a good job. Next time, less salt?” “Okay,” River said, reaching for another of the cookies, but Duncan stopped him, grabbed one himself. Duncan held the cookie out, “Open wide,” he said. River blushed and turned his head away. “Duncan, seriously?” “Come on…” “I can feed myself just fi—“ “Let someone take care of you,” Duncan reiterated. “Open.” River rolled his eyes, opened his mouth. Duncan held the cookie there and let him take off a bite. He chewed it slowly. Duncan was right, it was harder than sugar cookies he’d had in the past had been. The vanilla flavor was strong, and the sugar was too, with more than a hint of the salt. He actually liked the extra saltiness, but could understand why Duncan would want it toned down. He swallowed. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t TOTALLY fuck it up,” he said. Duncan nodded, “Next time, just less salt, a little softer, and don’t pee in the mixing bowl.”
  2. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "While putting up lights." *** James was going to have such an awesome surprise for Ethan once he came home! Just last night, Ethan had been talking about how much he loved Christmas decorations, how much he enjoyed big light displays, how he’d never been able to make one of his own because every time he tried, he got so scared up on the roof that he just gave up… But, James didn’t get scared of heights at all, so he was going to put up ALL sorts of fun lights, and when Ethan came home from the store and saw them, he’d be so happy, and James could see him smile, and his chest would feel so warm and fuzzy… Things had gone wrong, though. He’d gotten all the lights where they were supposed to go so far, and they all worked. The display was coming out exactly as he had been picturing it. But, he had still made a couple very crucial mistakes. First, he’d decided that it would be a good idea to drink a big mug of eggnog to get into the holiday spirit. Then, he’d been SO excited to start working on the lights for Ethan, that he’d skipped using the bathroom before coming out here. THEN he’d managed to drop his house keys somewhere out here, had NO idea where they were, and couldn’t get back inside without them. Thanks to his PREVIOUS two mistakes, James SERIOUSLY needed to get back inside! It had been a couple hours since his last toilet break, already pushing the limit of what his little bladder could manage. He’d searched all over the ground and the roof for his keys, but they couldn’t be found anywhere! It had been steadily snowing ever since he’d left the house, and he could only assume that they must have gotten BURIED somewhere. With no clue of where to start digging, James was just stuck out here, his bladder brimming, unable to relieve himself until Ethan got home and opened the door. James bounced in place from his spot on top of the roof. It had gotten harder to set up the lights, untangling all the strings took focus, and he couldn’t concentrate when all he wanted to do was pee. He kept thinking about climbing back down the ladder and writing his name in the snow. He had to go so badly that he thought he might have enough urine in him to write his FULL name before he ran out. He knew that was the best thing for him to do now. It was okay to pee outside if it was an emergency. He was locked out of his house, he was desperate, he didn’t have much choice! The only real problem was that he didn’t have anything to hide behind as he went. All the leaves were gone from the bushes, and the fence was wire and easy to see through. If he peed and someone saw, could he get in trouble for it? Even though he was doing it on his own property? He’d still be exposing himself… He decided to TRY to hold it, just in case someone WOULD get mad at him for peeing in his yard. If it got bad enough, he’d go down there and hope for the best. But, he could still wait a while longer, he could maybe make it until Ethan got home… When Ethan got home… James tried to focus only on that. When Ethan got home and saw all the lights, the big inflatable reindeer he’d set up on the roof, all the snowflakes hanging off the edges… Ethan would LOVE it all so much, and THAT was way more important than James’s bladder maybe being a little full. Ohhh, but it was a LOT full, stuffed to the brim with egg nog, bemoaning James for skipping his last bathroom break. It seemed as though his body wanted to PUNISH him for his negligence, for putting his excitement over its needs. His abdomen was pinching mercilessly, awful throbs ricocheting through his body as he sat there and tried to untangle another string of lights. He’d thought that having a task to focus on would HELP with his situation, he’d thought it would distract him from wanting to go, but it was so much more of a hindrance. With his hands busy, he couldn’t hold himself like he wanted to. He kept reaching down for quick, firm squeezes that never lasted longer than a second, and they weren’t enough to satiate his need. They weren’t enough to quell the raging fires in his midsection that demanded he grab his crotch and never let go again. It was also hard to FOCUS on getting the string apart when the only thoughts in his head were all related to urinating. ‘Ohhh, I need to go pee! I wanna go inside and pee! I wanna tinkle now!’ He kept accidentally re-tangling parts of the cord he’d already un-knotted, and eventually his chest was getting warm in a way that WASN’T pleasant and he shoved the cords to the side, breathing heavily. He tried to calm back down. He tried to remember the last time he’d gotten so frustrated… Anger was hard to come by for James, even times when he knew he SHOULD have felt angry, he was always quick to forgive instead. The war being waged inside his body as he was forced to continually ignore the call of nature didn’t allow him much space for forgiveness. He forgot about the lights for a second, just doubled over on himself and held his crotch as tightly as he could. His legs twisted together, coiling around one another. Whyyyyy did he have to lose his keys?! If he could just find them again, none of this would be happening! He would have peed ages ago, and he’d be feeling perfectly fine! He couldn’t take it any longer! His bladder was simply too full to bear, and he had to do SOMETHING about it. He still didn’t think it would be a good idea to relieve his burden outside where someone could see, but perhaps he could find another place to do it. He had to get down from the roof FIRST, though. Grimacing, he braced himself for what was sure to be a VERY uncomfortable climb back down the ladder. He slowly inched his way to the edge of the roof, hands still wrapped around his length. He squeezed himself extra tight for a moment, not wanting to let go, but knowing he was going to have to. He lowered himself onto one of the rungs, and forced his hands away from his dick so that he could grip the ladder instead. Immediately, his bladder was pounding, liquid sloshing at his now unprotected gate. He whimpered as he slowly made his way down. His heart slammed around in his chest, adrenaline begging him to move faster, but he felt like he was balancing an overflowing jug of water on his head as he climbed. Moving too quickly, moving just slightly in the wrong direction, would make him spill it all over himself. Once on the ground, his hands instantly flew back down between his legs and he doubled over, stomping his feet into the snow. Ohhh, he just wanted to do it right where he was! He looked around, and didn’t see anybody out here that could spot him. He couldn’t get in trouble if no one was around to watch! One hand moved flinchingly out from the crease of his thighs, taking hold of his zipper. He peeled it down as quickly as he could, bladder cramping with harsh anticipation, a little squirt already flowing into his boxers faster than he could free his dick from them. He reached for it, but before his hand made it inside his boxers, a voice forced him to stop. His bladder took an extra second to catch up to him, releasing a few more threatening dribbles to warm up the material encasing his crotch. He turned around, trying to smile at the person whom had stolen his relief away at the last second. “H—Hello, Linda…” he said. Linda was the lady who lived next door to James and Ethan with her family. James liked Linda, and he liked her two children Wayne and Grant, but he and Ethan DIDN’T get along very well with her husband Gary, whom was one of the members of the homeowner’s association. Gary was always getting after them for their grass getting too tall, or their lawn ornaments ruining the ‘uniformity’ of the neighborhood. One time, they had overheard Gary talking to one of his friends about how ‘people who are like that’ didn’t belong in the neighborhood. James had been convinced Gary had only meant ‘people who like silly lawn art’, but Ethan hadn’t agreed with him. “There's a reason he doesn’t like us, and he STILL wouldn’t like us even if we got rid of ALL of the decorations.” James knew what Ethan was implying, but he wanted to give Gary the benefit of the doubt— Mostly because Linda was so nice to them, so he couldn’t believe her husband would REALLY be so awful. James was thankful that it had been JUST Linda who had nearly caught him pissing in his front yard. Gary would have probably GUESSED what he’d been up to and read him the riot act. Still, he wished that NOBODY had stumbled upon him just now, his bladder had been so certain that it was about to be drained, having to clamp back up right away like that had hurt terribly. His abdominal muscles were still twitching, trying to endure the strain. Linda looked up at the roof. “Wow, you’re doing a lot of decorating,” she said. James’s smile became more genuine. “Uh-huh, Ethan loves Christmas lights, so I’m gonna surprise him!” The bubbles of excitement built in his chest for a few seconds, but then they seemed to just plummet heavily down onto his bladder. He crossed his legs and hoped it looked like he was just fighting off a chill. “Do you want some help?” Linda asked. It was a nice offer, but James needed privacy now more than anything. “N—Not today,” he said. “I— I’ve almost f—finished it.” Tremors wracked through his body, making it difficult to speak. “Oh, you’re freezing,” Linda commented, no doubt mistaking his desperate stammering for his teeth chattering in the frigid air. “How long have you been out here?” ‘Too long,’ James thought. His bladder throbbed its agreement, and he quickly crossed his legs around in the other direction. “Um, a while,” he said. “And you’ve only got a sweater on,” Linda added. “Do you have anything warm to drink inside?” James shook his head. He and Ethan DID have warm drinks, but James couldn’t GET inside to grab any— Not that his body wanted more fluid now, anyway. “That’s alright,” Linda said. “Just come next door, I’ll get you some hot chocolate.” James nodded. Of course, she’d let him use the restroom while he was there, it only made sense. Even if she didn’t offer it to him, he only had to ask. His desperation would be resolved in just a few minutes. “O—Okay,” he said. “Thank you!” It wasn’t that easy. As soon as James had entered Linda’s house, both her kids had run up to him, waving excited hellos. This was fine, but it did make it a little harder to walk since they were always underfoot. “Boys,” Linda said. “Let Mr. Willow through.” James didn’t correct her, didn’t tell her that he and Ethan weren’t actually married yet. ‘We really should get around to that, anyway…’ he thought. He wanted to ask for the toilet immediately, but was fearful of seeming rude— And he didn’t particularly WANT Linda and her kids to know that he was having an emergency. They’d be able to tell if he said he had to go right away. He could wait a few more minutes, until it felt more natural to ask. When Linda had gotten him to the kitchen, something happened that told him he might be waiting a while. Gary was already at the table, sipping from a mug. And, he didn’t look happy to see James… “Linda, please don’t invite people in without asking me first.” “He’s only going to have a quick drink,” Linda said. “And, you didn’t say one word when Ashley was here earlier.” “That’s different,” Gary said, like it should have been obvious. James stood awkwardly in the entrance. He felt funny now, there was pressure coming from places that WEREN’T his bladder. James knew Ashley, and she had funny lawn ornaments, too. Sometimes, her grass got tall… The very things Gary was always complaining to Ethan and James about. But, having her around was still ‘different’ for some reason, he was apparently still willing to welcome her… Linda didn’t say anything in response to Gary’s remark, and the kitchen became suddenly very quiet. So quiet James thought he could hear the liquid swishing around in his bladder. Gary was looking at him, and he badly wanted to hold himself again. It was so hard to resist the urge, the tension in his core like a siren, trying to coax his hand over to his groin for a squeeze. He had a feeling that if he clutched at himself in front of Gary, something bad would happen. He just wasn’t sure what. “I— I was putting up Christmas lights,” he said, his knees turning in towards one another. “Linda thought I looked cold. That’s all…” He didn’t understand why he felt so much urgency to justify his presence in a place where he’d been invited. His knees rubbed together. Gary made a vague grunting sound and turned back to Linda. “What are you giving him?” He asked. “Just some hot chocolate,” Linda said. “Don’t worry.” As she set to work preparing it, Gary looked at James again. “Can you stop all that bouncing?” Gary asked. “I don’t want your shoes scuffing up my floor.” James hadn’t noticed he’d begun to jiggle around, and now that he HAD he found that he didn’t know HOW to stop. He’d managed to still himself for a second, but then his bladder would be squeezing itself so brutally that he’d start moving again. Finally, he managed to quell it by crossing his legs and tensing his thighs. “S—Sorry…” he said. “Right,” Gary said. He kept staring. “Aaand your fly’s undone,” he said. “Boyfriend never teach you how to dress yourself?” James felt all his blood rush to his face as he scrambled for his zipper and yanked it back up. His bladder gave a very confused throb, his midsection aching with surges. His body was angry at him for not peeing in all the time he’d had his pants open, and the sound of the zipper moving was just oh so enticing to his sore holding muscles. “S—Sorry,” he said again. He didn’t understand why Gary had sounded MAD at him for accidentally forgetting his zip, and the comment he’d made about it had been really odd, too… “You know, if you’re gonna invite yourself inside someone’s house, the least you could do is look decent,” Gary said. “Gary,” Linda said sharply. “I invited him. He’s our neighbor. Please, James, sit down.” James quickly did so, his waistband compressing into the taut, firm skin of his abdomen. It hurt, like he was being sliced into. It was bad enough that his expression twisted and a few more little drips came out. At least now, with the cover of the table, his hands were free to grip hold of his member and squeeze. This brought him some relief, but within seconds the urgency had built up to its full strength again. He had to ask for the toilet, at this rate, it was going to all come out and soak his chair and the floor. Gary would actually have a REASON to be angry if he did that! “Linda, I—“ Linda set a large mug filled with steaming liquid in front of him. “Here you go, let’s get you warmed up.” James stared at the enormous container of liquid he was now expected to pump into his body. The mug looked like it must have been twice the size of his entire bladder, and he was already SO full… He couldn’t fit all this in there! There wasn’t any room for it! Could he request the toilet now? RIGHT after he’d been served something? Probably not, right? He could… He could finish it, then go. It wasn’t like the chocolate would go directly from his mouth to his bladder the instant he’d swallowed it. He’d have time while it processed, he’d have time before all this made it through him and caused him to overflow. He reached for the mug with one trembling hand, unwilling to completely let go of his crotch. His hand was the only thing keeping everything at bay. James took a sip, swallowed it, and his bladder recoiled with a shudder as his clutching hand suddenly went warm. Just the KNOWLEDGE that he was putting more fluid into himself seemed to be enough to send his body into a frenzy. He shivered. “As soon as you’re done with that, I need you to leave,” Gary said. “I have things I was going to work on today.” “O—Okay,” James said. “I’d suggest you finish it quickly,” Gary added. “Gary, please…” Linda whispered. But, James agreed with him on this. The sooner he got his mug drained, the sooner he could get his BLADDER drained. He raised it to his lips again, and tipped his head back so he could take long gulps. It sort of burned his throat going down, and he didn’t taste it at ALL, but he didn’t care. He was finally going to get to pee! He set the mug down with a clink, which also set Gary off. “Easy, don’t scratch my table. There’s no way you could afford to replace it.” James’s newly freed hand snapped back down to his crotch and he bucked his hips against it. ‘Just a few more seconds,’ he told himself. ‘Please, hold on…’ He gently let go of himself, then pushed back his chair and stood. He crumpled forwards when his bladder lurched. One foot lifted from the floor, his leg twisting. “Ummm… Could I please—“ “Don’t move your chair like that!” Gary interrupted in a huff. “I’m sure you can’t afford to replace all the floors in this house, either!” “Gary!” Linda snapped. “He’s barely touched anything! I don’t understand why you were SO nice to Ashley this morning, and now—“ “Ashley didn’t try to scratch up our floor,” Gary said. James was startled by all the raised voices, a surge of pee pulsing into his boxers, enough now that they felt sodden between his thighs. “I— M—May I please—“ “I have to get to work,” Gary interrupted, and his tone told James there was no more room for discussion. Linda led him to the front door. He actually ALLOWED himself to squirm the whole way there, hitching his hips, tightening his thighs, shaking… He wanted Linda to NOTICE, to say “Oh, James, do you need to go to the bathroom?” To— To tell him he could use it now, but she didn’t. She just apologized to him; “I’m sorry if Gary made you uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he must not have slept well last night or something. I promise to have a talk with him tonight.” James didn’t care if Gary wanted to be a jerk. Gary could say every awful thing imaginable to him if he could just please, please go pee. He didn’t care about anything else, he just had to get all of this pee out of his body NOW… “Linda, I’m sorry, I—“ “It’s not your fault,” Linda interrupted. “I’m not sure WHAT causes these moods of his, but it’s nothing to do with you. I hope you have a good rest of your day, the lights you’ve been putting up really are nice.” James nodded, understanding now that his hope for relief was gone. He left the house, immediately being hit in the face by a frigid gust of wind. It made him shiver, and that made his bladder contract, and that made him pee a little into his pants again. He just… He had to get back to his yard. Had to try to go THERE again. Nobody would interrupt him this time, right? It would— It would be okay. It HAD to be okay, he was gonna have an accident if it wasn’t— He was HAVING an accident now! He hobbled to his yard as fast as he could, faced away from the street and tore his zipper back down— Why did Gary have to make him zip it up again? Undoing it a second time was costing him valuable seconds! His bladder kept screaming as he reached into his boxers, hand wrapping around his member and beginning to pull it ou— “Oh, wow!” He heard another voice and wanted to start crying, he couldn’t take any more interruptions, he couldn’t… But, then he realized it was Ethan’s voice and he felt better immediately. Squeezing his hand around his urethral opening, he sprinted over to his partner as he exited the car. “Ethan!” James gasped out. “Ethan! Ethan!” He was trying to say “Please unlock the door now, I’m peeing myself!” But was struggling to form any words that were more complex than his boyfriend’s name. “I— I—“ “You did all this!” Ethan finished for him, happily. He gestured to the roof, at all the lights dangling off it, at all the sparkling decorations. He pulled James into a hug, unknowingly strangling his full bladder. “I love it! I love you! This is amazing! Come on, help me with the groceries, and—“ “I dropped my keys, and now they’re buried under the snow, and I don’t know where, and I can’t get inside, and I need to tinkle right now!” James interrupted. Ethan released him, James stumbled back, doubled over, held himself as tight as he could with both hands as he stomped his feet frantically. This still wasn’t enough to keep surges of damp heat from filling his palms. “O—Oh!” Ethan said, hurriedly grabbing his own keys and helping James limp to the front door. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you… Poor thing! It’s alright, just a few more seconds!” He shoved the door open, but kept his arm around James’s shoulder, stabilizing him and assisting him the entire way to the restroom, all the while repeating to him that everything was going to be alright now. James kept peeing the whole time they were walking. Every step drew out a new trickle, and he could feel the liquid rolling down his legs. He was scared it was ending up on the floor too. Fluid started to seep from the corners of his eyes as well, he needed to go so badly that it was hurting him. It was really, really hurting him. Just as he started to think that he should just pee his pants to make all the pain stop, he felt his clothing being moved around, his hands being gently nudged away from his crotch, and another warm hand taking hold of his dripping member. “Shhh, shhh…” Ethan soothed. “Let it all go now, James… It’s alright…” James’s eyes cracked open, and he saw Ethan was aiming his penis for the toilet bowl, little drops continually beading up at the tip and plinking into the water. As soon as the sight of it registered to James, he let himself relax fully and waves were pouring out of him, making him shudder in a much more pleasurable way. “Ahhhhh….” He moaned. “Mmmm, thank yooooouuuu….” “Eheh,” Ethan smiled, carefully directing James’s stream for him. “No problem…” He reached his other hand curiously, hesitantly tapping his fingers very lightly over James’s lower abdomen, over his rapidly emptying bladder. James was barely aware of what Ethan was doing, but whatever it was it felt incredible, the loosening knots inside his core were now accompanied by a ticklish flutter that made him groan with pleasure. “Hahhh, ohhhh…” “Awww…” Ethan felt fluttery now too, happy that his experimental touches had been so well received. “Someone’s feeling good, isn’t he?” “So… good…” James agreed. In spite of his desire to savor this release for as long as he possibly could, his muscles were instinctively pushing down, trying to force all the liquid from his system. The result was an ear splitting hiss that was just barely overpowered by all his panting gasps and moaning sighs. His stream slowed down and then tapered off, a few stray droplets still seeping out every couple seconds. Ethan was still massaging his midsection, the soreness evaporating from all the gently touches. “All… All done…” he said. Ethan shook him off and tucked him back into his pants. He even went so far as to zip them up for him as well before kissing his cheek. “All better…” he said. “Everything’s okay now.” James felt the clammy dampness inside his boxers, and knew that not EVERYTHING was okay, but it ALMOST was. “Thank you…” he said again. Ethan gave him another kiss. “Thank you,” he said. “Got to come home to TWO nice surprises— The lights, and somebody to help.” “Well… That second thing wasn’t planned,” James said. “My keys are still missing.” Ethan started to laugh, “Wouldn’t it have been funny if you’d peed in the snow, and just happened to melt the part where your keys got lost?” James giggled, “Pfft, yeah! I kept wanting to go in the snow, but I was scared someone’d see, and then I got interrupted when I tried.” “When I got home? You could have just gone then…” “When you got home, and when Linda started talking to me— She had me over to drink hot chocolate, this whole big mug when I already had to pee so much! And, I kept trying to ask for the toilet, but Gary was there and he kept getting mad at me over NOTHING.” Ethan frowned now. “It… It wasn’t over nothing, James… Well, I mean— It WAS, but it also wasn’t…” He sighed. “Oh, I’m not making any sense, am I?” “Linda said he must not have slept well,” James told him. “But, she ALSO said he was nice to Ashley, so I don’t get it.” “James, Gary is… He’s the kind of person who doesn’t think two men should love each other.” “But, he’s never said so,” James reminded. “And he doesn’t call us bad names, or—“ “He doesn’t NEED to say it,” Ethan explained. “He shows it with his actions. Yeah, he’s never SAID why he dislikes us so much. But, he’s always treated us differently.” “Like complaining about our yard being ‘overgrown’ when lots of other people had let their grass grow even higher?” “Yeah, exactly like that.” “But, Linda’s so nice,” James said. “I don’t understand… How can she be—“ “Linda sees all of Gary’s good qualities,” Ethan said. “I’m sure he has them, and I’m sure he shows them to people that he isn’t prejudiced against. Linda loves him for those things and, sometimes, when we love a person, we don’t see their flaws. Sometimes, we’re in denial about them. Since Gary isn’t the type of homophobe that gets violent with anyone, or calls people slurs, it may be easier for her to ignore that he still holds a lot of those same views.” “Oh…” James said. “So, when he said ‘people like us’ shouldn’t be in the neighborhood, he really WASN’T talking about the decorations…” Ethan shook his head. “If we took them all down and suddenly had the most beautiful lawn on Earth, Gary would find something to complain about anyway.” James frowned. “I’m always nice to him…” “And that’s good,” Ethan said. “You should be nice to him. It isn’t your fault he’s acting this way, it’s his choice. And, unfortunately, being nice probably won’t change him, that has to be his choice too.” “Oh…” James seemed disappointed. “Well, I’m gonna be nice anyways.” Ethan nodded. He had a feeling James didn’t even KNOW how to be mean, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen James get mad. Even when someone hurt him, rather than anger, James just cried… He hoped James wouldn’t cry over this later. “Hey, let’s forget about him… Did you see the lights on HIS house? He’s just got one little string going around the roof, it looks pitiful. When it gets dark and we turn on all the ones YOU set up? People won’t even be able to SEE his house anymore.” James smiled, “Y—You really like them?” He’d been so frantic to pee when Ethan had gotten home, he’d barely registered the reaction. “I love them,” Ethan said. “I love YOU.”
  3. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "While ice skating." *** “Ethan, Ethan!” James exclaimed, running into the kitchen and waving a sheet of paper around. “Look! We should enter this, it will be so much fun!” Ethan turned around to face his partner. He’d sent James out to get the mail and, as had happened before, a piece of junk advertising had caught his attention more than anything that was actually important. He shook his head fondly and asked James what had gotten him so excited. “‘Pairs Figure Skating Competition’,” James read off the flier. “And, it’s happening tonight! Pleaaaase can we do it? It will be fun, I promise! We can wear costumes, and we might even win once they see how cute you are, and—“ “James,” Ethan interrupted. “I— I’m sorry, but there’s kind of a problem with that idea.” “Awwww, what?” “I have literally zero idea how to ice skate,” Ethan stated. “I’ve never done it before in my life. There’s no way I’ll be able to get good at it by tonight.” “Ohhhh,” James said, remembering now that he’d never actually SEEN Ethan skate, not that they’d ever gone to an ice rink, anyway. “Well, that’s okay. I bet they do this contest every year, so I can just start TEACHING you today.” “James, I’m… REALLY not very athletic,” Ethan said. “I don’t think I’m gonna be any good at this.” “That’s okay,” James said. “You don’t have to be great at it, I just want to try it with you.” He smiled so sincerely, and suddenly Ethan couldn’t protest the idea anymore. *** James stepped out onto the ice as he held both of Ethan’s hands. “Alright, we are going to do this real slow. First, you should practice falling!” “What? Why would I TRY to—Ah—!” Ethan immediately lost his footing and slipped to the hard ice as soon as his skates had touched the slippery surface. James knelt down and helped him back up. “You need to practice, ‘cause then you’ll know how to land without getting hurt real bad,” he explained. Ethan fell into him, holding himself up by wrapping his arms around James. “O—Okay, I’m okay…” “Good,” James said. “But, anyways, if you feel like you’re gonna fall, then you should bend your knees and let yourself fall forward onto your hands and knees.” James had Ethan do this a few times— Which was an easy feat since Ethan seemed unable to do anything BUT fall. One of the times he landed, Ethan felt a pang in his abdomen as his body lurched to the ice, and wondered if it might have been a good idea to use the restroom before doing this. It wasn’t like he needed to go that badly, he’d only JUST noticed that he had to pee at all! There was no reason to stop the lesson now, when he knew he’d probably just let out a little trickle. “Okay,” James said, taking Ethan’s hand once more and guiding it to the rail encircling the rink. “Now, just try to move real slow while you hold onto the side like this. I’ll stay right next to you— Have you ever tried roller blades before? It’s kind of the same motions…” “I— I had some of the ones they make for kids, I think… When I was really little,” Ethan said. “Those felt a lot more stable, basically just shoes you have to push along. I never had the kind where the wheels are all in a straight line down the middle.” “Alright, so you had roller SKATES, then. Those are different, and—“ “They ARE?” Ethan asked. “I never knew how anyone balanced on the other kind… And I don’t know how to balance with THESE on, either. I have no idea where to shift my weight, or— Whatever… If I let go of the rail right now, I’m gonna fall again.” Speaking of shifting his balance, his bladder was buzzing away and telling him to start doing exactly that. He didn’t DARE try to sway between his feet or jiggle his heels right now, though. His feet felt FINE and like they weren’t going to come out from underneath him, just so long as he didn’t move them at all! “Well…” James frowned, this was going to be trickier than he’d thought. Ethan didn’t have any comparable experiences to build off of. “So, you need to keep your knees relaxed, and turn your feet outwards a little, like this,” James nudged Ethan’s legs until he was standing correctly. Ethan’s fingers curled themselves even tighter around the rail. He felt so unsteady, like a newborn foal. And, it wasn’t that easy to ‘keep his knees relaxed’ when he was so worried about falling over, and starting to SERIOUSLY think it would have been a good idea to use the bathroom before starting with this! It was like all the anxiety he had about learning to skate was somehow converting itself into a liquid, and all of that liquid was being pumped into his bladder faster than he was able to react to it. At most, it had been ten minutes since the first twinges in his abdomen had become apparent, and it already felt so much worse. Instead of a buzzing tingle, it was a sharp, pulsating throb of tension. Once James had finished with this part of the lesson, Ethan would tell him he needed a pee break. Getting desperate out on the ice rink wouldn’t just be embarrassing, it would be downright dangerous. He was still able to resist the urging from within to fidget, but each pang became harder to ignore and his muscles ached with the desire to squirm away from the pressure. If he STOPPED being able to maintain his composure, he could easily injure himself with an involuntary leg cross or foot bounce. As soon as James was done here, Ethan would ask to go. He would not allow himself to get to the bursting point here. God, what if he broke his leg because he’d been unable to stop himself from pee dancing on the ice? He could already picture it! He’d fall over, hear an awful snap, and be unable to get back up again. If the pain and fright of that moment didn’t make him wet his pants, he’d have to keep laying there until the EMTs arrived. And, once they started helping him, he’d be SO desperate that he’d HAVE to say something, beg for one of those urine bottle thingies hospitals had, and USE it right where he was. They’d SEE how full he’d been when he filled the bottle, and be able to work out WHY he’d hurt his leg so badly, and he’d be humiliated. And, then he’d have to pay an enormous bill for the medical treatment, all because he hadn’t emptied his bladder when he should have! Well. That was the worst case scenario, anyway. It was one he wanted to AVOID, that was for sure. James, of course, had no idea about the catastrophe his boyfriend was imagining. “Now, you’re gonna want to put all your weight onto the foot you’re pushing off with, then as you go forward, you’re gonna move your weight onto the other foot. Then you bring them together, and do it again, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. Kinda like when you’re all squirmy from needing to pee!” Ethan’s thighs went tense at the mention of peeing, and his face went red at the volume of James’s voice. There weren’t many people here, certainly no one in ear-shot, but still! “James… Is that REALLY the best way that you could think of to explain it?” “Well, yeah,” James said. “You’ve never done any kind of real skating before, so I had to relate it to something you HAVE done lots of times!” “O—Okay….” Ethan said. Maybe this was a good thing? If he was supposed to shift around like that, maybe it would help him hold it? It didn’t help him hold it. He had to spread his legs WAY far apart from one another, much too far for his bladder’s liking. All the strength it took to propel himself forwards took a lot of crucial energy away from his holding muscles, and his urine felt like it was being held in just as precariously as his feet were balancing. He kept squeezing the rail, wishing that he could squeeze his crotch instead. James was right beside him as promised, which made him feel safer, but he was dying to just tell him he had to go. His bladder was brimming, just a big heavy knot of need, and he couldn’t do ANYTHING to help it calm down unless he wanted to risk hurting himself. He made it to the end of the rink, and realized he didn’t actually know how to turn. Or stop. He could remember how he always stopped on the roller skates when he was a kid— Just leaning forward onto the little bumper on the toe. These skates didn’t have a bumper, he didn’t think… he tried this anyway, and a second later he was sprawled out on the ice, his hands stinging and his knees aching from the impact. But, that was nothing compared to what it had done to his bladder. The full organ felt like it had been tossed in circles, around and around the too small confines of his body, colliding against the walls with painful slamming lurches. A bright, white hot bolt of need shot through him and he became momentarily overwhelmed with the desire to just let it all out to make all the awful pressure stop. He barely had a second to process the true extent of his agony before he was suddenly peeing, a forceful jet hissing into his pants that took three seconds of frantically squeezing his dick to clamp off. Ah, this was bad. This was really, really bad… He needed a urinal in front of him NOW. James was beside him, “Ohhh, Ethan! I’m so sorry! I should have said how to stop! I forgot, I’m really sorry! I’m—“ “I—It’s okay…” Ethan managed to grunt out. He didn’t feel any actual pain from his fall anymore. All he felt were the horrific affects it had had upon his bladder. His opening kept trembling, his holding muscles fluttering and failing to stop another drop from warming his boxers. He kept thinking that, once the impact of the fall had finished radiating through his body, he’d be able to MANAGE himself again, but the blow had apparently been way too much all at once. His bladder REFUSED to settle down and he felt threateningly close to exploding right where he was. If he totally drenched himself now, would it melt the ice below him…? He didn’t THINK it would work that way, but the material of his pants felt so warm now that it wouldn’t surprise him. He needed to get OFF the ice as fast as he could, he wasn’t going to be able to hold his pee much longer, he was just BARELY holding it now. He could feel more heat collecting at his tip, rushing down his length. He felt his stream pressing right up against his floodgates. He just HAD to get to a bathroom before it managed to squeeze itself out the rest of the way. “Ethan…” James said, bending down now. “Are you really hurt? Do you need help standing up… It’s okay, I’ll— I’ll get you an ice pack, and you can sit down. Or— Or we could go home, and—“ “H—Help me up…” Ethan said, voice wobbling. “I— I need to—“ “You need to sit down somewhere,” James finished. Ethan didn’t need to sit down, unless it was on a toilet seat… “I—“ “Okay, here…” James took Ethan’s hands in his own, slowly helped him to his feet. Not slowly enough. Ethan’s bladder surged, cramping hard and pee ejected itself into his clothes so quickly that he could hear it hissing. Instinctively, his brain not even processing it, not even acknowledging it, not even reminding him that it was a bad idea, Ethan’s legs crossed together. The sharp blade of one of the skates cut into his ankle, and his balance went totally haywire, causing him to crash hard into James whom was barely able to catch him and keep him upright. THAT impact was enough to draw out another spurt, and then the pain of the slice in his ankle hit him and he was whimpering. “E—Ethan!” James said, panicked as he rubbed Ethan’s back. “Are you alright? Do I need to— Where does it hurt? Tell me?” “M—My bladder…” Ethan mumbled miserably into James’s shoulder, clinging to him. “Huh?” James asked. “I… I didn’t—“ “My bladder hurts,” Ethan repeated. “James, I need to pee so bad…” “O—Oh!” James said. “You didn’t twist your ankle, or—“ “I d—don’t think so,” Ethan said. “I just— Please, I really have to use the restroom…” James continued stroking his back. “Okay, okay… Let’s get you to the toilet, then. Just have to…” He turned, seeing how far they now were from the rink’s exit. Ethan was… Not good at skating. It was his first try, and it was understandable that he was struggling so much. But, Ethan being both a total beginner at this sport AND on the verge of wetting his pants meant that it would be no easy task getting him off the ice now. “H—Hold onto me,” he said. “Keep holding onto me, I’ll try and get you out of here as fast as I can, I promise.” Ethan’s grip on James tightened, “H—Hurry…” he begged. James started to move across the ice, pushing Ethan along. Ethan was trembling in his arms, his entire body shaking. James could tell how much of a strain it was for him not to writhe. One of the hands Ethan had on his shoulder kept twitching, seemingly torn between clinging more firmly to James and reaching down to squeeze on his dick. Ethan finally had to hold himself when he felt more heat leaking out his tip. He felt less steady now, but his hand was the only thing plugging his bladder shut, the only thing making it so he could hang on until they were off the ice. They made it to the exit and Ethan had to hold Ethan tightly to keep him from getting too eager and running off. He still had the skates on, after all. “Easy… Easy now…” James said. “Step off…” Ethan did, now struggling to stay balanced on regular ground. His knees shuddered, and he gripped James’s arm with one hand while the other clamped onto his cock. “Just get the skates off now…” James encouraged. Ethan started to kneel to do exactly that, but immediately his bladder was being squished and crushed with a fervor that brought tears to his eyes. “James—“ James knew the problem immediately. “Okay, okay… Few more steps.” He helped Ethan maneuver a couple feet over to a chair, which he collapsed into. Finally more free to squirm, Ethan was doubling over and squeezing his crotch with both hands. His knees jiggled up and down and he fought not to let his legs cross again while the sharp blades were still attached to his feet. James started to unlace Ethan’s skates at lightning speed, but even with as quickly as he was moving, Ethan was huffing out pleas of “Hurry, hurry… Please hurry up…” The begging was absolutely adorable, the panicked rushes of need that James loved being able to draw from his boyfriend’s lips when they were at home. But, out here in public, where Ethan would humiliate himself if his bladder became too much to handle, those fuzzy feelings weren’t filling James’s chest. He just wanted to get Ethan all taken care of, wanted to make sure he made it to a toilet before he completely lost control. One skate removed, James moved onto the other one. Ethan was babbling out some barely coherent notion that he could “probably” hop on one foot over to the restroom now. James told him he’d fallen over ENOUGH for one day and that he’d be free to go in just a second. He pried the skate off of Ethan’s foot and Ethan shot straight up, both hands still clasped in front of himself as he bounced up and down. “Your normal shoes are back over—“ Ethan was already rushing off in a stiff-legged, panicked hobble. But, he wasn’t heading towards the lockers where they’d left their shoes. Instead, he was going straight for the sign directing him to the restrooms. He was aware that he was about to run into a public bathroom in just his socks, and he knew that would probably be one of the least sanitary things he’d ever done, but he did NOT have the time to get his shoes. It was a choice between risking stepping his socks into someone else’s piss, or risking wetting his own pants while in public. He knew which choice he liked better. He heard soft foot steps behind him and saw James was following him… Also in his socks… Though, he knew James wasn’t in any hurry to relieve himself at the moment. James DIDN’T have to pee, but the second he’d realized Ethan was so desperate to go that he was gonna do it without putting any shoes on, he’d known that he absolutely HAD to accompany him and see for himself what had been causing his partner so much discomfort. Ethan shoved open the men’s room door and stepped inside. Immediately, he felt the stickiness of the floor and was filled with a sense of revulsion. “Ahhhnn…” he muttered, scrunching his eyes shut as he moved further into the restroom. “Gross, gross, gross, gross…” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the texture of the ground below him. He just… He had to go. At least his feet weren’t BARE. He could get rid of the socks. He could freaking BURN them as soon as they got home, they didn’t matter. Peeing was all that mattered, fuck he had to pee… He got to a urinal, the floor now feeling even more disgusting. He could sense his socks sticking to the tiles and, while urinals always smelled a bit like piss, the scent seemed stronger to him now. He saw James take the urinal next to his, and tried again to forget how utterly grossed out he was as he unzipped his pants and took aim. Surprisingly, it actually took him a second to get over his nausea enough to start urinating. But, when he did, it came in a hard, pouring wave that got him moaning. The change in pressure beneath his navel was immediate, going from taut and agonizing to light and orgasmic as he finally let go. James released his own bladder, but paid little mind to his aim as he instead chose to watch Ethan’s tip erupt with a furiously hissing stream. Ethan’s release was so powerful that James swore it must have been echoing. “Awww,” he said. “You really DID have to go!” Ethan blushed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He loved when James made little comments like that after he’d just barely made it and, sometimes he even did that when they were in a public bathroom. It was a little embarrassing when it happened outside of their house, and Ethan was sure James only did it to see him turn red. “Eheh, yeah…” He decided to give James a little tease, too. “I feel sooo much better now, ahhhh….” He moaned and gave an exaggerated shiver of pleasure. Now it was James’s turn to blush. His own pee was already over, but he didn’t seem to have noticed. He kept standing there at the urinal, his pants still unzipped, as he watched Ethan continue to let it flow. “You did good at skating for your first time,” James said. Ethan’s blush deepened, and he pushed to try to speed up his stream, wondering when he was ever gonna finish. “Uh… I did?” “Yeah,” James said. “It was only your first time, and you did it while you had to pee SOOO bad! That’s super impressive!” Ethan felt the last of his urine seep out, and started to zip himself up. He buttoned his pants and turned away from the urinal. “Um… Yeah, I…. I needed that…” he said. “You said you’re not athletic,” James told him as they washed their hands. “But, you MUST be if you were able to skate at ALL when you had all that stuck inside your bladder.” He hugged Ethan, and started to rub his back again. “You’re a strong guy… You’re a good, strong boy…” “James… You know what’s gonna happen if you keep—“ “I don’t know,” James said. “What’s gonna happen if I keep telling you you’re a good boy? Something exciting?” “A—At least wait until we’re back in the car,” Ethan rushed out. “Okay? Just— Let’s go get our shoes and go to the car, and… You can say whatever you want to me once we’re there.” James kissed him. “Sounds fun…”
  4. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Free Choice". So, here's Kenneth needing some help with his coat. *** Kenneth was wearing an extremely thick coat overtop of his uniform, thermal undergarments beneath it, and warm woolen gloves on his hands. Yet, he was still shivering with cold. It had taken a lot out of him just to get out of bed that morning, he was so reluctant to leave his blanket and plunge into the frigid air beyond it. By the time he’d managed to get up, pee, and bundle himself into all of the Winter clothing he had, he was nearly late, which Bryce was quick to call out when he saw him. “S—S—Sorry,” Kenneth said, teeth chattering. Bryce stared at his shuddering body. “How the Hell are you STILL cold with all that on?” “I d—d—don’t kn—know,” Kenneth sighed, his breath clouding in the frigid air. “Wh—Why d—do I have to be at m—my post on Christmas, an—anyway?” He’d been hoping to spend the holiday cuddled under his blanket, with Dwight wrapped around him and warming him up— He definitely hadn’t wanted to spend it freezing to death outside. “Someone has to be,” Bryce said. “It’s not like I’m happy about working today, either.” He watched Kenneth twitch and shiver for a few more seconds, then groaned. “Ugh, you’re useless when you’re like this…” he said, holding out his canteen, which he’d filled with hot coffee. “Drink this, alright?” Kenneth took it into his own hand warily. He sniffed it, confirming that the liquid it was filled with WAS coffee. He was shocked, since Bryce had gone on-record before that Kenneth should never be allowed within fifteen feet of caffeine, lest it make him act even more obnoxious than usual. Kenneth had never actually HAD anything caffeinated before, and had no idea if it would even make him THAT hyperactive… “Y—You want me t—t—to drink coffee?” “Yeah,” Bryce shrugged. “Just this one time, if it makes you go all crazy and you start irritating me, then I’m banning you from it forever.” Kenneth frowned. “O—Okay…” he said. He took a sip from the canteen and swallowed it down, immediately feeling a bit warmer. The coffee tasted good too, which surprised him as he’d expected it to be super bitter— He never would have thought Bryce would put sugar in his coffee. He would have assumed that he’d drink it plain, even if he didn’t like it, just to prove how tough he was. “You like sugar…?” Kenneth asked, testing the waters. “Ah, no,” Bryce said. “When I grabbed it, I mixed it up with someone else’s. That’s the only reason I gave it to you. Because it’s too sweet.” Kenneth sighed, sipping again. He should have been able to anticipate the denials— Bryce would never admit that he liked sweet things, and he would DEFINITELY never admit that he’d given Kenneth something hot to drink because he wanted to make him feel better. Kenneth shouldn’t have even bothered asking, he should have known better, Bryce was always going to ‘pretend’ like that, Kenneth wishing that he wouldn’t wasn’t going to change a thing. Kenneth finished all of the coffee in record time, enjoying the flavor and desperate to heat himself up. He started paying very close attention to how his body felt. He was significantly warmer now that he’d filled himself with hot fluid, but that wasn’t the only change he was searching for. With as often as Bryce said that Kenneth should “never, ever, ever, ever” have any caffeine, because it would turn him into an “unstoppable prank machine that’s incapable of shutting up”, Kenneth half-expected the drink to have given him some sort of super-power. He knew it was supposed to make him feel more energetic, but that wasn’t happening yet. There were some tingles, though. A skittering sensation going up and down his arms, convening in his chest. It felt super weird. “Um, Paulson, your arm is shaking…” Bryce said. “Are you still cold?” Kenneth glanced to his side. His arm was twitching, a LOT. But, just his left one. That was weird, he didn’t normally shiver on just ONE side of his body. “I feel strange,” he said, and he could almost hear his own voice echoing in his ear from far away. Confusing him further, Bryce started to wave his hand around. It looked bizarre, like he’d sprouted extra fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Um… Six?” Kenneth guessed. Bryce’s brow furrowed. “Wait, have you actually been obeying me and never drinking coffee? Was that your first time?” Kenneth nodded, the motion making his vision twirl. “Ah… Fuck, and you just drank a ton of it so fast…” Bryce said. “Well, are you less cold, at least?” “Y—Yeah, I’m warm now,” Kenneth said. His teeth weren’t chattering anymore, but his mouth seemed to be… Twitching. It was very hard to form words, they seemed to want to come out quicker than he was actually able to say them. “I f—feel fine.” “You’re jumping around a whole lot…” Bryce said. Kenneth hadn’t realized he was jiggling. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “I feel g-g-good! Except, I think if I try to stand still, I’ll instantly die.” Bryce sighed, “Paulson, if you can’t handle caffeine, I will have to continue forbidding you from it. For your health,” he said. “Do try to calm down, and if you really CAN’T, let me know so you can go lay down.” Kenneth didn’t feel like laying down at ALL. He wanted to run laps, what a pity this wasn’t a day for a fitness exam! He could probably break all of his records! He’d run faster than ever, and he’d even be able to do a whole bunch of push-ups without wearing himself out! Yes, this is what he should do the next time he had to do the fitness test! He’d drink lots and lots of coffee so that he could do more push-ups than ANYONE, even Bryce! Then, he’d run so fast that he’d break the sound barrier, and The Leader would probably award him some kind of medal— Maybe two… He’d get ALL the medals. Oh, but Bryce wouldn’t let him have any coffee if he kept jumping around like he was now! He had to hold still, behave like energy wasn’t filling him up so thoroughly that it actually kind of hurt. Be still, be still, be still… He managed to restrain himself to just jiggling one leg as his hand tapped against his thigh, but it felt like millions of little ants were running around just beneath his skin and he wanted to hop around and run back and forth, sprinting off to— Kenneth suddenly found himself able to go still when he realized where exactly he wanted to sprint to. The buzzing energy was no longer the biggest thing on his mind, no longer the most obvious feeling flowing through his body. No, something else was taking center stage now. His bladder, which he hadn’t even noticed a few seconds ago, now ached with a serious need to be released. Where the Hell had THAT come from? He’d been fine! He hadn’t noticed the need creeping up until he just suddenly had to go super bad! And he’d pissed RIGHT before leaving his room too, which couldn’t have been more than an hour ago! How could he need to pee THIS badly again already? That only happened if he had an infection, and he didn’t THINK he had one. He hadn’t had to endure one of his more ‘extreme’ bouts of desperation recently, why would he have an infection now?! Whatever the reason, Kenneth had to pee badly, and it was getting worse at such an alarming rate that it sort of scared him. In the mere minutes since he’d first noticed it, his bladder felt like it had already stretched out further. He crossed his legs, reaching a hand to his mouth and accidentally covering his tongue in little bits of fuzz when he bit down on his gloved knuckles. Grimacing, he tore his hand away, shoved it into the pocket of his coat. He rocked back and forth on his heels. Since his need had taken him completely by surprise, he was having to fight hard to keep up with it. Shifting from foot to foot, he tensed his thighs together and wondered if Bryce would grant him a break this early into the day. His chest tightened, it would sure be embarrassing to say he needed to go so soon after his last toilet break… Bryce turned to look at him, eyes falling on the rapid shuffling of his feet. “Paulson, if you keep that up, you’re going to slip in the snow,” he said. “THIS is why I’d always been so worried about giving you coffee.” Oh. Right. That. Kenneth still had to prove to Bryce that he COULD handle the energy boost of a caffeinated beverage. All this jiggling and bouncing that his bladder was forcing him to do wouldn’t help there. In truth, he didn’t even FEEL the hyperactive tickling anymore— He was still dying to move around, but now it was for a completely different reason. “O—Okay,” he said, trying to still himself. As soon as he’d stopped squirming, his bladder was shrieking. His heavy coat was weighing down upon it, strangling it, adding pounds and pounds of pressure to a load that already felt too big. The waistband of his warm underpants was digging into his bladder as well, and then the belt from his uniform… Everything he had on was making it harder to hold his pee, and not being able to writhe was making it that much worse! To top it off, when he tried to give his crotch a quick squeeze while Bryce wasn’t looking, the many layers encasing his dick made it impossible to get a decent grip. When his hand pressed between his legs, he didn’t feel ANY relief because he couldn’t make proper contact. He caught his hand creeping back up to his mouth, and forced that to stop as well. He couldn’t chew his fingers, his gloves were in the way. He couldn’t squirm his legs, Bryce would think he was too hyper. He couldn’t hold himself, his clothes were too thick. All he could do to quell the pangs in his abdomen was tense his thighs up, and that simply wasn’t enough! Kenneth wanted to tell Bryce that he just needed to go, even if Bryce said he couldn’t leave, at least then he’d be able to move with Bryce knowing the real reason and NOT banning him from coffee for it. But, what if Bryce thought he was lying about needing a piss to excuse the jittery behavior? That was silly, wasn’t it? But, no… Bryce was aware Kenneth USUALLY had an iron bladder that took hours to fill up so thoroughly that he was unable to resist a pee-dance. Kenneth had JUST relieved himself, Bryce wouldn’t believe it if he said that he had to go again now! Biting his lip and squeezing his thighs together so tightly he felt a bit of a cramp, Kenneth told himself to wait just a little bit longer before he brought it up. Then, after he’d peed, he’d probably ask Bryce if he could go to the medical building, because something was obviously wrong with his bladder since it had filled itself up so much in such a short span of time. Bryce kept LOOKING at him too, so he struggled to find moments where he could sneak in a foot bounce or a cross of his legs. He was trapped beneath Bryce’s scrutinizing gaze, forcing his body to remain statue still in the face of a thundering pressure that pleaded with him to squirm for all he was worth. His upper body radiated with tension, while his lower half shook uncontrollably. His bladder was cramping painfully, heat searing around the base of his dick and, even in the coldness of Winter, it didn’t feel the least bit pleasant. It felt awful, the precursor to a leak that he was barely able to restrain. Bryce was paying more attention to Kenneth’s stance than he usually would. He was… Definitely NOT worried about him. The aching pull in his chest was NOT anxiety, it wasn’t anything of the sort! He didn’t care how Kenneth was feeling, or if his body was having a bad reaction to the sudden influx of tons of caffeine after a lifetime without the smallest taste of it. He wasn’t concerned if it was making his head hurt, or his heart beat so rapidly that it was panicking him. He didn’t care. He was only watching for such signs because, if Kenneth didn’t handle caffeine well, he needed to be kept away from it from now on so that it wouldn’t effect his work. That was all. Bryce was ONLY focused on how it affected Kenneth’s performance, nothing else. Kenneth DID seem to be having trouble, perhaps his body was overly sensitive to caffeine, or maybe he’d had too much for his first try, but he didn’t look like he was doing too well. His eyes kept darting around, and he was sweating profusely in spite of the freezing temperatures. He was obviously trying his best to hold still, but he looked like he was vibrating and every so often he’d give a few quick bounces. He half-wondered if Kenneth was going to need medical attention, for all he knew the guy might be having some kind of allergic reaction. Bryce watched as Kenneth’s hands fluttered around his body, first moving to his waist and tugging at his coat, then up towards his face before he yanked them back down again. He’d only seen Kenneth look quite this uncomfortable when he badly needed to visit the restroom. But, he was certain Kenneth had done that before he came to his post this morning, so there was no reason to think he’d need to go agai— Oh. Bryce had been so worried about Kenneth bouncing off the walls with hyperactivity, that he’d managed to completely forget one of the OTHER effects coffee tended to have on people. “Paulson, are you alright?” “F—Fine!” Kenneth insisted. ‘God, please just turn around for a minute?’ He pleaded silently. ‘Just, don’t look at me so I’ll be able to—‘ “Do you know all of the things caffeine can do?” Bryce asked. “Because, it doesn’t only give you extra energy, and you look… VERY uncomfortable right now.” “I—I’m fine,” Kenneth repeated. His bladder quivered, and finally the heated pressure he’d been feeling at the base of his dick started to move down through it, a squirt of pee hissed into his underclothes and he snapped his legs together, bending forwards. His heart was beating rapidly, face warming as he tried to put a stop to the spill. “It can also make you need to ‘go’ an awful lot,” Bryce said. Kenneth struggled back upright, his leak clamped off, but he felt another just on the horizon. He hadn’t heard what Bryce said over the sound of his heart thundering in his ears. What the Hell was wrong with him?! At this rate, he wasn’t going to last another ten minutes! How could he be this close to exploding less than two hours since he’d last peed?! Had he somehow not gotten all of it out earlier?! “It’s a diuretic,” Bryce said. “Moves straight through you… And you drank the whole canteen REALLY fast, and you’ve never HAD any before, so if you’re needing to… Take care of anything…” “Bryce, I— I have to— May I please take a break? I think— I don’t know why, but I just NEED—“ “It’s just the coffee,” Bryce reiterated. “Just listen to me, it’s normal to have to go to the bathroom really badly after you’ve drank a lot of that stuff, it runs right through you— Like that tea you tricked Karl into drinking before.” “O—Oh…” Kenneth exhaled, glad to hear that he probably WASN’T sick, and now that Bryce knew and BELIEVED that he was just desperate to pee, he let himself squirm. He stomped his feet into the snow, digging his heels in before crossing his legs at the ankles. Again, he tried to hold himself, but struggled for purchase through all of his layers. “P—Permission t—to g—“ “Yes,” Bryce said. “Hurry back.” Kenneth turned and tried to sprint off, tried to RUN at super speed like he’d been so sure the coffee would allow him to do. But, now that it had all filtered through him and stretched out his bladder, the coffee wasn’t letting him move at ALL. He took a few long strides, and then he was leaking so forcefully into his clothes that he had to cross his legs back together and stop short completely to jiggle up and down. His barrack was SO far… He didn’t know how he’d ever make it! He’d barely begun to whimper when Bryce came up to his side. “Is the barrack too long a walk?” He asked quietly. Kenneth couldn’t bring himself to nod. Nodding would be admitting weakness, admitting weakness to Bryce, admitting to Bryce that he was so desperate to pee after just an hour and a half that he couldn’t handle a twenty minute walk. “It’s alright, I’ll go get…” Bryce tried to think of where Dwight might be now. He had Christmas off, so he could be anywhere… “I’LL take you to one of the restrooms,” he decided. “And…I’ll try to get you relaxed.” Kenneth said nothing. He knew there was a restroom nearby, maybe if it was empty… The walk to the restroom only took a few minutes, but that was long enough for Kenneth’s bladder to force out three more spills. Each one heated up his crotch in a way that felt entirely unpleasant even with the frigid weather. Bryce opened the bathroom door for him and he stumbled in out of the snow. He felt warmer now that he was indoors, but even though the restroom was thankfully empty, it looked intimidating to him. He heard Bryce behind him, messing with the door. “I locked it,” he informed. “It’s just us in here… Can you try a urinal so there’s more room for us both? The door is LOCKED,” he reiterated, slapping a hand against it. The urinals looked far more daunting than the stalls— The knowledge that no one could come in here barely helped. But, they ALSO looked like relief, and his bladder was shuddering as he stared at them, urging him to use one. He didn’t understand why his bladder throbbed so furiously at the sight of urinals, when it was ITS fault that he was so seldom able to use one. “O—Okay,” he said, reaching to his zipp— Fuck, that’s right… He had a LOT of layers to fight through before he could even TRY to pee into a urinal. Frustrated, he started to work the button of his coat, but couldn’t DO it with the gloves on, so he tried to yank one of them off, growling when it wouldn’t come loose. He jumped from foot to foot, just biting his glove off with his teeth and then ripping off the other one. He held them in his mouth, cringing at the feeling of the material on his tongue. Then, he was fighting with the coat buttons again, and— A dribble of urine was gliding down his leg, tickling his skin, and he hadn’t even felt it coming out, and— “Nnnnhhhh….” Bryce sighed, feeling nothing more than irritation at Kenneth’s absolutely pathetic behavior— Fighting so furiously with his own clothing, his motor skills obliterated by an urgent need for the toilet— Nothing about that was the least bit sympathetic, and it didn’t make Bryce want to help him out at all. No, it just made him want to deal with Kenneth’s clothes himself so that he could show the idiot how it was done. He stood beside Kenneth and made quick work of the coat buttons, “There,” he groaned. “Was that so hard?” Kenneth said nothing, just moved on to dealing with his uniform. He got his zipper down, and then he had to deal with the buttons on his thermal underwear, which proved as tricky as the ones on his coat. It didn’t help that, now that he COULD, he kept instinctively grabbing at his dick every few seconds. “Do you need MORE help?” Bryce asked, rolling his eyes. “I swear, you are so incompetent…” Kenneth looked away. “Um… Y—You can, but… it’s…” Right… Bryce was going to have his hands over Kenneth’s dick AGAIN, just like the day a couple weeks ago at the shop. That certainly didn’t make him feel… ANY way at all. Just annoyed. He was certain that no one else had to come into contact with their subordinate’s cock so often. All of THEM were so lucky, not needing to feel their annoying, stupid subordinate’s bulge as he made all of those… needy… little… whimpering noises and shook so violently beneath the touch. Bryce HATED it! Those buttons out of the way, Kenneth finally hobbled to a urinal and aimed himself at it. As expected, his stream stayed locked inside his bladder. Bryce was behind him a second later, though, rubbing his shoulders without needing to be asked, without needing to be told that Kenneth was having trouble getting started on his own. Kenneth had never noticed it before, but Bryce sure was warm… Leaning back against him, Kenneth felt even more heated than he had just after he’d finished that coffee. It was a little like how he felt when he snuggled Dwight on a cold day, except Dwight’s feet always got icy cold and he thought it was funny to press them into Kenneth’s back sometimes to watch him jump. Now, in Bryce’s arms, he was ALL warm. Warmth beaded up in his opening, and then a stream was pouring out of him, splattering the porcelain of the urinal. His eyes widened, he was actually managing to use a urinal again! Behind a locked door and with someone there trying to soothe him, sure, but still— He was peeing in a urinal! And, he’d gotten it started pretty fast this time, too! “Ahhhhh….” Kenneth groaned, loud enough that it echoed and overpowered the (already ear-splitting) hiss of his stream. Bryce’s face tinted red at the noise. God dammit, when was he EVER going to get used to all those weird sounds Kenneth made when he pissed? When were they going to stop making him feel… Making him… feel… Fuck, Kenneth moaned like he was having the most incredible sex imaginable when he took a leak, it wasn’t Bryce’s fault if THAT sometimes made his mind wander to… Things. Things that… That didn’t really involve Kenneth! Not really! Not— Kenneth started to shudder, shivers going up his spine as the pleasure of his relief kept intensifying. His body was going so loose, so relaxed, tension faded from every nerve he had. He leaned more against Bryce, legs going wobbly from how good it felt, and he kept shaking with euphoria… Oh… Oh God… Blood drained from Bryce’s face, from Bryce’s… EVERYTHING, as Kenneth sagged into him and SHUDDERED like that. Kenneth’s twitching and the vocalizations of pleasure that kept flowing from his mouth were having a PROFOUND effect on Bryce, one he was beginning to fear Kenneth would FEEL and REACT to, and— ‘Fuck, fuck, just… Just focus on rubbing his shoulders still, in case he locks up again,’ Bryce ordered himself, and he kneaded Kenneth with more force than was probably necessary, trying to distract himself from the INSANITY currently gripping his mind and body. Kenneth felt Bryce digging more deeply into the tense muscles in his shoulders, it felt good to be… Basically massaged as he urinated so copiously. He wasn’t sure why Bryce was doing that so intensely, he wasn’t going to complain but… Okay, now Bryce’s hands were moving? And… Over his chest for some reason, rubbing his— “Br—Bryce?” Kenneth asked, his stream faltering but not ceasing. “What are you doing that for?” Bryce’s eyes, which he hadn’t even realized he’d shut, opened wide. “Huh? Doing wha—“ He stopped, sucked in a breath. He’d let himself act on auto-pilot, and had ended up caressing Kenneth’s nipples through his uniform shirt. “Ah—“ he dragged his hands back up over Kenneth’s shoulders. “I— I don’t know— I’m so sorry, I— Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry!“ The last of Kenneth’s pee seeped out and he tucked his dick back into his pants, zipping them closed. “Um… Th— Uh, yeah… It’s… It’s always just the shoulders… Sometimes part of my back or neck, but… That’s… It.” Bryce forced himself to meet Kenneth’s eyes. It seemed the other just thought he’d messed up the calm-down-routine because he wasn’t the one who usually DID it. Bryce was tempted to let him KEEP assuming that, but something in him wouldn’t allow it. Something in him told him that would be wrong. “I… I am so sorry,” he repeated. “I… I just… I behaved very inappropriately just now, I stepped WAY out of line, I… Crossed a boundary, and… I’m very sorry…” “It’s oka—“ “It’s not,” Bryce said. “I… I don’t know what came over me, I’ve been… Confused as of late, but that doesn’t excuse what I just did. If you’d like the rest of today off, if you’d like a new supervisor, or—“ “Bryce…?” Kenneth asked. “I don’t think I understand.” Fuck… It was WORSE that Kenneth didn’t even understand what had happened! It was SO much worse! “I… Have been… Experiencing certain ‘thoughts’ lately,” Bryce said. “And, they seem to have gotten out of hand, they are affecting my behavior, and I think it would be in the best interest of… Everyone, if you and Dwight both transferred to—“ “I— I thought we’d been getting along better now!” Kenneth said. “I’m sorry if we made you mad! W—We won’t prank you ever again, or anything! We’ll stop teasing you!” Bryce’s chest clenched. Everything Kenneth said was making him feel worse. “I just don’t think it’s good for any of us to be… Together in the way we are. Especially not when I am in a position of authority, and I’ve just proven that I can’t control myself.” “Because you accidentally touched my chest? It felt weird, but it’s—“ “It wasn’t an accident!” Bryce snapped. “That’s the issue! Don’t you get it? I— I just— I TOUCHED you in a DEEPLY inappropriate way, because I’m— I—“ “It’s fine, just don’t do it again next time, and we can—“ “There won’t BE a next time,” Bryce said. “There CAN’T be, I’m not— I shouldn’t— God, you’re so dense!” “Bryce—“ “I’m attracted to you, alright?” Bryce said. “Do you get it now? Have I spelled it out clearly enough for you? I don’t know why the fuck I am, but I AM. Y—You, and Dwight, and Elizabeth— CHRIST, Paulson, I’ve… I’ve had so many dreams where the four of us are… I CAN’T just keep being involved with you, we’ve gotten too close— I HOLD you while you piss, Paulson! That’s too intimate, it’s too close, this thing we have going on is not appropriate, it’s—“ “You like me?” Kenneth asked. Of course that was all he’d focus on… “‘Like’ is a strong word…” “I didn’t realize you liked men at all,” Kenneth said. “You’re always staring at Elizabeth, so I figured—“ “I— I think I kind of just… Like everyone. If someone looks good, then they just DO. And I’ve been with… lots of people, but only in a specific setting that’s SUPPOSED to stay separate from the rest of my life. Those feelings are supposed to just switch off other times, but lately they WON’T, and they keep coming up for… For people I work with and talk to, and—“ “It’s okay if you like me,” Kenneth said. “I’m not going to tell anybody if that’s why you’re worried.” “I’m not SUPPOSED to think about you that way! You—You drive me crazy! I’m supposed to HATE you, and— And— Whatever I feel about you, it’s nothing like hate, and— God, last week when you hid that stupid rubber snake in my bed again, I SHOULD have wanted to smack you, but I DIDN’T, I just— I thought about how boring my life would be if you weren’t around, and… And that day at the store, when you didn’t make me leave the stall before you pissed, it made me feel… Weird, that you trusted me so much— And I shouldn’t—“ “It’s alright,” Kenneth promised. “I mean, I can tell that you like it when I mess with you, that’s WHY I still do it. At first, I was only doing it to make you mad since you were always being a dick, but then I saw you start laughing at the pranks too, and I thought… You’re always so stiff, you need to be able to laugh… And, I— I do trust you more now, that’s not a BAD thing. You remember that night in the tent when I had that bad dream and you—“ “Yes,” Bryce said. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to remember how soft Kenneth had felt, how good it had made him feel to protect him… “I think that’s when I started to trust you for real,” Kenneth said. “I don’t want you to put distance between us, I like you too.” “But… I… I touched you, I shouldn’t have—“ “You shouldn’t have,” Kenneth agreed. “If you can promise not to do it again without asking, then we can try to forget about it.” “I— I won’t!” Bryce said. “I’m really sorry that I did it at all.” “Okay,” Kenneth said. “Thank you. Thank you for… Helping me again, and everything.” “Y—You’re welcome,” Bryce said. “Any time…” He moved to unlock the door so they could leave. “Er… Merry Christmas, I guess. Making you piss is a weird gift, but—“ “I… Uh… I did appreciate it, yeah,” Kenneth said.
  5. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "While Caroling". *** Soon after Alex and Ben had finished in the restroom, it was time for Alex to pass out the gifts he’d gotten for everyone. It warmed his heart to see how happy his siblings all were with their presents. He was especially delighted when Ben broke into a grin at the sight of the drawing supplies he unwrapped. Ben loved drawing, and back when they’d lived with Papa, he hadn’t been allowed to do it. Papa said drawing was something only girls were supposed to do. Now, Alex wanted to make sure Ben had lots of opportunities to explore his hobby, and that no one ever shamed him for it again. Then, it was time for dinner. Adam liked the way Alex’s Mom cooked, and he was very happy that she always tried vegetarian recipes when he was visiting. This evening, she’d prepared roasted cauliflower and lasagna. The little kids all liked the lasagna, but seemed wary of the cauliflower. Prudence said it looked “like a brain,” making Adam snort with laughter. He ate some of the cauliflower to show her it wasn’t bad, surprised by the amount of pepper in it. He found himself reaching for his water glass often as he ate, both to combat the pepper and to help quell his nerves. After dinner, he and Alex were going to announce their engagement. Adam had to get up to re-fill his glass three times before he was through with his meal, and then one more time while they had dessert. When he took Alex’s hand and they stood up together, Adam was immediately aware of a tightness in his lower belly. Downing four glasses of water in under an hour had apparently convinced his kidneys to work overtime… “W—We had something we wanted to say,” Alex began. “It’s… Um… It’s exciting…” He squeezed Adam’s hand. “Y—Yeah,” Adam said, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, pressing dangerously close to his bladder. He would have preferred to have done this when he DIDN’T need a bathroom sort of badly, but now that Alex had set the stage for a big, grand announcement, no way was he going to blurt out ‘I have to pee!’ He could hold it in for a few more minutes easily. “A— A little while ago… Alex asked me to marry him.” The reaction was immediate, at one end of the table, Alex’s Grandmother was beaming. His Mom was clapping, and his siblings were all asking a myriad of questions. “Did you say yes?!” Prudence demanded. “You have to say yes!” “Does that mean you’re gonna be our brother, too?!” Ben asked. “When’s the wedding?!” Charity cried. “I love weddings! Can I be the flower girl?!” “No, me!” Said Mary. “I—I did say yes,” Adam continued, sitting back down and rubbing a hand over his sore middle. “It was actually kinda funny… I’d been just about to ask him the same thing… And, yeah, I guess once we’re married, I’ll be you guys’s brother, too. And… We don’t know when the wedding’s gonna be, or what it’ll be like yet. We just wanted to let you all know.” A lot of discussion followed. Alex’s Mom had lots of suggestions for where they could have their wedding, and what foods they could have, what music to play… By the time the excitement died off, Adam REALLY had to pee and was frantically tapping his feet beneath the table. He couldn’t think of anything regarding the wedding, aside from the fact he wanted it to take place somewhere with lots of bathrooms, and that he needed to make sure the suit he picked didn’t have very many buttons over the fly. He finally had a chance to run to the toilet when Prudence asked if they could go caroling again this year and everyone’s attention turned to her. Adam pushed back his chair, “E—Excuse me,” he said, climbing to his feet and wincing at how heavy his bladder felt inside him. A minute later, he’d locked himself in one of the restrooms. He unzipped his pants and aimed a thin, crystal clear stream of liquid into the toilet, sighing deeply as the walls of his bladder compressed and his tension eased. “Ahhhh….” His pee was devoid of any color, he was basically just letting out pure water— He was well BEYOND hydrated, and had a feeling he’d be making quite a few runs for the toilet as all this liquid filtered through him. Once he’d finished and left the bathroom, he found Alex helping Charity into a thick coat. Prudence was already wearing hers, Ben and Mary were still in the kitchen. “Adam, you wanna come with us?” Alex asked. Adam struggled to remember where they were going— He’d been far more focused on pissing earlier. “Oh, caroling, right?” “Yeah,” Alex said. “Ben thinks it’s lame, and Mary’s still too little, but these two LOVE it, so I’m gonna take them down a few streets.” Adam nodded, if Alex was going out, he’d go too. “Alright, but I’m not gonna sing.” “Awww,” Prudence said. “BELIEVE me,” Adam told her. “You don’t WANT me to.” Alex snickered, “Yeah, Adam’s singing voice is more suited for a metal band than it is for ‘O Holy Night…’” With Charity bundled up, Alex tugged on his own coat and handed Adam his. Adam put it on, laughing. “Oh, Alex— Did I ever tell you? When I was little, there was this Christmas party at the hospital where my Dad was working…” He pushed open the front door and stepped into the chilly Winter air, a shiver knotting in his abdomen and catching him off guard for a second. “Uh— Well, at the party, they got me to sing because they thought it was cute. And, like, everyone was saying I had ‘the voice of an angel’, and that I sounded so soothing I could sing babies to sleep and stuff. And then, for years after, my parents would have me sing all these super calming, New Age songs, and they’d say stuff about me being the next Enya.” He walked down the street alongside Alex and his siblings, his shoes trudging in the snow, and a buzzing filling his bladder. ‘I can’t seriously need to go again THIS fast, can I?’ He wondered. “And, my voice stayed like that for a long time, but then when I was old enough to be on testosterone… Like, I think only a month later, my parents were all ‘Well, he’s not gonna be Enya NOW, is he? He’s gonna have to be in Deftones instead.’” Alex laughed, feeling a touch warmer from the story. Adam hadn’t been the person his parents had expected, and instead of being upset, they’d just rolled with it, adjusted their expectations instead of trying to adjust Adam. Why were some parents like Adam’s, but other parents like Papa? They got to the first house and rang the doorbell, Prudence and Charity performed their rendition of a few Christmas songs, earning plenty of cooing “Awwww”s from the occupants of the home. As they walked away from that house, the pressure inside Adam’s body grew. He really DID have to pee again. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since he’d last used the toilet, but he already felt full enough that he was eagerly anticipating his next visit. They’d JUST left, if Adam told them all to turn back around already, he’d be met with disappointed groans. Seeing as how he’d already emptied his bladder once this hour, he was sure he could make it until the next to go again. His need was worsening at a pretty alarming pace, but it HAD to slow back down and plateau eventually. They went to every house on this street, and Adam smiled as he watched Prudence and Charity have their fun. He’d been worried some of the neighbors would get annoyed with this, but the girls were apparently still young enough that everything they did was cute— Even knocking on people’s doors around dinner time just to sing to them. The only problem was that Alex was STILL waiting on that ‘plateau’ he’d been hoping for. With every passing minute, his need for the toilet got worse and worse. The cold weather wasn’t helping him at all, every time he shivered, the liquid inside him was shaken up, the sensitive walls of his bladder strained and he had to tense his thighs against the pressure. They turned onto the next street, and Adam began to ponder if he should ask someone to use their restroom. He didn’t want to trouble anybody, but his bladder was REALLY aching now. He’d needed to pause in his strides a few times to cross his legs, hoping that the action would go unnoticed by his companions. At the next house, Adam watched the girls sing and tried to think of a good way to request the toilet. Standing still as Prudence and Charity performed wasn’t helping his need at all. His bladder throbbed and throbbed, the pressure at his opening weighing heavily, his right foot was tapping involuntarily. Alex watched Adam fidgeting, and assumed his fiancé was getting too cold. Once the door to the house was closed, Alex pulled Adam in for a close, tight hug, furrowing his brown in confusion when Adam immediately went stiff in his arms. “You want to wear my coat, too?” Alex asked. Adam shook his head, “I— I’m fine,” he said. “You keep it.” He felt a little better once they’d started walking again. His bladder was being rocked back and forth with each step, but that didn’t hurt as bad as standing still did. When they stopped at a house, it was just awful. Not only did he have to hold it, he also had to work harder to hide the fact that he was doing so. By the time they were done with the second street, Adam was beginning to doubt his ability to hold it much longer. Heat that was far too wet for his comfort kept appearing between his legs, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Icy fear kept knotting in his body, the unmistakable dampness of his leaks sending adrenaline scorching through him. He leaned into Alex, whom held his hand gently. “I can give you my coat,” Alex reminded. The cold was the only explanation he could think of for why Adam was walking so oddly, bending over at his waist, stopping short, stepping in place quickly. He must have just been trying to get more heat back into his body. “I don’t mind.” “I—I’m not cold,” Adam said. Alex sighed, his warm breath forming a cloud in the air. It wasn’t like Adam to deny things like that, he’d never been one to act tough in order to convince others he was ‘macho’. “Adam—“ “I just have to go to the bathroom,” Adam told him. “That’s all. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh…” Alex looked down, now seeing Adam’s twitchy legs in a new light. “You wanna head back now?” “What!?” Prudence whined, overhearing. “Awwww…” Charity chimed in. “Not yet!” Alex held his hands up. “Adam needs to—“ “I can hold it,” Adam interrupted, sounding way more certain than he felt. The kids were having so much fun, he didn’t want to make them cut it short just because his bladder was bothering him. “I went right before we left, so I should be fine.” He SHOULD have been, but he wasn’t. The pulses from beneath his fly were screaming at him, telling him that he was very, VERY far from fine. “Yay!” Charity and Prudence cheered. Alex squeezed Adam’s hand. “Are you sure?” He whispered. Adam tensed up his thighs and wriggled his hips. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” Once on the next street, time seemed to be slowing down for Adam. All of the songs Prudence and Charity sang became indecipherable gibberish as soon as they hit his ears. On top of that, his own breathing seemed to be getting louder with every exhale, to the point where after a few minutes, he could hear his breath as loud as a door being slammed. An absolutely atrocious increase in the pressure he was battling seemed to coincide with the amplifying volume. He had no idea if it was the result of more water slamming against his opening, or just the slow weakening of his holding muscles. Coiling his legs together as he stood on a stranger’s porch, he let out a quiet, shaking groan as he tried to steady himself. In the end, all this discomfort and pressure would be worth something, wouldn’t it? He’d get back to the house in time, be at the toilet, unzipped, gushing away and feeling absolutely incredible. Following his thoughts, his full bladder squeezed in on itself with enough force that his heart began to beat rapid-fire. There was more wet heat between his legs, but he wasn’t sure if it was another leaking squirt of pee, or sweat from the strain of trying to hold it all back. He grabbed his crotch for a second, savoring the relief this brought. He stared up at the owner of this house, his eyes wide, begging. He hoped the person would just… Notice that he had to go, offer him the bathroom. Of course, they didn’t. He was going to have to ask. When Charity and Prudence bowed before the woman, Adam opened his mouth. “E—Excuse me, may I—“ “Ohhhh,” the woman cooed, bending down to the girls. “You two are just precious!” Charity giggled and Prudence beamed. “Did Santa bring you lots of presents today?” “Uh-huh,” Charity said. Adam cleared his throat, shifting on his feet and sloshing everything inside of him once more. The waves of piss crashed down, bearing its full weight against the tiny ring of muscle responsible for keeping it at bay. He almost doubled over, every shuffle of his feet prompted the same reaction from his bladder, but he couldn’t hold still. Even as his pee-dancing hurt him a lot more than it helped, he just couldn’t hold still! “I bet he did…” the woman was saying. “You’re both very good girls, aren’t you?” “Excuse me…” Adam tried again, attempting to speak up. It wasn’t easy, so much of his energy was too busy preventing his piss from flowing down his legs. Every muscle in his lower body was straining to hold back the flood that was fighting its hardest to escape. He straightened up, trying to be seen better, and immediately his urge felt WORSE, which was definitely the fault of gravity, but it was so intense that it felt like something was working with malicious intent to increase the downward pull for the sole purpose of torturing Adam. The woman was still just so enamored with the kids, though… It was like Adam wasn’t there, it was like he hadn’t said anything! Alex took Adam’s hand and rubbed it gently. HE’D been able to hear him. “Ma’am?” Alex asked, clearing his throat. She looked up finally, and stared at Adam whom was crossing and recrossing his legs, a look of pure panic and need upon his face. Alex was SURE that she was about to offer him the bathroom, but instead she said “Well, all of you have a nice evening,” and shut the door. Adam groaned when he heard the lock click, the sound was like a punch to his bladder, painful in its finality. Prudence and Charity turned around now, and Adam was no longer able to behave in a way that made it look like he wasn’t holding back a typhoon of urine. “Do you have to tinkle?” Prudence asked. ‘Tinkle’ was not a strong enough word for what Adam had to do. The aching, wailing pressure in his middle was serious and called for a serious term; He needed to PISS. He still managed a nod and a miserable shrug. “I was trying to ask her if I could use her toilet.” “Adam, do you want to head back now?” Alex asked. “Awwww,” Charity pouted. “Adam REALLY has to go to the bathroom,” Alex said. “He can go at someone’s house,” Charity said. “He should have gone before we left,” Prudence repeated something Mom had doubtlessly told HER many times before. “I did…” Adam mumbled. “But, it’s fine. I’m fine. I can wait a little bit longer.” Alex worried at his lip, “Adam—“ “E—End of this street,” Adam said. “We’ll stop after this street. I can handle that. Is that okay?” The girls nodded, and Adam followed after them, hoping that his mouth wouldn’t turn out to be bigger than his bladder. He was okay through the next couple houses. He desperately needed to relieve himself, but he didn’t feel the threatening tremble warning him that he was about to go in his pants. At the third house, it was taking all of his strength not to jam his hands between his legs. He was bursting at the seams, and again he tried to get the home owners’ attention in the hopes that he would be granted freedom from his agony. This time, the girls were singing for an elderly couple. Adam hoped that meant they’d be more sympathetic, behave like grandparents and let him pee before he exploded all over their front porch. He waited for Prudence and Charity to finish, then he spoke as loudly as he could “E—Excuse me, I—“ “Adam has to tinkle real bad,” Charity laughed. Adam reddened, but nodded frantically. “I— I do,” he said. “May I please use your restroom really fast?” The old man turned to his wife, whom said “Of course you may,” and immediately Adam was exhaling with relief. “Ah, thank you,” Adam said, pushing his way forwards. “Thank you so much, thankyouthankyou…” The old man put his hand up to stop him. “Shoes off in the house,” he said. Adam tried not to frown at this additional obstacle, this extra thing he would have to wait through. They were kind enough to let him use their toilet, if they didn’t want him wearing shoes on their carpet, he shouldn’t complain. His bladder DID complain though, when he crouched down to unlace his shoes, his bladder complained a LOT. Tears dotted the edges of his eyes as his waistband compressed his midsection with a fury he didn’t think he’d ever known before. “Hnnnn…” he grunted involuntarily, shoving one of his shoes off. His dam was cracking under the strain, his opening shuddering against the pressure of the agonizingly loud call of nature. A drip slid out of him, followed by a spurt. He removed the other shoe and shot back up like a rubber band— Bad idea! The sudden, rapid change in his position made another crack form in his crumbling defenses. A dribble rolled down his leg, warm and slick. The leaking made his pulse fire, “O—Okay!” He burst out. “M—May I go now?!” The man stepped aside to allow him in, and the woman told him the restroom was to the left of the kitchen. Adam gave in to the need to grab himself, and plunged both hands between his legs as he rushed that way. He was already going loose at the thought of the upcoming relief, he grabbed the doorknob and tugged it open. Once he was inside and had gotten the door locked, he spun around on the spot, not daring to LOOK at the toilet until he was actually ready to USE it. He had to get his clothes out of the way, just had to hang on until there were no longer fabric barriers doomed to bear the full brunt of what was sure to be a furious jet of liquid. Guh… Why did his coat have to go down to his crotch? He frantically fought with all the buttons, then yanked down the zipper, jumping from foot to foot the entire time, his desperation worsening to unimaginable new levels by this final obstruction to his relief. He unbuttoned his pants, tore down his zip, and finally freed himself from his damp boxers. He turned to face the toilet and aimed his prosthetic for the— thankfully already open— bowl. He wondered briefly if the old lady ever yelled at the old man for leaving the seat up, but Adam was grateful to him for it, because he did NOT have a second to spare… Or, at least, he’d THOUGHT he didn’t have a second to spare. Unfortunately, now that he was ready to pee, his bladder was suddenly remembering how to hold it. He bore down on his muscles, trying to force his stream out, but it didn’t work. He knew his sudden inability to void was probably down to him just simply having waited too long, and his body needing time to catch up and understand that it was finally safe to let go. But, that didn’t make it any less frustrating, didn’t make the pressure any less painful. Finally, a slow stream started to flow forth, not at all the geyser he’d been expecting, but at least it was coming out. A few seconds later, his release had picked up speed and he was emptying a heavy, strong jet into the bowl. The sensation of releasing the burden at long last made him tremble, the hiss of it nearly echoing. Again, his stream was completely clear, his body still over-hydrated— As if all his feelings of desperation hadn’t been enough to tell him that. The endless flow of water surged out without pause, and he grinned a satisfied smile as he groaned with pleasure. Sensing that he was approaching the end of his well overdue piss, he was almost a little disappointed. This felt so good that it made him wish it could go on for hours, but the relief setting in for him was wonderful, too. As the gush finally slowed to a trickle, he pushed down and forced the last of it out. He closed the toilet lid and flushed, then zipped up and fixed his coat. Splashing some water onto his face at the sink, he tried to catch his breath. He exited the restroom and thanked the elderly couple again on his way out of the house. “Thank you, I’m real sorry.” “Don’t be sorry,” the woman said. “I just hope you aren’t like Harold and you actually remembered to put the seat down.” The man groaned, and Adam headed out the front door. Once it had shut behind him, he sighed again. “Ahhhh… You guys wanna finish with this street still?” Prudence and Charity nodded, and they were on their way. Alex took Adam’s hand again, pleased that he was no longer trembling.
  6. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Christmas at a relative's house". *** Cleaning up the damp sheets and pajama bottoms didn’t take very long. They took them down to their building’s laundry room and they were dry and smelling fresh soon enough. A cloud seemed to hang over them both, however. Alex couldn’t believe he’d had an accident like that, especially not today! Not only was it Christmas, it was also the day he’d been planning to tell his Mom that he was getting married! Marriage was one of the biggest signifiers that a person had become an adult, but Alex couldn’t be a real adult if he was still peeing in bed, could he? Adam was anxious about their morning’s activities, too. In spite of everything he’d done to assure Alex that his accident hadn’t been a big deal, he knew his fiancé was sure to be in a very fragile state right now. He was glad Alex hadn’t broken down and cried this time, but he kept acting like he was right on the edge of it. Going to see his siblings would probably get him back in some better spirits, though. Adam and Alex loaded all of the gifts into the backseat of their car, and when Adam slid into the driver’s seat, he felt a pressure that told him he’d forgotten to do something important. And Alex had forgotten as well. Adam knew that simply reminding Alex to go pee now would be an awful idea. Alex would feel like he was being put on the spot, and that Adam was so anxious about his bladder because he no longer believed Alex could properly control it. So, instead he found a different way to ensure Alex paid attention to his body. “Oh, almost forgot; I gotta pee before we leave,” he said. “Could you keep me company?” Alex nodded, biting his lip. He hadn’t actually relieved himself at all today. The last time he’d peed had been when he’d accidentally let loose into the sheets while fast asleep. He definitely had to go, but he’d been trying to ignore it. After he’d wet himself, each subsequent trip to the toilet made his face burn. When he was younger and peed his clothes because he wasn’t able to wait through the line for the bathroom, Papa would always be so angry… Then, for at least the next couple days, any time he saw Alex heading to the toilet, he’d comment about it. “Oh, looks like someone ISN’T too lazy to use the bathroom this time, huh?” The attention, the extra reminders of the fact he’d soaked himself (as if he could ever forget), filled Alex with humiliation. And then he’d put off each pee until he was wriggling and it had become an emergency, just to avoid the shame. Adam didn’t taunt him like that when these things happened to him, but just having Adam SEE him go to the toilet after he’d wet himself was enough to make him feel embarrassed. He couldn’t shake the idea that Adam was watching him go into the restroom, and thinking about it. He had no doubt that Adam’s thoughts weren’t at all malicious, that they were probably more along the lines of ‘Okay, good. He’s gonna make it this time.’ But, that was embarrassing, too! To his dismay, those feelings were just as strong today even though Adam had ALSO had an accident in the night. They re-entered their apartment and Adam went to the restroom. Alex fidgeted in the doorway for a second before joining him. He unzipped and aimed, letting go of his bladder for the first time all day with a shivery sigh. Adam relaxed a moment after Alex had, yet by the time he’d finished up, Alex was still pouring away. ‘Wow, he DID need to go…’ Adam thought. ‘Wait, has he gone today at ALL?’ He tried to recall, but couldn’t think of a single moment where Alex had excused himself for the restroom until now. ‘I guess he’s been excited, so he forgot?’ That didn’t sound right, though. Surely Alex must have been thinking a lot about urinating today, considering what had happened… Well, that didn’t really matter. It was a good thing Adam had gotten him to empty out before they got on the road, he was certain there was going to be a lot of traffic and it would be just awful if Alex suddenly realized he was having an emergency when they were trapped with nowhere to pull over. Alex zipped his pants and washed his hands, hoping he wasn’t blushing too much. “R—Ready now?” He asked. Adam nodded. A half hour later, caught in bumper to bumper traffic, Alex was noticing the first pangs from his bladder once more. This drive was always little long, but today it looked as though it would take ages to get there. Alex couldn’t even guess at when they might actually arrive at their destination. He didn’t want to have to pee! He’d just gone before they’d left! But, it sure felt like he was needing it again… The memory of standing in front of the toilet, just a mere thirty minutes ago, was making him anxiously tap his fingers against his thighs as his bladder twitched. ‘There’s no way you need to pee again,’ he told himself. ‘It hasn’t been long enough! You have a big bladder, remember?’ He did remember. He remembered nearly overflowing a one liter bottle and ACTUALLY overflowing a training potty. His cheeks burned, and he tried not to think about peeing anymore. He couldn’t stop, though. Every thought eventually came back to how awful the wet sheets had felt as they’d clung to him that morning, how clammy his boxers had been, how he’d peed his pants like a child and NOT like someone that was going to get married soon! The car inched forward through the traffic, bit by bit. Minutes kept ticking by. Alex was adjusting his position frequently, uncomfortable in his seat. “Adam?” He asked finally. “Is it gonna be like this the whole way there?” “I’m afraid so,” Adam said. Alex’s tone made his heart clench, it wasn’t like him to sound so gloomy and anxious on Christmas. He reached over and squeezed Alex’s hand. “Sorry about the traffic, sweet thing,” he said. Really, he was apologizing again for what Alex had woken up to. “Once we see the little ones, I bet you’ll cheer right up.” Alex nodded. “I—I’m okay,” he insisted, deep down wondering if any of his younger siblings had ALSO wet their sheets last night. If they’d all stayed dry when HE hadn’t managed it… He tensed his thighs up when a little jolting pang of need bloomed inside his bladder. The tension in his middle was growing tighter and tighter, and he KNEW that if he just stopped paying attention to it, it wouldn’t feel so strong anymore. He just couldn’t stop focusing on how every drop of liquid inside his filling bladder felt. By the time they’d reached their destination, Alex was beyond ready to pee. He’d been crossing his legs for so long that they’d fallen asleep, and his fingers had been digging against his thighs. He unlatched his seatbelt, and when the strap pulled away from his aching bladder he released a heavy sigh. He hadn’t even noticed how much that thing had been digging into him until it was suddenly gone. He carefully exited the car, gently placing his feet down on the ground. As he rose up, his brief respite abruptly ended and he was feeling the full brunt of his need once again. His bladder felt heavy and stretched out, a tautness just below his navel that made him fidget where he stood. Adam got out as well and stretched. “Finally…” he said. “I didn’t think we’d ever get through all of that.” Alex nodded as Adam went to grab some of the presents from the backseat. Alex really had to go… But, it wouldn’t be fair to make Adam do this all by himself. Besides, it would be awful embarrassing to burst into the house and run straight for the toilet. Alex could hold off for a little bit longer. Now that he was close to a bathroom again, he didn’t see a reason to worry himself over it. Alex took an armload of the gifts and he and Adam went up to the front door. Adam clumsily rang the bell, trying not to drop everything he was carrying. Alex’s Mom answered a moment later and welcomed them inside. They placed all of the presents underneath the tree, said hello to Alex’s grandmother, and finally Alex turned to head towards one of the restrooms. Before he could make the first step, he was mobbed by his younger brother and sisters. “Alex! You’re here” Charity cheered, hugging him tightly. “What did you bring us?” Ben asked. “Don’t be so rude, Ben!” Prudence scolded. “Alex!” Mary grinned and hugged him from his other side. Alex smiled at all of them. He was happy to see them, honestly! Just, now that Mary was clinging to his legs like that, he couldn’t CROSS them, and he suddenly wanted to do that really bad. It didn’t help that Charity’s arms were wrapped right around his bladder, and that her hugs were usually super tight. He felt like a balloon being stepped on. “W—We were stuck in traffic a while,” Alex tried to explain, something in him insisting that he needed to JUSTIFY his desire for a pee break. Like, if he didn’t have a decent enough reason for his bladder to be full, they’d somehow all be able to guess that he’d failed to hold it in last night. It didn’t matter what he said anyway, because nobody heard him. They all kept chattering at him, arguing with one another over who would get to play with Alex first. “Come on, Alex,” Ben said. “I want to—“ “Ben wants to play a GROSS game,” Prudence interrupted. “Alex should come draw with me!” “I wanna show him my presents!” Charity whined. Alex started to run a hand through his hair anxiously as Charity led him over to the little tea set she’d received earlier that morning. Alex crouched beside her, grateful that the cup being offered to him was only filled with imaginary liquid. If only the fluid in his bladder could be imaginary, too. Kneeling down had really upset the still filling organ. He knew he had to come up with a way to get to the bathroom soon without having to announce it… Adam watched Alex playing with his little sister, paying particular attention to the hand his fiancé kept moving up to his pony-tail. Adam knew now what it meant when Alex fiddled with his hair like that, and assumed Alex would be excusing himself once Charity grew bored of the game. Alex had been hoping to do that, but before he had a chance, Grandma said it was time for everyone to start getting ready for church. So, rather than peeing, Alex’s next several minutes were taken up by helping all of the little ones get dressed, and making sure that THEY all used the toilet before they left. Every time the bathroom door shut, the sound of the lock clicking felt like a kick to Alex’s bladder. He made himself wait AWAY from the restroom, so that he wouldn’t have to hear the toilet flushing, so that he wouldn’t start squirming and jiggling beside the door, so that it wouldn’t be brutally obvious that he was beginning to get desperate for some relief. Adam watched Alex standing awkwardly in the living room as he waited for one of the restrooms to free up. Alex’s legs had crossed together in a way that looked almost casual— If he weren’t messing with his hair, Adam wouldn’t have thought he needed to go. Several minutes later, Ben, Prudence, Charity and Mary were all ready to leave. Alex ushered them out to their Mom’s van, helped Mary into her car-seat, and all the while Adam kept waiting for him to turn back around and go use the bathroom. He didn’t… He just got right into the van. Confused, Adam took the seat beside him. So, maybe Alex DIDN’T have to pee…? Before Adam could allow himself to think that, Alex was bouncing his legs, fanning his knees in and out. “Sweet thing…?” He whispered. “You sure you’re ready to go?” Alex nodded. His siblings had all taken so long to get ready, he didn’t want to make the family late just because he wanted a bathroom break. He’d go once they got to the church. Once everyone was in the van and Mom began the drive, Alex fought back his whimpers. He’d forgotten how much bouncier a big van was compared to a little, electric car like Adam’s… And, of course he’d stupidly decided to sit in the back— The worst seat to take when in need of a toilet. ‘It won’t be long,’ he thought. Just a few minutes, and then he’d be at a urinal, freeing himself from the growing tension inside of him. His desperation was blatant to Adam. Alex was chewing his lip, fidgeting his hips in all directions, bouncing his knee up and down. When they went over a bump in the road, Alex gasped softly and bent forwards, posture radiating with urgency. They got to the church and everyone filed in for the service. It was a lot more crowded today than it usually was— The people who didn’t attend that often still always showed up on Christmas. It took a while to find an area with enough vacancy for all of them to sit down, and when Alex took his place, his bladder cramped and stabbed at him sharply. This would likely be the best opportunity to use the bathroom Alex would get all day. Right now, he didn’t even have to SAY that he was going to the toilet to be able to be excused. He could tell everyone he was going somewhere ELSE, and so long as they didn’t follow, they wouldn’t know he’d needed to pee— They wouldn’t have any reason to think about him peeing. They wouldn’t have any reason to wonder if he’d had any accidents recently. Alex stood, the liquid within him rushing downwards and causing him to stumble. “I am going to… Uh… Try and grab some of the cookies before they run out,” he said. His Mom waved him off and Alex hurried out of the room. He was staring down at the ground, watching his feet. His legs buzzed so much with the need to squirm, and he was worried he’d trip if he wasn’t careful. After a few more turns, he released an involuntary groan at the sight of a very long line. It was so massive that it wrapped around the wall in an L shape, and when Alex took his spot at the back of it, he couldn’t even SEE the door to the men’s room he needed. “Mmmf…” he whimpered, crossing his legs. When he saw the knot he was tying himself in, he blushed fiercely and tried to straighten out. There was only one reason a person would be contorting themselves like that while standing in line for a toilet. Anyone who laid eyes on him would know he needed to pee, they’d know how badly he needed to pee and, somehow, they’d know that he’d peed his bed last night. The hand that had been just about to make contact with his crotch curled around his waistband instead and he told himself to wait. Patience was a virtue, after all. Alex should do his best to display such behavior at ALL times, but especially in church… Although he doubted ‘Be patient when you’re bursting to pee and you have to wait through, like, forty people before you can use a urinal’ was really what God had meant… Alex tried to be patient— He thought he WAS most of the time! He didn’t frustrate easily, and he was alright if someone else did something a little too slowly and he had to wait on them. Usually, anyway. Right now, everyone ahead of him seemed to be taking WAY too long to use the restroom, and it was so HARD to wait. Even if Alex wanted to be virtuous and calm, his BLADDER had other ideas. It had no time for patience, it wanted Alex to shove his way through the agonizingly long line and finally EMPTY it. He leaned against the wall, kneeling slightly. He hoped that looked normal enough— He hoped it didn’t make him LOOK like he was dying to shove past everybody so that he could finally go! The line was just INCHING forwards, and sweat kept rolling down the back of Alex’s neck. He stared up at the ceiling, hitching his hips and clenching his thighs. Ten minutes later, Alex could tell that he still had AGES left until he’d be in front of a toilet. The service had probably started already, and since he’d mentioned getting cookies, his siblings were probably anxiously anticipating him coming back with some. At the rate the line was moving, he’d probably still be waiting by the time the service ended… He didn’t WANT to leave his spot in line, it had grown in the time he’d been standing in it. He had to go so badly now that he was no longer able to conceal it. He kept wriggling, kept crossing his legs, caught himself nearly cupping his crotch a few times, too. He NEEDED to stay in line until he FINALLY got to take his turn. He stayed in place for a couple more minutes, then he gave up. It would probably be faster just to hold it until he got back to Mom’s place! Limping from the line and biting back a groan when his bladder gave a confused, angry pang, Alex found the tables of food that had been set up and grabbed a few cookies. At first, he only got enough for his siblings, but then he grabbed an extra one for Adam. *** Adam had been struggling to pay attention to the church service. It helped that he already KNEW the story of the first Christmas well enough, but the old-timey words used in the Bible still got confusing. He wondered how in the world Alex managed to understand when they read from OTHER parts of it that hadn’t been re-told in movies and TV shows hundreds of times. He was also beginning to wonder what was taking Alex so long. He KNEW his fiancé hadn’t actually left in search of cookies, but peeing shouldn’t take THIS long, right? He was beginning to worry something bad had happened. Alex felt extremely safe here. He talked all the time about how open, loving and accepting this church was. But with as many people here as there were today, maybe Alex had run into someone who WASN’T nice. Adam was about to get up and go searching for him, when he saw Alex coming back to his seat, cookies in his hands, and his bladder obviously STILL brimming. Alex’s steps were tiny, the sorts of movements a person would make when trying to carry a very full cup of water without spilling it. He was grimacing, sweaty, and shaking. HAD someone caused him trouble in the restroom…? “Alex—“ Alex sat down, eyes going wide and a tiny squeak falling from his lips. He bent forwards at the waist, then handed Adam one of the cookies. “H—Here.” “Alex—“ “Alex!” Prudence whispered, a little too loudly. “Can I have one, too?” “Y—Yeah,” Alex handed her one, then passed out the rest. Now that his hands were empty, it was incredibly difficult not to put them between his legs. His knees jiggled, he leaned against Adam, searching for any kind of comfort. Adam took a bite of his cookie, then gripped Alex’s hand. “Are you okay?” He asked softly. Alex shook his head, and his answer was barely audible; “The line for the bathroom is really, really long…” Oh… Adam almost felt a little relieved when he heard that. Alex was safe, just super desperate for a piss and unable to go. He rubbed Alex’s arm, trying to soothe him, though he really wasn’t sure how to help. The line must have been atrocious if Alex had decided to just leave it without peeing. “Are there other restrooms?” “No,” Alex said, miserable. “I— I’ll wait…” He tangled his legs together, tucked his hands beneath his thighs, sitting on them so that he wouldn’t grab himself. Adam hoped he could… Alex had been desperate to pee during church services LOADS of times before. There had been plenty of occasions where he’d just needed to relieve himself and Papa wouldn’t allow him to get up to take care of it. He could still vividly remember an incident that took place at his old church when he was much, much younger. All the little kids were being read a picture book about Noah and the great flood, and Alex was having what he considered to be his first REAL emergency. He kept waving his hand around, eyes going wide and watery, but no one asked him what was wrong or told him he could go to the bathroom. He’d MOSTLY managed to make it, but when Papa saw that he’d gotten his skirt a little wet, he’d been in lots of trouble. Then, when he got older, there was the time the door to the restroom at his old church wouldn’t come open. He’d had to hold a dangerously full bladder through the entire service, and every time they paused to pray, Alex could only think to pray for the door to start working again so he could go. The praying must have worked, because the door swung right open the next time Alex tried it, but it had been a seriously close call. This time, his need felt even more dire. Getting up, going to the restroom, and being denied access to it by the line had teased his poor bladder, had made it angry. Alex hoped that maybe the line would be mostly gone by the time they were getting ready to leave. He’d… He’d have to tell everybody to wait on him while he went, though! They’d know it was an emergency then, too, because the ride back to his Mom’s house was only about twenty minutes! 

Ohhh, that would be so embarrassing! But, the very THOUGHT of getting back into the bouncy van with his bladder even FULLER made him feel like he’d spring a leak! The service was pretty long, like it always was on Christmas. It felt so much longer this year, though. Alex could feel every drop of liquid stretching him out. He kept wriggling in his seat, accidentally kicking Adam a few times. Twice, he nearly shot to his feet and ran back towards the restrooms to see if the line was any better. But, he knew if he got up he’d immediately be doubling over, clutching himself, and as the only person standing, it would be easy to notice… Alex was blinking back tears when the service ended, stunned that he’d made it through without at least dribbling into his pants. Everyone started to stand up. Alex’s Mom helped his Grandmother to her feet, and Adam had to help Alex with the same thing; His desperation affecting his ability to move as badly as aging joints would have. Alex kept clinging to Adam’s hand as they began to leave, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders when Charity said that she needed to “go potty”. Prudence chimed in that she had to pee as well, and so did Mary and Ben. Alex exhaled, of course the younger ones would have to go after sitting still for so long. It only made sense that they’d stop at the restrooms before heading home— Alex could relieve himself without having to single himself out, or admit that it was an emergency. Then they actually got TO the restrooms, and Alex’s hope died. The line for the men’s had somehow gotten even longer, and the one for the women’s was at least twice as bad. Alex worried at his lip, stepping lightly between his feet as he stared miserably at the mass of people separating him from badly needed relief. He hoped he could hold MOSTLY still beside Ben as they waited, and— “I can wait ’til home,” Charity said. And Alex’s chest clenched along with his bladder. Heat bloomed on his face, and dampened his boxers. He’d finally lost a spurt, and at the exact moment his MUCH younger sister had announced that SHE could hold it until they got home. “A—Are you sure?” He managed to force out. “Uh-huh,” Charity said. “Th—The rest of—“ Prudence nodded, and Mary copied her. “Yeah,” Ben said. “I’m fine.” Adam watched as Alex’s blush spread down his neck, panic filling his wide eyes. It was obvious that ONE of the siblings DIDN’T think he could make it home in time… Mom started walking again. “Alright, lets’s—“ Wanting to spare Alex some embarrassment, Adam spoke up, “Um… I’m real sorry, but I need to go sorta bad, actually…” Mom looked back and forth from Adam to the line for the men’s room. “It will take you just as long to get through the line as it will for us to get home… Do you think you can try to make it?” “Er…” Adam did his best to look uncertain, copying a few of the jiggling bounces Alex was doing, performing them in a much more exaggerated manner. “I— I don’t know, honestly. I’m kinda bursting for it.” Charity giggled, causing Adam to blush even though he WASN’T actually having an emergency. “You can have the first turn,” she said. “Uh—Um… Okay…” Adam said, accepting that his ploy wasn’t going to help Alex. Everyone got into the van. Alex was careful NOT to sit in the back this time, tucking himself against Adam as they drove off. Adam did his best to use his body as a bit of a shield for Alex, giving him some privacy to fidget. Every time they hit a bump, Adam squeezed Alex’s arm, trying to assure him that it would be okay. Alex’s legs knotted together, scissored back and forth, and he finally gave in and grabbed his crotch when a large bump in the road made his bladder jolt so forcefully that a jet of pee splashed into his boxers. His eyes blew wide open and his pupils darted back and forth, fearful that someone had heard his leaking. Adam had, and he was pretty sure he was the only one that had, but just in case the hissing had been loud and clear to everybody, Adam grabbed himself and moaned to give the illusion that HE’D been the one to momentarily lose control of himself. “Ohhhh….” Prudence, giggled from the back. “Is Adam gonna pee in his pants?” “I— I hope not…” Adam grunted, tapping his feet frantically. “But, I gotta be at a bathroom soon!” Alex’s Grandmother turned around to look at him. “Oh, dear… It’s not hurting, is it?” Adam tried not to look at Alex, tried not to speculate on whether or not HE was feeling pain. He just shook his head. “No, but I— I just need a toilet fast, okay?” “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Alex’s Mom said. “Hang in there.” Alex whimpered into Adam’s shoulder, curling his fingers around his arm as Adam stroked him gently again. Once back at the house, Alex stayed clinging to Adam as the others got out of the van. His Grandmother turned back around, “Do you need Alex to help you stand?” She asked. “Y—Yeah,” Adam said, starting to bounce his knees again. It was sort of hard to remember to pee dance when he didn’t actually need to go… Alex was having no trouble remembering. He was shuddering beside Adam, eyes squeezed closed. Adam waited a couple moments, then gingerly helped him to his feet outside. Everyone else had already gone in, giving Alex all the privacy he needed to wriggle and clutch himself, sweat cascading down his forehead in spite of the cold, Winter air. Once Alex had a better handle on himself, Adam assisted him with taking slow, careful steps back through the front door. “I’ll use the bathroom further from the door,” Adam whispered to him. “You use the other.” Alex nodded as Adam opened the door for him and ushered him inside. Adam, still trying to keep up the pretense that HE was the one about to explode, said “Ah— Th—Thanks, Alex—Oooh— I c—can barely walk!” He grabbed himself, rushing for one of the bathrooms as if he really WERE about to burst. Alex straightened himself out painfully, he only had to make it about twenty steps without either peeing himself or breaking out in a desperate, obvious dance. He walked on stiff-legs, his bladder bouncing with each step, slamming all around inside his body and issuing the occasional drip into his boxers. When he got the restroom, the door was shut and he could hear a stream flowing into the toilet. His abdominal muscles all tightened and his crossed his legs, his balance going wobbly. When he heard the toilet flush, he bent over in an agonized curtsey. ‘My turn next, please…?’ He thought. The door opened, and Charity walked out. Alex looked back and forth, Mary was standing outside the door to the restroom Adam was using, Prudence was behind her… Alex could go now, right? Did he have to offer to let them use it first? He— He NEEDED it so much more… He was bursting, his crotch felt damp, he was coming apart at his seams, he had to— Ben started to head into the bathroom ahead of him, and Alex winced, barely aware he was speaking; “I— I was nex—“ “Alex,” Ben said. “Can you hang out with me now?” Alex’s lip trembled. He didn’t have time for any more delays. “I—“ “I wanna play a game with you,” Ben said. Alex remembered Prudence bemoaning Ben’s desire to play some ‘gross game’. He was curious, but not curious enough to continue putting off his pee break. “But—“ “Do you have to use the bathroom at all?” Ben asked. Alex’s trembling ceased for a second as a furious blush overtook his face. He supposed he probably HADN’T been hiding it that well these last few moments, and without Adam there to hide him, the tension in his body and the rocking of his feet would be easy to see. “If you don’t, can you go drink something?” Ben requested. “‘Cause, I already need to go, and I wanted to sword-fight with you!” “Wh—What?!” Alex breathed, chest and shoulders scorching pink. “I—It’s a game,” Ben said. “We pee together, and—“ “I— I know what it is!” Alex said. He’d played this game with Adam a couple times, and he would welcome the opportunity to play it now— He’d get to relieve himself without confessing to how desperate he was. “A—And… Yes. I guess I could go now.” “So, can we play?” Ben asked, hopeful. “Come on, I’ve wanted to ever since you first said you were gonna start being my brother now! I mean, it was the first thing I thought of!” Alex nodded eagerly, “Y—Yeah, we can play!” He said. “I’d love to!” He gripped the edge of his shirt with his hands, trying so hard not to hold his crotch again. He followed Ben into the restroom, biting down hard on his lip when he saw the toilet. He wasn’t able to stop the little whimpering moan when shooting pangs of urgency bolted through his body. He crossed his legs back together, ankles rubbing and thighs twitching. He was certain that Ben could tell now. But, Ben wasn’t looking at him, he was busy lifting the lid and seat on the toilet. “It’s alright,” he said in response to Alex’s distressed sounds. “If some gets on the floor, I’ll clean it, since this was my idea.” Alex hurried up to the toilet, one hand at his zipper, poised to yank it down. His fingers toyed with the pull tab, his bladder fluttering at the sight of the bowl. It took everything he had not to plead with Ben to hurry up. Alex had never been so excited to play a game before. Ben stood next to him, and when Alex heard his zipper being moved, he frantically got his own clothing apart and aimed. It only took one second for his stream to start exploding out of him, noisily cascading into the bowl and instantly filling him with a light, loose, floaty feeling. Then, he was shivering, sighing and panting with relief as his body shook. “You were supposed to wait for me to tell you to start…” Ben mumbled, snapping Alex back to reality, reminding him that he WASN’T alone, enjoying his relief in solitude. A second stream appeared beside his own, and quickly crossed over it. Alex tried to engage Ben in the silly game, but he was far, far more focused on how good it felt to finally just GO. His bladder almost felt like it was rippling, his lower abdomen being lightly massaged as more and more pee was ejected out of him. “Whoever pees the longest wins,” Ben said, laughing. “And, I drank lots of sodas before church, so it’s gonna be real hard for you to beat me!” Alex doubted he’d have much of a challenge… And he thought he should probably scold Ben for drinking so much and then holding it, not that he was really one to talk about that today. He’d gotten dangerously close to overflowing— He HAD overflowed, really, he’d leaked multiple times, the clamminess of his boxers was still noticeable. Of course, Ben finished up first, and he seemed to be both disappointed and surprised by that. “Whoa…” he said. “You’re still going?” Alex shivered again, much more from embarrassment than relief. “Y—Yeah…” he said. He didn’t think he was close to finished, either. He could still feel his bladder deflating, could still feel the bloated organ shrinking down to a more manageable size. Some of the haziness was fading from his mind now, he was able to process things that weren’t related to how badly he needed to pee, or how amazing it was to actually go. He was able to actually think about things he’d glossed right over moments ago. Specifically, Ben saying that his very first thought after Alex had come out as trans had, apparently, just been about getting to play a peeing game with him… Alex remembered how scary it was to tell his siblings; Jed and Patience, the two oldest, had both rejected him like Papa had and he never saw them anymore. The littlest ones hadn’t thought too much of it, to them it was simple; At first, Alex was their sister, and now he was their brother. He was the same person who’d tucked them into bed every night and played with them, he just looked different than he’d used to. Ben was the middle child, and his initial reaction had been hard for Alex to figure out because he hadn’t SAID anything, and his facial expression had been unreadable, blank. In the time since, he’d always called Alex “he” and his “brother”, but they’d never talked about it and Alex had worried if, deep down, Ben didn’t like to think about it. Now though, Alex was sure there was no problem. Ben was happy to have Alex as a brother, and had only ever been thinking about the “guy stuff” they could do together now. As he finished peeing at last, Alex shivered one more time and felt his chest heating up. This time, the warmth had nothing to do with embarrassment. Ben probably had no clue how good he’d just made Alex feel, in so many ways. Alex turned to the sink as Ben spoke up again. “Woooow, that was a lot!” He said. “I really didn’t think you’d beat me, ‘cause I honestly had to go bad by the time we got home, but… I’ve never gone THAT much all at once before!” Alex turned red. “Er… Well, I’m… Bigger than you, so my bladder’s probably bigger, too.” “I guess…” Ben said. “But… that was ‘I guess I could go now’?” He repeated Alex’s words from earlier. “I would have thought you’d been about to have an accident!” Alex looked away. “Eheh… Uh, I guess I had to pee worse than I’d thought. All of Adam’s squirming must have rubbed off!” He tugged at his hair anxiously. “Um… Speaking of him, I’d better make sure he made it alright.” He left the restroom, finding Adam resting on the couch. He sat beside him and gave him a quick hug. Adam hugged back, “You feeling better now?” He whispered. “Yeah,” Alex said. “Thanks for… For pretending that you were the one having an emergency.” “No problem.”
  7. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt “In Snow”. Kenneth’s birthday is December 8th, for anyone who wants to know the exact date. *** Kenneth thought it was a little ironic that he’d been born in December. He was the sort of person that loved warm weather, the tropics, beaches, swimming— Basically anything to do with Summer. And he was the sort of person who hated feeling cold, hated trudging through snow, REALLY hated SHOVELING snow— Pretty much anything to do with Winter. He really thought he SHOULD have been born in the Summer, because then he’d have ideas of what he’d want to do to celebrate. What could he even DO when stepping outside made it feel like all his limbs were turning into icicles and just taking a few steps through the stupid snow was enough to exhaust him? He didn’t really celebrate his Birthday that much anyway. He hadn’t for years. The last time he’d done anything for it had been when his Mother was still alive and she’d knitted him a toy flamingo that he’d named Pinky and treasured with all his heart. Until a few months later when his Father threw it into the fireplace. Kenneth had sobbed as he’d watched his dear friend smolder into ash. After that, he’d just never done anything for his birthday again. When his Mother was still around, she’d ask if he wanted something special, and he’d just say no, because he knew Father would destroy it, so it was better if he just didn’t have things. Once Kenneth had explained why he didn’t want gifts anymore, Mother had gotten a look on her face that he hadn’t been able to understand. Of course, Father had never done anything to acknowledge Kenneth’s birthday himself. He told Kenneth time and time again that he was not something that deserved to be celebrated. Growing up, Dwight had always tried to get Kenneth something for his Birthday, and was only successful one year when he managed to dig an old, worn atlas out of a trash can. He knew Kenneth loved maps, so it was the perfect gift. Kenneth had been grateful for it, even tearing up a little, but he’d insisted that Dwight keep the atlas to himself. “I’ll look at it when I visit you, but it isn’t safe if I bring it home.” Even when they got older and Kenneth had escaped from his Father, he always told Dwight not to bother acknowledging his birthday. “It’s just another day. It isn’t important.” Dwight thought it was important, though. He didn’t understand why Kenneth disagreed. Bryce didn’t understand it, either. He’d always enjoyed his birthday, the one day of the year no one could begrudge him for wanting to be the center of attention. At the very least, he made sure to give both Kenneth and Dwight the day off, he figured Kenneth would at least enjoy having some extra free time with his friend. When the day came, Bryce was surprised to learn that HE had it off as well. And, even more surprised when Dwight approached him to request a favor. “Could you take Kenneth into town for a little while?” “Huh?” Bryce asked. “I gave you time off so that you two could—“ “I want to surprise him with something,” Dwight explained. “I just need a few hours, okay?” And that was why Bryce was now walking through town with Kenneth. Which wouldn’t be SO bad if Kenneth would talk to him, but he was being oddly quiet. “Dwight’s just busy today,” Bryce said. “He’s not trying to avoid you, if you’re worried about that.” Kenneth managed a nod, but couldn’t talk. He knew Dwight wasn’t mad at him— If Dwight was angry, he always told Kenneth why so that they could talk it out. Dwight didn’t hold grudges or give the silent treatment. But, Kenneth couldn’t speak in order to tell Bryce that because he’d made a REALLY bad mistake. Kenneth hated cold weather for a reason. The simple fact of the matter was that his body didn’t HANDLE cold that well. Anything below sixty degrees and he was shivering. Below freezing, like it was today, and he could feel the chill all the way down to the marrow in his bones. His teeth were chattering so much that he literally couldn’t talk. And he hadn’t properly layered up because when Bryce asked to see him, he’d assumed it would only be for a minute and that he could go straight back inside. So, all he had on was his regular uniform, which felt thick and protective during any other time of the year, but NOW felt like it was made of tissue paper! “Paulson,” Bryce said. “I don’t like when you’re silent. Say something dumb.” Kenneth rubbed his arms frantically, but the friction did nothing to bring up his body’s temperature. “I— I’m s—so c—cold, Bryce…” His body shook, going numb in places he didn’t even know it was possible to feel numb. “Ah,” Bryce said. “Is that all? Let me get you something warm…” A few minutes later, they were seated in the cafe. Kenneth was still shaking from head to toe, shudders raking through him every few seconds. Bryce handed him a mug filled with hot chocolate and encouraged him to drink it. Kenneth did, the warm liquid heating his insides a little bit, but not enough. He still twitched and rubbed his legs together in an attempt to get some feeling back into them. His fingers felt like they were going to fall off— God, he wished he’d at least put on some gloves! They stung and burned as sensation returned to them. To speed the process along, he sucked on the fingers of one hand, hoping the warmth inside his mouth would help. Bryce watched Kenneth as he fidgeted and moved a hand to his mouth. He looked an awful lot like he did when he really needed to relieve himself. Bryce almost asked him if he had to go, but stopped himself. It had been, at most, an hour since they’d left. Nowhere near enough time for Kenneth to fill up. He’d only embarrass the other man if he asked about his bladder now. Kenneth guzzled from his mug and felt a little better once he’d emptied it. He’d managed to stop shaking, but he still felt so numb. “Bryce, I’m still cold…” Bryce sighed and stood up, acting as though getting Kenneth a second drink was an inconvenience on par with being forced to shovel snow using nothing but a rusted frying pan. “Alright, you’re lucky it’s your birthday.” Kenneth finished his second mug just as quickly as he’d done the first. Now that he had something nice and warm in his body, he was ready to walk around some more. The icy wind hit him in the face as soon as he’d stepped outside, and right away he was shivering just as badly as before. Bryce watched, shaking his head. Of course the idiot was freezing to death, he hadn’t put on a coat! Granted, Bryce hadn’t exactly TOLD him they’d be spending so much time outdoors… “Is there anything you want to—“ “I— Sh—Should find a Chr—Christmas present for Dwight,” Kenneth decided, wrapping his arms around his body and bending forwards, trying desperately to conserve body heat. The way he was doubling over ALSO made him look an awful lot like he had to urinate. Bryce shook his head, reminded himself that that WASN’T the problem this time. “You’re buying someone else a gift on YOUR birthday.” “I keep telling you, my birthday’s just a day. And Christmas is just a couple weeks away, so I need to get him something.” They kept walking, and before long Kenneth was experiencing another of the effects cold weather had upon him; It made him need to… go… a little more frequently than he usually did. And being cold did not make it easy to HOLD his bladder, either. The shudders and twitches he couldn’t stop from soaring through his body shook his bladder up like a soda can, just BEGGING for it to explode. And, since he lost feeling in so much of his body, it was tricky to tighten up his muscles and react to the spasms as quickly as he would like to. When Kenneth was a kid, he’d shocked Dwight one frigid Winter afternoon. They’d been playing in the woods, Kenneth dying from the cold but putting up with it in order to spend time with his friend. Suddenly, he was hit with an intense need to urinate, so awful that he’d immediately grabbed himself and exclaimed “D—Dwight, I have to—“ Dwight knew right away, of course, and was already helping Kenneth towards a more secluded bush so that he could help him go, but by the time they were there, Kenneth had stopped shivering. His body had suddenly warmed up a LOT because his bladder had burst and dumped its contents all down his legs. Kenneth was stunned by it as well, shocked not just that he’d had an accident, but that he’d done it outside and where Dwight could see. He’d cried from the embarrassment, and Dwight had tried to cheer him up. “L—Look on the bright side— This means you’re getting more comfortable going in front of me!” Cold made it so much harder for Kenneth to control his body. Everything inside of him went numb and slack. He hadn’t had a cold-induced accident since the one he’d had as a kid, and it was unlikely he’d have one TODAY when they were walking by so many strangers, but he still knew he needed to get himself emptied as soon as he could. Cold could make him go from ‘I kind of need the bathroom’ to ‘Ahhh, it hurts, I need to pee so bad!’ within a matter of minutes. Of course, he had to come up with a place where he COULD go before he did anything else. There were two locations in town where he knew he’d have success; The showers at the bathhouse, and that glass sculpture store that had the toilets with super private stalls. He felt pleased with himself for remembering. And he could probably get Dwight a present at the sculpture store anyway. He told Bryce that was where he wanted to go, and they were on their way without Kenneth having to say one word about needing to pee! Great, he was going to get to handle this without any embarrassment for once! The walk to the shop was a lot longer than Kenneth’s bladder would have preferred. It was RAPIDLY filling up from the two big mugs of hot chocolate he’d consumed. He kept squeezing his thighs together against the pressure, but it was hard to get his muscles to even respond. He was walking on stiff legs already, his frozen joints refusing to bend very much. He was moving in such a pained, robotic way and he felt like he had very little control over his strides. His steps were all too wide, all shaking his bladder and the pee trapped inside of it. He kept walking in front of Bryce so he could grab at himself with his chapped hands. His fingers refused to bend correctly, refused to wrap themselves around his length like he wanted them to. All he could do was mash the flat of his palm against himself, and that did little to quell the loose, floaty feeling within his bladder. Bryce watched as Kenneth shuddered and jerked along the street. His hands kept going around to his front, and Bryce couldn’t help thinking it looked like he was trying to hold his crotch. He HAD had a lot to drink a bit ago, though it was unusual for him to be full enough to grip himself already. They got to the shop, which was thankfully open. Kenneth entered, feeling instantly warmer now that the wind wasn’t constantly in his face. Bryce followed him, “Which one do you think Dwight would like?” “Uh— Actually, I need to go run some water over my hands first— If I try and pick anything up right now, I’ll just drop it,” Kenneth said anxiously. He couldn’t stop bouncing on his feet, shuffling between them. Hopefully, it looked like he was just trying to knock some of the snow from his boots. Kenneth headed for the back, his abdomen going even LOOSER now that his bladder knew it was close to relief. To his shock and dismay, a squirt of pee soaked into his boxers, even though he knew he couldn’t have been THAT desperate already! He was even more appalled at how it had… Honestly felt good. The brief loss of tension was nice, sure, but beyond that… His crotch was getting nice and warmed up now. He cringed at the direction of his thoughts as he opened the door to the restroom— A difficult task since his fingers STILL wouldn’t bend to work the knob correctly. Another dribble seeped out of him as he scurried for a stall. Fuck, he knew he wasn’t even THAT full! Just, all his muscles were so desensitized. It was like his sphincters had been given a powerful anesthetic, putting them to sleep and making them forget their task. Finally, he was in the stall. The toilet was THERE, and the lock was easy enough to pull into place without needing to curl his fingers. At last… He reached for his belt and fumbled it apart. Then, he moved onto his buttons, and found he couldn’t actually work them. His fingers just would NOT pinch against the buttons, he could curl them over partway, but then they just stopped responding. Kenneth jiggled in place, now trying hard NOT to look at the toilet. He waited for his fingers to defrost and get a LITTLE more feeling back into them, but seconds ticked by, his bladder roiled and spasmed until he was crossing he was crossing his legs, and his fingers STILL felt dead to the world. He knew one way to resurrect them— He could ACTUALLY go run them under the faucet to warm them up. But… Jeez, could his bladder HANDLE that right now? It certainly couldn’t handle the continued wait… Kenneth stumbled out of the stall, a confused and pained burst of pee exiting him as he left the toilet without even TRYING to use it. He made it to the sink and used one trembling, stinging hand to crank it on. The sound of the water blasting out immediately sent Kenneth’s bladder into spasms of stark need. His eyes latched onto the faucet’s gushing stream, he couldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried. Waves of piss sloshed tyrannically against the engorged walls of his bladder. He just stood there for a second, then with a moan he shoved his hands beneath the faucet. Immediately, he was doing the most elaborate pee dance he’d done all day. Jumping up and down, crossing his legs, squeezing his thighs and swaying his hips. He was flailing with urgent motion, stomping his feet noisily into the floor, he wanted to grab himself so bad… But he forced his hands to remain under the water. His bladder cramped up hard, contracting painfully and sending another trickling burst into the material of his boxers. “Nnnnh!!” He whimpered, pushing his crotch into the counter. That helped plug him closed again, and he bucked against it, trying his best to blot out the hiss from the sink, the feeling of lukewarm liquid running against his skin. He groaned, leaning forwards and trying to press himself even more firmly against the counter. His bladder was just… Flaring. Nonstop. Pulse after pulse after pulse of chaotic, rabid need. He felt heat trailing down his length and sucked in a sharp breath. His piss was literally right at the edge of bursting right out… “Hhhhnnnnngggg…. Ahhhnnnn…” Kenneth mewled, bearing down against the counter as hard as he could. The worst part was that his hands were taking too long to warm up, the water from the faucet wasn’t hot enough! Wait, no. The worst part was that he now heard the door opening, and that meant someone was going to walk in and SEE him like this— Squirming, moaning, and basically humping the counter all in an effort not to pee down his legs because he couldn’t work his buttons. “Paulson…?” Bryce asked, pausing between the door and a stall. Kenneth wasn’t sure if he was relieved that it wasn’t a stranger or not. “Your fingers are stinging?” Bryce guessed. They were, but that wasn’t the problem! “Nnnh, Bryce, I need to… I can’t…” He yanked his hands out from under the water. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was torture. And, somehow, what he was about to ask for seemed LESS painful. “My fingers can’t bend, and I can’t get my… My clothes out of the way…” Bryce stared for a second, then it dawned on him. “Ohhhh, okay. You know, you look the same when you’re cold as you do when you need a piss…” Kenneth could have lived without hearing that embarrassing little tidbit about himself… “W—Well… I’m having both of those problems now.” He gritted his teeth, unable to believe what he was about to ask for. “Please, can you unzip me?” Bryce flushed bright red, flashing hot and cold. He finally felt as chilled as Kenneth must have. He was going to… To have his hands touching overtop of Kenneth’s… He might even have to touch on it directly, skin to skin, no fabric in the way… At the least, he was going to SEE it. He was still rattled from the last time he’d gotten a good look at Kenneth’s penis. How did someone so tiny have such an… Impressive cock? That had to have been where Kenneth’s missing height had gone to. He’d thought that a few times before, but he was sure of it now. And, that dick being on such a small frame made it look even bigger… Kenneth was probably some kind of proof that being pee shy didn’t have anything to do with ‘size-anxiety’. If Bryce’s was that big, he’d be proud to whip it out and show it off when he had to go. Bryce had played with dicks before at his secret club. If Kenneth ever went there, he wouldn’t have the biggest one, but he’d fit in well amongst the most endowed men. Bryce had sucked off a few of the men, with Kenneth’s size, he’d be one of the ones he’d nearly choke o— Dear fuck, why was he thinking about sucking Kenneth’s dick?! He didn’t want to do that! Kenneth would never want him TO do that! Kenneth was staring at him now, eyes wide and watering. “Bryce, I know it’s weird. If Dwight was here, I’d ask him, but—“ “Okay,” Bryce sighed, rubbing at his cheeks, as if he could somehow erase his blush. “Come on.” He held open a stall for Kenneth, whom followed him in on wobbly legs. “Hurry,” Kenneth urged, bouncing on his heels. Bryce nodded, he reached down to begin working apart Kenneth’s buttons. Beneath the fabric of Kenneth’s uniform, Bryce could feel the distinct lump of his bulge. His hands were… Right on top of Kenneth’s dick right now. He could feel a bit of moisture there as well and realized Kenneth must have been leaking. He was about to make a comment on that, if only to chase away his errant thoughts by starting up an argument, but he couldn’t find the words. Kenneth’s hips twitched and he jiggled a few more times. “Ohhh, hurrryyyyyyy!” Bryce was surprised that Kenneth hadn’t seemed to realize WHERE exactly he was touching. The other must have REALLY been desperate, because if Kenneth could think clearly he would be clamming up with embarrassment. The buttons were out of the way and now Bryce quickly lowered Kenneth’s zipper. Kenneth gasped at the sound, wriggling from side to side. “Nnnnhhh…” “Th—There,” Bryce managed breathlessly. Kenneth stumbled to the toilet and fished his cock out, aiming as best as he could. He told himself to pee but, of course, Bryce was still THERE… “Turn around…” he muttered. Bryce was surprised he hadn’t been asked to just leave altogether, he spun to face the wall, and as soon as he’d removed Kenneth from his field of vision, he heard the powerful, roaring gush of Kenneth’s stream flowing into the toilet, and a fluttery moan of relief. ‘Wow,’ Bryce thought. ‘That was FAST.’ He tried to remember if he’d ever heard Kenneth go that quickly in his presence before, this was definitely the first time. He’d barely even turned around all the way, and then Kenneth was spraying! The strange feelings touching Kenneth’s clothed dick had brought him intensified. Kenneth had made himself piss so easily— Something that he could only do around a person whom he deeply trusted. Bryce tried not to grow too impatient as Kenneth kept pouring out his bladder. He HAD come into the restroom for a REASON, after all. And being subjected to the sound of SO much running water and pleased, euphoric moans weren’t helpful! Of course, there were OTHER stalls Bryce could use, but opening the door to this one just for a second in order to get to one would probably give Kenneth a heart attack— No way was he ready to try peeing with the stall door ajar! Bryce just had to wait for him to finish. Kenneth kept panting, pushing out all of his urine seemed to be warming him up a bit. A lot of the feeling was returning to his body, which was a good thing because he really wanted to feel every drop of his heavy stream exiting him. His bladder was going looser and looser, and finally the last of his burden had trickled forth from his tip. He was able to put his dick back away and zip up by himself, which immediately reminded him of how exactly this particular emergency had needed to be resolved. He’d practically begged Bryce to undress him… Embarrassment scorched through his cheeks and all the way down his neck; Now that his bladder was no longer screaming and he didn’t even have the pleasure of relief to focus on anymore, the reality of what had just occurred was settling. He ducked his head and pushed out of the stall. He returned to the sinks and stared at his flushed face in the mirror. He looked like such a mess, all his frantic bouncing had gotten his hair all out of place, and his face was SO red. There was a certain puffiness in his eyes that told him his desperation must have made him tear up without him noticing it. He waited by the sinks for a moment, unintentionally listening as Bryce relieved himself inside the stall he’d just left. Once Bryce was done, they went back out into the main area of the shop. They found a sculpture of a chili pepper Kenneth was sure Dwight would like since he loved spicy food. Then they headed back. After half an hour of walking, Kenneth was grabbing his crotch again. He couldn’t help it, the cold was destroying him once more, and his bladder was worn the Hell out from his earlier ordeal. Bryce noticed and knit his brow. Thirty minutes wasn’t enough time for Kenneth to get full, except for when he had an infection.“Er…” he lowered his voice, even though no one was around to hear. “You want me to take you to see the medics when we get back…?” Kenneth shook his head. “I’m fine…” he winced. “Just super cold, and I need to… Um—“ “I— I know,” Bryce said. “That’s why I’m worried, because you JUST went.” Kenneth looked away from Bryce, blushing hard and unable to move his hands from his crotch. “Being too cold makes me need to go a lot. I don’t know why, I just have to get back now.” Bryce picked up the pace, hoping Dwight had had enough time to prepare whatever he’d been planning to surprise Kenneth with. The more he thought about that, the more he assumed he ought not follow Kenneth all the way to his room this time. He had a feeling that the ‘surprise’ was of a very private nature. Kenneth made it back to the barrack and Bryce waved him off as he rushed inside, dying to unload a bursting bladder for the second time in the last hour. He got to his room and flung the door open, smashing his palms against his crotch the whole way. Dwight was sitting on his bed, but sprang up when he saw Kenneth. “Kenneth, I have—“ “Can’t talk,” Kenneth whimpered, kicking off his snow covered boots, then hopping between his socked feet. “Gotta pee…” “Oh,” Dwight said. “Well, can you wait a minute? I wanted to—“ Kenneth crossed his legs and shuddered. His bladder was fully aware that he was in his safe place right now, so all bets were off. If it wanted to forcibly drain itself, nothing was going to prevent that from happening. But, his fingers probably DID need a little time to defrost before he could manage with his clothes… “Ah— Okay, but ONLY a minute!” “Okay,” Dwight said, he went back to his bed and retrieved something from beneath his pillow. He hid it behind his back until he was by Kenneth’s side. “I hope you like it… I worked really hard, and—“ “Nnnh, I’m sure I will. Just show me? I’m kind of in a hurry, remember?” Dwight held the item out for Kenneth to see, and… It was Pinky! Kenneth’s hands lurched away from his crotch and he grabbed the little flamingo. It really WAS Pinky, same face and everything— He’d come back! Kenneth was surprised when he felt a trickle of liquid. Wetness rolled down his cheeks and he blinked his eyes to try and prevent more tears from flowing. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t supposed to cry… “I remembered what you said happened to the one your Mom made you when you were little,” Dwight said. “And, I got some stuff in town, and Elizabeth showed me how to put it together, and I… I hope it came out right.” Kenneth pulled Dwight into a very, very tight hug, squeezing their bodies together, and… Smooshing the absolute FUCK out of his still VERY irritated bladder. He stumbled backwards, “Ah— I forgot, I still have to—!” He spun around and hurried into the restroom. Dwight smiled, hoping that Kenneth would give him another, longer hug once he’d relieved himself. He was halfway back to his bed when he heard his friend groan, “D—Dwight? My fingers are frozen stiff, c—can you help me with the zipper?”
  8. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Wetting the bed on Christmas Eve". *** It was Christmas Eve, and Adam had gotten a special surprise for Alex. “You can have one of your presents early,” he told him. “I know how excited you get on Christmas, and that you have trouble sleeping…” He produced a box from behind his back. “So, I thought you’d like this tonight.” Alex looked over the box, which contained a peppermint tea mix that claimed it worked as a good natural sleep aid. Alex agreed that he could use the help tonight— He was so looking forward to giving his younger siblings their presents tomorrow that it probably WOULD be tricky for him to get to bed! Adam mixed the tea up for him, and Alex drank it. The minty flavor tingled on his tongue and all the way down his throat. It was so warm, too. Soothing, and heating up his body. He finished one cup, and asked for another. Adam obliged, and Alex polished this one off too, already feeling more tired than he had before. He yawned. “Mmmf, thank you Adam,” he said. “I think it’s working…” His eyelids drooped. “Heh, okay,” Adam said. “Let’s get ready for bed, then.” They showered and changed into their pajamas, Alex nearly nodding off the entire time. The shower water was so warm, like a blanket. Adam kept having to help him loll his head back up. “Aww, maybe I should have given you the tea after this, I didn’t think it would work so well on you.” As Alex blearily brushed his teeth, Adam relieved his bladder into the toilet. Alex finished with his teeth and started to stumble out of the room, but Adam stopped him and told him to go pee first. “R—Right…” Alex mumbled, unbuttoning his pajamas and tiredly guiding his stream into the toilet. He shivered, his bladder shrinking and making him realize he really HAD needed to go. It was a really good thing Adam had reminded him. Finally, Alex was in bed, beneath the nice, warm covers and Adam had joined him a minute later, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his forehead. “Goodnight, sweet thing…” he whispered. Alex snuggled against him, thinking about tomorrow. They were going to tell Alex’s Mom that they were engaged tomorrow. He had a feeling she’d be very happy to hear that. And, soon, when they cuddled in bed like this, they’d be doing it as a married couple. He wondered if it would feel different then, if all the fuzzy, soft warmth in his chest would be even better… “I love you…” he said softly before finally succumbing to his drowsiness. *** Alex was at the shopping mall, trying to remember what he was supposed to buy. But, he couldn’t remember, because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t even breathe! All he could do was focus every last scrap of his energy upon a tight, boiling ball of tension flaring angrily just beneath the taut skin of his abdomen. If he could just please, please, please get to a bathroom soon… Getting ANYWHERE soon wasn’t going to be easy. Alex’s shorts felt like a binder over his bladder, and every step seemed to jostle him with a purposefully cruel amount of motion and brought a hard, stinging pressure between his legs. It didn’t help that Alex had no idea where the bathroom even WAS. If he could only find a toilet— Or maybe just a map telling him where the toilets were, he’d be okay! As it was, the agony in his core was only building and building with no end in sight! Ooooh, where was Adam? Adam HAD come with him, right? Alex needed to relieve himself so badly that he couldn’t remember ANYTHING about the last hour or so of his life. He spotted Adam a little ways ahead of him, looking into the window of one of the stores. Alex took off towards him, the harsh lurching of his feet causing his bladder’s contents to slosh blisteringly strong against his opening. He made it to Adam’s side and wrapped a hand around his partner’s arm, gasping out “Adam, Adam— I gotta— I need the bathroom now!” “O—Oh,” Adam said, turning to run a soothing hand down his back. “Poor thing… You should have said something earlier!” Had Alex tried to speak up before now…? He couldn’t remember THAT either, but apparently he must have stayed silent about his need until right this very second when he felt moments away from creating a huge puddle on the floor. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, hoping from foot to foot, his shoes clicking loudly against the ground. “Aw, it’s okay,” Adam said. “I’ll find you a bathroom really fast, I promise.” Adam led him off, and Alex bit back an anguished cry when he looked down and spotted the considerable bulge of his bladder. It was protruding out in a very noticeable ball on his small frame. He didn’t just FEEL like he was going to explode, he LOOKED like he’d explode, too! Alex was taking such slow, careful steps, knowing all too well how devastating the wrong move could be for his body. He gripped himself, letting out tiny mewls of discomfort. His bladder sloshed, pee struggling against his trembling exit. His sphincters were assailed by a horrendous pain, heaviness bearing down against his aching urethra. “Ahhhnnnn—!” He grunted. “Alex?” Adam asked. “I think we’re close, just hang on…” “I’m gonna burst…” Alex said tearfully. “I have to go so bad!” “Shhh…” Adam said, taking hold of the hand Alex didn’t have worked against his crotch. “Just a little further… Let’s go… Right here…” Alex looked up and saw Adam shoving open the door to a restroom. Finally, finally… Peeing was all he could think of as he hobbled past the threshold, thoughts of the urinal that he was about to see making his jaw tighten and his stomach flutter. He couldn’t stand this much longer… He stumbled further into the room, glancing back and forth until he spotted the long row of urinals… Which had been installed about six feet above the floor for some reason. Alex couldn’t possibly reach high enough to pee into any of them. He didn’t think he’d ever seen ANYBODY that would be able to release their stream so high up! It was such a weird way to set up a restroom, and Alex had to assume whoever had done it had just thought it would be funny. Alex didn’t think it was funny, but at least he could see two stalls on the other side of the room. He’d be able to use those! He rushed towards them and opened one of them eagerly. Then his heart sank and almost crashed into his full bladder as he saw what was inside. Instead of a toilet, there was a very expensive looking, velvet reclining chair. He couldn’t be meant to pee on that, right? The chair didn’t appear stained, and it didn’t smell bad, so it seemed nobody else had ever peed onto it. Ohhhh, but Alex had to go somewhere! He’d… He’d go on the chair! If they didn’t want him urinating on it, then they shouldn’t have put it in a toilet stall! “Nnnnh!” He cringed, his throat insultingly dry in spite of all the liquid fighting to break out of his body. His hands flew to his zipper and yanked it down. ‘I need to— I can’t hold it— I need it now!’ His brain screamed, lost inside of his desperate haze. He pulled his prosthetic out and took a deep, deep breath as he shut his eyes. If he didn’t see the chair, it would feel less weird! He felt his pee right at the edge of his sphincter, and was already starting to shudder in anticipation of the mind breaking relief he was sure to feel any second now. But, then he heard Adam, “O—Oh, Alex! Don’t go!” Every muscle Alex had cramped and his liquid retreated into the agonizing walls of his bladder once again. “But, Adam, I NEED t—“ “This isn’t an actual bathroom,” Adam said. “They’re shooting a movie here, it’s one of the sets.” Alex zipped up, deciding that explained the oddness of this restroom. He pushed his way out of the stall. “Find me somewhere I can go, please?” He begged. “Of course,” Adam assured, leading Alex back out of the ‘restroom’ and into the main mall again. The mall looked different somehow now. It was a lot more empty, the benches were gone and some of the stores Alex had been certain were open before were now gutted and closed, and they seemed to be more spread out than before, too. There was a vast expanse of vacant floor that spread out in all directions, and Alex couldn’t see far enough to spot a bathroom. ‘Didn’t Adam say empty space freaks him out?’ Alex recalled. Sure enough, Adam turned to Alex with an odd look on his face. “Jeez, this place is kinda creepy…” he said. “We should leave.” “B—Bathroom first?” Alex asked, eyes watering. “I’m sorry, I need to go super bad…” “R—Right,” Adam said. “Don’t worry… Maybe there’s a bathroom upstairs.” Adam headed for the elevator, and Alex tried his absolute best to trail after him The spasms that moved through his absolutely FULL bladder were so intense that he was fighting hard not to cry. The elevator may as well have been three cities away with how much strength it took Alex to walk to it. Inside Alex leaned against the wall and crossed his legs, his thighs squeezing and his hands clutching in between them. Adam hit the button for the next floor and Alex begged for the elevator to move fast— And for there to be a usable bathroom right in front of those doors the second they opened. His bladder was a painful, swollen balloon inside of him and there just wasn’t room in his body for it! “Ooooohhhh,” he moaned. “Nnnnh…. Adam— I can’t…” his face was all squished up, mouth dropping open as he panted frantically, almost hyperventilating. “It’s okay…” Adam came to his side and patted his back, all along his tense spine. “Just a few more minutes…” “O—Okay,” Alex whimpered, feeling a hot trickle roll down his inner thigh. “Ah—!” He gasped. There was nothing in his mind save for the immense, overpowering need to pee and ideas of what he could do to make that happen. The world seemed to all go foggy as he imagined simply giving up entirely, letting everything rush down his legs as he moaned and trembled with relief. He shook his head, he couldn’t, he couldn’t— Another spurt leaked out of him. Then another, and another, and another. “Hah— Ahhhh—! It’s coming out!” He exclaimed miserably. “I—It’s okay, I’ve got you…” Adam said, and then Alex felt his shorts being moved down his thighs, felt himself being lowered, felt something cool beneath his thighs. “Safe now,” Adam told him. Alex’s eyes cracked open and he was staring up at Adam, he recognized the blue tiled walls of a restroom, and the locked stall behind Adam, he looked down and saw he was sitting on a toilet. He could barely believe his eyes, when had THAT happened? Was he hallucinating? “I—“ “You can pee now, Alex,” Adam said. “I carried you here, just let go, alright?” Alex was so exhausted by that point that he simply moaned and told his body to release all of its liquid. He felt the first desperate, eager squirt of pee gush out of him, hissing into the bowl. For some reason, he was having trouble going any more than that. His eyes watered, tears rolling down his cheeks. He just wanted to go… Why couldn’t he go? He had to! NOW! “Go ahead,” Adam repeated. “D—Do you wanna stand instead? I just sat you down since you couldn’t walk, I can help you back up?” “It won’t come out,” Alex said, voice straining with pain. “It won’t let me go…” “Just— Just relax, sweet thing,” Adam encouraged. “I think you waited too long… It’s okay!” One more eruption of pee squirted out, and Alex felt oddly warm as it splashed into the bowl. This was followed by a few more errant drops, not at all the explosion Alex so badly wanted to feel… Why couldn’t he just GO!? Something inside of him was just refusing to let him unclench! “Adam, help? It hurts so bad!” Adam came closer to him, put a hand to his shoulder and rubbed gently. “It will be alright, just let it happen…” A wet trickle emerged and pattered gently into the bowl, and then there was a feeling of something in his center almost ‘popping’, and with that he was at last letting it all loose. A solid, thick stream of pure relief surged forth loudly, an absolute waterfall cascading and spattering against the water within the toilet. “Ahhhhhhhhh….” Alex moaned, eyes fluttering. He was in paradise now, the sensations of release were nothing short of exquisite. He shivered with raw satisfaction, the jet of pee surging, his bladder shrinking, his mouth hanging open with pure delight. Adam began to hug him, rubbing up and down his back. “There you go… Good boy… Good Alex… Just let it go, all better… Poor thing!” Alex snuggled into him. Adam was so, so warm… *** Adam’s eyes cracked open. He felt so, so warm, and a little… Damp? Confused and groggy, he sat up and looked around. His butt felt really soggy for some reason, and he could hear a hissing noise. For a second, he was worried he was in the process of wetting himself, but then he remembered that if THAT were the case, the wet feeling would be on his crotch and he still felt dry there— He turned, seeing a dark stain growing across Alex’s lap and spreading out onto the sheets beneath him. Alex was still fast asleep, a wide, relaxed smile on his face. Oh no… Why hadn’t Adam woken up a few minutes earlier? He could have noticed Alex’s emergency and carried him to the toilet like he’d done once before! He was too late this time, and Alex was going to be absolutely DEVASTATED when he woke up and realized what he’d done! What an awful way to start Christmas, wetting the bed and probably breaking down into tears over it… There had to have been something Adam could do, right? The hissing noise had stopped, Alex had finished going… God, the sheets were soaked, Alex must have needed that really bad… Adam ALSO needed it really bad— He HAD woken up for a reason, after all. His bladder was stretched out and hard in his stomach. He’d been in the midst of a pretty awful pee-dream where he’d been at the end of a long line of bursting men waiting for a single toilet, the line never moving and situated right beside the loudest fountain Adam had ever heard. Maybe if Adam peed the bed as well, Alex wouldn’t be able to tell that HE’D done it? Yeah, they slept in one another’s embrace, if one of them peed the bed, the other would be wet too— As evidenced by the state of Adam’s back. Adam could just force himself to pee now, then when morning came he’d pretend that he’d had an accident— And had been the ONLY one to have one! Adam laid back down and tried to relax his holding muscles. As bad as he needed to relieve himself, he’d thought this would be super easy to do! But, it wasn’t. He’d never deliberately gone in his pants before, and it was hard to make himself do it. Years of conditioning had trained him not to go if his clothes were in the way of his stream. He tried to remember his dream, how desperate he’d been during it, how awful the sound of the fountain had been, how he’d begged everyone in front of him to please let him go first and they’d all told him “Hold it, I’ve been waiting for ages, too!” He thought about waterfalls and rivers, and about drinking huge glasses of water. He thought about toilets and urinals, he thought about unzipping himself in front of one and releasing something he’d been holding for long enough that it was beginning to turn his stomach. Finally, he felt a sharp twinge at his opening, and he squeezed hard on his muscles to allow that to turn into a dribble, and then a stream. Pee gushed out and into his pajamas, rapidly warming them with wet heat. The fabric felt heavy and sticky, clinging to his thighs as more liquid filled it. He blushed hard, he couldn’t believe he was actually doing this! He was peeing himself. And on purpose, too! It… It felt good, there was an immense lessening of the tension inside his body, and it was so NICE to allow his bladder to finally deflate. He pushed to make it come faster as he shut his eyes and pretended he was doing this into a toilet instead. Alex started to stir, his eyes opening a moment later. He heard a very weird noise, and his crotch felt sticky and cold. ‘What’s—‘ He remembered what he’d been dreaming about, and how he’d finally managed to relieve his bladder… No, no, no— His crotch was saturated, he’d— Tears sprang to his eyes, he’d peed the bed, and was STILL going, he tightened up his muscles, but realized he didn’t feel his bladder loosening up, he didn’t feel like he was peeing, so the hissing wasn’t coming from him— He looked over at Adam, seeing the wet spot building on his pants. Oh, no! Alex shoved him, “Adam, Adam, wake up!” He whispered. Adam opened his eyes, seeing Alex looking absolutely panic-stricken. He yawned, and tried to act like he was only just now waking up. “Hm…?” He let his eyes go wide. “O—Oh, no!” He put a hand between his legs, like he was trying to staunch the flow even though he could feel he was nearly finished. “I—It’s okay!” Alex cried out. “I— I think I did that tonight, too.” Adam’s heart sank. Alex HAD noticed his own accident, he hadn’t saved him… Adam felt the last of his pee spurt out and fought back the urge to sigh. Alex at least didn’t seem too upset for some reason, perhaps not being alone had helped? “G—Guess we both didn’t wake up in time…” Alex shook his head and sniffled. “The tea made me sleep too much, and I think it went through me too fast… I’m sorry.” “Hey, it’s alright,” Adam said. “I did it, too. I was… I was having the worst piss-dream ever, I swear.” Alex managed a smile. “Couldn’t have been as bad as mine,” he said. Adam kissed his cheek. “We can clean this up,” he assured. “It’s no big deal… I mean, we both peed before bed, that’s all we could have done about it.” Alex nuzzled against him. “I’m still sorry… It’s Christmas, and now we have to wash the sheets…” “That’s fine,” Adam said, pulling Alex closer. “I don’t mind. I… I feel a lot better than I did in my dream,” he added, trying to find more ways to cheer Alex up. “Don’t you?” “…Y—Yeah,” Alex admitted after a second. “I… needed the bathroom so much that it hurt. It… It feels better now.” “Good,” Adam said, giving him one more kiss. “Let’s get this sorted out and have a nice day now, alright?” “Alright.”
  9. Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Christmas Dinner". Dr. Willow is Ethan, who appears in one of my other fics, No Time For A Break. *** Emmett didn’t want to do this at all. His therapist, Dr. Willow, had said it would be good for him— Had called it Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, or something like that. “You take small steps, doing things that scare you a little until you’re more comfortable, and then doing things that scare you more.” His therapist had had him write a list of all the things he was frightened to do, in order from least-to-most distressing. And, he thought now that he’d made the list in the wrong order, because what he was doing NOW was very, very scary. It was scary to him, anyway. Maybe not to most other people, but to HIM it was terrifying. Number four on his list; ‘Prepare raw meat while wearing gloves’. Since Emmett’s germ fears were largely tied to a phobia of vomiting, he didn’t feel at all comfortable touching raw meat. His skin would become utterly contaminated with the juices, which could contain all manner of nasty things that would make him very sick. And, he’d thought that the addition of the gloves would make it less stressful, since his skin wouldn’t come into DIRECT contact with anything, but they weren’t helping as much as he’d hoped. He could still FEEL the sliminess through the material, and that was enough to make him anxious. But, he had promised himself he’d do this; He would help Dad prepare Christmas dinner by TOUCHING the raw beef and sausage and forming it into meatballs. Something that should have been super, super simple, but it wasn’t. He knew he HAD to learn how to deal with this, otherwise for the rest of his life, the only way he’d be able to eat anything with meat in it would be if someone else prepared it for him. And, it probably wasn’t healthy to base his diet around which foods he could stand to cook by himself. It just wasn’t easy. The texture of the uncooked beef bothered him, and he especially didn’t like the way bits of it clung onto the gloves— If they weren’t in the way, all that stuff would be stuck on his hands! He was already a nervous wreck as he assisted his father with the meal prep, but when he realized he really should have relieved his bladder before coming to the kitchen, it got a lot worse. It was okay to leave the kitchen right now, nothing needed to be watched as it cooked just yet. But, Emmett didn’t really have a way to deal with his clothes so he could pee at the moment. The gloves he had on now were his only set. He did NOT want to touch his zipper (and especially not his penis) with the gloves that were coated in meat juices. He also did not want to take the gloves OFF until he was done needing them, because to put them back ON after he peed, he’d need to touch the contaminated parts with his bare hands. So, he was going to have to hold his pee IN for a little while. His other option was to ask Dad or Shelby to help him take off the gloves and put them back on after he’d peed. Which would require him to explain out loud WHY he was so reluctant to do it himself. And that was the thing, Emmett knew that the ‘Glove Rules’ his brain had spat out for him to deal with were absurd. They would make very little sense to anyone that didn’t live inside of his head. Saying “I need you to help me take the gloves off so I can pee, because I can’t touch my clothes with something that touched the meat. And I need you to put them back on my hands afterwards so I don’t accidentally touch the parts that touched the meat,” would be humiliating. That was one of the worst things about his problem, it was so embarrassing to talk about, and it was hard to get help with something when he felt too ashamed to even bring it up. So, he tried to focus on just getting his job quickly so he could pee before it got too urgent. They always made lots of meatballs for Christmas so that they’d have leftovers to use in other recipes over the course of the next week. So, it took a while to shape all of them. Emmett had been moving rather robotically, wary of accidentally dropping something or allowing the meat to get too close to his body. Shelby and Dad were having a much easier time, they didn’t care about touching the stuff with their bare hands. Emmett had spent ages trying to figure out why things that were so simple for everyone he knew had to be these massive hurdles for him. He thought about that for a bit as he monotonously formed the meatballs, it helped to distract him from his growing urge for the bathroom. So many little things were just so hard to deal with! Emmett always had to buy slip-on shoes. Shelby teased him by claiming he’d never learned to tie laces. But, that wasn’t the reason. He just didn’t want to have to TOUCH shoelaces that had touched the dirty ground. He had to always make sure to bring his own pencils to school, because if he had to borrow one, he wouldn’t know where it had been. He needed to wear gloves to try and help his family prepare dinner, and he couldn’t leave to pee until they were done because he couldn’t think of a way to relieve himself without feeling contaminated. Great, he was thinking about peeing again… He was starting to need to do that an awful lot. And, it wasn’t until this moment that he was realizing how important it was to be able to put his hands wherever he wanted when he had to go. He didn’t feel any immediate urgency to hold himself or anything, but standing still and moving so stiffly wasn’t comfortable at all anymore. But, he now had to pay such careful attention to where his hands ended up that it was like he had to carefully PLAN every squirm he made— Which was next to impossible since it wasn’t as though he could anticipate what his bladder was going to feel like in the coming seconds, what it was going to prompt him to do. He couldn’t allow his hands to touch any part of his body right now— Or even come too close, because what if something dripped off of the gloves and poisoned him? When he had to pee, he didn’t only use his hands to grip himself when he felt on the verge of exploding. He used them to adjust his pants so his waistband didn’t feel too tight. He used them to tug at his bangs since that always helped him feel less tense for some reason. He stuck his fingers through his belt-loops, he curled his hands into fists, he wrapped his arms around himself so he’d feel steadier… He couldn’t do ANY of those things right now. He could only really move his lower body around to help him hold it. He was lifting his feet from the floor, one after the other. This actually seemed to just HEIGHTEN the pressure inside his bladder, though. He sped up his work with the meat balls, biting his lip gently. The bowl of meat was still so full, they still had a lot left to make, and the tingling in his middle was turning into a much more frantic buzz. Again, he considered asking for help. But, apart from being too ashamed of himself to do it, he didn’t really want to open his mouth right now and breathe something in. Again, he was fully aware that he was being silly. That, he thought, was something most people probably didn’t understand about him; He KNEW that his fears were ridiculous, he just DIDN’T know how to make them go away. So, he just kept going, silently enduring his need. He ended up leaning against the counter a bit, placing a tiny amount of pressure on his crotch. Immediately, he was feeling a slight dissipation in the pressure at his opening. The tugging feeling running down his length lightened up and he felt more confident that he could keep waiting. Five minutes later, all of that confidence was gone. He was so uncomfortable, the heaviness of his bladder weighing him down and the counter wasn’t enough of a deterrent for his urine anymore. He kept having all these awful, sharp spasms that ended with painful heat at his opening; He felt dangerously close to letting go of a drip. He needed to give himself a squeeze, a real one! He needed to wrap one hand around his length while the other pinched his tip closed. But, he didn’t dare let his hands touch his clothes or his body. His legs had begun to rub together, knees knocking, ankles crossing. His lower half was allowed to squirm as much as it wanted, and his bladder wanted his legs moving a lot! Of course, it was only a matter of time before his fidgeting was noticed. Shelby noticed his feet bouncing and her first thought was that he needed to go to the bathroom. But, unable to think of a decent reason he wouldn’t simply GO given he was inside his own house, she had to assume something else was bugging him. That was unfortunate, she’d sort of been hoping that he’d get USED to touching the meat the longer he did it, but he looked significantly LESS comfortable now than he had at the start. She considered teasing him, but thought better of it; He’d TRIED, he really had… He’d spent over half an hour so far doing something that he REALLY didn’t want to do, and that didn’t warrant mockery. “Hey,” she leaned in closer to him. “If it’s getting to be too much, you can stop early.” It took Emmett a second to register what she was actually talking about, that she was referring to his anxiety and not his desperation. He hadn’t even considered if stopping early and leaving Dad and Shelby to finish everything was an option— He could pee and not have to worry about putting the gloves back on afterwards. His therapist was going to ask him how his ‘experiment’ went, though. If he stopped now, he’d have to admit he’d been unable to finish because he’d needed to relieve himself, and explain why THAT had prevented him from completing his task. His face was already going red as he thought through the words he’d need to say. His bladder surged so powerfully that he needed to snap his thighs together, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop the little dribble that seeped out. ‘Your therapist is the LAST person you should be embarrassed to say these things to!’ He scolded himself as he formed another meat ball, trying not to show any reaction to the warm spill he felt inside his boxers. God… He was just so ashamed of himself! He’d already started having an accident all because his ridiculous phobias had to turn every, little thing into such a logistical nightmare. He was so pathetic… No one else on Earth could ever possibly have a problem like this. Anyone else, if they had to go THIS badly while they were doing something, and they were AT HOME with the toilet RIGHT down the hall… They’d be able to just STOP and relieve their bladder without issue! But, no. He just couldn’t be normal. Instead, he just held it and grew more and more humiliated by the fact that he WAS holding it. “I— I’m okay,” he told Shelby finally. Dad looked over at him next, and Emmett tried to turn all his focus to the work in front of him. His face burned. Dad had had difficulties understanding him before in the past, when Emmett was little, he’d been so confused why he wasn’t like other kids; Why he got so scared over seemingly nothing, why he did strange things and always did them in the exact same way, why he freaked out if he was prevented from doing one of those things. Dad had tried things like just forbidding Emmett from partaking in his ‘habits’, since that’s what they all seemed to be to him. “You need to take only one shower a day from now on”, “Only two squirts of soap when you wash your hands, alright? And only do it when you’re about to eat or just finished using the bathroom”, “Don’t flick your lamp on and off before bed anymore.” Dad had thought that making Emmett pay attention to his ‘bad habits’ and telling him to stop would help him get over them. “It’s like how I used to bite my nails, you just need to catch yourself when you’re about to do these things, and stop.” He’d thought it would be simple. But, Emmett hadn’t been able to stop, and scolding him about it made him cry and hyperventilate. Dad had gotten a little better a few years ago when Emmett first started seeing a therapist. Dr. Willow had been able to figure out why Emmett behaved the way he did really fast, after only a few sessions. Emmett had always sort of thought that he had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but it made him feel better to hear a doctor confirm it. And Dr. Willow had explained it to Dad after Emmett had asked him to. “These ‘habits’ your son has, they aren’t really just ‘habits’, they’re called ‘compulsions’. They’re things he feels he NEEDS to do in response to obsessive thoughts and anxieties. They help him feel calmer, and he isn’t at a stage right now where he’s able to control these behaviors, resist them and still feel safe. Right now, if he was forced NOT to engage in these behaviors at all, he would be in an almost constant state of panic. What he has can be treated and managed, but it’s a gradual process and we can’t push him too much at once.” Dad had felt bad once he’d heard all of that. He’d been certain that he was HELPING Emmett by doing what he’d been doing, but instead he’d been making his son feel bad just because his brain worked in a certain way. He’d apologized a lot, promised he’d be more understanding, and he HAD been… But, would Dad understand THIS? Even Emmett himself thought it was stupid! Dad surely would, too! Emmett tried to straighten himself out some. His legs were wound together now, he knew it probably looked like he had to pee. He attempted to draw his legs AWAY from one another, but as soon as his dick wasn’t being awkwardly clamped between his thighs, he was leaking again. He had to snap them back together and barely managed to hold back his whimpering. ‘You’re really gonna do this, huh?’ He asked himself. ‘You’re gonna wet your pants right here in the kitchen because you’re too ashamed to explain what all you need help with?’ Emmett’s spine stiffened up, if he pissed himself he was going to be contaminated ANYWAY, so shouldn’t he just go now and deal with the germy gloves? At least that way, he’d JUST get contaminated, rather than contaminated AND embarrassed. He set down the meat ball he’d finished making, and tried to work up the nerve to do this, to just get it over with. He knew he’d feel so much better if he peed, if he just got RID of the awful pressure in his lower gut. His hands twitched, sweat beaded on his brow. “Emmett, are you alright? Do you need to use the restroom?” Dad asked suddenly. Emmett tensed his thighs up more, just being ASKED if he had to pee was making him need to do it more! “I—“ “You’re… Making the same face you always did when you were little and had to pee…” Dad shrugged. “You know that you can, right? You can take a break.” “Mmmm…” Emmett chewed his lower lip. He hadn’t realized that there was a specific expression he made when he needed to go, and he was a little embarrassed to find that out. “Th—The gloves…” he said, as if that would somehow help another person understand the chaos that went through his brain. “What about them?” “I— I only have this pair,” Emmett said. “And… I don’t want to touch my zipper with them on, and— And to put them back on, I’ll have to touch the outsides where the—“ “Have you been trying to hold it because you didn’t want to ask for help with the gloves?” Dad asked. Emmett looked away, shaking with embarrassment and desperation. He’d give anything to go back in time and tell himself to pee BEFORE heading to the kitchen. He remembered he’d even NOTICED that he had to go on his way in here! It had been hours since his morning pee, he’d had lots to drink, the pressure had been clear even then! But, no! He’d been so eager to get THIS over with that he’d skipped peeing, and now he had to humiliate himself! “Don’t… Don’t do that, okay?” Dad said, taking Emmett’s hands and starting to remove one of the gloves. “Just tell me if something’s bothering you. I’m really proud of you for helping out even though it’s hard for you, you’re being brave.” He got the first glove off, and immediately that bare hand flew down to Emmett’s crotch and squeezed. Emmett flinched, he hadn’t even realized that he was going to grab himself until he suddenly just WAS. His face burned. Shelby was looking at the placement of Emmett’s free hand now, startled that it had moved so quickly— The INSTANT the glove was gone, he was squeezing himself. Like, he’d been dying to do it for a while… And had been so scared to touch his body with something ‘dirty’ that he’d not only refused to empty his bladder, he’d also made it even harder to hold. The second glove came off and Emmett wavered, trying NOT to let that hand go between his legs, but he wouldn’t feel filthy if he did that now, and he just HAD to, and— With a moan, he doubled over and granted himself the double-handed grip he’d been dying to use. “Pl—Please tell me sooner next time, alright?” Dad suggested, taken aback by how severe Emmett’s desperation actually was. Emmett didn’t reply, he was too ashamed. He just rushed off and locked himself into the restroom, grateful for how close it was. Another leak pulsed forth when he saw the toilet, warming his just-dried boxers with new dampness. Even the tight squeeze he had on his dick wasn’t enough to keep it in. He struggled with his zipper, alternating between forcing it down a couple notches and pressing his hand back against it when more drips escaped the confines of his bladder. At last, it was out of his way and he was aiming his member in his trembling hands. A typhoon erupted from its tip, colliding loudly with the water in the bowl and producing an ear-splitting hiss. The instant he was peeing, liquid was seeping from the corners of his eyes as well. He wasn’t sure if they were from how awful the embarrassment felt or from how amazing the relief was. Guh… He’d nearly peed his pants in his own house, when BOTH bathrooms were unlocked and available! The whole thing had been so idiotic! Why did he have to DO this to himself!? Why couldn’t he be normal!? Why did he have to be so afraid of freaking EVERYTHING? He was a coward, and he was lucky he’d even been able to make it to the toilet. ‘Coward…’ Emmett had said that word to Dr. Willow once. Dr. Willow had told him NOT to call himself that anymore. “Everyone NEEDS to be able to feel fear,” Dr. Willow had said. “It’s what keeps us safe. If I didn’t feel fear, I may go to the top of a tall bridge and jump right off to dive in the water. I’d get really hurt if I did that, though, so whenever I’m high up, my brain is telling me to be careful and I feel scared. That’s normal and healthy. Think of fear as kind of like a home security alarm, it’s just going off to warn you of danger… But, for some people, that alarm has a couple wires crossed and it’s a little TOO sensitive— It’s going off when you don’t really NEED it to be. And, that doesn’t make you broken, or a coward, or anything else. It just makes you different— I’d even say it makes you brave. You’re afraid of germs, things that exist EVERYWHERE, but you still go out and do things, and touch things. You just have some ‘false alarms’ sometimes, and we can help you learn how to distinguish between the false ones and the real ones.” Today’s ‘glove debacle’ had probably been one of those ‘false alarms’ Dr. Willow had mentioned. But, he’d still gotten through it, at least. He’d helped Dad, and Dad said he was proud of him, and even if he’d come CLOSE to an accident, he still hadn’t actually HAD one. Emmett shivered, the last of his pee being pumped out. He zipped back up and scrubbed off his hands at the sink. He felt a bit better now, and not just because his bladder was no longer bursting.
  10. He didn't make it...
  11. “Wow, that was a lot today,” James giggled to himself as he and Ethan were laying in bed. “It was,” Ethan agreed. “I think that’s the worst I’ve needed to ‘go’ in ages. I’m still kind of sore.” He rubbed a hand over his midsection, the muscles there still felt taut and worn out. His bladder was NOT pleased with him for that marathon of a hold. It was touchy and irritable. By the time they’d returned home, James was absolutely bursting. He’d spent the latter half of their drive crossing his legs and bouncing, repeatedly asking how much longer it would be even though they’d taken the rout from Ethan’s office to their house hundreds of times. Ethan actually ended up speeding a few times because he was so determined to get James comfortable again. Ethan himself hadn’t been that comfortable either. His sphincters and holding muscles had been shot to Hell after everything he’d put them through. Only twenty minutes after he’d finally relieved himself, he was eager to go again. Beyond that, his brain was uncomfortable as well. He knew James only had to pee so badly because he’d had so much to drink right before they’d left. He’d… Drank so much of Ethan’s… ‘But, he told you it was okay,’ Ethan reminded himself. ‘He wasn’t disgusted, and now the only bad thing that’s happened to him is he needs to go… Get rid of it all for good. It’s fine.’ They made it home in time for James to use the restroom. He left the door open while he urinated, as he so often did. The sight of James’s shoulders slumping, and the sound of his pee hissing away, made Ethan’s fatigued bladder cramp up and prompted him to rub his knees together. James caught him fidgeting in the corner of his eye and stepped over slightly without a word so that he could join. Ethan accepted the offer gratefully, pulling himself out and relaxing his weary sphincters. He was relieved in two ways then, first from simply being able to go, and again when he felt no pain as it trickled out of him. He’d been a little concerned that he may have REALLY held it in for too long today and could have gotten an infection. Luckily, there was no stinging or burning, just the calm feeling of his body doing what it needed to do. Ethan’s bladder continued to act up through the rest of the evening. He wasn’t able to make it longer than thirty minutes without needing another toilet trip. It didn’t freak him out too badly, this often happened if he and James played a game and James was particularly unwilling to give him permission to let it flow. He knew his body would be back to normal eventually. As he laid in bed now, he sure was still feeling achey, though… James watched him smoothing his hand along his abdomen and frowned. “You’re okay, right?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Ethan promised. “I’ve gotten kinda sore from holding it before, remember? Are… Are YOU feeling okay?” He asked. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but it had been weighing on him. “I mean, you aren’t… Nauseas, or anything, right?” “Nope,” James said. “Pee’s normally safe to drink, unless the person it came out of was sick. That’s why you can drink it when you get lost in the dessert and can’t find any water.” “I’ll keep that in mind in case we ever get stranded, I guess,” Ethan said. “Okay, good,” James said. “Because, with how big your bladder is, I’m sure you’ll have enough that neither of us gets dehydrated!” “Eheh, yeah…” Ethan started to lay down, but a pain stretching out within his lower stomach and down his sides made him pause with a wince. “Oooh…” James watched with great concern. He had seen Ethan get worn out after a holding game a few times. He had seen Ethan need a day or two to recover afterwards before his bladder was back to normal. But, right now, he was acting more like he’d just run a marathon and all of his muscles had been annihilated. He was acting like he was REALLY hurt. “Are you sure you’re alright?” James asked once more. “Do you… Need, like, a heating pad?” Ethan laughed. “Actually, yeah. That might help,” he admitted. “I did that before once.” 
That meant Ethan had worn his bladder out to this degree at least one other time; One other time that James hadn’t gotten to see. He slid out of the bed. “Okay, I’ll go get the heating pad for you. And when I get back, I need to hear that story, okay?” “Ha, of course. I’ll tell you.” James went into the restroom and retrieved the heating pad, then ran straight back to the bedroom. He was certain he’d made the trip in less than thirty seconds. As a confirmation, Ethan snorted out a laugh. “Wow, that was fast… Someone really wants a bedtime story, doesn’t he?” “Yes!” James beamed. He plugged the heating pad in and let Ethan rest it against his bladder area. He hoped it made him feel better. He didn’t want Ethan to be in too much pain to tell the story! “Okay, lay beside me then,” Ethan said. James did so eagerly, cuddling against his partner, careful not to jostle him around too much. Ethan draped an arm around him, gently massaging him as he spoke. “Okay. So, my first job out of college wasn’t in my own office, of course. I needed a bit more experience first, so I applied to be the guidance counselor at the middle school. I was hired, but the principal and I weren’t often on the same page. There are some people who think psychology is pseudoscience, or that therapy isn’t ever necessary for children— They either believe kids can ‘bounce back’ from things better than adults can, or that they haven’t faced enough ‘real’ problems to need help. The principal was a bit like that. On my very fist day he made it clear I’d only been hired because it was a requirement that the school have a counselor, and if he’d had it his way, then there just wouldn’t be one.” “Well, that’s really mean,” James said. “I hope he didn’t hurt your feelings.” “He did a little,” Ethan admitted. “When you get a new job, it’s not very fun to hear your boss basically tell you he doesn’t want you there. There were arguments sometimes, because part of my job was to help coordinate things for kids that need extra assistance. Very often, he would think my suggestions were unnecessary. There was a student who was very prone to panic attacks when she got overwhelmed. I met with her, her family and some of the staff so that we could set up a quiet space for her to go if she needed it. Her parents and a few of the teachers were on board, but when I went to the principal later, he thought it was all ridiculous.” *** “Amanda is eleven,” Principal Haskins said, speaking extremely slowly. As if Ethan were a toddler and couldn’t understand long words. “Eleven year olds don’t have anxiety and panic attacks. Ethan shook his head. He could tell Haskins that Amanda had come into his office hyperventilating and fighting for breath multiple times now. He could tell him that she’d broken down in tears because she was so scared all of her friends thought she was ‘insane’ because of her ‘freak outs’. He could tell him that ‘eleven’ was actually a pretty normal age to begin experiencing such things,. A sudden influx of hormones mixed with rapidly evolving social dynamics and levels of responsibility created an extremely stressful time, and with Amanda’s older brother moving away to college recently, of course she was carrying heavier feelings. But, that would be sharing things about Amanda that she hadn’t told him he could share. So, instead he tried to calmly explain that anxiety was a completely natural emotion that everyone experienced, no matter what age, and that some people struggled with it more than others. Ethan felt awkward and out of place as he spoke. It was kind of surreal, because he knew everything he was saying was correct, yet being looked down upon by an authority figure made it impossible for him to sound confident. “What does an eleven year old have to be getting ‘anxiety’ about?” “I… Am not able to tell you the specifics,” Ethan said. He’d begun to fidget with his fingers, gripping onto them with his opposite hand and tugging at them. ‘Stop that…’ he told himself. “But, all people face stress, and—“ “Then she doesn’t need special treatment.” “A—As I was saying, there are differing degrees to anxiety,” Ethan reiterated. “Sometimes—“ “Next time you see her, how about you try just telling her to calm down?” Haskins suggested. ‘Right, and then I’ll tell someone with a broken leg to just walk,’ Ethan thought. He wanted to say that out loud, but his tongue felt thick and heavy. “I— I’m afraid it’s a little more complex than that.” *** “We went around and around for a bit,” Ethan explained to James. “In the end, I had to tell the student to just try to come to my office when she was struggling. But, I couldn’t get the principal to sign off on letting her leave class if she felt like she was going to have an attack. It was pretty heartbreaking, she was so upset about her classmates seeing her that way. She started to get teased, and that made her anxiety worse. All I could do was talk to her for a little while every few days.” “That principal sounds awful,” James said. “He definitely was,” Ethan said. “The good news is that it’s been a while since then, and the school’s got a new principal. I still hear from that student sometimes, and I think she’s really starting to flourish now that she’s in another school.” “Oh, good!” James said. “But… Um… How does this—“ “Right, you want to hear about the time I completely wore out my bladder, don’t you?” “… Yes, please.” “Okay,” Ethan said with a smile. “So, as you can tell, the principal did not respect me at all. A few of the teachers did, but not many of them. And some of the other staff members weren’t that friendly, either. I think with a lot of them, they were going along with what the principal said because he could choose whether or not they’d be back for the next school year, and could make their jobs harder if he wanted to… You get the point, I was at the bottom of the totem pole there. Very rarely did anyone think I’d have something worthwhile to say, so I’d get ignored a lot when we did staff meetings. Even when I really, really, REALLY needed someone to acknowledge me.” *** Every so often, the members of the school staff spent an entire day holding a meeting together at the long table in the library. The students loved those days, because the school would be closed and they wouldn’t have to come in. Ethan, on the other hand, didn’t like meeting days at all. He did not at all enjoy working in a place where his boss and the majority of his co-workers thought that he didn’t serve any real purpose. The students were the only things keeping him completely hating his job. Being able to do what he could to help them through their problems made his OWN problems easier to live through. On a staff in-service day, he didn’t get to do any of that. He’d just get to sit there and listen to whatever Principal Haskins wanted to talk about. He could make suggestions about things, but he was rarely even acknowledged when he spoke, and whatever he said would NEVER be taken seriously. During the meetings, Ethan would be made to feel like he was a lot younger than he actually was. He was treated like a small child trying to butt into a grown-up conversation that everyone else knew he couldn’t fully understand. If he wasn’t outright ignored, he’d just be brushed aside, like an irritating fly. Sometimes, it was like Haskins didn’t even HEAR what Ethan had just said to him. The most irritating moments came when Ethan spoke up, was ignored as usual, and then someone ELSE immediately said the SAME thing he just had, and Haskins suddenly exclaimed that THEY’D made a great point. Ethan figured that Haskins was probably trying to get a rise out of him, because if Ethan ever raised his voice or got too emotional, then Haskins would finally have an excuse to fire him and find a new person to fill the counselor position; Hopefully someone who wouldn’t try so hard to make Haskins take the mental health of his students seriously. That was what Ethan thought anyway, and nothing about Haskins’s behavior suggested to him that he could be wrong. In spite of it all, Ethan could not bring himself to truly hate Haskins. He disliked the man, sure, but he did his best to understand that Haskins was STILL a person, no matter how annoying and uncaring he was. Haskins was a really old guy, and while Ethan didn’t want to judge him based on his age, he thought it COULD explain why he had a negative view of therapy. Haskins also likely didn’t remember what it was like to be a kid very well anymore, so perhaps he just didn’t UNDERSTAND that things that seemed super small and trivial to an adult were major catastrophes to children. During one particular meeting, Ethan finally started to actively revile Haskins. He didn’t lose sight of Haskins’s humanity, but clearly saw that he was the sort of person that often acted with very deliberate malice. He was still a person, and he was one of the few people Ethan hated. The day of the meeting got off to a terrible start when Ethan’s alarm failed to ring. He overslept, but luckily only by about twenty minutes. He still had a chance of making it to the school on time so long as he skipped his morning shower. He quickly put on some clean clothes and made his hair look half-way presentable, then finished his coffee as fast as he could, because there was no way he could function this early without it. Halfway through the drive to the school, Ethan noticed the problem. Since he’d failed to shower this morning, he hadn’t gone into the restroom. And, thanks to his tiredness, without actively SEEING the toilet, it hadn’t crossed his mind that he ought to USE it before going anywhere. As he waited at a red-light, he took stock of his situation. Did he need to go? Yes, he most certainly did. His kidneys had been hard at work all night, pumping quite a bit of fluid into his bladder, which he hadn’t relieved since around eight the previous evening. The result was a constant, dull tingle encompassing his abdomen. Recalling a similar mistake he’d made before boarding a flight, one which had ended with him being caught urinating onto a fake fire hydrant meant to be used by service dogs, Ethan knew that foregoing his morning pee was going to cause trouble if he didn’t rectify it soon. As he drove, he passed by a gas station. He wondered if he could stop at it for a quick piss. A glance at the car’s clock told him that wasn’t an option. It was very nearly eight, which meant he was going to be late if he took a break. It was very nearly eight, which meant it had been almost twelve hours since he’d last— Ethan shook his head, trying to clear that from his mind. Yes, twelve hours was a long time, but he didn’t need to go THAT badly. He’d been asleep through most of it, so he hadn’t even been drinking anything. He HAD just finished a big mug of coffee… That wasn’t a big deal! He’d be perfectly fine, and he’d go as soon as he got to the school. Ethan made it to the building in time and found a parking space. When he exited the car and stood up, a tight knot of pressure wound its way through his bladder. He sucked in his cheeks and exhaled very slowly and carefully. It seemed he needed to go a little more than he’d thought. At least he was near a bathroom now. He just had to go straight through the front door, turn down the first hallway and he’d be free. He could forget that this whole silly mistake had even happened. He was able to accomplish the first step with ease, making his way inside the school. He could already feel something inside of him going a little looser, prompting him to tighten his thighs to keep his bladder from getting too eager. It was a good thing he’d been squeezing his holding muscles so tightly as he’d headed towards the hallway, because the sudden slap against his back may have made him leak otherwise. “Ah..?” He turned, seeing that Haskins was gripping his shoulder. “Finally decided to turn up?” Haskins asked him. “We can’t get started until everyone is present. You know that.” “I— I understand that, sir,” Ethan said. He wished Haskins would let go. His hand was too tight, sort of pinching his shoulder blade. And Ethan couldn’t juggle TWO uncomfortable pressures right now. “But, um, I’m actually a couple minutes early… I thought I could use that time to—“ “It is customary that one arrives at least half an hour before we are scheduled to start,” Haskins scolded, but also finally released his arm. That had never been explained to Ethan… He rubbed his sore shoulder as he replied; “I— I see. Very sorry, I was unaware. I’ll be with you all in just a moment, hang o—“ 
“We have waited long enough on you, Ethan,” Haskins said. “Please come take your seat so we can begin.” Ethan wanted to protest. The dressing down from Haskins had, for some reason, ignited a fire underneath his bladder and it now felt much warmer and heavier. Knowing that there were toilets a few paces away made it that much worse. He knew better than to argue, however. And he also knew that restroom breaks were permitted during the meetings, all a person needed to do was say where they were going and leave. Ethan could handle waiting through the introductions before taking a quick break. When he got to the table in the library and sat down in a chair, he was crossing his legs and hoping that it wouldn’t take TOO long before he had an opportunity to excuse himself. Everyone else— save for Haskins— was already seated, and a few glanced in his direction, but only for a moment. He was grateful that they hadn’t lingered on him for too long, certain that discomfort was visible in his expression and posture. Small plastic cups were laid out in front of each seat and Ethan groaned at the sight of them. They were empty now, but soon would be filled with water from the jug Haskins brought in. Now, he wished he really HAD been late, and was bracing himself for the auditory and visual torment that was about to befall his bladder. Sure enough, when Haskins started to pour water into each of the cups, it felt more like the jug was being emptied into Ethan’s bladder. As his ears were assailed by the hiss of moving liquids— which sounded far louder than it had any right to— Ethan wished that he had the ability to turn back time. If he could just go back, make himself wake up a few minutes earlier, he could be seated here so much more comfortably. Haskins continued around the table. The closer he got to Ethan, the more Ethan had to wriggle in his seat. He could see the streams pouring from the jug a lot more clearly now. He could see the way the fluid gleamed in the light, the gentle flow as it trickled down. He leaned backwards in his chair, trying to take some of the pressure away from his bladder. He assured himself that there would be a time— very soon— where he would be able to take a toilet break. He’d be able to go before his urge went from ‘really, really uncomfortable’ to ‘a total emergency’. At last, Haskins came to Ethan’s side. Haskins glanced at him for a moment. Was he looking at him longer than he had anyone else…? Ethan tried to unclench and stop looking so tense. To Ethan’s surprise, he spoke; “You look really thirsty,” he said. Ethan said nothing. He was sure that his face was flushed. He could feel himself sweating. He probably DID look a little dehydrated. Haskins began to fill Ethan’s cup. Ethan clenched his eyes closed against the sight— a stream running out right in front of him! So close, he could hear every drop as it plinked against the plastic. He found himself recalling his last physical at the doctor’s office. Having always struggled with providing urine samples when asked, he’d stupidly decided to get his bladder good and full before his appointment. But, then his appointment ended up being delayed, and he was stuck waiting in the office for nearly two hours, pee stretching him out so far that he was fighting back tears. When the doctor finally showed up, Ethan humiliated himself by begging to please, please be allowed to give his urine sample before ANY other part of the examination took place. His request was granted, and he was graciously allowed to fill (Well, overflow, really) a specimen cup in the restroom. The sound of his pee gushing into that receptacle was identical to the sound he was being subjected to now. But, at the doctor’s office, the noise had been accompanied by one of the most glorious feelings of relief Ethan had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Here, it was accompanied by the sensation of a jackhammer drilling against the hard stone of his un-emptied bladder. Suddenly, Ethan couldn’t take it anymore. “U—Uh, while you f—finish with the drinks, I need to take a bathroom break, okay?” He awaited Haskins’s response, dreading that he’d say ‘no’. But, he didn’t. He didn’t say ANYTHING. When Ethan opened his eyes, Haskins had already moved onto the next person, apparently not having even heard his request. “S—Sir?” Ethan asked. Haskins just kept moving down the table. Ethan tried twice more to get his attention, but then Haskins had taken his own seat and the meeting was underway. ‘Okay… Okay…’ Ethan thought. ‘This will be fine. You don’t have to listen to water sounds anymore, so you should feel better. Just hang on until there’s a lull in the conversation, then you can ask again. He just didn’t hear you. It’s fine.’ The reassurances didn’t do much to calm his bladder down. He’d said the words ‘I need to take a bathroom break’! And that meant he was SUPPOSED to be peeing now! That was how it worked! The full organ was thrashing around inside of him now, frustrated at having its needs ignored. He shifted around again, his ankles rubbing together. He was certain that his coffee was beginning to kick in now, because his urgency was ramping up at a fast enough pace to alarm him. “Alright, seems we finally have everyone here,” Haskins said, looking straight at Ethan. “I’m very sorry,” Ethan said, fidgeting from something other than desperation for once. Now that Haskins’s eyes were on him— now that EVERYONE’S eyes were on him— he thought maybe he’d actually be HEARD when he asked for relief. His bladder cramped and begged him to please, please ask. But, he didn’t want to leave now, not after Haskins had just called attention to his ‘lateness’. ‘But, you weren’t even LATE,’ Ethan reminded himself. ‘You were two minutes EARLY— Which should have given you time to—‘ “So, we’ll get started now,” Haskins continued, looking away from Ethan to address the group as a whole. “There are a few things to discuss today, so this will be one of our longer meetings. We’ll have a short lunch break in a few hours, though.” Ethan jammed his thighs together, taking care to ensure his opening was pinned right in between them. One hand squeezed onto his knee, the other gripped the edge of the table. He swore he noticed Haskins’s eyes flick towards him as he’d mentioned how long this meeting would be. ‘You imagined that,’ Ethan thought. ‘Needing to go is just making you feel vulnerable. Calm down.’ “First thing,” Haskins said. “I’ve noticed some test scores slipping. Ms. Hollow, I understand that even one of the top students in your home room class is beginning to fail exams. You have been devoting all of your class time to instruction, haven’t you?” No allowing the kids to goof off?” This was something Ethan thought he could shed SOME light on. Generally, when a formerly straight-A student suddenly started to struggle in school, that meant something ELSE was going on in their life which affected their ability to concentrate. He also figured he knew which student Haskins was talking about. Her grandfather had passed away recently, she’d come to Ethan a few times to talk about how she’d been unable to stop thinking about him and how much she missed him. Ethan couldn’t give all the details, but he could explain that a sudden, rapid decline in school grades was often a sign that a student needed extra emotional support. He tried to say as much, but he barely even had time to open his mouth before Haskins was speaking again. “I’d like to suggest that we give the students a little extra homework for a bit, more practice before tests should nip all of this in the bud.” Ethan wasn’t so sure. Of course, more studying could be helpful, but that was only a piece of the puzzle. And there did exist such a thing as studying TOO much, being burned out was never good, either. He almost said something, but then his attention was drawn back towards his bladder. Heat started to move down his length. The hand on his knee quickly went to his crotch instead. He blushed furiously, appalled that he was gripping himself in the middle of a meeting. He’d just been so certain that he was about to leak that he’d acted on instinct. At least no one could see where his hand was below the table. So, when Ethan made another attempt to speak up, he did so with the intent to ask for a toilet break. “Ex—Excuse me…” He said, nervous that it was still too early in the meeting to leave. Not that it mattered, because it didn’t look like Haskins had heard him. He just kept talking, giving suggestions on new practice assignments the students should do at home, how much work to give at once, the importance of emphasizing to students that their test scores mattered. The teachers around Ethan threw in their own input, and the librarian recommended a few work-books to find assignments in. All the while, Ethan’s bladder grew more and more irritable. It pulsed and pounded, and he felt heat rushing against his opening. He put both hands in his lap and leaned forwards into them. Everyone was talking over each other, so he didn’t have THAT much hope that he’d be heard, but he gave it another try anyway; “Excuse me, I—“ He cleared his throat, immediately regretting it when that managed to prompt a little dribble of liquid to warm his boxers. “Excuse me—“ No one even looked at him. He tried one more time, raising his voice. “Excuse me!” Nothing. It was simply too loud at the moment. He had to wait for everybody to quiet down again. THEN, he was sure, he would finally be allowed to go. It took almost half an hour for everyone to come to an agreement on the amount of homework each class should give per night. Ethan spent each of those thirty minutes in near-total agony. He’d been unable to stop a few more spurts from leaking out of him, and each one shocked him so much that he couldn’t help but try again to get someone’s attention. It was like he’d been turned completely invisible, though. No one so much as glanced at him, even when he was sure the hissing of his momentary losses of bladder control should have been loud enough to hear. Maybe he HAD somehow turned invisible. That would sure be nice. He could squirm and writhe as animatedly as he’d like. Hell, he could even just get UP and go use the restroom! He knew better than to actually believe he’d developed a super-power though. He knew he was visible, and that if he stood, he would be told to sit back down by Haskins. But— But, then Haskins would be NOTICING him! And he’d be able to say “I just need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” Maybe he should just do that! Clenching his eyes closed and tightening down on his lower muscles, Ethan prepared to stand. He’d been seated for so long with his ankles knotted together that his feet had fallen asleep. He knew getting up was going to hurt, to say nothing of what the change in position would do to the sloshing ball of piss in his middle. Gingerly, he started to force himself upright. As he moved, the liquid trapped within him moved as well. His urine felt like it was rising and splashing around within him. He felt another slam of pressure against his sphincters, and broke out into a cold sweat. When that pressure moved even lower, culminating in a long, slow trickle into his boxers, Ethan stopped what he was doing, sat back down all the way, doubled over, and gripped himself hard with both hands. He couldn’t get up in this condition! Everyone would see him clutching his crotch, like a little kid on the verge of an accident! He needed to wait for this awful spasm to pass, he just needed his body to calm down, he needed the waves of pee within him to settle. Then, he’d be able to carry all of it to the restroom without thoroughly disgracing himself along the way. When he was able to uncurl himself and look up, he saw Haskins’s eyes were latched right on him. He was looking! Good! “Sir,” Ethan said, speaking loudly to be heard over the other conversations. “May I please—“ Haskins suddenly clapped his hands together, starling Ethan badly enough that new warmth re-wet his drying crotch. “Alright,” Haskins said. At first, Ethan actually thought Haskins had been speaking to HIM, had been saying “Alright, you can go to the toilet now, Ethan.” But, of course that wasn’t what he was REALLY saying. Haskins had SEEN Ethan, he’d been looking directly AT him, staring him in the face as Ethan had tried to speak up, and now he was going to continue the meeting as if Ethan hadn’t said anything at all. Of course, Haskins had never thought anything Ethan had to say was important. But, couldn’t he make an exception THIS time? In that moment, peeing felt more important than ANYTHING else Ethan had ever tried to convince Haskins of. If Ethan could just FINISH his statement, if Haskins knew that the only thing he was asking for was permission to empty his bursting bladder, maybe he wouldn’t be so intent on ignoring him? Ethan was certain that if Haskins only KNEW that he had to pee so badly, his suffering would be allowed to end. “I think we’ve gotten the homework thing sorted out,” Haskins went on. He paused as everybody finished quieting down. Then, Ethan saw him look over at him again before his eyes flicked back away. Haskins’s hand wrapped around his cup of water, which he lifted and brought to his lips before taking several long, implausibly loud gulps. Ethan moved his legs around, knees bouncing, as he watched Haskins’s throat move with each swallow. Ethan couldn’t tell if Haskins was a noisy drinker, or if his desperation had made his ears way too adept at hearing water noises, but either way, having to listen to that was making Ethan’s entire lower body ache with strain. When Haskins finally finished with his water, he gave a slow sigh. “Ahhh…” Ethan flinched at that as well, hands digging more firmly into his crotch as he wriggled his butt around in his chair. The people seated directly beside him kept looking over, making him blush. But, he just couldn’t stay still! He’d explode if he tried! His legs jiggled as adrenaline surged through him, a few more droplets still threatening to leak into his already sodden boxers. “We’ve all been talking a lot,” Haskins continued. “I want to make sure everyone is taking good care of their throats. If you haven’t finished your water yet, please do that now.” ‘What? No!’ Ethan thought in horror. The cup wasn’t that big, but it was still way more than Ethan had the room for! But, everyone else was drinking, so that meant he had to do it too. Gulping with nervous dread, Ethan forced one hand away from his groin and used it to pick up his cup. Even just holding it in his HAND was making him need to go worse. He could feel the coolness of it, could see the fluid wobbling in the container, being jostled by his anxious, shaking hand. He took a sip, and his throat contracted when he tried to swallow it. His body did not WANT any more fluid. He forced it down anyway. Every swallow was pain. Keeping his legs crossed, he tried to just focus on getting the cup emptied. His bladder demanded all of his attention though. It felt like a water balloon being squished between two heavy boulders. Another spasm encouraged Ethan to shift again, his fingers doing their best to pinch his bladder’s exit path-way closed. When he’d finally drained the cup, when he’d finally dumped another bunch of fluid down into a container that had no space for it, Ethan had to curl over on himself again, rocking back and forth. He dropped the cup to the table, and heard it rolling, but he didn’t care. He just thrust his now free hand against himself and pleaded with his floodgates to stay closed. His eyes flew back open, it was still quiet, so he gave it one more try. “Please, excuse m—“ “Our next topic of discussion,” Haskins said, voice booming in the room. “Is in regards to the upcoming overnight field trip. There are a few things to get squared away. First, I’d like you to remind all of the students that anyone who doesn’t have at least a C average will not be attending…” Haskins carried on and on, time moving way too slowly for Ethan’s liking. He bounced and bounced in his chair, not hearing a single word of Haskins’s speech. He knew part of his job was to remind the teachers to make note of any medications their students would have with them for the trip, but he was incapable of keeping a single thought in his head for longer than a second. But, then Haskins said something that managed to pierce through the white-noise of need consuming Ethan’s ear-drums. “And, we are going to need a second set of permission slips for the white water rafting activity. We need parents to sign off, and a reminder that their children must be able to SWIM to partake in that part of the trip.” Ohhhh… Oh Goddd… Just thinking about rafting down a river, or swimming in one, or being within five miles of one…. Ethan was about to make an enormous river right where he was! “I— I—“ The person to his left glanced over, and Ethan felt somewhat hopeful. “I have to—“ “Ahem?” Haskins cleared his throat, irritation evident. “You may speak when it’s your turn to speak, Ethan.” “I’m sorry,” Ethan said. Rather than ashamed, he felt nothing but relief. Finally, some acknowledgement. “It’s just that I—“ “As I was saying,” Haskins interrupted. “Rafting can be very dangerous, so we need to be absolutely certain that everyone participating is capable of swimming. We don’t want any injuries. I’ve gone on this trip yearly with the school, that river gets very fast in certain areas, the water really rushes. And it’s loud, too, which causes another problem. It may be harder to hear a student over the sound of so much hissing, splashing, sloshing river-water— That can seriously overpower other noises. Last year, it was so loud in places that I could hardly hear my own thoughts over the spray…” As Haskins continued blathering on and on and ON about the sound of the river, Ethan began to feel as if his bladder was about to rip right out of his skin like some terrifying alien creature. Beyond the pain of his astronomical need to just PEE, Ethan was also struck by an AWFUL realization. It was not that Haskins wasn’t able to HEAR Ethan. It was not that he didn’t notice Ethan had to relieve himself. Haskins KNEW. He knew full well that Ethan was BURSTING for a urinal. He was ignoring his pleas on purpose. He was interrupting his requests on purpose. He’d made everyone drink their water to torment Ethan, and now he was talking about the rafting trip for the same reason. He KNEW Ethan had been fighting off an accident all morning, and he WANTED to make him suffer even more. There was a feeling in Ethan’s chest now. One he didn’t get that often. Up until then, he didn’t think he’d ever actually HATED another person before. He’d been annoyed by people in the past, he’d been frustrated by them, he’d found some dull and boring to be around. But, he had never, EVER met someone and thought ‘You know, I really HATE that guy.’ There was a first time for everything, though, and Ethan HATED Principal Haskins. He could only come up with ONE possible motivation for Haskins’s actions; This was some sort of power-flex. Revenge for all the times Ethan had tried to convince him he was wrong about something. Did everyone else know, too? Was everyone else looking at him, fully aware that he was facing such a private crisis, and actively CHOOSING to keep him away from the solution to his agony? Because, if someone else DID notice that he was filled to the brim with urine, then THEY could have spoken up as well. THEY could have said, “Principal Haskins, you keep not hearing Ethan. I think he has something important he wants to ask!” But, no one had. So, either they couldn’t tell, or they COULD but were choosing not to help him. Ethan was really panicking now. It was no longer a matter of simply getting Haskins’s attention and asking. He already HAD that, Haskins just had no intention of letting him go. This meant that Ethan would NOT be able to use a toilet until the lunch break came. Would he even make it that long? He was suddenly transported back to his very first day of school. He’d had so much juice, and gotten so distracted by all of the new games and new people that by the time he realized he had to use the bathroom, it was already an emergency. Well, technically, it was Miles who realized Ethan had to use the bathroom. Ethan had just been wriggling in his seat while coloring something and not paying any real attention to how uncomfortable his middle was feeling. Miles suddenly asked him if he needed to go pee, and upon hearing that word, Ethan suddenly stopped what he was doing to nod frantically at his friend. Earlier in the day, he’d learned that when he needed the toilet at school, he had to raise his hand and wait until his teacher called on him. Then, he had to say “May I please go to the restroom?” Then he could go after she told him yes. So, squirming urgently, he’d raised up his hand. And he kept raising it for several minutes. His teacher was busy with other kids… He tried waving his hand around some to get her attention. She was always facing the other way! He whimpered quietly, and stood from his seat so he could dance around a little, hand still high in the air. “Say something,” Miles whispered. “Get her attention.” But… Ethan had also learned he wasn’t supposed to talk loudly at school. Not unless he’d been TOLD to. He didn’t want to get in trouble for being noisy. He shook his head. His eyes were starting to water. Miles shrugged, then gave it a try himself. “Ms!” He called out. “Ethan really has to—“ Before he could finish the sentence, he heard a lot of splashing and sniffling from Ethan. It was too late… That had all been so embarrassing! His teacher had needed to call his Mom to bring him a change of clothes. Then he’d heard her telling his Mom that being potty-trained was a ‘requirement’ for Kindergarten, and that had really upset him. He WAS potty-trained, he’d just ALSO been trying to follow the rules! The next day, everyone but Miles teased him, and he was just lucky that little kids didn’t remember things like that for very long since they’d all forgotten it by the end of the week. If he had an accident like that now, he wouldn’t be spared so easily. Most of the people around this table already didn’t see him as an equal. What the Hell would happen if, every time they looked at him, they’d remember the day he completely drenched himself during a meeting? An adult would never just forget about witnessing another adult pee their pants. If Haskins didn’t use Ethan soaking his seat as a reason to fire him, then Ethan would probably just have to quit. There would be no coming back after this. He could NOT allow that to happen. He HAD to hold it. He HAD to make it until lunch, and then… Then God HELP anyone who stood between him and the closest available toilet. His memory did give him one more idea, though. Blushing red at how juvenile it felt, he raised his hand and waved it around urgently. Maybe THAT would get just enough attention that Haskins would HAVE to acknowledge him. Haskins just kept talking though, and carrying on. He responded to comments from some of the teachers, and even LOOKED at Ethan once, but he never once asked. “Yes, Ethan? Did you have something to say?” When he finally finished talking about the field trip, Haskins at last glanced at Ethan again. “Is your arm sore, Ethan?” “No,” Ethan said, VERY grateful to be granted an opportunity to speak. “I just need—“ “Then, stop stretching,” Haskins said. “It’s distracting.” “I apologize,” Ethan said. “May I please—“ “Moving on!” Haskins declared, and then continued speaking rapid-fire, preventing Ethan from getting even one word in. “The next thing we have to discuss; It’s time we make some changes to the restroom policy here.” Fuck. Why?! God dammit! Why?! Was Ethan seriously supposed to just SIT here and listen to everyone talk about— “I’ve noticed that a LOT of students will get bathroom passes when they don’t actually intend on using the restroom,” Haskins said. “They get the pass, and then skip the remainder of the period to wander around the halls and hang out with friends. This is, of course, unacceptable. So an update to the policy is necessary.” ‘Yes, fine,’ Ethan thought. ‘Update the policy. Change it to “Ethan gets to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW,” that sounds like a great policy!’ “As I understand it, most of you have it set up that if a student asks to be excused, you will automatically write them a pass and let them leave,” Haskins said. “That needs to change. Since the students won’t stop using the bathroom as an excuse to ditch class, from now on, each of you will hand out three passes to every student at the start of the semester. Once those are gone, they’re gone. If they get lost, they’re gone. And if they don’t have a pass, too bad, they aren’t going. I’m tired of having to bring kids to my office for cutting class.” ‘That’s a horrible idea, you blowhard,’ Ethan thought. ‘You’re punishing everyone because SOME kids are ditching. Why not just make a list of the problem students and do this stupid pass thing just with THEM for a while? They’ll learn real fast.’ Apart from the few truant students, the OTHER kids actually DID have to go. And only being allowed to get relief three times per semester was going to make them miserable. And Haskins had just been talking about low test scores. ‘Well, guess what, moron? The kids are gonna do a lot WORSE on those tests if all they can think about during class is how bad they need to pee!’ Case in point; Ethan honestly hadn’t heard that much of the field trip discussion, or the homework discussion that had preceded it. The only reason he was able to pay any attention to THIS one was because hearing words like ‘bathroom’ and ‘toilet’ were a vicious siren song to his bladder! Beyond all of THAT, what if a student was out of passes and then just… Couldn’t wait? Did Haskins have any IDEA how devastating an accident would be to a child old enough to attend middle school? Especially if it happened during class where everyone they knew saw? That kind of thing, as small as Haskins may convince himself it was, could cause a LOT of lasting damage. It was an absolutely God-awful idea! At least, this time, Ethan didn’t seem to be alone in his thoughts. One of the teachers, Ms. Yolanda, spoke up. “That seems a little extreme,” she said. “When these kids grow up and get jobs, they’ll be able to use the restroom when they need to. School is about preparing them for the real world.” Ethan nodded, even though part of her statement wasn’t completely accurate. As evidenced by his current problem, when the kids grew up and got jobs, they WOULDN’T be able to use the restroom when they needed to. Or, at least, they wouldn’t if their boss was Haskins. “In the real world,” Haskins said. “If they ditched their job, they’d have even BIGGER consequences than needing to plan their bathroom breaks more wisely.” His eyes flitted in Ethan’s direction. It was very slight, but Ethan was able to notice it. He was certain Haskins had been looking at him when he continued by saying; “And, they shouldn’t be using the bathroom THAT much at work, either. When you’re at work, you’re supposed to be AT work.” Ethan fanned his legs in and out, the area between his thighs felt very clammy. He wasn’t sure if he’d sprung another leak, or if that was just from all the sweat running off of him in buckets, perspiration created by the strain of holding back so, so much… He stared daggers at Haskins as the man espoused the benefits of the policy change. No more skipping out on class, no more wandering around unsupervised. If an incident of vandalism occurred in a restroom, it would be easier to find the culprit if they knew who had gone out at what time… He kept going, talking about how the kids attending this school were certainly old enough to be able to hold their bladders longer than they acted like they could. He even went so far as to say that no one should ever have ‘an emergency’ once they’re passed the age of seven. Ethan got stuck on that statement for a while. He had a suspicion Haskins had crafted it specifically to make him feel more ashamed of himself. But, instead it threw him for a bit of a loop where he wondered if Haskins seriously hadn’t ever gotten desperate since he was a little kid. He doubted that was even possible, unless Haskins had the bladder of a camel. Haskins snapped Ethan out of his thoughts by saying his name. “Ethan!” Ethan froze, finally ceasing to wriggle for the first time in hours. His first thought was of complete panic, and he stared down at himself to make sure that he wasn’t currently in the process of urinating all over himself. His piss was still locked up inside. Good. Well. Maybe not ‘good’. But at least, ‘better than having a public accident’, anyway. “Y—Yes—“ Ethan said. “Could you stop rubbing your shoes against the carpet?” Haskins requested. “The noise is distracting.” ‘Oh, so you can hear THAT,’ Ethan thought. ‘But when I’m trying to beg you for the toilet, suddenly I don’t exist… Right.’ He held his feet as still as he could, but the desire from within his body to keep moving was so strong it was nearly overwhelming. “I apologize, it’s just that I need to go to the restr—“ This time, when Ethan was interrupted, it was by the nerve-grating sound of rushing water, tinkling into a plastic cup. It was such a tease on his bladder that he sucked in a sharp breath and held it there, feeling heat right at the tip of his penis. A drop formed, soaked into his boxers, and was replaced by another. And another. He couldn’t exhale. If he let go of the air, he’d let go of all his piss. He was sure of it. The room was starting to spin. When he finally was able to breathe again, he opened his mouth. “I need a brea—“ “Ms. Wilson,” Haskins said. “What are your thoughts on the new policy.” Ms. Wilson, one of the very few teachers that actually treated Ethan nicely, looked from Haskins to Ethan, then back again. “I think Mr. Willow was trying to tell you something,” she said. ‘Yesssss,’ Ethan thought. ‘Thank you, Ms. Wilson! Thankyouthankyouthanky—‘ “I’ll get to him in a minute,” Haskins said. “I was asking you.” ‘BASTARD.’ “Well, as Ms. Yolanda said, it is a little extreme,” Ms. Wilson said. “I’m not so sure if we should punish all of the children because a handful of them have misbehaved.” “Ah, but it’s not a punishment,” Haskins said. “It’s a lesson. It will teach them to manage their time better, and go during their passing period, between classes.” Ethan didn’t think that would work. The students complained to him often that they didn’t have enough time to walk from one class to the next, as the schedule allotted them only a scant three minutes. If they needed something from their locker, or needed to use the toilet, it was just impossible to make it in time. He remembered when he’d gone to school, how there was always a line for the bathroom between classes and sometimes he didn’t get a turn before the bell rang. That had led to many, deeply uncomfortable afternoons if he wasn’t able to get a hall pass. If he’d been limited to only three of those a semester, there were a few incidents he remembered that would have ended in accidents instead of amazingly relieving pees. Ooooh, no. He didn’t want to remember that! He didn’t want to remember shoving open a classroom door at his old school. He didn’t want to remember speed-walking down the hall to the closest restroom. He didn’t want to remember getting to a urinal and unzipping his pants. He didn’t want to remember finally peeing! But, oh how he did! As each new memory entered his mind, another squirt of pee entered his boxers. Haskins was still talking to Ms. Wilson, and Ethan needed him to stop. “Excuse me—“ And then Haskins must have said something else, because suddenly EVERYONE was talking over one another again. Ethan raised his voice “Excuse me!” Just talking was adding to the weight atop his bladder, forcing out another spurt. “Excuse me!” Trickle…. “Ah—“ He gripped himself and rocked hard into his hands, stomping his feet against the floor. The flow ceased, but the front of his pants felt so clammy. “Excuse me—“ Everyone just kept talking! Only Ms. Wilson seemed to notice that he was desperate to be listened to! Haskins clapped his hands together again, startling Ethan into YET another leak, this time in full force. He could hear it hissing as he regained control of himself. His lower muscles were all exhausted. He ground against his seat in a desperate bid to hang on. Everyone fell quiet just as Ethan finally managed to cork himself closed again. The Math teacher, Mr. Thompson, was the first to speak again. “Er, this discussion is kind of… Getting to me. Is it alright if I take a bathroom break?” Haskins nodded. “Don’t take too long,” he said. It was official. Ethan hated that man, and he was not ashamed to admit that to himself. Haskins had EARNED his hatred, and he’d worked VERY hard to do so. May as well give the man what he wanted. Mr. Thompson stood from his chair, and Ethan couldn’t help but notice how EASILY he managed that. He also could see how Mr. Thompson was having NO trouble walking, either. His body was fully upright, not at all hunched over. He didn’t need to stop at any point. His legs weren’t shaking. He BARELY had to go! Why was HE the one that was allowed to pee? Ethan needed it WAY worse! It wasn’t fair! “Now then,” Haskins said. “I see this suggestion is a little more controver—“ Ethan turned. “Sir, I—“ “Ethan,” Haskins cut in, and Ethan was again stunned by the acknowledgement. “Could you please stop trying to interrupt us? We are having a discussion here, remember?” “But, I—“ “At the moment, our topic is classroom management. YOU do not run a classroom,” Haskins said. “YOUR input is not necessary.” “But—“ “Ethan. Just be quiet,” Haskins told him. He sighed. “Where were we?” Ethan thought that he actually COULD offer some input here. He could tell Haskins that, being made to hold one’s bladder was incredibly uncomfortable. And that being ignored and denied when requesting to empty it caused feelings of frustration and shame. And then he could explain how public humiliation could have life-long impacts on how a person interacted with others. He could do all of that and use HIMSELF as a prime example, ‘See, if you put in a policy that could lead to students wetting themselves, that will destroy their self-esteem and confidence for years. So, when someone really needs to go, you should let them! So, please let me go now!’ But, he stayed quiet. Haskins wasn’t going to let him talk, and even IF Ethan managed to get his whole question out, even IF Haskins was forced to reply, Ethan knew what the answer would be. Haskins would tell him that he COULDN’T use the restroom, and that he needed to hold it. So, Ethan would just keep trying to do that. He’d spilled a LOT into his clothes already, and he tried to fool himself into thinking that was a good thing. Most of it was still just on his boxers and hadn’t seeped out over the crotch of his pants yet. His boxers would dry off eventually and, in the meantime, Ethan had gotten SOME of the pee out of his bladder. That meant it should be easier to hold what was left! Except, it didn’t feel easier. His muscles were exhausted and worn to bits. Every new drip burned as it came out. He was just so tired of fighting against the deluge, all of his clenching and contorting didn’t seem to be doing ANYTHING anymore! Dazed, he could no longer hear the conversation taking place all around him. When Mr. Thompson came back, Ethan had to fight not to shoot him a jealous glare. He squeezed and clutched and wriggled and bobbed, but the pain just wasn’t getting any better! Finally… Finally… Haskins announced that it was half past noon, which meant it was time for lunch. “Everyone, be back here by one.” It had been sixteen and a half hours since Ethan had last voided his bladder. God… Had he EVER held it THIS long before? No wonder it hurt so badly. But, it was over now. He had a half hour break now. A half hour that he could spend standing in front of a urinal, pants open, piss gushing freely. He was so full that he thought maybe he actually WOULD be going for thirty minutes straight. He just… Had to stand up, had to get up and find a toilet. Fuck, if he wasn’t absolutely certain that it would get him fired, he’d just let it all flow into the plant on the other side of the library. He braced himself again, battening down his sphincters as he prepared to stand. He shut his eyes tight, clutching his cock for dear life. He wasn’t going to let go of himself. He didn’t care if everyone saw where his hands were. If he let go, if he removed the one dam separating his piss from the outside world, he would be drenched within a second. Finally, he decided to just do it as fast as possible. He shot to his feet, pangs of need twisted and curled inside of him and the entire world seemed to turn on its side. Ethan actually worried for a second that he’d fallen over, his vision was so distorted and blurred. He WAS upright, though. Step one of his quest for relief was complete. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes against the dizziness. Now, he had to walk. He managed one tiny, little step. He’d barely moved his foot, just shuffled it along, but that was still enough to shake the walls of his bladder. He felt like he was being ripped open. ‘Come on, Ethan,’ he thought. ‘You can do this. You’re so close. One step at a time… L—Left foot, right foot… Left foot… Right foot… Oh my God, it hurts…’ “Ethan.” Haskins’s voice. Ethan opened his eyes again. Everyone, save for himself and Hendrik, had managed to vacate the room in the time it had taken Ethan to walk about six agonizing steps. “Y—Yes, sir?” He gritted out. He sounded like he was trying to speak while being strangled half to death. “We need to talk about all those interruptions,” Haskins said. “Everyone here was trying to have a serious discussion, and you kept trying to cut in. What was that about?” ‘You want me to spell it out for you?!’ Ethan thought, furious. ‘You know damn well what’s going on!’ He shook and trembled. “I wasn’t trying to interrupt ex—exactly, I just—“ “Don’t try to walk away when I’m talking to you.” Ethan hadn’t even noticed that he was still walking. His body was running on auto-pilot now, every part of it focused on one singular goal. His progress halted, he was left standing beside Haskins, hopping from foot to foot with his hands pinned between his shuddering thighs. “I— I’m very s—sorry if I distracted an—anybody,” he said. “I w—was just trying to—“ “Stand up straight when you’re being addressed,” Haskins said. No. Fucking. Way. Impossible. He’d piss everywhere. “Th—That’s the thing!” Ethan exclaimed. “I can’t stand up straight! I have to—“ “Ethan,” Haskins said in a warning tone. Ethan TRIED. He managed to raise himself out of his hunched position, but the way his skin stretched over his bladder was ABYSMAL. He didn’t dare lift his shirt to check, but he knew he must have been horridly swollen, his bladder physically COULDN’T fit in his body for much longer. He was exploding, completely exploding. He only maintained his posture for a second before he was doubling back over again. “What is the MATTER with—“ “I have to go to the restroom!” Ethan cried. “Ohhh… I need to now!” He knew he sounded pathetic. He knew he sounded unprofessional. He knew Haskins was going to respect him even LESS after this. And he didn’t care! None of that mattered anymore! Only pissing mattered! “Please, please! Please, let me go! Please!” He was babbling, barely aware of what he was saying anymore, barely aware of if Haskins had responded. “Please! I can’t— Please!” “ETHAN,” Haskins snapped, voice raised louder than it had been all day. Startled, Ethan’s bladder spilled once more, finally enough that a dark spot formed over his crotch and began to trickle down one of his pant-legs. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “How old ARE you?” Haskins asked. “You are an adult— With a JOB. You know what adults with JOBS do when they need to use the toilet? They say ‘Hang on everyone, I need a bathroom break’, and they just GO. I know you saw one of your coworkers do EXACTLY that earlier, but no. You decided, instead, to do whatever you call THIS.” Ethan was suddenly VERY glad that his bladder was too full for him to budge his hands out from between his legs. He was suddenly VERY glad that he was too desperate to draw his knees away from each other. He didn’t even want to know what he’d do to Haskins if only he was able to move all of his body parts around freely. He had never, EVER felt the things he was feeling now before. It wasn’t like Ethan couldn’t GET angry— Just last night, he’d gotten EXTREMELY frustrated with his printer for refusing to print a black-and-white document because it was out of magenta. He’d grumbled curse words at it and slapped it a few times. He’d GOTTEN mad. But, this? THIS was a level beyond ‘mad’, this was a fury that caused a real, burning pain to bubble up in his chest, and he had NEVER felt that way before in his life. If he hadn’t been basically immobilized by a roaring need to piss, he thought that fury may lead him somewhere terrible. As it was, all he could do was grit out between angry, gnashing teeth; “I tried. For hours. To tell you that I had to go.” Haskins shrugged. “I never heard anything like that. The whole time, you were just sitting there, only trying to interrupt when we were in the middle of things that don’t concern you.” “I even raised my hand, like a school boy.” “Didn’t see that.” “You asked me why my hand was up.” “I don’t remember doing that,” Haskins said. “Are you sure?” ‘You know, it’s kind of stupid to try to gaslight someone with a psych degree…’ Ethan thought, folding over even further on himself. He couldn’t even tell if he was leaking anymore. He wasn’t sure if the wetness he felt in his clutched palms was NEW urine, OLD urine, or just sweat. Probably a combination of all three. ‘I can see exactly what you are doing.’ “Look, Ethan. All of this today has been deeply unprofessional. The rudeness with the interruptions, not excusing yourself to the restroom, this whole… Dance you’re doing now. If it wasn’t for the regulation that I HAVE to keep you here, I’d be sending you out the door right now. Do you have ANYTHING to say for yourself?” “I’m sorry,” Ethan recited, the words he THOUGHT would get him to a bathroom the fastest. Continuing to argue would just keep him here longer, and Haskins wasn’t going to budge, he was going to continue living in his alternate reality where Ethan was an incompetent idiot who’d held his piss for no reason and totally HADN’T been begging for a break all fucking morning. Ethan didn’t care if Haskins fired him. In fact, if he did, maybe he’d go get a lawyer. Ms. Wilson had been a witness to everything, and he had a feeling that she’d back him up, she and Ethan would tell everyone that Haskins had fired a guy for needing to go to the bathroom, and Ethan would probably own the entire school afterwards. “Don’t let it happen again,” Haskins said. “And be BACK here at one. Don’t make me wait.” Ethan nodded, resuming his panicked, shuffling walk out of the library. It seemed that his rage against Haskins was giving him a nice shot of adrenaline, which was making him SOMEWHAT more capable of reaching the restroom. He hobbled into the hallway, and the instant he spotted the sign for a men’s room, his bladder seemed to think ‘Okay, good enough’, because piss immediately began to pulse into his boxers. Horrified that he was losing it when he was so close to relief, Ethan broke into a sprint that made his sides scream in pain. He shoved open the door to the restroom, yanking his zipper down already. As the door swung closed behind him, he took his damp member into his trembling hands. A long gush of pee erupted from its tip, splattering the blue tiled floor. 
For a terrible second, he was unable to actually LOCATE the urinals. He’d never used this restroom before, always going to the one closest to his own office. The layout here was different, and Ethan was so far gone that it took him a moment to see where everything actually was, a choppy stream still occasionally ejecting onto the ground. He finally DID spot the row of urinals and, the next thing he knew, he was in front of one. His piss kept spurting out in half-second long bursts, his body struggling to catch up with his surroundings, struggling to register that YES, he was FINALLY at a toilet and it was okay to go! And then, he was letting out an absolute waterfall of a stream, blasting out of him with the force of at least ten fire-hoses. His knees wobbled and bowed inwards, and he had to use one hand to prop himself up against the wall. His spray was so intense that it seemed to echo. For the first several seconds, his bladder still throbbed as if it were fighting to hold back, even though he was already peeing harder than he ever had before. But then, something inside of him seemed to shatter and unwind at lightning speed, and he suddenly felt better than he’d thought humanly possible. He didn’t feel relieved, he felt something that went far, FAR beyond that. He… Honestly, he felt like he was having an orgasm. The longest, most intense orgasm anyone had ever had. The moan that fell from his lips was identical the one he’d let out the previous night, when he’d allowed his hands to rove all over himself. “Ohhhhhhhhh….” That sound echoed too, and he was glad he was alone in the room. How… How could it feel THIS good…? He’d been pissing for at least half a minute now, and his stream showed no signs of nearing its end. He didn’t WANT it to end, he wanted to feel this way forever. He wanted every second to be filled with this mind-numbing, euphoric pleasure. His chest was heaving with heavy sighs, his skin tingling all over, hairs standing on end, and he just could not stop peeing. He passed the one minute mark, the furious rush continuing to melt his brain with ecstasy. A minute and a half, and his limbs felt like they were made of gelatin. Two minutes, and at last his release started to slow down, dwindling to a trickle and slowly coming to a stop after a few more seconds. “Ohhh… Oh my Goddd…” Ethan breathed out, trembling where he stood. He was scared to move, afraid that MORE was still backed up inside his bladder. He looked down and saw a few stray drops were still plinking from the tip of his… His… Why in God’s name— Ethan was hard. Like, rock-solid. And he had no fucking idea why. He hadn’t been thinking about anything sexual, the last two and a half minutes he basically hadn’t been thinking of ANYTHING aside from ‘Ahhhhhh…. Yessss… It feels soooo gooood to peeeeee…’ But, now he was stiff, and had a real urge to start stroking himself for some reason. He supposed that, given how raw and sensitive his desperation had made him, and the fact that a lot of the pleasurable feelings associated with finally urinating HAD taken place in his cock, he’d just had some sort of… involuntary physiological response to all the rapidly changing stimuli. Yes. That was all. He hadn’t actually just gotten turned on by taking a badly needed pee. It had just made him feel a little too good for a second. Nothing more than that. He didn’t dare leave the restroom this way, though. And he was not going to… ‘tend’ to his problem HERE, no way in Hell. Instead, he locked himself into a stall and sat there, waiting for the issue to go away on its own. It took a LOT longer than he’d expected for his member to go soft again, but once it had, he left the stall. Now that he was no longer erect, he inspected his pants a little more. There was a tell-tale dark patch over his crotch, running down along the seam of his pant-leg. It was clear that he’d had a bit of an accident, and he dabbed at the damp spots with paper towels until they were at least a little less obvious. Then, feeling twenty pounds lighter, he headed back towards the library. Haskins pretty much ignored Ethan the rest of the day, not even looking at him. Ethan figured the man must have thought he’d tortured him enough for one day and was going to leave him alone now. The next day, Ethan’s middle felt so sore that he was forced to bring a heating pad and a bottle of pain killers with him to school. If any of the students asked him about it, he said that he’d just worn something out the previous day. He was amazed that it wasn’t hurting him to urinate, he’d been scared that the incident would have given him an infection. The awful restroom pass policy did end up going into affect, and Ethan was the one left to pick up the pieces after one unfortunate boy had an accident when he ran out of passes. The student was really shaken up, humiliated, and no longer wanted to attend class with everyone that had seen him lose control. “I’m t—too old to… Pee myself…” he said. “Ev—Everyone’s gonna make fun of me.” Ethan talked to him a lot about self-confidence, about pretending like HE wasn’t ashamed of the accident until others stopped trying to MAKE him feel that way. Since the cause of this problem was the bad school policy, Ethan WISHED he could do something about that, but his hands were tied. He admitted to the boy that he hated the policy, though, and it seemed to make him feel better to know that an adult was on his side. “But… You know, accidents do happen,” Ethan said. “Sometimes. Even when you’re older.” “They shouldn’t.” “Things don’t always work out the way we want,” Ethan told him. “You did everything you could to make it to the toilet in time. You tried to go during your passing period when the line was too long, you kept asking permission to leave the room without a pass… Those were things outside your control.” What he really WANTED to do was tell the kid that he should just get up and LEAVE the classroom when he was having a real emergency. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to encourage the kids to break the rules, even the ones he thought were idiotic. “Y—You know something? I’m an adult, and last month, I sort of had an accident, too.” “Seriously?” “Yep. Like you, I wasn’t allowed to leave a room and I just really needed to go. Bodies have limits. It’s embarrassing, but it happens sometimes. I’m sure the people who are REALLY your friends won’t make fun of you— That’s one way you can look at this, you’re going to see who your TRUE friends are.” He always tried to find a bright spot in all of the students’ situations, but he couldn’t lie to them, either. He knew this boy was going to be teased now, kids being what they were. This was still going to give him an opportunity to see who he could really count on, and that was something some people didn’t learn until they were much older. “I— I hope my friends are all nice about it,” the boy said. “I hope so too,” Ethan said. “If anyone gives you too much trouble, come back to see me. I don’t tolerate bullying.” “O—Okay,” the boy said. The next time Ethan saw him, he was doing better. He told Ethan that his best friends had both told him that it was okay, and hadn’t teased him over wetting his pants. Ethan was happy for him, and praised him for finding such good friends. *** “Wow, you told that kid that you peed your pants some just so he’d feel better?” James asked. “That’s so nice!” “Yeah,” Ethan said. “He was really hung up on being ‘too old’ to have an accident, and that was the only thing I could think of to tell him.” James cuddled him closer. “Eheh, and I guess NOW you know why your thing got hard, right?” “Yeah,” Ethan blushed. “I get it now.” James smiled. “Sorry that your boss was such a jerk. I like to make you get all cute and squirmy, but I wouldn’t make you keep waiting if it was making you cry!” “Yeah, he was a real piece of work,” Ethan said. “I’m glad he’s not in charge of that school anymore…” He wriggled against James, whose arms were pinning him place. “Oh, am I squeezing too hard?” “K—Kind of… Uh, telling that story made me seriously have to go,” Ethan admitted. “Could you let me up?”
  12. River was so god damned mad at himself, and he swore that the fury scorching his veins was making the gallon of piss trapped inside his tank come to a simmer. If he wet his pants— which seemed quite likely now— he wouldn’t be surprised if steam billowed out all around him. He was angry at the door near his feet, he was angry at the stupid, old, worn-out, dry springs that refused to budge. He was angry that there wasn’t any oil up here that could fix the springs. He was angry at his bladder for being so fucking tiny. He was angry at himself for coming up into the cabin’s attic in the first place, but especially for doing it without using the restroom first. He was angry that, after he’d gotten up here, he’d decided to shut the door behind him. He was just so fucking angry! River had been trying to do something nice for Hugo! Hugo had gone out to deliver some stuff, and there was furniture in the work-room that still hadn’t been painted. River had intended to surprise him by painting it all FOR him while he was gone— River had intended to show Hugo he was still… Still WORTH something even if everything scared him now! So, he’d gone up to the attic to get the paints— Something that he, Hugo and Duncan had ALL done lots of times before, but THIS time the door wouldn’t come back open, and now he was trapped with a VERY full bladder. He couldn’t even yell for help because Hugo still wasn’t back home, and Duncan… Duncan was stuck up here WITH him. This was both a blessing and a curse. River knew he’d probably be freaking the Hell out if he was TRAPPED somewhere by himself, so he was glad to have somebody beside him. But, Duncan was ALSO the reason that River hadn’t yet made THOROUGH use of one of the empty paint containers piled in the corner yet. Because, Duncan ALSO had to go extremely badly, and for some reason he was really, REALLY against relieving himself up here. Unwilling to subject Duncan to the sight and sound of him gushing out his torrent, River resolved to hold it in as well. His bladder did not approve of his decision in the slightest, and made its own thoughts known very clearly with a never-ending series of sharp, pounding throbs that by now had left River kneeling down on the floor, rocking hard against his foot. If it wasn’t for what happened last night, River may have had fewer qualms about draining himself into the container while Duncan continued waiting. He may have been better able to write it off as simply ‘Well, that’s Duncan’s own decision, isn’t it?’ But, the events of last night HAD transpired, River HAD accidentally forced Duncan to endure the sight of him flooding the toilet as his own bladder screamed. River HAD accidentally made Duncan release his waters into the bathtub which— For whatever reason— had made him very uncomfortable and ashamed. If River peed, he would upset Duncan one way or another. Either Duncan would have to fight not to let the sound of River’s relief squeeze his bladder too severely, or he’d have to give in and use a container himself. Both would be unpleasant for him, so River would wait. Holy shit was it hard to wait, though… Duncan had not told River to hold it out of solidarity with him. In fact, he’d told River the exact opposite a few times now. “YOU can still go, if you have to,” he kept saying. “I’m just not comfortable doing it up here, but I don’t mind if YOU do.” Still, River had insisted that he wouldn’t make Duncan watch and listen to that. “You’re having a rough enough time already, I don’t want to make it worse.” Duncan couldn’t honestly argue with that, either. He WAS having a really rough time. Like River, he hadn’t peed before coming up here— Thinking it would have been a two minute trip at the most— But, unlike River, he’d also drank three bottles of water today and had ALREADY been feeling the after-affects of those as he’d climbed the ladder to the attic. Even if his bladder was larger than River’s was, he had a feeling it was just as full. In the half hour since they’d discovered they were stuck, Duncan had alternated between pacing around in circles and bending double at the waist as he hopped up and down. With as much jiggling and moving as he and River were doing, they probably wouldn’t NEED to yell for help when they heard Hugo get home, he’d be able to hear them squirming just fine. Duncan’s need was so acute that he felt it blazing all the way up to the tip of his cock. That feeling resulted in drip after drip of hot piss seeping into his boxers. As soon as one had dribbled out, another would bead up to take its place. It was like he was having the world’s slowest accident. He kept squeezing his dick, mashing the flat of his palm hard against his opening, but pee still kept breaking free. The thing was, he actually WANTED to use a container. The thought of unzipping and letting it out somewhere— ANYWHERE— was enough to make Duncan’s eyes burn with tears of longing. But, every time he nearly made himself say “I can’t take it anymore, let’s just go!” Something would pull him back. As he’d experienced during both of his and River’s recent outings, Duncan’s throat constricted, his jaw went tight, and his body just refused to let him speak. He knew it wasn’t fear this time, because River was one of the few things in his world that DIDN’T scare him now. Instead, Duncan’s reluctance to talk came from shame; One of the most pure, most visceral senses of shame he’d ever felt. River, meanwhile, was trying to distract himself from the pounding pressure overwhelming his senses. With nothing up here apart from empty or full containers of paint, and Duncan clearly not in the mood to talk, River had some trouble doing that. He replayed scenes from his favorite mangas in his imagination, but this only lasted so long. Eventually, he was making a mental list of all the times he’d seen a manga character pee, or mention needing to pee, or just go into a bathroom for any reason. When he started to recall one he’d read with a very detailed illustration of the main character emptying his bladder, River gave up and tried to think of something else— Something that he couldn’t even KIND OF relate to urination. River had trouble letting his mind wander just in general, though. The longer he was alone with his thoughts, the more likely he’d start replaying memories of events whose only redeeming factor was that they were over. He’d remember the Organization, or he’d remember being homeless, or his parents, and then he’d be left feeling sad, scared and… Also this weird pressure inside his chest and stomach, like he was being crushed by an anvil, and couldn’t tell if he was about to suffocate or throw up. Of course, his mind DID eventually turn to these sorts of memories, because it ALWAYS did eventually. And, given his present circumstances, it was only inevitable that he’d start remembering things about peeing. Pleading for his Mom to stop the car somewhere because his bladder couldn’t last another second, the humiliation when she told him no, when she ordered him to hold it, when she said that begging made him seem like a toddler. Struggling not to pee in his seat at school because he was taking a test and wasn’t allowed to leave the room until he was done. Desperately searching for somewhere private and safe to empty out in the middle of the night when he was homeless. Then, he remembered the time with Organization. During one of his days there, he had been sent into a room that contained nothing but a single table. The table had been empty, apart from the revolver resting in its center. His task was simple, he needed to put the gun to his head and pull the trigger, then he was to point it at the ceiling and pull it again. Half of the chambers contained bullets, and the other half was empty. It was a sick, single-player round of Russian Roulette, he had a fifty-fifty chance of ending his own life. Over the course of a very tense few minutes, River had fired several bullets into the ceiling and none into himself. He’d gotten lucky. But, the final time he needed to rest the barrel of the revolver against his temple, just as his finger started to squeeze down, something else squeezed as well. He suddenly needed to piss worse than he’d ever needed it before in his life. He only had a fraction of a second to acknowledge that before his floodgates slammed wide open and a torrent of liquid gushed out into his pants. 

He pulled the trigger. The chamber had been empty. He shot the final bullet into the ceiling and stood there in a terrified daze, his pee still hissing out of him and spreading out into a huge puddle around his feet. Now, recalling this, River shook, and the hands wrapped around his dick squeezed down harder. “Mmmmfff….” “Y—You okay?” Duncan asked, voice trembling as much as his tense thighs were. “Just… I started thinking about when I peed my pants… there…” “Th—That was okay,” Duncan said. “Most people would have wet themselves if that had happened to them… If— If it’s making you think about bad stuff, you should probably just go now.” “N—No,” River said. “That would be unfair, and I’m sure Hugo will be home soon to help us out.” He curled up on himself more, now in a tight, little ball. Both his hands and one of his feet were pressing firmly into his groin, his breath was choppy and shuddering. “You don’t have to do thi—“ “I’m fine,” River said. “I— I’ve been m—more desperate before…” Duncan watched River twitch and squirm on the floor. He was beginning to feel really awful. This was happening because HE wouldn’t urinate into an empty container, because HE was unable to banish away his shame and do it. If he just said “Okay, I’ll go too,” and then did it, River wouldn’t be in so much pain. He wanted to help River, he wanted to get over his embarrassment and make River feel better. Beyond that, Duncan also wanted to pee. Really, really badly. He tried to say “Actually, I think I’ll be okay peeing here after all!” But, then he felt a shooting stab of need tear down his length, which was punctuated by a burst of liquid squirting into his boxers, and suddenly the hands clutching his dick started to move against it instead, and— Ah— Fuck— He wasn’t even alone here! He told his hands to go still, to stop caressing. Yes, getting hard would make this easier to hold in, but River was HERE, so he couldn’t— Ultimately, what finally came out of Duncan’s mouth was “Y—You know something that helps me?” Fucking Hell, what was he doing!? The only reason he wasn’t flooding a container right now was because he felt too ashamed to do it, telling River about THIS ‘habit’ was probably even worse! “H—Huh?” River asked, blearily looking up at him. Sweat was rolling down his face in sheets, blurring his vision. He couldn’t move either of his hands to wipe his eyes, though. Well, now Duncan was stuck. “Uh… If I… If I touch myself…” he said. “If I… kinda jerk off, when I need to pee, then I can hold it longer, since— I— You know— If I’m hard, I can’t pee.” River reddened. “Er… You… Asking me permission…?” He guessed. “Go ahead, I guess… If that’s what works for you.” Duncan hadn’t been asking River for permission. Really, he wasn’t sure WHAT he’d been asking, but if River didn’t mind, then he was going to do it. He allowed his hands to resume their work, gently roaming over his crotch. He stuck one inside his pants to stroke himself properly. The instant he made contact, the instant his dick started to twitch and come alive, Duncan finally started to think about something OTHER than peeing. This was… Sort of… REALLY hot… Playing with himself with River right there, able to watch him do it. Knowing River’s eyes were on him as he fondled his cock made Duncan’s erection grow to full-mast in record time. He started to mewl and whimper needfully, unzipping his now way too tight pants to better pleasure himself. “Ooof…. Mmmm…” All too quickly, Duncan felt the tingling pressure of a rapidly approaching orgasm and needed to force himself to slow it back down. If he came, he’d piss himself, he knew that for a fact. River was watching him, and the sight of it was making HIM think about peeing a little less, too. Duncan’s eyes were drawn closed, his body sweaty as his hands pumped away. Those little huffing moans were making River’s body all flushed and heated. He suddenly had a weird feeling, one that he absolutely didn’t recognize. He didn’t think he’d ever encountered it before, and he really, really wanted to… to… do… something. He just wasn’t sure what. He just knew he wanted to do it REAL bad, and he wanted to do it RIGHT now. And he didn’t think that thing was ‘go pee’, either. But, that was why Duncan was doing that to himself, right? Just to help keep his pee in? Not to make River feel… This? “D—Does that really help you hold it?” “Yeah…” Duncan breathed. “Just gotta be careful not to cum, which isn’t easy…” River wouldn’t know. He’d never cum before in his life. He had no idea what it was like, if there was any warning beforehand, if there was a way to stop it from happening. He honestly just didn’t think he COULD have an orgasm. When he’d had his phalloplasty, all the doctors had said he’d ‘maintain his ability to climax’ afterwards, but seeing as he’d never seemed to HAVE that ability to start with, he hadn’t thought much about it “You should try it,” Duncan said suddenly. That would be the only thing that would make this hotter for him, if River started jacking off right here in front of him, bringing himself right to that edge the same way he was. “Once you’re hard, you probably won’t be able to pee, it will help.” River shook his head, blushing. If he fondled and stroked himself like Duncan was, he wouldn’t get an erection no matter how long he kept it up. There was more to it for him than just that. He COULD get hard, he could do it right here, and maybe it would even make his bladder easier to hold, but there was… Just, this whole different process to it for him, and he didn’t know if he wanted Duncan to see, he was scared it would freak him out, he was scared it would look too weird to him. Duncan tried not to look disappointed. If River wasn’t ready to do that in front of him, that was okay. He really would have enjoyed watching, though. “Ah, alright,” he said, continuing to stroke. He kept it up for a while longer, but then the unbearable need to pee came back in all its horrible glory, and his bladder started to hurt a little too much for his dick to stay hard. He went back to simply squeezing it, attempting to prevent his flood by just closing off its exit pathway. River noticed and was… Kind of sad that the show was apparently over. “Did it stop working?” “I— I need to go too badly now,” Duncan admitted. “Not easy for me to stay hard when something’s hurting.” “It’s hurting?” River asked, forcing himself to look up more to stare at Duncan’s face. His taut skin pulled harshly around his aching midsection, and he felt a leak of his urine seeping out of him. He was sure it wasn’t his first spill, just the first one he’d noticed. Duncan shifted his hips and wrapped his legs together, winding them in a firm knot. “Yeah…” River frowned. The throbs in his own bladder had been bordering on agonizing for quite some time now. But, he was used to being in pain. He didn’t want Duncan to suffer, though. “You really should go, then… Just— Just use a container. We can both go, it will be—“ “I… I just… I don’t like peeing in—“ “I know,” River said. “You always want an actual bathroom, or at least a bush, I guess… Y—You were okay using the bottle when you were staying in bed, though…” Duncan nodded. He HAD been perfectly okay with that. For some reason, the shame hadn’t even registered. Then again, all he’d been able to feel during those awful days was his fear. There was no room in him for abashment. When he’d flooded that bottle again and again, he hadn’t even ONCE remembered the— “Ah—“ Duncan doubled over, mashing his hands into his groin even harder, but failing to impede the hissing gush from snaking down his inner thigh. “I— I shouldn’t pee in— I need to— I have to wait until—“ “I—It’s okay!” River admonished him. “You were telling ME all this time to just go. You know that I’ll pee with you up here, so you don’t need to feel all—“ “It’s not— It’s—“ Duncan stammered. “I just— What if Hugo—“ “Gets mad because you pissed in something he was going to throw out…?” River asked. “Nnnh,” Duncan whined, folding even further in half. “I just can’t, River! I need to keep it in— YOU can go, but I—“ “Are you… Shy?” River guessed. This didn’t make much sense, because Duncan had gone in front of him before. “We can go in separate corners, so I don’t see…” “That’s not it!” Duncan said. “I— I— You— I’ve told you about how I used to go to that s—super fancy boarding school, r—right?” “Yeah,” River said. He adjusted his hold on his crotch, now pinching his tip shut more aggressively than he’d been a moment ago. He hoped that once Duncan had said whatever he needed to say, he’d agree to pee in the container. He also hoped this story wasn’t too long, for the sake of his own ailing bladder. “Well… There was this one day where I… I don’t know, River, I needed to pee SO bad, I was starting to have an accident, and the line for the toilet was super, super long… And I just… I was wetting my pants, it was already coming out, I had to— I just needed somewhere. I tried to get to another bathroom, but the next one had an even bigger line, and I couldn’t make it to another, I— I had never needed to go that badly before, it was an emergency. I— I ran into a supply closet, because I thought there had to be something in there I could use. There was something, and the light was off so I couldn’t really tell what it was, I just knew I could… I knew I could go in it, so I did. But, before I was done, the door opened and one of my teachers was there, and now that there was light I realized I was… I was peeing in this really old, expensive vase that was, like, super important to the school’s history, or something. I—“ “The paint buckets aren’t important to anybody,” River said, bucking urgently into the pressure of his palms. “Hugo’s gonna throw ‘em out.” “I know but… Everyone at the school was so mad at me,” Duncan said. “I kept saying that I just wasn’t paying attention, I was having an accident and just went in the first place I thought I could. But, they thought I’d done it as a prank, and the headmaster yelled at me for over an hour, and made me call my parents so they could yell at me too, and I had to write this whole apology essay and read it to everyone in my class, and—“ “But, again,” River said. “The paint buckets aren’t important, and no one will care if you pee in one.” “It’s not—“ Duncan’s hands momentarily clutched his member a little tighter as he started to stomp his feet urgently. “Every time I go somewhere… That I shouldn’t… I just— I remember that, and I get all embarrassed.” “You don’t have to be embarrassed this time,” River said. “It’s just us. You have to pee. MY kidneys are floating. Let’s just go, alright? Both of us. It will be fine.” “O—Okay…” Duncan said. “You… You first? Is that alright?” 
“Duncan, I am basically exploding. Of course that’s alright,” River gave a tiny laugh, but immediately his eyes widened. The two could hear a small, high-pitched hiss and they both knew who it had come from. “I— Ah— I don’t think I can get up, so can you go grab a container for me? Like, really, REALLY fast?” Duncan did so, retrieving one from the corner and setting it in front of River. By the time he’d gotten back with it, River was already unzipped, his cock out, hand squeezing it closed. Nevertheless, a pale yellow drip was hanging off of it. As soon as the container was placed before him, River leaned forwards and let his dick dangle over it. Immediately, the rattle of liquid flooding against metal was heard, and River released a low, slow moan. “Ohhhhh… Yeahhhhh…” The gush of River’s faucet was too much for Duncan, and he began to hurriedly pull his dick out of his still unzipped pants. “Sc—Scooch over a little…” He grunted out, kneeling beside his boyfriend. River did, and then a second stream was crashing into the large bucket. Duncan hoped it would prove to be big enough to hold both of them. “Ahhhhh…” he sighed happily. He actually DIDN’T feel that same weight of painful embarrassment this time. All he felt was relief, all he felt was warmth. He thought it helped a lot that River was doing this too, it helped a lot that River had told him this was okay. They continued to pee, both of them panting and moaning, trying to regain their breath now that all of their energy didn’t have to go towards holding it in. As ever, River’s release was the first to end, and he leaned back to give Duncan more room as he finished up, which he did about half a minute later. Now that both of them had been wrung dry, the once empty paint-bucket was filled beyond its half-way point with at least a liter of urine. Duncan leaned back as well, another massive sigh falling from his lips as he fumbled himself back into his pants and zipped them up. The noise reminded River that his own zipper was still down and, blushing, he moved to correct that. “Feel better now?” River asked. “Yeah…” Duncan said. “Not too embarrassed about needing to do that?” “No,” Duncan assured. “I’m okay now, since you did it too. Thank you.” “Hey, you don’t need to thank me,” River said. “Trust me, it was my pleasure.” When Hugo got home and was able to help them back out of the attic, Duncan was worried again that he’d be in trouble for what he’d done to the container. But, just as River had promised, Hugo didn’t mind.
  13. Yeah, it might just be because of my own experiences with it, but whenever I see a guy who doesn't want to pee next to someone else, I always jump straight to assuming he's at least a little pee-shy. I also am just learning in this thread that women sometimes share stalls. (I assume it's not too common, though.) I have read that bladder-shyness affects men more than women, which I'd assumed was at least partially due to the expectation that men should be able to go more openly (In troughs, urinals or outdoors) leading to an anxiety cycle whenever a guy has trouble doing it. Anyway, as for the topic of the thread; Since I began to socially transition pretty young, there wasn't a ton of "culture shock" for me. Back when I could still use public restrooms easily, I and my peers were at an age where things like "Don't talk in the bathroom" wasn't really a thing anyone was super concerned with. (I only started getting bothered by it after my Paruresis developed and hearing voices even from outside the door made it impossible to go.)
  14. Relief. (She doesn't always stand. She sits if she's at school because she's worried about being made fun of.)
  15. This is a pretty dark one, you're going to see a flashback of River's Mom. So, warnings for transphobia, interphobia and medical abuse. *** River shoved the plate away from himself forcefully, the material squeaking against the wooden table. “Are you kidding me?” He snapped. He hadn’t meant to shout, but the sight of that crumbled up pill in his food had made him so furious. “You know,” his Mom said. “If you would take the hormones on your own, we wouldn’t need to do things like this. You’re the one deciding to make it difficult.” “I’m not taking them,” River said with a groan. “I’m not going to let you turn me into a girl.” “You are a girl,” Mom told him. “No one is turning you into anything— It’s what you are, you just need a little extra help to grow into yourself.” River scooted back his chair and started to stand. His Dad grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down. “Finish your dinner.” “No,” River said. “I’m not getting drugged.” “That’s right,” Dad agreed. “You’re NOT getting ‘drugged’, you’re being given medication that you NEED.” He sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’re behaving like a child. You’re sixteen years old, it’s time you matured.” River didn’t understand how this was a matter of maturity. He couldn’t understand his parents at all. A few months ago, he’d seen a kid at his school taking iron supplements for anemia, and he’d been surprised. Not because he’d found another person with his same condition, but because the pills THAT guy was taking looked absolutely NOTHING like the ‘anemia medication’ his parents gave HIM every day. So, when he got home, he looked up the letters that were etched into HIS pills, and made the discovery that they WEREN’T iron supplements at all— And that he probably DIDN’T have anemia. Instead, his pills were hormones; Estrogen, and another one that was supposed to ‘suppress testosterone production’. Why would he need THAT? When he read the effects, he got even more confused. The hormones were supposed to cause him to undergo female puberty. But, as much as River didn’t like it, he WAS already female, right? He had a vagina… It didn’t look very much like the ones in his health textbook, but that was probably only because everyone’s body was a little different. The websites said the pills caused ‘breast development’, except… Wasn’t that going to happen anyway? River had been repulsed ever since he first saw those things growing in, had pressed his hands against them as hard as he could, like he could force them back into his body and have his chest flat again. But, he’d known that they were coming, he’d known that they were inevitable, and would show up on their own. So then, why the pills? Come to think of it, River was sixteen years old and he hadn’t gotten his first period. Mom was always asking him if it had showed up yet, and River had been dreading that inevitability for years… Sixteen was really, REALLY late to still not have one, wasn’t it? Suddenly, River didn’t think he wanted to take his pills anymore. Just to see what would happen if they were gone. Something just didn’t feel right… Something HADN’T felt right for a long time, but now it felt even more wrong than ever. From that day on, whenever River’s parents handed him the hormone pills, he’d stick them into his mouth. But, instead of swallowing them, he’d spit them out into the toilet. It only took about a month for his parents to catch on; They spotted the results before River himself did. They noticed fuzz growing in on his chin, heard his voice cracking and changing. “You’ve stopped taking your pills,” his Mom had said. It wasn’t a question, she already knew. Briskly, she informed him that his medication was non-negotiable. She was going to monitor him from then on to make sure he actually swallowed them. An argument ensued, River told her again and again that he was not going to take ANY medication until he was told what it was for. “It’s for your anemia, you know that.” River shook his head. “Estrogen doesn’t treat anemia— I bet I don’t even HAVE that, do I?” “It’s not estrogen,” his Mom said. She laughed, as if River were being ridiculous. “It’s an iron supplement.” “The label on the pill says it’s something else.” They got louder, until River’s Dad came downstairs to see what was going on. His Mom told him that River was refusing his medication. River, again, demanded to know what he needed it for. After a lot more arguing, River’s Dad told him. And suddenly things started to make sense. He’d always felt so uncomfortable as a girl, had always had it in the back of his mind that someone had made a mistake when he was born, and now that had just been confirmed. The surgeons that had operated on him when he was a baby had just gotten it wrong, and River being raised as a female had all been a huge misunderstanding. All River had to do now was correct those surgeons’ errors and everything would be fixed. 

In those first few moments of knowing the truth, River hadn’t felt betrayed, he hadn’t felt despair, he’d only felt hope. He was even a little excited. He thought he may have been smiling a little. “Oh, okay,” he said. “That explains it… The doctors just messed up.” His parents didn’t react the way he’d been expecting them to; The way he NEEDED them to. “What did they mess up?” Mom asked. “They picked the wrong thing,” River said. “They made me into a girl, but that wasn’t right.” He laughed a little, a relieved breath exhaling through his nose. “All my life, I didn’t know why I felt like this, but I get it now. I was just always supposed to—“ “They didn’t make you into a girl,” Mom interrupted. “You just are one.” Upon hearing that, River’s elation started to drain away. He looked to his Dad, hoping that maybe he would understand a little better. Surely, at least one of his parents had to realize that it had been a bad idea to perform a surgery like that on someone who couldn’t even speak yet; They’d only had a 50/50 chance of guessing the right option, that meant there was a huge chance they’d get it wrong! “Dad…?” He said. “I really don’t think—“ “You’re sixteen,” Dad said. “You’re too young to make decisions like this. Take your pills.” His Dad’s words confused him. At sixteen, he was too young to say he didn’t want the pills anymore. But, as a baby, he’d been old enough to be operated on? Furious, he’d stormed up to his room, his thoughts swirling. He felt violated, all the way down to his bones. He’d never once felt like he truly belonged in his own body, but now that he knew about this, it felt less like it belonged to him than ever before. There followed a terrible period in his home, filled with constant feuds as River’s parents tried to force him to take the pills. One night, his Dad physically pinned him to the floor and stuffed them into his mouth. He laid there for a while, pretending to swallow them, then when his parents finally left him alone, he opened up the window and spat them into the bush. And that led to tonight, when Mom had decided to hide the medication in his food. River was not going to eat it. He would starve before he let even one more of those pills enter his body. HIS body. It belonged to HIM. What went into it, what was DONE to it… Those decisions weren’t his parents’ to make. The shouting and screaming that night was unreal. His Mom called him every awful name she could think of, yelled at him that everyone at school would laugh at the ‘girl growing a beard’. River didn’t reply, he didn’t tell her that everyone he went to school already made fun of him, and that he was beyond the point of caring about it. He’d allow himself to be mocked to Hell and back if only he could please, please have control over his own body. At some point, Dad got so angry at River’s continued refusals that he stormed out of the house. River heard the car pull out of the driveway and knew he wouldn’t be back for a while. Mom started to cry. Hot, angry tears that ran down her face in thick globs. “Look what you did!” She snarled. River didn’t reply. He didn’t think he’d done anything. And, even if he had, it in no way matched the scale of what his parents had allowed to be done to him. River hadn’t performed unneeded surgeries on them when they couldn’t say no. River hadn’t lied to them every day for sixteen years. River hadn’t forced them to take unnecessary medication that made them feel miserable. At worst, he’d hurled curse words at them, which hardly seemed comparable. His Mom stared at him. River didn’t see any affection in her eyes. He wondered when the last time he’d seen that even was… She gave him an ultimatum. He was not allowed to leave the table until he agreed that he’d resume taking his hormones. River shrugged, “You’ll have to let me go to school on Monday, you know?” “We’ll see. It’s up to you if you go to school on Monday or not.” River groaned. He could wait her out. She had to go to sleep eventually, after all. Of course, he knew that once this was over, she’d come up with ANOTHER way to try to force those pills into him, but he’d deal with that once the time came. He really did not understand. If he needed pills to make him into a girl, that meant ‘boy’ was the default for him, didn’t it? So, then why were his parents so shocked and appalled when he told them that was what he was? In the time since he’d learned the truth about the pills, he’d done research of his own. He’d learned about transgender people and supposed he was sort of like that since he’d been stuck in the wrong box? He related to all the stories trans men had shared about their childhoods, he’d felt the exact same things that they all did. But, at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he quite fit in with THEM either, because some things about him were so different! All the trans guys talked about taking testosterone to transition, which River didn’t think he’d have to do since his body seemed to be making a lot of that by itself. Most of the trans guys had had menstrual periods at some point in their lives, River never had and never would, so when he read stories talking about how THAT felt, he couldn’t relate as well. Some of them wanted surgery to get rid of their breasts, which River definitely wanted for himself, but it was STILL different, because if he hadn’t been tricked into taking the pills, he wouldn’t HAVE any breasts to start with. A lot of them also mentioned wanting surgery to change their genitals. River had already had one of those, and that was where all his problems had begun. It was possible another surgery could fix it, but when he read about phalloplasty, he got nervous that it wouldn’t work on someone like him. Maybe since he’d already had the one surgery, he couldn’t have another. Or maybe since his parts weren’t exactly like a ‘typical’ female’s, something would go wrong. Really, none of that mattered, though. His parents had made it very clear that he did not own his body, all decisions regarding it were to be left up to them. They knew best, even if their choices made him utterly miserable. All he could do was refuse the pills. That was the only teeny bit of control he could even hope to exert over his own life. His Mom kept staring at him, her hands folded over the table. She wore a look on her face that told River HE was the one being unreasonable. River settled in to wait. Once Mom got tired enough, this would end. He was sure of it. He’d forgotten some important things, though; He had a really small bladder, and it had been about four hours since he’d last relieved himself. The second he got himself comfortable in the chair, he noticed that he needed to go. He didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t going to poison himself just so he could take a leak. He’d hold it until his bladder broke itself into ten billion shards and ripped him open before he did that. Not that his middle wasn’t already aching. He wished he’d brought a manga to the table with him. That would have ticked his Mom off too, but at least then he’d have something to distract his mind away from his bladder. As it was, the only thing he could focus on was the ever-growing urge to relax his sphincters and let his urine flow. Abruptly, he pulled one of his feet up into the chair with him and rocked himself against it. This lessened the need somewhat, and he shut his eyes, trying to relax. He could hold it. He only had to wait until Mom exhausted herself too much, then he could rid himself of the pressure. When he opened his eyes again, Mom was looking at him more intently. “There will be no visits to the toilet,” Mom told him. “As I said, you are not leaving from this table until you do what I’ve asked.” River turned from her, a little too sharply as the motion sloshed all the pee filling up his bladder. “I wasn’t going to ask you for that,” he informed. He felt like adding ‘It’s your chair, if you want it pissed in, more power to you,’ but he didn’t want to admit to her that he DID have to go. “I don’t even need it.” His Mom just smiled at him. Well. More of a smirk. River, again, tried to understand. It was like she seemed to revel in his discomfort and misery. What kind of a mother did that? It was like she didn’t understand that he even HAD feelings. He didn’t know if she’d EVER considered that. As far as he understood it, from the second he was born she was making enormous choices for him without thinking about how he’d be affected by them. For a while, the anger he had towards that woman worked as a suitable distraction from the ever growing pain in his pelvic region. It didn’t last, though. Soon the sharp pangs in his bladder were even stronger than his rage, and he was forced to bend forwards and cross his legs, thighs squeezing together hard. Mom didn’t seem to be dozing off… Sweat beaded up on River’s brow as he crossed his legs around in the opposite direction. *** Duncan had made an awful mistake again. He’d really thought he’d learned his lesson the first time he’d done this, but once more, he’d gone to bed without a quick before-sleep pee, and his bladder was now on the verge of rupture. He still didn’t feel up to going down the hall by himself in the dark, so he just had to hope that he either managed to wait until morning, or River woke up to accompany him. Duncan had actually managed to doze off a few times, his dreams pelting him with images of huge waterfalls, massive sprinkler systems, trickling hoses, and toilets… So many toilets. The last time he’d woken up had been just after he’d sat down on one, seconds before he’d been about to unleash his pee. A part of him wished that he HADN’T woken up just in time to avoid wetting the sheets. At least, if he’d peed in his sleep, River would understand, and he wouldn’t need to hold it anymore. He’d tried to fall BACK asleep and continue that dream. He wanted to be on that imaginary toilet again more than he thought he’d ever wanted anything. But, by that point, his bladder was hurting him so badly that he COULDN’T rest anymore. As much as he hated urinating anywhere that wasn’t toilet, he was starting to think it would be a good idea to keep a bottle in the bedroom for nights like this. He just needed to make sure it was a big one. He felt like he was holding a gallon. He looked at River sleeping beside him. River’s brow was furrowed, his face pinched, and Duncan thought maybe he was having a bad dream and wouldn’t mind being shaken awake to take Duncan to the restroom. Except, sometimes when Duncan got woken up in the middle of a nightmare now, he got pretty freaked out for the first several seconds. River would probably be the same way. Duncan would do his very best to hold it. He cupped his hands against his crotch, squeezing tightly. He wanted to give his cock a few strokes, even though nothing about his current predicament was turning him on. He just needed to get hard enough that nothing could leak out of him. He still hadn’t asked River if jerking off in the bed while he was asleep was okay, though. If River DID wake up and found Duncan pleasuring himself, he might react badly. So, Duncan stuck to just clutching and squirming. He rolled back and forth across his half of the bed, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth gnashing with furious need. His hands strained between his sweaty thighs, his chest shakily rose and fell with shallow, shuddering breaths. *** It had been almost two hours now, and River was still at the table. He needed to pee so badly that he could taste it. His eyes were welling up with tears brought on by the extreme pressure. His legs were scissoring beneath the table. He nibbled on his lip. He could no longer pretend that he didn’t need the bathroom, but that was no reason to give in. Honestly, he’d prefer having an accident at the kitchen table to being force-fed pills. If he peed his pants, then he’d just pee his pants… He’d feel gross and grimy until he got changed, and it would be a little embarrassing, but at most it would just be a half hour of clean-up and then he could move on. The pills were different. The pills caused drastic changes that took surgical intervention to undo, the pills made him feel awful every second of every day. The pills made him feel humiliated every time he looked in a mirror. The pills couldn’t be cleaned up and forgotten about. Really, the only reason he didn’t just deliberately piss himself now and get it over with was because he knew it would give Mom another reason to be angry at him, another thing to punish him for. He still wanted to hope that his bladder would outlast her. But, since River’s desperation was now so painfully obvious, Mom seemed convinced that he’d break any minute now so he could have some relief. He wondered to himself if SHE would consider taking testosterone, growing a beard and getting a deep voice, in exchange for one, single piss. He doubted it. Maybe he should ask her that, though? Not the piss part, but the rest of it. ‘How would you feel if someone forced you to take testosterone?’ Maybe she’d understand then… He gave it a try. His Mom just looked at him, wrinkling up her brow, as if what he’d just said was the most nonsensical thing she’d ever heard. “Why would anyone force me to take testosterone? I’m a woman.” It was like talking to a brick wall that all the other brick walls made fun of for its lack of listening skills. River squirmed in his seat. Aches careened through his abdomen and he felt a drip escape him. And then another. He gave in and put his hands against himself, wriggling into the needed pressure of his palms. He wondered what it would be like if he’d been born a normal guy. Or, barring that, if he’d at least been born to normal parents. He had to believe normal parents would ask him “Well, what do YOU want to do? It’s YOUR body.” He had to believe normal parents wouldn’t imprison him at a table and make him hold his bladder in an effort to torture him into obedience. His need was becoming kind of torturous though. One of the worst things about having a small bladder was having to feel it STRETCH out way earlier than anyone else would. He felt like it was shoving aside all of his other organs, felt like it was being pinched by his narrow hip-bones. He felt so bloated and full that he could barely stop himself from launching to his feet and running to the toilet on pure instinct. But, that thought gave him pause. Why DIDN’T he just leave? Was Mom going to pin him down physically? River thought he could take her in a fight, it was just his Dad that he couldn’t win against, and HE wasn’t there right now. Really, the only tool Mom had on him right now were her words and, seeing as how she didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything HE had to say, why should he give her that same courtesy? He started to stand, very gingerly, so as to not rock his bladder out of its precarious position. Mom stood up too, then leaned over the table, and smacked River hard across the face. “Sit. Down,” she growled. River was so stunned for a second that he didn’t feel the pee leaking into his pants until it began to roll down his legs. His Mom had never struck him in the face before… Tightening down his pelvic muscles, he took his seat once more. *** Duncan was laying on his front, his face in his pillow as he gnashed his teeth against it to keep from voicing aloud his suffering. His hands were pushed so tightly into his groin, nails digging into the sensitive area, that tears were springing to his eyes. He’d leaked. A lot. His pajama pants were cold and sticking to this thighs. He was trying once more to just go to sleep, he knew he’d piss the sheets if he did, but that was preferable to doing it while awake. Peeing the bed while unconscious was understandable, doing it while his eyes were blown wide open with panic wasn’t acceptable at all. To make matters worse, River was starting to move around a lot in his sleep, and that was causing the bed to shake, and THAT was causing Duncan’s bladder to get jostled around, and THAT was causing him to spring more and more leaks. As soon as he plugged one shut, another quickly began to trickle out and take its place. His teeth ground hard against the material of his pillowcase, sweat rolling off of him in sheets. He knew River was having a bad dream, he knew that was why he was moving around so much! He wanted to wake him up, to free River from his terror and HIMSELF from his absolutely horrific desperation. He knew better, he knew he couldn’t, he knew River would panic… ‘Ahhhh, I have to goooo!’ Duncan thought, stricken by the sheer force of his agonizing need. No matter how many knots he tied himself up into, his pee just REFUSED to stay put. It kept seeping out, it kept dripping into his clutching hands, it kept re-heating all the cooling wet spots in his pants. He tried once more to talk himself into getting up and going to the toilet by himself. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he could walk there without leaving a lake on the floor somewhere, but that hardly seemed to matter since he just couldn’t find the courage to even try. *** Another hour had passed at the table. It was well after midnight now. Mom seemed to be getting drowsy, but River couldn’t pay close enough attention to tell. He was sitting on top of his hands now, almost humping himself against them as he bounced and bounced and bounced. His legs were coiled together, his feet going numb from having to spend so long without proper blood-flow. He gnashed his teeth together, he fought back tears of pain. He refused to give in. Pissing, as amazing as it would feel to do, was NOT worth capitulating to his Mother’s horrific control. “You know, you really are acting like a child,” Mom said. “Look at this, you’re doing a potty-dance because you won’t stop throwing your little tantrum. You think this sort of behavior shows me you’re mature enough to make big decisions for yourself? It doesn’t.” River said nothing. No amount of reason would get through to her. There were zero combinations of words that would convince his Mom that anything about this was sick. He was done trying to understand her. He was done trying to understand how someone could look at their own child going through so much pain, and think that the correct thing to do would be to cause even more of it. She may have been his mother through biological happenstance, but she wasn’t his parent. A parent wouldn’t do this. Again, he fantasized to himself what it would be like to have normal parents. If a normal parent was about to give him the pills, they’d say what they were for. And, when River told them “But, I don’t want that,” a normal parent would say “Oh, I didn’t realize. You don’t have to take them.” If a normal parent saw him upset, saw him squirming and writhing and oh-so-desperate for the toilet, they’d say “Oh, do you need help walking to the bathroom?” And then they’d just… Take him there. They’d take him there and allow him to pee. River’s Mom wasn’t a parent. He didn’t even know what she was. He knew what he was, though. He was a man, a man that had been subjected to severe medical malpractice his entire life as his parents smiled along and kept it a secret. He was a man who hated the woman he was expected to call “Mom”. He was a man that had to pee so badly he could no longer see straight, and was on the verge of soaking his pants right there in the kitchen. And, he was a man who didn’t give a single fuck if he did that or not. He did not consciously choose to begin urinating. Truthfully, he DID fight it up until the very last second. But, when he felt that surge— The most powerful surge of need he’d ever suffered in his life— and piss erupted right out of his opening, hissing out for several seconds, that momentarily loss of control, those few glorious seconds where his flood-gates had been open and his muscles had been relaxed… They had felt so amazing to him that he just… Gave in. He gave in, he let the rest all come pouring out, he let his pants grow heavy, warm and wet as his piss gushed all through the material. He even let himself moan, because it just felt, so, so, so fucking good to finally go… His eyes shut, and he panted with glorious relief. Then, he heard a chair scraping against the floor, some shuffling, and the next thing he knew, he’d been knocked out of the chair, onto the floor. His eyes opened, and he was still pissing thunderously, sprawled on the ground in his puddle, his head and side throbbing from when he’d landed. And then, Mom started to kick him. Again and again, screaming at him that she’d never been so disgusted in her life. *** Duncan was still squirming around in bed, now laying on his back and thrusting his hips up against his clenching hands as he tried to quell the dribbles that continued to bead through his tip, when he heard the hiss of urine flowing through fabric. He panicked for a second, thinking he’d finally exploded, but he was still only losing it drop by drop. Which meant… He turned frantically, seeing River’s crotch darkening as he peed. He was still thrashing in the throes of his nightmare and, without thinking, Duncan started shaking him. “River, River! Wake up, you’re peeing! And— And you’re having a bad dream! Get up!” River’s eyes flew open, and his pupils dilated with fear for a second before the action taking place down below struck him. He grabbed his dick and managed to cut off his release. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” he muttered, scissoring his legs. “I need a god damned—“ “I know, River!” Duncan said. “Me too! Hurry!” River launched himself out of bed and just started to run. The momentum was making him leak again, but he couldn’t slow down. He needed to be at the toilet NOW, taking any extra time getting there would leave him DRENCHED instead of just soggy. 

He heard Duncan whimpering and hobbling after him as he threw open the door to the bathroom. “Gotta piss, gotta piss, fuckfuckfuck…” River huffed. He tore down his pants and aimed blindly at the (thankfully already open) toilet, and immediately let go of a moan that barely managed to overpower the sound of his urine thunderously striking the water in the bowl. “Ohhhh…” Duncan finally caught up and, with some dismay, saw River had already claimed the toilet. He didn’t think he could ask River to clamp it off for a second while he sat down and parted his legs… He also didn’t think he could handle standing next to him, facing away from the door, in the middle of the night… Pee was oozing into his boxers at a rapid rate, seeing and hearing River pee was like having a cannonball launched into his bladder. River turned, saw Duncan, saw Duncan was desperate… Realized he hadn’t heard him clearly enough a minute ago. He’d heard him say “hurry”. He’d missed him saying “me too”. “I—I’m sorry, I’ll be fast, I—“ Tears welled up in Duncan’s eyes as more pee trickled from him. He was gonna have an accident, unless he… He shuddered. He hated using ANYTHING that wasn’t a toilet. He especially hated peeing in a spot where he was SUPPOSED to be getting clean. But, he needed somewhere to let it flow that wasn’t his pants… He tore down his bottoms and hobbled over to the tub, the second he was seated over its ledge, he was gushing out a ferocious stream. It rattled against the side of the tub, pouring into the basin and ripping a great groan of relief from Duncan’s lips. “Ahhhh…..” River had watched him the whole time (Inadvertently screwing up his aim and pissing on the rim of the bowl for a second since he’d looked away.) He hadn’t expected Duncan to do that, but was happy he’d found a solution. The two kept spraying and gasping with pleasure. River shuddered as his poor bladder deflated, and Duncan shut his eyes and tipped his head backwards to moan, pee erupting from his bladder like a pin-hole poked into a water-balloon. River finished first, and wiped off the splatter of urine from the bowl. He tucked his cock back away and stood with his hands on his knees, panting and out of breath. Duncan kept peeing for almost another whole minute before he was finally down to just a dribble, which took another several seconds to stop entirely. Blearily, he blinked his eyes back open, and remembered he’d been urinating into the tub this whole time. He shook again, but not from relief. How could he have done something so gross? He rose from the ledge and pulled his clammy pants back on, turned and looked at the puddle slowly heading down into the drain. It was enormous. No wonder Duncan had been in enough pain to start crying. “I’m sorry…” Duncan said. “For what?” River asked. “I’m the one that should have waited for you!” “I— I peed… In the…” “Yeah,” River said. “You pissed in the tub. Everybody pees in the shower… I mean, normally with the water ON, but—“ “I don’t!” Duncan said. “I— I’ve only done it once, and it was an accident because I couldn’t hold it anymore! I’m not supposed to pee in the tub, it’s dirty, and—“ “Well, this time was sort of an accident too, right?” River reasoned. “You couldn’t hold it anymore, could you?” Duncan shook his head. “It was coming out…” “See? I know you wouldn’t make a mess normally, this was just an emergency… Run the water for a bit, and it’ll all get washed right down the drain.” “O—Okay…” Duncan flicked the tub on. “You were having a bad dream before,” he said. “I was,” River agreed. “About The Organization?” “No, this one was about my Mom,” River said. “Oh… So, was it, like, a memory?” “Yeah. I guess since I had to piss like crazy, I was remembering a time where I wet my pants.” “Your Mom made you?” “Pretty much,” River said. He explained the dream to Duncan, how his Mom had kept him at the table until he agreed to continue taking Estrogen, how he’d held his bladder until it became too much, how his accident had prompted Mom to beat him. “That’s the part where you woke me up at, guess when I started pissing in the dream, I was pissing for real.” “Your Mom sounds awful…” Duncan said, unsure what else he could offer by way of comfort. He gave River a hug anyway, hoped that would help. “I mean, I already knew she was bad, since she put you… There. But, I never thought about what it would have been like to live with her for so long.” “In some ways, when she kicked me out, it was a relief,” River admitted. “It was really hard, but at least I didn’t have to see her anymore.” “I’m sorry all of that happened to you,” Duncan said. “You didn’t deserve it.” “You don’t have to be sorry,” River hugged him. “I’m happy now, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. You… It feels incredible to be loved by someone, Duncan. Thank you for letting me have that.” Duncan fought not to tear up. “Thank you, too,” he said. “I never thought… That someone could make me so happy.” He turned and switched off the tub, all the evidence of his little ‘indiscretion’ was gone now. “Um… Can I ask you something?” “What?” “Two times now, I’ve forgotten to go pee before bed and then been too scared to go by myself, so can you remind me every night from now on?” “I can try,” River promised. He opened the door. Hugo was standing there, looking one part groggy and two parts squirmy. He blinked his eyes a few times. “What were you two doing in here?” “W—We both had to go to the bathroom, and it’s scary to walk around alone at night,” Duncan said. “Why’d you have the tub running?” Hugo asked. “That… Wasn’t the most fun thing to listen to.” “Uhhh…” Duncan wriggled his feet nervously. “Duncan got to the toilet before me,” River cut in. “And, there wasn’t enough room for me to go too, and I couldn’t wait… I ended up using the shower. I’m sorry.” “I guess if you washed it out afterwards, then that’s fine,” Hugo said. “Everyone does it…”
  16. “I… Earlier…” River said, as he and Duncan lay in bed that night. “I… Did not mean to make you…” “It’s fine,” Duncan said. “I didn’t mean to GET… like that. But, I mean, your hand was RIGHT on me, I was already pretty sensitive, and you’re crazy hot, so it was sorta just bound to happen…” He trailed off, remembering now that River HADN’T gotten hard when Duncan had aimed for him… Why didn’t River’s body react to Duncan the same way Duncan’s reacted to him? Maybe the whole piss factor part of it had just been a big turn-off for River, though. Duncan didn’t think he had a pee kink either, but it would take a LOT more than that to prevent him from getting hard when a good-looking guy was touching his cock. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable with that, did I?” Duncan asked. River shook his head. “No, it’s not like you had control over it. I’m just glad you finished going first. It’s supposed to be tricky to piss if you’re hard, right?” Duncan nodded, wondering if River had somehow managed to never wake up with morning wood and a full bladder… Duncan wasn’t sure how long ago River had had his operation, maybe it just hadn’t happened yet? “Yeah, it isn’t easy. And if you DO manage to go that way, and you’re standing up, you’ll probably make a mess.” Now, Duncan felt a little like he was giving River a warning that he’d need to abide in the future at some point. Passing down some wisdom to him. “Oh,” River said. “I guess that makes sense…” He kissed Duncan on the cheek. “Goodnight,” he said. “Hope you sleep well.” 
Duncan kissed him back. “I love you, babe.” *** The next morning, River woke with a damp crotch. But, his bladder was so brutally, painfully full that he doubted HE was the one who’d had the accident. River only got up feeling this urgently desperate if he didn’t empty himself out even ONCE during the night. He uncurled himself from Duncan, seeing that his partner’s pants were just as soaked as his own were. River contemplated staying in bed until Duncan woke up, and insisting that HE’D been the one— the ONLY one— to wet the bed. Duncan had soaked him enough to make it pretty difficult to tell for sure. River’s bladder protested AGAINST that idea, however. Maybe if he relieved himself quickly enough, he could get BACK in bed before Duncan got up and still manage to pull off his plan, but he couldn’t simply LAY here and wait without risking a real accident. So, River got up, and realized he was now going to have to walk through the hall in pee-stained pants to get to the toilet. Maybe Hugo had already left for the day, though… And, if not, River could just hide the wet spot on his way to the restroom— His hands kept inching towards his crotch on their own anyways! He allowed them to make contact, allowed them to squeeze his opening closed. This was another thing that had begun to feel vastly different after his surgery. River found himself needing to cork his bladder up by-hand more often than he cared to admit, so he had plenty of opportunities to make some comparisons. Before, he usually pressed his hands one on top of the other, digging into the same spot. Now, what tended to work best was to put one hand against his tip where the urine came out, and wrap the other around his shaft for more support. It was sort of interesting to him how a little thing like that had changed. His hands digging into himself and inadvertently shielding his damp spot from view, River left the bedroom. He was surprised he hadn’t woken up to go sooner— He was surprised he hadn’t ALSO peed the bed like Duncan had! River needed a pee so bad that walking a few brief paces down the hall was sending shooting pangs through his body. If his legs didn’t stay close enough together, he felt scorching trembles threatening to burst him apart. He got to the door, exhaling with relief. It was nearly over now. “River…?” Hugo said, coming down the hall from his room. “Good morning, are you…” He paused, looking closer at River’s hands and pajama pants. “Oh no, did you have another bad dream?” River shrugged. He was fine with telling Duncan the mess was all his fault, but telling Hugo was more embarrassing. Hugo didn’t have nightmares like River did. Hugo never peed the bed at all. He shifted between his feet from more than just his urgency. “Y—Yeah…” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?” River shook his head. Not only did he NOT have time to talk right now, he also hadn’t actually HAD a bad dream last night, so there was nothing to discuss. “M—Maybe later,” he said, the hands around his dick pressing down further. Hugo watched. “Don’t be ashamed of this” he said. “Go change, I’ll get everything washed that needs to be.” “Er…” River trailed off. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say “In a minute, I need the toilet first.” It had suddenly become hard to say it for some reason. “I know, I know,” Hugo said. “It’s embarrassing, but it’s bad for your skin, and you’ll feel better once you’re changed out of that. Then we can pretend it never happened.” “Uh…” River still couldn’t do it! “And, don’t forget the sheets,” Hugo added. “I’ll clean that up too.” River sighed and ignored the confused thrashing in his bladder as he backed away from the restroom door. He cursed himself. Any other day, he wouldn’t have trouble just interrupting Hugo and shouting out “I get all that, but I gotta piss before I do ANYTHING else!” He just hadn’t been able to DO it now, not when Hugo was standing there, talking to him about getting cleaned up after an ‘accident’. It didn’t even matter that this accident hadn’t been HIS, the fact he’d let Hugo think it was was enough! So, he went back to his bedroom, carrying what felt like a rock-hard water balloon in his midsection. He just had to get changed, then he could go… He didn’t even need to worry about the sheets until Duncan was actually awake. Some of the pee had stained his top as well, so he was going to have to get completely changed. Pulling his shirt up over his head forced his abdominal muscles to stretch out a little bit, skin pulling tautly over the surging organ in his core, and once his shirt was off, his hands flew back between his legs. He rocked himself against his grip, his bare shoulders shuddering, spine knotting. River took a series of heavy breaths, reminding himself the toilet was RIGHT down the hall, and he’d be able to use it a lot FASTER if he finished changing. It struck him then how silly it was to change out of WET clothes that he was fighting so furiously not to get any more piss on, and put on DRY clothes that he might not be able to KEEP dry for long. Once he felt like he had wrenched back enough of his control, he gingerly released his dick from his hands. Now that nothing blocked his view, he found himself startled by the appearance of his lower abdomen. His bladder FELT like it was stuffed to the gills, hard as a rock, and trying to push its way out of his skin— But it also sort of LOOKED that way. His middle was bloated, jutting out very slightly between his hip-bones. His pajama pants were tighter around him than usual. The harsh, distended shape scared him a little. He’d only seen his body do that a FEW times in the past. When he was younger, his Mother had gotten angry with him for dressing up like a male character when his class played dress-up. So, she ordered him to his room. River had thought the punishment would only last five or ten minutes, since that was how it usually went, but she made him stay there for hours. It didn’t take long for River to need to go, and he shouted and begged to be allowed out for just a minute so he could use the bathroom. Mother told him no every time, told him she wasn’t ready to look at him yet, told him to just “hold it, like a big girl.” River did his best to listen, but he’d just had to go so much, it hurt really bad, and then his midsection was protruding and it freaked him out. A while later, following a lot more begging, he couldn’t wait a second longer. And then he was in trouble for THAT too. On his first day of middle school, River had gotten lost in the building, which was much larger than the elementary school. He didn’t know where any of his classes were, they were all spread out apart from another, and no one would talk to him and help him out. He kept arriving late and getting in trouble… And then he needed to pee. He didn’t know where any of the bathrooms were, either, and kept thinking it was MORE important to focus on finding his classrooms in time— He’d go pee at lunch when he had more time to look around. When lunchtime finally arrived, he was so desperate that he could barely stand up, and walking in a straight line was impossible. When the bell rang, he noticed that his belly looked bloated, and that freaked him out. The teacher whose class just ended noticed River’s desperation and asked him if he knew where the toilets were, to which River blurted out that he DIDN’T and that he was going to burst! The teacher brought him to a restroom and River ran in. But, once he was in a stall, he peed his pants trying to get them down. Once, during his first night on the streets, he’d been too scared to pull down his pants in an alleyway to relieve himself, and could find nowhere else to do it. None of the stores were still open. The nearest construction site was a long walk from where he was, and he had no idea if the portaloos set up there would be accessible after everyone had gone home. It was either piss in the alley or hold it until morning, and River was so frightened that he decided to hold it until morning. A couple hours later was when he noticed he was getting swollen. Fifteen minutes after that, he’d wet his pants. After discovering how much it was going to cost him to clean his clothes at a laundromat, River got over his fear of peeing outside so that he wouldn’t have to get them washed too often. River knew now that the swelling meant ‘Get to a toilet NOW or you’re going to have an accident!’ The swelling always came JUST before he peed his pants, it was a sign that he was nearing his limit— As if the angry, rippling surges criss-crossing through his lower abdomen hadn’t been enough to clue him in. ‘Fucking idiot…’ River thought as he struggled out of his pajama pants. ‘Why the Hell’d you have to get so shy about this anyway? Why didn’t you tell Hugo you had to—‘ When his pants fell around his ankles, he realized the wetness had made it to his boxers (But, he didn’t want to speculate if it was just from Duncan’s accident, or if HE’D sprung a leak himself). He was gonna have to change those, too. Yesterday, when he and Duncan had been getting dressed, River hadn’t removed his boxers at any point. He looked over his shoulder. Duncan still looked asleep… And why was he so worried anyway? Duncan had seen his dick before. Duncan LIKED his dick! River shouldn’t be nervous about taking it out now! And, this was a really bad time to be getting bashful, he couldn’t keep dawdling unless he wanted to make a big puddle on the floor. He tore the boxers down in one quick motion, momentarily stunned by the sudden loss of pressure in his bladder. He hadn’t realized they’d been squeezing it so hard! Speaking of squeezing, River accidentally let himself relax a little too much, and was startled by the sight of a pale yellow droplet seeping from his tip. It fell, landed on the sodden clothes at his feet, and he squeezed himself tightly to keep from letting loose another. He jumped in place, hitching his hips to and fro, aware of how utterly ridiculous he must have looked. Pee dancing was embarrassing as Hell, pee-dancing while naked was enough to make him want to go invisible. At least Duncan was asleep and couldn’t see this… River moved to the wardrobe, and had to fight hard to get even ONE of his hands to unwrap from his cock so that he could pull it open. As soon as he’d dislodged one of them, the other started pressing twice as hard. It was actually causing him some pain to be holding himself so tightly. He was reminded of how, right after his phalloplasty, he’d been scared that if he just moved wrong, he’d somehow break it. The doctors had all told him that wasn’t possible, that now that he’d had the operation, it was there for keeps. Even River had known his anxiety was illogical, but it was hard to help it when he’d spent so long thinking nothing could make his body into a thing he wanted to live in; Of course, he’d thought it too good to be true, and that something would happen to take it away. The abuse he was giving his dick now was proof that he hadn’t needed to worry. He was basically strangling the poor thing and it was fine. He grabbed some clothes, just sweatpants and a shirt. Those would be really easy to put on. He skipped getting new boxers just so that he could cut down on the number of steps separating him from relief. “Ffff… Gotta go…” He muttered. “I need a damn piss… Why couldn’t I just fucking say that?” Duncan’s eyes blinked open. He felt cold, clammy wetness between his thighs. Either one, or both of them had peed in bed last night… With fragments of his nightmare still clinging to his memory, Duncan was sure he’d been at least partially responsible. Still bleary with sleep, he turned and saw River wasn’t next to him… He could hear River’s voice though, gruff and frustrated, and he looked up to see River hurriedly trying to tug a pair of sweatpants up his legs, and not having much success because they kept crossing together, and his feet refused to stop dancing. He also kept needing to STOP dressing himself so that he could put his hands around his dick… His bare dick… River had either forgotten or skipped putting boxers on… Duncan now had a VERY pleasant view of River’s body, bare from the knees up where the pants were pinned between his trembling legs. Everything about River was utterly delectable to Duncan’s eyes. His lithe arms, his bare chest, his smooth butt, his tantalizing dick … Which had little spurts of liquid seeping out of it. And then, there was that swell in his stomach that Duncan hadn’t noticed yesterday. Duncan had still been so sleepy that it wasn’t until he noticed those LAST two things that he finally put it together; River was bursting. Fully and completely by the looks of it. And, with as desperate as River was, Duncan doubted he’d peed at all during the night, which meant the damp sheets were entirely his OWN doing. That didn’t bother him, though. Other mornings, it might have. Other mornings, he would have groaned, teared up a little, cursed the organization for making him pee the bed when he hadn’t done that since he was a little kid. But today, Duncan didn’t want River to have an accident as well, so he ignored those feelings and came to his boyfriend’s side. “Do you need help?” River jumped, and Duncan saw a bit more pee shoot out of him from the fright, saw it splash the wooden floor at his feet. They’d have to wipe that up later… “D—Duncan, you’re awake…” River said. “Yeah…” Duncan said, smiling. “Silly River, why didn’t you go pee before getting dressed?” “Ah— H—Hugo saw my pajamas were wet— B—because I peed the bed— so he told me to— And I was embarrassed to say I had to— I— I don’t know, I gotta piss so bad I can barely fucking move.” Duncan nodded, knowing that he at least had ONE way to help River feel better. “Nah, I think last night it was just ME that had an accident,” he said. “You look like you didn’t go all night.” River flinched, gasping with urgency at Duncan’s words. “Hahh—!” His bladder didn’t appreciate having to hear aloud how long it had been since River had last let it relax. “M—Maybe…” He grunted, still not wanting Duncan to feel bad. “I— Fuckfuckfuck—“ River gave in and clutched at himself again, bobbing up and down. The pants rolled the rest of the way down his legs. “I can’t fucking believe this, I can’t even—“ “It’s okay…” Duncan knelt down. He felt pretty silly pulling River’s pants up for him, when he knew it was entirely possible he was going to need to help him pull them back DOWN in a couple minutes, but he did it anyway, slowly pulling them up River’s legs, over his dick and the hands still grasping it. Since they were sweat pants, and awfully loose, River hadn’t needed to even move his hands. Duncan looked at the shirt River had gotten. He WOULD need to move his hands for that… But, he’d skipped boxers, maybe he could skip the shirt, too? “You wanna go to the restroom now, or do you need the shirt?” River really, REALLY wanted to go to the restroom now. But, without a shirt, Hugo could end up seeing River’s scars… In this case, it wasn’t the scars beneath his nipples, nor the one down his forearm, that River was worried about someone seeing. Hugo had been there with him through the whole process of his surgeries, he KNEW they were there and had seen them, he’d had to help River BATHE as he’d recovered, the scars didn’t PHASE him. THOSE scars didn’t, anyway. But, there were a couple other ones, a couple NEW ones, that Hugo might not want to see. Several on his back, caused by acid burns, caused by the Organization. Hugo had never seen those before… “Y—Yeah, I want the shirt,” River said. “Okay…” Duncan said. “You’ll have to move your arms…” “I— I know…” River slowly and shakily released his dick, moved his hands out from beneath his waistband. A lurching, shuddering flare of need bubbled through his bladder, and he bent forwards to reaffirm his grip. “Ahhhnnn….” A little trickle escaped him anyway, darkening the grey material of the sweatpants. “Can’t— Can’t—“ “Um, I’ll help! I’ll help— Um…” Duncan thought for a second. “I’ll hold it while you put the shirt on, if you’re comfortable with—“ River nodded, easing his own hands away again. “DO IT! Hurry!” Duncan went around to River’s front and pressed his hands against River’s dick, sort of trying to pin it against River’s thigh. “If it’s hurting, tell m—“ “It’s fine, don’t let go…” River encouraged, reaching for the shirt and beginning to pull it on. Duncan’s face burned as he kept squeezing. It was a little strange to be holding someone else’s crotch… For THIS reason, anyway. He hadn’t ever thought about it— Why WOULD he think about it— but when he held his own dick to forestall the urge to urinate, things like the amount of pressure to use were pretty instinctual. He hoped he was holding on tight enough for River’s bladder… Duncan felt the warmth of River’s earlier leak, but it DID seem to be cooling off rather than getting warmer, so River must not have lost anymore. Duncan didn’t feel that awkward doing this, either. He’d felt up River’s cock over his clothes lots of times. So far, that was ALL they’d done together, just over the clothes touching. This wasn’t SO different. He just had to keep his hands in the same spot this time, couldn’t move them, wasn’t trying his best to get River erect and wondering what he was doing wrong to prevent that from happening. Of course River wasn’t hard this time, his bladder probably hurt too much for him to get that way. Once River had his shirt on, he brushed Duncan’s hands away and took over, pinching himself closed as he hobbled for the door. “Gotta piss… Gotta piss… Dear fuck, I gotta piss…” He muttered. Duncan followed after him. He sort of needed to go as well, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that River wouldn’t need MORE help. Once more, River reached the restroom door, and no one interrupted him before he could grab the doorknob. He pushed it open and scrambled inside. He shut the door and began frantically bouncing in front of the toilet. He yanked the sweatpants down, letting them fall back around his ankles, and aimed for the bowl. Liquid blasted out of him, slamming into the water and creating a thunderous roar of blissful release. Outside, Duncan had been a little worried about River, wondering if he should have gone in right after him to help him get the pants back OFF, but when he heard the ear-splitting hiss of liquid hitting liquid, he had to assume that River had managed it and was now free to let go. A loud, low groan of pleasure reverberated from behind the door and confirmed it. Those sounds were making Duncan need to go a whole lot more, and he crossed his legs together, let his ankles rub. In front of the toilet, River started to tremble where he stood. This felt so amazing… He could feel the nerve-wracking ball of bloat in his midsection growing smaller, knew that by the time he was done his stomach would be flat again, no longer protruding with far too much urine. He recalled his assessment from the previous day, that he probably wouldn’t be able to fill up a liter bottle even when he was bursting, and thought now that he’d been mistaken. It felt to him like if he’d been doing this into a bottle, he could fill it up just as high as Duncan had. Back in the hall, Duncan saw Hugo come around the corner from the kitchen, ready to head out. Hugo stopped when he spotted Duncan at the restroom door, in his wet pajamas, shifting around. “Did you have a nightmare, too?” Duncan nodded. “I think it was just me,” he said. “River was… Kinda having an emergency when he got up, so he must not have gone last night.” Hugo paused, now able to hear the sound of River’s bladder exploding in the restroom, the furious rush of a stream against porcelain, the light, floaty moans… Then he remembered how he’d seen River right in front of the restroom earlier, and had told him to go get changed right away. It should have been obvious that he’d been interrupting! Yet, he’d still assumed River’s anxious twitching was caused by embarrassment over wetting the bed, not desperation. Aw, jeez… Now he felt terrible! He listened as the jet of water dissipated into a trickle, listened to some shuffling of clothing and the flush of the toilet, listened as River quickly ran his hands under the sink’s faucet for what couldn’t have been even a full second… Then, the door opened, and there River was, face flushed pink, shoulders limp, legs swaying. He had a sort of dazed look on his face… “River, I’m sorry I sent you back to your room,” Hugo said. “I didn’t realize you had to pee, I thought you were just embarrassed!” “I— I sort of was…” River said. “I wanted everyone to think I’d pissed the bed so Duncan wouldn’t feel bad, and then I was… I guess too ashamed to let you know I was desperate when you thought I’d just…” “River, I wouldn’t have felt bad!” Duncan said. “Er, I mean, I would have… But only for a bit! I’d get over it! I’m— I’m ALREADY over it. You didn’t need to pretend it was all you. And— And you shouldn’t feel ashamed to tell someone you have to pee after you’ve had an accident, either. Er… See? I… I wet the bed last night, and now I have to go again, and… And that’s not…” He frowned, chest and face going warm. “I don’t know where I’m going with this… I just don’t want you to worry so much…” “O—Oh, you need to pee too?” River got out of the doorway. “Th—There you go.” Duncan stepped in— doing so a LOT more calmly than River had earlier— lowered the seat on the toilet, pulled down his pants, and sat. As he emptied his bladder with a soft sigh, he could overhear River and Hugo talking. “River, I guess it was nice of you to try to take the blame,” Hugo said. “But… You usually… You speak up when you need to go.” “I tried to earlier, it was just hard!” River said. “Like I said, I got all embarrassed, and stuff.” “That’s… You didn’t…” Hugo didn’t finish the thought. Duncan finished peeing and stood from the toilet. He knew what Hugo had been about to say, and he was glad he’d stopped himself. River didn’t need to hear the words “You didn’t used to do things like that” again. River knew that things about his behavior had changed. River knew that he was more scared now, and that he was more ashamed of himself now. Everyone had been brought to the Organization for a reason. Everyone had been brought there because someone hated them, because someone thought they needed to be punished. The people that had been brought there with River and Duncan had been scam-artists, child abusers, thieves— One person had even been a cold-hearted killer. While Duncan found the method of retribution brought to those people abhorrent, he could at least understand WHY someone had wanted vengeance against them. He could even understand why someone had wanted to make HIM suffer. But, he could never, EVER understand the reason River had been put there. River’s Mother had paid for his execution, and his crime was simply not wanting to take the Estrogen hormones anymore. His crime had been nothing more than just being himself. His Mother had already kicked him out of her home, barred him from her life, but that hadn’t been enough. When she’d seen him volunteering at a nursing home one day, when she’d seen the changes to his features, the scar on his arm, knew that he’d become the person he wanted to be, she’d thought that worthy of death. When they’d been imprisoned, when he and River were about to be killed, videos were shown explaining what they’d been condemned for. And that was how Duncan had learned River was intersex, how he’d learned River had been raised as a girl. That had been surprising, but not as much of a gut-punch as the reveal that River’s own parents had wanted him killed for it. The people whom were supposed to love and protect River the most had done the exact opposite, and the Organization played a very, very long video testimony from River’s Mother wherein she broke down exactly how much she hated River, how much he disgusted her, how much she wished she’d never even given birth to him. Duncan had watched River’s face change throughout the video, and it became clear that his Mother’s words were a worse torture for him than anything else the Organization had subjected him to. So yes, River felt shame now more than he ever had before. It didn’t matter what exactly was causing him to feel ashamed, the feelings remained intense and painful. *** (The reason River doesn’t get hard from Duncan touching him/Hasn’t woken up with a boner is just because erections work differently for someone with a phalloplasty. River CAN get hard, but it’s not spontaneous/automatic for him. Duncan isn’t aware of this, and so expects River’s body to respond the same way his own does and it’s making him anxious when it doesn’t. River also doesn’t realize what Duncan doesn’t know, so doesn’t notice his anxiety. In future chapters, River and Duncan will have more discussions about this, but I wanted to clear it up now for anyone who doesn’t already know. I’m not sure how much River’s Mom is going to show up in this fic, since there is no way the two of them will encounter one another again, so she’ll only make appearances in flashbacks. River’s Mom believes that something she did wrong during the pregnancy is responsible for River being born intersex. She spent his childhood trying to make sure he grew into a ‘normal’ woman and keep him from getting ‘confused’. (Which is also why she refused to tell him about his condition.) Any deviation (such as dressing masculinely for a game) would make River’s Mom panic. She viewed River’s rejection of being a woman as a rejection of all the the ‘work’ she did to make him ‘normal’, and as an act of betrayal. And, yeah, the way the Organization works is, if someone wants another person dead, they can pay money to have them killed. They have to submit a video where they explain why they want that person to die. Prior to their execution, the victim will have to watch the video so they know the reason they’ve been brought there. The Organization also doesn’t really care WHAT the reason is, so long as they get the money. So, sometimes the people killed are guilty of heinous crimes such as murder or child abuse, and other times it’s like what happened with River.)
  17. Hugo had decided to take River and Duncan grocery shopping, and then maybe to the hardware store afterwards if they were up to it. He thought that this would be a good ‘second try’ for them. The mall had been too much. It had been a big place, pretty far from the cabin. But, these stores were both smaller, close by, would still have lots of people, and there were security cameras. If someone tried to lead River or Duncan somewhere that they didn’t want to go, another person would surely notice, and the cameras would record the whole thing, too. River agreed to go. He wanted to visit the hardware store— The hardware store was related to his job. To making himself useful. To doing the things he was SUPPOSED to be doing. He didn’t voice his reasoning aloud to Hugo, though. He knew that Hugo would try to convince him that he WAS still useful, and that he didn’t need to be in their workroom all the time to BE useful. That when he WAS able to help out, that was enough. If Hugo said those things, River would believe he meant them. But, River wouldn’t believe for a second that they were actually TRUE. River DID still come into the workroom and assist Hugo with projects, he kept track of the requests from their customers, he painted things after they’d been assembled. But, River wasn’t as useful as he once was. Because, NOW, sometimes Hugo would turn on a power-tool, and it would make all this noise, and suddenly River would feel very, very scared, and like he was trapped inside the workroom without any way out, and he’d start to… Breathe wrong, like he was choking even though nothing was caught in his throat. The room would blur, and River would only feel like he was partly in the present, one foot in the workroom with Hugo, the other back in the torture chamber the Organization had put him in. And then, Hugo would have to waste so much time holding River, rubbing his back, telling him to stay calm… Time that they both should have spent working. Time that River should have spent being useful, instead of being a burden. River was supposed to be able to take care of himself. He’d done it for years… If he went to the store with Hugo, if he helped him pick out supplies, he would be a little useful again. Duncan took some more convincing. To Hugo’s surprise, he was mostly just freaked out because of what had happened to River during the mall trip. He didn’t want to see River in pain again. “I’ll go pee before we leave,” River said. “I’ve never gone out without peeing first, ask Hugo.” Hugo shrugged, then nodded. He didn’t think River had ever forgotten to take a toilet break before they went out on deliveries in the old days… It just hadn’t ever made that big of a difference since River had to go so frequently. “Besides,” River added. “Now that I think I know why I couldn’t pee at the mall, I know I’ll be fine so long as the restroom isn’t empty.” “O—Okay,” Duncan said. “We can go…” Before they headed out the next day, Duncan kept reminding River to go the whole time they were getting dressed. After the third reminder, River snorted. “Duncan, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m not gonna forget— I didn’t even forget the day we went to the mall, I’ve just got a small bladder.” He took off his pajama shirt, then put his arms over his chest to cover it. “That makes me more nervou—“ Duncan stopped. “Why are you covering up, silly? You wanna tease me?” River blushed. “N—No…” he said. “I— We don’t normally get dressed together, and—“ Duncan took off his own shirt and tossed it aside. He stood beside River, hands on his hips. “Is it a little too exciting?” River looked away, face going even redder. Duncan’s chest was so… River hadn’t known his stomach muscles were so pronounced. He remembered Duncan mentioned he’d liked to dance back during his old life, so that must have been how he got so toned… But, beyond that, Duncan’s chest was so… smooth. Unblemished. Unmarred. “I…” River struggled. “My chest is all…” he lowered his arms. “This…” Duncan looked. River was lithe, his nipples were pink and Duncan suddenly found himself thinking how good it would feel to give them a lick. But, Duncan knew what River was focused on— The biggest difference between his own chest and Duncan’s wasn’t that Duncan was more muscular. Duncan had felt the roughness of those scars a few times when he’d reached a hand up River’s shirt to touch him. The first time he’d felt them, he’d been confused for half a second before remembering what they were. It had never bothered Duncan at all that River had those scars, because Duncan knew that they’d come from something that had made River happy. The same went for the one now visible on River’s bare arm. River had other scars that DID make Duncan sad. Little jagged ones from the Organization, or from fights River had gotten into. Those only upset Duncan because they’d come from things that had harmed River. But, Duncan didn’t think ANYTHING was wrong with the scars below River’s nipples, or the one that went down his arm. “I know,” Duncan said. “It’s not exactly the same as mine. But, that’s not a bad thing.” “You don’t think they look gross?” River asked. “No,” Duncan shook his head. “Not even…” River raised his arm. The scar there was more pronounced than the ones on his chest were, redder in places… “No,” Duncan repeated. “Those are just parts of my boyfriend’s body, and I LIKE his body…” He hoped that was the right thing to say. As far as Duncan was concerned, River was just the really, really hot guy that he was lucky enough to call his partner. But, several nights, River had mentioned other people calling him hot before though, and how those people hadn’t truly meant it. “They were just fascinated by WHAT I was, that’s as deep as it ever went with any of them.” Duncan didn’t think he was the same way. River being intersex and having had surgeries was something that interested Duncan a little, since he’d just never met anybody like that before, but he didn’t think that was the same thing. He HOPED not, anyway. He thought River’s chest was really sexy, scars and all, but that was because it was part of River. He hoped River could see that. And, Duncan had had body issues of his own in the past— who hadn’t?— He’d had the most terrible acne when he was a teenager, he’d always thought his nose looked a little crooked… But, he supposed, those things couldn’t really compare to the complex relationship River had had with his body. Anything Duncan had to offer about it probably wouldn’t be what River needed. River smiled at him, so Duncan decided he must have said something right. “M—Maybe… Maybe I’ll take my shirt off for you more…” Duncan bit his lip to keep from grinning. Now he had something to look forward to. They took off their pants, and Duncan caught River looking at his butt, clad only in his boxers. Duncan wriggled slightly. “Heh, see something you like?” River somehow managed to go redder, and his smile grew. This was the Duncan he’d FIRST met, before they’d made the discovery that the Organization was planning to kill them, when they’d been just two relaxed guys getting to know each other. The playful, flirty side of him… “Eheh, yeah…” he said. “I know I see something I like…” Duncan added. “Think those boxers are too tight, or are you just happy to see me?” “Pfft, that’s the worst line…” River laughed. “You… You really think I look… ‘big’?” “You do,” Duncan said. “I mean, if I was getting a new dick, I would have asked for, like, three feet. So, I commend you on your restraint, but what you have is great.” “Haha, well… My forearm’s not three feet long, so that would have been tricky anyways…” They finished dressing, and River gave Duncan a hug. “Thanks…” he said. “I think we can get dressed in front of each other more often now. I’ve been wanting to, but I’ve been all nervous, and—“ “Don’t be nervous,” Duncan said. “I will never, EVER object to seeing you get naked.” He paused. “Oh, and use the bathroom before we leave, okay? Don’t forget!” River laughed again. “Duncan, trust me, I drank a whole bottle of water earlier, my bladder’s not gonna let me forget…” Duncan had thought River had been a little fidgety the last few minutes… But, he also hadn’t thought the water bottle River had emptied had been that big. His bladder really WAS pretty small, and Duncan hoped that he’d be able to handle the trip without another emergency. The two left their room, and River immediately headed to the toilet. His steps were quick, and he seemed to be trying not to bend his knees too much. Duncan heard him unzipping his pants before he’d even gotten into the room. ‘Wow,’ Duncan thought as he stood beside the front door to wait. ‘He went right after he got up, and didn’t even drink that much, and then he was already acting like he had to go super bad…’ He’d known for ages that River couldn’t hold his pee as long as HE could, and hadn’t ever given it TOO much thought. After seeing River’s agony during the mall trip though, Duncan was worried about going out where restrooms would be few and far between— Especially if there was a chance he’d get too scared again and wouldn’t be able to go! Duncan heard the toilet flush, and River came out looking more at ease. They waited together a few more minutes until Hugo came out of his own room and said it was time to go. *** Riding in a car still felt weird to River and Duncan. They were unused to being in moving vehicles again. Duncan wondered if this was what it felt like to a baby when they were in a car for the first time. As soon as they were out of the woods and hit the first speed-bump, Duncan flinched at the bounce and something else struck him. He’d spent so much time reminding River to use the bathroom before they left, but he HADN’T remembered to use it himself. Duncan hadn’t relieved himself since he’d woken up that morning. It had been several hours, and he’d had a bit more to drink than River… And now that he’d registered the pressure beneath his fly, he couldn’t get it to fade away from his mind again. The irritating, buzzing tingle scolding him for skipping his toilet break was loud and pronounced. How long would these errands take? Could he try to hold it until he got home, or would he have to pee somewhere while they were out? To his dismay, he found that the prospect of using the toilet before they returned to the cabin a little scary. It would be his first time visiting a public restroom since before the Organization… And those security cameras Hugo had said would keep him and River safe wouldn’t be in the bathrooms. They would be a good place to corner someone. That would ONLY be able to happen if Duncan was alone, though. If there were lots of others in the restroom, nothing bad would happen. It was just like River, Duncan didn’t think he could go in public if no one was watching. He shouldn’t be worrying about this anyway. This trip would be short, he’d be back at the cabin before he had an emergency. He’d just hold it in. They reached the grocery store, and Duncan started to feel anxious. There was a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, and they all seemed to be floating downwards, pressing their weight into his bladder. He knew the sudden spike in his need was just nervousness, but that didn’t make it feel any less real. He unlatched his seatbelt, and felt a little better now that it wasn’t adding to the pressure inside his body. Beside him, River undid his seatbelt as well, but then he just sat there, looking out the window. “R—Ready?” He asked Duncan. Duncan nodded, tried to say that he was. He felt the peculiar sensation of his jaw muscles tightening around one another again, and only managed to mumble it out. “Y—Yes…” River took his hand and squeezed it, then got out of the car. Duncan followed him. The pavement felt strange beneath his feet— His SHOES felt a little strange too, for that matter. At the cabin, he and River often just went barefoot, or only wore socks. Duncan had never noticed before that shoes were actually kind of heavy… They weren’t the only things weighing him down though. The nervous tingling buzzes in his midsection were not fading, they were just getting stronger, wrapping a rope around his still filling bladder and making him really sort of wish that he was at home right now, sitting on the toilet with his pants down around his ankles. Duncan… Duncan could hold it until that fantasy came true. He could keep it in. He had to go, it was urgent enough that he couldn’t ignore it, but he could and WOULD manage to wait this out. Hugo came around from the other side of the car to stand next to Duncan and River. “Really quick trip,” he promised them. “Nice and easy.” Duncan nibbled his lip and hoped Hugo was right, if only for the sake of his bladder. Inside the store, Duncan pressed himself to River’s side and clutched his hand. River rubbed his arm gently, but his hands trembled and his touch wasn’t nearly as soothing as he wanted it to be. Duncan felt so ridiculous, being scared in a grocery store of all places. How many horrible disasters had happened HERE, for God’s sake… He was also feeling a bit more uncomfortable. Since none of them knew how to cook, they’d gone right past several sections of the store, but the brief time they’d spent in produce had been long enough for Duncan’s ears to be subjected to the sound of the water misters going off and spritzing the vegetables. The hiss of liquid had been enough to prompt Duncan to rub his knees together and adjust his waistband— which had suddenly started feeling too tight. Duncan relaxed more when they got to the cereal aisle. No liquid there, no running water, nothing to make him think about how much he would have preferred to be in a bathroom. Hugo asked River and Duncan to agree on a cereal, and that sort of reminded Duncan of when he was little and he and his sister had argued over which flavor to get. Duncan was about to name his favorite, but then he heard a loud crashing sound in one of the other aisles. He got that pinching feeling inside his throat, the sensation of his words being forced back down before he’d been able to fully conjure them. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Something almost DID come out of another part of Duncan’s body though, his bladder squeezed in viciously at his fright, and he very nearly let a spurt go into his pants. River had flinched at the noise too, and his grip on Duncan had tightened. “I—It’s just… Something got dropped, th—that’s all…” River knew that it COULDN’T have been anything more than that, but was still relieved when a voice came over the loudspeakers announcing that a spill had to be cleaned. Duncan involuntarily shook a little at the wording. A ‘spill’… He might end up making one of tho— What?! No! No he wouldn’t! He only SORT OF had to go. He wasn’t going to have an accident… Even if getting startled like that had almost jarred something loose, he was STILL totally dry. He would STAY totally dry! “Let’s… Let’s pick a cereal, guys,” Hugo said. He’d been unable to miss their reactions to the crash. Something that would, at most, just make most people jump at the suddenness had made River and Duncan huddle together in fear… Duncan, again, was about to name his favorite, but he had trouble moving his mouth, so he just grabbed it and showed River. River looked at it, but shook his head. “I—I’m sure it’s really good, Duncan. But I’m super allergic to chocolate, so it’s gotta be something different.” Duncan put the box back. He’d have to remember that when it came time to get River a romantic gift… If he and River ever got to be a regular couple that could get little surprises like that for one another, anyway. Duncan picked a different box that was fruit flavored, and River agreed to that one. It hit River then; Duncan wasn’t speaking again. River took his hand once more, and whispered to him. “You feeling okay, Duncan?” Duncan nodded. Still no talking… River’s brow knit with concern. He tried to think of something other than a yes-or-no question. “I’m sure there’s stuff you like that Hugo’s never brought home. What’s something you want?” Hugo had never brought home any microwave popcorn, and Duncan had been missing it. He wanted some today, except nobody would KNOW that if he didn’t say something about it. “P…Pop…” he struggled. His throat felt so closed off, like something was caught in there. It was hard to breathe, let alone talk… “P—“ “Popcorn?” River asked. He wished he hadn’t cut Duncan off like that, he’d just been so relieved to hear him make SOUNDS at all that he’d gotten carried away. 
Duncan nodded again. Embarrassment was starting to join his anxiety. If someone saw him this way… Saw River having to coax words from him, having to guide him into such basic communication… They were going to think something was really WRONG with Duncan. A grown man should be able to say whatever was on his mind. It wasn’t even just fear that was making it hard to talk, it was turning into this actual, physical problem. His nerves got super high, and then everything that controlled his speech seemed to just… Break. It was scary. In the past, Duncan had been such a chatterbox! He’d been loud, talkative, open. He hadn’t been like this. He’d been nothing like this. River rubbed his thumb over Duncan’s hand, and Duncan started to melt. River didn’t think something was wrong with him. River loved him even if he couldn’t talk right now. As Duncan relaxed into River’s touch, an earlier discomfort came back to him. The water-level within his bladder had risen, more pee asking to be let out, and making demands which were far louder than any noise Duncan had made so far today. He definitely was going to need a toilet really soon, his urge for it kept getting worse, the liquid he’d had throughout the day seeming to catch up with him in fast-forward. Throughout the rest of the store, Duncan found himself needing to press his thighs together and squeeze River a bit too firmly to offset the pressure in his body. When they went down the soda aisle, Duncan fidgeted more strongly. The fluid may have all been staying stationary within the bottles, but the sight of it was still a LOT for his bladder to take in. His nose twitched and his lip trembled as his cruel mind kept wondering how the amount of liquid in his bladder compared to the amount in each of the soda bottles. Then, it reminded him of how useful an empty bottle could really be. And of the bottles of water he’d had earlier, of how they were now trying to cram themselves into an organ that didn’t have much vacant space left. When River picked up a few sodas and put them in the cart, Duncan flinched, unable to look away from how they sloshed, unable to ignore the sound they made. His knees turned inwards and he knelt down slightly, exhaling hard through his nose. River saw Duncan twitching, and returned to his side to grip his hand. “Right here, Duncan… I’m right here…” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t like letting go of you.” Duncan clutched River’s hand with all his strength. What Duncan really wanted to squeeze onto was his crotch. Just for a few seconds while he calmed his bladder back down. But, he restrained himself. He didn’t want to think he was that desperate yet… He WASN’T that desperate yet. Just… Every step he took, he needed to clench up his thighs because he felt a leak coming on, and he was unable to stop thinking about how comfortable a toilet seat would feel right about now. But, he wasn’t at ALL desperate to go, because this wasn’t a good PLACE to be desperate to go. If he really WAS desperate here, he’d have to brave a public toilet, where the safe security cameras wouldn’t be, where ANYONE could be hiding out and where, if no one was around to notice, Duncan could be hurt. Therefor, Duncan could still hold it. Simple. When they arrived at checkout, it felt less simple. The bathrooms were right past all the cash registers. The men’s room looked EXTREMELY inviting, the door unobstructed, the sign promising relief. Duncan couldn’t look away from it, memories swirling of how EASY it had once been to use the restroom at a grocery store. It hadn’t been anything he’d needed to think about or get worked up over. He’d just notice the need to pee, and then go pee. Like a normal person. No fear, no anxiety, just the loss of an uncomfortable pressure so he could go on with the rest of his day. He couldn’t DO that now, though! There were so many places to HIDE in a public restroom. Any of the stalls could be a death trap. If… If Duncan saw a few people go in there in the next few minutes. A whole bunch of potential witnesses to any trouble, then he’d go. He kept his eyes fixated on the door, wishing people would go through it, guarantee to him that that room WASN’T empty and frightening. He crossed his legs and rubbed a foot against the opposite ankle. No one was entering the restroom. He seemed to be the only one in the store who needed to use it, but he was also the only one who was too SCARED to do so. River had picked up on Duncan’s antsy behavior. He’d been anxious through this whole trip as well, and was glad it was nearly over and nothing bad had happened. Duncan still looked so frightened though. River pulled him into a hug, whispering to him “We made it…” Duncan went tense in River’s arms, River had pressed them together way too close, his bladder was being smooshed right up against River’s body, waves of urgency flaring out from it, it soared through his abdomen and smashed back down through his length, heat firing up to his tip, scorching at his urethral opening, and then pooling warmly against the crotch of his boxers. “Mmmfff…” Duncan whimpered, hitching his hips and trying to stop the flow. ‘Please, River!’ He wanted to say. ‘Excuse me, I want the restroom!’ But, the only thing that would come out were more whimpering moans of distress as he finally pinched his stream back off. And all they did was CONFIRM to River that Duncan was simply just still anxious about being outside. “Ev—Everything went okay here,” River said. “We all stayed close together, we’re safe when we’re together…” Duncan nodded, an idea hitting him. ‘Yes!’ He thought. ‘Safe together! You and Hugo need to take me to the bathroom, please?’ But, he didn’t MANAGE anything beyond the nod! River and Hugo couldn’t take him to the restroom if neither of them realized he needed it! He could… He could tell them without words! He could jump all around, hold himself, cross his legs back and forth, do the most exaggerated pee dance ANYONE had ever done, and RIGHT away they’d think; ‘Oh, Duncan has to use the toilet really bad, we should take him there now.’ But… But that would be… Utterly humiliating. He’d been anxious about people noticing his difficulty talking! A guy, doing a babyish potty dance in public, while unable to vocalize even one word… That wasn’t who Duncan was! That wasn’t who Duncan ever wanted to be! No one was going to see him that way! He’d probably be able to talk again when they got back to the car. When it was just THEM again. He’d tell them THEN that he had to go as soon as they reached the hardware store, and say that Hugo needed to go WITH him otherwise he’d feel too scared. That too would be embarrassing, but it wasn’t ‘doing a really obvious, intense piss-dance in the middle of a grocery store’ levels of embarrassing. Duncan just hoped he could make it back to the car before he started dancing like that unintentionally. His bladder felt really swollen. He’d caught River admiring his stomach muscles earlier, and wondered how visible they even still were. His bladder was probably pulling all that skin really taut. He was sure his abdominal region was no less firm, but now that tension was from a straining ball of urine rather than muscle. Hugo finally paid for everything and led Duncan and River out of the store. Duncan bit back a moan when they walked past the restroom. Again, he tried to conjure up some words. ‘Wait, hold on! I need to go! Please come with me!’ But they failed to materialize, and then they were out the door, and his chance was gone. Through the parking lot, Duncan struggled. He kept fumbling over his own feet, needing to grip River tighter to avoid falling over. His breathing was coming out in choppy, pained gasps, like he was trying to bike through molasses instead of simply walk across a parking lot. Sweat rolled off his face in sheets, his body fighting to withstand the stretch inside of it. Ohhhh, why hadn’t he gone before they’d left!? He’d be FINE if he’d done that! He’d be anxious, but at least his bladder wouldn’t be trying to burn a hole through his middle. Hugo unlocked the car, and Duncan was the first inside of it. He slammed his door shut and stuffed both of his hands between his legs. “Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go…” Duncan moaned, his voice returning in an instant to give life to the words he’d been trying to force out for so long. “Ohhhh, I gotta peeeeee….” He tore his hands away from his dick when the other door opened and River climbed in. Duncan wasn’t sure why he’d even let go, since his whole plan was to alert River and Hugo to his need… He’d just… He’d gotten so embarrassed! “River—“ Duncan panted. “River—“ River let out a pleased sigh at the sound of Duncan’s voice. “We did it…” he said. “We stayed calm in there.” “River—“ Duncan tried again. Before he could continue, Hugo got into the driver’s seat and they were off to their next destination. “I am VERY proud of you two,” he said. “I know that wasn’t easy, and I’m impressed by how relaxed you both were.” “I think it helped that it wasn’t super big,” River said. “It also helped that I wasn’t so focused on not peeing my pants.” He laughed then. Duncan flinched, bouncing his knees rapidly and crossing his ankles. His fingers curled around his leather seat— and dear GOD, how he wished it were one made of porcelain instead… “Hugo, I—“ “Do you feel up to going to the hardware store, too?” “Y—Yes,” Duncan answered. “And, I—“ “Yeah,” River agreed. “We should be—“ “I need to go to the bathroom!” Duncan blurted out, and now that he’d said it, he went back to holding himself, doubling over, hands buried in the crease his body created. River stared at Duncan’s twitching, pained position. “… You had to go the whole time we were at the store, didn’t you?” He asked. “Yessss!” Duncan moaned. “I— I wanted to ask you and Hugo to go with me when we were checking out, but I— I—“ “You… Couldn’t talk,” River stated. “That’s it, right? When you’re scared, you have trouble saying anything?” Duncan glanced up and nodded. “And, the only other way I could think of to tell you I had to pee, was to…” “Do… Kinda what you’re doing now?” River guessed. “But, in public where it would have been really embarrassing?” “Yeah.” “Aw, Duncan, I’m sorry!” River said. “I thought you were JUST scared, I didn’t realize you also had to—“ “The hardware store’s REALLY close,” Hugo said. “It’s quicker to get there than it is to get back to the cabin. Five more minutes, is that okay?” “Y—Yes,” Duncan said. “But, I need to— Right when we get there, I need to…” “As soon as we’re through the door, don’t worry,” Hugo said. “I kinda gotta go too, so I’ll be with you.” Duncan gritted his teeth, crossed his legs, and held onto himself for dear life as he begged the car to move just a little faster. Five minutes weren’t long, but they could still be excruciating in the right circumstances. Hugo parked as close to the store as he could, hoping to minimize the amount of steps separating Duncan from the toilets. Hugo tried to remember which side of the store the restrooms were on, and hoped he’d gotten it right. Duncan yanked off his seatbelt and scrambled from the car. He jumped from foot to foot, wishing he could just run straight in there by himself, calling “I’ll meet back up with you by the entrance!” Over his shoulder as he ran to the nearest available toilet. He couldn’t, though. He had to wait, he had to wait so River and Hugo could go WITH him and ensure he felt safe and secure. Hugo, Duncan knew, would keep him and River safe anywhere. River came to Duncan’s side and put an arm around his trembling shoulders. Even now that he was out of the car, Duncan hadn’t moved his hands away from his groin. Poor guy was overflowing… River couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized back at the other store! “I’m so sorry…” he said. “It will all be over soon.” Duncan just kept dancing in place. He didn’t care if someone noticed now. His flailing, frantic motions were still less embarrassing than soaked pants would be, and if he stopped moving even for a second, he’d drench himself from the waist down immediately. Hugo came around and led them inside. He was relieved when they walked through the door and the sign for the restrooms was right beside them. Duncan’s eyes latched onto it, his bladder roiling and doing somersaults in his belly. He had to pee so bad that he was getting nauseas. “Okay, right here…” Hugo said, taking them down the small corridor. Duncan spurted and leaked with each step, drips leaving him as his bladder became determined to explode right at the finish line. ‘Please, please, just a few more seconds, I can make it…’ “O—Oh no…” Hugo’s voice. “FUCK!” River’s. Duncan opened his pinched shut eyes. Then blinked them several times. What he saw in front of him couldn’t have been real. It was impossible. Not NOW. Not when he was already peeing in his pants, not when every second added another gallon to his impossible burden. But no matter how long Duncan stared, the sign on the door refused to change. The men’s room was being cleaned. Duncan wasn’t going to get to use a toilet any time soon. But, there was no space left in his bladder for that! There was no room in there at all! He was filled to the brim, half his body weight was surely made up of urine. His kidneys were floating. His teeth hurt. His eyes burned. He felt like he was going to cry, and then pee his pants. The women’s room was open! Could Duncan ask the others to go in there WITH him, though? That would be… That would be super hard for River, wouldn’t it? Really, really uncomfortable… But, Duncan couldn’t hold it any longer, and there were TOILETS in there, and he needed one NOW, and the only difference would be the lack of urinals and the SIGN on the door, and— Spurt… Hsss… And Duncan was PEEING, and— His eyes welled up, he clutched himself more firmly. He was so lost in his own Hell that he didn’t feel River and Hugo rushing him out of the store, didn’t notice until he was outside again and the sun was blinding him. He was so confused, so disoriented. Fuck… He needed somewhere… God, there were all those display toilets hardware stores always had in the plumbing section! He could use one of those! Yeah, yeah, yeah! So long as Hugo bought it afterwards, no one would complain! Duncan would PEE, and everything would be fine, and— He realized River was helping him back into the car, and he panicked. “I can’t hold it all the way home! I need— I gotta use one of the—“ He fumbled, trying to explain his brilliant ‘display toilet’ idea, and this time his inability to find his words had everything to do with delirious desperation rather than fear. He heard things being tossed around in the trunk, and then the absolutely torturous sound of running water, which prompted more liquid to seep into his already sodden pants. “Nnnnh…. River—“ “Hold on,” River encouraged him. “You can do it…” The driver’s side door popped open, and Duncan heard Hugo’s voice speaking to River, “Here—“ “Thank you…” River said. “Duncan, move your hands.” Duncan whipped his head back and forth. “I’ll pee!” “It’s gonna be okay…” River said, gently brushing Duncan’s hands away even as he made little, mewling protests, begging that he NEEDED to hold himself otherwise he’d GO. Duncan heard his zipper come apart, and that noise was way too much. His dam split apart, shattered into millions of pieces, and he was pissing with such a violent force it almost hurt coming out. His face scrunched up further in dismay, he couldn’t stop! He’d lost it, he was wetting his pants in a public parking lot— Hugo was gonna be mad that he’d peed all over the seat! Duncan realized a few seconds later that he didn’t feel any warmer, and there was a noise he couldn’t identify, a rattling sound… “There…” River said in a soft, encouraging tone. “There you go… That’s better…” Duncan finally opened his eyes back up, and saw that he WASN’T having an accident after all. River was aiming his tip into the opening of one of the large soda bottles they’d bought, and he was in the process of throughly re-filling it. “Sorry you had to hear Hugo pouring this thing out,” River said, still focused on directing Duncan’s stream for him. “A—And I’m sorry that I’m… Fuck, I shoulda asked first before I started touching you…” “It’s…” Duncan panted out, chest rising and falling slowly as the tension slipped away from him. “It’s alright… I was… Losing it…” “I know…” River said. “You… Er… You want me to keep—“ “I’m…” Duncan gasped. His body was floating, he was barely aware of where he was anymore. All he could comprehend was that, suddenly, he was feeling loads better. “I’m too… You do it…” “Okay,” River said, focusing again. Wow, Duncan had so much in him… No wonder he’d been flipping out like that. This was a liter bottle, he’d already filled it past the halfway mark. River wasn’t sure if he could do that even when at his MOST desperate. Duncan had gone super limp, which made the job of aiming for him pretty easy. With his eyes shut and his breathing so slow and relaxed, he almost looked like he’d fallen asleep while gushing. Duncan wasn’t asleep though. He was awake, and mostly alert. As alert as one could be while lost in a world of unfathomable relief, anyway. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to truly register the fact that River was touching his dick. River’s hand was wrapped around it, direct skin-to-skin contact for the first time. Oh… Oh noooo! Duncan’s first time touching River’s penis had been while helping him piss, and now the REVERSE was true, too! The— The first time wasn’t supposed to be this way! He’d wanted it to come when they were in the midst of heavy, passionate kissing, and had been unable to contain their excitement any longer! But… River WAS still touching him now. And… And that felt really, really good. Almost as good as peeing did. Now, if only River would start moving his hand a little bit, just up and down nice and slow… As Duncan’s stream tapered off, his cock started to twitch, he felt it expanding, felt it aching for more of River’s touch, felt— “O—Oh gosh!” River said, hurriedly screwing the cap back onto the soda bottle. Duncan’s eyes opened again, and he remembered where he was. And that it wasn’t the right place for a tryst with River— Especially not their first. River was covering his face now, blushing. Hugo, still facing forward in the driver’s seat, asked “Did something spill?” “Nah—No!” River said. “Don’t look back here!” Now Duncan was blushing too, he shoved his member back into his pants and zipped up. Fuck, how had he forgotten he and River weren’t even ALONE? How could he have let himself get… Like THAT here… “Duncan? You done?” Hugo asked. “You decent?” Duncan didn’t feel ‘decent’ at all. He felt like a total pervert… “Uh— Yeah, I… Finished peeing.” “You wanna go back into the store? You’re not… too… uh…” “T—Too what!?” Duncan asked, panicking. Had Hugo seen it through the rearview mirror? Did he know Duncan had gotten way, WAY too excited? “Er… Wet…” Hugo said awkwardly. Oh. Right… Duncan had ALSO partially pissed his pants today. He’d forgotten that part somehow. “…Yeah, I think we should save this for another time,” he said. “Okay,” Hugo said. “No problem.”
  18. Since the Holidays are coming up I wanted to remind everyone that I take commissions for Omorashi art and writing.

    Also, starting today December 6th 2022, artwork commissions will be 25 percent off. The sale will end Christmas Day, December 25th 2022.

    The sale prices are as follows:

    Sketches: 7.50

    Linearts: 11.25

    Full Color: 18.75

    Background: Additional 15 dollars.

    1. Useless Guy

      Do you do existing characters or just OCs?

    2. secretomoact

      I will do artwork of almost any character 🙂 

  19. “Let’s try something smaller today,” Hugo suggested. “Something relaxing that will get you out of the house for a bit.” River couldn’t think of anything that would be relaxing outside of the cabin. He shook his head. “Let’s all go for a short walk,” Hugo said. “Just around this area. It’s very, very secluded. No one will even be there.” River worried at his lip. No one being there made it scarier. “Yeah, so if somebody shows up all of the sudden, nobody will be around to call the police.” “I’ll be there,” Hugo pointed out. “If someone from the Organization sees us, they’ll probably go after you, too,” River said. He sighed. “Just— Just forget about this, okay? Duncan and I are fine with being inside, where it’s safe.” “So, that’s your plan, then? Just stay here forever and give up?” Hugo asked. This wasn’t the River he remembered from before. He supposed it made sense that his experience had changed him so much, but River had never been one to back down from a fight and just let whoever wanted him hurt win. From the look on River’s face, he seemed to be remembering his former self a little bit as well. “B—Before, I came across some bad guys, yeah. There were gang-members and addicts and just generally angry people who wanted to pick fights with me— But, none of them could do what the Organization can. I COULD fight back against them, some rich, shadowy cult thing that tortures people for money and gets away with it is a lot stronger than I am.” “You beat them once, though,” Hugo reasoned. “You got away. You survived— That means you should try to live.” “I didn’t really beat them,” River said. “I just managed to get out alive. They’re still out there, and nothing I did really damaged them. I wasn’t able to kill their president, and he TOLD me that they were just gonna set everything back up again somewhere else— That they’ve done that for decades. And I AM living, just, I’m living in here now.” Hugo frowned. In the old days, River would never say no to a challenge; he’d always get excited. So maybe if he framed THIS like a challenge… “River… Where did my fighter go? Let’s show them how tough you are!” “H—He’s… He’s still here,” River said, shame welling in his chest. He HAD gotten weaker. He KNEW he’d gotten weaker. He looked away, going silent. Hugo’s heart clenched. This wasn’t River getting excited at the prospect of a challenge. These WEREN’T the old days, and this wasn’t the old River. The old River needed opportunities to show how strong he was and to take charge. This new River needed… Something different, Hugo just didn’t know what. Maybe if he figured out what New-River needed, he’d start seeing more shades of Old-River again… “I’m sorry,” Hugo began. “I think I said the wrong thing. I’m trying to help you, because I want you to be happy again.” “I am happy,” River said. “Mostly. I mean, there’s stuff that I miss, but I can live without them.” “I think a little walk would help you feel better,” Hugo said. “Go talk to Duncan, see what he thinks of it.” And, it was because of Duncan that River agreed to go, because Duncan said that the walk would be scary, but he thought he really needed some fresh air. “We’ve gone outside in the woods before,” he said. “For, like, a minute,” River said. “And we were just right in front of the cabin…” “I think…” Duncan said. “I think Hugo is right and that these woods are safe. I figured that out when I saw how many confusing turns you have to make to get here, remember?” River tried to remember the route to the cabin, and he couldn’t. “Er… I mean, I was sort of thinking about something else when Hugo was driving us home that day…” “Oh, right,” Duncan said. “Well, it’s this super complicated path. I don’t think anyone would know there’s even a cabin down here. So, we’re hard to find, and if we stay in this area, we’ll be safe.” After that, River felt better about going for a hike, but worried that they may end up getting lost in the woods. Still, Duncan wanted to go, and the thought of being all alone in the cabin was too scary to consider. They set off early the next morning. The sun had risen, so the woods weren’t terrifying and shrouded in darkness, but some of the shadows cast by the trees made both River and Duncan jump a few times anyway. When the leaves rustled in the breeze, River would whip his head back and forth, certain that it was the sound of someone sinister following them. “It’s okay,” Hugo assured him repeatedly. “Out here, you need to be more scared of bears than of people.” River hoped they didn’t run into any bears… After twenty minutes of walking, River had gotten used to the sounds of the forest and no longer felt AS frightened. He walked beside Duncan, occasionally grasping his hand and squeezing it. He felt somewhat safer and had an easier time breathing. But, then River had a different problem. River had used the toilet after waking up, like he always did. But, he REALLY should have used it again right before they’d left. He just hadn’t been thinking about it, and nobody had reminded him, either. Everyone had forgotten, too focused on the day’s activity. River had pissed outside tons of times, and it ought to have been easier for him to do it now than ever before. As soon as he realized the pressure in his bladder was too much to ignore, he stopped in his tracks, hands anxiously moving to his fly. But, he didn’t zip it down. People— all animals— were very vulnerable when they were urinating. Peeing out here would mean going deeper behind some bushes, where a person from the Organization, or maybe just a wild beast, could be hiding. He’d have his back turned the whole time, he’d be concentrating on emptying his bladder. He’d be in danger. Peeing while this deep in the woods wasn’t safe. He’d hold it. Hugo noticed River dithering. “You alright?” He asked. River hadn’t gone on a long walk in quite some time, it made sense that he’d get worn out early on. River considered lying and pretending that he was fine. But, claiming that he DIDN’T need to pee when he knew his bladder was small and filled up quickly wouldn’t be a good idea. “I have to take a piss,” he said. 
“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Hugo said. River shook his head. It may have been perfectly easy to announce his need to empty his bladder, but it was a lot harder to explain that he was too frightened to do it out here. Hugo was used to River needing to pee. Needing to pee was perfectly natural and normal. It was expected. River was SUPPOSED to need to pee. River wasn’t supposed to be afraid of everything, though. River had become the ‘tough guy’ in the year’s after his parents threw him out. He hadn’t been fearless, since nobody was, but he’d been the type of person that could fight THROUGH their fear if they needed to. The Organization and his paranoia about it had changed him, made him frightened of things that never would have seemed threatening before. Hugo had made it clear he wanted the OLD River back. River wanted that person back as well— The person he was SUPPOSED to be, the person he’d fought SO hard to become. The OLD River wouldn’t be scared of peeing in the woods. He turned to the bush directly beside him, shuddering and twitching. The new River WAS scared of peeing in the woods. He was terrified of it. He reached for his zip again, and heard Hugo and Duncan walking farther down the path. Doubtless, the two thought they were giving him privacy. Doubtless, the two thought that River WANTED privacy. He didn’t, though. If he had to pee out here, he’d feel a whole lot better if at least one of them kept their eyes on him the entire time. It couldn’t be helped, though. He didn’t want to ask either one of them to watch him piss. That was a ridiculous request that no one would ever understand. Even if River embarrassed himself by admitting to his terror, Hugo at least would think it was silly for sure; Just one more sign that River had changed. He yanked down his zipper and freed himself. Once he’d gotten rid of all his pee, he could run to catch up to them and feel safe again. He could see they’d paused halfway around the next corner. They could still KIND of see him if something went wrong… He aimed between his feet and told his bladder to relax. But, it didn’t. He had the same awful feelings he’d had in the bathroom at the mall the other week. His chest clenched and tightened with icy tendrils of fear, the silence around him grew heavy as his ears rang, and he couldn’t get out even a drop. He stood there about a minute longer, rubbing over his bladder and trying to convince it to empty, but it refused. Before long, the feeling of his hand over his middle became painful and he had to stop. He wasn’t getting anywhere. If only someone was THERE right beside him, staring intently as he made himself vulnerable, vowing to protect him should anything go awry. He was fine peeing by himself at home, because home was safe. But, trying it anywhere else…. He couldn’t go if nobody was looking. He zipped his pants, bladder still unrelieved, and ran along the trail. His abdomen pounded every time his foot hit the ground, but he wanted to feel safe a lot more than he wanted to feel less desperate. He caught up, and Duncan was the first to ask if he was feeling better. River, again, thought better of lying. It was only a matter of time before he started doing a bit of a pee-dance, so it was for the best that Duncan DIDN’T believe that he’d just gone. “Nope, I still gotta piss. I wasn’t able to go just now.” Hugo knit his brow with worry. He’d hoped that the incident at the mall had been a one-time thing… He couldn’t understand why River had suddenly become so pee-shy. Even so, he’d thought it wouldn’t be a problem just around him and Duncan— And that if it was, he’d been certain he and Duncan had moved far enough away from him! But, maybe River wasn’t having trouble because he was pee-shy, it could have been something else. “Do you have this problem often?” Was there maybe some kind of complication with his phalloplasty? It had been a while since the operation, so if something was wrong they should have known by now, right? River shook his head. “Nuh-uh, this is only the second time. The other time was at the mall.” “It’s never happened at home?” “Nope.” Okay, so River’s body was functioning as it should have been. He’d just spontaneously developed a shy bladder for whatever reason. The guy just needed a little extra privacy, there was no shame in that. If he had issues going without a locked door behind him, then he wasn’t alone in that. River would be able to go as soon as they got back to the cabin, and Hugo could talk with him a little more about it afterwards if he wanted to. Being pee-shy was going to make the return to society a little trickier for River, but Hugo was sure they’d think of a way to manage it so that River knew where he could go for a secluded pee. “River, is it an emergency?” Hugo asked now. “Or, do you want to keep walking for a little while?” River didn’t think it was an emergency, and he figured he had a little time before it turned into one. He filled up fast, but was sure he could handle it a little longer. “Yeah, we can keep going, but not for TOO much longer,” he said. “I think I can wait for about one more hour before it gets bad.” They returned to their walk. Hugo had brought along water bottles, but wasn’t sure if he should tell River to drink or not. It was hot, River hadn’t done any real exercise in forever, so he was sure to get sweaty. But, the guy had ALREADY told Hugo that his bladder was uncomfortable to carry, so he didn’t know if he should risk ADDING to his burden. Duncan asked for a drink a few minutes later, and Hugo watched River’s reaction carefully as he passed a bottle to Duncan. River’s eyes were fixated on the water as it sloshed slightly from the movement. A gentle splashing noise was heard when Duncan brought it to his lips, and Hugo saw River’s hips wriggle in response, his sweaty face scrunching up. River NEEDED to drink water, yet at the same time more fluid was the last thing one part of his body needed. “You doing okay, River?” Hugo asked. River flinched, noticing the sway in his hips that he’d been powerless to stop. He blushed and stared down at his feet. This extra, careful attention being paid to him just because he’d said he needed the bathroom… It made him feel really funny. “Um—“ “You have to tell me if it’s becoming an emergency,” Hugo said. “You say the word and we’ll go right back.” River shifted on his feet. The pressure in his bladder had gotten a lot worse, and he needed to keep his legs close together to keep it from throbbing too strongly. He was probably supposed to just feel really embarrassed, right? Having his bladder be the topic of discussion, having someone be so CONCERNED about how urgent his need was… There was embarrassment, but there was a lot of something ELSE, too. In the past, before the Organization, it was common for Hugo to notice River fidgeting in the car and ask “You gotta take a leak? Want me to pull over?” But, that would be all. River would say yes, Hugo would search for a public restroom, and that would be that. And, even if it took a while to find a toilet, Hugo wouldn’t do much ‘checking in’ with River to make sure his bladder wasn’t hurting him. Now, Hugo was being so attentive and careful about it… “I— I can keep going for a little bit more,” River assured. “We should turn back around soon, but I can— I’m holding it.” They went further down the trail, Duncan returning to his spot beside River and grabbing his hand. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go,” he whispered. “You’re okay, right?” River felt like he was melting. The heat of the embarrassment had all but vanished, leaving only the pleasant warmth that came from another person being so focused on him. “Y—Yeah,” he said. “I kinda have to pee, too,” Duncan informed. “But, I’m gonna hold it until after you’ve gone. Would that help you feel better about it?” God… River didn’t deserve someone so nice. “Y—You don’t have to—“ “It’s okay,” Duncan said. “I figured you’d want somebody else in the same boat with you.” River went quiet. He’d been desperate a ridiculous number of times in his life, it was what happened when a person had a bladder the size of a humming-bird’s. But, never before had anyone actually WORRIED so much about him because of it. Growing up, if he ever had an emergency while his parents were driving him somewhere, they’d just tell him to hold it. If he ever protested that he COULDN’T hold it, they’d yell at him to be quiet. So, with them, whenever he got desperate, he’d just dance around in silent agony while they completely ignored his blatant distress. Never once had they asked him if he was okay, or helped him find a toilet when he badly needed one. One word about having to go, and they’d bark at him that he wasn’t a baby anymore and that he could hold it until it was more convenient for them. River squeezed onto Duncan’s hand, “I—If you want to do that for me, go ahead I guess.” Ten minutes later, the pressure in River’s abdomen had grown to a constant, numb tingle. These were the warning pulses, telling him that he should DEFINITELY be on his way to the toilet soon. “Er,” he spoke up. “I think I need to go back now…” He bounced on his toes, trying to emphasize his point. “No problem,” Hugo said, and River felt warm all over again. No “Just hold it, will you?” No “I want to keep walking, you need to learn to wait.” Nothing like what his parents would say, just a swift promise that River would be taken to the toilet and that everything was okay. They turned around and headed back in the other direction. River’s bladder felt light and happy with the knowledge it would be getting drained soon. Some time later, it was cramping and surging and tangling in angry knots of need because Hugo had made a wrong turn while leading them back to the cabin. They stopped for a second as Hugo tried to get a handle on where they were. River swayed from foot to foot, he couldn’t lean to one side for very long without his pee rippling and squeezing itself against his bladder’s exit. He was sucking in heavy, sharp breaths, and his face was far sweatier than it had been earlier. He’d been right before; He’d had one hour to get to the toilet before his need turned into an emergency. Now that they were accidentally taking the long way home, it had been WELL over an hour, and River felt like his bladder was going to pop like an overinflated balloon. The hand not wrapped around Duncan’s kept going down towards his crotch, where it would flutter uselessly until he’d managed to resist the urge to grab himself. Duncan rubbed a soothing circle against River’s palm. “Do you want to try to go again?” River definitely did. Piss was searing inside of him, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was actually boiling considering how angry his bladder felt. He was surrounded by trees! He should have already watered half of them by now! “H—How much further to the cabin?” River asked. “I’ve figured out where we are,” Hugo said. “I recognize what kind of trees these all are, I know what part of the forest we’re in.” “Are we close?” “Yeah, we just need to go this way for a little bit,” Hugo said, walking off. River followed, tensing his thighs more and more with each step. “H—How long’s ‘a little bit’?” “I’m not sure…” “H—Hugo!” River gritted. “C—Can’t you give, like, an estimate?” If he knew he’d be at the toilet in twenty minutes, he’d know he’d be able to wait… Any longer, and he wasn’t nearly as sure. “I can’t,” Hugo said. “Are you alri—“ “I need to go piss really, really bad,” River interrupted. “I—“ he ran his free hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m starting to burst.” Duncan gave River another gentle squeeze. “Um… If you need to hold onto yourself, that’s okay even though we’re outside. It’s still only us.” River’s hand instantly made contact with his groin and he shuddered at the little bit of relief that gave him. “I— Shit, I gotta GO… I wanna try again, okay? Please, I— I know this is weird, but I need you to—“ “We’ll give you privacy,” Hugo interrupted. “Come on, Duncan…” Before River could figure out how to protest, how to explain that he actually needed the exact OPPOSITE, Hugo and Duncan had walked ahead of him, and this time they’d gone so far he could only just barely see them. River flinched, already feeling his muscles tightening. But, he just had to go SO badly now, it HAD to work this time! He yanked down his zipper and aimed, trying to pretend Duncan was next to him, watching him carefully and surveying his surroundings. He tried to imagine Duncan’s voice, tried so hard to make himself actually hear it. What would Duncan say if he was there? “Nothing’s happening around here, River…” Yes, that would make him feel safer… “Now, just let it all go…” More at ease… “I mean, I love getting to stare at your dick right now, but we DO need to head home soon…” And THAT part sounded more like Duncan. But, his fantasy wasn’t good enough, and River couldn’t relax enough to get even a dribble out. After minutes of frustration and fullness, he just shoved his cock back into his pants, then whimpered at the finality of zipping them closed again. He had to get home, then he could go. He stumbled as fast as he could towards Hugo and Duncan. Neither of them needed to be told that his piss-stop had been unsuccessful, because by the time he’d reached them, a hand was buried between his straining thighs. “I’m so sorry,” Hugo said. “I didn’t mean to get us lost, tr—try to hang on, okay?” River’s teeth gnashed at his lip. “I d—don’t have much of a fucking choice, do I?” Duncan rubbed River’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll be home before you know it… Do you know why you can’t go?” ‘Because I can’t go with no one watching,’ River thought wryly. He couldn’t repeat those words to Duncan, though. This problem of his was so ridiculous. He’d heard PLENTY of people had trouble going if someone WAS watching, but not once had he ever heard of the reverse. “I just don’t like being alone in the woods, trying to piss,” he said, the closest thing to the truth that he could manage. Hugo nodded. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll have you home soon, and you’ll have lots of privacy there. It will be alright.” River nodded too. He didn’t care about the privacy, but the safe cabin would be sure to give him the relief he craved. They walked on and on, River caught in a world of ever-increasing desperation. Since he’d gotten phalloplasty, he’d noticed that the urge to pee felt very slightly different sometimes. There were occasions where, when he really, REALLY had to go, he’d almost feel like it was inside of his shaft already, partway to freedom. It was an odd feeling, heat and pressure building down his length. He felt it now, and a second later he’d leaked, and then the tension was building again. Whimpering, River slipped a hand between his legs to squeeze away at himself. He pinched the head of his dick, as though he could coax the the piss back up and into his bladder. Even with his hand gripping so firmly, he felt a heavy shock of a spasm flare through his bladder and spread out through the rest of his abdomen. He was dribbling out a small handful of tiny drops. His entire body clenched, from the soles of his feet all the way up through his spine, as if tensing EVERYTHING would cause him to be able to hold it. It didn’t work. Another immense surge hit him, frantic and sharp. He was never going to make it to the cabin at this rate! His hand worked its way even deeper between his legs, and immediately another rippling shot of pain burst through him. “Ahhhnnnn—!!” He gasped out in a pained, strangled yelp. This was really going to happen to him, his urine was all right at the edge, right at the tip of his cock, just about to burst out and there was nothing he could do about it. He held his breath and squeezed Duncan’s hand as hard as he could, struggling to keep walking and keep up with him. Pssssh! A pained leak warmed the crotch of his boxers, it only lasted for a second, but had been so forceful that he could feel how damp his pants were getting beneath his hand. Shit, shit, fucking— His boxers were sodden and sticking to his thighs. He didn’t dare look down at himself. But…that loss of control, as short as it had been, seemed to lift some of his need. And as horrifying as it was to have peed some in his pants, he was suddenly able to walk a little easier. His bladder cramped up again, forcing down another choppy stream into his boxers. He felt a dull point of relief, it felt— It felt almost good to let that little bit out… So, he made a risky choice– He was going to deliberately let go of some more. Just a little bit of the burden. Just enough to take the awful edge off of his desperation. He needed to go SO much that, as soon as he’d made the decision, he felt more liquid flowing out into his boxers. He let it continue, savoring how good it felt to relax his holding muscles. He peed and peed for five, ten seconds – the saturated spot on the front of his pants spread, and he only made himself stop when he felt it gush into the palm of the hand he had welded there. He immediately felt WAY better. But then his urine started to cool off, and his crotch felt sticky and clammy. And then Duncan spoke, “I—It’s okay if you can’t make it…” he said. “I um…” River tensed, and glanced down at himself. There was wetness streaking down his legs, and when he dared to move his hand away from his crotch— God dammit, he was a LOT wetter than he’d thought he was. The material encasing his dick now housed a large, dark wet spot. “A— A little came out…” he admitted to Duncan, but he did NOT admit that some of it had been intentional. “I… Could hear…” Duncan mumbled. River hadn’t even thought about the noise his leaks must have been making… “But, it’s fine, I promise— It’s totally fine if you— If you can’t—“ “I can hold it,” River said, trying to sound confident. What he’d just released should have been enough to buy him some time, right? Five minutes later, and River felt like he hadn’t gone at all. He was starting to seriously consider just allowing himself to have a total accident as he carried on walking. His bladder was getting PAINFUL to cart around, and Duncan had SAID it was okay to wet his pants, and he… Dear GOD, River just wanted to go… Hugo was a few paces ahead of them, and he knew the cabin was close, just about ten minutes left and River would be free to relieve himself, he’d have all the privacy in the world and he’d feel fine… “T—Ten more minutes,” he announced. “River, is that okay?” Ten minutes sounded more like ten hours to River’s bladder, but he forced a nod. “Y—Yeah, I’ll make it…” A minute later, and he was leaking again. Audibly. Both Duncan and Hugo could hear the little spurts being ejected into River’s boxers. Hugo didn’t know what he’d do if River had an accident. He considered telling River to try going again, but that would waste valuable time River didn’t have anymore. He pushed through some bushes and was now in a clearing— Not the one that housed their cabin, but a different one. This one was vacant, if anything had ever been here, it was gone now. Just a grassy area with nothing in it except for— There was an old wooden outhouse. Hugo had thought there might be something like that out in these woods, since they’d been part of a vast expanse of farmland ages and ages ago. He was sure the outhouse hadn’t been properly cleaned in a while, but as he drew closer no foul smells emanated from it, so it was probably MOSTLY okay. “H—Here, River!” He said, not believing their luck. “Th—This has a door for you, you can go!” River was confused why Hugo thought he would care about a DOOR at this point. Really, the outhouse was just taunting him the same way the trees had been. One more spot he SHOULD be able to go, but wouldn’t be able to. “Hurry,” Hugo encouraged. “Duncan and I will wait on the other side of this clearing, and—“ “Pl—Please…” River interrupted. “Don’t.” Hugo blinked at him. “Don’t what?” He was worried River had already begun to soak himself, but he didn’t hear the torrential hiss that would surely cause. “Y—You and Duncan… Please stay RIGHT by the door, please?” “But…” Hugo furrowed his brow. “I thought… I thought you were getting pee-shy…” “M—More like the opposite, I just— Ugh, I can’t explain it right now, just— PROMISE you’ll both stay by the door while I’m going!” “I’ll stay by the door,” Duncan assured. He didn’t understand what River needed, but he was still going to give it to him. “Hugo too, okay? We’ll be RIGHT there.” “Thank you!” River cried, he hurried towards the outhouse, awkwardly doubled over as his legs quivered. His steps were so tiny, but taking larger ones would result in him getting drenched. He grabbed the door and yanked it open, hobbling inside. The outhouse was home to a large hole cut out of a bit of wood, and a circular plastic urinal that nearly made River explode when he laid eyes on it. “Shitshitshitshit…” he hissed out. He released his grip on his cock to tug his zipper down, leaking the second he’d let go. The fabric around his zip was so sodden that it was hard to move, but he managed to get it down and part the flaps of his pants open. He aimed into the small plastic urinal, piss flying from his tip before he’d gotten it pointed properly. His legs parted and shook as he moaned, all the pain within him slowly ebbing away. “Fuuuck…” he sighed, tipping his head back and blinking away tears as he pissed for all he was worth. His stream was gushing out so quickly that the urinal was struggling to drain all of it, he could see the fluid swishing and bubbling as more and more pounded out uncontrollably. “Fuck… Fuck… Ohhhh, GODDDD…” At last, his middle stopped aching and all that remained was the pleasure of release. Once he’d gotten it all out, he shoved his cock back into his pants and hastily zipped them. He heard the urinal sort of… gurgling as it tried to drain away everything he’d just flooded it with. Outside, Hugo and Duncan could hear everything, every patter, every hiss, every last bit of River’s heavy and oddly vocal release. Duncan was blushing all the way down to his shoulders. He was still eagerly anticipating his and River’s first time, and hoped to Hell he could manage to make his boyfriend moan at least HALF as much as his bladder could. Duncan also hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d said he needed the bathroom too. Listening to River let out a symphony of watery gushes wasn’t helping his own bladder at all. He started to rock from side to side as he waited for River to finish. Hugo was blushing as well, not to the same extent Duncan was, and for vastly different reasons. His chest was tightening in sympathy, he didn’t know if he’d ever heard River go so much all at once… The poor thing had a small bladder that didn’t like to hold such a massive quantity, that must have been really hurting him. He was still perplexed by River’s request that they stand here. He’d been certain River was just getting pee shy, but now he knew that couldn’t have been the problem. He’d been focused on getting River privacy because that’s what he’d THOUGHT he needed, and now it was clear River had needed something else entirely. Hugo was so bad at this… River shoved open the door of the outhouse and almost hit Hugo with it. “Ahhhh!” He groaned loudly. “THAT feels SO much fucking better!” Hugo flinched when he saw the door flying his way. “Careful.” “Oh, sorry,” River said. “I didn’t smack you, did I?” “No,” Hugo assured. “I guess you’re okay now?” “Yesss, I feel amazing,” River said. “Um, my turn?” Duncan asked, jiggling a little. “An’… I think I want you guys to stand by the door for me too, okay?” “Y—Yeah, of course,” River got out of his way. Duncan hurried in and shut the door behind himself. It… Was kind of eerie now to make himself vulnerable while he pissed outside of his home. River and Hugo were both right outside the door, and that made him feel better, but he still wanted to keep an eye on it. He pulled down his pants and sat over the hole in the wood plank. He felt more than a little grossed out sitting down in an outhouse even though he’d HAD the option to stand, but his spine would go all chilly and rigid if he faced his back to the door. At least the wooden outhouse wasn’t anywhere near as disgusting as plastic portaloos he’d had to use in the past had been. The wood beneath him was VERY uncomfortable, though. He relaxed and his waterfall was gushing instantly. He sighed happily to himself, blushing at the sound of his pee splashing into the dirt underneath the outhouse. Duncan hadn’t thought his own urge was that severe, but was surprised by how pleasant the looseness in his belly felt now. Poor River must have been exploding, for sure… He stood and pulled his pants back up, opening the door and immediately grabbing River’s hand in his own. Hugo led them back to the cabin, which only took about ten more minutes— But those ten minutes would have surely been too long for River. Hugo was still perplexed by River’s new urinary trouble. He couldn’t make sense of someone not being able to pee because there was too MUCH privacy rather than too little. But, apparently that WAS River’s problem, and it was one he hadn’t had back before… Everything. It was a strange problem, and it was a strange solution, but Hugo’s job was to take care of River. If that meant remaining in the audience whenever River had to urinate outside, then that was just how it was going to be.
  20. River and Duncan had both suffered a number of injuries when they were imprisoned by the Organization. Most of them had healed, leaving behind just physical and mental scars. But, one of the injuries Duncan had gotten had left what looked to be a permanent issue behind. He’d gotten hit extremely hard in the middle with a very, very heavy object. It had been one of the worst pains he’d ever felt in his life, and while he HAD healed up for the most part, it still did effect him. He couldn’t eat too quickly without worrying about throwing up, and sometimes when he sneezed hard enough his bladder would get… Leaky. Even if he didn’t have to go that badly, a sneeze could prompt some dripping and he’d have to run to the toilet. He didn’t think River or Hugo had noticed it yet. He never spurted enough to leave a mark, after all. And he didn’t think the way he always hastily mumbled “E—Excuse me, I need to go…” before rushing to the restroom was TOO suspicious. Duncan didn’t want them to know about this. He’d NEVER leaked in his pants from sneezing before, and he KNEW that the harm done to his body by the Organization was to blame for his new problem. It made him pretty angry, he hadn’t known that ‘not wetting my pants a tiny bit every time I sneeze’ was something he shouldn’t have taken for granted. Duncan couldn’t hide his problem forever. A few days after his and River’s first real outing, they both had really terrible colds. Hugo had expected them to maybe get a little sick as they re-entered the world, spending all their time inside meant they weren’t exposed to as many germs, their immune systems may have been affected. He hadn’t expected them to get quite THIS sick, though. He actually considered postponing all of the deliveries he’d been planning to make so he could stay home and take care of them. River had insisted he leave, though. Their customers were waiting, and River had taken care of himself while sick plenty of times. Being reminded that River had once simultaneously endured pneumonia and a horrendous case of food poisoning while alone on the streets had done very little to make Hugo feel better about leaving them alone. It did the opposite, made him want to take care of River even more to make up for all that time he hadn’t been there. “I’ll be fine,” River said. “I’ll take care of Duncan.” ‘You need someone to take care of you,’ Hugo thought. River eventually convinced him to go, only by pointing out that someone had to go buy medicine anyway and Hugo could make the deliveries on the same trip. River and Duncan had then just stayed in bed, trying to sleep off the sickness. It was hard, though. No matter how they laid, their noses would quickly become clogged and it would be hard to breathe. River started to cough violently at one point and forced himself up to retrieve some water. “No, let me,” Duncan said. “I can—“ River was interrupted by another hacking cough. “I ca—“ “Lay back down,” Duncan told him. River listened, turned onto his other side, and retched some phlegm into his mouth. Cringing with disgust, he shut his eyes and tried once again to sleep. Duncan groggily stumbled to the kitchen and grabbed some water bottles from the fridge. He opened one and started to sip from it. God, his throat hurt so badly, like it was full of little needles and blades. Every swallow hurt him, he could feel the ache move up his throat, through his jaw, up to his ears… But, the hydration was helping him a little. He was so, so thirsty. Before he knew it, he’d already emptied that bottle and had to refill it. He drank it more slowly now, returning to the bedroom and handing the other bottle to River. River drank it gratefully, then laid back down once it was drained. “Want me to refill it?” Duncan asked, finishing his own bottle off again. “N—No, I’m fine for now,” River said. “I want to sleep…” Duncan could agree with that. He got back into bed and snuggled up to River. At least, since they were BOTH already sick, they could cuddle as much as they wanted without worrying about the spread of germs. *** Duncan was out on a date with River. A real one. A normal one. Not just sitting on the couch with him, watching movies, eating chips and calling it a ‘date night’. They were outside, at a real restaurant, like what regular people did. Neither of them felt scared, and Duncan had a vague memory that everyone connected to the Organization had been arrested and could never hurt anybody again. He and River were safe forever now. They could do anything. Duncan felt so free, just being able to sit with River out in public and talk openly, as loudly as he wanted. His voice came out easily, he didn’t need to fight for his words, they were just there. Just like they were supposed to be. Just like they’d been in the days before the Organization. Duncan mostly had to use his mouth to drink water, though. For some reason, he was extremely thirsty. He drank and drank until his stomach was making sloshy noises. River actually told him to slow down, which was funny since usually it was River who ate or drank too fast. They ate and talked, and just enjoyed one another’s company, and their surroundings. It was so nice to see walls that weren’t just plain brown wood, floors that weren’t more of the same. It was nice to have a world that wasn’t confined to just one tiny cabin in the middle of a forest. All that water had to go somewhere though, and soon Duncan was squirming. He couldn’t remember how far they were from home, but was sure it would be too far for his bladder. So, he waited until there was a pause in their conversation and said “E—Excuse me, River, I need to go.” River nodded and waved him off. River didn’t need to be scared about being alone at the table. Duncan didn’t need to be scared about going to the bathroom by himself. Everything was fine now, everything was better. Duncan was eager to start feeling better in another way, though. He stood from the table, feeling a rush of pressure that made him bend forward at the waist a little bit. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed how much he had to go before! When he looked down, his belly looked rounded and hard, straining from all the liquid stuck in it. He walked in the direction of the restrooms, already feeling relieved when he saw the sign for the men’s. He reached out and turned the knob, but it didn’t come open. He paced in place, his nose twitching with irritation. His bladder didn’t want to wait anymore… Duncan leaned against the wall and crossed his legs, rubbing his knees together. His middle felt heavy, like it was weighing him down. It was so hard to stand upright when the boulder of his bladder was dragging him back down. Several minutes passed, and the restroom door didn’t open. Not wanting to be rude, but knowing he didn’t have much time left, Duncan knocked on it. “Excuse me… I… How much longer are you gonna be in there?” He rocked on his heels as he waited for a reply. “Ugh…” came a pained voice from within. “Sorry, it’s going to be a while…” Duncan nibbled on his lip, the surges from inside him growing more insistent. “Er… Can you hurry? I’m sorry, I really need to—“ “S—Sorry, I have a stomach condition,” the other guy said. “O—Oh…” Duncan winced. He hadn’t meant to embarrass that guy, he just really had to go! He turned around to look at the women’s room at the other end of the hall. If they were single-stalls, then it really shouldn’t matter which one he used, right? He started for it, but was beaten by a woman and her three young children. He squeezed his thighs together, nervously looking down at his bloated stomach. Those kids and their mom were gonna take forever in there… Duncan had to find somewhere else to unload his burden. He went back to the table and told River that his toilet break had been unsuccessful. “It’s urgent,” he said with a blush. “That’s okay,” River said. “I don’t mind looking for another bathroom.” They paid and left the restaurant, and Duncan hopped fretfully from foot to foot as he glanced all around. He could hear his pee sloshing each time he jumped, could feel it pushing more and more against his opening. His middle was so swollen he looked like he had spontaneously grown a beer-gut. He wanted to hold himself, but didn’t want to do it in front of River until he just HAD to. River took his hand, clearly trying to calm him. Duncan squeezed down on it hard. “Let’s… Let’s try the comic store across the street,” he said, leading Duncan that way. Duncan was scrambling to keep up, tripping over his feet as he tried to cross his legs and walk at the same time. His bladder was cramping hard, twisting in his gut and making him bite down on pained groans. He had to go so bad that it was giving him a migraine! They made it to the comic store, and there was a sign taped right on the door saying the toilet was only for customers. That wasn’t a problem, though. River had money, and he loved to collect manga, so they wouldn’t have trouble buying something so that Duncan could piss. They entered, and River was already talking to the lady behind the counter. “I’m gonna buy something, but is it alright if he uses the toilet right now?” She nodded, pointing towards the restrooms. “Ah, thank you,” Duncan gasped out, rushing that way. He shoved the door to the men’s room open and burst inside. Finally, finally… There weren’t any urinals on the wall, and he worried for a second that he’d gone through the wrong door. (He HAD done that a few times when he was younger and dying to piss.) But, when he checked, the sign was indeed blue and said ‘men’s’ on it. So, they just hadn’t installed urinals here for whatever reason. That was fine, he could use a stall. Already unzipping, he rushed into the first one, but it was just… Empty. The toilet paper dispenser was attached to the side, but there wasn’t a toilet, nor any piping where one might have once been. Confused, Duncan left that stall and tried the second, but that one was the same. Now, he was frustrated and starting to panic. The third and final stalls were also identical. Nowhere for Duncan to actually GO, and his bladder was sending him a lot of extremely loud messages that he couldn’t carry on NOT going for much longer. The sinks! Yeah, he’d just use the sinks! He sometimes struggled using things that weren’t toilets, but with as bad as he had to pee right now, he didn’t think it would be a big obstacle. He’d just pretend the sink was a funny shaped urinal, and that should be enough to trick his body into letting it out. He hurried to the row of sinks, reaching past his fly to retrieve his cock. But, once he was AT the sinks, he realized this plan wouldn’t work, either. The sinks didn’t have any drains, they were completely smooth. If he flooded one with his pee, he would be unable to wash away the evidence. Instead of freeing his dick, he just squeezed his hand around it, savoring the tiny bit of relief that granted him. This was such a weird place. No urinals, no toilets, no drains in the sinks… It was like the restroom was just there for show and not meant to be used at all for anything! He was still clutching himself when he left the room. He’d intended to let go when he saw River again, but he found that to be impossible. River noticed, of course. “Could you not go here, either?” Duncan shook his head. “The bathroom didn’t have any toilets,” he stated, the words sounding odd to his own ears. River, for some reason, didn’t seem to think that was odd at all. He just shrugged. “Meh, okay. Let’s try another place, then.” They left the store, and River showed Duncan the manga he’d chosen. Duncan wished he hadn’t, since a quick flip-through of the pages told him the plot revolved entirely around a martial artist that had discovered he fought better if he had to pee and so always held it before a big match. “Nnnh, I’m glad my problem apparently helped you choose, but I still have to go, remember?” “I— I know,” River said. “I’m just trying to think of where you can…” He looked around. “I mean, when I was homeless, I had a hard time finding a spot to piss pretty often. Sometimes, I’d have to go behind buildings, or a bush, or—“ “I d—don’t like peeing in public,” Duncan complained, bouncing away and squeezing his member tighter by the second. “It’s just an option,” River said. “Only if we can’t find you a toilet and you NEED to. Wanna keep looking?” “Y—Yes!” Duncan cried. So, they kept searching. They found restrooms easily enough, but something always prevented Duncan from using them. They’d be locked, out of order, closed for cleaning, or not contain any toilets. Duncan was getting dizzy from how desperate he felt, his chest was hurting too, like the piss was flooding up into his ribcage. With as swollen as he looked, it may well have been. Finally, he found a bathroom that was open AND had a toilet inside— Something he didn’t think should have been so hard! He dragged himself up to a urinal and pulled his dick out. Finally, finally… No more pressure. He relaxed, and his pee slammed out of him furiously, striking the urinal with an ear-splitting hiss. But, for some reason Duncan didn’t feel better at all. He still felt like he was desperate to pee while in the midst of going! He didn’t feel even the tiniest lessening of the pain inside him, if anything it was just getting worse the longer he stood there and went! It was so bad that he was bouncing on his feet, hopping back and forth between them— Doing a pee dance even though he was ALREADY peeing! Maybe he’d just needed this so much that it was going to take time before he felt the relief? That didn’t sound right, but it was the only explanation he could think of. So, he waited, peeing away and begging for that loose, fluttery feeling to hit him and chase away all the aching pangs. Over a minute passed. He didn’t feel better. His stomach was still protruding outwards, still stretched. Two minutes went by. It still hurt so bad. Three minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes. His piss kept flooding so viciously, no end in sight. It was like he was going to be trapped there forever now, voiding endlessly and never feeling even the tiniest smidge of relief. Six minutes, and now he’d been going so much that the urinal couldn’t drain it fast enough. Pee was splashing out onto the floor, and he felt terrible about the mess, but he couldn’t make it stop! All he could do was shuffle over to the NEXT urinal and begin flooding that one instead, but within minutes the same thing had happened, and he just wanted it all to stop. His entire body felt full. His head was pounding, his chest hurt, he could barely breathe, and— Duncan’s eyes blinked open and he was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. His hands were tucked painfully between his tense thighs and his legs were knotted up into a confused pretzel. Of course, all of that had been a dream. He should have known. It was too unrealistic. Especially the part about the Organization being gone… He couldn’t spend time wishing that THAT part of his dream had been true, he had too many other things to worry about. First of all, dear GOD did he need to pee. Second, he felt even sicker than he had before his nap. He had the worst migraine in the history of migraines and couldn’t breathe out of either of his nostrils. Third, River was awake and coughing again, so Duncan knew he had to refill the water bottles, but— Ohhh, peeing had to come first! “River,” Duncan rasped. “I—I’ll get you some water after I use the bathroom, okay?” River nodded weakly, didn’t even try to protest and say he could do it himself. He was accepting the help he needed. “I g—gotta go after you, okay?” He said. 

“W—We can go together agai—“ “N—No,” River said. “I’m not bursting, an’ I’m too dizzy to do it standing right now, it’ll go everywhere.” Duncan got out of the bed and River followed. Duncan wanted to run to the toilet as fast as he could, but he had to take slow, careful, deliberate steps to avoid spilling his bladder all over himself. They got to the hallway, and Duncan felt the most awful thing in the world; a tickling sensation in his nose. No. No. If he sneezed now, it wouldn’t just be a dribble that came out… He squeezed his dick with both hands as he shuffled along, trying to pick up the pace and fight back the urge to sneeze. The pressure in his head and bladder both worsened, his nose twitched and wrinkled up. Don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze, please don’t— Too late. Duncan sneezed loudly and forcefully, and his abdominal muscles all contracted at once, forcing out an immense wave of pee that instantly soaked through his pajamas and splashed on the floor. “O—Oh, hurry—“ River said, grabbing Duncan’s arm and trying to help him along. “Achoo!” Duncan sneezed again, and his bladder reacted with an even more powerful leak. “Achoo! Achoo!” Every sneeze pushed more pee from his body, drenching his legs and pooling into a puddle at his feet. He would regain control for a fraction of a second, sneeze again, and then he’d be back to pissing. Finally, he just couldn’t stop going, his control had shattered completely and he was just going to keep peeing until he was empty. Through it all, he continued to sneeze. River was staring, chest tightening. Poor Duncan… Of course, his body was weaker since he was sick, and sneezing so many times would have made it harder to hold… River put a hand to Duncan’s shoulder, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t good at delicate things like this. “Um… There, there? Just let it out?” He mumbled uncertainly. “I— I couldn’t—“ Duncan spoke through a mouth full of phlegm, voice choppy and rough. “Ugh…” He felt so gross. Sick as could be, snot running down his face, eyes burning, throat filled with gunk, and lower body coated in piss. He couldn’t believe River was able to handle touching him now. He also couldn’t believe he still wasn’t finished urinating. He wished it would just stop. Nothing about this release felt good. It was revolting and humiliating and so, so pathetic. His bladder just kept contracting inside him, it honestly just sort of hurt… “I— I know you couldn’t,” River tried to soothe. “It’s just an accident… You’re just really sick, that’s all…” The final few spurts finally trickled out and Duncan was shaking his head. “I—It’s not just because I’m sick.” “Sure it is,” River said. “Your body’s all worn out and stuff, so—“ “I— I always pee some when I sneeze,” Duncan admitted. “But, since I had to go real bad this time, there was… More.” River thought about that, and realized that every time he’d heard Duncan sneeze, it had been followed by him hastily running to the toilet. So, he leaked whenever he sneezed? Even if he didn’t need to pee very much? “I—I guess that’s how it is for some people, then,” he said finally. “Don’t be embarra—“ “It wasn’t always— I didn’t used to—“ Duncan sighed. “You remember when I had those weights thrown into my stomach?” Of course River remembered. It had been terrifying to see. He nodded. “Well… After that, some stuff’s been acting weird,” Duncan explained. “You know how I eat slower than y— Well, I guess everyone eats slower than you… But, if I eat too fast, I throw up.” River recalled Duncan scarfing down their first meal after their escape, and then suddenly looking worried and running to the bathroom… He hadn’t known all of his food was coming back up. “Oh.” “And, also ever since then, sneezing has made me pee. I think the weights did something to my insides.” River wished Duncan could see a doctor… Hugo had had enough first-aid training to tend to all the wounds they’d had, but no way could Hugo fix something that was internal. What if there was some super serious damage to Duncan’s body, and they didn’t know because they couldn’t see it? “W—Well, it’s okay,” River said, knowing it really wasn’t. This sounded like it would be a permanent thing Duncan would have to live with now; A life-long injury which he’d done nothing to deserve. “Accidents happen… I mean, you’ve seen me have one.” Duncan nodded. River had utterly drenched his pants out of fear when they’d been with the Organization. Duncan frowned, realizing that both of their accidents had ultimately been because of the same people. “We need to clean up…” he said finally. River really didn’t feel like mopping the floor. He was so, so dizzy… He knew they had to, though. Duncan had made an awfully large puddle. “I—I’ll go get—“ They both froze at the sound of the door unlocking. They always got scared by that sound, even though it was always only Hugo coming home. River tensed up and pressed himself against Duncan, not caring that his boyfriend was soaked. “I’m home,” Hugo called. “Feeling any bett—“ He stopped as he entered the hall, immediately spotting the puddle. “O—Oh…” he said. Duncan pressed his face into River’s shoulder, too ashamed to look at Hugo. “I— I sneezed really hard when I had to— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“ “It’s fine,” Hugo interrupted. “You’re sick. It happens. I’ll get it cleaned up, just change and go back to sleep.” Duncan shuffled away, shielding his face with his arm. River wanted to go after him, but his own bladder still needed attention. He thought about trying to wet his pants to make Duncan feel better, except then he’d make a bigger mess for Hugo to clean up. He went to the bathroom instead, pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet. It was odd, not only had phalloplasty granted him the ability to pee while standing, but it had also made it so that he could finally SIT to go without any issues. He didn’t have to hover and bend around until he was at the right angle, he could just sit and relax and be done with it. His bladder would empty, and nothing would spray out between the seat and the rim. His knees would stay dry. The floor would stay dry. Every time he woke up to pee in the middle of the night, he’d be so thankful that he could just groggily sit there without having to think about it anymore. He shouldn’t have ever had to do the stupid hovering thing. If those doctors around for his birth had just left his body ALONE instead of trying to modify it to look more ‘normal’, River wouldn’t have had so much trouble peeing. He wouldn’t have had so much trouble with a LOT of things. He finished going and pulled up his pants. He rinsed off his hands and wobbled tiredly back to his room. Duncan was in bed, wearing fresh pajamas and staring at the ceiling. River laid down beside him. “It’s okay…” he told him once more. “I peed… I wet myself…” Duncan said. “I know… But, it’s over now,” River told him. “I don’t think any less of you. Hugo doesn’t, either. You’re okay.” Duncan turned and rested against River. “I hate being sick…” “I know, me too.”
  21. “I think that I pushed you both too much,” Hugo admitted that night. “I’m really sorry.” “It’s okay,” Duncan said. “It isn’t,” Hugo said. “You both said you weren’t ready, and I… I just really, really don’t know what I’m doing.” “You’re trying,” River told him. “You’re right, we do need to get outside. We can’t hide in here for their rest of our lives.” “It was too much at once,” Hugo said. “I wish I knew— I wish there was some guide for how to do this, or that I could take you guys to someone… Qualified.” He knew Duncan and River both needed therapy— Probably years of it. But, they’d need to show so many records to get to see a doctor, and with the number of eyes the Organization clearly had, obtaining those records would be a very easy way to get found. River also knew they needed therapy. But, not only was he scared to go looking, he was sure that if he told his story TO a therapist, they’d think it was a delusion and not something that had actually happened to him. Even with Duncan corroborating it, telling the same story with the same details, it could be written off as some kind of SHARED delusion. And then what would happen? They could only rely on each other, and on Hugo. And none of them had any idea what they were doing. Hugo couldn’t shake the feeling that what he’d done today had caused River and Duncan far more harm than good. It ate away at him as he laid in bed that night. He tossed and turned, trying to think of something else he could do to help them recover and feel safe again. Recently, he’d gone out and gotten a gun license, and then a rifle to keep at home— Even though he despised guns. It had been worth it when he saw River and Duncan both visibly relax when he informed them that he had a weapon. Maybe they’d like to have something they could carry around with them for self-defense? Definitely not a gun, but something like pepper spray? Or a pocket knife? Just anything they could always have on-hand in case they needed it? Hugo didn’t like having to think this way, stuff like this made him sick to his stomach. *** Duncan had made a mistake. Every night he tried to remember to use the restroom before going to bed. He HAD to remember to do that, because he was too scared to move around the cabin by himself at night. Tonight, he’d forgotten to go. And, as a result, tonight was terrible. He didn’t realize his mistake until River had already started to snore, and he could no longer ask his partner to accompany him without rudely shoving him awake. So, Duncan had told himself to just try to go to sleep and wait until morning. Half an hour had passed since then and he didn’t know if he could… He’d tried his best to fall asleep, but relaxation was hard to come by with a bladder that was screaming for release. He’d been holding his crotch for ages. Since River was asleep, Duncan saw no reason to feign any modesty about his situation. He could squeeze away and squirm as much as he wanted. The trouble was that it really wasn’t helping him all that much. His legs were crossed, his dick was being firmly clutched, and still his bladder scorched within him, pee pounding in a harsh rush against his opening. This whole situation felt awfully familiar to him, too. When he’d been younger, his parents had sent him to a fancy boarding school once he’d entered the sixth grade. The rules at the school were extremely strict, and his first day there it had been stressed to him that there were no exceptions for the nightly curfew; He was NOT allowed to leave his dorm after eight PM, unless the place was on fire. And, Duncan had misunderstood this rule completely. When the headmaster had said “No leaving the dorm”, he’d thought that meant he wasn’t allowed out of his room during the night. And, his first night there, he’d woken up in his unfamiliar bed, badly needing to relieve his bladder. He’d started to crawl out, when he’d remembered the rule. He had to stay in his room until morning! It had been impossible for him to fall back asleep, his bladder was much fuller than he could recall it EVER getting. His pajamas were loose, but still felt like they were strangling his middle. He tried and tried to wait for his alarm to go off, hopeful that he could be first in line for the restroom at the end of the hall, but before he knew it, he was flooding his pants and no amount of clenching helped him regain control. His pants and sheets were completely drenched within seconds, and he just had to lay there, fearful of what was going to happen when his dorm-mates woke up and found him soaked. The teasing the next morning was worse than Duncan could have imagined, and it all made him so frustrated that he’d shouted at everyone. One of the dorm supervisors heard, of course, and came to see what was happening. Fighting back tears and still damp with urine, Duncan exclaimed “It isn’t MY fault that I can’t go to the toilet after eight in the evening!” So, the supervisor had re-explained the rule to him; He WAS allowed to leave his room and relieve himself whenever he needed to. He just wasn’t allowed to leave the building during the night. Duncan’s dorm-mates laughed at him even more after that— They’d thought it was hilarious enough that he’d just peed the bed, but once they knew he’d had an accident because of a silly misunderstanding, they thought it was twice as funny. Duncan had felt like such an idiot… Now, here he was trying to do the same thing all over again. Trying to restrain his bladder until morning came when he knew how unlikely he was to actually do it. Except, this time, when the inevitable happened, he’d probably drench River too. Truth be told, he and River had accidentally gotten pee on one another during the night lots of times before. They both had so many nightmares, and sometimes their bladders would empty in response. Some mornings, they each woke up so wet that they couldn’t tell which of them had had the accident, or if BOTH of them had done it. When Duncan peed in his sleep and got River wet, River was never angry. The same was true if River leaked some on Duncan. They both knew it was uncontrollable. They’d just change and try to forget that it had happened. If Duncan had an accident now while he was awake and fully cognizant of what was happening, it wouldn’t be the same. River may easily believe Duncan had just had a bad dream again, but Duncan would still know the truth, and it would weigh on him like a lead ball chained to his ankle. Duncan had to keep it in, he had to do whatever it took to keep it in. He squirmed, rubbing his knees against one another with a whimpering moan. River stirred, and for a second Duncan thought he may have woken him up. He’d feel bad, but also relieved that he could ask River to take him to the bathroom. A moment passed, and River’s arms groped forwards, wrapping around Duncan and tugging him closer to his body. He was still asleep… Normally, Duncan would be happy for the cuddling, but now he had far less room to move when his body was begging him to squirm in all directions. He could still keep his hands on his cock, could still pinch himself shut, but he couldn’t kick his legs about or flail his feet around. His bladder seared, feeling more full by the second. He also could no longer just give up and FORCE himself to hurry through the spooky, dark cabin until he got to the toilet. River had him stuck in bed now. ‘Just hold it…’ Duncan thought. ‘You can wait.’ His bladder throbbed mercilessly. It couldn’t wait. There were a few things Duncan could do when he was desperate for relief and had no way of obtaining it. Apart from the squirming and clutching, there was one other thing that sometimes helped him out. He didn’t do it every time he had to pee— There were a lot of situations where he just COULDN’T do it— But, when he COULD do it, it always took a TON of the edge off. He’d discovered it when he was in tenth grade. He’d been the last one to leave the boarding school’s library one night, and he’d gotten into the elevator to head back down, bouncing on his toes and cursing the sound of the heavy rainstorm outside. Duncan had been in a big hurry for two reasons; One, he only had about thirty minutes before he’d miss curfew and get into trouble. Two, he was absolutely bursting for a piss and the men’s room at the library had been out of order. He’d considered using the women’s— No one was around to see him do it, after all— But, he’d decided against it, certain he could make it to his dorm before he exploded. He’d regretted his choice immensely when the elevator got stuck. He hit the emergency button over and over again, because he was having one of the most serious emergencies of his life, but there wasn’t any response. It was then that he realized the lights had gone out on all of the buttons, and that the elevator had stopped because the power was out. He was going to have to hold it until it came back on. Duncan had tried everything, squirming, hopping, twisting in all directions and squeezing himself as tight as he could, grateful that he was totally alone in the dark. He’d begun to fantasize about just unzipping and pissing a flood into one corner of the room, but grew scared his parents would be called upon to replace the carpet. He and his parents ALREADY didn’t get along that well, and the thought of how mad they were sure to be if he damaged school property with his piss made him all the more determined to hold it. But, he COULDN’T hold it! It was almost coming out of him! He was going to have an accident before long! He hadn’t gone since that morning, he was gonna explode, he couldn’t— Remembering his one other pee of the day, taken almost immediately after he’d woken up, he recalled he’d had a little trouble getting his stream started at first. That wasn’t uncommon for him early in the morning, since he tended to wake up with… Well. He shared his dorm room with three other guys… And there were certain very important things Duncan HAD to do and NEEDED privacy for. When school was in session he had trouble attending to… to certain needs as often as he’d like. And… Yeah, maybe he’d get kind of ‘pent up…’ He had wet dreams. A lot. They humiliated him whenever one of his dorm-mates noticed. He swore he got random ‘What? Why?! I wasn’t even thinking about anything!’ boners more often than anyone else must have gotten them. And, pretty much every day, he’d have morning wood. And, he couldn’t piss until it had gone down. He couldn’t piss if he was… Duncan had felt disgusted with himself for even considering it, but he thought maybe it would help him hold it if he… He didn’t have to work that hard to talk himself into trying it. He’d just… Started doing it. Right there in the darkened elevator, over his clothes, and it… It DID make it easier to hold on. A couple years later, he was stuck in traffic and dying to go. He was alone in his car, and the windows were tinted so no one could see in. Again, he’d fondled himself overtop of his pants until his dick was too hard to let anything out. It had worked. It could work NOW, too. River was sleeping, Duncan was basically alone… His bladder was sending him some VERY angry signals that if he didn’t do SOMETHING, he was going to explode. Duncan’s hands went from squeezing his tip to rubbing at his dick. After a few seconds, he tucked one hand down below his waist-band to stroke himself properly. This wasn’t like the time in the elevator— At that point in Duncan’s life, a sharp enough gust of wind outside was enough to get him hard. It took longer for his cock to respond, not helping was how terribly his bladder was hurting. It kept throbbing so powerfully and painfully that it cancelled out all the good feelings of his hand working his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to come up with a fantasy. Naturally, the first thing his body WANTED him to fantasize about was simply running to the toilet, sitting down and having a long, satisfying piss. But, imagining THAT was not going to help. He needed something else. He’d… Touched River’s dick today. For the first time. He was still surprised by how warm it had felt in his hands, by the contrast between the smooth skin and the rougher areas of scar tissue. It wasn’t exactly what he’d expected it to feel like, and he was so curious about how River’s dick would react to different touches… There was a part of him that was wary of his curiosity. He’d been with other men before, and hadn’t ever thought about their dicks in this kind of detail. He’d never felt the urge to compare any of their dicks to his own to the same degree he did with River’s. Was he only more fascinated because he had feelings for River that he hadn’t had for anyone else, or was his fascination just voyeuristic, or fetishism? Was he disrespecting River in his mind any time he started wondering about things relating to his body, or was it just completely normal to be having those thoughts about someone he was so attracted to? Duncan sighed, he was trying to get his dick hard as diamond, this wasn’t the time to be stressing out about that stuff, was it? River had never gotten upset by any of the questions he’d asked before, so he must not have ever said anything bad, right? Or, at least, if he had, River knew it was an accident? Oooh, accident… Duncan’s bladder cramped up, a drip of urine pooling warmly on his tip and rolling across his skin. He was gonna have an accident… He tried picturing River from earlier, moaning away as Duncan held his dick… Except, instead of moaning because he was relieving himself, he was moaning because Duncan was pumping his cock expertly, making him feel better than he ever had before in his life. Duncan kept up the strokes against his length, moving faster and faster, wriggling his hips urgently. Heat was building inside him, and he couldn’t tell if it was arousal or his piss trying to force its way downwards. He felt himself getting stiffer, his cock beginning to lift and stand, some of his need to piss fading the more excited the rest of him got. The tricky thing about doing this was that Duncan couldn’t actually allow himself to get off. He’d made that mistake the first time in the elevator, he’d just gone so long without cumming that within minutes he’d done it in his pants and then nearly wet himself once he’d finished. If he came, it would take all the strength in the world not to pee right after. Duncan didn’t have that kind of strength tonight. He had to pleasure himself enough to maintain his erection, but not so much that he orgasmed. The more he thought about jerking off River, the closer and closer he felt to cumming. He kept feeling it building up, tightening inside him, his dick begging for more caresses, and he’d fight to restrain himself and slow back down. He was beginning to pant and gasp, twitching with two different kinds of very urgent need— Neither of which he was allowed to grant himself. The fullness of his bladder, for whatever reason, now seemed to be heightening the intensity of his ecstasy. Something about all that pressure weighing down on his most sensitive area, all while he stroked and stroked away at it, was creating an absolutely exquisite sensation that had pre-cum leaking out and coating his hand. “Mmmf… Nnnh…” he mewled into the quiet night. He was beginning to picture River on top of him and inside of him, rubbing his cock as he moved faster and faster. “River… Ah…” He was getting bleary now, and he perhaps felt a little silly jerking off while fantasizing about the man literally laying right next to him, holding him, but that only made him even more excited. River WAS touching him now, just not— Wait. Was this okay to be doing? River was asleep right now, if he didn’t want Duncan masturbating next to him, he couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t aware of it… This was… This was wrong, wasn’t it? Duncan made himself slow back down, his urgency to pee already spiking as soon as he’d stopped playing with his dick. 

It… It wasn’t like he was touching River or doing anything TO River, but he was still… This was probably something he should ask permission to do? ‘Hey, River, if I’m ever in bed and about to piss my pants, and you’re asleep next to me, do you mind if I edge myself so I can hold it easier?’ Guh, what kind of a question was that!? His dick was twitching now, still hard but starting to go softer with the lack of stimulation, and he was needing the toilet worse and worse with each second. “Nnnh…” he gripped his cock again, squeezing and whimpering, and— And, oh GOD he needed to— River stirred beside him, groggily sitting up, there was a rustling as he fanned his legs, and then a pained sounding moan. “River—“ “Duncan, you’re awake?” River asked. “Ye—“ “Oh, thank God, I have to go piss SO bad, can you please come with me?” “H—Huh?” River whispered, even though they were alone. “It freaks me out to leave our room at night. I want you with me. I—If you’re too sleepy, I’ll try and—“ “N—No!” Duncan said, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’ll go! I— River, I’ve been needing the restroom too, just didn’t want to wake you up about it.” “Y—You could ha—“ River broke off, bending over on himself, before frantically scrambling from bed. Duncan followed him, hopping up and down as soon as he was on the floor. The cold wood on his bare feet was intensifying his need to such a degree that he couldn’t pull himself upright all of the way. Anxiously, they both left their room and fumbled down the hallway. 
Duncan always let River go first, because he knew River had a smaller bladder than he did, but after hours of such intense discomfort, he was already nearly going as soon as he saw the door to the toilet. “River, I’m— I’m sorry, I think I need to use it first…” River winced, gripping the crotch of his pajama pants tightly. “Duncan, I’ve already… My bladder is REAL sore from earlier, and—“ He stopped. Duncan looked like he was going to collapse into a puddle if he didn’t relieve himself within the next minute. “Ah, can we go together?” “H—Huh?” “I can’t wait, you can’t wait. Let’s just—“ “I—“ Duncan struggled, wanting to explain that he didn’t feel safe having his back to the door while he peed, and that he didn’t know if they could share the toilet if he was sitting down. He could stand just this one time, except it would be extra frightening to be facing away from the door at night… “I— I sorta… Almost always sit to—“ River shrugged. The first few times he’d peed standing up, he’d sort of… Missed a little. It had taken practice for him to get good at it. Hugo had encouraged him to keep trying, and eventually he no longer had trouble. Maybe Duncan had just never gotten good at it. “If your aim’s THAT bad, we’ll just—“ “No— It’s— I wanna be able to see the door!” “Oh…” River said. He could understand that. He didn’t like facing away from the door THAT much either, but… God dammit, he and Hugo had spent a TON of money and he’d given up part of his arm so that he could stand to piss, so of course he was going to do it! “Er… Spread your legs apart, and I’ll try to… Ugh, I dunno, Duncan. I can’t hold it anymore, I just gotta piss.” They could TRY that… “O—Okay,” Duncan said, hurrying in and yanking his pants down. River followed, unbuttoning his pajamas and pulling himself free. A little drop of pee was visible on his tip, so Duncan KNEW that they either had to go together or pick which one of them would pee on the floor. Once his pants were down around his ankles, Duncan threw himself onto the seat and unclenched his aching muscles, a powerful jet of pee spraying out into the bowl below him. “Ahhhh….” Duncan smiled, shutting his eyes in bliss. His bloated abdomen was shrinking away, and his lower stomach felt almost like it was being treated to a wonderful massage. All the tension finally fading away into nothingne— “L—Legs!” River gasped out. Duncan blinked his eyes open, confused, then realized that his legs were drawn together and River had no way of using the toilet himself. He quickly spread them apart, giving River a view of his cock pointing into the bowl, and the heavy stream spraying out of it. River aimed as carefully as he could, kneeling down a bit so that he’d have less room for error, he was dribbling the entire time he was getting himself situated, and pissing full-force as soon as he was in the right spot. “Hahhh….” Duncan’s eyes widened, River wasn’t peeing on his thighs like he’d been a little worried about, but his stream would occasionally make contact with the tip of his dick. It didn’t feel… Bad. His cock was super raw and sensitive from not just his desperation, but the edging session from earlier as well. Anything touching it was going to feel good, even bits of River’s piss… It was especially going to feel good when he was still enjoying the euphoria of his relief. His cock twitched, starting to react to how amazing it felt to finally go. His release dwindled from being a steady, rushing stream to coming out in big spurts that he had to push down harder on to get out. He’d gotten WAY too full. Duncan was finally drained, but he had to keep sitting there a while longer since River still wasn’t done. Duncan didn’t mind having to wait. He sort of NEEDED to stay sitting while he tried to catch his breath and become reacclimatized to how it felt NOT to be overflowing with urine. River’s stream slowed to a stop and he stayed as he was for a second, now feeling very awkward. They’d just done something REALLY weird, and now River had to…. “Er, I have to… Shake, you know? And I don’t want it to fly on you.” Duncan reached down and shook his own dick before silently standing and scooting past River. River shook the last drops off of his tip and put his dick back in his pants. River went to wash his hands next and then groaned. “Hm?” “One of us should have just used the sink,” River said. “That would have been LESS strange, right?” Duncan doubted if he could make himself pee in a sink. He usually couldn’t even get it to work when he was in the shower! “It’s okay,” Duncan said. “At least we both made it, right?” “Yeah,” River said. “I really didn’t think I was going to.” “Me neither,” Duncan admitted. “Let’s go back to bed now… And maybe not drink so much before we go to sleep tomorrow.”
  22. Hugo came home hours later, by which point River was again dying for the toilet. Having brought himself to the absolute bursting point earlier, his small bladder was tired out, his holding muscles sore and not eager to do all that again. But, he felt certain he could hold THIS piss back until the restroom was available again. That didn’t stop him from hovering over Hugo the entire time, hopping from foot to foot and muttering the word “Hurry,” under his breath over and over, though. Duncan had to go quite a bit by that point, too. His bladder was pinching at him, protesting his vow to let River take the first turn in there. Not that River waited to be TOLD that he could be first to go. The second the door cracked open, River had shoved his way through it. Duncan heard his zipper getting torn down before the thing had even shut all the way. Through the material, Duncan could make out the hissing crash of River’s desperate stream pouring out, and the fluttery moan he couldn’t help but release. Duncan crossed his legs tightly at all those noises. “Ooohhhh…” he whimpered. “You really need it too, huh?” Hugo said. “Sorry, River really should have ASKED if he could go fir—“ “I—It’s fine,” Duncan said, letting a hand drop down to his waist and grip around his dick. “I was already gonna let him go first…” “He still should have asked… I’ve been working on it, but he’s never had the greatest manners.” “It’s really okay,” Duncan said. He hopped a few times. “I— Ooooh, I need to— I— I’ve sort of noticed River can’t… Wait as long as me.” “Ah, yeah,” Hugo said. “I’d have to pull over for him pretty much any time we drove anywhere, back before… Before…” Duncan looked away. He was sure Hugo must have missed being able to go places WITH River. He didn’t know their entire history, but the way Hugo looked at River was the way a man would look at the son he was immensely proud of and loved with all his heart. It must have been soul-destroying not to get to bond with him in the same ways anymore. Duncan finally heard the toilet flush, and he bobbed up and down as the water moved its way through the pipes. ‘Ah— Hurry, River!’ He thought. He listened to River rinsing off his hands— River seldom really ‘washed’ them after a pee, just ran them under the water for a couple seconds— And, at last, all the torturous, watery noises went away and the door was open. “E—Excuse me,” Duncan mumbled, pushing past River and Hugo to take his turn. As he pulled down his pants, he heard Hugo murmuring to River; “See, that’s what YOU should have said once I’d gotten the door open for you, instead of just shoving.” Duncan sat on the toilet, exhaling breathily as his stream pattered into the water below him and his bladder finally deflated. ‘Hugo even scolds River like he’s his Dad…’ he thought. “Aw, come on, I— It was kind of hard for me to talk, you know!?” River was saying. “You didn’t have a problem telling me to ‘hurry’!” Hugo didn’t sound angry or irritated, and that made Duncan happy. He certainly didn’t think River should be in any trouble for acting that way when he was close to an accident for the second time in one day. Duncan finished peeing and pulled his pants back up. Unlike River, he DID actually wash his hands after urinating, so it took him a minute before he was back in the hallway. River had gone, but Hugo was still there. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked. Duncan nodded, and followed Hugo back into his bedroom. He felt dread rising up in him, chasing away the last of the relief still lingering after his pee. “What’s wrong?” “Er, you know how we were talking about River, uh, ‘not holding it for long’?” Hugo asked. “Yeah,” Duncan said. “There’s… No way he could have waited all day for me to get home. I’m even surprised YOU did it, I—“ “He couldn’t… Neither of us could,” Duncan said. “I… See,” Hugo said. “Um, just let me know if any part of the floor needs extra cleaning, or what I need to get washed, and—“ “We didn’t have accidents,” Duncan interrupted. “We… We went outside.” Hugo’s eyes widened. “You did?! That’s fantastic!” “Y—Yeah, I think River actually needed to go so much he didn’t totally realize what he was doing… But, it was the only place we could… Do it, so we just went out front and—“ “I’m really proud of you,” Hugo said. “Really. Just yesterday you were both terrified of opening a window, today you’re—“ “I—It was an emergency,” Duncan said. “That was all. River was— He was hurting. I— I really don’t like seeing him in pain, it brings back… Stuff.” Hugo patted him on the head. “I understand. But still, I’m proud. And you both should be proud, too.” *** The next morning, Hugo had an announcement. Since River and Duncan had left the cabin once now, Hugo thought it was time to bring them out somewhere for real. Duncan wasn’t so sure, “W—We only went just RIGHT outside our house because it was an emergency…” he said. “That’s all.” “It would be really good for you both to actually get out,” Hugo said. “We should do it soon, before you lose the nerve you built up after yesterday.” Duncan didn’t know if they’d really built up any ‘nerve’! All they’d actually done was avoid making a really huge puddle on the floor by any means necessary. “Wh—What would we do?” River asked. “I don’t… I would maybe feel safer somewhere…” Where WOULD he feel safer? Nowhere but here, he didn’t think! Outside, someone with ties to the Organization could see him and Duncan, could hurt them, could watch them and then follow them back home, and— An attack would be less likely in a place with lots of witnesses. It would also be hard to keep track of someone if it was really crowded. There was probably a confusing, winding route they could take home, which would make it tricky for anyone to trail after them… “S—Somewhere… Crowded,” River said finally. “Crowded?” Hugo asked. “Really, I thought—“ “W—Witnesses,” River explained. “I—If something… Happens.” Duncan liked the way River was thinking and started to nod. “A—And, I want us to take a really long and confusing drive home,” River added. “What?” “So, if someone tries to follow, they’d lose us!” Duncan said. “Right, River?” “Yes.” “So, that would help you both feel safer?” Hugo asked. “You’re sure?” They each nodded. “Okay…” Hugo said. “I’ll think of a good spot.” *** They decided to go to the mall and see a movie. The mall in town was always crowded since it was one of the few places to go for entertainment, and the movie they’d chosen had just been released and was the latest in a highly popular series. There would be tons of people. Hugo was hopeful he could coax them into looking at some of the stores AFTER the movie, too. But, if they wanted to go straight home, that would be fine. This was still an enormous step towards healing and being friends with the world again. They arrived at the mall, and Duncan felt… Weird. He felt scared, but there was a certain DEEPNESS to this fear. Like, ice was forming inside of his bones, crystalizing and freezing his joints together. He walked very stiffly through the parking lot, and didn’t make it more than five steps before he’d grabbed onto River and just… Held him. His hands coiled around River’s arm, and only got tighter. And River… River had been the ‘leader’ when they’d escaped from the Organization. He’d been first around every corner, first through every door… His brain turned to mush and static, only clear thought managing to squeak through; ‘Protect Duncan.’ Over and over again. Just ‘Protect Duncan.’ River would keep Duncan safe at all times. Even if it meant ignoring all of his own fear and pretending that it didn’t exist. “I—It’s okay, Duncan…” River whispered as they followed closely behind Hugo. “I’m in charge, I can handle anything bad that comes our way.” They entered the mall, and Duncan somehow managed to clutch River even harder. It actually hurt an awful lot… It didn’t help that Duncan was also hanging onto the arm that housed River’s phallo-scar, which STILL got random aches every now and then. “Okay,” Hugo said, at a volume that River thought would announce to everyone exactly where they were, but was probably barely even above a whisper. “The theater is this way… We have time, do you want to go to a store first?” Duncan tried to answer ‘no’, that he just wanted to sit in the dark theater where he thought he’d feel safer. But, that icy cold feeling in his bones was moving up higher, it coated his throat, washed over his tongue, sunk into all his jaw… And all of the sudden, the language Duncan had spoken all his life had left him. He just… He didn’t know what was happening, but he couldn’t move his mouth, couldn’t form any words, couldn’t find his voice… 
So, he just shook his head. “You sure?” Hugo asked. “River…?” “I…” River was able to talk, but his voice came out barely above a whisper. “I don’t think so… Maybe after…” “Well, okay,” Hugo decided not to push it. Not to push THEM. He found himself wishing he’d paid more attention during that one semester of psychology he’d taken decades ago in high school. How was he supposed to know back then that one day he’d be tasked with taking care of two highly traumatized people and trying to help them ease back into something that resembled normalcy? He THOUGHT he was doing the right things, he thought taking them out would, over time, help them get better. But, where was the balance? Too fast, and he’d make them panic, maybe just traumatize them further. Too slow, and they’d continue to cocoon themselves at home, becoming more and more detached from anything that wasn’t themselves, Hugo, or worlds they could only enter in books. He hoped that the speed at which he was trying to move them was correct, but they were both… He’d expected them to be scared, but they were shaking, clinging to each other… Duncan hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten here… Hugo decided to try and get him to speak. Once he’d talked once, Hugo was sure, it would be a lot easier for him to do it again! So, he’d just ask Duncan a question that couldn’t be answered with a simple yes or no. They stopped at the concessions before going to their theater. Hugo asked River and Duncan if they’d like something, and was pleased when they both nodded. “What do you want?” He asked. “You can have anything.” “F…Fruit punch…” River mumbled. Hugo nodded and, knowing how much River loved fruit punch and how much River WOULDN’T want to have to get up during the movie for anything, he got him a large size so that it would last him. “Duncan? How about you?” Duncan still hadn’t released River. He wanted to say that he would like a Cola but, just like before, something inside him wasn’t working. The gears in his jaw seemed to have spontaneously grown rusty, because it refused to unhinge and let him speak… Hugo knit his brows as Duncan remained silent. Finally, Duncan made a noise, but it didn’t make Hugo feel any better. It was a tiny squeak, almost a whimper. So small that his lips barely moved. “Duncan…? Is something—” “D—Duncan likes Cola best,” River informed. “R—Right, Duncan?” Duncan managed a tiny nod, feeling warm that River had remembered which drink was his favorite. Hugo got Duncan his Cola and handed it to him. He nervously led them both into the theater and sat down with them. River was eagerly sucking down his fruit punch, and Duncan was taking hesitant, small sips from his cup. Hugo was concerned. It was almost like Duncan suddenly COULDN’T talk for some reason. But, that didn’t make any sense! Duncan wasn’t sick! He hadn’t even gone outside where he’d be able to catch a cold! Why would he lose his voice? He’d been talking just fine that morning, too! Duncan clutched River’s hand as the previews started. River clutched back. He kept drinking his punch, having a task to focus on was calming him down somewhat. But, he was really anxious. Not just about being outside, but about Duncan… He hadn’t liked how he’d needed to speak FOR him a few minutes ago, and that little creaky sound he’d made… It all caused River to feel uneasy. River paused his drinking for a second. “I am in charge, remember?” He said. “There’s nothing I can’t handle, so just leave everything to me, and try to feel safe.” His spine chilled then, and he didn’t really understand why. 
Duncan squeezed his hand again, and River returned to his beverage. The movie began. River actually really enjoyed it. Even before the Organization, movies in an actual theater had been a rare treat for him. This one was so exciting, too. Lots of action and intrigue and things to keep him focused on things other than how scared he was and how— ‘I NEED TO PISS!’ River’s body screamed at him. Jesus fuck… He suddenly realized he’d merely been chewing on the straw in his cup for the last several minutes, all of the punch already gone and filtering through his body— A whole lot of it already asking if it could please be released now. God, he needed the toilet… He crossed his legs, his bladder cramping inside him. How much time was left in the movie? Could he hold it until— Ah, no. No way could he hold it. Now that he’d noticed it, he was stunned he hadn’t already pissed his pants. He wriggled in his seat. What should he do?! If this had been BEFORE the organization, he’d just stand up, shuffle past Hugo, and use the nearest restroom, because leaving the theater by himself wouldn’t have been terrifying. But, it WAS terrifying now. Duncan jumped when River accidentally kicked him while crossing his legs around the other way. He could tell pretty easily what was bugging his partner, but he didn’t know what to do about it, either. He could tell River to ask Hugo, and then they could all take a pee break together? His lips moved to form River’s name, but no sound came out, and River didn’t notice. River too had realized he could just ASK Hugo to please, please bring him to the toilet before he exploded, but then he thought that standing up and leaving the theater could give someone a chance to get a good look at them. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ River thought, rubbing his ankles together frantically. ‘What are the odds someone with that organization is IN this theater and will turn from the screen just in time to see you— And somehow be able to tell even in the dark that it’s YOU?’ All the rational thoughts in the world couldn’t chase away that one terrified, illogical one though. So, River made himself hold it. He made himself hold it all through the entire last hour of the movie, holding his crotch, bouncing his legs, sitting on his feet and begging his body to hold on. Duncan kept rubbing a thumb over his hand, and River figured Duncan had probably noticed his distress. Hugo noticed it when the lights came on and he had a clearer view of his surroundings. River was doubled over on himself by then, one hand wedged firmly between his thighs as his legs bobbed up and down. Hugo’s first instinct was to joke around, ask River if he’d really liked the movie THAT much since he’d been so determined not to miss a second of it. But most of River’s behavior was based in trauma. Of course he hadn’t gotten up for a pee during the movie, he wouldn’t go off anywhere by himself now. So, instead Hugo whispered “You could have tapped me. Duncan and I would have walked with you to the restroom. Let me know next time, okay?” River just whimpered, he didn’t have the energy to explain why he’d been too scared for that. His body bent so far forward that the top of his head was brushing against the empty seat in front of him. Crap… Had they both lost their voices now? “River, you okay?” “I have to go piss!” River whispered sharply. Okay. Good. He could still talk… “I— I know, come on. We’ll take you.” They exited the theater, doing so rather slowly since River was having a great deal of trouble walking and Duncan wouldn’t stop clinging to him. They walked down the hall, passing the first men’s room since it had a line, and finding another out in the main part of the shopping mall. “H—Here,” Hugo said. “This one will be nice and empty and safe for you,” he encouraged. “Go on.” River scurried in, bladder aching from the anticipation of relief. Once the door had shut behind him and he was now alone in the empty, unfamiliar place, he felt different. The sensation that the world was about to fall apart beneath his feet overtook him and he felt dizzy. The throbbing of his bladder brought him back to reality. In the time before the Organization, he always used a stall. He’d just gotten used to stalls before his phalloplasty and had never thought ‘Oh, right. I can finally use the urinals now.’ River was a bit of a creature of habit, he supposed. But, this time, when he stepped into the stall and pulled the lock into place, his heart instantly started slamming around in his chest and he felt blood rushing in his ears. Something in him was screaming ‘NO LOCKS! TOO TIGHT! TOO DARK!’ So, he quickly left the stall and rushed for the row of urinals instead. Once there, he paused for a second, trying to decide if there was a specific area he was supposed to aim at. His bladder sent him a very sharp plea not to worry about that, so he just took out his dick, hoped he was pointing it at a spot that wouldn’t cause splashback, and prepared for his torment to come to an end. But then, the strangest thing happened. There was no stream. There was no relief. There was just an ever-growing pressure in his abdomen that continued to hurt worse and worse. What. The. Fuck. Why the Hell wasn’t it coming out? First he’d been fighting not to piss his pants and now he couldn’t piss at all? He rubbed a hand over his lower abdomen, and the pain skyrocketed, but he still didn’t actually pee. The silence of the empty restroom penetrated his ear drums. He kept checking back over his shoulder, all of the shadows in the room becoming twisted and frightening. Some of the stall doors weren’t open all the way, he couldn’t see in them. Anything could be in there. He just had to hurry up and pee so he could get out of here! He bounced sharply on his heels a few times, begging his body to please, please just let him piss so that this ordeal could be over with. But, the harder he tried to get his stream started, the more determined his bladder seemed to be to hang onto it. Finally, the silence became more than he could handle. He zipped himself up and, the second he did, his bladder released a protesting squirt into his boxers. With an angry growl, he pulled his dick back out and aimed, and— Nothing. Again. He wanted to break something. But, the only thing it looked like he’d be breaking today was his own bladder, unless he somehow managed to get it to empty. He struggled for several more seconds before he gave up yet again. He tucked his member back away and pulled up his zipper. Again, as soon as his pants were closed, a dribble of liquid warmed his crotch. But, he didn’t bother with getting his cock back out. He was pretty sure he already knew what would happen if he did. He stomped out of the restroom, barely managing to restrain his urge to punch a wall on his way out. He was so frustrated that his steps were harsh and slapped against the ground, sending sick reverberations of need through his bladder. But, he didn’t care. His stupid bladder had been given its chance, it was its own stupid fault that it was still full. Hugo was still standing beside the door, Duncan clinging around his arm. Duncan released Hugo and grabbed River instead now that he was back. “Mmm…?” he made a low, inquisitive noise that River guessed was broken-voice-speak for “Feel better now?” “No,” River said. “I— I don’t know what the fuck just happened in there, but I couldn’t piss and now I just gotta go even worse.” Hugo scratched his chin. He tried to remember if River had used a urinal yet or not… After his phalloplasty, he’d still opted for stalls every time Hugo had seen. “Was someone next to you?” He asked. “Because, that’s normal. Lots of guys get some stage fright if—“ “No. I was the only one in the room,” River interrupted. He’d known what Hugo was getting at, but THAT was not something which applied to him. He’d pissed in plenty of places that weren’t the least bit private back when he was homeless. Another dude being at the urinal next to him would have been NOTHING. “And I can go in front of people. You’ve seen me go before.” That was true. Hugo had just thought that maybe River would feel differently around a stranger. Apparently not. “So, you… Couldn’t go even though you were alone?” River shook his head, miserable. “And I still feel like I’m gonna explode my kidneys! I just— I gotta go home. Now. I think I can go there.” “Are you sure? We still haven’t seen any stores, or gone to din—“ “L—Let’s just order a pizza once we’re back home?” River suggested. “Please? It really hurts…I need— I need to go home!” Hugo couldn’t say no now that River had admitted he was in pain. But, he was still perplexed by this turn of events. It would be one thing if River froze up because someone was next to him, but this didn’t make any sense to him at all. Hugo led River and Duncan back to the car. They got into the backseat and he started to drive them in the direction of the forest. “Do you still want me to take the zig-zaggy, long way home?” He asked. The confusing route would be safest, in case someone had spotted them. But, it would take a while and River just had to go so, so bad… He chose safety over his need for relief. “Yes.” “Okay,” Hugo said. “If… If you need me to pull over along the way…” River shook his head. He was certain that if Hugo pulled over, he’d have the same problem again. He just needed to be home… Duncan was still clutching his arm, and River turned to him. “Long way okay with you?” He asked. Duncan just nodded, no sound left his mouth. He was still utterly silent. Hugo drove, a pit forming in his stomach. True, this was only their first trip out, but it had gone just terribly. One of them forgot how to speak, and the other suddenly couldn’t use the bathroom for some reason, in spite of what was obviously a SEVERE need to do so. He hoped the next outing went better. If he could convince them to GO on a second, anyway. River gnashed his teeth together as the car bounced along. He still wasn’t used to the feeling of being in a moving vehicle again, having to endure that with a full bladder increased the discomfort tenfold. He squeezed his thighs together and bounced his knees. Duncan inched closer to him. “Mmm… Sor…ry…” he managed to force out. 
“I—It’s not your fault,” River assured him, just happy he’d actually said something. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.” He crossed his legs. “I just— I gotta hold it, I guess. I’ll be able to have a piss once we’re back home.” Hugo was driving slightly above the speed limit. He would not allow River to wet his pants on his watch. He was going to make damn sure the guy made it. When he glanced back at them in the rearview mirror, he saw River had graduated to holding himself again— Both hands, too. This was bad. River leaned backwards in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel every crack in the road, and each one stabbed his bladder without remorse. ‘Why the Hell couldn’t I go at the mall?!’ He kept wondering. Maybe he’d spent so much time inside lately that he’d developed a shy bladder in spite of not having one before? ‘Bullshit. I’ve pissed in fucking bushes with people babbling a few feet away, I don’t get pee-shy. Especially when there’s no god damned people around.’ Wait. It was the silence in the restroom that had freaked him out, right? The silence, the solitude inside an unfamiliar room where threatening people could very easily hide… Did he just get… ‘Stage fright’, as Hugo had called it, because people WEREN’T around to look at him while he took a piss? Well, then stage fright was probably the wrong term, but he thought he DID have an idea of what his issue was now. When he thought more about it, the idea of urinating in a packed restroom where people would be sure to see if someone jumped out of a stall and did something to him sounded… Maybe not exactly pleasant, but better than the empty, silent room he’d been in earlier. If this theory was correct, then River hadn’t spontaneously become pee-shy. He was… Whatever the opposite of pee-shy was. He could only go if someone WAS looking. So, maybe he would have had better luck using the FIRST bathroom they’d passed, the one with all of the people crowded inside it. Well. A fat load of good figuring all of that out did for him NOW. He was still just going to have to hold it all the way home! He coiled his legs together when they went over a speed bump. He felt like his bladder was being juggled around in the air or something. He looked out the window, but felt like an idiot a moment later. Of course, he couldn’t gauge how close they were to the cabin because he wouldn’t recognize any of the things they were passing. Which left him with one other option to find out how much longer he had to contain himself; Asking ‘are we there yet?’ over and over like a bored child on a road trip. He didn’t want to do that, it would be so humiliating, and he held off as long as he could. But, eventually the pressure was so bad that he just blurted it out; “Hugo, how much further?” “It’s going to be about half an hour,” Hugo replied. “Can you do that, River?” And Hugo’s voice was so paternal, so utterly caring and comforting, that River felt… Well, he wasn’t sure what he felt. His chest and face felt warm, like they did when he was embarrassed. But, it wasn’t a ‘burning’ kind of heat, it was more like being wrapped up in a cozy blanket… “O—Okay,” River said, shifting his position again. “I can make it…” Duncan squeezed his arm again. “River… Okay?” He croaked. “Y—Yeah,” River said. He was still deeply concerned by how Duncan was acting, too. The way he was talking or, rather, NOT talking was unsettling. “Good…” Duncan sighed. River jiggled his legs. He wasn’t okay. Not really. He felt like he was about to go, right where he was. He was going to piss all over the seat. That thought gripped him with its icy tendrils, shudders ripping up his spine. “H—Hugo?!” River whimpered desperately. “When are we going to be home?” When he didn’t receive an answer within an eighth of femtosecond, he added “Hugo. Hugo, soon, right? Soon?” His bladder cramped so painfully, and a burst of heat soaked his boxers. “Ahhh—!” Hugo tensely gripped the steering wheel. It had been less than five minutes since River had last asked that. “St—Still about half an hour,” he told him. “I’m sorry.” River doubled over, bucking his hips against his clenched hands.He sucked his stomach in tight. He felt like it had already BEEN half an hour! He felt like it had been half a day! He couldn’t make it! He’d waited so long already, through the drive TO the mall, through the movie, through the anxiety-induced lock-up in the restroom… It had already been more than his small bladder could handle! He felt a long, slow dribble seep out of him, and he bit his lip to keep from cursing. “Hold on, River…” Hugo encouraged gently. “I know, it’s an emergency… I’m getting you home.” Duncan patted River’s rapidly bouncing knee. He wanted to tell River that he’d make it. He wanted to tell River that it would be okay if he had an accident. He wanted to tell River… Anything to make it better! But, while he could get his mouth to move enough to form those words, his vocal cords wouldn’t put in the effort to drag them out. River leaned into him, coiling up. He pulled his foot into the seat with him, dug it hard into his shimmering crotch, and Duncan saw now that his boyfriend had already had a little spill… He realized with a heavy heart that River probably WOULDN’T make it home in time. Another bump in the road was River’s undoing, the next stream that pulsed out of him was violent in its intensity and he couldn’t stop it, he could only restrain it to dribbles. “Bottle!” River cried. “Huh?” Hugo asked. “B—Bottle!” River repeated, lip catching between his teeth. “Please! Please— Tell me there’s a bottle in here! I can’t—“ a loud hiss filled the air and interrupted him. “I can’t hold it! I need to go piss NOW.” Hugo had heard River’s last leak, it had been so forceful that it was impossible NOT to hear it. He hoped the seat underneath River wasn’t too wet. He didn’t care about the seat itself, he was just worried what it would do to River’s self-esteem if he drenched it. Hugo opened the glove compartment. River anxiously waited, so hopeful. The pressure was increasing again, he’d let out a TON during his last loss of control, and now the rest of his bladder wanted out worse than ever. And from the way his sphincters were trembling, he was certain he was going to burst any second now. By the time Hugo had found a bottle, River was gasping, grunting, and holding himself so firmly that it was hurting him. It was tiny, about half the size of a normal water bottle, but River panted out his thanks as he pulled his dribbling cock free from his damp boxers. He shook as he readied himself at the bottle’s opening. “Ahhh— Hurrryyyy…” River moaned, undoing his seat-belt and scooting forwards. He made quick work of his zipper, the sound of it releasing made his spurting flow restart as Hugo handed him the bottle. Instantly, his bladder cracked open and he was voiding uncontrollably into the little container. River let out a wail of immense relief, flopping forwards and allowing his sweaty forehead to rest against the back of Hugo’s seat. It didn’t take long for River to become aware of a new problem; The bottle was too small. The heavy stone of his bladder had only just barely loosened up, allowing River a sample of his relief, and then he noticed the bottle was almost completely full. He didn’t know if he could stop! It just— It felt so good to pee, he didn’t want to stop! He wanted to go and go and go forever! Piss was ejecting from him at full-force, his muscles exhausted from being pulled taut for so long. But, the bottle was nearly overflowing! River whimpered and clenched his holding muscles, pain erupting from his middle as he tried to cut his stream short. His release slowed to a leaky spurting, but he couldn’t stop. “Hugo—!“ River gasped. “Where’s— Is there another bottle? This one’s almost full and I’m not finished!” He was trying as hard as he could to quit going, but his bladder wouldn’t listen, sending more and more dribbles out. “I’m sorry,” Hugo said. “That was the only one I could find. I promise we’re almost there… Try to hold on to the rest until then, alright?” River whimpered— He could feel there was still SO MUCH left in him! “You’ve let out a lot of it,” Hugo told him. “That’s enough to give you a little more time.” He just hoped the reassurance would encourage River to make it. It seemed to work, as River managed to stop any more pee from coming out for long enough to put the cap back on the bottle and stuff his member back into his pants. He winced at the sodden feeling of the material, it was an awful tease, trying to coax him into just giving up and finishing in his pants. But, he was able to restrain that urge. He wasn’t able to force himself to pull up his zipper or put his seat-belt back on. “Five more minutes,” Hugo promised. “You can make it.” River was grateful they were so close, but that came with a price. Because, once they’d pulled on to the winding, dirt road that led through the woods and towards their cabin, the ride became painfully bumpy. His bladder responded to each shake of the car by spasming harshly, and his muscles were so frayed from the constant tension that he wasn’t able to stop the warm drips from continually spilling into his clammy boxers. ‘No, please!’ He begged himself. ‘We’re so fucking close! I have to make it now!’ He shook with pain, groaning loudly when the car went into a dip in the road and prompted another loud splash of pee. Duncan had heard River’s last loss of control and scooted himself closer to him. He stroked River’s arm. “It’s… Okay…” he told him. It was getting easier to speak the closer they got to the cabin. “River… It will only be a few more minutes…” River relaxed a little at the sound of Duncan’s voice speaking in complete sentences. “I have to piss. God, Duncan, I have to go so fucking bad…” he gritted. “I know…” Duncan said, kissing his cheek. “Almost there. You can do it.” The cabin was in sight, finally. River was jiggling like crazy in his seat. He could go soon, he could go very, very soon! Just— Just a few more seconds, please hang on… He shifted, one hand digging between his thighs, the other wound tightly around the door handle, waiting for the car to stop so that he could at last finish his pee. River jerked the door open and gently stepped out, his legs were jelly and he wobbled, whined, leaned against the car with both of his hands wedged firmly between his knotted legs. His bladder was boiling, burning away within him as he fought to drag himself to the door. Once there, a hot stream trickled down the side of his left leg. It felt like his bladder must have been the heaviest thing in the entire universe. The stream built into a miniature torrent, quickly re-soaking his drying pants. “Ahhh—!” He moaned, shifting frantically from foot to foot. Hugo had run to the door and thrusted the key into the lock, he twisted it and threw the door open for River, who could now only stare inside as he felt the threatening tremble that told him he’d well and truly explode if he tried to take another step. ‘No, no, no! Fuck!’ He’d fought so hard to make it, and now he was gonna completely pee his pants just as soon as he’d gotten home! Duncan crept out from behind Hugo, his eyes widening as he figured out what was happening to River— He couldn’t move! “C—Come on, walk with me,” Duncan said, and River sagged against him as Duncan helped him take tiny, half-steps into the cabin. “Almost there, baby…” he said. “Hang on.” River whimpered the whole way, he was humiliated, but beneath the humiliation there was something a lot more pleasant. Again, his chest was warm, something inside of him going light and happy as he allowed another person to take so much control over him, to manage him and tend to his very pressing need. The gentle, caring tone Duncan was using only intensified those feelings. “Duncan, it hurts…” “It’s okay,” Duncan turned and opened the door to the restroom. “You made it, you’re here. Can you take the last few steps by yourself?” River was shaking his head rapidly, he hadn’t stopped dripping little drops since he’d gotten inside, without someone to lean on he’d be forced to feel the full weight of his bladder again. He couldn’t… Duncan brought him right in front of the toilet, and River allowed the other to move him there. It was… It was nice to have someone else do things for him, to be taken care of… But, the sight of the toilet was just too much, an atrocious spasm gripped hold of his ailing bladder and a rush of pee burst out of him that was unlike any of his previous leaks. He screwed his eyes shut. His mouth dropped open in an unspoken wail of protest, but his bladder was incapable of following directions anymore. He was peeing for all he was worth. Duncan reached into the still open flaps of River’s pants and pulled his damp, spraying member out, aiming the gushing torrent into the toilet for him. “There…” he whispered. “There you go…” River’s eyes popped back open when he felt the hand touching his dick, and heard the sound of fluid against water. Duncan was… Doing EVERYTHING for him now. He’d taken his dick out, he’d aimed it, he was still aiming it. River didn’t have to do a thing, apart from just allow his body to continue doing what it NEEDED. When he realized that, the relief truly hit him. He could just go now. He could let it all out. No more fighting. No more work. Just the pure bliss of emptying his bladder after such a prolonged period of restraint. “Ahhhhhhh….” “Th—That feeling a little better?” Duncan asked. He felt extremely awkward doing this. He was surprised at himself that he was doing it at all. He just wasn’t going to let River have an accident when the toilet was literally right in front of him. “Fuck…” River breathed. Duncan decided that probably meant ‘Yes, Duncan. I feel loads better now. Thank you so much for helping me go pee,’ and he continued to hold River’s member as it sprayed out its waterfall. And that was when it hit him. This was… This was the VERY FIRST time he’d ever touched River’s penis. Apart from occasionally feeling up River’s crotch through his clothes, Duncan hadn’t touched his dick until now. Of course, he’d been wanting to do that for a while, this just wasn’t how he’d ever imagined it would happen. He’d imagined it happening at night, they would have been fooling around above their clothes like they often did, and then River would say he finally felt ready to do that without any fabric in the way. His cheeks grew warmer, because every time Duncan had fantasized about that, it had ended with him making River moan in the EXACT same way he was doing it now. So, part of his imaginary scenario actually HAD come true? He sure was making River moan up a storm now… As some of the haze of his desperation faded, River was coming to a similar realization. This was the first time Duncan had ever touched his penis— The first time ANYBODY had ever touched it, apart from himself… And, technically, the surgeons, but he didn’t know if that could really be counted. It felt strange to have another person’s hand on his dick. He’d had other people touch his… old parts, before he’d gotten them fixed, but every time that had happened, it either hurt, or he’d sort of switched his brain off, made himself NOT feel it. This time, he wasn’t switching off, he was feeling everything about this moment. Duncan’s hand was warm and gentle, River’s bladder shrinking and deflating, and all of that felt so amazing… Finally, the last of his pee had splashed out of him, and he leaned back against Duncan with another moan. He felt utterly exhausted. Today had been so tiring, over-stimulating. Going out in public for the first time in months, watching a loud action movie, worrying about Duncan, holding his pee until he’d started to break… He barely had the presence of mind to tuck his dick back into his pants. They were cold and clammy now, and he realized he’d probably leaked badly enough that he needed to get changed. He’d do that in a minute, once he’d remembered how to walk again… Duncan rubbed River’s chest. “Okay now?” He asked. River nodded. “I have to change…” he admitted. “D—Don’t feel bad,”” Duncan said. “You… Held most of it. Sorry that I just… Grabbed your thing like that. I should have asked first. I wasn’t thinking.” “It’s okay,” River said. “I think I… I needed help.” The words sounded strange on his tongue, foreign. He’d taken care of himself since he was sixteen. Yet, today he’d needed a great deal of assistance with something as simple as using the toilet. That should have been shameful, right? So, then why did he feel so happy that he’d given up his control to someone else?
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