Nineteen

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About Nineteen

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    Uh... I like gaming and books and writing. I guess.

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  1. Nineteen

    Cabin Individual

    Thank you very much! I'm glad you liked it!
  2. Nineteen

    Cabin Individual

    "Oh my god! Nineteen isn't dead!" That's right! I am not deceased... I just lost my motivation to write for a pretty long while. I apologize if this story isn't as good as the other ones as I am shaking off the rust, but if you like it, I'd love it if you left a comment telling me so! Do you like my title? I named it like that because of the movie Cabin Boy that I heard of from Game Grumps and because this story is centered around a cabin, but I said "Individual" instead of "Boy" or "Girl" because, as usual, I've left the gender unclear so you can picture me however you like. So, now, without further ado, here is my story! ... I had been on break for a while before I went out to help my aging grandparents with upkeep at their cabin. They lived in a normal house, naturally, but the cabin functioned as their summer (and occasionally winter) home. It was rustic to the point of being slightly disgusting in some ways. For example, the shower was nothing but a bathtub with a shower-curtain draped around it that stuck to my chest and back side every time I climbed in and gave the sensation of being groped inappropriately. I avoided showering when I could. I had asked my grandparents if they needed my help when I went to visit them upon arriving home. I hadn’t managed to land a job for the summer, so I decided that helping them was the least I could do. They said they could use a spritely young body on board to help out with roof repairs and moving heavy things, then gave me an address to head for and a date that they would be departing. I left with every intention of going, so the night before they said they were leaving, I set my alarm for 8 A.M., fully expecting them to be early risers like I imagined many older people were. To my surprise and distress, I managed to sleep through my alarm completely and woke up nearly an hour late. I showered quickly, threw on clothes and rushed to my car. Their house was near my family’s, so I drove by before heading for the cabin to see if they were still there. They weren’t, and I cursed under my breath as I drove past their house and out of town. The cabin was a three hour drive, and I hoped that I would have time to catch up to them if I took minimal breaks and drove quickly. Now, the savvy reader may see where this is going- some stressed out college student pushes themself too hard and ends up having an accident for no reason- but what if I surprised you by telling you that my grandparents are actually very punctual and very judgemental of people who aren’t? Now what, smart guy/girl? Yes, my grandparents have always been strict about arriving in a timely manner, so I certainly didn’t push myself for no reason. I assumed they would be angry at me if I showed up after they did, so I was in a hurry to get there as soon as possible. The first hour of the drive was relatively uneventful. I drove five miles over the speed limit (I would’ve gone faster except I really don’t like to speed) and stopped to grab a green tea because I was feeling drowsy (I also don’t like coffee). I shifted in my seat on occasion, but for the most part, I was able to ignore my bladder and enjoy the music on the radio. It was only during the second hour that I really began to feel my bladder. As the first hour ended and the clock shifted from 10 to 11, I began to squirm a little. I had put on skinny jeans that morning instead of my favorite summertime, just-barely-too-short-to-be-decent shorts because, although it was quite warm out, I knew the cabin would be buggy and the less of my skin the pests could reach, the better. Now, though, I grimaced as the button of those skinny jeans pushed into my bladder. Maybe wearing them for the trip hadn’t been such a good idea. Even so, I was still confident I could make it to the cabin without incident… until the green tea hit me. At around 11:30 I finished off the bottle, and quite soon after, I began to feel the urine building far more quickly in my bladder. As the first wave of desperation hit, I squeezed my knees together more tightly, tightening my muscles against my growing desperation, but that was all I dared to do. I was on the highway by that point and I was all too aware of the kind of mistakes I could and would have if I didn’t give my full attention to the road. They had, after all, happened before. By the third hour, I dared to move around quite a bit. I could feel my bladder fighting against me, but there was nothing I could do about it. Near 12:15, I had my first leak. I still couldn’t take my eyes off the road or cross my legs, but I used one of my hands to grab my crotch and hold on for dear life. I tightened my jaw, locked my thighs around my hand and tried with everything I had to hold it back, but all of that still didn’t stop a few drops of pee from dampening my underwear. After I had regained control, I gingerly used the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel to unbutton my jeans. The relief only lasted a moment before the pressure set back in, but I was able to relax my legs as, without the added pressure of the button, I could hold back my urine with my kegel muscles alone. It only took another few minutes for the pressure to reach critical levels again. The GPS on my phone said I still had twenty minutes to go, as I had driven fast enough to shave off a few minutes of the three hour drive. With a toilet so close, I knew I couldn’t give up now. I hoped I was ahead of my grandparents so I could use the bathroom without them hearing the enormous amounts of pee coming out of me, but if I didn’t beat them there, the whole struggle would have been in vain, so it was really all or nothing. With renewed confidence in my ability to make it to the cabin with jeans unpeed, I returned my focus to the road… only to have another huge wave of desperation breach my bladder’s walls and wet my underwear again. It took me completely by surprise and, without a second to prepare, all I could do was stop it as quickly as possible. It took me nearly a second to reign it in, and, without looking, I already knew it had left a wet spot on my jeans. I cursed and, in a moment of despair, let tears blur my vision. I’m going to wet myself, I thought sadly. Then, looking at my phone again and seeing that I still only had a few minutes left, I steeled my resolve. No. I will not ruin my car seats like this! With determination in my heart, I unbuckled my seatbelt to spare myself as much unnecessary pressure as possible and squeezed my thighs together as hard as I could without crossing my legs. I was going to make it. I had to. With fifteen minutes to go, I was shifting desperately in my seat again, this time almost constantly. I had pulled onto a pretty empty road, so I wasn’t too worried about crashing into the cars in front of me. With ten minutes, I was shaking and positively bursting. I knew that, if I didn’t get there soon, I would pee myself right there in the car. I sped up a little. With five minutes left in the journey, I turned onto the dirt road that led to the cabin. This was where things really started to fall apart. The road was ill-maintained and covered in… can they be called potholes if they’re not in pavement? Whatever. The road was filled with dirt potholes and bumpy as can be. I was already on the verge of losing control, but one or two of the potholes were big enough to jolt the pee out of me. After a couple more leaks, I was ready to give up, but the cabin came into view just in time. I pulled into the driveway shaking in anticipation and desperation. I turned off the car and braced myself for the strain of climbing out. It took a lot of energy not to wet myself completely, but I made it out of the car with relatively little damage. Upon closer inspection, I had left a small wet spot on the seat, but that was the least of my concerns. I had beaten my grandparents to the cabin, and that made it worth the wait. I hobbled over to the cabin door and went to pull it open… but to my horror, the door was padlocked shut. Of course it’s locked! Did I really expect my grandparents to leave their cabin unlocked for any would-be thief to break into while they were hours away? Without moving, I did a quick search of the surrounding area, but if they had a spare key, I didn’t see it. I slid the welcome mat away from the door with my foot, but the only things under it were dirt and worms. I shuddered at the sight, which was all my body needed to expel a huge spurt of pee from my bladder. I was bent at the knees, so the pee dripped back and wet the underside of my butt. The warmth made me want to lose control, but I fought the urge to let go and regained my composure. I paced the clearing that the cabin was located in for a moment, trying desperately to think of something to do to relieve myself. On one side of the cabin was the dirt road that I had come down. It was mostly empty, but I didn’t want to risk it. On the other side of the cabin was a lake, and on every side of the lake were other cabins. I couldn’t pee there either. There wasn’t a single piece of hidden land in the entire place! And all the time, I ran the risk of my grandparents arriving just in time to see me lose control like a child. I looked around one last time. Behind me was outhouse I hadn’t noticed before. I groaned. Disgusting, I thought, but it’s my last shot. I could only hope that it was real and not just for looks like so many of the things at the cabin. I shuffled desperately over to it. It wasn’t padlocked, although there was a place where it could be. I turned the latch, but to my horror, it didn’t line up. The door had warped somehow, and the latch wouldn’t come undone. I danced on the spot, desperately trying to hold back the flood as I fiddled with the mechanism, but I knew it was too late. In one last ditch effort, I crouched low to the ground, still too embarrassed to pull my pants down but hoping to keep them as dry as possible. The pee came splashing out of me with no hesitation, soaking the front of my pants and parts of my butt, but thankfully not touching my legs. The urine hit the ground and was immediately soaked up by the dry, thirsty soil, but, eventually, it became too much even for that, and began to puddle at my feet. When my bladder was finally empty, I stood up, grimacing at the drips of urine still making their way down my legs. I took in the damage with a sigh before returning to my car and retrieving my bag. Finding somewhere I hoped nobody would see me, I changed out of my ruined jeans and into a torn pair as quickly as I could. My grandparents didn’t arrive for nearly an hour, and I passed the time trying to get the urine smell out of my jeans by dunking them in the lake, then leaving them out to dry on the roof of my car. When my grandparents finally pulled in the driveway, I lied about the wet jeans, saying I had gone out to the dock to get a good look at the water and fallen in, then headed straight for the bathroom, eager for the tender (if slightly creepy) embrace of the shower-curtain. ... That's my story! I really hope you liked it, but if you didn't, you're still welcome to leave any constructive criticism in the comments. I added a picture of the door-latch because, if you couldn't tell, I didn't really know how to describe it... but, anyway, thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful day!
  3. Nineteen

    Interactive Pee Holding Adventures

    Oh gosh! I'm super excited!!
  4. Nineteen

    Interactive Pee Holding Adventures

    Jeez... I expected this thread to be dead but there are some pretty recent posts on here! I guess legends never die... so I guess I'll just contribute by saying how much I love these holding challenges! They're my favorite method of intentional pee holding! I hope we get to see some more of these being made, because I would absolutely love to do a new one and write a story about it!
  5. Nineteen

    Guns for the Vox

    Well I am very glad you liked it!
  6. It's been a while, readers! As much as I love writing on here, I've been a bit short on time and long on prior commitments lately, so I haven't had a lot of opportunities. Fortunately, I got sick enough of not posting on here that I decided to start down my list of ideas, which begins with a fairly old story, but, since it's similar to the one I posted before, I figured you guys might like it. So... here's hoping you actually do. Our story begins with me and my girlfriend (I'm bi, sue me). We had been friends for a long time before we decided to commit to a romantic relationship, but we got along very well and found each other attractive, so eventually we decided it should happen. This girl, we'll call her Stella, was my first real, committed relationship with a girl, so everything that came with it was new and exciting; lots of dates, lots of time spent together, lots of mushy gushy stuff where, before, there was only flirting and the odd kiss or touch... and some new sexual stuff, too, so I enjoyed a lot. We were on a date when this whole thing went down, only this particular date wasn't much of a date at all. We had planned a movie marathon of the Star Wars films (of which she had seen none) in our comfiest clothes- I wore a long, soft black shirt and light blue jeggings, plus some comfy, pink, fluffy socks, and Stella wore... gosh, I don't even remember, but it doesn't matter. Probably some shorty shorts, since it was summer and that was what she always wore around the house when she wasn't going out. Anyway, halfway through Empire, Stella decided that we needed a break that went from stretching our legs to making out on the couch (with the movie paused, of course- I didn't want her to miss any of it). We had been at it for a few minutes when things began to heat up. She had begun to kiss my neck, which she knew I loved, and began to lift up my shirt, but, when her fingers brushed my back, I arched away, and she dropped my shirt. "What?" Her surprise was evident on her face; she was worried I didn't want it. "Should I not...?" "No," I mumbled, immediately embarrassed, "that just... tickled, is all." Stella's face immediately lit up with a mischievous smile, and I knew exactly what was coming. Stella had discovered a long time before this moment exactly how ticklish I was, although, unlike my friends who found the whole thing extremely funny, tickling me turned my girlfriend on, probably more than anything else we had done up to that point. She said she 'liked the way I squirm,' which... if she wanted a partner who would do that a lot, she came to the right person. ;P "Oh..." she said, her voice dropping to a low, seductive purr, "is that a problem?" As a matter of fact, it was. Stella and I had only been dating for a couple weeks at this point, and I was not comfortable enough with her house to use the toilet, as I had only been there a couple times- yes, I know such a hang up is childish, but it's lead to one or two arousing incidents, so I don't work too hard to fix it. The point is, having been there for the length of a movie and a half, my bladder was getting rather full in spite of my efforts to drink minimal amounts of liquid, and Stella's decision to tickle me now was highly unfortunate. "Um..." I began, but before I could get another word out, she was upon me, tickling me mercilessly. I laughed, of course, but it was not a happy laugh, and, between fits of giggling, I continually begged my girlfriend to stop. "Stella, please," I would say, or "Stop, stop, please, stop," or "please, please, please," but she wouldn't let up. Soon, she straddled me. I began to struggle and squirm, and this was just what she wanted. Stella began to tickle me with renewed energy, and I could no longer fit pleas between my laughter. All I could do was writhe, but eventually she let up and I caught my breath. "Oh... my... gosh..." I gasped. Stella looked at me quizzically. "I... can't... jeez, could you...?" "Tickle you more? Absolutely!" Stella said brightly, but she held off, waiting for my actual question. "Could you... give me a second..." I wheezed. I was by no means overweight, but no more was I in tip-top shape. When I regained my breath, I finally spoke up. "Stella..." I hesitated. I was going to ask her to stop, my bladder still aching softly from the effort of staying tense and keeping all the liquid inside me, but she looked so happy; blushing slightly, smiling widely, her crotch warm against my own. I knew she was enjoying this. I can handle a bit more, I decided. I nodded and her grin widened. Then she was back at it. It only took a minute for me to remember exactly why I had begged her to stop; my bladder muscles were getting weaker and weaker, and I knew that, if I let this go on for too much longer, I would have an accident right here, on my girlfriend's couch. I still had no intention of going to the bathroom, but I was convinced that, if she satisfied herself tickling me and gave up, I could hold it until I was ready to head home. I was wrong, of course, but I never got the chance to find out, because, at that exact moment, I sprung a leak. My eyes sprung open and a gasp escaped my mouth, momentarily stopping my giggles. I squeezed hard, and the leak stopped, but Stella's tickling did not. I knew that, at this moment, it was urgent that she stop. "Oh my god..." I managed, my mirth reduced by the horrifying realization that I may actually lose control, "Stel...la... stop... stop... please... I'm gonna pee!" "Oh, hush," she said, biting her lip, "you're only saying that so I'll give you a break." "No... no!" I pleaded. "I'm... serious... Stella, please..." she wasn't stopping. Another leak. This one was continuous, although tiny. Stella still wasn't letting up. "No, no..." I moaned, shifting back and forth, grinding against her in an effort to make her stop, doing my best to pry her hands away from me, but all my strength was focused in my bladder, and I couldn't. My desperate squirms only seemed to turn her on more, and she bit her lip, grinding back against me. "Please, please!" I bucked my hips, but she still didn't stop. Another big spurt, and I could feel my pants dampen. I tried again, revolting my hips against Stella, and it worked- she shifted... directly onto my bladder. I gasped as a huge jet of pee shot out of me and straight down my leg, wetting my pants to mid-thigh. I sat bolt-upright, and Stella finally stopped, backing up to avoid being headbutted. My hands flew to my crotch, but it was too late. "Oh, god," I mumbled, "oh god..." The pee wouldn't stop coming, no matter how I shifted or how hard I squeezed. I looked away from Stella, face burning, and noticed her floor- it was a sort of porcelain fake wood flooring. My pee wouldn't soak into that, so if I was going to wet myself, I would do it standing over the floor. I shoved my girlfriend off and stumbled off the couch, standing up on the floor, then grabbing my crotch and crossing my legs in a last ditch effort to keep from wetting myself completely. No good. The pee raced out of my bladder faster than ever, soaking my pants quickly, spilling into my cute fluffy socks, and then puddling on the floor. Since I had been drinking minimal amounts of water, it had a strong smell, and I was certain it would stain my lightly colored underwear and socks. I kept my back to Stella until the flow had stopped completely, then turned slowly to look at her, my face red with embarrassment. To my surprise, she was red too, but her face wore a look of arousal; she was still biting her lip and a lazy smile spread across her face. I looked at her, confused, and in response, she got up and kissed me deeply. "Hey," she said, still in the same deep purr, "that was... sorta hot." I gaped at her, in total shock. She had the same fetish I did?! "I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said you were going to have an accident," she continued, "but... well, let's get this cleaned up." True to her word, she helped me clean up, got me a pair of her sweatpants while we put the soaked jeggings in the washer, and listened intently as I spilled the truth- that I actually really enjoyed it myself- before watching the rest of the film with me. Did Stella truly have the same kink I did? Well, sort of... it turned out later that she quite enjoyed watching me wet myself, but not the feeling of doing it herself. I didn't mind, of course. I wound up wetting myself for her a couple other times, although, since these were intentional, they didn't make for such exciting stories. I was never afraid to use the bathroom at her house again, either. When you've had an accident in front of someone, I suppose asking to use their toilet is a pretty major step down. She and I are still dating to this day, and I have no intention of breaking things off any time soon. Anyway, that was the whole story. If you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the comments, and check out some of my other stories, like "An Evening With Friends," which I actually referenced in this story, or "The Gates of Shambhala," one of my many fanfictions. I love writing stories for you guys, so if you have anything else you'd like me to do, feel free to let me know in the comments or by DM. Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon!
  7. Okay, there might already be a thread like this, and I might be posting in the wrong place, but I just absolutely love the creativity and talent on display in the gallery! Even if the posters of the original images aren't from the site, it still makes me happy to see all the time and effort someone put into drawing something related to one of my favorite things! It turns me on, makes me smile, and, in all honesty, makes me a little jealous of their skill all at the same time. I just wanted to throw it out there, how much I freaking love the gallery and everyone who submits images to it.
  8. Nineteen

    How old are you?

    Hm... let me see if I can remember. I am... one, two... skip a few... ninety-nine, one hundred! I bet I'm the oldest one on the site!
  9. Nineteen

    No Substitute for Omorashi.

    Yeah... this was my very first story and I was just experimenting with what I could do... so it's not so great. And for some reason I decided to write it from the perspective of a guy... I'm glad you think so but it definitely could've used some work...
  10. Nineteen

    Guns for the Vox

    Thank you! I'm so glad you think so!
  11. Nineteen

    Guns for the Vox

    So I actually really like this one. The ending is more heartfelt than the others, so I'd be really, really happy if you read all the way through. I wrote it after watching SAO Abridged... you know, the end of episode eight? Yeah, kinda got the inspiration from that. Anyway, this one has been a long time coming, so enjoy! ... Elizabeth bit her lip. She didn’t know exactly how long she had needed to pee, just that it was all she could think about right now. Mr. DeWitt had promised her Paris, but, right now, all she wanted was a toilet. To her dismay, however, they were in the middle of a firefight. “Elizabeth!” Booker shouted at her, grabbing her attention. “I could use a little help!” Elizabeth snapped her attention to the scene in front of her. Booker had already ended the lives of three Fink men- Elizabeth gasped as she looked at the bloody mess where the last one’s head had been- but he had taken wounds himself. She noted a bullet graze on his leg and a hole on his upper arm. “Got anything for this?” He asked impatiently. Elizabeth nodded hurriedly and turned to open a nearby tear that contained a box full of medkits. Booker continued to shoot at the Fink men as Elizabeth rushed over to the box and grabbed one of the first aid kits. “Booker,” she shouted. “Catch!” He looked up and she lobbed the kit towards him. He caught it easily and immediately started to dress his wounds. Elizabeth nodded, satisfied, and began to survey the room once more. There were still five men rushing between pillars and using the gap in gunfire to reload and regroup. Elizabeth decided she would change that. Looking up at the various tears available, she found one that housed an automated turret. This will send them running, Elizabeth thought. She closed her eyes and concentrated her entire mind on bringing the turret to life. A loud crack filled the air, and, when she opened her eyes again, the room was bright with the fire of a machine operated chaingun. Elizabeth watched as the men scattered again, but, to her horror, one was too slow and caught a full volley of bullets directly to the chest and stomach. He fell in a heap and stopped moving. Elizabeth gasped and covered her mouth, but, just as her eyes started to fill with tears over what she had done, a bullet whizzed by her head and caused her to fall to the ground from shock. She spent a moment looking at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath, but, when she came back to her senses, it wasn’t her breathing that was out of control. Her hands flew to her crotch, one clamping onto her leaking pee hole and the other landing on top of the first. She squeezed her legs together and clenched, hard. Even with all of her preventive measures, the flow took a moment to subside. She sat up, feeling her wet panties slide against her and a couple drips of urine leak down her leg. Her eyes widened in horror, but, just as she was about to look at the damage for herself, the gunfire in the room ceased. Elizabeth looked up to find that the room was empty, except for a few corpses, she and booker, and a loudly whining, smoking turret. Elizabeth recalled her tear and the turret vanished. “Alright,” Booker called, “that’s the last of ‘em. Ready to move on?” Elizabeth looked at the floor. “What is it?” Booker asked, walking closer. “It’s nothing…” Elizabeth responded, feeling a flush creep onto her face. Booker came closer still. “What?” He asked, coming within mere feet of the humiliated girl. “I didn’t hear you.” Elizabeth shook her head and continued to look at the ground, her face reddening further. Booker walked straight up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I saw what happened with that turret, Elizabeth. You don’t have to feel guilty, you know. He was going to try and kill us. You don’t have to blame yourself for getting him first.” Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes tearing up from the reminder of what had happened. “It really is completely fine.” Elizabeth nodded, and Booker smiled softly at her, before a thoughtful expression took it’s place. “Do you smell that? Popcorn…” He looked around, clearly trying to find the source of the smell, but Elizabeth could only turn away from him, embarrassed. She knew exactly where the smell was coming from. “Oh well,” he announced after searching for a moment and finding nothing. “Time to get moving.” Elizabeth nodded again, and waited for Booker’s footsteps to resume before following at a distance. She didn’t want him smelling her again. She was only a few steps into their journey, however, before another wave of desperation wracked her body. She was afraid to grab herself where Booker could see, so it was all she could do to clench her hands into fists at her sides and try to hold her pee in with muscles alone. After a few moments of agonizing desperation, Elizabeth was confident that the surge was almost over and began to relax… when another wave overtook her, even more intense than the one before. Before Elizabeth could react, a short jet of pee had escaped her, re-wetting her panties and dripping down her leg. Elizabeth gasped and grabbed herself, convinced that she couldn’t stop it any other way. After a long moment and another, longer spurt, she finally got herself under control, waiting until she was certain the wave of desperation had passed to relax. Elizabeth looked up, expecting to find Booker studying her with a disgusted expression, but, to her alarm, he had not only continued on without her, but was nowhere to be seen. Elizabeth considered running in the direction he had gone, but another pang of desperation put an end to that idea. After she had gotten her bladder under control (luckily with no squirts), she decided that it would be a much better idea to go look for a bathroom. The street was empty, save for the dead bodies of the Fink employees Booker had ended, so she was free to enter any building she desired. The first building she tried was locked, as were the second and third. Elizabeth nearly gave up and decided to pee in the street, but she seemed to recall a store that had been open on their way through. She began to walk back the way they came. She could practically feel her bladder filling up, but, to her dismay, the store she had in mind was all the way at the end of the street. She could barely make out the sign, but she was convinced that, if she could just make it to that store, she would have a chance to relieve her bladder. She had only walked a few yards when another stab of desperation seized her. With no one around to see her, she felt comfortable enough to grab herself to stop the flow… but, to her horror, it wasn’t enough. Even with her hands jammed into her crotch, drops of urine began to escape her. She gasped and bent forward at the waist, trying to find a safe position for her bladder. As if to spite her, her bladder’s only response was to increase the flow, a spurt escaping her pee hole, then another that shot through her panties and dampened the front of her skirt, under her hands. Elizabeth, gasped again, holding her breath this time, and crossing her legs, hard. Another spurt, longer this time. “No…” Elizabeth whimpered. Finally, Elizabeth’s only hope was to clench her bladder. To her amazement, the flow sputtered out and stopped. After a moment, the wave of desperation passed… sort of. Her bladder would not be ignored anymore. It would be a constant annoyance until she reached a bathroom or wet herself, she could tell. It was all she could do to hobble toward the building at the end of the street, bent into a position where she could maintain bladder control. Her bladder screamed at every step, but she closed the distance all the same. Thirty yards, twenty yards, ten yards, and finally she was there. There was only one thing in her way. Stairs. It was only five steps, but the first one was torture. She could hardly contain herself as her legs spread apart to mount the obstacle. The second one was better, but the third was worse. The fourth was agony, and Elizabeth felt a squirt escape her, but she couldn’t stop. Not so close to her goal. The last step was unbearably painful, but Elizabeth made it anyway. The only penalty was that her occasional squirt turned into a constant, light drip. Elizabeth pushed the door open, saying a silent prayer of thanks when it wasn’t locked. She stumbled into the store, looking anywhere and everywhere for a sign indicating a bathroom, but she found nothing. Instead, she stumbled into the back room, groaning as the movement turned her drip into a tiny stream, but she was so close… or so she thought. The back room was only a store room. Elizabeth moaned helplessly, but, just as she was about to despair, something popped up in the store room. A tear, with a full bathroom in it. Stalls, sinks, toilets- as many as she could want. The sight almost made Elizabeth lose control completely, but she held it in. She couldn’t let go this close to her goal. She closed her eyes and focused all her attention on the tear… but instead of a crack, Elizabeth heard a hiss. While she was distracted, her bladder had let loose in earnest. Despite the bathroom right in front of her, Elizabeth couldn’t stop the spray from escaping her exhausted bladder. All she could do was fall to her knees, grabbing more and more of her skirt to absorb the flow, although she had no idea why. The hiss was deafening, and Elizabeth could only look at the ceiling, her face beet red and tears dripping out of her eyes, as the entire contents of her bladder escaped, soaking her legs and her skirt and then collecting in an ever growing puddle on the floor. It took almost a minute for the flow to subside, and, as Elizabeth’s panic faded, she could only marvel at just how much pee she had been holding. When she finally finished peeing, she closed her eyes and stood up, cringing as the drips of pee that clung to her panties and skirt fell down her legs. When she turned around to leave, her eyes widened as she found Booker standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. “What happened?” He said, feigning ignorance, but when he saw the tears on Elizabeth’s face his tone changed. “Oh, I’m sorry Elizabeth. Are you okay?” “Yes,” she mumbled, “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and tried to suppress her soft sobs, but failed. Booker took her hands. “How did you find me?” She asked him in a quiet whisper. “I saw you struggling up the steps outside when I came looking for you,” he responded, “I was worried you were hurt. I hope you’re not too embarrassed, but this is kinda preferable to me.” Elizabeth was taken aback by his lack of disgust and could only giggle at his subtle joke. “I’m glad you’re not crying anymore,” he said softly. “Now come on, kid. We’ve got some guns to get.” He walked slowly out of the back room, stopping to make sure that Elizabeth was following. Elizabeth smiled weakly at him, wiped the tears from her eyes and followed. This would be a long day. ... So that's the end of the story! Please let me know what you thought in the comments (like whether you prefer it ending right after the accident or continuing for a couple more paragraphs) and thank you so much for reading! If you have any suggestions, shoot me a PM and I'll get to it as soon as I can, or feel free to read my other stuff!
  12. Nineteen

    The Party

    Okay, so chapter two! Aiden gets his revenge on Kirsten and her two friends (who I have named Jessica and Ashley because I don't think they were actually given names in the game... if they were and I'm dead wrong, sorry...) so read up if you want! Here goes nothing! ... Jodie had been locked in the closet for almost half an hour when Aiden finally returned. She was still miserable, cold, and wet, but her crying had finally stopped. The humiliation had yet to go away. The music had resumed a long time ago, and Jodie could feel the bass thumping beneath her feet. With her knees against her chest and her back against the wall, she could almost completely avoid the puddle of urine she had left in the center of the closet. The only thing still in the puddle was her shoes, which mercifully did not absorb the liquid. She looked up when she felt her companion enter and silently called out to him. “Get me out of here…” she pleaded. “Please…” Aiden complied, and, after a moment, the door clicked and opened. Jodie crawled out as quickly as she could, feeling her knees make contact with the- now cold- pee on the floor. Upon standing up, Jodie could see that the host and her friends had shut, and presumably locked, the door to keep her from re-entering the party should she escape from the closet. Fortunately, she had no intention of going back in. Aiden looked to her for a moment, waiting on her for a course of action. Jodie closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, considering the deep satisfaction that getting revenge on the party goers would bring her. After a moment, however, she decided that she would be the bigger person and leave. When she went to relay her decision to her silent companion, however… she discovered that he had already made a choice of his own. She called out to him, but he ignored her. He had already entered the party, and its guests would know his wrath. Jodie began to panic, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Whatever happened from here was out of her hands. All she could do was sit and wait. … Kirsten’s birthday party had taken a turn for the better ever since that little freak was locked up. Without Jodie bothering Matt, the Londoner had turned his attention to the birthday girl, who knew she was much more deserving of it. Aside from the lame book she had gotten, all her presents had been awesome. She especially looked forward to making use of the thong she had received, but, for now, her mind was elsewhere. With all the excitement, her time had been completely occupied; playing hostess, switching up the music, chatting with her friends, dancing, and consuming several beers, she had been completely distracted from a concern which had just become much more pressing. She was caught up in a conversation with Matt, but she knew that, very soon, she would need to excuse herself and use the bathroom. Matt, completely drunk and oblivious to her situation, continued to chat idly as Kirsten’s squirming became more and more pronounced. The beer had taken its toll and her bladder was filling up rapidly, but she was afraid to leave and return to find Matt occupied with one of her friends. So she stayed, and squirmed, and shifted and shook and squeezed her legs together, all the while feeling her bladder balloon inside of her. Just as the situation was finally reaching its climax and Kirsten’s desperation was coming to a head, the music kicked off. Matt was too drunk to notice, as was his friend, but Kirsten looked over at the stereo to see that, to her horror, the display had been shattered. Her eyes went wide and she looked around to see who had done it, but none of her guests were standing anywhere near it. “Oh my god you guys,” she exclaimed. “My mom is going to kill me if she finds out I broke this!” The other teens looked nonplussed. Kirsten looked at each of them in turn before a sudden pang in her bladder made her close her eyes and squeeze her thighs together in discomfort. It took a moment for the desperation to pass, but, once it had, she found that the environment had returned to the way it was despite the lack of music. Kirsten was about to voice her anger about the ruined stereo once more when a loud bang behind her made her start and pulled her attention away from the destruction. While she had been occupied by the stereo, the table had flipped over. Utter confusion overtook her for a moment, before realization set in. Jodie. Kirsten stormed over to the door, ignoring the noise as several beers were thrown from their container and the pans in the kitchen were knocked to the floor, as well as the mounting pain in her bladder. That little freak is using her witch magic to ruin my party! She came to a stop in front of the door and grabbed the handle, turning it savagely and pulling hard… but it didn’t budge. She smiled at her own foolishness, having momentarily forgotten that they had locked the door to keep the bitch out. To her confusion, she found the door unlocked. She turned the handle again and yanked once more, then twice and three times, but the door still didn’t open. Kirsten began to panic as another stab of discomfort seized her bladder. If this door didn’t open, she was going to be in serious trouble. She turned Matt and gave him an exasperated look. He wasn’t even looking at her. She huffed and walked over to him. “Matt!” He turned to face her, momentarily distracted from the chaos that Jodie was causing in the room. “Will you please get that door open for me?” She whined. “It’s stuck and I can’t make Jodie stop if I can’t get out of here.” Matt nodded and walked over to the door, giving it a hard tug. Instead of watching him attempt to open the door, Kirsten looked around the room, observing the mess that the witch was making. Jodie had knocked over every single chair or table that she could and everything that had been on them was now on the floor. Kirsten ground her teeth at the sight of the chaos, but, so far, the only real damage that had been done was- Oh god... another huge wave of desperation hit Kirsten so suddenly that she had no choice but to grab herself to hold it in. To her horror and mortification, even forcefully squeezing her pee in did not prevent several droplets from escaping into her panties. After a few seconds, Kirsten was finally able to get her bladder under control, but it felt like an eternity. She straightened back up and looked around at the guests, who were thankfully too distracted by Jodie’s temper tantrum to notice her situation. To her alarm, however, when her gaze fell on Matt, she found him still struggling to open the door. She was about to walk over to him when he was knocked flat onto his back by an unseen force. She gasped and backed away, but it was too late. Jodie grabbed her arm and yanked her several steps to the right, then grabbed her other arm and pulled her to the left, then back to her right and then to her left and so on until she finally fell to her knees. That seemed to be just what Jodie was waiting for, as she used the opportunity to shove Kirsten onto her back. The force of the blow made Kirsten’s bladder spasm and she grabbed herself again to keep it in, but, once again, failed to keep from leaking. This time her bladder let loose a long squirt that fully wet her underwear. It was only when the desperation subsided that she realized Jodie had stopped attacking her. In fact, it seemed that all of the chaos in the room had stopped completely. Kirsten sat up as quickly as her bladder would allow and took a look around the room. The entire party area was a disaster, with every surface being tipped and every beverage and snack being spilled. Kirsten frowned, but she was relieved that the only damage to the room was the stereo. That could be explained and everything else could be cleaned up. She was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when one of her friends screamed. She whipped her head around frantically, praying that Jodie hadn’t hurt anyone. When her eyes finally came to rest on the source of the scream, she found it to be Jessica, her friend with the glasses, legs pretzeled around one another, hands jammed into crotch, head bowed in shame. After a moment, Kirsten realized why; Jessica was peeing herself. The liquid escaped in cascades, soaking her pants, first down the thighs and then to her knees and then to her ankles, before finally pitter pattering into a puddle on the floor. Kirsten’s eyes went wide as she watched her friend wet her pants. After a moment of watching the spectacle, Kirsten noticed something. The area around Jessica’s bladder was depressed, pushed in in a way that made it look like… Wait, Kirsten thought, did my squirt make Jodie decide to make Jess pee herself? Indeed, it seemed that the wetting had distracted Jodie from destroying anything else, and, for that, Kirsten was thankful. It was only after a moment of silence that another cry came from another corner of the room. Kirsten turned to look in the direction of the noise, only to find Ashley, her friend in pink, huddled in a corner. Kirsten stumbled up from her sitting position and rushed over to her to see if she was hurt, but when she got closer, she found an entirely different situation. Ashley was crying silently, her hands in a death grip on her crotch. Despite her best efforts, however, Kirsten could see urine escaping from her, spraying audibly out of her pee hole and past her fingers to pool on the floor. Ashley was bright red, clearly mortified. Kirsten watched in morbid fascination as Ashley’s bladder emptied into her pants and onto the floor. As the stream faltered and stopped, Kirsten wondered who the next victim would be… but only for a moment, before realizing suddenly that it would be her. “NO!” She cried, rushing for the door and yanking on it again and again. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” She stopped pulling at the door and turned to address the empty air, hoping Jodie could see her. “Jodie, listen…” she pleaded. “I know we were jerks and we made you wet yourself, but please don’t m-” Kirsten’s plea was interrupted as an invisible force drove into her bladder. She nearly doubled over before falling to her knees on the floor. She fought against it for a moment, but the force pushed harder and harder, urging her to let go until, finally, she couldn’t resist. Even as she battled against her bladder, she felt her control slip. She lost control in spurts at first, struggling to regain control even as pee escaped her, but after a few seconds of increasing pressure, she could no longer stop it. The spurts became a constant dribble, then a stream, then a river, then a firehose, spraying out of her and wetting her pants to the knee, before dripping down onto the floor below her. Kirsten could do nothing to fight it. As the flow finally subsided and Jodie’s attack returned its focus to the room around her, all Kirsten could do was sit there. As blush crept across her face and urine soaked further into her pants, all she could think about was whether she really should have been so mean to Jodie. While the party exploded into chaos all around her, Kirsten felt sorry. ... Was that any good? I don't know, but I hope you all enjoyed it! I should be finished with a Bioshock: Infinite story sometime in the next week, so feel free to subscribe or something if you want to keep an eye out for that. If you liked the original story or this chapter, you're welcome to leave a comment, or, if you hated them both, I appreciate constructive criticism too! Thanks for reading!
  13. Nineteen

    The Party

    Thank you so much!
  14. Nineteen

    The Party

    It should be on it's way in the next week! Thanks for the support!
  15. Nineteen

    The Party

    Thank you! I plan on posting another chapter soon!