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secretomoact

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    secretomoact got a reaction from desperatemusin in Killer Omorashi   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "I Told You So".
    ***
    Jesse could think of dozens of places he would rather be right now. The bowels of Hell, the WRONG side of his ‘operating table’, a lion’s den… Physical pain was one thing, but prolonged annoyance was quite another.
    Why Julian had decided to drag him to this stupid carnival was BEYOND him. Julian KNEW he hated things like this; Things with lots of people, and noise, and people, and disgusting food, and people… Yet, Julian had insisted that they visit this place anyway. Julian insisted it would be fun. So far, it hadn’t been.
    It was hot enough to melt the ever-present chill in Jesse’s body, and he was coming to realize that he hated being overheated even more than he hated being cold. It was so loud, people chattering and screaming— And not even the GOOD kind of screaming, either. No, instead it was the kind of nonsensical screaming idiots performed when they wanted to make themselves the center of attention for the entertainment of their equally moronic friends.
    Jesse was also starving. There were items here that were allegedly edible, but Jesse thought that was probably a lie. None of it resembled food that was of this Earth, and Jesse was sure that one bite would shave years off his remaining life-span. Not one word in the phrase ‘deep-friend butter on a stick’ was the least bit appetizing. When Julian decided to procure this item, the sight of it was nauseating.
    “Don’t they serve any food here?” Jesse asked eventually.
    “Yeah,” Julian said. “Of course they do, I’ve been eating all day.”
    “You have been consuming copious amounts of garbage, yes,” Jesse said. “However, I would prefer something edible.”
    Julian shrugged, “I think it’s tasty,” he said. “Come on, aren’t you having ANY fun?”
    “Yeah,” Jesse said. “The people here really remind me of why the work I do is so important.”
    “Jesse…” Julian sighed. “We’re taking the day off. You should enjoy it. Let’s play some games.”
    Jesse rolled his eyes. Julian had already wasted close to a hundred dollars trying, and failing, to win a cheap plush tiger by way of hurling tennis balls at stacks of glass bottles which Jesse was PRETTY sure had been superglued together. “You do realize we need money for important things, don’t you? Like sustenance.”
    “Having fun’s important,” Julian said. “I dunno what a sustenance is, but I’m sure we have enough of those at home.”
    “Which reminds me, perhaps we should go there,” Jesse suggested. His stomach growled loudly.
    “At least DRINK something,” Julian said. “So that you’re not totally empty.” 

“Fine…” Jesse said. He doubted that the drinks could be anywhere near as revolting as the ‘food’. At the least, he knew it would be difficult for them to turn plain water into anything disgusting.
    He was wrong. The demons working this place had somehow devised a way to deep-fry water into some grotesque little round nuggets. The biggest mystery was not HOW they had done it, but WHY.
    Julian got him a cup of lemonade, which Jesse sampled and found satisfactory. It was just normal lemonade, no special ‘additions’ designed to send people to an early grave… Come to think of it, maybe Jesse should get some of the recipes used here, even if he had no intention of ever eating any of them.
    The lemonade tasted good, and it made Jesse feel better to have SOMETHING inside his stomach, so he kept drinking it, and even re-filled the cup a few times before Julian finally decided that he’d had enough and was ready to leave.
    “It is about time,” Jesse said. “How you have managed to stay entertained for this long is beyond me.”
    They headed towards the exit. Just beside it, they passed by a row of portable toilets “Wait, hang on,” Julian said. “I should pee before we leave.” Eyeing the once-more empty cup in Jesse’s hands, he added “You should too. Those cups are big, and you re-filled it, like, four times.”
    Jesse felt no need to relieve himself, especially if doing so would require him to use a portable toilet. He’d been disgusted enough for one day, he didn’t need first-hand knowledge of the havoc the revolting carnival food wreaked on a person’s digestive tract. He was aware that it would take them a while to get home, but his bladder felt perfectly fine. Even when he rubbed a hand over his lower belly to make sure, he didn’t feel much there. Maybe a small throb, but nothing to be concerned by.
    “That is quite unnecessary, Julian,” Jesse said.
    Julian gave him a skeptical look, “You always say that,” he pointed out. “Are you sure?”
    “I am sure,” Jesse sighed. “Now, make haste. I want to get home.”
    Jesse waited off to the side as Julian went to relieve himself. His stomach growled again. He was so hungry that he doubted he’d be able to feel anything else. No matter how full his bladder got, his desire for food would continue to outweigh it, to block it out. He saw no reason to worry about making it home in time. He was more likely to pass out from starvation than he was to wet his pants.
    When Julian returned several minutes later, Jesse grumbled at him to hurry up once again. He was beyond done with this place. He needed food, his bed, and something to deal with the enormous headache he was now enduring.
    Unfortunately, his wait was far from over. This asinine carnival wasn’t close to their house. They’d have to reach the bus stop, endure a couple hours on board it, then walk the last couple blocks home. Hopefully Jesse could endure that without his head exploding from the ungodly pulses firing through it.
    He felt a little better once they’d left the carnival and all its noises behind. His throbbing headache faded slightly, at the exact moment something ELSE started to throb instead.
    Why…
    He’d felt absolutely ZERO need for the facilities a few minutes ago, and now his bladder was searing. Why did this always happen? Why couldn’t it give him a little bit of WARNING, like other people’s bladders seemed to do for them?! He had to go really badly all of the sudden!
    They passed a few stores along the way to the bus stop, stores which Jesse knew would have restrooms. His bladder tried to persuade him to stop at each one, urging him NOT to try holding it all the way home, when his need was already so pressing.
    However, urinating now would give Julian the opportunity to say “I told you so.” Julian didn’t GET to say that to Jesse very often, and he relished every chance he had, taking so much delight in it that he’d continue to bring it up weeks after the fact. “Jesse, remember that one time that I was right, and you were wrong?”
    Jesse supposed that, since it was so RARE for Julian to be correct about anything, it only made sense for him to be proud of the rare occasions that he actually was. But, Jesse didn’t want to grant him that joy.
    Luckily, it was very easy for Jesse to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t necessitate him admitting that his vexatious bladder had decided to sneak up on him again. “Alright,” he said. “Seeing as we are passing by facilities that aren’t quite so heinously ghastly, I suppose I WILL relieve myself before we head home.”
    Julian gave him an odd look, “But, you can’t,” he said.
    “You intend to stop me?” Jesse quirked a brow. “The bus comes every twenty minutes, if you recall. We won’t be stranded.”
    “It’s not that,” Julian shrugged. “It’s just, you know, the stores aren’t open today ‘cause of the carnival.”
    Jesse finally noticed that the lights were off inside the buildings they were walking by. Feeling his face heating, he scoffed, “I— I knew that! I was planning to pick the lock.”
    “Just to pee?” Julian asked. “If you gotta go THAT bad, we should just go back, and you can—“
    “I don’t need to go THAT bad,” Jesse insisted. “I can wait until we arrive at home.”
    Julian eyed him up and down, and Jesse paid careful attention to the way he was standing. Apart from his legs being pressed together a little too closely, he didn’t think he looked desperate.
    “Alright…” Julian said. “If you’re sure.”
    They reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench together. Jesse’s foot was inclined to start bouncing immediately. He squeezed a hand around his knee to keep himself still. His bladder was surging, pressure radiating around the base of his cock. How much lemonade had he consumed? The cup had been humongous, he’d re-filled it so many times. He knew more of it would be arriving in his bladder soon, stretching it out further.
    He tensed his thighs, squeezing and relaxing his muscles rhythmically. Such a subtle motion was unlikely to be noticed by his companion, but the pressure nipping at his tip was making him desire to move around much more.
    Just as Jesse was starting to think that a nearby bush could use a good watering, more people started to gather at the bus stop, nixing that option completely. He pictured himself getting booked for public urination, and the arresting officers discovering his more serious crimes once he was on their radar. He intended to go down in history as one of the most brutal serial killers to ever live, for his torture methods to strike fear into all who learned of them for generations to come. The last thing he wanted was to forever be known as the serial killer that was only caught thanks to a desperate need to micturate.
    He could hold it.
    The bus arrived and Jesse stood, his bladder protesting the motion with a few hearty throbs that forced his thighs to grind together. ‘Restraint,’ Jesse told himself. Julian was not allowed to discover how much he needed to go.
    Once they were both on board, Julian turned to Jesse and asked “Didn’t you have at least a LITTLE fun today?”
    Jesse sighed, “That one man we saw getting off the Tilt-a-Whirl regurgitated his stomach’s contents for one hundred and thirty two consecutive seconds before getting back in line to ride again,” he said. “I suppose that was mildly fascinating.”
    Julian frowned, “That’s the only part you liked?”
    “I did not say I enjoyed it,” Jesse corrected. “If anything, it left me feeling quite perplexed. Why would a person CHOOSE to board such a ride after consuming so many grotesque ‘food’ items? Do they find merriment in making themselves ill?”
    “I dunno man,” Julian said. “That ride was so cool, though! It went so fast, I couldn’t tell which way was up by the time it was over! Almost barfed all over myself, too, it was awesome! You should have tried it!”
    Jesse sighed. As the bus lurched forwards, his bladder lurched along with it, dragging his attention back towards an issue that was far more pressing than Julian’s immense idiocy. They were seated towards the back of the bus, which ensured Jesse felt each bump in the road very clearly. The liquid inside of him was getting shaken up like a soda can, splashing from side to side within his bladder and burning its aching, stretched walls.
    He tensed his legs up again, trying to pinch his opening shut in between his straining thighs. His hands rested madly atop his knees, gripping them tightly to prevent them from bouncing. He recalled how long the ride OUT here had lasted, and anticipated that this journey would feel as though it were twice the length.
    The bus was going to make several stops along the route, of course. Many of those stops would be near places with public toilets. Jesse supposed if his need got too extreme, he could always go during a stop rather than waiting all the way home.
    He pictured himself springing up and sprinting off the bus, muttering an order for Julian to follow. “Certain pressing matters cannot be put off any longer, Julian, a break is required immediately.” Julian would follow him obediently, but he’d also laugh and say “I told you so!”
    Jesse would rather hold it until his teeth began to float…
    So, when the bus made its first stop, Jesse did not rise to his feet. Instead, he shut his eyes against the opened doorway, and let his ankles rub subtly together. It did nothing to quell the rising tide of his bladder. And, his brain— usually his most faithful asset— was betraying him as well. With his eyes closed, he kept envisioning himself in front of a urinal, voiding himself dry. The image was fretfully tantalizing, and it looked so real in his mind’s eye. Like, he actually WAS in a bathroom, his zip apart, letting it flow.
    He snapped out of it when the bus started to move again, and shamefully flexed his thigh muscles to check for any dampness around his crotch. He was dry, thankfully. The fantasy hadn’t gotten THAT intense.
    They hit another speed-bump, sending Jesse’s bladder careening upwards, until he could almost feel the pressure in the back of his throat. He anxiously crossed one leg over the other, praying that it looked casual, and not like he was trying to ward off a leak that was building up just behind his opening.
    His attempts to quell the spurt failed, and a warm dribble started to bead into his boxers. He felt his tip growing hot and slick as the liquid spilled out over it. He tightened his legs and managed to staunch the dismal flow, but now the wet spot in his boxers acted as a cruel tease on his bladder— Reminding it that it had been slowly emptying just a second ago, and wouldn’t it feel nice to do that again?
    Jesse adjusted his position again once he felt like he’d gotten back enough control to be able to move. His legs were wrapped around one another, thighs rubbing and hands gripping the edge of his seat.
    Julian was watching him, “Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t go on the Tilt-a-Whirl,” he decided. “You’re looking kinda sick just from the bus… You wanna get out for some fresh air next time we stop? I don’t mind if it takes longer to get home.”
    Jesse glowered, but after a moment of consideration, realized Julian was being genuine. He really DID just think Jesse was car-sick. The fool was much too stupid to be subtle, so if he HAD realized that Jesse was eager for a toilet break, he would have loudly said something like; “Jesse, you gotta pee real bad, don’t you? You look like you’re gonna wet your pants any second now! Try your best to hold it until the next stop!”
    Jesse shrugged in response to Julian’s offer. He did very much want to get off the bus at the next stop, but fresh air was the furthest thing from his mind. Once they got off, and Jesse mentioned that he actually just really needed the bathroom, Julian would be able to use that most dreaded phrase “I told you so.”
    “I am fine, Julian,” Jesse said. “I will feel better once we reach home and I am able to eat.” His hunger had been taking a backseat to his bladder for ages now, but the emptiness in his stomach was still difficult to ignore. He wished some of the liquid in his bladder could be moved THERE. His stomach had PLENTY of room.
    Ugh, his brain was broken… The lack of food was making him stupid, and the need to empty himself was just exacerbating it, speeding up his loss of brain-cells. If he didn’t urinate soon, he was probably going to turn into Julian.
    The bus stopped again, and Jesse stayed where he was. His bladder was currently cramping in the throes of a major spasm, so he couldn’t have gotten up if he wanted to. His hands were resting atop his thighs now, inching closer and closer to his crotch. He knew how good a nice, long squeeze would feel, how satisfying it would be to start preventing his flood by manual means. The small ring of muscle blocking off his bladder was seriously trembling, pleading for some reinforcement.
    He cringed and palmed his dick for a second when the bus resumed its path down the street. He glanced surreptitiously at Julian to make sure he hadn’t been watching, then tried to adjust his pants a little, attempting to get his waist-band to stop cutting into his bladder so relentlessly.
    The next stop would be theirs, Jesse’s torment would be near its end soon.
    Unfortunately, now that he was able to look out the window and see familiar sights, count off the number of blocks that were remaining, the needful surges beneath his fly were worsening at a rapid pace. And, his ability to conceal his desperation was deteriorating. That first, half-second grab at himself hadn’t been enough. He wanted— No, NEEDED— to wrap his member up in a real, firm grip. His hands just kept fluttering around his midsection, palms clammy with the desire to make contact.
    He told himself he could wait, that it wouldn’t be much longer now. But, his body protested. There was just so much in him. If the pressure kept rising like it had been doing since the start of the ride, he would eventually be using his pants as a urinal. His hands finally made contact, but not with his crotch. He’d instead rested them tentatively over his lower stomach, dismayed by how hard and firm it felt. His skin was pulled taut with his massive need to pee. It was like an over-ripe melon that was about to burst open.
    The weight of his hands against his bladder was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was like his bladder was caught in a vice. He uncrossed his legs and crossed them again in the other direction. He felt raw and vulnerable and so needy. He felt like he was being split apart. Finally, he felt a warm spot forming in his boxers, and he felt it growing steadily as he peed. He wasn’t just dribbling or leaking, he was peeing, he was letting go a thick, consistent stream, and for a second it was such a relief to be going at all that he almost didn’t react.
    When he fully registered what was happening, he responded by bending over so far that his forehead brushed the edge of the seat between his knees, squeezing himself roughly with both hands. The flow was stemmed, but now his bladder was trapped in the throes of some tremendously awful spasms, and his opening felt like it had been lit on fire then rubbed in pepper flakes. He wanted to keep peeing, he wanted to continue relieving himself, he just wanted to go…
    The shock of nearly losing it like that had made him temporarily forget about Julian. He remembered his companion when the idiot chose to speak, though. “Jesse, you really ARE car-sick, huh?”
    Jesse was breathing heavily, every inhale a choppy gasp. He was glad he was folded over so much, Julian couldn’t see where his hands were. Julian couldn’t say ‘I told you so’. Julian couldn’t— Ah!— Jesse suddenly felt something warm and heavy moving up and down his trembling spine. It startled him enough for another squirt of pee to burst out, but once he got used to the sensation, he relaxed slightly, but only for a second.
    Julian was touching him. Julian was touching him without being instructed to do so first. Furthermore, the WAY he was touching him felt far more intimate than anything Jesse was used to. Sure, sometimes they woke up pressed together since they shared a bed, but that was different, that happened accidentally while they were both asleep. This was deliberate, and Jesse wasn’t supposed to like it.
    But, it was soothing him, it was calming the raging tide inside his bladder, it was making him feel more like he could actually hold it until he got home. That was probably just because the touch of another person was keeping him grounded, forcing him to stay in the moment and be aware of his surroundings, so that he didn’t lose himself to the world of desperation again. That was all it was.
    “We’ll be home soon,” Julian said. “It’s okay.”
    Jesse hoped so. His member now felt chafed from rubbing against his damp clothes. He wanted the toilet, a shower, some food, and some rest. He just wanted to go home, and then he’d never let Julian drag him out like this again.
    Julian kept rubbing his back, all along the little knots of tension in his spine. He kept that up until the bus finally stopped again and they were able to get off. “Alright,” Julian encouraged. “We’re here, almost home. You’ll feel better once we start walking.”
    Oh. Right… They still had to walk the last couple streets home. Jesse knew that he was NOT going to feel better once they’d started walking. He was going to feel a whole lot worse. Not only was he going to have to carefully plan each of his steps to avoid upsetting the precarious balance of his bladder, he was also going to have to ACT like he didn’t have to go. The huddled position he was in now allowed him to grab his crotch and squeeze it for dear life without Julian noticing. That wasn’t going to work once they were outside. If he held himself, Julian would see. Julian would know.
    Jesse slowly and carefully got to his feet, hopeful that any swaying or jiggling would look more like he was still recovering from his ‘car-sickness’. Julian didn’t say anything, so he assumed it did. As he wobbled off of the bus, he no longer felt the liquid inside of him was sloshing. His bladder was likely too full for that to happen now, there was not even the smallest bit of empty space left in it now, his urine didn’t have the ROOM to slosh.
    Once outside the bus, Jesse tried to walk normally. That lasted for about three seconds before his crammed to the brim bladder pulsed SO hard that he was sent doubling over, mashing his hands back against his groin. “Mmmff…” he moaned, stomping his feet against the sidewalk.
    Julian watched. Of course he watched. Jesse couldn’t expect the moron to look away, to realize that Jesse might not appreciate being STARED at right now. “Do you have to use the bathroom really bad?”
    Jesse rolled his eyes. Why was that even a question?! There were very few reasons he’d be clasping himself like this… Jesse couldn’t think of any other purpose his furious grasping could have— Yes, he had to use the bathroom really bad! He needed to go so much that he couldn’t breathe, and the liquid that was seeping slowly into his boxers did so little to lessen his urge that he was barely noticing it!
    “I guess that’s why you were acting so funny…” Julian said.
    Jesse began to walk again, still clutching himself and commanding his body to hang on until he got home. Home was just ten minutes away, but those minutes needed to move faster. He just had to get home. He was grinding against his clenched palms for all he was worth in an effort to keep his bladder plugged closed. And, Julian’s asinine comments weren’t helping. The moron could not possibly get more irksome…
    “I told you so,” Julian remarked. “I told you, you should have gone before we left.”
    Jesse grimaced. Julian wasn’t helping. Neither was the cool evening air that was rushing against him as he stumbled awkwardly down the sidewalk. It was awful. He needed to release his urine. It had to come out so badly. His stomach ached. He wasn’t sure if that was thanks to his tearing-apart bladder or the day’s starvation. “Silence…” he growled.
    “I’m just saying…” Julian shrugged. “You must have needed to go back there, you should have just done it.”
    “I had no urge…” Jesse insisted. And, he hadn’t! It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t his bladder EVER give him a warning? He legitimately just hadn’t needed to go back at the carnival, but he sure did NOW. If he waited much longer, he wondered if he might faint from the intense pain. Some of his test subjects in the basement had done that before, and THIS agony currently tearing through him must have been approaching that level by now.
    Finally, they arrived home. Jesse rushed up to the door and squirmed impatiently while he waited for Julian to unlock it. Why had he trusted that moron with the keys? If he’d managed to lose them today—
    Julian hadn’t lost them, he pulled them from his pocket and shoved the house-key into the lock. He twisted it around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, only to be met with the same results.
    Jesse danced from foot to foot. He was certain that his desperation was far worse than any person was ever meant to feel, “Julian!” He exclaimed. “Open the door at once! I— I can’t withstand the pressure much longer!”
    “It won’t open!” Julian whined. “I’m trying!” He jiggled the doorknob again, and when the door STILL failed to open, Jesse had had enough.
    “V—Very well, then!” Jesse snapped. Julian watched as his companion’s hands moved up to unfasten his zipper, he shuffled behind the overgrown bushes lining the front of the house, pulling his pants down and crouching behind them.
    Jesse didn’t think he could be seen in this position, if he squatted, he was completely hidden by the bushes. No one on the street or the sidewalk would spot him. And, if anyone did, he intended to bark at them that this was HIS yard and he could water it however he pleased.
    Julian COULD see him, though. From his vantage point on the porch, he could see back behind the bushes fairly clearly. Jesse was aware of that and shut his eyes, trying to ignore him as he released. A small trickle pattered out into the dirt. Jesse’s bladder was so full that it took him a second to even realize that it had begun to empty. He whimpered softly and pushed down, finally peeing a strong stream.
    The ocean being ejected into the dirt hissed and splattered violently. It took a bit before the spray even made a dent in his bladder, and he remained stuck in a confusing mixture of desperation and relief until something in him seemed to snap and start deflating. Then, he moaned in total relief. “Ohhhh….”
    Julian felt really funny watching Jesse in that moment. It was something to do with the noises he was making, the fact he was bottomless, and the exact position he was in. Crouching like that, legs spread and giving such a clear view of his dick, panting and gasping so loudly… It was kind of animalistic in a way, primitive. Very much unlike how Jesse typically behaved. His appearance now was completely contrary to his obsession with being viewed as more intelligent and superior to everyone.
    It was interesting to see Jesse give in to such a human need like this…
    Jesse eventually emptied out enough that, while he was still peeing ferociously, he was no longer completely dazed by his relief. He was more aware of what he was doing, and of how exposed he was. He saw Julian staring directly at his most private area and scowled. He’d been nude around Julian before, but this time Julian was more fixated on his body parts than he usually was.
    When he had finally rid himself of every last drop, he stood and pulled his pants back up over his hips, concealing his groin with his hand as he did so, not that it particularly mattered anymore. He came back out from behind the bushes, “I guess if the lock is malfunctioning, we’ll have to try to go around the back.”
    Julian stuffed the key into the lock again and twisted it. This time, with his mind so much clearer, Jesse was able to get a better look at what he was doing.
    No… There was just no way…
    “Julian, you complete and utter… Emperor of the dunces!” Jesse exclaimed. “You are turning the key the wrong way!”
    “Oh…” Julian said. “Is that what’s wrong?”
    Jesse tore the key from his hand, stuck it in the lock and turned it the CORRECT way. The door opened perfectly easily after that. “I need to study you,” Jesse mumbled. “I must learn how it is possible for a human to remain alive with zero functional brain cells.”
  2. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Babyfxce3 in To Have and To Hold   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "Trying To Get Out Of A Complicated Outfit".
    ***
    Lana had really believed that she’d picked the perfect outfit for her very first art show. She wasn’t the only artist on display, as several of her classmates had contributed as well, so Lana wanted to make sure she stood out. She spent ages deciding what to wear, until she was certain she’d found the best ensemble possible.
    It seemed that way at first, she was getting tons of compliments on it, and Martha loved it. The colorful palm-leaf pattern on her jumpsuit matched the beach-themed paintings on display almost perfectly, tying the theme together. The light grey belt tied around her waist kept the outfit from being too overly bright. And, the long sleeves prevented her from getting too cold in the well air conditioned museum.
    She went around speaking to people for a while, having an easier time talking to strangers than she usually would. Lana was proud to say which of the paintings were hers. Since her outfit matched her paintings, it was pretty easy for folks to guess which she’d made, though. She answered questions, explaining different methods used to achieve the lighting effects in each of the images, and how she was able to subtly differentiate the sky from the ocean water with very slight strokes.
    It wasn’t until a couple hours had passed that Lana realized her choice of outfit might not have been that great after all. Speaking to people had dried out her throat, and looking at the bodies of water she’d painted had only made her thirstier, so she’d had to make several trips to the water fountain, drinking away until the scratchiness in her esophagus had abated.
    Eventually, all that water started asking to come back out. And, while Lana tried to ignore its request for as long as possible, it only took a few more conversations for her bladder to begin making its demand in a far less polite manner. The nudging tingles around her waistline turned into more insistent jabs at her opening. She really needed to make an excuse to go ‘freshen up.’
    Of course, her bladder didn’t decide to start REALLY throbbing until she was with Martha, though. Lana had really been trying to get herself more comfortable with discussing this topic with her girlfriend. But, it wasn’t getting any easier. Even after that day in the mall restroom, when she’d finally been able to empty out while Martha listened to music to cover up the noise, Lana still felt too awkward.
    Honestly, the fact that Martha now knew that she was so embarrassed about this seemed to make it even harder. Lana could just imagine her thinking ‘Well, if Lana’s actually worked up the nerve to TELL me, she must REALLY need to go!’ and her face heated.
    That day at the mall had been the last time Lana had successfully peed around Martha. It wasn’t even for lack of trying, either. Whenever they were out and Martha went to pee, Lana would tag along, assuming it would be easier since SHE hadn’t been the one to bring it up. But, then once she got into a stall and sat down, nothing would happen— Even if her bladder had been aching! She’d just be sitting there, listening to Martha pee so easily in the other stall, while her own stream failed to materialize.
    Then, Martha would finish, tell Lana she’d wait for her outside, and once the door was closed behind her, Lana would unclench and let go. The most troubling thing about that was how it didn’t matter if there were OTHER women in the room with her at that point. Even if she could hear a girl talking on her phone, or a couple of them chatting at the mirror, Lana would be able to pee so long as Martha, specifically, was not in the room with her.
    Lana knew how sensitive Martha was to rejection— Perceived or genuine— and that this likely bothered her— She KNEW that it bothered her. Martha wanted to be able to live together someday, how could Lana share an apartment with someone if she couldn’t pee around them? Lana was picturing herself having to hold it in every single day until Martha went to sleep if she never managed to get over this. And that wouldn’t even be physically possible.
    She couldn’t even tell Martha when she had to go without getting flustered and embarrassed, the idea of someday being capable of just letting it flow with her right there seemed like a pipe dream.
    For a while, Lana tried to just hold it until the end of the show, wandering the area with Martha, talking to anyone who approached her, and pretending like nothing was bothering her. She tried to fantasize about being a world-famous artist someday, and her paintings being sold for thousands upon thousands of dollars, rather than just a hundred a piece like they were going for tonight.
    When her daydreams about fame and fortune started being replaced by ones about twisting the lock to a bathroom stall and feeling cool porcelain beneath her, Lana accepted that holding it until the end of the show was going to be a lot harder than she’d hoped. When she and Martha walked by a water fountain, and Lana’s knees almost buckled at the sound of someone drinking from it, she realized she was running out of time. This was going to become an emergency if she didn’t handle it.
    “Ummm…” Lana bit her lip as she turned to her girlfriend. The person at the water fountain was still slurping away, the rush of liquid coiling around her bladder like a snake, squeezing it sharply. She tensed her thighs.
    “Yeah?” Martha asked. “Are you getting kinda tired of talking to people?”
    Lana struggled to form words for a second, then just told Martha that she had to check on something for a minute. She hoped that was an alright excuse. Martha probably expected her to be busy tonight, after all— Though, apart from chatting with people, there hadn’t actually been THAT many things Lana needed to do.
    There was really only ONE thing she had to do now, and she had to do it VERY soon. Once she’d broken away from Martha and entered the main hallway of the museum, she eagerly scanned it for a sign that could direct her to the nearest women’s room. Her thighs strained a bit more roughly now. Out of Martha’s sight, Lana felt more free to squirm and wriggle. Her knees crossed over each other, her feet bounced. When she started walking again, she felt hot stabs jabbing against her opening with each step.
    How much water had she had to drink tonight, anyway? It felt like she had gallons stuck inside her tank. At last, she saw the door she needed and pushed her way inside. The muscles clamping her urethra closed started to loosen at the sight of the long row of stalls. She had to squeeze her legs together one more time before she was able to walk into one. She released a thankful sigh as she locked the door and turned around to face the toilet.
    She reached up to pull down her—
    Oh… Right… She had on a jumpsuit. She groaned, bladder heavy with the knowledge that it’s relief was going to be delayed an extra few minutes. This wasn’t as simple as pulling down her pants and taking a much-needed seat. She had to take off the belt, then undo all the buttons that were running up her back. Only THEN would she be free to relieve herself.
    She cringed, shifting between her feet as she untied the belt. She should have THOUGHT of this before choosing her outfit— She DEFINITELY should have thought of this before deciding to wait so long to pee. If she only needed the toilet a little bit, then this wouldn’t be such a problem. Her palms wouldn’t be sweating, her fingers wouldn’t be trembling, and she WOULDN’T be having such a hard time untying the knot on her belt.
    But, she needed the toilet BAD, and being in a bathroom stall was making it worse. The toilet was right there, right behind her. The seat looked so comfortable, too! Her sphincters were trembling, feet dancing against the floor and knees pinching closer together. She felt like another gallon of liquid had been deposited into her bladder since she’d first set foot in this room, furiously thrashing around and begging for release.
    At last, the belt came apart and she unwrapped it from her waist. Lana breathed a satisfied sigh. Some of the pressure was dissipating, her bladder felt less restrained, less confined. She hadn’t realized how much the belt had been compressing it until she’d gotten rid of it. She tucked it into her pocket and moved her hands up behind her neck, feeling for the first button.
    It took her a second to grab onto it correctly, and she struggled even more to actually get it apart. She tried to remember how many buttons there were, how many she’d have to open before she’d be capable of peeing. She couldn’t recall. Martha had helped her put this thing on earlier, and Lana hadn’t paid enough attention to the number of buttons. She was regretting that now.
    She was regretting a lot of things now. She may have managed the first button, but her arms refused to bend in any direction that let her work the next one. She kept trying, and her shoulders started to burn and cramp almost as much as her bladder was.
    Ohhh, she’d been such an idiot! If she needed help getting this outfit ON, then OF COURSE she should have realized that she’d need help taking it OFF, too! She just hadn’t been THINKING about taking it off! She hadn’t considered that she might desperately need to remove it before the show was over! She must have left her brain at home or something. First, she stupidly decided to wear something that buttoned up the back. THEN she’d drank water all evening without ONCE considering where it would all go. And, THEN, when she started needing to pee, she chose to IGNORE that until it started getting urgent.
    All those awful decisions had piled up, and now here Lana was, her bladder full enough that she couldn’t help but jiggle up and down, a toilet right there in front of her, and no way to pull her clothes down enough to actually USE it. The sight of it was too much right now, and she spun to face the door instead.
    What was she supposed to do now? As she continued trying to grasp hold of the next button, her body kept acting on instinct. Her knees kept bending, trying to lower her onto the seat of the toilet. She had to keep forcing herself to stand up straight, certain that if she sat down, she’d pee through her clothes. She wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening.
    Before long, she was alternating between fighting with the buttons, and pushing her hands up against herself. There was a slight clammy feeling between her thighs. She couldn’t tell if it was sweat, but she hoped it was. Her bladder was burning like crazy, her opening scorching hot against the pressure, but she didn’t think she’d felt anything slip out yet.
    Lana kept it up for a few more minutes, not wanting to accept that she was stuck. She had to use the toilet so much! She didn’t want to walk away from this one without emptying her bladder first! But, it was becoming increasingly clear that she wouldn’t be able to pee any time soon. She’d been in here long enough, Martha was probably wondering where she’d gone.
    Martha…
    Oh no, she was gonna have to go back to her like this! She was gonna have to return to her girlfriend, and pretend that her bladder wasn’t so full that she could feel its seams coming undone! How was she supposed to do that?!
    Lana took a moment to try and compose herself. She thought about re-doing the one button she’d managed to take apart, but decided against it. No one would notice. She didn’t even CONSIDER putting the belt back on, she didn’t need anything strangling her bladder. She cupped both of her hands against herself and dug them in tightly, savoring the small bit of relief this granted to her. She crossed her legs as well for good measure, not daring to turn back around to look at the toilet.
    Waves were colliding inside her bladder, and she was all too aware of how ridiculous this situation was. She was doing a full-blown pee dance right beside a toilet, squirming and bouncing for all she was worth while locked inside a restroom stall. If she just hadn’t been such a moron, if she’d picked ANY other outfit to wear, she would have unleashed a satisfying spray ages ago.
    She knew that being here, in this room, was making her desperation worse. She knew that the sights of the restroom, the locked door in front of her, the toilet paper dispenser beside her, the pale tiled floor, were all compounding her emergency. She knew it would be easier to hold it if she was somewhere else, but she was reluctant to give up the privacy offered to her by the stall. The way it allowed her to writhe and clutch at herself was much appreciated. She’d been pinning her fingers against her opening as tight as they’d go for a while now, and the thought of releasing the hold was terrifying. She imagined her pee gushing down her legs the instant she stopped holding her crotch.
    Lana REALLY didn’t want to go back to Martha this way. How long would she be able to refrain from dancing around? It would be obvious that she was bursting, and Martha would see…
    Lana whimpered softly to herself, then squeaked and went silent when she heard the main door to the room opening, followed by some voices. “Finally,” one of them said. “You’d think they’d have more signs telling you where the bathroom is…”
    “I know,” another said. “Guess they think the signs would distract from the paintings…”
    “Thank God there are enough stalls,” a final voice said.
    Lana listened as three stall doors were shut. One of the girls seemed to be in a serious rush, because not even a full second later, Lana heard her begin to pee. She must have been very desperate indeed, because her release came out strong and fast, punctuated by a breathless moan.
    Lana cringed and folded over on herself, hands wedging even more firmly. She felt more dampness between her legs, and this time she KNEW it was from a leak.
    When the other two girls began peeing a second later, Lana couldn’t take it anymore. It was one thing to have to just stand there and LOOK at a toilet while bursting to go, it was quite another to be subjected to the sound of three people relieving their full bladders when she had no choice but to keep waiting.
    She burst out of the stall and hobbled out of the room as quickly as she could. To her dismay, she couldn’t do it that fast, and her ears continued to be assaulted by the hissing gushes. Another bit of liquid trickled warmly into her panties as one of the girls sighed “I feel so much better…”
    Lana shoved open the door and returned to the hallway. Her eyes darted around it, even though she had NO idea what she was looking for. This hall held nothing but old sculptures. Perhaps she could find one with a real sword, which she could use to slice this stupid jumpsuit off? Then, maybe another that was wearing actual clothing that happened to be just her size? Of course, no such sculptures existed, none of them had weapons, and of the ones wearing clothes, their outfits were made out of the same marble as the rest of them.
    Lana had watched a movie a long time ago about a museum where the sculptures came to life after dark. The movie never addressed what would happen if one of them needed to pee and couldn’t take off the clothes carved into them.
    Okay, maybe she had to pee so bad that she was starting to go crazy… She just had to find Martha, suffer through the rest of this show, and head home for the night. She’d have to SOMEHOW make it all the way there without having an accident. Then, she and Martha would have to go to her room, Martha would have to unbutton her, and Lana would have to keep a straight face and act like she wasn’t in any hurry for that to happen.
    Or worse. If Martha didn’t have the time before she needed to get back to her OWN apartment, Lana would have to ask either her Dad or her Grandpa to help her out of the jumpsuit before she made a huge puddle in their hallway.
    Basically, there was no way for this evening to end WITHOUT Lana being humiliated in some way. And the most likely outcome was that she wet herself before the show even ended!
    She limped down the hall, her feet dragging since taking ACTUAL steps was now too painful to even contemplate. Before she got back to the correct gallery, she saw Martha. Martha was looking a little worse for wear, eyes wide, brow sweaty, obviously in a hurry. 

Had she been looking for her all this time?
    “Martha!” Lana called, as loudly as she could around the boulder of her bladder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, I was—“
    Martha rushed over to her, “Lana, PLEASE tell me you know where I can find a bathroom?” She asked. “I’ve never been to this museum! You have though, right?!”
    Oh…
    Lana looked more closely at Martha’s outfit now. Of course, she’d checked it out earlier already, but now instead of appreciating the way Martha’s jeans hugged her hips, she tried not to seethe with jealousy over how easily Martha would be able to pull them down.
    Speaking of Martha’s hips, though, they were wriggling. Now that Martha was standing still in front of her, Lana could see the frantic tremors in her legs, and the way they were pushing together.
    No sense in BOTH of them being miserable… Lana led Martha back the way she’d come, almost grasping her crotch again when she saw the sign on the bathroom door. Her body didn’t seem to WANT to understand that, even if she was near a toilet, she wouldn’t be able to use one for several more hours.
    “Thank you,” Martha said. “Wait right here, okay?” She rushed inside.
    Lana stood next to the door and resumed the pee-dance she’d been performing in the stall earlier. She tucked her hands under her armpits to keep them from moving between her legs, but she did everything else just as before. She stomped her feet, she swayed from side to side, she crossed her legs, she doubled over. She did everything to broadcast that she was dying to pee, save for the most obvious action of openly holding herself.
    A woman stopped beside her, “Are you in line?” She asked, frowning.
    Lana shook her head miserably. She wished that was the only problem. She WISHED that she was merely stuck in line for a toilet, and THAT was the only reason she was still holding it.
    The woman stared at her for a moment, but then went through the door. As she entered, Martha stepped out, and Lana didn’t have enough time to react, to straighten herself back out again.
    “Lana…?” Martha asked. “Are you okay?”
    Lana shook her head, “I’m— I need to leave early, I think,” she said.
    “What’s wrong?” Martha asked. “Did you not wanna go because I was in the—“ 

“No!” Lana cut her off sharply. The last thing she wanted was for Martha to think this was her fault. “It’s nothing to do with you, it’s me— I’m the idiot!”
    “What?”
    “I decided to wear this ridiculous jumpsuit, I didn’t even think about how I’d get it back off, and now I’m gonna—“
    “You just can’t get your clothes down?” Martha asked. “That’s not so bad.”
    Not so bad?! Lana was gonna have an accident! Of course it was bad!
    “Just let me help,” Martha said. “I helped you get it on, right?”
    “But—“ Lana’s skin felt so warm, but her insides all felt cold. She had definitely fantasized about Martha undressing her, but not with the sole intent of helping her relieve herself!
    “I’ll just help you with your clothes, once that’s done I’ll leave— This won’t be any worse than when we were costume shopping, right?”
    “I guess not…” Lana agreed. “But, that time we weren’t IN the bathroom.”
    “Not much we can do about that, there isn’t anywhere else private,” Martha pointed out. “Come on, it’ll be fine.”
    Lana nodded and let Martha lead her into the restroom, then to the larger, accessible stall at the end of the row. Lana whimpered involuntarily at the sight of the toilet, and turned away from it. Next thing she knew, she was grabbing herself again. “Mmmmf…” she moaned, miserable with embarrassment.
    Martha didn’t comment on where Lana’s hands had gone, simply set about undoing the buttons on her outfit. “It’s alright,” she repeated. “I’ll do it fast.”
    Lana was starting to leak again— She was beginning to have an accident right in front of Martha! This could NOT be happening! Her voice cracked as words flew from her mouth without permission; “Hurry!”
    Martha did, frantically unfastening each button, once she’d gotten the final one apart, she said, “There! Now, you can go!”
    Lana’s body acted on instinct again. Her hands flew up to begin pushing the suit down off of herself, and she collapsed onto the toilet behind her, a furious spray striking the bowl instantly. For the first couple seconds, all she could register was the mind-numbing relief, the shock that she’d actually sat down in time to avoid all of this gushing down her legs. But, then the full reality of it hit her— She was peeing out a tsunami in front of Martha! That was almost as bad as having an accident!
    She covered her face with her hands, shuddering hard. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was from the force of her release— Which she was NOT able to stop, even if her life depended on it— Or from the embarrassment. “I’m sorry!” She cried out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”
    Martha quickly turned to face the other way. She thought about leaving the stall, but opening the door would probably just upset Lana more. “I—It’s alright!” She said once more. “When you gotta go, you gotta go!”
    And, wow did Lana have to go… Martha was shocked that this was happening, poor girl must have been exploding to just… Give up and do it like this. Especially with that ‘Paruresis’ thing Lana sort of had… If her body was LETTING this happen, she must have been right at the verge of an accident.
    Or maybe Lana was actually getting more comfortable about this? Either one was possible, but Martha hoped it was the second thing. If this was getting Lana closer to the day where she’d be able to pee around Martha without a second thought, that was a very good thing.
    Lana was still covering her face as the last of her pee finally trickled out, she shuddered again, and this time she knew it was from embarrassment. It took her several seconds to manage to stand back up again. Not only was she horribly ashamed of herself, she’d been peeing for so long that her legs were now numb.
    She pulled the jumpsuit back up and stuck her arms through the sleeves— Right, she’d just done that with her top exposed too, hadn’t she? This was so embarrassing…
    She flushed the toilet and mumbled, “I need help buttoning it up again.”
    Martha turned back around and did as she was asked, “Feel better now?”
    Lana didn’t respond.
    “Come on, you must feel a BIT better, right?”
    “I’m sorry…” Lana said instead. “I don’t know why I did that— I just… I—“
    “You couldn’t hold it anymore,” Martha filled in for her. “And that’s fine. Everyone has emergencies.”
    “But… In front of you…”
    “I’ve peed in front of you before,” Martha said. “Remember? And, it’s not like I watched you.”
    “You didn’t…? Not even a little?”
    “Okay, maybe for the first couple seconds, since I hadn’t realized you were gonna go like that. But, I turned around right away.”
    Lana gave an overdue sigh of relief. “You really aren’t disgusted?”
    “Because you had to pee really bad after drinking tons of water and getting stuck in your jumpsuit…?” Martha asked. “No, that doesn’t make you disgusting, that makes you a human.”
  3. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Omoway in Killer Omorashi   
    As Jesse changed out of his soaked clothes, he grumbled to himself about the indignity of it all. His bladder had never really been on his side, always seeming to fill itself to the brim at the worst possible moments. His body’s perceptions of itself had always been a little off kilter. He’d never known quite what to call it… His body was just always icy cold, which he supposed was why he never seemed to get sweaty. In addition, he was just perpetually numb. Things that should have hurt just… didn’t. He was able to stick his fingers into candle flame without feeling much of anything. He could wrap his hand around a shining light bulb and not register it burning. 
    It was not unless Jesse was experiencing an extreme level of pain, for example if instead of a small burn from a candle or bulb, his entire arm had been set on fire, only then did the agony manage to register itself. He’d never understood why he didn’t feel things the way other people did. In his earliest memory, his hand is full of cactus needles and his Mother is screaming, freaking out and trying to soothe him. But, Jesse is just sitting there and staring at the pointy things jabbed into him, with no idea why Mother is asking him over and over if he’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just interesting. 
    But, this constant numbness, this inability to recognize a sensation until it became very strong, meant that Jesse could barely ever realize that he needed to relieve his bladder until it was a catastrophic emergency. This, Jesse thought, was one of the biggest problems with being so numb. When he was very little and kept on having accidents well after others his age had stopped, Mother had taken him to a doctor, thinking that he had something wrong in his bladder. 
    He didn’t. The doctor asked him if he couldn’t feel when he had to go, and he tried to explain that he COULD, but only when it was really close to coming out. The doctor just assumed he was like any other kid, not paying attention because he was busy playing. 
    But, as Jesse got older, old enough to stop getting so caught up in games that he neglected pee breaks, his problem stayed the same. He couldn’t count the number of times he passed up an opportunity for a piss, only to suddenly find himself on the verge of an accident two minutes later. He’d driven his teachers crazy with it in elementary school. “We JUST had a bathroom break, Jesse. You can wait.” 
    But, Jesse could never wait. He’d wriggle and squirm, and then he’d pee in his seat after about half an hour of constant jiggling. He would be comforted by his Mother each time this happened. He would also be comforted every time he wet the bed growing up, which happened most nights. “It’s okay, Jesse,” she said. “You’ll grow out of this.” 
    But, Jesse never did.
    All through middle and high school, Jesse would have to be careful to remind himself to pee at each break, even when he didn’t feel the need to go. And even though he’d felt none of the pressure in his bladder, he would often stand there peeing for almost half a minute, the relief not registering any more than the urge had. 
    The only times the sensations of relief were strong enough to penetrate the numbness was when Jesse had been completely bursting to go, like he had been earlier… 
    Even though that bout of desperation had ended with an enormous puddle, it was still not the most desperate Jesse had ever been in his life. No, that honor went to when he and Julian had needed to split town last year once it became clear people were growing suspicious of their activities. 
    The plan was to travel by train across the country to a new location and begin their work once more there. When it came time to get off one train and get onto another, they were to do so as quickly as possible in order to avoid being seen by anyone employed at the station or getting spotted on a security camera. 
    There was not, as Jesse emphatically told Julian over and over, any time to use the restroom at the train stations. Jesse spent some of the time they were traveling working on a letter to his Mother, telling her not to worry about his whereabouts and that he was safe. He spent even more of the time they were traveling growing more and more annoyed by Julian’s incessant pleas for a toilet break. 
    The moron had been nice and quiet during the first two stops. Then, after that it was “Jesse, I have to piss!” “Jesse, I have to piss NOW!” “Jesse, I can’t hold it!” “Jesse, please, you gotta let me go here!” Jesse would angrily shush him each time. They were supposed to be QUIET as they maneuvered through the stations to avoid drawing attention. Julian loudly begging for a urinal was not helping them accomplish that. 
    “Silence!” Jesse hissed, forcing Julian onto the next train. “You do not need to go that badly. You are imagining it.” 
    Julian’s legs had twisted together and begun to bounce. Confused, he said “How could I be imagining it?! I’ve already peed a little!” 
    Jesse grimaced. He had not wanted to know that. “Well, then you’ve released the excess pressure, haven’t you? That means you can retain the rest inside yourself.” 
    Deciding those words probably amounted to ‘Just shut up and hold it!’, Julian chewed on his lip and stared out the window as the train started to move. He held himself as he was jostled around. “I can’t, Jesse…” Julian said. “I just GOTTA go at the next stop.” 
    Jesse rolled his eyes at his accomplice’s pathetic display. “We can have one comfort break today,” he conceded. 
    “What’s—“ 
    “We will pee once,” Jesse interrupted. “But, only when it becomes necessary. When we BOTH absolutely require it.” 
    “But, Jesse, I ‘absolutely require it’ RIGHT now,” Julian said, and he curled and twisted every which way as he fought not to flood the seat he was in. 
    “But, I do not,” Jesse said. “And I don’t want to waste our one break if I don’t need to make use of it.” 
    “But… YOU’RE the one that says we can only have—“ 
    “You are lucky I am allowing even one,” Jesse interrupted. “Now, be quiet and control yourself. You will get to do what you need to do later.” 
    Julian felt like he was going to ‘do what he needed to do’ in his pants any second now, but he could tell there was no arguing with Jesse. He understood WHY Jesse didn’t want to linger around the train stations for long, but Julian didn’t think peeing would take all THAT much time! Sure, Julian was probably holding five gallons of piss inside his body right now, but Julian was a fast pee-er. If he pushed hard enough, he was sure he could get it all out in under a minute. He imagined how loudly it was gonna spray, how good it was gonna feel, how— 
    Drip… 
    He snapped his legs together and tried to STOP imagining those things. 
    Jesse refused Julian’s repeated begs for the toilet at the next stop and forced him onto the next train. Thirty minutes after that one took off down the rail, Jesse’s bladder at last became full enough to penetrate through his numb senses, and he instantly went from feeling not even the tiniest tingle in his middle to fighting not to double over as urgent spasms rocked through his entire body. “We will be taking that break at the next stop,” he informed Julian, hissing through his teeth. 
    For the ten millionth time in his life, Jesse cursed his perpetual physical insensitivity to all stimuli. He had observed the behavior of others enough to know that everyone else was capable of recognizing when their bladder was starting to get a little full, they could register they needed the toilet long before they were bursting for it. But, not Jesse. His bladder only ever felt completely empty or filled to its brim, he didn’t get to have that warning build-up over time. 
    Julian, being a person that possessed two functioning eye balls, could tell right away that Jesse was dying for the toilet now, and this confused him. If Jesse had been holding it this whole time too, why hadn’t he agreed to go earlier? “But— We were just near a bathroom! Why’d you—“ 
    “My affairs are none of your concerns, Julian,” Jesse said. 
    “…Affairs?” Julian repeated. “What? Holding it until you’re about to wet your pants when you were JUST near a toilet— One that I BEGGED you to stop at— That’s an ‘affair’?” 
    “I had no need to relieve myself at the last stop,” Jesse said. But, dear GOD did he have such a need now! His jeans were squishing his abdomen without even the slightest hint of mercy. It felt like a twenty pound bowling ball was crammed inside his body, bruising and slamming into his other organs. 
    “What the Hell do you mean?!” Julian asked, staring at Jesse’s knotted legs and the hands pinned between them. He knew his own position was probably no less pathetic than Jesse’s by now, but he’d at least been trying ALL DAY to get to a bathroom… “You’ve obviously been holding it a while!” 
    “I felt no urge to go until now,” Jesse stated. He bounced up and down in his seat, his hands kneading painfully into his crotch. He knew how ridiculous his claim must have sounded, even if it was the truth. 
    Julian slumped back, trying to give his bladder more room to stretch out. He was too desperate for a urinal to argue right now. He kicked his legs out in front of himself, crossed them tight at the ankles. “How much longer until the next stop?” He asked. Even if Jesse had apparently decided to take his stupid pills today, at least he’d promised Julian a bathroom break. At least Julian knew he’d be peeing soon… 
    “I do not know,” Jesse said, annoyed. He tensed his thighs around his hands, squeezing tight and trying to plug up his opening as much as he could. “I have never been out this way before.” His bladder throbbed and thrashed, bashing around inside his body as gallons of urine looked for an escape route. ‘Ohhh, please let it be close!’ A tiny, pathetic voice in Jesse’s brain begged. ‘Please, please? I need to go real bad!’ 
    Jesse tried to silence the voice. No way could that have come from his own brain. No way could he honestly be having such needy, whining thoughts. 
    Because, Jesse could hold it. He may have needed a toilet so badly that he felt like the pressure he was under was strong enough to crush a truck, but he could hold it. He could hold it. He could hold it. He could hold it. 
    Pee pulsed down his urethra and wet the front of his boxers as his bladder angrily shouted back that no, he in fact couldn’t hold it. He hissed through his clenched teeth as he rocked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, damp crotch straining against his hands. 
    At last, the train came to a stop. “We are relieving ourselves here, do not argue with me,” Jesse gruffly said to Julian. 
    Julian stared, blinking at Jesse as he gently raised himself to his feet and fought not to explode right then and there. He wondered why on God’s green Earth Jesse thought he would even consider arguing with him about NOT pissing here after he’d just spent the last several hours pleading for permission to do exactly that. 
    Jesse watched as Julian walked to the exit and tried to force himself up. As soon as he was on his feet, a jet of liquid shot down his shaft and his grip on himself tightened so much that it was painful. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but he knew if he loosened his hold at all, he’d pee and pee and pee until he was standing in an enormous puddle. He attempted to straighten himself out and walk in a way that was at least somewhere in the same zip-code of ‘normal’, but this proved impossible. Standing up too tall made the skin stretch over his bladder and drops of urine dribble out. Parting his legs too much to take a step made short but intense leaks hiss into his pants. Basically, all he could manage was to do tiny, humiliating hops, folded over almost in half as he held onto his crotch for dear life. 
    Julian was able to walk a little bit better than Jesse could, and that was why he was able to reach the door to what they both needed before Jesse. Julian removed one hand from between his legs to grip the doorknob when Jesse caught up. “N—Needless to say, I will be using that room first.” 
    “No,” Julian disagreed. “You aren’t,” he shoved the door open and began working at his belt. Before he could shut the door closed again, Jesse forced his way in. 
    “I am on the verge of a catastrophe,” Jesse said, trying to shove past Julian to get to the toilet… Oh, God, the toilet… Jesse’s eyes were fixed on it now, he was so close… So close to relief… 
    “I don’t care what you’re ‘on the verge’ of!” Julian snapped. He was beginning to get very, very annoyed. It was Jesse’s fault that he had to pee so bad, it was Jesse’s fault that they BOTH had to pee so bad! Julian had TRIED to go before he had an emergency, and now that he was HAVING one he wasn’t about to let the guy that had continually prevented him from pissing go first! “You’re gonna have to wait!” 
    “Julian, no,” Jesse snarled. “You are GOING to allow me to use it first!” 
    “No way!” Julian shouted back as he loosened his belt and gripped his zip. “I’ve been holding it WAY longer!” And he knew he COULDN’T hold it another second! He was so angry with Jesse right now for forcing him to endure his full bladder for so long that he honestly WANTED him to have an accident. It would serve him right!
    “Then, step to the side,” Jesse said. “We will share it.” 
    Julian shook his head stubbornly. If Jesse hadn’t been such an asshole to him about bathroom breaks all through this trip, then he WOULD have considered moving over enough that they could both unleash their streams into the toilet, but he wasn’t going to do it now! Jesse was just gonna have to hold it or piss his pants. It was what he deserved. Julian unzipped, then pulled his pants down and sat himself on the toilet. The instant he felt the porcelain seat underneath him, his drips became a loud, gushing stream. As he gave a long, loud exhale of relief through his nose, he stuck his tongue out at Jesse. 
    ‘Immature little cretin…’ Jesse thought as he jumped from foot to foot. He knew Julian did not often sit down to urinate. The only reason he was doing so now was to make sure Jesse couldn’t use the toilet with him. 
    Julian put his hand between his legs and adjusted himself, so that his stream cascaded directly into the water beneath him, the volume of his hissing spray increased in intensity, and glancing to his side, he saw how much of an effect it was having upon Jesse. 
    Jesse was almost on his knees now, his hands pinned between his legs and his eyes wide… Were those… Were those tears? Holy shit, Julian had NEVER seen tears on Jesse’s face before. Or, at least not REAL ones. He’d only ever seen Jesse fake a cry to manipulate someone, but this looked pretty genuine. Julian almost felt bad. 
    Almost. 
    Emptying his bladder felt too good for Julian to feel bad about anything. 
    Besides, he reminded himself, Jesse deserved this. 
    ‘My bladder is going to rupture,’ Jesse thought as Julian continued pouring on and on and on. “Pl—Please… Hasten it up a tad?” 
    Julian just shook his head. “I’m going slower,” he informed. And, from the sound of it, he really WAS. Julian had always had a high level of control over his flow… He could make it come out as quickly or as slowly as he wanted. He could make himself stop pretty easily too… And that gave him another idea. He clenched his muscles for a moment. “Ahhh, I think I’m done,” he said. 
    “Then get u—“ 
    Then, Julian let go again, and pee noisily splashed into the bowl once more. “Nope. Sorry. My bad. I still gotta go.” 
    “Ohhhh, hurry!” Jesse bounced in place. He lost another leak. Then another. And another. He felt his palms and fingers getting damp as pee bloomed hot and wet over the crotch of his pants. “Hurry up!” Drips kept on pattering out, and Julian just kept peeing and peeing and sighing and peeing more, and— 
    All at once, it was too much. 
    Jesse could not hold it any longer. He looked around the small room. No trash can… Letting it out against a wall could work… No, no, if someone went in right after them and found the mess, they might say something and then security could come and… Wow, imagine if he was captured all because he pissed on a wall! 
    Pinching his opening shut as much as he could, Jesse kept trying to think of an answer… The sink, yes. The sink. Sinks and urinals were basically the same thing, right? Both little bowls made of porcelain that expelled water down a drain. Pretty much the same thing! 
    Or, at least they were the same thing to a person whose mind was addled by the fog of intense desperation. 
    He let go of his continually spurting dick and tugged down his zipper, rushing madly for the sink, leaving a little trail of liquid along the way. The sink was too high up for him to aim into, but he was pretty sure it was sturdy enough to support his body weight… 
    “Jesse, what are you doing?” Julian laughed. He was nearly empty, he knew he’d be up off the toilet in just a couple more seconds, but as the last of his pee trickled out, he made no move to stand. He just stayed where he was and watched Jesse. 
    Jesse yanked his pants down and pulled himself up onto the sink, sitting over it and positioning himself so that he was gushing into the basin. Then, he moaned as he gave up the last bit of control he was still hanging on to. Piss loudly crashed into the sink and Jesse felt himself shiver. 
    “What the Hell are you doing?” Julian repeated, even though it was obvious. “I was just about done!” He stood and started to pull his pants back up. “Couldn’t you wait one more second?” 
    “Silence…” Jesse murmured, his features slackening as his body relaxed, urine still noisily spraying away beneath him. 
    “Not like I have to wash my hands or anything…” 
    “Silence,” Jesse managed once more through his heavy, relieved breaths, his pee gushing harder and harder. He doubted if the sink’s faucet itself could even match the power of his ‘faucet’. He was peeing as if he hadn’t relieved himself in weeks. This was all Julian’s own fault anyway. He wouldn’t let Jesse relieve himself into the toilet, and so this was what happened. Jesse’s bladder was still aching even as his stream crashed heavily into the basin. 
    “Jesus, Jesse,” Julian said. “How much do you drink?!” 
    “Ahhh…” Jesse moaned out, unable to articulate himself and unsure what he’d even say if he could. Liquid continued pouring hard and strong, noisily hissing and splashing. Jesse was growing a bit uncomfortable with how much Julian was watching. “Look somewhere el—“ 
    “Aren’t you done yet?” Julian asked impatiently. “And you bitched about how much I had to go?!” 
    “Give me a second,” Jesse said. “I think I’m nearly spent…” 
    “Are you sure?” Julian said, fighting down another laugh. 
    Jesse felt what seemed like the last few drops of his urine trickle out, but as soon as he thought he was finished, he felt the weight return to his abdomen and another intense wave of pee surged out. “Ahhh… Perhaps not…” He was gushing again with wild abandon and continued on for half a minute before the stream ceased once more. 
    Jesse stayed where he was, bearing down on his muscles as hard as he could, attempting to force out anything else his bladder might have still been containing. He didn’t feel the need to go anymore, and after a few more seconds of attempting to start up another stream, he felt confident he really was emptied out. 
    Jesse dropped down from the sink and slid his pants back up, zipping and buttoning them. He gave another sigh through his nose. 
    “… Feeling a little bit better now?” Julian asked. “You… You’re gonna rinse out the sink, right?” 
    Jesse groaned, but decided he should probably do that. 
    They continued on their journey, and when after a few more stops Julian announced that he was once more desperate for the toilet, Jesse chose not to argue and the two were able to have a far less dramatic pee break. 
    Once they reached their destination, Jesse promised himself he’d do a better job of relieving himself when he had the chance, even if he didn’t feel like he had to. But, he forgot more often than not. 
    That was definitely the most desperate he could recall ever feeling, and he was amazed that it hadn’t ended in a puddle just like his agony from earlier today had.
  4. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Omoway in Killer Omorashi   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "Too Stubborn To Admit It". 
    I hope this one fits the prompt okay. Since what he’s ‘too stubborn to admit’ ISN’T that he needs to pee.
    ***
    Jesse and Julian shared a bed at night. It wasn’t that they were a couple, or anything. Just, they only had the one bed. And it was a big bed, anyway. And… Okay, maybe Jesse did like that Julian was really warm. And, maybe some nights he’d snuggle closer to him if he was feeling extra chilly, but… But, that was all! 
    Julian liked when Jesse cozied up to him like that, even if he knew the other was just seeking his body-heat. It felt nice, Julian didn’t even mind it when Jesse wet the bed and caused the both of them to wake up damp. 
    It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Jesse would wet himself at some point during each night. It didn’t matter how long before bedtime he ceased drinking water, or if he peed just a minute or two before it was time to sleep; His bladder would always fill up and empty itself while he dozed. A few times, Jesse had tried to use a moisture sensor and alarm in order to wake himself up when he began to leak, but the alarm never managed to actually rouse him. It never failed to wake Julian, but by the time he’d shaken Jesse into consciousness, the other’s bladder had already finished draining out into his pants. 
    They did try to minimize the damage of Jesse’s night-time accidents. The mattress had a protective cover, and Jesse’s half of the bed always had an absorbent mat for him to lay on top of, which soaked up the majority of his spilled liquids. If he rolled away from the mat in his sleep though, the sheets always had to be washed.
    When morning came, they didn’t talk about it. Julian didn’t groan “Really, Jesse? Again?” because he’d known to expect it. It was so rare that Jesse managed to wake up dry that Julian only commented on THOSE mornings, things like “Wow, you actually made it…” or “Cool, you’re all dry for once!” Things that would always be met with grunted insults as Jesse ran to the toilet with his hands between his legs— Because whenever Jesse actually held his pee through the night, he’d wake up feeling unfathomably desperate to go. 
    That night, Jesse relieved himself right before bed, just as he always did in spite of knowing how futile it really was. He hadn’t felt much urge to pee, but when he relaxed and let it flow his release lasted for over half a minute. He knew that, had he been able to sense things as intensely as other people, he probably would have been squirming about as he’d lowered his pajama pants. He also knew that, had he been able to sense things as intensely as other people, the relief of his bladder deflating would have been pretty exquisite. 
    But, Jesse was numb, and the feelings weren’t extreme enough for him to notice them. He hadn’t registered the fullness pulsing in his bladder, nor had he been able to truly enjoy his release. 
    Unlike Julian, whom knocked on the bathroom door as Jesse finished up, asking how much longer he was going to be in there. Jesse opened the door, seeing Julian tapping his foot and shimming his hips impatiently. “Fucking finally…” Julian mumbled, pushing past Jesse and up to the toilet. 
    Julian hadn’t shut the door and Jesse watched as he freed his dick and released a clear stream of pee into the bowl. From the force of Julian’s release, he had certainly needed to go, but it wasn’t as powerful as the jet of urine Jesse had let go of a moment earlier. That… Fascinated Jesse. He’d evidently been fuller than Julian, yet Julian had FELT his need much more strongly. When Julian sighed loudly once he’d finished after only around twenty seconds, that too piqued Jesse’s curiosity. He wondered what it would be like to actually FEEL things the way Julian did… Would Jesse be able to hold less than he could now if he was made to experience the discomfort from the moment his bladder first began to fill up? 
    Jesse thought about that as he fell asleep. His bladder was large, it could certainly fit a lot inside it… But, once it finally managed to get so full that Jesse actually realized he needed to go, the pain was IMMENSE and he’d want it all OUT right that very instant! If he was able to register those aching pinches and throbs sooner, he doubted he’d be willing to hold even half as much as he did now. It just hurt too badly! 
    *** 
    Jesse was at the hardware store with Julian. This was where Jesse purchased ropes and other materials he needed for ‘work’. They alternated between hardware stores every time they needed to pick up something. Julian thought it was pointless. “We should just keep going to the one closest to home,” he always complained. 
    “Sure,” Jesse would roll his eyes. “We should go buy a bunch of ropes, saws and whatnot from the same location every fortnight. That won’t look suspicious in the least!” 
    And Julian would nod and say, “So, you agree? We don’t have to go so far today?” 
    To which Jesse would always smack him on the head and not say another word. 
    During this particular trip, Jesse found himself in the midst of a major emergency. Like always, the urge to urinate hit him all at once and, suddenly, an intense needful surge was pulsing in his bladder. It was bad enough that he stopped mid-step to clench his thighs together, groaning. “Mmmf…” 
    “What’s the matter, Jesse?” Julian asked him. 
    Jesse looked away. He could not understand why the need to relieve himself always caused him to feel embarrassed. It was idiotic; Everyone had a bladder, it wasn’t as though he was so proud as to pretend he was an exception to that. It still made him blush sometimes to tell Julian what he needed to do— Particularly if Julian hadn’t said that HE needed to go first. “I… I must excuse myself for a moment, Julian,” Jesse told him. 
    Of course, Julian couldn’t take the hint. He was as dense as a neutron star. “Hm? Why? Did something happen?” Julian sped directly to Jesse’s side. Thank God the moron at least had enough intelligence to whisper his next statement; “Do you think someone is onto us here?” 
    Jesse heaved a heavy sigh. They were alone in this aisle. They’d been alone in the last several aisles. If someone had noticed them and was following them around for some reason, then they were invisible. “No, Julian. I just… I require use of the facilities now, alright?” 
    “Um…” Julian frowned. “O—Ohh, right. That’s a fancy way to say ‘toilet’, isn’t it?” 
    “… Yes,” Jesse said. “Please, excuse me. It is rather urgent.” 
    “It’s okay, I’ll go with you!” Julian said, hugging Jesse and causing him to grimace. “I gotta go too all of the sudden.” 
    Jesse groaned again. Julian had the most peculiar habit of always ‘suddenly’ needing to pee the moment Jesse said that HE did. “Alright… Just… Leave the cart close to the restrooms.” 
    “Will do,” Julian said, and they started in that direction. Jesse grew more and more and more desperate with every step. This interested him a bit. It always sort of had, the way his bladder seemed to just KNOW when he was getting closer to a toilet. The way it… Anticipated it, started to loosen itself up as it prepared for relief, only succeeding in making Jesse have to fight harder not to let go too soon. 
    All that loosening inside his bladder stopped when Jesse saw the massive line for the men’s room. Oh, this was ridiculous. It spilled out the door… The men’s room wasn’t supposed to have a line this big! Ever! He’d only ever seen these sorts of crowds in front of the women’s one before. Jesse hopped up and down a little as he took his place at the end of the line. 
    “Aw, shit,” Julian said. “This is gonna take a while! Can you make it, Jesse?” 
    Jesse glared at him. What an irritating question… 
    “Did you bring your knife? Why don’t you just stab everybody?” 
    What in the world was wrong with that boy, and how did Jesse ever find himself stuck with such an incompetent fool? The person right in front of them had looked back over his shoulder, so Jesse forced a smile, remembering that there WAS a reason someone would make a statement like that even if they HADN’T ever actually stabbed anybody. “Eheh, you are so humorous, Julian. But, please do not make me laugh! That is way too hard on my bladder!” 
    “O—Oh, right,” Julian said, quieting down. 
    Jesse leaned against the wall and hitched his hips, wriggling from side to side. This was so bad… His insides were twisting, brimming with urine. He had to go so much… He wished that he COULD stab everyone in front of him, but he did have guidelines for choosing victims, and to his knowledge none of these people would pass. Not that he could just DO that outside of his basement, anyway. 
    He could perhaps use some of his other skills, though. Jesse was very good at manipulating people, after all. In the past, he’d managed to talk others into doing all sorts of things they’d never do ordinarily. This time, he was merely trying to get to the front of a line, so it should be far, far easier. 
    The main tool at Jesse’s disposal was always his appearance. He looked young. His eyes large and wide, his body small and slim, and his voice noticeably higher than most eighteen year olds’. It was easy for him to pass as someone much younger. And, people DID tend to move out of the way when a kid needed to urinate really badly… 
    But, to really sell it, Jesse would have to allow himself to do the major, full-blown pee-dance that his bladder was currently begging him for. He’d have to say, out loud, AND in childish terms, that he was very desperate for relief. 
    No. 
    That was far, FAR beneath him, 
    Besides, he could wait. 
    He could definitely wait. 
    A ripple of painful urgency tore through his bladder and he thought that, perhaps, maybe he COULDN’T wait! He crossed his legs tightly, not even meaning to do it, and started to open his mouth. “I— I— Have to—“ 
    The man in front of him turned around, and now he looked different than he had a moment ago when Julian had made that comment about knives. The difference was stark, the man now had no eyes, just a smooth patch of skin where they should have been. 
    And, Jesse realized right away that he was not actually at the hardware store waiting in line to pee. He was instead at home, in bed, and fast asleep. 
    That was the most peculiar aspect of Jesse’s nocturnal enuresis. Most nights, something would occur during his dream that would alert him to the fact that he was sleeping. He’d be aware of it, it would be clear to him that, if he let his bladder relax, he would wet his bed. But, that knowledge would never be enough to get him to WAKE UP no matter how hard he tried. He’d pinch or slap himself in an attempt to rouse his body awake, but would always fail. Then, before long, he’d need to urinate so badly that his dream-self had an accident at the same time his real-self did. 
    Now that he knew he was sleeping and that none of this was real, Jesse saw no reason to try to preserve much of his dignity. None of these people were ACTUALLY watching him, and the person beside him wasn’t the REAL Julian. So, he let his hands drop down to his crotch for a very firm squeeze and didn’t dare to move them. 
    “Ah, yeah,” Julian said. “Guess you figured out you’re sleeping?” 
    Even in Jesse’s dreams, Julian was a moron who kept pointing out the obvious… “I have,” he gritted out, bucking his hips against his clenched palms. 
    “Well, that means you CAN kill everybody here, right?” Julian said. “No consequences if it’s a dream. Just stab everyone so you can be at the front of the line.” 
    “Julian… You complete and utter… Emperor of the dullards…” Jesse grumbled. “Even if I do that, I still wouldn’t be able to void. I’ll only end up soiling the sheets again. What I NEED to do is wake up before I… Before I…” Wow, even inside a DREAM Jesse was embarrassed to say— 
    “Before you burst and wet yourself?” Julian finished for him. 
    “C—Correct…” Jesse turned away again. “I do sincerely hope that the dream version of you is at least SLIGHTLY less useless than you are in reality.” 
    “Hey!” Julian frowned. “If you keep being a dick, I’m not gonna help you wake up!” 
    Oh, for the love of… “This is my dream,” Jesse reminded. “You only exist inside my mind, you cannot possibly disobey me here!” 
    Julian stuck his tongue out, “Watch me!” He ran off. 
    “Return here, at once!” Jesse ordered, chasing after him. Now that he knew he was asleep, he was confused by how the jolt of his feet slapping the ground over and over still managed to shake up his bladder and slam the urine inside of it so roughly against his sphincters. He wasn’t ACTUALLY running around or stomping, so why did his bladder react as if he were? Was it just because it was what his brain EXPECTED to happen if he ran around while full of pee? 
    He didn’t know where Julian was now. And he wasn’t in the hardware store anymore. The dream had swapped locations to inside his house. He heard a toilet flush and watched Jesse leave the restroom. “Ahhh, better…” Julian sighed. “Thank you so much for letting me go first!” 
    Okay, was this actually Julian’s dream? Because real-Jesse would NEVER allow Julian to use the toilet first if he was this desperate— Or even if he didn’t feel like he had to go at all! Real-Jesse would make Julian WAIT. “Um… You are most welcome,” he said. Since he apparently couldn’t control dream-Julian, it would probably serve him well to at least get on his good side if he wanted help with waking up. 
    “Love you,” Julian told him. 
    Eheh… Um… Wow! Jesse REALLY couldn’t control dream-Julian, could he? Because that was DEFINITELY the LAST thing Jesse would ever want to hear come out of his mouth! “That is… Nice, Julian. But, I still require—“ 
    “I know, I know, you still gotta piss super bad,” Julian said. “Your turn now.” 
    Jesse shook his head. This was one of the things his dreams liked to do. They’d provide him with lots and lots of opportunities for relief, trying to tempt him into letting go and freeing himself from the pressure. “I cannot do that, Julian. If you recall, I am actually still asleep at the moment.” 
    “O—Oh, right!” Julian said. “I need to wake you up!” 
    Good. Being nice to dream-Julian HAD gotten him to be more willing to help. 
    “I know, I’ll startle you!” Julian said. He ran to Jesse’s side and hugged him tight. 
    “This is you ‘startling me’?” Jesse asked. Again, even though he knew he wasn’t ACTUALLY being squeezed around his midsection, his bladder felt like it really WAS being crushed in Julian’s arms. ‘Perhaps in the real world he IS hanging onto me?’ he wondered. 
    “Not yet,” Julian said, before giving Jesse a long, sloppy kiss on the cheek. 
    “Ah—No!” Jesse shoved him away. “You imbecile! For what purpose would you—“ 
    “To shock you awake,” Julian said. “Besides, this is YOUR dream. You said earlier that you can control me ‘cause I’m inside your brain or whatever, right? So, that must mean I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t WANT me to do!” 
    “I do not wish to have your lips touch any part of my body,” Jesse said. “Not even when we are outside the bounds of reality. You are speaking nonsense.” 
    “Even if you don’t WANT it,” Julian said. “Since it happened in your dream, that means you DEFINITELY at least thought about it. Your brain makes your dreams, doesn’t it?” 
    “Th—That is correct,” Jesse said, flustered. He started to pace in place as his bladder convulsed more and more. “I— Simply must have been subconsciously dreading the possibility that the REAL you would attempt such a maneuver one day.” 
    “Oh,” Julian said. “Well, if that didn’t wake you up, let’s try something else… Like… In the real-world, we are probably very close together, aren’t we?” 
    “Yes, Julian,” Jesse muttered. “We rest in the same bed, as that is the only one in our possession.” 
    “Ah, but we could GET a second, couldn’t we?” Julian prompted. “When we got that one, we could have gotten two smaller beds for around the same cost, right? And, you could always force me to sleep on the floor— You know I’d probably do that if you commanded it. But, for some reason, you picked the large bed, and you have never even attempted to make me spend the night on the ground.” 
    “We live in the mountains,” Jesse said. “It is much too frigid to lay on the floor throughout the entire night.” 
    “Oh, so when you give a reason, it’s one that makes it sound like you care about my health,” Julian said. “Why might that be?” 
    “Because you’re going to be even more useless if you become ill, you absolute and total half-wit,” Jesse snapped. “Whatever it may be that you are trying to allude to, rest assured that you are incorrect. As usual.” 
    Julian was right at Jesse’s side again, Jesse blushed as the other watched him stomp his feet and twist around, his hands still hadn’t budged from between his legs. “Maybe your dream will let you wake up once you admit it…” he said. “You want to go pee, don’t you? You want to make it to the toilet in time?” 
    “I… I do wish to relieve myself, yes,” Jesse agreed. His bladder surged away within him. He bent over at the waist and dug his hands firmly into his groin. Sweat beaded up on his brow. “But, I have nothing to confess.” 
    “You are a serial killer,” Julian said. “I think there’s a lot to confess…” 
    “You—“ Jesse gnashed his teeth together. “You know that isn’t what I was referring to!” 
    “Ah, so you DO realize what I’m trying to make you say!” 
    “N—No,” Jesse insisted. He twisted around, pressure mounting in his core. His entire body felt full, bloated and overtaxed. In the real word, he was probably twisting around in the sheets so much they were getting tangled. He was probably kicking the Hell out of Julian every time he turned. Served the moron right, it was what he deserved for having such an irritating doppelgänger in Jesse’s dream. 
    “If you admit it, you might wake up…” Julian said again. 
    “I will not, because I don’t like you!” Jesse snarled. “You— You— You drive me— You drive me up a wall. You dimwitted imbecile!” 
    “Hm, looks like that didn’t work…” Julian said. “You’re still here… How much longer do you think you can hold it?” 
    “If you keep this up, the real version of YOU is going to get wet too, you realize?” 
    “Why would that be?” Julian asked. “Is it maybe because you’re cuddling against me?” 
    “N—No,” Jesse said. “Th—The mountains. We live in the mountains. The temperatures are very low, bitingly cold. I get… Chilly easily. So, if we are even within an inch of one another right now, that would be the sole reason for it. I— Ahhh—haaa…” Jesse hissed through his teeth as his bladder gave a thunderous lurch and he nearly let it all go right then and there. 
    “You are running out of time…” Julian noted. “Better hurry up.” 
    “I… I get my sheets damp every night,” Jesse said. “Why should I obey your whims to avoid it this time? I have grown used to it.” 
    “You still want it to stop,” Julian said. “You hate wetting your bed so often.” 
    “I— I do despise it,” Jesse agreed. “But, there is nothing I can do about the situation.” 
    “There might be, at least for tonight…” 
    “Ah— I’ll… I’ll restrain my urges until I wake up,” Jesse decided. “I—“ He bit down on his lip when he felt a pulse of urine seep out. He was sure THAT had happened in the real world too. He felt it too clearly, the damp warmth of his release, the eagerness of his bladder to let the rest out. He didn’t know how much time was left until morning, when his body would hopefully wake up of its own accord. “I… I…” 
    “Yes, Jesse?” 
    “You are… I… I tolerate you, alright?” Jesse blurted out. “I can put up with having you in my presence.” 
    Jesse didn’t wake up. His bladder boiled and surged. His sphincters grew weak and another dribble spurted out. 
    “Err,” Julian made a noise like a gameshow buzzer. “Nope. Try again.” 
    “Fine…” Jesse huffed. This was… This was just a dream. Nothing he did here mattered. Nothing he did here would have consequences. He could say whatever he wanted here and none of it would follow him after he’d woken up! 
    But, then it would be in his brain. It would stay there. This… Realization. This realization that wasn’t so much a realization as it was an acknowledgement. An acknowledgement of something Jesse wanted to stay buried. 
    He loved Julian. 
    He didn’t want to… He didn’t want to have sex with Julian. He’d never wanted that with anybody, the thought made him feel sick to his stomach almost. But, he wanted to spend every day of his life with Julian. And Julian loved him too. Julian loving him was, at first, just a tool to get the other to go along with whatever Jesse wanted, but somehow Jesse had come to return those feelings. 
    It was a shock to his senses. He knew he was CAPABLE of loving another person. He’d loved his Mother, anyway, so the necessary wires were at least THERE in his head. But, how had he managed to end up loving an utter twit like Julian?! 
    It was beneath him! 
    “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Julian asked him. “Say it.” 
    “I… I… I am… In love with you,” Jesse said. 
    “There we go,” Julian said. “I bet you’ll be getting up any minute now…” 
    Jesse did blink himself awake a few seconds later. 
    Immediately, he was feeling between his legs, but a moment later when he registered the immense pressure against his urethra, he realized he’d actually managed to wake up before his sheets got wet…Wait. He’d ACTUALLY managed to wake up before his sheets got wet! He’d done it! Finally! 
    But, he could feel the pee trembling right at the very edge of dripping out and he needed to press his hands very firmly against himself to keep it where it was. When he did that, he felt there WAS actually a little bit of dampness between his thighs. Not a lot. Definitely not the catastrophic drenching he usually woke up with. 
    The problem now was that he wasn’t so sure if he could drag himself to the toilet in time. He may very easily end up with wet sheets anyway! He swore he had to go even worse than he had in the basement that afternoon! “Ohhh…” he moaned involuntarily as he tried to sit up, the action causing the waistband of his pants to strangle his bladder mercilessly. He didn’t dare stop holding himself. 
    He had no idea how he was gonna stand up and walk down the hall like this, and he wished he’d had the foresight to sleep with an empty bottle in his bed. His bladder was splitting apart and wanted to be emptied RIGHT now. 
    
He reminded himself that it was SUCH a short walk to get to what he needed, and slowly, very slowly, set one foot down on the ground. 
    HSSS!
    A jet of pee flowed forth immediately afterward and he pinched his opening shut as he scrambled all the way out of bed. He stood there, curled up on himself and gripping his dick for dear life for several seconds, breathing harshly in and out. Then, he made himself break into a run towards the restroom. He was leaking like crazy the entire way, but he thought trying to get there FAST would give him more of a chance of staying mostly-dry than taking slow, careful steps would. 
    He made it to the door. Relief, finally… He reached out for the knob and turned it. 
    But it didn’t budge. 
    He immediately knocked on it as loud as he could. “Julian!” he shouted at the locked door. “You ignoramus! Get out of there this instant!” 
    “Wha…?” Julian responded tiredly, before a slow trickle could be heard on the other side of the door. 
    Jesse tried not to imagine Julian sleepily sitting on the toilet, his eyes barely open as his bladder drained. He tried not to imagine the relief he must have been feeling. 
    “I am experiencing a cataclysmic plight, Julian!” Jesse said. “I require that room IMMEDIATELY.” 
    More hissing liquid, followed by a yawn. “…Y’mean y’ actually woke up in time?” 
    Jesse fought down the embarrassment as he confirmed that yes, he had. 
    “Okay,” Julian said with another yawn. “Well, I’ll be done in a minute. Sorry, woke up bursting.” 
    Jesse danced in place, certain Julian could not have woken up as desperate for the toilet as he had. Jesse kept alternating between gripping his crotch and trying to pull the waistband of his pants away from his bladder. He wished he had a third hand! He felt more drips spilling out with each passing second, and the sound of Julian’s stream splashing into the bowl was NOT helping him at all. 
    Then, finally, he heard the toilet flush. 
    “Hurry!” Jesse demanded. “Hurry up! I’m— It’s really dire, I’m about to—“ 
    The door finally opened and Julian stumbled out, “Alright already, jeez. It’s all yours.” 
    Jesse hurried in, yanking at his pajama pants as he went. He allowed them to fall around his ankles as he aimed his leaking dick at the bowl and allowed his aching muscles to surrender to the ocean inside his body. “Haaahhhh…..” Pee flowed forth in a long, heavy stream, sloshing loudly into the bowl. 
    He heard snickering. 
    His eyes popped open, and he realized he hadn’t shut the door… And he’d been so eager to go that he’d just dropped his pants all the way to the ground since it was quicker than unbuttoning them. Julian was watching him void relentlessly with his posterior exposed… 
    “Cease your infernal laughter!” Jesse snarled. “And stop spectating!” 
    “You— You just—“ Julian laughed more. “You look like a toddler, pissing like that!” 
    Jesse didn’t know what in the world his dream had been on about. He HATED that little pissant with every fiber of his being! 
    “Aw, Jesus… I’m sorry Jesse,” Julian said. “You just look silly, that’s all… And, holy fuck, how long are you gonna piss for?” 
    Jesse frowned. His bladder still felt pretty full to him… “That is no concern of yours.” 
    “Seriously, Jesse,” Julian said. “That’s a CRAZY amount, I’m just IMPRESSED it didn’t all end up in the bed.” 
    “SILENCE!” Jesse barked. And he most definitely didn’t feel GOOD about Julian sort of… ‘praising’ him for keeping the sheets dry! Not at all! 
    Jesse finally finished after nearly two minutes, and sighed again as he pulled his pants back up. He turned to the sink, scowling in the mirror back at Julian. “Did you NEED to watch through the full duration like that?” 
    “No,” Julian shrugged. 
    “Then, WHY—“ 
    “I was just curious how much was gonna come out.” 
    “You say that as if it’s normal…” 
    “You say THAT as if you don’t torture people in your basement!” 
    Jesse slowly walked back to the bed and laid down. His dream was completely wrong. He did NOT love Julian. Not the teeniest, tiniest bit.
  5. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Omoway in Killer Omorashi   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "Peeing Into A Container".
    ***
    When a clap of thunder tore through the morning sky, Jesse woke up. He was far less successful than he had been the day before. He felt the wet squelch of his soaked pajama bottoms and the cold puddle laying beneath him. The rain outside was really coming down, hissing violently. That sound had probably been a factor in his accident. He groaned, lifted up the sheets. He’d stayed on top of his protective cover, so none of his liquids had stained the bed.He still really needed to change, though. 
    Julian was already awake, and Jesse ignored him as he got out of bed and stripped out of his damp clothes. He briefly registered that his accomplice was fidgeting, but ignored that. It wasn’t important. The idiot was probably uncomfortable because he’d forgotten how to blink or something equally as asinine. 
    Julian watched as Jesse got changed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… Maybe just keep the wet ones on,” he suggested. 
    “And for what purpose would I do that?” Jesse muttered under his breath. A flash of lightning bolted from outside, and the way it lit up the room made Jesse look even more irritated than usual.
    Julian jiggled on the spot. “Uhh… Because… Er… Last night, I couldn’t sleep, and so I started thinking of ways someone could escape from the basement. And I thought, maybe if they had a wire coat hanger, they could push it out from underneath the door and hit the button to unlock it from the other side. But, I didn’t know if that would work, so I decided to test it out, and see if I could hit the lock button for the bathroom with an un-bent wire hanger, and—“ 
    “Julian, is the bathroom door locked from the inside right now?” 
    “… What happens if I say ‘yes’?” 
    Jesse just stared at him. “I— I do not even know where to begin with you right now. First of all, how would one of our victims manage to untie themselves to get to the door to start with?” 
    “Uh…” 
    “We tested the ropes not too long ago,” Jesse reminded. “If I couldn’t escape from them with as hard as I was fighting, no one else can. Second, where would they obtain a wire coat hanger from?” 
    “Well…” 
    “Third, even if our victim was able to get out of the ropes and find a coat hanger in this fantasy-land you’ve constructed, the alarm would go off the second the door opened and we would both be there to handle the breach.” 
    “Oh, right—“ 
    “Finally, what would possess you to attempt this little experiment upon the restroom door if you were not one hundred percent certain you’d be able to get it unlocked again afterwards?” 
    “I— I thought I knew where the key was!” Julian stammered. “Just in case! I was sure it was in our nightstand, but it wasn’t there!” 
    Jesse pulled on a new pair of dry pants and zipped them. “I suggest you relocate it, then. Otherwise, after you inevitably soil yourself, I will be forcing you to remain in your sodden clothing for the remainder of the day.” 
    Julian grumbled as he threw the nightstand drawer open again. “Yeah, well the joke’ll be on you, ‘cause you’ll have to smell me…” 
    “What was that?” 
    “Nothing, Jesse…” Julian kept pawing through the nightstand. He thought about arguing further, pointing out that it would be easier to find things if Jesse cleaned up every once in a while. He didn’t want to push his luck anymore, though. He still didn’t know if Jesse was serious about making him wander around in pissed pants all day if he were to have an accident. 
    Was he gonna have an accident? He’d eventually fallen asleep after his experiment with the door, and had woken up once needing to go, only to remember the toilet wasn’t available anymore. All of that was still in him, and the rest of his morning pee was trapped as well. He did seriously need to go, but felt confident he could wait longer. Still, he didn’t really WANT to wait… “I’m gonna go piss outside,” Julian announced. 
    “You aren’t,” Jesse corrected. 
    “Yes I am,” Julian said. “I have to go!” 
    “Julian, are you somehow missing the typhoon outside?” Jesse asked. “You go out there, and you’ll get executed by a bolt of lightning.” He folded his arms. “So, by all means, go put yourself out of MY misery if you wish, but I still wouldn’t advise it.” 
    Julian sighed. Jesse was right, it was dangerous to go outdoors right now. He knew Jesse was trying to tell him to stay safe, in his own… special way. Julian kept searching for the key. 
    About an hour passed before Jesse’s bladder started to act up. And, like always, it did not come on gradually. It instead came all at once, pressure slamming into him and making him cross his legs. “Oooh…” he winced. Why did it work like this for him!? He’d felt fine five seconds ago! Where did all this pee even COME from? It felt like it had all just been teleported into him from some outside source! 

If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Julian had somehow transported all of his urine into him out of spite. Not only was that completely impossible, but Julian was also still squirming around as he lifted the couch cushions in search of the key. 
    Jesse’s hips swayed as he joined Julian in the squirming. He tried to think dry thoughts, and to put the idea of emptying his bladder out of his mind. This didn’t work, the sharp point of need pressing against his opening demanded his full attention. 
    Julian turned around to look at him. “Why don’t we just call the locksmith to fix the door?” 
    “Julian…” Jesse sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. “Did you somehow manage to lose even more of your very limited supply of brain cells while I wasn’t looking?” 
    “Huh?” 
    “We have a torture chamber in our basement,” Jesse stated. 
    “So…?” 
    “So, we can’t invite people in and allow them to wander around.” 
    “But, he’ll just be looking at the door,” Julian shrugged. “It’ll be fine.” 
    Jesse groaned, “We can’t know that for sure. What if he needs a tool and assumes we have one in the basement? Then, he’ll go down there, see everything, and I’ll have to tie him down and set to work, and I would prefer not to do something so strenuous when I’m needing to micturate.” 
    Julian stared at Jesse’s wriggling for a moment. “O—Oh, right. Micturate means ‘piss’!” 
    “Yes, Julian… That is exactly what it means. Good boy,” Jesse rolled his eyes, hopping fretfully. 
    “And, I guess you gotta do it too now?” 
    Jesse wanted to slam his head into a wall. Or maybe just Julian’s head. Perhaps that would fix his brain some. “Congratulations, you have a very impeccable grasp of the obvious.” 
    Julian smiled, “Thank you!”
    Jesse sucked in his cheeks, hissed a long breath out through his clenched teeth. “Ssssoo,” he said finally. “It would seem we are not going to be able to find that key in time.” 
    Julian shrugged. “Eh, I mean, I gotta go bad. But, I can probably hang on a couple more hours, I think.” 
    Jesse’s bladder flipped over on itself at the thought of hours. When it was full, it was FULL, and it didn’t have ‘hours’ to wait. He crossed his legs around the other way and dug his nails into his thighs. “That is quite wonderful for you, Julian. However, I am experiencing quite the urgent situation now.” 
    “Seriously? You didn’t even NEED to go when you got up!” Julian said. “And, I’ve seen how much you piss, it’s not like you’ve got a tiny bladder.” 
    “My body behaves in strange ways at times,” Jesse said. “But, that is not of your concern. Fetch me my sharpest blade, I’ll handle this.” 
    “Um… Jesse,” Julian said. “I know I’m a few sandwiches short of a full deck—“ 
    “Mixing up your idioms there, idiot—“ 
    “—But even I don’t think you can STAB the door open,” Julian finished. 
    “I merely need to gouge a large enough hole to fit my hand through,” Jesse explained. “Then I can unlock the door from the other side.” 
    “And then we have a big hole in the bathroom door forever,” Julian said. 
    “We are the only two that use it,” Jesse pointed out. He knew this wasn’t one of his better ideas, it was going to make an awful mess, and he’d probably get splinters fitting his hand through the hole, but his bladder was urging him to latch onto anything that offered even the smallest hope for relief. 
    “Really, Jesse,” Julian said. “If you think the key’s a lost cause, you’re really good at pick—“ 
    “Wait, hold on,” Jesse said. “I am a master at lock-picking, all we need to find is a paper-clip. See, Julian? There’s a brilliant idea.”
    “Er… Yeah. Glad you thought of it…” Julian said. Hopefully, a paper-clip would be easier to find than the key had been. 
    As Jesse waited for Julian to return with the clip, his bladder rapidly expanded. He could hardly believe he was this full already, considering the ocean he’d pumped into his pajamas during the night. He should have been throughly wrung dry after gushing all THAT out. Apparently, though, his bladder ALWAYS had more to give, whether he actually had a place to give it TO or not. 
    
Jesse impatiently bobbed in place. How long did it take to find a stupid paper-clip? If HE was searching for it, it would have been retrieved by now! He should go show Julian how it was done… Except, well… Jesse couldn’t exactly move around too well at the moment. His bladder was cradled painfully between his hip bones, and the little jiggly motions that he couldn’t help performing were bouncing it in a way that was just painful. Walking needed to be kept to an absolute minimum until he’d managed to get himself empty. 
    He wanted to STOP all the anxious hopping since he’d realized it wasn’t making it any easier for him to hold on. It was, in fact, doing the opposite; Sloshing the contents of his desperately full bladder and making the liquid crash down hard against his sphincters. Except, every time Jesse managed to hold still for a second, he’d begin subconsciously jiggling again a second later, and then he was back to hopping up and down not long after that. 
    A surge of heat bloomed down his length, scorched through his urethra and soaked painfully into the dry pants he’d JUST put on. He doubled over and gnashed his teeth, hands tucking themselves against his groin for some badly needed support. He felt another leak right at the very edge of spilling forth, his squeezing grew tighter and tighter, and he couldn’t let go, he really couldn’t… The sound of the rain outside wasn’t helping at all! He wished he could stab all the clouds and make them shut up! 
    “Jesse!” Julian said happily. “Found a paper-clip!” 
    Jesse’s eyes opened, he stared at the clip in Julian’s hand. “G—Great,” he breathed out, surprised by the honesty in his tone. 
    Julian was staring at him, “Oh, wow… It got bad while I was gone, huh?” 
    “S—Silence…” Jesse ordered. “I do not need your commentary. Give me the paper-clip.” 
    Julian held it out, and Jesse reached for it, a spurt shooting in to his boxers the second he’d released one of his hands from his dick. His hand darted back into position, pressing away. “Ahhh—-!” 
    “Can you not move your hands?” Julian asked. 
    Jesse shook his head. “I— I’m afraid that I begin to… Experience a slight lack of control, if I—“ 
    “You’re peeing yourself a little?” 
    Jesse said nothing, but his blush was all the answer Julian needed. 
    “That’s okay! I’ll pick the lock!” Julian stared at the paper-clip for a second, then tried to shove it into the key-hole. 
    “J—Julian…” Jesse grunted. He felt like the piss was already in his dick, ready to slide out… A drip oozed forth into his boxers, and then another. “Y—You absolute buffoon—“ 
    Julian grinned. “Be nice, or maybe I won’t help…” 
    “Ah—!” Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and stomped his feet. He supposed he could be— He shuddered from a lot more than just desperation— ‘nice’, if it got him some relief. “Julian, you… Remarkable human being, I am afraid you must unbend the paper-clip first.” 
    Julian followed Jesse’s instructions, until he was left with a long, thin wire. “Okay!” he said, shoving it into the key-hole and turning it. Nothing happened, of course. 
    Jesse watched Julian’s feeble progress. “Th—That’s not—“ A long, long stream of pee slicked its way down Jesse’s right leg, and it took over three seconds of painful contorting and squeezing to make it stop. And then he was dripping more, and it just wouldn’t end. His eyes shot wide open as the icy realization that he couldn’t hold it struck him. “Ahh— I— I must— Wait here!” he exclaimed, rushing off. 
    He went to the kitchen, looking every which way for something— ANYTHING— that would suffice for his horrid situation. A— A bottle— He needed— 
    He tore the fridge door open. There were some full water bottles— He’d have to empty those before he could— He’d explode if he had to watch water pour down the sink, he needed— 
    There was also a mostly empty milk jug, it was almost down to the dregs. It was a gallon jug, so even with the little bit of milk in there, there was PROBABLY enough room— He was already unzipping his pants. 
    “Jesse, who the fuck pisses in a fridge?” Julian asked, standing in the kitchen doorway, wide-eyed as Jesse unzipped himself in front of the fridge. 
    “I’m NOT,” Jesse snapped, reaching for the milk jug now and uncapping it. He held it at crotch-level and fished out his dribbling penis. He registered how small the opening on the jug was when his stream exploded out of him and quite a bit ran down the plastic sides and over his hand, he gasped and panted ecstatically, hardly caring about the little misfire as he corrected himself. 
    “Oh, come on, at least empty it the rest of the way first…” Julian groaned. “I was gonna drink that…”
    “Silence…” Jesse breathed, relief flowing all over him as his urine jetted into the jug. It produced an extremely loud rattling noise as it splashed into the hard plastic receptacle. It was loud enough to overpower the storm outside. “Ahhhh…” 
    Julian squirmed, seeing Jesse go was reminding him of how full he still was. He swayed from foot to foot. “Almost done?” he asked, hopeful that Jesse would pick the lock on the door once he was finished. 
    Jesse shook his head, eyes closing gently and mouth falling slack. “N—Not even close…” he said. 
    “Could you hurry?” Julian requested. “I still have to—“ 
    “It is your fault I needed to restrain myself for so long this morning,” Jesse interrupted. “You get to wait now.” His stream slowed for a second; Pee drooled from his tip, flowing steadily into the ocean he’d already let out. Then, his release increased in its speed again, hissing and sloshing and making him shiver so much he almost dropped the jug on the floor. He held onto it tight and managed to prevent a catastrophic mess. 
    At last, he was done, and the jug was looking pretty full. He hadn’t gotten it up to the top, but he’d managed to increase the water-level to a little beyond the half-way point. He set it onto the table. 
    Julian cringed, both because Jesse had decided to place it against a surface they ATE off of, and because he would have preferred to go his entire life without knowing what pee mixed with milk looked like. 
    “Ahhh…” Jesse sighed again, tucking his member back into his slightly damp pants and zipping them. 
    Julian scowled, crossing his legs. “Better now?” 
    “Yes, much relieved,” Jesse replied. He yawned. “I think I need more sleep n—“ 
    “Jesse, no! Pick the lock, please? I need to go, too!” 
    Jesse shrugged. “Use the jug. It is your own fault this is happening.” 
    Julian looked at the jug. “There’s not enough room left in it now!” 
    “Pour it out down the sink.” 
    “That’s— We wash food in that sink, Jesse!” 
    “Ah. Well then, I suppose you are going to have to restrain your bladder until I feel more up to handling the—“ 
    Julian grabbed Jesse, “If you don’t pick the lock for me, I am going to pour that jug out over your head! And then, I’ll get rid of the paper-clip so you can’t shower after!” 
    Jesse patted Julian on the top of the head. “You wouldn’t do that…” 
    “Try me.” 
    Jesse sighed, “Oh, alright,” he said. “I guess you have had enough punishment now.” He took the paper-clip from Julian, and then he had the door open in a matter of minutes. 
    Julian rushed in and unloaded his bladder, moaning happily to himself, the door still wide open. 
    “You know, you could have shut the door,” Jesse pointed out. 
    “You just pissed in the middle of our kitchen,” Julian reminded. “Oh, God… This feels good!” 
    “It was your decision to watch me do that.” 
    “… You’re watching NOW!” 
    Jesse faced the other way. “I’m not any longer,” he said. He turned back around, now staring at Julian again. “Also, if you ever mess with the lock again, you are going to receive a worse punishment than simply being made to restrain your urine.”
  6. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Omoway in Killer Omorashi   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "I Told You So".
    ***
    Jesse could think of dozens of places he would rather be right now. The bowels of Hell, the WRONG side of his ‘operating table’, a lion’s den… Physical pain was one thing, but prolonged annoyance was quite another.
    Why Julian had decided to drag him to this stupid carnival was BEYOND him. Julian KNEW he hated things like this; Things with lots of people, and noise, and people, and disgusting food, and people… Yet, Julian had insisted that they visit this place anyway. Julian insisted it would be fun. So far, it hadn’t been.
    It was hot enough to melt the ever-present chill in Jesse’s body, and he was coming to realize that he hated being overheated even more than he hated being cold. It was so loud, people chattering and screaming— And not even the GOOD kind of screaming, either. No, instead it was the kind of nonsensical screaming idiots performed when they wanted to make themselves the center of attention for the entertainment of their equally moronic friends.
    Jesse was also starving. There were items here that were allegedly edible, but Jesse thought that was probably a lie. None of it resembled food that was of this Earth, and Jesse was sure that one bite would shave years off his remaining life-span. Not one word in the phrase ‘deep-friend butter on a stick’ was the least bit appetizing. When Julian decided to procure this item, the sight of it was nauseating.
    “Don’t they serve any food here?” Jesse asked eventually.
    “Yeah,” Julian said. “Of course they do, I’ve been eating all day.”
    “You have been consuming copious amounts of garbage, yes,” Jesse said. “However, I would prefer something edible.”
    Julian shrugged, “I think it’s tasty,” he said. “Come on, aren’t you having ANY fun?”
    “Yeah,” Jesse said. “The people here really remind me of why the work I do is so important.”
    “Jesse…” Julian sighed. “We’re taking the day off. You should enjoy it. Let’s play some games.”
    Jesse rolled his eyes. Julian had already wasted close to a hundred dollars trying, and failing, to win a cheap plush tiger by way of hurling tennis balls at stacks of glass bottles which Jesse was PRETTY sure had been superglued together. “You do realize we need money for important things, don’t you? Like sustenance.”
    “Having fun’s important,” Julian said. “I dunno what a sustenance is, but I’m sure we have enough of those at home.”
    “Which reminds me, perhaps we should go there,” Jesse suggested. His stomach growled loudly.
    “At least DRINK something,” Julian said. “So that you’re not totally empty.” 

“Fine…” Jesse said. He doubted that the drinks could be anywhere near as revolting as the ‘food’. At the least, he knew it would be difficult for them to turn plain water into anything disgusting.
    He was wrong. The demons working this place had somehow devised a way to deep-fry water into some grotesque little round nuggets. The biggest mystery was not HOW they had done it, but WHY.
    Julian got him a cup of lemonade, which Jesse sampled and found satisfactory. It was just normal lemonade, no special ‘additions’ designed to send people to an early grave… Come to think of it, maybe Jesse should get some of the recipes used here, even if he had no intention of ever eating any of them.
    The lemonade tasted good, and it made Jesse feel better to have SOMETHING inside his stomach, so he kept drinking it, and even re-filled the cup a few times before Julian finally decided that he’d had enough and was ready to leave.
    “It is about time,” Jesse said. “How you have managed to stay entertained for this long is beyond me.”
    They headed towards the exit. Just beside it, they passed by a row of portable toilets “Wait, hang on,” Julian said. “I should pee before we leave.” Eyeing the once-more empty cup in Jesse’s hands, he added “You should too. Those cups are big, and you re-filled it, like, four times.”
    Jesse felt no need to relieve himself, especially if doing so would require him to use a portable toilet. He’d been disgusted enough for one day, he didn’t need first-hand knowledge of the havoc the revolting carnival food wreaked on a person’s digestive tract. He was aware that it would take them a while to get home, but his bladder felt perfectly fine. Even when he rubbed a hand over his lower belly to make sure, he didn’t feel much there. Maybe a small throb, but nothing to be concerned by.
    “That is quite unnecessary, Julian,” Jesse said.
    Julian gave him a skeptical look, “You always say that,” he pointed out. “Are you sure?”
    “I am sure,” Jesse sighed. “Now, make haste. I want to get home.”
    Jesse waited off to the side as Julian went to relieve himself. His stomach growled again. He was so hungry that he doubted he’d be able to feel anything else. No matter how full his bladder got, his desire for food would continue to outweigh it, to block it out. He saw no reason to worry about making it home in time. He was more likely to pass out from starvation than he was to wet his pants.
    When Julian returned several minutes later, Jesse grumbled at him to hurry up once again. He was beyond done with this place. He needed food, his bed, and something to deal with the enormous headache he was now enduring.
    Unfortunately, his wait was far from over. This asinine carnival wasn’t close to their house. They’d have to reach the bus stop, endure a couple hours on board it, then walk the last couple blocks home. Hopefully Jesse could endure that without his head exploding from the ungodly pulses firing through it.
    He felt a little better once they’d left the carnival and all its noises behind. His throbbing headache faded slightly, at the exact moment something ELSE started to throb instead.
    Why…
    He’d felt absolutely ZERO need for the facilities a few minutes ago, and now his bladder was searing. Why did this always happen? Why couldn’t it give him a little bit of WARNING, like other people’s bladders seemed to do for them?! He had to go really badly all of the sudden!
    They passed a few stores along the way to the bus stop, stores which Jesse knew would have restrooms. His bladder tried to persuade him to stop at each one, urging him NOT to try holding it all the way home, when his need was already so pressing.
    However, urinating now would give Julian the opportunity to say “I told you so.” Julian didn’t GET to say that to Jesse very often, and he relished every chance he had, taking so much delight in it that he’d continue to bring it up weeks after the fact. “Jesse, remember that one time that I was right, and you were wrong?”
    Jesse supposed that, since it was so RARE for Julian to be correct about anything, it only made sense for him to be proud of the rare occasions that he actually was. But, Jesse didn’t want to grant him that joy.
    Luckily, it was very easy for Jesse to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t necessitate him admitting that his vexatious bladder had decided to sneak up on him again. “Alright,” he said. “Seeing as we are passing by facilities that aren’t quite so heinously ghastly, I suppose I WILL relieve myself before we head home.”
    Julian gave him an odd look, “But, you can’t,” he said.
    “You intend to stop me?” Jesse quirked a brow. “The bus comes every twenty minutes, if you recall. We won’t be stranded.”
    “It’s not that,” Julian shrugged. “It’s just, you know, the stores aren’t open today ‘cause of the carnival.”
    Jesse finally noticed that the lights were off inside the buildings they were walking by. Feeling his face heating, he scoffed, “I— I knew that! I was planning to pick the lock.”
    “Just to pee?” Julian asked. “If you gotta go THAT bad, we should just go back, and you can—“
    “I don’t need to go THAT bad,” Jesse insisted. “I can wait until we arrive at home.”
    Julian eyed him up and down, and Jesse paid careful attention to the way he was standing. Apart from his legs being pressed together a little too closely, he didn’t think he looked desperate.
    “Alright…” Julian said. “If you’re sure.”
    They reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench together. Jesse’s foot was inclined to start bouncing immediately. He squeezed a hand around his knee to keep himself still. His bladder was surging, pressure radiating around the base of his cock. How much lemonade had he consumed? The cup had been humongous, he’d re-filled it so many times. He knew more of it would be arriving in his bladder soon, stretching it out further.
    He tensed his thighs, squeezing and relaxing his muscles rhythmically. Such a subtle motion was unlikely to be noticed by his companion, but the pressure nipping at his tip was making him desire to move around much more.
    Just as Jesse was starting to think that a nearby bush could use a good watering, more people started to gather at the bus stop, nixing that option completely. He pictured himself getting booked for public urination, and the arresting officers discovering his more serious crimes once he was on their radar. He intended to go down in history as one of the most brutal serial killers to ever live, for his torture methods to strike fear into all who learned of them for generations to come. The last thing he wanted was to forever be known as the serial killer that was only caught thanks to a desperate need to micturate.
    He could hold it.
    The bus arrived and Jesse stood, his bladder protesting the motion with a few hearty throbs that forced his thighs to grind together. ‘Restraint,’ Jesse told himself. Julian was not allowed to discover how much he needed to go.
    Once they were both on board, Julian turned to Jesse and asked “Didn’t you have at least a LITTLE fun today?”
    Jesse sighed, “That one man we saw getting off the Tilt-a-Whirl regurgitated his stomach’s contents for one hundred and thirty two consecutive seconds before getting back in line to ride again,” he said. “I suppose that was mildly fascinating.”
    Julian frowned, “That’s the only part you liked?”
    “I did not say I enjoyed it,” Jesse corrected. “If anything, it left me feeling quite perplexed. Why would a person CHOOSE to board such a ride after consuming so many grotesque ‘food’ items? Do they find merriment in making themselves ill?”
    “I dunno man,” Julian said. “That ride was so cool, though! It went so fast, I couldn’t tell which way was up by the time it was over! Almost barfed all over myself, too, it was awesome! You should have tried it!”
    Jesse sighed. As the bus lurched forwards, his bladder lurched along with it, dragging his attention back towards an issue that was far more pressing than Julian’s immense idiocy. They were seated towards the back of the bus, which ensured Jesse felt each bump in the road very clearly. The liquid inside of him was getting shaken up like a soda can, splashing from side to side within his bladder and burning its aching, stretched walls.
    He tensed his legs up again, trying to pinch his opening shut in between his straining thighs. His hands rested madly atop his knees, gripping them tightly to prevent them from bouncing. He recalled how long the ride OUT here had lasted, and anticipated that this journey would feel as though it were twice the length.
    The bus was going to make several stops along the route, of course. Many of those stops would be near places with public toilets. Jesse supposed if his need got too extreme, he could always go during a stop rather than waiting all the way home.
    He pictured himself springing up and sprinting off the bus, muttering an order for Julian to follow. “Certain pressing matters cannot be put off any longer, Julian, a break is required immediately.” Julian would follow him obediently, but he’d also laugh and say “I told you so!”
    Jesse would rather hold it until his teeth began to float…
    So, when the bus made its first stop, Jesse did not rise to his feet. Instead, he shut his eyes against the opened doorway, and let his ankles rub subtly together. It did nothing to quell the rising tide of his bladder. And, his brain— usually his most faithful asset— was betraying him as well. With his eyes closed, he kept envisioning himself in front of a urinal, voiding himself dry. The image was fretfully tantalizing, and it looked so real in his mind’s eye. Like, he actually WAS in a bathroom, his zip apart, letting it flow.
    He snapped out of it when the bus started to move again, and shamefully flexed his thigh muscles to check for any dampness around his crotch. He was dry, thankfully. The fantasy hadn’t gotten THAT intense.
    They hit another speed-bump, sending Jesse’s bladder careening upwards, until he could almost feel the pressure in the back of his throat. He anxiously crossed one leg over the other, praying that it looked casual, and not like he was trying to ward off a leak that was building up just behind his opening.
    His attempts to quell the spurt failed, and a warm dribble started to bead into his boxers. He felt his tip growing hot and slick as the liquid spilled out over it. He tightened his legs and managed to staunch the dismal flow, but now the wet spot in his boxers acted as a cruel tease on his bladder— Reminding it that it had been slowly emptying just a second ago, and wouldn’t it feel nice to do that again?
    Jesse adjusted his position again once he felt like he’d gotten back enough control to be able to move. His legs were wrapped around one another, thighs rubbing and hands gripping the edge of his seat.
    Julian was watching him, “Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t go on the Tilt-a-Whirl,” he decided. “You’re looking kinda sick just from the bus… You wanna get out for some fresh air next time we stop? I don’t mind if it takes longer to get home.”
    Jesse glowered, but after a moment of consideration, realized Julian was being genuine. He really DID just think Jesse was car-sick. The fool was much too stupid to be subtle, so if he HAD realized that Jesse was eager for a toilet break, he would have loudly said something like; “Jesse, you gotta pee real bad, don’t you? You look like you’re gonna wet your pants any second now! Try your best to hold it until the next stop!”
    Jesse shrugged in response to Julian’s offer. He did very much want to get off the bus at the next stop, but fresh air was the furthest thing from his mind. Once they got off, and Jesse mentioned that he actually just really needed the bathroom, Julian would be able to use that most dreaded phrase “I told you so.”
    “I am fine, Julian,” Jesse said. “I will feel better once we reach home and I am able to eat.” His hunger had been taking a backseat to his bladder for ages now, but the emptiness in his stomach was still difficult to ignore. He wished some of the liquid in his bladder could be moved THERE. His stomach had PLENTY of room.
    Ugh, his brain was broken… The lack of food was making him stupid, and the need to empty himself was just exacerbating it, speeding up his loss of brain-cells. If he didn’t urinate soon, he was probably going to turn into Julian.
    The bus stopped again, and Jesse stayed where he was. His bladder was currently cramping in the throes of a major spasm, so he couldn’t have gotten up if he wanted to. His hands were resting atop his thighs now, inching closer and closer to his crotch. He knew how good a nice, long squeeze would feel, how satisfying it would be to start preventing his flood by manual means. The small ring of muscle blocking off his bladder was seriously trembling, pleading for some reinforcement.
    He cringed and palmed his dick for a second when the bus resumed its path down the street. He glanced surreptitiously at Julian to make sure he hadn’t been watching, then tried to adjust his pants a little, attempting to get his waist-band to stop cutting into his bladder so relentlessly.
    The next stop would be theirs, Jesse’s torment would be near its end soon.
    Unfortunately, now that he was able to look out the window and see familiar sights, count off the number of blocks that were remaining, the needful surges beneath his fly were worsening at a rapid pace. And, his ability to conceal his desperation was deteriorating. That first, half-second grab at himself hadn’t been enough. He wanted— No, NEEDED— to wrap his member up in a real, firm grip. His hands just kept fluttering around his midsection, palms clammy with the desire to make contact.
    He told himself he could wait, that it wouldn’t be much longer now. But, his body protested. There was just so much in him. If the pressure kept rising like it had been doing since the start of the ride, he would eventually be using his pants as a urinal. His hands finally made contact, but not with his crotch. He’d instead rested them tentatively over his lower stomach, dismayed by how hard and firm it felt. His skin was pulled taut with his massive need to pee. It was like an over-ripe melon that was about to burst open.
    The weight of his hands against his bladder was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was like his bladder was caught in a vice. He uncrossed his legs and crossed them again in the other direction. He felt raw and vulnerable and so needy. He felt like he was being split apart. Finally, he felt a warm spot forming in his boxers, and he felt it growing steadily as he peed. He wasn’t just dribbling or leaking, he was peeing, he was letting go a thick, consistent stream, and for a second it was such a relief to be going at all that he almost didn’t react.
    When he fully registered what was happening, he responded by bending over so far that his forehead brushed the edge of the seat between his knees, squeezing himself roughly with both hands. The flow was stemmed, but now his bladder was trapped in the throes of some tremendously awful spasms, and his opening felt like it had been lit on fire then rubbed in pepper flakes. He wanted to keep peeing, he wanted to continue relieving himself, he just wanted to go…
    The shock of nearly losing it like that had made him temporarily forget about Julian. He remembered his companion when the idiot chose to speak, though. “Jesse, you really ARE car-sick, huh?”
    Jesse was breathing heavily, every inhale a choppy gasp. He was glad he was folded over so much, Julian couldn’t see where his hands were. Julian couldn’t say ‘I told you so’. Julian couldn’t— Ah!— Jesse suddenly felt something warm and heavy moving up and down his trembling spine. It startled him enough for another squirt of pee to burst out, but once he got used to the sensation, he relaxed slightly, but only for a second.
    Julian was touching him. Julian was touching him without being instructed to do so first. Furthermore, the WAY he was touching him felt far more intimate than anything Jesse was used to. Sure, sometimes they woke up pressed together since they shared a bed, but that was different, that happened accidentally while they were both asleep. This was deliberate, and Jesse wasn’t supposed to like it.
    But, it was soothing him, it was calming the raging tide inside his bladder, it was making him feel more like he could actually hold it until he got home. That was probably just because the touch of another person was keeping him grounded, forcing him to stay in the moment and be aware of his surroundings, so that he didn’t lose himself to the world of desperation again. That was all it was.
    “We’ll be home soon,” Julian said. “It’s okay.”
    Jesse hoped so. His member now felt chafed from rubbing against his damp clothes. He wanted the toilet, a shower, some food, and some rest. He just wanted to go home, and then he’d never let Julian drag him out like this again.
    Julian kept rubbing his back, all along the little knots of tension in his spine. He kept that up until the bus finally stopped again and they were able to get off. “Alright,” Julian encouraged. “We’re here, almost home. You’ll feel better once we start walking.”
    Oh. Right… They still had to walk the last couple streets home. Jesse knew that he was NOT going to feel better once they’d started walking. He was going to feel a whole lot worse. Not only was he going to have to carefully plan each of his steps to avoid upsetting the precarious balance of his bladder, he was also going to have to ACT like he didn’t have to go. The huddled position he was in now allowed him to grab his crotch and squeeze it for dear life without Julian noticing. That wasn’t going to work once they were outside. If he held himself, Julian would see. Julian would know.
    Jesse slowly and carefully got to his feet, hopeful that any swaying or jiggling would look more like he was still recovering from his ‘car-sickness’. Julian didn’t say anything, so he assumed it did. As he wobbled off of the bus, he no longer felt the liquid inside of him was sloshing. His bladder was likely too full for that to happen now, there was not even the smallest bit of empty space left in it now, his urine didn’t have the ROOM to slosh.
    Once outside the bus, Jesse tried to walk normally. That lasted for about three seconds before his crammed to the brim bladder pulsed SO hard that he was sent doubling over, mashing his hands back against his groin. “Mmmff…” he moaned, stomping his feet against the sidewalk.
    Julian watched. Of course he watched. Jesse couldn’t expect the moron to look away, to realize that Jesse might not appreciate being STARED at right now. “Do you have to use the bathroom really bad?”
    Jesse rolled his eyes. Why was that even a question?! There were very few reasons he’d be clasping himself like this… Jesse couldn’t think of any other purpose his furious grasping could have— Yes, he had to use the bathroom really bad! He needed to go so much that he couldn’t breathe, and the liquid that was seeping slowly into his boxers did so little to lessen his urge that he was barely noticing it!
    “I guess that’s why you were acting so funny…” Julian said.
    Jesse began to walk again, still clutching himself and commanding his body to hang on until he got home. Home was just ten minutes away, but those minutes needed to move faster. He just had to get home. He was grinding against his clenched palms for all he was worth in an effort to keep his bladder plugged closed. And, Julian’s asinine comments weren’t helping. The moron could not possibly get more irksome…
    “I told you so,” Julian remarked. “I told you, you should have gone before we left.”
    Jesse grimaced. Julian wasn’t helping. Neither was the cool evening air that was rushing against him as he stumbled awkwardly down the sidewalk. It was awful. He needed to release his urine. It had to come out so badly. His stomach ached. He wasn’t sure if that was thanks to his tearing-apart bladder or the day’s starvation. “Silence…” he growled.
    “I’m just saying…” Julian shrugged. “You must have needed to go back there, you should have just done it.”
    “I had no urge…” Jesse insisted. And, he hadn’t! It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t his bladder EVER give him a warning? He legitimately just hadn’t needed to go back at the carnival, but he sure did NOW. If he waited much longer, he wondered if he might faint from the intense pain. Some of his test subjects in the basement had done that before, and THIS agony currently tearing through him must have been approaching that level by now.
    Finally, they arrived home. Jesse rushed up to the door and squirmed impatiently while he waited for Julian to unlock it. Why had he trusted that moron with the keys? If he’d managed to lose them today—
    Julian hadn’t lost them, he pulled them from his pocket and shoved the house-key into the lock. He twisted it around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, only to be met with the same results.
    Jesse danced from foot to foot. He was certain that his desperation was far worse than any person was ever meant to feel, “Julian!” He exclaimed. “Open the door at once! I— I can’t withstand the pressure much longer!”
    “It won’t open!” Julian whined. “I’m trying!” He jiggled the doorknob again, and when the door STILL failed to open, Jesse had had enough.
    “V—Very well, then!” Jesse snapped. Julian watched as his companion’s hands moved up to unfasten his zipper, he shuffled behind the overgrown bushes lining the front of the house, pulling his pants down and crouching behind them.
    Jesse didn’t think he could be seen in this position, if he squatted, he was completely hidden by the bushes. No one on the street or the sidewalk would spot him. And, if anyone did, he intended to bark at them that this was HIS yard and he could water it however he pleased.
    Julian COULD see him, though. From his vantage point on the porch, he could see back behind the bushes fairly clearly. Jesse was aware of that and shut his eyes, trying to ignore him as he released. A small trickle pattered out into the dirt. Jesse’s bladder was so full that it took him a second to even realize that it had begun to empty. He whimpered softly and pushed down, finally peeing a strong stream.
    The ocean being ejected into the dirt hissed and splattered violently. It took a bit before the spray even made a dent in his bladder, and he remained stuck in a confusing mixture of desperation and relief until something in him seemed to snap and start deflating. Then, he moaned in total relief. “Ohhhh….”
    Julian felt really funny watching Jesse in that moment. It was something to do with the noises he was making, the fact he was bottomless, and the exact position he was in. Crouching like that, legs spread and giving such a clear view of his dick, panting and gasping so loudly… It was kind of animalistic in a way, primitive. Very much unlike how Jesse typically behaved. His appearance now was completely contrary to his obsession with being viewed as more intelligent and superior to everyone.
    It was interesting to see Jesse give in to such a human need like this…
    Jesse eventually emptied out enough that, while he was still peeing ferociously, he was no longer completely dazed by his relief. He was more aware of what he was doing, and of how exposed he was. He saw Julian staring directly at his most private area and scowled. He’d been nude around Julian before, but this time Julian was more fixated on his body parts than he usually was.
    When he had finally rid himself of every last drop, he stood and pulled his pants back up over his hips, concealing his groin with his hand as he did so, not that it particularly mattered anymore. He came back out from behind the bushes, “I guess if the lock is malfunctioning, we’ll have to try to go around the back.”
    Julian stuffed the key into the lock again and twisted it. This time, with his mind so much clearer, Jesse was able to get a better look at what he was doing.
    No… There was just no way…
    “Julian, you complete and utter… Emperor of the dunces!” Jesse exclaimed. “You are turning the key the wrong way!”
    “Oh…” Julian said. “Is that what’s wrong?”
    Jesse tore the key from his hand, stuck it in the lock and turned it the CORRECT way. The door opened perfectly easily after that. “I need to study you,” Jesse mumbled. “I must learn how it is possible for a human to remain alive with zero functional brain cells.”
  7. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Omoway in Killer Omorashi   
    Like the last few stories I've posted, this was originally written using characters from a non-kink book I've written. So, name-changes were made and the setting was kept vague to keep it from being recognizable, I hope the vagueness does not distract from the desperation content.
    As a warning, the characters appearing in this one are from a horror/comedy book that I wrote; They are serial killers and, while there will not be any graphic violence or murder here, there will be references to it. So, if that’s not your cup of tea, you can skip this one.
    *** 
    “Okay,” Julian declared as he twisted the final knot around Jesse’s wrist. “That should hold you… How much time do you want me to give you down here?” 
    Jesse considered it. The ropes binding his legs together and keeping his arms behind his back were uncomfortable and he didn’t want to be in them for long. But, they were supposed to cause discomfort, and he needed enough time in them to ensure a person wouldn’t be able to free themselves from the rope they’d chosen, or the knots they’d learned to tie. “A couple hours,” Jesse answered. 
    Julian gave him a quizzical look, “Really? That lon—“ 
    “We can’t have one of our subjects escape,” Jesse said. “I have to make extra certain that such an act would be impossible.” 
    “Well…” Julian looked down at his feet. “if you’re sure, I guess… I’ll go get some stuff at the store, then. You just… Stay here and… Try to get yourself out of those binds.” 
    “Okay,” Jesse said. As Julian climbed the stairs to leave their basement, Jesse was already wriggling his fingertips. He could scarcely bend his fingers at all, the ropes were so tight and firm. He doubted he’d be able to escape from them, but that was a good thing; It meant none of his future victims would be able to, either. 
    He figured he ought to try a little harder though, pretend he was fighting for his life like the people he tied up would inevitably be doing. He tried to thrash and writhe, but without the presence of the heart-pounding adrenaline he’d have if he was actually on the receiving end of a drawn out, painful murder, he didn’t think he was putting his whole heart into getting free. 
    Once he’d lost the circulation in his arms, it had stopped being that uncomfortable, too. So, even less motivation to fight with the bindings. He continued to put in a little effort, though. He fidgeted his legs as much as he could, he kept flexing his arms, but nothing seemed to make the ropes loosen. If anything, they were just getting tighter. The one wrapped around his lower torso was getting particularly tight… It was more uncomfortable than all the others, his middle felt really tense, and— 
    He should have peed before asking Julian to tie him up. He definitely should have peed. Now that he’d noticed the urge within, it seemed to intensify. How interesting that acknowledging a pain makes it amplify a little like that… It was as if once he’d made note of the discomfort, he’d given it a megaphone. His bladder was now demanding all of his attention. 
    He tried to ignore it for a while, but he couldn’t. It was throbbing and pulsating, and the fact he could neither cross his legs nor hold himself was making it worse. He finally seemed to find the motivation he’d needed to really fight against the ropes keeping him bound. Even if he couldn’t free his hands so he could get his zip down, he at least wanted the use of his legs so he could try and pin his opening shut between them. 
    His hips hitched back and forth, the only part of his body he could move around that freely. He was trying to ease the ropes over his legs downwards, if he could force them down to his ankles, rather than around his thighs and knees where they were now, they’d be too loose and he’d be able to step out of them. Then he’d get to do all the leg-crossing he wanted! 
    He couldn’t push the ropes down though. To do that, he’d need hands, which he knew he had even less chance of breaking free. He could sort of twist his ankles around, and he hooked them against one another, but that didn’t bring him much relief. The rope over his midsection was quickly becoming his worst enemy. Why did Julian have to put it RIGHT there? It was DIRECTLY over his bladder, and it seemed to squeeze itself more and more with each passing second. As if it wasn’t merely a rope, but a strangely camouflaged boa constrictor that was hell-bent on watching Jesse pee his pants. 
    Wait… No. He wasn’t THAT desperate already, was he? A few seconds of steady breathing and Jesse determined that he was certainly close to having to worry about that. His bladder was so full, the rope squishing it was so tight, and he couldn’t do anything to help hold it in! If he didn’t get out of these ropes soon, he was going to get soaked. 
    Wet pants weren’t too uncommon for Jesse. He’d had serious bedwetting issues for as far back as he could remember; Some nights he’d wet his pajamas, change his damp clothes, put a new sheet of plastic over the bed, fall back asleep… And then pee himself again before morning. He wasn’t sure what it was, he just could not for the life of him wake up when his bladder needed emptying. 
    He’d wet his pants while awake not too long ago as well; He’d managed to get himself locked into a freezer overnight while he really, really, really needed to go. He’d known he’d needed to conserve his energy if he was to survive the below freezing temperatures for so long in his thin clothes, and that holding it in would make that difficult. He also knew that urine would be warm… So, he’d just taken a deep breath and let it flow. 
    For a few seconds, his plan worked. He no longer had to put any energy into holding his bladder closed, and his legs were sieged by a pleasant heat that overpowered the frigid air that had been battering against them. He was actually feeling kind of proud of himself for being intelligent enough to use the tools at his disposal to warm himself. 
    And then he remembered that liquid cooled off pretty quickly when in such low temperatures. He felt significantly LESS smart when his urine began to freeze itself against his leg. 
    He shook his head back and forth to clear it of these memories. Not just because they were embarrassing, but because he could remember the relief he’d felt in that freezer as his bladder released its contents in a nice, steady hiss… He remembered all the pee dreams he’d had before waking up wet, how all of them had ended with finding a urinal just in time and crying out in ecstasy as he hosed it down… Sure, that was always followed with a moan of despair when he woke to find he’d drenched his bed again, but at least his bladder had been empty all those times! 
    As he tried to block out the tantalizing memories of blissful oblivion, his bladder forced out its first spurt into his tight skinny jeans— Because, of course, he’d had to wear his tightest jeans today as well! He panicked and squeezed his thighs together, the only thing he could do to try and hold his need back. He was trembling, shaking and rolling about on the ground, trying to break through the ropes from brute-force alone. 
    Of course, that didn’t work. He managed to roll himself on top of his stomach, though. The instant he did, it was like every bit of his weight was slamming on top of his bladder. Pain erupted beneath his sensitive flesh, his bladder shrieking in wild frenzy as a huge spurt poured from his tip. He quickly fought to roll over onto his back, but after such a brutal experience, his bladder was angry and thrashing, more and more leaks wetting the crotch of his pants. 
    Jesse moaned into the darkness of his basement. He was positive now that the ropes were inescapable, because now he really had been fighting for dear life and he hadn’t managed to loosen them even slightly. “Julian!?” Jesse called, before remembering that Julian had been about to go to the store… He groaned, tensed his thighs and clenched his muscles as hard as he could, straining his ears out for Julian to return home. 
    ‘All these years researching new, creative methods of torture,’ Jesse thought miserably in the dark. ‘And the worst one of all was staring me straight in the face the whole time…’ He didn’t like to think that his work, the experiments he’d done to see how much pain a human could withstand, could be outdone by a simple biological urge…But, this truly was a form of torture; One Jesse had never thought about before. To need to pee so badly while something squeezed the living daylights out of his bladder and he couldn’t even squirm in any meaningful way…That horrible throbbing ache that started in his middle, careened up his back and pulsated through his most delicate and sensitive areas… Could his experiments even measure up to this kind of pain? 
    Perhaps this would be a good thing to try next time he acquired a test subject? He’d have to find a way to keep the subject from wetting themselves. Jesse was only fighting so hard not to pee in his clothing because he didn’t want Julian to come home and find him laying in a puddle of urine. A test subject would be unlikely to care what their captors thought of them or have any desire not to make a mess of the torture dungeon, so would have less incentive to hold… 
    Perhaps Jesse should have been thinking of different escape methods and not of horrible things to do to whatever victims he managed to get his hands on in the future, but thinking about his work was always a good distraction. And he really, really needed a distraction! 
    It only lasted so long, though. Then, he could think of little more than ‘Have to pee! Oh, please! I have to pee so bad! Please, I need to urinate! I have to go! I need the restroom right now! Please, please, please! I can’t hold it! I need to pee!’ 
    Then, he heard the door opening. Julian was coming down the stairs, “It’s been about an hou—“ 
    “Julian, please release me,” Jesse instructed. 
    “You said two hours, th—“ 
    “I recall what my instructions were previously,” Jesse said. “But, now I urgently need to void!” 
    Julian blinked at Jesse for a few seconds. Sometimes it seemed like Jesse had blended up an entire thesaurus and then drank it like some kind of disgusting smoothie. He didn’t understand why Jesse always had to try and make people think he was some kind of super genius, all it did was make him talk weird and use words normal people didn’t understand. “Um… You need to do… What?” 
    “I am experiencing a terrible exigency, my body requires me to pass water straightaway.” When he again received a blank stare, Jesse groaned; “I have to micturate, Julian.” 
    “…What?” 
    “I must urinate!” 
    “You… Oh, you’re all jiggly! Do you mean you gotta take a piss?” Julian guessed. 
    Jesse winced at Julian’s vulgar tongue, (Jesse hated swearing, he thought it made a person sound frightfully unintelligent.) as well as at the fact that his accomplice apparently had not previously been clear on what the word ‘urinate’ meant. But, he nodded. “Yes, dreadfully! Please, untie me!” 
    “Okay!” Julian said. He knelt down next to Jesse and had him roll onto his side. Jesse cringed as turning over made his liquids slosh and push themselves against his opening. 
    “Hurry…” Jesse said. 
    “I am,” Julian assured. “Now… Um… Uh…. How do you take the knot back out?” 
    “You didn’t consider it may be of the essence to work that out prior to tying me up?” 
    “Sorry…” Julian said. “Maybe I can just cut you free instead, do you think we’ve got something that could do that?” 
    “Julian, you are presently in a torture dungeon,” Jesse reminded. “Everything in here is sharp, I’m sure something will get the job done.” 
    Julian opened several of the drawers, each stocked full of various dangerous implements. He soon found a decent looking knife. 
    Jesse squirmed on the ground and listened as Julian sharpened up a knife before returning to him. He felt a bit of relief when Julian began cutting apart the rope binding his hands. When they were freed, they stung with a million pins and needles as the blood flow finally returned to them after so long. The tingling was of no concern however. It didn’t matter that his hands didn’t feel right, what mattered was what they could do. And right now, all they could do was press against his crotch. He couldn’t get a fantastic grip through his tight jeans, but it was something and it was enough to make him give a tiny sigh. “Ahh…” 
    Julian heard his little moan and flinched, “You’re not… You’re not ‘going’, are you?” 
    “No!” Jesse cried out. “I’m just… I’ve been really desiring the use of my hands, and it… Feels better to be able to—“ 
    “Oh,” Julian said. He then sliced through the rope tied around Jesse’s waist, then finally took care of the ones binding his legs. The instant Jesse’s legs were free, they were crossed, scissoring against one another, completely out of Jesse’s control. 
    “Wow, I guess you do have to go really bad,” Julian said.
    “Silence,” Jesse commanded. He forced himself up onto his feet, and realized that he was still pretty far from being okay. To get to the restroom, he’d need to leave the basement. And to do that, he had to make it up a flight of stairs. “Are there any containers down here?” 
    Julian shrugged, “I don’t think so… It’s not like it’s that far to walk.” 
    Jesse hesitated for a moment before placing his foot up onto the first step. He immediately let out a sharp hiss of air through his teeth. An intense wave of need had snaked through his foot, up the line of his leg, and directly into his throbbing abdomen; He felt a short spray of urine shoot from his tip. He could not recall ever needing to relieve himself so urgently before in his life. “I have to do it right here,” he announced. 
    “What?!” Julian asked, alarmed. 
    Jesse was already working on his zipper. 
    “You can’t be serious? You’re just gonna piss on the steps?” 
    “I have been left with no other options,” Jesse said. “The pressures of nature are simply too much for me to bear at the moment, I have no choice but to—“ He stopped speaking abruptly as it registered to him that something was wrong; His zipper was not coming down. It wasn’t even budging. He gripped hold of it and yanked with his full strength, but still it remained up. His pants were much too tight for him to just yank them down by the waistband— Not that he particularly wanted to expose quite THAT much of his body to Julian, anyway… 
    “Julian, my zipper is stuck!” he cried out in a panic. 
    “Once you’re actually at a TOILET, I’ll help you!” Julian said. “Don’t pee on the steps!” 
    Jesse bounced in place, continuing to tug the accursed zipper. His holding muscles were so exhausted, it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his bladder’s contents where they belonged. He wanted to fire back that, whether his zipper came down or not, the steps were GOING to be peed on; The only difference would be whether or not Jesse’s clothes would get wet as well… But, before he could even open his mouth, it registered to him that the area around his crotch was starting to feel strangely warm. Then, he picked up on the sounds; A loud hiss had begun to fill the room, like the sound of air being let out of a balloon. This was underpinned with the distinct noise of liquid splashing against concrete. 
    Panicked, he tried to get a good grip on his member, but all this did was get his hands wet as the deluge only continued to build in intensity. Jesse shuddered with equal parts embarrassment and relief… So much relief… He’d needed to do this for so long, finally having it come out felt nothing short of exquisite. But, every few seconds the textile sensations of his rapidly dampening clothing would register to him once more, and the humiliation would begin to outweigh the relief. 
    The fact Julian was there didn’t help, Jesse found himself wishing he’d just gone ahead and had his accident BEFORE Julian had come home. Being found in a massive puddle of urine would have been slightly less embarrassing than being watched while CREATING a massive puddle of urine. The amount he was letting loose was also somewhat mortifying; he’d been spraying uncontrollably for at least a full minute, and he didn’t feel like he’d be done any time soon. 
    Julian was just watching him, and he wanted to tell him to look away but he couldn’t even find his voice through the shock. 
    Julian apparently COULD find his, though. “Hey… Um… Well, you piss the bed practically every single night, so at least this isn’t a totally new experience for you, right?” 
    Jesse finally remembered how to talk, “You’re not helping!” he shouted overtop of the stunningly noisy hiss that was still emitting from his midsection. 
    “Sorry… Feel any better at least?” 
    Jesse scowled, but had to admit that he definitely did. A brief shiver passed through him as the last of his urine drained from his body and he gave a very soft sigh. The sigh wasn’t purely from relief, but also from dismay. As he stood there, soaked from the waist down and stinking of urine partway up the stairs of his makeshift torture dungeon, Jesse wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve this much humiliation. That would, however, forever remain a mystery to him.
  8. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Ms. Tito in Limits (Dragon Ball Z Fanfiction)   
    To Goku’s immense surprise, Vegeta did not force him to sleep on the floor for the rest of the night. He had expected to be relegated to the ground, his friend too embarrassed after everything that had happened to be so close to him. But, instead of ordering Goku onto the floor, Vegeta stood awkwardly by the bed and didn’t seem like he WANTED to lay down until Goku had done it first.
    Once they were both in bed, Goku saw that Vegeta was still a little shaken up. He curled up beneath the sheets, his back facing Goku, and Goku wanted to get closer to him, but he didn’t dare. He wanted to hold Vegeta’s hand and try to transfer more calming energy into him, but couldn’t do that, either.
    For the first time in a long while, Goku missed his tail. He’d been okay without it for years and, once he’d learned the truth about his transformations, he’d been GLAD that his tail was gone and could no longer cause harm. But, if he and Vegeta still had their tails, Goku thought he might be able to drape his over Vegeta’s for a very subtle bit of comfort which Vegeta wouldn’t take too much offense to.
    When Goku was little, if he had a bad dream, Grandpa would gently pet his tail until he fell back asleep.
    Vegeta shifted around in bed, struggling to get back to sleep. Goku knew he was dreading the possibility of reliving Frieza’s torture again, and Goku couldn’t sleep either. He thought about reminding Vegeta again that Frieza was dead and couldn’t hurt him like that again. He thought about telling him that he was much, MUCH stronger than Frieza now anyway.
    But, it sounded like the nightmares were just Vegeta’s memories replaying. In his memories, Frieza was alive and more powerful than him.
    Goku had figured out how to sort of control his dreams, though! Even the ones based on his memories, he could make DIFFERENT things happen if he wanted to. “Vegeta, I know how to tell when you’re dreaming. If you can’t sense everybody’s chi, that means—“
    “I already know that, Kakarot…” Vegeta huffed out. “Be quiet, I’m trying to sleep.”
    “Okay… But, after you figure out you’re dreaming, you should be able to choose what happens, and—“
    “That doesn’t always work,” Vegeta said. “I don’t know why. That whole time I was remembering what Frieza did to me, I was aware that I was sleeping. I just couldn’t do anything about it.”
    “Oh…” Goku said. HE could get himself out of a nightmare just by thinking hard enough about other things. But… He also hadn’t ever been tortured like what had happened to Vegeta.
    “And, it was JUST a dream,” Vegeta emphasized. “So, I’m FINE. Stop worrying about it. Besides, I always survived whatever he did to me— It actually impressed him.”
    “Huh?”
    “Yeah,” Vegeta said, sounding more sure of himself now. “After he was done, he’d tell me how proud he was of me for pulling through, how strong that made me.”
    “That’s confusing…”
    “It was,” Vegeta agreed. “But, he must have just been surprised. The first time I was in there, I was only six, and I bet I handled it better than the adults did!”
    Goku frowned. Vegeta had been only a year younger than Goten the first time… Goku pictured Frieza rendering Goten defenseless and then attacking him with everything he had. Goku frowned more.
    “He was shocked by how much I could take,” Vegeta said. “I must have the highest pain tolerance in the galaxy. Much higher than yours, I’m sure.”
    Vegeta’s ability to endure pain WAS really strong. Goku reacted more when he got hurt, he cried out, he doubled over. Vegeta was usually more stoic about it. He gritted his teeth and didn’t let it show until it was really bad.
    Just like how he was with his bladder… He put up with being full FAR longer than Goku could tolerate— Far longer than anyone should NEED to tolerate.
    Goku wasn’t sure if Vegeta should feel so proud of his pain tolerance… Yes, it was good that he could handle it when he needed to, but the more pride he took in his level of endurance, the less willing he’d be to step back before he did real damage. The less willing he’d be to accept help.
    The times Vegeta had admitted to Goku that something hurt, the affliction must have been blisteringly bad…
    Usually, when Vegeta confessed to Goku that he was in pain, he was talking about his bladder. Which probably meant that, every time Vegeta told Goku that his desperation was causing him agony, he was well PAST the point where he was damaging himself.
    “… Yeah,” Goku said. “Your pain tolerance is really good. I yell when I get hit way more than you do… But, you know that if you’re hurt, it’s okay to say so and maybe ask for help, right? I mean, even BEFORE it gets super bad.”
    “I don’t need to notify people any time I’m slightly uncomfortable. And I do NOT ask for help. If I desire something from another person, I will DEMAND it. Now, go to sleep!”
    Goku laid back down, but he was still worried. Vegeta obviously viewed ‘enduring torment’ as a requirement of himself. No wonder he pushed his body so hard…
    Vegeta kept turning from side to side in bed. He couldn’t sleep. When Goku glanced over, he still looked shaky.
    “Dammit…” Vegeta mumbled into his pillow.
    “Vegeta—“
    “… The… The stupid staff at this hotel have cranked the AC up so high,” Vegeta said, voice still muffled as he refused to look at Goku. “I am much too cold to get any rest!”
    Goku paused. He didn’t think it was that cold… But, Vegeta WAS more sensitive to—
    Oh.
    He knew what Vegeta was trying to ask for— He wanted something that he could NEVER speak aloud. And, he must have wanted it very badly if he was allowing himself to even come THIS close to requesting it. Just this vague implication must have been tearing him up inside.
    “Yeah, you DO look cold,” Goku said. “Too bad they didn’t give us more blankets…” He pretended to think it over for a second. “I know you’re not gonna like this, but if it helps you warm up, you can get closer to me. I won’t mind.”
    Vegeta scoffed, but was already moving over to Goku. “Well. Fine. But ONLY because I’m freezing, and Bulma isn’t here to do it instead.”
    Goku put his arm around Vegeta, whom flinched before settling down and eventually falling back asleep.
    ***
    The next morning, Vegeta quickly separated himself from Goku. Neither acknowledged how close they had been.
    Goku couldn’t shake off the nervousness he felt. That weird breathing Vegeta had done last night, it had sounded like he was suffocating. HAD he been suffocating? Had Vegeta been in danger of dying? Why had that happened? How did Goku keep it from happening ever again?
    For what he thought was the first time in his entire life, Goku actually had trouble getting himself to pee that morning. He didn’t need to go that badly, he just wanted to make sure he was completely empty before Bulma’s speech in case it lasted a long time. Adding onto that, he was so worried about Vegeta randomly suffocating himself someday that it kept distracting him from the task of urinating.
    He ended up needing to turn the sink on, something he knew sometimes worked for Vegeta. He was even a little self-conscious about that. Was Vegeta wondering about what had suddenly gotten into him?
    Goku finished and came back out. If Vegeta had noticed anything, he didn’t say so. Goku felt silly for letting himself stress out about that, even if it was just for a second. As Vegeta headed into the restroom, Goku said; “I’ll go wait downstairs while you get yourself rea—“
    “No,” Vegeta said quickly, his voice sharp. “I need to be able to focus on your—“ A blush started to build up on his face. He folded his arms. “Uh, I mean…”
    “You need to be able to focus on my energy, so that you don’t notice everyone else’s?” Goku guessed.
    “… Yes. That.”
    “Oh, okay. Hey, I could even power-up, that way you REALLY won’t be able to feel anything else!”
    “That won’t be necessary. Do NOT destroy the room, Kakarot.”
    Vegeta entered the restroom. He actually needed to go quite a bit; That wasn’t uncommon after a particularly lengthy bout of desperation, like the one he’d suffered through yesterday. His bladder was tired, his muscles didn’t WANT to stretch out like that again so soon, so they had become more sensitive, making his urge feel more pressing than it should have.
    With Kakarot’s energy to zero in on, Vegeta was unable to register anything else, and managed to relieve himself easily. He hated the idea that Kakarot’s presence had become so calming to him— The most irritating man in the universe somehow managed to soothe him! How was that even possible? It shouldn’t have been, yet obviously it was. Yesterday, when he’d tried to pee while Kakarot was downstairs, he had been utterly incapable of it. Now, with Kakarot near him, he only had to concentrate and try for a moment.
    And, last night… Vegeta had… Sort of… Kind of…
    Kakarot was warm. Bulma hadn’t been there. That was all.
    ***
    Bulma gave her speech in the hotel’s conference hall. During the beginning, she searched for Vegeta in the audience, and was immensely relieved when he appeared to be comfortable— Or, at least as ‘comfortable’ as Vegeta COULD look.
    He did seem a bit sleepy, however. His eyes kept drooping, and he yawned a lot. Bulma glared at him the first few times, offended that he would do that while she was speaking. But, when she noticed he was trying to cover his mouth and turn away from her view, she realized that he actually couldn’t help it. He was exhausted. Had some noisy hotel guests kept him awake last night, or something?
    Goku looked pretty tired, too… And, to Bulma’s surprise, he actually looked anxious in addition to that. His brows were furrowed, and he struggled to keep his eyes off of Vegeta as he worried at his lip. Bulma planned to ask him what was wrong after her speech but, of course, she hadn’t needed to say a word.
    As soon as Goku had a moment alone with her, he was blurting it out on his own. “Bulma!Vegeta started breathing really weird last night, and it looked like he was gonna suffocate, and I don’t know why! And, I got him to stop, but I’m worried it’ll happen again, and that he’ll—“
    “—That was probably a panic attack,” Bulma interrupted, holding one hand up and urging Goku to slow down. She understood his concern. Goku probably hadn’t ever seen anyone have a panic attack before. So, to him, it must have looked like Vegeta was losing a fight against an invisible enemy that was trying to strangle him to death. “He gets those sometimes— Not often, but they happen.”
    “Oh…” Goku said. “What’s a panic attack?”
    “It’s related to his anxiety,” Bulma told him. “The attacks happen when it gets really intense. If he ever does that around you again, just try to help him steady his breathing… Hopefully he actually LETS you do that.”
    “I think I did that last night,” Goku said. “I gave him some of my energy ‘cause I thought it’d calm him down… But, he’s NOT suffocating, right?”
    “No,” Bulma said. “It might FEEL that way to him, though. So, calm him down like you did last night… Do you know what brought it on?”
    “Um…” Goku frowned. “I kinda promised Vegeta I wouldn’t tell… I wasn’t even supposed to mention the breathing stuff, and I know he’s gonna be mad about it.”
    “You only asked because you were worried about him, it’s alright. But, you probably shouldn’t use the words ‘panic attack’ around him. He’s still not ready to accept he gets them yet.”
    “Okay, yeah, he got SUPER embarrassed after all that stuff happened…”
    “He wasn’t… ‘shaky’ during my speech, so I guess that means ‘everything else’ has been okay?”
    “Yeah,” Goku said, but Bulma saw him rubbing the back of his head, something he usually only did when he was nervous or avoiding something.
    “It HAS been okay, right?”
    “Uh, he kinda waited a long time yesterday,” Goku said, trying to give as few details as possible. “But, it’s all good now.”
    “… Okay,” Bulma said. She wondered how long ‘a long time’ was, and hoped Vegeta hadn’t hurt himself because he was too stubborn to ask Goku for help until he was in severe agony.
    But, who was she kidding? Of course Vegeta had probably done that…
    “Well, we’re going to drive back soon. He probably won’t need you to remind him, but make SURE he’s ‘handled things’ before we leave.”
    “Yeah, don’t worry.”
    Bulma nodded, then narrowed her eyes. “And YOU’D better not walk out of here without going first, either. And absolutely NO gigantic sodas on our way back— We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”
    “Eheh… Yeah, we don’t want that…”
    ***
    Goku didn’t need to remind Vegeta to pee before they left— Which was a relief, because Goku wasn’t entirely sure how he would phrase such a thing WITHOUT incurring any wrath. What happened instead DID trouble Goku a little bit, though.
    Goku told Vegeta what time Bulma wanted to leave the hotel by, and after that Vegeta was oddly fixated on the clock. PRECISELY six minutes before they were supposed to leave the room, Vegeta got up and peed.
    The way he seemed to obsess over timing it JUST right was concerning. Goku had never thought about this aspect of Vegeta’s Problem before; If he was going to leave a location where he could ‘easily’ pee at a specific time, he had to be careful about when he relieved himself last. If he did it too soon, he could fill back up again when it was deeply inconvenient. If he waited too long, he might not have enough time to finish— And Goku could guess easily enough that Vegeta would rather die than delay someone else because he’d been busy peeing.
    It seemed like a whole lot of unnecessary stress to Goku…
    As soon as Vegeta was finished, Goku went as well. He didn’t have any trouble getting his stream started this time, no longer fearful that Vegeta was going to suffocate.
    ***
    Bulma had a problem.
    It was a very silly one, but it appeared at the worst possible moment; Just half an hour after they had left the motel, the second they found themselves caught in traffic.
    It was a very, VERY silly problem, and she couldn’t believe that it was actually happening.
    She had reminded Goku to pee before they left, knowing that he was likely to forget about his bladder unless he was told to empty it.
    She had looked Vegeta over before getting the car out of its capsule, because she wanted to make sure he was showing zero signs of ‘twitchiness’ and had gotten his needs handled while he was still in a place he could do so.
    She had been VERY steadfast in ensuring that BOTH of them wouldn’t need to pee that badly for at least a little while, that her irresponsible friend and extremely bladder-shy husband were both totally empty before getting in the car.
    And, she had left without using the restroom HERSELF.
    She felt like a complete idiot. She felt like a complete idiot that was getting annoyingly desperate to pee while stuck in a traffic jam. How could she have spent SO much time thinking about how much she DIDN’T want either of the Saiyans to have ‘emergencies’ on the way home, and not ONCE consider that it might be a good idea for HER to go to the bathroom too?
    Vegeta was beside her, glowering out at all the traffic. “Why did we have to drive back with you again?! Just—“ He broke into a yawn. “J—Just let us fly, so I don’t have to deal with this horseshit!”
    “You and Goku both seemed pretty tired…” Bulma said. She knew this would provoke an argument and could already hear Vegeta indignantly snapping back at her that he wasn’t sleepy at all and was totally fine. She was banking on it. Bickering with Vegeta would distract her from her bladder. “I thought it would be better to drive you.”
    Goku yawned in the backseat, “Yeah, Vegeta.” He said. “This way we can nap until we get back.”
    Vegeta scoffed and rubbed at his eyes, dark circles had formed beneath them. “Who the Hell could nap here? The seats are uncomfortable, these belts cut into you, the other cars keep honking at nothing!” He counted off as his eyes kept drawing closed involuntarily. Each blink was coming on faster and lasting longer. “D—Damn them… And… Damn them and such…” His eyes shut again, and they didn’t re-open.
    In other circumstances, Bulma might have laughed at the fact that Vegeta had literally just ranted himself to sleep, or appreciated how cute he looked when he was resting… But, she would have much preferred it if he’d stayed conscious, alert, and able to distract her.
    She thought she might be able to bite back the embarrassment and admit that she’d forgotten to use the bathroom before they’d left— Goku was the only one awake right now, and the only thing he’d have to say on the matter was “Oh man, yeah! Don’t you hate it when that happens?!” He wouldn’t care, or think it was stupid that she’d managed to neglect her own body’s needs after fussing so much over his and Vegeta’s.
    But, doing that wouldn’t fix anything. She was trapped in wall-to-wall traffic, and there was no way she could pull over and GET to a bathroom right now. She knew how Goku would react to THAT too, because she’d already BEEN in a somewhat similar situation with him before.
    It was during her first hunt for the dragon balls. She, Goku and Oolong were riding a boat towards their next destination, and she’d really needed to pee. It had gotten so bad that she’d started mumbling to herself about it and, of course, Goku heard.
    “Bulma, just go pee in the water,” Goku said, pointing off the side of the boat.
    Bulma’s face had reddened with horror, and the blush deepened as Oolong grinned. “Heh, yeah,” the pig nodded. “Go ahead, it ain’t good for you to be holding it in.”
    “NO!” Bulma snapped. “I am NOT doing that! You can FORGET it!”
    Goku tilted his head so that he looked like a perplexed dog. “How come? Is it ‘cause you think the fish will get mad?”
    “Goku…”
    “They won’t, I promise!” Goku said. “I pee in lakes and stuff all the time, the fish don’t mind!”
    “That ISN’T why—“
    “If you’re THAT worried about the fish,” Goku interrupted. “Then maybe you can… Oh, look!” He bent down, and plucked a bottle off the floor of the boat. He pointed to it proudly. “You can go pee in this, Bulma!”
    “No, I CAN’T!” Bulma corrected him, covering her face as Oolong laughed.
    “But, why?” Goku asked. “You look like you have to pee REALLY bad, Bulma! Just go in the bottle, you’ll feel better!”
    “Girls don’t pee in bottles, you idiot!”
    “… Why?”
    “Th—They just DON’T!” Bulma snapped. “Be quiet about this, Goku. I need to wait until I can use a toilet, or at least a bush.”
    Goku stared at her a moment longer, watching her wriggling with some concern. An idea seemed to form in his mind and he smiled widely. “I know! How about we just have Oolong turn into a toilet?”
    A few seconds later, Goku had been whining and asking what Bulma had slapped him for.
    Goku might not suggest anything quite THAT stupid now, but any ‘solution’ he tried to offer to Bulma today would likely be unhelpful and just frustrating to hear.
    Besides, Bulma COULD hold it until the traffic cleared up. It was just uncomfortable to do it. Her thigh muscles were tightening up and she was cursing herself nonstop for not going at the hotel.
    Thinking about the one, painfully idiotic mistake she had made today was not helping her present situation much. Her bladder was twinging and tingling more as she continually wished she could turn back time and relieve herself when she SHOULD have. She needed something else to concentrate on.
    Vegeta was still asleep, and she had a fairly good idea that waking up an exhausted Vegeta just so he could find himself STILL trapped inside of a car in the midst of a traffic jam would end very poorly for all involved. It was better to let him rest.
    She could just talk to Goku instead, as long as she didn’t mention her need and prompt him to suggest an embarrassing, impossible remedy for it. But, when she turned around, she saw that HE had fallen asleep as well.
    Bulma groaned. Goku wouldn’t be THAT grumpy if he got woken up, but considering that the REASON he was so tired was because he’d been up most of the night trying to soothe Vegeta from… Whatever had caused him to panic, Bulma really didn’t want to bother him.
    She could do this. She’d needed to pee badly while stuck in traffic by herself before, and everything had turned out just fine. She’d go as soon as she was able to get to a bathroom, and she was sure that wouldn’t take TOO long.
    ***
    Goku wriggled uncomfortably in his suit. The tie felt funny. It was pinching his neck. He didn’t like it. Why did Chi-Chi have to make him wear this stuff? And why did she keep picking out OTHER suits for him to go try on? They all looked about the same to him…
    He also needed to go to the bathroom really bad. They’d been clothes shopping for FOREVER and he hadn’t been able to pee all day. “Chi-Chi…” he whined. “Haven’t I tried on enough stuff yet?”
    “No,” Chi-Chi said. “I need you to look presentable for when we visit Gohan’s school next week, so you need to have the perfect outfit.”
    “But, Chi-Chi, can’t I just take a break?”
    “In a minute,” Chi-Chi said, looking through the clothes rack again and murmuring. “Maybe this one…? No, it’s too bright…”
    “I have to take a leak,” Goku complained, hopping anxiously on his toes. “I promise I won’t be gone long.”
    Chi-Chi sighed. “Okay… Just go change back into your normal clothes and then you can go. But, you’d better come back.”
    Goku smiled, already feeling relieved. Just knowing that he’d be peeing in a couple minutes was making him feel so much better. The throbs in his bladder actually seemed to settle down, no longer worried that he would be forced to try to contain it until the end of the trip.
    He rushed back into the dressing room and quickly got out of the uncomfortable suit. He had NO idea how he was gonna manage to stay in one of those things for an entire afternoon next week, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. There was really only one thing he wanted to focus on, and he put his regular clothes on as fast as he could.
    He hurried out and thanked Chi-Chi before entering the main area of the mall. His bladder swelled and convulsed like crazy when he spotted the enormous fountain in the center of it. He clenched his fists at his sides and bobbed up and down as he tried to ignore it, and the awful sound of rushing water that emanated from it. Where was the bathroom?
    He spotted a map and dashed over to it, but frowned when he found it immensely difficult to read. Goku usually had a little trouble reading, but it looked like the map was written in a completely different language— It actually kind of looked like the Saiyan language Vegeta used to sign his name sometimes, but Goku doubted it was the same thing. Not that it would help if it WAS, since the only word Goku could read in the Saiyan language was Vegeta’s name.
    Trying to read the labels on the map was just making his head hurt, so Goku tried to just find an icon that he thought meant ‘bathroom’, but none of the icons made sense to him either! They were just random shapes.
    His bladder throbbed even more sharply, and Goku couldn’t keep standing in one place anymore. He had to move around, and the map wasn’t helping him at all. He would have an easier time if he just wandered around until he finally found a toilet on his own.
    He had to walk past the fountain, its gushing, trickling spray causing him to cross his legs and stumble. Maybe he could go in the fountain…? He could pretend to fall in and then relax while he was covered up by the water.
    No, Chi-Chi was gonna be mad if he came back soaked.
    He had to hurry, or he was GOING to come back soaked no matter what!
    Goku finally spotted a restroom after what felt like hours of searching, but was probably only around twenty minutes. ‘Finally,’ he thought, rushing over towards it. His bladder already felt a little looser— A little TOO loose. He whimpered as he was forced to slow down to avoid leaking into his pants. ‘Just a few more steps, c’mon, I can make it…’
    Just as Goku was about to enter the restroom, Krillin stepped out of it. He smiled up at his taller friend; “Hey, Goku! I didn’t expect to run into you here, did your wife drag you out shopping too?”
    Goku hopped anxiously between his feet, his bladder was going into hysterics, jolting like mad in protest of this extra delay. “Y—Yeah,” he said. “She wants me to wear a suit for this thing at Gohan’s school. And, she keeps making me try on a whole bunch of them, and now I really have to pee!”
    Krillin looked down at Goku’s feet and laughed. “Yeah, I’ll get outta your way, then.”
    Goku breathed a sigh of relief as Krillin left. He entered the bathroom and stood at a urinal, undoing his belt. He was just about to start peeing when it struck him that something was off.
    He’d JUST talked to Krillin.
    But, he hadn’t SENSED Krillin at all.
    This was a dream, wasn’t it? Goku clenched up his holding muscles again with another needy wince. He couldn’t release his bladder yet. If he did, he was gonna wake up soaked, and Chi-Chi was gonna groan and shake her head and say “Oh, Goku, not again…I just washed the sheets!”
    He concentrated on his own energy for a second, trying to ignite it so that his body would jolt awake. With as urgent as his need was, he sure hoped he’d be able to stumble from the bed to the bathroom quickly enough. It was gonna be really, really close…
    Goku woke up, but he wasn’t in bed. He was in a car. Bulma was driving, he heard Vegeta snoring… And, when he looked out the window, there was nothing but traffic as far as his eyes could see. They were barely moving.
    Goku anxiously leaned forward and tapped the back of Bulma’s seat. “B—Bulma…? How long was I asleep for?”
    Bulma groaned, and Goku noticed that her shoulders and back looked really tense. “A few hours, Goku— And traffic has barely BUDGED since you went to sleep.”
    Goku flinched, he leaned back and grabbed at himself. That wasn’t good. His bladder was about to explode as it was, it wouldn’t be able to handle being trapped in a traffic jam much longer. “O—Oh,” he said. “Um… Well, you know, I feel really rested up now. I can probably use Instant Transmission again. Y—You don’t mind if I go home right now, do you?”
    Another groan, this one more pained. Goku heard Bulma shifting around before she responded. “I… I… Could you wait until we’re out of this traffic?” She asked. “I thought… I thought maybe you could take Vegeta and I straight home, too… As soon as I can pull over and capsulize the car.”
    Goku bounced his knees, gripping them urgently. “Uh… Well… I— I could come back for you guys!” He decided. “I only need to go home for a minute…” He worried at his lip. “I REALLY gotta pee, and I don’t think I can wait.”
    Bulma held the steering wheel a little tighter. “Mmmf, that’s…” She leaned back in her seat, released the wheel and rubbed her hands over the tops of her thighs. “That’s… That’s fine!” She said, a certain sharpness in her voice.
    Her tone gave Goku pause. So, even though his bladder was searing, he asked; “Bulma, is something bugging you?”
    “N—Nothing much, I just… I can’t believe I forgot to use the bathroom before we left.”
    “You have to go, too?” Goku said. “Well, I’ll take you with me!” Tensing up his thighs, and crossing his ankles, he forced himself to continue. “I’ll even let you go first, ‘cause I don’t think we can use the toilet together like me and V— Uh, like me and Krillin could!”
    “You and Krillin did WHAT togeth— Never mind,” Bulma twisted in her seat, fighting not to jam her hands between her legs. She had been doing that quite a bit for the last couple hours, but now that Goku was up, she refused to continue. Her bladder was aching from the loss of that vital support, though. Goku’s offer was so tempting, but… “I’m driving,” she reminded him.
    Goku looked out the window, and the stand-still traffic. “… Are you?”
    “It moves, just very slowly. I can’t leave the car like this. Vegeta’s asleep, and he doesn’t even HAVE a license.”
    “I’m sure we can wake him up, and he can manage it for just a—“
    “Goku, I want you to imagine Vegeta spending even two seconds driving in this mess.”
    Goku did. The first thing that popped into his mind was an image of Vegeta when they had first met, Vegeta was sparking with wild energy, his pupils pinpricks as his eyes bulged out of their sockets, his entire face scorched red with homicidal rage, and a vibrant chi blast firing from his hands, destroying everything in its path.
    “I guess I see what you mean,” Goku said. His wriggling was getting worse, his bladder urging him to just hurry up and get to somewhere that he could pee. “But, are you gonna be okay?”
    “I’ll be fine…” Bulma said, tapping her fingers agitatedly over her knees. She wasn’t sure if she’d be fine, but it didn’t make much sense to make Goku suffer through holding a full bladder through a traffic jam. Not when the guy could just teleport himself anywhere he wanted to go.
    “Okay,” Goku put his fingers against his forehead and concentrated.
    And concentrated.
    And…
    He couldn’t find Chi-Chi’s energy…
    Okay, that was… Fine. Goten was probably at home with her right now. His chi would be larger, even Goku’s desperation addled mind should be able to lock onto it.
    He felt it, but very, VERY faintly. He tried to latch on and focus , but within a few seconds, he lost it.
    Um… Gohan would be at school right now… Could Goku still try teleporting to him anyway?
    Would it be embarrassing for someone’s father to randomly appear in the middle of their classroom, obviously desperate to pee, and then go around asking everyone where the nearest bathroom was?
    Goku thought about it, decided Gohan wouldn’t mind, and tried to locate his energy. He did it! But, just like with Goten, his focus shattered after only a moment, and he was still stuck in place.
    Uh oh.
    “Um… Bulma…?”
    ***
    Vegeta was so damned angry with Bulma. He absolutely NEEDED to get into the bathroom NOW. His bladder was scorching with intense, burning pangs, and to his utmost humiliation, he had been reduced to hopping from one foot to the other as he waited right outside the door for Bulma to finally get out of the shower.
    His knees buckled and he fought against the urge to grab at himself. It was so bad that he wanted to just tear open the door and go inside, shouting at Bulma to keep the shower curtain drawn, and the water blasting at full force so that she would neither see nor hear him— Hopefully that would be good enough!
    But, for some reason, Bulma had actually LOCKED the door this time. Of course, Vegeta COULD force the door open anyway, but in doing so he’d shatter the lock. He could NOT let himself destroy that lock.
    So, instead, he’d forced himself to knock on the door and demand entry. “You have been in there long enough!” He shouted. “I have… ‘things’ I need to do today, and you are delaying me!”
    But, Bulma hadn’t answered. He knew for a FACT that she’d heard him, because a person would have to have NO ears at all to miss when Vegeta was yelling at them. She was CHOOSING to ignore him.
    He tried three more times. “Bulma! Let me in immediately! My patience is GONE!”
    But, she still wouldn’t reply.
    With immense frustration, he came to the conclusion that she was trying to make him… Say it. She wanted him to say, out-loud, why he needed to get into that room so urgently. He would not give her that satisfaction, and he would NOT debase himself by confessing that he was in very real danger of springing a leak soon.
    He stubbornly kept quiet and paced the room for a while longer, feeling his holding muscles burn and contract, the walls of his bladder being pulled thinner and thinner by the ever-growing ocean he was containing. Finally, he was hit with a very intense convulsion in his pelvic muscles, and he dragged himself back to the door, knocking on it more forcefully than ever and wincing when he saw the wood beginning to splinter. ‘Stop, stop… Don’t bash a hole through it… That’s the last thing you need…’
    It did emphasize to him just HOW infuriating this whole situation was; He was blocked off from relief by an obstruction which he could EASILY get rid of. He was damaging the door without even MEANING to! But, he NEEDED the stupid thing to remain intact and functional, so he couldn’t just break it down. He had to hold back. He had to hold back SO much… He had to restrain his strength, so that he didn’t accidentally bust up the door. He had to restrain his temper, so that he didn’t lose it and destroy the thing in a fit of unthinking rage. And he had to restrain his bladder, which now felt like it was constantly mid-spasm.
    “Woman!” Vegeta snapped. “Hurry the Hell up! I— I… I…” He clenched his eyes closed, his voice lowering. “I need to relieve myself…” There! He’d said it! He’d fucking said it! That was what she wanted to hear, right?! She’d let him go now?!
    No response.
    “D—Dammit…” Vegeta growled under his breath. “Bulma! I said that I—“
    “I heard you,” Bulma called back, acknowledging him at last.
    “That means you have to allow me—“
    “I’m not going to,” Bulma said smoothly.
    Vegeta stared at the door. The door stared back, remaining a mocking, enraging barrier that he could EASILY destroy if he didn’t NEED the damn thing so much. He struggled to process what Bulma had just said. HOW could she say something like that?! She KNEW— She knew how difficult this sort of thing was for him! How could she want to make it worse?!
    “Mmmf, it’s— It’s urgent, alright?” Vegeta snapped. “Is that what you want to hear?” Blushing so warmly that he felt like he was rubbing his face against a stovetop, he went on. “Is it? I… I, Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, need to… Urinate very desperately. There. I said it, now let me in before I—“
    “That’s good, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “I HAVE told you that you need to learn to speak up more. But, that isn’t what I’m waiting for.”
    “Then WHAT?! What do you—“
    “I’ve been doing some thinking,” Bulma said. “And, I think the only way you’re gonna get over this Problem of yours is if we really shock your system.”
    “Wha—“
    “If I see you wet yourself— the worst thing that could possibly happen— and you get it over with and see it isn’t actually that bad, that should fix everything.”
    Vegeta stumbled back, his heart pounding rapid-fire in his chest. She… She couldn’t be serious! That didn’t make any sense! That would never work! It would just make everything worse! And— And he couldn’t… He couldn’t… wet himself. Not where Bulma would see! Not— Not anywhere! And— And what was Bulma planning? Did she intend to stay in the shower for two whole days? Because that was how long it would take for Vegeta to actually lose control of himself!
    The one time he’d… Done that as an adult, it had been after two full days of EXTREME agony, and he’d even gotten sick in the process! After that, he’d moved BACKWARDS, the progress he’d made was UNDONE by the shame of it all. This was NOT going to work.
    But, Bulma didn’t KNOW that Vegeta had already… Had already… soaked himself like that. All she knew was that he’d gotten sick from holding it too long. As far as she was aware, Vegeta hadn’t wet himself since he was four, so maybe THAT was why she’d managed to think this would be a good idea?
    “Th—That won’t work, B—Bulma!” Vegeta stammered, his wriggling was increasing. The abject panic flooding through him was wrapping tight bands of pressure around his already exploding bladder. “I kn—know that it won’t. B—Because I already… Um… I… Actually… Er… I… Uh, I… I lost control of my… My bladder in front of Kakarot once, and i—it just made the Problem worse!” Ahhhhh! He couldn’t believe he’d said that! He’d never wanted to confess that to ANYONE— Especially Bulma!
    But, if it got her to change her mind about doing THIS to him—
    “I still think it’s worth a try, Vegeta,” Bulma told him.
    HOW?! HOW WAS IT WORTH A TRY?! Didn’t she realize how risky it was? Didn’t she realize that there was an extremely high probability that this was just going to make everything so much worse for him?! How could she do this to him?! What was wrong with her?! He was so damned mad, and embarrassed, and his chest started to freeze up and tighten. He was actually starting to recognize that constricting feeling now, he knew it meant that he was going to lose his breath soon, he couldn’t handle that pain on top of everything else!
    The worst part of all of this was, in spite of utterly bizarre this whole situation felt to him, he knew that he was NOT stuck in a nightmare. He could sense Bulma’s chi— That meant this was real! He couldn’t free himself simply by finding a way to wake up, he was ACTUALLY stuck in this heinous situation.
    He could… He could just go… TRY to use a different restroom somewhere else in the building. He’d done it before, with mixed results. He could do it again. If Bulma was intent on torturing him like this, he’d just find a toilet elsewhere and STAY there until his bladder decided to cooperate, no matter HOW long that ended up taking. If he had to stand at the toilet for two days straight until his body broke, so be it. He would NOT wet himself.
    Maybe that was Bulma’s true plan, she was just trying to manipulate him into using some of the OTHER restrooms in the house every once in a while. That was still utterly enraging, but he didn’t want to think she could truly be cruel enough to REALLY want him to have an accident.
    Apparently, she could be.
    Vegeta wasn’t even able to TRY to try using a different bathroom. Somehow, somewhere, Bulma had managed to obtain a TON of locks that Vegeta actually couldn’t break! He was stunned that Earth produced locks of such a high caliber— He had ASKED Bulma repeatedly to find some like this that he wouldn’t need to worry about destroying, and she’d always insisted that no Earth locks could ever be that durable.
    But, THESE were. He was TRYING to force the door open, getting angrier and more desperate when he continually failed to get it to budge. WHERE had these things come from?! And, they were on EVERY bathroom. What were the employees supposed to do? And Trunks?! Did Bulma intend to torture and humiliate all of THEM, too? She must have! If VEGETA couldn’t break apart the locks, then nobody could!
    FINE!
    He would go somewhere else! He would go… Ugh, where would he go?! He lived in an enormous, over-populated city! Where was he supposed to find any privacy?! Could he fly right now? Could he fly off, find some nice, secluded woods and pee? Could he fly to… To Kakarot’s house, explain this horrific situation to the fool and demand that he provide a solution?
    He pictured himself standing at a tree near Kakarot’s house, the two of them commiserating over how stupid Bulma’s idea today was as he slowly managed to ease his muscles and rid himself of the pressure.
    He rushed outside and tried to get into the air. But, it was no use. His bladder was much too heavy, he barely managed to lift his toes an inch off the ground before he completely lost his concentration.
    This was… Really, really bad. His face flamed as he realized that he was standing in front of the biggest building in the city, people walking and driving by constantly, as his legs tangled up and he almost doubled over.
    He ran back inside, where at least there were fewer witnesses to his disgraceful behavior.
    He just… He just needed privacy. THAT was what he needed. And… That privacy didn’t NEED to come with an actual toilet. Any container would suffice at this point. Yeah. Just… Seclusion and SOMETHING to urinate into, he didn’t care WHAT it was.
    The supply closets all locked, and he was fairly certain they all contained mop buckets… Ugh, revolting, he’d have to hide the evidence somehow afterwards, he’d have to—
    Ohhh, he could figure that out later! All that mattered right now was peeing, he couldn’t deal with ANYTHING else until after he’d finished with that!
    He struggled down a few halls and ducked into the first supply closet he passed. He twisted the lock as carefully as he could, because of COURSE Bulma hadn’t outfitted THIS door with one of those indestructible ones.
    There was a bucket, and Vegeta stood in front of it. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this… But, he was out of options. ANYTHING was better than pissing himself. No one had to know about this. No one would ever find out. He’d do his best to forget it.
    He pulled down his zipper, and—
    FLASH!
    “KAKAROT!” Vegeta yelped, jumping backwards and shielding his crotch from view as Kakarot suddenly appeared beside him. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU—“
    “I have to pee!” Kakarot whined.
    This HAD to be a fucking nightmare, it just HAD to—
    No, no. He could sense Kakarot’s chi. He was here. This was real. For the SECOND fucking time, Kakarot had teleported his way into the room while Vegeta had been trying to pee. And THIS time Vegeta hadn’t even been granted the luxury of being able to let a little bit out first!
    “I don’t care, Kakarot!” Vegeta yelled. “I’m busy, go awa—“ He stopped. Kakarot was… Here. He could use that to his advantage— He didn’t NEED to shame himself by pissing in a bucket… Keeping one hand over his crotch, he grabbed Kakarot’s shoulder with the other. “Teleport us to your house, or something. Now.”
    Kakarot frowned and touched his forehead. “I can’t do it!” He said after a second. “I have to pee so bad that my instant transmission won’t work!”
    “You JUST used it, you blithering idio—“
    “Bulma, I think I’m gonna wet myself!” Kakarot complained. “Is there anything in here I can use?!”
    Vegeta gripped Kakarot’s shoulder more harshly as confusion worsened his desperation. “Bulma isn’t IN here! What are you talking abou—“
    “Can’t you look?!” Kakarot pleaded. “Please? I can’t hold it!”
    Ugh, the fool was delirious now or something. Vegeta was starting to feel that way himself. He NEEDED to fucking go. “Kakarot, just… Just turn around while I—“
    “Bulma, please check again?!” Kakarot whimpered.
    Was he fucking hallucinating?! Yeah, Vegeta could sense Bulma too, but that was just because they were still in the same building. She was STILL in the bathroom, preventing him from using it. And Kakarot wouldn’t even do him the courtesy of turning around so he could use the fucking bucket, and—
    “Goku,” Bulma’s voice from… Where? Was Vegeta hallucinating now too? “There is NOTHING here, I have checked!”
    Vegeta blearily blinked his eyes open. For the first several seconds, all he felt was relief. That HAD been a dream, Bulma WASN’T trying to force him to wet himself, and he wasn’t about to do anything as disgraceful as pissing into a mop bucket.
    But then, as he adjusted to his surroundings, he felt a little LESS thankful for that last thing. In his dream, he’d been about to void and get some relief from the pressure churning away inside him. But, here…
    Here, he was stuck in a car with no way to go.
    And he REALLY had to go.
    A glance at the clock told him he’d been out for quite a while, and his bladder was indeed still sore after all the disobedience it had shown him yesterday. He glanced out the window, enraged to see they were STILL jammed together with a bunch of other cars.
    Then he heard Kakarot’s whining, which had followed him out of his dream.
    “Bulma, please, please, look again! Please! It’s almost coming out! I— Ah! I just leaked some!”
    Bulma tapped her foot jerkily against the floor, twisting from side to side, “I looked, Goku! There is NOTHING in this car for you to pee into!”
    “Wha— What about your other capsules!” Goku pleaded. “Don’t you have anything with a bathroom?!”
    Bulma gritted her teeth and blew out a slow breath. “Don’t remind me…” she mumbled. “I DO, but look around us— Do you see anywhere with enough space for me to pop out a house?”
    “… No,” Kakarot said. “W—Wake Vegeta up, have him fly off and g—get me a bottle somewhere!”
    “I’m already awake!” Vegeta snapped. His bladder couldn’t stand listening to this anymore. He REALLY hadn’t enjoyed hearing about Bulma’s capsules. Now, he knew she was carrying a private restroom around, but it was stuck inside one of those little pill-looking things, unusable because there wasn’t any room to open it.
    “Great!” Kakarot said. “Pleeeeaaaase go get me an empty bottle? I can’t hold it!”
    Vegeta’s frown deepened. He knew he should help Kakarot— After all the times Kakarot had… had ‘assisted’ him in similar situations, he probably owed it to him… But, Vegeta had been sitting here for so long now, his bladder was achingly full, pressure battering his opening and it took everything in him not to writhe. Standing up was going to hurt like Hell, his body was going to come alive, every discomfort magnified…
    But, that wasn’t the main issue. Vegeta could take pain. He was GOOD at taking pain. What he couldn’t take at all was humiliation; And, if he tried to fly right now, he had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t actually be able to get airborne. He simply needed to void too much for that to happen. And, Bulma and Kakarot both watching as he failed a task that was usually as simple as walking for him…
    “Go get it yourself!”
    Of course, that got Kakarot whining… “I can’t! If I stop holding my thingy, I’m gonna pee!”
    “Stop calling it a—“
    “But, you got mad before when I called it a wiener. What do you want me to call it?“
    “Just— Just—“
    “Ahhh!” Kakarot exclaimed. “More came out!”
    “Vegeta,” Bulma said, her voice was exhausted and frayed. When Vegeta turned to get a better look at her, he saw that her face was coated in sweat, and her legs were constantly jiggling up and down. “Go get him a bottle. I don’t want a mess in the car.”
    “But— But, Bulma, I—“
    “Now,” Bulma insisted, and with as frustrated and antsy as the traffic had already made her, Vegeta knew there was no room for argument.
    “F—Fine!” Vegeta tore off his seat-belt and, ohhhh…. Ohhh… Relief… That felt amazing… The momentary respite from his brutal need gave Vegeta a boost of confidence. Maybe he COULD fly! Maybe he could fly, and even find himself a bit of privacy while he was out there. Maybe he was mere minutes away from being able to go!
    First, he had to deal with standing up, though. He unlocked the car door and shoved it open. He did it much more roughly than he’d intended and his blood ran cold for a second before he registered that it HAD remained attached to the rest of the car.
    “CAREFUL,” Bulma scolded him. “Don’t tear it off! And, don’t slam it into another car!”
    Grumbling, Vegeta turned and set about forcing himself to his feet outside. After a few seconds of bracing his body for what was sure to be an onslaught of intense, burning need, he decided that the best thing to do would be to stand up as fast as possible. He launched himself upright onto the pavement outside and—
    FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!
    His bladder surged, agony burned a trail down his length, his knees buckled and for a second he feared he was going to collapse. The humiliation would kill him, and the effect of the impact on his bladder would spit on his grave. Pain crept up his back, and he bit down on his lip harshly. Please, not that… Please, don’t let it climb any higher, don’t let it reach that agonizing space beneath his ribs, don’t let his body start tearing itself to shreds…
    Taking a stabilizing breath, Vegeta stood in place for a moment, just trying to recover enough to ATTEMPT flight. He could sense the chis of all the people inside the other cars. Were they looking at him? Could they tell he really, really needed to pee? Did they think he’d gotten out of his vehicle because he couldn’t hold it anymore? Were they all thinking about him being seconds away from an accident?
    “Vegeta!” Kakarot STILL wouldn’t be quiet. “Hurry!”
    “I’m— My— My feet fell asleep, Kakarot!” Vegeta snapped. “Just give me a second!”
    “I don’t have a second!”
    Vegeta shut his eyes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. He didn’t WANT Kakarot to wet himself. Vegeta would feel really sorr— Vegeta would be so ANGRY if Kakarot had an accident! That would disgrace the entire Saiyan race! But, Kakarot was going to need to hold on for a bit longer. Long enough for Vegeta to get himself into the air, long enough for Vegeta to find some isolated spot, long enough for Vegeta to… To…
    ‘Fly, dammit…’ Vegeta ordered himself. ‘Now.’
    Vegeta tried. He focused as hard as he could on getting his feet off the ground. He felt them lift, then realized that he was just standing on the tips of his toes now because for some reason that was easing the pressure in his bladder a little. He wasn’t achieving flight at all.
    “Vegeta,” Bulma said, more frustration in her voice. “What are you doing?”
    “Uhhhh…” Vegeta turned back to look at her through the still open door.
    “Stop messing around,” Bulma scolded him, now crossing one leg over the other. “Go get a bottle for Goku— Because at least HE can pee in a bottle!” She added, with another annoyed knee bounce.
    Vegeta stared back for a second, a prickly feeling working through his spine. What… What was she…
    She could tell that he needed to pee, and… And she was MOCKING him?! She was taunting him for not being able to use a bottle?! How— How dare she! He understood that she was pissed as Hell at the traffic jam— He was too! But—But— He thought she was DONE teasing him about this! He thought she didn’t find it funny anymore!
    He shot her a glare and turned back away. Now, he REALLY wished that he could fly! He wanted to be AWAY from here. He put up with her teasing him about a lot of things. Deep down, he sometimes… Sort of… Maybe kind of liked it. But THIS was a line she wasn’t allowed to cross— And comparing him to Kakarot, too… Emphasizing to him that Kakarot was more capable than he was— It was like she just WANTED to set him off! And for what? Taking a little extra time to be able to fly?!
    He kept trying to take off, he WANTED to fly at top-speed, but now his body was less cooperative than ever. The desperation, the embarrassment, the twitching, cold feeling sinking through him… He couldn’t, he was trying as hard as he could, but he only managed to get an inch off the ground, then his bladder cramped and he dropped back down. He landed wrong on one of his feet and fell to his knees.
    Pain.
    The jolt that ripped its way through his bladder as he landed so roughly made him feel like a stun gun was being jammed into his abdomen, digging itself against the aching stone of his bladder while zapping him with billions of volts of electricity. “Nnnnh—Ah!”
    “Vegeta?” Bulma called from behind him. “Wha— What happened?!”
    Vegeta turned back around, and forced himself to basically just crawl back into the car, once he was sitting limply in his seat, he yanked the door closed and covered his face with his hands— Even though what he really wanted to do was shove them between his legs.
    “Vegeta!” Kakarot cried. “I— I need— Stop messing arou—“
    “I CAN’T!” Vegeta shouted, the vibration of his own voice making his bladder convulse yet again. “I can’t! Alright?! I fucking can’t!” Giving Bulma another furious glare, he added; “There! You happy?!”
    Bulma’s ankles rubbed together and she bounced a few times as confusion took over her flushed face. “Why would I be happy about… ANY of this? You got hurt, Goku’s about to pee on my car seat—“
    “I’m trying not to!” Kakarot cried. “I promise!”
    “Vegeta,” Bulma said. “What’s wrong, are you sick?”
    Vegeta gave a derisive sigh, rolling his eyes. She knew! She already fucking knew! She knew enough to make FUN of him, even when he was trying to do her and Kakarot a favor! “Oh, of course, you want to force me to say EVERYTHING, don’t you?!”
    Bulma rocked back and forth in her seat, her cheeks reddening. “Vegeta, you aren’t making ANY—“
    “Well, FINE! I have to piss so badly that I can’t even fucking fly, and it’s NOT funny, and—“
    “It’s NOT funny!” Bulma agreed, taken aback.
    “Then, why the Hell would you mock me?!”
    “I haven’t!”
    “‘Oh, Kakarot can actually pee in a bottle in my car, unlike you, Vegeta! You’re too damn pathetic to do that!’”
    Bulma’s expression creased and her eyes widened. “Oh— Oh, Vegeta, is THAT what you thought I meant?”
    Vegeta was still just glowering at her.
    “You gotta go too, Vegeta?” Kakarot asked. “Aw, now I’m REALLY sorry that I can’t teleport…”
    “Shut up, Kakarot…” Vegeta mumbled, shamed by his earlier shouting.
    Bulma reached a shaking hand over and touched Vegeta’s shoulder. “That isn’t what I was saying at ALL… I promise.”
    Vegeta flinched at the physical contact during a moment in which he felt so vulnerable.
    “I was just saying… It’s ridiculous, but I forgot to use the bathroom before we left the hotel… And, y’know, I wouldn’t be able to pee into a bottle, either.”
    “You wouldn’t?” Vegeta asked.
    Bulma gave him an odd look. “Um… No. No, I would not…”
    “BULMA!” Kakarot exclaimed from the backseat. “I don’t think I can— Ah!”
    Vegeta and Bulma both turned around to look at him. Kakarot was doubled over completely, his legs were tangled in knots, his hands were grasping at his crotch. His eyes were screwed shut as a mixture of sweat and pained tears glided down his face.
    “Goku!” Bulma said. “Tr—Try to—“
    “I AM trying!” Goku insisted. “It won’t stay in! I— I—“ Goku’s eyes blew back open as the leaks and dribbles that had been slipping out of him turned into a stream. He couldn’t hold it anymore, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he squirmed and writhed, no matter how much force he exerted on his holding muscles, none of it mattered. His bladder only had so much room in it, and there was nothing he could do to create space that didn’t exist. He had overflowed, and he had no choice but to sit there and pee like he had been dying to for hours.
    It felt really, really good. He’d been so uncomfortable for so long, the sudden release of his taut muscles snapping going limp felt like a reward. He didn’t even REALLY mind the warm, heavy feeling spreading over his crotch and trickling around to his backside. He had to resist a sigh of relief, because everything else about his situation WAS a problem.
    If he were outdoors somewhere, or standing over a tile floor or… Something easy to clean, then he wouldn’t be feeling so guilty. As it was, his bladder uncontrollably draining itself into the fabric seat of Bulma’s car, he was ashamed. He didn’t want to ruin Bulma’s car, he hadn’t meant to! He’d tried his absolute best to keep it dry and clean, he’d held it as much as he possibly could…
    Adding to his guilt was his knowledge that his friends both really needed to go, too. He was sure that his own loss of control wasn’t helping either of them.
    It definitely wasn’t. Bulma wanted to cover her ears, but she couldn’t because her hands had glued themselves between her legs and she didn’t dare budge them. She took in short, shallow breaths and tried to remember the last time she had needed the bathroom this badly. She couldn’t think of one, apart from maybe the time she’d full-on wet herself right after meeting Goku. Oh, please don’t let this end the same way…
    Her bladder was sending her a surplus of angry signals that told her it very well might. Her pants were digging into her engorged midsection, her seat-belt was strangling it as well. When she looked down, her belly looked bloated in an unsightly way that made her shudder. It looked awful, and it felt even worse. She was scared that, even if she managed to hold on until she was in a bathroom, she wouldn’t manage to get onto the toilet fast enough, she imagined her bladder breaking apart as soon as she laid eyes on it.
    Vegeta faced away from Kakarot, his heart thundering in his ice-laden chest. His face burned. He was blushing. He was so, so— Why was HE embarrassed?! Kakarot was the one who was… Doing that. Yet, Vegeta felt like a spotlight was on HIM, there was no doubt in his mind that he was infinitely more humiliated by Kakarot’s loss of control than the fool HIMSELF was, and he couldn’t understand why.
    And, the sound… The sound of Kakarot’s… stream hissing out. It was so damned loud, and Vegeta’s Saiyan hearing made it impossible to ignore. The noise was going straight to his still convulsing bladder, making it spasm even more, making him— Making him grip his bouncing, twisting knees in an effort to keep his hands away from his dick. He wanted to hold himself, he wanted to… He wanted to, he didn’t need to. He wanted to, he didn’t need to.
    He needed to…
    When another volt of pressure slammed through his bladder, Vegeta’s hands dove between his legs for a squeeze. His face burned even more, and he was furious at himself for it. Kakarot was literally pissing himself, Bulma was visibly desperate, and he was STILL embarrassed about grasping himself, he was STILL embarrassed that his body was forcing him to display his need. He knew no one in the car with him could POSSIBLY judge him for trying to pinch his opening shut as he squirmed as subtly as he could manage, but his humiliation continued to grow.
    He felt like people in the OTHER cars could somehow see into THIS one. And, for some reason, instead of locking onto the grown man that was actively wetting his pants, they chose instead to focus on the one that was still holding it. Vegeta turned himself back and forth a few times, but no matter where he directed his own gaze, he still felt nothing but shame.
    Finally, Kakarot was empty. Immediately after the hissing sound ceased, he was speaking “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I tried to hold it! I’m sorry!”
    Bulma tried to untangle her legs enough to push down on the gas pedal as the car was finally able to move forward a little bit more. “I—It’s… It’s fine, Goku. Y—You couldn’t help it… This isn’t even my favorite car.”
    Vegeta said nothing. His mind drew a blank when he tried to come up with some way to respond to what had just happened. He felt so… He was… Ugh, what WAS this feeling?! It was like the one he got whenever he saw Trunks get hurt! It was SO annoying! It melded with his desperation to make him feel extremely heavy inside…
    “I’m still sorry, though,” Kakarot said. “I promise, I tried as hard as I could…”
    If Kakarot didn’t stop talking in that soft tone, making Vegeta feel… Whatever the fuck THIS was supposed to be…
    Thankfully, Kakarot perked back up pretty quickly. “Hey! On the bright side, I can probably use Instant Transmission now! So, that means I can get you guys outta h—“
    “You CAN’T, Goku,” Bulma interrupted. “Until I can pull over and put the car back in its capsule, I need to stay with it. I can’t just ditch it in the middle of the road.”
    “Well… Um… Is it okay if I just take Vegeta for now? I wanna help! We’ll come back, and then once you can pull over, I can—“
    “N—No, Kakarot!” Vegeta interrupted. “That won’t be necessary.” Perhaps, if Bulma didn’t need to pee too, Vegeta would have begrudgingly accepted the offer. He would insist he was just so tired and annoyed by the traffic that he couldn’t take the frustration anymore, and that his bladder had VERY little to do with his decision to leave immediately. Such statements would be pointless, and he knew Bulma wouldn’t buy it, but it would at least give him some peace of mind.
    However, with Bulma needing to pee so badly, too… Vegeta couldn’t just… He couldn’t act like his OWN situation was more dire than hers! Of course it wasn’t! If she had to hold it then, as the stronger one, he should be required to do the same.
    “Are you sure?” Goku asked. “I don’t want you to have an… to hurt yourself.” He quickly changed what he’d been about to say at the last second. It was far more likely Vegeta broke something before he had an accident like Goku.
    “Of course I’m sure! You don’t need to ask me that!”
    Over the next half hour, they slowly crept along the road, eventually passing the wreck that had caused all of this infuriating traffic in the first place. Vegeta was miserable. The pain in his back was continuing to build, and he knew that it was going to reach its crescendo soon. He hoped he’d at least manage to keep quiet when that pain struck him. Knowing Kakarot, he’d probably grab Vegeta by the shoulder and teleport him somewhere right away.
    And then Vegeta would be able to—
    He was the strong one. Bulma was suffering. It would be so wr… It would just be shameful if he gave up like that.
    Adding to his discomfort, the car didn’t smell particularly good at the moment. Saiyan noses were sensitive, and the car reeked of Kakarot’s piss. The smell of piss was both nauseating and a constant tease on Vegeta’s bladder, which caused him to feel revolted by himself. That his body could be swayed by the scent of Kakarot’s urine…
    Highly unwanted thoughts started to creep into his mind; Things he had learned about ancient Saiyans. Namely, a very long time ago, when Saiyans were still living in caves and had yet to form civilizations, it was the norm for rivals to ‘mark their territory’ as a display of dominance.
    Fuck, Vegeta’s bladder was spasming hysterically right now, lurching and shuddering and trying to squeeze and push everything out… He hoped to Hell that being subjected to the smell of Kakarot’s accident wasn’t activating some kind of deeply primitive instinct, but suddenly the pangs in his bladder were happening more frequently. He tightened his grip on himself.
    Now that the traffic was finally clearing up, Bulma started to feel just the tiniest bit better, but not by much. At least she was finally GETTING somewhere, but now she was forced to actually pay attention to her driving again. That wasn’t easy when her legs just wanted to knot up and her hands wanted to stay glued between her legs.
    When she was at last able to pull over at a store, she released the steering wheel with a moan and grabbed at herself again. She leaned backwards and ripped off her seat-belt, finally giving her bladder some more space. But, all the space in the world wouldn’t make much of a difference now, she didn’t think she had ever been this full before, and the unsightly bulge in her lower abdomen was excruciating just to look at.
    Vegeta got… Swollen like that all the time… How did he ever manage to put up with it?! Surely, he must have wished he could claw through his own skin and get rid of it! That was what Bulma was yearning for right now!
    She could put the car back into its capsule now. Goku could teleport her and Vegeta home now.
    But… How far away would they be from a bathroom? What if they ended up being TOO far, and Bulma didn’t manage to… There was a toilet right inside the store, the walk there wouldn’t be very long.
    Vegeta needed to go HOME, though. He needed to get home right the Hell now. Goku could JUST take him, Bulma supposed. Hopefully he wouldn’t come up with a silly reason to be stubborn about it.
    Bulma opened the door and stepped out, and almost lost her footing when she was met with a whole new wave of pressure. Her bladder contracted sharply, and a bit of pee started to dribble forth. She clasped herself even tighter, but the dribble built into a spurt that continued to warm her clothing for a good two seconds before she was able to get it to stop.
    Her knees buckled and she crouched beside the car, groaning. When she managed to open her eyes, she saw that Vegeta and Goku had both come to her side, Vegeta twitching from head to toe and clasping his hands behind his back, clearly trying not to hold himself anymore. His expression radiated nothing but agony, and his thighs looked painfully tense. He was twisting at the hips and even that much was obviously humiliating to him. His eyes kept darting about his surroundings before he made himself focus on Bulma.
    “Goku,” Bulma grunted. “Could you take Vegeta home n—“
    Vegeta tore his hands out from behind his back and helped Bulma back up.
    Bulma was startled, and leaked again. “What are you doing?!“
    Vegeta gritted his teeth for a second, trying not to shout. He restrained himself to one pathetic, little whimper. Lifting Bulma had ignited the fire in his back, and now it was burning brightly. It felt like his kidneys had been punctured, stabbing, shooting pangs that were so intense he could hardly breathe. Just inhaling air into his lungs wrapped tight bands around his screeching bladder and wailing kidneys. “If you are struggling to w—walk, I will assist you,” he said. His eyes were burning, pressure filling him everywhere, his whole body hurt so damn much. “Y—You should probably go here.”
    Goku frowned, “Vegeta, you’re going to hurt yourself if you—“
    “I can help her walk!” Vegeta snapped, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It didn’t look like HE could walk very well right now himself! He was hunched over, one hand now sort of cradling his aching abdomen.
    “Vegeta,” Bulma started to say. He needed to get home… His voice was shaking and cracking, his eyes were shimmering. Goku was right, he was hurting himself.
    “I can take you home RIGHT now, Vegeta,” Goku said. “And, if Bulma needs help walking, I can do that, too!”
    ‘Dammit, Goku…’ Bulma thought. That was the LAST thing he should have said…
    “You think I’m not capable of assisting my own wife, Kakarot?!” Vegeta demanded. “Come on, Bulma…” And he started to help her towards the store.
    ‘Help’ was a very strong word there. He was moving WAY too quickly for Bulma, and she felt herself dribble a few more times when she was forced to move her thighs too far apart from each other. She was able to keep one of her hands pushed against her crotch, which stalled the leakage a little, but it would have been better if she’d been able to use both hands. Unfortunately, Vegeta was gripping the other one and there was absolutely no way she could yank it free.
    He was holding her hand much too tightly, it was actually painful. She knew he wasn’t doing it intentionally, but it seemed that with every new pulse from his bladder, his ability to control his strength worsened. His grip on her kept tensing up, too, making her hand ache.
    Vegeta wasn’t just walking too fast for Bulma, his speed was too much for HIMSELF as well. He made hurt, strangled noises in the back of his throat with every step, each one seeming to jab another hole through his agonized kidneys. But, he refused to slow down, fearing that if he did, he would stop completely and then be unable to move again.
    Once they were inside, Vegeta led Bulma to the restroom. He was on high-alert, there were other people in the store, and he couldn’t allow anyone else to see Bulma in this embarrassing and vulnerable state. It was bad enough Kakarot had needed to be present for it. Vegeta’s chest ached from how hard his heart was pounding.
    Bulma could feel his tension growing, that was clear in how the vice-like grip he had on her hand was getting even MORE firm, she winced audibly from the pain but he must have thought the noise had only been due to her desperation. He didn’t let go until they had reached the door to the bathroom, which he then shoved open for her.
    The relief of her hand no longer being crushed was amazing, but that was nothing compared to what she was about to experience. She hurried into the restroom, locked the door and tore down her pants before sitting on the toilet. Immediately, the dribbles she had been failing to hold back turned into an intense stream that crashed into the bowl with an echoing hiss.
    The sudden depletion in pressure made her moan. Her legs tingled and twitched with pleasure. It felt so good to just be able to relax for the first time in so many hours. The heinous tension in her midsection was at last going away, and she no longer felt like she was being stretched within an inch of her life. Finally, finally…
    As her stream continued to flow out and her mind cleared a little, she really, REALLY hoped that Vegeta had finally let Goku take him home now. The agony she’d just gone through was only a small fraction of what Vegeta suffered with, and he needed to feel this kind of release too.
    ***
    Vegeta waited outside the restroom, swaying from foot to foot and drumming his fingers against the wall. He yearned to shove his hands between his legs and squeeze away, but he could NOT allow himself such a luxury. He was right outside a public restroom, he had to stay as still as he possibly could, lest someone notice him and start thinking that he was seconds away from exploding.
    He wasn’t, of course. He wasn’t going to explode, because… Because he was in public! And, no matter how much it FELT like he was about to burst, that couldn’t happen to him here. Still, his bladder was thrashing like mad, he tensed his thighs, trying to pinch his opening shut between them. He could hear Bulma peeing, which both made him blush and made his insides cramp and contract with an angry fervor. He jiggled on his toes, glaring at his feet and trying to force them to go still.
    But, that simply wasn’t possible. Vegeta had to piss so fucking much, it was taking everything he had not to start openly holding himself. Especially when a particularly awful jolt prompted the smallest, shortest leak. Just a drop or two, but he was overcome with panic.
    Kakarot rushed beside him and, at first, Vegeta’s spine stiffened, his blush deepening. Now, he was failing to hold his squirms back as he waited outside a restroom, AND he was next to a guy who’d just wet his pants.
    But, upon closer inspection, Kakarot’s clothing looked clean now. He must have used his chi to dry himself off while Vegeta was helping Bulma.
    Vegeta calmed down ever so slightly, some of the heat fading from his face. “Kakarot. Home. Right n—“
    Vegeta didn’t even need to finish the command. Kakarot grasped his wrist and a second later they appeared in Trunks’s room. The boy jumped. “Wha—“
    “Hey, Trunks!” Kakarot said. “Sorry to surprise you. We just got stuck in traffic, so I had to get your dad outta there before he got so mad that he blew something up.”
    Vegeta’s blush returned. Generally, it was easiest if Kakarot’s excuses held a kernel of truth, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d think the other Saiyan was making fun of him!
    “Um… Okay…” Trunks said, his gaze going directly to Vegeta’s shuddering, twisting legs.
    Quickly, Vegeta turned and started off in the direction of his bedroom. Once he was out of Trunks’s sight, he allowed himself to slow down and paid less attention to how ‘normal’ his gait looked. He took awkward, careful steps, trying to calm the thrashing tide within his bladder. His back felt like it was completely shattered by that point, shards gouging fresh wounds into his already obliterated kidneys. Nausea rose up in his throat as he forced himself down the short length of hallway to his room.
    The closer he got, the more his bladder wailed. He leaked several more times, each one lasting longer than the last. Sweat rolled off of him, and he hoped IT was the cause of most of the dampness he could feel in between his legs. Honestly, he couldn’t tell. He was aware that his bladder was spilling over, and that his close proximity to the one place he could reliably empty himself was making him lose control. But the pressure was so awful and so constant that he could barely gauge how much was making its way out.
    He yanked his zipper down as soon as he’d shut the door to his bedroom. He’d had nightmares about this kind of scenario, in which his torment concluded with him drenching himself right in front of the toilet, unable to restrain himself for the crucial final seconds it took for him to get his clothes out of the way. He couldn’t risk letting that come true.
    Once in the restroom, he was able to shut the door, but that was ALL he had time to do. Droplets were starting to patter against the floor, the extra moment required to lock the door could result in him making a larger, much harder to clean mess.
    Kakarot was here… If anyone randomly TRIED to come near this room for some reason, Kakarot would deal with it.
    Vegeta spun around and faced the toilet, he aimed his leaking member and, for several infuriating seconds, he just continued to let out those painful, little drops. ‘Dammit, just— Just let go already! Let it the Hell out!’ His opening scorched brightly, making him sweat more as he gritted his teeth and pushed into the ache.
    A stinging, burning trickle of liquid slowly eased out of him. It felt like his tip was being repeatedly clawed into, and his bladder was still cramping brutally, but the sight of an actual stream finally starting to form already made him feel better. He forced himself to keep straining, waiting for the moment where everything in him collapsed at once and he was at last rewarded with the bliss of relief.
    It took longer than usual for that to happen this time— His bladder and holding muscles were extremely irritated. Still exhausted after yesterday’s torment, and angry at him for his stubborn refusal to let Kakarot take him home until he knew Bulma was alright— What had gotten into him?! He’d even made himself keep waiting and restraining himself long after the pain in his back had ignited. Any other day, that sensation would be the final straw, he would go to Kakarot IMMEDIATELY, unable to endure the mind-breaking torture for longer than a few minutes.
    This time, he’d FORCED himself to do it, he’d forced himself to WALK as that flared through him. He’d forced himself to listen and wait while someone else relieved themselves, his back screeching and tearing him to bits.
    He really was good at taking pain…
    He rubbed his middle, trying to soothe the raw, tender muscles there, trying to get himself to truly release. Still, he was only managing a shuddering, low-pressure stream. Like water struggling through a hose that had a few knots and holes all through it. It hurt to keep squeezing it out, and he still felt so full… It was going to take ages to get rid of it all at this rate.
    He reached over to the sink and flicked it on. Once the water warmed up, he rolled his glove off his hand and plunged his skin beneath the spray.
    That did the trick.
    His valve finally opened the rest of the way, and he started to spray. Immediately, the relief he’d been craving overwhelmed him, making his toes curl up inside his boots. He didn’t manage to stop himself in time, and sighed loudly; “Ahhhh….” A deep blush overtook his features, the sound ridiculous to his own ears.
    ***
    Bulma stood from the toilet with a satisfied sigh. Wow, she could NOT believe she’d actually made it. She’d seriously thought she was going to pee her pants. She probably WOULD have if Vegeta hadn’t helped her walk…
    Stubborn guy… He should have just let Goku do it, saved himself a little bit of agony.
    Bulma started to pull her pants up. She’d gotten them most of the way over her thighs when Goku suddenly appeared next to her. “GAH!” She screamed, stumbling to the side and frantically zipping up. “GOKU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING H—“
    “I didn’t know you were still in here!” Goku stammered. “I—“
    “WHERE ELSE WOULD I BE?!”
    “I just didn’t want you to wonder where Vegeta and me went, I didn’t want you to worry—“
    “I could have figured that out just FINE on my own!” Bulma fumed, stomping over to the sink. She cranked it on and splashed some water onto her red face. She groaned. “PLEASE tell me Vegeta isn’t STILL trying to hold it for some asinine reason…”
    “He’s not,” Goku said. “He was running off as soon as I got him home.”
    “That’s good,” Bulma relaxed some more. “Couldn’t you have waited a few more minutes before showing up? Why do you always have to embarrass me?”
    “I didn’t mean to!”
    “You’re lucky you haven’t done that to Vegeta, he’d probably knock you through a wall…”
    “Oh… Well, actually I DID do that to him once, and he DIDN’T try to kill me!”
    “You— You what?!”
    ***
    Vegeta wasn’t startled when Kakarot and Bulma arrived beside him. He’d been expecting it. He was just glad that Kakarot had kept his promise about not teleporting to him whenever his chi felt ‘loose and floaty’. Vegeta was sure his energy must have felt that way a couple minutes ago when he’d still been relieving himself.
    Kakarot had learned his lesson about such things. There was no need to worry about it anymore.
    But, Kakarot was apologizing to Bulma a bunch of times for some reason. How the Hell had he managed to annoy her so much so quickly?!
    “Just DON’T do it again,” Bulma said.
    “I won’t! I won’t!” Kakarot said. “I swear!”
    “What did he do?!” Vegeta demanded, already glaring at Kakarot.
    Bulma sighed, “Nothing. Just forget about it, oka—“
    “I accidentally teleported to her while she was pulling her pants up!” Kakarot said. “And I’m REALLY, REALLY sorr—“
    “KAKAROT!” Vegeta yelled.
    “I—“
    “YOU. ME. GRAVITY ROOM. NOW.”
    “Vegeta, you’re EXHAUSTED,” Bulma pointed out. “No sparring toda—“ She didn’t even have time to finish before the two of them were rushing off, Vegeta shouting the whole way.
    Bulma groaned.
    She decided that from now on, whenever possible, if they all had to travel somewhere together, she’d just let Goku teleport them.
  9. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from socialreject14 in Germaphobia   
    Written for the Omovember prompt “Shared Desperation”
    Warning for internalized homophobia.
    ***
    Devon’s behavior had escalated after the day Emmett ‘made’ him wet his pants in the bathroom. Even though Emmett had apologized for it, even though Emmett wasn’t entirely sure how that incident had even been HIS fault. He’d tried to finish quickly so Devon could have his turn, and if Devon hadn’t been yelling at him and making it so difficult to pee, he WOULD have been out of there a lot faster.
    Ever since that day, Devon had been just terrible. Even worse than usual. He threw things at Emmett if they were ever in the hallway together. He insulted him every chance he got. He was trying his best to keep Emmett for accessing the restrooms again. If Devon ever noticed him heading towards one, he’d beat him there and then refuse to let him use it.
    Sometimes, Emmett would beg him, apologize over and over for the incident in the restroom that day, promise to never let it happen again. Even as he said these things, they didn’t feel right to him. Shelby and Nova had both told him he had no REASON to apologize to Devon, and he knew they were right. Devon’s accident had not been his fault.
    He just thought that if he managed to APPEASE Devon, he’d be allowed to wash his hands, or use the urinal, whichever activity he was dying to do.
    His apologies never did any good. If Emmett was REALLY antsy, if his hands felt super contaminated, or his bladder was throbbing heavily, he’d rush off and try to find a different restroom, but Devon would follow at his heels. If he managed to get INTO the restroom, Devon would take advantage of the lack of supervision to grab Emmett and just hold him in place. Devon was so much stronger than him, and he couldn’t wriggle free. He’d just squirm, feeling like Devon was infecting him with grime, until the bell rang and both of them needed to go to class.
    At most, Emmett would have time to wash his hands off after Devon released him. But, if he also needed to pee, there was no way he could get that done without being late for class. And, he really couldn’t be late for class. There was a reason the sound of the bell was enough to get Devon to let go of him; The school had implemented a new rule to combat an apparent epidemic of tardies. Every minute late to a class would net a student fifteen minutes of after school detention.
    Emmett didn’t have a license yet, much less a car. So, if he was kept after school, he’d miss the bus, and his Dad would have to drive out to get him. Emmett had NEVER gotten detention before, he just knew Dad would be so disappointed in him if that ever changed.
    But, it did change. Eventually, Devon cornered Emmett in the bathroom like he always did, pinned him to the wall and held him in place as usual. The taunts began, “What’s the matter, gonna pee in your pants?”
    This time, Emmett seriously thought he would. His bladder had been surging all through his first period class, scolding him for forgetting his morning pee since he’d stayed up too late studying for a test— A test which he now worried Devon was going to make him LATE for, and one which he had NO chance of passing unless he relieved himself first. He could barely concentrate on what Devon was saying to him thanks to the heinous bloat within him, he definitely wouldn’t be able to concentrate on Math…
    “Ha, you ARE having an accident,” Devon smirked.
    Emmett glanced down to his crotch, but he didn’t see anything. He felt stupid. He knew what was coming up next. This was a favorite game of Devon’s…
    “Pfft, you fell for that again? Jeez, you can’t even tell if you’re peeing or not! What a baby…”
    “Please,” Emmett winced, trying to push past the arms forcing him against the wall. He couldn’t get them to budge, though. And they felt dirty. Emmett was sure Devon had poor hygiene. Why would he make fun of him constantly for simply washing his hands, unless he just never DID it? Not to mention, Devon was somehow totally comfortable having his palms pressed flat against the wall of a public restroom, just to keep Emmett from urinating.
    Emmett was miserable enough having his clothed back touching the filthy surface. He could feel the contamination seeping onto his skin through the fabric.
    “I’m s—sorry,” Emmett said. “Can’t you just let me—“
    “No,” Devon said. “Just pee your pants if you gotta go that badly.”
    “Please—“
    Devon removed one hand from the wall and Emmett tried to use the opportunity to break away and lock himself into a stall where he’d be SAFE from Devon and free to relax his bladder, but Devon moved too quickly. He slammed his free hand onto Emmett’s lower belly and pressed down.
    Emmett wriggled frantically beneath the touch, legs knotting up. “Nnnnh, stoppit!” He moaned. He ACTUALLY couldn’t tell if he was peeing now, his bladder was cramping, liquid shooting against his opening. His length burned, but he couldn’t tell if that was caused by the pain or by warm liquid starting to coat it.
    Devon laughed, pressed harder. “Does this hurt you?” He asked mockingly. “Do you not like this?”
    “STOP!” Emmett pleaded. He was going to burst, his bladder was going to be squeezed open by Devon’s unforgiving touch, and he was going to soak his pants right before a big test. He was going to be drenched, he was going to have to walk to the nurse with an obvious pee stain running down his legs, his own bodily fluids contaminating his skin.
    “Why should I?” Devon asked. “Give me one good reaso—“
    RIIIING!
    “Dammit,” Devon muttered, finally letting go. “This isn’t finished,” he warned as he hurried out of the room.
    For a second, Emmett just stood there. The loss of the horrific pressure from Devon’s hand felt incredible. It was enough of a relief that it made him let out a slow sigh, but within seconds his bladder was sending him shooting pains again and he had to grab himself to avoid letting loose a rather insistent leak.
    He was clutching his crotch, hopping up and down, and sweating with the effort to avoid an accident, even though he was now ALONE in a room filled with toilets. But, the BELL had gone off, he only had one minute left to get to class or else he was going to be late. He hadn’t used the bathroom since last night, it felt like he had an entire lake locked up in his body. No way would he empty out in under a minute.
    His next class was about an hour, and even if he managed to last through it without an accident, Devon would probably follow him and try to keep him from relief again afterwards.
    Emmett couldn’t go to class without peeing first. He WOULD wet his pants if he tried that. His bladder was still pulsing angrily after Devon’s torment of it. It refused to calm down all the way. Either Emmett used the toilet and let himself be a little late, or he left now and risked wetting his pants as he failed an important test because he couldn’t concentrate.
    Maybe his teacher would UNDERSTAND him being a little tardy if he explained the situation. He wouldn’t mention Devon— The one time he’d tried to report Devon for bullying, all that had happened was the principal told them to try to avoid one another, which only made Devon focus on him more.
    Emmett would just say “Sorry I’m late, I really needed to use the bathroom,” and hope for the best.
    For now, he got himself in front of a urinal and unzipped. His bladder released the instant he’d aimed but, to his dismay, it wasn’t gushing out with the force he NEEDED it to. Instead, it was a slow, dismal trickle.
    That happened occasionally. There were times where he’d get so desperate that, when he finally let it out, his holding muscles were just so shot and knotted that they wouldn’t unclench completely. So, the result was a sluggish, dribbly excuse for a ‘stream’ that barely gave him any relief. If anything, it just stung as it drizzled out.
    More importantly, Emmett was in a real HURRY now. He needed his bladder to empty as fast as possible so that he WOULDN’T be super late for class. He attempted to push and get himself to drain faster, but it was no use. The irritated walls of his bladder seemed to have forgotten how to squeeze.
    He even tried to ‘massage’ his bladder, running a hand against the solid, distended curve in his middle. That did nothing to speed up his flow, only made the aching in his pelvic region worsen.
    When he finally managed to finish, he supposed he DID feel better. The thunderous pressure had lifted, and he wasn’t terrified of having an accident anymore.
    Just like he’d tried to PEE quickly, he also tried to wash his hands quickly. But, this endeavor was no more successful than the first had been. He could still feel Devon’s grime on his skin, and he ended up needing to scrub all the way up to his elbows to silence the shouts in his head that told him he was going to get terribly sick.
    By the time he’d gotten to class, he was eight minutes late, which was equal to two hours of detention. He was called to the Ms. Hancroft’s desk, whom asked him why he was late, and he tried to explain that he’d needed to pee. She asked why he’d taken so long to do that, and he hesitated. If he mentioned how Devon hadn’t ALLOWED him to go to the toilet, he doubted anything would actually happen to his bully. Devon WOULD probably be informed that he’d TOLD though and, armed with a new reason to pick on him, everything would escalate.
    So, he shrugged. “I… I’m sorry,” he said softly.
    “See you after school,” Ms. Hancroft told him. She handed him his test.
    Emmett sat at his desk and TRIED to concentrate on the exam, but he was too nervous. His head was buzzing. He’d never had detention before, and two full hours just for relieving his bladder seemed really excessive. He debated if he should call Dad after this class finished to let him know what was going on, or if he should instead tell Shelby to inform him.
    He tried to push that from his mind so he could pass this stupid test— IT was the cause of all this, anyway. If he hadn’t needed to stay up so late studying, he wouldn’t have been so tired that he’d accidentally left the house without peeing. If he’d peed before school, he wouldn’t have been needed the bathroom, he wouldn’t have gotten cornered by Devon, he wouldn’t have been SO full that he’d had no choice but to use the urinal and be late for class.
    He would have been fine.
    He somehow managed to finish the test, and he hoped he hadn’t done too terribly on it. Once out of the classroom, he took out his phone and called Dad.
    Dad answered on the first ring. “Did something happen?” He asked. Emmett only ever used his phone at school if it was an emergency.
    “I…” Emmett stammered, voice soft and timid. “I… Um… I have detention for two hours after school today. I won’t be able to take the bus. I’ll need you t—“
    “What?” Dad asked. “How did— What did you do?”
    “I… Uh… I forgot to go to the bathroom before leaving this morning,” Emmett said. “And… I had to go, and it made me late to class.”
    “How late?”
    “Eight minutes…”
    “They’re giving you two hours for eight minu—“ Dad stopped. “Son, how much of that time was spent on peeing and walking to class?”
    “I— I didn’t time it!” Emmett said. “But… Like I said, I hadn’t gone since last night, so it took… A bit. And my next class was a couple halls away, so—“
    “How long did you wash your hands for?” Dad prompted.
    “Um… I don’t know…” Emmett said. “Not too long… Definitely not as long as it took me to… Go.”
    “… Okay,” Dad said. “Two hours for THIS is still ridiculous. Next time, just try to be a little faster if you can. Try to get it done before the bell rings.”
    “I— Uh, I tried to but…” Emmett bit his lip. Maybe Dad would do more to help with Devon than the school was. He at least didn’t think Dad would let Devon know he’d told… “I… Did try to go before the bell rang, but there’s this guy in my class, and he—“
    Before he could finish, he felt himself being shoved, his wrists being grasped and his phone getting pried away from him. “Ah—! Hey!”
    Emmett spun to face Devon, whom now held his phone high above his head. Devon was significantly taller, Emmett couldn’t reach no matter how much he stretched and Devon grinned at him. “You want this?”
    “Give it back!”
    “Babies who go crying to Daddy shouldn’t HAVE phones,” Devon said. “They’re not old enough for them.”
    “Devon—“
    Devon’s smile widened, and then faster than Emmett could react, he hurled the phone against the floor as hard as he could.
    “Why would you—“
    Ms. Hancroft poked her head out of the classroom. “What is all this yelling about? Go to class!”
    Emmett spoke without thinking “He broke my—“
    Ms. Hancroft glanced down at the phone laying on the floor. “Is that yours? Give it to me,” she ordered.
    Right. Emmett had to pick the phone back up. Off of the floor. The very scuffed, filthy floor that hundreds of people walked all over every day. His hands shook. He told himself to crouch down, to allow his fingers to make contact. If he was careful, maybe they wouldn’t even graze the ground as he gripped the phone.
    “Well?!” Ms. Hancroft asked. “Are you going to—“
    “He’s too scared,” Devon laughed. “He thinks the floor’s gonna bite him.”
    “I don’t—“ Emmett whimpered. “I just— I—“ His fingers twitched, they felt itchy. His throat was constricting as well.
    “Just pick it up,” Ms. Hancroft said, rolling her eyes. “What’s the matter with you today?”
    ‘What’s the matter with you?’
    Emmett had heard those words so many times. Whenever he couldn’t force himself to touch something, whenever he scrubbed his hands and caused the chapped skin to begin bleeding again, whenever he really lost it and started to hyperventilate for seemingly no reason.
    He knew what people saw when they looked at him… He knew they saw an escaped mental patient.
    He managed to bend down a little. When he grasped his phone, the very tips of his fingers brushed against the dirty floor. Instantly, he felt contaminated. He felt the grime moving up his fingers, through his hands, all the way across his arm. He felt it seeping through his skin— he knew it didn’t work that way, but it still FELT like it did.
    “Give it,” Ms. Hancroft repeated, her hand open.
    Emmett passed it to her. She turned it over, revealing the utterly shattered screen. “Devon, did you do this?”
    “No.”
    “I’m sure Emmett did not throw his own phone on the floor.”
    “He dropped it.”
    “I heard it being thrown,” Ms. Hancroft said. “You know what? You can join him in detention— Two hours after school.”
    So… Devon got the EXACT same punishment for busting a five hundred dollar phone that Emmett had gotten for needing to pee. Emmett didn’t see how that was in any way fair.
    Worse, now that Emmett had gotten Devon into trouble, he knew to expect even more tormenting.
    When Ms. Hancroft gave him his phone back, he wondered if his Dad was still on the line. Now that it had been on the floor, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to put the thing near his mouth until he’d sterilized it. He’d have to put Dad on speaker…
    But, a moment later he realized that it didn’t matter. The phone had shut off and refused to turn back on. Devon had done more damage than just destroying the screen, he’d broken it completely.
    Emmett had to hurry to his next class to avoid being late again. He had no time to wash his hands off, even though they felt infected right down to the bone. He was able to use hand-sanitizer, but that wasn’t ENOUGH. He needed scalding hot water, and lots of it, before he’d be able to feel clean again.
    During lunch, he managed to scrub himself properly. He felt a little better, but only by a smidge. Dad was going to be absolutely furious. Not only had he gotten detention, he’d broken his expensive phone. Dad was going to have to drive over here to pick him up. Dad was going to have to help him pay for a replacement phone. Emmett wished he could stop screwing up…
    He COULDN’T stop screwing up.
    By the end of the school day, Emmett had to use the toilet once again. Urgently, too. His bladder had a really annoying habit of filling itself up faster when he was anxious— And he’d spent the majority of today with his nerves shot to Hell.
    All through his last class, he’d been staring at the clock, willing it to move faster but frightened of what would happen when the bell finally rang. He didn’t know how detention worked, if he’d be allowed to leave the room for an ‘emergency’… He didn’t want to take the risk. No way could he hold it for two more hours, he was ripping apart at the seams already. He would NEED to pee before going to the detention room.
    But, Devon was in this class with him, and was FURIOUS with him. Emmett expected the guy to follow him from the classroom and, once he saw him try to duck into a restroom, he would grab him and refuse to let him use it. Just like always.
    Emmett was trying not to squirm. If Devon noticed, he’d know he had to pee, he’d know to follow him and prevent him from doing so. Emmett HAD to squirm, though! His thigh muscles were trembling, his back stiff as a board.
    At last, the class ended. Emmett gingerly got to his feet and slowly walked for the door. He had to move carefully so as not to disturb the engorged organ in his midsection. He had to move casually, or as Devon would know…
    He got to the door, out of Devon’s sight, and bolted. He decided to head for a bathroom that was further away from this class. Devon wouldn’t expect that. He went down a few hallways, his bladder angrily protesting each and every one of his steps. When he finally saw the door he wanted at the end of the hall, he picked up his pace.
    He was just barely past Ms. Hancroft’s classroom when she opened the door. “Where are you going?” She asked.
    “N—Need the bathroom,” Emmett said. “I’ll be right back.”
    “I’ve heard that excuse before,” Ms. Hancroft said. “Get in here.”
    “It’s not an ex-excuse, I really do have to—“
    “Really. Two ‘emergencies’ in one day? You expect me to believe that?”
    Emmett didn’t understand that logic. His first emergency had been hours ago now. It wasn’t as though his kidneys STOPPED making urine once he’d already been desperate enough times. His body wasn’t going to decide ‘Oh, guess he’s been through enough now. Better knock it off.’ He shifted between his feet, lip caught between his teeth. “I’m serious,” he said. “I’m r—really sorry, I promise I’ll be fast.”
    “Get in here,” Ms. Hancroft repeated. “If you really need the bathroom, you can use it in two hours.”
    Emmett didn’t think he could LAST two hours!
    He didn’t know what else he could do, though. He wished he was more like Shelby. If Shelby were in his position right now, she’d say “Fuck you, I’m not gonna sit there and wet my pants,” before storming off.
    Emmett… Couldn’t do things like that. No matter how desperately he needed to…
    So, obediently, he entered the room that was going to be his prison for the next couple hours. He sat at a desk, fanning his knees in and out. Maybe if he focused on something else, the time would pass quickly. Yeah, he’d read or get started on homework, or… Anything that would take his mind off of his roiling bladder.
    Ms. Hancroft went to the door again. Emmett overheard her talking to Devon. “You aren’t skipping out on this. Get in here.”
    Emmett bounced his knees as he stared at the clock. He swore it was broken. The second hand was jerking forwards way too slowly. Surely he’d been sitting here, holding back his flood, for at least ten minutes already— It couldn’t have only been fifteen seconds! Ah, he had to—
    “I really have to pee first,” Devon’s voice.
    Ms. Hancroft snorted. “Did you two coordinate this? You both have the same excuse. I’m not falling for it. Sit down.”
    Emmett stopped squirming for a second, paying closer attention. Did Devon ACTUALLY have to go? Would he be able to tend to his need in the way Emmett hadn’t been? Emmett expected Devon to be more willing to tell Ms. Hancroft off, use the bathroom whether she gave him permission to or not.
    It seemed he WAS going to do exactly that. “No,” Devon said. “I have to use the bathroom.”
    “No, you don’t,” Ms. Hancroft said. “Get back here. If you walk away from me, you’ll have detention for the rest of the week.”
    Apparently, the threat was too much for Devon, because a minute later he’d joined Emmett in the classroom, sitting as far away from him as he could possibly get. Not that Emmett MINDED that, he didn’t want Devon near him anyway.
    Looking at his bully, Emmett thought that maybe he really did have to go. He hadn’t noticed it in class earlier, but Devon was a lot more antsy than usual, shifting from side to side in his seat, tapping his feet, adjusting his pants. He definitely didn’t look comfortable.
    Emmett couldn’t find it in him to feel any sympathy for Devon. He actually TRIED to, but there was nothing there. Even as Emmett suffered the brutal throbs of his own bursting bladder, he still wasn’t able to conjure up any empathy for Devon. Not even being in the same awful situation as him could make Emmett feel bad.
    But, Emmett DID sort of feel bad for… Not feeling bad. He thought it was pretty obvious that both him and Devon were in dire need of a bathroom break, neither of them was able to hold still. Ms. Hancroft SHOULD allow them to go, and Emmett SHOULD feel sorry for Devon that she’d refused him.
    He just… Couldn’t do it, and guilt knotted up his chest as a result. The sensation managed to distract him from his bladder for a moment, but quickly that fizzled away to be replaced by the relentless pounding of his ever-worsening need.
    All he could think about was peeing, and of how angry Dad was going to be when he came to get him. The detention was already bad enough, but he’d failed to finish his phone call with him and gotten his phone broken on top of that. He was going to be in so much trouble. None of this would have even happened if he’d just remembered to use the toilet before leaving that morning!
    If he’d only done that, he wouldn’t have been so desperate that he made himself late to class. He wouldn’t have needed to call Dad and give Devon the opportunity to break his phone. His holding muscles wouldn’t have gotten so tired out that he was now, once again, struggling not to pee on himself.
    Emmett looked back up at the clock, dismayed to see that only a handful of minutes had passed. He didn’t think it was possible for him to last two hours this way. He couldn’t allow any part of his lower body to relax even slightly. If he let any of the knots unwind or loosen, he knew he’d spill. He wriggled in his seat, feet dragging against the floor as he clutched at himself.
    Ms. Hancroft looked up from her own desk, glaring down at his bouncing, crossing feet. “No foot-tapping. You’re supposed to stay silent.”
    Emmett hadn’t realized that his squirms were producing any noise. He tried to hold himself still, but could only manage it for a couple seconds before he felt a burst of heat spurt from his tip and wet the insides of his boxers. Immediately, his frenzied motions resumed. He couldn’t help it. His bladder had taken complete control, and it didn’t care about being silent.
    “Shhh!” Ms. Hancroft told him sternly.
    Emmett didn’t even try to still himself again. The hold he had over his bladder was so precarious, he had to do everything he could to keep it from breaking open and shooting its contents down his legs. The hiss of his stream angrily pounding out of him, and the splash of it striking the ground, would be way louder than any foot-tapping.
    His heart was already thundering at the horror of feeling so far beyond his limit, and the very real possibility that he may begin flooding his clothes with his own revolting bodily fluids. His heartbeat was amplified in his ears when Ms. Hancroft stood from her desk and approached him. “You need to stop making noise,” she told him. “I know you’ve never had detention before, but this room is to stay silent until you’re dismissed.”
    Emmett rubbed his ankles together, squeezing himself harder, attempting to pinch his aching urethra shut, but there was still SO much pressure right at the tip, so eager to trickle out… “I’m sorry, I just really need to use the bathroom… Please, can I go?”
    Ms. Hancroft rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “We’ve already discussed this. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that both you and Devon are suddenly having these terrible emergencies at the same time detention is starting.”
    Emmett didn’t understand how she could look at him right now and NOT realize that his bladder was close to splitting him open. As embarrassing as it was, he knew all the uncontrollable squirming, bouncing and holding made him into the picture of desperation. “I really have to go, I promise. I’ll come right back when I’m done.”
    “You have one hour and fifty minutes left,” Ms. Hancroft informed. “Even if you DO need to visit the toilet, you’re old enough to wait that long.”
    Emmett wasn’t sure what his age had to do with it. His bladder had a limited capacity and, right now, it was full. No matter how old he was, it could still overflow if he continued to be denied access to the toilet. “But, I—“
    “Sit there,” Ms. Hancroft said. “Get started on some of your homework.”
    Emmett HAD wanted to do that as a form of distraction, anyway. Though, he wasn’t sure if he could remove one of his hands from his crotch for long enough to actually write anything. He retrieved his Math book, a sheet of paper and a pencil, and just the few seconds it took to do that made his abdomen throb more strongly. Once everything was out, his hand went right back to between his legs, his bladder demanding that he resume his double-handed grip.
    As Emmett tried to gain enough control over himself to actually start his homework, Devon jiggled his knees and stared at the clock. Unlike Emmett, he’d served detention before. But, he’d never had to sit through it while THIS desperate to pee. He’d realized during his last class of the day that he actually hadn’t used the restroom since that morning, and that his bladder was none too pleased with him for that. He’d been sure that he’d be able to relieve himself before coming here, and was furious with Ms. Hancroft for not allowing it.
    He could tell Emmett was in a similar situation. Emmett wasn’t doing much to CONCEAL that after all, both hands wedged firmly between his thighs as he constantly shifted in all directions. Devon was trying not to watch him, knowing that Emmett’s utter urgency could rub off on him. Devon thought HE might be able to last until the end of detention, whereas he gave Emmett about twenty more minutes before he soaked himself.
    It was difficult not to pay attention, though. They way Emmett was moving was kind of like watching an on-coming car-wreck. It was so obvious that a disaster was about to take place.
    Devon ALWAYS tried not to notice Emmett. He really, really did. Even when they WEREN’T both desperate to pee, Devon just hated looking at him. He had ever since the fifth grade. He hated having to see him. It pissed him off.
    Emmett didn’t USED to annoy him so much. Up until they were ten, Devon really HADN’T ever noticed him, or thought twice about him. He was just… There, just one of the people he went to school with. But, in fifth grade, that was when it changed. Devon had been bored in class and just kind of looking around, day-dreaming, and then he’d seen Emmett and he’d thought to himself ‘He’s kind of cute.’
    Revulsion had filled his chest at his own thoughts. Revulsion and terror. He’d looked away, staring out at everyone else, certain that somehow they’d been able to read his mind, that they knew that he’d just thought something disgusting.
    Then, the thoughts just kept coming. Every day. Every time he saw Emmett, he’d have those thoughts, and a confused mix of feelings that left him nauseated. Devon never told anyone. He knew what his parents would do. He knew they’d be even more appalled by him than he was by himself. They’d made that clear just from how they talked about the gay couple that lived a block away from them.
    Devon did not like Emmett, because he could not like Emmett.
    He told himself that if he ignored them, the thoughts would go away. They didn’t. They just got worse. And, in sixth grade when Emmett spoke to him one day, the most horrible thing of all happened. His body did something it never had before, something uncomfortable, embarrassing, and wrong. He’d hidden it and run to the restroom. He hated himself, he was gross, he was a degenerate, he did not belong in society. That was what his parents said about their neighbors, so that meant all of those things applied to him, too.
    He wasn’t supposed to feel that way. It was all Emmett’s fault. If he weren’t around, Devon wouldn’t HAVE those reprehensible thoughts. Devon would be normal. What was Emmett’s problem, anyway? Why did he have to act timid and cute? He was acting like a girl, that was probably what had confused Devon, that was why the idea of kissing him was so appealing. Emmett KNEW what he was doing, he was trying to pervert Devon, make him feel things that he normally wouldn’t, things that he SHOULDN’T.
    He hated Emmett.
    But, the thoughts wouldn’t go away. Every time he got too close to him, the thoughts would emerge. And Devon would just get so enraged that he NEEDED to hurt Emmett for making him feel the way he did. If he just hurt Emmett badly enough, it would go away.
    It hadn’t yet.
    And now he was having trouble looking away from him again. Emmett was being so irritating, fidgeting like crazy, letting out all those choppy, pained breaths, face flushed with sweat and embarrassment. Devon hoped Emmett hurried up and pissed his pants soon, he was tired of seeing that pathetic look on his face. Once he peed himself, he was going to start crying though. He always cried when stuff like that happened, he was so weak and sensitive. He wasn’t manly at all— That was why he’d confused Devon. Devon knew he liked girls, Emmett just acted too much like a girl was all.
    Devon couldn’t name even one girl that he’d ever had a thing for.
    He’d tried going after Shelby once, which he’d scornfully admitted to himself was purely because she LOOKED a bit like Emmett. It hadn’t even worked out, she’d just punched him after barely even one full conversation and told him never to speak to her again.
    If Emmett hadn’t confused him, Devon was sure there would be tons of girls he liked. Emmett had infected him, and that was even more frustrating. The guy spent so much time cleaning himself and obsessing over germs, yet he’d STILL made Devon sick.
    Devon KNEW it was a disease that he had. His parents always said that their neighbors had a disease, and that there were cures for it, but their neighbors just hadn’t worked hard enough to heal themselves. Devon was trying to heal himself, he was trying as hard as he could to destroy the person that had done this to him, so he could get better.
    Emmett let out a whimpering moan and bounced a few more times in his seat. Devon’s own bladder shuddered, and his legs wound themselves more tautly together. He groaned as well, eyes squeezing closed. He hoped that, when Emmett pissed his pants, it didn’t lead to any sort of ‘chain reaction’ in him. Devon was beginning to actually DOUBT his ability to wait until detention was over, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it if he had to listen to Emmett’s stream flooding out.
    Devon reached down and held onto himself, gnashing his teeth together. He tried not to freak out. It wasn’t like he’d never been desperate at school before. This wasn’t even the worst bout he’d ever suffered. That had to go to the day Emmett had made him piss himself, and given him one MORE reason to despise him. It wasn’t even JUST that he’d caused Devon to have an accident, it was that he’d APOLOGIZED afterwards. That had made Devon’s anger go from a simmer to an inferno.
    What kind of moron saw the person that tormented them every day standing there in soaked pants and then just APOLOGIZED? A normal person would laugh— Devon would have been far less mad if Emmett had laughed. But, oh no, he couldn’t be fucking normal. He had to be this… sickeningly sweet, kindhearted, little— God, Devon hated him so much!
    He needed to stop thinking about that day. Because, now he wasn’t JUST thinking about how infuriating Emmett was, he was also remembering how… How fucking GOOD it had felt to pee after spending so much time with his bladder stretched to the limit. Oh, that had been so… He’d never had to pee that bad before, and for the first few seconds, before he’d realized that he was having an accident, he’d been in total bliss.
    His bladder throbbed and cramped harshly, begging to be allowed to feel that way again right now. It would serve Ms. Hancroft RIGHT to have one of the chairs here drenched in piss. It would be all HER fault. He’d told her he needed to pee, he’d been VERY clear that it was an emergency…
    The idea of deliberately letting it out was very tempting. But, Devon knew better than to allow it to come to fruition. Emmett was still here, and instead of laughing he’d apologize again, probably while wetting his own pants since the sound of Devon’s accident would be unbearable to him. Just… Just one more reminder of what a nice, charming, merciful little wretch he was. Then, when Devon got HOME—
    Emmett squeaked suddenly. There was no other way to describe the pained, horrified noise that shot out of his mouth. “Ah—!”
    Ms. Hancroft stood again, looking angrily in his direction. “Quiet!” She reminded him yet again.
    “I—I’m sorry…” Emmett whimpered, making Devon’s blood boil again. Why was he LIKE that?! A normal person would yell at Ms. Hancroft, demand the toilet, call her a bitch. Devon couldn’t even imagine Emmett swearing, he was too fucking tender and soft, it made him SICK.
    “Shhh,” Ms. Hancroft hushed him.
    “I— I think I’m going to—“ Emmett’s voice was just getting softer and softer. He was trembling, his eyes were welling up. “H—How much longer? I still— I really have to use the—“
    “One more hour,” Ms. Hancroft said. “Can we drop this now? You don’t need the bathroom.”
    Emmett flinched and went silent again. Another hour of this? He was amazed he’d made it through ONE. He could feel how sodden the crotch of his pants was, could feel the clammy sensation against his bare hands, could feel droplets oozing into his palms… It was so disgusting, he felt filthy, he wanted to let go so that his hands would STOP being contaminated every time his bladder spasmed, but they were the only things keeping his ocean at bay anymore. Every time he attempted to loosen his hold, pee trickled out straight away. He NEEDED to keep his opening pinched closed, it was the only thing stopping every drop from blasting out in a pressurized rush.
    He wasn’t going to make it. He’d explode. He really, really, really had to go. He had only managed to do a single problem on his Math homework before his bladder had shuddered with sick violence, demanding BOTH hands be placed back on his dick, and his full attention being granted to the task of keeping his urine where it belonged.
    Even IF he made it to the end of this next hour, he’d still have to stand up. He’d have to run down the hallway, he’d have to get TO the restroom, open the door, hope Devon didn’t try to stop him— because if Devon pinned him down and pushed on his bladder again now, he would explode instantaneously. He’d have to make it to a urinal, unzip his pants… It was too much. He’d never manage it all in time.
    On a whim, he decided that it might help if he crossed ONE of those things off his list early. If he unzipped his pants NOW, then all he’d need to do was pull his cock free right away. If he did it NOW, he wouldn’t have to fight with the zipper while bouncing up and down in front of a urinal. Most of his worst leaks happened when trying to undo his pants while looking at a toilet. If he didn’t need to deal with it this time, maybe he’d have a SLIGHTLY better chance of not completely drenching himself.
    He quickly released his dick, liquid immediately dribbling out now that nothing was pressing it inside him. As fast as he could, he yanked down his zipper and shoved his hands back into place. His pants being open gave him another advantage he hadn’t anticipated. He reached inside them, past the opening of his boxers, and grasped himself properly, no fabric barriers between his hands and the pipe his urine was fighting so desperately to flow through.
    The more stable grip on his member made him feel slightly more in control of himself. It felt utterly gross and dirty to be touching that area of his body in public, but no one knew what he was doing and he was going to wash himself thoroughly as soon as his bladder was finally empty. Right now, he just had to make sure he didn’t wet himself.
    Devon was struggling more now as well. The sweat running off his forehead was starting to blur his vision, since he couldn’t move his hands away from his dick to wipe his eyes. A few more seconds passed, and he felt his first leak ooze out, followed immediately by another, and then another. After a fourth leak, his involuntary releases transformed into a more consistent stream and he felt his crotch growing damp and warm. He strained, bucking against his clenched hands and moaning out; “Come ON! I’m going to wet my freaking pants! Let me use the toilet!”
    Ms. Hancroft stood abruptly, scooting her chair back so hard that it screeched against the floor. “Devon, that kind of language is not appreciated. Especially since you aren’t supposed to be speaking at all.”
    “Do you want me to pee on the floor?” Devon demanded. “Because that’s what’s gonna happen.”
    “Oh, I doubt that,” Ms. Hancroft said dismissively. “Like I already told Emmett, it’s time to drop this. Neither of you is going to the bathroom, you don’t need it. Be mature and sit quietly until I dismiss you.”
    When she was partway back to her desk, Devon muttered “Bitch…” because he was NORMAL and didn’t take this kind of shit laying down like some whimpering, gentle puppy. Like Emmett.
    Ms. Hancroft froze in her tracks. “WHAT was that?”
    Devon didn’t hesitate. She knew what he’d said. No point in denying it. “I said that you’re a bitch.”
    “That’s what I THOUGHT,” Ms. Hancroft snapped. “You just bought yourself and Emmett another thirty minutes.”
    “WHAT?!” Emmett cried out. How was that fair?! He hadn’t called her anything!
    “Don’t pretend you haven’t been part of this too, Emmett,” Ms. Hancroft said. “I’ve had to tell you to be quiet plenty of times.”
    “But I didn’t call you—“
    “You’ve been just as disruptive,” Ms. Hancroft insisted. “Now, do you want to keep it at JUST thirty minutes, or do you want to keep arguing with me?”
    Emmett said nothing, and fought not to cry as he was forced to accept that he was DEFINITELY going to wet his pants. Another thirty minutes would kill him for sure. His bladder couldn’t last that long, no matter what he did or how hard he tried to hold it back. It struck him that nothing was physically PREVENTING him from leaving this room. The door wasn’t locked, and Ms. Hancroft wasn’t some kind of otherworldly demon capable of erecting invisible forcefields. Emmett was capable of exiting the room, going to the toilet as fast as his distended, waterlogged body would let him, peeing out the barrel of liquid he was struggling to contain…
    But, he really WASN’T capable of doing that. He’d get a worse punishment, he’d probably have another detention tomorrow. Even if he came straight back, like he’d promised over and over because ALL he had to do was relieve his bladder— Please, please, for the love of God just let him pee, please…
    He realized he WAS crying now, tears burning the corners of his eyes before silently rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t move his hands to brush them away. He wasn’t sure if he was tearing up from the frustration of it all, or from just how bad everything was starting to hurt. He had to pee so much that he was getting dizzy, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it was painful. He could feel his pulse racing, the sensations that came right before he had a panic attack.
    A panic attack would guarantee an accident, and Devon would just love the Hell out of that. He thought it was hilarious when Emmett ‘freaked out’ and panicked. He thought it was hilarious when Emmett wet himself. When both those things happened at once, Devon found it hysterical. Emmett would never hear the end of it…
    That made him cry more, made his chest tighten more, he knew that if he didn’t soothe himself somehow it was only a matter of seconds before he was a shaking, hyperventilating mess and piss was exploding out of him uncontrollably.
    He had to breathe, had to remember how. Deep breaths, deep, slow breaths. They slowed his heart’s rapid fire beats but they stretched the skin over his swollen bladder so painfully. Every exhale made him dribble, but the panic was ebbing somewhat. Some control was coming back, his vision was clearing. ‘Calm, calm… Please, try to calm down…’ he thought. ‘Stay calm, please… Don’t freak out, don’t pee, don’t— Please, please let me pee, I can’t hold it, I need to pee now, please— Just— Just calm down. No peeing. No panicking.’
    While Emmett tried not to lose all control over himself, Devon was doing much the same thing. His bladder felt seconds away from erupting like a geyser. Time was moving in a strange, fragmented way, and he had no idea how much longer he still had to wait. Now that he’d gotten an extra half hour tacked onto their punishment, he too was positive that an accident was inevitable. He just— He couldn’t take much more of the pressure. His bladder was in agony. His whole body was in agony. If he didn’t pee soon, he was probably going to just… Die, or something.
    Another leak, then another, and another. He was peeing— Having an accident— But not in full force by any means. He needed to completely open the floodgates, piss like crazy, letting out a fucking fire-hose of pure, blissful, orgasmic relief. The knowledge of what awaited him at home if he came back drenched was the only thing keeping him from giving up altogether. The only thing preventing him from just admitting defeat and letting go, giving over to the ecstasy of release.
    Devon heard the classroom door opening. A short blond man walked in. Devon didn’t recognize him, but when he opened his mouth and spoke, he knew who he must have been. “Hey, son. Why are you still here? You said two hours, right?”
    Before Emmett could tell his father anything, Ms. Hancroft informed; “He and Devon both earned another half hour, you can go wait for him somewhere else.”
    Emmett’s dad didn’t leave right away, though. “Why an extra half hour, if you don’t mind me asking?”
    “Well, that one swore at me,” Ms. Hancroft pointed to Devon. “And the other wouldn’t stop asking to go to the bathroom.”
    Emmett’s dad looked at his son, whom by that point was half-way out of his chair, legs knotted up as he swayed restlessly and dug his hands firmly between his writhing thighs. “I see you didn’t let him,” he said.
    “He doesn’t need to,” Ms. Hancroft explained. “He’s trying to leave early.”
    “That doesn’t sound like my son… He’s only HERE to begin with because he needed the bathroom, isn’t he?”
    “He’s here because he was late,” Ms. Hancroft corrected. “Even IF he was late because he was using the toilet— which I doubt— that isn’t an excuse.”
    “I’m sure he DID need to go, I know my son,” Emmett’s dad said. “He doesn’t skip class. I’m going to be taking him home now.”
    “He still has—“
    “He HAS to use the bathroom,” Emmett’s dad interrupted. “Frankly, it’s ridiculous that basically ANY time I hear about him being in trouble at school, it’s over THIS. Don’t you have better things to do with your time here? I’m concerned about how much he’s actually being taught when it sounds like more focus is put on making sure that he— a legal adult, I might add— isn’t allowed to use the toilet when he needs to.”
    “If you take him now, he will have to serve the rest of his time tomor—“
    “No,” Emmett’s dad said. “If he receives any more detentions for needing the bathroom, he won’t be serving them. I’m done with this. Come on, son.”
    Emmett tried to get all the way onto his feet, but— Ahhh, it just hurt so much, it was so bad— All he could manage was a half hunched over posture and when he walked his knees rubbed together. His hands were still pressed at his crotch.
    Devon watched Emmett leave with his father. A rage boiled in him. He was… Overcome with envy. And it wasn’t even just because Emmett was getting to relieve his bladder now, while HE had to keep holding it. Devon knew his own dad would NEVER do anything like that. The day he’d wet himself while in line for the toilet, when he’d come home and hadn’t been able to hide his soaked clothes fast enough, his dad had beaten the absolute SHIT out of him for being too damn weak to make it to the toilet in time.
    Emmett’s dad just fucking CODDLED him when he had emergencies. It was disgusting.
    ***
    “Okay, okay…” Dad said as they finally reached the door to the room Emmett needed so badly. He sounded as relieved as Emmett felt, which made his son blush. It was obvious Dad had been concerned that he wouldn’t make it all the way down the hall in time.
    Emmett shoved open the door and frantically rushed for the closest urinal. He was SO glad he’d unzipped his pants already, because he was already gushing as he fumbled himself out of them. His stream blasted the porcelain with a loud, amazingly satisfying hiss. His breathing slowed down as the awful pressure eased and faded away into nothingness. Lightness overtook him, a floaty feeling encompassing his whole body.
    When he was finally done, he zipped his pants back up and cringed at how clammy, cold and gross they felt. He was glad he was going straight home after this, he needed to shower and get changed. He scrubbed his hands at the sink, the water as hot as he could stand it. They still felt unclean when he was done, the memory of the small gushes of pee flowing into his palms still fresh in his mind.
    When he left the restroom, he blushed more. It was embarrassing to have his Dad see him so desperately full like that…
    “Made it?” Dad asked.
    Reddening even further, Emmett nodded. “I’m really sorry…”
    Dad shook his head. “You were punished for needing to pee— Something you can’t even HELP doing.” He was getting quite worried about his son and daughter at school. If they weren’t allowed to use the toilet when they needed to, and apparently it didn’t matter how blatantly desperate they were, that was going to be problematic.
    Emmett had had TWO emergencies today. While the first one had been due to him skipping his morning pee, the second one had taken place just a few hours after he’d last gone. His Dad was accustomed to how often he usually needed to pee before it got urgent, and that was a lot faster than usual.
    He knew MUCH better than to actually SAY anything about this to his anxious, hypochondriac son, but he was a little worried that the number of times he’d been denied the toilet at school had done something to his bladder.
    They drove home, and Dad asked Emmett what had happened during their phone call, why it had suddenly disconnected. Emmett was forced to admit that his phone had gotten broken. “This guy took it from me and threw it on the ground,” he explained. “It got shattered. I’m sorry.”
    Dad frowned. “Who?” He asked. “He, or his parents, can pay for a new one.”
    Emmett hesitated. “Don’t go to his parents, he’ll just get mad.”
    “…Is someone bullying you?”
    “A little,” Emmett said. “He just doesn’t like me. He’s hated me since fifth grade, but when I tell people, it just gets worse, so—“
    “This has been happening for YEARS? Why haven’t you said anything?”
    “I already TOLD you, whenever I tell anyone, he gets worse!” Emmett said. “I don’t know WHY he hates me, but he does. I’m just waiting to graduate so we don’t have to see each other anymore.”
    ***
    Devon did manage to wait until detention was finally over. He made it to a urinal and relieved himself at last, but the relief was bittersweet. His pants were visibly damp, a tell-tale wet spot prominent over his crotch. He hoped he’d be able to hide it from Dad at home until he was able to get changed. He knew there would be Hell to pay if it got noticed.
  10. love
    secretomoact reacted to Ms. Tito in Limits (Dragon Ball Z Fanfiction)   
    Happy belated anniversary to this series!
  11. laugh
    secretomoact got a reaction from slothmallow in What time of night/sleep does bedwetting occur?   
    Heh, my cousin tried that on me once... Only problem was that he came in less than ten minutes after I'd gotten into bed. He didn't bother waiting for me to actually fall asleep first, which kind of prevented the whole thing from working. 
  12. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from pman76 in Killer Omorashi   
    Written for the Omovember prompt "Too Stubborn To Admit It". 
    I hope this one fits the prompt okay. Since what he’s ‘too stubborn to admit’ ISN’T that he needs to pee.
    ***
    Jesse and Julian shared a bed at night. It wasn’t that they were a couple, or anything. Just, they only had the one bed. And it was a big bed, anyway. And… Okay, maybe Jesse did like that Julian was really warm. And, maybe some nights he’d snuggle closer to him if he was feeling extra chilly, but… But, that was all! 
    Julian liked when Jesse cozied up to him like that, even if he knew the other was just seeking his body-heat. It felt nice, Julian didn’t even mind it when Jesse wet the bed and caused the both of them to wake up damp. 
    It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Jesse would wet himself at some point during each night. It didn’t matter how long before bedtime he ceased drinking water, or if he peed just a minute or two before it was time to sleep; His bladder would always fill up and empty itself while he dozed. A few times, Jesse had tried to use a moisture sensor and alarm in order to wake himself up when he began to leak, but the alarm never managed to actually rouse him. It never failed to wake Julian, but by the time he’d shaken Jesse into consciousness, the other’s bladder had already finished draining out into his pants. 
    They did try to minimize the damage of Jesse’s night-time accidents. The mattress had a protective cover, and Jesse’s half of the bed always had an absorbent mat for him to lay on top of, which soaked up the majority of his spilled liquids. If he rolled away from the mat in his sleep though, the sheets always had to be washed.
    When morning came, they didn’t talk about it. Julian didn’t groan “Really, Jesse? Again?” because he’d known to expect it. It was so rare that Jesse managed to wake up dry that Julian only commented on THOSE mornings, things like “Wow, you actually made it…” or “Cool, you’re all dry for once!” Things that would always be met with grunted insults as Jesse ran to the toilet with his hands between his legs— Because whenever Jesse actually held his pee through the night, he’d wake up feeling unfathomably desperate to go. 
    That night, Jesse relieved himself right before bed, just as he always did in spite of knowing how futile it really was. He hadn’t felt much urge to pee, but when he relaxed and let it flow his release lasted for over half a minute. He knew that, had he been able to sense things as intensely as other people, he probably would have been squirming about as he’d lowered his pajama pants. He also knew that, had he been able to sense things as intensely as other people, the relief of his bladder deflating would have been pretty exquisite. 
    But, Jesse was numb, and the feelings weren’t extreme enough for him to notice them. He hadn’t registered the fullness pulsing in his bladder, nor had he been able to truly enjoy his release. 
    Unlike Julian, whom knocked on the bathroom door as Jesse finished up, asking how much longer he was going to be in there. Jesse opened the door, seeing Julian tapping his foot and shimming his hips impatiently. “Fucking finally…” Julian mumbled, pushing past Jesse and up to the toilet. 
    Julian hadn’t shut the door and Jesse watched as he freed his dick and released a clear stream of pee into the bowl. From the force of Julian’s release, he had certainly needed to go, but it wasn’t as powerful as the jet of urine Jesse had let go of a moment earlier. That… Fascinated Jesse. He’d evidently been fuller than Julian, yet Julian had FELT his need much more strongly. When Julian sighed loudly once he’d finished after only around twenty seconds, that too piqued Jesse’s curiosity. He wondered what it would be like to actually FEEL things the way Julian did… Would Jesse be able to hold less than he could now if he was made to experience the discomfort from the moment his bladder first began to fill up? 
    Jesse thought about that as he fell asleep. His bladder was large, it could certainly fit a lot inside it… But, once it finally managed to get so full that Jesse actually realized he needed to go, the pain was IMMENSE and he’d want it all OUT right that very instant! If he was able to register those aching pinches and throbs sooner, he doubted he’d be willing to hold even half as much as he did now. It just hurt too badly! 
    *** 
    Jesse was at the hardware store with Julian. This was where Jesse purchased ropes and other materials he needed for ‘work’. They alternated between hardware stores every time they needed to pick up something. Julian thought it was pointless. “We should just keep going to the one closest to home,” he always complained. 
    “Sure,” Jesse would roll his eyes. “We should go buy a bunch of ropes, saws and whatnot from the same location every fortnight. That won’t look suspicious in the least!” 
    And Julian would nod and say, “So, you agree? We don’t have to go so far today?” 
    To which Jesse would always smack him on the head and not say another word. 
    During this particular trip, Jesse found himself in the midst of a major emergency. Like always, the urge to urinate hit him all at once and, suddenly, an intense needful surge was pulsing in his bladder. It was bad enough that he stopped mid-step to clench his thighs together, groaning. “Mmmf…” 
    “What’s the matter, Jesse?” Julian asked him. 
    Jesse looked away. He could not understand why the need to relieve himself always caused him to feel embarrassed. It was idiotic; Everyone had a bladder, it wasn’t as though he was so proud as to pretend he was an exception to that. It still made him blush sometimes to tell Julian what he needed to do— Particularly if Julian hadn’t said that HE needed to go first. “I… I must excuse myself for a moment, Julian,” Jesse told him. 
    Of course, Julian couldn’t take the hint. He was as dense as a neutron star. “Hm? Why? Did something happen?” Julian sped directly to Jesse’s side. Thank God the moron at least had enough intelligence to whisper his next statement; “Do you think someone is onto us here?” 
    Jesse heaved a heavy sigh. They were alone in this aisle. They’d been alone in the last several aisles. If someone had noticed them and was following them around for some reason, then they were invisible. “No, Julian. I just… I require use of the facilities now, alright?” 
    “Um…” Julian frowned. “O—Ohh, right. That’s a fancy way to say ‘toilet’, isn’t it?” 
    “… Yes,” Jesse said. “Please, excuse me. It is rather urgent.” 
    “It’s okay, I’ll go with you!” Julian said, hugging Jesse and causing him to grimace. “I gotta go too all of the sudden.” 
    Jesse groaned again. Julian had the most peculiar habit of always ‘suddenly’ needing to pee the moment Jesse said that HE did. “Alright… Just… Leave the cart close to the restrooms.” 
    “Will do,” Julian said, and they started in that direction. Jesse grew more and more and more desperate with every step. This interested him a bit. It always sort of had, the way his bladder seemed to just KNOW when he was getting closer to a toilet. The way it… Anticipated it, started to loosen itself up as it prepared for relief, only succeeding in making Jesse have to fight harder not to let go too soon. 
    All that loosening inside his bladder stopped when Jesse saw the massive line for the men’s room. Oh, this was ridiculous. It spilled out the door… The men’s room wasn’t supposed to have a line this big! Ever! He’d only ever seen these sorts of crowds in front of the women’s one before. Jesse hopped up and down a little as he took his place at the end of the line. 
    “Aw, shit,” Julian said. “This is gonna take a while! Can you make it, Jesse?” 
    Jesse glared at him. What an irritating question… 
    “Did you bring your knife? Why don’t you just stab everybody?” 
    What in the world was wrong with that boy, and how did Jesse ever find himself stuck with such an incompetent fool? The person right in front of them had looked back over his shoulder, so Jesse forced a smile, remembering that there WAS a reason someone would make a statement like that even if they HADN’T ever actually stabbed anybody. “Eheh, you are so humorous, Julian. But, please do not make me laugh! That is way too hard on my bladder!” 
    “O—Oh, right,” Julian said, quieting down. 
    Jesse leaned against the wall and hitched his hips, wriggling from side to side. This was so bad… His insides were twisting, brimming with urine. He had to go so much… He wished that he COULD stab everyone in front of him, but he did have guidelines for choosing victims, and to his knowledge none of these people would pass. Not that he could just DO that outside of his basement, anyway. 
    He could perhaps use some of his other skills, though. Jesse was very good at manipulating people, after all. In the past, he’d managed to talk others into doing all sorts of things they’d never do ordinarily. This time, he was merely trying to get to the front of a line, so it should be far, far easier. 
    The main tool at Jesse’s disposal was always his appearance. He looked young. His eyes large and wide, his body small and slim, and his voice noticeably higher than most eighteen year olds’. It was easy for him to pass as someone much younger. And, people DID tend to move out of the way when a kid needed to urinate really badly… 
    But, to really sell it, Jesse would have to allow himself to do the major, full-blown pee-dance that his bladder was currently begging him for. He’d have to say, out loud, AND in childish terms, that he was very desperate for relief. 
    No. 
    That was far, FAR beneath him, 
    Besides, he could wait. 
    He could definitely wait. 
    A ripple of painful urgency tore through his bladder and he thought that, perhaps, maybe he COULDN’T wait! He crossed his legs tightly, not even meaning to do it, and started to open his mouth. “I— I— Have to—“ 
    The man in front of him turned around, and now he looked different than he had a moment ago when Julian had made that comment about knives. The difference was stark, the man now had no eyes, just a smooth patch of skin where they should have been. 
    And, Jesse realized right away that he was not actually at the hardware store waiting in line to pee. He was instead at home, in bed, and fast asleep. 
    That was the most peculiar aspect of Jesse’s nocturnal enuresis. Most nights, something would occur during his dream that would alert him to the fact that he was sleeping. He’d be aware of it, it would be clear to him that, if he let his bladder relax, he would wet his bed. But, that knowledge would never be enough to get him to WAKE UP no matter how hard he tried. He’d pinch or slap himself in an attempt to rouse his body awake, but would always fail. Then, before long, he’d need to urinate so badly that his dream-self had an accident at the same time his real-self did. 
    Now that he knew he was sleeping and that none of this was real, Jesse saw no reason to try to preserve much of his dignity. None of these people were ACTUALLY watching him, and the person beside him wasn’t the REAL Julian. So, he let his hands drop down to his crotch for a very firm squeeze and didn’t dare to move them. 
    “Ah, yeah,” Julian said. “Guess you figured out you’re sleeping?” 
    Even in Jesse’s dreams, Julian was a moron who kept pointing out the obvious… “I have,” he gritted out, bucking his hips against his clenched palms. 
    “Well, that means you CAN kill everybody here, right?” Julian said. “No consequences if it’s a dream. Just stab everyone so you can be at the front of the line.” 
    “Julian… You complete and utter… Emperor of the dullards…” Jesse grumbled. “Even if I do that, I still wouldn’t be able to void. I’ll only end up soiling the sheets again. What I NEED to do is wake up before I… Before I…” Wow, even inside a DREAM Jesse was embarrassed to say— 
    “Before you burst and wet yourself?” Julian finished for him. 
    “C—Correct…” Jesse turned away again. “I do sincerely hope that the dream version of you is at least SLIGHTLY less useless than you are in reality.” 
    “Hey!” Julian frowned. “If you keep being a dick, I’m not gonna help you wake up!” 
    Oh, for the love of… “This is my dream,” Jesse reminded. “You only exist inside my mind, you cannot possibly disobey me here!” 
    Julian stuck his tongue out, “Watch me!” He ran off. 
    “Return here, at once!” Jesse ordered, chasing after him. Now that he knew he was asleep, he was confused by how the jolt of his feet slapping the ground over and over still managed to shake up his bladder and slam the urine inside of it so roughly against his sphincters. He wasn’t ACTUALLY running around or stomping, so why did his bladder react as if he were? Was it just because it was what his brain EXPECTED to happen if he ran around while full of pee? 
    He didn’t know where Julian was now. And he wasn’t in the hardware store anymore. The dream had swapped locations to inside his house. He heard a toilet flush and watched Jesse leave the restroom. “Ahhh, better…” Julian sighed. “Thank you so much for letting me go first!” 
    Okay, was this actually Julian’s dream? Because real-Jesse would NEVER allow Julian to use the toilet first if he was this desperate— Or even if he didn’t feel like he had to go at all! Real-Jesse would make Julian WAIT. “Um… You are most welcome,” he said. Since he apparently couldn’t control dream-Julian, it would probably serve him well to at least get on his good side if he wanted help with waking up. 
    “Love you,” Julian told him. 
    Eheh… Um… Wow! Jesse REALLY couldn’t control dream-Julian, could he? Because that was DEFINITELY the LAST thing Jesse would ever want to hear come out of his mouth! “That is… Nice, Julian. But, I still require—“ 
    “I know, I know, you still gotta piss super bad,” Julian said. “Your turn now.” 
    Jesse shook his head. This was one of the things his dreams liked to do. They’d provide him with lots and lots of opportunities for relief, trying to tempt him into letting go and freeing himself from the pressure. “I cannot do that, Julian. If you recall, I am actually still asleep at the moment.” 
    “O—Oh, right!” Julian said. “I need to wake you up!” 
    Good. Being nice to dream-Julian HAD gotten him to be more willing to help. 
    “I know, I’ll startle you!” Julian said. He ran to Jesse’s side and hugged him tight. 
    “This is you ‘startling me’?” Jesse asked. Again, even though he knew he wasn’t ACTUALLY being squeezed around his midsection, his bladder felt like it really WAS being crushed in Julian’s arms. ‘Perhaps in the real world he IS hanging onto me?’ he wondered. 
    “Not yet,” Julian said, before giving Jesse a long, sloppy kiss on the cheek. 
    “Ah—No!” Jesse shoved him away. “You imbecile! For what purpose would you—“ 
    “To shock you awake,” Julian said. “Besides, this is YOUR dream. You said earlier that you can control me ‘cause I’m inside your brain or whatever, right? So, that must mean I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t WANT me to do!” 
    “I do not wish to have your lips touch any part of my body,” Jesse said. “Not even when we are outside the bounds of reality. You are speaking nonsense.” 
    “Even if you don’t WANT it,” Julian said. “Since it happened in your dream, that means you DEFINITELY at least thought about it. Your brain makes your dreams, doesn’t it?” 
    “Th—That is correct,” Jesse said, flustered. He started to pace in place as his bladder convulsed more and more. “I— Simply must have been subconsciously dreading the possibility that the REAL you would attempt such a maneuver one day.” 
    “Oh,” Julian said. “Well, if that didn’t wake you up, let’s try something else… Like… In the real-world, we are probably very close together, aren’t we?” 
    “Yes, Julian,” Jesse muttered. “We rest in the same bed, as that is the only one in our possession.” 
    “Ah, but we could GET a second, couldn’t we?” Julian prompted. “When we got that one, we could have gotten two smaller beds for around the same cost, right? And, you could always force me to sleep on the floor— You know I’d probably do that if you commanded it. But, for some reason, you picked the large bed, and you have never even attempted to make me spend the night on the ground.” 
    “We live in the mountains,” Jesse said. “It is much too frigid to lay on the floor throughout the entire night.” 
    “Oh, so when you give a reason, it’s one that makes it sound like you care about my health,” Julian said. “Why might that be?” 
    “Because you’re going to be even more useless if you become ill, you absolute and total half-wit,” Jesse snapped. “Whatever it may be that you are trying to allude to, rest assured that you are incorrect. As usual.” 
    Julian was right at Jesse’s side again, Jesse blushed as the other watched him stomp his feet and twist around, his hands still hadn’t budged from between his legs. “Maybe your dream will let you wake up once you admit it…” he said. “You want to go pee, don’t you? You want to make it to the toilet in time?” 
    “I… I do wish to relieve myself, yes,” Jesse agreed. His bladder surged away within him. He bent over at the waist and dug his hands firmly into his groin. Sweat beaded up on his brow. “But, I have nothing to confess.” 
    “You are a serial killer,” Julian said. “I think there’s a lot to confess…” 
    “You—“ Jesse gnashed his teeth together. “You know that isn’t what I was referring to!” 
    “Ah, so you DO realize what I’m trying to make you say!” 
    “N—No,” Jesse insisted. He twisted around, pressure mounting in his core. His entire body felt full, bloated and overtaxed. In the real word, he was probably twisting around in the sheets so much they were getting tangled. He was probably kicking the Hell out of Julian every time he turned. Served the moron right, it was what he deserved for having such an irritating doppelgänger in Jesse’s dream. 
    “If you admit it, you might wake up…” Julian said again. 
    “I will not, because I don’t like you!” Jesse snarled. “You— You— You drive me— You drive me up a wall. You dimwitted imbecile!” 
    “Hm, looks like that didn’t work…” Julian said. “You’re still here… How much longer do you think you can hold it?” 
    “If you keep this up, the real version of YOU is going to get wet too, you realize?” 
    “Why would that be?” Julian asked. “Is it maybe because you’re cuddling against me?” 
    “N—No,” Jesse said. “Th—The mountains. We live in the mountains. The temperatures are very low, bitingly cold. I get… Chilly easily. So, if we are even within an inch of one another right now, that would be the sole reason for it. I— Ahhh—haaa…” Jesse hissed through his teeth as his bladder gave a thunderous lurch and he nearly let it all go right then and there. 
    “You are running out of time…” Julian noted. “Better hurry up.” 
    “I… I get my sheets damp every night,” Jesse said. “Why should I obey your whims to avoid it this time? I have grown used to it.” 
    “You still want it to stop,” Julian said. “You hate wetting your bed so often.” 
    “I— I do despise it,” Jesse agreed. “But, there is nothing I can do about the situation.” 
    “There might be, at least for tonight…” 
    “Ah— I’ll… I’ll restrain my urges until I wake up,” Jesse decided. “I—“ He bit down on his lip when he felt a pulse of urine seep out. He was sure THAT had happened in the real world too. He felt it too clearly, the damp warmth of his release, the eagerness of his bladder to let the rest out. He didn’t know how much time was left until morning, when his body would hopefully wake up of its own accord. “I… I…” 
    “Yes, Jesse?” 
    “You are… I… I tolerate you, alright?” Jesse blurted out. “I can put up with having you in my presence.” 
    Jesse didn’t wake up. His bladder boiled and surged. His sphincters grew weak and another dribble spurted out. 
    “Err,” Julian made a noise like a gameshow buzzer. “Nope. Try again.” 
    “Fine…” Jesse huffed. This was… This was just a dream. Nothing he did here mattered. Nothing he did here would have consequences. He could say whatever he wanted here and none of it would follow him after he’d woken up! 
    But, then it would be in his brain. It would stay there. This… Realization. This realization that wasn’t so much a realization as it was an acknowledgement. An acknowledgement of something Jesse wanted to stay buried. 
    He loved Julian. 
    He didn’t want to… He didn’t want to have sex with Julian. He’d never wanted that with anybody, the thought made him feel sick to his stomach almost. But, he wanted to spend every day of his life with Julian. And Julian loved him too. Julian loving him was, at first, just a tool to get the other to go along with whatever Jesse wanted, but somehow Jesse had come to return those feelings. 
    It was a shock to his senses. He knew he was CAPABLE of loving another person. He’d loved his Mother, anyway, so the necessary wires were at least THERE in his head. But, how had he managed to end up loving an utter twit like Julian?! 
    It was beneath him! 
    “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Julian asked him. “Say it.” 
    “I… I… I am… In love with you,” Jesse said. 
    “There we go,” Julian said. “I bet you’ll be getting up any minute now…” 
    Jesse did blink himself awake a few seconds later. 
    Immediately, he was feeling between his legs, but a moment later when he registered the immense pressure against his urethra, he realized he’d actually managed to wake up before his sheets got wet…Wait. He’d ACTUALLY managed to wake up before his sheets got wet! He’d done it! Finally! 
    But, he could feel the pee trembling right at the very edge of dripping out and he needed to press his hands very firmly against himself to keep it where it was. When he did that, he felt there WAS actually a little bit of dampness between his thighs. Not a lot. Definitely not the catastrophic drenching he usually woke up with. 
    The problem now was that he wasn’t so sure if he could drag himself to the toilet in time. He may very easily end up with wet sheets anyway! He swore he had to go even worse than he had in the basement that afternoon! “Ohhh…” he moaned involuntarily as he tried to sit up, the action causing the waistband of his pants to strangle his bladder mercilessly. He didn’t dare stop holding himself. 
    He had no idea how he was gonna stand up and walk down the hall like this, and he wished he’d had the foresight to sleep with an empty bottle in his bed. His bladder was splitting apart and wanted to be emptied RIGHT now. 
    
He reminded himself that it was SUCH a short walk to get to what he needed, and slowly, very slowly, set one foot down on the ground. 
    HSSS!
    A jet of pee flowed forth immediately afterward and he pinched his opening shut as he scrambled all the way out of bed. He stood there, curled up on himself and gripping his dick for dear life for several seconds, breathing harshly in and out. Then, he made himself break into a run towards the restroom. He was leaking like crazy the entire way, but he thought trying to get there FAST would give him more of a chance of staying mostly-dry than taking slow, careful steps would. 
    He made it to the door. Relief, finally… He reached out for the knob and turned it. 
    But it didn’t budge. 
    He immediately knocked on it as loud as he could. “Julian!” he shouted at the locked door. “You ignoramus! Get out of there this instant!” 
    “Wha…?” Julian responded tiredly, before a slow trickle could be heard on the other side of the door. 
    Jesse tried not to imagine Julian sleepily sitting on the toilet, his eyes barely open as his bladder drained. He tried not to imagine the relief he must have been feeling. 
    “I am experiencing a cataclysmic plight, Julian!” Jesse said. “I require that room IMMEDIATELY.” 
    More hissing liquid, followed by a yawn. “…Y’mean y’ actually woke up in time?” 
    Jesse fought down the embarrassment as he confirmed that yes, he had. 
    “Okay,” Julian said with another yawn. “Well, I’ll be done in a minute. Sorry, woke up bursting.” 
    Jesse danced in place, certain Julian could not have woken up as desperate for the toilet as he had. Jesse kept alternating between gripping his crotch and trying to pull the waistband of his pants away from his bladder. He wished he had a third hand! He felt more drips spilling out with each passing second, and the sound of Julian’s stream splashing into the bowl was NOT helping him at all. 
    Then, finally, he heard the toilet flush. 
    “Hurry!” Jesse demanded. “Hurry up! I’m— It’s really dire, I’m about to—“ 
    The door finally opened and Julian stumbled out, “Alright already, jeez. It’s all yours.” 
    Jesse hurried in, yanking at his pajama pants as he went. He allowed them to fall around his ankles as he aimed his leaking dick at the bowl and allowed his aching muscles to surrender to the ocean inside his body. “Haaahhhh…..” Pee flowed forth in a long, heavy stream, sloshing loudly into the bowl. 
    He heard snickering. 
    His eyes popped open, and he realized he hadn’t shut the door… And he’d been so eager to go that he’d just dropped his pants all the way to the ground since it was quicker than unbuttoning them. Julian was watching him void relentlessly with his posterior exposed… 
    “Cease your infernal laughter!” Jesse snarled. “And stop spectating!” 
    “You— You just—“ Julian laughed more. “You look like a toddler, pissing like that!” 
    Jesse didn’t know what in the world his dream had been on about. He HATED that little pissant with every fiber of his being! 
    “Aw, Jesus… I’m sorry Jesse,” Julian said. “You just look silly, that’s all… And, holy fuck, how long are you gonna piss for?” 
    Jesse frowned. His bladder still felt pretty full to him… “That is no concern of yours.” 
    “Seriously, Jesse,” Julian said. “That’s a CRAZY amount, I’m just IMPRESSED it didn’t all end up in the bed.” 
    “SILENCE!” Jesse barked. And he most definitely didn’t feel GOOD about Julian sort of… ‘praising’ him for keeping the sheets dry! Not at all! 
    Jesse finally finished after nearly two minutes, and sighed again as he pulled his pants back up. He turned to the sink, scowling in the mirror back at Julian. “Did you NEED to watch through the full duration like that?” 
    “No,” Julian shrugged. 
    “Then, WHY—“ 
    “I was just curious how much was gonna come out.” 
    “You say that as if it’s normal…” 
    “You say THAT as if you don’t torture people in your basement!” 
    Jesse slowly walked back to the bed and laid down. His dream was completely wrong. He did NOT love Julian. Not the teeniest, tiniest bit.
  13. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from pman76 in Killer Omorashi   
    As Jesse changed out of his soaked clothes, he grumbled to himself about the indignity of it all. His bladder had never really been on his side, always seeming to fill itself to the brim at the worst possible moments. His body’s perceptions of itself had always been a little off kilter. He’d never known quite what to call it… His body was just always icy cold, which he supposed was why he never seemed to get sweaty. In addition, he was just perpetually numb. Things that should have hurt just… didn’t. He was able to stick his fingers into candle flame without feeling much of anything. He could wrap his hand around a shining light bulb and not register it burning. 
    It was not unless Jesse was experiencing an extreme level of pain, for example if instead of a small burn from a candle or bulb, his entire arm had been set on fire, only then did the agony manage to register itself. He’d never understood why he didn’t feel things the way other people did. In his earliest memory, his hand is full of cactus needles and his Mother is screaming, freaking out and trying to soothe him. But, Jesse is just sitting there and staring at the pointy things jabbed into him, with no idea why Mother is asking him over and over if he’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just interesting. 
    But, this constant numbness, this inability to recognize a sensation until it became very strong, meant that Jesse could barely ever realize that he needed to relieve his bladder until it was a catastrophic emergency. This, Jesse thought, was one of the biggest problems with being so numb. When he was very little and kept on having accidents well after others his age had stopped, Mother had taken him to a doctor, thinking that he had something wrong in his bladder. 
    He didn’t. The doctor asked him if he couldn’t feel when he had to go, and he tried to explain that he COULD, but only when it was really close to coming out. The doctor just assumed he was like any other kid, not paying attention because he was busy playing. 
    But, as Jesse got older, old enough to stop getting so caught up in games that he neglected pee breaks, his problem stayed the same. He couldn’t count the number of times he passed up an opportunity for a piss, only to suddenly find himself on the verge of an accident two minutes later. He’d driven his teachers crazy with it in elementary school. “We JUST had a bathroom break, Jesse. You can wait.” 
    But, Jesse could never wait. He’d wriggle and squirm, and then he’d pee in his seat after about half an hour of constant jiggling. He would be comforted by his Mother each time this happened. He would also be comforted every time he wet the bed growing up, which happened most nights. “It’s okay, Jesse,” she said. “You’ll grow out of this.” 
    But, Jesse never did.
    All through middle and high school, Jesse would have to be careful to remind himself to pee at each break, even when he didn’t feel the need to go. And even though he’d felt none of the pressure in his bladder, he would often stand there peeing for almost half a minute, the relief not registering any more than the urge had. 
    The only times the sensations of relief were strong enough to penetrate the numbness was when Jesse had been completely bursting to go, like he had been earlier… 
    Even though that bout of desperation had ended with an enormous puddle, it was still not the most desperate Jesse had ever been in his life. No, that honor went to when he and Julian had needed to split town last year once it became clear people were growing suspicious of their activities. 
    The plan was to travel by train across the country to a new location and begin their work once more there. When it came time to get off one train and get onto another, they were to do so as quickly as possible in order to avoid being seen by anyone employed at the station or getting spotted on a security camera. 
    There was not, as Jesse emphatically told Julian over and over, any time to use the restroom at the train stations. Jesse spent some of the time they were traveling working on a letter to his Mother, telling her not to worry about his whereabouts and that he was safe. He spent even more of the time they were traveling growing more and more annoyed by Julian’s incessant pleas for a toilet break. 
    The moron had been nice and quiet during the first two stops. Then, after that it was “Jesse, I have to piss!” “Jesse, I have to piss NOW!” “Jesse, I can’t hold it!” “Jesse, please, you gotta let me go here!” Jesse would angrily shush him each time. They were supposed to be QUIET as they maneuvered through the stations to avoid drawing attention. Julian loudly begging for a urinal was not helping them accomplish that. 
    “Silence!” Jesse hissed, forcing Julian onto the next train. “You do not need to go that badly. You are imagining it.” 
    Julian’s legs had twisted together and begun to bounce. Confused, he said “How could I be imagining it?! I’ve already peed a little!” 
    Jesse grimaced. He had not wanted to know that. “Well, then you’ve released the excess pressure, haven’t you? That means you can retain the rest inside yourself.” 
    Deciding those words probably amounted to ‘Just shut up and hold it!’, Julian chewed on his lip and stared out the window as the train started to move. He held himself as he was jostled around. “I can’t, Jesse…” Julian said. “I just GOTTA go at the next stop.” 
    Jesse rolled his eyes at his accomplice’s pathetic display. “We can have one comfort break today,” he conceded. 
    “What’s—“ 
    “We will pee once,” Jesse interrupted. “But, only when it becomes necessary. When we BOTH absolutely require it.” 
    “But, Jesse, I ‘absolutely require it’ RIGHT now,” Julian said, and he curled and twisted every which way as he fought not to flood the seat he was in. 
    “But, I do not,” Jesse said. “And I don’t want to waste our one break if I don’t need to make use of it.” 
    “But… YOU’RE the one that says we can only have—“ 
    “You are lucky I am allowing even one,” Jesse interrupted. “Now, be quiet and control yourself. You will get to do what you need to do later.” 
    Julian felt like he was going to ‘do what he needed to do’ in his pants any second now, but he could tell there was no arguing with Jesse. He understood WHY Jesse didn’t want to linger around the train stations for long, but Julian didn’t think peeing would take all THAT much time! Sure, Julian was probably holding five gallons of piss inside his body right now, but Julian was a fast pee-er. If he pushed hard enough, he was sure he could get it all out in under a minute. He imagined how loudly it was gonna spray, how good it was gonna feel, how— 
    Drip… 
    He snapped his legs together and tried to STOP imagining those things. 
    Jesse refused Julian’s repeated begs for the toilet at the next stop and forced him onto the next train. Thirty minutes after that one took off down the rail, Jesse’s bladder at last became full enough to penetrate through his numb senses, and he instantly went from feeling not even the tiniest tingle in his middle to fighting not to double over as urgent spasms rocked through his entire body. “We will be taking that break at the next stop,” he informed Julian, hissing through his teeth. 
    For the ten millionth time in his life, Jesse cursed his perpetual physical insensitivity to all stimuli. He had observed the behavior of others enough to know that everyone else was capable of recognizing when their bladder was starting to get a little full, they could register they needed the toilet long before they were bursting for it. But, not Jesse. His bladder only ever felt completely empty or filled to its brim, he didn’t get to have that warning build-up over time. 
    Julian, being a person that possessed two functioning eye balls, could tell right away that Jesse was dying for the toilet now, and this confused him. If Jesse had been holding it this whole time too, why hadn’t he agreed to go earlier? “But— We were just near a bathroom! Why’d you—“ 
    “My affairs are none of your concerns, Julian,” Jesse said. 
    “…Affairs?” Julian repeated. “What? Holding it until you’re about to wet your pants when you were JUST near a toilet— One that I BEGGED you to stop at— That’s an ‘affair’?” 
    “I had no need to relieve myself at the last stop,” Jesse said. But, dear GOD did he have such a need now! His jeans were squishing his abdomen without even the slightest hint of mercy. It felt like a twenty pound bowling ball was crammed inside his body, bruising and slamming into his other organs. 
    “What the Hell do you mean?!” Julian asked, staring at Jesse’s knotted legs and the hands pinned between them. He knew his own position was probably no less pathetic than Jesse’s by now, but he’d at least been trying ALL DAY to get to a bathroom… “You’ve obviously been holding it a while!” 
    “I felt no urge to go until now,” Jesse stated. He bounced up and down in his seat, his hands kneading painfully into his crotch. He knew how ridiculous his claim must have sounded, even if it was the truth. 
    Julian slumped back, trying to give his bladder more room to stretch out. He was too desperate for a urinal to argue right now. He kicked his legs out in front of himself, crossed them tight at the ankles. “How much longer until the next stop?” He asked. Even if Jesse had apparently decided to take his stupid pills today, at least he’d promised Julian a bathroom break. At least Julian knew he’d be peeing soon… 
    “I do not know,” Jesse said, annoyed. He tensed his thighs around his hands, squeezing tight and trying to plug up his opening as much as he could. “I have never been out this way before.” His bladder throbbed and thrashed, bashing around inside his body as gallons of urine looked for an escape route. ‘Ohhh, please let it be close!’ A tiny, pathetic voice in Jesse’s brain begged. ‘Please, please? I need to go real bad!’ 
    Jesse tried to silence the voice. No way could that have come from his own brain. No way could he honestly be having such needy, whining thoughts. 
    Because, Jesse could hold it. He may have needed a toilet so badly that he felt like the pressure he was under was strong enough to crush a truck, but he could hold it. He could hold it. He could hold it. He could hold it. 
    Pee pulsed down his urethra and wet the front of his boxers as his bladder angrily shouted back that no, he in fact couldn’t hold it. He hissed through his clenched teeth as he rocked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, damp crotch straining against his hands. 
    At last, the train came to a stop. “We are relieving ourselves here, do not argue with me,” Jesse gruffly said to Julian. 
    Julian stared, blinking at Jesse as he gently raised himself to his feet and fought not to explode right then and there. He wondered why on God’s green Earth Jesse thought he would even consider arguing with him about NOT pissing here after he’d just spent the last several hours pleading for permission to do exactly that. 
    Jesse watched as Julian walked to the exit and tried to force himself up. As soon as he was on his feet, a jet of liquid shot down his shaft and his grip on himself tightened so much that it was painful. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but he knew if he loosened his hold at all, he’d pee and pee and pee until he was standing in an enormous puddle. He attempted to straighten himself out and walk in a way that was at least somewhere in the same zip-code of ‘normal’, but this proved impossible. Standing up too tall made the skin stretch over his bladder and drops of urine dribble out. Parting his legs too much to take a step made short but intense leaks hiss into his pants. Basically, all he could manage was to do tiny, humiliating hops, folded over almost in half as he held onto his crotch for dear life. 
    Julian was able to walk a little bit better than Jesse could, and that was why he was able to reach the door to what they both needed before Jesse. Julian removed one hand from between his legs to grip the doorknob when Jesse caught up. “N—Needless to say, I will be using that room first.” 
    “No,” Julian disagreed. “You aren’t,” he shoved the door open and began working at his belt. Before he could shut the door closed again, Jesse forced his way in. 
    “I am on the verge of a catastrophe,” Jesse said, trying to shove past Julian to get to the toilet… Oh, God, the toilet… Jesse’s eyes were fixed on it now, he was so close… So close to relief… 
    “I don’t care what you’re ‘on the verge’ of!” Julian snapped. He was beginning to get very, very annoyed. It was Jesse’s fault that he had to pee so bad, it was Jesse’s fault that they BOTH had to pee so bad! Julian had TRIED to go before he had an emergency, and now that he was HAVING one he wasn’t about to let the guy that had continually prevented him from pissing go first! “You’re gonna have to wait!” 
    “Julian, no,” Jesse snarled. “You are GOING to allow me to use it first!” 
    “No way!” Julian shouted back as he loosened his belt and gripped his zip. “I’ve been holding it WAY longer!” And he knew he COULDN’T hold it another second! He was so angry with Jesse right now for forcing him to endure his full bladder for so long that he honestly WANTED him to have an accident. It would serve him right!
    “Then, step to the side,” Jesse said. “We will share it.” 
    Julian shook his head stubbornly. If Jesse hadn’t been such an asshole to him about bathroom breaks all through this trip, then he WOULD have considered moving over enough that they could both unleash their streams into the toilet, but he wasn’t going to do it now! Jesse was just gonna have to hold it or piss his pants. It was what he deserved. Julian unzipped, then pulled his pants down and sat himself on the toilet. The instant he felt the porcelain seat underneath him, his drips became a loud, gushing stream. As he gave a long, loud exhale of relief through his nose, he stuck his tongue out at Jesse. 
    ‘Immature little cretin…’ Jesse thought as he jumped from foot to foot. He knew Julian did not often sit down to urinate. The only reason he was doing so now was to make sure Jesse couldn’t use the toilet with him. 
    Julian put his hand between his legs and adjusted himself, so that his stream cascaded directly into the water beneath him, the volume of his hissing spray increased in intensity, and glancing to his side, he saw how much of an effect it was having upon Jesse. 
    Jesse was almost on his knees now, his hands pinned between his legs and his eyes wide… Were those… Were those tears? Holy shit, Julian had NEVER seen tears on Jesse’s face before. Or, at least not REAL ones. He’d only ever seen Jesse fake a cry to manipulate someone, but this looked pretty genuine. Julian almost felt bad. 
    Almost. 
    Emptying his bladder felt too good for Julian to feel bad about anything. 
    Besides, he reminded himself, Jesse deserved this. 
    ‘My bladder is going to rupture,’ Jesse thought as Julian continued pouring on and on and on. “Pl—Please… Hasten it up a tad?” 
    Julian just shook his head. “I’m going slower,” he informed. And, from the sound of it, he really WAS. Julian had always had a high level of control over his flow… He could make it come out as quickly or as slowly as he wanted. He could make himself stop pretty easily too… And that gave him another idea. He clenched his muscles for a moment. “Ahhh, I think I’m done,” he said. 
    “Then get u—“ 
    Then, Julian let go again, and pee noisily splashed into the bowl once more. “Nope. Sorry. My bad. I still gotta go.” 
    “Ohhhh, hurry!” Jesse bounced in place. He lost another leak. Then another. And another. He felt his palms and fingers getting damp as pee bloomed hot and wet over the crotch of his pants. “Hurry up!” Drips kept on pattering out, and Julian just kept peeing and peeing and sighing and peeing more, and— 
    All at once, it was too much. 
    Jesse could not hold it any longer. He looked around the small room. No trash can… Letting it out against a wall could work… No, no, if someone went in right after them and found the mess, they might say something and then security could come and… Wow, imagine if he was captured all because he pissed on a wall! 
    Pinching his opening shut as much as he could, Jesse kept trying to think of an answer… The sink, yes. The sink. Sinks and urinals were basically the same thing, right? Both little bowls made of porcelain that expelled water down a drain. Pretty much the same thing! 
    Or, at least they were the same thing to a person whose mind was addled by the fog of intense desperation. 
    He let go of his continually spurting dick and tugged down his zipper, rushing madly for the sink, leaving a little trail of liquid along the way. The sink was too high up for him to aim into, but he was pretty sure it was sturdy enough to support his body weight… 
    “Jesse, what are you doing?” Julian laughed. He was nearly empty, he knew he’d be up off the toilet in just a couple more seconds, but as the last of his pee trickled out, he made no move to stand. He just stayed where he was and watched Jesse. 
    Jesse yanked his pants down and pulled himself up onto the sink, sitting over it and positioning himself so that he was gushing into the basin. Then, he moaned as he gave up the last bit of control he was still hanging on to. Piss loudly crashed into the sink and Jesse felt himself shiver. 
    “What the Hell are you doing?” Julian repeated, even though it was obvious. “I was just about done!” He stood and started to pull his pants back up. “Couldn’t you wait one more second?” 
    “Silence…” Jesse murmured, his features slackening as his body relaxed, urine still noisily spraying away beneath him. 
    “Not like I have to wash my hands or anything…” 
    “Silence,” Jesse managed once more through his heavy, relieved breaths, his pee gushing harder and harder. He doubted if the sink’s faucet itself could even match the power of his ‘faucet’. He was peeing as if he hadn’t relieved himself in weeks. This was all Julian’s own fault anyway. He wouldn’t let Jesse relieve himself into the toilet, and so this was what happened. Jesse’s bladder was still aching even as his stream crashed heavily into the basin. 
    “Jesus, Jesse,” Julian said. “How much do you drink?!” 
    “Ahhh…” Jesse moaned out, unable to articulate himself and unsure what he’d even say if he could. Liquid continued pouring hard and strong, noisily hissing and splashing. Jesse was growing a bit uncomfortable with how much Julian was watching. “Look somewhere el—“ 
    “Aren’t you done yet?” Julian asked impatiently. “And you bitched about how much I had to go?!” 
    “Give me a second,” Jesse said. “I think I’m nearly spent…” 
    “Are you sure?” Julian said, fighting down another laugh. 
    Jesse felt what seemed like the last few drops of his urine trickle out, but as soon as he thought he was finished, he felt the weight return to his abdomen and another intense wave of pee surged out. “Ahhh… Perhaps not…” He was gushing again with wild abandon and continued on for half a minute before the stream ceased once more. 
    Jesse stayed where he was, bearing down on his muscles as hard as he could, attempting to force out anything else his bladder might have still been containing. He didn’t feel the need to go anymore, and after a few more seconds of attempting to start up another stream, he felt confident he really was emptied out. 
    Jesse dropped down from the sink and slid his pants back up, zipping and buttoning them. He gave another sigh through his nose. 
    “… Feeling a little bit better now?” Julian asked. “You… You’re gonna rinse out the sink, right?” 
    Jesse groaned, but decided he should probably do that. 
    They continued on their journey, and when after a few more stops Julian announced that he was once more desperate for the toilet, Jesse chose not to argue and the two were able to have a far less dramatic pee break. 
    Once they reached their destination, Jesse promised himself he’d do a better job of relieving himself when he had the chance, even if he didn’t feel like he had to. But, he forgot more often than not. 
    That was definitely the most desperate he could recall ever feeling, and he was amazed that it hadn’t ended in a puddle just like his agony from earlier today had.
  14. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from pman76 in Killer Omorashi   
    Like the last few stories I've posted, this was originally written using characters from a non-kink book I've written. So, name-changes were made and the setting was kept vague to keep it from being recognizable, I hope the vagueness does not distract from the desperation content.
    As a warning, the characters appearing in this one are from a horror/comedy book that I wrote; They are serial killers and, while there will not be any graphic violence or murder here, there will be references to it. So, if that’s not your cup of tea, you can skip this one.
    *** 
    “Okay,” Julian declared as he twisted the final knot around Jesse’s wrist. “That should hold you… How much time do you want me to give you down here?” 
    Jesse considered it. The ropes binding his legs together and keeping his arms behind his back were uncomfortable and he didn’t want to be in them for long. But, they were supposed to cause discomfort, and he needed enough time in them to ensure a person wouldn’t be able to free themselves from the rope they’d chosen, or the knots they’d learned to tie. “A couple hours,” Jesse answered. 
    Julian gave him a quizzical look, “Really? That lon—“ 
    “We can’t have one of our subjects escape,” Jesse said. “I have to make extra certain that such an act would be impossible.” 
    “Well…” Julian looked down at his feet. “if you’re sure, I guess… I’ll go get some stuff at the store, then. You just… Stay here and… Try to get yourself out of those binds.” 
    “Okay,” Jesse said. As Julian climbed the stairs to leave their basement, Jesse was already wriggling his fingertips. He could scarcely bend his fingers at all, the ropes were so tight and firm. He doubted he’d be able to escape from them, but that was a good thing; It meant none of his future victims would be able to, either. 
    He figured he ought to try a little harder though, pretend he was fighting for his life like the people he tied up would inevitably be doing. He tried to thrash and writhe, but without the presence of the heart-pounding adrenaline he’d have if he was actually on the receiving end of a drawn out, painful murder, he didn’t think he was putting his whole heart into getting free. 
    Once he’d lost the circulation in his arms, it had stopped being that uncomfortable, too. So, even less motivation to fight with the bindings. He continued to put in a little effort, though. He fidgeted his legs as much as he could, he kept flexing his arms, but nothing seemed to make the ropes loosen. If anything, they were just getting tighter. The one wrapped around his lower torso was getting particularly tight… It was more uncomfortable than all the others, his middle felt really tense, and— 
    He should have peed before asking Julian to tie him up. He definitely should have peed. Now that he’d noticed the urge within, it seemed to intensify. How interesting that acknowledging a pain makes it amplify a little like that… It was as if once he’d made note of the discomfort, he’d given it a megaphone. His bladder was now demanding all of his attention. 
    He tried to ignore it for a while, but he couldn’t. It was throbbing and pulsating, and the fact he could neither cross his legs nor hold himself was making it worse. He finally seemed to find the motivation he’d needed to really fight against the ropes keeping him bound. Even if he couldn’t free his hands so he could get his zip down, he at least wanted the use of his legs so he could try and pin his opening shut between them. 
    His hips hitched back and forth, the only part of his body he could move around that freely. He was trying to ease the ropes over his legs downwards, if he could force them down to his ankles, rather than around his thighs and knees where they were now, they’d be too loose and he’d be able to step out of them. Then he’d get to do all the leg-crossing he wanted! 
    He couldn’t push the ropes down though. To do that, he’d need hands, which he knew he had even less chance of breaking free. He could sort of twist his ankles around, and he hooked them against one another, but that didn’t bring him much relief. The rope over his midsection was quickly becoming his worst enemy. Why did Julian have to put it RIGHT there? It was DIRECTLY over his bladder, and it seemed to squeeze itself more and more with each passing second. As if it wasn’t merely a rope, but a strangely camouflaged boa constrictor that was hell-bent on watching Jesse pee his pants. 
    Wait… No. He wasn’t THAT desperate already, was he? A few seconds of steady breathing and Jesse determined that he was certainly close to having to worry about that. His bladder was so full, the rope squishing it was so tight, and he couldn’t do anything to help hold it in! If he didn’t get out of these ropes soon, he was going to get soaked. 
    Wet pants weren’t too uncommon for Jesse. He’d had serious bedwetting issues for as far back as he could remember; Some nights he’d wet his pajamas, change his damp clothes, put a new sheet of plastic over the bed, fall back asleep… And then pee himself again before morning. He wasn’t sure what it was, he just could not for the life of him wake up when his bladder needed emptying. 
    He’d wet his pants while awake not too long ago as well; He’d managed to get himself locked into a freezer overnight while he really, really, really needed to go. He’d known he’d needed to conserve his energy if he was to survive the below freezing temperatures for so long in his thin clothes, and that holding it in would make that difficult. He also knew that urine would be warm… So, he’d just taken a deep breath and let it flow. 
    For a few seconds, his plan worked. He no longer had to put any energy into holding his bladder closed, and his legs were sieged by a pleasant heat that overpowered the frigid air that had been battering against them. He was actually feeling kind of proud of himself for being intelligent enough to use the tools at his disposal to warm himself. 
    And then he remembered that liquid cooled off pretty quickly when in such low temperatures. He felt significantly LESS smart when his urine began to freeze itself against his leg. 
    He shook his head back and forth to clear it of these memories. Not just because they were embarrassing, but because he could remember the relief he’d felt in that freezer as his bladder released its contents in a nice, steady hiss… He remembered all the pee dreams he’d had before waking up wet, how all of them had ended with finding a urinal just in time and crying out in ecstasy as he hosed it down… Sure, that was always followed with a moan of despair when he woke to find he’d drenched his bed again, but at least his bladder had been empty all those times! 
    As he tried to block out the tantalizing memories of blissful oblivion, his bladder forced out its first spurt into his tight skinny jeans— Because, of course, he’d had to wear his tightest jeans today as well! He panicked and squeezed his thighs together, the only thing he could do to try and hold his need back. He was trembling, shaking and rolling about on the ground, trying to break through the ropes from brute-force alone. 
    Of course, that didn’t work. He managed to roll himself on top of his stomach, though. The instant he did, it was like every bit of his weight was slamming on top of his bladder. Pain erupted beneath his sensitive flesh, his bladder shrieking in wild frenzy as a huge spurt poured from his tip. He quickly fought to roll over onto his back, but after such a brutal experience, his bladder was angry and thrashing, more and more leaks wetting the crotch of his pants. 
    Jesse moaned into the darkness of his basement. He was positive now that the ropes were inescapable, because now he really had been fighting for dear life and he hadn’t managed to loosen them even slightly. “Julian!?” Jesse called, before remembering that Julian had been about to go to the store… He groaned, tensed his thighs and clenched his muscles as hard as he could, straining his ears out for Julian to return home. 
    ‘All these years researching new, creative methods of torture,’ Jesse thought miserably in the dark. ‘And the worst one of all was staring me straight in the face the whole time…’ He didn’t like to think that his work, the experiments he’d done to see how much pain a human could withstand, could be outdone by a simple biological urge…But, this truly was a form of torture; One Jesse had never thought about before. To need to pee so badly while something squeezed the living daylights out of his bladder and he couldn’t even squirm in any meaningful way…That horrible throbbing ache that started in his middle, careened up his back and pulsated through his most delicate and sensitive areas… Could his experiments even measure up to this kind of pain? 
    Perhaps this would be a good thing to try next time he acquired a test subject? He’d have to find a way to keep the subject from wetting themselves. Jesse was only fighting so hard not to pee in his clothing because he didn’t want Julian to come home and find him laying in a puddle of urine. A test subject would be unlikely to care what their captors thought of them or have any desire not to make a mess of the torture dungeon, so would have less incentive to hold… 
    Perhaps Jesse should have been thinking of different escape methods and not of horrible things to do to whatever victims he managed to get his hands on in the future, but thinking about his work was always a good distraction. And he really, really needed a distraction! 
    It only lasted so long, though. Then, he could think of little more than ‘Have to pee! Oh, please! I have to pee so bad! Please, I need to urinate! I have to go! I need the restroom right now! Please, please, please! I can’t hold it! I need to pee!’ 
    Then, he heard the door opening. Julian was coming down the stairs, “It’s been about an hou—“ 
    “Julian, please release me,” Jesse instructed. 
    “You said two hours, th—“ 
    “I recall what my instructions were previously,” Jesse said. “But, now I urgently need to void!” 
    Julian blinked at Jesse for a few seconds. Sometimes it seemed like Jesse had blended up an entire thesaurus and then drank it like some kind of disgusting smoothie. He didn’t understand why Jesse always had to try and make people think he was some kind of super genius, all it did was make him talk weird and use words normal people didn’t understand. “Um… You need to do… What?” 
    “I am experiencing a terrible exigency, my body requires me to pass water straightaway.” When he again received a blank stare, Jesse groaned; “I have to micturate, Julian.” 
    “…What?” 
    “I must urinate!” 
    “You… Oh, you’re all jiggly! Do you mean you gotta take a piss?” Julian guessed. 
    Jesse winced at Julian’s vulgar tongue, (Jesse hated swearing, he thought it made a person sound frightfully unintelligent.) as well as at the fact that his accomplice apparently had not previously been clear on what the word ‘urinate’ meant. But, he nodded. “Yes, dreadfully! Please, untie me!” 
    “Okay!” Julian said. He knelt down next to Jesse and had him roll onto his side. Jesse cringed as turning over made his liquids slosh and push themselves against his opening. 
    “Hurry…” Jesse said. 
    “I am,” Julian assured. “Now… Um… Uh…. How do you take the knot back out?” 
    “You didn’t consider it may be of the essence to work that out prior to tying me up?” 
    “Sorry…” Julian said. “Maybe I can just cut you free instead, do you think we’ve got something that could do that?” 
    “Julian, you are presently in a torture dungeon,” Jesse reminded. “Everything in here is sharp, I’m sure something will get the job done.” 
    Julian opened several of the drawers, each stocked full of various dangerous implements. He soon found a decent looking knife. 
    Jesse squirmed on the ground and listened as Julian sharpened up a knife before returning to him. He felt a bit of relief when Julian began cutting apart the rope binding his hands. When they were freed, they stung with a million pins and needles as the blood flow finally returned to them after so long. The tingling was of no concern however. It didn’t matter that his hands didn’t feel right, what mattered was what they could do. And right now, all they could do was press against his crotch. He couldn’t get a fantastic grip through his tight jeans, but it was something and it was enough to make him give a tiny sigh. “Ahh…” 
    Julian heard his little moan and flinched, “You’re not… You’re not ‘going’, are you?” 
    “No!” Jesse cried out. “I’m just… I’ve been really desiring the use of my hands, and it… Feels better to be able to—“ 
    “Oh,” Julian said. He then sliced through the rope tied around Jesse’s waist, then finally took care of the ones binding his legs. The instant Jesse’s legs were free, they were crossed, scissoring against one another, completely out of Jesse’s control. 
    “Wow, I guess you do have to go really bad,” Julian said.
    “Silence,” Jesse commanded. He forced himself up onto his feet, and realized that he was still pretty far from being okay. To get to the restroom, he’d need to leave the basement. And to do that, he had to make it up a flight of stairs. “Are there any containers down here?” 
    Julian shrugged, “I don’t think so… It’s not like it’s that far to walk.” 
    Jesse hesitated for a moment before placing his foot up onto the first step. He immediately let out a sharp hiss of air through his teeth. An intense wave of need had snaked through his foot, up the line of his leg, and directly into his throbbing abdomen; He felt a short spray of urine shoot from his tip. He could not recall ever needing to relieve himself so urgently before in his life. “I have to do it right here,” he announced. 
    “What?!” Julian asked, alarmed. 
    Jesse was already working on his zipper. 
    “You can’t be serious? You’re just gonna piss on the steps?” 
    “I have been left with no other options,” Jesse said. “The pressures of nature are simply too much for me to bear at the moment, I have no choice but to—“ He stopped speaking abruptly as it registered to him that something was wrong; His zipper was not coming down. It wasn’t even budging. He gripped hold of it and yanked with his full strength, but still it remained up. His pants were much too tight for him to just yank them down by the waistband— Not that he particularly wanted to expose quite THAT much of his body to Julian, anyway… 
    “Julian, my zipper is stuck!” he cried out in a panic. 
    “Once you’re actually at a TOILET, I’ll help you!” Julian said. “Don’t pee on the steps!” 
    Jesse bounced in place, continuing to tug the accursed zipper. His holding muscles were so exhausted, it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his bladder’s contents where they belonged. He wanted to fire back that, whether his zipper came down or not, the steps were GOING to be peed on; The only difference would be whether or not Jesse’s clothes would get wet as well… But, before he could even open his mouth, it registered to him that the area around his crotch was starting to feel strangely warm. Then, he picked up on the sounds; A loud hiss had begun to fill the room, like the sound of air being let out of a balloon. This was underpinned with the distinct noise of liquid splashing against concrete. 
    Panicked, he tried to get a good grip on his member, but all this did was get his hands wet as the deluge only continued to build in intensity. Jesse shuddered with equal parts embarrassment and relief… So much relief… He’d needed to do this for so long, finally having it come out felt nothing short of exquisite. But, every few seconds the textile sensations of his rapidly dampening clothing would register to him once more, and the humiliation would begin to outweigh the relief. 
    The fact Julian was there didn’t help, Jesse found himself wishing he’d just gone ahead and had his accident BEFORE Julian had come home. Being found in a massive puddle of urine would have been slightly less embarrassing than being watched while CREATING a massive puddle of urine. The amount he was letting loose was also somewhat mortifying; he’d been spraying uncontrollably for at least a full minute, and he didn’t feel like he’d be done any time soon. 
    Julian was just watching him, and he wanted to tell him to look away but he couldn’t even find his voice through the shock. 
    Julian apparently COULD find his, though. “Hey… Um… Well, you piss the bed practically every single night, so at least this isn’t a totally new experience for you, right?” 
    Jesse finally remembered how to talk, “You’re not helping!” he shouted overtop of the stunningly noisy hiss that was still emitting from his midsection. 
    “Sorry… Feel any better at least?” 
    Jesse scowled, but had to admit that he definitely did. A brief shiver passed through him as the last of his urine drained from his body and he gave a very soft sigh. The sigh wasn’t purely from relief, but also from dismay. As he stood there, soaked from the waist down and stinking of urine partway up the stairs of his makeshift torture dungeon, Jesse wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve this much humiliation. That would, however, forever remain a mystery to him.
  15. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from transgenderwet in Embarrassing pee stories...   
    Months ago, I had the worst cold imaginable. I could barely breathe out of my nose and my throat felt clogged as well. Constant headaches, constant coughing. It was miserable. I took NyQuil before bed, along with my usual insomnia medication and fell into a very deep sleep. I also forgot to pee before heading to bed like I usually do, being sick had made my brain all foggy. 
    So, for the first time in my entire life, I actually peed the bed quite a bit. I was able to hurry and get a lot of it into the toilet after I woke up, but the sheets were still thoroughly drenched. I was extremely embarrassed, I had never even wet the bed as a little kid, but then I just suddenly did it as an adult while sleeping beside my partner. I could barely believe it had even happened. 
    My partner wasn't upset at least, he was just worried because I must have been really unwell if it had caused me to have a genuine accident like that. 
    His most embarrassing pee story for a while was actually the first time he was super desperate in front of me, funnily enough. The whole time, he thought I must have been getting very turned off and grossed out by hearing him whine about needing to pee so badly. The fact that he was so convinced of that at the time is something we both think is hilarious now. 
    Other than that, back when he still lived with his parents, he says there was a day he was coming home and was absolutely bursting. He literally made it right up to the front door and couldn't wait another second, so he had to pee on the grass. Luckily, no one saw him do it that he noticed, but just the way he was so close to an actual toilet and wasn't able to handle that last little distance was really embarrassing for him. 
  16. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from JA1 in My Commission Thread   
    It was now the fifth week of school, and Naomi was STILL having a ridiculously difficult time. Her actual classwork was going smoothly, she’d had her first quizzes of the year and had passed every one of them. She wasn’t overwhelmed by the amount of homework and never handed anything in late. She even seemed to be fairly well liked by most of her peers, although she hadn’t made any super close friends yet.
     
    All things considered, this was probably the best she could have hoped for with starting a new school, but there was still one enormous problem that prevented her from enjoying her experience here; Every single day, Naomi would inevitably suffer an absolutely CATASTROPHIC need for the girls’ room.
     
    The majority of her classes were all scattered about across one side of the school. Then, all of the toilets seemed to be clumped at the other. And there was ALWAYS a line. Naomi didn’t even have a clue how many times she'd left the bathroom slightly damp after just barely making it. She’d stopped wearing light-colored panties to school, aware now that they were likely to become stained.
     
    She had also learned a little more about school policies, particularly the ones related to bathroom usage. Not only were teachers not SUPPOSED to let students leave during class to satiate their bladders, if a teacher ever BROKE that rule and showed pity for a very, very, VERY desperate girl like Naomi… It would do no good. The bathrooms were actually LOCKED while class was in session, a decision the principal said was to ensure no one hung out inside them in lieu of going to class.
     
    When classes ended, the bathrooms were supposed to be unlocked. Normally, they would be. Or, at least, SOME of them would be. One awful day last week, Naomi had been close to tears as she hobbled up to a women’s room, but when she gripped the handle, she discovered they’d FORGOTTEN to unlock that one. When she managed to find one that wasn’t still locked, the line was so immense that a wet streak made it all the way down to her ankle before she was finally able to sit on a toilet and relax for a second, eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned with extreme relief.
     
    Weekends were a haven for her now. At home, the toilet was always RIGHT there, unlocked, and she could just USE it when she had to. After so many daily bouts of horrid need, she had an almost silly amount of gratitude for the freedom her home’s restroom allotted her. It was such a wonderful feeling to just sit down and pee BEFORE her middle was hurting so intensely that she felt sick.
     
    Weekends only lasted two days, however. Most days, Naomi DID have to hold it. She’d thought that eventually she’d get used to it, or that her holding muscles would get stronger the more times they were forced to work out. This did not appear to be happening, though. She most DEFINITELY was NOT getting used to it. Each day’s desperation felt just as awful as the one that had preceded it. Every time she found herself at the back of a line, she had no option but to potty-dance as if her life depended upon it. It never got easier, her bladder protested violently every day, never growing any larger to better accommodate the liter of liquid that she was repeatedly forced to keep at bay inside herself.
     
    Today, Naomi was wandering the halls between 7th and 8th period, praying with tightly-clenched thighs that she could get to the restroom before she’d have to hurry to class. Her bladder was aching with need, a burn pressing against her sphincters. She’d spent the entirety of her last class with her hands planted firmly between her legs, rocking frantically against them. Her classmates kept staring at her the more she fidgeted, and it embarrassed her to no end, but she just couldn’t help it! It would be so much more embarrassing if she wet herself!
     
    Besides, plenty of THEM had been squirming as well. It was easier to feel less ashamed when she wasn’t alone.  When class dismissed, she’d taken off as quickly as she could, the frantic pace upsetting her water-logged bladder but not so badly that she had to slow down. Better to have a few leaks warm her underwear than to completely soak her pants.
     
    She careened down hallway after hallway, pleading with every God she could think of to please, please allow her to make it in time.
     
    Suddenly, the bell rang, as she knew it would.  Looking around, refusing to give up hope entirely, Naomi spotted that rude hall-monitor standing in front of a women’s room. She watched as the hall-monitor twisted a key in the lock, the sight twisting something inside Naomi’s body along with it.
     
    She didn’t dare ask the hall-monitor to unlock the door for her, she knew she’d only be reprimanded for being late now. She hurried to class and resigned herself to continuing her already agonizing hold.  Upon entering the room, she found Mr. Jamieson already droning on about something.  He gestured for her to sit down without so much as a pause in his speech.
     
    Naomi took a seat at the far rear of the room, and instantly her knees resumed the frantic bouncing they’d been doing for the entirety of her last class. Her bladder forced her to recall the rest of her day, the water she’d reluctantly drank at breakfast, the way she’d already needed to go pretty bad during the lunch break. How she’d hurried to the bathroom in the cafeteria— the only one that was ever unlocked during lunch— and had been faced with an enormous line. She’d squirmed and crossed her legs as the clock kept ticking, ensuring that she wouldn’t have any time to actually eat something. She hadn’t cared, so long as she PEED…  
     
    But, the lunch period ended before she could even do THAT. A member of staff stepped forward and began to lock both restrooms, right in front of the anxious students whom hadn’t been able to get a turn. Ohhh, if only she’d gotten there a few minutes earlier, she could have locked herself into a stall, sat down and succumbed to bliss… She wouldn’t have this bowling ball pushing into her kidneys now…
     
    Naomi shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the fantasy. That was all it was. A fantasy. Peeing was only something she was allowed to do in her imagination. In the real world, she had to hold it forever and ever and—
     
    She bit her lip until she drew blood, then focused ahead on class. She was actually able to take notes for 15 minutes before she had to sneak a hand down to cup herself. She felt a clammy sensation between her thighs when she did that, and realized she must have spurted out a few leaks without noticing. That had been happening a lot… She’d just get so full that it was impossible for her to feel anything coming out. The drop in pressure was so minuscule that it may as well have not even happened.
     
    Glancing up and looking around the classroom, she saw others struggling with the same problem that she was enduring. In the early days, Naomi mostly felt sympathy since she knew all too well how bad they were feeling. Now? The sight of other people suffering the burden of a full bladder sort of just stressed her out and filled her with dread.
     
    Well, seeing other GIRLS in that condition did, anyway. She still mostly just felt BAD for the guys, because when THEY finally got to rush off for relief, Naomi knew it wouldn’t effect HER at all. When the girls were free to go, Naomi knew they’d be clogging up the line SHE was going to be stuck waiting in.
     
    She’d formed a habit without realizing it. When she spotted female classmates squirming and writhing during the final period of the day, she couldn’t help but mentally count them up. ‘Six… Seven… Eight…’ She tallied them, the number of girls she’d have to try to beat to a stall, the number she may be forced to listen to peeing before she could, at long last, rest her weary body atop a toilet seat.
     
    Every time she caught herself doing that, she felt ridiculous. This was, after all, just ONE classroom. Of course, the OTHER classes were also filled to the brim with GIRLS filled to THEIR brims, it was impossible for Naomi to know for certain how many would be ahead of her when she got to the line. But, she couldn’t stop counting.
     
    ‘Jessica’s bursting,’ Naomi thought now, glancing at one classmate. ‘So’s Brooke… They’re on the track team, they’ll probably get there before me… Ahhh, I wanna be first! I wanna get there before anyone!’ She tapped her feet anxiously beneath her desk, unaware of how loud the clacking of her shoes was until Mr. Jamieson set down his chalk, turned, and asked “Is there something you want to share with the class, Naomi?”
     
    ‘Only that I gotta go pee right now!’ Naomi’s bladder screamed. But, she shook her head. “N—No,” she said. “Sorry.”
     
    “Alright…” Mr. Jamieson turned back around, and Naomi resumed her squirming.
     
    The pressure pushing against her sphincter was so intense that it was a struggle to even breathe. She inhaled as slowly as she could manage, choppy, careful little puffs. If she breathed too fast or too deep, another weight was lain down atop her bladder. The overfull organ was shrieking at her, begging her to forget all about where she was and just GO. It didn’t care at if Naomi got teased or bullied for letting it flow in the middle of class. It didn’t care that the seat she was wriggling her butt against wasn’t made of porcelain and had nowhere for her urine to fall. All it cared about was breaking free from the torment and suffering, draining itself dry of every last painful drop.
     
    One such drop seeped into her panties. Then another. And another. If it wasn’t for the new warmth she felt against her squeezing fingertips, she may not have even noticed the spills.
    Beneath her desk, her knees went back and forth between bouncing uncontrollably and banging against one another hard enough that she wouldn’t be surprised if she had bruised them. She crossed her legs, uncrossed them, recrossed them in the opposite direction. She pleaded with her bladder to hold it together a while longer. 
     
    A tiny, shocked moan of despair burst out of her mouth when she felt a hard rush of urine soak its way into her already clammy panties. She bounced frantically in her chair, tears forming in her eyes. She squeezed both her hands against herself as hard as she could, fighting to fix the hole in her dam and put an end to the leakage. She managed to cut off the stream, but the remainder of her lake still had to come out so, SO badly. Waves roared and lapped at her overworked sphincter, which quivered against the mighty weight.
     
    This happened again and again. She would start to pee— She would start to really, really PEE— so she’d cup herself as tight as possible and tense up every muscle she had. She’d regain control over the flood for a few more measly minutes, and then another jet would glide into her clothes, starting the process over again.
     
    Finally… The bell was ringing. Finally, she was free. This was the worst moment of all. She knew she had to RUN. She knew she had to HURRY if she wanted to beat all the OTHER girls that were just as desperate as her. But, she also COULDN’T run anymore. Speed was the only thing that could save her from a long line, but it was also the thing that was sure to damn her.
     
    She forced herself onto her feet as carefully as she could, maintaining her fraying control over the sloshing cup balanced precariously inside of her.  She took mincing, contorted steps from the room, noting that several of her classmates were doing the same, and paying careful attention to which GIRLS were doing it. She had to beat them, she just HAD to. She was gonna have an accident…
     
    Oh, but they were moving so much faster! Naomi felt like she was trapped in slow-motion, all while moving through molasses. Jessica left the room first and bounced down the hallway, Brooke right after her, then Susan… Everyone was getting ahead! They should have waited, they should have looked at Naomi and thought ‘Oh, she has to go the worst, we should wait for her’!
     
    By the time Naomi finally GOT to the girls’ room she’d been fantasizing about for what felt like  a lifetime, the line was out the door and stretching FAR down the hallway. She forced herself to take her spot at the very end, gazing out at what must have been DOZENS of other overflowing girls. Each… Each one was desperate, so they’d all need at least a minute to finish. There were multiple stalls, but that wouldn’t cut down on the time too much. And once Naomi got close enough, she’d have to hear the streams firing out, colliding so loudly with the toilet water, creating that unmistakable hiss that only happened when a girl was enjoying a VERY needed pee… Some of them would probably moan or sigh, adding to the auditory torment…
     
    When a few girls emerged, pink faced and maddeningly calm, from the restroom, Naomi squeezed her eyes tightly closed and told herself she could hold it. ‘Look, three of them are already finished. Just wait and it will be your turn soon. Just hold it. Hold it, hold it, hold it…’ It felt like her bladder was held together with bits of chewing gum and duct tape, it felt like the tape was starting to peel, everything coming apart. ‘Hold it, hold it, please just hold it…You don’t have to go that bad. You can wait. Just hold it.’
     
    As she performed her familiar pee dance, it struck her that it no longer embarrassed her. Crossing her legs, jumping around, skipping in place… Even blatantly holding herself was no longer a grand, epic humiliation. Every other girl in line ahead of her was doing the same thing and, when she looked across the hall to confirm, all the guys awaiting their turn in the men’s room were doubling over and clutching themselves as well.
     
    The only issue with Naomi’s pee dance was how poorly it actually seemed to be working. All the clenching and contorting in the world wasn’t enough to make her bladder a few liters larger. Droplets continually broke free, warming and re-warming her panties as her fingers worked as hard as they could to form the cork she needed. Cold panic flooded into her veins, fear that today was finally going to be the day she’d been dreading all along; the day she completely peed herself at school, not even the smallest drop actually making it into a toilet bowl.
     
    She buried her hands in her groin and doubled forwards, not caring that this caused her skirt to ride up and expose her panties— Black today, the easiest color to hide dark spots and stains on. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as her hands grew slick with warm wetness, her bladder continuing to push and push and push, its walls squeezing with so much strength that she felt powerless. “Not gonna make it…” she mumbled, not even noticing that her lips were moving. “Not gonna make it, can’t hold it…”
     
    “Ahhh—!” A voice moaned behind her. “Don’t say that…”
     
    Naomi somehow managed to turn around a little, even that small motion prompting another spurt. She saw another girl standing beside her, her face was pink and puffy, dotted with either tears, sweat or some mixture of the two. Naomi recognized this girl from some of her classes, her name was Fawn. Naomi had seen her squirming a lot during sixth period, and it looked like she hadn’t gotten to pee at any point since then. Fawn was folded over in half, her hands squeezing her crotch, her legs coiled. She looked as close to an accident as Naomi did. Little dark streaks were visible on Fawn’s pants, trailing down from her inner thigh to just above her knee.
     
    “Don’t say that, if you don’t make it, I’m not gonna—“ Fawn sucked in a sharp breath, bent over more, and a faint hissing noise filled the air. “Can’t wait…”
     
    The line inched forwards, and Naomi tried talking to Fawn in order to take BOTH of their minds off the agony of their needs. But, it was hard to pick a conversation topic when both of their brains were stuck on such… linear thought paths. “I haven’t gone since this morning,” Naomi said.
     
    “Me neither,” Fawn said, stomping her feet hard against the floor. “I tried, like, four times to get to a toilet. They were all either locked, or the line was too long, or a hall-monitor made me go straight to class…”
     
    “Every day, I— Ah—“ Naomi felt another leak. She needed something more between her legs, it was a shame she hadn’t been born with four hands. FOUR hands would be enough to plug her closed, surely. Every drop felt like it was trying to come out now, a non-stop pulsating in her most sensitive area that was driving her crazy. “Every day, I think ‘I’ve never had to pee this bad before,’ and then the next day is even worse!”
     
    “I knowww,” Fawn moaned. “I— I actually… Earlier I thought about running outside and just popping a squat behind the school.”
     
    Naomi chewed on her lip. SHE’D considered that a few times before herself. The thought of running back there, yanking down her panties and dropping into a squat, her urine gushing and arcing out in front of her to create a long, huge puddle of mind-breaking relief…
     
    A stream started to roll down Naomi’s leg and she nearly went to her knees as she fought to stop it. “Oh, don’t mention that!” She groaned. “I can’t think about it!”
     
    Fawn cringed, bobbing up and down. “S—Sorry,” she said.
     
    At last, the line had budged forwards enough time that Naomi was able to set one foot inside the restroom. She had been anticipating this moment with equal parts excitement and dread; Excitement that she would finally be in the home-stretch, so close to using the toilet. Dread, because she was now subjected to the sound of each girl ahead of her letting loose their gushing streams, some of them exhaling with relief, or even commenting to a friend in a neighboring stall that they’d “just barely made it”. This was the worst thing about waiting in line like this, having to listen to other people do the thing she needed so, so very badly.
    Naomi looked back at Fawn again. Fawn was her mirror image, legs coiled together, hands squeezing with all their strength. Her expression radiated with need, urgency and pain. The most agonized look that Naomi thought she had ever seen on anybody. Fawn’s eyes were darting in every direction, lip caught between her clenched teeth as she nearly hyperventilated. Her face was flushed with a sheen of sweat.
     
    Flushed. Naomi wished she’d thought ANY word but that one.  Her fingers kept pinching into her opening, her urethra stinging and screaming for the pressure to evaporate. Rather than evaporating, it just got worse and worse and worse. Her panties felt utterly soaked beneath her palms, like a rag left at the bottom of a bathtub for hours.
     
    And for whatever reason, she kept glancing towards Fawn. Her heart was twisting for the other girl, whom now almost looked like she was about to burst into tears. Naomi wasn’t sure WHY she felt so much sympathy for Fawn, when EVERYONE was in the same position as her. Perhaps it was just easier for Naomi to feel bad for someone who’d get to pee AFTER her than it was to feel that way for someone ahead of her, still separating her from a stall.
     
    Finally, a toilet flushed and a door popped open. A very relieved looking girl exited and headed for the sinks, and Naomi rushed for the now vacant toilet. She leaked profusely every step of the way there and barely even remembered to shut the door and lock it before sliding her sodden panties slickly down her legs and taking the seat she’d been dreaming about for ages.
     
    The instant she felt the porcelain beneath her, all bets were off, a waterfall erupted from between her legs and fell with an echoing hiss into the bowl. Finally, she was peeing like she’d been dying to all day. She couldn’t resist a moan as hours as hours of suffering and torment came at last to such a blissful end. She didn’t think she’d ever stop being amazed by how GOOD it felt to relieve herself after such a long, awful wait.
     
    She heard the stall beside hers being slammed closed and when she looked down at the gap, she saw Fawn’s feet jumping frantically before her pants and panties laid bunched around her ankles. “Can’t wait…” Fawn muttered. “Can’t wait… Ahhhhhhhhh….” Now, she was clearly sitting on the toilet, and letting out a geyser that rivaled Naomi’s in sheer force. She panted breathlessly. “Wow…” she managed with a soft exhale. “Didn’t think I was gonna make it…”
     
    “Me neither,” Naomi agreed, continuing to pee as if her life depended on it. It took well over a minute for both girls to finish up and depart from their stalls. They washed their hands at the sinks together and then ended up walking out and down the hallway side by side. Naomi was self-consciously looking down at herself, like she did every day. She’d attempted to dab off her legs with some toilet paper, but her white socks had obvious spots on them, and she could feel the way her drenched panties clung to her skin.
     
    Fawn’s damage was even more obvious though… One disadvantage of wearing pants rather than a skirt. Her butt displayed an enormous dark patch, and her pant-legs were streaked with liquid as well. Even if she’d gotten to a toilet in the end and released most of her pee where it belonged, she looked as though she’d had an accident. Fawn looked down at herself in horror. “Oh my God… This—“
     
    “I—It’s okay,” Naomi said. “Not your fault. It could have been worse…”
     
    Fawn nodded, she knew she COULD have poured the entirety of her bladder into her clothes instead of just PART of it. But, an almost-accident and a complete-accident both left the same mortifying stains. “This is… The worst it’s ever gotten. Like, every day, I almost pee my pants, but… I can’t go home like this.”
     
    “I’ve almost wet myself every day, too,” Naomi said. “I know how it—“
     
    “No, I really can’t go home,” Fawn interrupted. “My Dad’s gonna be so mad if he sees this. Every afternoon, he sees the wet spots and he just yells at me about how I’m too old to be having accidents, that I should KNOW when I have to go—“
     
    “Haven’t you told him about the school policies?”
     
    “I have,” Fawn said. “And it doesn’t make a difference. He still says it’s my job to be responsible and plan ahead AROUND the policies, since that’s what it’s gonna be like when I get a job.”
     
    Naomi didn’t think there were very many jobs where the boss could force all the employees to hold their bladders for eight hours straight, and wouldn’t even make an exception if someone was about to have an accident. “How about this; I’ll take you to my house and get you something to change into. We’re about the same size, so I’m sure my stuff will fit. I’ll wash those pants and bring them back tomorrow.”
     
    Fawn smiled. “Y—Yeah,” she said. “That’s really nice, Naomi.”
     
    So, that was what the girls did. They reached Naomi’s house and Fawn changed into a pair of Naomi’s pants before heading home. Her Dad didn’t see her in sodden clothing and so had no reason to berate her. The next morning, Naomi returned Fawn’s pants… Which was good, because it gave her something ELSE to change into when the school day ended with yet another near-accident for her.
     
    This routine kept up for the remainder of the week, and in the process, Naomi made her first real friend at her new school. They even decided to go out together that weekend, heading to the mall. That was the most fun Naomi had had in a while, Fawn was awesome to be around when they weren’t both squirming and writhing at the end of a line for the toilet. They actually had a lot of common interests, they both enjoyed rhythm games and shoujo mangas. They agreed on which pizza toppings were the best. They each loved rock music more than any other genre.
     
    They were quickly becoming the best of friends. Which was a VERY good thing, because the next Monday, there came a moment where both of them REALLY needed a good friend by their side.
     
    It was already shaping up to be one of the worst days of Naomi’s life for one very awful, and very stupid, reason. Somehow, and she had absolutely NO idea how, Naomi managed to wake up, get dressed, head out, and walk all the way to school without using the toilet at any point. She didn’t understand how she could have forgotten it. She’d been really exhausted since she’d had a test to study for, but still… Arriving to school with a freshly drained bladder was a REQUIREMENT. She didn’t now how she was ever going to manage now.
     
    But, she told herself, she was lucky! She’d gotten to school early, AND she’d realized her mistake in time to remedy it. She’d visit the restroom before the first bell had even rung, get rid of all that had accumulated during the night, and there would be no problem. She hurried down the hallway to the nearest girls’ room and tugged on the handle.
     
    It didn’t budge.
     
    She tugged again, much harder.
     
    Still nothing.
     
    It was locked.
     
    She tried not to give up hope and rushed to the next closest bathroom, but that one was locked as well. Blushing, she spun around and gave the men’s room a try, and didn’t have any better luck there.
     
    The restrooms were still all locked up from when everyone went home last night. Dread knotted up in her stomach and coiled around her bladder like a snake. If she didn’t get this done before school, when WOULD she be able to go? She didn’t think she could wait until the end of the day like she usually did— Instead of leakage and sodden panties, she’d be standing in a lake!
     
    She decided that the best thing she could do would be to wait right here, right next to the locked women’s room. Someone would HAVE to unlock it before the bell rang, and she could dash in for a much needed pee. This wasn’t the easiest thing in the world; Naomi was now a girl with an uncomfortably full bladder standing and staring at a door that held the universal symbol that meant ‘Toilets right here, come in and let it all out.’ But, she couldn’t go in, so the sign did nothing more than taunt her as she waited and waited. She started to tap her foot, trying to convince herself that the action was merely a product of boredom, and NOT a form of squirming intended to ease the tension in her bladder.
     
    It was ten minutes before one of the hall monitors started to approach the door, and Naomi’s abdomen went light and loose with anticipation. In a matter of seconds, she’d be on the toilet, panties around her ankles, ridding herself of the pressure.
     
    When the hall monitor spotted Naomi, her brows lowered. “What are you doing here?” She asked. “Students are supposed to wait in the auditorium until the first bell rings.”
     
    “I was on my way there,” Naomi explained. “But, I need to use the bathroom, and the doors are all locked.” She bounced a couple times on her toes. Her body had been so certain of relief, her muscles had already unclenched a bit, it was making her feel so much more eager to go… “Could you unlock this one for me?”
     
    “‘Fraid not,” the hall monitor said. “I haven’t got the keys. Go to the auditorium.”
     
    “Actually, I was going to wait here until someone who DOES have the keys comes—“
     
    “We can’t have students wandering the halls. Go to the auditorium. I’m sure the toilets will be unlocked after first period.”
     
    Naomi’s heart pounded. Perhaps one of the bathrooms WOULD be unlocked then, but by the time she found which one was open, the line would be so long. And they were only allotted two minutes between classes. Once those two minutes were up, someone would come and lock the door again, regardless of how many students were still waiting to go! She wasn’t psychic, but she had a fairly good idea of what her future would entail if she went to the auditorium instead of continuing her wait for the toilet.
     
    Naomi bounced a few more times, trying to emphasize her problem to the hall monitor. She kept her voice level and calm, hoping that politeness would get her somewhere. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just, I really need to go. The end of first period is… Over an hour away, I’d prefer to use the bathroom before—“
     
    “I’m supposed to write you up for even BEING here,” the hall monitor interrupted. “I’m trying to cut you a break, but if you don’t head to where you’re supposed to be, I might change my mind.”
     
    Naomi reluctantly walked down the hall towards the auditorium. A few other students were here early as well, milling around. Naomi didn’t see Fawn, which disappointed her. She needed something to get her mind off her bladder, off of how uncomfortable it already felt. She felt a constant low thrum in her midsection, her body so confused as to why she’d been awake for so long without relieving herself.
     
    She glanced towards a door at the other end of the auditorium. That one, she knew, led outside. Thinking back to earlier fantasies brought on by pure desperation, she wondered if she should go out that door, head to the forested area behind the school, and just squat. That would sure beat fighting to get a toilet break all day. And it would DEFINITELY beat risking an accident.
     
    It wouldn’t even be a big deal. Naomi had never really been one for bashfulness. She dressed pretty and girly enough, but she wasn’t the type to be afraid of getting a little dirty, or to worry about what was and wasn’t ladylike. If peeing in the woods was the best option left available to her, then she’d just go pee in the woods.
     
    She headed towards the door and, for the second time that morning, her internal sphincters started to unwind in preparation for the end of her hold. She actually felt weirdly excited. This would be her first time answering nature’s call in nature itself. Maybe it would be sorta fun!
     
    She reached the exit and pushed it open, stepping outside onto the blacktop. She walked across it carefully, hoping no member of staff was around to spot her out of place again. She kept walking until she finally noticed the problem.
     
    Last week, the black top had been open, after a person walked all the way across it, they could go straight into the woods.
     
    Today, there was a new fence.
     
    Naomi stood in place for a moment, swaying as she tried to spot some kind of gate she could pass through. She didn’t see it, and she knew it would probably be locked anyway. She doubted she could climb the fence without being noticed. Her hands moved up under her skirt, gripping her panties as though to tug them down. She needed to go… Her urethra was twitching, bladder furious at having its relief snatched away two times now.
     
    She could just go back a few feet until she was right next to the school, yank down her underwear and lower herself into a crouch. She could pee there… Her bladder stung at the thought. She wanted to…
     
    But, she was in a LOT more danger of getting caught in the act if she did it right next to the school. She thought she’d be mostly okay if another female student spotted her, but if a guy did it, or— worse— a member of the staff…
     
    She didn’t think she wanted to risk that.
     
    Maybe… Maybe she’d get lucky today and, on the way to first period, she could pop into the (hopefully now UNLOCKED) bathroom and go. Everyone ELSE hadn’t been stupid this morning, they’d probably ALL peed before coming to school, so there wouldn’t be a line this early.
     
    She really, REALLY hoped that her new plan would work.
     
    She went back into the auditorium, willing the first bell to ring so that she could return to the halls and try to use the restroom again. When that moment came, she was the first one out, walking as fast as she could towards the girls’ room she’d been shooed away from earlier. She tugged at the handle and her heart sank down until it was resting uncomfortably atop her still filling bladder.
     
    The door wasn’t opening.
     
    She spotted a different hall monitor and went up to him. “H—Hey,” she said. “Do you have the door for that room? I have to go.” She shifted between her feet. She didn’t feel desperate enough that she just HAD to jiggle, but a fidgeting girl was sure to get at least a little sympathy, right?
     
    “I do,” he said, and Naomi almost leapt for joy, but then he continued. “We aren’t supposed to unlock them yet, though. Not until after first period.”
     
    Naomi wriggled her hips and bent over a bit, trying her best to drive her point home. “C—Can you make an exception? I just— I need to go now. And I wanna be able to concentrate in first period,” she added that last part in another attempt to appeal more to him. Yes, Naomi was a very good student, and she needed to go to the toilet to keep her grades up!
     
    “Sorry,” he said. “Students are supposed to go at home before school.”
     
    “I— I forgot this morning,” Naomi whined. Her bladder pulsed harder inside her, its desire to drain seeming to ratchet up a few more degrees every time she was denied. “Please? I’ll be fast!”
     
    “I want to,” the hall monitor said. “I think these rules are ridiculous, but I’m not allowed to break any of them. Just get to class, I promise this one will be unlocked afterwards.”
     
    Naomi trudged miserably to first period. At the moment, her anxiety about not being able to go to the bathroom was worse than her desperation to do it, but she knew that was going to change fast. She took her seat and faced forwards as more students filed in.
     
    One of them was Fawn, whom took the spot right next to Naomi. “Hey,” Fawn said. “Something wrong?”
     
    “I have to pee,” Naomi responded. “I forgot to use the bathroom this morning, and all the toilets are locked. And they put up a fence out back so I couldn’t even go in the woods.”
     
    Fawn frowned. “You were actually gonna use the woods?” She asked, shocked. She’d fantasized about doing that before, sure, but she’d never once thought she’d actually have the nerve to DO it. “Is it that bad?”
     
    “Not an emergency yet.” Naomi said, fidgeting with her feet beneath her desk. “But, there’s no way I can make it until the end of the day.”
     
    Fawn nodded. Poor Naomi… It was always so close even when she DIDN’T start the day already a little full…
     
    “The guy told me the toilets will be open after this class, so I’m gonna go then… The line shouldn’t be too bad, I don’t think…” Naomi kept mumbling to herself, her bladder sending her nervous twinges that made her tense up her thighs.
     
    “I hope so…” Fawn said. “I’ll go with you.”
     
    Naomi watched the clock carefully for the next hour, the thrumming pressure in her abdomen building into more of a pulsating ache. Every few seconds, there’d be a sharper bolt of need that rippled through her, forcing her to squeeze her thighs together rhythmically. When the bell rang and she stood up, her liquid all surged downwards in a panicked rush at her opening. She had to bounce a few times to overcome the spasm.
     
    Fawn looked at her with sympathy. “You made it,” she encouraged.
     
    Naomi gave a shaky nod, and the girls exited the classroom together. They went down the hall, towards the restroom Naomi had been PROMISED would be unlocked.
     
    To her immense relief, it WAS open.
     
    However, there WAS a line.
     
    Not a long one,  but enough that she was worried about getting a turn before the two minute long passing period was over. She scrambled to take her place at the end of the line, all too aware of the sounds of toilets flushing pouring out the door.
     
    Naomi’s urge had gone from annoying to insistent, her bladder sending numerous warning pangs, telling her that if she didn’t get into a stall soon, it was going to start getting painful. The waistband of her skirt felt tighter than it usually did, snuggly pressing against the curve of her bladder. She crossed her legs as she stood in the line, squeezing her thighs together.

    Fawn got in line behind Naomi. She was starting to feel the need as well, just a slight buzzing against her sphincters that was very far from an emergency, but she was sure a pee would feel pretty good right now. She still made sure Naomi was ahead of her, knowing the other girl had held it for way too long already and was in a much worse state. Fawn hoped that there would be enough time for Naomi to have a turn before the door had to be locked once more.
     
    Naomi stepped in place as she waited, raising one heel after the other off the floor. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her teeth worried at her lip. She counted the people ahead of her, there were only five, but would they all be done in under two minutes? She silently begged for the other girls to all make it fast, she didn’t want to spend another class period distracted by the ever-present throbs pushing against her opening.
     
    Contrary to how things usually felt when she was waiting for a toilet, time seemed to be moving in fast forward for Naomi now. She knew at least one minute had already passed her by, leaving a mere sixty seconds for her to reach the front of the line. Her bladder was doing anxious cartwheels inside of her, and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to be having a dance party. Only three girls left ahead of her now, and the closer she got to the restroom, the worse she had to go. Her poor bladder had been teased so relentlessly this morning, and still hadn’t learned its lesson, because she felt her muscles loosening on their own in anticipation.
     
    Two more in front of her…
     
    One more…
     
    She was next! She was gonna make it! She was gonna get to—
     
    Just as the final girl left the restroom and Naomi was about to go in, the bell rang and the same hall monitor from earlier stepped in front of her and started to lock the door. “H—Hey!” Naomi cried, rubbing her knees together. “I didn’t get to go yet!”
     
    The hall monitor turned around, frowning when he recognized her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s the policy, there’s nothing I can do about—“
     
    “But— You said earlier that I could go after first period!” Naomi protested, she bounced and bounced, dismayed by how much genuine NEED she had to do that now. The jiggling wasn’t merely an act to appear more sympathetic, it was NECESSARY to quell the aches rippling through her midsection. “It’s after first period, so let me go!”
     
    “I’m sorry,” the hall monitor repeated. “Second period is already starting, I could get in trouble if I bend the rules for y—“
     
    “She hasn’t gone to the toilet since yesterday,” Fawn interrupted, putting a hand to her squirming friend’s shoulder. “Can’t you make an exception?”
     
    The hall monitor only apologized again. Naomi was getting sick of hearing the words “I’m sorry”. If he was REALLY sorry, then he’d let her use the restroom! “You can go after second period, or third… Or, you SHOULD be able to go at lunch…”
     
    “I need to go now,” Naomi stated firmly. Her chest felt hot and achey, she was burning up with frustration. This whole policy was so ridiculous! If she wasn’t allowed to take a pee break during class, then it made no sense to make it so difficult to use the bathroom OUTSIDE of class time, too!
     
    “I know, I understand,” the man said. “You can go after your next class, now hurry before you’re late.”
     
    Naomi stomped off, trying not to shout. She didn’t think he ‘understood’ at all! How would he like it if he’d been made to hold his pee ALL freaking morning, and the second he was about to FINALLY let it out, someone just locked the door and ordered him to hold it for another whole hour?!
     
    Fawn sat beside Naomi again in their next class. She was very worried for her friend now, and her own bladder had begun to spasm. It was as though Naomi’s discomfort was somehow contagious. She had to scissor her legs back and forth a few times to alleviate a few sharper pangs down below.
     
    The two fidgeted restlessly until the end of class, and Naomi practically sprinted to the women’s room afterwards. But, the line was even longer than it had been an hour ago, and she was nowhere near the front of it before the door was locked. Again, she protested it, squirming and wriggling where she stood, anxious sweat flowing down her face. “I’ve had to go all day! Please, just let me use it! I’ll be really fast!”
     
    It was a different hall monitor now, and this one was less friendly than the man from earlier. She didn’t even bother to feign any sympathy for the jiggling, needy girl and her steadily distending bladder. “Get to class,” she said.
     
    Fawn shook her head, “We’ll go to class after we pee,” she said. The twitching tingles in her midsection had transformed into sharp, jabbing pokes. It was about the same level of need she USUALLY felt at this time of day, which was to say that she was beginning to feel a tad desperate. “Promise.”
     
    “Get to class,” the hall monitor repeated. “Or, I’ll have to write you up.”
     
    “Fine,” Naomi huffed. She didn’t care about getting in trouble. Hell, if she brought a note home to her parents that said ‘Naomi insisted on using on bathroom after being told no’, they would just wonder why in the world she was being punished for simply needing to GO.  “Write me up after I go to the toilet.”
     
    “No, if you choose this, you’re going straight to the office. No bathroom. Get to class.”
     
    Naomi’s heart sank, weighing down atop her full bladder. She liked so many things about this school! The homework was easy, the teachers were all good at explaining things, she’d made a nice friend… But this ONE thing was just SO horrible that it was impossible for her to feel happy here!
     
    Naomi and Fawn went in separate directions for their next class, and both spent the entire period tapping their feet and crossing their legs. The bell rang, and they met up again at the end of the line for the girls’ room. When Naomi saw its length, she felt like crying. She knew she wouldn’t get a turn, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk away and just go to her next class.
     
    Fawn tugged at the waist-band of her shorts, trying to move it away from the hard flesh in her middle. Her bladder was well and truly full now, and her feet were in endless motion, slapping against the floor with audible taps.
     
    Naomi was even worse off, of course. Fawn saw that her hands were gripping the edges of her skirt, pulling at it. It was clear that the girl longed to put her hands between her legs, but was trying hard not to give in to the desire. She marched in place, squeezed her eyes closed, and then leaned forwards.
     
    Fawn assumed she was just doubling over in response to a more severe pang, but then she heard Naomi speak to the girl right in front of her. “C—Can I cut?” She asked. “Please? It’s just— I’ve been trying to pee all day, and they always lock it before I—“
     
    The other girl shook her head, swaying from side to side in a way that suggested she had quite a bit of liquid sloshing around within her. “No, I can’t wait.”
     
    Naomi frowned, looking at this other girl’s posture. She supposed she DID look uncomfortable, but Naomi was CERTAIN she needed to go a whole lot worse. She should be allowed to cut! Her urethra was starting to sting, muscles growing sore from the hours and hours of forced retention. Her eyes stung as well, panic running coldly through her veins. She knew she wasn’t going to get to a stall before fourth period, she’d have to endure another hour of fullness. But then, it would be lunch. Would she be able to go during lunch?! If she didn’t, then she’d… She’d probably have to hold it to the end of the day as usual. She COULDN’T hold it to the end of the day this time, she KNEW she couldn’t. There was literally no chance of that happening!
     
    Her anxiety must have been causing her to shake, because she felt Fawn touch her arm. “L—Lunch is just one more hour,” she encouraged. “Then, we’ll have thirty whole minutes to use the bathroom!” She was trying to sound upbeat and positive, but she wasn’t any more optimistic about their chances than Naomi was.
     
    Seeing Naomi so frantic was having a noticeable affect on Fawn. Her earlier thought about the desperation being contagious came back to her. Just having to watch her friend writhe and whimper like that made Fawn’s bladder shudder with enough sympathy pains that she had to cross her legs.
     
    The bell rang. The door was locked. Neither Naomi nor Fawn got to pee. The wriggly girl who’d refused to let Naomi cut didn’t get a turn either, and Naomi heard her moan as she walked towards her fourth period class. That girl’s legs were wobbling, but not as badly as Naomi’s were when she started moving. It now felt like she was balancing a glass of water on her head, and that one wrong move would make it spill over and drench her.

    During fourth period, Naomi was left with no choice but to start cupping herself, fingers buried against her twitching opening. Her thighs flexed and rubbed against one another as she stared at the clock, willing lunch time to hurry up and start. She wished she shared this class with Fawn, so that they could pass notes. She thought that would be a serviceable distraction from what was now a rather painful need.
     
    The lunch bell rang and Naomi sprang up. She’d intended to bolt for the cafeteria right after, but her bladder had NOT appreciated how quickly she’d gotten to her feet. A sick earthquake of a spasm sent ripples through her bladder, making it feel like oceans were at war inside of it. Every step stabbed through her like the sharpest of blades. She shuffled slowly through the hallway, passing a bathroom.
     
    She doubted it would be open, but she gave it a try anyway. Of course, it was indeed locked. Only the cafeteria restrooms were unlocked during the lunch hour. Another stupid, awful rule that only succeeded in forcing the students to squirm, and costed them their time to eat. As she continued her pained, contorted walk to the cafeteria, her hands pressed themselves into her crotch. She was amazed by how much better that made her feel, even the smallest lessening of the pressure was a relief.
     
    Naomi wasn’t even that hungry, though. Her body was so full of fluid that she couldn’t even bear the thought of putting something else into it. She entered the cafeteria, and she spotted the massive line for the girl’s room on the other side of it. Fawn was at the very end, bending forwards and backwards, one hand lightly touching her lower stomach as though for comfort.
     
    Naomi stood beside her, and was surprised when Fawn encouraged her to cut in front. Fawn was stepping in place and so obviously struggling, but she STILL wanted Naomi to have a turn first. Naomi was so grateful, the throbbing pinches squeezing her urethral sphincters even eased off for a second.
     
    But, ONLY for a second, because when Naomi picked up on the sound of a toilet being flushed from inside the restroom, the boiling pains re-ignited. The scorches of need were sharp and acidic, and it felt like the pee wasn’t even confined merely to her bladder anymore. The pressure had spread and moved out, weighing down her entire body. Like she had overflowed to such a heinous degree that pee was attempting to flood into any hollow space it could find within her.
    And there were so many people in front of her. She knew this restroom only had two stalls, and she was scared that even THIRTY minutes wouldn’t be enough time for her to get to one. She bobbed up and down, pushing her fingers more tightly against her bladder’s only exit pathway. “F—Fawn,” she said. “H—Has the line at least been moving k—kinda fast today?”
     
    Fawn shook her head, looking absolutely miserable. Her hips swayed and the clack of her shoes against the linoleum floor was constant. “Th—That’s the thing, only one of the stalls is working today, and—“ She bent over double, releasing a moan in protest of the vicious waves that had just slammed against her floodgates. “And— Oooh— This is gonna take forever.”
     
    Naomi just stared at Fawn for a second. She couldn’t imagine worse news than that. There was just ONE toilet available for dozens and dozens of bursting girls? Couldn’t they have unlocked some of the other bathrooms after they discovered THIS one wasn’t fully operational? “Th—They should have opened another—“
     
    “Someone else already asked,” Fawn interrupted. “They aren’t opening the others, because of how we aren’t allowed to leave the cafeteria during lunch.”
     
    Naomi stomped her foot once in frustration, and then three times more to quell the incredibly angry sloshing of her bladder. At her LAST school, juniors and seniors were allowed to leave the cafeteria— Hell, they were allowed to leave the SCHOOL during lunch if they wanted! Here, they were being treated like little kids that couldn’t be left alone for five minutes! “I don’t get it, do they just like to make us hold it? I’m surprised I haven’t seen anyone have an accident, or get sick, or—“
     
    “Th—That’s right, you’re new,” Fawn said. She uncrossed her legs and wrapped them back around in the other direction. She leaned hard against the wall and her knees buckled as she tried to remain standing. A small spot of heat bloomed inside her panties and she pushed both hands against herself, fighting to regain her bearings. “Ah— Th—They put in all these restrictions a couple y—years ago. There was th—this thing where some guy was hiding out in a closet and taking pictures of girls in the locker room. So the school completely cracked down on everything. They want to know where every one of us is at all times in case something similar ever happens.”
     
    Naomi could understand SOME new rules being put in after something like that. She could understand banning cell phones and other devices with cameras, and making students sign out whenever they left the classroom. She couldn’t understand taking it to this much of an extreme, and never, ever making any kind of exception for anyone. It should be obvious to anyone with functional eyes that Naomi genuinely just had to pee really, REALLY bad and that her only intention today was to relieve herself, not to do anything that would hurt someone. Why did EVERYONE need to be punished to THIS extent because one person had done something awful?
     
    The mention of the locker room DID give Naomi an idea. There was a gym class going on during every period of the day, meaning the locker rooms were always open. The locker rooms didn’t have any toilets, but they had shower stalls. If she wasn’t able to get to the front of the line before lunch was over, MAYBE she’d be able to get over to the locker room and go THERE without anyone catching her and ordering her back to her own class.
     
    God… The thought of squatting down in the shower and letting her stream hiss into the drain… Just picturing it made her want to moan from the imagined relief. She could practically feel it now, the immediate rush as she gave her sphincters permission to loosen, the shrinking of her bloated bladder, the ecstasy of letting it all go and no longer having anything to fight against, losing herself to a world of bliss…
     
    Hssssssss…
     
    It didn’t strike her that her relief was no longer imaginary until she felt warm liquid gushing into her strained palms. Ah! No! She was peeing! No, no— Please, not yet! She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed at her groin, tightening every muscle in her pelvic region. The leak ceased, but dribbles kept squirting out, and she dug her fingers in even tighter, falling into a crouch as her eyes screwed closed and she released a low, agonized moan. This was it! This was it— This was the day— She couldn’t make it, she couldn’t hold it! She was gonna have an accident right there on the cafeteria floor, her entire grade there to witness it happen.
     
    It was this thought that managed to give her the strength to plug her bladder shut again. The flow cut off completely, and not even a drop escaped for several seconds as she tried to remember how to breathe. Slowly, she stood back up again. But, she was unable to come to a full upright stance, she remained hunched over, and she didn’t DARE move her hands from her crotch. Her panties felt cold, damp and gross, but she kept her hands pushed against them, fearing that they’d get even wetter if she let go.
     
    “A—Are you o—okay?” Fawn asked. She had been in long bathroom lines with Naomi loads of times, she’d seen her get REALLY desperate, she’d seen her get leaky and sodden… But what had happened a moment ago was worse than anything Fawn had ever witnessed. Naomi’s loss of control had been AUDIBLE, pee hissing as it forcibly flowed from her, and it had lasted for at least ten seconds before she was able to stop it. That sound hadn’t helped Fawn at all, the noise was so tempting to her, a siren song to her bladder, telling it how EASY it would be to just give up and soak out into Fawn’s (still mostly dry) shorts rather than staying locked inside her body. “N—Naomi?”
     
    “I al—almost had an accident…” Naomi confessed miserably. She turned to the girl in front of her. “C—Can I please cut? I can’t hold it…”
     
    “And you think I CAN?” The other girl asked, and Naomi saw that she too was cupping her hands against her crotch. She could just barely make out a very small dark spot on her pants as well. “Wait your turn.”
     
    “I’ve been waiting my turn since seven thirty in the morning,” Naomi said. “I’ve waited as long as I ca—“
     
    The other girl’s expression attempted to soften, but the strain she was under made friendliness difficult. “L—Look, I’m sorry, but I’m about to pee my pants. I can’t let you cut.”
     
    Naomi was about to pee herself, too! She’d been about to pee herself for hours and hours! She knew this girl wasn’t going to budge though, and tried to picture herself in her shoes. If someone asked to cut in front of HER when she felt this frantic for the toilet, she definitely wouldn’t say ‘yes’, either.
     
    Minutes ticked by, each one stretching Naomi’s bladder further and drawing forth whimpers from Fawn’s throat. The line moved ridiculously slowly, each girl needing at least a minute in the  lone functioning stall before her bladder was completely drained dry. Naomi found herself looking over at the line for the men’s room. It too was long, and the guys waiting all looked like they were coming apart at the seams, but THEIR line moved far faster. Not only were BOTH stalls in the men’s bathroom still working, they ALSO would have a row of urinals, so many more places to go than what was available to Naomi and the other girls. That wasn’t fair at all, none of this was fair.
     
    She couldn’t handle the jealousy that washed over her as she watched the guys’ line shrink so quickly, so she made herself look elsewhere. Her gaze fell on the trash can at the other end of the cafeteria and, before she knew what was happening, she was fantasizing again. She imagined herself running over to the bin, pushing her panties down and perching over its edge, peeing out her waterfall in a thunderous rush of relief.
     
    That was one fantasy she wouldn’t act upon… Well, not unless the room was empty, anyway. If everyone else vacated the cafeteria, she didn’t think she’d have ANY qualms with turning the trash can into her toilet. It would be too tempting, it would feel too good to just… To just PEE—
     
    “Nnnnhhhh…” Naomi mewled, folding forwards more as new heat seeped into her underwear, wetting her palms.
     
    Fawn hobbled closer. She wanted to put a hand to her friend’s shoulder to comfort her, but by that point both of her hands were REQUIRED to stay glued between her quivering thighs. She felt like her holding muscles were on fire now, a burning ache ripping all through her abdomen, concentrating into a bright, sharp blaze inside her urethra. Drops slid out of her every few seconds. Single drops, that was all. Not enough for her to say that she was even peeing, not enough to give her any kind of relief. Just enough to flood her with panic, because she couldn’t get the dripping to stop. It was like her bladder was a broken faucet that could no longer be switched off all the way, constantly dribbling minuscule amounts of water.
     
    The second only three girls remained in front of Naomi, the bell went off. The ringing sounded more like a death knell to Naomi, and to ALL the students that hadn’t yet been granted their turn at a toilet. “N—No…” Naomi whimpered, breaking into an icy sweat. She couldn’t control herself anymore, she’d lost the ability to think rationally or to consider things like politeness and modesty. She shoved her way past the three girls ahead of her and made it to the door, ignoring their protests. She grabbed hold of the doorknob and started to pull. She actually got it open, she could SEE the working stall, she could see ITS door was open, she could see the toilet. In just a few seconds, she’d be sitting on it. In just a few seconds, she’d be peeing…
     
    “No,” a voice said, grabbing her wrist. “You heard the bell.”
     
    Naomi looked to the woman now holding her in place, she squirmed and writhed, trying to yank her hand back. She needed it between her legs, she could feel another leak right there, right at the very edge, ready to come out! “Please,” she begged. “It will only take a minute, I’m gonna have an accident if I don’t g—“
     
    “It’s time for class,” the woman said simply, like there was nothing to debate, like Naomi soaking her skirt wasn’t even a big deal.
     
    “I know, but I can’t hold it anym—“
     
    “I can’t hold it either!” Said one of the girls Naomi had shoved past.
     
    “Me too!” she heard Fawn add.
     
    “The bathrooms will be open again after your next class,” the woman said. “Just wait one more hour— It’s only an HOUR. I swear, all you girls get so dramatic about this every d—“
     
    “Because we have to GO,” Naomi said, trying to wriggle free again. The door was still open, she could still see the toilet out the corner of her eye.
     
    She was NOT allowed to get any closer to it, though. She, and everyone else that was still waiting, still holding, was sent out of the cafeteria and told to go to class.
     
    Naomi had her next class with Fawn but, while Fawn immediately started to hobble towards it, Naomi went in the opposite direction.
     
    Fawn turned, noticed her friend dithering. “None of the bathrooms are gonna be open,” she pointed out. She tried and failed to ignore how her bladder cramped with that acknowledgement, and she felt a small gush of slick heat pool into her panties. She already knew that this was going to be yet another day where she had to change her pants before going home. A wet spot was probably already visible on her crotch, she just couldn’t move her hands for long enough to get a decent look.
     
    “I— I know,” Naomi said. “I’m g—gonna go to the locker room…” She continued her sluggish pace down the hallway, towards the gymnasium. The locker rooms were right beside it. If she didn’t run into any members of staff on the way there, she’d be able to ‘use’ a shower stall really soon. Her heart thundered as she imagined what would happen if she WASN’T able to enact this plan. She didn’t think her bladder could handle even one more class without exploding into pieces and leaving her in an enormous puddle.
     
    Fawn started to follow her. “What f—“
     
    “Showers,” Naomi said. “I just… I can’t wait anymore.”
     
    Fawn froze in indecision for a second. The idea of using one of the school’s shower to get her relief sounded kind of… icky to her. She’d never peed anywhere other than a proper toilet. But, peeing her pants would be way grosser than letting it go down the drain. She decided to follow her friend.
     
    They fought against their burgeoning bladders, and managed to make it to the locker room door before a hall monitor spotted them and knew they weren’t where they were supposed to be. Naomi’s protests of “But, I need to pee so bad! I’ll die if I don’t go!” Died on her lips. The hall monitor saw which door she was trying to go through, and knew that the door didn’t lead to any toilets. She was sure that urinating in the showers went against another of the school’s many rules.
     
    So, they had to go all the way BACK to their next class, bodies protesting each step. They both felt so stretched out and bloated, they felt like they were carrying bowling balls in their stomachs. They were both dripping every so often. Just occasional droplets leaking free and making them blush with embarrassment, hearts pounding with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before the dribbles became streams, and those streams became impossible to stop.
     
    They entered their classroom, the teacher, Mr. Bowen, turned and glared at them over his shoulder. “Nice of you two to join us…” he said.
     
    Naomi flinched. She knew she was late, and she knew that wasn’t good. But— for God’s sake— if all of the toilets were just ALWAYS unlocked and usable, she would have gotten here right on time!
     
    Naomi took her seat, and Fawn was right next to her. Immediately, two sets of knees were knocking, feet sliding anxiously back and forth. Mr. Bowen was writing something on the board. Naomi was supposed to be copying it all down into her notebook. But, she couldn’t move her hands from between her legs to work a pencil. She was just gonna have to try to remember everything. She stared at the board and at the formulas written there, trying to copy them to her brain and commit them to memory. She could barely make out the symbols, they were all spinning and swirling, blurring at the edges. ‘So, that’s how you— Ah— I need to pee! No, no, focus. The formula for distance is— Nnnnh, I’m leaking!!’ She wriggled hard against her straining hands, grinding herself into her chair. Nothing was working! No dam was strong enough to fend off the typhoon trying to come through.
     
    Fawn wasn’t fairing much better. She was able to take notes with one hand for a while, the other working itself to the bone in the battle against her bladder, but after about ten minutes one hand simply wasn’t enough. She needed to use all of her strength to keep the urine at bay, and the strain was causing tears to form in the corners of her eyes. Occasionally, she would accidentally kick Naomi, or Naomi would accidentally kick her. Each time, the jolting surprise would prompt a spurt to flow into at least one pair of panties.
     
    Naomi felt so sodden, she didn’t understand how her underwear could be so wet, her thighs so clammy, and yet her bladder still so full. She’d leaked so much throughout the day, she was just lucky she’d been moving around so much so that it didn’t all end up in one big, obvious puddle. She was lucky she was wearing a skirt, her panties were soaked already but she’d been able to keep her skirt dry. Poor Fawn was wearing shorts, there was no way to keep them out of the line of fire when her bladder decided to force something free.
     
    Naomi managed to squirm in silent agony for another three minutes before her hand just shot up on its own. Startled, her bladder pushed out a leak and the one hand that remained at her crotch had to push in harder. She had no idea why she was even raising her hand, she supposed it was just out of habit from her memories of her old school. THERE if she raised her hand and asked “May I please use the restroom” the answer was almost always yes. Back when she’d attended her old school, she hadn’t even known the MEANING of the word desperate…
     
    She knew that word far too well now. She had become the very definition of it. Five days a week, her bladder became her own personal torture device, and she endured the full brunt of its awful power. How could her own body put her through so much blazing agony? Wasn’t it supposed to be on HER side?!
     
    Mr. Bowen turned and noticed her. “Yes, Naomi?”
     
    “C—Could I pl—please go to the bathroom?” Naomi asked. Her voice cracked, her vocal cords aching, every part of her pulled so taut in the effort of impeding the flood. There was not one millimeter of muscle inside of her that wasn’t in agony.
     
    As soon as the words were out of her mouth, several of her classmates piped up to request a toilet break as well. They moaned, complaining of how long they’d been holding it, how many times they’d already tried to go today. None of them claimed to have been waiting longer than Naomi already had been. When she looked at the clock, she determined that it had been somewhere around fifteen hours since she’d last gotten to enjoy the relaxing bliss of sitting down on a toilet. If anyone got to go now, it should be her!
     
    Fawn was the last to speak up and plead that she be allowed to pee as well.
     
    Mr. Bowen clapped his hands together, silencing everyone and startling Fawn into releasing a fairly intense squirt of liquid. The leak lasted two full seconds before, with a great deal of bouncing up and down in her chair, she managed to cork up the flow.
     
    Then, Mr. Bowen shook his head. “No, Naomi.”
     
    Naomi’s bladder couldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer anymore. It was going to empty very, VERY soon, the only question was whether it would empty into a toilet or into her panties. “But— But— It’s an emergency, I haven’t been in so—“
     
    “Go during lunch.”
     
    Anger joined the desperation to create a furious hurricane in Naomi’s stomach. “I tried! I didn’t get a chance t—“
     
    “You aren’t leaving,” Mr. Bowen stated. “Not only did you arrive to my class late, even if I DID allow you out into the hall now, none of the bathrooms are open. You may go after class. ALL of you may go after class. My class is not your time to use the toilet.”
     
    “But, I’m gonna have an acci—“
     
    “Let’s get back to work, shall we?” Mr. Bowen sighed, facing the board once more. He kept writing things on it, but Naomi couldn’t read a single word or decipher any of the symbols. She felt like she was going insane. Her legs bounced like pistons, her knees grinding together. She clenched her thighs, crossed her legs, wriggled back and forth, spread her legs out, recrossed them, cupped herself with every ounce of strength she had left, ANYTHING to just please, please keep holding it! She bounced up and down in her chair, the tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as a jet of pee audibly hissed out and re-warmed her still drying panties. “Oooohhhh…” she moaned softly, setting her head down on her desk and gritting her teeth.
     
    Fawn watched her friend, her brain caught between feeling concerned and focusing all its energy on helping Fawn maintain her tenuous hold on her own bladder. She stared down at her lap, at the hands digging against herself. She could make out the darkened material beneath her palms, and she could feel how sodden she’d gotten. It struck her then that, if she didn’t go to the bathroom after THIS class, she was guaranteed to pee her pants today instead. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to make it until the bell rang.
     
    She really didn’t think Naomi could make it that long…
     
    Naomi started to forget where she even was. The eyes of her classmates vanished, any knowledge of the fact that she was SUPPOSED to be paying attention to Mr. Bowen’s lecture faded. She couldn’t even hear him anymore, his voice had become a nearly inaudible buzz, just a lot of wordless, formless nothing. The room she was in blurred, all of the items around her turning into vaguely shaped blobs. The only thing in Naomi’s world that truly existed to her anymore was her bladder, and the raw, exhausted, totally shot muscles in charge of controlling it.
     
    This was inhumane, it was simply impossible for a girl to hold in liters upon liters of burning urine for this long. It had to come out. Her ears were ringing, her heart was thudding, and tears streamed down her face. She wasn’t sure if she was crying audibly or not, she could no longer hear clearly, was no longer fully aware of even her own actions.
     
    But, Mr. Bowen hadn’t snapped at her again to be quiet, so her tears must have been soft enough. What wasn’t soft were the occasional hisses of pee that continued to jet out from between her legs. She was no longer able to anticipate when one was about to happen, no longer able to grind her thighs together, squeeze a little tighter and try to prevent it. The leaks happened so suddenly, and each one made her more miserable. Her underwear was doubtlessly ruined, even though they were dark in color, she’d probably soiled them enough by now that a stain would remain anyway. The back of her skirt was starting to feel wet, too.
     
    She couldn’t do this anymore.
     
    It was over.
     
    The pain was so extreme, far beyond anything else she had ever experienced. The statement “I have to pee really, really bad!” did not even do justice to the powerful pressure she was under. This was Hell, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her body couldn’t take it anymore. The spurts were uncontrollable. She wasn’t going to make it to the end of this class, she wasn’t going to make it through the line for the bathroom, she wasn’t going to make it to a toilet. She was going to go right where she was, and with some dim acceptance of what was about to occur, she tried to maneuver her skirt around so that it wouldn’t get too badly damaged from the onslaught of water that was soon to be pouring from her.
     
    Maybe she’d get really, really lucky. Her panties would be drenched, and there would be a puddle left on her chair, but her skirt would stay mostly dry. Then, if she ran from the room fast enough once class was over, before anyone noticed the liquid left in her seat, she’d get away with this. No one would even know she’d had an accident.
     
    Fawn watched as Naomi’s hands shakily released from her crotch and started to tug the back of her skirt instead, lifting it up so that she was no longer seated directly on top of it. Fawn was confused, but too desperate to whisper and ask Naomi what she was doing. Fawn just kept grinding hard into her clutching palms, her fingers growing wetter and wetter by the second as more maddening, un-relieving drips spurted from her.
     
    Naomi squeezed her hands back between her legs, but by that point it was really no use. Her floodgates had been destroyed, and she was letting out a constant dribble that burned as it exited her. It was over. She was going to use her current seat as a toilet, and there was nothing she could do about it.
     
    With that final, despairing thought, her dribble gained a little more pressure, transforming into a real steady flow. Her panties warmed up considerably, heat spreading out below her as the fluid quickly overwhelmed the fabric to land on her chair instead. Holy… Ohhhh, that felt goooood… The dissipation of pressure inside her bladder along with the warmth surrounding her crotch created an all too intoxicating sense of relief. She sat there for a few seconds in a daze, lost in a world of hazy bliss while her urine pooled beneath her.
     
    She almost even moaned, but then just enough of her agony faded to remind her of where she was and WHAT exactly she was doing. She was in class, and peeing herself. And really ENJOYING the sensation of doing so. She couldn’t help that last part at all, it just… She’d held it so long, it felt amazing to go, even if it was in her panties. But, moaning would draw attention and someone would definitely notice what was happening. When her ears picked up on the subtle hiss of her urine sloshing out, she grew concerned THAT would garner her some unwanted attention too.
     
    Gritting her teeth, she tightened her muscles as much as she possibly could. As expected, this failed to make her stop peeing, only slowed the flow down enough that it wasn’t as noisy. It didn’t feel as spectacular anymore. She wanted to PUSH and pee with wild, reckless abandon, gushing it all out in an immense wave of total relief, but she couldn’t allow herself to do it that way. Everyone would hear it spraying and look over to watch as she emptied her bladder into her chair.
     
    For the next several seconds, everything was okay. Naomi was peeing, her bladder slowly shrinking back down, the puddle beneath her growing larger and larger, warmer and warmer…
     
    Drip…
     
    Drip…
     
    Plink…
     
    But, then the puddle had gotten TOO big, and little streams started to cascade OFF the chair, splashing to the floor. Naomi clenched and clenched and clenched, trying to stop completely— She’d been wrong, there was no way she could get away with this! She couldn’t take a secret leak in class! She should have fought against this harder! What had she been thinking— She HADN’T been thinking, her bladder had supplanted her brain, had taken full control of her, had tricked her into giving it what it NEEDED, what SHE needed— She couldn’t stop going, worse yet, she started to void even more strongly, the audible hissing was back and there was nothing she could do other than just sit there and keep letting it happen.
     
    At least the sensations of urinating after such heinous restraint were still pleasant. Really, really pleasant. She was amazed that this felt so good. It felt more incredible than any other pee she’d ever had, even it being an accident taking place in front of her classmates only diminished her euphoria a little. She could feel eyes on her, which made her blush though she didn’t dare to look, wanting to just enjoy this as much as she possibly could.
     
    Fawn jolted when she heard the first loud slosh strike the floor, her eyes jumped over to Naomi, whom was trembling and shivering in her seat, trails of liquid flowing out from underneath her, wetly gliding down both her own legs and the chair’s. Naomi was red-faced, humiliated, sweating… But also… Her eyes were glazed over, and her lips were parted. It was obvious, no matter how bad and embarrassing her situation actually WAS, a part of her was in Heaven simply because she was finally PEEING.
     
    It sure looked like it felt good… Fawn’s straining bladder felt close to splitting open! When more loud splashes pattered against the ground, a ton of bricks slammed directly on top of Fawn’s full bladder. The bloated, rounded curve protruding out of her lower stomach crumpled inwards, threatening to burst like a water balloon with a cinderblock dumped onto it.
     
    “Nnnnh!” Fawn gritted out, an involuntary noise as she doubled over, her holding muscles shuddering, the liquid squeezed behind them beginning to move. It surged down, down, down against her weakening muscles, and a thin, warm stream erupted from her opening, soaking into the already damp fabric of her shorts. She restrained the next surge, but it was torture. In a frenzy, she thought about letting out more pee if only to get rid of some pressure and give herself a better chance of making it, but she knew if she allowed her bladder to relax for even one second, she wouldn’t be able to restrain it again. She would completely pee her pants if she gave herself permission to go at all, so she fought to keep it ALL inside, pale, twitching, and close to tears.
     
    “I HAVE TO PEE!” Fawn exclaimed, hardly aware of what she was doing. Her voice sounded wrong to her own ears, and when she realized how loudly she’d said that, the embarrassment made her start to cry for real. She coiled up on herself, begging for the inevitable flood to stay where it was.
     
    Mr. Bowen sighed, not looking away from the board. “I know. And I’m very sorry if you think these rules are unfair…”
     
    Naomi, still in the process of drenching her seat, spoke next “L—Let her go!” She wanted at least ONE of them to make it!
     
    Mr. Bowen didn’t respond.
     
    Fawn whimpered softly, “I—It h—hur—hurts…” she gasped, another stream of liquid rushing into her shorts despite all the effort she was putting in to keep it locked up. It took over four seconds of absurdly delirious relief and utter terror to make it stop. Her body was in Hell, tormented, bloated, pulsating in white hot flashes of needy, painful urgency.
     
    In her blind desperation, she fumbled to her feet, losing quite a few squirts in the process. She struggled to the door, feeling tiny drips come out with every step.
     
    “Fawn,” Mr. Bowen said. “Get back in your sea—“
     
    “I can’t hold it anym—“ Fawn’s bladder jerked and convulsed, and she failed to stop another jet of urine. “A—Anymore…”
     
    Naomi, now finally nearing the end of her own release, watched Fawn with dismay. Her friend wasn’t going to make it, either. And Naomi didn’t know if she’d get back to her seat before her control shattered entirely— Naomi didn’t know if she’d even have the luxury of THAT little bit of privacy, or if she was going to have to soak herself with everyone still paying attention to her.
     
    Mr. Bowen didn’t even appear the least bit sympathetic! “Sit down. Wait until—“
     
    “I CAN’T—“ Fawn doubled over, both hands squeezed hard between her trembling thighs. She pressed down with all of her weight, but all that did was compress her bursting bladder. She was incapable of stopping the next leak, nor the one that came after, and then she… Started to pee, spraying with intense force.
     
    “N—No!” Fawn cried out, moaning as her bladder just voided even more strongly.
     
    Naomi felt the last of her liquid leave her, just as Fawn’s accident began to pick up and flood out in earnest. Her heart sank, the horror she felt for her friend overpowered everything else. She hardly felt the pleasure of her freshly emptied bladder, barely registered how much better it felt to be freed from the pressure, all she could focus on was how utterly humiliated poor Fawn was.
     
    She looked around, it did not appear that any of her classmates were amused by Fawn’s misery, which was good. Most of them looked sympathetic. A few of the ones that were squirming, desperate to do what Fawn was doing, even seemed to be a tad envious— Imagining how good it would feel to just give up and let it all flow. If Naomi hadn’t already wet herself, then the sight and sound of Fawn’s bladder exploding would have forced her to.
     
    Fawn crossed and bounced, folded in half with both hands still at the crotch of her jeans, but none of it did any good. She was peeing, just as hard and fast as she would have been had she been seated on a toilet. “Please!” She begged, not even sure whom she was speaking to. She was frozen, she couldn’t walk, even to dart out of the room to finish her accident in the empty hallway rather than the crowded classroom. “Please, please! Please!”
     
    Her cries didn’t mean a thing though, they couldn’t stop the torrent that flooded from her body. Her hips jerked back and forth, still trying to put an end to the release, squeezing her hands against her utterly soaked crotch, drenching her hands, but it did nothing! She peed and peed and peed, the fluid hissing through her shorts and trickling in pale yellow rivers down her legs, puddling to the floor. Pee cascaded down her thighs and the sides of her calves.
     
    Fawn started to cry, sobbing as she continued to wet herself right there in the classroom. The worst part of all was that her bladder was STILL throbbing urgently, STILL making her feel like she was desperate to go even though it had already burst, even though she was urinating for all she was worth. She writhed one more time and just gave up, her legs spreading apart on their own, her hands unclenching from her front, and her body continued to reject every last drop she had been carrying in a heavy, unstoppable wave.
     
    She couldn’t stop peeing, nor could she stop crying. This was the worst day of her life. She was eighteen, this was her last year of school, but she was having an accident in front of all her classmates as though she’d barely started Kindergarten. Her sobs were the only thing loud enough to cancel out the sound of her ever-growing puddle.
     
    After nearly two minutes of continuous gushing, her tap finally switched off. Her body had deflated with her bladder, and her mood along with it. She looked down, her shorts were so wet, only a few random patches of dryness that, if anything, just made it MORE obvious that she’d wet herself. The puddle she’d left behind was enormous, too.
     
    She still couldn’t move.
     
    “Well,” Mr. Bowen said. “This is why we tell you all to use the bathroom during lunch.”
     
    Naomi sprang to her feet, gripping the edge of her dress. Her panties had gone cold now, and they clung stickily to her skin. It was so uncomfortable, and the splattering noise that could be heard when her chair got pushed slightly through her puddle was humiliating and obvious. “We both TRIED to— I tried to go ALL day! There aren’t enough toilets for everyone to go! You don’t give us enough time!”
     
    “You’re all seniors, many of you are ADULTS,” Mr. Bowen said. “You’re at an age where you should be able to PLAN—“
     
    “Both of us have been going STRAIGHT to a bathroom between classes ALL DAY, we just never got a turn to USE any of them!” Naomi said. The clamminess of her underwear was starting to get to her. They felt like they had after her first day of school, where she hadn’t had time to pull them down before sitting on the toilet and had just peed through them instead. But, this was worse, because none of her urine had ended up where it was should have, in spite of all her best efforts.
     
    Fawn hiccuped, trying to stop her tears and calm down. At least she knew Naomi wasn’t going to make fun of her now…
     
    “Naomi, did you have an ‘accident’ too?” Mr. Bowen asked.
     
    Naomi looked down, and saw that a bit of her liquid HAD managed to slosh onto her skirt, there were several tell-tale dark spots dotting its material.
     
    “Both of you— Go to the nurses office, get changed, and come right back. You’ve disrupted my class more than enough for one day.”
     
    Tearfully, Fawn hurried from the room, and Naomi followed after her, blushing as her wet socks squished with every step. When she caught up to Fawn, she asked if she was okay.
     
    Fawn just shook her head, she was crying too hard to speak.
     
    “It’s not fair what happened,” Naomi said. “Mr. Bowen was a jerk…” He was really the only teacher in this school whom Naomi disliked. She was sure that, had they drenched themselves in anyone else’s class, they would have been met with a bit more sympathy about it. “It’s just… It’s not fair,” she repeated.
     
    Fawn still didn’t reply, merely kept walking in the direction of the nurse’s office.
     
    Once they’d reached it, they didn’t even have to tell the nurse why they were there. She could tell. Fawn’s accident was blatantly displayed by her sodden shorts, and while Naomi’s skirt had MOSTLY escaped her deluge, the yellow tint to her socks and the slick, shimmering quality to her legs were obvious enough.
     
    They were told to pick garments from the lost and found to change into and the nurse pointed out a small restroom they could go to for privacy as they got dressed. Stunned to see an unlocked toilet, Naomi started to ask “Could we come to use it sometimes?” She’d bet a lot of the students didn’t even know there was a toilet hidden here, much less that it was apparently ALWAYS available. She and Fawn could come HERE when they needed to go between classes, no more waiting in lines and missing their chances!
     
    The nurse shook her head, “If I let YOU do it, I’d have to let everyone do it. I can’t have a line here every day.”
     
    “But—“ Naomi nibbled her lip. “We only… We only had accidents today because we weren’t able to use any of the—“
     
    “I know,” the nurse interrupted. “And, believe me, you aren’t the first. I’ve spoken to the principal about changing the rules, but convincing that man of anything is like pulling teeth.”
     
    Naomi frowned. She sifted through the lost and found with Fawn until both girls had picked out pants that looked like they’d fit.
     
    When Naomi got changed, she realized there was nothing she could do about her ruined underpants. She hadn’t even thought about looking for another pair in the lost and found, not that she thought she wanted to WEAR a stranger’s used panties anyway. She took off her underwear and wrung them out over the toilet as best she could, but they still felt wet when she put them back on and pulled on the new pants.
     
    Fawn got changed next, she too had to try to squeeze out as much liquid from her panties as she could, but the clammy feeling stayed after she’d gotten re-dressed. Glumly, she decided to use the toilet while she was here. Her bladder hadn’t had enough time to re-fill much, but she was grateful to be allowed to let out even a tiny trickle in a proper place.
     
    She left the restroom, then she and Naomi went back to the hallway. Fawn had stopped crying and felt ready to talk again. “Th—Thanks for trying to stand up for me,” she said. “Ev—Even though it didn’t work.”
     
    “No problem,” Naomi said. “Thanks for sticking with me all day.”
  17. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from slothmallow in Embarrassing pee stories...   
    Months ago, I had the worst cold imaginable. I could barely breathe out of my nose and my throat felt clogged as well. Constant headaches, constant coughing. It was miserable. I took NyQuil before bed, along with my usual insomnia medication and fell into a very deep sleep. I also forgot to pee before heading to bed like I usually do, being sick had made my brain all foggy. 
    So, for the first time in my entire life, I actually peed the bed quite a bit. I was able to hurry and get a lot of it into the toilet after I woke up, but the sheets were still thoroughly drenched. I was extremely embarrassed, I had never even wet the bed as a little kid, but then I just suddenly did it as an adult while sleeping beside my partner. I could barely believe it had even happened. 
    My partner wasn't upset at least, he was just worried because I must have been really unwell if it had caused me to have a genuine accident like that. 
    His most embarrassing pee story for a while was actually the first time he was super desperate in front of me, funnily enough. The whole time, he thought I must have been getting very turned off and grossed out by hearing him whine about needing to pee so badly. The fact that he was so convinced of that at the time is something we both think is hilarious now. 
    Other than that, back when he still lived with his parents, he says there was a day he was coming home and was absolutely bursting. He literally made it right up to the front door and couldn't wait another second, so he had to pee on the grass. Luckily, no one saw him do it that he noticed, but just the way he was so close to an actual toilet and wasn't able to handle that last little distance was really embarrassing for him. 
  18. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from NerdyGayBoy in Embarrassing pee stories...   
    Months ago, I had the worst cold imaginable. I could barely breathe out of my nose and my throat felt clogged as well. Constant headaches, constant coughing. It was miserable. I took NyQuil before bed, along with my usual insomnia medication and fell into a very deep sleep. I also forgot to pee before heading to bed like I usually do, being sick had made my brain all foggy. 
    So, for the first time in my entire life, I actually peed the bed quite a bit. I was able to hurry and get a lot of it into the toilet after I woke up, but the sheets were still thoroughly drenched. I was extremely embarrassed, I had never even wet the bed as a little kid, but then I just suddenly did it as an adult while sleeping beside my partner. I could barely believe it had even happened. 
    My partner wasn't upset at least, he was just worried because I must have been really unwell if it had caused me to have a genuine accident like that. 
    His most embarrassing pee story for a while was actually the first time he was super desperate in front of me, funnily enough. The whole time, he thought I must have been getting very turned off and grossed out by hearing him whine about needing to pee so badly. The fact that he was so convinced of that at the time is something we both think is hilarious now. 
    Other than that, back when he still lived with his parents, he says there was a day he was coming home and was absolutely bursting. He literally made it right up to the front door and couldn't wait another second, so he had to pee on the grass. Luckily, no one saw him do it that he noticed, but just the way he was so close to an actual toilet and wasn't able to handle that last little distance was really embarrassing for him. 
  19. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from Zapp Renfro in My Commission Thread   
    Another from the same series. 
    *** 
    Vegeta understood the need for him to be on this trip; Bulma was winning an award for one of her inventions, of COURSE Vegeta had to be there to watch her accept it. He WANTED to be there to see her accept it, he was proud of her!
    What he didn’t understand at ALL was why Kakarot had to be here too. None of their other friends were tagging along, JUST Kakarot. What he understood even LESS were the sleeping arrangements at the hotel.
    “I’m going to be up all night rehearsing my speech,” Bulma said. “And, the last time I did something like that, you were in a terrible mood all day from being kept awake. So, this time, it’s best if we don’t share a room.”
    Okay. Fine. That was all well and good. Vegeta could definitely remember the last time Bulma had kept him awake until morning, it had been aggravating and he’d spent the entirety of the next day snapping at everyone and everything… Even more than he usually did! And, while he’d grown accustomed to sleeping beside Bulma, he could manage being alone for one night.
    Except, as it turned out, he wasn’t going to be alone.
    “Why the Hell do I have to share a room with Kakarot?!” Vegeta demanded once it was all explained to him. He couldn’t make sense of it! It wasn’t as though Bulma couldn’t AFFORD three separate hotel rooms!
    “What’s the big deal?” Bulma asked. “You and Goku have slept in the same room before.”
    “Well, I didn’t have a choice those times!”
    “You don’t have a choice THIS time,” Bulma said.
    “I do. Just get Kakarot his own room.”
    But, Bulma had just shaken her head, and made some comment about Vegeta’s Saiyan hearing, and how Kakarot ‘might be useful’ to him once they got there.
    Vegeta had no idea what THAT was supposed to mean, and made it VERY clear that he didn’t approve of this.
    Goku, on the other hand, understood it all right away, especially after Bulma told him Vegeta had never stayed at a hotel before and likely wasn’t picturing it accurately. Goku WAS familiar with hotels, he knew that they could sometimes be noisy. He knew that, with the strong ears of a Saiyan, it was easy to overhear people in other rooms.
    Goku also knew that Vegeta struggled to accomplish certain, important things if he could hear people talking or moving around near him.
    “Oh, okay. Yeah, I get why you want me to come,” Goku said.
    “Well, I DO want you to hear my speech too,” Bulma said. “I’m not JUST inviting you so you can help Vegeta with his… ‘Thing’ if any problems come up.”
    “I will help, though,” Goku assured. “Don’t worry— Worst case scenario, I should at least be able to teleport him somewhere that he’ll feel more comfortable.”
    “Thank you,” Bulma said, relieved. “That’s one less thing to worry about. And, I know I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but don’t let Vegeta find out why you guys are sharing a room.”
    “I won’t.”
    ***
    The day they left on their trip, both Vegeta and Kakarot groaned when Bulma insisted they drive so they could all go together. “Just allow me to teach you how to fly!” Vegeta complained. “It’s so much faster, and there are way fewer idiots up in the sky than there are on the road!”
    “No, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “The only way I’m leaving the ground is if I’m in a plane, you KNOW this.”
    “I could just use instant transmission!” Kakarot offered. “You said your parents are already there, so I only have to find their chi. I’ll have us there in half a second!”
    “I can’t believe I’m saying, but I agree with Kakarot,” Vegeta said, surprised that his rival seemed to share his dislike of cars.
    “I want to drive,” Bulma said. “It will give me time to think over my speech, decide if I want to change anything.”
    “Then let US fly,” Vegeta suggested.
    “I’m the one with all the check-in information,” Bulma said. “And, I don’t want to know what kind of trouble will be caused by the two of you getting bored inside this hotel.”
    “What’s the worst that could happen?” Vegeta scoffed.
    Bulma sighed, “It has an all-you-can-eat buffet,” she stated.
    “One that I’m not banned from yet?!” Kakarot asked, getting excited.
    Vegeta groaned.
    “Case closed,” Bulma said. “Get in the car.”
    Vegeta and Kakarot grumbled as they did as they’d been asked. Vegeta had no idea what Kakarot had against car rides. Vegeta knew why HE hated them; They were slow, having to wait for other cars was infuriating, and when other drivers failed to obey the rules of the road he was enraged. But, Kakarot was okay with taking it easy sometimes, the speed shouldn’t bother him too much, and he doubted Kakarot got that angry at other drivers, either. It just wasn’t in his nature to go into a spitting, blind fury because someone had cut him off.
    It didn’t take Vegeta too long to find out why Kakarot didn’t like riding in cars, though. And, recalling the misery of the drive to Trunks’s parent-teacher conference, Vegeta was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him. Kakarot’s bladder was FAR smaller than Vegeta’s, and he’d be feeling the bumps in the road and the pressure of his seat-belt just as strongly. And, with someone else driving, he couldn’t stop whenever and wherever he wanted to.
    When he heard Kakarot start to whine, “Bulma! You gotta pull over! Now!” everything clicked. Kakarot didn’t like long drives because he wasn’t able to hold it through them.
    He chose to announce his need for the restroom while they were on a barren road, though. Nowhere to stop. Not even any foliage to pee behind, as Kakarot so often did.
    “I can’t right now, Goku,” Bulma said. “You should have said something when we passed that gas station a while ago.”
    “I didn’t have to pee then!” Kakarot complained. “Just pull over, let me go here!”
    “No,” Bulma said. “There’s nowhere for you TO go.”
    “I can just do it in the dirt, come on!”
    “There are other cars out here, somebody might spot you.”
    “So?” Kakarot asked, shifting his legs back and forth and tapping his feet.
    “You could get in trouble,” Bulma said. “I had to pay ENOUGH of those fines for you when you were little.”
    Vegeta quirked a brow. “Fines?”
    “For public urination,” Bulma explained. “I’m not letting him get ANOTHER of those today.”
    Vegeta was still perplexed. With as often as Kakarot peed outside, if that resulted in a fine on this planet, then Kakarot should be completely broke by now. As the notion settled in his thoughts further, a buzzing formed in his chest. HE peed outdoors sometimes, if it was absolutely necessary and he was sure no one could spot him. But, if there was a chance he’d be FINED for that… Money was no issue for him, but the utter embarrassment of it all was a completely different story.
    He glared out the car window. Just fantastic, a new thing to worry about!
    “Come ooooon,” Kakarot pleaded. “There aren’t any police around here, so who’s gonna give me a fine?!”
    Vegeta relaxed a bit. Not only would someone have to SEE him for him to be fined— Meaning that he wouldn’t have been able to pee at all to begin with— that person would also need to be a member of the police. He would NOT be publicly humiliated the next time he needed to relieve himself in the woods.
    “Hold it, Goku,” Bulma said. “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”
    Kakarot kept shifting and wriggling, “But, Bulma! It’s gonna come out!”
    “I’m sure there will be a place to stop soon,” Bulma told him. “If… If there’s not one in half an hour, then you can go outside. How’s that? The longest you’ll have to wait is just thirty more minutes.”
    “Okay, deal!” Kakarot said.
    “Don’t barter with that idiot,” Vegeta scolded. “It’s his own fault that he needs to go so badly. He should have done it earlier, as you said.”
    “Vegetaaa,” Kakarot whined. “I didn’t have to go then! I— Ah!” He made a pained, wincing noise as the car hit over a bump and evidently gave an awful jolt to his full bladder.
    That lurch was also responsible for bringing the first few thrums of need from Vegeta’s bladder to his attention. The feeling faded after a few seconds, but Vegeta was aware now that he wasn’t empty, that he was starting to re-fill after the pee he’d taken right before they’d left. And that, unlike Kakarot, going on the side of the road in thirty minutes wasn’t an option. Nor would he be able to make use of a gas station if they stopped at one. All he could do was hold it in until they got to the hotel.
    He had no doubt that he’d be able to pee at the hotel. Bulma had explained to him what it would be like, and that it would be similar to his room at home. Since he could easily relieve himself THERE, then the hotel should be fine, too. His only worry was actually GETTING there before his bladder started to hurt him— Before his urge got bad enough that he was fidgeting around like the imbecile in the backseat.
    Kakarot kept squirming, when Vegeta glanced back at him, he had folded in half and grabbed ahold of himself. Vegeta couldn’t fight the blush that emerged as he watched, and he quickly faced back in the other direction.
    The next time he looked at Kakarot, he was putting his fingers against his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. “Are you trying to use instant transmission…?” He asked.
    “Yes!” Kakarot whined, bouncing in his seat. “But, I can’t concentrate!”
    “Goku, come on,” Bulma sighed. “It’s just a few more minutes.”
    Vegeta wished that he hadn’t, but he noticed the distinct differences between how Bulma treated him and how she treated Kakarot in this kind of situation. Any time Vegeta managed to tell her that he needed to go while they were out together— or he failed to keep his squirming subtle enough and she realized his bladder was full on her own— she didn’t respond to him like this. She NEVER groaned and told him to just hold it, nor did she tell him he should have relieved himself earlier. Instead, she’d encourage him to pee right away wherever they were, and when he inevitably refused and insisted he needed to go home, she would nod and allow him to do so.
    And, he NEVER begged and pleaded like Kakarot was doing. He’d just stammer and mumble the vaguest acknowledgement of his need that he could, and Bulma would let him go. Kakarot was acting FAR more desperate than Vegeta would EVER be able to allow himself to, but Bulma was just rolling her eyes and telling him to be patient.
    Vegeta shifted uncomfortably as he thought that over. Bulma was being far gentler with him, basically coddling him because of how awful his Problem was. Of course, he didn’t WANT Bulma to scold him or forbid him from flying home when he desperately needed to, but the realization that she was adjusting her behavior because he needed to be ‘accommodated’ stung. He wasn’t supposed to need special treatment over something as simple as pissing.
    ‘She only treats you differently because you’re married,’ Vegeta told himself. ‘It has nothing to do with your Problem. She just favors you over Kakarot— Like EVERYONE should!’ He knew that wasn’t it, though… Or at least, not ALL of it.
    They found a gas station eventually, and Vegeta watched Kakarot sprint out of the car, his hands between his legs the whole time he was running. Vegeta’s face burned with a confusing amount of embarrassment, HE wasn’t the one blatantly behaving like a fool… He wasn’t even getting out of the car. He had no reason to.
    Once Kakarot had entered the restroom, Vegeta found that he had to try VERY hard not to think about what his rival was doing in there. Vegeta’s own bladder was cramping quite a bit more now, and the knowledge that Kakarot was now accomplishing yet ANOTHER thing that Vegeta was incapable of was making the pressure hurt worse. He tried not to think about how relieved Kakarot must have been feeling, tried not to let the familiar grip of envy take hold of him once more— Not over something so STUPID!
    He shifted his legs just slightly, moving one ankle over the other. His gaze flew to Bulma beside him, and he relaxed a bit when she didn’t appear to be watching him. But, now his insides were demanding him to KEEP moving. Now that he’d allowed himself to squirm a little, he wanted to do it more…
    He gripped his knees to prevent them from bouncing, and hoped they weren’t THAT far from the hotel.
    Kakarot came back, and the moron was carrying some massive soda cups for some idiotic reason. “Vegeta, you gotta try this,” Kakarot said once he got back in the car. “It’s so good!”
    “Kakarot, after all that bitching and moaning you did about needing to piss, why the Hell would you drink so much?!”
    “Why not? It isn’t like I still have to pee now,” Goku shrugged.
    “But, if you drink ALL of that, then you’re just going to—“
    “And, besides, one of them is for you, or Bulma… Whichever one of you wants it.”
    Vegeta sighed as he accepted the cup. It was so big… The only way Vegeta would ever drink THAT much would be if he was at home and knew he wouldn’t have any reason to leave for the next several hours. No way was he drinking it when he was stuck in a car with no idea as to when they’d reach the hotel.
    Kakarot was noisily slurping from his cup, and it was getting on Vegeta’s nerves. The tingles in his midsection fluttered a little more violently as he was subjected to the sound. His urge for relief was worsening— And, even more aggravating than that, it was making him feel thirsty. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet today— A necessary precaution for a long trip like this. Now, his throat was painfully dry.
    The full soda cup resting beside him was extremely tempting, and the more he had to listen to Kakarot drink, the worse he felt.
    ‘One sip…’ Vegeta commanded himself. ‘Just ONE. Enough to get rid of that sand-paper feeling— Nothing more.’
    He reached for the cup and took a small, deeply hesitant sip. He knew that a few drops of soda would not be enough to break his bladder, but he was so timid about putting ANY liquid into himself when he’d have no way to get it back out again. When the fluid wetted his tongue, erasing the chalky sensation there, he felt a bit better. He really WAS thirsty…
    And, dammit, Kakarot was right! This soda DID taste amazing. He swallowed, and immediately had the urge to drink more. ‘No. No more,’ he thought. ‘A good warrior must be capable of restraint!’
    Kakarot kept drinking, loudly…
    Vegeta managed to ignore the soda for a few more minutes. It wasn’t easy. Now that he’d had ONE sip of something cold and wet, it was like he’d activated all of the nerve-endings in his throat and he was even MORE aware of how dehydrated he was. One, tiny sip hadn’t quenched his thirst, but had instead made it much worse.
    Eventually, the dry feeling got to be too much, and he took another sip. Fuck, it was delicious, and it felt so good pouring down his throat… Just a LITTLE bit more shouldn’t hurt, right? Just— Just a couple more swallows, just until his tongue stopped feeling so withered.
    ***
    ‘DAMMIT!’ Vegeta thought a little while later, when he realized he’d finished the entire cup. He certainly wasn’t thirsty anymore… But, he couldn’t take much relief in that, since he knew where all of that liquid was now heading, about to flood into a container that didn’t have a properly functional exit…
    His urge to pee had gotten a bit worse, it still wasn’t horrific or agonizing, but he could no longer ignore it, especially not with the knowledge of how much he’d just had to drink. He knew he had to stop thinking about it, concentrating on his bladder would just invite it to fill up faster. He was so frustrated with himself, though. How could he have allowed himself to drink all that, when he KNEW full well how badly it would turn out for him?!
    ‘Stupid Kakarot, why’d he have to give me this anyway?!’
    Speaking of Kakarot, the fool had finished his OWN soda ages ago, and was once again shuffling around in the backseat and pleading for a stop.
    Finally, to placate him, Bulma said something that instantly made Vegeta feel better. “We’re ALMOST at the hotel, Goku. Could you please hold on until then?”
    “Mmmmf, I’ll try!” Kakarot whined. “But, I have to go so bad!”
    Vegeta relaxed slightly. They were close to the hotel, and he had no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to pee there. They’d arrive, and he’d be able to take care of himself easily, with no one else needing to know about it.
    “Hold it in, Goku,” Bulma sighed. “You can do it.”
    “H—How much longer?” Kakarot asked, and Vegeta heard him squirming a little faster.
    “Thirty minutes,” Bulma said. “Alright? It won’t be that bad, I promise.”
    “Th—Thirty minutes,” Kakarot repeated. “Okay, okay… I think I can do thirty minutes.”
    Vegeta calmed down a bit more. HE could DEFINITELY do thirty minutes. He shifted a little in his seat when he remembered he and Kakarot were going to be sharing a room— Of course, he would have to let Kakarot go first. The idiot was about to piss his pants, after all. And, if Vegeta asked to take the first turn, that would be an admission that he was desperate— Such admissions were not permitted, and he WASN’T desperate!
    Not really, anyway. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to release his bladder, and his thighs were pressed a bit tightly together… And, yeah, maybe his legs were starting to shake a little, and he had to keep gripping his knees to keep them from bouncing. But, he was fine. He knew he could hold WAY more than this. He was fine.
    Thirty more minutes…
    When they finally got to the hotel, Vegeta had sweat on his brow, and he was constantly gripping his knees to force his legs to stay still. He was hyper-aware of Bulma beside him, and in spite of how much energy he was putting towards keeping himself still, he was convinced that he was SOMEHOW being obvious anyway, and that Bulma could easily tell that his bladder was throbbing urgently.
    Standing up for the first time in several hours was unpleasant. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought scornfully when his knees tried to buckle. ‘It’s just standing!’ But, his bladder was protesting loudly, and he felt like if he didn’t balance his weight JUST right, he’d end up doubling over and Bulma would know everything.
    “Mmmf!” Kakarot whimpered as he got out of the car. He was ALREADY doubling over, pitiful fool that he was… Vegeta felt his eyelid spasm when he saw Kakarot start to spring across the parking lot, over to a tree.
    No.
    Hell no.
    If… If Vegeta had to hold it, then so did Kakarot!
    “What are you doing, you moron?!”
    Kakarot looked back over his shoulder.
    “Goku, no!” Bulma scolded him. “Wait until we’re inside.”
    Kakarot anxiously stopped what he was doing and just continued to squirm as they entered the hotel. Vegeta tried to stay as far away from Kakarot as Bulma handled everything to get them checked in. Kakarot was being so… So OBVIOUS. Even if he would shut the HELL up and stop whining to Bulma about how much he had to pee, his constant fidgeting and bouncing would still be enough!
    How could Kakarot stand to ACT that way in public? Vegeta felt disgraced and ashamed if he squirmed that blatantly when he was ALONE! Vegeta was feeling himself burn up just watching Kakarot fidget. The embarrassment of being seen NEAR him when he was acting like this was almost as bad as if Vegeta had been the one dancing around like a complete imbecile.
    “Why isn’t there a bathroom in the lobby?” Kakarot complained as he paced in place beside Bulma. “That’s not fair.”
    Vegeta groaned and tried to act as though he’d never seen Kakarot before in his entire life. Without his notice, his foot had begun to tap with impatience. Yes. Impatience. And nothing else…
    He was also becoming aware of something else. His body was coming alive, and he could sense a ton of unfamiliar chi signals here. He knew he ought to have expected that, other people would be staying in this hotel too. But, since he couldn’t STOP sensing that energy, it was a little annoying. Distracting. He hoped the sensation wouldn’t keep him awake tonight.
    “Okay,” Bulma said, turning to Kakarot. “This is for yours and Vegeta’s r—“
    Kakarot grabbed the key out of her hand, “Vegeta, come on! Hurry!”
    Vegeta sighed and started to follow Kakarot, but stopped him when they reached the elevator. “No, Kakarot. We’re taking the stairs.”
    Kakarot looked at him as if he were being tortured… Which he kind of was. “What?! No, Vegeta! If you wanna race me up the stairs, I can’t do that right n—“
    “That’s not the reason,” Vegeta said. “I just highly doubt your ability to hold still in there. And, if you tap your foot as hard as you’ve BEEN doing it, you’ll break the elevator. And there are few things I want LESS than to be stuck in an elevator with YOU when you’re about to piss yourself.” His bladder pinched and his tip flared, reminding him that being stuck in an elevator would be a miserable time for him for a LOT of reasons. He shifted, very slightly, trying to calm the thrashing inside him.
    “Well, if the elevator gets stuck, we can blast our way out,” Kakarot reasoned.
    “Bulma will kill us,” Vegeta said. “Just walk up the stairs. I know you’re capable of that.”
    Kakarot’s eyes were watering, “But, I might… You know…” Kakarot was actually blushing… That was… Weird to see.
    “You won’t,” Vegeta groaned. “Now, come on.”
    Kakarot whimpered and complained the whole way up the stairs. His teeth were gritting, he was dragging his feet, and pausing every couple steps to jiggle around and take some stabilizing breaths. Vegeta actually… Slowed his pace a little. Not out of ‘concern’ or any asinine feeling like that, but merely because… Well, it would reflect poorly on ALL Saiyans if Kakarot pissed himself in public. That was all.
    They got to their room. Kakarot’s hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t unlock the door. He dropped the key a few times, and Vegeta had to try very hard not to let out a laugh that would have surely sent his own bladder into spasms. But, once Kakarot started to position his hands as if he were about to BLAST the door open, Vegeta had to step in.
    “Let ME do it, incompetent clown…” Vegeta grumbled, unlocking the door for him.
    “Thank you!” Kakarot exclaimed, rushing in.
    Vegeta stepped in after him, and there were problems.
    First, the idiot hadn’t bothered shutting the door to the restroom, so Vegeta had to quickly turn away to avoid having to watch him piss. Second, Kakarot was being so damned loud. His stream was gushing out with an ear-splitting hiss, and the fool was moaning his head off, too. Vegeta’s bladder gave a cramping lurch at the noises, and without meaning to, he started to bounce on his toes.
    He stepped further into the room in an attempt to escape that obnoxious sound, and was met with another, even worse problem.
    One bed.
    WHAT?! Bulma had ASSURED him that they would at least have separate beds! He was going to have to convince Kakarot to sleep on the floor again.
    And he could STILL hear the idiot pissing! Why did he have to gasp and pant and sigh so much?! Vegeta kicked off his boots and laid down on the bed, he turned on his side and covered his ears because… Because that sound was just so ANNOYING. That was it! And… And his thighs were just tensing up because he was THAT annoyed, yeah! His legs were only trying to cross because of how much Kakarot was irritating him.
    Kakarot finished after a few more seconds. Vegeta rolled his eyes when the fool exited the restroom without washing his hands off— Another reason to make Kakarot stay on the floor tonight, he had atrocious hygiene.
    “Oh, man…” Kakarot said. “That’s a lot better.”
    Vegeta sat up, thought his legs looked a little TOO close together, and forced them to inch outwards until he was sure it didn’t look like he had to pee at all. His spine shuddered when the next spasm went through him. “Fantastic, Kakarot,” he sighed, gesturing to the bed. “We have bigger problems right now.”
    Kakarot looked at him for a second, confusion etched on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry, Vegeta!” He said finally.
    “Yeah, you’re gonna have to sleep on th—“
    “I didn’t realize you had to go, too! I shoulda shut the door to muffle the sound just now, huh?”
    Vegeta twitched. How— How could he tell?! How could he ALWAYS tell?! Vegeta looked down at himself, he didn’t think he looked tense… Well, not any tenser than usual, anyway. “I— Kakarot, I’m referring to the BED.”
    Kakarot looked at it. “What about it?”
    “There’s only one,” Vegeta said.
    Kakarot shrugged, “Yeah, but it’s a big bed. We’ll both fit.”
    “That isn’t the point.”
    “… What IS the point, then?”
    “The point is that I don’t WANT to sleep with you.”
    “We’ve slept near each other before,” Kakarot said. “What’s the big deal?” He glanced at Vegeta again. “You need to use the restroom…”
    Why did he have to say that so loudly?! Or at all?! “Kakarot, shut up about that—“
    “Um…” Kakarot trailed off. “Hmm… So, what will work best for you here? I could go back downstairs for a bit, so you’ll have lots of privacy. Oh, and I’ll go to the buffet, so I won’t even be THINKING about what you’re doing in here.”
    Vegeta decided that probably WOULD be the easiest way to handle this. Sure, he could pee around Kakarot, but it was still easiest if he was by himself. He was going to be alone, so he wouldn’t NEED Kakarot to keep watch for him, or… Say anything. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t get banned from the buffet.”
    “No promises,” Kakarot said. “But, I’ll try.”
    That was probably the best Vegeta could ask for.
    Once Kakarot had left, Vegeta stepped into the restroom. He locked the door. He was surprised by the state of the toilet, Kakarot’s aim wasn’t AS bad as he’d thought it would be. He readied himself to go, and… Nothing.
    He didn’t get too worried, though. It ALWAYS took a couple minutes. He had expected this. What he hadn’t expected was to STILL be feeling all those unfamiliar chis inside the hotel, and for that to make him continually grow tense rather than start to loosen up.
    ‘Ignore them,’ he ordered himself. ‘They’re in different rooms. No one know that you’re… Trying to void.’ He shut his eyes, tried to block out the chis, reminding himself again and again that he was alone, behind a locked door. That, even if he could SENSE people, they still weren’t close enough to listen to his stream pour out.
    He felt a sharp throb right at his opening, and started to press into that since he knew it would bring him the relief he needed if he just pushed hard enough now. But, then he realized he could sort of HEAR people in the other rooms, too. And, the urgent pinch at his tip faded away, leaving nothing but a scorching, disappointing throb harshly careening through his bladder and down his length.
    ‘Dammit…’ Vegeta thought. ‘Come on, you are ALONE. You can DO this. You’re stronger than this! You’re too powerful to lose to your bladder!’ As he went through a mental list of all the things Kakarot tended to say to him during this moments, it began to dawn on him exactly WHY Bulma had wanted the two of them to share a room.
    Bulma had known that this was going to happen.
    Bulma had known that he was going to need Kakarot.
    That realization tightened his uncooperative holding muscles up more than anything. Bulma had just EXPECTED him to need help; Help with something that he should NEVER need help with! Help with something that he should have been able to manage just FINE on his own!
    And the worst part was that she was RIGHT.
    The shame that overtook him then was breathtaking. He was becoming so dependent on Kakarot for something so BASIC and necessary! This shouldn’t have been happening. He shouldn’t need Kakarot like this. He should have been fixing it himself.
    It was getting late. He was kind of hungry, but he didn’t want to join Kakarot in the buffet when his bladder was still aching so much. He allowed himself to hope Kakarot would just save him something, he was going to dedicate all of this alone time towards ridding himself of this awful pressure.
    First, he tried flicking on the sink, he tried listening to IT instead of the faint voices he could hear from the other rooms. His bladder swelled and convulsed, as if the water was battering right up against it, but it failed to release.
    Grumbling, he tore off one of his gloves, then turned on the hot tap. Once the water was warm enough, he shoved his palm beneath the faucet. His entire midsection felt like it was on fire, and he felt a dull ache begin to creep up his back, the prelude to the ultimate torture that his bladder could inflict on him. He tried not to think of the pain that was on the horizon if he didn’t get himself emptied soon.
    Maybe… Maybe MORE warm water would work. Another idea was forming. He didn’t like it. It was unsanitary, and he’d NEVER consider doing such a thing if he were at home, but here, in a hotel room… That shower had probably had LOTS of disgusting things take place within it.
    Ugh, was he seriously considering this? It was so dirty, and utterly desperate! But, Vegeta WAS desperate. His back was starting to hurt, and it was only a matter of time now before that pain increased to the scorching, agonizing acid burns that destroyed his ability to think and function. He NEEDED to get this pressure out.
    He went to get his pajamas, then removed his clothing. Once everything was off, he could see the gnarled bump of his full bladder. He gazed at it warily, moving his hands further away from his abdomen as he imagined what it would feel like to accidentally brush his knuckles against that. He was USED to his bladder swelling, it was a normal thing to see, but it always made him wince to be able to stare at the source of his agony.
    He turned the shower on, struggling to figure out how to get it to the right temperature, then stood beneath the spray. The hiss from the shower-head sounded a LOT like what Vegeta so desperately needed to do. It made him fidget a bit, rubbing his knees together anxiously and tensing his thighs. When he caught his hand moving to grasp hold of his dick, he stopped himself. The goal was to release everything right here, that was not going to happen if he squirmed and clutched at himself like he was trying to hold it back.
    The warm water striking him felt nice. It soothed some of the tension in his shoulders, and he hoped it would do the same for other places. He shut his eyes and did his best to focus just on the sound of running water, the feeling of it warmly gliding down his back. He pleaded for it to lull his body into a state in which it could let go. ‘Come on… Come on…’
    ‘Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!’
    Wh—What?! What the Hell?! He recognized Frieza’s voice, the disgust and scorn in it, but had trouble placing the exact time he’d heard this statement being snapped at him. He knew it had to be a memory, it sounded too real to just be something he was making up.
    He didn’t know WHY he was being hit by a memory of Frieza scolding him now, when all he wanted to do was relieve his overflowing bladder in the privacy of the shower, but—
    Something was coming back. He was six, maybe seven. His planet was gone. He was on Frieza’s ship and he had to GO. But, he didn’t dare ask Frieza for permission to do so. He couldn’t! Raditz was there too. Vegeta had to appear strong and infallible in front of the other remaining Saiyans. He was not allowed to show that he had any needs.
    But, he needed to go so bad. It was hurting. Frieza was yelling, at him and at Raditz. Frieza was mad because they’d gotten so filthy during their last mission, and then they’d gotten mud inside the ship. Frieza was shouting that they needed to get washed, and sent them to the showers. Frieza stayed to monitor them, even though Vegeta really didn’t want Frieza to watch.
    Vegeta kept his back to Frieza the whole time and tried to wash himself off as fast as possible. He was so uncomfortable. Knowing Frieza could see him made him feel gross. He was used to showering with Raditz and he didn’t mind doing it. He minded Frieza being there. The running water from the shower-heads was making him need to go even more. He kept looking at the drain and wondering if he could let himself pee here. If it would mix with the other water so no one even noticed.
    Suddenly, Frieza growled “Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!” And Vegeta looked down in a panic, worried that he’d started to go without meaning to, but he hadn’t.
    “How dare you do THAT in my showers?” Frieza snapped. Vegeta heard him stomping forwards, but he was going over to Raditz. “That is DISGUSTING, you learn to hold your water, you filthy brat!” Then, Vegeta could hear Raditz crying as he was beaten. Vegeta hurried to finish washing the last of the soap off, then frantically put his clothes on before bolting from the bathing room. Like a coward. A coward that couldn’t protect one of the only other survivors from his planet.
    Now, Vegeta shook his head, trying to rid himself of that memory. Recalling ANYTHING about Frieza right now would not help him reach his goal. Recalling a time when he was so weak that he couldn’t even TRY to defend his fellow Saiyans was not going to help him. Recalling the sound of Raditz being beaten for peeing in a shower was not going to help him.
    Vegeta tried for a few more minutes to both release his bladder and erase that memory from his mind. He wished that he could understand why things from so long ago still hurt him— Why they sometimes seemed to hurt him worse NOW than they had in the moment. It made no sense, and it made him feel pathetic. Like, even though Frieza was dead, Vegeta STILL didn’t have the strength to defeat him. He was losing a battle against a corpse and, since his bladder still REFUSED to empty, he was once again losing a battle against himself.
    Vegeta gave up eventually, got out of the shower, put on his clothes and just forced himself to climb into bed. He was overwhelmed by how badly he had to urinate now. His bladder was SEARING, and no matter which way he turned, the pressure was severe. If he laid on his back, he felt his skin stretch over that angry, urgent bump of need. If he laid on his sides, he felt the liquid inside of him sloshing and battering against his bladder’s over-stretched walls. If he laid on his stomach, all of his weight pushed down on his lower abdomen and he was in so much pain that tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
    Since his solitude hadn’t granted him the relief he wanted, he decided to at least take advantage of it in order to squirm. He flailed around in the bed, crossing his legs like crazy and clutching at his crotch for dear life. All the contorting and twisting helped ease the pressure a little, but it was nothing compared to what he actually needed.
    Kakarot returned eventually, and Vegeta quickly covered himself up with the bedsheets since holding still was an impossibility. “The buffet was really good,” he informed with a smile. “I brought you some food, in case you’re hungry.”
    Vegeta had to pee so bad that he felt nauseas. He couldn’t eat a thing right now.
    Kakarot looked at him. “Feeling sleepy, huh?” He said. “Yeah, I’m tired too… Are you gonna make me sleep on the floor like last time?”
    Vegeta was too uncomfortable to argue. “No. Just… Stay on YOUR side of the bed, alright? Don’t touch me, don’t get too close.”
    “Okay, sure,” Kakarot said, heading towards the restroom.
    ‘Kakarot, I couldn’t go!’ The words were right on the tip of Vegeta’s tongue, but that was where they stayed. He just couldn’t get them any further. The shame held them back. Moments later, Kakarot was in the shower, and Vegeta was holding his pillow over his ears to block out the awful sound.
    Vegeta tried to fall asleep. He’d gone to sleep with his bladder already full plenty of times before, but it had been quite a while since he’d last needed to do that. At home, he could ALWAYS go before bed. Ohhh, he wanted to be at home. If he was at home, he would have peed ages ago. He wouldn’t have remembered anything about Frieza. He’d be comfortable, not about to explode, not coated in shame and embarrassment.
    The shower switched off, and Kakarot got into bed. He was staying on his own side, just like Vegeta wanted, but now he wished Kakarot would get a little closer, close enough to notice how uncomfortable Vegeta was without Vegeta needing to say or do anything.
    “G’night,” Kakarot said.
    “Stay on your side,” Vegeta responded.
    Somehow, Vegeta eventually managed to fall asleep.
    ***
    Vegeta woke up on a cot, inside a cell, somewhere in the lower decks of Frieza’s ship.
    “What… the… Hell…” he mumbled as he sat up. His bladder gave a painful nudge, telling him that he had to empty it right away. His back ached as well, punctuating the urgency of his need. He ignored that for the moment. “Why am I—“ He stopped, concentrated.
    He couldn’t sense Frieza, the Ginyus, Zarbon or anyone else who would be aboard this ship.
    He DID, however, sense Kakarot.
    Okay. This was a dream, then.
    This was not the kind of place he wanted to visit in a dream, though. He’d been locked inside cells like this one plenty of times, especially towards the end of his stint with Frieza when he’d just gotten so fed up with everything that he’d started talking back even more than usual. The cells were miserable places. The only thing inside was the cot and a toilet— A toilet which Vegeta always refused to use until all the lights had been shut off in the ship for the night.
    In the early days, Frieza’s prisoners were usually able to get OUT of the cells pretty easily. Vegeta had been strong enough to bend metal bars since the age of two. But, that had just required Frieza to get creative, in lieu of bars, the cells were now equipped with a force-field, and prisoners were outfitted with special collars of Frieza’s own creation— Collars which blocked the wearer from their own chi.
    Whenever Vegeta was placed in a cell, he was completely powerless in every sense of the word. With Vegeta’s chi control removed, his ability to even ATTEMPT fighting back or defending himself taken away, Frieza would enter his cell and… ‘Torture’ was the only word to describe what he inflicted onto Vegeta then.
    What came afterwards, when Frieza was finally finished with him, was always confusing. Once Frieza had stopped hurting Vegeta, once he’d stopped berating him, clawing him, tearing him up and unleashing Hell upon him in the form of relentless chi blasts, Frieza would begin to act very strangely.
    With Vegeta laying there, his power stolen, his body in agony, Frieza would start to smile. And not his usual, scornful smirk, either. The smile always looked genuine. He would stroke Vegeta’s hair gently and tell him how proud he was that he’d managed to endure all of that pain so well. “You know I don’t ENJOY needing to punish you, Prince…” Frieza always said. “You are the best fighter in my entire army— You’re my favorite, remember that. My favorite… Please don’t make me have to bring you in here again. This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
    And Vegeta would be confused, but praise from Frieza was so rare, and he would be in so much pain, so desperate for anything that would make him feel less worthless and broken… He’d allow Frieza to continue petting his hair and praising him. It felt good, and that was what hurt most of all.
    Sometimes, when Frieza released Vegeta from the cell, he’d present him with some kind of gift. A new style of armor no one else had access to yet, a type of food he really enjoyed, a chance to lead during an upcoming mission… And it would still be confusing, but Vegeta couldn’t turn any of it down— Especially not food.
    Vegeta didn’t like to remember this cell. Why had his brain decided to take him to it in his dreams?
    The things that happened in here were sick beyond all measure. Pain, agony, Frieza’s claws all over him. Vegeta had nearly died in this place more times than he could count. It was one of the few places he’d ever shed tears.
    Vegeta couldn’t even remember everything that was done to him in here. Some incidents came to him with perfect clarity, others were foggy and blurred. Others still were just… Not there; He could recall specific things he had been placed in the cell for, could remember Frieza arriving, but then it was like he skipped ahead in time to the moment he was finally let out, only aware that SOMETHING had happened because he could still remember how much pain he’d been in.
    The first time he’d been here, he thought he had been six. He’d mouthed off to Frieza one too many times, demanding that he be given more challenging planets to conquer, insisting he didn’t need help from low-level scum like Raditz or a glorified babysitter like Nappa. He boasted that he could handle missions all by himself. When Frieza scoffed and sneered in response, Vegeta snapped that one day he was going to be stronger than Frieza and all his top soldiers combined.
    So, Frieza had put him in the cell.
    Frieza had returned around one hour later and hissed “It’s time you learn your place, you wretched monkey runt… You are nothing. I am your owner. And you shall remain my property until I see fit to dispose of you.”
    Vegeta had never been able to remember what exactly happened after that. Just that every part of his body was utterly useless afterwards, all of it only capable of sending him endless volts of pain. There was not one piece of him that didn’t feel broken and shattered, not one area that wasn’t flooded with torment.
    He remembered that, along with the feeling of Frieza’s claws combing his hair, petting it like he would an animal as Vegeta laid blearily on his lap. “You did it, Prince Vegeta… You made it through. I’m so proud of you, you took your punishment so well. So tough for such a little warrior. I know, that was so awful, wasn’t it? I wish I hadn’t needed to do that. If you can be a good, obedient Saiyan for me, it won’t have to happen again… I don’t like seeing you suffer so much."
    Now, Vegeta’s heart-rate was skyrocketing just from being back here again, his awareness that it was only a dream did absolutely nothing to soothe him.
    ‘You’re sleeping, you’re sleeping, you’re sleeping,’ Vegeta reminded himself. ‘You can sense Kakarot. You know you’re not really here.’ But, everything looked real. It looked exactly how he remembered it. Even the blood stains on the cot were the same.
    His bladder pulsed again. He wanted to wake up and go empty it. He wanted to wake up and… And just not be HERE anymore. He tried to summon his chi and allow it to build inside of himself, which usually caused him to wake up. Not this time, though. He couldn’t feel his own chi, as if the collar was actually working. As if all of this was real.
    ‘Kakarot is near you!’ Vegeta thought desperately. ‘And Kakarot was never HERE, that means it’s not real.’ He pinched his thigh, he needed to wake up. He couldn’t be here anymore. His urge to pee was worsening, but that paled in comparison to how badly he just did NOT want to be in this room. ‘Wake up, wake up!’
    He didn’t wake up.
    Vegeta tried to focus really, REALLY hard on his need for the restroom, hoping that IT would prompt his body into wakefulness. He zeroed in on the discomfort straining inside his lower abdomen, the constant thrumming buzz of his building desperation. He even tried to ‘exaggerate’ how bad it was, telling himself that he was about to burst and couldn’t hold it another second, in a vain attempt to get himself to open his eyes. ‘Wake up! Wake up, or you’ll wet the bed!’
    If his bladder didn’t wake him up, then what would? His pulse was already racing with fear as he had a bad feeling he knew what this dream was about to force him to relive.
    Frieza appeared on the other side of the forcefield. He punched in a code and entered the cell. “Well, Prince Vegeta, how have you been enjoying your confinement?”
    Vegeta said nothing and pleaded with himself to wake up. He didn’t bother trying to take ‘control’ of this dream and blast Frieza to death, he already knew that it wouldn’t work. He didn’t have any control here, he was going to be put through everything again. It was going to happen again.
    “Answer me, monkey!” Frieza snapped when Vegeta stayed quiet for too long.
    “I—It’s… Fine…” Vegeta said. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to Frieza in real-life when he’d been in here. All he could remember was how loud he had screamed, how his vocal cords had fried, how his ears had rung, how his shrieks of pain had made his body hurt even worse but he’d been completely incapable of holding them in.
    “Just fine?” Frieza asked, putting a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “You insult me, Prince. I went to all this trouble making these lovely accommodations just for you, I even got you that nice collar.”
    Vegeta felt the collar, it was choking him. It felt so real.
    ‘Kakarot…’ Vegeta told himself. ‘Focus on Kakarot. He’s right there.’ He hated himself for all the reminders, for the way that Kakarot’s presence was the only thing making him feel okay as he was overcome with terror from a stupid nightmare.
    “Oh, Vegeta, is that making it hard for you to breathe?” Frieza’s tail flicked. “How about I help you with that?”
    Before Vegeta could react, Frieza’s tail had lashed out and wound itself around his throat. “Gih—Guh—!”
    ’This is a dream,’ Vegeta thought again and again and again. But, all the reassurances in the world couldn’t make the pain fade. He could feel himself losing oxygen, could feel the bones in his neck starting to break as Frieza’s tail squeezed against them. Frieza kept tightening the grip until those bones were just about to snap apart, and then he eased up. He just wouldn’t stop…
    “I am not going to make this fast for you,” Frieza warned. “I’ve had enough of your defying me. You will pay the price.”
    Vegeta’s need to pee was getting worse, too. He tried to focus on that pain, because he knew IT was real. He knew IT posed a real danger. The sensations of Frieza trying to break his neck were all fake, he wasn’t ACTUALLY about to suffocate. But, the pressure in his bladder DID exist, and if he didn’t keep control over it, he’d burst and pee the bed— Which would be beyond terrible since he could still sense Kakarot near him.
    ‘Kakarot… Kakarot…’ Vegeta chanted to himself in his mind. ‘He’s there. You’re okay. This is fake.’
    Frieza’s tail finally released Vegeta’s neck, and Vegeta crumpled onto the floor. His bladder seared more, pain flaring in his tip and he gripped his hands against the ground to avoid holding himself. He didn’t know why he was bothering, why the idea of holding himself in front of Frieza was still so shameful when he knew this was all imaginary.
    “Now,” Frieza said. “Are you ready to be polite?”
    Vegeta nodded. The room was spinning and he felt light-headed. He hoped against hope that that was a sign he was starting to wake up, but no such luck.
    “There’s a good monkey…” Frieza smirked. “Now, let’s see YOUR tail, shall we?”
    Frieza grabbed Vegeta’s tail and, preposterously, Vegeta felt the pressure. This made even less sense than the choking had! He didn’t even HAVE a tail anymore in the real-world! How could he still feel—
    Vegeta screamed at the top of his voice when, a moment later, he felt something sharp dig itself against the tip of his tail, felt it penetrate through the skin, through the muscle and sinew, felt it scrape against the bone. His eyes rolled back in his head as one of the worst pains he’d ever felt drove him to the brink of insanity. ‘Not real, not real!’ He kept shouting at himself. ‘Why the Hell do I still FEEL it?!”
    Frieza shoved him forwards, releasing his tail. Vegeta turned back around just in time to see Frieza lick the blood he’d drawn out of his tail off of his extremely long, pointy finger nail. “Well, that was amusing! I could cause you THAT much pain just with one nail? You really ARE pathetic, you know that, monkey?”
    Vegeta’s eyes were tearing up, and his legs were shaking. His tail hung limply, still bleeding. ‘Not real! Focus on what’s real!’ That was, perhaps, a bad decision, because when he again concentrated on his bladder, the one thing he knew was ACTUALLY causing him distress, the pins and needles inside of it caught fire, and the pressure at the base of his cock flared to life. “Ah—“ He crossed his legs, unsure of if his body was REALLY squirming in the waking world or not. He didn’t think so, because the action didn’t ease the pain in his bladder at all, nor did the jiggling and foot tapping that followed.
    Frieza grinned wider at him, “Oh, does the little Prince need to go pee?”
    ‘Dream!’ Vegeta screamed inside his mind. ‘Just— Just—‘ “Shut up!” He barked at Frieza, and his blood ran cold.
    “Did you just tell me to shut up?” Frieza asked.
    Vegeta didn’t respond, he just kept shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or desperation that was responsible. He HOPED it was just desperation, still mentally scolding himself for getting so damned scared when he KNEW none of this was actually happening.
    “Nnnh…” Vegeta tangled his legs up even tighter. ‘Come on, wake up! You have to use the bathroom!’ His bladder screeched and its walls strained, trying to pump something out. Nothing happened, of course. Not with Frieza WATCHING him.
    ‘He’s NOT watching you!’
    “Ohhh, poor little monkey,” Frieza said. “He needs to go so, SO bad, doesn’t he?” He reached out a hand and cupped it over Vegeta’s bladder, which was swollen and tender to the touch. “Look at this, you’re starting to look a little round at the edges now…” Frieza gave Vegeta’s bladder a squeeze, as if it were a ripe orange.
    The pain of THAT felt even more real than any of the other imagined torments his dream had subjected him to. Immediately, an explosion of agony rippled through his bladder, referring up around his rib cage and crashing down against his opening. Tears started to fall and he moaned as heat built up in his length, and for a second he thought he was going to leak, but the feeling disappeared back into the throbbing, awful, urgent pulsing of his bladder yet again.
    “This is quite amusing, Vegeta…” Frieza said. “I may not even have to use any of my powers on you today. I can punish you fine with just my bare hands.” He mashed his hand against Vegeta’s bladder twice more, each time eliciting grunts and groans of displeasure as Vegeta’s body fought a war with itself. Then, Frieza shoved him to the floor. Vegeta quickly rolled onto his side, curling over on himself in an effort to shield his bladder from the onslaught, but Frieza forced him back around. “LOOK at me when I’m punishing you, Vegeta! I didn’t tell you you could turn away!”
    “I—“
    “This calls for more discipline!” Frieza declared, lifting a leg and stomping down on Vegeta’s lower stomach, pressing his full weight atop Vegeta’s bladder. Vegeta’s body reacted with a surge of screaming agony, his aching sphincters lit ablaze against the grotesque pressure. His back flared and nausea burned a line up his throat. ‘Ahhh… Stop, Frieza!’ Vegeta thought. ‘Please, please! Just stop! I’m gonna be sick! I’m gonna— Not real, not real, not real!’
    He was able to feel Kakarot’s chi more clearly now, and that— That was GOOD. He could sense Kakarot, which made him constantly aware that this was just a dream. He could sense Kakarot, so the real Frieza was dead. He could sense Kakarot, so none of this was happening. None of the pain was real, none of the shame, none of the humiliation.
    “BEG me,” Frieza commanded. “BEG me, and perhaps I will be merciful!”
    “Never!” Vegeta shouted. “Not even in a dream!”
    “Then I’m going to have to make you explode…” Frieza said, stomping once more on Vegeta’s bladder, causing the pain in Vegeta’s back to ignite with a new fury. “BEG ME!” Frieza ordered. “Beg me to let you piss, beg me like the pathetic creature you are!”
    “NO!”
    More stomping, more pain.
    ‘Not real, not real, not real—‘
    “Pl—Please!” Vegeta cried out, and it was like the nightmare had taken complete control over him, too, forcing him to act in a way he never would, forcing him to endure the pitiful sound of his own voice, of the words he couldn’t hold back. “Please! Please, just let me relieve myself! Please, I’m begging you!”
    He couldn’t make the words stop coming, and his horror increased as more of them spilled forth. This was even more terrifying than any of the OTHER things his nightmare had been subjecting him to. At least, with the memories of physical torture, there had been a tiny part of him that could be proud for his ability to endure… There was nothing to take pride in here.
    “Please, please! I have to— I need to relieve myself! Please, let me go!”
    “Beg MORE,” Frieza barked.
    “Please, I’ll do anything!” Vegeta could do nothing to keep himself quiet, his dream-self wouldn’t obey him, his dream-self wanted him to be humiliated and ashamed. “Please! I need to go! It hurts!”
    Something shifted and Vegeta could feel Kakarot more strongly than ever, that was good! He wanted to keep feeling Kakarot! He needed Kakarot!
    ***
    Goku woke up, and all his grogginess faded in an instant when he registered how badly he needed to pee. His bladder was exploding, and it felt like it was caught in some kinda—
    Hang on, what?!
    Even after all of those ‘STAY ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED!’ demands, Vegeta was pressed RIGHT up against Goku. More than that, he had his arms wrapped around Goku’s waist as tightly as he did sometimes when they fought! His legs were coiled around Goku’s as well. Vegeta was literally CLINGING to him, like he’d die if he let go, like he couldn’t get close enough to him.
    And, that would have been fine normally! Goku liked being hugged when he was sleepy. And Vegeta was giving him a really tight, cozy hug right now.
    There were just a few problems with that. First, Vegeta was the least snuggly person in the universe, so Goku was really confused by this turn of events. It was pretty warm in the room, so he doubted Vegeta was just seeking extra heat. If Vegeta woke up and discovered himself in this position, Goku knew he was going to be yelled at— It wouldn’t matter that Vegeta had been the one doing all the cuddling, he’d come up with some reasoning for why it was Goku’s fault.
    Second, Goku needed to use the bathroom SO bad! And, Vegeta was, indeed, latched onto him with the same amount of force he employed during battles. Whenever he gripped him this way in a fight, Vegeta always managed to get quite a few decent hits in before Goku broke free. And, in order to actually GET free, Goku would have to power up and basically LAUNCH Vegeta off of himself.
    Vegeta would not be pleased to be woken up that way. And Goku would be in a lot of trouble if he destroyed one of the walls here by slamming Vegeta through it.
    But, just wriggling out of Vegeta’s grasp didn’t tend to work. Vegeta reacted too fast, adjusting his hold in whatever way was necessary to keep Goku in place.
    Maybe he wouldn’t be able to do that in his sleep, though.
    Goku tried to squirm free, hoping that since Vegeta wasn’t alert, he wouldn’t respond to anything Goku did.
    Nope. Just as Goku started to ease his way out of Vegeta’s grasp, Vegeta tugged him back, hanging on even tighter. What’s worse, he’d changed the position of his arms slightly— Just enough so that he was now squeezing Goku’s bladder far worse than he had been before.
    “Ah—Nnnh…” Goku gritted his teeth, squirming his legs and turning around as much as he was able to. If he couldn’t get Vegeta to let go, he at least wanted those strong arms away from his bladder!
    He managed to get into a position that didn’t hurt AS much, but the waters inside of him refused to calm down. He had to pee, and he had to do it NOW. He thought that if he just got Vegeta’s legs untangled from his own, he’d be able to stand up and walk with Vegeta still clinging to him like this. His bladder would make that difficult, but not impossible.
    He tried shoving Vegeta’s legs aside, but that only prompted Vegeta to wrap their limbs tighter together. Everything Goku did only made Vegeta hold onto him even more firmly!
    “Vegetaaaa,” Goku whined. “Let go!”
    Vegeta nuzzled his face into Goku’s side, but other than that he didn’t move.
    This was so weird! Was Vegeta’s sleeping brain mistaking Goku for Bulma? Goku had a hard time picturing Vegeta even snuggling Bulma like this!
    “Vegeta,” Goku said once more. “I promise I won’t tell anybody that you hugged me all night, but ONLY if you let me get up right now!” He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about Vegeta’s strange clinging anyway, but he needed to get through to him somehow.
    What had gotten into him? WAS he too cold in here? Goku reached and tried to pull the blanket up around Vegeta a bit more to see if that did anything, but again Vegeta pulled Goku closer and now his fingers were kneading into his bladder!
    “Ouch!” Goku exclaimed as a bright hot bolt of urgency shot down his length. He felt a scorching pressure at his opening, which was immediately followed by a short dribble of pee. “Vegeta, stop it! You’re gonna make me pee the bed!” He paused then, hoping the threat would reach Vegeta’s consciousness somehow, added “I’ll pee the bed, and it’ll get on BOTH of us, so it’ll look like YOU did it too!”
    Vegeta remained glued to him.
    “Hnnng, come ON,” Goku cried, wondering how his loud voice alone hadn’t been enough to wake Vegeta up. What the Hell was he dreaming about? Goku didn’t think he was dreaming of a fight— If he was, he would have been flailing, instead of refusing to BUDGE. When Vegeta turned his head slightly, Goku was able to see his expression.
    His brows were furrowed like they did whenever he was angry. He was sweating, clammy, and a moment later he made a strange, distressed noise, and he shook against Goku.
    “… Are you having a nightmare?” Goku asked, softer now. “Is that it? Is… Is hugging me making you feel safe?” It was a strange thing to consider, Vegeta being frightened to the point that he was clinging to Goku for comfort. But, Goku didn’t think the idea was too far-fetched, either.
    Goku remembered the time he and Vegeta had been trapped inside of Buu’s body. They’d encountered a group of worms, and Vegeta had been REALLY freaked out. So much so that he’d stayed behind Goku, using his rival as some kind of ‘shield’ between himself and the worms. He’d even held onto Goku’s shoulders a couple of times, so tightly that they'd ached.
    And Goku had just LET him do all that. He hadn’t given Vegeta a hard time about it, either. Instead he’d just carried on as if it wasn’t even happening, giving NO acknowledgement to Vegeta’s fear. If letting Vegeta hide behind him and cling onto him made him feel better, then Goku didn’t mind. He’d understood that was what Vegeta needed. He’d understood that, if Vegeta was ALLOWING himself to behave in such a way, he must have been extremely scared, and denying him comfort, or teasing him for it even a little, would have been cruel.
    Vegeta seemed to be having an atrocious nightmare, he was scared and he needed comfort. And… If clinging to Goku GAVE him that comfort, then Goku supposed he could let it happen. Even if he did really, REALLY need to pee…
    “It’s okay, Vegeta,” Goku said, trying to ignore the sharp, brutal throbs in his bladder. “I… Mmmf… I can hold it a little longer.” Still, he made one more attempt to wake Vegeta up, giving him a gentle nudge. “You’re just having a bad dream, open your eyes and it’ll be over.”
    Vegeta’s nightmare was too strong, though. He didn’t wake up, and Goku felt bad. He didn’t know what Vegeta’s brain was choosing to torment him with tonight, but if it was making Vegeta THIS scared, it must have been awful.
    Goku kept watching him for a few seconds. Then, anxiously, he put a hand onto Vegeta’s shoulder and rubbed it. Vegeta would KILL him if he saw that, but it just felt like the right thing to do now. As did his next words, “Whatever’s scaring you, I’m sure you’re strong enough to beat it.” He squirmed as much as he could with Vegeta wrapped around him. His lower stomach actually hurt from how desperately he had to pee. He was even feeling a little nauseated by the continued pressure. But, he thought Vegeta needed him right now more than HE needed a bathroom.
    He smoothed his hand down Vegeta’s side, again all-too-aware of how furious his friend would be for such an action. “It’s alright, Vegeta. It’s just a dream,” he said. He tensed his thighs up against another awful jolt from within. He wasn’t fast enough, and a quick jet of liquid hissed between his legs. “It’s… Mmmf…” Goku winced, feeling sweat pouring down his face. “It’s gonna be okay. Everybody has nightmares sometimes. You can defeat this one.”
    Vegeta’s eyes finally opened and, when they did, they blew wide. Goku expected him to start shouting at him. ‘WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME, KAKAROT?! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT STAYING ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED?!’ He expected Vegeta to pull away from him as if he were the most disgusting thing in the universe. He expected Vegeta to threaten him to NEVER speak of this accidental snuggling again.
    But, none of that happened.
    What happened instead utterly confused Goku. Vegeta released him, and shook like he was in an earthquake. His arms spasmed uncontrollably as he wrapped them around himself, his chest was heaving, and a strange noise came out of his mouth. He was breathing, but it sounded all wrong. Rapid-fire inhales and exhales, and it was like he still wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs, because his breathing speed continued to increase, becoming more and more desperate.
    His chi was going totally ballistic, too. Rising and falling in rapid waves, flaring out of control.
    Goku was usually so GOOD at reading body-language, especially Vegeta’s. He was good at predicting what a person would do next based on how they were moving now. But this time he just didn’t understand, he had no idea what Vegeta was doing, or what he was going to do. He knew Vegeta was really scared, however this seemed like something MORE than that.
    “Vegeta?!” Goku asked, startled. “What’s happening?! Are you okay?!”
    “K—Kakar— Kakar—“ Vegeta struggled, then seemed to just give up, he continued to hug himself, continued to fight for air, and Goku didn’t understand!
    Goku tried rubbing his back, because he didn’t know what to do, and he remembered that sometimes Chi-Chi rubbed HIS back when he had to get a shot and it made him feel better. He had no idea what to say. Everything about this was so confusing to him, he thought Vegeta probably needed Bulma right now, but Bulma wasn’t HERE, and Goku wasn’t sure how to fix this— He didn’t even know what was WRONG with Vegeta!
    Feeling Vegeta’s chi continuing to spike and flare, Goku concentrated harder and tried to transfer some of his OWN energy into his friend. He tried to put every bit of relaxation and calm into it that he could. This required him to un-focus completely from his bladder and he started to leak slowly, but he ignored that.
    He just kept rubbing Vegeta’s back, and when Vegeta’s chi started to calm down and his breathing began to slow, Goku hoped that meant he was doing something right. What was happening? Goku had never done THAT after a nightmare before.
    But, Vegeta had sure had a lot of really scary things happen to him before. Maybe that meant his nightmares were scarier than Goku’s? “V— Vegeta…?” He began, hesitant.
    Vegeta’s breathing and energy had both stabilized, and now he was just sitting there, his face pale save for splotches of red. His eyes squeezed closed. He still had his arms around himself, his legs were fidgeting.
    Goku’s bladder throbbed again, and he felt a trickle escape. He pushed a hand against his crotch to clamp off the flow. It hurt. He just wanted to keep peeing… Vegeta had let go of him, and Vegeta was breathing properly again. Goku could just get up and relieve himself now. But, he STILL didn’t feel right leaving Vegeta alone right now.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta managed to say. “Do NOT tell anyone about… That…”
    “I won’t,” Goku promised, adjusting his position slightly so he could look directly into Vegeta’s eyes. His bladder sloshed, protesting even that tiny motion, and he needed to tighten his grip on himself to avoid another spill. “I promise. I mean, I don’t know WHAT just happened, so how would I even tell anybody?”
    “…Good,” Vegeta said after a moment.
    “What… What was that, though?” Goku asked. “I can tell you were having a nightmare, ‘cause of how you were holding onto me, and—“
    Vegeta scowled and turned himself further away. “A nightmare, Kakarot?! Do you think I’m a child?”
    “No,” Goku said. “But, everybody has bad dreams, and I started thinking about all the stuff you’ve been through, so I was wondering if you were, like, remembering something bad, and that’s why you were so… Upset?” He made sure to avoid using the word ‘afraid’. Vegeta was already in the process of shutting down and closing Goku out, acknowledging that his friend had been feeling terrified would cause the conversation to end completely.
    “It was just a dream,” Vegeta said firmly, shifting around with discomfort. His shoulders shook. “I’m fine.”
    “But… What HAPPENED in the dream?”
    “That doesn’t matter.”
    “Vegeta…” Goku said. Internally, he was scolding himself. Vegeta didn’t WANT to discuss this, and Goku DID want to get out of bed and pee! If he dropped the subject, then they’d BOTH get what they desired— But only ONE of them would get what they actually needed.
    Goku needed to pee, but Vegeta needed to talk. If they didn’t do that now, then it would NEVER get done.
    “You can tell me,” Goku said. “No matter what it is, I won’t… Tease you, or whatever you’re so worried about. I swear.”
    “On Frieza’s ship, there were a few cells. I’d be sent to one whenever I managed to piss off Frieza badly enough. He’d make me wear a collar that prevented me from controlling my chi, so that I had no way to fight back, and then he’d come in and punish me. I was dreaming about that, but it was JUST a dream, so it’s no big deal. Stop worrying about it.”
    Goku’s eyes widened. He could only imagine what Frieza did to ‘punish’ someone, especially after he’d completely removed their ability to defend themselves. He didn’t even WANT to picture it. Just the idea of having his strength and powers cut off from him was frightening— But to then have someone as ruthless as Frieza come around and ‘punish’ him, too…
    Goku didn’t press Vegeta for details. He understood enough now, Vegeta’s nightmare had been a memory of himself being tortured. His clinging and hyperventilating made perfect sense. “… Do you need Bulma?” He asked. “Do you need to talk t—“
    “No,” Vegeta interrupted. “Don’t disturb her rehearsing over this nonsense.”
    “I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Goku said. “Sounds like you got hurt super bad…”
    Vegeta tensed up again and grit his teeth. “If… If he hadn’t stuck that damned collar on me, I could have—“
    “You could have,” Goku agreed. “That’s WHY he made you wear the collar, he didn’t want you to have a chance.”
    Vegeta continued to shift around, looking more uncomfortable. Goku frowned, he was trying his best to make him feel better, but he was just getting more fidgety and upset.
    “And, yeah, like you said— It was just a dream. Frieza’s dead now, he’ll never do anything like that again to anyo—“
    “K—Kakarot!” Vegeta interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut again and shakily getting out of bed. There were tremors running all through his legs, he let go of his chest and let his hands fall down by his sides, clenching them into fists. “You— I— I must… Attend to something else right now!”
    “Vegeta,” Goku started to say. Vegeta was trembling so much, clearly still on-edge from his nightmare. “Come on, I wanna help y—“
    “I—In a minute!” Vegeta insisted, starting to step away. He was still shaking so ba—
    Oh.
    Goku felt silly for not realizing this sooner, considering his OWN continued desperation, but now it was plainly obvious. Vegeta’s shudders weren’t from fear anymore— Or at least, not TOTALLY. Vegeta ALSO needed to pee badly.
    … Which meant Goku was gonna have to wait out here while Vegeta used the restroom. He was going to have to wait here, and possibly ‘encourage’ Vegeta to let it out as he so often did. He was going to have to wait until Vegeta managed to START peeing, and then for the SEVERAL minutes it always took him to finish. He was going to have to listen to his stream spraying out for ages, and just sit there in the bed and endure it. He was going to have to contain his already bursting bladder while Vegeta did what he was DYING to do.
    Goku didn’t think he could hold it through all of that. He’d burst, he’d pee uncontrollably all over himself and the bed. He’d be soaked, Vegeta would come back, see what he’d done, and be equal parts mortified and furious. He was sure Vegeta would be more humiliated by Goku’s accident than he himself was! Vegeta would be beyond embarrassed when he realized that the hiss of his own stream had been the thing to send Goku over the edge.
    “H—Hang on, Vegeta!” Goku blurted out. He NEEDED to go first! As much as he didn’t want to prolong Vegeta’s suffering, it was WAY less likely that his friend would wet himself while waiting. Plus, Goku would be finished far, FAR faster than Vegeta. It just made sense for Goku to pee first! “I gotta go, too!”
    Vegeta froze, and Goku could tell he was blushing. Goku knew how he was going to react. He felt guilty, but he was COUNTING on it; Vegeta’s pride would INSIST he let Goku pee first, just to prove once again that HIS bladder was superior. In Vegeta’s mind, demanding that he take the first turn would be an admission of defeat, a sign of weakness. Those were unhealthy modes of thinking, things Goku had been trying to get Vegeta PAST, but right now, he NEEDED Vegeta to keep feeling that way.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta said, his voice much softer than usual. “I… Um… H—Haven’t gone at all since we got here…”
    What?! But— No! He wasn’t supposed to argue! He wasn’t supposed to— He should have been saying “Of COURSE you do, Kakarot! Your bladder is so tiny! You go first, I wouldn’t want you to piss everywhere and disgrace the legacy of every Saiyan who’s ever lived!”
    And… He hadn’t gone at all since they’d gotten there?! “But, I thought you went earlier! When I was—“
    “I— Shut up!” Vegeta huffed, turning away again.
    Oh, crap… Goku quickly readjusted to this new information, and it was easy to figure out what had happened. Vegeta HADN’T been able to go while he was downstairs. Then, when Goku got back up here, he’d been too embarrassed to admit it, to accept that the reasoning behind their ‘sleeping arrangement’ tonight had been sound, and that he did, in fact, need Goku’s help.
    So, he’d gone to bed with his bladder still full, and Goku had been too sleepy to realize it. The passage of time and the fear his nightmare had provoked had most likely worsened his need to a painful degree. So painful that, in a vague way, he was confessing that he didn’t think he could wait for Goku to pee first.
    But, Goku couldn’t wait for Vegeta, either! Vegeta always gushed like a broken fire hydrant for five minutes! No way could Goku hold it through that!
    An idea popped into Goku’s head, but it wasn’t one Vegeta was gonna like…
    “How about we go together?!” Goku asked.
    Vegeta went still again, save for the tremors of desperation that he was unable to restrain. “… What,” he asked, voice flat.
    “Er… You know, we stand next to each other and we both—“
    “Are you kidding me, Kakarot?! Hell no!”
    “Come oooon, Vegeta!” Goku whined. He scrambled to his feet, and immediately started to jiggle in place. “I really have to—“
    “No, Kakarot! Just be patient!”
    “But—“
    “No!”
    Goku chewed on his lower lip. His forehead was so sweaty. He felt like he’d waited a life-time already, and the additional time it would take for Vegeta to pee would be the death of him! Worst of all, he understood Vegeta’s refusal. He accepted it, he KNEW Vegeta just wasn’t gonna be COMFORTABLE doing this with him. But, still! He NEEDED Vegeta to do this with him! It was the only option left!
    “But, but— I’m gonna be out here waiting for you, and you’re gonna KNOW I’m waiting for you, so it’s gonna take you even longer to relax than usual, and it’s gonna be so hard for me to help you!”
    Vegeta turned back to stare at Kakarot. The glare in his eyes was one of the sharpest Goku had ever seen from him— And that was saying something. “Thanks, Kakarot! I wasn’t even THINKING about that until YOU brought it up!”
    Goku frowned, he wriggled his feet against the floor. “I’m sorry…”
    “Fine! You go first!” Vegeta snapped, and the way his knees buckled and rubbed together made it stunningly obvious how much he DIDN’T want to continue waiting.
    “But, you’re in pain, you’ve been holding it too long—“
    “Then, hurry up and—“
    “Let’s— Let’s just do it together,” Goku suggested again. “Or at least try to? ‘Cause, that way, if it gets really bad for you, you’ll be in the right spot?”
    Goku basically telling him that it was OKAY if he couldn’t actually make himself pee when they were side by side like that seemed to soften something in Vegeta. “… Fine, but don’t… Don’t LOOK at me at all when we’re in there.”
    “You already KNOW that I wouldn’t,” Goku promised, fighting to keep the relieved smile off his face as Vegeta finally agreed. “I’ve never looked before!” He paused. “… Not on purpose, anyway…” he mumbled.
    “What was that?!”
    “Nothing!”
    They entered the restroom together, and Vegeta’s shaking increased as soon as the door was shut. Goku pretended not to notice. He also pretended not to notice when Vegeta anxiously twisted the lock into place.
    They stood in front of the toilet, and Goku lowered his pants right away. Vegeta just stayed there with his fists clenching at his sides.
    Goku was having to work VERY hard not to just start peeing right then and there. He was supposed to be able to go now! He was at the toilet! “V—Vegeta, I’ve seen your thingy before,” he said, trying to calm his friend down some.
    “St—Stop REMINDING me of that as if it somehow makes this any better!” Vegeta’s shaking intensified as his hands hesitantly went for his waistband. “Don’t you DARE look, if you look, you DIE.”
    “I told you before I’m not gonna look!” Goku was shaking too now. “C—Come on, Vegeta, you’re ALREADY killing me here!”
    Vegeta continued to hesitate, then as a shudder went down his spine, he finally pulled himself out. He was shutting his eyes so tightly that his aim was sure to be absolutely terrible, but that didn’t matter because nothing was coming out of him.
    He felt so tense, every muscle he had was tied in a knot. And those knots were tied in knots, too. His ears weren’t picking up on as many sounds or voices this late into the night, but he could still sense so many unfamiliar chis!
    But, Kakarot’s was the strongest, the one he could feel the most. Kakarot, who didn’t care that the simple task of pissing took so much effort from him. Kakarot, who had just ALLOWED him to cling to him during the night, and then hadn’t said a word about it. Kakarot, who hadn’t made fun of him when he woke up and forgot how to breathe. Kakarot, who never judged him.
    Goku was trying his best to hold it back until Vegeta at least started to let out a dribble, but his body just couldn’t take it anymore. He was at the toilet, he could release… His bladder recognized that it was time to pee, so that was exactly what it did. And it felt GOOD, too. Even better than his relief at the gas station had been. He lost himself in the feeling, sighing with satisfaction before remembering that Vegeta was still having so much troub—
    Beside him, Vegeta finally started to pee. He was obviously trying not to make any noise, but Goku could hear a slow, steady exhale from his nose as he was at last able to let something out. Goku hoped that maybe the sound of him peeing had gotten Vegeta’s body to react; That would make sense, he’d noticed Vegeta get awfully tense around running water before.
    Goku was then given yet another reminder of exactly how large Vegeta’s bladder was— Not that he could ever forget. Once Goku had finished up one of the most badly needed pees of his life, he waited for Vegeta to finish. He turned away completely to give his friend more privacy, and then he had to just… Stand there for several more minutes.
    A few times, Vegeta’s stream would slow and taper off, but then he’d start going full-force again after a moment.
    Goku had been seriously about to burst, he’d needed to go so bad that it had been starting to hurt, so to have Vegeta continue to pee for SO long after Goku had gotten everything out… Goku knew that Vegeta just HAD a bigger bladder than him, that was simply the fact of the matter. But this was still concerning and Goku had half a mind to scold Vegeta for not admitting that he’d been having trouble before they’d gone to sleep.
    Then again, this was such a precarious, fragile thing and Goku knew he couldn’t let Vegeta think he was judging him for ANYTHING.
    Vegeta FINALLY finished and hurriedly fixed his clothing again. “Kakarot…” he breathed out. He sounded winded, utterly exhausted. And it probably had nothing to do with waking up in the middle of the night.
    “C—Can I turn around?” Goku asked, just to make sure.
    “Fine…” Vegeta said.
    When Goku turned, Vegeta was still red in the face, awkwardly shifting as if he still needed to go.
    “Phew…” Goku sighed. “I sure feel better now! Right, Vegeta?”
    “Mmf…” Vegeta turned away. “Listen… Tonight was… Everything about it, I just—“
    “I’m not gonna tell anybody, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    “Good,” Vegeta said. “And, Kakarot?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Wash your damn hands this time.”
  20. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from Zapp Renfro in My Commission Thread   
    Part of my series "Limits" 
    *** 
    Vegeta laid face-down in bed, grimacing. He would never admit it, but he’d overdone it today. His arms were sore, his neck was sore, his spine felt like it was going to disintegrate. He’d turned the gravity up even higher than usual while he’d been training, and when that had resulted in pain and his body had failed to adjust, he hadn’t been able to make himself lower it again. Lowering it would be admitting defeat and, even if he was the only one around to witness it, it would still be unacceptable.
    So, now every muscle he had hurt. But, at least he hadn’t given up!
    Bulma looked over at him as he winced, “Vegeta, did you nearly crush yourself in the gravity chamber again today?”
    “… No,” Vegeta said.
    “Uh-huh…” Bulma said. She reached over and started to rub his back. She knew the gentle strokes wouldn’t do a whole lot to ease the aches, but it would be better than nothing.
    When Vegeta didn’t pull away and insist that he was fine, Bulma knew he must have REALLY pushed himself, which meant that tomorrow she’d have to come up with some way to convince him to spend the day resting… That was always like trying to pull teeth from a bear.
    “That… Feels good…” Vegeta admitted after a moment.
    “It’s supposed to,” Bulma said. “Wow, you have a ton of knots…”
    “Knots…?”
    “Yeah, it’s this thing that happens to people’s muscles sometimes, like a spasm that makes them tense up a lot.”
    “Feh, maybe humans get those, but a Saiyan’s muscles are—“
    “Usually, they’re caused by repetitive motion, or anxiety, or dehydration…”
    “All things that DON’T apply to me,” Vegeta said. “If you’re feeling anything like a ‘knot’ I’m sure it’s just something Saiyans are SUPPOSED to have.”
    “Vegeta, literally ALL of those things apply to you! You train constantly, you feel a lot of anxiety, you don’t drink enough—“
    “I drink plenty of water now!” Vegeta insisted. “I drink as much as you force me to!”
    That was true, but Bulma still needed to continue gradually INCREASING Vegeta’s fluid intake. By now, he was drinking enough for an average person, but NOT enough for someone who spent ninety percent of their life working out and sweating.
    “And what’s this ‘anxiety’ nonsense again?” Vegeta demanded. “I don’t fear anything.”
    “Anxiety and fear are not the same—“
    “I feel neither of them!”
    Bulma sighed. He was so damned stubborn, and she wasn’t in the mood for an argument tonight, so when Vegeta tried to speak again, Bulma stopped rubbing his back and did something else instead. She wondered if it would do anything to him…
    Vegeta started to squirm as the unfamiliar sensation hit him. That… Felt… So… It was like something was twitching beneath his skin, it was so annoying! And, for some incomprehensible reason, it was actually making him laugh. “Haha— Bulma!” He snapped. “What the Hell are you doing?! Knock it off!”
    Bulma CONTINUED to dance her fingers along his back. “Oh, so you ARE ticklish— Has no one ever done this to you before?”
    He jerked away from her and rolled onto his side, trying NOT to laugh— Why couldn’t he control that? The sensation of Bulma’s touch was intolerably irritating, it shouldn’t have made him laugh! “C—Cut it out!”
    Bulma just smiled at him, “Oh, but your laugh is so cute—“
    “How dare— I am NOT cu—“
    Bulma kept going, moving her hand over his stomach, which felt even WORSE, and caused him to have an even more difficult time keeping his laughter at bay. “Haha— Stop it— Woman— I am going to—“ She’d grabbed his arm, pinning him down, for some reason the motion of her fingers across his abdomen was making it hard to move. “E—Enough!”
    She didn’t stop. She knew he was going to make her pay for this somehow, but she was having too much fun to quit now.
    Vegeta kept wriggling and snapping at her to knock it off. She was right that no one had ever done this to him before, and he would have preferred to have been allowed to KEEP it that way! The feeling itself was infuriating, and he didn’t feel like he was in control of his own body, which only aggravated him further. And she just kept going, the sensations intensifying along with his laughter, and his—
    Whoa—
    He snapped his legs together just in time to prevent a leak from his bladder. What the Hell?! He hadn’t even needed to pee a minute ago! But, he’d nearly started to— Started to— He REALLY needed to go, NOW! “B—Bulma!” He ordered, trying to force his voice to sound more firm in spite of his laughter. “Stop— You have to stop now!”
    She wouldn’t listen, “Oh, look at this, I’ve got the Prince of all Saiyans begging me for mercy!”
    “No— No you don’t—“ Enraged, Vegeta gripped her hand, but she squirmed it free and continued. His bladder spasmed sharply, and he really didn’t feel like he was in control of it at all. He tensed his thighs, shuddering. He felt a hot twinge moving down his length. “I— Haha—Stop now! I— I need— Hahaha— I need you to stop!”
    “Tell me I’ve defeated you,” Bulma teased, trailing her hand over his stomach.
    “N—Never!” Vegeta exclaimed. “That’s— Hahaha— Ridiculous! I’m not going to—“ Warmth trickled out of him as a few droplets managed to escape his quivering bladder. “—Stop. Stop it now. You don’t understa—“
    “Haven’t had enough yet?” Bulma gathered, increasing her efforts, tickling him just beneath his ribs and making him laugh harder than ever. “Oh, here’s the right spot…”
    Vegeta paled as another spurt hissed forth, “STOP, Bulma— I— Hahahaha— I’m going to— I— I need to—“
    Ignoring him, Bulma pressed on, “You know how to make me stop…” she taunted. “Just say that I’ve defeated you, and—“
    “N—No!” He couldn’t say that! There wasn’t ANY other statement that could POSSIBLY be harder for him to say than that one! Not even— Not even… “Bulma, I can’t hold it! Stop now! I’m gonna burst!”
    Bulma slowed down, needing a second to actually process what he’d just said, “You’re…”
    Vegeta shoved his way off the bed, trying not to cross his legs at a surge of pressure. Had he seriously just said that?! It had gotten her to stop, but— How could he have said such a thing?! Reddening intensely, he rushed to the bathroom and hoped the embarrassment wouldn’t make it too hard for him to go.
    The sore, achy exhaustion in all of his muscles seemed to help, because his bladder began emptying fairly quickly. What surprised him was how little had actually been IN there. It shouldn’t have been THAT shocking since he had peed before getting into bed, but with as urgent as it had felt he’d expected more. He hoped that what he’d done to himself in the gravity chamber hadn’t shrunk his bladder…
    He came back out a moment later, shame-faced.
    “I’m sorry,” Bulma said. “I got carried away. I just love the sound of your laugh, and I don’t get to hear it that often.”
    Vegeta laid back down, still blushing.
    “Come on, Vegeta… I promise, I didn’t mean to make you laugh THAT hard!”
    Vegeta sat up slightly, “Laughter… Makes you need—“
    “Yeah,” Bulma said. “You didn’t know that?”
    Vegeta shook his head. He’d never laughed that hard before, his body had never had that type of reaction.
    “Well, it does, that’s normal,” Bulma told him. “I had no idea your ribs were so ticklish! Too bad you normally have armor on over them!”
    “Perhaps I should start wearing my armor to bed…” Vegeta said. “Sounds like I need it for my own protection.”
    “Aw, don’t be like that,” Bulma said. “Hm…”
    “What?”
    “I was thinking about your tail…”
    “Why?”
    “Saiyan tails are REALLY sensitive, aren’t they? I wonder what it would have been like to tickle you THERE.”
    “Well, if my tail ever spontaneously reappears, you’d better not try to find out!”
    Bulma laughed and was about to lay down, when something else occurred to her. “Hey, back when you still had your tail, you’d transform during the full moon just like Goku, right?”
    “Of course I would,” Vegeta said. “Why?”
    “Do you remember if you ever tried to pee while you were transformed?”
    Vegeta jerked away from her, his face instantaneously scorching red. “Of course not! Why the Hell would I do that?!”
    “I thought maybe it would have been easier.”
    “How would it have been easier?!” Vegeta demanded.
    “Well, when Goku did it, he wasn’t himself anymore. He didn’t know what he was doing, and seemed to just act on instinct. More like an animal—“
    “Even more than usual?”
    “Vegeta…” Bulma sighed. “I just figured, if you’re not really aware of yourself, then you would be less likely to get—“
    “I was always in control of myself while transformed,” Vegeta said. “I knew what I was doing. That’s something Saiyans master when they’re young. I guess Kakarot never managed it because there weren’t any other Saiyans around to teach him how.”
    “Yeah, Goku definitely never knew what he was doing. And he wouldn’t remember any of it, either,” Bulma said.
    “Why are you even asking about this? My tail’s not going to grow back,” Vegeta said.
    “I know,” Bulma said. “Trust me, I pay enough attention to that area of your body to know that.”
    “V—Vulgar—“ Vegeta covered his face as he somehow managed to turn even redder.
    “So, you never even TRIED to pee that way?”
    “Of course not! We weren’t even supposed to… You know… in that form. Because it would get… VERY disgusting. I HOPE Kakarot never did it.”
    Bulma cringed. Now that she was picturing it more, it was probably a good thing that Vegeta hadn’t tried to relieve himself in that state. “He didn’t,” Bulma said. “Guess we lucked out there.”
    Vegeta mumbled something quietly. And since he was speaking softly, it of course caught Bulma’s attention. “Hm?”
    “N—Nothing, forget about it.”
    “Vegeta…”
    “Ugh, fine… I said… I said that sometimes transforming DID help, though.”
    “How?”
    “It was easier for me to… Okay, so if I was transformed I’d… Uh… You’ve seen Kakarot change, you already know there’s a huge size increase.”
    “But, how does— Oh,” Bulma said. “So, then your bladder would be…”
    “It would be much larger, yes.”
    His bladder was already enormous. When he’d been transformed, it must have been practically bottomless. She could imagine him being very desperate, insides splitting apart from the pressure, and then when his form changed he wouldn’t even feel it anymore. But, it wasn’t like he stayed that way forever, he’d have to change back eventually. And, then the opposite would happen. He’d suddenly be feeling the full brunt of his desperation all at once, made even worse by all the time that had passed.
    Vegeta was recalling those moments now, when he shrank back down to his normal size and the urge to pee returned to him instantaneously. The worst occasions were those where he’d managed to FORGET that he’d been bursting in the moments before he’d transformed. He’d be surprised by wave after wave of pressure, when seconds ago he hadn’t felt like he’d needed to pee at all.
    Transforming back was a disorienting process to begin with, he needed to quickly readjust to his regular size and shape, his energy would feel out of place for a few seconds, the whole thing was dizzying. Add onto that a sudden, extreme, emergency need for the bathroom and he’d really struggle to maintain his composure. When it was REALLY bad, he’d fold over on himself or be brought to his knees by the heavy swell in his middle, mortified that Nappa or Raditz would notice his severe distress and know what was bothering him.
    His only saving grace was that those two would always handle it far worse than he did. The dizzying effects of changing back were harder on them, leaving them dazed for much longer, and less aware of what Vegeta was doing. If Vegeta released a pained, desperate moan and tangled his legs together, it went unnoticed.
    And, they handled the bladder-thing a lot worse as well. If either of them had been a little desperate before transforming, then when they turned back, there would be issues. Generally, this just meant that they had to go right away wherever they were, while Vegeta turned his back and shuddered as he tried to block out the noise from his brain, scoffing at them and ordering them to hurry it up.
    ‘Hurry, dammit,’ he’d think. ‘I need to get… Somewhere!’ Every so often, Vegeta would contemplate joining them for a second, his bladder would be aching so bad and it wasn’t RIGHT that two low-level fighters should be allowed to relieve themselves while their prince continued to suffer! But, they’d always finish before Vegeta could talk himself into doing it.
    Then at least one of them would make some kind of remark like “Wow, Vegeta, changing back didn’t make you need to go?! Your bladder must be made of titanium!” And, that would be the end of it; Vegeta definitely couldn’t admit that, actually, he WAS about to explode after that kind of comment! He had to live up to those words!
    One time, things had happened a little differently, however. When Vegeta transformed back and the fullness of his bladder slammed into him once more, his eyes widened comically and he almost lost his footing. He had to go so fucking bad! He was overflowing! His middle felt like Frieza had blown a hole straight through it, and his thoughts immediately turned into a garbled mess of desperation. It was bad, it was astonishingly bad. It was so bad that he was squeezing his thighs and pressing his tail against himself— It was less obvious if he used his tail instead of his hands, right?
    It was so bad that he was seriously considering peeing with Nappa and Raditz. Just this ONE time. He’d… He’d pretend it wasn’t an emergency, like he could hold it for ages more if he wanted to! He’d pretend he was only going because… Because he… Wanted to… Uh… Because he wanted to PROVE something, yeah! He’d say ‘A Saiyan should be able to piss WAY farther than that! Look how far I can spray it!’ And—
    Ugh… Why was the thought of showing off, boasting and making a big spectacle only causing his stomach to knot up on itself? That wasn’t what usually happened to him at all! Yet, when he imagined himself announcing that he could shoot his stream farther than his companions, and then releasing his bladder in front of them to prove it… His… His chest felt twitchy, like it was itching, but on the inside. He hoped it would go away, he just had to—
    “Ahhh!” A startled yell, followed by a furious hiss.
    Vegeta turned to see that Raditz and Nappa had changed back. Nappa was stumbling around and gripping himself. And Raditz was frozen still, liquid pouring down one of his legs.
    Vegeta found himself unable to move as well. The strange itch in his chest worsened, and it was starting to move up into his shoulders and down his arms as well. His face felt very, very warm. He was… Embarrassed, even though he wasn’t the one disgracing himself. He opened his mouth a few times, unable to form words. Raditz’s accident created an intensely noisy gush, splashing harshly against the ground beneath his feet. It was the loudest thing Vegeta had ever heard, and it was making his bladder lurch, he tensed his thighs. His tail, still pinned between them, started to ache.
    Off to his side, he was dimly aware of Nappa relieving his bladder, but he remained fixated on Raditz, and how dismayed and horrified his expression was. Vegeta’s bladder was thrashing, and his blood ran icy cold.
    He knew he was supposed to start screaming at Raditz now, demanding to know why he hadn’t held it, shouting at him that he was a weak, useless excuse for a fighter if he wasn’t even strong enough to control his bladder. He was supposed to yell at him that he was a disgrace to the few Saiyans left alive. That sort of thing was what he would have done any OTHER time Raditz screwed something up.
    But, he couldn’t do it now. The words refused to come. The ANGER refused to come, and that was the scariest part of all. All he could feel was humiliation and shame— And a whole lot of confusion because HE wasn’t the one who’d had an accident! HE was still holding it! He COULD hold it, he could hold it forever, he would never wet himself, ever…. Something inside of him was hurting, and not JUST his bladder.
    Raditz finally finished, “Pr—Prince Vegeta, I—“
    “Silence,” Vegeta said. Raditz’s bladder was empty now. Comfortable. Drained. No longer stretching him out. No longer driving him insane with pressure. Vegeta’s was so full he thought he might die, and he felt… He felt so… What the fuck was this feeling? Why was he so twitchy? Why were little bugs crawling beneath his skin? No, not bugs, they were worms. Disgusting, slimy, wriggling little worms, and they were all as cold as could be, and he couldn’t get rid of them because they were inside him, filling up his chest. “Don’t speak to me.”
    Nappa returned, “Vegeta, you’re not too mad are y—“
    “You shut up, too,” Vegeta growled. He wasn’t mad, he was… Something else. He didn’t know what. All he knew was that he HATED it, and he wanted to get away from here, he wanted to be alone, and he really, REALLY wanted to fucking pee!
    They returned to their pods. Once they’d taken off and Vegeta was alone in his seat, he writhed like crazy the whole way back. His bladder was going to burst and the sensations in his chest hadn’t faded at all. When they returned to one of Frieza’s many planets, and Vegeta was able to lock himself into a restroom, he could barely pee. He went, but it came out in a slow, dismal trickle, he had to cup a hand over his lower belly and squeeze to get it to continue dribbling, straining and pushing down so hard on his muscles that he was making himself light-headed.
    It took him close to ten minutes to force everything out, and he couldn’t understand why. He thought he was sick, but refused to get it checked out as he was too ashamed. He was able to urinate normally the next morning anyway, so he told himself it had been a fluke.
    That, he thought, was the first time that strange feeling in his chest had really become noticeable.
    “Vegeta…?” Bulma asked now. “What are you thinking about?”
    “Nothing,” Vegeta said.
    “When you changed back, and your bladder shrank,” Bulma said. “Was that ever—“
    “It was never a problem,” Vegeta said. “I could handle it.”
    “Okay…” Bulma knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but pressed on. He was speaking about his problem with her, however clipped his responses may have been. She had to get him to keep it up. Talking about it would help him, she knew it would. “Here’s something you might find funny,” she said. “When Yamcha came back to life, he wet himself.”
    “I think Yamcha does that any time I look at him,” Vegeta said. “So, I’m not surprised.”
    “When you come back, it’s like waking up from a long sleep, isn’t it? That’s how it felt for me after Buu,” Bulma said. “So, you need to go, right?”
    Vegeta rolled his eyes, “If you are trying to get me to… To ‘disclose’ how my resurrections faired on my… On my bladder, then you can forget about it.”
    “So, something DID happen, then?”
    “Nah—No! That’s not what I said!”
    “You implied it.”
    “Well… Even if I did, I’m not elaborating! The— The second time was horrific and I’m never speaking of it, and the first time— You were THERE for the first time, so you already know!”
    “I don’t know,” Bulma corrected.
    “Well, you were there,” Vegeta said. “I’m sure you can remember if you try. I’m not going to recount it for you.”
    Of course, now Vegeta couldn’t stop remembering it.
    The first time Vegeta was brought back to life, he spent the first hour just trying not to squirm as he leaned against a tree. He also tried his best not to think about how— if he were ANYONE else— the fact that he was beside a tree right now would have been a perfect solution to his current problem.
    His body hadn’t cooperated with him at all during his trip to Namek— It had betrayed him in every conceivable way. He struggled so much to void even when he was alone, and whenever he finally DID manage to let something out, he was never able to finish; It was torture, he’d try over and OVER again to pee, fail repeatedly most times, and then on the rare occasions that his bladder decided to obey him, he’d only be able to get just enough out to take the edge off. He was never able to empty himself completely, and was perpetually desperate.
    Every fight he’d gotten into on Namek, he’d had to manage with a full bladder. Each time he had to use the healing pod, he’d wish there were something in it that would manually force his body to drain out. Even when he got knocked unconscious, he didn’t urinate on himself— And, to his horror, he was DISMAYED each time he came to and realized that he was somehow still holding it. He thought he’d be able to forgive himself for having an accident if it happened under those circumstances.
    Miraculously, he was finally able to go after Kakarot had shown up and taken out the rest of the Ginyus. Vegeta didn’t know WHY that had done it, perhaps knowing that most of the people on the planet were now too dead to watch him piss was all he needed. Whatever the case, when he unzipped and tried for the hundredth time to rid himself of the awful pains tearing apart his insides and setting fire to his back, he was at last able to get out every drop.
    After he’d finished, he’d felt so exhausted that he’d fallen asleep beside the healing pod Kakarot was in. He hadn’t MEANT to rest so close to Kakarot, that was just where he happened to be when he realized his eyelids no longer wanted to stay open.
    But, soon after that was when his body would betray him in an even worse way, by failing to take down Frieza. He threw EVERYTHING he had at Frieza, and it had done absolutely nothing. Then, the most heinous betrayal of all, Vegeta had actually… He’d… Cried. He’d actually cried… And Vegeta DIDN’T cry— EVER. And then he just embarrassed himself even more, he practically BEGGED Kakarot to kill Frieza FOR him— Vegeta DIDN’T beg— but he had…
    And Frieza shot a beam straight through his heart while he was doing it. Vegeta had been killed while BEGGING a low-level fighter to do something that he himself was incapable of. He couldn’t think of a more shameful way to die.
    But, he’d been brought back… Apparently, since he’d defected from Frieza, he was counted in the wish to bring back everyone from Namek that had been killed by Frieza and his army. He should have been happy to be alive again, and he WAS, but it only took a few seconds for him to become reacquainted with one of the most annoying aspects of being alive; He badly needed to relieve himself.
    It wasn’t the same level of urgency he’d been experiencing ON Namek, at least. His back didn’t feel like it was drowning in acid after being set on fire a bunch of times. But, he was concerned about how much time he had left BEFORE that feeling reemerged. He was surprised he even needed to pee so much, he HADN’T needed to go at all when Frieza had— Had shot his heart.
    He ignored everyone else talking, bored by their conversation about where the Namekians were going to live now, and how to bring Kakarot back. Vegeta’s only concern was when and WHERE he would be able to void. Again, the tree would have been perfectly serviceable if he wasn’t so— If this… problem weren’t a factor. But, he doubted the issue had vanished when he’d been brought back to life, and there was a large crowd here to watch as he tried— and most likely failed— to urinate.
    For some reason, the idea of someone watching him STRUGGLE to pee was even more horrifying to him than the idea of someone watching him ACTUALLY go…
    The tree wouldn’t work. He could fly off and look for somewhere else, but Earth was a densely populated planet and he’d seen very, very little of it. He had no idea which direction to head off in, if he’d even be ABLE to find seclusion anywhere close by.
    Come to think of it, where was he going to stay? He didn’t have a way OFF this planet, he was stuck here. In the past, when he stayed on one planet for a longer period of time, it was because Frieza had established a base on it, so he’d have a room somewhere. Otherwise, he slept in his pod or on Frieza’s ship. None of those things were options now…
    Urgh… He’d deal with that later. One problem at a time. It would be easier to figure out where he was gonna sleep after his bladder was finished distracting him.
    The blue-haired Earth woman was offering to let the Namekians stay at her house… There were so many of them, how large were Earthling homes? Had Kakarot been living like a king while Vegeta had been relegated to whatever tiny quarters Frieza granted him? How dare—
    Before he could finish that thought, the woman added that HE could stay at her house too… And then she— She had the AUDACITY to tell him that he was kind of cute! HOW DARE— “WHAT?! I’m not— Shut up!”
    As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had the gall to laugh! He, Vegeta, had just ORDERED her to be silent and she responded by LAUGHING! “Oh, come on, drop the arrogant tough guy act and relax, let it all out!” She said.
    What was she saying THAT for?! Could she tell?! He looked down at himself, noticing the tremors in his legs, but thankfully nothing else. He really, really had to pee, but he didn’t think it LOOKED like he really, really had to pee… Even if she couldn’t tell that he needed to go, speaking so CASUALLY to him was unacceptable! Didn’t she know who he was, what he was capable of?! Why wasn’t she terrified of him?!
    Perhaps she was, and her offer of a place to sleep was an attempt to placate him so that he didn’t DESTROY this dustball of a planet. Yeah. She WAS scared of him, she was just better at hiding it than most people, that had to be it.
    Two hours later, Vegeta was struggling not to double over as the Earth woman— Bulma— gave him a tour of her ridiculously oversized house. He didn’t understand why she was doing this. She’d just sent the Namekians off with her father so he could show them to their rooms. But, for some reason, she wanted to show him EVERYTHING.
    Everything except for the ONLY thing Vegeta actually WANTED to see… He wanted her to hurry up and bring him to the room he’d be staying in, and then leave him alone for a while. But, he realized he was just ASSUMING that the room would contain something he could relieve himself into. That may just be wishful thinking. He might get there and find that he had nowhere to go after all. His room on Frieza’s ship hadn’t had an attached restroom, so he was always forced to wait around until he was certain no one would see him entering a bathroom before he could use it.
    That had been annoying, but at least he knew where all the toilets on Frieza’s ship WERE. He couldn’t say the same for this place— At no point in this long winded tour had Bulma pointed out where ANY of them were. And Vegeta— Well, he couldn’t just ASK. Bulma was already confusing him, she was way too good at acting like she didn’t fear him, he almost actually BELIEVED it. And, needing her to provide him somewhere to sleep made him think she was pitying him. Giving any indication that he desperately had to use the bathroom would make all of that worse.
    It would be even easier for her to pretend that he wasn’t menacing if he admitted that he was dying to pee. And, if he failed to keep his squirming in check, he’d look pathetic, she’d pity him more. He could NOT ask, he could NOT draw her attention to this. So long as she didn’t find out that he had to go, everything would be okay. He’d handle his need unnoticed, and THEN he’d be able to show her that he was meant to be feared, that the last thing he ever needed was anyone’s sympathy, and that he was DEFINITELY not ‘cute’!
    Vegeta was still worried that she could already tell, though. That whole ‘let it all out’ comment was stuck in his mind, and it wouldn’t surprise him if this never-ending tour that was skipping over any restroom facilities was a deliberate act of torture on her part. Vegeta knew HE’D do something similar if he were showing Kakarot around a place and had noticed that he was bursting to go.
    Bulma showed him a ridiculous number of rooms, most of them laboratories of some sort. She was telling him about ‘capsules’, and how apparently people could fit pretty much anything inside of one. Vegeta didn’t really understand any of it, maybe he would have if he’d been able to think more clearly.
    She kept glancing back at him. Especially after his bladder started to throb so viciously that he was forced to slow down his pace. She could tell, she could tell… He was pathetic, and she could tell. She was wondering what was wrong with him, why he was incapable of just asking her where a bathroom was, why he was forcing himself to hold it for no reason.
    Vegeta tried to calm himself down, maybe she couldn’t tell and it was all in his head. And, even if she had figured it out, maybe she just assumed that he didn’t know HOW to ask for what he needed, that since he was an alien he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say…
    “Are you cold?” Bulma asked him finally.
    This place WAS chillier than he was used to, but it wasn’t enough to make him uncomfortable. His bladder was doing a FINE job of that all on its own. But, Vegeta was aware that he was trembling, he was holding all of his muscles as taut as he could so that he didn’t give in to the desire to squirm. “I’m fine… Just exhausted. And your yammering hasn’t helped much.”
    Bulma frowned, then rolled her eyes, “I guess I can’t expect you to have any manners, can I?”
    Vegeta huffed, glancing away. He had every right to be annoyed! This tour had been going on for ages, and even if she DIDN’T notice that he was bursting, it was still her fault! To his dismay, he thought he actually kind of WANTED her to figure it out, being asked if he wanted to pee didn’t seem as difficult to him as bringing it up himself. That realization wasn’t enough to prompt him to start squirming more blatantly, however. He still couldn’t bring himself to do that, even as his body screamed at him to move around.
    “I guess I’ve shown you everything you’d need to know about…” Bulma considered.
    She hadn’t. She’d forgotten something important. Vegeta just couldn’t form the words… And now he’d been standing in one spot for too long, and his bladder was pinching and surging a bit more persistently. He stepped in place. Then, fearing that was too obvious, he started to pace around the hallway instead.
    “Where are you going?” Bulma asked. “Was there something you wanted to see more closely?”
    “N—No, I just—“ ‘I have to relieve myself really badly,’ he thought. ‘That’s all I want to do’. “Like I said, I’m exhausted. Being dead takes a lot out of you, not that someone like you would know anything about that!”
    His lower eyelid twitched when Bulma started to laugh. “Pfft… Hahahaha!”
    “Wh—What’s so damn funny, woman?!” Vegeta demanded. Had she figured it out? Could she tell he was about to burst? Did she think his critical need to release his waters was hilarious for some reason?! How dare she?!
    “You’re bragging about DYING before I have,” Bulma pointed out. “I’ve never heard anyone do that— And, a lot of my friends have died at least once before. You think EVERYTHING you do is some big triumph, don’t you?”
    “That’s not what I meant— I— Dammit, I will NOT be mocked!”
    “Heh, you’re blushing…” Bulma pointed out.
    “I am NOT,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face, just to be sure. She was laughing at him… She was supposed to be cowering in fear. At MOST, she was supposed to be angry at him! Those were the reactions Vegeta was used to, terror or fury. People weren’t supposed to be happy to be around him!
    It was because his bladder was full. That was it. He needed to pee so badly that his usual, threatening aura must have been fading. That was why she wasn’t scared. Once he’d relieved himself, he’d be able to show her what he was REALLY made of again.
    If he ever GOT to pee, anyway…
    “But, alright. You’re tired. You were SO busy being dead,” Bulma said. “Want me to show you your room?”
    “Very well…” Vegeta replied. There had BETTER be somewhere he could urinate in there too. He dreaded having to leave the room and then… Search around for a while because he STILL couldn’t bring himself to just ASK…
    “Okay,” Bulma said. She led him down another hallway. And then another. And another. Vegeta was starting to think the whole tour was completely pointless. This place was like a maze. He figured that, even if he hadn’t been preoccupied this whole time, he’d still be unable to remember where anything actually was.
    As they walked, he occasionally glanced at the doors, searching for any indication that one of them led to a restroom. He wouldn’t be able to rush right inside if he spotted one, of course. But, he’d try to remember the location so he could come back later when he was by himself. Very few of the doors had labels on them though and the few labels he DID see weren’t ones that he could understand.
    Bulma finally opened one of the doors, revealing a bedroom. “Here,” she said. “Get some rest. If you need anything, I’ll be in the atrium.”
 
Vegeta couldn’t recall how to get back there. But, he was clearly incapable of asking her for anything no matter how badly he needed it, so it didn’t matter. He glanced into the room, unable to tell if it held any promise of relief. “This is… Satisfactory,” he said. “Be on your way now.”
    “What do you say?” Bulma prompted him. Clearly, he needed to be taught some manners…
    “The room is fine,” Vegeta said. “Goodnight.”
    Well… That wasn’t what she was looking for, but ‘goodnight’ was still one of the nicest things he’d said to her so far. “Try to get some sleep,” she told him.
    Vegeta strode into the room and shut the door. As soon as he heard it click, he bent forwards and grasped at himself, granting his body some much needed pressure. He bounced on his heels as he tried to get a better handle on his need. All that walking around and waiting, and he hadn’t been able to do ANYTHING to calm down the throbbing. He looked up after a moment, he could see two doors, and hoped ONE of them would lead to what he wanted.
    Before he could straighten himself back out, the bedroom door opened again. Vegeta jumped as light flooded into the room, and he was still standing there, hunched over, holding himself and rubbing his legs together. He hurriedly released his hands and spun around. “Wha— What is it— I wasn’t doing anyth—“
    Bulma stared at him for a second, “Are you okay?” She asked. “Does your chest still hurt? If it does, you can say so— You don’t have to try to hide it.”
    “I—I’m not hurt,” Vegeta snapped. “I’m fine! What do you want?”
    Bulma kept looking at him, at his strained posture and fidgeting legs. Now that he’d LET himself start squirming, he couldn’t help but continue. “Just wanted to let you know that if you get hungry or thirsty during the night, you’re allowed to get something from the kitchen.”
    “Yes, yes, that’s great,” Vegeta rushed out. “N—Now, I— I want to be alone.” Please, just let him be alone! He couldn’t hold still, and if she kept watching him like that, it was only inevitable that she was going to work out why!
    “Okay,” Bulma said. “But, if you ever want to talk to someone—“
    “Later!” Vegeta snapped. It was like she WANTED to be near him— It was insane! People weren’t supposed to like being close to him! If he didn’t start acting like he was SUPPOSED to soon—
    “Alright, see you tomorrow,” And finally she was shutting the door again.
    Vegeta’s hands flew back between his legs for a nice, long squeeze before he was able to start walking again. He managed to reach one of the doors and yanked it open, discovering a small closet, with nothing of use inside of it. Wincing, he shut the door and stumbled across the room to the other one. If this one didn’t have anywhere he could piss, he was going to go crazy. He couldn’t leave this room anymore because he could no longer let go of his crotch. Yeah, if Bulma saw him like THIS she’d immediately tell him where he could find a bathroom, but he couldn’t allow her to see anything this pitiful, EVER.
    He yanked open the door and immediately felt a bit of tension fade. A restroom, finally… The toilet looked pretty close to what he was used to as well, and he was glad humans and Saiyans had similar anatomy. There wasn’t a holder for him to place his tail into if he wanted to sit down, but since his tail didn’t seem to be growing back, he doubted that would ever be a problem.
    He quickly shut the door and moved to lock it, shaking a bit when it struck him how flimsy the lock actually felt in his hand. He was sure it was enough to keep a human from busting down the door, but it was very apparent that, if he wasn’t careful, he could very easily destroy it.
    Vegeta got in front of the toilet and hurriedly lifted the lid and seat up, getting his clothing apart as fast as he could. But, naturally, relief didn’t come easily.
    He’d DIED today, he’d been killed by Frieza after being utterly decimated by him, AND while basically begging Kakarot for help… He’d reached a whole new level of pathetic. He didn’t see any way to come back from that. Clearly, he must have lost what made him a great fighter today, otherwise Bulma would be scared of him. But, she wasn’t. And the only reason she WOULDN’T be frightened would be because she too thought he was pathetic…
    He was definitely pitiful, he couldn’t even piss… ‘Come ON, stupid thing… WORK,’ he thought. ‘Can’t ONE thing do what I want it to today?!’ He pushed a hand onto his lower stomach, inevitably just drawing forth more pain rather than a stream. ‘Frieza killed you so easily, he thought you were a joke. You didn’t even faze him. Nothing you did fazed him.’
    He hated how, when he struggled to piss, he just got locked up in his thoughts like this. He was totally alone with them, and they became far more vicious and cruel than anything he ever said to other people— And that was an impressive feat. ‘You are the prince of all Saiyans,’ he told himself. ‘You can’t let one loss destroy you like this…’ But, it was the worst loss imaginable.
    He had to strain and force himself to start peeing, and when it finally happened it was a slow, dismal stream that was tinted pink. The color alarmed him for a moment, but then the memory of Frieza pounding his fists into his kidneys over and over returned to him. No big mystery as to where the pink had come from. At least it wasn’t bright red…
    He never managed to really burst, only continuing to let out the halting, dribbling spurts. At least he was finally going at all, even if he barely felt relieved by it. It took him so long to get all of it out that his legs went numb. Finally, he was able to put his clothes back together. His abdomen was sore and aching, and so was his back. And his chest where Frieza’s final blast had hit him. And his arms. And… Basically everything.
    Dying really HAD taken a lot out of him…
    He left the restroom and collapsed on the bed. He knew he should probably wash himself, but he was just so tired and wanted this day to finally end. He’d deal with it tomorrow.
    Vegeta jumped again when he heard the door opening. Bulma was back… Again… Now that he wasn’t bursting to piss, he thought he could be a bit more menacing to her, at least. He sat up, glowering. “What do you want this time, woman?!” He snapped. “I am trying to sleep!”
    “I know,” Bulma said. “And, I’m sorry. It’s just, I was thinking and I realized that I forgot something important.”
    Vegeta sighed and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, folding his arms. “And what might that be?”
    “I didn’t show you where any of the bathrooms are,” Bulma said. “I’m sorry, that should have been one of the first things.”
    What was she implying?! Did she think he couldn’t hold it for a reasonable amount of time?!
    “And, I don’t know how similar the showers and toilets are here to what you got used to in space, or if you need me to explain how they work, so if that’s a problem—“
    “I am perfectly capable of figuring such things out!”
    “I’m sure you can! But, you looked so uncomfortable earlier, and I started thinking maybe you just needed to—“
    “Of course not! I’m not a child!”
    “Don’t get all defensive about th—“
    “I’m NOT getting defensive!” Vegeta exclaimed, defensively.
    Bulma sighed. “You’re blushing again,” she deadpanned.
    “Nope,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face again. “Now… Get out. I want to sleep. And you don’t have to explain anything to me.”
    “Alright… Sleep well,” Bulma said. Like she actually cared about whether or not he got a decent night’s rest… Why SHOULD she?
    The next morning, Vegeta woke uncomfortably. Now that he’d rested up, he was a lot more aware of how filthy he was. He needed to wash off… He went to the shower and stared at the dial for a few seconds. It was… Weird. On Frieza’s ship, the showers had had a bunch of buttons, not just one huge dial. One button to turn it on and off, and then a series of them to control the temperature.
    Deciding the dial couldn’t be THAT different, Vegeta turned it slightly, and immediately a spray of ice-cold water hit him. “Gah—!” Cold, cold, cold! He shivered violently as he moved the dial just a tiny bit further. Suddenly, the water was blisteringly hot instead. Dammit!
    He’d figure this out. He did NOT need Bulma to teach him how it worked!
    ***
    “I guess I do kind of remember,” Bulma said now. “When I was giving you that tour, I thought the AC was too high since you wouldn’t stop shaking, then I thought maybe you just had to go, and you—“
    “Ordered you to stop speaking about it,” Vegeta said. “And, I would very much appreciate it if you did that NOW. I’m through discussing this.”
  21. Upvote
    secretomoact got a reaction from Zapp Renfro in My Commission Thread   
    Shy Couple 
    Brandon and Courtney had been dating for a few months now. So far, everything had been going well. They had the same tastes in movies and in music. They liked a lot of the same types of foods. They both enjoyed the same video games and were about equally skilled as one another. They both felt like they’d found their exact match. They were so similar that their relationship was a very agreeable and easy-going one.
    But, there was one other way Brandon and Courtney were alike, one that had led to a bit of discomfort. Both of them were very, VERY shy about certain things. Neither one liked to wear outfits that showed much skin, and both were rather soft-spoken in public. Most of all though, Brandon and Courtney were extremely shy about peeing.
    Neither of them had Paruresis— which was the extreme version of being a shy pee-er. Their bodies would generally cooperate in public restrooms if given the right circumstances. Mostly, they just couldn’t go if someone was right near them watching, and neither was comfortable at ALL with excusing themselves from a discussion or group activity to go use the toilet. Both knew it was silly, but they’d think to themselves that whoever they had just left was now thinking about them peeing, thinking about how they must not have been able to hold it any longer, judging them… It was so embarrassing!
    They both knew that it was ridiculous to assume anyone was actually thinking those things about them, but the idea had wedged itself so firmly into both of their brains, as if tattooed there. So, rather than feel the embarrassment of having someone else think about them peeing, they both held it until they had an opportunity to go without anyone else’s notice. And, after years of having to do that, they’d gotten very, very good at holding it in.
    Brandon’s bladder had strengthened considerably during his school days. When class was not in session, the men’s restrooms would NEVER be empty and so he wouldn’t go use it— He couldn’t even bring himself to use a stall with others in the room. DURING classes, he could be sure that at least one bathroom was devoid of people, but to go use it he’d have to raise his hand and request a pass; Everyone in his class would hear him ask, everyone would know what he was going to do. So, he never asked for permission to leave. And he just never peed until he was back home.
    Often, he’d get so desperate to relieve himself that he’d be squirming and writhing, bouncing around and trying not to hold his crotch too blatantly. But, somehow doing all THAT was not as embarrassing to him as urinating in front of another person, or letting others know that he was going to the restroom, would have been. It wasn’t the most logical thing, of course. He knew it. But, anxiety was seldom very rational.
    Some days it would start to hurt him a little. His bladder would feel so engorged inside his core that he’d feel like he was about to rip apart. He’d fantasize to himself about how good it would feel to let his taut, bunched-up muscles relax for a moment. But then, he’d cross his legs, grit his teeth, and endure it all. He would always be well rewarded in the end, once he was at home and could finally unzip and let it go… There was no better feeling in the world than that.
    Back during school, Courtney had been the exact same way. She actually thought she may have had it worse, as at her high school the women’s bathrooms had been viewed as social hangouts for some reason. Girls who wanted to cut class would hide out in there, or they’d gab to each other at the mirrors between classes. Sometimes they even talked with one another while peeing, something Courtney couldn’t understand at all. How could anyone have a discussion while doing something so… so mortifying?
    And, like Brandon, she would twist and squirm throughout the day. She’d sit on the heel of her foot and jiggle up and down as she tried to keep her liquid at bay. And as obvious as her desperation must have been, as clearly as everyone must have been able to tell that something was making her uncomfortable, Courtney thought that the alternative would be even worse. Heck, she was even okay with saying the words “I really, really have to pee” to the friends she was close with, just not the words “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go pee”. She knew they all thought it was weird, but Courtney couldn’t explain it to them. She barely understood it herself.
    So, every day, Courtney held it until she got home. And, every day she would finally sit down on the nice, private toilet where no one would see, hear, or think about how she was going. And, every day, the relief she’d feel as her bladder finally compressed and deflated would make her feel so much better that it made all the earlier discomfort worth it.
    When they’d first begun dating, neither one brought up their quirk to the other. But, slowly they noticed it; Just one more way they seemed to mirror each other. Courtney would see Brandon chew his lip and knit his brow before taking another sip from his drink when they ate dinner somewhere. She’d see him bounce his knees, cross his ankles and fight with his seatbelt as she drove and she’d think ‘Brandon sure looks like he has to go… I wonder why he hasn’t said anything.’ She wouldn’t say anything herself, either. She could have been wrong, maybe Brandon didn’t actually have to pee and he was just… generally a fidgety person.
    Brandon would also catch Courtney jiggling. He’d catch her shudder as they walked past a water-feature in a park. He’d catch her hopping from foot to foot or jumping in place as they waited in line for tickets at the theater. He’d catch her wince and groan if they went over a big speed bump while driving. And he’d think ‘Courtney looks like she’s going to burst… Why doesn’t she just ask me to stop?’ He tried to write it off. Maybe Courtney’s squirming wasn’t from a full bladder, maybe it was something else.
    Eventually, after a couple weeks, they finally did talk about it. They’d been driving back from the theater and had gotten caught in traffic. Courtney was coiling around on herself and grimacing as her knees knocked together. She was ready to explode, dying to just get to the private toilet in her home and GO. She was also annoyed with herself. She’d been good about drinking while in the theater, only having a very small beverage that she thought wouldn’t fill her up too much. But, about halfway through the film she realized she’d forgotten to go before Brandon had arrived for their date. Gazing at the clock now, she saw it had been well over 6 hours since her last pee.
    Brandon, whom was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other occasionally palming his crotch, was not any better off than she was. He cursed himself for drinking a large soda during the movie. He cursed himself for not going RIGHT before he’d left to pick Courtney up. He looked at the clock, it had been about 4 hours since he’d last relieved his bladder and it was screaming. It was screaming so loudly that Brandon wanted to scream as well. He managed not to shout, but he did moan out the words “Ohhh, I have to pee SO bad…”
    Courtney, so focused on her own predicament that she’d failed to notice her boyfriend’s, gave him a quick glance. Poor guy looked miserable! He’d undone the button on his pants, letting a moderately sized bulge in his abdomen become pretty visible. Courtney shoved a hand up against her crotch and flexed her thighs. “Me too…” she managed. “I— I think there’s a bottle in the back, if you need—“
    “No,” Brandon interrupted. His voice was sharp and insistent.
    Assuming he just didn’t want to use a bottle when he knew that her own anatomy would make it extremely difficult for her to do the same, she assured; “I don’t mind. I can hold—“
    “I— I don’t… I don’t go in front of people,” Brandon said. “It’s too…”
    “…Oh,” Courtney said, and now she understood. The reason Brandon always appeared desperate for a bathroom at the end of their dates was because he was constantly holding it. Because he was shy. Because he was like her. “Well, I’m the same way,” she told him.
    “Oh,” Brandon echoed. That made sense. He was surprised he hadn’t guessed that already. But, while he’d been reassured several times that lots of men were shy pee-ers, it had never crossed his mind that there were women who were as well— He always saw them go to use the toilet in groups, after all. He’d kind of just assumed women were all more open about that sort of thing than he could ever be. He felt pretty silly for thinking that way now.
    The traffic kept stalling, and both of them kept fidgeting and wriggling and hoping for it to clear. Courtney did not offer Brandon the bottle again, even as sweat started to slide down his face and his teeth gnashed together with discomfort. Many times when she was younger and had gone out somewhere with her family, Courtney’s mother would say something like “Go use the restroom, Courtney. I can see you’re having an emergency. Just go try.” And that sort of thing would just dunk Courtney straight down into a hot vat of shame. She’d be much too embarrassed and self-conscious after hearing that kind of remark to go use the restroom! It made her feel like she was being monitored, like her bodily functions were a top priority. And, it would make her hold it in even longer than she would have otherwise.
    When she and her family returned home, instead of going to the bathroom as soon as everyone else was out of earshot, she’d make herself hold it even longer. She’d make herself hold it until she was sure everyone had forgotten all about what her Mother had said to her. Only then would it be safe and okay to go pee.
    She didn’t want to make Brandon feel that way, so she didn’t tell him “Brandon, you look like you’re gonna burst. Just try to go in the bottle so you’ll feel better.” As well-meaning as that may have sounded to others, she knew from experience that Brandon would just feel humiliated.
    So, they both held it until the traffic cleared up. They held it and held it as their bladders swelled and began to form little, harsh bumps in their middles. They held it and held it as they twisted every which way. Then, finally, they’d reached Courtney’s home and Brandon dropped her off. She didn’t want to say anything for fear of putting him on the spot and embarrassing him about it, but she wondered if he would ask to go here.
    He didn’t. He just drove off, obviously determined to make it to his own place for relief.
    Speaking of relief, Courtney hurried into her dark, empty home. She lived on her own now, so the toilet here was always easy to use. Which was what she did as soon as she was through the door. The straining ball of tension in her core eased away into nothingness, and she felt much better.
    After that day, they noticed one another’s needs more. It was now just generally understood that whenever the two of them were out, they’d be holding back very full bladders by the end of the day. They grew used to seeing each other squirm, and to the sight of the firm protrusions that their bladders would make form in their middles after a while. They didn’t really talk about it too much, but they were both comfortable telling the other when they were bursting to go, if only to give a voice to the thunderous complaints taking place within.
    They loved each other, they both loved that they’d found someone they had so much in common with. Their bladders were similar in more ways than just the shyness alone. They both seemed to have around the same capacity, so eventually they agreed that the maximum amount of time they could be out before their desperation became horrid and painful was about 10 hours. So, they scheduled dates accordingly, always managing to return to their homes before the pressure inside them got to be torturous. And they always made sure to consider the possibility of getting stuck in traffic. They were good at making preparations, at planning ahead.
    But, even the best planners can’t hope to anticipate every possible outcome.
    And, there came a day when things went wrong, and both Brandon and Courtney’s bladders were really put to the test.
    They had decided to go to a concert together. It was going to be a long drive, but both were careful to pee right before leaving their homes. By the time they arrived to the concert 3 hours later, neither really felt much of an urge to go at all. The concert also wasn’t supposed to last too long, so they both felt that they could handle having a few sodas during it. 4 hours later, with the concert having wrapped up, Brandon and Courtney definitely needed to pee quite a bit, but they’d both held much more for much longer before. There was no reason to worry about the 2 hour drive back.
    The problem was that it turned out they still had a lot more than just 3 hours left to wait. A massive wreck had occurred on the highway and parts of it had been shut down while it was cleared up. With their only way home blocked off, they were effectively stuck at the event center for the foreseeable future.
    Brandon tried not to internally panic as the pressure inside his bladder, which had felt dull and manageable a moment ago, seemed to just sky-rocket. This was the most stressful thing about being pee shy to him, there were times when he’d think he’d planned everything out right and would be home before he was having a terrible emergency, only for something completely unexpected to happen and force him to keep holding with no end in sight. Brandon generally got nervous when he couldn’t easily work out how much longer he was going to need to endure until he could go, and the anxiety always made his muscles tense up; Nerves inadvertently squeezing down onto his aching bladder.
    Courtney was worried as well. Had she known she was going to need to spend this extra time enduring a full bladder, she would have reconsidered her choice in drink size… There was nothing to do for it, though. She couldn’t go back in time and undo her mistake, she couldn’t do anything to make the road open up again. Just as she’d done so many times before, all she could do was hold it in and keep waiting.
    They stayed in the lobby of the event center, periodically checking their phones to see if the road had re-opened yet.  After 1 hour of waiting, Brandon occasionally caught his gaze drifting to the door of the men’s room as it continually swung open and shut. He wondered how all those guys could just be so… Okay with relieving themselves in a big room crowded full with other people. Didn’t they ever stop and think about how strange it was to unzip and expose oneself when all anyone would have to do would be to tilt their head over slightly to see EVERYTHING?! Didn’t they ever consider how humiliating it was to have the sound of their pee-stream echo for everyone to hear?
    Apparently not. Apparently, for most people, it never even crossed their mind to be embarrassed by doing something so utterly private where someone could easily see and overhear. As Brandon’s bladder sent a few more pangs through him, strong enough to leave him crossing his legs, he wished again that he could figure out what their secret was; How they could be so comfortable and relaxed about something so very embarrassing. He’d long ago given up on ever being able to understand it, he knew it would never ever be that easy for him. He knew that he would always have one choice and one choice alone; Holding it.
    After another hour, Courtney too was occasionally looking at the women’s room, and at the humongous line pouring out of it much like urine wanted desperately to pour from her bladder. Like Brandon, she couldn’t understand how all those women could just… Line up like that. Putting it on full display that they needed to pee. Everyone who walked by and saw that line knew every girl standing there had a full bladder and was about to go empty it. Didn’t that make them feel at least a little self-conscious? Courtney could never stand in line for a restroom. Even if all she’d intended to do in there was wash her hands, she’d know everyone would be THINKING about her going in there to pee.
    Several of the girls in the line were jiggling around, Courtney noticed, clearly very desperate to go, just like she was. But, unlike her, their relief was coming very soon. Courtney shifted her weight from foot to foot and tried not to think too hard about it. She turned back to Brandon. “Any updates?”
    Brandon looked at his phone and shook his head. “Still stuck,” he said, his hips twisting and turning even more than they had been when he’d danced with her during the concert. “I have to go SO bad…” he added in a whisper, worrying at his lip.
    “I know,” Courtney said. “I do, too…”
    Brandon winced as he saw the men’s room door bang open and shut yet again. He got a glimpse of the row of urinals, at the guys standing at them and easily letting it flow. God… How could they DO that? They were literally visible from the doorway, but they were still just… Peeing like it wasn’t a big deal at all! Brandon stomped his feet against the floor, the waistband of his pants was starting to feel way, WAY too tight. It was like it was a torture device specifically designed to squeeze the life out of his poor bladder. With trembling hands, he unbuttoned them and breathed out a small sigh of relief as the pressure slightly dissipated, like letting a puff of air out of an over-inflated balloon.
    Courtney saw him do this, of course. She’d known Brandon long enough to know that he always unbuttoned his pants when he was getting desperate for a toilet break. His bladder just seemed to need that extra tiny bit of space to expand. She saw the newly exposed skin there, she saw how taut it was, she saw the firm, little swell in his middle that meant he was achingly full of pee.
    Courtney knew she no doubt sported a similar bulge. She gripped the waist of her skirt and pried it away from her abdomen. This gave her a momentary respite from the harsh pressure still pounding against her tense sphincter, and gave her a view at the increasingly engorged situation taking place in her core. Where normally her stomach was flat, it was now beginning to curve into a tight ball. A tight ball that was only going to get bigger if she didn’t make it home soon.
    She bounced on her feet, but rather than alleviate her desperation, the action seemed to somehow only make it worse. Every time she lowered herself back to the ground, a pang of intense urgency would shoot into the soles of her feet, up through her legs, and then slam full force into her straining bladder like a hammer. Yet, even though her new pee-dance was only succeeding in making her even more uncomfortable, she couldn’t make herself stop. The needling, nagging need to MOVE would tingle through her right away if she ever tried to cease her frantic motions. “Now?” she asked.
    Brandon checked his phone, “Th—The road’s open again,” he said. “B—But it says traffic is really, really backed up…” His thighs tightened. He was used to driving on a full bladder, but it was never very fun. He needed to keep at least one hand on the wheel, leaving him with only one to use to plug up his ‘spigot’ and prevent it from leaking. He had to keep his foot angled to use the pedals, making it very hard to cross his legs. He was dreading the drive, but it was the only way to get back home; Back to relief. “You want to go ahead and try it?”
    Courtney nodded her head in definite agreement. None of it was going to get any better the longer they waited. The traffic would probably only worsen, and the urgency in her bladder DEFINITELY would. The urgency in her bladder was only GETTING worse now, every second it felt like her kidneys were rudely dumping another wave of urine into a container that couldn’t handle much more of it.
    Walking back to the car wasn’t easy for Courtney. Walking had always been one of the most difficult things for her to do while full. Crossing one’s legs while trying to walk in a straight line just wasn’t possible, and the impact of her feet on the ground never failed to shake her bladder like it was trapped in a catastrophic earthquake. Partway through the parking lot, her hands were pressed underneath herself, cupping against her crotch as tight as they could. She tried not to think about the long drive. She tried not to think about how much longer it was going to be now that traffic was so horrendously backed up.
    By the time they’d made it to the car, Brandon was squeezing himself tightly and his forehead was shining, wet with sweat. This was bad. This was VERY bad. He’d never begun such a long drive THIS full before. The knowledge that he was still miles and miles from home squeezed a fist of fear around his bulging bladder. He threw open the driver side door and climbed in, watching Courtney hurry in beside him. Brandon didn’t start the car immediately, just curled over on himself, holding his crotch with both of his hands as he fought to catch his breath. “Hfff… Hfff… I need to goooo…” he moaned.
    This was another thing Courtney had learned about Brandon. When he had to pee badly, he was VERY vocal about it. Or, at the very least, he sure was with her. His mouth never allowed there to be any illusion as to how urgently he had to get to the toilet. Then again, Courtney wasn’t really one to judge, because as soon as the car doors were closed, she was groaning as she jiggled in her seat. “I’m going to BURST. PLEASE drive fast!”
    Brandon slowly dragged himself from his hunched position and fumbled to start the car as he nodded. “I need to pee so bad…” he muttered as they pulled out of the parking lot and immediately into stalled traffic.
    “Ohhh,” Courtney cried out at the sight of it. Even though she’d known to expect the gridlock, the sight of it was just… devastating. Her bladder quivered within her, pee pulsing harshly against her sphincter, desperately trying to claw its way out of her body. Her feet spasmed, knocked against one another, and twitched in every direction against the ground. It was like she was trying to do a step-dance while sitting down.
    Eventually, she managed to tie her legs into a decently helpful knot, one that made it feel less like the urine inside her was about to push itself right out. Because, Courtney HAD to keep holding it. She couldn’t… She couldn’t do anything else. She couldn’t ask Brandon for a stop, and she most certainly couldn’t GO in front of him. She had to hold it, she HAD to. She had literally no choice.
    Brandon drummed the fingertips of one hand against the steering wheel as the other did its best to pinch his opening shut. He stared out the window at the miles of cars that stood between him and his badly needed relief. “Oh, I’m… God, this is bad…” he muttered. He looked to the little patches of foliage that surrounded the road. He knew that a lot of guys in his situation would just fling open the door of the car, duck behind a bush, whip it out and let it flow.
    But, Brandon couldn’t. Everyone in the other cars would know EXACTLY what he was doing back there, they’d know he was peeing. And worst of all, they’d know that he’d had to do it VERY badly if he was jumping out of car during stop-and-go traffic just to release his urine. They’d think ‘Oh, that guy’s going to pee, must have been a pretty awful emergency too.’ And, Courtney would see it too! She’d see him break, she’d see him scurry to the bushes, she’d think about how right then, at that very second, he was peeing… No. He couldn’t have that. He just couldn’t.
    Courtney, too, was looking out the window. In college, she remembered that after a night of drinking, one of her friends had been desperate for a pee on the way back to their dorm. She’d decided she wasn’t going to hold it a second longer, so had squatted down behind a bush and just… Let it out. Courtney had been surprised. She’d known guys would do stuff like that, but she’d never seen another woman do it. She was stunned that her friend was so willing to. She’d had to expose so much of her body, and the sound of her pee hissing and splashing into the dirt had been so loud and obvious. Even while under the influence of alcohol, Courtney absolutely would never be able to bring herself to do such a thing.
    Now, totally sober, there was even less of a chance that she could force herself to ‘water’ the bushes. It wasn’t possible. There were so many people here, all of them would see her hobble and fumble behind the bushes. They’d all be able to tell immediately what was going on, and the image of her squatting and gushing out a torrent would surely be the only thing they could think of. Even if they weren’t TRYING to think about it, she KNEW that it would pop into their heads anyway. And Brandon too… No. The bushes were NOT an option. So, Courtney simply squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her hands more firmly into her crotch, and clenched her thighs until they grew sore.
    The cars ahead of them finally started to pick up the pace and Brandon could have cried with relief when he was able to get them moving again. “Gotta pee…” he chanted softly to himself. “Gotta pee.. Gotta pee SO badly…” But, then he had to stop again and he very nearly DID tear up then. He moaned loudly, and tipped his head back to stare miserably at the ceiling, hand still kneading against his crotch. “I’m going to explode!” he babbled. “Courtney— Seriously, I— I don’t think I’ve ever had to go this bad in my life!”
    And that was saying a lot, because Brandon had been desperate a LOT. He looked to the car’s clock, it had been over 10 hours since his last pee. It had been beyond the time limit he and Courtney had settled on. It had been beyond the length of time they both knew they could manage free of pain. And, oh, Brandon was sure feeling some pain now… He felt a heinous pinching in his opening, a brimming, intense pressure in his bladder, the skin covering it felt like it was being stretched out unnaturally… When he glanced down, he was stunned by how swollen his abdomen was. He’d seen his bladder protrude lots of times, but never like that… It looked like a grapefruit was poking out of him.
    Courtney’s own bulge was of equal size, and it startled her that something like that could actually be inside of her body. She blinked rapidly as she looked at it, certain her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. But, they weren’t. That hard, swelling orb really WAS there. It really WAS a part of her.
    No wonder it hurt so much. No wonder it felt like her sphincter was being lit on fire. No wonder the pressure in her body was scorching and thrashing, and making her feel like she was going to actually explode. Not only did her bladder FEEL like it was going to burst, it LOOKED like it was about to burst right out of her, too. “I really, really, REALLY have to go…” she moaned.
    Brandon, of course, felt bad. And, he certainly could sympathize! Traffic continued to move at a snail’s pace, it would pick up speed for a few seconds making him think they were finally free, but then he’d have to slam on the breaks again. Every time he stopped, his seat-belt would contract and press into his bladder as if it was trying to squeeze out every last drop contained there. Every time he stopped, he would groan something barely coherent about how much he needed to release his urine.
    Judging by the squeaks and squeals that left Courtney’s lips every time they ground to a stop, he knew her seat-belt was not being any kinder to her. At one point, she finally just unclasped it, and Brandon didn’t have the heart to tell her to put it back on. Instead, he just followed her lead. He released his own seat-belt and for a split second, all he felt was relief as his bladder was suddenly granted a little more space. But, the sensation was so much like actually peeing that immediately, his legs were snapping together and he was bouncing up and down in his seat.
    Courtney stared out the window as they slowly crawled along, her bladder seared away inside her. Her opening felt like it was trembling as it fought to hold the tide at bay. She had to go so badly she swore it was going to drive her crazy. At one point, she saw a man leave his truck and head towards the bushes. She knew what he was on his way to go do, and since she knew it immediately, she was certain she’d made the right choice in not doing the same thing.
    3 hours later, when they began to pass by more familiar places, Courtney had drawn her feet up underneath herself, sitting on them and trying to press herself against them. She rocked in her seat, sweat running off her in waves. “I have to peeeee…” she kept mumbling. “I have to peeeee….”
    Brandon was squeezing his crotch so tightly that it hurt. It hurt pretty bad, at that. But, he couldn’t help it, if he let go, he would explode for sure. His hand NEEDED to stay right where it was, there was no other option. At long last, he pulled up to Courtney’s house, and watched through his watery eyes as she scrambled from the car.
    Just like always, Courtney did not offer him the restroom he so badly had to use. Just like always, Brandon did not ask for it. He just nodded to her, said a quick goodbye, and drove away as Courtney stumbled, half doubled over, into her home. She fumbled with her keys for a moment as she tried to get the door open, the shouts from her bladder getting louder and louder as it recognized how close it was to being released.
    Finally, the door was open and she rushed inside and directly to the restroom. She knew that it was strange since she lived by herself, but she always shut and locked the door when she used the toilet here. With that done, she ripped down her skirt and slammed herself onto the toilet seat, her aching sphincter giving out before she’d consciously told her body it was time to release.
    The only thing louder than the torrent that hissed out of her then was her moan of relief. “Ahhhhh….” That was the worst she’d had to go in a very, VERY long time, and consequently, this was the best she’d felt while peeing in a very, VERY long time as well. Her whole body was going loose, she felt like she was floating six feet through the air, and it just kept coming, just kept pouring, liquid slamming into the bowl for so long that her legs began to go numb.
    Once she was finished, she got herself up onto her wobbly feet and breathed out one more sigh. Now, her mind cleared, she thought that even with all the desperation she’d had to endure, the date had still been fun. And, the way it had ENDED had been great, it had NEVER felt that good just to pee before!
    Brandon, meanwhile, was doing his absolute best to get home, but his bladder was dying. His muscles were so sore, completely worn out after— he paused to check the clock— 14 hours without a break! He was so close to his home, but his heart was thundering away in his chest and he wasn’t sure if he could make it!
    It had gotten very late while they’d been stuck in that awful traffic jam. The streetlights were all on, the moon was high in the sky. And the residential roads he drove on now were totally deserted. No other cars, no one outside on the sidewalks. He was a few blocks from home when he passed by the entrance to the hiking trails and decided that he COULDN’T take this anymore. He had to GO, and no one was around to see or hear him do exactly that.
    He ripped off his seat-belt and dashed from the car, his hands already scrambling like mad with his zipper. A few steps into the wooded area, he’d gotten himself out and his pee was spurting violently into the dirt. “Ohhhh….” he sighed contentedly to himself.  He was peeing… Finally, finally he was peeing… So much better. And no one knew about it, either. No one had seen him rush back here with his hands over his crotch. No one could overhear his stream as it splashed into the dirt. He was perfectly alone, free to let it all go… He felt his poor bladder shrink and deflate back to its proper size, the aching swell inside him finally vanishing as he released his burden.
    After he was finally, blissfully empty and had zipped up, he stumbled back to his car. His legs were still weak after all of that. He glanced back and forth, confirmed to himself once more that no one had witnessed any of that, and continued on his way home.
    That hadn’t been what Brandon had been hoping for when he’d taken Courtney out today, but it hadn’t been too bad. It had ended with the absolutely beautiful sensation of total and complete relief, after all. That was good.
    Shy Couple 2 
    About a week after their long, desperate ride home, Courtney and Brandon were together again and the topic had turned to how badly both of their bladders had been aching that day. It had really solidified to both of them how strong their bladders must have actually been. Most people wouldn’t have been able to make it that whole drive. Most people would have either peed in their seats or given in and forced themselves to go with an audience. But not them. And when Brandon mentioned that, if Courtney had given up at any point, he knew that the sound of her stream would have caused his own pee to burst right out uncontrollably, Courtney assured him that she would never, ever pee in front of him; She just couldn’t do it. Brandon agreed, he would rather hold it until it hurt than do something that was supposed to private right out in public.
    That Friday, after finishing work, Brandon came home and relieved himself. He sighed softly. He, of course, had not gone all day and that pee had been just begging to come out. He was about to go to Courtney’s place, but waited a while before leaving. He wanted to make sure she had time to use the toilet before he got there, after all.
    He knew they’d both be holding it in for a while tonight, as they’d be spending it together for the first time. Brandon did have a plan, however. He’d simply go once Courtney was asleep. No need to worry about it.
    When he arrived at her home, Courtney was having similar thoughts. She’d peed 30 minutes ago and didn’t need to go again at all just yet. She knew she was going to need it eventually, though. She resolved to just hold it until later on in the night. She’d go to sleep for a bit, then when her bladder woke her and asked to be emptied, she knew Brandon would be asleep, so there wouldn’t be any reason that she couldn’t just go.
    It was a good plan, they both thought. It just… Didn’t actually end up working.
    They ordered a pizza and each had a few glasses of water to wash it down. They even got a little bold and had a couple beers for one of the first times in their lives, all of that liquid beginning to move through them. Neither had had experience with alcohol before, they didn’t know how it would affect them. They’d expected it to make them simply loosen up a bit and be more open— Maybe so open that the peeing thing wouldn’t even matter anymore.
    But, that didn’t happen. Instead, the alcohol just made them both sleepy. Very, VERY sleepy, in fact. In spite of his earlier plan to stay up until Courtney began to snore so that he could use the restroom unnoticed, Brandon was out cold as soon as he’d gotten into bed, and Courtney did the same just a few seconds later.
    Their dreams that night were troubled. Filled with images of cascading waterfalls, violently hissing rain, dripping sinks and roaring oceans. In Brandon’s dream, the watery labyrinth he’d found himself stuck in soon became too much and he did his best to find a restroom. He found one, but even though he’d been totally alone up until then, when he opened the door he discovered that the room was actually a packed auditorium. A single urinal was set up on the stage before a massive audience, and all their eyes turned to him as he turned swiftly and ran out. He had to hold it. Even though he BADLY needed to just go!
    In Courtney’s dream, she eventually managed to escape the waterfalls and lock herself into a restroom that had conveniently presented itself. She was about to lift her skirt and sit on the toilet when she looked above her head. There was a huge camera mounted on the ceiling, the sort of thing that recorded crystal clear, high quality footage for big budget films. She froze, staring at it in horror. What kind of sadist would put that there?! She left the restroom right away, her bladder only feeling fuller than it had a moment ago.
    Despite their vivid, desperate dreams and the way they began to toss and squirm around in bed, neither one actually woke up at any point. They slept through the night, their urges to pee growing more and more insistent.  And, when morning came and Courtney’s alarm went off, they woke at the exact same time.
    The plan had failed spectacularly.
    Brandon groggily began to slide out of bed. But, all of his remaining sleepiness evaporated instantaneously when his feet impacted against the floor. It was just a shame that the liquid in his bladder couldn’t have evaporated along with it. Immediately, he was pinching his urethral opening closed between his clenched hands, doubling over until he was basically folded in half. “Holy FUCK!” he exclaimed. His bladder… Holy… This was the kind of need to piss that didn’t mess around. This was the kind of need to piss that, had he been at home and alone to his blessed privacy, would send him crawling towards the toilet on his hands and knees as he begged his body to hang on just a few more seconds. The pressure inside his bladder now was like nothing he’d ever felt before, it was like a punishment from some malevolent and not at all forgiving God.
    Courtney hadn’t noticed Brandon’s distress yet, she was too caught up in her own agony. In her dream, she’d felt like an overfull water balloon that would explode and spray everywhere if poked too hard. But, here and now, in the waking world, it felt even worse than that. Nothing existed in the universe for her beyond the swirling vortex of pain that was her absolutely brimming bladder. She felt sharp, wicked pangs assail her urethra, her sphincter seeming to ignite in flame as it tightened well beyond what she’d ever thought humanly possible. “Ahhh—! Shit—!” she moaned, cupping herself tight as she danced from foot to foot. God… She needed a bathroom NOW.
    Her ordeal was nowhere near over, though. She would not be using the bathroom for a VERY long time. She looked at the clock, it had been close to 14 hours since she’d last urinated, and her next pee was still MANY hours away.  Because, she and Brandon were not parting ways just yet. They’d actually booked a trip for this weekend, and somehow the fact that their bladders were going to need draining during all that time had failed to cross their minds.
    Brandon remembered this now as well. He couldn’t pee NOW, and they had to catch a bus to get to their destination soon. He wasn’t going to be able to pee during that ride. They’d get to the hotel, and unless he could find a brief window of opportunity, relief would not come THEN, either.
    He couldn’t be expected to hang onto… THIS all weekend, could he? He’d be more pee than human by then! His bladder was already so full that it was protruding slightly outwards against his boxers, by the end of the weekend it would probably bloat so much that he wouldn’t be able to fit through doorways anymore!
    They could cancel it… But, no. They’d made the reservations, and they were expensive. The hotel didn’t do refunds. “We have to go,” Brandon said gently.
    “I KNOW,” Courtney moaned. “I have NEVER had to go THIS bad before!”
    That hadn’t really been what he’d meant… “I meant, on the trip. We have to go on the trip.”
    Courtney struggled to nod, “L—Let’s get dressed,” she said.
    Brandon fumbled a shirt on over his head, and winced as the bottom of it brushed very, very gently against the grapefruit sized swell straining in his core. Pulling his pants on was much worse, though. When he buttoned them, the added bit of pressure brought tears to his eyes. And then he ZIPPED them which was a horrific tease on his bladder. So many times in the past, when the sound of a zipper being moved hit his ears, that was a cue to his bladder that he was juuuust about to empty it. It swelled further and convulsed with confusion when a few seconds ticked slowly by and he was still forcing it to contain everything inside.
    Courtney struggled into her clothes as well. She deliberately picked things that she thought would give her bladder more room. No tight pants, and definitely no belts. She pulled on a simple, loose skirt, but even the un-constricting waistband of that garment made her bladder ache and shudder. As she pulled her shirt on, her knees buckled at a vicious, furious pang from within. She instinctively started to crouch down, as she would if she was about to empty her bladder outdoors— Something she had never actually done in her life. Her body was spasming wildly outside of her control, resorting to its most base instincts.
    They went into the front hall after that for shoes. Courtney had wanted to wear a new, fancy pair of sneakers she’d gotten, but the idea of bending down to lace them right now sounded like it would be even more painful than crawling through ten miles of broken glass. She chose to slide her feet into her flip-flops instead. She felt bad for Brandon. All he had were the shoes he’d worn when he’d come over yesterday; And those had laces.
    Brandon slipped his feet into them easily enough, but when he knelt to tie them his bladder contracted hard into itself. It felt like it was being twisted in every direction, felt like it was being squeezed and strained inside of a fruit juicer. Like his own body weight was doing everything it could to force all of his liquid out in one huge bursting gush.
    He didn’t release a drop, though. He COULDN’T release a drop. He had to hold it. He had to wait. He finally stood back up. “Ohhhh,” he grunted. “I— I feel like I’m going to explode. I mean like, actually, literally explode. This is the worst I’ve ever needed to go.”
    Courtney, bouncing and rocking as she headed out the door, could only nod. She couldn’t remember ever needing a toilet this badly in her life, either. And what shocked her the most was how her urge somehow kept getting worse! She’d thought that, surely, there had to be a plateau at some point. A moment at which it became physically impossible for her bladder to feel even more full even if there WAS more urine being forced to slosh around inside of it.
    They slowly made their way to the bus drop, dragging their swollen, rock-hard bladders the whole way. Brandon kept chanting to himself in a whisper; “I need to pee, I need to pee, I need to pee…” but even to himself the words sounded like an understatement. He’d ‘needed’ to pee last week in the car. He’d ‘needed’ to pee at the end of all those long bathroom-break-free days at work. He’d ‘needed’ to pee each day when he woke up and had to scurry to the toilet to unload everything that had built up over night.
    This, though. This wasn’t even a ‘need’ anymore, this was something that went way beyond that. This was a level of pain and agony that he could hardly believe a person could actually experience. If he’d felt this intense amount of hurt any other time, for any other reason, he’d be dialing for an ambulance, certain he must have been close to death.
    While they waited for the bus, they noticed people looking at them, noticed people staring at their frantic, urgent dancing. They both knew everyone around them could tell. Everyone around them was under no illusion that they were each carrying around gallons of unshed pee. Courtney just had to hope no one said anyth—
    An older woman approached them. She had a friendly smile on her wrinkled face, and Courtney knew she was only trying to help them out, but when she spoke the embarrassment made Courtney wish the ground would swallow her up anyway. “You know, if you two need a bathroom I bet I can convince the driver to wait a few extra minutes while you go. You have time.”
    Courtney shook her head, “N—No, that’s fine. We can wait,” she said. Her bladder sent her a furious pang, trying to argue how much IT didn’t WANT to wait.
    The woman looked at them dubiously, “Well… I think there’s a toilet on this bus,” she said. “I hope so anyway, it’s a long ride…”
    The bus arrived, and when Brandon and Courtney boarded they did see a little door in the back that likely housed a portable toilet. Neither made any move to go use it, of course. They just sat down on a seat and resumed their desperate wriggling. “I. Need. To. Go.” Brandon kept gritting out through his clenched teeth. “I. Need. To. Go. So. Freaking. Bad.”
    “It really hurts…” Courtney whimpered to him. It did, too. Her bladder was just so freaking swollen that the agony was making her dizzy. When the bus began to move, she felt every last little bump in the road. Every tiny pebble the wheels went over sent shocks of pain coursing through her body. It made her legs spasm and tangle and knot together. It made sweat bead down her face. It made her want to scream if only to give a physical voice to the shrieks constantly taking place inside of her.
    She stared out the window, trying to gauge how close they were to their destination. But, of course, she knew they’d only just started. They wouldn’t be arriving for ages. And, who knew how long after that she’d still have to hold on? She could not run straight to the women’s room in the hotel lobby no matter how much her bladder tried to convince her to. She could not immediately use the toilet in their room, either. Brandon would be there. The easy solution may have been to tell him to go wait outside the room, but that wasn’t any good either. He’d still know WHY she wanted him gone, he’d know she was going to pee. She couldn’t have that.
    “Ooooh,” Brandon moaned, flopping back in his seat as the bus went over a particularly large bump. His bladder felt like it was thrown right up into his throat before slamming back down into its proper place. “Gotta peeeeee… Please… Please… Hold it… Hold it… I need to go so bad…” He’d been gripping his crotch so tightly and for so long that it was starting to feel numb. His hands were practically magnetized to his dick, as if stuck their with the most powerful glue on Earth, and every other second his urethra would start burning and twitching and BEGGING him to please just let it relax for a minute! Please, please, just one minute! His bladder pleaded with him, wishing that he would just UNDERSTAND that his pee had to come out RIGHT now!
    He held it, though. He held it and held it and held it. When he saw someone else get up to use the toilet in the back, his bladder spasmed violently. No way did that man need to go as badly as Brandon did. Brandon should be the one using that bathroom now, not that other guy! Brandon should be in there, at this very second, releasing the biggest flood of his life. But… But, he just couldn’t! The bus was crowded! Everyone on it would see him stumble back there, everyone on it would know he was about to let out an entire ocean worth of piss… And, and if he got up NOW to go, he’d be locked outside the door of the restroom, waiting on that other guy to finish. He’d be bobbing and weaving and squeezing, pathetically writhing outside the door to a bathroom as everyone watched. And when the door finally opened, he was sure he’d lose all control and run inside like he was trying to escape a vicious bear, and everyone would see and KNOW how bad it was for him. He couldn’t. He absolutely couldn’t.
    Hold it.
    No other choice.
    The bus ride lasted around 5 hours, marking 19 hours since Brandon and Courtney had last given their exhausted sphincters a moment’s respite. The bus stopped fairly close to their hotel, which was good. They’d only brought one bag each, meaning they’d both have a free hand to grab themselves with, which was also good. When they got to the hotel, they went to check in, and that was less good.
    The man behind the counter looked at them. “Long ride?” he asked. “There are restrooms just over there,” he pointed off.
    Brandon blushed warmly. “J—Just the room, please…” he managed to choke out around the lump of embarrassment and agony in his throat. He was NOT going to use that restroom. Especially not since that guy could tell how much he needed it, it would be so much more humiliating now if he booked it to the toilet with that guy watching him. He had to hold it. He just HAD to.
    “Ah, alright,” the man said. At least he hadn’t pushed it… He handed Brandon the room key.
    Courtney and Brandon took the elevator up to their room, set down their bags, and used their now free hands to get better holds on their bladders. They tried hard NOT to look at the door to the restroom they both needed so badly to use. “What did you want to do?” Brandon asked finally.
    What Courtney most wanted to do now was pee. But, it was also what she most DIDN’T want to do with Brandon here! “Uh—Um… We could go eat?”
    “Sure,” Brandon said. “Food is… Is good…” he stumbled over his words. “Let’s— Oh my God, I need a freaking PISS— Let’s go.”
    They went to the closest restaurant to the hotel, neither one feeling up to taking a long walk when their bodies were already working overtime to restrain buckets of piss. While they ate, they didn’t shy away from drinking from their glasses of water. While their bladders may have been hydrated enough for an entire army, the rest of their body parts weren’t. They had head-aches, and their throats were scratchy and dry. So, even if they had a lot of liquid that wanted to come out, they knew they still had to put more in.
    Hopefully, by the time the new water finished pulsing through them, they’d have found a way to relieve themselves at least once. It had to end eventually, surely? They hadn’t peed in close to 20 hours now, it couldn’t last much longer. There must have been an end in sight…
    But, after they’d finished their meals and decided to go to the nearby beach, it didn’t seem that they were anywhere close to an end. At one point, Brandon actually left Courtney for a minute to go purchase a bottle of sunscreen from a kiosk. But, even left to her own devices for a little bit, Courtney still couldn’t use the opportunity to go pee.
    She saw the building that housed the beach’s restrooms and, more importantly, she saw the line stretching out of it. A line of people who would see her jiggling and jumping and twisting, so clearly dying for one of the toilets housed inside. And then, once she’d finally gotten to one, all of those people would hear it loud and clear when she released her stream into the bowl. They’d hear it hiss, they’d hear it splash, they’d hear her sigh with the relief of letting it go.
    Absolutely not.
    No matter HOW bad she needed a toilet, she couldn’t use any of the ones here. She shifted from foot to foot, her bare toes getting coated in sand as she hopped. Her bladder was stretching and twisting inside her, and she swore it seemed to be straining in the direction of the restrooms, as if trying to drag her there itself. Her hands pressed even tighter against her pee-hole as she tried to remind it of who was really in charge.
    Brandon, meanwhile, had gotten the sunscreen. He was grateful the man selling it hadn’t chosen to point out the restrooms to him, although he knew his desperation must have been clear as day. He could hear the roaring ocean splashing against the beach, and it reminded him of the tortuous dream he’d had before. The beach had been a bad idea… But, the only reason they’d come here to BEGIN with was to go to the beach, all of this would have been a waste if they didn’t visit it.
    Still, his eyes remained fixed on the lapping waves, the liquid in his bladder feeling as though it was moving in time with them. When the waves went up, his bladder lurched alongside them. “Ohh… Gotta go…” he mumbled quietly in his misery. People… People peed in water all the time. And, he knew, all the fish in the ocean were definitely peeing in it, too… It would feel so good to run into the ocean, get to a point where the water covered his waist and just… Let go.
    But, with as much as he was holding back, he knew the change in temperature to the water would be easily noticed. And, he doubted he’d be able to bite down his moans of relief as his pee flowed out. It would be obvious someone had peed in the water, and it would be obvious that Brandon had been the culprit. He couldn’t do it. He had to keep waiting.
    He returned to Courtney with the sunscreen and they helped each other put it on. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world as neither of them could hold still for even half a second anymore. The ways their bodies moved was no longer within their control. All of their control had to go towards their bladders, and on willing them to stay shut. As Courtney rubbed sunscreen into Brandon’s back, he kept jumping around and bending over and whimpering “I need to go, I need to go!”
    When Brandon did the same for Courtney, she nearly fell to her knees as she moaned “I’m going to burst!” Her bladder hurt so much. Everything below her waist hurt, actually. Her legs were sore from how tense she’d forced them to be all day. Her feet ached from all the times Brandon had accidentally stepped on her bare toes while bouncing his knees. Her urethra stung and burned with all the effort it was being forced to exert. She could hardly believe this amount of agony was physically possible to endure.
    But, endure it she did, because in her mind she had no choice.
    They stayed at the beach for a while, watching the waves as they’d planned to do before, back when they hadn’t been thinking about how painfully desperate they would both likely be. Every so often, one of them would comment to the other about the severity of their need. “It feels like there’s pee all the way up to my throat…” Brandon groaned.
    “I feel it everywhere,” Courtney said. “My back hurts, my legs hurt, my chest hurts… I feel like I’m drowning in it.”
    After an hour, they decided to go back to the hotel. They were both totally exhausted, even though they’d barely really done anything today. Amazing how big of a workout they’d managed to get when they’d been sitting down for most of the day’s activities. Courtney noticed the guy at the hotel lobby’s front desk staring at them as they hobbled to the elevator instead of the bathrooms they obviously had to use.
    Once in their room, Courtney sat on the bed and shoved her hands firmly against herself, bouncing and bouncing and bouncing. Holding herself didn’t help anymore, though. Neither did squirming. Nothing helped. Nothing made the intense, physical strain inside her feel any less painful now. Again, she was shocked it had actually gotten worse. But, when she looked down at herself she could tell why; The bulge in her center had grown over the course of the day, protruding outwards like she had a beer gut.
    When she looked over at Brandon, his hands digging against his crotch as he performed a stationary march in one corner of the room, she could see that his middle was just as swollen as hers. So much liquid, and he hadn’t been able to release a drop of it! “I need to pee….” he chanted, those were quickly becoming the only words he knew how to say. “I need to pee! I need to peeeeee!”
    A horrific agony shot through his back, reverberating just below his rib-cage. He’d never felt anything like that before in his life. It was like his body was trying to find any empty crevice it could to shove more urine into, the pressure filling him up absolutely everywhere, and he just had to go. He had to go so much. He had to go so, so, so—
    It didn’t register to him that his phone had begun to ring until Courtney pointed it out to him. Painfully, he removed one hand from the vice grip it still had over his crotch and retrieved the phone from his pocket. He saw that the person calling was Veronica, one of his other friends. And since it was Veronica, he knew he had to take this call outside of the room; Veronica was helping him prepare a surprise for Courtney for Valentine’s day, and he didn’t want it being ruined by her overhearing. “O—One minute,” he said to Courtney as he stumbled back out into the hallway.
    Courtney watched him leave, waited for several seconds to make sure he’d be gone long enough, then bolted for the restroom. She could go now! She could finally actually go now! She slammed the door shut, clicked the lock closed, lifted her skirt and launched herself onto the seat.
    One thing she’d learned about herself was that, when she was super, super desperate to pee— A thing that happened to her pretty often— it would take a moment for her body to register that she was on the toilet and finally ready to go. These last few seconds tended to be the worst, she was so eager for her ordeal to be over and she hated that her body made it last even a tiny bit longer.
    Her bladder finally did give out, however. There was no gentle beginning to her stream, no slow starting dribble, no first few drops. As soon as she was going, she was REALLY going; Her stream was blasting out of her with a such a loud hiss it echoed in the small room. “Ahhhh…” she gasped, overcome by the relief as 22 hours of suffering came to an abrupt and extremely pleasant stop.
    Her pain was instantly replaced by pleasure, her agony pushed to the side by euphoria. She was peeing, and she never ever wanted to stop. She wanted this beautiful, sweet, oh so satisfying feeling to last forever. She wanted to feel this way for the rest of her life— For the rest of eternity, even. It just felt so good she barely knew what to do with herself, she just sat there and shuddered and moaned as her body experienced shockwave after shockwave of delight.
    It did stop eventually, of course. Her bladder was not bottomless, her stream had to have an end. She sat there for a few more seconds as she tried to catch her breath, her eyes slowly peeling back open when she finally stood. Standing was so easy now. Everything was so easy now. Her middle was flat again, no longer bloated and quivering with need. It was over…
    She stumbled back into the main room a few seconds later and collapsed onto the bed. She was so tired out after the longest hold of her life.
    Meanwhile, Brandon was stumbling through the hall, one hand clamped around his crotch and the other clasping his phone to his ear. “O—Okay,” he stammered. “S—Sounds like you have everything worked out, right?”
    “Yeah,” Veronica said. “Are YOU okay? Your voice sounds weird.”
    “I—I’m great,” Brandon said. “I haven’t pissed in 22 hours and I’ve never felt better in my life!”
    Veronica went quiet. “Um… Wow… Did you say 22 hours?”
    “Y—Yeah,” Brandon said. His eyes were bouncing around in all directions. He didn’t see anyone in this hall. No one around to witness his squirming and jiggling and writhing. “S—So, anyway. The flowers are gonna be delivered to your place, I’ll c—come pick ‘em up on Valentine’s day. Y—You just…” He trailed off. He’d been pacing up and down this hallway for several minutes, but now he’d noticed something very important; There was a door with a sign containing pink and blue stick figures right there… One glance at the door knob told him it was meant for a single user and would lock. He looked back and forth again, confirming once more that no one was out here but him.
    There was a restroom RIGHT there, and he could USE it. Good God, how he wanted to use it!
    “Brandon…?” Veronica asked
    “Yeah, you just make sure t—to water the flowers before I come get them,” Brandon said (And, wow, could he ‘water’ the Hell out of some flowers right now…) “Th—Thanks for helping."
    “You’re welcome,” Veronica said. “Bye.”
    As soon as he was off the phone, Brandon shoved open the door to the restroom and slammed the lock into place. He did not dare turn around and look at the toilet, not yet. Not until his zipper was DOWN and nothing was in the way of what was sure to be a ridiculously fierce stream of urine.
    He fumbled the button on his pants apart, beginning to pant with relief already as a little of the pressure faded. He yanked his zipper down and freed himself. Then, he turned and rushed over to the toilet. He was already peeing a couple steps away from it, but apart from a small splash hitting the rim of the bowl, that was fine. Everything was fine now. Everything was so wonderfully fine now because he could LET GO and RELAX. “Hahhhhh…” he moaned, his head tilting backwards as his mouth hung open. His pee flowed so hard into the water in the bowl that some of it splashed back at him, but he couldn’t care about that. He couldn’t care about anything. He felt too good to care.
    It had never, in all his life, felt this amazing to urinate. He’d had a lot of ridiculously relieving pees in his past, but this topped them all by far. He felt like he could float away at any second, he felt so light, he felt so, so good…
    He peed for a very long time— Of course he had, he’d been holding that in for almost an entire day, after all— When his stream finally dwindled away, he stayed right where he was. He wanted to make sure it was really all out of him. He didn’t know when he’d next have the chance to go again. Sure enough, a couple last little spurts dribbled out, and then he was well and truly emptied.
    He stumbled backwards as he zipped up and gave one last relaxed moan.
    A few minutes later, he was back in the hotel room with Courtney. He could tell she’d used the toilet while he’d been out, and she could tell he’d relieved himself somewhere before coming back. Neither acknowledged it though. Neither asked if the other felt better, it was already so obvious that they did.
    No need to talk about it and make anyone feel self-conscious.
  22. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Ms. Tito in My Commission Thread   
    Another from the same series. 
    *** 
    Vegeta understood the need for him to be on this trip; Bulma was winning an award for one of her inventions, of COURSE Vegeta had to be there to watch her accept it. He WANTED to be there to see her accept it, he was proud of her!
    What he didn’t understand at ALL was why Kakarot had to be here too. None of their other friends were tagging along, JUST Kakarot. What he understood even LESS were the sleeping arrangements at the hotel.
    “I’m going to be up all night rehearsing my speech,” Bulma said. “And, the last time I did something like that, you were in a terrible mood all day from being kept awake. So, this time, it’s best if we don’t share a room.”
    Okay. Fine. That was all well and good. Vegeta could definitely remember the last time Bulma had kept him awake until morning, it had been aggravating and he’d spent the entirety of the next day snapping at everyone and everything… Even more than he usually did! And, while he’d grown accustomed to sleeping beside Bulma, he could manage being alone for one night.
    Except, as it turned out, he wasn’t going to be alone.
    “Why the Hell do I have to share a room with Kakarot?!” Vegeta demanded once it was all explained to him. He couldn’t make sense of it! It wasn’t as though Bulma couldn’t AFFORD three separate hotel rooms!
    “What’s the big deal?” Bulma asked. “You and Goku have slept in the same room before.”
    “Well, I didn’t have a choice those times!”
    “You don’t have a choice THIS time,” Bulma said.
    “I do. Just get Kakarot his own room.”
    But, Bulma had just shaken her head, and made some comment about Vegeta’s Saiyan hearing, and how Kakarot ‘might be useful’ to him once they got there.
    Vegeta had no idea what THAT was supposed to mean, and made it VERY clear that he didn’t approve of this.
    Goku, on the other hand, understood it all right away, especially after Bulma told him Vegeta had never stayed at a hotel before and likely wasn’t picturing it accurately. Goku WAS familiar with hotels, he knew that they could sometimes be noisy. He knew that, with the strong ears of a Saiyan, it was easy to overhear people in other rooms.
    Goku also knew that Vegeta struggled to accomplish certain, important things if he could hear people talking or moving around near him.
    “Oh, okay. Yeah, I get why you want me to come,” Goku said.
    “Well, I DO want you to hear my speech too,” Bulma said. “I’m not JUST inviting you so you can help Vegeta with his… ‘Thing’ if any problems come up.”
    “I will help, though,” Goku assured. “Don’t worry— Worst case scenario, I should at least be able to teleport him somewhere that he’ll feel more comfortable.”
    “Thank you,” Bulma said, relieved. “That’s one less thing to worry about. And, I know I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but don’t let Vegeta find out why you guys are sharing a room.”
    “I won’t.”
    ***
    The day they left on their trip, both Vegeta and Kakarot groaned when Bulma insisted they drive so they could all go together. “Just allow me to teach you how to fly!” Vegeta complained. “It’s so much faster, and there are way fewer idiots up in the sky than there are on the road!”
    “No, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “The only way I’m leaving the ground is if I’m in a plane, you KNOW this.”
    “I could just use instant transmission!” Kakarot offered. “You said your parents are already there, so I only have to find their chi. I’ll have us there in half a second!”
    “I can’t believe I’m saying, but I agree with Kakarot,” Vegeta said, surprised that his rival seemed to share his dislike of cars.
    “I want to drive,” Bulma said. “It will give me time to think over my speech, decide if I want to change anything.”
    “Then let US fly,” Vegeta suggested.
    “I’m the one with all the check-in information,” Bulma said. “And, I don’t want to know what kind of trouble will be caused by the two of you getting bored inside this hotel.”
    “What’s the worst that could happen?” Vegeta scoffed.
    Bulma sighed, “It has an all-you-can-eat buffet,” she stated.
    “One that I’m not banned from yet?!” Kakarot asked, getting excited.
    Vegeta groaned.
    “Case closed,” Bulma said. “Get in the car.”
    Vegeta and Kakarot grumbled as they did as they’d been asked. Vegeta had no idea what Kakarot had against car rides. Vegeta knew why HE hated them; They were slow, having to wait for other cars was infuriating, and when other drivers failed to obey the rules of the road he was enraged. But, Kakarot was okay with taking it easy sometimes, the speed shouldn’t bother him too much, and he doubted Kakarot got that angry at other drivers, either. It just wasn’t in his nature to go into a spitting, blind fury because someone had cut him off.
    It didn’t take Vegeta too long to find out why Kakarot didn’t like riding in cars, though. And, recalling the misery of the drive to Trunks’s parent-teacher conference, Vegeta was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him. Kakarot’s bladder was FAR smaller than Vegeta’s, and he’d be feeling the bumps in the road and the pressure of his seat-belt just as strongly. And, with someone else driving, he couldn’t stop whenever and wherever he wanted to.
    When he heard Kakarot start to whine, “Bulma! You gotta pull over! Now!” everything clicked. Kakarot didn’t like long drives because he wasn’t able to hold it through them.
    He chose to announce his need for the restroom while they were on a barren road, though. Nowhere to stop. Not even any foliage to pee behind, as Kakarot so often did.
    “I can’t right now, Goku,” Bulma said. “You should have said something when we passed that gas station a while ago.”
    “I didn’t have to pee then!” Kakarot complained. “Just pull over, let me go here!”
    “No,” Bulma said. “There’s nowhere for you TO go.”
    “I can just do it in the dirt, come on!”
    “There are other cars out here, somebody might spot you.”
    “So?” Kakarot asked, shifting his legs back and forth and tapping his feet.
    “You could get in trouble,” Bulma said. “I had to pay ENOUGH of those fines for you when you were little.”
    Vegeta quirked a brow. “Fines?”
    “For public urination,” Bulma explained. “I’m not letting him get ANOTHER of those today.”
    Vegeta was still perplexed. With as often as Kakarot peed outside, if that resulted in a fine on this planet, then Kakarot should be completely broke by now. As the notion settled in his thoughts further, a buzzing formed in his chest. HE peed outdoors sometimes, if it was absolutely necessary and he was sure no one could spot him. But, if there was a chance he’d be FINED for that… Money was no issue for him, but the utter embarrassment of it all was a completely different story.
    He glared out the car window. Just fantastic, a new thing to worry about!
    “Come ooooon,” Kakarot pleaded. “There aren’t any police around here, so who’s gonna give me a fine?!”
    Vegeta relaxed a bit. Not only would someone have to SEE him for him to be fined— Meaning that he wouldn’t have been able to pee at all to begin with— that person would also need to be a member of the police. He would NOT be publicly humiliated the next time he needed to relieve himself in the woods.
    “Hold it, Goku,” Bulma said. “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”
    Kakarot kept shifting and wriggling, “But, Bulma! It’s gonna come out!”
    “I’m sure there will be a place to stop soon,” Bulma told him. “If… If there’s not one in half an hour, then you can go outside. How’s that? The longest you’ll have to wait is just thirty more minutes.”
    “Okay, deal!” Kakarot said.
    “Don’t barter with that idiot,” Vegeta scolded. “It’s his own fault that he needs to go so badly. He should have done it earlier, as you said.”
    “Vegetaaa,” Kakarot whined. “I didn’t have to go then! I— Ah!” He made a pained, wincing noise as the car hit over a bump and evidently gave an awful jolt to his full bladder.
    That lurch was also responsible for bringing the first few thrums of need from Vegeta’s bladder to his attention. The feeling faded after a few seconds, but Vegeta was aware now that he wasn’t empty, that he was starting to re-fill after the pee he’d taken right before they’d left. And that, unlike Kakarot, going on the side of the road in thirty minutes wasn’t an option. Nor would he be able to make use of a gas station if they stopped at one. All he could do was hold it in until they got to the hotel.
    He had no doubt that he’d be able to pee at the hotel. Bulma had explained to him what it would be like, and that it would be similar to his room at home. Since he could easily relieve himself THERE, then the hotel should be fine, too. His only worry was actually GETTING there before his bladder started to hurt him— Before his urge got bad enough that he was fidgeting around like the imbecile in the backseat.
    Kakarot kept squirming, when Vegeta glanced back at him, he had folded in half and grabbed ahold of himself. Vegeta couldn’t fight the blush that emerged as he watched, and he quickly faced back in the other direction.
    The next time he looked at Kakarot, he was putting his fingers against his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. “Are you trying to use instant transmission…?” He asked.
    “Yes!” Kakarot whined, bouncing in his seat. “But, I can’t concentrate!”
    “Goku, come on,” Bulma sighed. “It’s just a few more minutes.”
    Vegeta wished that he hadn’t, but he noticed the distinct differences between how Bulma treated him and how she treated Kakarot in this kind of situation. Any time Vegeta managed to tell her that he needed to go while they were out together— or he failed to keep his squirming subtle enough and she realized his bladder was full on her own— she didn’t respond to him like this. She NEVER groaned and told him to just hold it, nor did she tell him he should have relieved himself earlier. Instead, she’d encourage him to pee right away wherever they were, and when he inevitably refused and insisted he needed to go home, she would nod and allow him to do so.
    And, he NEVER begged and pleaded like Kakarot was doing. He’d just stammer and mumble the vaguest acknowledgement of his need that he could, and Bulma would let him go. Kakarot was acting FAR more desperate than Vegeta would EVER be able to allow himself to, but Bulma was just rolling her eyes and telling him to be patient.
    Vegeta shifted uncomfortably as he thought that over. Bulma was being far gentler with him, basically coddling him because of how awful his Problem was. Of course, he didn’t WANT Bulma to scold him or forbid him from flying home when he desperately needed to, but the realization that she was adjusting her behavior because he needed to be ‘accommodated’ stung. He wasn’t supposed to need special treatment over something as simple as pissing.
    ‘She only treats you differently because you’re married,’ Vegeta told himself. ‘It has nothing to do with your Problem. She just favors you over Kakarot— Like EVERYONE should!’ He knew that wasn’t it, though… Or at least, not ALL of it.
    They found a gas station eventually, and Vegeta watched Kakarot sprint out of the car, his hands between his legs the whole time he was running. Vegeta’s face burned with a confusing amount of embarrassment, HE wasn’t the one blatantly behaving like a fool… He wasn’t even getting out of the car. He had no reason to.
    Once Kakarot had entered the restroom, Vegeta found that he had to try VERY hard not to think about what his rival was doing in there. Vegeta’s own bladder was cramping quite a bit more now, and the knowledge that Kakarot was now accomplishing yet ANOTHER thing that Vegeta was incapable of was making the pressure hurt worse. He tried not to think about how relieved Kakarot must have been feeling, tried not to let the familiar grip of envy take hold of him once more— Not over something so STUPID!
    He shifted his legs just slightly, moving one ankle over the other. His gaze flew to Bulma beside him, and he relaxed a bit when she didn’t appear to be watching him. But, now his insides were demanding him to KEEP moving. Now that he’d allowed himself to squirm a little, he wanted to do it more…
    He gripped his knees to prevent them from bouncing, and hoped they weren’t THAT far from the hotel.
    Kakarot came back, and the moron was carrying some massive soda cups for some idiotic reason. “Vegeta, you gotta try this,” Kakarot said once he got back in the car. “It’s so good!”
    “Kakarot, after all that bitching and moaning you did about needing to piss, why the Hell would you drink so much?!”
    “Why not? It isn’t like I still have to pee now,” Goku shrugged.
    “But, if you drink ALL of that, then you’re just going to—“
    “And, besides, one of them is for you, or Bulma… Whichever one of you wants it.”
    Vegeta sighed as he accepted the cup. It was so big… The only way Vegeta would ever drink THAT much would be if he was at home and knew he wouldn’t have any reason to leave for the next several hours. No way was he drinking it when he was stuck in a car with no idea as to when they’d reach the hotel.
    Kakarot was noisily slurping from his cup, and it was getting on Vegeta’s nerves. The tingles in his midsection fluttered a little more violently as he was subjected to the sound. His urge for relief was worsening— And, even more aggravating than that, it was making him feel thirsty. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet today— A necessary precaution for a long trip like this. Now, his throat was painfully dry.
    The full soda cup resting beside him was extremely tempting, and the more he had to listen to Kakarot drink, the worse he felt.
    ‘One sip…’ Vegeta commanded himself. ‘Just ONE. Enough to get rid of that sand-paper feeling— Nothing more.’
    He reached for the cup and took a small, deeply hesitant sip. He knew that a few drops of soda would not be enough to break his bladder, but he was so timid about putting ANY liquid into himself when he’d have no way to get it back out again. When the fluid wetted his tongue, erasing the chalky sensation there, he felt a bit better. He really WAS thirsty…
    And, dammit, Kakarot was right! This soda DID taste amazing. He swallowed, and immediately had the urge to drink more. ‘No. No more,’ he thought. ‘A good warrior must be capable of restraint!’
    Kakarot kept drinking, loudly…
    Vegeta managed to ignore the soda for a few more minutes. It wasn’t easy. Now that he’d had ONE sip of something cold and wet, it was like he’d activated all of the nerve-endings in his throat and he was even MORE aware of how dehydrated he was. One, tiny sip hadn’t quenched his thirst, but had instead made it much worse.
    Eventually, the dry feeling got to be too much, and he took another sip. Fuck, it was delicious, and it felt so good pouring down his throat… Just a LITTLE bit more shouldn’t hurt, right? Just— Just a couple more swallows, just until his tongue stopped feeling so withered.
    ***
    ‘DAMMIT!’ Vegeta thought a little while later, when he realized he’d finished the entire cup. He certainly wasn’t thirsty anymore… But, he couldn’t take much relief in that, since he knew where all of that liquid was now heading, about to flood into a container that didn’t have a properly functional exit…
    His urge to pee had gotten a bit worse, it still wasn’t horrific or agonizing, but he could no longer ignore it, especially not with the knowledge of how much he’d just had to drink. He knew he had to stop thinking about it, concentrating on his bladder would just invite it to fill up faster. He was so frustrated with himself, though. How could he have allowed himself to drink all that, when he KNEW full well how badly it would turn out for him?!
    ‘Stupid Kakarot, why’d he have to give me this anyway?!’
    Speaking of Kakarot, the fool had finished his OWN soda ages ago, and was once again shuffling around in the backseat and pleading for a stop.
    Finally, to placate him, Bulma said something that instantly made Vegeta feel better. “We’re ALMOST at the hotel, Goku. Could you please hold on until then?”
    “Mmmmf, I’ll try!” Kakarot whined. “But, I have to go so bad!”
    Vegeta relaxed slightly. They were close to the hotel, and he had no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to pee there. They’d arrive, and he’d be able to take care of himself easily, with no one else needing to know about it.
    “Hold it in, Goku,” Bulma sighed. “You can do it.”
    “H—How much longer?” Kakarot asked, and Vegeta heard him squirming a little faster.
    “Thirty minutes,” Bulma said. “Alright? It won’t be that bad, I promise.”
    “Th—Thirty minutes,” Kakarot repeated. “Okay, okay… I think I can do thirty minutes.”
    Vegeta calmed down a bit more. HE could DEFINITELY do thirty minutes. He shifted a little in his seat when he remembered he and Kakarot were going to be sharing a room— Of course, he would have to let Kakarot go first. The idiot was about to piss his pants, after all. And, if Vegeta asked to take the first turn, that would be an admission that he was desperate— Such admissions were not permitted, and he WASN’T desperate!
    Not really, anyway. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to release his bladder, and his thighs were pressed a bit tightly together… And, yeah, maybe his legs were starting to shake a little, and he had to keep gripping his knees to keep them from bouncing. But, he was fine. He knew he could hold WAY more than this. He was fine.
    Thirty more minutes…
    When they finally got to the hotel, Vegeta had sweat on his brow, and he was constantly gripping his knees to force his legs to stay still. He was hyper-aware of Bulma beside him, and in spite of how much energy he was putting towards keeping himself still, he was convinced that he was SOMEHOW being obvious anyway, and that Bulma could easily tell that his bladder was throbbing urgently.
    Standing up for the first time in several hours was unpleasant. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought scornfully when his knees tried to buckle. ‘It’s just standing!’ But, his bladder was protesting loudly, and he felt like if he didn’t balance his weight JUST right, he’d end up doubling over and Bulma would know everything.
    “Mmmf!” Kakarot whimpered as he got out of the car. He was ALREADY doubling over, pitiful fool that he was… Vegeta felt his eyelid spasm when he saw Kakarot start to spring across the parking lot, over to a tree.
    No.
    Hell no.
    If… If Vegeta had to hold it, then so did Kakarot!
    “What are you doing, you moron?!”
    Kakarot looked back over his shoulder.
    “Goku, no!” Bulma scolded him. “Wait until we’re inside.”
    Kakarot anxiously stopped what he was doing and just continued to squirm as they entered the hotel. Vegeta tried to stay as far away from Kakarot as Bulma handled everything to get them checked in. Kakarot was being so… So OBVIOUS. Even if he would shut the HELL up and stop whining to Bulma about how much he had to pee, his constant fidgeting and bouncing would still be enough!
    How could Kakarot stand to ACT that way in public? Vegeta felt disgraced and ashamed if he squirmed that blatantly when he was ALONE! Vegeta was feeling himself burn up just watching Kakarot fidget. The embarrassment of being seen NEAR him when he was acting like this was almost as bad as if Vegeta had been the one dancing around like a complete imbecile.
    “Why isn’t there a bathroom in the lobby?” Kakarot complained as he paced in place beside Bulma. “That’s not fair.”
    Vegeta groaned and tried to act as though he’d never seen Kakarot before in his entire life. Without his notice, his foot had begun to tap with impatience. Yes. Impatience. And nothing else…
    He was also becoming aware of something else. His body was coming alive, and he could sense a ton of unfamiliar chi signals here. He knew he ought to have expected that, other people would be staying in this hotel too. But, since he couldn’t STOP sensing that energy, it was a little annoying. Distracting. He hoped the sensation wouldn’t keep him awake tonight.
    “Okay,” Bulma said, turning to Kakarot. “This is for yours and Vegeta’s r—“
    Kakarot grabbed the key out of her hand, “Vegeta, come on! Hurry!”
    Vegeta sighed and started to follow Kakarot, but stopped him when they reached the elevator. “No, Kakarot. We’re taking the stairs.”
    Kakarot looked at him as if he were being tortured… Which he kind of was. “What?! No, Vegeta! If you wanna race me up the stairs, I can’t do that right n—“
    “That’s not the reason,” Vegeta said. “I just highly doubt your ability to hold still in there. And, if you tap your foot as hard as you’ve BEEN doing it, you’ll break the elevator. And there are few things I want LESS than to be stuck in an elevator with YOU when you’re about to piss yourself.” His bladder pinched and his tip flared, reminding him that being stuck in an elevator would be a miserable time for him for a LOT of reasons. He shifted, very slightly, trying to calm the thrashing inside him.
    “Well, if the elevator gets stuck, we can blast our way out,” Kakarot reasoned.
    “Bulma will kill us,” Vegeta said. “Just walk up the stairs. I know you’re capable of that.”
    Kakarot’s eyes were watering, “But, I might… You know…” Kakarot was actually blushing… That was… Weird to see.
    “You won’t,” Vegeta groaned. “Now, come on.”
    Kakarot whimpered and complained the whole way up the stairs. His teeth were gritting, he was dragging his feet, and pausing every couple steps to jiggle around and take some stabilizing breaths. Vegeta actually… Slowed his pace a little. Not out of ‘concern’ or any asinine feeling like that, but merely because… Well, it would reflect poorly on ALL Saiyans if Kakarot pissed himself in public. That was all.
    They got to their room. Kakarot’s hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t unlock the door. He dropped the key a few times, and Vegeta had to try very hard not to let out a laugh that would have surely sent his own bladder into spasms. But, once Kakarot started to position his hands as if he were about to BLAST the door open, Vegeta had to step in.
    “Let ME do it, incompetent clown…” Vegeta grumbled, unlocking the door for him.
    “Thank you!” Kakarot exclaimed, rushing in.
    Vegeta stepped in after him, and there were problems.
    First, the idiot hadn’t bothered shutting the door to the restroom, so Vegeta had to quickly turn away to avoid having to watch him piss. Second, Kakarot was being so damned loud. His stream was gushing out with an ear-splitting hiss, and the fool was moaning his head off, too. Vegeta’s bladder gave a cramping lurch at the noises, and without meaning to, he started to bounce on his toes.
    He stepped further into the room in an attempt to escape that obnoxious sound, and was met with another, even worse problem.
    One bed.
    WHAT?! Bulma had ASSURED him that they would at least have separate beds! He was going to have to convince Kakarot to sleep on the floor again.
    And he could STILL hear the idiot pissing! Why did he have to gasp and pant and sigh so much?! Vegeta kicked off his boots and laid down on the bed, he turned on his side and covered his ears because… Because that sound was just so ANNOYING. That was it! And… And his thighs were just tensing up because he was THAT annoyed, yeah! His legs were only trying to cross because of how much Kakarot was irritating him.
    Kakarot finished after a few more seconds. Vegeta rolled his eyes when the fool exited the restroom without washing his hands off— Another reason to make Kakarot stay on the floor tonight, he had atrocious hygiene.
    “Oh, man…” Kakarot said. “That’s a lot better.”
    Vegeta sat up, thought his legs looked a little TOO close together, and forced them to inch outwards until he was sure it didn’t look like he had to pee at all. His spine shuddered when the next spasm went through him. “Fantastic, Kakarot,” he sighed, gesturing to the bed. “We have bigger problems right now.”
    Kakarot looked at him for a second, confusion etched on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry, Vegeta!” He said finally.
    “Yeah, you’re gonna have to sleep on th—“
    “I didn’t realize you had to go, too! I shoulda shut the door to muffle the sound just now, huh?”
    Vegeta twitched. How— How could he tell?! How could he ALWAYS tell?! Vegeta looked down at himself, he didn’t think he looked tense… Well, not any tenser than usual, anyway. “I— Kakarot, I’m referring to the BED.”
    Kakarot looked at it. “What about it?”
    “There’s only one,” Vegeta said.
    Kakarot shrugged, “Yeah, but it’s a big bed. We’ll both fit.”
    “That isn’t the point.”
    “… What IS the point, then?”
    “The point is that I don’t WANT to sleep with you.”
    “We’ve slept near each other before,” Kakarot said. “What’s the big deal?” He glanced at Vegeta again. “You need to use the restroom…”
    Why did he have to say that so loudly?! Or at all?! “Kakarot, shut up about that—“
    “Um…” Kakarot trailed off. “Hmm… So, what will work best for you here? I could go back downstairs for a bit, so you’ll have lots of privacy. Oh, and I’ll go to the buffet, so I won’t even be THINKING about what you’re doing in here.”
    Vegeta decided that probably WOULD be the easiest way to handle this. Sure, he could pee around Kakarot, but it was still easiest if he was by himself. He was going to be alone, so he wouldn’t NEED Kakarot to keep watch for him, or… Say anything. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t get banned from the buffet.”
    “No promises,” Kakarot said. “But, I’ll try.”
    That was probably the best Vegeta could ask for.
    Once Kakarot had left, Vegeta stepped into the restroom. He locked the door. He was surprised by the state of the toilet, Kakarot’s aim wasn’t AS bad as he’d thought it would be. He readied himself to go, and… Nothing.
    He didn’t get too worried, though. It ALWAYS took a couple minutes. He had expected this. What he hadn’t expected was to STILL be feeling all those unfamiliar chis inside the hotel, and for that to make him continually grow tense rather than start to loosen up.
    ‘Ignore them,’ he ordered himself. ‘They’re in different rooms. No one know that you’re… Trying to void.’ He shut his eyes, tried to block out the chis, reminding himself again and again that he was alone, behind a locked door. That, even if he could SENSE people, they still weren’t close enough to listen to his stream pour out.
    He felt a sharp throb right at his opening, and started to press into that since he knew it would bring him the relief he needed if he just pushed hard enough now. But, then he realized he could sort of HEAR people in the other rooms, too. And, the urgent pinch at his tip faded away, leaving nothing but a scorching, disappointing throb harshly careening through his bladder and down his length.
    ‘Dammit…’ Vegeta thought. ‘Come on, you are ALONE. You can DO this. You’re stronger than this! You’re too powerful to lose to your bladder!’ As he went through a mental list of all the things Kakarot tended to say to him during this moments, it began to dawn on him exactly WHY Bulma had wanted the two of them to share a room.
    Bulma had known that this was going to happen.
    Bulma had known that he was going to need Kakarot.
    That realization tightened his uncooperative holding muscles up more than anything. Bulma had just EXPECTED him to need help; Help with something that he should NEVER need help with! Help with something that he should have been able to manage just FINE on his own!
    And the worst part was that she was RIGHT.
    The shame that overtook him then was breathtaking. He was becoming so dependent on Kakarot for something so BASIC and necessary! This shouldn’t have been happening. He shouldn’t need Kakarot like this. He should have been fixing it himself.
    It was getting late. He was kind of hungry, but he didn’t want to join Kakarot in the buffet when his bladder was still aching so much. He allowed himself to hope Kakarot would just save him something, he was going to dedicate all of this alone time towards ridding himself of this awful pressure.
    First, he tried flicking on the sink, he tried listening to IT instead of the faint voices he could hear from the other rooms. His bladder swelled and convulsed, as if the water was battering right up against it, but it failed to release.
    Grumbling, he tore off one of his gloves, then turned on the hot tap. Once the water was warm enough, he shoved his palm beneath the faucet. His entire midsection felt like it was on fire, and he felt a dull ache begin to creep up his back, the prelude to the ultimate torture that his bladder could inflict on him. He tried not to think of the pain that was on the horizon if he didn’t get himself emptied soon.
    Maybe… Maybe MORE warm water would work. Another idea was forming. He didn’t like it. It was unsanitary, and he’d NEVER consider doing such a thing if he were at home, but here, in a hotel room… That shower had probably had LOTS of disgusting things take place within it.
    Ugh, was he seriously considering this? It was so dirty, and utterly desperate! But, Vegeta WAS desperate. His back was starting to hurt, and it was only a matter of time now before that pain increased to the scorching, agonizing acid burns that destroyed his ability to think and function. He NEEDED to get this pressure out.
    He went to get his pajamas, then removed his clothing. Once everything was off, he could see the gnarled bump of his full bladder. He gazed at it warily, moving his hands further away from his abdomen as he imagined what it would feel like to accidentally brush his knuckles against that. He was USED to his bladder swelling, it was a normal thing to see, but it always made him wince to be able to stare at the source of his agony.
    He turned the shower on, struggling to figure out how to get it to the right temperature, then stood beneath the spray. The hiss from the shower-head sounded a LOT like what Vegeta so desperately needed to do. It made him fidget a bit, rubbing his knees together anxiously and tensing his thighs. When he caught his hand moving to grasp hold of his dick, he stopped himself. The goal was to release everything right here, that was not going to happen if he squirmed and clutched at himself like he was trying to hold it back.
    The warm water striking him felt nice. It soothed some of the tension in his shoulders, and he hoped it would do the same for other places. He shut his eyes and did his best to focus just on the sound of running water, the feeling of it warmly gliding down his back. He pleaded for it to lull his body into a state in which it could let go. ‘Come on… Come on…’
    ‘Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!’
    Wh—What?! What the Hell?! He recognized Frieza’s voice, the disgust and scorn in it, but had trouble placing the exact time he’d heard this statement being snapped at him. He knew it had to be a memory, it sounded too real to just be something he was making up.
    He didn’t know WHY he was being hit by a memory of Frieza scolding him now, when all he wanted to do was relieve his overflowing bladder in the privacy of the shower, but—
    Something was coming back. He was six, maybe seven. His planet was gone. He was on Frieza’s ship and he had to GO. But, he didn’t dare ask Frieza for permission to do so. He couldn’t! Raditz was there too. Vegeta had to appear strong and infallible in front of the other remaining Saiyans. He was not allowed to show that he had any needs.
    But, he needed to go so bad. It was hurting. Frieza was yelling, at him and at Raditz. Frieza was mad because they’d gotten so filthy during their last mission, and then they’d gotten mud inside the ship. Frieza was shouting that they needed to get washed, and sent them to the showers. Frieza stayed to monitor them, even though Vegeta really didn’t want Frieza to watch.
    Vegeta kept his back to Frieza the whole time and tried to wash himself off as fast as possible. He was so uncomfortable. Knowing Frieza could see him made him feel gross. He was used to showering with Raditz and he didn’t mind doing it. He minded Frieza being there. The running water from the shower-heads was making him need to go even more. He kept looking at the drain and wondering if he could let himself pee here. If it would mix with the other water so no one even noticed.
    Suddenly, Frieza growled “Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!” And Vegeta looked down in a panic, worried that he’d started to go without meaning to, but he hadn’t.
    “How dare you do THAT in my showers?” Frieza snapped. Vegeta heard him stomping forwards, but he was going over to Raditz. “That is DISGUSTING, you learn to hold your water, you filthy brat!” Then, Vegeta could hear Raditz crying as he was beaten. Vegeta hurried to finish washing the last of the soap off, then frantically put his clothes on before bolting from the bathing room. Like a coward. A coward that couldn’t protect one of the only other survivors from his planet.
    Now, Vegeta shook his head, trying to rid himself of that memory. Recalling ANYTHING about Frieza right now would not help him reach his goal. Recalling a time when he was so weak that he couldn’t even TRY to defend his fellow Saiyans was not going to help him. Recalling the sound of Raditz being beaten for peeing in a shower was not going to help him.
    Vegeta tried for a few more minutes to both release his bladder and erase that memory from his mind. He wished that he could understand why things from so long ago still hurt him— Why they sometimes seemed to hurt him worse NOW than they had in the moment. It made no sense, and it made him feel pathetic. Like, even though Frieza was dead, Vegeta STILL didn’t have the strength to defeat him. He was losing a battle against a corpse and, since his bladder still REFUSED to empty, he was once again losing a battle against himself.
    Vegeta gave up eventually, got out of the shower, put on his clothes and just forced himself to climb into bed. He was overwhelmed by how badly he had to urinate now. His bladder was SEARING, and no matter which way he turned, the pressure was severe. If he laid on his back, he felt his skin stretch over that angry, urgent bump of need. If he laid on his sides, he felt the liquid inside of him sloshing and battering against his bladder’s over-stretched walls. If he laid on his stomach, all of his weight pushed down on his lower abdomen and he was in so much pain that tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
    Since his solitude hadn’t granted him the relief he wanted, he decided to at least take advantage of it in order to squirm. He flailed around in the bed, crossing his legs like crazy and clutching at his crotch for dear life. All the contorting and twisting helped ease the pressure a little, but it was nothing compared to what he actually needed.
    Kakarot returned eventually, and Vegeta quickly covered himself up with the bedsheets since holding still was an impossibility. “The buffet was really good,” he informed with a smile. “I brought you some food, in case you’re hungry.”
    Vegeta had to pee so bad that he felt nauseas. He couldn’t eat a thing right now.
    Kakarot looked at him. “Feeling sleepy, huh?” He said. “Yeah, I’m tired too… Are you gonna make me sleep on the floor like last time?”
    Vegeta was too uncomfortable to argue. “No. Just… Stay on YOUR side of the bed, alright? Don’t touch me, don’t get too close.”
    “Okay, sure,” Kakarot said, heading towards the restroom.
    ‘Kakarot, I couldn’t go!’ The words were right on the tip of Vegeta’s tongue, but that was where they stayed. He just couldn’t get them any further. The shame held them back. Moments later, Kakarot was in the shower, and Vegeta was holding his pillow over his ears to block out the awful sound.
    Vegeta tried to fall asleep. He’d gone to sleep with his bladder already full plenty of times before, but it had been quite a while since he’d last needed to do that. At home, he could ALWAYS go before bed. Ohhh, he wanted to be at home. If he was at home, he would have peed ages ago. He wouldn’t have remembered anything about Frieza. He’d be comfortable, not about to explode, not coated in shame and embarrassment.
    The shower switched off, and Kakarot got into bed. He was staying on his own side, just like Vegeta wanted, but now he wished Kakarot would get a little closer, close enough to notice how uncomfortable Vegeta was without Vegeta needing to say or do anything.
    “G’night,” Kakarot said.
    “Stay on your side,” Vegeta responded.
    Somehow, Vegeta eventually managed to fall asleep.
    ***
    Vegeta woke up on a cot, inside a cell, somewhere in the lower decks of Frieza’s ship.
    “What… the… Hell…” he mumbled as he sat up. His bladder gave a painful nudge, telling him that he had to empty it right away. His back ached as well, punctuating the urgency of his need. He ignored that for the moment. “Why am I—“ He stopped, concentrated.
    He couldn’t sense Frieza, the Ginyus, Zarbon or anyone else who would be aboard this ship.
    He DID, however, sense Kakarot.
    Okay. This was a dream, then.
    This was not the kind of place he wanted to visit in a dream, though. He’d been locked inside cells like this one plenty of times, especially towards the end of his stint with Frieza when he’d just gotten so fed up with everything that he’d started talking back even more than usual. The cells were miserable places. The only thing inside was the cot and a toilet— A toilet which Vegeta always refused to use until all the lights had been shut off in the ship for the night.
    In the early days, Frieza’s prisoners were usually able to get OUT of the cells pretty easily. Vegeta had been strong enough to bend metal bars since the age of two. But, that had just required Frieza to get creative, in lieu of bars, the cells were now equipped with a force-field, and prisoners were outfitted with special collars of Frieza’s own creation— Collars which blocked the wearer from their own chi.
    Whenever Vegeta was placed in a cell, he was completely powerless in every sense of the word. With Vegeta’s chi control removed, his ability to even ATTEMPT fighting back or defending himself taken away, Frieza would enter his cell and… ‘Torture’ was the only word to describe what he inflicted onto Vegeta then.
    What came afterwards, when Frieza was finally finished with him, was always confusing. Once Frieza had stopped hurting Vegeta, once he’d stopped berating him, clawing him, tearing him up and unleashing Hell upon him in the form of relentless chi blasts, Frieza would begin to act very strangely.
    With Vegeta laying there, his power stolen, his body in agony, Frieza would start to smile. And not his usual, scornful smirk, either. The smile always looked genuine. He would stroke Vegeta’s hair gently and tell him how proud he was that he’d managed to endure all of that pain so well. “You know I don’t ENJOY needing to punish you, Prince…” Frieza always said. “You are the best fighter in my entire army— You’re my favorite, remember that. My favorite… Please don’t make me have to bring you in here again. This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
    And Vegeta would be confused, but praise from Frieza was so rare, and he would be in so much pain, so desperate for anything that would make him feel less worthless and broken… He’d allow Frieza to continue petting his hair and praising him. It felt good, and that was what hurt most of all.
    Sometimes, when Frieza released Vegeta from the cell, he’d present him with some kind of gift. A new style of armor no one else had access to yet, a type of food he really enjoyed, a chance to lead during an upcoming mission… And it would still be confusing, but Vegeta couldn’t turn any of it down— Especially not food.
    Vegeta didn’t like to remember this cell. Why had his brain decided to take him to it in his dreams?
    The things that happened in here were sick beyond all measure. Pain, agony, Frieza’s claws all over him. Vegeta had nearly died in this place more times than he could count. It was one of the few places he’d ever shed tears.
    Vegeta couldn’t even remember everything that was done to him in here. Some incidents came to him with perfect clarity, others were foggy and blurred. Others still were just… Not there; He could recall specific things he had been placed in the cell for, could remember Frieza arriving, but then it was like he skipped ahead in time to the moment he was finally let out, only aware that SOMETHING had happened because he could still remember how much pain he’d been in.
    The first time he’d been here, he thought he had been six. He’d mouthed off to Frieza one too many times, demanding that he be given more challenging planets to conquer, insisting he didn’t need help from low-level scum like Raditz or a glorified babysitter like Nappa. He boasted that he could handle missions all by himself. When Frieza scoffed and sneered in response, Vegeta snapped that one day he was going to be stronger than Frieza and all his top soldiers combined.
    So, Frieza had put him in the cell.
    Frieza had returned around one hour later and hissed “It’s time you learn your place, you wretched monkey runt… You are nothing. I am your owner. And you shall remain my property until I see fit to dispose of you.”
    Vegeta had never been able to remember what exactly happened after that. Just that every part of his body was utterly useless afterwards, all of it only capable of sending him endless volts of pain. There was not one piece of him that didn’t feel broken and shattered, not one area that wasn’t flooded with torment.
    He remembered that, along with the feeling of Frieza’s claws combing his hair, petting it like he would an animal as Vegeta laid blearily on his lap. “You did it, Prince Vegeta… You made it through. I’m so proud of you, you took your punishment so well. So tough for such a little warrior. I know, that was so awful, wasn’t it? I wish I hadn’t needed to do that. If you can be a good, obedient Saiyan for me, it won’t have to happen again… I don’t like seeing you suffer so much."
    Now, Vegeta’s heart-rate was skyrocketing just from being back here again, his awareness that it was only a dream did absolutely nothing to soothe him.
    ‘You’re sleeping, you’re sleeping, you’re sleeping,’ Vegeta reminded himself. ‘You can sense Kakarot. You know you’re not really here.’ But, everything looked real. It looked exactly how he remembered it. Even the blood stains on the cot were the same.
    His bladder pulsed again. He wanted to wake up and go empty it. He wanted to wake up and… And just not be HERE anymore. He tried to summon his chi and allow it to build inside of himself, which usually caused him to wake up. Not this time, though. He couldn’t feel his own chi, as if the collar was actually working. As if all of this was real.
    ‘Kakarot is near you!’ Vegeta thought desperately. ‘And Kakarot was never HERE, that means it’s not real.’ He pinched his thigh, he needed to wake up. He couldn’t be here anymore. His urge to pee was worsening, but that paled in comparison to how badly he just did NOT want to be in this room. ‘Wake up, wake up!’
    He didn’t wake up.
    Vegeta tried to focus really, REALLY hard on his need for the restroom, hoping that IT would prompt his body into wakefulness. He zeroed in on the discomfort straining inside his lower abdomen, the constant thrumming buzz of his building desperation. He even tried to ‘exaggerate’ how bad it was, telling himself that he was about to burst and couldn’t hold it another second, in a vain attempt to get himself to open his eyes. ‘Wake up! Wake up, or you’ll wet the bed!’
    If his bladder didn’t wake him up, then what would? His pulse was already racing with fear as he had a bad feeling he knew what this dream was about to force him to relive.
    Frieza appeared on the other side of the forcefield. He punched in a code and entered the cell. “Well, Prince Vegeta, how have you been enjoying your confinement?”
    Vegeta said nothing and pleaded with himself to wake up. He didn’t bother trying to take ‘control’ of this dream and blast Frieza to death, he already knew that it wouldn’t work. He didn’t have any control here, he was going to be put through everything again. It was going to happen again.
    “Answer me, monkey!” Frieza snapped when Vegeta stayed quiet for too long.
    “I—It’s… Fine…” Vegeta said. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to Frieza in real-life when he’d been in here. All he could remember was how loud he had screamed, how his vocal cords had fried, how his ears had rung, how his shrieks of pain had made his body hurt even worse but he’d been completely incapable of holding them in.
    “Just fine?” Frieza asked, putting a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “You insult me, Prince. I went to all this trouble making these lovely accommodations just for you, I even got you that nice collar.”
    Vegeta felt the collar, it was choking him. It felt so real.
    ‘Kakarot…’ Vegeta told himself. ‘Focus on Kakarot. He’s right there.’ He hated himself for all the reminders, for the way that Kakarot’s presence was the only thing making him feel okay as he was overcome with terror from a stupid nightmare.
    “Oh, Vegeta, is that making it hard for you to breathe?” Frieza’s tail flicked. “How about I help you with that?”
    Before Vegeta could react, Frieza’s tail had lashed out and wound itself around his throat. “Gih—Guh—!”
    ’This is a dream,’ Vegeta thought again and again and again. But, all the reassurances in the world couldn’t make the pain fade. He could feel himself losing oxygen, could feel the bones in his neck starting to break as Frieza’s tail squeezed against them. Frieza kept tightening the grip until those bones were just about to snap apart, and then he eased up. He just wouldn’t stop…
    “I am not going to make this fast for you,” Frieza warned. “I’ve had enough of your defying me. You will pay the price.”
    Vegeta’s need to pee was getting worse, too. He tried to focus on that pain, because he knew IT was real. He knew IT posed a real danger. The sensations of Frieza trying to break his neck were all fake, he wasn’t ACTUALLY about to suffocate. But, the pressure in his bladder DID exist, and if he didn’t keep control over it, he’d burst and pee the bed— Which would be beyond terrible since he could still sense Kakarot near him.
    ‘Kakarot… Kakarot…’ Vegeta chanted to himself in his mind. ‘He’s there. You’re okay. This is fake.’
    Frieza’s tail finally released Vegeta’s neck, and Vegeta crumpled onto the floor. His bladder seared more, pain flaring in his tip and he gripped his hands against the ground to avoid holding himself. He didn’t know why he was bothering, why the idea of holding himself in front of Frieza was still so shameful when he knew this was all imaginary.
    “Now,” Frieza said. “Are you ready to be polite?”
    Vegeta nodded. The room was spinning and he felt light-headed. He hoped against hope that that was a sign he was starting to wake up, but no such luck.
    “There’s a good monkey…” Frieza smirked. “Now, let’s see YOUR tail, shall we?”
    Frieza grabbed Vegeta’s tail and, preposterously, Vegeta felt the pressure. This made even less sense than the choking had! He didn’t even HAVE a tail anymore in the real-world! How could he still feel—
    Vegeta screamed at the top of his voice when, a moment later, he felt something sharp dig itself against the tip of his tail, felt it penetrate through the skin, through the muscle and sinew, felt it scrape against the bone. His eyes rolled back in his head as one of the worst pains he’d ever felt drove him to the brink of insanity. ‘Not real, not real!’ He kept shouting at himself. ‘Why the Hell do I still FEEL it?!”
    Frieza shoved him forwards, releasing his tail. Vegeta turned back around just in time to see Frieza lick the blood he’d drawn out of his tail off of his extremely long, pointy finger nail. “Well, that was amusing! I could cause you THAT much pain just with one nail? You really ARE pathetic, you know that, monkey?”
    Vegeta’s eyes were tearing up, and his legs were shaking. His tail hung limply, still bleeding. ‘Not real! Focus on what’s real!’ That was, perhaps, a bad decision, because when he again concentrated on his bladder, the one thing he knew was ACTUALLY causing him distress, the pins and needles inside of it caught fire, and the pressure at the base of his cock flared to life. “Ah—“ He crossed his legs, unsure of if his body was REALLY squirming in the waking world or not. He didn’t think so, because the action didn’t ease the pain in his bladder at all, nor did the jiggling and foot tapping that followed.
    Frieza grinned wider at him, “Oh, does the little Prince need to go pee?”
    ‘Dream!’ Vegeta screamed inside his mind. ‘Just— Just—‘ “Shut up!” He barked at Frieza, and his blood ran cold.
    “Did you just tell me to shut up?” Frieza asked.
    Vegeta didn’t respond, he just kept shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or desperation that was responsible. He HOPED it was just desperation, still mentally scolding himself for getting so damned scared when he KNEW none of this was actually happening.
    “Nnnh…” Vegeta tangled his legs up even tighter. ‘Come on, wake up! You have to use the bathroom!’ His bladder screeched and its walls strained, trying to pump something out. Nothing happened, of course. Not with Frieza WATCHING him.
    ‘He’s NOT watching you!’
    “Ohhh, poor little monkey,” Frieza said. “He needs to go so, SO bad, doesn’t he?” He reached out a hand and cupped it over Vegeta’s bladder, which was swollen and tender to the touch. “Look at this, you’re starting to look a little round at the edges now…” Frieza gave Vegeta’s bladder a squeeze, as if it were a ripe orange.
    The pain of THAT felt even more real than any of the other imagined torments his dream had subjected him to. Immediately, an explosion of agony rippled through his bladder, referring up around his rib cage and crashing down against his opening. Tears started to fall and he moaned as heat built up in his length, and for a second he thought he was going to leak, but the feeling disappeared back into the throbbing, awful, urgent pulsing of his bladder yet again.
    “This is quite amusing, Vegeta…” Frieza said. “I may not even have to use any of my powers on you today. I can punish you fine with just my bare hands.” He mashed his hand against Vegeta’s bladder twice more, each time eliciting grunts and groans of displeasure as Vegeta’s body fought a war with itself. Then, Frieza shoved him to the floor. Vegeta quickly rolled onto his side, curling over on himself in an effort to shield his bladder from the onslaught, but Frieza forced him back around. “LOOK at me when I’m punishing you, Vegeta! I didn’t tell you you could turn away!”
    “I—“
    “This calls for more discipline!” Frieza declared, lifting a leg and stomping down on Vegeta’s lower stomach, pressing his full weight atop Vegeta’s bladder. Vegeta’s body reacted with a surge of screaming agony, his aching sphincters lit ablaze against the grotesque pressure. His back flared and nausea burned a line up his throat. ‘Ahhh… Stop, Frieza!’ Vegeta thought. ‘Please, please! Just stop! I’m gonna be sick! I’m gonna— Not real, not real, not real!’
    He was able to feel Kakarot’s chi more clearly now, and that— That was GOOD. He could sense Kakarot, which made him constantly aware that this was just a dream. He could sense Kakarot, so the real Frieza was dead. He could sense Kakarot, so none of this was happening. None of the pain was real, none of the shame, none of the humiliation.
    “BEG me,” Frieza commanded. “BEG me, and perhaps I will be merciful!”
    “Never!” Vegeta shouted. “Not even in a dream!”
    “Then I’m going to have to make you explode…” Frieza said, stomping once more on Vegeta’s bladder, causing the pain in Vegeta’s back to ignite with a new fury. “BEG ME!” Frieza ordered. “Beg me to let you piss, beg me like the pathetic creature you are!”
    “NO!”
    More stomping, more pain.
    ‘Not real, not real, not real—‘
    “Pl—Please!” Vegeta cried out, and it was like the nightmare had taken complete control over him, too, forcing him to act in a way he never would, forcing him to endure the pitiful sound of his own voice, of the words he couldn’t hold back. “Please! Please, just let me relieve myself! Please, I’m begging you!”
    He couldn’t make the words stop coming, and his horror increased as more of them spilled forth. This was even more terrifying than any of the OTHER things his nightmare had been subjecting him to. At least, with the memories of physical torture, there had been a tiny part of him that could be proud for his ability to endure… There was nothing to take pride in here.
    “Please, please! I have to— I need to relieve myself! Please, let me go!”
    “Beg MORE,” Frieza barked.
    “Please, I’ll do anything!” Vegeta could do nothing to keep himself quiet, his dream-self wouldn’t obey him, his dream-self wanted him to be humiliated and ashamed. “Please! I need to go! It hurts!”
    Something shifted and Vegeta could feel Kakarot more strongly than ever, that was good! He wanted to keep feeling Kakarot! He needed Kakarot!
    ***
    Goku woke up, and all his grogginess faded in an instant when he registered how badly he needed to pee. His bladder was exploding, and it felt like it was caught in some kinda—
    Hang on, what?!
    Even after all of those ‘STAY ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED!’ demands, Vegeta was pressed RIGHT up against Goku. More than that, he had his arms wrapped around Goku’s waist as tightly as he did sometimes when they fought! His legs were coiled around Goku’s as well. Vegeta was literally CLINGING to him, like he’d die if he let go, like he couldn’t get close enough to him.
    And, that would have been fine normally! Goku liked being hugged when he was sleepy. And Vegeta was giving him a really tight, cozy hug right now.
    There were just a few problems with that. First, Vegeta was the least snuggly person in the universe, so Goku was really confused by this turn of events. It was pretty warm in the room, so he doubted Vegeta was just seeking extra heat. If Vegeta woke up and discovered himself in this position, Goku knew he was going to be yelled at— It wouldn’t matter that Vegeta had been the one doing all the cuddling, he’d come up with some reasoning for why it was Goku’s fault.
    Second, Goku needed to use the bathroom SO bad! And, Vegeta was, indeed, latched onto him with the same amount of force he employed during battles. Whenever he gripped him this way in a fight, Vegeta always managed to get quite a few decent hits in before Goku broke free. And, in order to actually GET free, Goku would have to power up and basically LAUNCH Vegeta off of himself.
    Vegeta would not be pleased to be woken up that way. And Goku would be in a lot of trouble if he destroyed one of the walls here by slamming Vegeta through it.
    But, just wriggling out of Vegeta’s grasp didn’t tend to work. Vegeta reacted too fast, adjusting his hold in whatever way was necessary to keep Goku in place.
    Maybe he wouldn’t be able to do that in his sleep, though.
    Goku tried to squirm free, hoping that since Vegeta wasn’t alert, he wouldn’t respond to anything Goku did.
    Nope. Just as Goku started to ease his way out of Vegeta’s grasp, Vegeta tugged him back, hanging on even tighter. What’s worse, he’d changed the position of his arms slightly— Just enough so that he was now squeezing Goku’s bladder far worse than he had been before.
    “Ah—Nnnh…” Goku gritted his teeth, squirming his legs and turning around as much as he was able to. If he couldn’t get Vegeta to let go, he at least wanted those strong arms away from his bladder!
    He managed to get into a position that didn’t hurt AS much, but the waters inside of him refused to calm down. He had to pee, and he had to do it NOW. He thought that if he just got Vegeta’s legs untangled from his own, he’d be able to stand up and walk with Vegeta still clinging to him like this. His bladder would make that difficult, but not impossible.
    He tried shoving Vegeta’s legs aside, but that only prompted Vegeta to wrap their limbs tighter together. Everything Goku did only made Vegeta hold onto him even more firmly!
    “Vegetaaaa,” Goku whined. “Let go!”
    Vegeta nuzzled his face into Goku’s side, but other than that he didn’t move.
    This was so weird! Was Vegeta’s sleeping brain mistaking Goku for Bulma? Goku had a hard time picturing Vegeta even snuggling Bulma like this!
    “Vegeta,” Goku said once more. “I promise I won’t tell anybody that you hugged me all night, but ONLY if you let me get up right now!” He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about Vegeta’s strange clinging anyway, but he needed to get through to him somehow.
    What had gotten into him? WAS he too cold in here? Goku reached and tried to pull the blanket up around Vegeta a bit more to see if that did anything, but again Vegeta pulled Goku closer and now his fingers were kneading into his bladder!
    “Ouch!” Goku exclaimed as a bright hot bolt of urgency shot down his length. He felt a scorching pressure at his opening, which was immediately followed by a short dribble of pee. “Vegeta, stop it! You’re gonna make me pee the bed!” He paused then, hoping the threat would reach Vegeta’s consciousness somehow, added “I’ll pee the bed, and it’ll get on BOTH of us, so it’ll look like YOU did it too!”
    Vegeta remained glued to him.
    “Hnnng, come ON,” Goku cried, wondering how his loud voice alone hadn’t been enough to wake Vegeta up. What the Hell was he dreaming about? Goku didn’t think he was dreaming of a fight— If he was, he would have been flailing, instead of refusing to BUDGE. When Vegeta turned his head slightly, Goku was able to see his expression.
    His brows were furrowed like they did whenever he was angry. He was sweating, clammy, and a moment later he made a strange, distressed noise, and he shook against Goku.
    “… Are you having a nightmare?” Goku asked, softer now. “Is that it? Is… Is hugging me making you feel safe?” It was a strange thing to consider, Vegeta being frightened to the point that he was clinging to Goku for comfort. But, Goku didn’t think the idea was too far-fetched, either.
    Goku remembered the time he and Vegeta had been trapped inside of Buu’s body. They’d encountered a group of worms, and Vegeta had been REALLY freaked out. So much so that he’d stayed behind Goku, using his rival as some kind of ‘shield’ between himself and the worms. He’d even held onto Goku’s shoulders a couple of times, so tightly that they'd ached.
    And Goku had just LET him do all that. He hadn’t given Vegeta a hard time about it, either. Instead he’d just carried on as if it wasn’t even happening, giving NO acknowledgement to Vegeta’s fear. If letting Vegeta hide behind him and cling onto him made him feel better, then Goku didn’t mind. He’d understood that was what Vegeta needed. He’d understood that, if Vegeta was ALLOWING himself to behave in such a way, he must have been extremely scared, and denying him comfort, or teasing him for it even a little, would have been cruel.
    Vegeta seemed to be having an atrocious nightmare, he was scared and he needed comfort. And… If clinging to Goku GAVE him that comfort, then Goku supposed he could let it happen. Even if he did really, REALLY need to pee…
    “It’s okay, Vegeta,” Goku said, trying to ignore the sharp, brutal throbs in his bladder. “I… Mmmf… I can hold it a little longer.” Still, he made one more attempt to wake Vegeta up, giving him a gentle nudge. “You’re just having a bad dream, open your eyes and it’ll be over.”
    Vegeta’s nightmare was too strong, though. He didn’t wake up, and Goku felt bad. He didn’t know what Vegeta’s brain was choosing to torment him with tonight, but if it was making Vegeta THIS scared, it must have been awful.
    Goku kept watching him for a few seconds. Then, anxiously, he put a hand onto Vegeta’s shoulder and rubbed it. Vegeta would KILL him if he saw that, but it just felt like the right thing to do now. As did his next words, “Whatever’s scaring you, I’m sure you’re strong enough to beat it.” He squirmed as much as he could with Vegeta wrapped around him. His lower stomach actually hurt from how desperately he had to pee. He was even feeling a little nauseated by the continued pressure. But, he thought Vegeta needed him right now more than HE needed a bathroom.
    He smoothed his hand down Vegeta’s side, again all-too-aware of how furious his friend would be for such an action. “It’s alright, Vegeta. It’s just a dream,” he said. He tensed his thighs up against another awful jolt from within. He wasn’t fast enough, and a quick jet of liquid hissed between his legs. “It’s… Mmmf…” Goku winced, feeling sweat pouring down his face. “It’s gonna be okay. Everybody has nightmares sometimes. You can defeat this one.”
    Vegeta’s eyes finally opened and, when they did, they blew wide. Goku expected him to start shouting at him. ‘WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME, KAKAROT?! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT STAYING ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED?!’ He expected Vegeta to pull away from him as if he were the most disgusting thing in the universe. He expected Vegeta to threaten him to NEVER speak of this accidental snuggling again.
    But, none of that happened.
    What happened instead utterly confused Goku. Vegeta released him, and shook like he was in an earthquake. His arms spasmed uncontrollably as he wrapped them around himself, his chest was heaving, and a strange noise came out of his mouth. He was breathing, but it sounded all wrong. Rapid-fire inhales and exhales, and it was like he still wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs, because his breathing speed continued to increase, becoming more and more desperate.
    His chi was going totally ballistic, too. Rising and falling in rapid waves, flaring out of control.
    Goku was usually so GOOD at reading body-language, especially Vegeta’s. He was good at predicting what a person would do next based on how they were moving now. But this time he just didn’t understand, he had no idea what Vegeta was doing, or what he was going to do. He knew Vegeta was really scared, however this seemed like something MORE than that.
    “Vegeta?!” Goku asked, startled. “What’s happening?! Are you okay?!”
    “K—Kakar— Kakar—“ Vegeta struggled, then seemed to just give up, he continued to hug himself, continued to fight for air, and Goku didn’t understand!
    Goku tried rubbing his back, because he didn’t know what to do, and he remembered that sometimes Chi-Chi rubbed HIS back when he had to get a shot and it made him feel better. He had no idea what to say. Everything about this was so confusing to him, he thought Vegeta probably needed Bulma right now, but Bulma wasn’t HERE, and Goku wasn’t sure how to fix this— He didn’t even know what was WRONG with Vegeta!
    Feeling Vegeta’s chi continuing to spike and flare, Goku concentrated harder and tried to transfer some of his OWN energy into his friend. He tried to put every bit of relaxation and calm into it that he could. This required him to un-focus completely from his bladder and he started to leak slowly, but he ignored that.
    He just kept rubbing Vegeta’s back, and when Vegeta’s chi started to calm down and his breathing began to slow, Goku hoped that meant he was doing something right. What was happening? Goku had never done THAT after a nightmare before.
    But, Vegeta had sure had a lot of really scary things happen to him before. Maybe that meant his nightmares were scarier than Goku’s? “V— Vegeta…?” He began, hesitant.
    Vegeta’s breathing and energy had both stabilized, and now he was just sitting there, his face pale save for splotches of red. His eyes squeezed closed. He still had his arms around himself, his legs were fidgeting.
    Goku’s bladder throbbed again, and he felt a trickle escape. He pushed a hand against his crotch to clamp off the flow. It hurt. He just wanted to keep peeing… Vegeta had let go of him, and Vegeta was breathing properly again. Goku could just get up and relieve himself now. But, he STILL didn’t feel right leaving Vegeta alone right now.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta managed to say. “Do NOT tell anyone about… That…”
    “I won’t,” Goku promised, adjusting his position slightly so he could look directly into Vegeta’s eyes. His bladder sloshed, protesting even that tiny motion, and he needed to tighten his grip on himself to avoid another spill. “I promise. I mean, I don’t know WHAT just happened, so how would I even tell anybody?”
    “…Good,” Vegeta said after a moment.
    “What… What was that, though?” Goku asked. “I can tell you were having a nightmare, ‘cause of how you were holding onto me, and—“
    Vegeta scowled and turned himself further away. “A nightmare, Kakarot?! Do you think I’m a child?”
    “No,” Goku said. “But, everybody has bad dreams, and I started thinking about all the stuff you’ve been through, so I was wondering if you were, like, remembering something bad, and that’s why you were so… Upset?” He made sure to avoid using the word ‘afraid’. Vegeta was already in the process of shutting down and closing Goku out, acknowledging that his friend had been feeling terrified would cause the conversation to end completely.
    “It was just a dream,” Vegeta said firmly, shifting around with discomfort. His shoulders shook. “I’m fine.”
    “But… What HAPPENED in the dream?”
    “That doesn’t matter.”
    “Vegeta…” Goku said. Internally, he was scolding himself. Vegeta didn’t WANT to discuss this, and Goku DID want to get out of bed and pee! If he dropped the subject, then they’d BOTH get what they desired— But only ONE of them would get what they actually needed.
    Goku needed to pee, but Vegeta needed to talk. If they didn’t do that now, then it would NEVER get done.
    “You can tell me,” Goku said. “No matter what it is, I won’t… Tease you, or whatever you’re so worried about. I swear.”
    “On Frieza’s ship, there were a few cells. I’d be sent to one whenever I managed to piss off Frieza badly enough. He’d make me wear a collar that prevented me from controlling my chi, so that I had no way to fight back, and then he’d come in and punish me. I was dreaming about that, but it was JUST a dream, so it’s no big deal. Stop worrying about it.”
    Goku’s eyes widened. He could only imagine what Frieza did to ‘punish’ someone, especially after he’d completely removed their ability to defend themselves. He didn’t even WANT to picture it. Just the idea of having his strength and powers cut off from him was frightening— But to then have someone as ruthless as Frieza come around and ‘punish’ him, too…
    Goku didn’t press Vegeta for details. He understood enough now, Vegeta’s nightmare had been a memory of himself being tortured. His clinging and hyperventilating made perfect sense. “… Do you need Bulma?” He asked. “Do you need to talk t—“
    “No,” Vegeta interrupted. “Don’t disturb her rehearsing over this nonsense.”
    “I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Goku said. “Sounds like you got hurt super bad…”
    Vegeta tensed up again and grit his teeth. “If… If he hadn’t stuck that damned collar on me, I could have—“
    “You could have,” Goku agreed. “That’s WHY he made you wear the collar, he didn’t want you to have a chance.”
    Vegeta continued to shift around, looking more uncomfortable. Goku frowned, he was trying his best to make him feel better, but he was just getting more fidgety and upset.
    “And, yeah, like you said— It was just a dream. Frieza’s dead now, he’ll never do anything like that again to anyo—“
    “K—Kakarot!” Vegeta interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut again and shakily getting out of bed. There were tremors running all through his legs, he let go of his chest and let his hands fall down by his sides, clenching them into fists. “You— I— I must… Attend to something else right now!”
    “Vegeta,” Goku started to say. Vegeta was trembling so much, clearly still on-edge from his nightmare. “Come on, I wanna help y—“
    “I—In a minute!” Vegeta insisted, starting to step away. He was still shaking so ba—
    Oh.
    Goku felt silly for not realizing this sooner, considering his OWN continued desperation, but now it was plainly obvious. Vegeta’s shudders weren’t from fear anymore— Or at least, not TOTALLY. Vegeta ALSO needed to pee badly.
    … Which meant Goku was gonna have to wait out here while Vegeta used the restroom. He was going to have to wait here, and possibly ‘encourage’ Vegeta to let it out as he so often did. He was going to have to wait until Vegeta managed to START peeing, and then for the SEVERAL minutes it always took him to finish. He was going to have to listen to his stream spraying out for ages, and just sit there in the bed and endure it. He was going to have to contain his already bursting bladder while Vegeta did what he was DYING to do.
    Goku didn’t think he could hold it through all of that. He’d burst, he’d pee uncontrollably all over himself and the bed. He’d be soaked, Vegeta would come back, see what he’d done, and be equal parts mortified and furious. He was sure Vegeta would be more humiliated by Goku’s accident than he himself was! Vegeta would be beyond embarrassed when he realized that the hiss of his own stream had been the thing to send Goku over the edge.
    “H—Hang on, Vegeta!” Goku blurted out. He NEEDED to go first! As much as he didn’t want to prolong Vegeta’s suffering, it was WAY less likely that his friend would wet himself while waiting. Plus, Goku would be finished far, FAR faster than Vegeta. It just made sense for Goku to pee first! “I gotta go, too!”
    Vegeta froze, and Goku could tell he was blushing. Goku knew how he was going to react. He felt guilty, but he was COUNTING on it; Vegeta’s pride would INSIST he let Goku pee first, just to prove once again that HIS bladder was superior. In Vegeta’s mind, demanding that he take the first turn would be an admission of defeat, a sign of weakness. Those were unhealthy modes of thinking, things Goku had been trying to get Vegeta PAST, but right now, he NEEDED Vegeta to keep feeling that way.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta said, his voice much softer than usual. “I… Um… H—Haven’t gone at all since we got here…”
    What?! But— No! He wasn’t supposed to argue! He wasn’t supposed to— He should have been saying “Of COURSE you do, Kakarot! Your bladder is so tiny! You go first, I wouldn’t want you to piss everywhere and disgrace the legacy of every Saiyan who’s ever lived!”
    And… He hadn’t gone at all since they’d gotten there?! “But, I thought you went earlier! When I was—“
    “I— Shut up!” Vegeta huffed, turning away again.
    Oh, crap… Goku quickly readjusted to this new information, and it was easy to figure out what had happened. Vegeta HADN’T been able to go while he was downstairs. Then, when Goku got back up here, he’d been too embarrassed to admit it, to accept that the reasoning behind their ‘sleeping arrangement’ tonight had been sound, and that he did, in fact, need Goku’s help.
    So, he’d gone to bed with his bladder still full, and Goku had been too sleepy to realize it. The passage of time and the fear his nightmare had provoked had most likely worsened his need to a painful degree. So painful that, in a vague way, he was confessing that he didn’t think he could wait for Goku to pee first.
    But, Goku couldn’t wait for Vegeta, either! Vegeta always gushed like a broken fire hydrant for five minutes! No way could Goku hold it through that!
    An idea popped into Goku’s head, but it wasn’t one Vegeta was gonna like…
    “How about we go together?!” Goku asked.
    Vegeta went still again, save for the tremors of desperation that he was unable to restrain. “… What,” he asked, voice flat.
    “Er… You know, we stand next to each other and we both—“
    “Are you kidding me, Kakarot?! Hell no!”
    “Come oooon, Vegeta!” Goku whined. He scrambled to his feet, and immediately started to jiggle in place. “I really have to—“
    “No, Kakarot! Just be patient!”
    “But—“
    “No!”
    Goku chewed on his lower lip. His forehead was so sweaty. He felt like he’d waited a life-time already, and the additional time it would take for Vegeta to pee would be the death of him! Worst of all, he understood Vegeta’s refusal. He accepted it, he KNEW Vegeta just wasn’t gonna be COMFORTABLE doing this with him. But, still! He NEEDED Vegeta to do this with him! It was the only option left!
    “But, but— I’m gonna be out here waiting for you, and you’re gonna KNOW I’m waiting for you, so it’s gonna take you even longer to relax than usual, and it’s gonna be so hard for me to help you!”
    Vegeta turned back to stare at Kakarot. The glare in his eyes was one of the sharpest Goku had ever seen from him— And that was saying something. “Thanks, Kakarot! I wasn’t even THINKING about that until YOU brought it up!”
    Goku frowned, he wriggled his feet against the floor. “I’m sorry…”
    “Fine! You go first!” Vegeta snapped, and the way his knees buckled and rubbed together made it stunningly obvious how much he DIDN’T want to continue waiting.
    “But, you’re in pain, you’ve been holding it too long—“
    “Then, hurry up and—“
    “Let’s— Let’s just do it together,” Goku suggested again. “Or at least try to? ‘Cause, that way, if it gets really bad for you, you’ll be in the right spot?”
    Goku basically telling him that it was OKAY if he couldn’t actually make himself pee when they were side by side like that seemed to soften something in Vegeta. “… Fine, but don’t… Don’t LOOK at me at all when we’re in there.”
    “You already KNOW that I wouldn’t,” Goku promised, fighting to keep the relieved smile off his face as Vegeta finally agreed. “I’ve never looked before!” He paused. “… Not on purpose, anyway…” he mumbled.
    “What was that?!”
    “Nothing!”
    They entered the restroom together, and Vegeta’s shaking increased as soon as the door was shut. Goku pretended not to notice. He also pretended not to notice when Vegeta anxiously twisted the lock into place.
    They stood in front of the toilet, and Goku lowered his pants right away. Vegeta just stayed there with his fists clenching at his sides.
    Goku was having to work VERY hard not to just start peeing right then and there. He was supposed to be able to go now! He was at the toilet! “V—Vegeta, I’ve seen your thingy before,” he said, trying to calm his friend down some.
    “St—Stop REMINDING me of that as if it somehow makes this any better!” Vegeta’s shaking intensified as his hands hesitantly went for his waistband. “Don’t you DARE look, if you look, you DIE.”
    “I told you before I’m not gonna look!” Goku was shaking too now. “C—Come on, Vegeta, you’re ALREADY killing me here!”
    Vegeta continued to hesitate, then as a shudder went down his spine, he finally pulled himself out. He was shutting his eyes so tightly that his aim was sure to be absolutely terrible, but that didn’t matter because nothing was coming out of him.
    He felt so tense, every muscle he had was tied in a knot. And those knots were tied in knots, too. His ears weren’t picking up on as many sounds or voices this late into the night, but he could still sense so many unfamiliar chis!
    But, Kakarot’s was the strongest, the one he could feel the most. Kakarot, who didn’t care that the simple task of pissing took so much effort from him. Kakarot, who had just ALLOWED him to cling to him during the night, and then hadn’t said a word about it. Kakarot, who hadn’t made fun of him when he woke up and forgot how to breathe. Kakarot, who never judged him.
    Goku was trying his best to hold it back until Vegeta at least started to let out a dribble, but his body just couldn’t take it anymore. He was at the toilet, he could release… His bladder recognized that it was time to pee, so that was exactly what it did. And it felt GOOD, too. Even better than his relief at the gas station had been. He lost himself in the feeling, sighing with satisfaction before remembering that Vegeta was still having so much troub—
    Beside him, Vegeta finally started to pee. He was obviously trying not to make any noise, but Goku could hear a slow, steady exhale from his nose as he was at last able to let something out. Goku hoped that maybe the sound of him peeing had gotten Vegeta’s body to react; That would make sense, he’d noticed Vegeta get awfully tense around running water before.
    Goku was then given yet another reminder of exactly how large Vegeta’s bladder was— Not that he could ever forget. Once Goku had finished up one of the most badly needed pees of his life, he waited for Vegeta to finish. He turned away completely to give his friend more privacy, and then he had to just… Stand there for several more minutes.
    A few times, Vegeta’s stream would slow and taper off, but then he’d start going full-force again after a moment.
    Goku had been seriously about to burst, he’d needed to go so bad that it had been starting to hurt, so to have Vegeta continue to pee for SO long after Goku had gotten everything out… Goku knew that Vegeta just HAD a bigger bladder than him, that was simply the fact of the matter. But this was still concerning and Goku had half a mind to scold Vegeta for not admitting that he’d been having trouble before they’d gone to sleep.
    Then again, this was such a precarious, fragile thing and Goku knew he couldn’t let Vegeta think he was judging him for ANYTHING.
    Vegeta FINALLY finished and hurriedly fixed his clothing again. “Kakarot…” he breathed out. He sounded winded, utterly exhausted. And it probably had nothing to do with waking up in the middle of the night.
    “C—Can I turn around?” Goku asked, just to make sure.
    “Fine…” Vegeta said.
    When Goku turned, Vegeta was still red in the face, awkwardly shifting as if he still needed to go.
    “Phew…” Goku sighed. “I sure feel better now! Right, Vegeta?”
    “Mmf…” Vegeta turned away. “Listen… Tonight was… Everything about it, I just—“
    “I’m not gonna tell anybody, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    “Good,” Vegeta said. “And, Kakarot?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Wash your damn hands this time.”
  23. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Ms. Tito in Limits (Dragon Ball Z Fanfiction)   
    Vegeta understood the need for him to be on this trip; Bulma was winning an award for one of her inventions, of COURSE Vegeta had to be there to watch her accept it. He WANTED to be there to see her accept it, he was proud of her!
    What he didn’t understand at ALL was why Kakarot had to be here too. None of their other friends were tagging along, JUST Kakarot. What he understood even LESS were the sleeping arrangements at the hotel.
    “I’m going to be up all night rehearsing my speech,” Bulma said. “And, the last time I did something like that, you were in a terrible mood all day from being kept awake. So, this time, it’s best if we don’t share a room.”
    Okay. Fine. That was all well and good. Vegeta could definitely remember the last time Bulma had kept him awake until morning, it had been aggravating and he’d spent the entirety of the next day snapping at everyone and everything… Even more than he usually did! And, while he’d grown accustomed to sleeping beside Bulma, he could manage being alone for one night.
    Except, as it turned out, he wasn’t going to be alone.
    “Why the Hell do I have to share a room with Kakarot?!” Vegeta demanded once it was all explained to him. He couldn’t make sense of it! It wasn’t as though Bulma couldn’t AFFORD three separate hotel rooms!
    “What’s the big deal?” Bulma asked. “You and Goku have slept in the same room before.”
    “Well, I didn’t have a choice those times!”
    “You don’t have a choice THIS time,” Bulma said.
    “I do. Just get Kakarot his own room.”
    But, Bulma had just shaken her head, and made some comment about Vegeta’s Saiyan hearing, and how Kakarot ‘might be useful’ to him once they got there.
    Vegeta had no idea what THAT was supposed to mean, and made it VERY clear that he didn’t approve of this.
    Goku, on the other hand, understood it all right away, especially after Bulma told him Vegeta had never stayed at a hotel before and likely wasn’t picturing it accurately. Goku WAS familiar with hotels, he knew that they could sometimes be noisy. He knew that, with the strong ears of a Saiyan, it was easy to overhear people in other rooms.
    Goku also knew that Vegeta struggled to accomplish certain, important things if he could hear people talking or moving around near him.
    “Oh, okay. Yeah, I get why you want me to come,” Goku said.
    “Well, I DO want you to hear my speech too,” Bulma said. “I’m not JUST inviting you so you can help Vegeta with his… ‘Thing’ if any problems come up.”
    “I will help, though,” Goku assured. “Don’t worry— Worst case scenario, I should at least be able to teleport him somewhere that he’ll feel more comfortable.”
    “Thank you,” Bulma said, relieved. “That’s one less thing to worry about. And, I know I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but don’t let Vegeta find out why you guys are sharing a room.”
    “I won’t.”
    ***
    The day they left on their trip, both Vegeta and Kakarot groaned when Bulma insisted they drive so they could all go together. “Just allow me to teach you how to fly!” Vegeta complained. “It’s so much faster, and there are way fewer idiots up in the sky than there are on the road!”
    “No, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “The only way I’m leaving the ground is if I’m in a plane, you KNOW this.”
    “I could just use instant transmission!” Kakarot offered. “You said your parents are already there, so I only have to find their chi. I’ll have us there in half a second!”
    “I can’t believe I’m saying, but I agree with Kakarot,” Vegeta said, surprised that his rival seemed to share his dislike of cars.
    “I want to drive,” Bulma said. “It will give me time to think over my speech, decide if I want to change anything.”
    “Then let US fly,” Vegeta suggested.
    “I’m the one with all the check-in information,” Bulma said. “And, I don’t want to know what kind of trouble will be caused by the two of you getting bored inside this hotel.”
    “What’s the worst that could happen?” Vegeta scoffed.
    Bulma sighed, “It has an all-you-can-eat buffet,” she stated.
    “One that I’m not banned from yet?!” Kakarot asked, getting excited.
    Vegeta groaned.
    “Case closed,” Bulma said. “Get in the car.”
    Vegeta and Kakarot grumbled as they did as they’d been asked. Vegeta had no idea what Kakarot had against car rides. Vegeta knew why HE hated them; They were slow, having to wait for other cars was infuriating, and when other drivers failed to obey the rules of the road he was enraged. But, Kakarot was okay with taking it easy sometimes, the speed shouldn’t bother him too much, and he doubted Kakarot got that angry at other drivers, either. It just wasn’t in his nature to go into a spitting, blind fury because someone had cut him off.
    It didn’t take Vegeta too long to find out why Kakarot didn’t like riding in cars, though. And, recalling the misery of the drive to Trunks’s parent-teacher conference, Vegeta was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him. Kakarot’s bladder was FAR smaller than Vegeta’s, and he’d be feeling the bumps in the road and the pressure of his seat-belt just as strongly. And, with someone else driving, he couldn’t stop whenever and wherever he wanted to.
    When he heard Kakarot start to whine, “Bulma! You gotta pull over! Now!” everything clicked. Kakarot didn’t like long drives because he wasn’t able to hold it through them.
    He chose to announce his need for the restroom while they were on a barren road, though. Nowhere to stop. Not even any foliage to pee behind, as Kakarot so often did.
    “I can’t right now, Goku,” Bulma said. “You should have said something when we passed that gas station a while ago.”
    “I didn’t have to pee then!” Kakarot complained. “Just pull over, let me go here!”
    “No,” Bulma said. “There’s nowhere for you TO go.”
    “I can just do it in the dirt, come on!”
    “There are other cars out here, somebody might spot you.”
    “So?” Kakarot asked, shifting his legs back and forth and tapping his feet.
    “You could get in trouble,” Bulma said. “I had to pay ENOUGH of those fines for you when you were little.”
    Vegeta quirked a brow. “Fines?”
    “For public urination,” Bulma explained. “I’m not letting him get ANOTHER of those today.”
    Vegeta was still perplexed. With as often as Kakarot peed outside, if that resulted in a fine on this planet, then Kakarot should be completely broke by now. As the notion settled in his thoughts further, a buzzing formed in his chest. HE peed outdoors sometimes, if it was absolutely necessary and he was sure no one could spot him. But, if there was a chance he’d be FINED for that… Money was no issue for him, but the utter embarrassment of it all was a completely different story.
    He glared out the car window. Just fantastic, a new thing to worry about!
    “Come ooooon,” Kakarot pleaded. “There aren’t any police around here, so who’s gonna give me a fine?!”
    Vegeta relaxed a bit. Not only would someone have to SEE him for him to be fined— Meaning that he wouldn’t have been able to pee at all to begin with— that person would also need to be a member of the police. He would NOT be publicly humiliated the next time he needed to relieve himself in the woods.
    “Hold it, Goku,” Bulma said. “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”
    Kakarot kept shifting and wriggling, “But, Bulma! It’s gonna come out!”
    “I’m sure there will be a place to stop soon,” Bulma told him. “If… If there’s not one in half an hour, then you can go outside. How’s that? The longest you’ll have to wait is just thirty more minutes.”
    “Okay, deal!” Kakarot said.
    “Don’t barter with that idiot,” Vegeta scolded. “It’s his own fault that he needs to go so badly. He should have done it earlier, as you said.”
    “Vegetaaa,” Kakarot whined. “I didn’t have to go then! I— Ah!” He made a pained, wincing noise as the car hit over a bump and evidently gave an awful jolt to his full bladder.
    That lurch was also responsible for bringing the first few thrums of need from Vegeta’s bladder to his attention. The feeling faded after a few seconds, but Vegeta was aware now that he wasn’t empty, that he was starting to re-fill after the pee he’d taken right before they’d left. And that, unlike Kakarot, going on the side of the road in thirty minutes wasn’t an option. Nor would he be able to make use of a gas station if they stopped at one. All he could do was hold it in until they got to the hotel.
    He had no doubt that he’d be able to pee at the hotel. Bulma had explained to him what it would be like, and that it would be similar to his room at home. Since he could easily relieve himself THERE, then the hotel should be fine, too. His only worry was actually GETTING there before his bladder started to hurt him— Before his urge got bad enough that he was fidgeting around like the imbecile in the backseat.
    Kakarot kept squirming, when Vegeta glanced back at him, he had folded in half and grabbed ahold of himself. Vegeta couldn’t fight the blush that emerged as he watched, and he quickly faced back in the other direction.
    The next time he looked at Kakarot, he was putting his fingers against his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. “Are you trying to use instant transmission…?” He asked.
    “Yes!” Kakarot whined, bouncing in his seat. “But, I can’t concentrate!”
    “Goku, come on,” Bulma sighed. “It’s just a few more minutes.”
    Vegeta wished that he hadn’t, but he noticed the distinct differences between how Bulma treated him and how she treated Kakarot in this kind of situation. Any time Vegeta managed to tell her that he needed to go while they were out together— or he failed to keep his squirming subtle enough and she realized his bladder was full on her own— she didn’t respond to him like this. She NEVER groaned and told him to just hold it, nor did she tell him he should have relieved himself earlier. Instead, she’d encourage him to pee right away wherever they were, and when he inevitably refused and insisted he needed to go home, she would nod and allow him to do so.
    And, he NEVER begged and pleaded like Kakarot was doing. He’d just stammer and mumble the vaguest acknowledgement of his need that he could, and Bulma would let him go. Kakarot was acting FAR more desperate than Vegeta would EVER be able to allow himself to, but Bulma was just rolling her eyes and telling him to be patient.
    Vegeta shifted uncomfortably as he thought that over. Bulma was being far gentler with him, basically coddling him because of how awful his Problem was. Of course, he didn’t WANT Bulma to scold him or forbid him from flying home when he desperately needed to, but the realization that she was adjusting her behavior because he needed to be ‘accommodated’ stung. He wasn’t supposed to need special treatment over something as simple as pissing.
    ‘She only treats you differently because you’re married,’ Vegeta told himself. ‘It has nothing to do with your Problem. She just favors you over Kakarot— Like EVERYONE should!’ He knew that wasn’t it, though… Or at least, not ALL of it.
    They found a gas station eventually, and Vegeta watched Kakarot sprint out of the car, his hands between his legs the whole time he was running. Vegeta’s face burned with a confusing amount of embarrassment, HE wasn’t the one blatantly behaving like a fool… He wasn’t even getting out of the car. He had no reason to.
    Once Kakarot had entered the restroom, Vegeta found that he had to try VERY hard not to think about what his rival was doing in there. Vegeta’s own bladder was cramping quite a bit more now, and the knowledge that Kakarot was now accomplishing yet ANOTHER thing that Vegeta was incapable of was making the pressure hurt worse. He tried not to think about how relieved Kakarot must have been feeling, tried not to let the familiar grip of envy take hold of him once more— Not over something so STUPID!
    He shifted his legs just slightly, moving one ankle over the other. His gaze flew to Bulma beside him, and he relaxed a bit when she didn’t appear to be watching him. But, now his insides were demanding him to KEEP moving. Now that he’d allowed himself to squirm a little, he wanted to do it more…
    He gripped his knees to prevent them from bouncing, and hoped they weren’t THAT far from the hotel.
    Kakarot came back, and the moron was carrying some massive soda cups for some idiotic reason. “Vegeta, you gotta try this,” Kakarot said once he got back in the car. “It’s so good!”
    “Kakarot, after all that bitching and moaning you did about needing to piss, why the Hell would you drink so much?!”
    “Why not? It isn’t like I still have to pee now,” Goku shrugged.
    “But, if you drink ALL of that, then you’re just going to—“
    “And, besides, one of them is for you, or Bulma… Whichever one of you wants it.”
    Vegeta sighed as he accepted the cup. It was so big… The only way Vegeta would ever drink THAT much would be if he was at home and knew he wouldn’t have any reason to leave for the next several hours. No way was he drinking it when he was stuck in a car with no idea as to when they’d reach the hotel.
    Kakarot was noisily slurping from his cup, and it was getting on Vegeta’s nerves. The tingles in his midsection fluttered a little more violently as he was subjected to the sound. His urge for relief was worsening— And, even more aggravating than that, it was making him feel thirsty. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet today— A necessary precaution for a long trip like this. Now, his throat was painfully dry.
    The full soda cup resting beside him was extremely tempting, and the more he had to listen to Kakarot drink, the worse he felt.
    ‘One sip…’ Vegeta commanded himself. ‘Just ONE. Enough to get rid of that sand-paper feeling— Nothing more.’
    He reached for the cup and took a small, deeply hesitant sip. He knew that a few drops of soda would not be enough to break his bladder, but he was so timid about putting ANY liquid into himself when he’d have no way to get it back out again. When the fluid wetted his tongue, erasing the chalky sensation there, he felt a bit better. He really WAS thirsty…
    And, dammit, Kakarot was right! This soda DID taste amazing. He swallowed, and immediately had the urge to drink more. ‘No. No more,’ he thought. ‘A good warrior must be capable of restraint!’
    Kakarot kept drinking, loudly…
    Vegeta managed to ignore the soda for a few more minutes. It wasn’t easy. Now that he’d had ONE sip of something cold and wet, it was like he’d activated all of the nerve-endings in his throat and he was even MORE aware of how dehydrated he was. One, tiny sip hadn’t quenched his thirst, but had instead made it much worse.
    Eventually, the dry feeling got to be too much, and he took another sip. Fuck, it was delicious, and it felt so good pouring down his throat… Just a LITTLE bit more shouldn’t hurt, right? Just— Just a couple more swallows, just until his tongue stopped feeling so withered.
    ***
    ‘DAMMIT!’ Vegeta thought a little while later, when he realized he’d finished the entire cup. He certainly wasn’t thirsty anymore… But, he couldn’t take much relief in that, since he knew where all of that liquid was now heading, about to flood into a container that didn’t have a properly functional exit…
    His urge to pee had gotten a bit worse, it still wasn’t horrific or agonizing, but he could no longer ignore it, especially not with the knowledge of how much he’d just had to drink. He knew he had to stop thinking about it, concentrating on his bladder would just invite it to fill up faster. He was so frustrated with himself, though. How could he have allowed himself to drink all that, when he KNEW full well how badly it would turn out for him?!
    ‘Stupid Kakarot, why’d he have to give me this anyway?!’
    Speaking of Kakarot, the fool had finished his OWN soda ages ago, and was once again shuffling around in the backseat and pleading for a stop.
    Finally, to placate him, Bulma said something that instantly made Vegeta feel better. “We’re ALMOST at the hotel, Goku. Could you please hold on until then?”
    “Mmmmf, I’ll try!” Kakarot whined. “But, I have to go so bad!”
    Vegeta relaxed slightly. They were close to the hotel, and he had no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to pee there. They’d arrive, and he’d be able to take care of himself easily, with no one else needing to know about it.
    “Hold it in, Goku,” Bulma sighed. “You can do it.”
    “H—How much longer?” Kakarot asked, and Vegeta heard him squirming a little faster.
    “Thirty minutes,” Bulma said. “Alright? It won’t be that bad, I promise.”
    “Th—Thirty minutes,” Kakarot repeated. “Okay, okay… I think I can do thirty minutes.”
    Vegeta calmed down a bit more. HE could DEFINITELY do thirty minutes. He shifted a little in his seat when he remembered he and Kakarot were going to be sharing a room— Of course, he would have to let Kakarot go first. The idiot was about to piss his pants, after all. And, if Vegeta asked to take the first turn, that would be an admission that he was desperate— Such admissions were not permitted, and he WASN’T desperate!
    Not really, anyway. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to release his bladder, and his thighs were pressed a bit tightly together… And, yeah, maybe his legs were starting to shake a little, and he had to keep gripping his knees to keep them from bouncing. But, he was fine. He knew he could hold WAY more than this. He was fine.
    Thirty more minutes…
    When they finally got to the hotel, Vegeta had sweat on his brow, and he was constantly gripping his knees to force his legs to stay still. He was hyper-aware of Bulma beside him, and in spite of how much energy he was putting towards keeping himself still, he was convinced that he was SOMEHOW being obvious anyway, and that Bulma could easily tell that his bladder was throbbing urgently.
    Standing up for the first time in several hours was unpleasant. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought scornfully when his knees tried to buckle. ‘It’s just standing!’ But, his bladder was protesting loudly, and he felt like if he didn’t balance his weight JUST right, he’d end up doubling over and Bulma would know everything.
    “Mmmf!” Kakarot whimpered as he got out of the car. He was ALREADY doubling over, pitiful fool that he was… Vegeta felt his eyelid spasm when he saw Kakarot start to spring across the parking lot, over to a tree.
    No.
    Hell no.
    If… If Vegeta had to hold it, then so did Kakarot!
    “What are you doing, you moron?!”
    Kakarot looked back over his shoulder.
    “Goku, no!” Bulma scolded him. “Wait until we’re inside.”
    Kakarot anxiously stopped what he was doing and just continued to squirm as they entered the hotel. Vegeta tried to stay as far away from Kakarot as Bulma handled everything to get them checked in. Kakarot was being so… So OBVIOUS. Even if he would shut the HELL up and stop whining to Bulma about how much he had to pee, his constant fidgeting and bouncing would still be enough!
    How could Kakarot stand to ACT that way in public? Vegeta felt disgraced and ashamed if he squirmed that blatantly when he was ALONE! Vegeta was feeling himself burn up just watching Kakarot fidget. The embarrassment of being seen NEAR him when he was acting like this was almost as bad as if Vegeta had been the one dancing around like a complete imbecile.
    “Why isn’t there a bathroom in the lobby?” Kakarot complained as he paced in place beside Bulma. “That’s not fair.”
    Vegeta groaned and tried to act as though he’d never seen Kakarot before in his entire life. Without his notice, his foot had begun to tap with impatience. Yes. Impatience. And nothing else…
    He was also becoming aware of something else. His body was coming alive, and he could sense a ton of unfamiliar chi signals here. He knew he ought to have expected that, other people would be staying in this hotel too. But, since he couldn’t STOP sensing that energy, it was a little annoying. Distracting. He hoped the sensation wouldn’t keep him awake tonight.
    “Okay,” Bulma said, turning to Kakarot. “This is for yours and Vegeta’s r—“
    Kakarot grabbed the key out of her hand, “Vegeta, come on! Hurry!”
    Vegeta sighed and started to follow Kakarot, but stopped him when they reached the elevator. “No, Kakarot. We’re taking the stairs.”
    Kakarot looked at him as if he were being tortured… Which he kind of was. “What?! No, Vegeta! If you wanna race me up the stairs, I can’t do that right n—“
    “That’s not the reason,” Vegeta said. “I just highly doubt your ability to hold still in there. And, if you tap your foot as hard as you’ve BEEN doing it, you’ll break the elevator. And there are few things I want LESS than to be stuck in an elevator with YOU when you’re about to piss yourself.” His bladder pinched and his tip flared, reminding him that being stuck in an elevator would be a miserable time for him for a LOT of reasons. He shifted, very slightly, trying to calm the thrashing inside him.
    “Well, if the elevator gets stuck, we can blast our way out,” Kakarot reasoned.
    “Bulma will kill us,” Vegeta said. “Just walk up the stairs. I know you’re capable of that.”
    Kakarot’s eyes were watering, “But, I might… You know…” Kakarot was actually blushing… That was… Weird to see.
    “You won’t,” Vegeta groaned. “Now, come on.”
    Kakarot whimpered and complained the whole way up the stairs. His teeth were gritting, he was dragging his feet, and pausing every couple steps to jiggle around and take some stabilizing breaths. Vegeta actually… Slowed his pace a little. Not out of ‘concern’ or any asinine feeling like that, but merely because… Well, it would reflect poorly on ALL Saiyans if Kakarot pissed himself in public. That was all.
    They got to their room. Kakarot’s hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t unlock the door. He dropped the key a few times, and Vegeta had to try very hard not to let out a laugh that would have surely sent his own bladder into spasms. But, once Kakarot started to position his hands as if he were about to BLAST the door open, Vegeta had to step in.
    “Let ME do it, incompetent clown…” Vegeta grumbled, unlocking the door for him.
    “Thank you!” Kakarot exclaimed, rushing in.
    Vegeta stepped in after him, and there were problems.
    First, the idiot hadn’t bothered shutting the door to the restroom, so Vegeta had to quickly turn away to avoid having to watch him piss. Second, Kakarot was being so damned loud. His stream was gushing out with an ear-splitting hiss, and the fool was moaning his head off, too. Vegeta’s bladder gave a cramping lurch at the noises, and without meaning to, he started to bounce on his toes.
    He stepped further into the room in an attempt to escape that obnoxious sound, and was met with another, even worse problem.
    One bed.
    WHAT?! Bulma had ASSURED him that they would at least have separate beds! He was going to have to convince Kakarot to sleep on the floor again.
    And he could STILL hear the idiot pissing! Why did he have to gasp and pant and sigh so much?! Vegeta kicked off his boots and laid down on the bed, he turned on his side and covered his ears because… Because that sound was just so ANNOYING. That was it! And… And his thighs were just tensing up because he was THAT annoyed, yeah! His legs were only trying to cross because of how much Kakarot was irritating him.
    Kakarot finished after a few more seconds. Vegeta rolled his eyes when the fool exited the restroom without washing his hands off— Another reason to make Kakarot stay on the floor tonight, he had atrocious hygiene.
    “Oh, man…” Kakarot said. “That’s a lot better.”
    Vegeta sat up, thought his legs looked a little TOO close together, and forced them to inch outwards until he was sure it didn’t look like he had to pee at all. His spine shuddered when the next spasm went through him. “Fantastic, Kakarot,” he sighed, gesturing to the bed. “We have bigger problems right now.”
    Kakarot looked at him for a second, confusion etched on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry, Vegeta!” He said finally.
    “Yeah, you’re gonna have to sleep on th—“
    “I didn’t realize you had to go, too! I shoulda shut the door to muffle the sound just now, huh?”
    Vegeta twitched. How— How could he tell?! How could he ALWAYS tell?! Vegeta looked down at himself, he didn’t think he looked tense… Well, not any tenser than usual, anyway. “I— Kakarot, I’m referring to the BED.”
    Kakarot looked at it. “What about it?”
    “There’s only one,” Vegeta said.
    Kakarot shrugged, “Yeah, but it’s a big bed. We’ll both fit.”
    “That isn’t the point.”
    “… What IS the point, then?”
    “The point is that I don’t WANT to sleep with you.”
    “We’ve slept near each other before,” Kakarot said. “What’s the big deal?” He glanced at Vegeta again. “You need to use the restroom…”
    Why did he have to say that so loudly?! Or at all?! “Kakarot, shut up about that—“
    “Um…” Kakarot trailed off. “Hmm… So, what will work best for you here? I could go back downstairs for a bit, so you’ll have lots of privacy. Oh, and I’ll go to the buffet, so I won’t even be THINKING about what you’re doing in here.”
    Vegeta decided that probably WOULD be the easiest way to handle this. Sure, he could pee around Kakarot, but it was still easiest if he was by himself. He was going to be alone, so he wouldn’t NEED Kakarot to keep watch for him, or… Say anything. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t get banned from the buffet.”
    “No promises,” Kakarot said. “But, I’ll try.”
    That was probably the best Vegeta could ask for.
    Once Kakarot had left, Vegeta stepped into the restroom. He locked the door. He was surprised by the state of the toilet, Kakarot’s aim wasn’t AS bad as he’d thought it would be. He readied himself to go, and… Nothing.
    He didn’t get too worried, though. It ALWAYS took a couple minutes. He had expected this. What he hadn’t expected was to STILL be feeling all those unfamiliar chis inside the hotel, and for that to make him continually grow tense rather than start to loosen up.
    ‘Ignore them,’ he ordered himself. ‘They’re in different rooms. No one know that you’re… Trying to void.’ He shut his eyes, tried to block out the chis, reminding himself again and again that he was alone, behind a locked door. That, even if he could SENSE people, they still weren’t close enough to listen to his stream pour out.
    He felt a sharp throb right at his opening, and started to press into that since he knew it would bring him the relief he needed if he just pushed hard enough now. But, then he realized he could sort of HEAR people in the other rooms, too. And, the urgent pinch at his tip faded away, leaving nothing but a scorching, disappointing throb harshly careening through his bladder and down his length.
    ‘Dammit…’ Vegeta thought. ‘Come on, you are ALONE. You can DO this. You’re stronger than this! You’re too powerful to lose to your bladder!’ As he went through a mental list of all the things Kakarot tended to say to him during this moments, it began to dawn on him exactly WHY Bulma had wanted the two of them to share a room.
    Bulma had known that this was going to happen.
    Bulma had known that he was going to need Kakarot.
    That realization tightened his uncooperative holding muscles up more than anything. Bulma had just EXPECTED him to need help; Help with something that he should NEVER need help with! Help with something that he should have been able to manage just FINE on his own!
    And the worst part was that she was RIGHT.
    The shame that overtook him then was breathtaking. He was becoming so dependent on Kakarot for something so BASIC and necessary! This shouldn’t have been happening. He shouldn’t need Kakarot like this. He should have been fixing it himself.
    It was getting late. He was kind of hungry, but he didn’t want to join Kakarot in the buffet when his bladder was still aching so much. He allowed himself to hope Kakarot would just save him something, he was going to dedicate all of this alone time towards ridding himself of this awful pressure.
    First, he tried flicking on the sink, he tried listening to IT instead of the faint voices he could hear from the other rooms. His bladder swelled and convulsed, as if the water was battering right up against it, but it failed to release.
    Grumbling, he tore off one of his gloves, then turned on the hot tap. Once the water was warm enough, he shoved his palm beneath the faucet. His entire midsection felt like it was on fire, and he felt a dull ache begin to creep up his back, the prelude to the ultimate torture that his bladder could inflict on him. He tried not to think of the pain that was on the horizon if he didn’t get himself emptied soon.
    Maybe… Maybe MORE warm water would work. Another idea was forming. He didn’t like it. It was unsanitary, and he’d NEVER consider doing such a thing if he were at home, but here, in a hotel room… That shower had probably had LOTS of disgusting things take place within it.
    Ugh, was he seriously considering this? It was so dirty, and utterly desperate! But, Vegeta WAS desperate. His back was starting to hurt, and it was only a matter of time now before that pain increased to the scorching, agonizing acid burns that destroyed his ability to think and function. He NEEDED to get this pressure out.
    He went to get his pajamas, then removed his clothing. Once everything was off, he could see the gnarled bump of his full bladder. He gazed at it warily, moving his hands further away from his abdomen as he imagined what it would feel like to accidentally brush his knuckles against that. He was USED to his bladder swelling, it was a normal thing to see, but it always made him wince to be able to stare at the source of his agony.
    He turned the shower on, struggling to figure out how to get it to the right temperature, then stood beneath the spray. The hiss from the shower-head sounded a LOT like what Vegeta so desperately needed to do. It made him fidget a bit, rubbing his knees together anxiously and tensing his thighs. When he caught his hand moving to grasp hold of his dick, he stopped himself. The goal was to release everything right here, that was not going to happen if he squirmed and clutched at himself like he was trying to hold it back.
    The warm water striking him felt nice. It soothed some of the tension in his shoulders, and he hoped it would do the same for other places. He shut his eyes and did his best to focus just on the sound of running water, the feeling of it warmly gliding down his back. He pleaded for it to lull his body into a state in which it could let go. ‘Come on… Come on…’
    ‘Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!’
    Wh—What?! What the Hell?! He recognized Frieza’s voice, the disgust and scorn in it, but had trouble placing the exact time he’d heard this statement being snapped at him. He knew it had to be a memory, it sounded too real to just be something he was making up.
    He didn’t know WHY he was being hit by a memory of Frieza scolding him now, when all he wanted to do was relieve his overflowing bladder in the privacy of the shower, but—
    Something was coming back. He was six, maybe seven. His planet was gone. He was on Frieza’s ship and he had to GO. But, he didn’t dare ask Frieza for permission to do so. He couldn’t! Raditz was there too. Vegeta had to appear strong and infallible in front of the other remaining Saiyans. He was not allowed to show that he had any needs.
    But, he needed to go so bad. It was hurting. Frieza was yelling, at him and at Raditz. Frieza was mad because they’d gotten so filthy during their last mission, and then they’d gotten mud inside the ship. Frieza was shouting that they needed to get washed, and sent them to the showers. Frieza stayed to monitor them, even though Vegeta really didn’t want Frieza to watch.
    Vegeta kept his back to Frieza the whole time and tried to wash himself off as fast as possible. He was so uncomfortable. Knowing Frieza could see him made him feel gross. He was used to showering with Raditz and he didn’t mind doing it. He minded Frieza being there. The running water from the shower-heads was making him need to go even more. He kept looking at the drain and wondering if he could let himself pee here. If it would mix with the other water so no one even noticed.
    Suddenly, Frieza growled “Are you kidding me, you pitiful, disgraceful little monkey?!” And Vegeta looked down in a panic, worried that he’d started to go without meaning to, but he hadn’t.
    “How dare you do THAT in my showers?” Frieza snapped. Vegeta heard him stomping forwards, but he was going over to Raditz. “That is DISGUSTING, you learn to hold your water, you filthy brat!” Then, Vegeta could hear Raditz crying as he was beaten. Vegeta hurried to finish washing the last of the soap off, then frantically put his clothes on before bolting from the bathing room. Like a coward. A coward that couldn’t protect one of the only other survivors from his planet.
    Now, Vegeta shook his head, trying to rid himself of that memory. Recalling ANYTHING about Frieza right now would not help him reach his goal. Recalling a time when he was so weak that he couldn’t even TRY to defend his fellow Saiyans was not going to help him. Recalling the sound of Raditz being beaten for peeing in a shower was not going to help him.
    Vegeta tried for a few more minutes to both release his bladder and erase that memory from his mind. He wished that he could understand why things from so long ago still hurt him— Why they sometimes seemed to hurt him worse NOW than they had in the moment. It made no sense, and it made him feel pathetic. Like, even though Frieza was dead, Vegeta STILL didn’t have the strength to defeat him. He was losing a battle against a corpse and, since his bladder still REFUSED to empty, he was once again losing a battle against himself.
    Vegeta gave up eventually, got out of the shower, put on his clothes and just forced himself to climb into bed. He was overwhelmed by how badly he had to urinate now. His bladder was SEARING, and no matter which way he turned, the pressure was severe. If he laid on his back, he felt his skin stretch over that angry, urgent bump of need. If he laid on his sides, he felt the liquid inside of him sloshing and battering against his bladder’s over-stretched walls. If he laid on his stomach, all of his weight pushed down on his lower abdomen and he was in so much pain that tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
    Since his solitude hadn’t granted him the relief he wanted, he decided to at least take advantage of it in order to squirm. He flailed around in the bed, crossing his legs like crazy and clutching at his crotch for dear life. All the contorting and twisting helped ease the pressure a little, but it was nothing compared to what he actually needed.
    Kakarot returned eventually, and Vegeta quickly covered himself up with the bedsheets since holding still was an impossibility. “The buffet was really good,” he informed with a smile. “I brought you some food, in case you’re hungry.”
    Vegeta had to pee so bad that he felt nauseas. He couldn’t eat a thing right now.
    Kakarot looked at him. “Feeling sleepy, huh?” He said. “Yeah, I’m tired too… Are you gonna make me sleep on the floor like last time?”
    Vegeta was too uncomfortable to argue. “No. Just… Stay on YOUR side of the bed, alright? Don’t touch me, don’t get too close.”
    “Okay, sure,” Kakarot said, heading towards the restroom.
    ‘Kakarot, I couldn’t go!’ The words were right on the tip of Vegeta’s tongue, but that was where they stayed. He just couldn’t get them any further. The shame held them back. Moments later, Kakarot was in the shower, and Vegeta was holding his pillow over his ears to block out the awful sound.
    Vegeta tried to fall asleep. He’d gone to sleep with his bladder already full plenty of times before, but it had been quite a while since he’d last needed to do that. At home, he could ALWAYS go before bed. Ohhh, he wanted to be at home. If he was at home, he would have peed ages ago. He wouldn’t have remembered anything about Frieza. He’d be comfortable, not about to explode, not coated in shame and embarrassment.
    The shower switched off, and Kakarot got into bed. He was staying on his own side, just like Vegeta wanted, but now he wished Kakarot would get a little closer, close enough to notice how uncomfortable Vegeta was without Vegeta needing to say or do anything.
    “G’night,” Kakarot said.
    “Stay on your side,” Vegeta responded.
    Somehow, Vegeta eventually managed to fall asleep.
    ***
    Vegeta woke up on a cot, inside a cell, somewhere in the lower decks of Frieza’s ship.
    “What… the… Hell…” he mumbled as he sat up. His bladder gave a painful nudge, telling him that he had to empty it right away. His back ached as well, punctuating the urgency of his need. He ignored that for the moment. “Why am I—“ He stopped, concentrated.
    He couldn’t sense Frieza, the Ginyus, Zarbon or anyone else who would be aboard this ship.
    He DID, however, sense Kakarot.
    Okay. This was a dream, then.
    This was not the kind of place he wanted to visit in a dream, though. He’d been locked inside cells like this one plenty of times, especially towards the end of his stint with Frieza when he’d just gotten so fed up with everything that he’d started talking back even more than usual. The cells were miserable places. The only thing inside was the cot and a toilet— A toilet which Vegeta always refused to use until all the lights had been shut off in the ship for the night.
    In the early days, Frieza’s prisoners were usually able to get OUT of the cells pretty easily. Vegeta had been strong enough to bend metal bars since the age of two. But, that had just required Frieza to get creative, in lieu of bars, the cells were now equipped with a force-field, and prisoners were outfitted with special collars of Frieza’s own creation— Collars which blocked the wearer from their own chi.
    Whenever Vegeta was placed in a cell, he was completely powerless in every sense of the word. With Vegeta’s chi control removed, his ability to even ATTEMPT fighting back or defending himself taken away, Frieza would enter his cell and… ‘Torture’ was the only word to describe what he inflicted onto Vegeta then.
    What came afterwards, when Frieza was finally finished with him, was always confusing. Once Frieza had stopped hurting Vegeta, once he’d stopped berating him, clawing him, tearing him up and unleashing Hell upon him in the form of relentless chi blasts, Frieza would begin to act very strangely.
    With Vegeta laying there, his power stolen, his body in agony, Frieza would start to smile. And not his usual, scornful smirk, either. The smile always looked genuine. He would stroke Vegeta’s hair gently and tell him how proud he was that he’d managed to endure all of that pain so well. “You know I don’t ENJOY needing to punish you, Prince…” Frieza always said. “You are the best fighter in my entire army— You’re my favorite, remember that. My favorite… Please don’t make me have to bring you in here again. This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
    And Vegeta would be confused, but praise from Frieza was so rare, and he would be in so much pain, so desperate for anything that would make him feel less worthless and broken… He’d allow Frieza to continue petting his hair and praising him. It felt good, and that was what hurt most of all.
    Sometimes, when Frieza released Vegeta from the cell, he’d present him with some kind of gift. A new style of armor no one else had access to yet, a type of food he really enjoyed, a chance to lead during an upcoming mission… And it would still be confusing, but Vegeta couldn’t turn any of it down— Especially not food.
    Vegeta didn’t like to remember this cell. Why had his brain decided to take him to it in his dreams?
    The things that happened in here were sick beyond all measure. Pain, agony, Frieza’s claws all over him. Vegeta had nearly died in this place more times than he could count. It was one of the few places he’d ever shed tears.
    Vegeta couldn’t even remember everything that was done to him in here. Some incidents came to him with perfect clarity, others were foggy and blurred. Others still were just… Not there; He could recall specific things he had been placed in the cell for, could remember Frieza arriving, but then it was like he skipped ahead in time to the moment he was finally let out, only aware that SOMETHING had happened because he could still remember how much pain he’d been in.
    The first time he’d been here, he thought he had been six. He’d mouthed off to Frieza one too many times, demanding that he be given more challenging planets to conquer, insisting he didn’t need help from low-level scum like Raditz or a glorified babysitter like Nappa. He boasted that he could handle missions all by himself. When Frieza scoffed and sneered in response, Vegeta snapped that one day he was going to be stronger than Frieza and all his top soldiers combined.
    So, Frieza had put him in the cell.
    Frieza had returned around one hour later and hissed “It’s time you learn your place, you wretched monkey runt… You are nothing. I am your owner. And you shall remain my property until I see fit to dispose of you.”
    Vegeta had never been able to remember what exactly happened after that. Just that every part of his body was utterly useless afterwards, all of it only capable of sending him endless volts of pain. There was not one piece of him that didn’t feel broken and shattered, not one area that wasn’t flooded with torment.
    He remembered that, along with the feeling of Frieza’s claws combing his hair, petting it like he would an animal as Vegeta laid blearily on his lap. “You did it, Prince Vegeta… You made it through. I’m so proud of you, you took your punishment so well. So tough for such a little warrior. I know, that was so awful, wasn’t it? I wish I hadn’t needed to do that. If you can be a good, obedient Saiyan for me, it won’t have to happen again… I don’t like seeing you suffer so much."
    Now, Vegeta’s heart-rate was skyrocketing just from being back here again, his awareness that it was only a dream did absolutely nothing to soothe him.
    ‘You’re sleeping, you’re sleeping, you’re sleeping,’ Vegeta reminded himself. ‘You can sense Kakarot. You know you’re not really here.’ But, everything looked real. It looked exactly how he remembered it. Even the blood stains on the cot were the same.
    His bladder pulsed again. He wanted to wake up and go empty it. He wanted to wake up and… And just not be HERE anymore. He tried to summon his chi and allow it to build inside of himself, which usually caused him to wake up. Not this time, though. He couldn’t feel his own chi, as if the collar was actually working. As if all of this was real.
    ‘Kakarot is near you!’ Vegeta thought desperately. ‘And Kakarot was never HERE, that means it’s not real.’ He pinched his thigh, he needed to wake up. He couldn’t be here anymore. His urge to pee was worsening, but that paled in comparison to how badly he just did NOT want to be in this room. ‘Wake up, wake up!’
    He didn’t wake up.
    Vegeta tried to focus really, REALLY hard on his need for the restroom, hoping that IT would prompt his body into wakefulness. He zeroed in on the discomfort straining inside his lower abdomen, the constant thrumming buzz of his building desperation. He even tried to ‘exaggerate’ how bad it was, telling himself that he was about to burst and couldn’t hold it another second, in a vain attempt to get himself to open his eyes. ‘Wake up! Wake up, or you’ll wet the bed!’
    If his bladder didn’t wake him up, then what would? His pulse was already racing with fear as he had a bad feeling he knew what this dream was about to force him to relive.
    Frieza appeared on the other side of the forcefield. He punched in a code and entered the cell. “Well, Prince Vegeta, how have you been enjoying your confinement?”
    Vegeta said nothing and pleaded with himself to wake up. He didn’t bother trying to take ‘control’ of this dream and blast Frieza to death, he already knew that it wouldn’t work. He didn’t have any control here, he was going to be put through everything again. It was going to happen again.
    “Answer me, monkey!” Frieza snapped when Vegeta stayed quiet for too long.
    “I—It’s… Fine…” Vegeta said. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to Frieza in real-life when he’d been in here. All he could remember was how loud he had screamed, how his vocal cords had fried, how his ears had rung, how his shrieks of pain had made his body hurt even worse but he’d been completely incapable of holding them in.
    “Just fine?” Frieza asked, putting a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “You insult me, Prince. I went to all this trouble making these lovely accommodations just for you, I even got you that nice collar.”
    Vegeta felt the collar, it was choking him. It felt so real.
    ‘Kakarot…’ Vegeta told himself. ‘Focus on Kakarot. He’s right there.’ He hated himself for all the reminders, for the way that Kakarot’s presence was the only thing making him feel okay as he was overcome with terror from a stupid nightmare.
    “Oh, Vegeta, is that making it hard for you to breathe?” Frieza’s tail flicked. “How about I help you with that?”
    Before Vegeta could react, Frieza’s tail had lashed out and wound itself around his throat. “Gih—Guh—!”
    ’This is a dream,’ Vegeta thought again and again and again. But, all the reassurances in the world couldn’t make the pain fade. He could feel himself losing oxygen, could feel the bones in his neck starting to break as Frieza’s tail squeezed against them. Frieza kept tightening the grip until those bones were just about to snap apart, and then he eased up. He just wouldn’t stop…
    “I am not going to make this fast for you,” Frieza warned. “I’ve had enough of your defying me. You will pay the price.”
    Vegeta’s need to pee was getting worse, too. He tried to focus on that pain, because he knew IT was real. He knew IT posed a real danger. The sensations of Frieza trying to break his neck were all fake, he wasn’t ACTUALLY about to suffocate. But, the pressure in his bladder DID exist, and if he didn’t keep control over it, he’d burst and pee the bed— Which would be beyond terrible since he could still sense Kakarot near him.
    ‘Kakarot… Kakarot…’ Vegeta chanted to himself in his mind. ‘He’s there. You’re okay. This is fake.’
    Frieza’s tail finally released Vegeta’s neck, and Vegeta crumpled onto the floor. His bladder seared more, pain flaring in his tip and he gripped his hands against the ground to avoid holding himself. He didn’t know why he was bothering, why the idea of holding himself in front of Frieza was still so shameful when he knew this was all imaginary.
    “Now,” Frieza said. “Are you ready to be polite?”
    Vegeta nodded. The room was spinning and he felt light-headed. He hoped against hope that that was a sign he was starting to wake up, but no such luck.
    “There’s a good monkey…” Frieza smirked. “Now, let’s see YOUR tail, shall we?”
    Frieza grabbed Vegeta’s tail and, preposterously, Vegeta felt the pressure. This made even less sense than the choking had! He didn’t even HAVE a tail anymore in the real-world! How could he still feel—
    Vegeta screamed at the top of his voice when, a moment later, he felt something sharp dig itself against the tip of his tail, felt it penetrate through the skin, through the muscle and sinew, felt it scrape against the bone. His eyes rolled back in his head as one of the worst pains he’d ever felt drove him to the brink of insanity. ‘Not real, not real!’ He kept shouting at himself. ‘Why the Hell do I still FEEL it?!”
    Frieza shoved him forwards, releasing his tail. Vegeta turned back around just in time to see Frieza lick the blood he’d drawn out of his tail off of his extremely long, pointy finger nail. “Well, that was amusing! I could cause you THAT much pain just with one nail? You really ARE pathetic, you know that, monkey?”
    Vegeta’s eyes were tearing up, and his legs were shaking. His tail hung limply, still bleeding. ‘Not real! Focus on what’s real!’ That was, perhaps, a bad decision, because when he again concentrated on his bladder, the one thing he knew was ACTUALLY causing him distress, the pins and needles inside of it caught fire, and the pressure at the base of his cock flared to life. “Ah—“ He crossed his legs, unsure of if his body was REALLY squirming in the waking world or not. He didn’t think so, because the action didn’t ease the pain in his bladder at all, nor did the jiggling and foot tapping that followed.
    Frieza grinned wider at him, “Oh, does the little Prince need to go pee?”
    ‘Dream!’ Vegeta screamed inside his mind. ‘Just— Just—‘ “Shut up!” He barked at Frieza, and his blood ran cold.
    “Did you just tell me to shut up?” Frieza asked.
    Vegeta didn’t respond, he just kept shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or desperation that was responsible. He HOPED it was just desperation, still mentally scolding himself for getting so damned scared when he KNEW none of this was actually happening.
    “Nnnh…” Vegeta tangled his legs up even tighter. ‘Come on, wake up! You have to use the bathroom!’ His bladder screeched and its walls strained, trying to pump something out. Nothing happened, of course. Not with Frieza WATCHING him.
    ‘He’s NOT watching you!’
    “Ohhh, poor little monkey,” Frieza said. “He needs to go so, SO bad, doesn’t he?” He reached out a hand and cupped it over Vegeta’s bladder, which was swollen and tender to the touch. “Look at this, you’re starting to look a little round at the edges now…” Frieza gave Vegeta’s bladder a squeeze, as if it were a ripe orange.
    The pain of THAT felt even more real than any of the other imagined torments his dream had subjected him to. Immediately, an explosion of agony rippled through his bladder, referring up around his rib cage and crashing down against his opening. Tears started to fall and he moaned as heat built up in his length, and for a second he thought he was going to leak, but the feeling disappeared back into the throbbing, awful, urgent pulsing of his bladder yet again.
    “This is quite amusing, Vegeta…” Frieza said. “I may not even have to use any of my powers on you today. I can punish you fine with just my bare hands.” He mashed his hand against Vegeta’s bladder twice more, each time eliciting grunts and groans of displeasure as Vegeta’s body fought a war with itself. Then, Frieza shoved him to the floor. Vegeta quickly rolled onto his side, curling over on himself in an effort to shield his bladder from the onslaught, but Frieza forced him back around. “LOOK at me when I’m punishing you, Vegeta! I didn’t tell you you could turn away!”
    “I—“
    “This calls for more discipline!” Frieza declared, lifting a leg and stomping down on Vegeta’s lower stomach, pressing his full weight atop Vegeta’s bladder. Vegeta’s body reacted with a surge of screaming agony, his aching sphincters lit ablaze against the grotesque pressure. His back flared and nausea burned a line up his throat. ‘Ahhh… Stop, Frieza!’ Vegeta thought. ‘Please, please! Just stop! I’m gonna be sick! I’m gonna— Not real, not real, not real!’
    He was able to feel Kakarot’s chi more clearly now, and that— That was GOOD. He could sense Kakarot, which made him constantly aware that this was just a dream. He could sense Kakarot, so the real Frieza was dead. He could sense Kakarot, so none of this was happening. None of the pain was real, none of the shame, none of the humiliation.
    “BEG me,” Frieza commanded. “BEG me, and perhaps I will be merciful!”
    “Never!” Vegeta shouted. “Not even in a dream!”
    “Then I’m going to have to make you explode…” Frieza said, stomping once more on Vegeta’s bladder, causing the pain in Vegeta’s back to ignite with a new fury. “BEG ME!” Frieza ordered. “Beg me to let you piss, beg me like the pathetic creature you are!”
    “NO!”
    More stomping, more pain.
    ‘Not real, not real, not real—‘
    “Pl—Please!” Vegeta cried out, and it was like the nightmare had taken complete control over him, too, forcing him to act in a way he never would, forcing him to endure the pitiful sound of his own voice, of the words he couldn’t hold back. “Please! Please, just let me relieve myself! Please, I’m begging you!”
    He couldn’t make the words stop coming, and his horror increased as more of them spilled forth. This was even more terrifying than any of the OTHER things his nightmare had been subjecting him to. At least, with the memories of physical torture, there had been a tiny part of him that could be proud for his ability to endure… There was nothing to take pride in here.
    “Please, please! I have to— I need to relieve myself! Please, let me go!”
    “Beg MORE,” Frieza barked.
    “Please, I’ll do anything!” Vegeta could do nothing to keep himself quiet, his dream-self wouldn’t obey him, his dream-self wanted him to be humiliated and ashamed. “Please! I need to go! It hurts!”
    Something shifted and Vegeta could feel Kakarot more strongly than ever, that was good! He wanted to keep feeling Kakarot! He needed Kakarot!
    ***
    Goku woke up, and all his grogginess faded in an instant when he registered how badly he needed to pee. His bladder was exploding, and it felt like it was caught in some kinda—
    Hang on, what?!
    Even after all of those ‘STAY ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED!’ demands, Vegeta was pressed RIGHT up against Goku. More than that, he had his arms wrapped around Goku’s waist as tightly as he did sometimes when they fought! His legs were coiled around Goku’s as well. Vegeta was literally CLINGING to him, like he’d die if he let go, like he couldn’t get close enough to him.
    And, that would have been fine normally! Goku liked being hugged when he was sleepy. And Vegeta was giving him a really tight, cozy hug right now.
    There were just a few problems with that. First, Vegeta was the least snuggly person in the universe, so Goku was really confused by this turn of events. It was pretty warm in the room, so he doubted Vegeta was just seeking extra heat. If Vegeta woke up and discovered himself in this position, Goku knew he was going to be yelled at— It wouldn’t matter that Vegeta had been the one doing all the cuddling, he’d come up with some reasoning for why it was Goku’s fault.
    Second, Goku needed to use the bathroom SO bad! And, Vegeta was, indeed, latched onto him with the same amount of force he employed during battles. Whenever he gripped him this way in a fight, Vegeta always managed to get quite a few decent hits in before Goku broke free. And, in order to actually GET free, Goku would have to power up and basically LAUNCH Vegeta off of himself.
    Vegeta would not be pleased to be woken up that way. And Goku would be in a lot of trouble if he destroyed one of the walls here by slamming Vegeta through it.
    But, just wriggling out of Vegeta’s grasp didn’t tend to work. Vegeta reacted too fast, adjusting his hold in whatever way was necessary to keep Goku in place.
    Maybe he wouldn’t be able to do that in his sleep, though.
    Goku tried to squirm free, hoping that since Vegeta wasn’t alert, he wouldn’t respond to anything Goku did.
    Nope. Just as Goku started to ease his way out of Vegeta’s grasp, Vegeta tugged him back, hanging on even tighter. What’s worse, he’d changed the position of his arms slightly— Just enough so that he was now squeezing Goku’s bladder far worse than he had been before.
    “Ah—Nnnh…” Goku gritted his teeth, squirming his legs and turning around as much as he was able to. If he couldn’t get Vegeta to let go, he at least wanted those strong arms away from his bladder!
    He managed to get into a position that didn’t hurt AS much, but the waters inside of him refused to calm down. He had to pee, and he had to do it NOW. He thought that if he just got Vegeta’s legs untangled from his own, he’d be able to stand up and walk with Vegeta still clinging to him like this. His bladder would make that difficult, but not impossible.
    He tried shoving Vegeta’s legs aside, but that only prompted Vegeta to wrap their limbs tighter together. Everything Goku did only made Vegeta hold onto him even more firmly!
    “Vegetaaaa,” Goku whined. “Let go!”
    Vegeta nuzzled his face into Goku’s side, but other than that he didn’t move.
    This was so weird! Was Vegeta’s sleeping brain mistaking Goku for Bulma? Goku had a hard time picturing Vegeta even snuggling Bulma like this!
    “Vegeta,” Goku said once more. “I promise I won’t tell anybody that you hugged me all night, but ONLY if you let me get up right now!” He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about Vegeta’s strange clinging anyway, but he needed to get through to him somehow.
    What had gotten into him? WAS he too cold in here? Goku reached and tried to pull the blanket up around Vegeta a bit more to see if that did anything, but again Vegeta pulled Goku closer and now his fingers were kneading into his bladder!
    “Ouch!” Goku exclaimed as a bright hot bolt of urgency shot down his length. He felt a scorching pressure at his opening, which was immediately followed by a short dribble of pee. “Vegeta, stop it! You’re gonna make me pee the bed!” He paused then, hoping the threat would reach Vegeta’s consciousness somehow, added “I’ll pee the bed, and it’ll get on BOTH of us, so it’ll look like YOU did it too!”
    Vegeta remained glued to him.
    “Hnnng, come ON,” Goku cried, wondering how his loud voice alone hadn’t been enough to wake Vegeta up. What the Hell was he dreaming about? Goku didn’t think he was dreaming of a fight— If he was, he would have been flailing, instead of refusing to BUDGE. When Vegeta turned his head slightly, Goku was able to see his expression.
    His brows were furrowed like they did whenever he was angry. He was sweating, clammy, and a moment later he made a strange, distressed noise, and he shook against Goku.
    “… Are you having a nightmare?” Goku asked, softer now. “Is that it? Is… Is hugging me making you feel safe?” It was a strange thing to consider, Vegeta being frightened to the point that he was clinging to Goku for comfort. But, Goku didn’t think the idea was too far-fetched, either.
    Goku remembered the time he and Vegeta had been trapped inside of Buu’s body. They’d encountered a group of worms, and Vegeta had been REALLY freaked out. So much so that he’d stayed behind Goku, using his rival as some kind of ‘shield’ between himself and the worms. He’d even held onto Goku’s shoulders a couple of times, so tightly that they'd ached.
    And Goku had just LET him do all that. He hadn’t given Vegeta a hard time about it, either. Instead he’d just carried on as if it wasn’t even happening, giving NO acknowledgement to Vegeta’s fear. If letting Vegeta hide behind him and cling onto him made him feel better, then Goku didn’t mind. He’d understood that was what Vegeta needed. He’d understood that, if Vegeta was ALLOWING himself to behave in such a way, he must have been extremely scared, and denying him comfort, or teasing him for it even a little, would have been cruel.
    Vegeta seemed to be having an atrocious nightmare, he was scared and he needed comfort. And… If clinging to Goku GAVE him that comfort, then Goku supposed he could let it happen. Even if he did really, REALLY need to pee…
    “It’s okay, Vegeta,” Goku said, trying to ignore the sharp, brutal throbs in his bladder. “I… Mmmf… I can hold it a little longer.” Still, he made one more attempt to wake Vegeta up, giving him a gentle nudge. “You’re just having a bad dream, open your eyes and it’ll be over.”
    Vegeta’s nightmare was too strong, though. He didn’t wake up, and Goku felt bad. He didn’t know what Vegeta’s brain was choosing to torment him with tonight, but if it was making Vegeta THIS scared, it must have been awful.
    Goku kept watching him for a few seconds. Then, anxiously, he put a hand onto Vegeta’s shoulder and rubbed it. Vegeta would KILL him if he saw that, but it just felt like the right thing to do now. As did his next words, “Whatever’s scaring you, I’m sure you’re strong enough to beat it.” He squirmed as much as he could with Vegeta wrapped around him. His lower stomach actually hurt from how desperately he had to pee. He was even feeling a little nauseated by the continued pressure. But, he thought Vegeta needed him right now more than HE needed a bathroom.
    He smoothed his hand down Vegeta’s side, again all-too-aware of how furious his friend would be for such an action. “It’s alright, Vegeta. It’s just a dream,” he said. He tensed his thighs up against another awful jolt from within. He wasn’t fast enough, and a quick jet of liquid hissed between his legs. “It’s… Mmmf…” Goku winced, feeling sweat pouring down his face. “It’s gonna be okay. Everybody has nightmares sometimes. You can defeat this one.”
    Vegeta’s eyes finally opened and, when they did, they blew wide. Goku expected him to start shouting at him. ‘WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME, KAKAROT?! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT STAYING ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED?!’ He expected Vegeta to pull away from him as if he were the most disgusting thing in the universe. He expected Vegeta to threaten him to NEVER speak of this accidental snuggling again.
    But, none of that happened.
    What happened instead utterly confused Goku. Vegeta released him, and shook like he was in an earthquake. His arms spasmed uncontrollably as he wrapped them around himself, his chest was heaving, and a strange noise came out of his mouth. He was breathing, but it sounded all wrong. Rapid-fire inhales and exhales, and it was like he still wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs, because his breathing speed continued to increase, becoming more and more desperate.
    His chi was going totally ballistic, too. Rising and falling in rapid waves, flaring out of control.
    Goku was usually so GOOD at reading body-language, especially Vegeta’s. He was good at predicting what a person would do next based on how they were moving now. But this time he just didn’t understand, he had no idea what Vegeta was doing, or what he was going to do. He knew Vegeta was really scared, however this seemed like something MORE than that.
    “Vegeta?!” Goku asked, startled. “What’s happening?! Are you okay?!”
    “K—Kakar— Kakar—“ Vegeta struggled, then seemed to just give up, he continued to hug himself, continued to fight for air, and Goku didn’t understand!
    Goku tried rubbing his back, because he didn’t know what to do, and he remembered that sometimes Chi-Chi rubbed HIS back when he had to get a shot and it made him feel better. He had no idea what to say. Everything about this was so confusing to him, he thought Vegeta probably needed Bulma right now, but Bulma wasn’t HERE, and Goku wasn’t sure how to fix this— He didn’t even know what was WRONG with Vegeta!
    Feeling Vegeta’s chi continuing to spike and flare, Goku concentrated harder and tried to transfer some of his OWN energy into his friend. He tried to put every bit of relaxation and calm into it that he could. This required him to un-focus completely from his bladder and he started to leak slowly, but he ignored that.
    He just kept rubbing Vegeta’s back, and when Vegeta’s chi started to calm down and his breathing began to slow, Goku hoped that meant he was doing something right. What was happening? Goku had never done THAT after a nightmare before.
    But, Vegeta had sure had a lot of really scary things happen to him before. Maybe that meant his nightmares were scarier than Goku’s? “V— Vegeta…?” He began, hesitant.
    Vegeta’s breathing and energy had both stabilized, and now he was just sitting there, his face pale save for splotches of red. His eyes squeezed closed. He still had his arms around himself, his legs were fidgeting.
    Goku’s bladder throbbed again, and he felt a trickle escape. He pushed a hand against his crotch to clamp off the flow. It hurt. He just wanted to keep peeing… Vegeta had let go of him, and Vegeta was breathing properly again. Goku could just get up and relieve himself now. But, he STILL didn’t feel right leaving Vegeta alone right now.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta managed to say. “Do NOT tell anyone about… That…”
    “I won’t,” Goku promised, adjusting his position slightly so he could look directly into Vegeta’s eyes. His bladder sloshed, protesting even that tiny motion, and he needed to tighten his grip on himself to avoid another spill. “I promise. I mean, I don’t know WHAT just happened, so how would I even tell anybody?”
    “…Good,” Vegeta said after a moment.
    “What… What was that, though?” Goku asked. “I can tell you were having a nightmare, ‘cause of how you were holding onto me, and—“
    Vegeta scowled and turned himself further away. “A nightmare, Kakarot?! Do you think I’m a child?”
    “No,” Goku said. “But, everybody has bad dreams, and I started thinking about all the stuff you’ve been through, so I was wondering if you were, like, remembering something bad, and that’s why you were so… Upset?” He made sure to avoid using the word ‘afraid’. Vegeta was already in the process of shutting down and closing Goku out, acknowledging that his friend had been feeling terrified would cause the conversation to end completely.
    “It was just a dream,” Vegeta said firmly, shifting around with discomfort. His shoulders shook. “I’m fine.”
    “But… What HAPPENED in the dream?”
    “That doesn’t matter.”
    “Vegeta…” Goku said. Internally, he was scolding himself. Vegeta didn’t WANT to discuss this, and Goku DID want to get out of bed and pee! If he dropped the subject, then they’d BOTH get what they desired— But only ONE of them would get what they actually needed.
    Goku needed to pee, but Vegeta needed to talk. If they didn’t do that now, then it would NEVER get done.
    “You can tell me,” Goku said. “No matter what it is, I won’t… Tease you, or whatever you’re so worried about. I swear.”
    “On Frieza’s ship, there were a few cells. I’d be sent to one whenever I managed to piss off Frieza badly enough. He’d make me wear a collar that prevented me from controlling my chi, so that I had no way to fight back, and then he’d come in and punish me. I was dreaming about that, but it was JUST a dream, so it’s no big deal. Stop worrying about it.”
    Goku’s eyes widened. He could only imagine what Frieza did to ‘punish’ someone, especially after he’d completely removed their ability to defend themselves. He didn’t even WANT to picture it. Just the idea of having his strength and powers cut off from him was frightening— But to then have someone as ruthless as Frieza come around and ‘punish’ him, too…
    Goku didn’t press Vegeta for details. He understood enough now, Vegeta’s nightmare had been a memory of himself being tortured. His clinging and hyperventilating made perfect sense. “… Do you need Bulma?” He asked. “Do you need to talk t—“
    “No,” Vegeta interrupted. “Don’t disturb her rehearsing over this nonsense.”
    “I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Goku said. “Sounds like you got hurt super bad…”
    Vegeta tensed up again and grit his teeth. “If… If he hadn’t stuck that damned collar on me, I could have—“
    “You could have,” Goku agreed. “That’s WHY he made you wear the collar, he didn’t want you to have a chance.”
    Vegeta continued to shift around, looking more uncomfortable. Goku frowned, he was trying his best to make him feel better, but he was just getting more fidgety and upset.
    “And, yeah, like you said— It was just a dream. Frieza’s dead now, he’ll never do anything like that again to anyo—“
    “K—Kakarot!” Vegeta interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut again and shakily getting out of bed. There were tremors running all through his legs, he let go of his chest and let his hands fall down by his sides, clenching them into fists. “You— I— I must… Attend to something else right now!”
    “Vegeta,” Goku started to say. Vegeta was trembling so much, clearly still on-edge from his nightmare. “Come on, I wanna help y—“
    “I—In a minute!” Vegeta insisted, starting to step away. He was still shaking so ba—
    Oh.
    Goku felt silly for not realizing this sooner, considering his OWN continued desperation, but now it was plainly obvious. Vegeta’s shudders weren’t from fear anymore— Or at least, not TOTALLY. Vegeta ALSO needed to pee badly.
    … Which meant Goku was gonna have to wait out here while Vegeta used the restroom. He was going to have to wait here, and possibly ‘encourage’ Vegeta to let it out as he so often did. He was going to have to wait until Vegeta managed to START peeing, and then for the SEVERAL minutes it always took him to finish. He was going to have to listen to his stream spraying out for ages, and just sit there in the bed and endure it. He was going to have to contain his already bursting bladder while Vegeta did what he was DYING to do.
    Goku didn’t think he could hold it through all of that. He’d burst, he’d pee uncontrollably all over himself and the bed. He’d be soaked, Vegeta would come back, see what he’d done, and be equal parts mortified and furious. He was sure Vegeta would be more humiliated by Goku’s accident than he himself was! Vegeta would be beyond embarrassed when he realized that the hiss of his own stream had been the thing to send Goku over the edge.
    “H—Hang on, Vegeta!” Goku blurted out. He NEEDED to go first! As much as he didn’t want to prolong Vegeta’s suffering, it was WAY less likely that his friend would wet himself while waiting. Plus, Goku would be finished far, FAR faster than Vegeta. It just made sense for Goku to pee first! “I gotta go, too!”
    Vegeta froze, and Goku could tell he was blushing. Goku knew how he was going to react. He felt guilty, but he was COUNTING on it; Vegeta’s pride would INSIST he let Goku pee first, just to prove once again that HIS bladder was superior. In Vegeta’s mind, demanding that he take the first turn would be an admission of defeat, a sign of weakness. Those were unhealthy modes of thinking, things Goku had been trying to get Vegeta PAST, but right now, he NEEDED Vegeta to keep feeling that way.
    “Kakarot…” Vegeta said, his voice much softer than usual. “I… Um… H—Haven’t gone at all since we got here…”
    What?! But— No! He wasn’t supposed to argue! He wasn’t supposed to— He should have been saying “Of COURSE you do, Kakarot! Your bladder is so tiny! You go first, I wouldn’t want you to piss everywhere and disgrace the legacy of every Saiyan who’s ever lived!”
    And… He hadn’t gone at all since they’d gotten there?! “But, I thought you went earlier! When I was—“
    “I— Shut up!” Vegeta huffed, turning away again.
    Oh, crap… Goku quickly readjusted to this new information, and it was easy to figure out what had happened. Vegeta HADN’T been able to go while he was downstairs. Then, when Goku got back up here, he’d been too embarrassed to admit it, to accept that the reasoning behind their ‘sleeping arrangement’ tonight had been sound, and that he did, in fact, need Goku’s help.
    So, he’d gone to bed with his bladder still full, and Goku had been too sleepy to realize it. The passage of time and the fear his nightmare had provoked had most likely worsened his need to a painful degree. So painful that, in a vague way, he was confessing that he didn’t think he could wait for Goku to pee first.
    But, Goku couldn’t wait for Vegeta, either! Vegeta always gushed like a broken fire hydrant for five minutes! No way could Goku hold it through that!
    An idea popped into Goku’s head, but it wasn’t one Vegeta was gonna like…
    “How about we go together?!” Goku asked.
    Vegeta went still again, save for the tremors of desperation that he was unable to restrain. “… What,” he asked, voice flat.
    “Er… You know, we stand next to each other and we both—“
    “Are you kidding me, Kakarot?! Hell no!”
    “Come oooon, Vegeta!” Goku whined. He scrambled to his feet, and immediately started to jiggle in place. “I really have to—“
    “No, Kakarot! Just be patient!”
    “But—“
    “No!”
    Goku chewed on his lower lip. His forehead was so sweaty. He felt like he’d waited a life-time already, and the additional time it would take for Vegeta to pee would be the death of him! Worst of all, he understood Vegeta’s refusal. He accepted it, he KNEW Vegeta just wasn’t gonna be COMFORTABLE doing this with him. But, still! He NEEDED Vegeta to do this with him! It was the only option left!
    “But, but— I’m gonna be out here waiting for you, and you’re gonna KNOW I’m waiting for you, so it’s gonna take you even longer to relax than usual, and it’s gonna be so hard for me to help you!”
    Vegeta turned back to stare at Kakarot. The glare in his eyes was one of the sharpest Goku had ever seen from him— And that was saying something. “Thanks, Kakarot! I wasn’t even THINKING about that until YOU brought it up!”
    Goku frowned, he wriggled his feet against the floor. “I’m sorry…”
    “Fine! You go first!” Vegeta snapped, and the way his knees buckled and rubbed together made it stunningly obvious how much he DIDN’T want to continue waiting.
    “But, you’re in pain, you’ve been holding it too long—“
    “Then, hurry up and—“
    “Let’s— Let’s just do it together,” Goku suggested again. “Or at least try to? ‘Cause, that way, if it gets really bad for you, you’ll be in the right spot?”
    Goku basically telling him that it was OKAY if he couldn’t actually make himself pee when they were side by side like that seemed to soften something in Vegeta. “… Fine, but don’t… Don’t LOOK at me at all when we’re in there.”
    “You already KNOW that I wouldn’t,” Goku promised, fighting to keep the relieved smile off his face as Vegeta finally agreed. “I’ve never looked before!” He paused. “… Not on purpose, anyway…” he mumbled.
    “What was that?!”
    “Nothing!”
    They entered the restroom together, and Vegeta’s shaking increased as soon as the door was shut. Goku pretended not to notice. He also pretended not to notice when Vegeta anxiously twisted the lock into place.
    They stood in front of the toilet, and Goku lowered his pants right away. Vegeta just stayed there with his fists clenching at his sides.
    Goku was having to work VERY hard not to just start peeing right then and there. He was supposed to be able to go now! He was at the toilet! “V—Vegeta, I’ve seen your thingy before,” he said, trying to calm his friend down some.
    “St—Stop REMINDING me of that as if it somehow makes this any better!” Vegeta’s shaking intensified as his hands hesitantly went for his waistband. “Don’t you DARE look, if you look, you DIE.”
    “I told you before I’m not gonna look!” Goku was shaking too now. “C—Come on, Vegeta, you’re ALREADY killing me here!”
    Vegeta continued to hesitate, then as a shudder went down his spine, he finally pulled himself out. He was shutting his eyes so tightly that his aim was sure to be absolutely terrible, but that didn’t matter because nothing was coming out of him.
    He felt so tense, every muscle he had was tied in a knot. And those knots were tied in knots, too. His ears weren’t picking up on as many sounds or voices this late into the night, but he could still sense so many unfamiliar chis!
    But, Kakarot’s was the strongest, the one he could feel the most. Kakarot, who didn’t care that the simple task of pissing took so much effort from him. Kakarot, who had just ALLOWED him to cling to him during the night, and then hadn’t said a word about it. Kakarot, who hadn’t made fun of him when he woke up and forgot how to breathe. Kakarot, who never judged him.
    Goku was trying his best to hold it back until Vegeta at least started to let out a dribble, but his body just couldn’t take it anymore. He was at the toilet, he could release… His bladder recognized that it was time to pee, so that was exactly what it did. And it felt GOOD, too. Even better than his relief at the gas station had been. He lost himself in the feeling, sighing with satisfaction before remembering that Vegeta was still having so much troub—
    Beside him, Vegeta finally started to pee. He was obviously trying not to make any noise, but Goku could hear a slow, steady exhale from his nose as he was at last able to let something out. Goku hoped that maybe the sound of him peeing had gotten Vegeta’s body to react; That would make sense, he’d noticed Vegeta get awfully tense around running water before.
    Goku was then given yet another reminder of exactly how large Vegeta’s bladder was— Not that he could ever forget. Once Goku had finished up one of the most badly needed pees of his life, he waited for Vegeta to finish. He turned away completely to give his friend more privacy, and then he had to just… Stand there for several more minutes.
    A few times, Vegeta’s stream would slow and taper off, but then he’d start going full-force again after a moment.
    Goku had been seriously about to burst, he’d needed to go so bad that it had been starting to hurt, so to have Vegeta continue to pee for SO long after Goku had gotten everything out… Goku knew that Vegeta just HAD a bigger bladder than him, that was simply the fact of the matter. But this was still concerning and Goku had half a mind to scold Vegeta for not admitting that he’d been having trouble before they’d gone to sleep.
    Then again, this was such a precarious, fragile thing and Goku knew he couldn’t let Vegeta think he was judging him for ANYTHING.
    Vegeta FINALLY finished and hurriedly fixed his clothing again. “Kakarot…” he breathed out. He sounded winded, utterly exhausted. And it probably had nothing to do with waking up in the middle of the night.
    “C—Can I turn around?” Goku asked, just to make sure.
    “Fine…” Vegeta said.
    When Goku turned, Vegeta was still red in the face, awkwardly shifting as if he still needed to go.
    “Phew…” Goku sighed. “I sure feel better now! Right, Vegeta?”
    “Mmf…” Vegeta turned away. “Listen… Tonight was… Everything about it, I just—“
    “I’m not gonna tell anybody, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    “Good,” Vegeta said. “And, Kakarot?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Wash your damn hands this time.”
  24. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Ms. Tito in My Commission Thread   
    Part of my series "Limits" 
    *** 
    Vegeta laid face-down in bed, grimacing. He would never admit it, but he’d overdone it today. His arms were sore, his neck was sore, his spine felt like it was going to disintegrate. He’d turned the gravity up even higher than usual while he’d been training, and when that had resulted in pain and his body had failed to adjust, he hadn’t been able to make himself lower it again. Lowering it would be admitting defeat and, even if he was the only one around to witness it, it would still be unacceptable.
    So, now every muscle he had hurt. But, at least he hadn’t given up!
    Bulma looked over at him as he winced, “Vegeta, did you nearly crush yourself in the gravity chamber again today?”
    “… No,” Vegeta said.
    “Uh-huh…” Bulma said. She reached over and started to rub his back. She knew the gentle strokes wouldn’t do a whole lot to ease the aches, but it would be better than nothing.
    When Vegeta didn’t pull away and insist that he was fine, Bulma knew he must have REALLY pushed himself, which meant that tomorrow she’d have to come up with some way to convince him to spend the day resting… That was always like trying to pull teeth from a bear.
    “That… Feels good…” Vegeta admitted after a moment.
    “It’s supposed to,” Bulma said. “Wow, you have a ton of knots…”
    “Knots…?”
    “Yeah, it’s this thing that happens to people’s muscles sometimes, like a spasm that makes them tense up a lot.”
    “Feh, maybe humans get those, but a Saiyan’s muscles are—“
    “Usually, they’re caused by repetitive motion, or anxiety, or dehydration…”
    “All things that DON’T apply to me,” Vegeta said. “If you’re feeling anything like a ‘knot’ I’m sure it’s just something Saiyans are SUPPOSED to have.”
    “Vegeta, literally ALL of those things apply to you! You train constantly, you feel a lot of anxiety, you don’t drink enough—“
    “I drink plenty of water now!” Vegeta insisted. “I drink as much as you force me to!”
    That was true, but Bulma still needed to continue gradually INCREASING Vegeta’s fluid intake. By now, he was drinking enough for an average person, but NOT enough for someone who spent ninety percent of their life working out and sweating.
    “And what’s this ‘anxiety’ nonsense again?” Vegeta demanded. “I don’t fear anything.”
    “Anxiety and fear are not the same—“
    “I feel neither of them!”
    Bulma sighed. He was so damned stubborn, and she wasn’t in the mood for an argument tonight, so when Vegeta tried to speak again, Bulma stopped rubbing his back and did something else instead. She wondered if it would do anything to him…
    Vegeta started to squirm as the unfamiliar sensation hit him. That… Felt… So… It was like something was twitching beneath his skin, it was so annoying! And, for some incomprehensible reason, it was actually making him laugh. “Haha— Bulma!” He snapped. “What the Hell are you doing?! Knock it off!”
    Bulma CONTINUED to dance her fingers along his back. “Oh, so you ARE ticklish— Has no one ever done this to you before?”
    He jerked away from her and rolled onto his side, trying NOT to laugh— Why couldn’t he control that? The sensation of Bulma’s touch was intolerably irritating, it shouldn’t have made him laugh! “C—Cut it out!”
    Bulma just smiled at him, “Oh, but your laugh is so cute—“
    “How dare— I am NOT cu—“
    Bulma kept going, moving her hand over his stomach, which felt even WORSE, and caused him to have an even more difficult time keeping his laughter at bay. “Haha— Stop it— Woman— I am going to—“ She’d grabbed his arm, pinning him down, for some reason the motion of her fingers across his abdomen was making it hard to move. “E—Enough!”
    She didn’t stop. She knew he was going to make her pay for this somehow, but she was having too much fun to quit now.
    Vegeta kept wriggling and snapping at her to knock it off. She was right that no one had ever done this to him before, and he would have preferred to have been allowed to KEEP it that way! The feeling itself was infuriating, and he didn’t feel like he was in control of his own body, which only aggravated him further. And she just kept going, the sensations intensifying along with his laughter, and his—
    Whoa—
    He snapped his legs together just in time to prevent a leak from his bladder. What the Hell?! He hadn’t even needed to pee a minute ago! But, he’d nearly started to— Started to— He REALLY needed to go, NOW! “B—Bulma!” He ordered, trying to force his voice to sound more firm in spite of his laughter. “Stop— You have to stop now!”
    She wouldn’t listen, “Oh, look at this, I’ve got the Prince of all Saiyans begging me for mercy!”
    “No— No you don’t—“ Enraged, Vegeta gripped her hand, but she squirmed it free and continued. His bladder spasmed sharply, and he really didn’t feel like he was in control of it at all. He tensed his thighs, shuddering. He felt a hot twinge moving down his length. “I— Haha—Stop now! I— I need— Hahaha— I need you to stop!”
    “Tell me I’ve defeated you,” Bulma teased, trailing her hand over his stomach.
    “N—Never!” Vegeta exclaimed. “That’s— Hahaha— Ridiculous! I’m not going to—“ Warmth trickled out of him as a few droplets managed to escape his quivering bladder. “—Stop. Stop it now. You don’t understa—“
    “Haven’t had enough yet?” Bulma gathered, increasing her efforts, tickling him just beneath his ribs and making him laugh harder than ever. “Oh, here’s the right spot…”
    Vegeta paled as another spurt hissed forth, “STOP, Bulma— I— Hahahaha— I’m going to— I— I need to—“
    Ignoring him, Bulma pressed on, “You know how to make me stop…” she taunted. “Just say that I’ve defeated you, and—“
    “N—No!” He couldn’t say that! There wasn’t ANY other statement that could POSSIBLY be harder for him to say than that one! Not even— Not even… “Bulma, I can’t hold it! Stop now! I’m gonna burst!”
    Bulma slowed down, needing a second to actually process what he’d just said, “You’re…”
    Vegeta shoved his way off the bed, trying not to cross his legs at a surge of pressure. Had he seriously just said that?! It had gotten her to stop, but— How could he have said such a thing?! Reddening intensely, he rushed to the bathroom and hoped the embarrassment wouldn’t make it too hard for him to go.
    The sore, achy exhaustion in all of his muscles seemed to help, because his bladder began emptying fairly quickly. What surprised him was how little had actually been IN there. It shouldn’t have been THAT shocking since he had peed before getting into bed, but with as urgent as it had felt he’d expected more. He hoped that what he’d done to himself in the gravity chamber hadn’t shrunk his bladder…
    He came back out a moment later, shame-faced.
    “I’m sorry,” Bulma said. “I got carried away. I just love the sound of your laugh, and I don’t get to hear it that often.”
    Vegeta laid back down, still blushing.
    “Come on, Vegeta… I promise, I didn’t mean to make you laugh THAT hard!”
    Vegeta sat up slightly, “Laughter… Makes you need—“
    “Yeah,” Bulma said. “You didn’t know that?”
    Vegeta shook his head. He’d never laughed that hard before, his body had never had that type of reaction.
    “Well, it does, that’s normal,” Bulma told him. “I had no idea your ribs were so ticklish! Too bad you normally have armor on over them!”
    “Perhaps I should start wearing my armor to bed…” Vegeta said. “Sounds like I need it for my own protection.”
    “Aw, don’t be like that,” Bulma said. “Hm…”
    “What?”
    “I was thinking about your tail…”
    “Why?”
    “Saiyan tails are REALLY sensitive, aren’t they? I wonder what it would have been like to tickle you THERE.”
    “Well, if my tail ever spontaneously reappears, you’d better not try to find out!”
    Bulma laughed and was about to lay down, when something else occurred to her. “Hey, back when you still had your tail, you’d transform during the full moon just like Goku, right?”
    “Of course I would,” Vegeta said. “Why?”
    “Do you remember if you ever tried to pee while you were transformed?”
    Vegeta jerked away from her, his face instantaneously scorching red. “Of course not! Why the Hell would I do that?!”
    “I thought maybe it would have been easier.”
    “How would it have been easier?!” Vegeta demanded.
    “Well, when Goku did it, he wasn’t himself anymore. He didn’t know what he was doing, and seemed to just act on instinct. More like an animal—“
    “Even more than usual?”
    “Vegeta…” Bulma sighed. “I just figured, if you’re not really aware of yourself, then you would be less likely to get—“
    “I was always in control of myself while transformed,” Vegeta said. “I knew what I was doing. That’s something Saiyans master when they’re young. I guess Kakarot never managed it because there weren’t any other Saiyans around to teach him how.”
    “Yeah, Goku definitely never knew what he was doing. And he wouldn’t remember any of it, either,” Bulma said.
    “Why are you even asking about this? My tail’s not going to grow back,” Vegeta said.
    “I know,” Bulma said. “Trust me, I pay enough attention to that area of your body to know that.”
    “V—Vulgar—“ Vegeta covered his face as he somehow managed to turn even redder.
    “So, you never even TRIED to pee that way?”
    “Of course not! We weren’t even supposed to… You know… in that form. Because it would get… VERY disgusting. I HOPE Kakarot never did it.”
    Bulma cringed. Now that she was picturing it more, it was probably a good thing that Vegeta hadn’t tried to relieve himself in that state. “He didn’t,” Bulma said. “Guess we lucked out there.”
    Vegeta mumbled something quietly. And since he was speaking softly, it of course caught Bulma’s attention. “Hm?”
    “N—Nothing, forget about it.”
    “Vegeta…”
    “Ugh, fine… I said… I said that sometimes transforming DID help, though.”
    “How?”
    “It was easier for me to… Okay, so if I was transformed I’d… Uh… You’ve seen Kakarot change, you already know there’s a huge size increase.”
    “But, how does— Oh,” Bulma said. “So, then your bladder would be…”
    “It would be much larger, yes.”
    His bladder was already enormous. When he’d been transformed, it must have been practically bottomless. She could imagine him being very desperate, insides splitting apart from the pressure, and then when his form changed he wouldn’t even feel it anymore. But, it wasn’t like he stayed that way forever, he’d have to change back eventually. And, then the opposite would happen. He’d suddenly be feeling the full brunt of his desperation all at once, made even worse by all the time that had passed.
    Vegeta was recalling those moments now, when he shrank back down to his normal size and the urge to pee returned to him instantaneously. The worst occasions were those where he’d managed to FORGET that he’d been bursting in the moments before he’d transformed. He’d be surprised by wave after wave of pressure, when seconds ago he hadn’t felt like he’d needed to pee at all.
    Transforming back was a disorienting process to begin with, he needed to quickly readjust to his regular size and shape, his energy would feel out of place for a few seconds, the whole thing was dizzying. Add onto that a sudden, extreme, emergency need for the bathroom and he’d really struggle to maintain his composure. When it was REALLY bad, he’d fold over on himself or be brought to his knees by the heavy swell in his middle, mortified that Nappa or Raditz would notice his severe distress and know what was bothering him.
    His only saving grace was that those two would always handle it far worse than he did. The dizzying effects of changing back were harder on them, leaving them dazed for much longer, and less aware of what Vegeta was doing. If Vegeta released a pained, desperate moan and tangled his legs together, it went unnoticed.
    And, they handled the bladder-thing a lot worse as well. If either of them had been a little desperate before transforming, then when they turned back, there would be issues. Generally, this just meant that they had to go right away wherever they were, while Vegeta turned his back and shuddered as he tried to block out the noise from his brain, scoffing at them and ordering them to hurry it up.
    ‘Hurry, dammit,’ he’d think. ‘I need to get… Somewhere!’ Every so often, Vegeta would contemplate joining them for a second, his bladder would be aching so bad and it wasn’t RIGHT that two low-level fighters should be allowed to relieve themselves while their prince continued to suffer! But, they’d always finish before Vegeta could talk himself into doing it.
    Then at least one of them would make some kind of remark like “Wow, Vegeta, changing back didn’t make you need to go?! Your bladder must be made of titanium!” And, that would be the end of it; Vegeta definitely couldn’t admit that, actually, he WAS about to explode after that kind of comment! He had to live up to those words!
    One time, things had happened a little differently, however. When Vegeta transformed back and the fullness of his bladder slammed into him once more, his eyes widened comically and he almost lost his footing. He had to go so fucking bad! He was overflowing! His middle felt like Frieza had blown a hole straight through it, and his thoughts immediately turned into a garbled mess of desperation. It was bad, it was astonishingly bad. It was so bad that he was squeezing his thighs and pressing his tail against himself— It was less obvious if he used his tail instead of his hands, right?
    It was so bad that he was seriously considering peeing with Nappa and Raditz. Just this ONE time. He’d… He’d pretend it wasn’t an emergency, like he could hold it for ages more if he wanted to! He’d pretend he was only going because… Because he… Wanted to… Uh… Because he wanted to PROVE something, yeah! He’d say ‘A Saiyan should be able to piss WAY farther than that! Look how far I can spray it!’ And—
    Ugh… Why was the thought of showing off, boasting and making a big spectacle only causing his stomach to knot up on itself? That wasn’t what usually happened to him at all! Yet, when he imagined himself announcing that he could shoot his stream farther than his companions, and then releasing his bladder in front of them to prove it… His… His chest felt twitchy, like it was itching, but on the inside. He hoped it would go away, he just had to—
    “Ahhh!” A startled yell, followed by a furious hiss.
    Vegeta turned to see that Raditz and Nappa had changed back. Nappa was stumbling around and gripping himself. And Raditz was frozen still, liquid pouring down one of his legs.
    Vegeta found himself unable to move as well. The strange itch in his chest worsened, and it was starting to move up into his shoulders and down his arms as well. His face felt very, very warm. He was… Embarrassed, even though he wasn’t the one disgracing himself. He opened his mouth a few times, unable to form words. Raditz’s accident created an intensely noisy gush, splashing harshly against the ground beneath his feet. It was the loudest thing Vegeta had ever heard, and it was making his bladder lurch, he tensed his thighs. His tail, still pinned between them, started to ache.
    Off to his side, he was dimly aware of Nappa relieving his bladder, but he remained fixated on Raditz, and how dismayed and horrified his expression was. Vegeta’s bladder was thrashing, and his blood ran icy cold.
    He knew he was supposed to start screaming at Raditz now, demanding to know why he hadn’t held it, shouting at him that he was a weak, useless excuse for a fighter if he wasn’t even strong enough to control his bladder. He was supposed to yell at him that he was a disgrace to the few Saiyans left alive. That sort of thing was what he would have done any OTHER time Raditz screwed something up.
    But, he couldn’t do it now. The words refused to come. The ANGER refused to come, and that was the scariest part of all. All he could feel was humiliation and shame— And a whole lot of confusion because HE wasn’t the one who’d had an accident! HE was still holding it! He COULD hold it, he could hold it forever, he would never wet himself, ever…. Something inside of him was hurting, and not JUST his bladder.
    Raditz finally finished, “Pr—Prince Vegeta, I—“
    “Silence,” Vegeta said. Raditz’s bladder was empty now. Comfortable. Drained. No longer stretching him out. No longer driving him insane with pressure. Vegeta’s was so full he thought he might die, and he felt… He felt so… What the fuck was this feeling? Why was he so twitchy? Why were little bugs crawling beneath his skin? No, not bugs, they were worms. Disgusting, slimy, wriggling little worms, and they were all as cold as could be, and he couldn’t get rid of them because they were inside him, filling up his chest. “Don’t speak to me.”
    Nappa returned, “Vegeta, you’re not too mad are y—“
    “You shut up, too,” Vegeta growled. He wasn’t mad, he was… Something else. He didn’t know what. All he knew was that he HATED it, and he wanted to get away from here, he wanted to be alone, and he really, REALLY wanted to fucking pee!
    They returned to their pods. Once they’d taken off and Vegeta was alone in his seat, he writhed like crazy the whole way back. His bladder was going to burst and the sensations in his chest hadn’t faded at all. When they returned to one of Frieza’s many planets, and Vegeta was able to lock himself into a restroom, he could barely pee. He went, but it came out in a slow, dismal trickle, he had to cup a hand over his lower belly and squeeze to get it to continue dribbling, straining and pushing down so hard on his muscles that he was making himself light-headed.
    It took him close to ten minutes to force everything out, and he couldn’t understand why. He thought he was sick, but refused to get it checked out as he was too ashamed. He was able to urinate normally the next morning anyway, so he told himself it had been a fluke.
    That, he thought, was the first time that strange feeling in his chest had really become noticeable.
    “Vegeta…?” Bulma asked now. “What are you thinking about?”
    “Nothing,” Vegeta said.
    “When you changed back, and your bladder shrank,” Bulma said. “Was that ever—“
    “It was never a problem,” Vegeta said. “I could handle it.”
    “Okay…” Bulma knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but pressed on. He was speaking about his problem with her, however clipped his responses may have been. She had to get him to keep it up. Talking about it would help him, she knew it would. “Here’s something you might find funny,” she said. “When Yamcha came back to life, he wet himself.”
    “I think Yamcha does that any time I look at him,” Vegeta said. “So, I’m not surprised.”
    “When you come back, it’s like waking up from a long sleep, isn’t it? That’s how it felt for me after Buu,” Bulma said. “So, you need to go, right?”
    Vegeta rolled his eyes, “If you are trying to get me to… To ‘disclose’ how my resurrections faired on my… On my bladder, then you can forget about it.”
    “So, something DID happen, then?”
    “Nah—No! That’s not what I said!”
    “You implied it.”
    “Well… Even if I did, I’m not elaborating! The— The second time was horrific and I’m never speaking of it, and the first time— You were THERE for the first time, so you already know!”
    “I don’t know,” Bulma corrected.
    “Well, you were there,” Vegeta said. “I’m sure you can remember if you try. I’m not going to recount it for you.”
    Of course, now Vegeta couldn’t stop remembering it.
    The first time Vegeta was brought back to life, he spent the first hour just trying not to squirm as he leaned against a tree. He also tried his best not to think about how— if he were ANYONE else— the fact that he was beside a tree right now would have been a perfect solution to his current problem.
    His body hadn’t cooperated with him at all during his trip to Namek— It had betrayed him in every conceivable way. He struggled so much to void even when he was alone, and whenever he finally DID manage to let something out, he was never able to finish; It was torture, he’d try over and OVER again to pee, fail repeatedly most times, and then on the rare occasions that his bladder decided to obey him, he’d only be able to get just enough out to take the edge off. He was never able to empty himself completely, and was perpetually desperate.
    Every fight he’d gotten into on Namek, he’d had to manage with a full bladder. Each time he had to use the healing pod, he’d wish there were something in it that would manually force his body to drain out. Even when he got knocked unconscious, he didn’t urinate on himself— And, to his horror, he was DISMAYED each time he came to and realized that he was somehow still holding it. He thought he’d be able to forgive himself for having an accident if it happened under those circumstances.
    Miraculously, he was finally able to go after Kakarot had shown up and taken out the rest of the Ginyus. Vegeta didn’t know WHY that had done it, perhaps knowing that most of the people on the planet were now too dead to watch him piss was all he needed. Whatever the case, when he unzipped and tried for the hundredth time to rid himself of the awful pains tearing apart his insides and setting fire to his back, he was at last able to get out every drop.
    After he’d finished, he’d felt so exhausted that he’d fallen asleep beside the healing pod Kakarot was in. He hadn’t MEANT to rest so close to Kakarot, that was just where he happened to be when he realized his eyelids no longer wanted to stay open.
    But, soon after that was when his body would betray him in an even worse way, by failing to take down Frieza. He threw EVERYTHING he had at Frieza, and it had done absolutely nothing. Then, the most heinous betrayal of all, Vegeta had actually… He’d… Cried. He’d actually cried… And Vegeta DIDN’T cry— EVER. And then he just embarrassed himself even more, he practically BEGGED Kakarot to kill Frieza FOR him— Vegeta DIDN’T beg— but he had…
    And Frieza shot a beam straight through his heart while he was doing it. Vegeta had been killed while BEGGING a low-level fighter to do something that he himself was incapable of. He couldn’t think of a more shameful way to die.
    But, he’d been brought back… Apparently, since he’d defected from Frieza, he was counted in the wish to bring back everyone from Namek that had been killed by Frieza and his army. He should have been happy to be alive again, and he WAS, but it only took a few seconds for him to become reacquainted with one of the most annoying aspects of being alive; He badly needed to relieve himself.
    It wasn’t the same level of urgency he’d been experiencing ON Namek, at least. His back didn’t feel like it was drowning in acid after being set on fire a bunch of times. But, he was concerned about how much time he had left BEFORE that feeling reemerged. He was surprised he even needed to pee so much, he HADN’T needed to go at all when Frieza had— Had shot his heart.
    He ignored everyone else talking, bored by their conversation about where the Namekians were going to live now, and how to bring Kakarot back. Vegeta’s only concern was when and WHERE he would be able to void. Again, the tree would have been perfectly serviceable if he wasn’t so— If this… problem weren’t a factor. But, he doubted the issue had vanished when he’d been brought back to life, and there was a large crowd here to watch as he tried— and most likely failed— to urinate.
    For some reason, the idea of someone watching him STRUGGLE to pee was even more horrifying to him than the idea of someone watching him ACTUALLY go…
    The tree wouldn’t work. He could fly off and look for somewhere else, but Earth was a densely populated planet and he’d seen very, very little of it. He had no idea which direction to head off in, if he’d even be ABLE to find seclusion anywhere close by.
    Come to think of it, where was he going to stay? He didn’t have a way OFF this planet, he was stuck here. In the past, when he stayed on one planet for a longer period of time, it was because Frieza had established a base on it, so he’d have a room somewhere. Otherwise, he slept in his pod or on Frieza’s ship. None of those things were options now…
    Urgh… He’d deal with that later. One problem at a time. It would be easier to figure out where he was gonna sleep after his bladder was finished distracting him.
    The blue-haired Earth woman was offering to let the Namekians stay at her house… There were so many of them, how large were Earthling homes? Had Kakarot been living like a king while Vegeta had been relegated to whatever tiny quarters Frieza granted him? How dare—
    Before he could finish that thought, the woman added that HE could stay at her house too… And then she— She had the AUDACITY to tell him that he was kind of cute! HOW DARE— “WHAT?! I’m not— Shut up!”
    As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had the gall to laugh! He, Vegeta, had just ORDERED her to be silent and she responded by LAUGHING! “Oh, come on, drop the arrogant tough guy act and relax, let it all out!” She said.
    What was she saying THAT for?! Could she tell?! He looked down at himself, noticing the tremors in his legs, but thankfully nothing else. He really, really had to pee, but he didn’t think it LOOKED like he really, really had to pee… Even if she couldn’t tell that he needed to go, speaking so CASUALLY to him was unacceptable! Didn’t she know who he was, what he was capable of?! Why wasn’t she terrified of him?!
    Perhaps she was, and her offer of a place to sleep was an attempt to placate him so that he didn’t DESTROY this dustball of a planet. Yeah. She WAS scared of him, she was just better at hiding it than most people, that had to be it.
    Two hours later, Vegeta was struggling not to double over as the Earth woman— Bulma— gave him a tour of her ridiculously oversized house. He didn’t understand why she was doing this. She’d just sent the Namekians off with her father so he could show them to their rooms. But, for some reason, she wanted to show him EVERYTHING.
    Everything except for the ONLY thing Vegeta actually WANTED to see… He wanted her to hurry up and bring him to the room he’d be staying in, and then leave him alone for a while. But, he realized he was just ASSUMING that the room would contain something he could relieve himself into. That may just be wishful thinking. He might get there and find that he had nowhere to go after all. His room on Frieza’s ship hadn’t had an attached restroom, so he was always forced to wait around until he was certain no one would see him entering a bathroom before he could use it.
    That had been annoying, but at least he knew where all the toilets on Frieza’s ship WERE. He couldn’t say the same for this place— At no point in this long winded tour had Bulma pointed out where ANY of them were. And Vegeta— Well, he couldn’t just ASK. Bulma was already confusing him, she was way too good at acting like she didn’t fear him, he almost actually BELIEVED it. And, needing her to provide him somewhere to sleep made him think she was pitying him. Giving any indication that he desperately had to use the bathroom would make all of that worse.
    It would be even easier for her to pretend that he wasn’t menacing if he admitted that he was dying to pee. And, if he failed to keep his squirming in check, he’d look pathetic, she’d pity him more. He could NOT ask, he could NOT draw her attention to this. So long as she didn’t find out that he had to go, everything would be okay. He’d handle his need unnoticed, and THEN he’d be able to show her that he was meant to be feared, that the last thing he ever needed was anyone’s sympathy, and that he was DEFINITELY not ‘cute’!
    Vegeta was still worried that she could already tell, though. That whole ‘let it all out’ comment was stuck in his mind, and it wouldn’t surprise him if this never-ending tour that was skipping over any restroom facilities was a deliberate act of torture on her part. Vegeta knew HE’D do something similar if he were showing Kakarot around a place and had noticed that he was bursting to go.
    Bulma showed him a ridiculous number of rooms, most of them laboratories of some sort. She was telling him about ‘capsules’, and how apparently people could fit pretty much anything inside of one. Vegeta didn’t really understand any of it, maybe he would have if he’d been able to think more clearly.
    She kept glancing back at him. Especially after his bladder started to throb so viciously that he was forced to slow down his pace. She could tell, she could tell… He was pathetic, and she could tell. She was wondering what was wrong with him, why he was incapable of just asking her where a bathroom was, why he was forcing himself to hold it for no reason.
    Vegeta tried to calm himself down, maybe she couldn’t tell and it was all in his head. And, even if she had figured it out, maybe she just assumed that he didn’t know HOW to ask for what he needed, that since he was an alien he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say…
    “Are you cold?” Bulma asked him finally.
    This place WAS chillier than he was used to, but it wasn’t enough to make him uncomfortable. His bladder was doing a FINE job of that all on its own. But, Vegeta was aware that he was trembling, he was holding all of his muscles as taut as he could so that he didn’t give in to the desire to squirm. “I’m fine… Just exhausted. And your yammering hasn’t helped much.”
    Bulma frowned, then rolled her eyes, “I guess I can’t expect you to have any manners, can I?”
    Vegeta huffed, glancing away. He had every right to be annoyed! This tour had been going on for ages, and even if she DIDN’T notice that he was bursting, it was still her fault! To his dismay, he thought he actually kind of WANTED her to figure it out, being asked if he wanted to pee didn’t seem as difficult to him as bringing it up himself. That realization wasn’t enough to prompt him to start squirming more blatantly, however. He still couldn’t bring himself to do that, even as his body screamed at him to move around.
    “I guess I’ve shown you everything you’d need to know about…” Bulma considered.
    She hadn’t. She’d forgotten something important. Vegeta just couldn’t form the words… And now he’d been standing in one spot for too long, and his bladder was pinching and surging a bit more persistently. He stepped in place. Then, fearing that was too obvious, he started to pace around the hallway instead.
    “Where are you going?” Bulma asked. “Was there something you wanted to see more closely?”
    “N—No, I just—“ ‘I have to relieve myself really badly,’ he thought. ‘That’s all I want to do’. “Like I said, I’m exhausted. Being dead takes a lot out of you, not that someone like you would know anything about that!”
    His lower eyelid twitched when Bulma started to laugh. “Pfft… Hahahaha!”
    “Wh—What’s so damn funny, woman?!” Vegeta demanded. Had she figured it out? Could she tell he was about to burst? Did she think his critical need to release his waters was hilarious for some reason?! How dare she?!
    “You’re bragging about DYING before I have,” Bulma pointed out. “I’ve never heard anyone do that— And, a lot of my friends have died at least once before. You think EVERYTHING you do is some big triumph, don’t you?”
    “That’s not what I meant— I— Dammit, I will NOT be mocked!”
    “Heh, you’re blushing…” Bulma pointed out.
    “I am NOT,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face, just to be sure. She was laughing at him… She was supposed to be cowering in fear. At MOST, she was supposed to be angry at him! Those were the reactions Vegeta was used to, terror or fury. People weren’t supposed to be happy to be around him!
    It was because his bladder was full. That was it. He needed to pee so badly that his usual, threatening aura must have been fading. That was why she wasn’t scared. Once he’d relieved himself, he’d be able to show her what he was REALLY made of again.
    If he ever GOT to pee, anyway…
    “But, alright. You’re tired. You were SO busy being dead,” Bulma said. “Want me to show you your room?”
    “Very well…” Vegeta replied. There had BETTER be somewhere he could urinate in there too. He dreaded having to leave the room and then… Search around for a while because he STILL couldn’t bring himself to just ASK…
    “Okay,” Bulma said. She led him down another hallway. And then another. And another. Vegeta was starting to think the whole tour was completely pointless. This place was like a maze. He figured that, even if he hadn’t been preoccupied this whole time, he’d still be unable to remember where anything actually was.
    As they walked, he occasionally glanced at the doors, searching for any indication that one of them led to a restroom. He wouldn’t be able to rush right inside if he spotted one, of course. But, he’d try to remember the location so he could come back later when he was by himself. Very few of the doors had labels on them though and the few labels he DID see weren’t ones that he could understand.
    Bulma finally opened one of the doors, revealing a bedroom. “Here,” she said. “Get some rest. If you need anything, I’ll be in the atrium.”
 
Vegeta couldn’t recall how to get back there. But, he was clearly incapable of asking her for anything no matter how badly he needed it, so it didn’t matter. He glanced into the room, unable to tell if it held any promise of relief. “This is… Satisfactory,” he said. “Be on your way now.”
    “What do you say?” Bulma prompted him. Clearly, he needed to be taught some manners…
    “The room is fine,” Vegeta said. “Goodnight.”
    Well… That wasn’t what she was looking for, but ‘goodnight’ was still one of the nicest things he’d said to her so far. “Try to get some sleep,” she told him.
    Vegeta strode into the room and shut the door. As soon as he heard it click, he bent forwards and grasped at himself, granting his body some much needed pressure. He bounced on his heels as he tried to get a better handle on his need. All that walking around and waiting, and he hadn’t been able to do ANYTHING to calm down the throbbing. He looked up after a moment, he could see two doors, and hoped ONE of them would lead to what he wanted.
    Before he could straighten himself back out, the bedroom door opened again. Vegeta jumped as light flooded into the room, and he was still standing there, hunched over, holding himself and rubbing his legs together. He hurriedly released his hands and spun around. “Wha— What is it— I wasn’t doing anyth—“
    Bulma stared at him for a second, “Are you okay?” She asked. “Does your chest still hurt? If it does, you can say so— You don’t have to try to hide it.”
    “I—I’m not hurt,” Vegeta snapped. “I’m fine! What do you want?”
    Bulma kept looking at him, at his strained posture and fidgeting legs. Now that he’d LET himself start squirming, he couldn’t help but continue. “Just wanted to let you know that if you get hungry or thirsty during the night, you’re allowed to get something from the kitchen.”
    “Yes, yes, that’s great,” Vegeta rushed out. “N—Now, I— I want to be alone.” Please, just let him be alone! He couldn’t hold still, and if she kept watching him like that, it was only inevitable that she was going to work out why!
    “Okay,” Bulma said. “But, if you ever want to talk to someone—“
    “Later!” Vegeta snapped. It was like she WANTED to be near him— It was insane! People weren’t supposed to like being close to him! If he didn’t start acting like he was SUPPOSED to soon—
    “Alright, see you tomorrow,” And finally she was shutting the door again.
    Vegeta’s hands flew back between his legs for a nice, long squeeze before he was able to start walking again. He managed to reach one of the doors and yanked it open, discovering a small closet, with nothing of use inside of it. Wincing, he shut the door and stumbled across the room to the other one. If this one didn’t have anywhere he could piss, he was going to go crazy. He couldn’t leave this room anymore because he could no longer let go of his crotch. Yeah, if Bulma saw him like THIS she’d immediately tell him where he could find a bathroom, but he couldn’t allow her to see anything this pitiful, EVER.
    He yanked open the door and immediately felt a bit of tension fade. A restroom, finally… The toilet looked pretty close to what he was used to as well, and he was glad humans and Saiyans had similar anatomy. There wasn’t a holder for him to place his tail into if he wanted to sit down, but since his tail didn’t seem to be growing back, he doubted that would ever be a problem.
    He quickly shut the door and moved to lock it, shaking a bit when it struck him how flimsy the lock actually felt in his hand. He was sure it was enough to keep a human from busting down the door, but it was very apparent that, if he wasn’t careful, he could very easily destroy it.
    Vegeta got in front of the toilet and hurriedly lifted the lid and seat up, getting his clothing apart as fast as he could. But, naturally, relief didn’t come easily.
    He’d DIED today, he’d been killed by Frieza after being utterly decimated by him, AND while basically begging Kakarot for help… He’d reached a whole new level of pathetic. He didn’t see any way to come back from that. Clearly, he must have lost what made him a great fighter today, otherwise Bulma would be scared of him. But, she wasn’t. And the only reason she WOULDN’T be frightened would be because she too thought he was pathetic…
    He was definitely pitiful, he couldn’t even piss… ‘Come ON, stupid thing… WORK,’ he thought. ‘Can’t ONE thing do what I want it to today?!’ He pushed a hand onto his lower stomach, inevitably just drawing forth more pain rather than a stream. ‘Frieza killed you so easily, he thought you were a joke. You didn’t even faze him. Nothing you did fazed him.’
    He hated how, when he struggled to piss, he just got locked up in his thoughts like this. He was totally alone with them, and they became far more vicious and cruel than anything he ever said to other people— And that was an impressive feat. ‘You are the prince of all Saiyans,’ he told himself. ‘You can’t let one loss destroy you like this…’ But, it was the worst loss imaginable.
    He had to strain and force himself to start peeing, and when it finally happened it was a slow, dismal stream that was tinted pink. The color alarmed him for a moment, but then the memory of Frieza pounding his fists into his kidneys over and over returned to him. No big mystery as to where the pink had come from. At least it wasn’t bright red…
    He never managed to really burst, only continuing to let out the halting, dribbling spurts. At least he was finally going at all, even if he barely felt relieved by it. It took him so long to get all of it out that his legs went numb. Finally, he was able to put his clothes back together. His abdomen was sore and aching, and so was his back. And his chest where Frieza’s final blast had hit him. And his arms. And… Basically everything.
    Dying really HAD taken a lot out of him…
    He left the restroom and collapsed on the bed. He knew he should probably wash himself, but he was just so tired and wanted this day to finally end. He’d deal with it tomorrow.
    Vegeta jumped again when he heard the door opening. Bulma was back… Again… Now that he wasn’t bursting to piss, he thought he could be a bit more menacing to her, at least. He sat up, glowering. “What do you want this time, woman?!” He snapped. “I am trying to sleep!”
    “I know,” Bulma said. “And, I’m sorry. It’s just, I was thinking and I realized that I forgot something important.”
    Vegeta sighed and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, folding his arms. “And what might that be?”
    “I didn’t show you where any of the bathrooms are,” Bulma said. “I’m sorry, that should have been one of the first things.”
    What was she implying?! Did she think he couldn’t hold it for a reasonable amount of time?!
    “And, I don’t know how similar the showers and toilets are here to what you got used to in space, or if you need me to explain how they work, so if that’s a problem—“
    “I am perfectly capable of figuring such things out!”
    “I’m sure you can! But, you looked so uncomfortable earlier, and I started thinking maybe you just needed to—“
    “Of course not! I’m not a child!”
    “Don’t get all defensive about th—“
    “I’m NOT getting defensive!” Vegeta exclaimed, defensively.
    Bulma sighed. “You’re blushing again,” she deadpanned.
    “Nope,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face again. “Now… Get out. I want to sleep. And you don’t have to explain anything to me.”
    “Alright… Sleep well,” Bulma said. Like she actually cared about whether or not he got a decent night’s rest… Why SHOULD she?
    The next morning, Vegeta woke uncomfortably. Now that he’d rested up, he was a lot more aware of how filthy he was. He needed to wash off… He went to the shower and stared at the dial for a few seconds. It was… Weird. On Frieza’s ship, the showers had had a bunch of buttons, not just one huge dial. One button to turn it on and off, and then a series of them to control the temperature.
    Deciding the dial couldn’t be THAT different, Vegeta turned it slightly, and immediately a spray of ice-cold water hit him. “Gah—!” Cold, cold, cold! He shivered violently as he moved the dial just a tiny bit further. Suddenly, the water was blisteringly hot instead. Dammit!
    He’d figure this out. He did NOT need Bulma to teach him how it worked!
    ***
    “I guess I do kind of remember,” Bulma said now. “When I was giving you that tour, I thought the AC was too high since you wouldn’t stop shaking, then I thought maybe you just had to go, and you—“
    “Ordered you to stop speaking about it,” Vegeta said. “And, I would very much appreciate it if you did that NOW. I’m through discussing this.”
  25. love
    secretomoact got a reaction from Ms. Tito in Limits (Dragon Ball Z Fanfiction)   
    Vegeta laid face-down in bed, grimacing. He would never admit it, but he’d overdone it today. His arms were sore, his neck was sore, his spine felt like it was going to disintegrate. He’d turned the gravity up even higher than usual while he’d been training, and when that had resulted in pain and his body had failed to adjust, he hadn’t been able to make himself lower it again. Lowering it would be admitting defeat and, even if he was the only one around to witness it, it would still be unacceptable.
    So, now every muscle he had hurt. But, at least he hadn’t given up!
    Bulma looked over at him as he winced, “Vegeta, did you nearly crush yourself in the gravity chamber again today?”
    “… No,” Vegeta said.
    “Uh-huh…” Bulma said. She reached over and started to rub his back. She knew the gentle strokes wouldn’t do a whole lot to ease the aches, but it would be better than nothing.
    When Vegeta didn’t pull away and insist that he was fine, Bulma knew he must have REALLY pushed himself, which meant that tomorrow she’d have to come up with some way to convince him to spend the day resting… That was always like trying to pull teeth from a bear.
    “That… Feels good…” Vegeta admitted after a moment.
    “It’s supposed to,” Bulma said. “Wow, you have a ton of knots…”
    “Knots…?”
    “Yeah, it’s this thing that happens to people’s muscles sometimes, like a spasm that makes them tense up a lot.”
    “Feh, maybe humans get those, but a Saiyan’s muscles are—“
    “Usually, they’re caused by repetitive motion, or anxiety, or dehydration…”
    “All things that DON’T apply to me,” Vegeta said. “If you’re feeling anything like a ‘knot’ I’m sure it’s just something Saiyans are SUPPOSED to have.”
    “Vegeta, literally ALL of those things apply to you! You train constantly, you feel a lot of anxiety, you don’t drink enough—“
    “I drink plenty of water now!” Vegeta insisted. “I drink as much as you force me to!”
    That was true, but Bulma still needed to continue gradually INCREASING Vegeta’s fluid intake. By now, he was drinking enough for an average person, but NOT enough for someone who spent ninety percent of their life working out and sweating.
    “And what’s this ‘anxiety’ nonsense again?” Vegeta demanded. “I don’t fear anything.”
    “Anxiety and fear are not the same—“
    “I feel neither of them!”
    Bulma sighed. He was so damned stubborn, and she wasn’t in the mood for an argument tonight, so when Vegeta tried to speak again, Bulma stopped rubbing his back and did something else instead. She wondered if it would do anything to him…
    Vegeta started to squirm as the unfamiliar sensation hit him. That… Felt… So… It was like something was twitching beneath his skin, it was so annoying! And, for some incomprehensible reason, it was actually making him laugh. “Haha— Bulma!” He snapped. “What the Hell are you doing?! Knock it off!”
    Bulma CONTINUED to dance her fingers along his back. “Oh, so you ARE ticklish— Has no one ever done this to you before?”
    He jerked away from her and rolled onto his side, trying NOT to laugh— Why couldn’t he control that? The sensation of Bulma’s touch was intolerably irritating, it shouldn’t have made him laugh! “C—Cut it out!”
    Bulma just smiled at him, “Oh, but your laugh is so cute—“
    “How dare— I am NOT cu—“
    Bulma kept going, moving her hand over his stomach, which felt even WORSE, and caused him to have an even more difficult time keeping his laughter at bay. “Haha— Stop it— Woman— I am going to—“ She’d grabbed his arm, pinning him down, for some reason the motion of her fingers across his abdomen was making it hard to move. “E—Enough!”
    She didn’t stop. She knew he was going to make her pay for this somehow, but she was having too much fun to quit now.
    Vegeta kept wriggling and snapping at her to knock it off. She was right that no one had ever done this to him before, and he would have preferred to have been allowed to KEEP it that way! The feeling itself was infuriating, and he didn’t feel like he was in control of his own body, which only aggravated him further. And she just kept going, the sensations intensifying along with his laughter, and his—
    Whoa—
    He snapped his legs together just in time to prevent a leak from his bladder. What the Hell?! He hadn’t even needed to pee a minute ago! But, he’d nearly started to— Started to— He REALLY needed to go, NOW! “B—Bulma!” He ordered, trying to force his voice to sound more firm in spite of his laughter. “Stop— You have to stop now!”
    She wouldn’t listen, “Oh, look at this, I’ve got the Prince of all Saiyans begging me for mercy!”
    “No— No you don’t—“ Enraged, Vegeta gripped her hand, but she squirmed it free and continued. His bladder spasmed sharply, and he really didn’t feel like he was in control of it at all. He tensed his thighs, shuddering. He felt a hot twinge moving down his length. “I— Haha—Stop now! I— I need— Hahaha— I need you to stop!”
    “Tell me I’ve defeated you,” Bulma teased, trailing her hand over his stomach.
    “N—Never!” Vegeta exclaimed. “That’s— Hahaha— Ridiculous! I’m not going to—“ Warmth trickled out of him as a few droplets managed to escape his quivering bladder. “—Stop. Stop it now. You don’t understa—“
    “Haven’t had enough yet?” Bulma gathered, increasing her efforts, tickling him just beneath his ribs and making him laugh harder than ever. “Oh, here’s the right spot…”
    Vegeta paled as another spurt hissed forth, “STOP, Bulma— I— Hahahaha— I’m going to— I— I need to—“
    Ignoring him, Bulma pressed on, “You know how to make me stop…” she taunted. “Just say that I’ve defeated you, and—“
    “N—No!” He couldn’t say that! There wasn’t ANY other statement that could POSSIBLY be harder for him to say than that one! Not even— Not even… “Bulma, I can’t hold it! Stop now! I’m gonna burst!”
    Bulma slowed down, needing a second to actually process what he’d just said, “You’re…”
    Vegeta shoved his way off the bed, trying not to cross his legs at a surge of pressure. Had he seriously just said that?! It had gotten her to stop, but— How could he have said such a thing?! Reddening intensely, he rushed to the bathroom and hoped the embarrassment wouldn’t make it too hard for him to go.
    The sore, achy exhaustion in all of his muscles seemed to help, because his bladder began emptying fairly quickly. What surprised him was how little had actually been IN there. It shouldn’t have been THAT shocking since he had peed before getting into bed, but with as urgent as it had felt he’d expected more. He hoped that what he’d done to himself in the gravity chamber hadn’t shrunk his bladder…
    He came back out a moment later, shame-faced.
    “I’m sorry,” Bulma said. “I got carried away. I just love the sound of your laugh, and I don’t get to hear it that often.”
    Vegeta laid back down, still blushing.
    “Come on, Vegeta… I promise, I didn’t mean to make you laugh THAT hard!”
    Vegeta sat up slightly, “Laughter… Makes you need—“
    “Yeah,” Bulma said. “You didn’t know that?”
    Vegeta shook his head. He’d never laughed that hard before, his body had never had that type of reaction.
    “Well, it does, that’s normal,” Bulma told him. “I had no idea your ribs were so ticklish! Too bad you normally have armor on over them!”
    “Perhaps I should start wearing my armor to bed…” Vegeta said. “Sounds like I need it for my own protection.”
    “Aw, don’t be like that,” Bulma said. “Hm…”
    “What?”
    “I was thinking about your tail…”
    “Why?”
    “Saiyan tails are REALLY sensitive, aren’t they? I wonder what it would have been like to tickle you THERE.”
    “Well, if my tail ever spontaneously reappears, you’d better not try to find out!”
    Bulma laughed and was about to lay down, when something else occurred to her. “Hey, back when you still had your tail, you’d transform during the full moon just like Goku, right?”
    “Of course I would,” Vegeta said. “Why?”
    “Do you remember if you ever tried to pee while you were transformed?”
    Vegeta jerked away from her, his face instantaneously scorching red. “Of course not! Why the Hell would I do that?!”
    “I thought maybe it would have been easier.”
    “How would it have been easier?!” Vegeta demanded.
    “Well, when Goku did it, he wasn’t himself anymore. He didn’t know what he was doing, and seemed to just act on instinct. More like an animal—“
    “Even more than usual?”
    “Vegeta…” Bulma sighed. “I just figured, if you’re not really aware of yourself, then you would be less likely to get—“
    “I was always in control of myself while transformed,” Vegeta said. “I knew what I was doing. That’s something Saiyans master when they’re young. I guess Kakarot never managed it because there weren’t any other Saiyans around to teach him how.”
    “Yeah, Goku definitely never knew what he was doing. And he wouldn’t remember any of it, either,” Bulma said.
    “Why are you even asking about this? My tail’s not going to grow back,” Vegeta said.
    “I know,” Bulma said. “Trust me, I pay enough attention to that area of your body to know that.”
    “V—Vulgar—“ Vegeta covered his face as he somehow managed to turn even redder.
    “So, you never even TRIED to pee that way?”
    “Of course not! We weren’t even supposed to… You know… in that form. Because it would get… VERY disgusting. I HOPE Kakarot never did it.”
    Bulma cringed. Now that she was picturing it more, it was probably a good thing that Vegeta hadn’t tried to relieve himself in that state. “He didn’t,” Bulma said. “Guess we lucked out there.”
    Vegeta mumbled something quietly. And since he was speaking softly, it of course caught Bulma’s attention. “Hm?”
    “N—Nothing, forget about it.”
    “Vegeta…”
    “Ugh, fine… I said… I said that sometimes transforming DID help, though.”
    “How?”
    “It was easier for me to… Okay, so if I was transformed I’d… Uh… You’ve seen Kakarot change, you already know there’s a huge size increase.”
    “But, how does— Oh,” Bulma said. “So, then your bladder would be…”
    “It would be much larger, yes.”
    His bladder was already enormous. When he’d been transformed, it must have been practically bottomless. She could imagine him being very desperate, insides splitting apart from the pressure, and then when his form changed he wouldn’t even feel it anymore. But, it wasn’t like he stayed that way forever, he’d have to change back eventually. And, then the opposite would happen. He’d suddenly be feeling the full brunt of his desperation all at once, made even worse by all the time that had passed.
    Vegeta was recalling those moments now, when he shrank back down to his normal size and the urge to pee returned to him instantaneously. The worst occasions were those where he’d managed to FORGET that he’d been bursting in the moments before he’d transformed. He’d be surprised by wave after wave of pressure, when seconds ago he hadn’t felt like he’d needed to pee at all.
    Transforming back was a disorienting process to begin with, he needed to quickly readjust to his regular size and shape, his energy would feel out of place for a few seconds, the whole thing was dizzying. Add onto that a sudden, extreme, emergency need for the bathroom and he’d really struggle to maintain his composure. When it was REALLY bad, he’d fold over on himself or be brought to his knees by the heavy swell in his middle, mortified that Nappa or Raditz would notice his severe distress and know what was bothering him.
    His only saving grace was that those two would always handle it far worse than he did. The dizzying effects of changing back were harder on them, leaving them dazed for much longer, and less aware of what Vegeta was doing. If Vegeta released a pained, desperate moan and tangled his legs together, it went unnoticed.
    And, they handled the bladder-thing a lot worse as well. If either of them had been a little desperate before transforming, then when they turned back, there would be issues. Generally, this just meant that they had to go right away wherever they were, while Vegeta turned his back and shuddered as he tried to block out the noise from his brain, scoffing at them and ordering them to hurry it up.
    ‘Hurry, dammit,’ he’d think. ‘I need to get… Somewhere!’ Every so often, Vegeta would contemplate joining them for a second, his bladder would be aching so bad and it wasn’t RIGHT that two low-level fighters should be allowed to relieve themselves while their prince continued to suffer! But, they’d always finish before Vegeta could talk himself into doing it.
    Then at least one of them would make some kind of remark like “Wow, Vegeta, changing back didn’t make you need to go?! Your bladder must be made of titanium!” And, that would be the end of it; Vegeta definitely couldn’t admit that, actually, he WAS about to explode after that kind of comment! He had to live up to those words!
    One time, things had happened a little differently, however. When Vegeta transformed back and the fullness of his bladder slammed into him once more, his eyes widened comically and he almost lost his footing. He had to go so fucking bad! He was overflowing! His middle felt like Frieza had blown a hole straight through it, and his thoughts immediately turned into a garbled mess of desperation. It was bad, it was astonishingly bad. It was so bad that he was squeezing his thighs and pressing his tail against himself— It was less obvious if he used his tail instead of his hands, right?
    It was so bad that he was seriously considering peeing with Nappa and Raditz. Just this ONE time. He’d… He’d pretend it wasn’t an emergency, like he could hold it for ages more if he wanted to! He’d pretend he was only going because… Because he… Wanted to… Uh… Because he wanted to PROVE something, yeah! He’d say ‘A Saiyan should be able to piss WAY farther than that! Look how far I can spray it!’ And—
    Ugh… Why was the thought of showing off, boasting and making a big spectacle only causing his stomach to knot up on itself? That wasn’t what usually happened to him at all! Yet, when he imagined himself announcing that he could shoot his stream farther than his companions, and then releasing his bladder in front of them to prove it… His… His chest felt twitchy, like it was itching, but on the inside. He hoped it would go away, he just had to—
    “Ahhh!” A startled yell, followed by a furious hiss.
    Vegeta turned to see that Raditz and Nappa had changed back. Nappa was stumbling around and gripping himself. And Raditz was frozen still, liquid pouring down one of his legs.
    Vegeta found himself unable to move as well. The strange itch in his chest worsened, and it was starting to move up into his shoulders and down his arms as well. His face felt very, very warm. He was… Embarrassed, even though he wasn’t the one disgracing himself. He opened his mouth a few times, unable to form words. Raditz’s accident created an intensely noisy gush, splashing harshly against the ground beneath his feet. It was the loudest thing Vegeta had ever heard, and it was making his bladder lurch, he tensed his thighs. His tail, still pinned between them, started to ache.
    Off to his side, he was dimly aware of Nappa relieving his bladder, but he remained fixated on Raditz, and how dismayed and horrified his expression was. Vegeta’s bladder was thrashing, and his blood ran icy cold.
    He knew he was supposed to start screaming at Raditz now, demanding to know why he hadn’t held it, shouting at him that he was a weak, useless excuse for a fighter if he wasn’t even strong enough to control his bladder. He was supposed to yell at him that he was a disgrace to the few Saiyans left alive. That sort of thing was what he would have done any OTHER time Raditz screwed something up.
    But, he couldn’t do it now. The words refused to come. The ANGER refused to come, and that was the scariest part of all. All he could feel was humiliation and shame— And a whole lot of confusion because HE wasn’t the one who’d had an accident! HE was still holding it! He COULD hold it, he could hold it forever, he would never wet himself, ever…. Something inside of him was hurting, and not JUST his bladder.
    Raditz finally finished, “Pr—Prince Vegeta, I—“
    “Silence,” Vegeta said. Raditz’s bladder was empty now. Comfortable. Drained. No longer stretching him out. No longer driving him insane with pressure. Vegeta’s was so full he thought he might die, and he felt… He felt so… What the fuck was this feeling? Why was he so twitchy? Why were little bugs crawling beneath his skin? No, not bugs, they were worms. Disgusting, slimy, wriggling little worms, and they were all as cold as could be, and he couldn’t get rid of them because they were inside him, filling up his chest. “Don’t speak to me.”
    Nappa returned, “Vegeta, you’re not too mad are y—“
    “You shut up, too,” Vegeta growled. He wasn’t mad, he was… Something else. He didn’t know what. All he knew was that he HATED it, and he wanted to get away from here, he wanted to be alone, and he really, REALLY wanted to fucking pee!
    They returned to their pods. Once they’d taken off and Vegeta was alone in his seat, he writhed like crazy the whole way back. His bladder was going to burst and the sensations in his chest hadn’t faded at all. When they returned to one of Frieza’s many planets, and Vegeta was able to lock himself into a restroom, he could barely pee. He went, but it came out in a slow, dismal trickle, he had to cup a hand over his lower belly and squeeze to get it to continue dribbling, straining and pushing down so hard on his muscles that he was making himself light-headed.
    It took him close to ten minutes to force everything out, and he couldn’t understand why. He thought he was sick, but refused to get it checked out as he was too ashamed. He was able to urinate normally the next morning anyway, so he told himself it had been a fluke.
    That, he thought, was the first time that strange feeling in his chest had really become noticeable.
    “Vegeta…?” Bulma asked now. “What are you thinking about?”
    “Nothing,” Vegeta said.
    “When you changed back, and your bladder shrank,” Bulma said. “Was that ever—“
    “It was never a problem,” Vegeta said. “I could handle it.”
    “Okay…” Bulma knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but pressed on. He was speaking about his problem with her, however clipped his responses may have been. She had to get him to keep it up. Talking about it would help him, she knew it would. “Here’s something you might find funny,” she said. “When Yamcha came back to life, he wet himself.”
    “I think Yamcha does that any time I look at him,” Vegeta said. “So, I’m not surprised.”
    “When you come back, it’s like waking up from a long sleep, isn’t it? That’s how it felt for me after Buu,” Bulma said. “So, you need to go, right?”
    Vegeta rolled his eyes, “If you are trying to get me to… To ‘disclose’ how my resurrections faired on my… On my bladder, then you can forget about it.”
    “So, something DID happen, then?”
    “Nah—No! That’s not what I said!”
    “You implied it.”
    “Well… Even if I did, I’m not elaborating! The— The second time was horrific and I’m never speaking of it, and the first time— You were THERE for the first time, so you already know!”
    “I don’t know,” Bulma corrected.
    “Well, you were there,” Vegeta said. “I’m sure you can remember if you try. I’m not going to recount it for you.”
    Of course, now Vegeta couldn’t stop remembering it.
    The first time Vegeta was brought back to life, he spent the first hour just trying not to squirm as he leaned against a tree. He also tried his best not to think about how— if he were ANYONE else— the fact that he was beside a tree right now would have been a perfect solution to his current problem.
    His body hadn’t cooperated with him at all during his trip to Namek— It had betrayed him in every conceivable way. He struggled so much to void even when he was alone, and whenever he finally DID manage to let something out, he was never able to finish; It was torture, he’d try over and OVER again to pee, fail repeatedly most times, and then on the rare occasions that his bladder decided to obey him, he’d only be able to get just enough out to take the edge off. He was never able to empty himself completely, and was perpetually desperate.
    Every fight he’d gotten into on Namek, he’d had to manage with a full bladder. Each time he had to use the healing pod, he’d wish there were something in it that would manually force his body to drain out. Even when he got knocked unconscious, he didn’t urinate on himself— And, to his horror, he was DISMAYED each time he came to and realized that he was somehow still holding it. He thought he’d be able to forgive himself for having an accident if it happened under those circumstances.
    Miraculously, he was finally able to go after Kakarot had shown up and taken out the rest of the Ginyus. Vegeta didn’t know WHY that had done it, perhaps knowing that most of the people on the planet were now too dead to watch him piss was all he needed. Whatever the case, when he unzipped and tried for the hundredth time to rid himself of the awful pains tearing apart his insides and setting fire to his back, he was at last able to get out every drop.
    After he’d finished, he’d felt so exhausted that he’d fallen asleep beside the healing pod Kakarot was in. He hadn’t MEANT to rest so close to Kakarot, that was just where he happened to be when he realized his eyelids no longer wanted to stay open.
    But, soon after that was when his body would betray him in an even worse way, by failing to take down Frieza. He threw EVERYTHING he had at Frieza, and it had done absolutely nothing. Then, the most heinous betrayal of all, Vegeta had actually… He’d… Cried. He’d actually cried… And Vegeta DIDN’T cry— EVER. And then he just embarrassed himself even more, he practically BEGGED Kakarot to kill Frieza FOR him— Vegeta DIDN’T beg— but he had…
    And Frieza shot a beam straight through his heart while he was doing it. Vegeta had been killed while BEGGING a low-level fighter to do something that he himself was incapable of. He couldn’t think of a more shameful way to die.
    But, he’d been brought back… Apparently, since he’d defected from Frieza, he was counted in the wish to bring back everyone from Namek that had been killed by Frieza and his army. He should have been happy to be alive again, and he WAS, but it only took a few seconds for him to become reacquainted with one of the most annoying aspects of being alive; He badly needed to relieve himself.
    It wasn’t the same level of urgency he’d been experiencing ON Namek, at least. His back didn’t feel like it was drowning in acid after being set on fire a bunch of times. But, he was concerned about how much time he had left BEFORE that feeling reemerged. He was surprised he even needed to pee so much, he HADN’T needed to go at all when Frieza had— Had shot his heart.
    He ignored everyone else talking, bored by their conversation about where the Namekians were going to live now, and how to bring Kakarot back. Vegeta’s only concern was when and WHERE he would be able to void. Again, the tree would have been perfectly serviceable if he wasn’t so— If this… problem weren’t a factor. But, he doubted the issue had vanished when he’d been brought back to life, and there was a large crowd here to watch as he tried— and most likely failed— to urinate.
    For some reason, the idea of someone watching him STRUGGLE to pee was even more horrifying to him than the idea of someone watching him ACTUALLY go…
    The tree wouldn’t work. He could fly off and look for somewhere else, but Earth was a densely populated planet and he’d seen very, very little of it. He had no idea which direction to head off in, if he’d even be ABLE to find seclusion anywhere close by.
    Come to think of it, where was he going to stay? He didn’t have a way OFF this planet, he was stuck here. In the past, when he stayed on one planet for a longer period of time, it was because Frieza had established a base on it, so he’d have a room somewhere. Otherwise, he slept in his pod or on Frieza’s ship. None of those things were options now…
    Urgh… He’d deal with that later. One problem at a time. It would be easier to figure out where he was gonna sleep after his bladder was finished distracting him.
    The blue-haired Earth woman was offering to let the Namekians stay at her house… There were so many of them, how large were Earthling homes? Had Kakarot been living like a king while Vegeta had been relegated to whatever tiny quarters Frieza granted him? How dare—
    Before he could finish that thought, the woman added that HE could stay at her house too… And then she— She had the AUDACITY to tell him that he was kind of cute! HOW DARE— “WHAT?! I’m not— Shut up!”
    As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had the gall to laugh! He, Vegeta, had just ORDERED her to be silent and she responded by LAUGHING! “Oh, come on, drop the arrogant tough guy act and relax, let it all out!” She said.
    What was she saying THAT for?! Could she tell?! He looked down at himself, noticing the tremors in his legs, but thankfully nothing else. He really, really had to pee, but he didn’t think it LOOKED like he really, really had to pee… Even if she couldn’t tell that he needed to go, speaking so CASUALLY to him was unacceptable! Didn’t she know who he was, what he was capable of?! Why wasn’t she terrified of him?!
    Perhaps she was, and her offer of a place to sleep was an attempt to placate him so that he didn’t DESTROY this dustball of a planet. Yeah. She WAS scared of him, she was just better at hiding it than most people, that had to be it.
    Two hours later, Vegeta was struggling not to double over as the Earth woman— Bulma— gave him a tour of her ridiculously oversized house. He didn’t understand why she was doing this. She’d just sent the Namekians off with her father so he could show them to their rooms. But, for some reason, she wanted to show him EVERYTHING.
    Everything except for the ONLY thing Vegeta actually WANTED to see… He wanted her to hurry up and bring him to the room he’d be staying in, and then leave him alone for a while. But, he realized he was just ASSUMING that the room would contain something he could relieve himself into. That may just be wishful thinking. He might get there and find that he had nowhere to go after all. His room on Frieza’s ship hadn’t had an attached restroom, so he was always forced to wait around until he was certain no one would see him entering a bathroom before he could use it.
    That had been annoying, but at least he knew where all the toilets on Frieza’s ship WERE. He couldn’t say the same for this place— At no point in this long winded tour had Bulma pointed out where ANY of them were. And Vegeta— Well, he couldn’t just ASK. Bulma was already confusing him, she was way too good at acting like she didn’t fear him, he almost actually BELIEVED it. And, needing her to provide him somewhere to sleep made him think she was pitying him. Giving any indication that he desperately had to use the bathroom would make all of that worse.
    It would be even easier for her to pretend that he wasn’t menacing if he admitted that he was dying to pee. And, if he failed to keep his squirming in check, he’d look pathetic, she’d pity him more. He could NOT ask, he could NOT draw her attention to this. So long as she didn’t find out that he had to go, everything would be okay. He’d handle his need unnoticed, and THEN he’d be able to show her that he was meant to be feared, that the last thing he ever needed was anyone’s sympathy, and that he was DEFINITELY not ‘cute’!
    Vegeta was still worried that she could already tell, though. That whole ‘let it all out’ comment was stuck in his mind, and it wouldn’t surprise him if this never-ending tour that was skipping over any restroom facilities was a deliberate act of torture on her part. Vegeta knew HE’D do something similar if he were showing Kakarot around a place and had noticed that he was bursting to go.
    Bulma showed him a ridiculous number of rooms, most of them laboratories of some sort. She was telling him about ‘capsules’, and how apparently people could fit pretty much anything inside of one. Vegeta didn’t really understand any of it, maybe he would have if he’d been able to think more clearly.
    She kept glancing back at him. Especially after his bladder started to throb so viciously that he was forced to slow down his pace. She could tell, she could tell… He was pathetic, and she could tell. She was wondering what was wrong with him, why he was incapable of just asking her where a bathroom was, why he was forcing himself to hold it for no reason.
    Vegeta tried to calm himself down, maybe she couldn’t tell and it was all in his head. And, even if she had figured it out, maybe she just assumed that he didn’t know HOW to ask for what he needed, that since he was an alien he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say…
    “Are you cold?” Bulma asked him finally.
    This place WAS chillier than he was used to, but it wasn’t enough to make him uncomfortable. His bladder was doing a FINE job of that all on its own. But, Vegeta was aware that he was trembling, he was holding all of his muscles as taut as he could so that he didn’t give in to the desire to squirm. “I’m fine… Just exhausted. And your yammering hasn’t helped much.”
    Bulma frowned, then rolled her eyes, “I guess I can’t expect you to have any manners, can I?”
    Vegeta huffed, glancing away. He had every right to be annoyed! This tour had been going on for ages, and even if she DIDN’T notice that he was bursting, it was still her fault! To his dismay, he thought he actually kind of WANTED her to figure it out, being asked if he wanted to pee didn’t seem as difficult to him as bringing it up himself. That realization wasn’t enough to prompt him to start squirming more blatantly, however. He still couldn’t bring himself to do that, even as his body screamed at him to move around.
    “I guess I’ve shown you everything you’d need to know about…” Bulma considered.
    She hadn’t. She’d forgotten something important. Vegeta just couldn’t form the words… And now he’d been standing in one spot for too long, and his bladder was pinching and surging a bit more persistently. He stepped in place. Then, fearing that was too obvious, he started to pace around the hallway instead.
    “Where are you going?” Bulma asked. “Was there something you wanted to see more closely?”
    “N—No, I just—“ ‘I have to relieve myself really badly,’ he thought. ‘That’s all I want to do’. “Like I said, I’m exhausted. Being dead takes a lot out of you, not that someone like you would know anything about that!”
    His lower eyelid twitched when Bulma started to laugh. “Pfft… Hahahaha!”
    “Wh—What’s so damn funny, woman?!” Vegeta demanded. Had she figured it out? Could she tell he was about to burst? Did she think his critical need to release his waters was hilarious for some reason?! How dare she?!
    “You’re bragging about DYING before I have,” Bulma pointed out. “I’ve never heard anyone do that— And, a lot of my friends have died at least once before. You think EVERYTHING you do is some big triumph, don’t you?”
    “That’s not what I meant— I— Dammit, I will NOT be mocked!”
    “Heh, you’re blushing…” Bulma pointed out.
    “I am NOT,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face, just to be sure. She was laughing at him… She was supposed to be cowering in fear. At MOST, she was supposed to be angry at him! Those were the reactions Vegeta was used to, terror or fury. People weren’t supposed to be happy to be around him!
    It was because his bladder was full. That was it. He needed to pee so badly that his usual, threatening aura must have been fading. That was why she wasn’t scared. Once he’d relieved himself, he’d be able to show her what he was REALLY made of again.
    If he ever GOT to pee, anyway…
    “But, alright. You’re tired. You were SO busy being dead,” Bulma said. “Want me to show you your room?”
    “Very well…” Vegeta replied. There had BETTER be somewhere he could urinate in there too. He dreaded having to leave the room and then… Search around for a while because he STILL couldn’t bring himself to just ASK…
    “Okay,” Bulma said. She led him down another hallway. And then another. And another. Vegeta was starting to think the whole tour was completely pointless. This place was like a maze. He figured that, even if he hadn’t been preoccupied this whole time, he’d still be unable to remember where anything actually was.
    As they walked, he occasionally glanced at the doors, searching for any indication that one of them led to a restroom. He wouldn’t be able to rush right inside if he spotted one, of course. But, he’d try to remember the location so he could come back later when he was by himself. Very few of the doors had labels on them though and the few labels he DID see weren’t ones that he could understand.
    Bulma finally opened one of the doors, revealing a bedroom. “Here,” she said. “Get some rest. If you need anything, I’ll be in the atrium.”
 
Vegeta couldn’t recall how to get back there. But, he was clearly incapable of asking her for anything no matter how badly he needed it, so it didn’t matter. He glanced into the room, unable to tell if it held any promise of relief. “This is… Satisfactory,” he said. “Be on your way now.”
    “What do you say?” Bulma prompted him. Clearly, he needed to be taught some manners…
    “The room is fine,” Vegeta said. “Goodnight.”
    Well… That wasn’t what she was looking for, but ‘goodnight’ was still one of the nicest things he’d said to her so far. “Try to get some sleep,” she told him.
    Vegeta strode into the room and shut the door. As soon as he heard it click, he bent forwards and grasped at himself, granting his body some much needed pressure. He bounced on his heels as he tried to get a better handle on his need. All that walking around and waiting, and he hadn’t been able to do ANYTHING to calm down the throbbing. He looked up after a moment, he could see two doors, and hoped ONE of them would lead to what he wanted.
    Before he could straighten himself back out, the bedroom door opened again. Vegeta jumped as light flooded into the room, and he was still standing there, hunched over, holding himself and rubbing his legs together. He hurriedly released his hands and spun around. “Wha— What is it— I wasn’t doing anyth—“
    Bulma stared at him for a second, “Are you okay?” She asked. “Does your chest still hurt? If it does, you can say so— You don’t have to try to hide it.”
    “I—I’m not hurt,” Vegeta snapped. “I’m fine! What do you want?”
    Bulma kept looking at him, at his strained posture and fidgeting legs. Now that he’d LET himself start squirming, he couldn’t help but continue. “Just wanted to let you know that if you get hungry or thirsty during the night, you’re allowed to get something from the kitchen.”
    “Yes, yes, that’s great,” Vegeta rushed out. “N—Now, I— I want to be alone.” Please, just let him be alone! He couldn’t hold still, and if she kept watching him like that, it was only inevitable that she was going to work out why!
    “Okay,” Bulma said. “But, if you ever want to talk to someone—“
    “Later!” Vegeta snapped. It was like she WANTED to be near him— It was insane! People weren’t supposed to like being close to him! If he didn’t start acting like he was SUPPOSED to soon—
    “Alright, see you tomorrow,” And finally she was shutting the door again.
    Vegeta’s hands flew back between his legs for a nice, long squeeze before he was able to start walking again. He managed to reach one of the doors and yanked it open, discovering a small closet, with nothing of use inside of it. Wincing, he shut the door and stumbled across the room to the other one. If this one didn’t have anywhere he could piss, he was going to go crazy. He couldn’t leave this room anymore because he could no longer let go of his crotch. Yeah, if Bulma saw him like THIS she’d immediately tell him where he could find a bathroom, but he couldn’t allow her to see anything this pitiful, EVER.
    He yanked open the door and immediately felt a bit of tension fade. A restroom, finally… The toilet looked pretty close to what he was used to as well, and he was glad humans and Saiyans had similar anatomy. There wasn’t a holder for him to place his tail into if he wanted to sit down, but since his tail didn’t seem to be growing back, he doubted that would ever be a problem.
    He quickly shut the door and moved to lock it, shaking a bit when it struck him how flimsy the lock actually felt in his hand. He was sure it was enough to keep a human from busting down the door, but it was very apparent that, if he wasn’t careful, he could very easily destroy it.
    Vegeta got in front of the toilet and hurriedly lifted the lid and seat up, getting his clothing apart as fast as he could. But, naturally, relief didn’t come easily.
    He’d DIED today, he’d been killed by Frieza after being utterly decimated by him, AND while basically begging Kakarot for help… He’d reached a whole new level of pathetic. He didn’t see any way to come back from that. Clearly, he must have lost what made him a great fighter today, otherwise Bulma would be scared of him. But, she wasn’t. And the only reason she WOULDN’T be frightened would be because she too thought he was pathetic…
    He was definitely pitiful, he couldn’t even piss… ‘Come ON, stupid thing… WORK,’ he thought. ‘Can’t ONE thing do what I want it to today?!’ He pushed a hand onto his lower stomach, inevitably just drawing forth more pain rather than a stream. ‘Frieza killed you so easily, he thought you were a joke. You didn’t even faze him. Nothing you did fazed him.’
    He hated how, when he struggled to piss, he just got locked up in his thoughts like this. He was totally alone with them, and they became far more vicious and cruel than anything he ever said to other people— And that was an impressive feat. ‘You are the prince of all Saiyans,’ he told himself. ‘You can’t let one loss destroy you like this…’ But, it was the worst loss imaginable.
    He had to strain and force himself to start peeing, and when it finally happened it was a slow, dismal stream that was tinted pink. The color alarmed him for a moment, but then the memory of Frieza pounding his fists into his kidneys over and over returned to him. No big mystery as to where the pink had come from. At least it wasn’t bright red…
    He never managed to really burst, only continuing to let out the halting, dribbling spurts. At least he was finally going at all, even if he barely felt relieved by it. It took him so long to get all of it out that his legs went numb. Finally, he was able to put his clothes back together. His abdomen was sore and aching, and so was his back. And his chest where Frieza’s final blast had hit him. And his arms. And… Basically everything.
    Dying really HAD taken a lot out of him…
    He left the restroom and collapsed on the bed. He knew he should probably wash himself, but he was just so tired and wanted this day to finally end. He’d deal with it tomorrow.
    Vegeta jumped again when he heard the door opening. Bulma was back… Again… Now that he wasn’t bursting to piss, he thought he could be a bit more menacing to her, at least. He sat up, glowering. “What do you want this time, woman?!” He snapped. “I am trying to sleep!”
    “I know,” Bulma said. “And, I’m sorry. It’s just, I was thinking and I realized that I forgot something important.”
    Vegeta sighed and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, folding his arms. “And what might that be?”
    “I didn’t show you where any of the bathrooms are,” Bulma said. “I’m sorry, that should have been one of the first things.”
    What was she implying?! Did she think he couldn’t hold it for a reasonable amount of time?!
    “And, I don’t know how similar the showers and toilets are here to what you got used to in space, or if you need me to explain how they work, so if that’s a problem—“
    “I am perfectly capable of figuring such things out!”
    “I’m sure you can! But, you looked so uncomfortable earlier, and I started thinking maybe you just needed to—“
    “Of course not! I’m not a child!”
    “Don’t get all defensive about th—“
    “I’m NOT getting defensive!” Vegeta exclaimed, defensively.
    Bulma sighed. “You’re blushing again,” she deadpanned.
    “Nope,” Vegeta insisted, covering his face again. “Now… Get out. I want to sleep. And you don’t have to explain anything to me.”
    “Alright… Sleep well,” Bulma said. Like she actually cared about whether or not he got a decent night’s rest… Why SHOULD she?
    The next morning, Vegeta woke uncomfortably. Now that he’d rested up, he was a lot more aware of how filthy he was. He needed to wash off… He went to the shower and stared at the dial for a few seconds. It was… Weird. On Frieza’s ship, the showers had had a bunch of buttons, not just one huge dial. One button to turn it on and off, and then a series of them to control the temperature.
    Deciding the dial couldn’t be THAT different, Vegeta turned it slightly, and immediately a spray of ice-cold water hit him. “Gah—!” Cold, cold, cold! He shivered violently as he moved the dial just a tiny bit further. Suddenly, the water was blisteringly hot instead. Dammit!
    He’d figure this out. He did NOT need Bulma to teach him how it worked!
    ***
    “I guess I do kind of remember,” Bulma said now. “When I was giving you that tour, I thought the AC was too high since you wouldn’t stop shaking, then I thought maybe you just had to go, and you—“
    “Ordered you to stop speaking about it,” Vegeta said. “And, I would very much appreciate it if you did that NOW. I’m through discussing this.”
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