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  1. Fem_olivia from PH. Small Dick Femboy PISSING In Panties [650f95a88b772].mp4 Another one in lingerie Sissy in Lingerie Soaks Themselves With Their Own Piss [ph61ad2173146e1].mp4
  2. Are there any stories where a guy is forced into diapers by wife or girlfriend? Most of the ones I can find involve sissy themes or magic but that’s really not my thing. I’m just looking for forced diapering for punishment or accidents. With loving themes not cuckhold/ sissy or anything like that.
  3. So I had a pretty erotic experience with my girlfriend last week. I give her oral sex a lot, and as we were about to begin she said that she had to pee. I told her she would have to hold it, and since she understands and even partakes in my fetish she became very excited and got imposition for me to eat her out. As my tongue went up and down her pussy, I could tell she was struggling to hold it the way she was grabbing onto my hair and squirming. We also use handcuffs a lot, so that made it even harder for her to contain herself. She said she had started to leak a little bit, and her nether regions were definitely feeling a lot wetter than usual. But naturally I kept going, licking her all over until she I could tell she was reaching orgasm, and I tasted something I’ve never tasted before while doing this. I could tell by how wet she was and by this new taste that she had peed, which she confirmed for me once the orgasm had finished racking her body. Indeed, when we got up there was a decently sized puddle on the bed beneath her, meaning it wasn’t just a quick squirt that happened – she fully let loose as I was pleasuring her, which we both found incredibly sexy. After that I laid down beside the pee puddle, while she returned the favor on me with her own mouth until I also came as well, thinking about the amazing experience I just got to be a part of. I’ve attached some pictures we took after her little accidents, as well as links to her X account and her fansly. Like I said she indulges in the fetish as well and you can expect to see more peeing and wetting content from her as a result of this most recent bedroom adventure. https://x.com/goddesslissa007?s=21&t=OgKjj7Z4FKMqCYM2wv_1Bw Http://fansly.com/Goddess_Lissa
  4. There's no toilets in the metro cars and he REALLY needed to go... the floor will have to do...
  5. So, I remember one day several years ago, I was with my girlfriend of the time, and we were kissing and fooling around, and she was rubbing her knee between my legs. I slightly knew I had to pee, but I was more so ready to sleep with her. but she was not in the mood for that. She just wanted to get me turned on and send me home. I was all for that also. And I remember standing in her living room ready to leave, and holding her as she rubbed her knee in my crotch and french kissed me. I was so turned on I was ready to explode. All of the sudden standing there I felt the feeling of no control. I decided I could not stop it anymore and because I had no chance of sex, I would just cum in my pants. As I let go instead of cum, I stood there peeing my pants. I was soaked all the way down to my knee on my right leg. I could not believe it. I have never done that before or again. I was slightly embarrassed because at that time I had only peed my pants in private. This was the first time another adult ever (that I know of) watched me pee my pants. Well she did not watch as she was kissing me, but I am sure she felt it. And when I left there was no hiding it. She sat on the couch as I walked out the door peed pants and all. Has this ever happened to anyone else? It has never happened again so far.
  6. A few weeks ago I had a bad accident in front of a friend due to my problems with being pee shy. I had agreed to help a guy who is a landscape gardener and we had to spend a couple of hours at this property. We had lunch first at a cafe and I had two cups of tea. It was cold and that would eventually fuel my need to urinate. Sometimes my pal Kevin knows the householder and often gets invited to have refreshments and the opportunity to use the toilet. But on this day the woman wasn't at home. I asked Kevin if we would be finishing soon and explained I needed to pee. H said he wouldn't be long and said to go behind a tree if I was that desperate. I declined because I knew I would have trouble urinating with someone close by. Even in a public toilet I have to go into a cubicle. So I told him I would be okay and just struggled on. As we were packing up I was at about 8/10and I was worried about how long the journey back would take. " Think I might just have that quick pee, " I exclaimed and drifted into the bushes as far away from him as I could. I'd just whipped it out when I heard a dog barking and the kitchen lights went on. The owner was back and now there was no way I could empty my very full bladder. I zipped up quickly. " Too late chum you should have gone earlier. We'll be back in 15 minutes, " said Kevin. The problem was that because we had finished later the traffic was much heavier than usual. As we slowly drove along I was now at a 9/10 and really concerned that I wouldn't hold it in. Kevin was giggling because of my plight and said his little boy could hold it better than me. That didn't help! I just couldn't keep still but was resisting that real urge to squeeze my cock through my jeans. Then disaster struck and a small jet of pee went into my boxers. I forgot my embarrassment and instinctively grabbed at my privates through my jeans and dare not let go. "Bloody hell mate ... just hold it!" said Kevin. "I'm trying to I exclaimed," as more piss escaped and I could feel the wetness. "I'll try and find somewhere to pull over," said Kevin. But we were in a residential area and it was difficult. At least I knew my pee shy would not be a problem now. I somehow held it in for another few minutes and Kevin drew into my road. Then an excruciating pain hit my bladder and I just lost control and peed in my jeans. I squeezed my legs tightly together to stop it soaking through to my bottom and the seat but it was not very effective. Kevin was very sympathetic and told me not to worry. He actually confessed that he had done it once waiting for the toilets at a concert which mad me feel better
  7. I had a recent experience where I completely lost control of my bladder that I hadn't done in over two decades and it's been on my mind ever since so I wanna share it here in case anybody else will enjoy reading it. One morning, I went out to my kitchen in nothing but my underwear, a pair of briefs. Nobody was home so I didn't really care. I just wanted a quick snack. I hadn't used the toilet in a while but I wasn't thinking. Then I heard someone coming home and I didn't think fast enough to dash to my room, so the person was no doubt going to see my practically naked self run into my room and I did not want that. So I went into the garage. I planned on staying in there until I was 100% sure the person was back in their room. It was then that I realized I had to pee really badly. I was frantically walking around practically holding my p**is closed and occasionaly putting my ear to the door to see if I can hear a presence in the kitchen. But the heater was in the garage and was VERY loud so this proved difficult. I eventually just decided I'd stay in there until the urge went away and THEN leave since I knew it would take a while. Better safe than sorry. This did not happen at all. I could not stop how badly I felt I wanted to pee and it only got worse. After dancing around uncontrollably and a few spurts coming out, I decided screw it and was gonna grab an empty detergent container to pee inside. However the urge was so bad that as soon and I slipped my boxers down, reflexes kicked in and I just started uncontrollably peeing on the garage floor. At this point I just let it go feeling a mixture of extreme relief, disbelief and embarrassment, but also euphoria and even arousal at what I was doing. The stream went on for an absurdly long time and truth be told once it was over I wanted to masturbate right then but I kept myself and just completely emptied my bladder. It was so bad that eventually i didnt even feel anything despite pee pouring out. I cleaned up the puddle with lots of floor cleaner and a mop obviously, and then took a shower, but the entire experience stood out on my brain long after the fact. There is this japanese omorashi author i followed for a while named Shimosaka Nigoru 「しもさか にごる」that had released a decent amount of manga on dlsite under the group (studio fd) and their stuff, in my opinion, most captured the feeling I felt in that event. Anyway thanks for reading if you did, and I hope you guys give shimosaka some support. Yes this was all kind of a roundabout way for me to spread awareness of their works lol
  8. I'm curious for some of your underwater peeing stories!! Pool, ocean, bathtub, doesn't really matter, bring it on! I rarely see this topic of omorashi brought up and it's one I really like, let's see what you got! ^w^
  9. I'd love to meet guys for omo related activities. The activities could be strictly omo related or sexual in nature with the right chemistry. I am hoping to find guys on the east coast. I am based in Washington DC and would be willing to travel a reasonable distance to meet.
  10. Hello! I have had a busy couple of months, but things have finaly calmed down again. I have been meaning to post this for a while, but i keapt getting distracted. I could post in my regular bedwetting picture thread, but i felt it was getting a bit long. Anyway, this January i had a huge uptick in accidents, i almost every night for 2 weeks straight (unusual for me). While this was admittedly exciting i was also a little concerned, but it tapered off around the end of February. This is really embarrassing, but i wanted to post these pictures of my bedwetting tracker for you all to see... right now im only waking up wet once or twice a week. That being said, i did wake up wet this morning. please enjoy this picture of my wet sheets...<3
  11. Hi, all! I'm having a holding contest with @Kiwi_Rebecca_C! In about five minutes, we're both going to pee, then we'll get started by drinking 1 liter of water each.
  12. Was hanging out in my soaked jeans and decided to do a photo shoot 😁 Warning: I show off my penis in the last two pics!
  13. As a follow on from one of my previous posts trying diapers/nappies for the first time, I thought I'd post some pics of my first experience with pull-ups. I was really impressed with the comfort and discreetness, but I did have a bit of leakage. I don't feel that they fit quite as snug as they should do around my legs. I'm 30-32 inch waist (depending on the day of the week😂) So I opted for medium. I should probably try a few more brands and perhaps some different sizes to get a real feel for them. If anyone has any recommendations, please feel free to share. All the best, Lukey x
  14. Well, starting the day as I mean to go on. It's going to be a "No Toilet" day today so thought I'd kick off with my morning pee in the shower. Should I keep these on or change and wet from dry for my next pee? Wetting White In The Shower-1.mp4
  15. Hi gorgeous people! Here's a bunch of assorted pics from some of my most recent wetting experiences. I hope you enjoy them 😄
  16. My first post on here is evidently going to be that story I've been writing, which I can't really share with anyone, but I don't feel like I can post it on my Literotica either. It's called "Chib" because I didn't know what to call it so I closed my eyes and picked out random letters on the keyboard. Some of my literotica characters are from this story; Pia, Azri, May, and later, Saoirse. It also ties directly into my other fiction/short stories; Saoirse knows Arthur, and May is related to Digitalis. ___ Part 1 The world had a green tint to it, and everything was blurry. He felt weightless. "If you want this unit it's yours for a tenth of a credit - it'd be free but we can't technically *give* it to you," said a voice. "Boss says you just have to haul it way before five today." "How long has it been here?" asked a second voice. "No idea. Longer than I have?" said the first voice. "I've worked here all of maybe two weeks though." "Right," said the second voice. "Well, it looks mostly intact, at least. I'll take it." "Pull your tow around the front and we'll load it on," said the first voice. The two voices trailed off over the next minute, and he wondered where he was. It was cold and very still. The world shook, but he didn't. There was something rectangular in front of him, with a square of light near the top. The world jostled again and the voices were back, muffled. Everything was dark. He couldn't open his eyes and he didn't know what woke him. He could see through his eyelids that it was slightly lighter than it had been before, and he could hear metal creaking, and the steady drum of footsteps from somewhere close by. "Still full of fluid, that explains a lot-" He took a moment to recognize the voice that had spoken: the second voice from before. It was feminine and sounded young. "Oh no. No, no, no." The second voice trailed off again, along with the footsteps. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. The darkness returned, fading in quickly. "So...why do you need *my* help?" said a new voice. It was another feminine voice, slightly deeper, with a slower cadence. "It's a tank of body soup by now, assuming that was even a real person floating in it. Have you called-" "He's still alive, Azri," groaned the second voice. "I saw him move!" He opened his eyes. The square was light again, and this time there were two figures in it. One was a young human woman with green hair and blood-red eyes that glinted in the weak light. The other was obscured in the shadows behind her. "The last inspection sticker on it is from six years ago," said the other voice, concerned. "Bubble, nothing is going to survive that long in a junked med module with no power." "He moved, I saw it," insisted the second voice, as the green-haired woman's mouth moved. The square of light suddenly changed shape, and he realized that the shape in front of him was a door, with a square window in it. The door was opening, and light flooded his eyes. It stung his eyes, and he reflexively tried to cover them. Both arms did move, just very slowly "Oh wow..." "See what I told you?!" said the second voice - the girl with the green hair. He awoke crumpled on the ground, cold but unable to shiver. Something hooked him under his left shoulder and pulled him up. He couldn't seem to open his eyes, but as he was lifted he could feel a warm body and dry clothes against his skin. "It's important that we keep him upright," said the new voice. "There's a table next to the tank. Put those poles under his armpits." He felt himself being lifted again. "If he's been in here for six years, how is he so fat?" grunted the second voice. "It's common for people to bloat up after a long time in hydrostasis," said the new voice, sounding vaguely bored. "We'll need to get all that fluid out, or it could be a big problem." He wanted open his eyes and speak to the two others, but he couldn't. As hard as he tried, his body stayed limp, pulled down by gravity. He felt himself sliding onto a hard surface, with something under his arms. He opened his eyes. The green-haired girl was leaning over him, looking concerned. "Is he awake, or did his eyes just get...gas...bubbles? Or something?" "I don't know," said the new voice, as a second person leaned into view. The owner of that voice was a woman with light blue-green skin, odd fin-like ears, shoulder-length dark green hair, and sleepy metallic silver eyes. "You awake, little friend?" He tried to take a breath and choked on it. He started to cough, but instead of air coming out of his lungs, he expelled a large amount of fluid all over himself and the green-haired girl leaning over him. She recoiled, allowing the next wave of lukewarm fluid to splash freely over his cold, naked body. "Looks like you're back in business, kiddo," said the green-skinned woman, approaching him. She slid a hand behind his back and sat him up. He coughed again, hard enough to make him gag and vomit a thick dark green fluid from his belly all the way down his legs. His vision began to fade a little and he leaned back, panting. He could still feel fluid in his lungs, but it was much easier to breathe. "Great job! You're stronger than I thought," said the green-skinned woman cheerfully. "I thought we'd have to hang you upside down by your ankles." "What was the problem you were talking about, Azri?" asked the green-haired girl. "The one that had to do with how bloated he is?" Through the sudden exhaustion from the coughing, he felt a little stung. He looked down at himself: he was a little chubby, but didn't think he looked bloated, and the thick dark liquid was spattered down his front, giving his blue skin a sickly gray tint. "The stasis fluid has permeated his cellular membranes, and it stays in certain cells longer than others," said Azri. "It's not harming him now but it'll need to be flushed out." The green-haired girl eyed him. "That sounds complicated. Are you sure you don't want to take him with you to the clinic, so you could monitor him and stuff?" "I think it's best if he stays here, actually," said Azri after a moment of thought. "Call me if you have any emergencies, of course, but as long as he stays hydrated he should be fine." "Is there room at the clinic?" "We don't really take overnight patients, we just arrange transport to the hospitals in Shell Bay or Chocolate Smudge," said Azri. "I'll come over here and check on our little friend here in the mornings and evenings though, and I'll bring extra food." She pulled a foil pouch out of a bag on her hip and handed it to the green-haired girl. "Make sure he drinks all of that. He's not going to need any special medications, but he'll have to drink a lot of water over the next six months." "It's a good thing I bought a new evaporator module last week, then," sighed the green-haired girl. Azri used a small penlight to examine his eyes. "You awake, little friend?" He gave her a small nod. "Little? He's taller than I am," said the green-haired girl. "Or is that some medical term I'm not aware of...?" "It's a figure of speech," sighed Azri, leaning over to examine his body. "It doesn't translate very well from my dialect at home -- it's closer to the word 'cute' I guess." The green-haired girl glanced over at him. "Cute?" "Cassiopeia, that's enough," Azri reached down and brushed some of his hair off his face. It came off on her hand as discolored green sludge, breaking down quickly. She wiped it off on the sterile white wall. "Oops...sorry about that. How are you feeling? I'm glad we were able to get you out of that tank before you turned into corpse soup." "Azri," groaned the green-haired girl. "Pia's right - I guess you'd be more of a thick corpse stew." Azri bent over him, extending her hands and gripping his face. Her hands were cold, sending a brief shiver up his spine. She brought her face to his, pressing their foreheads together, closed her eyes, and an odd tingling sensation spread down his face from where their skin touched. After a few long, uncomfortable seconds, Azri pulled away and stood up, wiping her head with her sleeve. "What's your name? Do you remember?" He tried to remember his name and couldn't. He felt alarmed, but his face was too heavy to express it. "Don't strain yourself," said Azri seriously. "Your life depends on it for the next month or two." It wasn't hard to follow Azri's instructions; the pouch had a straw. The water felt good in his throat, and he drank eagerly. Pia was awkward about it, but he didn't notice. "Good," said Azri when he'd finished. "Now, I've got to get back. I can carry him back to your skiff." Azri was much stronger than Pia had been, lifting him easily. She had an odd smell to her, which intensified as a metallic creak rang out in front of them. Pia held the door as Azri stepped outside. The daylight was blinding, and he squeezed his eyes shut against Azri's shoulder. "Sorry, bubble," said Azri. "I forgot it was so bright out here...Pia, pull one of the cloth bags out of my pocket and put it on his head, please." The sharp way Azri had said that was slightly jarring, and he couldn't see what was going on, but it was a small relief when a light cloth fell over his face. They walked a short distance before the unrelenting sunlight dimmed. "Where should I put him?" "In the bathroom," sighed Pia. He opened his eyes when the cloth fell: he was in a slightly cramped cabin on a small air vessel. He didn't know how he knew that, and passively observed as Azri set him down on the floor in a bathroom. The whole room was tiled, with showerheads on two walls, a small window near the ceiling, and a sink and toilet in the corner nearest to the door. "I recommend that he stays in the bathroom until he can walk on his own," said Azri, standing up gracefully. He saw that Azri was considerably smaller than Pia, but this didn't really surprise him: Amphibious people like Azri tended to be much stronger than other human-like species. How he knew that, though, he couldn't remember. "How long will that be?" asked Pia. Azri eyed him. "Anywhere from one to four hours. He was floating around in some pretty high-quality stuff, and he's in amazing shape. There's some possible discoloration on his face, limbs, and his penis, but it's too early to tell whether that's permanent." Pia glanced down at him. His body wasn't quite as heavy as it had been just a few minutes before, and he was able to look down at himself. He was still spattered in the dark fluid he'd vomited up, and he couldn't even see what color his penis was underneath it. He couldn't feel any pain there, but he couldn't feel much else in his body, either. "I said 'possible' discoloration, I'm sure it's fine. You should at least be functional to pee, which you'll be doing a lot," said Azri. "Now, before I go, all you really need to remember is to stay hydrated and don't strain yourself. I'll be back in the morning to check on you, and until then, Pia will take good care of you." She said a cheerful goodbye and breezed out, leaving him alone with a very confused Pia. "Well uh..." said Pia. "Can you wash yourself?" After an awkward but thorough wash, Pia helped him scoot onto a folded towel. He could move his arms and legs but his finer motor control was still lagging. He had a glass of water, and sat back against the tile wall while Pia searched for clothes for him. "These should be big enough, I hope," said Pia. He was able to dress himself with some help. "Think you can stand up?" He took a breath to speak and coughed again. He nodded and Pia braced herself. She helped him to his feet, and they found his legs fairly steady. Surprisingly, he was a head taller than Pia, and it made her seem small. He was beginning to regain feeling in his toes. The sensation was glorious, and he just stood there enjoying it until he noticed a rushing sound. He looked down and saw that he was urinating. He couldn't even feel it, but he was spraying Pia's feet with a strong, distinctly blue jet. Pia raised the hem of her skirt a little to keep it out of the way. "I'm-" he hacked out. "I'm sor-" He couldn't form the words. "I know. It's alright. All I have to do is rinse my feet," sighed Pia. "You know, Azri told me off for wearing sandals today. Please don't tell her this, but I don't regret my choice of footwear at all." She looked down and watched the puddle spreading around them. "Feeling better?" He gulped and shook his head. "I can't-" he coughed. "-feel it." "That's unfortunate," said Pia. "Your first pee in years and you can't even feel it." She helped him remove the shorts and threw them in the wash. Pia led him out into the main cabin of her skiff. The bathroom opened directly to the kitchen area, with the counter and sink sitting opposite the outside door. Further beyond, a wall divided the room into a wide hallway on the left, and a small living area on the right. He could see all the way up to the ship's bow, its wide ovular windows blocked off by folding screens. Pia sat him down on her couch. "Are you alright here for the next minute or two?" asked Pia. He nodded. "Good. I'll be right back with some clean shorts." Pia retreated up the hallway and returned with a pair of shorts and a sheepish expression. "These are my only clean pair right now," she said, as though it explained everything. It did not, but they seemed like nice enough shorts. "I think I'm done being productive for today," sighed Pia, handing him another glass of water as she sat down on the couch. He carefully held it up and drank it: he couldn't feel his fingers yet, but he could move them. "Wanna watch My Little Targ: Honor Is Magic?" "My little-" he coughed. His voice was deep and scratchy. He took a breath and switched to a whisper: "What's that?" The show Pia had picked was animated with a well-written, fairly simple plot that was easy to follow. He watched it for a while, until his throat started to get dry again. He looked over at Pia, who stood up. "Water?" He gulped and nodded. "Gotcha. Want some instant noodles?" He fidgeted; he was still fairly numb and couldn't tell whether or not he was hungry. "I'll make you some anyway. If it turns out you don't want it I'll just eat it." Pia poured him another glass of water and started the kettle, taking out two bowls and sitting down next to him while she waited for it to boil. "So, what do I call you? Do you remember your name?" He drank the glass of water in a single gulp, shaking his head. "Is there a name you like? Like Tyrone? Bill? Baron Marius von Fundshauser the fifth?" "...What?" Pia snorted. "We'll watch that series next...but anyway, what would you like to be called? You keep just getting referred to as 'he' and 'him' here and it's getting confusing." He took a deep breath; he suddenly needed to pee. "I'm Pia, by the way. Short for Cassiopeia. The tiny amphibious lady that carried you here is Azri." Pia held up one hand and he raised one to meet it. Pia's hands were small compared to his. "Tiny?" "Yeah dude, you saw her yourself. She barely goes up to my shoulder. She's a little...weird...all the time but she's a good doctor and a good friend." Over on the counter, the kettle started whistling. Pia hurried over and poured the water into the bowls she'd brought out. After setting a timer on her oven Pia sat down next to him. "Cyan?" "Cyan?" Pia repeated. "For a name," he said, shrugging. "Because I'm blue, I guess?" "Cy for short?" asked Pia. "I like it." "Yeah," said Cyan. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Cyan." "You too, Pia," said Cyan.
  17. Preface I haven't written anything in almost 2 years, but I got the sudden urge to get back to it. If I ever write, it usually ends up being something omo-related for some reason. I began this story a few weeks back and haven't posted it because I didn't think it was going to be very good; I was kind of hoping I would shake off my rust in the process. I have decided now that it probably is worth posting it, just to get some feedback and share it in case someone might enjoy it. I didn't take much time to do any world building or planning, so I kind of jumped into writing without knowing where it will go. Expect plot holes and other such issues. The story is sort of inspired by the hunger games, depicting a semi-dystopian world where it is standard for those who lack money or have debt to be forced into participating in a large-scale holding contest funded by the wealthy class. I will post the story chapter by chapter. I already have a lot written so the first few posts are already set in stone (except for minor editing), but once that gets exhausted, I will start posting as I write. I am very much looking for feedback on how I can improve. Please do not hesitate to tell me what I am missing. Enjoy! Chapter 1 He stood staring transfixed at the tablet screen, his finger trembling slightly above the agreement button, hoping for something to happen, some miracle that would give him another choice. If he pressed the button, there would be no going back. Sharp words suddenly cut through his thoughts, waking him from the trance. “There’s a whole line of people waiting, hurry up lad, we need to get through everyone today,” the man demanded, his eyebrows meeting in collective irritation. As if the decision wasn’t hard enough as it was… His heart began to beat faster, knowing the person behind him would soon start hurrying him as well, but the pressure only blurred his certainty. He closed his eyes, thinking back to how he got here in the first place. Little money, an apartment he would soon no longer be able to pay for, and out of a job. He only had his dignity to sell, and there was one place where such a thing could be sold: where he stood now. He would find some way to recover from this, he had to. He wasn’t the only one in line out of necessity. Yes, that was it. Surely others would understand why he had to do it. Clinging on to this newfound clarity, he pressed the green “agree” button on the tablet. The man behind the desk nodded to the left, telling him where to go. He turned without a word and walked past the desk through a doorway, entering a dimly lit theater cramped with crimson velvet seats. It was sparsely filled – he was one of the first in line to sign up – but in the next hour, there would not be a vacant spot left. He entered one of the few non-empty rows and sat down next to a black haired lady. She looked to be about his age, early 20s, but she was leaned over, her face buried in her hands as if she were crying, so he couldn’t tell for sure. “So, what made you sign up?” he asked, not looking at her. She lifted her head, slightly startled. He caught an irritated look from her in his peripheral vision. “No other open seats?” she muttered back. “Not talkative I see, I just wanted to make a friend. If you’re here for the same reason I am, to win and get some money, then you should be wanting the same,” he said. “It’s a game of endurance, and only one person truly wins, there is no point in allies,” she replied dismissively. “There are runner-ups, and everyone gets paid for participation either way. But also, you’d be naive to say that allies aren’t needed. It isn’t only endurance, there is potential for sabotaging other teams, or finding ways to increase your chances. In that case, allies could be very helpful,” he persisted. Something shifted in her eyes at that, some tension left her muscles. “You want to win, go find someone else to ally with. I can’t help you,” she mumbled quietly, looking away now, not at all the tone she had a moment ago. “Hey hey, don’t you give up. We can win this, we can make the top 2 and we’ll figure it out from there,” he continued, risking to rest his hand atop hers. He felt her twitch subtly, but then she relaxed. “The whole world is going to see me, laugh at me. You try so hard to build an impression, an image of yourself, and then this…” she cried. “Yes, but let’s show them that we can persevere, show them that their stupid games don’t affect us,” he said. In truth, he felt exactly like she did, and like everyone else who slowly filled the room probably did as well, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “I hope you won’t be devastated if your hopes collapse, usually people with your kind of energy take it the worst. I have the advantage, I am expecting to lose, as much as I don’t want to,” she said. He hesitated for an instant, his stomach dropping out from under him at the thought of failure, the scenario he had been avoiding imagining. But then he shoved that truth off the table, and turned back to the page of perhaps irrational but much more comforting optimism. “I’m prepared to lose,” he lied, “but it doesn’t mean I won’t try my hardest to win, and it doesn’t mean I won’t believe in the unlikely until the very end.” She exhaled a dry laugh, “I wish I had your attitude. Either way, you are right about one thing, I do need to try to win this thing, and you aren’t giving up on me, so, I’ll bite. I’m Jessica.” She shifted in her seat to face him, and he did the same. “Robert, pleasure,” he replied, a smile forcing itself across his face. “So, what brought you here, you never said?” Jessica sighed – a sound he was quite familiar with. “I fell for the whole student business. I knew some friends who went to pursue university, saw them succeed from it, figured it was the way. I realize now that it was a scam. It works for those who already have it good, those who simply enjoy learning more. Not those who are going there to make it. Anyway, I'm stuck with debt I cannot repay, and those assholes at the financial department didn’t even bother being subtle, they just straight advertised signing up for this competition, telling me it was the only way out if I couldn’t pull the money out soon.” She paused, looking at the floor. Robert let out an appalled laugh, “Wow... Yeah, they aren’t even hiding it anymore. The company that owns my apartment complex at least had the decency to apologize after suggesting it.” “But that's alright, we’ll show them, we’ll play in their little show, and we’ll take their money for it,” she declared half-jokingly, though with a newfound energy she certainly did not have at the beginning of the conversation. Robert thought that even if they didn't win, at least he succeeded in lifting her spirits. He took a moment to look around the theater and noticed that it was full now, as he expected, not a single vacant seat in sight. The lights dimmed, and the stage curtains opened. The rumble of chatter died away, and a spotlight illuminated a well-dressed man on the stage. He certainly didn’t waste a chance to show off what he could buy with the money their organization made. His suit was gray silk, lined with undoubtedly real gold plating. The man tapped his ear to activate the small microphone chip in his mouth and began to speak. “Welcome contestants, I hope the wait was not too long. We will begin right away, though I would like to thank you for choosing to participate in this round. As you know, the funding we get from viewership drives our forward advancement; it is this fortunate balance that we struck that has brought us the prosperity of the past 50 years. That said, I know many of you are here because of challenging times. It is difficult to make the decision to sell yourself in this manner to the public, but I hope it gives you some reassurance to know that just those same 50 years ago, challenging times could have meant starvation, homelessness, or worse. Now, there is another path to choose from. “Tomorrow, we will begin the game. One victor will emerge with their dignity unbesmirched, while the rest will unfortunately suffer embarrassment. This is the first round of the tournament, awarding ten thousand credits to the victor, five thousand to second place, one thousand to third, and one hundred to everyone for participation. The top five placements will have the choice to proceed to the next round, or walk away. Though some of you likely already know the game, I will explain it now in detail, including the changes from the last tournament. After that, all of you will be shown your rooms and given the remainder of the day to yourselves. Tomorrow, everyone is to return to this theater at 9:00 AM on the dot. On with the rules now.” Robert listened for the next hour, noticing somewhere in the middle that the roles had flipped and Jessica’s hand was now atop his. The speech was mostly what he expected, but it filled in the many details he did not know. The game was effectively a holding contest, but played in a large arena where players would have access to many means of sabotaging each other. It would last until the last person standing, which typically didn’t exceed past the same day, though the world record was known to have gone until 7 AM into the following morning. Robert had no idea how such a feat was humanly possible, but after the speaker shared this fact, he could only pray no one even close to that skill level would be in the arena the next day. After the speech finished, the room instantly erupted back into conversation, with a sliver of panic added to the jumbled words from before. Staff members in fine suits directed the audience down each of the four exits leading to their designated rooms. “Hopefully we can meet up quickly tomorrow, try not to worry too much, get some sleep,” Robert told Jessica. “Thank you,” she replied, releasing his hand after they’d stood up. She lingered for a moment, looking at him as if she had more on her mind to say, but then simply added, “good night,” before walking off. Robert was led down the exit labeled with a number 3, though he doubted there was much difference between each of the four wings. His room, number 321, turned out to be unexpectedly luxurious, with a bed softer than anything he’d ever slept on. His body sank into it as if the mattress was one giant pillow. It was still 6 PM, leaving him with 4 hours to contemplate his predicament, and to say goodbye to his self-respect. He very much doubted that it would stick around after tomorrow. He lay staring at the ceiling, looking for patterns in the paint to analyze, but there were none. It was the same shade of white everywhere, not a single imperfection showing in the light. It looked almost unnatural, no shadow patterns to indicate texture or depth. For all he knew, he could have been staring into an open abyss, extending beyond into infinity. He wondered what tool could so flawlessly apply color on a wall, and why anyone cared to invent something like that in the first place. He knew he probably should be thinking about something more important, like his tactics for the game tomorrow. And yet, the bed was so soft, the ceiling so perfect, the furniture smelling like a pine forest in the break of spring. It was the best night's sleep he would get in the next many years, or perhaps ever. And all he had to do was risk a bit of embarrassment, potentially wetting himself on camera? Maybe he had it all wrong, looking at this as some bad outcome. The speaker on the stage had a point… tough times used to mean cold winters outside, freezing in the snow, losing fingers one by one to frostbite. He shuddered at the thought, pulling the thick blankets over himself. they were so cozy… so warm… he almost wanted to giggle, the primitive pleasure overwhelming him. Something clicked in him then, a realization. What was it that he was so afraid of? The wealthy were practically giving away their money with these competitions, running them every month. Was it the social rejection he thought he might face after the footage was published? Who would pay attention to him among thousands of other participants, and moreover, who would dare reject him after he made enough money from this? Who would question how he made his success once he had it? Win or lose, he was still winning something: a luxurious evening and one hundred credits. He beamed to himself, a rippling wave of calm spreading through him, purging all the stress he had no too long ago.
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