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  1. Hello everyone! I'm back with another alternate perspective from existing stories on Omoorg (these are turning out to be surprisingly fun!). After reading @BartleyZumboza's story Tales from a Country Where Women don't Pee (Link below), I thought it would be interesting to create another perspective of another character that lives in this island nation as the premise of the original story was really interesting and I wanted to expand on it (With the author's endorsement, of course.)! In case you haven't read the original, I highly advise you do so as it has important context to this story, as I would almost consider this story like a "fan sequel". Also the original is super cool so you should read it anyway! I hope to collaborate more with Bartlet in the future! Without further ado! Here are More Tales from a Country where Women Don't Pee! Word Count: 5,801 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello everyone! I have been a long-time lurker on this site but have finally decided to come out of hiding. This is in part due to Kanu’s explanation and stories of our small island of the Kingdom of Jalabhumi. Seeing such a positive reaction to our small island nation inspired me to write about some of my own experiences of our small island nation and it’s intricacies. I will be forgoing my name as well as the names of my friends and family to protect our identities as, well, we are a small nation. I wouldn’t want to expose my fiancé or my friends and family members as it wouldn’t be the most difficult thing in the world to find out who we are and where we live (For example, Kanu, if you’re reading this, I know exactly what hotel you work at and your wife’s name has been dropped from time to time, as she is becoming a local celebrity, but I digress… :P). For those unaware, the people of our island practice a unique religion where our women act as our protectors against nature and invaders, by forgoing uses of the restroom to hold at their maximum capacities. Their service is to our goddess, Anakketta, helping her keep her liquids at bay by retaining as much of theirs. It’s a very spiritual and developed religion as it is one of great age. However, I admittedly am not very good at explaining it, Kanu does a much better job of doing so, so I will link his post here in case you haven’t read it already, which I highly recommend you do. Anyway, I’d like to open about some of my experiences. My mother and father were what you would call a typical Jalabhumese family: my mother the head of household and my father being the “paṇikkutira”, or workhorse, of the family. My mother worked as well, but only a few hours a week, compared to my father which I didn’t see or even hear from too often. A Jalabhumese family is obviously matriarchal, with the woman of the house controlling the finances and decisions, but my mother was strict and dominated the house. It seems like an exaggeration, but my father was on a tight leash. Onto the rest of my family, well… it’s safe to say I wasn’t the favorite. I had SEVEN older sisters, I was the last child, and the only male. It seems as sex forward as Jalabhumese society can be, I think my mother still preferred forgoing contraceptives. Seven sisters. In a female dominated society. You’d be correct to say I got more than my fair amount of teasing from my sisters, elder and younger. I’ve watched them all go through adolescence and practice Niranyu. They are all very capable women, with my eldest sister being the most impressive. She was taught directly from my mother, who is just as impressive. My other sisters weren’t taught nearly as strictly as my eldest sister was, but they are all capable of holding two days, maybe three before performing an Anakketta Chearccha. My sisters would haze me for being a male and not being able to perform to the standards they could set. This is common in Jalabhumi, sexism against men isn’t very common as it is mostly teasing and hazing by the women, but some young men have stepped forward claiming they’ve been feeling harassed and marginalized because of how women treat them. It’s a topic everyone has an opinion on, but I won’t get too political here. My sisters’ hazing did make me feel a little inadequate, admittedly, so I started practicing my own holding schedule right when I hit my teens, and I found the first few hours to be pretty easy, easier than I thought, actually. I was able to hold for an entire day rather comfortably, easily being able to go when getting up, making it through school, then the rest of the day, then relieving myself before going to sleep. I’ve even been able to make it to the morning after, albeit with considerable discomfort. At this rate I could challenge my sisters at their Niranyu. I wouldn’t necessarily participate in Niranyu; a man doing so has been considered somewhat taboo as it supposedly threatens the standing of women as our dominate figures. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to for quite a few years. I was always considered one of the best students in our school system, got very good grades, and my father always saw potential in me. My mother was content with whatever I end up being, be it a service worker of even just a house-husband, not uncommon occupations in Jalabhumi. However, my father saw more in me, and somewhat against my mother’s wishes, he arranged a host family in the UK to house me as I studied in one of Britain’s top secondary schools. At 14, I was moving halfway across the world from the tiny island I called my home. I won’t go into too much detail here as obviously it is unrelated to Jalabhumi, but the TL; DR is that I completed my secondary schooling in the UK with honors, then moved onto college in Amsterdam where I earned a degree in Data Analytics. I became fluent in English and very easily could’ve stayed in Europe for the rest of my life. But I was homesick. I never revisited my family back in Jalabhumi, only exchanging video calls every week or so with my parents. I would rarely see my sisters as some of them had already moved out and gotten jobs on the island (the second oldest was the only one who left, becoming a resort manager in the Maldives). Needless to say, I missed my family, even my bothersome sisters. Perhaps because I had a point to prove to them. While staying in Europe, I continued to practice holding my bladder, not out of any need or desire, but just because I could. I dumbfounded myself with how natural holding came to me, and it was relatively easy to build up the strength to last another day, then a second, making it so I could easily hold for three days. My bladder didn’t so much as bulge from all this holding or liquid, as many Jalabhumi women are prone to do, to the point they look ready to give birth, but it made the area in my abdomen extremely hard and dense. I suppose my bladder doesn’t so much stretch as it does have strength for what it is. Anyway, I had lived in Europe for 6 years, gotten a good job at an international corporation, but couldn’t deny myself from my home country any longer. I missed the culture and the food (European food always seemed so bland and dry to that in Jalabhumi), and the weather especially. The UK and the Netherlands were certainly rainy and wet as Jalabhumi often is but adjusting to the frigid temperatures in the winter almost turned me into an icicle. I asked my work if it was possible to work from a tiny island in the Indian Ocean, and to my delight, they said that my services would be more than satisfactory working remotely. I told my family the wonderful news, and my parents were delighted, my mother in tears. I suppose she did love her son even though she never really showed it before. I said goodbye to the few friends I made in Europe, and basically sold the few belongings I had and moved back to my beloved Jalabhumi. My parents organized a big reunion with all my sisters to welcome me back. Everyone was happy to see me, hugs, gifts, and a lot of catching up to do. A couple of my sisters already had husbands, my oldest sister even expecting a child. However, she was still quick to harass me, much as she had in the past. She was skeptical that the “outside world” may have corrupted me, reminding me that as a man, I have a position in Jalabhumese society to service a wife, as opposed to the male-dominated society I had grown accustomed to. I’ll admit I got a bit annoyed. I started a bit of a heated debate with her which I probably shouldn’t have. Arguing with my sister is frustrating, as she always tries to divert the subject or come up with bullshit arguments. One of these diversions came up, when she realized she ran out of convincing arguments: “Whatever, [me]. I don’t have to take your word for a second. Especially a man unable to hold the burdens of Anakketta that a woman would.” She said smugly. I kind of lost it here. I told her that I am not the little boy she knew more than half a decade ago. I still had the blood of a Jalabhumi in me, my bladder is just as capable as any other. This outburst rocked the already awkwardly unsettled reunion. Breaking the gender gap and asserting that a man can hold as well as a woman can is unheard of in Jalabhumi; it was just common knowledge that they weren’t. But I was confident in my bladder’s abilities, and I had a massive point to prove to not only her, but my other sisters and my parents. My sister scoffed and said that the education in Europe had corrupted my mind of the superior gender dynamic in Jalabhumi. I called her out as saying she was scared. Honestly a bit of a bluff, but she was as competitive as anyone. And the gloves were off. My oldest sister officially challenged me, in front of my entire family, that she would be here tomorrow and participate in a test of our bladders. I confidently accepted; I even taunted her my claiming her pregnancy would make it an easy victory for me. She had no response but to sulk and return to her room, which her husband sheepishly and quietly followed behind. My mother chewed me out for being so aggressive and claimed to not go through such a challenge to avoid humiliating myself. I snapped at her saying that I again was not the boy I used to be, and I wouldn’t back down from the sister that always harassed me. My father pulled my mother back and gave her a nod to say that it would be best to settle our differences ourselves. The reunion ended then and there, everyone quietly returning to their rooms. I went back to my old room, which my mother converted into a place she sewed after I moved out, the sewing machine on my old desk, but my bed just as I remembered it. I laid in bed, physically and mentally preparing myself for the contest to prove myself and see my sister fail. Waking up the next morning was a bit surreal, being in the room I hadn’t been in since I was a child. The rush of nostalgia was complemented by my mother making breakfast. It was like going back in time. I crawled out of bed and into the dining room where my oldest sister was already eating, and notably had her legs crossed and bouncing. I admittedly hadn’t peed in almost two days so I was also feeling an early morning need but nothing I couldn’t manage. I said good morning, and my sister whipped her head around. I expected some kind of death glare or snarky comment, but to my surprise, she actually gave me an apology. She said she was just worried about how I would be after being away for so long and that she was defensive because she cared about me and didn’t want me to change into some misogynist while I was studying abroad. The TL; DR, she was just worried about me and paranoid that I would change. It was a nice heart-to-heart, even barely though I was barely awake. We made up, hugged it out, and I can truly say that despite her past teasing, my sister still cared about me. It was nice. But there was another thing. She made a very brief comment essentially calling off the contest we made in our anger yesterday, citing that “she didn’t want to put me through that.” I didn’t back down though. I jokingly said I wasn’t the younger brother she knew me as before and that I wouldn’t back down. She laughed, saying that even still, a man would never be capable of holding as much as a woman who was trained in Niranyu, slightly mockingly. She announced that even during her pregnancy, she would still only relieve herself at a minimum of once every two days. I mentioned it was more than two days since I had last relieved myself, and she was quite taken aback. The time didn’t exactly blow her out of the water, but I could tell her confidence had waned a bit at this notion. Finally, after a bit of bickering, she conceded: “Fine! If you want to be so adamant, we can have a friendly contest of strength after I complete my Anakketta Chearccha later today. Just don’t get too grumpy when you lose!” she said with a smug grin amidst fidgeting, crossed legs, even placing a hand on her lap. My mother could only smile as she heard our contest. It was not uncommon for my sisters to bicker about who had the best bladder, to which my mother saw as adequate “practice” for Niranyu in their adolescence. I suppose our little contest was a bit of a nostalgia trip for her as well. My eldest sister and I were the first ones up, my other sisters slowly trickled into the dining room after smelling my mother’s cooking. The husbands had left the night before to return to their roles in the house and for work. We told them about our contest, and they all seemed quite bewildered for being able to hold for two days. The third oldest even called my bluff saying I was lying. I let her feel my rock-hard abdomen for confirmation, which she conceded. The force of her palm certainly wasn’t welcome. After breakfast, my eldest sister was already considerably more fidgety and desperate, as were the rest of my sisters, as a matter of fact. As they all were meeting up for my return anyway, they organized their Niranyu services to be synchronized for Anakketta Chearccha. It is said that group AC’s are good practices to occasionally take part in within groups of family and friends. The Anakettapustakam scripture (I don’t recall which passage) states that these group AC’s are ways of testing Anakketta’s strength so she can hold back even stronger floods, as well as improve the willpower of the women performing them, as well as deepening the bond and friendship between them. Occasionally you will see a long line of women at one shrine when others are available, as it is said breaking the group into multiple shrines is bad luck for Anaketta. So, I sat with my sisters eating our delicious breakfast as they each showed varying degrees of desperation. My youngest sister who is still a year older than me has the smallest bladder of the seven sisters, and she was about ready to explode. Fidgeting in her seat, scissoring her legs, and making slight moans and groans between bites. Sitting next to me, it was quite annoying listening to her, as it didn’t make my situation any easier either. Looking down the line of my sisters, glancing at their abdomens they looked just about as pregnant as the eldest, who of course was actually pregnant. More fidgeting, crotch grabbing, you know, the works. As I grew to know each sister, they all seemed to have their own “style” of holding, it would seem, it’s very interesting. However, for the sake of being concise, I won’t get into the details… for now. After breakfast, the youngest seemed just about ready to burst, she begged the others if they could already commit their Anakketta Chearccha, and that she apologized for being so weak, blaming the drinks she had the night before, and that she would make it up for the next one. Rather begrudgingly, they all agreed, but I think they were all somewhat relieved that someone else asked first; they all seemed to be very clearly in a desperate state. As they were leaving to begin their short pilgrimage to the shrine, my eldest sister said that she would give me a slight head start by saying I should use the bathroom now, and that we would begin our contest when they came back (wouldn’t it be more of a handicap then, if I was going to relieve myself first?). I did relieve myself anyway when they left, and this is where I would like to get into the bathroom facilities of Jalabhumi, to which I’m surprised Kanu failed to mention in detail in his work. Running water and plumbing services were introduced to Jalabhumi around the same time the rest of the world did, our capital city even getting a state-of-the-art water system that some western cities would envy even today (thank our brilliant women engineers!). However, the concept of toilets in Jalabhumi was a very controversial issue some decades ago. Historically women would of course commit to their shrines and men would mostly relieve themselves wherever they pleased, but the issue of the… “other” need was relegated to outhouses and sanitation shacks. These structures were mostly shared between houses and very basic, only meant to service that “second need”. When Jalabhumi got our plumbing system, we forwent our waste services for more than a century, but when we started getting tourists and other nations declaring us a third-world country for lacking private amenities, it created some controversy. The government went back and forth on the issue, seeing it as a necessary quality of life for modern homes in Jalabhumi, but more radical politicians stating it will make women complacent by having a way to relieve themselves in their own homes without needing to visit a shrine, and thus weaken the strength of Anakketta. A solution was reached when a team of engineers designed a very special toilet: one specifically used for that second need, while making it impossible for women to relieve their normal burdens without making a huge mess on the floor. By using a much smaller seat, you could comfortably sit on it and do your “business” without being tempted to piss along with it (which still took a great deal of strength). Men could still easily pee standing up into the bowl (granted they have good aim), but it was nigh impossible for women to pee in the bowl cleanly without doing some insane acrobatics and contortions. Generally speaking, it still uses the honor system, but peeing in a toilet as a women is a one way ticket to being called a jaladhara, naturally. So yeah, history lesson over. I took a relaxing piss, taking well over a minute to complete, before heading back to my room to work on my laptop for a few things I needed to complete for work before my sisters get back. I took them the better part of two hours for them to come back, where they explained that another group of women were ahead of them, and my eldest sister, stubborn as she is, refused to commute to a different shrine, because the priestess at this shrine was a close friend of her that she had not spoken to for some time. Needless to say, you can imagine the state of my sisters with huge, bulging bladders, double crossing their legs, hopping from foot to foot, yet maintaining their composure as best they can with small talk with the other group. Before you ask why I didn’t tag along, it is generally frowned upon for a man to attend an Anakketta Chearccha if they aren’t their husband or lover, even if it’s family. Nevertheless, my sisters looked a lot less bloated and a lot more relieved come their return. This is when my sister declared our contest official, cementing it by downing an entire glass of fruit juice high in diuretics, and urged I do the same, which I did. We cheered to a friendly competition between family, but we went along our regular days, checking in on one another to tease and such. The first day was naturally rather uneventful. We both matched our drinking levels, both of us attempting to one up the other. By the time I went to bed that night, I was quite full, not in the bladder, but in my stomach from all the liquids we drank. Sleeping it off was easy. Waking up the next morning was not much different, greeted my sister the same, and I made my own breakfast since our mother was out doing community work maintaining a local shrine. The only main difference was that my sister and I drank perhaps three times we normally would, but we didn’t overdo it. She then surprised me suggesting we go into town and scour the local market for fresh fruits for dinner. She also hinted that it would be a fun challenge for me. Seeing squirmy and bulging women in public in Jalabhumi was far from an uncommon sight, so much so it’s almost expected, so some desperation is only natural. Seeing a man squirm, tug on his crotch, and stagger his walk would raise a few eyebrows. Some conservative citizens would even cringe in disgust as they see it as an “attack” on the culture of Jalabhumi. I think that was my sister’s intention. I admittedly did have a bit of a nag in my bladder, all the juices were finally making its way through me. Maintaining my composure wasn’t too difficult out on the town, even after my sister offloaded heavy bags of fruit and vegetables. I concede that when we got back from our shopping, I did have a bit of an err in my step, almost like a limp. I was hardly desperate, but sometimes I would get a bit of a pang from my abdomen alerting me to consider using the bathroom. My sister exhibited little example of the sort. I was beginning to get a bit concerned whether I would eat my words, but luckily, I got a bit of a confidence boost while dinner was being prepared. My father was staying late at his manual labor job, so my mother and sister made something like that of curry with the juicy fruits we bought today. I was relegated to the living room (or at least our equivalent of a living room in Jalabhumi), as I was as useless in the kitchen as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. I mostly browsed the internet on my laptop, and I suppose my sister didn’t think I was paying attention, because their signs of desperation were profound. They swung their hips back and forth, crossed their legs, hopped from foot to foot, pretty much someone on the verge of having an accident. I also noticed her whisper something to my mother next to her. I’m no expert at lip-reading but if I had to guess, it was something along the lines of: “How is he holding it so long? He should have pissed a long time ago!”. My mother’s shrug in response seems to support this theory. It gave me the confidence to keep going, even when my abdomen became solid to the touch, and I occasionally had to shift how I sat to keep myself distracted. Dinner came and went and the fruits we bought were certainly beginning to have an effect. Jalabhumi has some fruits that are solely native to the island, and we hardly ever export them as we only produce enough to sustain ourselves on such a small, remote island. These fruits are incredibly juicy and flavorful but have some of the highest diuretic properties of anything that you can consume, much more that you would find in a normal pharmacy, that’s for sure. Jalabhumese men and women have almost built what you would call a tolerance for the effects of the fruits, but they are still extremely profound. An average Jalabhumese women probably would be able to go an extra day or more if given a normal diet of crop from the continents. I can’t say the same for tourists, however, it’s not uncommon for a tourist to finish a meal then rush straight to a restroom ready to piss themselves. The curry was having an effect on me, going to bed after dinner I was able to grip my penis and hold myself to my heart’s content without the eyes of my sister, but it made falling asleep difficult. However, I could take solace in the fact that my sister ate perhaps twice as much as I did without thinking, as she was eating for two after all, and two would also be making fluids for the bladder of one. Waking up the next morning was interesting. My dreams were filled with nothing but scenes of raging waterfalls and torrential rains. It was almost as if it was a flood not even Anaketta could contain. Luckily, I woke up dry, I thanked myself for the training and my bladder not failing me. I walked into the dining room to see my sister all by herself. Her hands gripping her legs, her foot tapping rapidly, and her left leg fiercely crossed over her right. Her expression was one that can only be described as truly desperate. I said good morning, and she frantically replied the same. I could tell things were getting interesting, but I admit I was starting to cut it close, nearing 72 hours of non-stop holding. I knew my limit wasn’t far off, but my sister’s wasn’t either. I asked her where everyone was, noting the emptiness of the house. She replied that everyone but her went to perform another Anaketta Chearccha, with my dad going to work. I sat next to her, I wasn’t particularly hungry considering how full I was, and I mostly wanted to just stay still to avoid an accident. It sounds weird, but at this point my sister was a sight to behold. Along with her pregnant figure, her abdomen was still very prominent below it, signifying a large bladder bulge, no doubt her baby resting and squeezing it from above. She looked the most desperate I had ever seen her, and I must admit I was almost proud of the fact. Bringing my sister to this state was an accomplishment for both of us, but I certainly wasn’t going to quit now. Hours crawled by, each minute bringing more strain than the next. I tried my best to distract myself with movies and videos on my laptop, but it was incredibly difficult to stay still in any meaningful capacity. I wouldn’t say I was “pee dancing” by this point, but to say I wasn’t aggressively fidgeting would be a blatant lie. My sister was similar, but looked far more frantic. She didn’t wish to preserve her self-image anymore; she clutched her crotch around her curvaceous bulge and constantly scissored and gripped her legs tightly together. She was hardly subtle about observing my condition either, constantly fixating her eyes on my and my abdomen, looking for a bulge or a leak, anything to give her hope. My confidence grew, but I knew that nothing is over until it’s over. And then, as if on cue, a faint rumble of thunder could be heard above us, followed by a louder rumble, then an even louder crack. A sprinkle of rain began hitting the window, which quickly grew into a massive downpour in no less than a minute. Jalabhumi’s weather on full display. This worked to my advantage. I’m not one to easily falter to the sound of rain or waterfalls or dripping faucets. They more so serve as a “reminder” of needing to pee rather than amplifying the need. My sister wasn’t in the same boat. As the onslaught of water berated the house, her expression showed the clenching of teeth and grimaces of strain. She audibly swore under her breath, pleading to herself to just hang on a little bit longer, that she would win if she just kept holding. I was starting to feel bad for her. Maybe I should just concede? I wouldn’t want her to hurt herself or her baby, as she was clearing going beyond her limit. I gave her another 15 minutes of intense strain, and I couldn’t suppress my guilt any longer. My sister looked like an absolute wreck. Her face was pale with her brow drenched in sweat, her abdomen looking so swollen her shirt could not contain it, hunched over, her legs crossed so tightly it risked popping a blood vessel. I decided that there were no winners in this contest, and that I had to be the bigger man. “Right.” I spoke up. “This is over. I had enough of this.” I began to stand up slowly, the action creating a great toll on my bladder as I could feel urine already start to enter my urethra. My sister could barely speak. “H-h-huh?...” She spoke softly. “W-what do you mean?...” I gave no response other than to walk to the sliding door of our living room, where upon opening it I was faced with the oppressive downpour created by Talikkuka. My bladder protesting fiercely but knowing relief was near, it nearly began the process of emptying itself then and there. It took nearly all I had to stem it off, just for a few more seconds. That was all I needed. I undid my pants, whipped out my penis, and immediately pissed a downpour strong enough to contest the rain beating on my body. To say the relief was heavenly was an understatement. The stream was the strongest I could possibly produce, but the process of emptying my titanium-steel bladder took it’s time, and the relief was slow to escalate, but it was absolutely amazing. The stream even started to make a divet in the dirt, but I could hardly care about the landscaping at this point. Pissing so much, so freely, in the rain, it was like out of a movie or fanfiction, it didn’t even seem real. From about 5 minutes since the beginning of my piss, it eventually started to taper off, my bladder finally emptying, and myself in complete ecstasy. I just barely noticed the hiss of a second stream next to me, and to my surprise, found my sister denying her duties as a servant of Anaketta, squat down with her pants around her ankles peeing into the grass as freely as I was, her stream contesting mine. She let out an audible moan that sounded more like an orgasm. You could see her abdomen shrink ever so slightly over time, almost as if her bladder took up more room than her baby. She prayed through her moaning, begging Anaketta for her forgiveness but also thanking her for her desperately needed relief. I was about done by this point, and wanted to give her some privacy, well, as much as I could. I shook off (as guys do when they finish), went back inside and started drying myself off from the rain with a towel. My sister went inside shortly after, looking beyond relieved and much healthier, her color returning to her face much more relaxed, only drenched, and the only semblance of a bulge being that of her offspring. “I guess you won huh?” I asked her jokingly. She didn’t respond at first. I took it as her being ashamed of pissing outside her duties, so I decided to keep quiet. But the next thing I knew was being hugged tightly by her. “Thank you… Thank you so much…” She muttered with tearful eyes. I’m glad I took the initiative to end our silly contest. I knew my sister was not one to lose easily or bring shame upon herself, even if it could kill her. She probably knew this as well, but was against herself with coming up with the courage to actually piss when she was well past her limit. I perhaps saved her from more than I know. I hugged her tightly. “You’re welcome.” It was a heartfelt moment I’ve never felt with any of my sisters. It brought us closer together than ever before, and it made me appreciate my family as a whole. The two of us relaxed, and talked much more freely like siblings, putting the contest behind us. The rest of the family showed up about an hour later, and noting our relaxed expressions, knew that the contest was over. My sisters immediately asked us who won. My sister looked at me, and said she did, but it was really close. I agreed. My sisters were joyed that one of their own won, but still were beyond impressed by my sister’s account, citing that I had the biggest bladder of any man on Jalabhumi, a nice title, to be sure. I never brought up my sister peeing in the backyard. To the rest of my family, she managed to reach a shrine well after I had already relieved myself, and that’s the story that appears to be true in my family’s eyes. But she knew the truth, and we came to a mutual respect between the two of us. We ate dinner as a family, being once again welcomed home by my family with much less tension and can truthfully say that I appreciated them much more after the contest than before. But life moves on. My sisters went back to their lives and homes, and I decided to follow through living on Jalabhumi but separate from my parents. I found a nice home on the outskirts of Anakkettapuram, with a strong internet connection to work and even play games and chat online with my friends. This is where I met my fiancé, who I’ll get into detail the next time I write. She is a very interesting character I’d like you all to meet, and I’m proud to call her my future wife. Until then, I hoped you enjoyed my own little excerpt of my small home nation and its intricacies! If you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them in my next post! And of course, I’d like to thank Kanu for the wonderful inspiration of exposing our island to you wonderful people. Until then! Talkkālaṁ viṭa!
  2. That's more than a flood. Thanks to Lilialynx for the art

    © Furaffinity.net

  3. Guest

    Locked_In_The_Room.png

    From the album: Omonomiyaki's OC illustrations

    Here's the rough sketch. Consider it a teaser, because the finished work will only be on www.patreon.com/asnesbo 😈 💛
  4. Hey all, this is my first story on here - I've been writing these for years but never posted. I have a few of them backed up and will probably drop them all in here in the next few days, and just delete them if it doesn't go well. For a first story, this one is pretty far off the rails. Heavily influenced by Infinite Jest (almost called this story Infinite Desp lol), it's set in a near future with dystopic hypercapitalist vibes - AI implants, invasive advertising, pervasive loneliness, climate change, etc. Anyway, here goes nothing - open to feedback from the many great writers on here. ---- "Congratulations to the 2083 Met Life Kraft-Heinz New York Yankees on their win tonight, brought to you by JP Morgan Prixe-Rite subprime mortgage securities!" Megan's ocular implants lit up as she looked across the stadium, creating for her and all others watching a 75-foot Aaron Judge (in his prime, they must have taken the reference footage for the AI model 50 years ago) who smiled and waved at the crowd from the middle of the diamond at Yankee Stadium, and then spoke in a booming voice that blared both through the speakers and their personal auditory interfaces. “Thank you all for being here tonight! Go Yankees and always remember to use the fresh scented Crest Ultra White strips!” The monolithic hologram faded out, and Megan turned back to her friend Clara in their very real bleacher seats. “This was amazing, I’ve never attended a physical baseball game before! I'd only heard stories from my grandparents. Crazy they’ve kept this old school stadium standing for this long.” Clara downed the last of her beer and began to stand. "I mean not really standing - they had to move it to the Pennsylvania waterfront after the original Manhattan flooded obviously. I did a VR scuba diving tour of original Manhattan the other day, highly recommend." Megan agreed, her head nodding and shaking her blonde curls. “Sounds super cool. Hey, can we head to the bathroom before we head out?" "Sure, I have to go too." Clara agreed. Megan followed her friend, holding her hand to keep close. When was the last time they'd seen each other in person? When was the last time she'd seen any of her friends in person, truly? It was getting harder to distinguish between her online VR worlds and in-person experiences at this point. But physically seeing Clara felt right - not to mention she looked amazing tonight. Megan allowed her vision to rest on the swing of Clara's hips and shapely butt in her tight jeans as they weaved through the crowed together, enjoying the warmth of her hand, remembering what it felt like to touch her so many years ago. Part of her had never gotten over Clara since the "thing" they had back in college…was it even a thing? Would Clara still even remember, or care? It had been so long since she actually touched someone… The pair wound their way through the stadium, a sea of holograms and assisted-reality advertisements from a hundred different vendors assailing their senses, beamed from the cloud directly into their eyes and ears. At the bathroom, a line snaked its way out the door. As expected. Truth be told, Megan had needed to pee badly for the last 3 innings, and had been making a valiant effort to retain her composure in front of her friend. She wasn't used to in-person events; nobody was these days. She could always just pee at home during every other VR concert and game! If that even happened - bio-enhanced organic systems everyone had installed these days meant she had tremendous holding capacity, usually needing to pee once a day at most. She certainly hadn't even thought about it before coming here. Meg turned to her long-time friend. "Ugh, this line. I really have to go…" "Yeah, me too. Those beers were insane - have you ever even seen ones like that?" Clara was subtly tapping her sandal on the concrete. Meg shifted her weight from one foot to the other at the end of the line. "So remember how NYC put those regulations in place during the Ocasio-Cortez administration, where it's illegal to have more than like 1 unit of alcohol in a single drink? Apparently the Yankees lobbied for some loophole where they can sell "historical reenactment" beers from the size they had in the 2020s."| "Great way to sell a 30oz Coors Lite for $59!" Clara laughed nervously, obviously trying to distract herself. "Hah, true. But did we really have to have 3 each??" "Well I didn't regret it until now…" Megan's ocular interface lit up with a new notification. "Hey bestie?" It was the voice of Aileen, the omnipresent AI companion automatically installed in billions of humans' neural implants when the Meta-Perdue merger completed in 2076. I thought I told you not to call me that. Megan aimed her thoughts at the little avatar in the corner of her vision, in her case a spritely young woman algorithmically designed to elicit feelings of friendship based on her psych profile. She felt no such warm fuzzies right now. "Understood. Ok, so. Warning. You probably noticed, but you'll need to pee soon. Here are your current stats brought to you by Pfizer: Urinary bladder approaching capacity limit. 11.3% capacity remaining. Current retained volume, 2,721 milliliters. Estimated time to maximum fullness, 21 minutes." Yeah, I noticed. Megan shot back to the interface in her thoughts, brushing the block of written stats off her vision. Actually, have I even peed at all today? "You have not urinated since 7:06pm yesterday evening. Roughly 27 hours. Significantly longer than your average interval of 19h 7m." Damn. Ok. But we're gonna be in this line for a while, like probably more than 21 minutes. Can you do anything about it? “Capacity increase firmware upgrades are available in the Pfizer App Store. You're already on a Silver tier organ subscription with 3,000ml recommended capacity - upgrade your subscription to the Gold plan for this organ for an additional 11,500 credits per month?” More than my entire weekly UBI salary, got it. Obviously not. Thanks. You've been a huge help. "Of course, bestie." The line crawled, and as over 15 minutes passed Megan watched the remaining space in her bladder, expressed as a battery-like bar at the bottom right corner of her vision, decrease steadily. This had escalated to full-scale desperation, and quickly. The organ upgrades she'd gotten were a hell of a lot better than the old days - at 3 liters capacity it was super rare she, or anyone, ever got caught short anymore. But now she could hardly stand still, crossing and recrossing her legs furiously, doing her best not to hold her crotch in front of the huge crowd of women. "Warning: Urinary bladder approaching capacity limit. 2.1% capacity remaining. Current retained volume, 2,937 milliliters. Estimated time to maximum fullness, 3 minutes." Make it stop! Am I allowed to like, shut down my kidneys for like 5 minutes or like lock my bladder or something? She asked the AI frantically, only half-joking. "Hm…I certainly could, given my law enforcement protocols can terminate any of your major biological or neural systems instantly upon police order. But obviously I don't have one of those orders right now. Do you want me to request a warrant from the NYPD to shut down your vital organs? They are extremely easy to obtain, they seem to love giving them out. However just as a warning, this would carry a high risk of mortality." What? Jesus Christ, you can really do that? No! "Ok, understood. As you were. Maximum fullness in 2 minutes, 30 seconds." I know, I know. God damn it. "Hey Clar?" "Yeah Meg?" "Would you mind… if I went ahead of you?" Meg saw a flash of worry dart across Clara's eyes - or was that excitement? - before she snapped out of it and acquiesced. "Sure, if you really have to go. Just keep it quick! I just got this thing installed, let's check my numbers… Ok yeah I'm at like 80%. You?" "99%!" "Wow ok yeah. Go ahead!" "Thanks, Clar." She gave her friend's hand another squeeze in gratitude as she moved nervously in front of her friend, now mercifully at the front of the line. Another 2 minutes passed, and Megan was seriously worried about reaching her limit, doing everything she could to execute a full-on pee dance as subtly as possible. Finally, with moments to spare, the woman in the stall in front of her exited, the door automatically closing behind her. Rushing to the door, she ripped open the top button of her jeans with one hand and yanked the handle with the other. Finally! But to her horror, the door didn't budge. She yanked again, harder. Nothing. What?? Open! An AR screen sparked into existence on the front of the stall door- a boxy error warning. A salesy male voice piped into her ears, reading aloud the huge block letters now superimposed on the front of the stall: "Welcome to Yankee Stadium! This restroom is for Yankee Flow+ Premium Subscribers only. To enter, please upgrade your subscription to Yankee Flow+ Premium, or visit the free-to-use facilities on the basement floor." Jesus fucking christ. Fine. Upgrade! Hopping back and forth and grinding her thighs together with as much composure as she could muster, Megan watched the clunky user interface process her credit card information, run a background credit score check, and intake her biometric profile info. Behind her, another woman, openly holding herself, called out in frustration - "Could you hurry up!? Some of us really have to go!" "I'm trying!!" Hurry the fuck up, she implored the AI systems. "Payment accepted. Thank you for joining Yankees Flow+ Premium." To her immense relief, the door opened. At the mere sight of the toilet, her body released a huge spurt of pee into her underwear that flooded her crotch with warmth - the bladder meter inched upward the tiniest amount. Less than 1% remaining capacity. Thank god, she was going to make it just in time! Rushing into the stall and slamming the door shut, she pulled down her jeans and panties to just above her knees, now in the floor-to-ceiling stall free to pee dance frantically. Desperate, half naked, and ready to pee, Megan yanked on the closed lid. It was locked closed! Over the toilet, a new screen appeared: "Thanks for being a Yankees Flow+ Premium Subscriber. Before using the facilities, a quick word from our sponsors!" To Megan's absolute astonishment, she watched 3 pre-roll ads appear on the screen in front of her, 30 seconds each. Aileen popped up, superimposed as if standing on the toilet paper dispenser: "Hey Megan, another warning: Maximum capacity has been reached. Your bladder will automatically void in 10 seconds." Override! She gritted her teeth. "Ok, but just as a warning you don't get an unlimited number of those. Override accepted. Voiding in 90 seconds." Megan found herself in an incredible state: her jeans and underwear pulled over her butt and halfway down her thighs, gripping her neatly shaved pussy tightly with two hands, bending and stepping and dancing in place in front of the locked toilet as the ads crept by. The crawling medical ads were a horrible blur, interminable. She could barely see straight through the intensity of her desperation. Aileen chimed incessantly: "Maximum bladder capacity exceeded. Current retained volume 102% of established maximum capacity. New maximum retained volume reached. Maximum available volume metric will be updated: 3,060 ml. This will represent 100% available retained volume moving forward." Wait, wait, wait. Aileen, are you saying this is literally the most I've ever held before in my entire life? She winced as another wave hit her, the flood just beneath her fingertips. Two ads down, one to go. "Correct, this is the most you have ever held. Would you like to view your historical lifetime urination records?" No. Please. I will piss myself if you show me that. Do not show me stats or videos of me peeing. Please do not do that. "Yes? Ok! Pulling up the statistics and ocular footage." Her eyesight suddenly filled with a mosaic of twenty or more videos, ocular memory recordings filmed through her own eyes, of all the most desperate moments of her adult life, each with accompanying bladder gauges and stats. In each one she gripped her crotch for dear life, glanced around frantically for a place to pee, or watched between her legs as huge desperate streams of pee surged out her body into various toilets, forests, parking lots, alleyways, containers, pants, dresses, swimsuits, and underwear. In real life she hopped in place miserably, her fingers wet, now barely able to see if the still-running ads in front of her were even done yet to let her finally pee. Make it stop… "Glad you're enjoying your footage! Here are your historical statistics. Before today, the furthest past your limit you've ever gone - your largest retained volume expressed as a percentage of total available capacity- was from before your biometric enhancements, in February 2079 when you reached 117% of your natural bladder capacity and urinated 1,634ml into a storm drain off Bourbon Street in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. You have no active memory of this due to alcohol consumption, but here's the ocular footage at the top right of your screen. Before that, your largest one-time voided volume was 1,462ml during your 2077 road trip to Vermont, behind a blue spruce tree off Interstate 89, seen here at top center. This would have been your largest single voided amount of all time had you not lost 13% into your pants in the passenger seat 11 minutes beforehand, shown below. Since your enhancements, your maximum held volume was 2,815ml after the Taylor Swift 50-Year Reunion concert when the Brooklyn-bound L train was seriously delayed underground. As you know, this resulted in another incident of public urination which affected nearly 50 square feet of a Bushwick sidewalk, shown at bottom left, from which your social credit score has yet to recover. Previous to that, in 2071 when your college sexual partner Clara requested that you hold it for as long as you could and urinate on her…" Stop reminding me of all the times I had to pee!! "I'm just answering your questions, Meg." Make the videos go away before I piss myself! The videos snapped out of existence, and to her delight she saw that the ads had just now finished, and the lid was automatically lifting. Thank god! Before the lid was even all the way open, she heaved herself onto the seat, sighing in relief at even the proximity to release. She sat for a moment, eyes closed, relaxed, awaiting the familiar bursting of floodgates and hissing sound. But nothing happened. Her muscles suddenly felt locked, numb, immovable. She pushed, but all that did was spike the pressure in her bladder to unbearable levels. She gasped. Nothing! After all that, the system still wasn't letting her pee! Bouncing her feet on the tiled floor in utmost desperation, she whined in frustration. Aileen, what the FUCK!? "One moment. So sorry bestie. I believe there's been an organ-appliance integration error." Integration error?? Let me fucking pee! "Investigating." Squirming miserably on the seat, Megan couldn't believe her misfortune, watching the spinning loading icon at the forefront of her vision rotate lazily. Two hands buried in her naked crotch, doubled over on the toilet, her long curly hair cascading over her frantically bouncing knees. "Megan, I can confirm now that there is an integration error. Your Pfizer organ system firmware is not compatible with this appliance. Remember when you told me to skip that mandatory upgrade last week? To use this or any toilet, you'll need to upgrade your firmware via your embedded UpLink device. File size: 6.2TB - estimated installation time 6 hours." What?! No, you just told me I'm literally the most desperate I've been in my entire life, you know I absolutely need to pee right now!! "Upgrade, or cancel session?" Can I pee without upgrading? "No alternative options are currently available." No, no, no, you have to help! "Your maximum allotted time using this appliance has been exceeded. Session canceled." A new screen appeared on the inside of the stall door. "Thank you for using Yankee Flow+ Premium. Please exit and follow the lighted signs. Door opening in 5. 4. 3. 2.." "Shit!" She yelped out loud, just barely yanking up her pants over her bulging bladder before the door popped open. Clara waited just outside, her face turning to bewilderment upon seeing Megan's devastated state. "Meg, are you ok?" "No. I'm not ok. We need to go. Now." "Can you wait? I really, really have to pee…" "Clara. No. we need to go. Right now." She yanked her friend by the hand, pulling her out of line. Clara whined in protest, stealing a quick grab at her crotch. Sensors in Megan's vision now blared constantly, the maximum retained volume reaching adjusting itself a new historic maximum every few seconds. "Current retained volume 125% of historic maximum. New 100% set. Bladder capacity past maximum. Voiding in 10 seconds. " Override. Override. Override!! "Override accepted. 2 remaining overrides today." Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Meg, what happened in there?" Clara asked. "The Pfizer integration didn't work. It didn't let me pee. I feel like I'm going to explode." Megan could barely look at her friend as she pulled her by the hand down the crowded ramps and stairs of the stadium, sweating, jeans still unbuttoned under her baggy Yankees jersey, tight around her enormously bulging bladder. The labyrinth of massive hallways and staircases was jam packed with humanity, and exodus to the bottom floor took them another agonizing 15 minutes. Sweat stood out on Megan's forehead. Clara was now visibly desperate too, and Meg was down to her last override. Finally, the ground floor. Megan saw her last hope extinguished: they passed the line for the free bathrooms where there must have been a hundred women in various states of urgency. Absolutely not an option. They rushed past toward the exit. Megan’s metrics spiraled upward faster than ever before, climbing past 136% as they hustled past the door of the bathroom. "Megan, you are nearly exceeding medically advisable limits for your bladder." Shut the fuck up Aileen! Clara tried to be helpful. "Can you update your firmware to get more capacity? I had to do that once in an emergency." They reached the chaotic parking lot, a coral reef of swarming ads and holograms from bootleg vendors. "Aileen says the upgrade would take 6 hours. I think I would physically explode before that. We have to get out of here." Clara now had one hand glued into her crotch - the beers must be really catching up to her too, Megan thought. "Can we maybe find a place to pee in an alley or behind the stadium or something? My meter is at like 5% remaining," Clara whined. "No fucking way - the law enforcement override would lock our bladders if we tried to pop a squat in public, or worse, call the drone cops on us." Right, Aileen? "Correct - penalties for public urination can exceed 50,000 credits in New York City, or a night in state confinement." Megan pulled up the rideshare app on her phone and called a self-driving vehicle, which appeared 3 torturous minutes later. Another enormous spurt exited her body involuntarily. "How far is your apartment?" Clara asked. "Maybe like 15 minutes." "But I'm at 98%, I can't hold it!" Clara exclaimed. "Clara, trust me. I'm holding on as hard as I can, manually. If I had let my software do what it wanted I would have wet myself 35 minutes ago. I'm literally at 145% right now. We just have to try." Clara went silent at the unfathomably high statistic, and her eyes went wide as they flitted down to see her friend's distended abdomen. All of Megan's sirens were blaring at her as the pair heaped into the driverless spherical pod, barely wide enough for both their hips. Aileen's omnipresent voice popped into Megan's churning consciousness yet again. "Your maximum allowable capacity increase has been reached. Pfizer warranty-mandated non-overridable voiding will begin in 90 seconds. Failure to comply with mandatory voiding could result in negative impacts to your social credit score and health insurance." NO! We'll be home in 15 minutes! I have one more override, please let me use it, please!! "Megan, I am not authorized to do that. Maximum capacity exceeded. 150% capacity. Volume retained 4,500ml. Override denied. Voiding in 20 seconds." Aileen, I *need* you to override this. You can't let this happen! "Megan, you've exceeded the medically allowable limits for your system and risk voiding the warranty on your installed hardware. Override denied." Fuck! The car doors closed behind them, instantly silencing the chaotic noise of the stadium, and they found themselves cramped into the all-white synthetic and glass interior of the tiny steering-wheel-free pod, which whirred to life and began lurching them into traffic. The front windshield, a single panel of glass, lit up with a barrage of AR ads. "Clara, I have some bad news. It's not going to let me override anymore." Her bladder was unbearable now, throbbing with every heartbeat, expanded unimaginably past its limits, bulging against her waistband even with her pants widely unbuttoned, the elastic of her underwear digging into her stretched skin. "What do you mean??" Clara was now openly holding herself. "I mean it's saying it's going to make me pee in the next 20 seconds no matter what," Megan admitted miserably, both hands buried into her crotch inside her unzipped jeans. "I'm fighting it as hard as I can right now but it's going to manually override and force me to pee." "Is that allowed in a car? What happens if you do that?" "How should I know! Who's gonna win, Uber or Pfizer? We're about to find out!" The blaring notifications in her vision ticked down toward zero, completely beyond her control. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…" "Clara, I'm sorry…." There was no time left. In a flash, she pulled both her shoes off and barked a command at the pod itself. "Car! Lights down, one-way glass on!" The car's overhead lights darkened, leaving only the glow of the 50+ advertisements across the face of the windshield, and the glass clouded - they could see out, but nobody could see in. Now in relative privacy but for Clara, Megan tore at her pants, pulling them over her hips and butt with one hand, still holding her pussy fiercely with the other so she didn't pee uncontrollably before her pants were out of the way. "4, 3,…" To her right, she saw Clara look away, noticing that she too was now unbuttoning her jeans. But Megan was too distracted to focus on that right now. "Voiding in 2 seconds…." She needed both hands. She ripped down her pants at the expense of giving up her grip on her pussy, losing a huge spurt. "1 second…." One leg now fully out of her jeans and panties, now the other, pussy leaking uncontrollably onto the seat… "Voiding. " With milliseconds to spare she pulled her knees up to her chest and exploded. An absolute flood burst from her, jetting out of her body at unbelievable pressure and splashing powerfully against the glass wall of blinking ads. "Voiding in progress. " She hiked her feet up onto glass wall of the pod and emitted a deep groan of relief, her fully removed jeans in a bunch next to her on the edge of the seat. The pressure inside her was still almost unbearable as she watched the numbers tick down to 145%. She bore down, eyes closed, pissing even harder. To her right, Clara's voice, almost imperceptible under her breath: oh, my god. Opening her eyes to look over Megan was met with a shocking sight: Clara's bare ass and pussy, gushing piss onto the floor, at eye level with her no more than two feet away. Clara had taken her pants completely off and was crouching under the low ceiling in an awkward half-standing squat, turned away from Megan with one knee on the seat and the other foot on the floor. Megan couldn't help staring between her friend's legs, mesmerized. Light from the video wall glowed between Clara's parted legs, illuminating her pulsing stream with otherworldly colors. Quivering droplets of piss on her smooth pussy and inner thighs sparkled in dreamlike hues. "You had better not be looking right now." Clara's voice was muffled against the glass. "I'm not!" Megan lied, and blinked twice, bookmarking the optical video-memory for later. It took everything in her to not reach out and touch her. The car whipped along, throngs of fans and cars outside oblivious to the incredible scene unfolding within. Nearly a minute passed by, but Megan had barely dropped to 115%. Despite her thundering piss, Megan's bladder still felt fuller than ever before - and her interface confirmed that indeed it still was. Clara's bladder gently emptied to a trickle, and she gingerly climbed back into the seat and sat exhausted, not even bothering to replace her pants yet. "Oh, my, god…." Clara exhaled. "I feel so much better. You were at 145%!?" Clara hesitated for a second, then rested her hand on Megan's thigh. "I can't even imagine how you must feel right now." Megan looked over at her friend, and placed her hand over hers, feeling their combined warmth on her bare skin. Still hugging her knees to her chest and pissing with unfathomable force, and said, "Want to know something wild?" "What?" "I still have to piss *so fucking badly* right now." Clara couldn't help but release a laugh - absurd, shocking, impossible. Megan laughed too, sending her incredible stream shaking chaotically against the glass. It was true - the screen confirmed she still held more than 3,000ml inside her. But the insane pressure was starting to ease, and a huge, pleasurable feeling of relief was starting to well up from deep within her. "You're not kidding - look at your bladder still!" Before she could think, Megan pulled Clara's hand over from her thigh to her still-bulging bladder, allowed her to feel the tautness of her skin, its pressure as it slowly relaxed with each rising and falling breath. "Wow…" "If I remember from college, you, uh… don't really mind watching this, do you?" Clara dropped her gaze, blushing. "I mean, it's. You know." "Clara. It's ok. I… I like when you look. You know I was watching you too just now, right?" "Yeah," she smiled. "Yeah, I know." Two minutes passed - not a word spoken between them in the hermetically sealed silence of the pod, only the deafening hiss and percussion of Megan's never ending stream against the glass and her deepening sighs. Aileen chimed in again: "Safe limits reached. Retained volume 99%. Recommended option to cease urination until you reach a legally sanctioned receptacle." Fuck off, Aileen. Instead of stopping, Megan bore down on her stream anew, sending it even higher onto the wall, her piss cascading over the faces and logos of the incessant advertisements. The backs of her thighs and calves were soaked with ricochet. The car finally realized what was happening, and Aileen delivered the news. "Public urination detected. 10,000 social credits will be deducted for each of you. Your Uber memberships will be permanently canceled. Pfizer organ misuse penalties may apply…' Megan was past caring, still peeing for all she was worth, waves of blissful relief now radiating from her bladder and pussy and coursing throughout her entire body. Looking back at Clara, she caught her friend staring. "Hey. Now you're the one looking." "I just…can't believe how much you're still peeing." Clara's hand rubbed gently. Megan caught her eyes, held them. Tenderly grasping Clara's hand, she moved it just a bit further down, just above the roaring stream to where it was soft and wet and warm. "Remember how we used to…..?" Clara knew what to do. Feeling her touch, Megan moaned and her head lolled back toward the glass ceiling, eyes closed, LED glow flickering across her face, the torrent ceaseless, the relief and pleasure mounting toward overwhelming peaks. Hey Aileen? Megan thought between heaving breaths. "Yes, Megan." Shut down for 15 minutes. *_*_*_**_*_ Epilogue: 99.1%. 99.2%. 99.3% 5:13am, next morning. Megan watched the slowly climbing numbers in her vision. Why on earth would they make it so you can't pee during the bladder upgrade?? After the evening's events, Megan was determined for that to never happen again. Back in her own bathroom, her piss-soaked jeans strewn on the floor, relaxing in a searing-hot shower, she'd issued the verbal command to begin the massively expensive upgrade. 6 hours should be no problem while she slept, right? But she'd underestimated the lingering diuretic effects of the night's heavy drinking, and had been woken up by her second brutally full bladder of the night. Now naked in her bed, her sheets were strewn messily about from an hour's worth of tossing and turning as she struggled to find a comfortable position. 99.9%... Almost there. She stood up, groaning with the redoubled pressure from gravity, and hobbled across her bedroom to the bathroom, rubbing her swollen abdomen. "Upgrade complete." Finally. She sat…. She took a deep breath…. now in the safety of her own bathroom, she was going to savor this one. God, this is going to feel good. She began to breathe out, but her breath caught in her throat. No. Fucking. Way. "Hey bestie?…." WHAT. "So, the NYC behavioral regulatory body has ruled that given last night's public urination episode your bathroom access will be restricted. You are not able to use this or any appliance until their behavioral restriction has been lifted." What????! "Bathroom access will be re-instated at 12am midnight EST tonight. Current retained volume: 99%."
  5. Hey guys and gals. This one has been stewing a while, but I just now got something typed down. Hope y’all have good days ahead of you! Chapter 1: introduction Lola was a golden retriever. She had some Labrador in her that made her especially cute and curvaceous, but also quite tall. Her daytime job was at the Marindale Fitness Club. On Monday through Friday, her duties varied as needed. On Saturday, however, she had one special job. Being a canine, she could smell very well, and being beautiful, she could confront very well. The Marindale was open to members’ children on Saturdays, but with one strict rule: no urinating in the pool. Adults of course weren’t allowed to urinate either, but if hypochlorous acid showed up on the weekdays, adults were easier to monitor patterns with, and slightly less likely to break the rule. Thus, it was Lola’s special job on Saturdays to be in the pool at all times, and watch for the smell. If she noticed it, she tracked it down to the source. Usually, if the child confessed, she escorted them out quietly and they could get back in next Saturday, or sometimes after a time penalty if they were of younger ages. But Lola did have a soft place. If even the oldest child said at any time, “I know it’s bad, I just really like peeing in the pool: It feels so good,” Lola almost always considered reducing the penalty. She’d give them an extra long talk on why not to pee, however. But the mercy given to, or rather sympathy with the outspoken was undeniable. This was not so much because Lola liked peeing in the pool, but rather because she could almost pee the entire pool into existence. Her body could bend the laws of thermodynamics in a much more extreme way, and more queer way, than any flying saucer toy could ever dream. She could wee for over an hour without too much difficulty in holding it, which took the better part of a day. She’d gradually come to realize how rare and bizzare this characteristic seemed to others, which was somewhat disappointing. It felt more disappointing to her than almost anything to have to stop midway while emptying her monstrous bladder, but it was often something she had to do. Thus, being held back from a blissful piss was, however much a part of reality, an inconvenience she greatly sympathized with whenever it came up. Having to hold one’s pee when there was literally water all around one was nearly as disappointing to a little kid in her opinion. Also, nobody could deny that being in warm water was more comfortable than cold. … “But, there are the rules, and the acid hurt people’s eyes. Plus, lots of people don’t want to swim in somebody else’s pee, you know.” “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” the little otter said mournfully. “Good. Are you going to use the rest room next time?” “Yes.” “Then after ten minutes, you can get back in the pool again.” “Okay,” the otter accepted, and Lola gave her a reassuring hug. After all, a change of heart was the goal. Lola brought the little girl to a place to wait, and set her swimmer’s watch for 10 minutes. As she returned to duty, however, her own bladder tickled her noticeably for a few minutes. That mention of peeing feeling so good… Thankfully, she suppressed the urge, and was able to finish shift.
  6. Just wanted a place to accumulate videos or animations of characters pissing impossibly large amounts, as I have found only a relative few. If you have more, please do add them! e621 is a furry site. 2D animation of boy wetting at home (silent): https://e621.net/posts/3046758 3D animation of buxom elves peeing on/in bathtub (two in tub peeing on each other): https://e621.net/posts/2041906 3D animation of SCP-1471 invading a house as Santa, assumably drinking tainted milk, and then peeing in a present box (silent): https://e621.net/posts/3778071 3D animation loop of girl peeing in dresser drawer endlessly (silent): https://e621.net/posts/3526793 3D animation of Toriel (nude) exploring a cavern, and apparently it magically affects her into needing to pee incessantly (which also gradually makes her more and more horny): https://e621.net/posts/4074861 Some less erotic, more joke posts from YouTube:
  7. So I'm not sure if things need to be shared here ON TOP of generally sharing in the gallery as I do, but I really wanted to show off a picset I made today of my vtuber/oc Breezy~ I don't usually do wetting, so this was fun~
  8. Guest

    Breezy BARELY made it in time~

    From the album: Omonomiyaki's OC illustrations

    The poor Vtuber was forced to do a marathon livestream with no cooldown on the hydrate command. 7 hours later...
  9. Hi! I'm back again with another post. I've debated whether to do this for a while now. This is a finalized version of my story, Moon Showers. To keep things short, it reintroduces my erection-killing humour that was cut from the previous version. If dumb jokes are not your thing, feel free to skip this. This version also includes some small improvements to the story. Use ctrl-F or "find in page" (for mobile) to skip to either part 1 or 2. "Part 1: A Warm Place" is worldbuilding. The real lewd stuff begins at part 2. Search for "Part 2: Moon Showers" Content warning: Nudity, hyper pissing, off-key humour Moon Showers is a written omorashi doujin inspired by a dream I had of a certain person who I will only refer to as Rachel (not her real name obviously). The building it takes place in is the NTUC headquarters at Marina Bay in Singapore. In reality, the clear view of the bay here is not seen from any building but rather a waterfront path. In this doujin, however, the NTUC building is positioned such that the view from the building is an unobstructed central view of Marina Bay from an unspecified hypothetical vantage point. All of this will be visually clarified through pictures in part 2. This it the Rachel Juice version. It is a (hopefully) final remaster of Moon Showers. The first version was just the base story, as-is. The second version, the omo edition, was the one made to be posted on the omorashi org forums. It removed all identifying information, cleaned up the grammar and chopped away off-key humour. The third version, the Moonshine Edition, was meant to be the definitive version. It included cleanups to the grammar and prose, reintroduced the humour, and included ALL identifying details. This is the fourth version, the Rachel Juice version. The title is a reference to Neuro Juice, as seen in fanart of the AI Vtuber Neuro-Sama drawn by Pixiv artist Rune. As a remaster of the Moonshine Edition it has the best of all worlds. It includes none of the identifying details from the previous versions, and all the erection-killing humour that you all know and hate. It is a version that I can share freely. To provide some context, this story started as a relatively innocent dream consisting of the events of A Warm Place. Following this, the dream cut to me and Rachel returning to the shelter. Sadly, the original dream only went up to the point where she spread her pussy lips in the bathroom and nothing more. When I woke up I mentioned the dream to my friend, who prompted me to tell them more. I did, and while they enjoyed it, I felt like I was left wanting. It was so close to being something that I could have enjoyed, but it went limp just like that. Just like a horny girl with a full bladder, I didn't want to let it go, but paradoxically the solution in the end was to let it all flow. I typed out the version of the dream that I wished happened in the form of Discord messages. That was version 0.5, where it all started. Months later, here we are with what I hope is the best version yet. Part 1: A Warm Place Sauce: My own photographs, shot on a Samsung A52s 5G (this phone sucks lmao) Author's foreword: This is the first part of a two part omorashi story. It is a worldbuilding prequel that describes the location the main piece takes place in. This story takes place in the garden city of Singapore, specifically at Marina Bay near the Merlion Park. I have been an amateur writer for a long time but this is my first omorashi story, even if this is the final version. Please tell me what you think, whether you enjoyed it and how I can improve. Buckle up and start chugging water, iced tea or better still... a one-liter mega cup of iced Milo. As one of the oldest insurance companies in Singapore, Lion City Insurance (LCI) has been a constant companion to the city of lions since 1969. LCI believes dignity and comfort are the right of all human beings. To demonstrate our conviction to this belief we are unveiling a state of the art pilot shelter for the destitute and financially vulnerable in the lower levels of our local headquarters. This shelter will include a canteen, a coworking room for both office workers and students, and comfortable private quarters for each resident. More importantly, the shelter will boast clean and modern bathrooms with warm showers. This shelter will set a precedent and send a message to other major corporations and entities that the time to give back is now. Whether through similar shelters or other smaller means, LCI hopes to be the first spark in a movement. I'll be honest. I have a burning hatred for large entities with vast sums of money. Entities such as LCI claim to believe in helping the common worker, yet any amount of further digging will quickly unearth that this is horseshit. Poorly disguised horseshit, at that. Ever looked at the fine print and conditions of your LCI insurance policy? For a company that claims to be a safety net in your time of need, they sure do pay out very little and only in very specific circumstances. Of course, this isn't news. Why should people overfull with money have any reason to give a fuck about the poor? All that the rich need to do is squirt some cash at the masses every now and then to pretend that they're helping. This is why I wasn't even fazed when LCI announced their new state of the art pilot shelter for the disadvantaged and the destitute. I blew it off as more corporate virtue signalling that would probably be a trainwreck of incompetence. The first time I visited this shelter, I was cycling through Marina Bay when I saw a middle aged man having mechanical issues with his bicycle. I stopped to help him. It was a quick fix, but we started a conversation. Jeremy. This man's name is Jeremy. He tells told me how thankful he is that I fixed his bicycle. It isn't much, but it is his prized possession. He uses it to get around and exercise. It is his main defence against his borderline obesity and rising cholesterol levels. He offers to treat me with dinner. This surprises me, but as it turns out Jeremy isn't poor. In fact, he makes a decent wage each month and now that I look closely at him, he is wearing nicer clothes than me. I am reminded once more of the harsh reality of Singapore's housing situation. Here is a relatively well-off man who, despite his healthy finances, cannot afford or find an apartment. We talk at length over a restaurant dinner about the experience of living destitute in Singapore. With a jaded tone, he tells me that his nuclear family is in disarray. After having a severe fallout with them, he no longer has a roof over his head. His extended family refuse to take him in, and he is still on the waiting list for an apartment whose monthly installment payments will leave him with little to no savings. He then offers to show me where he lives which, to my surprise, is the LCI shelter. Me and Jeremy walk up to a large but rather unassuming door. Jeremy presses his thumb to the biometric sensor. It unlocks for his thumbprint, the automatic door sliding open. Stepping inside, I am blown away by how spacious and cozy the place is. The floor is laminated wood. Everything is hazel, light brown, beige and several other in-between shades. The lights are a dim and warm orange. Jeremy parks his bicycle at the bicycle rack next to the door. He does not use his bicycle lock. Jeremy offers to show me around the place, but tells me to be quiet. I leave my socks on, tiptoeing around gingerly to minimize noise. The shelter is laid out in a linear but winding fashion, with a path connecting all of the rooms in sequence. The first room is a small coworking room. It is slightly elevated and protrudes out from the building. It is equipped with comfortable chairs and large tables, complete with socket strips. Jeremy tells me that the residents can choose to turn on warm ambient lights when studying at night, and usually have the courtesy to turn them off when the room is unoccupied. However, the people working tonight have chosen to leave the lights off. This puts the room in pitch black, and allows moonlight to enter through massive bay windows which take up the entirety of 3 protruding panels of the room. The windows provide a spectacular view of Marina Bay. There are a few people still up working together. Sauce: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2016-04-05_Marina_Bay_Sands_at_night_01.jpg Like the rest of the shelter all the chairs, tables and walls are presumably a soft shade of very light beige, almost white but not quite. In the pitch blackness of the room, I can barely tell. Jeremy tells me that even though it might not seem like much, this coworking room is used by people in the shelter for everything from university projects to small business meetings. Many people depend on this room to keep their careers and studies afloat. To carve themselves a future, and to keep moving with the flow of the world. The next room we enter also has a large window. However, the chairs here are benches instead. There is one food store and one drink store which are open 24/7. Jeremy tells them that while the food here is good, those who are financially stable like him will often visit restaurants to treat themselves. Next, we pass by a series of several doors. Jeremy tells me that each of them is a separate hotel-style bathroom with a toilet and shower. This, he tells me, allows the residents the basic human dignity of privacy. Having lockable doors and a room all to yourself to use is a key comfort that many destitute people rarely get to enjoy, and for this he is grateful. Just like the rest of the shelter, the inside of the toilets is warmly lit. Unlike the coworking room, these warm lights give off enough of a glow to see well in the bathrooms. Despite the fact that this arrangement is highly conducive to masturbation and sex, they are all very clean. Each of these bathrooms even has a bidet and a hotel-style sink counter and mirror. The final series of rooms is a collection of separate quarters, again with lockable doors. Each of the shelter's residents gets a small private quarters with a single bed, a chair and desk with wall sockets, a chest of drawers, and a window with blinds. Jeremy shows me his quarters. Their sliding wooden door allows for privacy, and a light switch allows him to sleep in complete darkness. This would not be possible in a dormitory, which still requires some light to enter the room at all times so that people can see. With that, Jeremy yawns and says that he is going to wind down for the day. He tells me that I can come and visit him around the same time whenever, because this is when he does a short ride around the city with his sparse free time in order to stay healthy. As I walk out of the shelter, a strange reality begins to sink in. This place is actually pleasant to live in. Even though its capacity is currently very small due to it being a pilot project, it is undeniable that the people who proposed the project actually cared about what they were doing... which was a strange thing to say about executives from a large corporate entity. Maybe absolute wealth doesn't corrupt absolutely. Maybe... maybe I'm wrong. Nah, that can't be. I'm never wrong. Part 2: Moon Showers Author's foreword: There are three climaxes to this story, one for each time the girl pees, with no relation to when she cums. The second is much more intense than the first, so hold out for that if you can. The third is a bonus for the afterglow. A couple of weeks ago, I went to my second anime convention ever with my friend. He told me that he was going to this convention specifically so that he could see this one cosplayer he kept calling "mommy Rachel". I didn't quite understand what the fuss was about... until I saw her. Rachel, for lack of a better description, is thick as fuck. She is best described as an "ara ara machine". Despite being 27, she looks much younger than 25. Honestly, the first thing I noticed about her was her massive tits, and that's the way it stayed for a while. Whenever I thought of her, I thought of her tits. Rachel was tits. Of course, it's not just tits that Rachel has to offer. She is thick all over, with massive thighs joined to a huge but round ass with a noticeable pelvic line. You can imagine my surprise when she sent me a few DMs on Instagram. We started chatting, getting close over time. I became a staple on her Twitch streams, becoming her number one fan. One day, she invited me out for dinner at Marina Bay. Rachel turns up wearing a long, heavy coat that goes all the way down to her feet. I find this odd, but I don't comment on it. Throughout the night, I am constantly aware of the fact that Rachel can't seem to ever get enough fluids. She drinks bottle after bottle of mineral water, including several cups of iced tea. I ask her if she is feeling alright, but she says she is fine. I suggest that she should slow down, but she refuses. I can tell something is on her mind, so I suggest that we take a walk along the Bay to get some fresh air. Our walk takes us up to the Merlion. Even in the middle of a pandemic and in the dead of night, Singapore's iconic lion-mermaid statue is still spewing a constant and noisy stream of water. I take a moment to appreciate the soothing sound of the raging stream of water being dumped into the Bay, and it is now that I notice a look of palpable distress on Rachel's face. The sound seems to be troubling her, causing her to look almost panicked. As we walk back southbound towards The Fullerton Bay Hotel she begins fidgeting, then bouncing. Just a few hundred meters in, she is already crossing and uncrossing her legs. I ask her point blank what is wrong, and she tells me that she has to pee. I panic. The nearest toilets that I know the location of for sure are the ones at the Merlion and the one in the (pretentiously named) Shoppes at Marina Bay. I know for a fact that the staff at the hotel won't let us in, even if it's an emergency. Both the Merlion and the Shoppes are much too far from our location, and I know that Rachel will not make it. As I am thinking, a wave of pain hits Rachel's bladder. A pained expression flashes across her face, and I know that we do not have much time. There is a boardwalk that hovers over the water between us and the Fullerton Bay Hotel. I briefly consider if it would be illegal for her stand at the railing there and urinate directly into the Bay. The answer is clearly yes. What if she relieved herself into one of the nearby planters? Surely that would be less illegal. Still, it is not an ideal solution. Right on cue, I notice a guy riding on a very familiar bicycle. It's Jeremy, a friend of mine who lives in a fancy homeless shelter in the nearby LCI building. I yell to him, and he comes to a stop. I explain that I have a bit of a situation. The girl I'm with-- no Jeremy, she's not my girlfriend, but I wish she was-- really needs to use the bathroom. My man Jeremy comes in clutch and takes us hurriedly to the shelter. Even while we brisk walk, Rachel is already stripping off her long coat. She slides it off, revealing her naked shoulders. She then discards the coat onto a nearby bench, and I make no comment. Rachel's skin is light, smooth and flawless. Next to be exposed are her D-cup breasts, which jiggle like an earthquake with each step. The phrase "Marin "Earthquake" Kitagawa" appears briefly in my mind. I also notice that Rachel isn't wearing a bra. Instead, her top is held up by two bands attached to her upper arms. Around her neck there is a thick black choker with a metal heart outline dangling from it. Actually, what kind of a top is this? It reveals everything, and the part cupping her breasts is bordered by a frilly white. The rest of the top is pitch black. As the coat falls off entirely, I can now see that Rachel is wearing what looks to be a bunny girl suit. The bottom of the one piece suit arcs aggressively, exposing the line where her torso meets her thigh. A large amount of skin is visible, and the exposed area encroaches on her belly. Her entire pubic area is visible, and there is just enough fabric to cover her pussy but nothing more. Perched on her large butt is a small cotton tail, like that of a rabbit. I note curiously that Rachel is chubby, but to just the right amount. Just as I expected, she is thick all over. Everything from her face to her breasts, her thighs to her butt is ample and full. Despite this, her skin is flawless. There are no creases or folds, all of her is smooth, and every edge of every curve is well defined. After removing the coat, Rachel lets out a strangely adorable squeaking noise before jamming her hands against her pussy. After Jeremy unlocks the door to the shelter, he tells us to hurry ahead. Rachel does not hesitate, stomping loudly into the shelter with no care for anyone who might still be awake and working. Once we are out of sight of Jeremy, Rachel asks for her bag while doing a pee dance. She removes a gray haired wig and a set of bunny ears, putting them on. She also puts on a set of black fingerless leather gloves. Is she...putting on a cosplay? At a time like this? Something is off. Throughout the tedious process of putting everything on, I can hear her breathing becoming more and more ragged with each passing minute. it is tortured, but also oddly... pleasured? A manic edge grows in her breathing, and I think I can hear her shudder a little. Somehow, for some reason I cannot explain, she is enjoying this. As she finishes wearing the outfit, I can see that she is dressed as a bunny girl version of Sakamata Chloe, a Vtuber. Sauce: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/106453149 Rachel jams her hand against her pussy once more, this time even harder. A wild look flashes across her face, and she begins rubbing herself. She hobbles with her hands between her legs over to the first toilet, sliding the door open violently. I struggle to close it behind us and lock it. I expect that she would head for the bowl immediately, but she doesn't. The shower, then? That would be fun. Nope. Once she sees that the door is closed, Rachel hoists herself up onto the large, cold marble countertop. She then plops her entire body down unceremoniously, sending a shockwave that travels up her butt and through her massive tits, coming in at 6.9 on the Rachel Scale. As she sits down, I notice that her bunny suit lacks an in-built corset, and it begins to crease at the belly. As I watch, fat rolls form, making her somehow more and not less attractive. Her large butt flattens against the hard surface, and she hangs her legs over the edge facing me. The part of her thighs hanging over the edge begin to droop from gravity. I find this fucking hot. Once again, she begins stroking her pussy through the fabric of the suit, pausing only to ask me in a slightly crazed tone "wanna see?" I manage to snap myself out of my trance long enough to stutter out "h- hai!". The fact that I replied in Japanese proves that the part of me which craves JAV and hentai has awoken, and I know this will not end well. Rachel spreads her legs, and pulls my head in close to her crotch. Her scent is overpowering. Some of it is her sweet perfume. But part of it is just... her. A deeply intoxicating scent emanates from her crotch. With a gloved hand, she pulls the fabric of her bunny suit aside to expose her pussy. To my surprise, there are no beef curtains. Instead, Rachel has a large but near perfect innie pussy. It looks like a perfect bunny cunny, plump and completely bare. Somehow, there is not even a single hair or visible pore on the entirety of her groin. Her naked pussy lips are pale and perfectly untained. Rachel takes her hand off me to spread her pussy lips open. Pink. I see a perfect sea of bright pink. Bright pink that is smooth and interrupted only by some small bumps and two holes. As I look deep inside Rachel, I don't notice her biting her lip. What I do notice is a loud hissing noise and a jet of clear liquid hitting my face from the top smaller hole. It is warm and smells intoxicatingly sweet and absurdly pleasant. It tastes salty. Rachel, with her fingers still spreading her lips, thrusts her hips outward slightly. The next jet of urine flies low, landing on my chest. As it soaks into my clothes and dribbles down slowly it causes a warm, fuzzy and very wet feeling. For some strange reason, I feel like I've just been given a warm hug, only a million times better. So large was the jet that as it soaks into my clothes. It begins to cover my entire body, leaving not a single cold spot. I feel like I'm a hot tub. No, a hot tub isn't quite right. I feel like I'm in a hot tub filled entirely with Rachel's pee, and it is the most subarashii- no, the most kimochi thing I have ever experienced. I'm busy enjoying my wonderful gift when Rachel lets out a hentai sound effect that is halfway between a moan and a squeak. Again, Rachel thrusts her hips forwards, this time more violently. The hiss is back once more, and a long jet of urine hits my face directly. It's still hot from her body heat, almost painfully so. My whole face is now drenched, and the pleasant scent of her urine now overwhelms my senses entirely. It's in every pore of my face, dripping down onto my neck and body. Rachel's juice is covering everything in a salty yet sweet layer. Once last time, Rachel moans and thrusts. A long jet of piss sprays high up, missing me but hitting everything else. It's on the shower curtain, the shower head, the walls, and some of it is now dripping from the ceiling. I can hear it, and feel it falling down like indoor rain. Pitter patter. After letting out those intermittent jets of urine, Rachel closes her legs and clamps her hands over her peehole. This seems to send a wave of pain through her, and when she opens up her legs again I can see that her entire pussy is swollen, and the area around it is also a shade of red. Rachel grabs my hand and forces me to stroke her as ecstasy flashes across her face. Faster and faster she moves my hand until I take over, leaving her hands free to pull her top down. She grabs at her own breasts, massaging them. I can see that she is rapidly losing her mind. She then asks to switch. With trembling hands, she puts my hands on her breasts and I start to massage them while she strokes her pussy. Still, I can tell that Rachel needs more force to finish. She tries to rub my leg against her crotch, but the counter is in the way. A few awkward seconds go by as we try to find a way for her to perform tribadism against my leg, but the bulky marble slab counter isn't helping things at all. Frustrated, Rachel hops off the counter, taking off the main swimsuit-shaped portion of the bunny suit and tossing it in the shower. With her still wet hands, she unlocks the toilet door and slides it open. I try to stop her, but to my horror she grabs my hand and drags me out, stomping loudly through the shelter. I am painfully aware that her bare ass and naked pussy are exposed to the cold night air and anyone lucky enough to walk by. Thankfully by this time the people working at the coworking room have gone to sleep, leaving the room in pitch blackness. Rachel drags me all the way up to the bay windows. I now notice that there is a long couch there, giving the perfect view of the full moon over the Bay. The moon is bright tonight, and it bathes the room in an ethereal silver light. Sauce: https://www.reddit.com/r/singapore/comments/hl4t3m/full_moon_rising_over_mbs/ Rachel shoves me unceremoniously down onto the couch into a sitting position. She then climbs onto me, throwing her arms around my neck. Kicking off her shoes she begins tribbing, rubbing her pussy lips against my thigh and torso. Soft and squishy. All I feel is a heavenly mass of soft and squishy. Her bulbous butt wraps itself around my thigh, a sensation I can only describe as divine. Better still is her squishy pussy, which she begins thrusting against me over and over. Tighter and tighter she grips my back, now shoving her crotch onto my belly with each thrust. I hold on to her too, thrusting to her rhythm, locked into her embrace. Her friction. Her fuwa-fuwa. Rachel's warm breath comes out in gasps and soft moans that hit my neck, and the scent of her real hair under the gray wig seems to grow stronger over time. I close my eyes to savour the moment, allowing wave after wave of pleasure and satisfaction to wash over me. I let my head go loose with pleasure. When I open my eyes with my head pointed away from Rachel, I find that my gaze has come to rest on what was in my blindspot a few seconds ago. A CCTV camera. Sure enough, as I focus harder on it, there is a tiny light indicating where the lens is facing. That light is pointed towards us. "R...Rachel...." I manage to stutter. I ask her if she wants to stop, in view of the fact that we are right under a camera. To my dismay she lets out a manic giggle. Her moans get more and more feral, loud to an almost vulgar degree. What the fuck is this? Does she not care about waking up the residents? No... she enjoys this. She enjoys being watched. Rachel has lost all control. She is now thrusting her entire body frantically against mine, rubbing her somehow still swelling girlhood more and more forcefully. Her pussy lips and inner thighs are now bright red from the friction. I can feel small dribbles of urine leaking from her pussy, and as she thrashes they drip all over my body. Her loud and unrestrained moans mix in with pleasured laughter. She's having an amazing time riding me, and I wonder how this compares to the rollercoasters at Universal Studios. Rachel is saying something. What is she saying? I can barely make it out. Everything coming out of her mouth sounds like a moan at this point. She's going to.... oh no, she's going to cum. I pull her into me with each thrust, and her tribbing becomes longer and harder with each stroke. Faster and faster, more and more. Her body slams against mine, sending waves of her sugarsweet scent against me. Urine, sweat and pheromones mix together into a deadly cocktail. I can feel myself losing sanity. I'm becoming insane, insane, insane. I am brought back to my senses when Rachel lets out a long and drawn out moan. Her pelvis is now thrusting itself. I pull her against my belly, and I can feel her pelvic floor muscles pulsating powerfully and slowly. Everything from her bladder to her vagina rises and falls in perfect rhythm. With her exhausted voice, I can just barely make out Rachel asking me to turn her around to face the window, so I do. She goes soft with the pleasure from orgasm, melting in my arms as I hear the familiar loud hissing of urine rushing out Rachel's peehole. Her dam has burst, and a great surge of pee shoots out from her now rapidly deflating bladder. The firehose stream flies up a couple of meters high, pelting the laminated wooden floor with enough liquid to ensure it is beyond repair. Rachel is pissing like a racehorse now, and her stream keeps getting stronger. It gains distance and hits the bay window, giving anyone still awake at Marina Bay a front row view of a rare Singaporean watersports performance. I'm sure anyone who can see us wishes they were in the splash zone. HHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS The urine hits the window with so much force that much of it is thrown directly back at us, showering us with a gentle drizzle. The urine which clings to the window fans out into a massive vertical puddle with enough violent ripples to render much of the view completely distorted. It flows down in a continuous waterfall directly onto the floor, where the water level keeps rising. It's starting to look like "ponding" in Orchard Road during monsoon season. That's a Singapore government euphemism for it's fucking flooding. The puddle on the floor keeps growing, rapidly and aggressively. The tidal wave of piss keeps on advancing. I'll need a sampan to get out of here and I do not care. I'll find a kayak and a paddle if it comes to that. My arms, wrapped around Rachel's torso, can feel her bladder bulge get smaller and smaller as her breathing gets faster and faster. A wicked idea crosses my mind, and I press down on her bladder. Rachel's stream immediately becomes much stronger, and for a second I'm afraid her walls won't hold. As Rachel slouches backwards into a lying position on me the stream gains height, hitting the ceiling and raining down on the couch from above us. It's raining piss. There's no hope for this shelter now. LCI really did put their all into this place, and they've improved the lives of so many people but it's all over now. We just had to come in and ruin it. Rachel just had to pee EVERYWHERE, and I just had to help her do it. Now that there is urine on virtually every surface of the coworking room, it will be hard for them not to cordon off this biohazard zone permanently. Still, in my selfish mind, I just cannot bring myself to care. The warm indoor rain of Rachel's urine feels too good, and her soft body in my arms is all the comfort I need. In this moment I am complete. I am at peace, because this is all I want from life. Slowly and gradually, Rachel's stream dies down and I notice how heavy she is. My arms are tired, and my legs are completely numb. Maybe she is a lot thicker than I initially realised. Still smiling, she opens her eyes slowly and pulls me into a hug, pressing her piss-soaked body against my dripping wet torso. I stroke her wig, but I feel like something isn't quite right. Gently, I take the bunny ears off Rachel's head, removing the wig and gently pulling the hair net off her scalp. Then, I remove her extended lashes, followed by her gloves. Finally, I take off her stocking and pantyhose. Now I get to see the authentic Rachel. Without all of the frills she looks older. She looks her actual age of 27. Without the lashes her eyes are small and plain. Without the stocking and pantyhose her thighs look a bit more fat than thick. Without the top her breasts are a bit saggy. But I don't care. I still think she's hot, or hell, even hotter. After all, I don't want Chloe, and I don't want a wild bunny girl. I just want Rachel. After all of that insanity, I lead Rachel back into the shower and hose her down rapidly. We don't have much time, and once I see that the coast is clear I drag Rachel into a dash for the front door. I find her coat still sitting on the bench where she left it, and I get her to put it on to cover herself up. As we try to act normal and walk towards Bayfront MRT, I notice a trail of droplets forming on the tiles behind Rachel. Small circles that very distinctly colour the grey tiles black. You've got to be fucking with me. After all that, she's still not done? I tell her to release some of it into a nearby bush, so she pops a squat and does so. Just seconds later, however, I spot someone passing by. I tell Rachel, and she immediately gets up from her squatting position, crossing her legs to stop the flow. We keep moving, but Rachel begins to leak again almost immediately. I ask her if she can hold on for a while longer, but she tells me no. She has to pee, now. I highly doubt that. Before I can stop her, however, Rachel has stripped off her coat once more. She dashes excitedly towards the railing over the water, grinning like she is about to do something very naughty. Still standing, she grabs the railing, pushing her hips forwards. There it is again. That beautiful sound. HIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS A continuous stream of urine flies in a wide arc before splashing noisily into the Bay. On one hand, I wish I was a fish in the water that Rachel is peeing in. On the other hand, I'm in a state of panic wondering what the total fine for indecency, environmental pollution and public urination will be. Still, I manage to bring myself back into the moment and appreciate what is happening in front of me. A painfully hot girl under the light of the full moon, standing with her hips thrust forward, a shimmering unbroken stream of urine flying from her reddened pussy. It is then that I realise that this, to me, is nirvana. It is then that I realise some things are worth the risk of being thrown in jail and bankrupted with fines. Dear Singapore, It is with great disappointment that Lion City Insurance must announce our new shelter has been vandalized. Last night two individuals, one female and one of indeterminate sex who appear to be a couple entered the shelter through the goodwill of one of its residents, who will remain anonymous. CCTV footage shows the female fully nude urinating in the open. Please know that the motive of the culprits is unknown. They are not known to LCI, and they are not residents of the shelter. We have stored the footage of the crime, and are working with the relevant authorities to track them down. A censored version is available for viewing at the end of this statement. LCI does not place any blame on the residents of the shelter, or the resident who let the culprits in. We are aware of the countless stereotypes that our society has formed against the destitute, and would like to remind the public to pass judgement based on facts rather than impulse. To that end, all current evidence shows that the residents are clearly innocent. It bears repeating that this act is morally outrageous and directly damaging to the welfare of the shelter's residents. LCI urges would-be offenders of all kinds to think before they act. To consider the damage that they do to others, in particular the less fortunate. The message of this shelter is a simple one: Sometimes we should take small losses to our personal wellbeing if it results in large gains to the wellbeing of others. Make no mistake-- the offenders here perverted this message, grabbing a small gain to their personal pleasure at the cost of severe damage to the wellbeing of others.
  10. (Hey all, this is a story I've been brainstorming for quite some time. I hope to take this one to a good length and that you'll all enjoy this little personal project! That being said, some details should be given about this story to gauge your interest as a reader. This story contains excessive, unrealistic, and near or plainly impossible bladder holding and body standards often referred to as "hyper". The story is merely an exaggeration of real life, and should be treated as nothing more than a fun story. This story also has rather intense scenes of male and female lust and sex, including full bladder sex. If the idea of sex and sexual themes, beit inside or outside the context of omorashi, make you uncomfortable, this story is probably not for you. Feedback is always appreciated. Ideas for the story and constructive criticism is always appreciated! Without further ado, please enjoy the story! -OrionsBelt) Chapter I: Local Bar, Saturday, 1:48AM Avalynn emptied her third and final drink of the night as she sat at the bar. She could start to feel herself feel the effects of it's alcohol content. The cocktails are by no means weak, but she had a rather strong tolerance built from her college days. She sighed in disappointment. It's been another day without a man to take home to fulfill her primitive needs. She even got all dressed up for it. She was by all means an attractive woman: she was on the short side, but her chest, rump, thighs, and hips were plump enough to show off, which she did with a black mini-skirt and a low cut blouse to accentuate her busty cleavage. She even went the extra mile to wear a pretty skimpy thong to please anybody lucky enough to get a peek. She twirled her brown wavy bangs, and looked around the room one last time. It was late on a Friday night, it seemed everyone in the bar was minding their own business, partying and celebrating the end of the week and the start of the weekend. No one seemed interested in hooking up, despite a few looks of speculation at her eye candy. Closing time was soon, the bar was pretty much empty by now, but something else was not. A lurch from her bladder forced her attention. She wasn't necessarily thin: she had a bit of chub on her belly, but her bladder created a noticeable bump in her abdomen beyond that, that stretches the waistband of her mini skirt. It was about time, Ava thought to herself. She had been holding for a day and a half, and only now did her bladder start to give a strong response. One and a half days of holding back her urine would seem beyond realistic to exceeding impossible, but it was fairly normal for Avalynn. Despite her rather small frame, she was blessed with a bladder that could stretch and contort better than any contortionist. She could easily hold for days, but just as anyone else, she had a limit, even if that limit was bewilderingly high for anyone of a "normal bladder", as Ava would often put it. Yes, she found a sense of pride in her unique ability, she scoffed at the idea of using a bathroom that wasn't her own, and she would often tease her friends in college about how badly they needed to pee all the time. Ah, she missed those days. Nevertheless, her bladder desired her attention, although, knowing herself, she knows she could hold on for a fair bit longer, perhaps until the morning and then some, making it well into two days of holding. Her best was roughly three and a half days of torturous holding, after she made it a personal challenge to not relieve herself on a camping trip with her family 5 years ago when she was 18. That was certainly tough, especially with the heat causing her to drink plenty to stay hydrated. She recollected on her hold of the past day and a half. She woke up on Thursday with a very strong urge to piss having held for another two days beforehand. She decided to relieve herself upon getting out of bed, doing so over the course of several minutes. This was just another natural occurrence for her: her bladders extreme elasticity and strength allowed liters upon liters of liquid to flow through her like a hot knife through butter. Her "metabolism" for liquid is seemingly very strong, as it seems everything that goes in is quickly transformed into a near equal amount of urine in her bladder. Not to worry, she still receives some good hydration and nutrients from anything she drinks, no matter how much of it is filtered through to her capacious tank in her abdomen. The rest of her Thursday went as to be expected for a work day. Avalynn works at a design firm as a promising designer herself, but is still stuck with mostly busywork given her lack of experience, having just finished her degree the Spring semester last year. The AC in the old building was having some issues, so Ava spent her workday drinking plenty of water and iced tea on the warm Spring day. It wasn't too bad for her, but she felt for the guys wearing long pants today; she was only mildly warm in her professional but short skirt and blouse. Work otherwise went smoothly, she went home, ate dinner, browsed the internet, and went to sleep... Just a normal day for Ava. Except... There was another aspect of Avalynn that is more than meets the eye other than her gargantuan bladder capacity. Ava had a fantastic and relentless libido. Yes, it seemed ever since her teen years she was as easy to bring to heat as an egg in a spitting hot pan. She would often bring several pairs of panties to work or out on the town just in case she drenched the ones she was currently wearing. In fact, it was mostly the reason she wore what was basically a thong tonight; it was less likely to chaff her legs as it got wet with her juices. And that night, just as any night, morning, day, or afternoon, her panties were sopping wet with her lust. Oh, how badly she wanted to hook up tonight, and feel a deep hard cock feeling up her insides... Errr, excuse me... Any given day, right after she wakes up, right after she gets home from work, and right before she goes to bed, she needs a way to relieve herself of her lust. Sometimes if she has time, she'll even try to squeeze a session to relieve herself before she leaves for work, and during or after dinner. On some desperate occasions she even did it in the company restroom. - Not relieving herself of any burden of her bladder, of course. Unfortunately for poor Ava, she could never feel truly satisfied from her attempts at relief even with toys and the best "self-help" books and materials, she craved something big and warm inside her. - Besides her bladder. Anyway, Friday. Wake up, go to town on herself, and go to work. This Friday was especially fortunate, as the office had landed a big long-term client, and the office was in celebration. Plenty of drinks, food, and good times were had. Ava in particular succumbed to the seduction of her favorite drinks of lemonade and Cola, drinking what seemed to be liters and liters of the sweet drinks, along with the coffee and water she would normally drink. By this point Ava's bladder, having held on for more than a day, was rather needy in its requests to excuse itself. Ava enjoyed the feeling of a slowly filling bladder, knowing at some point she would be able to spill all of its contents for minutes on end, providing her with the best satisfaction she could feel without the aid of some male organs. Mmm... It sure would feel good though... After drinking her weight in sugar drinks and water, Ava's other needs called to her at the end of the work day. She decided "What the hell?" and go out looking for someone to hook up with, something she hasn't done since her early college days. She hasn't had the best of luck with them in the past, but her attempts at relieving her libido continued to grow more and more tiresome and less satisfying, so she had to mix it up a bit. And here she was, after spending the good part of 6 hours trying to look cute and sexy to the patrons of the bar, she turned up empty handed. "Damnit..." She squeezed her legs together as her needy pussy dripped in lust. Her panties were soaked, and it was her last pair after changing out of two previous pairs. Having going into the bathroom to switch out her undergarments, her bladder quietly pleaded at the sight of the toilet, but Ava barely acknowledged it as her desire for her other need outweighed it, but it seems to be shifting by this point. "Sighhhhhh..." Ava never felt quite so needy and alone in her life. Sure, all she wanted was a hook-up, but she wished she had her college friends back, or even just someone with something in common to chat with, perferably a guy with a good package... And chiseled abs... And could bench press a bear... And had a scruffy beard... and had a 12 inch- "Excuse me? Miss...?" Ava snapped back to reality, her sad, horny, lonely reality. "Oh? Huh?" The bartender looked at her with a polite smile. "You seemed to be dosing off or lost in your thoughts. I hate to interrupt but we're asking patrons of the bar to begin to exit, if you please." "Oh, uh, sure. Sorry... What do I owe?..." She looks up at the bartender. Except, it wasn't the one that was serving her drinks before. The one that did was shorter, and didn't speak a word, only nodding at the request of more drinks and small talk, with not interest in her. Perhaps he was a mute, which should've been her first clue this one was different. She had a few drinks, cut her some slack. She looked up at the new bartender. His face was grizzled with light brown facial hair with flowing brown hair the barely covered his right eye of blue hue. His smile and face oozed charisma and charm, and his frame, its like she had to crick her neck as she looked up at him. Six foot, two inches at the very least, which towered over her modest height of five foot four. His shirt was tight and showed he had some muscle, not a bodybuilder, but he definitely worked out, maybe enough to even lift her off her feet. Her attraction to him was swift and forceful, her lady parts being sent into overdrive as it burned with passion and need. She could be turned on by a variety of people, but... but... She needed him. "Hey, you're not the same bartender as before.~" She said with a slightly flirtatious tone. "Yep. I'm the closing 'tender. I make sure everyone gets their last drinks in before getting out. And those too stubborn or drunk to leave, I make them leave." He said in a joking-but-serious way. Ava laughed with him. "Well, I promise I won't give you any trouble. What's your name?" She asked as she played with her hair a bit. "Matthew. And you're Avalynn, right?" Ava was a bit taken aback he already knew her name. "What, are you a psychic or something? How did you know my name?" she questioned playfully. "...Your name is on the bill, silly." Urp. Uh, a little awkward, but Ava persisted. "Yeah, I suppose I am, hehe. I guess I had a little too much to drink... And stayed out later than I thought." "That's alright Ms. Avalynn. If you're not comfortable, we can order a cab for you to get home in." "No! I want to talk to you! Please! Come home with me! Take me! Breed me!!!" her lustful brain thought to herself. Ava could hardly repress her urges at this point. Even if the conversation was a bit awkward, she needed him more than she needed air to breath. "I'm... not really comfortable taking a cab. Do you... think I can stay here at the bar for a while, Matthew...?" She looked at him with puppy-dog eyes that always seemed to work on her parents. Matthew conceded. "I suppose you can stay until after I close, and call me Matt, Ms. Avalynn." "Oh, thank you Matt! And, you can just call me Ava, ok?~" Ava said with a bit of seduction in her voice as she presented her bosom on the bar, which in turn contorted her expanding bladder. "Ava, I like that name. I'm gonna get some of these stragglers out of here, then we can chat some more, ok?" And so time quickly passed to 3:30 AM, one and a half hours after close. Ava and Matt certainly hit it off, as they found more and more in common: music tastes, video games, books and movies, and even shared the same soda preferences. All the while Ava was subtly flirting with him and revealing a little more of herself to him, which he started to reciprocate by being seductive back. "Ok. Its time to reel him in." Ava thought to herself. "Hey Matt,~ I know its late and we just met, but... do you think you can take me back to my apartment...? You can come inside if you'd like, I'll make some coffee, my treat~" Ava laid her cards on the table, all that was left was to see Matt's hand. He took the hint. "Sure thing Ava, I'd love to bring you home safe and sound. Lets get going." Ava began to sat up from her stool, a bit too fast in her excitement. Her bladder sloshed and ached as she stood, it took a conscious effort to hold her dam shut after being inactive for a while. "A-ah~" She winced in pain as she struggled to compose herself. "You okay Ava?" Matt asked sincerely. "Y-yeah. Just had a bit too much to drink is all, I really gotta pee. I can wait till I'm home though." "By all means, then lets hurry to your place." Matt stepped from behind the counter, and it was the first time Ava saw his lower half... And could plainly see a bulge in his pants that snaked down his pant leg a bit. This couldn't have gotten Ava any more excited as she was practically dripping with enthusiasm from her pussy. All she had to do was play along, and she was sure she could score a winner. And so she did. It was a short drive to her place but it took an even shorter amount of time for the two to get busy once they were in her apartment. Ava liked her men "big", and Matt was no exception. His penis, amazingly, was ten inches long. That bulge she saw? Only half-mast. As Matt penetrated her over and over again on her bed she felt she would split in half, but her excess pussy juices made his dick of such length and girth slide almost effortlessly in and out of her. Along with that, his cock pushed on her already swollen bladder, stretching it and contorting it to the point that her abdomen bulged a few inches from the rest of her body. And that's not all. When Matt came, his load was excessive. It filled her womb with his hot seed and made her belly bulge almost another half inch. She finally reached what she desired after so long. Being full of a deep, long cock, with a uterus full of hot cum. She felt full, and satisfied. The intense sex and orgasm after orgasm persisted long into the night, only when the light of dawn broke were the two lovers in heat able to be exhausted to the point of drifting off to sleep in Ava's bed. Ava could finally say she was satisfied of her burden, and she dozed off. But her bladder could not say the same, and it would not for quite some time. To be continued.
  11. Hey all! This story was a story started by user BurstingBunnie, called The Urges of Ember the Dragoness, the link for it is here: I highly recommend you read the first two chapters of this story before reading this one for context. I decided to add my own interpretation and conclusion for the story, as this one has not been updated in three years, and was left on a bit of a cliffhanger. This interpretation, should the author return to the original story, is considered "non-canon". The author's version, obviously, should supersede this interpretation, and I welcome the author to return to this story to finish it, or make another story with the same idea or characters. Personally, I really enjoyed the unique setting and scale of Ember, I might return to Ember and the idea of dragon omorashi since I had fun writing this so much. Now, without further ado, her is my interpretation for the final part of The Urges of Ember the Dragoness! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (4,471 words total) Ember exerted her flying strength to the best of her abilities, but could only feel all the liquid in her swollen abdomen slosh downwards and stretch her belly. Her poor bladder, weighing the tons and tons, was a weight too much for even her strength. And she was one of the strongest and fastest fliers of any dragoness. Male dragons were typically far superior in strength and speed to their female counterparts, but nevertheless, she was able to compete with most of the males on the off chance they came into contact. The humans had seen the futile act of flight Ember had displayed, and the Doomsday preachers took notice, and Ember's sympathizers grew weary, but many were compassionate. The Doomsdayers called for war on Ember, as fear took a hold of their agenda. Many more humans grew understanding of their cause and joined in the rally, drowning out the rally of Ember’s supporters. The Doomsdayers hurled aggressions at poor Ember, and some started throwing stones at her. Her scales were plenty tough enough to outlast the thrown rocks - any dragon’s would - but nonetheless it filled her with sadness to see the village turn on her that she put in so much effort and desperation to save. Ember considered trying to stand and walk away from the village and find a place to finally relieve her immense burden, slowly and urgently sloshing inside her huge bladder walls. However, she was afraid to move. The pressure on her poor urethra was beyond immense, implicitly applying it's pressure to her reproductive system, figuratively, as in the arousal from all the pressure, but also literally, as her G-spot ached and begged for something to be put inside it. As she clenched her huge dragon paws on her lower lips, she only just noticed how soaking wet she was. Her juices oozed out of her in preparation for a potential mate to thrust inside of her as she held on to her bladder's payload, moaning and growing as it pushed against her needy pussy and g-spot, only for her to release it all as she came, with enough energy as she roared to create winds to shake homes and trees. Oh… how badly she needed to piss and orgasm everywhere. A thought crossed her mind… Damn these humans, they are but an insignificant species to the might of dragons. The world and time would forget them, and in dragon age, they were mere toddlers. The urge to succumb to her needs mounted. Who in the world would care for a few generations of self-centered humans of one village?... …Ember did. As much as her body begged her to think of herself, even a dragoness such as herself could not bear the guilt of drowning innocent creatures in such a gruesome way. Ember mustered up her strength, wincing and grimacing as she uncrossed her legs. The townspeople quit their squabbling and took notice, nervous in anticipation whether their town was to be drenched in their fiery prophecy. Ember planted her feet, her voluptuous, sexy dragoness body on full display to the town. She blushed red as she knew her soaked, needy pussy lips were being exposed to the whole town, but she had to persevere. She began to stand, her huge bladder bulge again weighing her down. She felt like she drank -and processed- her entire weight in liquid, as she was a big and proud dragoness. The pressure was immense. Tears welled up I'm her eyes as she slowly continued her ascent. Her entire contents pushed down on her urethra and applied the most intense pressure on her G-spot and reproductive system as a whole. Her vision grew blurry as her heart raced and grew light headed. But she was almost there. She was about to click her knees into a fully standing position, standing high above the town… But Ember leaked. She moaned from the pressure, but it sounded like a roar to the townsfolk. A drop, at least a drop to Ember, dripped from her quivering urethra. However this drop was in actuality several gallons of hot piss. It splashed on the ground, creating a small crater and sprayed anyone too close. Ember immediately collapsed from her own weight, digging her paws into her crotch and falling straight on her huge, curvy dragoness ass. The impact of her ass on the ground sent another leak spurting out of her bladder, to be caught by her paw. The impact sent shockwaves equivalent to small earthquakes throughout the village, and its inhabitants were in full panic mode, thinking the dragon they catered so well for was going to finally flood their poor settlement in a blaze of piss. Ember gritted her sharp teeth and clenched her crotch and its respective muscles as much as she could. Her abdomen sloshed and wiggled up and down from the sudden impact, similar to that of a ball impacting the ground and rebounding skyward. The pressure, again, was unbearable. Ember's breath was heavy, with tears in her eyes, clenching down with more force than she ever had to before. The townsfolk that ran to their homes and braced for the waves of amber, started to reemerge at the lack of such. They carefully looked around and back up at the clearly struggling Ember. She felt incredibly weak. Nothing and no one was able to best her strength, but now she was squirming and quivering from her own bladder, it visibly sloshing back and forth as she squirmed, her ass creating a stark imprint in the ground as she wiggled her thick ass into it. Damn it… she thought to herself. She was better than this. She is better than this. She needed to regain her composure. And so, she took a large breath, and consolidated her might to her sore and exhausted pelvic muscles, to recover some semblance of control over herself. Which after some doing, finally took place. She exhaled after what felt like hours… which probably was a few hours it took the recompose herself. She didn't even have to hold herself by her puffy, hot nethers anymore, but she still sit with her dragon thighs squished together with enough force to turn the largest oak trees into splinters. The village decided they needed to figure out what to do next. A threat seemed to loom over them, an unprecedented threat that seemed unavoidable and could not be moved. A meeting was held in the town square, and the most intellectual thinkers and leaders gathered and spoke to the nervous crowd, who glanced at the quivering, squirming dragoness from time to time. The meeting described some solutions that could be taken, but people were split on both the urgency and how much they should invest in a solution. One member suggested they cut their losses and evacuate the city to become the domain of the dragon. Ember, who was able to hear the meeting thanks to supernatural senses. Agreed wholeheartedly, but still felt bad about destroying the homes and lives of the village people. To her dismay, the village was unwilling to leave, and it reflected in the public opinion. Another suggested digging a huge hole so the dragon could relieve herself. More libertarian villagers adamantly opposed, unwilling to devote the time and resources to such a project. Another side stated the logistical concern of how big to make it, and what would the village do with a massive lake, tens of thousands of gallons, with stinking yellow dragon piss. It was ultimately shot down, similarly to an idea to transport Ember the thousands of miles to an ocean via a giant "cart". Another idea sprung forth suggesting that large buckets be used, drawn by horses, to incrementally let Ember empty a little of her bladder over time, to be dumped at a discreet location. Immediately the idea was called into question: "What if the dragon couldn't control her stream?" Ember herself had faith but not certainty she could prevent that from happening. Ember watched in anticipation as the wheels of democracy slowly turned. And slow and aggravating they were. Suggestions turned to arguments, arguments into insults. Ember bounced and jiggled her legs and wiggled her butt. She rolled her eyes at the inefficiency of humans. If dragons had a disagreement, over space or a hoard for example, it all came down to a matter of strength in a battle, sometimes to the death. Although uncommon, these battles were devastating, destroying whole forests and turning hills into mountains from the scars of battle. At least it was more concise than the systems humans put in place. Finally, after hours of discussion, with the sun setting and Ember's bladder continuing to apply its immense pressure, every jiggle of her bulge sending shivers down her spine, and every pulse of her nether region sending arousal to her brain, a conclusion was reached. A more conservative group emerged that wished to keep efforts and costs low, and they proposed engineering a "plug" to keep the dragon's bladder at bay, until the next generations, which they agree to be more advanced and resourceful, can deal with the needs of the dragon. The general public seemed to like this approach, and little opposition was present. Ember was aghast at the idea and blushed red at the thought of the humans inserting a plug into her dragonhood… But her interest was piqued. How well could a human invention stand to the might of a dragon and her bladder? And if it did, the thought of having her bladder be plugged and test her limits was tantalizing. Perhaps, as the mantra goes, dragons can hold forever. She could be the first dragon to have some so, and holding could take this already immense pressure on her reproductive organs and make her sexual endeavors that much more blissful. She could only imagine the feeling of finding another strong, powerful dragon of the opposite sex, bending her over, and fucking her senseless as he presses his scaly organ deep into her, pushing and prodding her bladder's walls, making her feel a great matter of sensual pleasure, making her roar and moan, perhaps even spit fire as she has done in the past. And when all was said and done, the dragon would cum hundreds and hundreds of gallons straight into her womb, filling her up much like her bladder has filled her thus far. She would cum along with him, roaring loud enough to shear the leaves off of trees and uproot them with the boom of her orgasm, that would send both shakes down her body and the Earth. Or… or she could find a guild of male dragons, and submit to them, letting them do whatever they please to her and her bladder, all without spilling a single drop of her payload. They could make her drink, push on her, even engulf her in their fire or be used solely as a vessel for their sexual desires, covering her and filling her up with their semen. She prayed to be used as such until her next hibernation, or even past that. She also thought of touring the world for other dragonesses, and challenging them to a contest of strength regarding their bladders. They could drink entire lakes and seas and see which would be the first to release their bladders of thousands of gallons of piss. Ember might be cheating with the plug, but her bladders sheer tenacity would earn respect on its own. Perhaps it could train her to hold those loads on her own. Having won a contest, Ember could get the dragoness to submit to her, and she could have a harem of desperate (she would forbid them from relieving themselves, of course) dragonesses for her exploitation, and her sexual pleasure whenever she needed it. Her mind wandered to a great variety and quantity of sexual fantasies. Her paws snaked their way down to her crotch to grab a hold of herself, the pressure of her bladder mounting ever so prominently, but also to very gently rub her clit, being nearly the size of a person. She cooed softly at the sensual touch and her runaway arousal as her dreams went wild envisioning the great fun and pleasure she could have. Her daydreaming went on for some time. Her tongue lolled out and her eyes squint closed and she caressed, squeezed, and rubbed her horribly needy clit. However, the feeling lasted for only what appeared to be a short while, as the rays of the sun and the murmurs of the town awoke her. She opened her eyes, it was morning now, she must have been daydreaming those lewd thoughts all night. The cluster of town inhabitants stood within very close proximity to her crotch, her quivering pussy in full view of them. She blushed horribly as they motioned up and down and talked amongst themselves. The group all looked fairly smart, Ember thought it might have been a group of the village’s smartest people to address their problem. She remembered the town's idea of a plug, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed but also excited for its “installation”. The members of the group reached a consensus, it seemed, and motioned a group to come forward. Out came a large wagon, with a completely peeled and sanded tree trunk, just big enough to fit her urethra, it would seem, carried by a number of peasants. Ember grew flushed as she could feel herself sweat. The anticipation was also making her need much more precedent. She tried to avoid covering herself, but curled her toes and clenched her teeth keeping her flood at bay. The wagon had reached its destination, right at the level of her urethral opening. Ember breathed deep and heavy breaths as she tried to maintain her composure. She could tell just by looking at it, that the trunk was still definitely too big to fit, at least conventionally. However, she only just noticed how slick and wet she still was around her crotch. Her pussy was soaking wet with her teasing and self-indulgence and daydreaming, which extended to her urethral opening, serving as a lubricant, making the opening slick and slippery. Some of the men jumped on the wagon, and began pulling and stretching her urethra’s opening. “Mmmmmf!!~” She barely contained a moan and rolled her eyes back in pleasure. Her poor peehole was so sensitive and sore from her endeavors that the human’s tiny hands sent amazing sensations to her brain. They could barely get a grip to pull it open, as it was so well-lubricated. Some other men began to push the end of the trunk into her urethra while the others held it open. It prodded the opening, sending more sensations of pleasure and anticipation within Ember. She gripped her scally thighs as the nipples on her breasts began to harden like boulders. The men began to very slowly push the trunk inside her. Ember was in pure bliss, she felt she was on the verge of cumming violently from all these feelings. She pinched and twisted her right nipple as she clenched her left thigh with intense strength. The more they pushed, the more Ember began to reach the tipping point of releasing her pent up sexual need. She could feel herself getting closer… and closer… and closer… She could feel it, that burning release she had been craving for over a millenia… It was right there… just… a bit… more… But the townsfolk stopped pushing the trunk. It was now solidly in her puffy, quivering urethra, and felt no need to keep pushing. “No! Please! Keep pushing! I’m so close!”. Ember was desperate and enraged that she was so near her release. The pressure to orgasm and to piss the volume of lakes was immense, and the trunk exacerbated both, but now it wasn’t enough to please her. Ember could only sigh in disappointment. But in the meantime, the village revoiced. They felt they were victorious in the threat over their settlement, providing a strong but temporary solution to their problem, to be solved by their future generations. Ember was less certain of the plug’s durability. She felt that if she pushed even a little hard, or made one wrong move, or God forbid: orgasm, it would shoot out as a projectile and drown the village in their prophecy, providing Ember with the intense relief and satisfaction she desperately craved, but was ultimately not worth taking the innocent lives of thousands of humans. She decided to let the humans have their victory. At the very least, she would not have the threat of leaking under normal circumstances. Despite the added assurance, Ember decided not to take any unnecessary risks by standing or walking, with flying now an impossibility. She made herself comfortable in the patch of land she had been sitting in for the past couple days. It had been a few weeks now, and Ember was still holding on tight, with her new lid firmly on the overflowing bottle of her bladder. Her belly extended so far she couldn’t see the top half of her thighs. The pressure of her bladder of many lakes pushed on all aspects of her body immensely. The rainy season’s rains only added to her pressure. On some days a downpour would torrent on Ember. If the torrents happened while she slept, her dreams were filled with the thoughts of those rains adding each and every drop to her ginormous capacity. It could be said with certainty, that Ember held the most any dragon, nay, any thing has ever held before. And Ember loved it. The pressure on her urethra, on her body, on her libido, everywhere pressure could be felt, it was there, and she loved it all. Liquid sloshed inside of her, bouncing her belly back and forth, up and down as she moved every so slightly. Despite her bladder’s condition, she still craved more. During the downpours she would open her jaws to the sky and inhale more and more of the rain’s water, adding perhaps another couple hundred, if not thousands, of gallons of liquid to her gargantuan tank. Not because she was thirsty, but just so she could see just how far she could go. She had been slowly and secretly playing with herself those weeks as well, she was so incredibly sensitive from all the pressure, that just by touching her clit she risked orgasming everywhere and releasing her contents all over the village. She regrettably remained mostly abstinent from her indulgence, but it was truly starting to weigh on her. And she truly, truly, needed to pee. Even as the dragon montra goes, with dragons never needing to pee and all, Ember had to admit to herself that after drinking perhaps an oceans worth of water, it was only a matter of time before she would burst everywhere. The tree trunk that had remained in her urethra for all those weeks was beginning to loosen, the pressure slowly working it out of her. Yet, the townspeople took no notice or care in Ember, despite her plainly obvious condition. They had no understanding, so they remained blissfully unaware of the impending doom they thought they had solved for the time being. Ember put a paw on her belly, it was completely firm. It had no give, and now, no more room to expand. By this point, there was little she could do but try to hold back the inevitable. She clawed at her crotch to try to push the plug far enough into her urethra, to no avail: the pressure slid it back out just after she would push it back in, every time. She breathed heavily, just trying her absolute hardest to remain in control that was slowly slipping from her. But on this Spring afternoon, something felt a bit off to Ember. As a dragoness, she was notably in touch with her surroundings, even in her desperate state. She could feel the ground shake, and it felt as if something was… moving, no, churning inside of the Earth. Suddenly, the churning sensation started to turn to a slight rumble. Uh oh. Ember recognized almost immediately what was going on. She has been on this Earth for many eras and witnessed many of these events. The rumble grew stronger, the people of the village looked around in confused concern. And then, the Earth began to shake. The shaking sensation was much felt by Ember’s bladder, her firm abdomen sloshing back and forth as the ground shook. She clawed her crotch, barely able to reach it around her hugely distended belly. The shaking grew more and more in intensity, people fled to their homes, screaming and panicking. Suddenly, a cracking boom was heard all over the village. It came from the mountain that Ember used to call her den. The mountain was beginning to collapse in on itself! The mountain imploded, as suddenly huge clouds of ash began to erupt out of the side of the mountain. No doubt about it, the large mountain that Ember called her den was actually a dormant volcano! It explains why the mountain’s insides were nice and warm, she thought. The implosion opened a crater inside the mountain, and hot magma began pouring out and flowing quickly towards the village! Ember had seen eruptions before, but this volcano had produced the most magma she had ever seen, it would absolutely drown the village in fiery death no sooner than a minute! Ember knew what she had to do. Perhaps on instinct, perhaps due to her absolutely insanely desperate need, she made up her mind to save the village, once again. But first she had to position herself between the village and the flow. The magma flow was approaching the East side of the village; she was at the North. She would have to stand and move in order to meet it, and fast. As quickly as she could, she began to stand up, her bladder violently protesting ,trying to release several leaks as she moved. She grew light headed from standing up so fast, and moaned at the sensation. She still had her paws firmly in her crotch. She paced over to the East side, her staggered steps ringing thuds that shook the Earth. Her bladder tried to spurt and release its contents at every step. Her bladder had enough, it wanted out. Ember managed to reach the East side of the village perimeter, the flow advancing strongly towards her, the heat of the lava warming her where she stood. Her bladder was pushing with incredible force, Ember’s vision grew fuzzy as she breathed very heavily. The tree trunk that was stuffed into her uterus was slipping out, and splintering from the force it had kept at bay for so long. This is it, Ember knew exactly what she had to do. She fell down on her thick rump, laid back, legs spread, and pushed with all her strength. The tree trunk flew out like a projectile, and the frothing, boiling piss, trapped in her for millennia from before her hibernation, sprayed out in a similar fashion. Ember roared violently at the pleasure and satisfaction she experienced, and immediately dug her paw onto her clit, to which it took only a few strong strokes for her to orgasm the most amazing and violent orgasm she had ever experienced. The piss poured out like the strongest waterfall on Earth, and cooled and hardened the lava, stopping it in its tracks! The piss misted into the air on contact with the magma, so there was no risk of Ember flooding the valley of the village. Ember’s piss and sustained orgasm lasted for hours, all the liquid inside of her taking its time to come out, but still shot out with such incredible force it could carve a canyon into the hardest rock. Ember was in pure bliss. The only thing that could make it better was a giant dragon cock being stuffed inside her as she released, but she could hardly complain. But as the day turned to evening, Ember’s torrential waterfall turned into a river, then to a stream, then to a trickle, then nothing at all. The volcano had similarly emptied its contents, the magma hardened into a unique obsidian that shined a glossy black. Ember felt weak and limp, but was completely, totally satisfied. Her breath was heavy, and she was tired. But eventually, she mustered her strength to look back at the village she had saved. They looked at her, utterly flabbergasted, but erupted into cheers and celebration at their savior, once again. The prophecy came true, somewhat, but the boiling yellow rivers were to save their village, not to destroy it. A celebration bigger than the last was held, with more partying, drinking, and even praying and blessing the dragoness, as to some, she was a goddess. Ember was flattered, but was too exhausted to do much of anything else. The same as before, she was offered expensive wine and the best animals the farms could slaughter for her consumption, which she accepted gracefully. She once again drank a strong amount of alcohol and other beverages, which made its way through her tired kidneys and to her battle-scarred bladder. But she could hardly care, she was so exhausted. She dozed off to sleep as the partying continued into the night. Ember awoke to the whole town bowing and praying to her. As a sign of good fortune, they continued their offerings, but Ember knew she had overstayed her welcome, by some time. She felt much lighter, shedding perhaps her entire body weight in urine. She felt flight come back to her as easy as ever, and her stomach, still bloated as it was recovering, was much, much smaller. Ember bowed back to the village, which gave one last hurrah back to Ember. She beat her wings, and began to take off to the skies, to explore the world once more after her hibernation, seeking the company of other dragons, particularly male ones - despite her pleasure, she wouldn’t feel totally fulfilled without something extra. She flew a thousand miles, before coming across a lake and feeling thirsty, to which she gulped nearly half its volume. Her belly full of liquid, she took to the sky, this weight meaning little to her by now. She flew another couple thousand miles, before reaching a shoreline over a massive ocean. The sight of all that water made Ember start to feel the very first urges of needing to piss, rather unprecedented being so soon after her immense relief. Ember ignored the urge, and continued to fly over the ocean, opting to hold it. The End
  12. Hello friends! This is where I will be posting short-form ideas that do not expand into full fanfics. I post them in general because they're not structured/long enough to be fics, I don't think. This is my third time posting omo content online, so I'm still very new. Criticism is welcomed but please be nice about it. Also, some of this will involve sex. anyway, getting us started. so in your typical fantasy setting, elves are usually thought to be more resilient/stronger/can go longer without attending to their bodily needs than humans, right? I'm thinking of that with omo. Elven royalty training to hold for as long as possible, their poor tormented bladders swelling to the size of basketballs, even beach balls, able to hold a solid few gallons before they finally have to go. Imagine the bladder bulges, standing out firmly against their normally toned stomachs. Imagine elven royalty having perfect composure even when they've got two or three gallons of water contained in them. Now imagine them being pushed past their limits even then, sweat breaking across delicate brows, toned thighs beginning to tremble, toes beginning to curl. Imagine the quiet "... Could you please, if it's not too inconvenient, tell me where I can find a chamber pot?" when they really can't hold anymore. Imagine them being refused and faced with either finding it themselves and possibly offending their hosts or soaking delicate silks and velvets with literal gallons of pee. Or imagine the host being kind and showing them a real chamber pot, but it's just too small to hold all of their waters, and they have to try and stop their stream, wait for the servants to empty their chamber pot, then finish. Imagine them having to do that multiple times. Or maybe the host has to borrow a large bucket or cauldron or barrel for them to go into, if they value their comfort that much/are that kind. Imagine the relief when they finally do find somewhere appropriate to pee, a full five minutes of gushing and holding back moans, determined not to humiliate themselves more than they already have. Or, with average elves, human friends/lovers/co-adventurers seeing their elven compatriots' bulges for the first time, not as big as the bulges of royals of course, but still able to retain a solid gallon. Imagine how shocked and surprised they are. I bet they would probably push the elf in question to just find a tree or bush or alley or something, not to torment themselves in this way. Unless, of course, they told them to hold it more. See how big that sucker can get. Imagine an elven adventurer visiting the home of a gnome or halfling and having to hold it the whole time because the bladder size difference is so great. Imagine the gnome/halfling/fairy/other short race just telling them to go in the garden if they find out. Or imagine them lining up three to six chamber pots for them to use and the elf having to crab walk from one to the other in order to fully empty themselves 😅 Of course, your average elf probably wouldn't be as resistant to just going in the woods/garden/whatever as elven royalty, so there's more opportunities for peeing in things that aren't toilets, if you're into that like I am. Also has opportunities for hurt/comfort after a wetting, if you're into that--"I'm an elf, I'm not supposed to soil myself like this!" "Don't worry, *elf-friend's name*, even you aren't invincible, you just pushed yourself too hard. Let's get you nice and clean and we won't worry about this anymore." There are opportunities for messing, too, if you're one of those who believes elves eat a plant-based (and high in fiber) diet. Also, imagine how much a bladder bulge of a few gallons would jiggle and bounce and slosh when the elf moves. Pure torment, I bet ❤️
  13. Hi! This is a story based on a drawing I saw on Reddit, although I don’t know the author, or exactly what it was based on. The user who posted it said, “I think the picture is based on the anime 'maria-sama ga miteru' their names from left to right are mizuno yoku, ogasawara sachiko and fukusawa yumi“ I completely ignored the names for this story, but Suzan would be Mizuno, Jane would be Ogasawara, and Lily would be Fukusawa (who is Jane’s sister, though somewhat optionally). [the events of this picture have not yet occurred in the story. They happen near the end. See the picture later] Skip to the story if you don’t need context. Suzan is the lady of this house, and is an inventor. She has a laboratory down in the finished basement. Jane and her little sister (or just companion) Lily work for her as maids, and the three are good friends. One day, Suzan is working on something, and ends up testing it on Jane. The end result is that Jane’s body is self-hydrating, and particularly her kidneys are super producing urine at an increasing rate. Thankfully, the effects do not inherently hurt Jane’s body at all, but they are inconvenient nonetheless for obvious reasons. Suzan feels deeply guilty, and immediately sets to work on an antidote for this new effect. While that is in the works, she quickly develops a “comfort model” diaper to help alleviate some of the inconvenience for the time being. As a safety measure she hopes she doesn’t need, Jane goes to bed in such a diaper, as Suzan continues work on the antidote. === BEGIN STORY === Jane woke up with a full bladder, but equally full nappy. “This is getting ridiculous,” she thought, as she struggled out of bed. As she did so, she noticed that majority of the pee in the diaper was still warm, and at first she though with alarm that this meant she must have wet within the past couple of minutes, and was already desperate again. But then she remembered, “Oh, right. ‘Comfort model.’” As Suzan had hoped and promised, the extra warmth retaining properties (and other features) she had engineered into the special diaper did indeed make it more comfortable after being pissed in, though an unexpected side effect was the loss of a subliminal sense of time since whenever Jane had peed herself. It quite literally felt as if she was perpetually just having wetted. Even so, she endured until after she had dressed herself, after she had washed her face, after the diaper was thrown away, and after she had dried the pee off her skin, before she finally treated herself to blissful relief on the porcelain. After all, she wasn’t the kind to put pleasure before duty, and while Jane of course normally liked weeing as much as the next maidservant, with the condition she was in, this was definitely in the pleasure category. She moaned helplessly as she quickly began pissing quite hard, ringing melodically against the toilet bowl, without letting up for about a minute and ten seconds. The last twenty seconds after that were slower, though, and she was able to regain some of her composure before she finished. With the business done, she got up to start her morning duties. It wasn’t too long into starting breakfast, however, that she realized she had forgotten to put on any panties. Oh, well. Meanwhile, six slices of bacon and six eggs were soon frying, and her bladder was soon feeling in want of a wee. “Come on,” she thought to herself, “it’s barely been ten minutes, and I already need to pee again.” “I’m done setting the table!” Lilly interrupted Jane’s thoughts. Then she noticed Jane’s legs crossing. “Um… Do you want to pee?” As a matter of fact, blankin’ right she wanted to pee. She wasn’t about to admit that in front of Lilly, though. Lilly had tended to overdramatize things in Jane’s opinion. She uncrossed her legs, and said casually, “Well, a little, but I can hold it.” This statement was about half true, and might’ve been entirely true normally, but considering the current state Jane was in, the idea that the urge would remain “a little” for long was highly optimistic. “Okay. Just be ready in case of an emergency, alright?” “Alright,” Jane answered, feeling Lilly was acting a bit silly. She wasn’t about to have an accident like a three-year-old. The condition was mostly… annoying, that was it, annoying. She didn’t need babying from her sister. She pressed her legs together again. This was particularly annoying. Jane put the eggs and bacon into serving dishes, and Lilly brought them to the table while Jane went to wake up Suzan. She resisted the temptation to scissor walk up the stairs to Suzan’s bedroom, but mostly because it would either drastically slow her down or make it very hard to balance. The urge to pee was becoming very strong indeed. Arriving at Suzan’s bedroom, she knocked gently on the door. “Suzan?” Nothing. She opened it a bit, and called again. “Suzan?” Still nothing, so she stepped inside. The bed was empty. “Oh, of course,” Jane sighed, and went back down the stairs (!), to the basement made laboratory door, and peeked in. There was Suzan, wearing her lab coat over her evening dress from the night before, slumped over the table. “Suzan?” Jane whispered loudly, but to no avail. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to descend yet another flight of stairs, but descend she did, and gently shook Suzan awake. “Ooh, what time is it?” The lady of the house said slowly. “It’s, uh, 7:24, in the morning. Breakfast is ready,” Jane answered, now standing firmly on one foot. Suzan glanced at the items scattered around her workspace. “Oh, good. I wasn’t dreaming that part. Well, there’s still more to do, but… *yawn* …I think I finally have a cure in the works for, um, what I did to you yesterday.” She glanced nervously at Jane’s bladder. “I’m really sorry about that. It m-must have been horribly inconvenient…” Suzan was not one to get emotional, but it had been one of her first human tests, and ironically what had caused the problem was the antidote to the initial experiment. She had tested it on Guinea pigs first, of course, but then who expects a Guinea pig to moderate where and when it pees? “Suzan,” Jane looked her straight in the eye, “it’s all right. I’ll be fine! You did the best you could. I forgive you.” “*Sniff* Thank you,” Suzan answered, and the two embraced. “Jane? Suzan? If you don’t come soon, the eggs are going to get cold!” Lily called from the kitchen. Suzan hung up her lab coat, quickly rinsed her face (which Jane was not quick enough to avoid witnessing, to her dismay. Why did laboratory sinks have to sound so tinkly when water splashed in them?), and the two headed upstairs. Sitting down at the table, Jane really was in a desperate state. She was now very much aware that she wasn’t wearing any panties, and the non-water-retaining cushion on her chair (Suzan’s work, and one of her favorite inventions so far) seemed to be begging her, “Piss me, piss me wet soaked with piss, please! It won’t hurt a thing.” She couldn’t argue. Everything in the house that wasn’t absolutely separate from the laboratory had been spill-proofed, including the composite floor. She could probably piss a few bushels before it would hurt anything, if not more. Bad time to think of that. A small spurt escaped onto the cushion. Her bladder had hit maximum, and Jane was losing control, fast. “No!” she thought, “I will go to the b… place on my own time. I’m finishing breakfast first.” Thankfully, she only had two bites of eggs left. One bite, one half… Done. She picked up her dishes as a pretense. Even now, she didn’t want to admit a loss of control, although one was undeniably looming. “*Swallow* I, uh, I’ll go w-wash this up in the kitche-AAAAH, AHH!” At the mention and thought of the warm, soapy water on her hands, Jane’s sphincter quite emphatically decided that it had had enough. She began pissing hard, and fell helplessly back into the turned-away chair, dropping the plate and spoon onto the floor (thankfully, the plate did not break). She tried to stop the flow, and even to get up and run to the bathroom, but her bladder was too exhausted to cooperate. Suzan immediately got up to help her, but quickly realized there was not much she could do. So instead, she took Jane’s hand, and began to comfort her, “It’s okay, Jane, it’s okay. Don’t hurt yourself. You did a good job. Just let it all fly away. It won’t hurt the floor. Just let yourself pee.” For about two seconds, Jane debated as to wether she should follow Suzan’s advice: It was so counterintuitive. But, Suzan was probably correct, and she was the lady of the house, so Jane relaxed. Almost immediately, her peeing became extremely pleasurable. She was peeing harder and harder, more than she ever had before in her life. She was blushing, panting, and moaning from the sensation. She was still holding weakly onto Suzan’s hand for some reason, a seeming last touch with familiar reality as her urethra was taking her round the moon and back. Suzan wasn’t sure what Jane’s various exclamatory sounds meant, so she asked, “Are you okay?” Jane threw her head back, and moaned, “Yeeeees…!” Susan blushed herself, and hunched a bit from happy embarrassment. At least something good was coming of the accident yesterday. Jane went back to observing her stream, and the puddle she was making. It was hardly believable! [picture occurs here] Meanwhile, Lily had also gotten up to comfort Jane, but, like Suzan, was now staring in amazement as Jane continued to power piss, far surpassing what her bladder could’ve possibly been carrying to start with. Although it seemed like stream would eventually be proven finite, Jane certainly wasn’t going to be done any time soon, and she didn’t want to be done yet, either.
  14. So just a small story not much desperation just mostly set up, I am very interested in monster girls, English isn't my first Language so its gonna be rough. “I would say I am a generous man, but look at me now and what I am doing. I suppose if she said she would do anything to repay me then who am I to deny her” a 160 year old man said to himself as he walked deep into a red wood forest. Jackson was a rather tall and pale elf. He was dressed in attire made for being in the deep forest but clearly he screamed wealth and power. However he was a humble man who has done many kind acts with his money. Today he was on his way to see one of the people who he assisted. “Wonder what is taking her so long, I did mention that I would be here when the sun is at the highest in the sky. I hope nothing dreadful has happened to the poor young lady” he once again said to himself as he sat down on a rock taking in his surroundings. Their meeting spot was in this clearing in the forest, marked with a few fallen trees. Suddenly the ground began to shake periodically, this didn’t surprise him as he looked towards where the tremors were coming from. Suddenly this gigantic woman appeared out of the forest give or take was about 22m tall (75ft). She is a fair skinned woman with a very aggressive feel about her, and she has a large scar on her left cheek. She has messy brown hair that is about shoulder length with jellyfish-blue eyes. Her attire is a tattered gray two-piece clothing that is stitched together and dirty. She was barefoot and had a rather angry expression and was about 54 years old, when she saw Jackson her expression softened up. “Is something the matter you looked quite upset for a second there, if I didn’t know you I would have been terrified” he jokingly said to Demi. She would respond with a slight giggle and carefully walked towards him, reached down to pick him up and placed him in the palm of her hand. “Look old man, it's not easy living out here, I just failed a hunt and I’m bummed out. Sorry for being late sometimes I get lost in the hunt” she said as a matter of fact to him. He just dismissively waved and chuckled. “It's alright, I get your struggles believe me and old man?” he once again chuckled “For my race I’m merely a child and for you well you're just a baby” he jokingly retorted. “Shut it old man, would a baby be this big?” she snapped back playfully at him. “Let's get down to business. I owe you my life and you gave me a second chance at it, I have to repay you. I know you have all the wealth you would ever need but surely there is something I can offer. You figured something out since you came, right? “ she pleaded with him. He would sign a bit and know she was a bit right, what could a Giant offer to him a rich Elf. Truth be told this took him weeks to build up enough courage to even consider this repayment. “As we both know Giants are rare and you are rather large for your kind as well, I would like to just gather data on you” he muttered out quickly. “You're not gonna make me a lab rat are you?” she looked at him with a bit of skepticism, with those words she was slightly regretting this but would wait to see what else he would say. He took a deep breath and resumed. “No it's quite simple, it's just an endurance test, I want to see your limits and slowly chart how they grow with you. You're much larger than most Giants I have seen and you're only in your 50s when your race has been known to live thousands of years.” he stated as a matter of fact. “Oh that is it? You wanna see how fast or strong I am at my best? Prepare to be impressed. I will not disappoint my kind.`` Now she was fired up but this motivation would waver once Jackson said this. “We will tackle those things on a later date, today’s limit test will be to see how long you can avoid going to the bathroom” he said this phrase quickly, and her expression went from happy to confused. This was not the type of test she was expecting but in her mind this is a limit, truth be told she didn’t know due to just going wherever she wanted in the forest. “Uhh all right? You do know it may take a long time for that to happen…but I don’t know my limits there. What a weird first test but easy enough. So should I go now then?” she said pointing towards the forest. Jackson nodded and he was placed on the ground. “So what about you old man gonna camp out here or want to hang out with me?” she said looking down at him, even though she towered over the elf he was in control with this arrangement. “For the sake of you not cheating I will accompany you on what you do daily. I can use this to record more data” he responded. “Pffft your funeral old man, hope you can keep up with the wilderness” she said dismissively as she walked out of view to pop a squat. Having had some manners due to being associated with Jackson but had no issues with peeing in the forest, not like any toilet would fit her. She didn’t need to go as much but with the deed being done she would walk back to Jackson who was writing down a few notes. “Already taking notes?” she would ask to pick him up and placed him on her shoulder, with that would begin to walk her usual route. “Of course I am, and the first one is I’m glad you still have manners even if you act like a savage” he teased her, which she responded by sticking her tongue out at him then. The rest of the day went without a hitch, bad for her since there were no other large creatures showing up for her to hunt down. Annoyed, she would simply fill her stomach up with water from rivers. This is something she would normally do if her hunts fail and for once it was relevant to the task at hand. “It has been about 13 hours since you went, can you describe what you're feeling?” he said as he took out a pen and notebook, which she scoffed at. “Look unlike you smaller creatures, a few hours of not going is nothing to me, I do not feel a thing. While you made me stop like 2 times I can keep going. Just to prove a point” she would resume drinking river water, large amounts even for her. After about a few minutes of drinking she would fall back on her butt and let out a loud belch, rubbing her now swollen stomach.” Ugh I may have overdone it feeling like crap now” “You know that was not necessary but who am I to stop you” he said as he was buried in his notebook. “Why not rest up so you can be ready for hunting at night potentially, running around with a stomach like that will surely make you vomit” he suggested. She glared at him but he was right, feeling sick and would cause her to move sluggish. Those words caused her to just lay down where she was and closed her eyes. This shocked Jackson, a Giant who took his advice when it came to moving about in the forest, taking note of this he would climb up high in the trees and get up a small camp there. He would open up a book and use this to pass the time and look over the notes he took. It would be about 24 hours ever since Demi took a piss all the water she had drunk since then sloshed inside her cavernous bladder, however it didn’t make a dent in it. At some point during the night she had gotten up having heard a large creature nearby, now fully recovered her skills would take hold. Jackson was fast asleep when she did this and would wake up to a nice surprise. It was morning and Jackson woke up, having a wonderful night's rest. He may be a rich posh elf but his roots are always the forest so he felt right at home. Looking down was shocked to see Demi who was slowly eating a gigantic snake, she would wave up at him. “Well well looks like your hunt worked out. I must say I am impressed” he praised her and caused her to blush. “Now do you still feel anything based on my sense of time? It's been 32 hours any creature would be begging for mercy at this point” he teased her. “Look this is really nothing old man I hope you have no plans for anything you may be here for days!” she said with a grin “As a matter of fact!” she placed down her meal and would drink a bit more water. Unknown to Jackson she would shudder slightly as her bladder was filled with 32 hours worth of piss. This was an unknown feeling to her while not urgent drinking water made the need spike. “What?! Already this is silly I shouldn’t be even feeling this!” she thought to herself. “So shall we carry about your day? After I get some of your food?” he pleaded with her as he climbed down, snake meat is something he hasn’t had in a while. “Yeah sure” she said while looking down slightly at her stomach, it wasn’t swollen at all but unknown to her it would reach a point she didn’t think was possible.
  15. yeaoksure

    Jodie... oh boy

    From the album: Yeah ok, sure ^^;;

    Another old thing from late 2020 of… basically the aftermath of another OC of mine having too much to drink. Waaaaaaay too much. …No idea what happened to the legs here, sorry 😂 Can’t draw shortstacks to save my life. And no doubt I went overboard on the dialogue... think I was super horny at the time xD
  16. I am moving this from the account I have on deviantart.com because I found out in their privacy policy that "no depictions of urine" are allowed there (understandable). So, here we are. If you want to get the preceeding fictions by chieftaindan and splashfics, you can, but I am no longer providing links to those literary works directly. ===ORIGINAL DEVIANTART POST=== Chapter 01: A Vacation Hello! I’m finally starting on this after writing down a plan. Anyway, shoutout to chieftaindan on Amy’s Pee Spree, and splashfics who fanfictioned a sequel: Amy’s “Second Wind.” Those two stories are precursors to this short starting chapter. It is short partially because I planned out a rather long story and don’t want to burn out trying to get it all down, but also because while writing it I needed to pee... Amy couldn’t understand it. She was sitting in her bathroom on Friday evening, reading a business email while she had her weekly pee, and had been pissing for about half an hour whilst trying to comprehend it. She usually would’ve moved on to cat videos by now, which made her laugh and thus finish pissing sooner. Though it sometimes made a water mess, she still liked to do it anyway because of how amazing it felt to pee even harder than her usual when she laughed. But right now she was mostly just confused, almost as much as an average woman would be if they were having her bladder to pee with right now. The email, no matter how much she tried to interpret it otherwise, was an alert that she was being given a complementary three day employee appreciation vacation to Otherland, all expenses paid. It wasn’t a scam, it was her job’s company email. She even clicked the link, which took her to her company’s employee-only page, verifying what she had read. How was this possible after only two weeks of workmanship? Amy was good, but was she that good? Surely this was a mistake. Nobody gets that much plush from their employer, do they? Plush. That reminded her of how she had left her last job. So much peeing in so many places... *Sigh* She was already wondering about doing a pee spree again. Not quite like last time where it was an act of revenge, though. She had readily felt very guilty about that. She almost wanted to go back and check to make sure everything was alright with the hotel, but that would probably give her away. She wrote her former employer’s wife a card, though. But she still wanted to pee in extraordinary places. She had filled all the watertight containers in her own apartment a few times, which was fun, but it wasn’t NEARLY enough capacity to empty a week’s worth of pee. If she drank extra, it might not even hold a day’s worth coming from her kidneys. She wanted to DO something with all that pee, not just shoot it down the white porcelain black-hole every Friday night like she didn’t appreciate her bladder’s amazingly well done work to keep her dry. But here she was, giving it no special treatments or challenges whatsoever, just emptying a tiny ONE week’s worth of pee into the drain. She was finishing up already. Drat, was she training her bladder to hold less? Desperately, she searched on her phone for videos of water and pee. Thankfully, a tickle soon appeared, and with some focused promotion, a full fledged blast came jetting out for another seventeen minutes. “There. I knew you wouldn’t let me finish so soon,” she cooed affectionately to her bladder as she continued to pee like a series of elephants, assuming they actually pee that much. Now, to think about that vacation… Meanwhile, some miles away in the town, a man was making a phone call after returning home from the lab. “Yes, they sent the email. She’ll be coming your way soon.” “…” “Heh, if they ever do find out, it’ll be in the next millennium.” “..!” “Alright, alright, I’ll cover some tracks, but…” “- …: ..!” “Don’t worry, they won’t find anything.” “… ..” “I’ll see that she gets to the airport.” “..” “Good luck.” *Clunk!* Chapter 02: Golden Cab With a smile on her face, Amy stepped outside the airport. It had been a pretty mild flight, except for when she had been selected for secondary screening, and now here she was in Lapis, Otherland. Incidentally, so was about a kilolitre and a half of pee that she had saved up before and during the flight, just in case of a special occasion (hence her accidental smirking when clearance had mentioned the 8 oz liquid limit, hence the secondary). Heading out to the row of taxis, one cab driver in particular got out and came to her directly. He looked kind, but a little anxious. “ACMEcab inc, may I take your bags, ma’am?” Amy was confused, but gladly accepted help. She had rather overpacked. “Uhh, sure. I’m going to the Blanxton Motel..?” “Blanxton Motel,” he repeated, “I know the way. Kind of an obscure little place at the edge of town. Nice view, though.” He hurriedly packed her bags in the trunk, then made one last look around before helping her into the cab. Something Told Amy to be wary about the situation, so as she got in, she checked that the child protection lock on the door was off. It was, and the door opened from the inside quite easily. The driver didn’t notice this check as he got in, and they were soon zipping along through low use roads. “This wouldn’t be the route I would’ve thought of taking,” Amy commented, turning to look outside and around them. Although they were in semi-homogenous suburbs, some of the building styles were very beautiful, and she even saw a family or two outside. There were a couple nicer cars driving around here too, which was unexpected for such an area. “Yeah, I know, right? Less traffic this way. Besides, I wouldn’t wanna spoil the sights for you while you’re on jet lag.” Amy couldn’t argue, the two second delay in most of her actions was preventative of sight seeing. “So, this your first time flying?” “Yeah,” she answered, “How’d you know?” “You look kinda full back there.” For a moment Amy thought that he was somehow referring to her bladder (which was feeling rather full with all the ups and downs of the road, and with her feeling so weary from the flight), then realized he was talking about her luggage. “Oh, yeah,” she said, embarrassed. “Don’t worry,” he encouraged her, “It’s an easy error to make. You should’ve seen… my early packing.” Amy didn’t understand why he had suddenly paused and gotten more quiet. She realized for the first time that he did not have an Otherlandian accent, and what’s more that she thought he was cute. But soon she was distracted by something else. An expensive car she was sure she had seen at least twice earlier had just appeared for the third time, and appeared to be loosely following them. She noted that the frontal windows were tinted. “You have a good time, alright?” the driver added in his usual tone. Amy changed the subject. “Can you take a right here?” she said. The car had repeatedly weaved in and out of the houses on their left, so maybe it was looking for something over there. “Umm, sure,” the driver said, and turned. Amy watched carefully, and sure enough, like a dreaming urge to pee, the same car slowly reappeared, following them on the left. She turned around, and took a deep, shaky breath as she subconsciously crossed her legs. They definitely were being followed. On top of that, all that stress was making her bladder contract, and she now needed to pee rather badly. Amy began searching for options to escape the ominous unknowns behind them, but what could she do? Was she absolutely sure this cab driver could be trusted? “Hey,” he asked unexpectedly, “did I leave my company manual under the front passenger’s seat?” Amy bent over to check, but as she did, she heard the sound of shattered glass above her twice. The cab driver swerved to the right unexpectedly, and picked up speed. “Get back up!” the driver said briefly. “What happe…” Amy started, before looking at the rear window and seeing two large shatter marks emitting from single points on the glass. Turning to look behind them, she saw the tailing car follow them down an alley, and a figure leaning out of it aiming a pistol at her?!?! That was too much. Without thinking, Amy started screaming, though somewhere in her mind she noticed that it seemed to be half from her mouth and half in her lower body. “Brace yourself,” the cab driver said, and made a series of illegal turns that took them onto a wider street. Amy leaned forward and grabbed the two seats in front of her, still yelling at the top of her lungs. “Please stop screaming,” the driver added with a sharp quick tone. A third shot struck them on metal. He picked up speed, then said, “Put your head between your knees: Brace for impact.” Amy began to do so, but immediately discovered something that would have been alarming if she had discovered it earlier. She was wetting herself, hard. She whimpered in dismay, but a sudden jerk of deceleration convinced her to obey anyway. She continued to pee, all over her lower head, unable to regain control. Thankfully, most of the stream was actually getting caught by her panties and skirt, flowing onto the floor from there. *Wham!* They rear-ended the other vehicle. The cab driver began to accelerate again, and took a turn off the main road. “Sorry about your luggage,” the driver said. Amy got up, ready to stop being peed on, but she noticed rather quickly that she had a lot to be thankful for. The passenger bay floor was already well over an inch deep in pee, a small waterfall pouring from her. “What’s that noise?” the driver asked, confused. “It’s my pee!” Amy answered helplessly. “Your what?” “My pee. I pee in ridiculously huge amounts!” she yelled as they overturned some garbage cans, the other car not too far behind. “Drat,” he said, “we’re too light to damage their car much. We need to get out of here. How?” *Bang!* another shot hit the glass. Amy turned around and screamed nonsensically, “Why are you shooting me?! What have I done?!” “They’re not shooting at you, they’re shooting at me,” the driver interjected, “Cappuccino wants you alive, and this proves it. These are local mercs, which means they’re dumb, but not dumb enough to shoot at me while your in the left hand seat.” The shooting outside continued. “They needed you to come here so they could kidnap you, which is why they sent you that vacation.” Amy stood still a moment in shock, trying to lean over and avoid bullets. “So this whole vacation is a lie? But what about my company’s email?” “Cappuccino has men that could’ve hacked into the system and made it look like a glitch. That they can do from anywhere in the world, so he picks the best.” The driver stopped explaining as a wave of pee overflowed onto his feet. He looked over his shoulder a moment, then asked off topic, “How’d you hold that much?!” “I pee A LOT,” was the despairing answer. “Bit it’s not possible…” he started to say, and trailed off. “I overflowed a swimming pool this month,” Amy explained. The driver looked back at her in utter disbelief, but as he saw the growing tide on the floor now submerging his shoes, he began to accept the notion that she was holding far more pee than she possibly could but somehow still was, and started making a plan. “Keep peeing,” he said, “I’ve got an idea.” With that, he made a move towards a different part of the area with more hills. “Wha-what do you mean?” Amy asked, helplessly obeying him. “How much do you think you can fill this car?” Well, that was unexpected. “Uhh, to the top I guess,” she answered, starting to regain control over her bladder. She was beginning to notice that none of the bullets had penetrated the glass, and suspected it must be bullet proof. “Alright,” he confirmed, “We don’t have time for that, but if you can get us to about half full with… pee (?!?!)… by the time we reach those hills, I think we can rear end these people hard enough to do some damage.” Amy looked down at her bladder, just beginning to shut off from regaining of control. “Alright,” she said. She pulled down her panties, and pissed for dear life. Harder and harder she peed, soon reaching her record speed of about 60 lpm. For once in her life, Amy actually needed to pee much harder than her usual. She pushed with all her might. Her face was blushed, her back was pressing hard against the seat, and she was groaning and squirming with the effort as the pee shot out like an industrial water cannon. Then she realized that the driver’s seat was deforming to the force of her jet. It was not hard backed, and that meant the cab driver was feeling every minute of this. With a loud, “aaAahaAAAH!” Amy’s sudden naughty thought motivated her bladder to new heights, letting her pee about 1.25x harder than before, and a little later that much again, until she was peeing at about 160% her usual strength (and she felt like there was still more she could do still). But before that, the pee had already risen up and caught the stream, her crotch soon underwater. This slowed the erotic sense down. Thankfully, however, she remained at about 160%, and after they had gained some distance up a one way street on a hill, the driver shouted, “Now!” Amy braced for impact (taking a deep breath first out of necessity as while the driver was only up to his waist, she was up to her shoulders in pee). With a gigantic slosh that submerged the dashboard momentarily, they stopped, then went into reverse, aiming for the other car. The trailers tried to avoid the shot, but not well enough considering the damage it would do to their vehicle. *WHAM!!* Amy felt pee flow past her closed eyes as their momentum offset her sense of balance, which frankly made her urethra a little nervous, and she started losing a little control again. Then she felt the car swerve around, and rose up out of her pee just in time to see the driver, now on the low end of the car, fumble for the door handle. He had been planning to drain it out this way, but obviously had misestimated just how much she had peed (having only a “front seat view,” she thought humorously). He did finally get the door open, and about 160-180 gallons of pee washed out onto the pavement. Amy gave an amazed/relieved sigh as she slowly regained control from the dizziness, and noted that the bad guys car was totaled. She didn’t have much time to look though as they were already driving away, towards something other than the Blanxton Motel. The driver was baffled. Amy finally asked, “So, who are you, anyway?” “CIA agent,” he answered, “My name’s Lawrence.” He turned around and smiled, though Amy could plainly see his veiled shock at her amazing bladder. Then, unexpectedly, he made a slight confused look downward, and rapidly turned away from her with a somber expression on his face. Before Amy could ask why, he explained in the rearview mirror, “You… forgot to pull up your panties.” Thank goodness she was wearing a skirt. Chapter 03: Kidnapping By the time the two had arrived at the beach house Lawrence had selected as a temporary stopping place for the night, it was nearing sunset. They were several miles from the airport or Blanxton, and had switched cars to help cover their tracks (and because the smell in the previous cab had been overwhelming, although strangely it did not smell quite like average pee as Lawrence pointed out, using public restrooms as an example. Amy had always assumed the pee in there was stagnant or something). Arriving at the garage, Lawrence pointed a general-purpose looking device at the garage door, and pressed a couple buttons. It began to emit a series of beeps, upon one of which the door opened. He pressed a red stop button, and the device halted the sequence. “Did you just break into a garage?” Amy asked. “Yes and no,” Lawrence answered, “This house is rented by the agency under a civilian alias. When an agent needs to use it, we have the tools to get in. The agency gets notified after the fact, so I don’t have to ask for keys to stay the night.” “Oh, good,” Amy said, shifting her weight, and not quite paying solid attention. All the adrenaline from earlier was still having its effects: It had either made her bladder tighten up and become temporarily more sensitive, made her process water a lot faster than usual, or probably both. Regardless, she was feeling an unusually finicky urge to pee, though it was thankfully nowhere near a state of emergency yet. After Lawrence had gotten all the doors rekeyed and bypassed the security system, Amy discovered to her dismay that there was only one bathroom. Lawrence saw her frustration and offered to let her shower first, but that was not the problem. It was her massive but currently out-of-sorts bladder. On any other day, the lone bathroom would have been no problem. But after that morning, she wasn’t sure if she could make it all the way through his shower. Her frightened bladder seemed a bit unpredictable right now, and even if he was a nice guy, she was not going to pee next to him while he was both completely naked and an almost-complete stranger. But there was no way she was going to make him wait and chafe while she went pee for who knows how long. With courageous determination, she insisted he go first, and that she was fine. Thankfully, he accepted without seeming to perceive her reasons. But she needed to pee. Amy was actually crossing her legs, and when Lawrence turned on the shower, she declared a state of emergency. Something about the shower head was making a loud splattering noise, and she could hear Lawrence saying something that sounded like it might be damaged. She didn’t wait to clarify though, she couldn’t wait. Her bladder was too nervous and full to hold on much longer. Squirming wildly, she waddled into the kitchen, hoping for a sink. Of course, there was one. She lifted her leg to climb up on the counter… “AAAAAH!” *Danger!* Forget that idea. She would have the floor soaked long before she even got up there. Desperate, she went back out to the living room to see if there was any way of peeing that she’d missed. The hot tub out on the balcony. The glass door was open in seconds, and with a great effort, she got the cover off the tub without leaking. Thankfully, there was a sort of step ladder for getting into the tub, so once she actually did have to spread her legs much, she was already over the - WHEEEE!!! *Splat! Rrrumble!* as her pee hit the plastic bottom of the empty hot tub. It felt sooo wonderful to be peeing, she almost fell, and loosely slumped down into the hot tub seat, slowly being covered in warm piss. This was much nicer than the taxi had been. The pee deflected off of her seat and hit the other side of the tub with a noticeable splashing. It filled up past her shoes (which she slowly kicked off), then up her calves (which tickled a little), then caught her stream on the in-between place (yikes! The warmth made her want to pee more), and slowly warmth-ed its way up her belly. It had been chilly drying off in the cars with the windows open, and this “hot bath” was just what she needed. But… Her stream was slowing down. She could feel it. As the pee edged to the top of the pool, it got slower and slower, until it finally stopped about an inch before the edge, just over her shoulders. “Huh, you’re kidding me,” she said wearily (for the exact opposite reason that most people would say it if their pee had just overfilled a hot tub), but she didn’t really care just then. The strange un-pee-like smell around her actually was comforting now that it was not so strong, and whatever was in her felt good to her skin. Maybe she could stay there for awhile. Wearily, she reached over and turned the heating system on. Good, the pee was a bit warmer than the default setting, so she wouldn’t overheat during the night. She slowly closed her eyes, her head falling back on the cushioned edge of the tub, and wondered if Lawrence would be done soon… “Alright, I’m out!” Lawrence said as he emerged from the bathroom with a towel over his face. “Listen, uhh, after you wash, do you want supper? Or are you just gonna go to…” He stopped when he saw Amy asleep in the hot tub, the lights glowing softly around her. She looked so serene and peaceful. Yes, she could stay there for the night. She wouldn’t fall. He would just sleep on the couch with his gun in case she needed anything. Funny though, they usually didn’t leave the hot tubs filled when no-one was staying here, but he was sure the beach house was unused. He would have to check that… In Amy’s Dreamworld… Amy was lying in a coffin after living she wasn’t sure how long, but it had been a good earthly life. Lawrence, her old buddy from that one vacation she had with the beach house in Otherland, was doing a speech, and it was really nice. All her coworkers were there, and even her boss who hadn’t changed a bit in like, 60 years (alright, maybe his hair was grey). The coffin was unusually hard, so she supposed the pillows must be cheaper than they looked, but it was nice and warm, strangely. Thing was she needed to pee. Now how’s a dead person supposed to get up and go to the bathroom? She would have to wait until the service was over, then she could go Home, but for now she had to wait. But, she needed to pee sooo badly, and it hardly mattered anyway. Maybe she could just let a little pee slip. Before she knew it, she was already wetting, heavily. Thankfully, the warm clothes seemed to be quite thick as well, slowing the pee down, but she realized to her dismay that, her body being dead, she had no control to stop. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to worry about drowning either. That was a relief. But what about the coffin overfilling? It would flow all over the front. Bother! She was going to indirectly pee all over Lawrence’s shoes! His nice, neat, CIA shoes and socks that he had just managed to get the stain out from last time. Already the pee was peeking up over the edges of the padding, (though somehow not submerging her head… oh, yes, the coffin must be tilted), and it began to spill out in Ernest soon after. She could hear it flowing down the stage, and then… how awful! Lawrence stopped, obviously shocked and sad about his shoes. The entire crowd gasped with shock (and some amazement), and there was a silence as pee continued to make trickling noises as it flowed thickly into the aisles. But suddenly there was a feeling of relief (emotionally, that is). It was like Lawrence had been disbelieved or verbally trapped before, and now everyone knew and understood at once just how much Amy really could pee, and Lawrence was vindicated. For those who already knew the story, the event was a nostalgic reminder. Conversation resumed in the chapel, but Amy somehow knew Lawrence was just quietly smiling, looking at his wetted shoes… Amy woke up slowly, and the dream faded away. She discovered to her confusion that she was still in the warm hot tub, and thinking it should be cooled off by now. Then she remembered that the tub was turned on. That seemed to explain the warmth, until she noticed that the reading on the thermometer was more than two degrees higher than the setting on the thermostat, and that pee was overflowing from the tub as she continued to wet herself (if that was possible). Not how? She had finished peeing last night, hadn’t she? Maybe the extra state of relaxation and the warm liquid all around her had made her more free to wet her proverbial bed. But how much had she peed after she had “finished?” Looking about for further explanation, she saw something that took her breath away. Trailing out from the balcony towards the sea was a wide stained area of wet sand, leading to ocean that had TURNED YELLOW!!?!?! Jumping up in shock and feeling the sudden pull of post-buoyancy combined with sleep and the coldness of evaporating pee from her skin, Amy was ten-to-one sure she was awake. She blinked her eyes, standing on the edge of the hot tub, and still peeing quite forcefully in her sopping wet clothes. The ocean remained as golden yellow as it could be. She followed the wet sand trail back up the beach with her eyes until they met with her still peeing lower self, and given the circumstances, did what was probably (even for her) the most natural thing in the world. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Lawrence immediately came tumbling out onto the porch, blanket tangled around his leg, almost breaking the door to get outside. He searched about a moment with his pistol, but identifying no threat, he turned to her. “What?! What’s wrong?” “Th-there, look!” she stammered as she frantically forced her stream to stop, and pointed at the ocean. Lawrence looked, and there was a moment of silence. “Oh, commodium…” he said, and Amy resumed screaming. Lawrence turned to her and said, “Look, it has to be local. You didn’t actually fill… Oh help!” just as he saw that the second thing she was screaming at was not the same as the first: A gruff looking gunsman had just rounded the corner of the beach house. Lawrence ducked down just in time, and quickly pulled Amy through the open doorway. A bullet from the perpetrator struck him in the arm as he did so. They both tripped on the blanket, and fell to the floor just inside the doorway. When Amy saw that Lawrence was wounded, and heard the shooter coming, she knew she had to do something, and she did the first thing she thought of. She pulled her panties to the side, clenched hard, and just as the man came round the corner, she let him know just how pissed off she was that they would shoot Lawrence at unawares. Literally, that’s how. Despite peeing all night to fill a hot tub and flood a beachhead with pee, Amy thankfully found her bladder not quite empty, and blasted a short tsunami of piss right into the attacker’s face as hard as she could. He stumbled back, and moved out of her jet stream. She halted it, having given Lawrence just enough time to aim his weapon… Amy covered her eyes and ears just before the bang came, and turned over before getting up and uncovering them again. Lawrence was also getting up, lightly bleeding in his left arm. “They must’ve seen the pee trail outside,” Lawrence said. “I should’ve guessed they’d be spying out the area after last night. We’ve got to get out of here.” They were moving through the kitchen to the front door as he spoke, but just as they were turning the corner, a sudden *pelt* noise from behind him made him stop. But it was not by his decision. Amy watched in horror as Lawrence’s body went limp. He turned to her as he fell, and seeing her despairing face, he said weakly, “Don’ worry, izz tranquilizer.” *flump* Oh, thank Goodness. *pelt!* “Ooh! Should’ve seen that comi-plff.” She said as she fell to the floor, unconscious. Chapter 04: The Prison When Amy awoke, she was quite dizzied. The tranquilizer was very slow in wearing off, and while conscious, she was at first very sluggish. On top of that, she was very thirsty. She sat up (or at least she was pretty sure it was up), and discovered that she was wearing a pair of 3D printed metal panties padlocked in place. She was sitting on a concrete floor in what looked like a bunker of some sort. Looking about, she discovered Lawrence, slumped against a wall with his eyes closed. “Lawrence?” she called to him. He did not respond. She got up, clinking rubble around as she did so, and moved over to him (at first she tried to stand, but almost immediately she fell back on her hands and knees from the lingering effects of the drug). “Lawrence? Lawrence?!” She felt his neck. He was alive, but still unconscious. All she got was some faint grunting. Why hadn’t he woken up yet, but she had? Wouldn’t he be more used to… Oh, right. The metabolism. Amy had almost always outrun drug effect time expectancies by a mile because of her super-kidneys, so this was no exception. The question was, when would he wake up? At that moment, the door to the cell opened. It appeared to be a reused ship’s door, particularly because of the crude looking concrete molding around it. The man stepping inside the cell was… the shooter from the beach house?!?! He had a stained bandage on his forehead that made him look like a Japanese WWII pilot. Amy scooted back in horror. “H-how did you not die from that shot?” she panted. He looked at her somewhat stoically. He seemed a bit blank. “I have a metal skullcap in the front of my head.” He chuckled lightly, and said. “It comes in handy,” before returning to a serious expression and saying, “You, come with me. The man of this house wishes to speak to you on diplomatic terms.” Amy slowly got up, and when she unsteadily arrived, he surprisingly held out his arm to support her. They walked past some guards, down a long flight of stairs, then out a small door into a decorative hallway, then into a side room with a desk. At the desk sat the most handsome thug one can imagine. When he saw Amy, he got up, and said, “Ah, thank you Rodrigo. Please, sit down miss.” He had a smooth Otherlandian accent. She warily took a seat. Rodrigo stood to the side and behind her as she eyed a large pitcher of clouded liquid with an empty glass next to it. “Are you thirsty?” he said with a creepy sort of politeness. “Yes…” she said slowly, “but why should I accept a drink from you?” He laughed. “A prudent first thought,” he said as he got up and began to pace, “but you must realize, miss, that I do not wish to kill you: I could’ve done so already. I very much want you to stay in the best of health, because of… my proposition.” Amy remembered what Lawrence had said. They wanted her alive. She would be safe for now at least. She poured herself a small glass of the liquid, which turned out to be some kind of enhanced water. After two sips, her body was already shooting up green flags and begging her not to be so cautious. She finished the drink quickly, and began to pour a second. “So, what is your ‘proposition?’” She asked slowly, starting the second glass. “Quite simple.” He started pacing again. “You, miss, have something that I could very well use, and which you would have a hard time using.” “And that is?” she asked, more than halfway done with glass #2. He chuckled as he said, “I will give you three guesses.” Amy paused on pouring the third glass. It was her pee. Was drinking really such a good idea right now? Yes, it still was. Her bladder was feeling much more stable now, and she was not concerned about wetting. She continued pouring, and asked, “And why would you want my pee?” He shrugged and replied, “That is a secret that I will keep to myself at this moment, but let me assure you, miss, that your safety would be absolutely guaranteed, though perhaps not in the location you would choose. I would do everything reasonable within my power to make you comfortable.” She set down the glass and huffed (mostly from having finished the drink, though, and not sarcasm). “And my other option would be?” “Then I let you go.” “Oh, really?” she said more than asked, examining the pattern on the cup. She poured another glass. “Yes. Unharmed. But you must understand that, wether you agree or refuse, I would be in a delicate position regarding your friend. He is an agent of the law. Did he tell you this?” From inside the cup, she answered, “Mm-hmm.” “Did he tell you why he thinks your pee would valuable to me?” “He doesn’t have a theory,” she said, drinking more slowly now, “or at least not that he’s told me. He certainly doesn’t know why, that’s for sure.” The man smiled knowingly and nodded. “Let me introduce myself. I am Cappuccino. I know that your friend was tailing my man at the laboratory before he found you. He told you this?” Amy’s face told Cappuccino he had. “Then I must ask you miss,” he said more slowly, “considering the fact that the reason why your pee was in fact discovered by the man he was tailing, and that it would be of interest to the government’s case, how it was that he did not discover it?” Amy paused. She trusted Lawrence, at least a little, and definitely more than this guy. But did she have a reason to trust him? Aha, Cappuccino himself just said that Lawrence was an agent of the law. “Maybe it was in Otherlandian,” she said carelessly. Cappuccino laughed. “He speaks six languages fluently,” he said, “He might speak more, but six is all I have encountered him with. He is an old acquaintance of mine.” “So you have agencies in six corners of the globe, while he works for my homeland security, and I should trust you?” “Simply because your government is just as interested in the usefulness of your pee as I am, but they have not been very trustworthy, and Lawrence is working for them. Look at your… Socialist Security I believe you call it. They told you when that first came out that it would never become your identity. And now, see where it stands.” He paused a moment. “Lawrence has sworn allegiance to them, has he not? Even if he wished not to, would he be able to refuse orders?” Amy took a long drink to avoid saying anything. What had happened with Social Security certainly wasn’t right, but how could she argue that Lawrence wasn’t like that? She had to decide to trust Lawrence. She did. “…to uphold and defend The Constitution Of the United States…” That was the key. Lawrence hadn’t sworn allegiance to the government at all, but rather to the Principle of Truth that it had been founded on, and Cappuccino knew it. He was lying through his teeth. Amy stubbornly folded her arms, and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Cappuccino but I’m not interested.” He burst out laughing. “Well, miss, I cannot say I am not disappointed, but I will try to keep my offer open as long as I can. However,” he said more quietly, trying to make her afraid, “I will be less kindly disposed to your friend if you refuse. You have 24 hours.” Amy instead thought about a growing tink inside her bladder. My goodness, she had drunk the entire pitcher of water and could probably still drink more given time. Cappuccino motioned for Rodrigo to take her away. She wanted to play with the desperation, but decided she had better pay attention as she returned to the cell. As they left the room, she began looking around at their surroundings. Glancing out a window, she recognized a building from one of the postcards at the airport, but she didn’t remember what the postcard had said. Maybe Lawrence would know. The stairs up to the bunker were fairly narrow, built of concrete and stone, and had a guard posted every so often. Amy looked at each one, trying to get profiles, weapon count, or anything that Lawrence might find useful. Unfortunately, they were moving rather quickly. Unexpectedly, Rodrigo said, “Do not worry, they will not hurt you unless you try to leave.” At first she wasn’t sure what he meant, but then she realized he thought she was afraid. Thankfully, she discovered that most of the guards were armed the same way, and she stopped looking. She did feel a bit sorry for Rodrigo, however. Whatever had happened to his head seemed to have handicapped him. He was not creepy like Cappuccino, and if he wasn’t working for the arms dealer, she might have actually liked him. They arrived at the bunker door, and she stepped inside to discover Lawrence was now awake. She hurried to his side as the door closed behind her. “It’s alright,” he mumbled, “I’m not gonna die or anything. I just hate tranquilizers.” Amy was flabbergasted. She wasn’t that easily frightened. “No, not that. I think I know where we are.” He looked up, genuinely interested. “Well, that would help a lot. All I can tell from the window is we’re on a coastline.” Amy proceeded to describe the building she had seen to Lawrence, and told him that Cappuccino was the man of the house. After a few more details, he knew that they were in his Marepolis residence. That meant heavy local guards, but a fairly easy escape by boat if they ever got out the front door. “…Now, how to do that,” he said, the effects of the tranquilizer beginning to wear off. After a moment, he chuckled. “What?” “I was just thinking, if…” he began, then paused. He grew serious. “Do you have an urge to pee, by any chance?” “Y-yeah, maybe. Why?” Lawrence pointed to the exit. “That door was meant to be airtight, but it’s been banged up so badly that I think there may be a leak or two. If you could flood the jail cell faster than it can leak out, so that pee sprays through the cracks, I think the guards will come to investigate. Cappuccino doesn’t tell his men much from my experience.” “…And the door opens from the outside,” Amy said, beginning to understand. But there was no way she needed to pee that Mitch from one pitcher of… Eh, might as well give it a shot. Amy rolled over onto her back, and bore down on the tickle of desperation that had started to form. It wasn’t long before she was very much ready for a piss. She was about to let loose when Lawrence yelled, “Stop!” He moved over, and began hammering the pantie’s lock point with a loose rock. Phew, close call. That would’ve hurt quite a bit. The cheap metal printing soon broke, and Lawrence stepped a pace away with his back turned. “Go for it!” he said. She removed the metal craft and found herself (Whoops). Then she let it rip! A gushing shot flew across the room and hit the door a split second later, cleaning off the debris that had probably been on it since before it was installed. The floor of the jail cell was soon being covered by an enlarging puddle that was thankfully still warm when it reached Amy. This was far more liquid than had been in the pitcher already, and she hadn’t even metabolized all of it yet. But it didn’t matter how this was possible right now. She began to piss harder, and harder again, pushing to get the cell flooded as fast as she could. But even with her best efforts, it might be too dark to find their way out of the city by the time it was full. She needed to hurry! What could she do? “Amy, you naughty girl, you…” She turned sideways, and hit Lawrence on his back. He gave a stunned shout as it knocked him face forward into the rising flood of pee all around him. She changed her angle again, arching her body to make the spray hit the ceiling above him. Emerging a second later, he exclaimed bewildered, “What did..?!” but Amy couldn’t wait for him to finish before thought of the pee showering on his confused head made her burst out laughing. It wasn’t long before she stopped though, gasping with wide eyes from the sensation of the sheer volume she was peeing! She was now completely opening her urethra, restricted by its physical limit, but she did continue to pee harder and harder. Just as she was feeling a lull, Lawrence stood up again, and made the mistake of habitually starting to turn around. She aimed, and hit him square in the face. “Ah ah ahh, no peeking, remember?” she giggled before heaving erotically again. He got up and groaned, but from the tone of the groan he wasn’t annoyed, just playfully bewildered. Amy was having to sit up to keep from drowning now, and it was getting uncomfortable, so she carefully got to her feet. As she did so, however, she misestimated the force her own water rocket would have on her. “Whoa, whaa!” She staggered back and fell down with a huge splash. Lawrence turned to church if she was okay, carefully guiding his eyes. The foam around her urethra and the clingyness of her wet skirt made it almost impossible for her to be revealed now, so she didn’t much care. When he saw her condition, he laughed and said, “Eh, one point for me then, huh?” Amy narrowed her eyes, and as she got to her feet again, turned sideways and got a good shot at him by falling back down again. She caught herself, and arched upward to keep her head above water, continuing to aim at Lawrence. He moved, she moved. Since he was moving linearly and she pivotally, it was not so hard to keep up as to keep upright (for both parties, actually). Lawrence yelled, “Hey, cut it out! You got me.” “You have to tag me!” She yelled back. Man, it was getting loud in here. Lawrence turned with a sly but determined look, and marched toward Amy, splashing about almost knee deep now. Within 15 feet, he was slowing down as she continued to target him dead on. 10 feet, it was reduced to a crawl. 6 feet, she revigorated her pissing efforts. 5 feet, 4 feet, three and a ha… With a loud yell and flailing arms, Lawrence could no longer keep his balance while the beautiful girl continued to blast him with unthinkable amounts of pee. He fell backwards, making a satisfying splash in the surrounding flood. Amy burst into giggles, and tried to continue aiming for him, but soon found her arms and legs weakening. With some sort of break even point, the thought of knocking him over with her pee after already peeing so hard had made her piss hard enough that the feeling of relief was so strong it was making her piss harder by itself. After about three seconds she was already panting desperately, barely able to stay upright as her piss roared across the room! By six seconds, she couldn’t tell wether she was lowering into the warmth around her or it was coming up to meet her, but regardless, with what felt like all the relief of her life combined happening in her lowers, it was all she could do to take a desperate gasp of air and hold it in while her head went under. For about 4.5 seconds, she was underwater, jerking about as she tried to keep her breath in and piss at the same time. It was more adrenaline driving than one time when she had fallen off the edge of the pool backwards into the deep end, but mostly because it felt… so… amazing… She quickly emerged with a much halted stream, though, as pee had gotten up her nose. ===END OF ORIGINAL DEVIANTART POST===
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