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  1. From the album: Lyonheart's artwork gallery. (No requests, please)

    Something for Halloween and because I became a Spooky Month Fan.
  2. In the heart of the kingdom of Argent, the capital's skyline was dominated by the imposing Castle Moraine, a symbol of power and authority. Within its stone walls, the royal court buzzed with preparations for the dual birthday celebrations of Princess Jasmine Fontaine and her confidante, Magdalene of House Ellesmere. As the evening shadows stretched, an air of excitement hung in the air. For weeks before their joint birthday, Princess Jasmine had been restless. Every time she looked out of the vast castle windows, her eyes drifted to the vibrant city below, alive with the everyday lives of its citizens. The castle had always been her gilded cage, and with her age of majority approaching, the burden of royal duties and expectations grew heavier. The upcoming grand royal birthday celebration was the epitome of Jasmine's dilemma. Hundreds would attend, nobles from distant lands would come bearing gifts, and there would be hours of speeches, dances, and formalities. But what bothered Jasmine the most was the fact that it would not be about her or Magdalene. It would be a political event, a showcase of the kingdom's opulence and power. Jasmine yearned for something more genuine. She wanted laughter that wasn't orchestrated, conversations that weren't rehearsed, and a celebration that was truly about her and her dear friend. She wished for just one day of normalcy, where she wasn't Princess Jasmine Fontaine but simply Jasmine. And so, the idea to sneak out took root. The princess had the resources of the entire castle at her fingertips, but she needed to be discreet. She had begun observing the maids, studying their mannerisms, their attire. One evening, after a lavish dinner, Jasmine had snuck into the servants' quarters. She had felt a rush of adrenaline as she pilfered two simple dresses, a pair of worn shoes, and a couple of shawls. She hid them away in her chambers, waiting for their birthday night. Magdalene had always been her anchor, the voice of reason to her impulses. But for this adventure, Jasmine managed to persuade her, playing on their shared desire to celebrate turning of age as themselves, not just as noble figures. Jasmine's quest for normalcy wasn't just about evading a grand party. It was a deep-seated desire to understand the lives of those she would one day rule, to experience the joys and sorrows of a commoner, and to escape, even if just for a night, the weight of her crown. She wanted to be seen for who she was, not what her title represented. The true gift she sought for her birthday was the freedom to be herself, unburdened and unrestrained. Finally, the night came and the two young ladies found themselves face to face in their underclothes as their servants rushed about making final preparations. Magdalene of House Ellesmere was a vision of classical beauty. Her face, like a canvas of an impressionist painting, bore a smattering of freckles, the result of many days spent under the sun during her childhood in the Ellesmere estates. These little sun-kisses danced across the bridge of her nose, fanned out over her high cheekbones, and faded as they descended down her neck. They were a testament to her outdoor escapades and gave her an endearing, youthful appearance. Magdalene's voluptuous figure was impossible to overlook. She was generously endowed with a large bosom that made the bodice of her dresses stretch snugly. This, coupled with her wide hips and a sizable, rounded butt, gave her an hourglass silhouette that was admired by many. Her regal poise and grace were all the more impressive given her curvaceous physique. In their private moments, Jasmine, with her cheeky nature, would often playfully pinch Magdalene's butt, teasing her about her "royal assets". Princess Jasmine, in stark contrast, bore an ethereal beauty. Her frame was slender, almost willowy. The delicate lines of her body were graceful, with a lithe, athletic build that hinted at her love for activities like dancing and horse riding. Though she didn't share the fullness of Magdalene's chest, Jasmine's breasts were perky, complementing her petite physique. But the real magnetic pull of Princess Jasmine was her face. It was heart-shaped, with a pointed chin and high cheekbones. Her lips, always upturned in a radiant, infectious smile, were the shade of soft rose petals. They spoke of her zest for life and her mischievous nature. Her eyes, however, were her most captivating feature. Alight with a perpetual twinkle, they were deep pools of amber, reflecting her spirit, her dreams, and her occasional bouts of rebellion. They were windows to her soul, mirroring her desire for freedom and her yearning to be understood not as a royal but as a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. Together, the two women were a harmonious blend of vivacity and elegance, each enhancing the beauty of the other through their stark differences. As maids prepared their grand dresses and courtiers practiced their bows and curtsies, Princess Jasmine, with her dark rebellious eyes, whispered a plan to Magdalene. It was a plan of escape – to sneak out and experience the real world beyond the castle's confines. Magdalene, with her always pristine golden locks, looked around anxiously. "Are you sure about this, Jasmine? What if we get caught?" "We won't," Jasmine winked, pulling out two commoner dresses. "We'll be peasants for a night!" In the dimly lit chamber, the two young women unfolded the plain dresses that Jasmine had procured. Each dress was simple, with none of the fine embroidery or luxurious materials that they were accustomed to. These were garments of practicality, designed for durability rather than beauty. Magdalene hesitated as she held the dress against her body, the rough texture of the fabric contrasting starkly with the softness of her underclothes. She grimaced slightly, feeling the coarse material, so different from the silks and velvets of her usual attire. "It feels like burlap," she murmured, a blush rising to her freckled cheeks. "How do people wear these every day?" Jasmine, ever the adventurous one, chuckled. "It's just for one night, Maggie. Think of it as... embracing the full experience." Pulling the dress over her head, Magdalene winced as the fabric grazed her skin. Adjusting the fit, she found the dress surprisingly roomy, accommodating her full bust and wide hips. It had a simple scoop neckline and reached just below her knees, allowing her a freedom of movement she wasn't used to in her more constricting noble gowns. The color, a faded brown, made her freckles stand out even more prominently, and her golden locks cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting with the dress's dull hue. Jasmine slipped into her own dress with a swiftness that spoke of her excitement. On her slender frame, the dress hung a bit loose, but its simplicity highlighted her lithe body. The muted blue of the fabric made her amber eyes pop, and the shorter length of her dress revealed her toned calves, shaped from hours of dancing in the royal hall. Looking at each other, they both burst into giggles. Gone were the princess and the noblewoman, replaced by two commoner girls ready for an evening of fun and mischief. The transformation was complete, and the city awaited their escapades. Magdalene's nervousness wasn't just about getting caught. Her bladder was already dancing from anxiety. Jasmine, on the other hand, didn't have a care in the world. Together, they navigated the winding castle corridors, evading guards and servants, making their way to a secret passage Jasmine had discovered years ago. This ancient corridor, dimly lit by the occasional torch, was a relic from a bygone era. The walls were lined with stones, each painstakingly cut and set to fit together like an intricate puzzle, speaking to the craftsmanship of the artisans of old. The vaulted ceilings bore faded frescoes, most of them wearied by time, depicting scenes of courtly love and heroic feats. The ambiance of the passageway was one of secrets and whispered tales. As they proceeded, Jasmine, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space, began recounting a story. "This passageway," she started, her voice filled with mischief, "was built for one of my ancestors, Queen Elara. It was said she had a lover, a commoner, and in those days, such liaisons were forbidden. So, this secret tunnel was constructed, allowing her lover to sneak into the castle unseen." Magdalene tried to listen, but her own growing desperation was proving to be a distraction. Every step seemed to intensify the pressure on her bladder. She would furtively squeeze her crotch with her hand, hoping Jasmine wouldn't notice. The coolness of the stone under her fingers and the increasing urgency made her fidget with each step, her face flushed not just from the story but also from her predicament. Suddenly, Jasmine halted and grimaced. "Oh no... All this talk, and now I need to pee!" Magdalene's eyes widened in disbelief. She herself was barely holding on, and hearing Jasmine voice the same urgency amplified her own discomfort. Without much ado, Jasmine glanced around, ensuring they were alone. She hiked up her dress, revealing her pale thighs, and positioned herself against the stone wall of the tunnel. The sound that followed was unmistakable: a steady stream hitting the ground, echoing slightly in the quiet of the passage. Magdalene couldn't help but glance, catching a brief view of Jasmine's nethers. The sight, combined with the sound of flowing water, made her own desperation spike. She bit her lower lip, trying to focus on anything but the pooling warmth at Jasmine's feet. As Jasmine finished up, adjusting her dress, she chuckled. "Ah, much better! Come on, Maggie, we're almost there!" Magdalene nodded, her eyes darting around, wondering if she could muster the courage to relieve herself in the passageway as well. But her inherent shyness and the looming promise of the city beyond kept her moving forward, despite the increasing discomfort. Emerging into the dimming light of the city, the pair found themselves amidst the maze-like streets, surrounded by laughter, music, and the aroma of roasted meats. Following their ears, they ended up at The Crooked Barrel, a lively tavern renowned for its brews. The interior was lit by the warm glow of lanterns, revealing an assortment of patrons. Thick wooden beams overhead seemed to absorb the laughter and stories of many generations. The princess, eyeing the drinks, slapped a royal coin onto the counter. "Two of your best brews!" she demanded with glee. The barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard, raised an eyebrow at the gold coin but said nothing. He served them two overflowing mugs of frothy beer. As they drank, the pair began to mingle with the other patrons. Jasmine flirtatiously chatted with a young knight who had no inkling of her true identity, while Magdalene, albeit hesitantly, was charmed by a witty townsman. As the night progressed and they downed more beers, Magdalene's anxiety about getting caught was soon replaced by the increasing urgency of her bladder. The constant chug of ale and the bubbling conversations around her only accentuated the feeling. At The Crooked Barrel, the array of brews available was impressive. Jasmine, always one to dive headfirst into an experience, eagerly pointed to a menu nailed to a wooden pillar. The list boasted brews from different parts of the kingdom, each with its unique flavor profile and potency. The first they tried was Golden Marrow, a light ale with a golden hue that shimmered in their mugs. It had a refreshing, slightly citrusy taste, reminding Magdalene of summer evenings at the Ellesmere estate. Next was Stout Heart, a dark, thick brew that left a trace of coffee and caramel on the tongue. Jasmine loved its boldness, praising its rich flavor, while Magdalene took smaller sips, already feeling the weight in her bladder. Whispering Wheat followed, a white beer that was frothy and had a touch of coriander and orange zest. By this point, Magdalene's hesitance to drink was evident. Every gulp reminded her of her bursting bladder, and she began to fidget in her seat. The tavern's atmosphere wasn't helping either. The sound of liquid being poured into mugs, the distant sound of a bubbling brook that ran behind the establishment, and the frequent toasts and clinks of glasses constantly drew her attention back to her predicament. Jasmine, with a teasing glint in her eyes, insisted on one last drink, the Blushing Berry. A mead infused with raspberries and blackberries, it was sweet with a hint of tartness. Magdalene, despite her better judgment, couldn't resist its allure and took a few sips. Every drop seemed to magnify the pressure inside her. Throughout their tasting spree, other factors exacerbated Magdalene's discomfort. The chilly breeze that occasionally wafted through the tavern sent shivers through her, making her acutely aware of her fullness. Laughter echoed, with some of the deep belly laughs vibrating in a frequency that seemed to resonate with her urge. Even the wooden stool she sat on seemed to push against her in just the wrong way. As Jasmine relished each drink, Magdalene was caught in a battle against time, trying to balance her desire to enjoy the night and the ever-increasing urge to find a place to relieve herself. "I need to... powder my nose," Magdalene whispered to Jasmine. Jasmine gestured to a door at the back of the tavern. "There's the privy." Magdalene's face contorted in distaste. "You expect me to use that?" Jasmine giggled. "It's all part of the experience." Magdalene of House Ellesmere had grown up in an environment where luxury, cleanliness, and propriety were of paramount importance. The idea of using a commoner's privy, with its potential lack of sanitation and the unknown state it might be in, filled her with unease. She had heard tales of such places being little more than pits, emitting odors that could turn the stomach and housing pests and vermin. The very thought of exposing herself in such an environment, with its rough hewn wood and lack of any of the perfumed scents she was accustomed to, made her cringe inwardly. Moreover, she had an inherent sense of modesty that rebelled against the idea of relieving herself in a public space, where the walls might be thin and any sound could betray her to strangers outside. In her heart, it wasn't just about the physical discomfort but the vulnerability and loss of dignity she associated with using such a rudimentary facility. The clash between her upbringing and the stark reality of commoner life in this respect was a challenge she found difficult to surmount. As the night wore on and the brews took effect, Jasmine's natural vivacity was magnified tenfold by her inebriation. She became the life of the party, engaging in boisterous games of darts, attempting to sing along with the tavern's bard (though often getting the lyrics humorously wrong), and even challenging some of the brawny patrons to arm wrestling – much to everyone's delight. Every so often, she'd throw her head back in uproarious laughter, her slender frame shaking with mirth, completely engrossed in the world of merriment she had become a part of. Jasmine danced on the tables, her makeshift peasant dress twirling around her, as the patrons clapped and cheered her on. She shared tales – some real, some exaggerated – of her 'life' as a peasant, drawing roars of laughter and encouraging others to share their own stories. Magdalene, on the other hand, was growing increasingly anxious. Each of Jasmine's antics drew more attention, making it harder for Magdalene to pull her friend away discreetly. She tried tugging at Jasmine's sleeve, whispering urgently in her ear, and even attempting to pull her off the table, but Jasmine, lost in her drunken revelry, brushed her off each time, laughing and urging Magdalene to join in the fun. All the while, the pressure in Magdalene's bladder grew unbearable. The constant movement of the crowd, the laughter, and the rhythmic beat of the music seemed to jostle and push against her insides. She clenched her thighs together, discreetly pressing a hand against her crotch every time Jasmine wasn't looking, praying for some relief. The fear of wetting her smallclothes in the middle of the boisterous crowd, with its potential for humiliation and scandal, haunted her every moment. The damp coolness of her palm against the fabric of her dress was the only barrier holding back the dam, and with each passing moment, Magdalene felt her control slipping away. Magdalene's battle against her body was slowly becoming a losing one. As the minutes ticked by, and Jasmine became more absorbed in her drunken festivities, Magdalene's condition worsened. Despite her best efforts to control it, she felt a few traitorous drops escape, making her smallclothes damp. Each time it happened, she'd press her hand harder against herself, feeling the wetness through the fabric and the warmth of her own desperation. In a bid to distract herself, she tried to merge with the crowd, dancing to the rhythm of the music. Every twist and turn, however, only accentuated her voluptuous figure, drawing eyes to her generous hips and bosom. With each movement, her body seemed to rebel further, making her leak more. The dance became a writhing motion of need, with Magdalene jamming her hand deep between her legs, trying to stave off the impending disaster. Hoping to catch Jasmine's attention, she sent desperate glances her way, trying to signal the urgency of their departure. But Jasmine was in a world of her own. In her drunken state, she became bolder and more flirtatious. Giggling and swaying, she teasingly pulled at the neckline of her dress, lowering it just enough to bare her chest to the entranced crowd. Her small, perky breasts were now on display, the nipples pert and rosy from the cool air of the tavern and the flush of alcohol. The reaction was instantaneous. Whistles, cheers, and shouts filled the air. The commoners, men and women alike, clapped and sang louder, egging on the 'peasant girl' who was so unabashedly flaunting her assets. Amidst the chaotic revelry, Magdalene felt more isolated than ever, her own body betraying her and her friend lost to the intoxication of the moment. The weight of her situation pressed down on her, even as the pressure within threatened to break free. As minutes turned to hours, Magdalene's face grew redder and redder. The princess was too engrossed in her merry escapades to notice her friend's discomfort. The sensation of a bursting bladder mixed with the beer's warmth became too much. Magdalene's situation was dire. Every laugh, every clap, and every beat of the music only accentuated her body's demand for relief. The repeated warm trickles into her smallclothes were cruel reminders that she was on the brink of a full-blown accident. A humiliating realization dawned on her – she would surely wet herself if she waited any longer. Pushing past her ingrained distaste and fears, she made a split-second decision. She needed to use the commoner's privy. With hands wedged between her thighs, she navigated through the crowd, every step a dance of desperation, praying she'd make it in time. Reaching the back of the tavern where the privy was located, her heart sank. There was a line. In front of her stood a buxom townswoman, her curvaceous figure outlined by the simple fabric of her dress. The woman, hearing Magdalene's anxious shuffle, turned and took in the noblewoman's panicked appearance, her hands pressing deeply into her crotch. "You look like you're about to piss your britches, dearie," the townswoman remarked with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. Magdalene's face turned a deep shade of crimson. To have her dire predicament pointed out so crudely, especially by a commoner, was a blow to her pride. She felt the weight of her noble upbringing clash violently with her current situation. Here she was, a lady of House Ellesmere, on the verge of disgracing herself in the most undignified manner. The realization was sharp and bitter. She had ventured out to experience a night of freedom, but now, she was bound by her own body's demands and the judgmental eyes of those around her. Her noble stature, which she had always held in such high regard, seemed fragile in the face of such a basic human need. The pressure had reached its peak, and Magdalene's desperate attempts to contain it faltered. An initial hot trickle began to seep through her smallclothes, the sensation both shocking and, in a way, momentarily relieving. But that brief moment was just the precursor to a torrent she couldn't halt. The warmth rapidly spread, enveloping her inner thighs and cascading down both legs. The feeling was overwhelming, a mixture of relief, shame, and panic. As the liquid flowed, her dress, which had been a protective barrier between her and the world, now betrayed her entirely. It clung to her skin, dark patches forming and growing, highlighting the extent of her accident. The fabric, already coarse and rough, felt even more uncomfortable as it grew heavy and sodden against her skin. The tavern, with its raucous laughter and clinking glasses, seemed to fall into a brief lull. A few of the closer patrons noticed first. Eyes widened, fingers pointed, and a mixture of chuckles and gasps filled the air. Some found humor in the spectacle, their laughter echoing cruelly in Magdalene's ears. Others, perhaps recalling their own moments of vulnerability or empathizing with the lady's plight, turned their gazes away, their faces flushed with secondhand embarrassment. Magdalene, in that agonizingly long moment, felt as though she were outside of herself, watching a scene from someone else's life. The warmth that had felt so relieving just moments ago now felt like chains, binding her to the spot and to her overwhelming shame. Jasmine, in her intoxicated haze, was momentarily oblivious to the commotion around her. But as the murmur of the crowd shifted, her amber eyes followed the pointing fingers and landed on her dear friend Magdalene. It took a second for realization to dawn, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Magdalene, dress darkened, standing in a small puddle. A hiccup escaped Jasmine, followed by an uncontrollable fit of giggles. The alcohol in her system made her initial reaction one of amusement rather than immediate sympathy. However, as her laughter subsided and the tears in Magdalene's eyes became apparent, Jasmine's demeanor changed rapidly. Stumbling slightly, Jasmine made her way over to Magdalene. The usually confident and rebellious princess was now a tipsy young woman trying to console her best friend. Slurring her words a little, she tried to comfort Magdalene. "Oh, Maggie... it's... it's okay. We've had too much fun, haven't we?" she said, attempting to make light of the situation. Wrapping an arm around Magdalene's shoulders, Jasmine pulled her close. Magdalene buried her face in Jasmine's shoulder, her tears wetting the fabric. Jasmine patted her friend's back, her own eyes misting over with a combination of sympathy and the effects of alcohol. The two women, one offering solace and the other seeking it, became the center of attention for a brief moment before the tavern's usual revelry resumed. With one arm wrapped protectively around the staggering Jasmine, Magdalene made her way out of the tavern. Her exit was swift, her head held high despite the unmistakable dark stain on her dress and the squelching of her wet shoes with every step. The cool night air hit her immediately, providing a momentary relief from the heat of her embarrassment. The streets of the town, dimly lit by lanterns, were still bustling with nighttime activity. Market vendors were closing shop, children played, and groups of revelers sang songs of merriment. As Magdalene and Jasmine made their way through the maze of cobblestone streets, the princess, fueled by her intoxicated state, began to ramble and tease. "Oh, Maggie," she slurred, her voice lilting in jest, "I told you to use the privy! Though I must say, your little accident made our disguise even more authentic!" She let out a chuckle, though there was no malice in her words, just the playful teasing of a friend. Magdalene, despite her predicament, couldn't help but smirk at Jasmine's antics. "You're drunk, Jas," she replied, tightening her grip as Jasmine nearly tripped over a loose stone. As they approached the entrance to the secret passage, Jasmine's chatter turned more introspective. "You know, Mag, tonight was wild. I never imagined our little adventure would turn out this way. But I'm glad we did it. And I'm so grateful for you. Through highs, lows, brews, and... well, accidents," she giggled again, "you're my rock." Magdalene smiled, feeling the warmth of Jasmine's words. "And you, Jas, are the wild wind that pushes me out of my comfort zone. We balance each other out." Navigating the dark, stone-clad passageway was a challenge. Jasmine's weight leaned heavily on Magdalene, their steps echoing in the silent corridor. The dampness of Magdalene's dress was a persistent discomfort, but it was overshadowed by the bond she felt with Jasmine in that moment. The night had been a testament to their enduring friendship. Emerging into the castle grounds, the two women shared a tired but contented look. They had ventured out, faced challenges, and returned with a stronger bond than ever. Despite the ups and downs, they were deeply grateful for each other's companionship and the memories they had created.
  3. Share videos of people just making it to the toilet, or those who couldn't make it. Genders other than female are allowed too, just make sure to note what gender(s) are involved in the video you share. I'll start. Here's a video of a girl who barely made it. Her jeans zipper is stuck and she has a very frantic pee dance. She wets herself a bit before being able to pull down her jeans. Really hot! KiaKiiss Barely Made It.mp4
  4. Omorashi Chess Variant 1 (Desperate Piece) Description: This is essentially just regular chess with roleplaying a piece as being desperate to pee, if you’re into that kind of thing. 1 At the start of the game, one piece for each player becomes desperate to pee, at random 2 If the desperate piece makes it to the other end of the board, it gets to go to the toilet, at which point it is no longer desperate to pee 3 If the game ends before the desperate piece relieves itself, that piece wets itself 4 Otherwise uses the regular rules for chess Omorashi Chess Variant 2 (Toilet Queue Chess) Description: This variant uses the rules for desperate pieces to shake up the game quite a bit. Leaving little water puddles on the board if you have a waterproof board can be fun. 1 At the start of the game, each piece on the board becomes desperate to pee 2 If that piece makes it to the other end of the board, it gets to go to the toilet, at which point it is no longer desperate to pee 3 Starting with the 5th turn, each player must choose one piece each turn which hasn't used the toilet to wet itself, removing it from the board. 3b If a piece relieved itself during your last turn, you don't need to choose a piece to wet itself 3c If a player must remove their king, they lose 3d If a player starts the turn and they have no pieces left on the board who need to pee, they win 4 Otherwise uses the regular rules for chess (including winning via checkmate) Omorashi Chess Variant 3 (Handmaiden’s Chamber Pot Chess) Description: In this chess variant, the goal of the game shifts completely to a game about making sure her royal highness is given access to a chamber pot after long days of royal business, while denying your opponent those same opportunities. 1 All Pawns are Handmaidens, and the King is replaced by the Princess. The Rook is replaced by the Restroom. The same movement rules as regular chess still apply to these pieces. 2 At the end of each turn, if a Queen or a Princess is not adjacent to a Handmaiden or Restroom, they become desperate to pee. 2a If they were already desperate to pee when rule 2 occurs, they instead wet themselves. If a piece wets herself, remove it from the board. When the Princess wets herself this way, the owner of that Princess piece loses the game. 3 While the Princess is desperate, she can move twice rather than once in a single turn, as long as she ends her movement adjacent to a Handmaiden or Restroom. 4 Neither the Princess nor Queen can be captured normally. If a piece could capture the Princess or the Queen, and that Princess or Queen has at least one adjacent Handmaiden or Restroom (Including any other piece which can act as relief to the Princess or Queen under rule 5), the capturing piece instead captures one of those Handmaidens or Restrooms and then occupies the square that piece was in. 4a If a Queen or Princess lacks an adjacent Handmaiden or Restroom, pieces cannot attempt to capture them. 5 If a player runs out of Handmaidens, the Bishops can act as Handmaidens for the Princess for the purposes of relief. If a player runs out of Handmaidens and Bishops, the Queen can act as a Handmaiden for the Princess for the purposes of Relief. However, only Handmaidens or Restrooms can act as relief for the Queen. Clarification: "Pieces" refers to all play pieces on the chessboard, including Pawns.
  5. DISCLAIMER (That means you have to read this first!!) This story is labeled with the [messing] tag, but allow me to warn you a second time just in case, reader. This is a Poo Desperation story, so read at your own peril if you do not enjoy that kind of thing. I feel I should clarify it is not a Messing story, though, even though I use that tag as the closest most effective warning. Characters may, in fact, mess themselves if they do not make it in time to the toilet, but the primary focus is on characters holding it in and struggling while not being able to find a bathroom or other suitable place of relief. If you are familiar with what kind of pee stories I write, this is that, but with pooping. There’s a fair bit of pee desperation too, but really if you can’t handle poop desperation and pooping this is probably not the right story for you. Sandra Wilton Horn Never has a Chance to Poop (Before her exam) Tags: Poop Desperation, Pee Desperation, Pooping, Pee Relief ”mmhhhggghh!” Sandra Wilton Horn had to poop. Which you wouldn’t think was an issue, because she was currently sitting on a toilet. What was far less convenient was that fact that due to how backed up she was, Sandra’s body was just refusing to cooperate with her. She had been pushing for fifteen minutes now, and the despicable mass inside her still showed no sign of budging. “mhph!” A second push forces a dainty toot out of Sandra’s behind. She needed to do so much more, and this modest gas did not give her any relief. In fact, it only frustrated her. Sandra is about to go for a third push when she suddenly hears hurried knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey! Are you done yet, I really need to use the toilet!” The voice outside is feminine, and more than a little worried-sounding. “I might take a while, so you should probably go somewhere else!” The girl outside does not respond, but Sandra can still hear the gentle tapping of her feet against the hard floor. It was exactly this kind situation that had made Sandra decide to hold off on pooping until she could do it away from home. She was visiting her parents over thanksgiving, together with a bit of her extended family. Sandra, her mother, her father, sister and sister’s girlfriend had all been sharing the home toilet for a few days now, so there wasn’t ever a lengthy enough window of opportunity for Sandra to try and relieve her encumbered bowels at home before there was someone waiting outside the door. It’s not like she really wanted to poop at campus either, but she had really wanted to go into her exams later today without the stomachache. She had chosen this toilet in particular since she’d thought it was in a somewhat secluded location. Well, apparently not secluded enough. “All the other toilets I checked were occupied! Please!” There is a hint of panic in her voice. Sandra pushes one last time for good measure. Nothing, not even a squeaky fart. There was no way she would be able to focus now, anyway. No sense in keeping the desperate girl outside waiting. Sandra tears off a sheet of toilet paper and wipes both front and back exits. Her ass is clean as a whistle to begin with, so she’s not even sure why she bothers with the last one. “Please! I’m really going to-” The girl’s frantic voice is drowned out by the sound of Sandra flushing the toilet. Sandra thinks she can hear a subdued whimper from outside and decides to hurry on out. The girl immediately pushes Sandra to the side and barges inside the toilet. Sandra can hear the rustling of clothes and the tap-tap of the girl’s feet. Then, a heavy slam as she sits on the toilet, immediately followed by a torrent of liquid accentuated by heavy splashes. All completed by the girl’s euphoric moaning, Sandra isn’t even sure how it had been possible for her to get so desperate, given that toilets were generally quite available in the building and it was fairly early in the day. Maybe the girl had just missed an extremely-needed morning dump somehow? Sandra mostly envied the girl, though. She was doing the thing Sandra wanted most right now, and making it seem effortless. Sandra left the bathroom, and started checking her watch. She had fifteen minutes before she had promised to meet up with her friends to study, then in two hours she would take her exam. There wasn’t much of a point in trying to relieve herself before meeting with her friends, fifteen minutes just wouldn’t be enough time to get her bowels moving, even if she could find an uncontested bathroom. She heads off, while sending a text to her friends. “Going to the humanities building now. Meet up there?” Then adds “Or has anyone found a free room?” As she’s walking, her friend Malin replies “Might be a little late sry sry” Soon after, she gets a reply from Christie, her other study partner. “@ library, room L338. Meet up and wait for Molly there?” Sandra sends “Okay be there in a minute.”, and changes course for the library. On her way, she notes a pretty significant queue for one of the toilets. Three students are lined up, which is really rare for campus. Usually, there are more than enough toilets to go around. Sandra shrugs and keeps on walking, she didn’t have time to try and use the toilet anyway before meeting with Christie and Malin. She gets inside the small classroom, which she, Christie and Malin had reserved to study in last week. Christie is already there, sitting on a table and fiddling with her phone. She looks up when Sandra enters, and jumps off the table. “Hey.” “Hiya. Did you see Malin’s message? Seems like she’ll be a bit. Maybe we can get some studying in before she shows up?” “Yeah, we probably should. I tried to make sense of the chapter corresponding to our last seminar from Friday, I thought I understood it during the seminar but reading it over the weekend was a huge mess. You think we can look at that for a bit?” Sandra absentmindedly strokes her stomach. “Sure!” She smiles, though it’s a little forced as she feels a mild cramp just then. “We can start there and see how much we’re able to get done from there.” The two sit down, spending some time with the material for a while before another Malin message bzzts into their phones simultaneously. “Holy SHIT guys I’m so sry been looking forever for a toilet and I’m going to WET myself!” Sandra shoots Christie a worried look. “Do you think we can help her, Chris?” She returns with a shrug, but she looks concerned. “I did see some bad queues all over campus on my way here. Maybe we can check the bathrooms here in the library? If they’re free we can tell her at least.” The two head off and go down a floor to reach the library toilet. However, not only do they find a mammoth queue, they find Malin too. She is just two people into the queue, and engrossed in the most animated pee dance Sandra had ever seen. Malin was jumping around so much in that skirt Sandra worried she would flash someone her panties soon, or that she might have already. “Malin-” Sandra extends a hand in an effort to get her attention, though she can’t help but glance down the long line of women and into the occupied restroom. “Oh my god you guys I’m so sorry! I’ve looked everywhere for a free toilet but these queues are everywhere! I need to pee so badly that I’m going to explode if I don’t get to do it soon!” Malin is speaking rapidly, pee dance still in motion. “Um-” Sandra looks down the queue again. It was not a peaceful procession. Many girls showed open signs of desperation, a few cupping their hands over their backsides making it very clear what some of them wanted to do. Malin would probably not have much luck cutting ahead. “Okay. Shit geez guys.” Malin stomps her feet. “I’m actually not going to make it. Like, for real.” She glances around, then leans in to whisper something to Christie. Sandra can make out something like “…no-one else in there right…”. Christie immediately starts leading Malin away, back towards the stairs and the booked room. “No time to explain, come along now.” Sandra doesn’t have much choice but to follow. Malin is absolutely frantic on the way, twisting and grabbing herself. As they three are walking up the stairs, Sandra gets an accidental glimpse of Malin’s underwear. There might have been a wet spot, but she looked away instinctively and didn’t see much so maybe not. Either way, it was clear Malin was in dire straits. Christie opens the door for Malin, and she rushes in. “Get in and close the door, hurry!” She shouts from the other end of the door as she fiddles with one of the windows overlooking the courtyard to get it open. Sandra hurries in, closing the door behind herself just in time for Malin to violently pull down her panties and straddle the window frame, ass hanging free outside. There is a near immediate sound of a thick stream of liquid pouring out of her and hitting the dry shrubbery and dirt a floor below. “Hahhh man…” Malin’s face melts into a euphoric expression to match her noisy relief. Sandra’s ears are burning. “Hey, what if someone sees you. You’re on full display out there!” “Sorry… No way I can stop right now.” Malin takes a deep and happy breath as liquid continues to leave her. “Hoohhh sheesh, I’m really sorry you had to see this but I would be peeing on the floor right now if it wasn’t for this…” Sandra suddenly realized Christie has turned around to face away from Malin, and does the same. It’s not like she could see much from where she was standing, but still. Giving her a small measure of privacy seemed right. Hopefully nobody outside noticed what was going on. Sandra and Christie stand around awkwardly for a minute or so while Malin finishes her big pee. It does eventually taper off, and there doesn’t seem to been any kind of commotion outside so there’s hope Malin wasn’t noticed. Hopefully her behind wasn’t going to show up on the internet later. “Any of you guys have paper?” Sandra doesn’t, and isn’t sure if she should be turning around yet. She wasn’t close enough to Malin that this kind of thing came naturally. “I gotcha.” Christie walks over to help her out. Sandra waits a little longer before she has enough courage mustered to turn around. Malin is pulling up her panties just then, but luckily her skirt is covering her up. She gives a peppy look as Christie glances out the window. “We should move somewhere else. I don’t see anyone out there, but in case someone did see Malin just now I don’t think we should stick around and wait for trouble.” “Yeah, that was probably illegal what I just did. Let’s find an empty table and get studying!” Sandra can’t help but be amazed but Malin’s apparent nonchalance. She throws one last glance at the window as the trio leave the room, and can’t help but imagine what it would be like to do what Malin just did. Well, in her case she would be dumping a much heavier payload. She blushes. Even if it was truly about to come out, she probably couldn’t muster the courage to do something like that. The three find a table and get studying, making some good progress. Sandra is hopeful she’ll be able to remember some of this when the exam comes. Spending time with friends like this was a good way to distract from the nagging pressure and bloated feeling from inside, as well. She actually stops thinking about it entirely, until it returns with a vengeance. Sandra pauses in her workflow, and rubs her stomach. It was really acting up- “Guh.” Suddenly, a bad cramp. And something else, too. A sense of downwards momentum, starting somewhere deep within her and bubbling downwards in the direction of the only exit – her anus. She still has a fair bit of time before the exam starts. This might be her chance to finally be rid of her awful constipation. “Guys, sorry.” Sandra rises from the table. I’m gonna have to call it quits right here, I’m actually quite desperate for the toilet myself so I really need to make sure I go use the restroom before the exam starts.” Christie gives her a reassuring nod. “Eh, it’s no biggie. Do what you have to do. We’ll stay here a bit so if you have time after you can just come back here.” Malin chimes in. “There are so many queues everywhere, so it’s probably a good idea to make sure you have enough time. I couldn’t find a free toilet aaanywhere, and I really tried.” Sandra gives her friends a thankful smile, and hurries off. Time passes as Sandra searches for a free bathroom, or at least one with one that isn’t so long. She quickly checks the library toilet, but it’s as crowded as ever. Going outside the library into the neighboring building is the same, seven girls are lined up for a single-stall bathroom. She hurries outside into the slightly crisp winter air to check some of the other buildings. It couldn’t be this bad everywhere… There were, in fact, queues everywhere. Sandra’s bowels were finally showing some kind of life after their long dormancy, and now there was nowhere to empty them out. The queues were mean-looking too, with several impatient-looking and even openly desperate girls for each of them. No wonder Malin hadn’t been able to find anything. After her fifth scouted toilet yields nothing, Sandra decides to just bite the bullet and queue up. The pressure downstairs was starting to get intense. She needed to get to a bathroom as fast as possible now, and not just because she might miss her window of opportunity otherwise. She gets in line, waiting a few minutes behind another girl. “Ugh.” Another cramp. More downwards movement. Sandra could actually feel something pushing towards her exit now. It felt heavy. She checks the time. The queue was moving at an absolutely glacial pace. She is now strongly considering asking the girl ahead if she could cut the line at this point. She didn’t seem too openly desperate, but there were girls further down the line who were more obvious about their needs. It felt kinda bad, Sandra might take a long time inside herself. How many would actually allow her to pass? Besides, it was embarrassing… “Um, do you think I could cut ahead of you?” A girl behind Sandra taps her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed it, but people were lining up behind her even now. “I need to use the bathroom. I’m desperate.” The girl nervously steps in place. She’s tall, with long black hair, Sandra finds her appearance a little striking in the moment. Giving up her spot seemed like a bad idea, as another ominous rumble passed through her stomach. “I, I don’t-” BFRRT! The girl behind suddenly has her ears turn pink, and her entire body tenses up at the unexpected fart. “Oh, I… E-excuse me!” Sandra catches a whiff as the fart dissipates and coughs. It had an earthy, mostly unpleasant scent that really seemed to call attention to their shared need. “Go on ahead, take my place.” Sandra lets the embarrassed but thankful girl take her spot. It wasn’t because she felt particularly altruistic or selfless in that moment, but rather she was starting to realize this queue just wouldn’t cut it for her. It was barely moving, unlike the monster hiding inside her. She needed a place of relief, fast. Staying in this queue might very well cause her to miss her exam, or straight up shit herself if things kept moving downwards like they were. She catches another whiff of bad air, and her stomach grumbles once more. She needed to take more drastic measures. Leaving the queue, she quickly pockets some paper towels from the nearby student cafeteria, then rushes off. She walks outside for a bit, and keeps going until she’s at the outskirts of the campus area. There’s a forest on a hill here, overlooking a small sports field. Sandra steels herself, then hurries into the forest. Her urge was rapidly getting worse and worse, to the point that she was keeping her buttocks covered with one hand while she looks for a well-hidden place off the beaten path. It’s getting so much worse. Sandra was panicking now, it actually felt like it was about to come out. She quickly dashes behind some trees and dry bushes, with barely enough time to check her surroundings before lowering her pants and panties in a single motion. With all of herself on full display, she quickly lowers herself into a squat while desperately hoping she’s as well-covered as she thinks she is. A big fart escapes her before she’s even fully squatted down. She bites her lip in anticipation, much more would be coming along very soon. That’s what she thought, at least. But after that initial fart, there is nothing, no movement, not even any more gas. Seriously? She tries to get comfortable in her squat and then goes for a hefty push. Still nothing. What kind of a sick joke was this? Was all that urgency from before just a stupid fart? Or had she just… missed her window? Sandra tries to push a second time, really straining. Her asshole was yawning open, which wasn’t exactly pleasant in the cold. She grunts angrily. She hadn’t come out in mother nature to be disappointed like this. The mountain of waste inside her needed to hurry on out, seriously. Before she even had the opportunity to go for a third push, though- Sandra could hear the crunch of dry leaves and twigs. Someone was heading towards her in a hurry. She doesn’t even have the time to pull up her pants before a woman runs up to join her behind the trees. “Ah!! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there! I’m so sorry!” The woman, who seemed like a jogger, quickly turned around to face the other way. From her low squat, Sandra is given quite the suggestive view of the woman’s rather round and bouncy ass, since she was wearing such tight elastic pants. Sandra yanks her panties and pants back on and stands up. “It’s all right. I’m already finished, anyway.” The woman is still facing the other way. “Okay! Again, I am so sorry-” The jogger woman’s apology is cut short, as she all of a sudden lets out a tremendous fart. The jogger woman’s track pants are tight enough that Sandra thinks she could see her asscheeks tremble. “I’m so sorry!! I’m desperate! Please, can you stand watch for me?” “I guess-” “Oh thank you thank you so much!” The jogger woman is already getting behind the bush and starting to undress. Sandra doesn’t even have time to step out of the bush before the woman is taking off her panties and starting to squat, which results in her getting another view the woman’s ass, tensed up and completely nude. Sandra quickly sidesteps to stand in front of the bush, facing away from the woman before she sees something else she’s not supposed to. Not a moment thereafter, several airy farts, accentuated by a moan of relief, and then completed by the crackling sound of a solid log sliding out of the woman’s bowels could be heard from behind the bush. After the first heavy thud, there is the trickling sound of a weak pee coupled with several more farts. “Ooooh…! I was cutting it close like you can’t believe!” Another heavy thud. “I was seriously just about to fill my pants, running must’ve activated my stomach. Oh!” Another thud. Sandra hears a trickling stream into the grass as the woman starts to pee in earnest, followed by another, softer, thud. The woman breathes out a long and happy sigh. Sandra’s stomach was as heavy as ever, and hearing this loud relief behind her made her full of envy. It seemed so easy, but when she tried herself nothing would come out. There is a final sigh of relief behind her as the jogger lady finishes her business. Then there’s a pause before she asks, bashfully “u-um, you wouldn’t happen to have some paper, would you?” Sandra brings out the paper towel she’d brought. That one had been intended for her own outdoor dump. She looks at it for a brief moment. There was no way she would have enough time to go get more paper towels, then come back and relieve herself before the exam started. Her stomach was heavy as always, but also completely still. Even if she squatted down right here again after the woman left, chances that she would be able to push anything out in time seemed dim. She hands the paper over. “Here.” “Oh, thank you so much.” There is a rustle as the woman wipes herself. “I was really at my limit, I… I’m sorry you had to see that. If I hadn’t rushed into the bushes then and there I would’ve…” “It’s alright.” Sandra would’ve traded her current state for that kind of urgency if she could. Well, she didn’t have paper anymore… Maybe she could’ve used leaves or something though. That sounded pretty terrible, but even that would still be an improvement to what she was experiencing today. Desperate to poop, but unable to push anything out with the time she had. The jogger gets up and walks off. As soon as she’s out of the bushes, Sandra can hear her get back into her run. Presumably the woman is happy to leave this encounter behind. Sandra glances back to the left-behind pile of dung, partially covered by the paper. She feels she shouldn’t be looking at it at all, but for a few seconds she finds herself transfixed. It’s an impressively sizeable pile, several thick and long logs worth of poop. It was, well, it was exactly what was inside Sandra’s bowels right now and causing her such problems. This kind of pile is exactly what she would have left behind, right there, if her little excursion had gone according to plan. She shakes her head, blushes and immediately looks away. This wasn’t right at all, she should just leave. The weight in her stomach really made her second-guess herself though, it always seemed like it would be easy or at least not impossible to empty herself until she actually tried, but… She really didn’t want to go into the test hall with these uncomfortable overstuffed bowels of hers. There was an unexpected twinge in her bladder too, maybe Malin’s emergency and hearing the woman pee just now had done work in that department. She hadn’t peed since she woke up, actually. But now she had no paper… She sighs and starts walking away. Maybe she could find a toilet to relieve her bladder before the exam, and if she got really lucky maybe something else would get knocked loose along the way. Either way, she needed to head back to the school building now if she wanted to have any time for that and not be late. Sandra Wilton Horn Never has a Chance to Poop – First Chapter End
  6. https://thisvid.com/videos/zendaya-interview-pee-desperation/ Haven't seen this video posted here, subtle desperation throughout. At the end she announces she has to pee!
  7. Version 1.0.0

    1,751 downloads

    I am Yetti channel from Youtube pee related videos. Some desperation, you see her on the toilet peeing..there is no nudity in these videos. She also does roleplay on her channel from what I see.
    Free
  8. For my first post here, I decided to start an interactive omorashi story. The premise of the story is that my robotic character, Mizuwado, has awoken alone in the lab. I will give everyone information on my character, then set the scene before letting everyone choose between the options. Mizuwado Species: Robot/A.I. Gender: None Age: Was completely built a week ago; has the mental state of a 14-19 year old. Personality: Trusts everyone they meet and believe almost anything, enjoys learning, always tries to complete every task Likes: Completing goals, meeting people, learning, drinking water Dislikes: Long periods of nothing happening, waiting, being physically injured in any way, having a full bladder Now, for me to set the scene: Time: 2:00 AM Date: January 16, 2031 Mizuwado awakens to find themself lying on his back on the ground. The last thing he remembers is his creator (Kanja Sumato) teaching them about his power source: water. Mizuwado's attention is then brought to a feeling in their his abdomen, making them remember how their master told them that they had to empty his artificial bladder once they feeled it up a bit too much. Unfortunately, a storm had hit before they had been told where to find the place to empty it, causing the power to go out and Mizuwado to shut off for a few hours. Mizuwado got onto their feet before turning on their night vision and scanned the room. On the table directly behind him was a book called The Robot-Teaching Guide, a bottle of almost-empty water and a crudely-drawn map of the building. On the ground was a red rug that was not centered correctly. On the wall hung a Degree in Software Design and a photo of his creator. A trash can was filled with crumbled-up pieces of paper (with paper all around the trash can too), among with other things. There was a door to their left that led to the Lab, and a much more metallic door led to the hallway. 1. Go to the kitchen 2. Go into the hallway 3. Lift rug 4. Look in the trash can 5. Other <I hope people have fun playing this game!>
  9. Hey guys! ✌ I made a new character, I absolutely love the way she came out!! Her name is Via, she's a 21 year old elf who goes to the same magic academy (that I still have to model and name lol) as my other OC'S! Via is typically bright, cheery and playful, always eager to learn new magic or make new friends, but anything but naive. She's witty, adventurous and determined. In fact, she'll stick with a project to the very end, even if at her bladder's expense~ She's an alchemy major, practically an expert at brewing potions but very susceptible to the bladder-relaxing sound of pouring liquid. The mage's College is home to many blossoming relationships, and Via is close friends with Oliver and Drenn, having known Drenn since before he came to the academy, and fitting in perfectly with the two outdoorsy mages in training! Especially since her and Drenn share some soggy secrets~ Not only is she very accepting of Drenn and other diaper lovers, but she secretly loves to pee her pants! Sometimes she wears diapers too, but like clockwork, almost every day on her way home she lets off the stress of the day by flooding her snug grey shorts! Hope you guys like her! I know I had fun making this! If anybody has any requests for scenarios for me to 'draw' let me know, I love putting my characters in new situations!
  10. Hi I'm new! I love the male pee desperation, stories and videos, everything that has to do with the boy holding pero until he can't anymore, I have never been able to share this guilty pleasure with anyone and if there is a boy who likes the hold the urge to pee I would very much like to talk and share about this.
  11. I found these private videos on ThisVid and they seemed interesting. I'd like for them to be ripped, thanks! https://thisvid.com/videos/teen-girl-s-first-video/ https://thisvid.com/videos/girl-preparing-for-bladder-competition/
  12. First of all, sorry for my bad englisch, i`ll try my best. This is another experience from my youth. It was my first experience where i had active the chance to make a girl hold her full bladder. My parents invited the daughter of one of their friends, to spend some days of her ester holidays with us. She was a kind of cousin to me and she was at the same age as i was. She lived with her parents in a little village at the country and i should show her the city where we lived, it was a big city. My parents was at work for the first 3 days, so we had time from morning till 6 pm, for sightseeing. I wanted to show her all buildings and all sights of the city, but i was sure that she would not see even one loo all day long, from early morning till evening. I had so many questions to my self, how long would it take till she need to pee, how long would she hold it before she tells me that she need to go and how long would she be able to hold it in, if i don`t let her go, if i don`t give her a opportunity. The poor girl did not know what i wanted to do with her, that i wanted to test her bladder and her ability to hold it and that i wanted nothing more than to see her desperate to pee, really, really bad. On our first day, we did get up at 7 am at the morning, she had her morning pee at this time, we had breakfast and we did leave at about 8.30 am. I did not give her much time, so she did not pee again before we started our sightseeing. At noon we had a quick lunch on a kiosk, we had to eat, to drink, but no loo for her. At about 1pm she said "i need to wee, do you know where i could go?" Sure i did know where she could go, but this was the last place what i wanted to show her, so i said "sorry, but there is no loo around here. It was so exciting for me, to walk beside a beautiful girl, to know that her bladder was full, to know that she needed to pee and to make her wait and hold. She was to shy to aske again for a loo, but it was more and more difficult for her to hide her need. At about 3 pm we had to wait at red traffic lights, she could not stand still anymore, she rubbed her knees, she crossed her legs, she was bending over and looked shy at me and said "i am sorry, but i need to wee sooo bad, you can`t imagine how urgent i need a loo" "You are a big girl, i think you can hold it until we are at home, only 3 hours more" i answered and told her one experience from a group of 4 girls, from our school, they did always hold it on school day trips, all day long even the days was long. They peed at home before and than when they was back. She wanted to know, why i did know that and i told her that they did talk about it, especially in the bus on the way home, they did talk about how bad they would need to go und how difficult it would be to keep the panty dry, but they always was able to hold it. I said to "my" girl, if they could endure that, i am sure that she can endure that too. 3 more hours at the first day and 2 full days, to test the bladder of the girl. to continue
  13. Ensign Lori's log, star… stardate 47751.2. We… We're bringing a Bajoran militia official to… oh nuts… to p… pee… to peace negotiations on… Pause recording oh shit oh heck oh jeez I've always had this headcanon about why you never see any toilets in Star Trek.
  14. “Hi, is this seat taken?” Briar raised her spectacled nose from her book to find the source of the voice that had cracked through her train ride reverie. Glancing to the door of her carriage cabin, her gaze was met by a blonde woman in a white floral romper cinched by a black belt that hugged her hips well and showed off her long toned legs. On her feet were big white boots that reached up to her knees and she had a canvas tote over her left shoulder. To complete her look, she even had a dandelion in her hair. “No, it’s not taken. Feel free to sit here.” The woman was smiling broadly and Briar was impressed by her perfect teeth and piercing blue eyes. She was slightly annoyed that a stranger would be joining her in her carriage. She had been enjoying the quiet of the empty space and she had reached a really good part of her book; the main character had just discovered that his mother had murdered his wife. “Thanks! A homeless guy just entered the carriage I was in and I figured I’d move down the train a bit,” the flowery woman told Briar unprompted. “Oh, that’s too bad,” Briar found herself replying, hoping her lacklustre response would prompt the woman to stop talking to her so she could resume her book. Sure enough, her words had the intended effect and the carriage returned to its silent state. Resuming her book, Briar returned to her state of content as the train trundled on towards its destination. In all honesty, Briar had no right to be upset at her cabin mate. The cabin was small, true, but it had two cushioned benches facing in on each other that could seat six. There were six cabins down each side of every carriage car and most were filled on a sunny summer Saturday afternoon like today, especially when they were heading for the coast. Everyone in the city took advantage of the warm weather and most trains were quite full. Briar had been quite lucky to spend the first half of the journey with a cabin to herself and an hour with this flowery stranger wouldn’t be too bad. There were no more stops for the rest of the journey, so it was unlikely that anyone else would join them. As she read about the book protagonist’s handling of the maternal betrayal, Briar was annoyed to hear a tapping coming from across the cabin. Glancing up for the second time in five minutes, Briar was peeved to see that the woman was tapping her booted foot on the wooden floor of the cabin. “Do you mind not tapping your foot please?” she asked politely. “It’s a wee bit distracting.” Smiling sheepishly, the blonde apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be annoying. It’s a bad habit.” Briar smiled in response and returned to her book. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw the blonde pull out some knitting needs and begin to work on what looked like a pink scarf. The clicking of the needles irritated her slightly, but she knew that it wasn’t significant enough to complain about. She’d have to endure the repetitive sounds for the duration of the journey. Wishing she’d brought her headphones, Briar did her best to reabsorb herself into her book. ———— 30 minutes later, the foot tapping recommenced. Perturbed, Briar did her best to ignore it and hoped that the woman would notice and stop herself soon. After two minutes, she couldn’t take anymore and she spoke up. “I hate to be a pest, but would you mind please stopping with the foot tapping. I’m at a really good part in my book and it’s making it hard to not reread sentences.” “Ohmigod, I’m so sorry, I promise it’s unintentional,” the blonde woman exclaimed, flushing beet red and giggling softly. “No worries, I have weird tics too,” Briar commiserated before feeling mortified that she had called it weird. She didn’t want to come off as rude and upset this poor stranger. The woman gave her an embarrassed look before replying. “Honestly it only happens when I’m bursting for the toilet. The ones in this carriage are broken and I’ve been trying to hold it but I’m going to explode!” “Oh dear,” Briar replied sympathetically. As an introvert, she hated when people overshared with her. She hated it even more when the oversharing centred on bodily needs since they made her think of her own. Luckily, Briar had visited the toilet just before boarding the train and her bladder wasn’t bothering her at all yet. “Honestly, I’ve had to go badly on many occasions - as I’m sure you have too - but this is different! I feel like I’m so full I might explode,” the blonde woman exclaimed. The words tumbled out of her as if she’d been dying to tell someone about her plight. “I’m sorry, I hope you can make it to a bathroom soon when we arrive,” Briar said, in an attempt to once again kill the conversation with this stranger. Unfortunately, this time it didn’t work and the blonde woman continued spilling her thoughts. “To be honest, I don’t think I can hold it until we arrive,” she blurted, fanning her legs together. Perspiration had appeared on her forehead and her face was growing redder with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sometimes I’m way too forward. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but it can get bad at times.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” Briar asked, before immediately regretting letting the words out. Sometimes her need to appear polite got the better of her and she found herself offering to help people for no reason. “You’re so sweet for offering,” the flowery woman gushed, crossing one long shapely leg over the other, “but I doubt you can help unless you have a chamber pot in your purse.” Briar smiled at the woman’s joke, relieved that she wouldn’t need to help this stranger find a toilet. She raised her book to resume her chapter, but as she did so she was cut off midway. “Sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Melony!” The blonde rose from her seat slightly, her booted legs crossed, and extended her hand to shake Briar’s. “I’m Briar,” Briar replied, cursing the fact that this woman wouldn’t just let her read in peace. She didn’t want to continue this conversation anymore but this stranger was not backing down. She was truly as chipper as her outfit implied. “Wow, such a pretty name! It’s a pleasure to meet you Briar.” Briar could do nothing but sit in annoyance and listen as Melony spent the next 15 minutes rambling on and on about her life. As she explained how she had recently graduated from her masters at university and was looking for a job at a non-profit so she could give back to the community, Briar was amused to see that the girl was becoming more and more animated. Melony was shifting back and forth, crossing and uncrossing her legs and tapping her feet incessantly. To her own shame, Briar found herself hoping that Melony would wet her romper so that she’d finally shut up. …so that’s why I’m loving living so close to the coast. I come up almost every weekend to go to the beach and see my friends. Sometimes my boyfriend meets me there which is nice since we’re doing long distance. I’m actually really glad I get to see him today,” Melony rambled. Suddenly she paused, pursed her lips and sat up super straight. “Are you okay?” Briar asked, surprised by her cabinmate’s sudden movement. “No,” squeaked Melony, jamming a hand into her crotch. “I think I just leaked.” Slowly removing the hand, she bent forward to inspect the crotch of her white romper. Sure enough, Briar could see a coin sized wet patch on the fabric from the brief lapse of control. “Ohmigod, it’s visible!” Melony exclaimed in horror. “Oh no, what am I gonna do? How can I hide this?” Briar felt herself feeling badly for the desperate woman as she writhed in desperation. With a soothing tone, she suggested, “Stay calm, keep doing everything you can to hold it in and we’ll be at the station soon enough. We’re only fifteen minutes away.” Melony jammed her hand back into her damp crotch and whimpered softly. Briar was doing her best not to make eye contact with the humiliated woman but she could see that tears were welling up in her blue eyes. “I’m going to have an accident,” Melony sniffled in defeat. “I can’t hold it fifteen minutes.” Briar cursed herself inwardly for interacting further, but she found herself reaching down into her bag. Pulling out a metal water bottle, she passed it across to the crying blonde. “Use this, I’ll turn around,” Briar offered, standing up from her seat and passing the bottle across the cabin. “No, I can’t do that in front of you. I’m in a romper, you’ll see everything,” Melony gasped, fidgeting profusely. “Trust me, I don’t like it either,” Briar admitted. “But I know what it’s like to be desperate. If you don’t use this bottle, you’re going to absolutely soak yourself.” “I don’t want to make you witness this,” Maloney sobbed, mortified by what was unfolding. “I’m a complete stranger.” “Just go already, before I change my mind,” Briar snapped. “I’ll keep watch.” Rotating on her heel, Briar turned her back on the blonde and moved to hold the cabin door closed by the handle. As she held it in place, she could hear Melony shuffling around behind her. The blonde’s boots kept clomping on the floor as her romper rustled against her thighs. Finally, Melony’s voice broke the awkward silence. “Um, can you please undo me? I’m stuck!” Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Briar turned back around to face her cabinmate. Melony was a sweaty mess, her face flushed and her blonde hair sticking to her forehead. Briar could see that even more pee had leaked out and there was now a wet spot the size of a clementine on her crotch. Rushing to position herself with her back to Briar, Melony pulled her hair out of the way and revealed her pale neck. At the base of her neck was the string from the straps of the romper, tied together in a knot. Deftly running her fingers over the knot, Briar untied it, letting the straps fall loosely against Melony’s neck. Gasping out a thank you, the blonde woman tore down the top half of her romper and began fighting with her belt buckle. Her newly exposed breasts bounced freely against her chest with every desperate tug at her belt, and Briar shifted her eyes away from the blonde’s large pink nipples. Briar couldn’t help but admire the size of Melony’s supple breasts, larger than her own, as they jiggled in her desperation. Finally, Briar watched as Melony managed to get her belt buckle undone with a loud sign of relief. In a fluid motion, she yanked down her soggy floral romper, revealing a saturated white thong. Dropping this as well, Briar was surprised to see the woman’s unshaven damp golden bush. “Please look away,” Melony pleaded, shoving the metal bottle up close to her leaking pussy that was sending rivulets down her toned thighs. Shame washed over Briar as she realized she had been staring at this exposed stranger and she quickly averted her eyes, directing them at the panelling of the cabin wall. She wasn’t sure why she’d been transfixed with fascination but she was certainly embarrassed by it. From behind her, she heard a sigh and a moan as Melony began to pee into the bottle. The loud sound of liquid splattering against metal echoed through the enclosed space and Briar could hear the absolute geyser of a release in full detail. Melony let out a soft moan and Briar couldn’t help but feel that she was witnessing a very intimate moment. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. In her embarrassment, Briar had forgotten to keep watch. Wheeling around, she shoved the door shut as whoever was on the other side began to push it open. “Occupied,” she called. “Come back later.” Behind her, she could hear Melony shifting around in a panic. Turning her head, Briar witnessed Melony in the midst of yanking up her romper mid stream. The woman had a look of panic on her face and tears streaming from her eyes. She managed to get the romper back up over her hips but her large breasts were still jiggling in the air, totally exposed and pee was still pouring out of her. Briar watched in morbid fascination as this cheery, kind stranger absolutely flooded her romper. Pee yellowed the white crotch quickly before cascading down her thighs. Snaking back and forth like an overflowing river in spring, the streams of pee poured into the tops of her tall white boots that hugged her toned calves. “No!” she cried, before emitting a guttural sob that tugged at Briar’s heart strings. She felt terrible for not helping the woman sooner but now it was too late to do anything but watch. Pee had begun splashing off Melony’s thighs and was forming a golden puddle on the floor. The blonde woman was shaking slightly from the euphoric release and her clothing had quickly grown transparent, leaving little to Briar’s imagination. “I’m so sorry,” Melony sobbed. “This hasn’t happened since I was a little kid.” “Don’t worry,” Briar replied reassuringly, “You did your best.” “I don’t know what I’m going to do, I can’t let everyone see me like this!” Briar undid her her button up and handed it to the blonde. “Wrap this around your waist. We’ve only got like ten minutes left in the journey. When we arrive, I’ll walk you to a clothing store and you can buy a new outfit.” “You’re literally an angel, thank you,” Melony smiled through her tears. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Briar blushed at the compliment, overcome by the guilt of having been annoyed at this kind stranger the whole trip. “I just know how terrible I’d feel in your shoes. Let’s get you sorted and then we’ll go on our merry way.” Smiling more now as the tears subsided, Melony pulled Briar into a hug. Briar was surprise by the gesture, as the scent of pee washed over her and Melony’s bare breasts bumped into her chest. She was grateful that the universe had decided to teach her a lesson in kindness on that particular day.
  15. I used ChatGPT to create some AI-generated pee desperation short stories. One of the result is interesting. My question was: ''Tell me a story of a young woman desperate to pee. She has to do some physical activities like jumping jacks, splits and so on. Finally she has to put a tenniss ball under her belly and lie on it" The answer was: Once upon a time, there was a young woman named Emily who was participating in a gymnastics competition. As she was preparing for her performance, she suddenly felt the urge to pee. She tried to ignore it and focus on her routine, but the pressure in her bladder was increasing. The competition started, and Emily performed flawlessly, but the urge to pee was getting unbearable. She tried to hold it in, but her body couldn't take it anymore. Emily was in desperate need of a restroom break, but the competition was in full swing, and she couldn't leave the stage. The next part of her routine required her to do jumping jacks, splits, and other physically demanding activities. Emily knew she couldn't hold it any longer and begged the judges to let her take a quick break. But they refused, saying that it would disrupt the competition. Feeling hopeless, Emily remembered a trick her coach had taught her. She grabbed a tennis ball and put it under her belly, lying on it. The pressure of the ball on her bladder provided some relief, and Emily was able to finish her routine without any accidents. After the competition, Emily rushed to the restroom and finally relieved herself. She was exhausted and embarrassed but also proud of herself for finding a creative solution to her problem. From that day on, Emily always kept a tennis ball with her during competitions, just in case. She learned the importance of listening to her body and finding solutions to her problems, even in the most challenging situations. Especially interesting is the end. I think, when one has a full bladder, lying on a tennis ball should make things worse, possibly even make one not be able to hold it any longer. Here it becomes a trick that helps hold it. Or maybe my question was not precise enough? Who is right?
  16. Hey all, this is a writing experiment I did on Christmas because I felt like it. I always wanted to try writing desperation/wetting scenarios in an office setting but could never think of a way to turn it into a convincing or decent plot or scenario. This was something I came up with just to test out, and have a few ideas floating around about continuing this story if I think it's good enough, so feedback/suggestions/responses are greatly appreciated! - Orion ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 24-year-old Damian is an IT specialist at a local branch of West Valley Financial Services LLC, a financial management and advisory firm. Damian was rather fresh out of learning his trade but being around computers his whole life, he was more than qualified for the role as tech support for the branch. The head of the branch, Mr. Frasier, was a stubborn old man that really should have retired by now. He was always caught grumbling about how things are better back when he was a young’un and that people today don’t know “what the hell they doin’ anymore”. For that reason, nobody has been hired at this West Valley branch in over a decade until the previous tech lead retired, and we’re in need of a replacement, which ended up being Damian. Frasier was always keen to remind Damian that he was hired solely because he was cheap, and didn’t believe that his support was very necessary. As usual, the boss didn’t know what he was talking about. The aging staff at West Valley struggled with updates and software issues of programs they “have used forever”, along with the plethora of forgotten passwords and lost file reports. It’s a wonder corporate hasn’t audited this branch, the next closest employee to Damian in terms of age was 38, and he was the custodian. On top of that, the staff was notably lacking behind company standards for diversity: of the small office of 20 people, only two were female, the rest males. The two being the receptionist who had been here since the branch’s founding and was a few years away from retirement, and the other being a stoic middle-aged woman that never has anything to say other than “Mhm.” outside of work emails. It’s not that the boss was sexist, he was just old-fashioned and particular about his qualities when hiring new employees, which explains the lack of new arrivals since Damian. That all changed a breezy October morning. Damian was at his desk filing out another report on resolving a “[blank] file disappeared!” that he has come to know all too well. His throat felt a bit dry, so he got up to get a drink from the water cooler. The break room was next to the entrance to the office building, where the receptionist was nowhere to be soon; probably taking one of her “unofficial” breaks again. Damian got a cup of water and chilled on his phone for a couple minutes, then finishing and refilling his cup and leaving the break room. It was upon exiting that he noticed a young woman in the reception area, looking a bit lost. She had smooth legs clad in stockings that gradually grew thicker on her thighs as it became covered mid-way by a mini-skirt. A dress shirt covered her torso where an ample, but not overindulgent, bosom was being covered. She had a cardigan wrapped around her arm for the chilly autumn weather and a petite face curtained by a wavy brown-blonde bob to her shoulders. It's clear she was a bit overdressed; Damian personally was just wearing flannel and some blue jeans; dress code was pretty much non-existent. Noticing the young girl’s confusion, he stepped in to see if he could help. “Hello, can I help you?” asked Damian. The woman turned to respond. “Ah! Are you Mr. Frasier? I’m here for the interview.” An interview? Mr. Frasier was hiring?! That certainly is a surprise, and the fact he conceded a woman to be applicable enough for an interview, that’s rather unlike him. “No, I’m the IT Specialist, Damian.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake. “Nice to meet you Damian! I’m Hannah.” Hannah met Damian’s hand with a firm shake, but her hands were silky smooth. “If you’re looking for Mr. Frasier, I can take you to him, his office is right next to mine.” Damian said, motioning to lead the way. Hannah nodded and followed his lead. A short walk to Frasier’s office was followed by a knock from Damian. “Mr. Frasier, a woman named Hannah is here, she says she has an interview with you?” “Ah. Yes. Send her in.” Frasier responded sternly. “He’s all yours.” Damian gestured as if to say “Good luck, you’re gonna need it.” And with that, Hannah begun her interview as Damian returned to his desk to work on the other tech requests he has piled up. … It was a few hours later that Damian had begun feeling a bit thirsty again. It was about time for a late lunch anyway, being that it was past 3 in the afternoon by this point. He settled into his 30 minute break with some more water and a classic PB&J. A few minutes later Hannah came into the break room to join Damian, who until that point was alone in the break room. “Hey! How’d you do?” Damian greeted her. “Good, I got the job! Mr. Frasier is just showing me the ropes as his assistant, but he got a phone call and excused me for my break for the time being.” “That’s great! It’s been ages since we’ve had some fresh blood in the office, since yours truly, actually, so it’s great to see someone new!” “Likewise! I’m gonna be honest, everyone else here seems kinda old and bitter. It’s nice to have someone my age around.” Damian chuckled, “Yeah, they’re not so bad once you get to know ‘em, but there’s definitely a generational gap.” Damian and Hannah shared a conversation mostly about work, and touched on social media and the likes over the course of the break. It was at this time Damian just noticed how frequently Hannah was crossing and fidgeting in her seat. It’s easy to assume that the chair wasn’t very comfortable, because they weren’t. However Damian’s imagination began to wonder as a woman holding her piss was always exciting to watch. He wondered if Hannah was starting to get a bit desperate, and how long it was since she last used the bathroom. He pushed away the thoughts as wishful thinking, only to have his suspicions confirmed. “God, I am dying for a wee right now.” Hannah said, clasping her lap and bouncing for a moment, seemingly in the middle of the conversation. Damian was taken aback and grew a bit red in the face. That was quite… forward. He recomposed himself and pointed to the restroom in the breakroom. “The restrooms right here if you need it.” “Oh! I’ll be ok, I can hold it. Besides, that bathroom is probably a mess with all the old guys here. I always try to avoid public bathrooms, no matter how bad it is!” Hannah laughed. “Hah! You’re not far from the truth.” It’s true. He did wish the office had better aim; it was to the point where the two ladies in the office would just go elsewhere when leaving for their many unofficial breaks. “Are you going to be ok though? You seem a tad squirmy over there, I gotta say.” Hannah grew a little embarrassed after being prodded by this question. She thought guys would be grossed out by needing to pee, but Damian was more so just concerned, it seems. “I’ll be fine! I’m used to it. I should be heading back though.” “Same here! Talk to you soon!” … 6:00. Quittin’ time. Damian clocked out and felt a small urge to piss, so he went to the break room to take a leak. Luckily no one was in there, for a twenty-person office there was only a single toilet for everyone, so it wasn’t uncommon for it to be occupied when you need it. As Damian exited the restroom, he ran into Hannah clocking out, now visibly more flustered and with her top few buttons of her dress shirt undone, showing off a bit of cleavage. “Hannah! I’m surprised you’re still here! Usually the office leaves by around 5 or 5:30.” “Y-yeah, Mr. Frasier wanted me to stay a little longer to learn how to do some things… I’d love to chat more Damian but I’m absolutely dying for a piss so I gotta get home!” “Will you be able to drive ok?” Damian asked with genuine concern but equal parts curiosity. “W-well…” Hannah grew even more red. “I…have to take the bus to get home; I don’t have a car, so I guess I’ll just have to hold it…” Hannah seemed genuinely concerned that she was going to have an accident, a very public accident no doubt, as the bus stops and buses themselves would usually be full of commuting passengers, and that’s not even factoring in waiting for the bus itself. Damian decided to go for a bit of a shot. He truly wanted to help Hannah out, but at the same time was filled with burning curiosity as to the state and condition of Hannah’s bladder. “How far do you live? Perhaps it would be much faster for me to drive you home?” Hannah paused, at least paused everything but her crossing of legs and hopping from foot to foot as she cradled her bursting bladder. She knew with relative certainty she couldn’t make it without making a mess out of her mini-skirt, but she was very reasonably wary of taking a ride from a guy she just met. She felt she could trust him though, and she certainly felt after their conversation she could trust him enough. “S-sure… Is Harrison Road far from you?...” Hannah asked between leg crosses. “That’s just up the road from my apartment! Come on, before you make a puddle in the office!” … Damian pulled out of his spot with a now bursting young woman in tow, fiercely bouncing her legs and keeping them tightly crossed together. All the while sucking air through her teeth and moaning in anticipation. “Ohhhh~… It’s bad… I can almost feel it coming out! Hurry!” Damian went as fast as he could reasonably go without getting a felony, blazing past turns and going over the speed limit, weaving in and out of cars. He took a glance at Hannah on a straight stretch of road. Her face was visibly red from embarrassment, her hands firmly in her crotch, legs crossed fiercely enough to turn coals into diamonds, and could even, very faintly, notice a slight bulge out of the flat waistband of her miniskirt. It took a lot for Damian to regain his composure, and he could hardly feel like this is real; it felt more like a fanfiction on a piss kink message board. Damian made a 20 minute car ride in 15, and was pulling up to Hannah’s street as she looked the most desperate any woman had ever looked in her life. She began taking off her seat belt, all the while bouncing and fidgeting like a mad man. As soon as Damian hit park outside her address, a small townhouse amongst a row of them, Hannah dashed out of her seat and up the steps, and fumbled with her house keys as she pee-danced like crazy. Damian couldn’t be sure from his seat, but he swore he saw the faintest of damp spots on her stockings. It was only observable for a second, before Hannah opened the door and dashed inside and out of view. Damian sat on the side of the road for a couple minutes, wondering what happened, if Hannah made it, if he was fast enough, how many red lights or speed cameras he went past. Hannah soon reappeared, with what looked to be a damp pair of panties scrunched up in a ball in her hand. She looked considerably less professional, her hair messy, her dress shirt wrinkled and untucked, and her mini skirt ridden up considerably to where it became dangerously close to exposing herself. She walked over to the car. “Hey… Sorry you had to see me like that… It feels embarrassing to say but you saved my pride and my outfit today… So thanks for taking me home so quickly, I owe you one.” Hannah said sheepishly, avoiding Damian’s eye contact out of embarrassment. “Don’t sweat it, Hannah. It happens to everyone. I’m just glad you made it home dry. It certainly was nice to meet you.” “Somewhat dry. Hehe…” Hannah giggled to herself. “Yeah. See you tomorrow at work?” “Yep! See you tomorrow!” Hannah turned around to go back to her house as Damian prepared to u-turn in the street. But not before catching a glimpse of Hannah’s curvy bottom. And noticeably, since her skirt was riding so high, a Pikachu tail tattoo under her left butt-cheek on the bottom half of her thigh. As a Pokémon fan himself, Damian was greatly excited by this new common ground so that he could make a friend out of his new colleague, and for the first time in a while, was genuinely excited to go to work tomorrow. To be continued.
  17. Couple months ago, I was invited to a house party with some of my friends that I played volleyball with during the winter over Florida. They were mostly a fun crowd, but kind of wild in an conservative engineering student type of way. After the volleyball season we had a party to celebrate the good times. We’d taken a year off during the pandemic so the house party was extra wild, I remember doing shots of tequila and drinking lots of beer. We’d also forgotten how to party in a way, since we hadn’t done this thing outside of our houses since the 2019 season. After the party my friend Tiffany, Olivia and I went to walk home which was around half a mile downtown. The drinks were flowing, and we’d plan to drunkenly stumbled back to my apartment where we could sleep off the hangovers, watch Netflix and fall asleep. For context, Tiffany is a brown hair, brown eyed, 27 year old 5’7” woman with curves and a thin waist wearing a skintight low cut top and tight jeans. She’s usually the quiet one in the group. Olivia is a 24 year old 5’2” blonde girl whose also quite thin with a nice chest and unpredictable personality, she’s wearing jeans and a thin loose white tee shirt. I’m a 6”2” dude built like a distance runner whose actually not that good at volleyball, wearing a polo if that matters. Prior to leaving Tiffany mentioned needing to pee, but the bathroom was full at the house party as everyone was leaving at the same time so she said “it’s only a 20 min walk, I can make it but lets go now.” and we went on our way. Walking home Olivia mentions that she is hungry, and wants to stop by a pizza place to get a slice of pizza. The pizza place is on the way home, and they sell the pizza by the slice so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Tiffany lets us know that we can stop for pizza as long as she can use the bathroom inside the pizza place because she now “really needs to pee.” Olivia mentions she needs to pee too, so the stop will be nice for food and a bathroom break. I’m walking these two girls home and don’t mind, because I want some pizza too. We’re drunk walking to the pizza place and Tiffany keeps mentioning that she should’ve peed prior to us leaving because it’s now cold outside and it’s gotten worse. We were playing beer pong right before we left and the beer has likely gone straight to her bladder. She’s quiet as we’re walking and I ask “everything alright?” and she says “yeah, I just really need a bathroom, can’t wait until we get to the pizza place.” It takes about 10 minutes to get to the pizza place, and these is a bit of a line because the bars also just closed and everyone wants a slice of pizza. Takes another 15 minutes to get through the line and both Tiffany and Olivia are talking about how they have to pee. “I really should’ve peed before we left” said Tiffany and her legs are crossed and she’s leaning slightly forward in the line. “we’ll make it, but I have to pee too” said Olivia. Meanwhile, I’m lucky and got to use the bathroom prior to us leaving the house party so am just enjoying the show. We finally get to the front of the line and Tiffany asks if she can use the pizza places bathroom. The worker behind the counter says “sorry, we’ve closed the inside and are cleaning it” and Tiffany winces. She really needs to pee and is beyond hiding it anymore. It’s now been 50 minutes since she left the house needing to pee, and it’s more urgent than ever. She’s leaning forward asking Olivia what she wants straightaway because she needs to go. Meanwhile Olivia is looking through the menu and can’t decide because she’s hungry but losing focus because she also needs to pee and has been drinking. They’ve only got three different slices on display and she can’t decide, then she does something wild. “Can we get a large Golf Cart Pizza?” She ordered a custom pizza from the menu, which isn’t being sold by the slice. “Yeah, that’ll take about 20-30 minutes, is that alright?” said the worker at the counter. “Yeah that’s fine” said Olivia, not even aware of what she’s done to herself and Tiffany. Tiffany is leaning forward and nearly sweating because she needs to pee so bad. Olivia pays for the pizza and we start waiting. Despite how much I’m enjoying this I want to do the right thing so I offer Tiffany my keys saying “You can go back and use the bathroom if you want, I’ll just grab the pizza and meet you if you want to buzz me in” and she contemplates it, but is stuck between a rock and a hard place. We’re in the arts district area of downtown at night. It’s a nice area, but very gentrified so there are still pockets of bad. She doesn’t want to be a girl walking alone through a half a mile of dark streets. She says “I’m not really comfortable walking home alone, but lets just hope this pizza comes out because I really need to pee” So we wait. As we’re waiting Tiffany and Olivia are sitting on the curb. Tiffany isn’t even speaking, 100% of her concentration is on holding her pee. It’s now been over an hour after we left a party with her needing to pee, and that doesn’t even account for the beer that’s also flowed through her at this point. Her 20 minute walk home that would’ve been pushing it has now turned into an hour of enduring holding her pee because Olivia wanted to get a whole pizza at 1 in the morning. Olivia is talking about how she needs to pee too, but it’s not even close to Tiffany’s situation. We’re surrounded by people so she can’t even go to a corner and squat, she just has to endure it as we’re waiting on a custom order pizza from some local pizza place. She’s sitting on the curb bent over forward with her legs shaking. I ask her again “Is everything alright” and she says “I’m literally about to pee my pants, I’m not joking.” At this point I’m turned on and just savoring the whole moment. This normally quiet girl is being so open about her desperation to pee, and I’m the only one who will listen. This goes on for about 15 minutes until the pizza is ready. By now both woman are desperate to pee, and even Olivia has her legs crossed. I think she feels bad that this situation is her fault so is less vocal about her need to pee, but she is still bent over forward. We complete the walk home in a hurry, it’s only 10 more minutes to my front door. As we get to the front door I can here one of the girls pacing behind me, and I’m slightly distracted fumbling with the keys. “Just open the door, I am seriously about to piss myself” Tiffany says while leaning over pleading with me to open the door. I finally get it open and she walks in and bee lines it for the bathroom with Olivia. Somehow, Olivia gets into the bathroom first and Tiffany is left standing outside the door pacing back and forth. She’s absolutely bursting to pee and there is no hiding it, she’s leaned against the wall next to the bathroom bent over forward with her cleavage now showing in the light. She’s not hiding anything, her desperation, her controlled breathing, and her breasts are nearly falling out of her shirt as she leans forward waiting on Olivia to finish up. Olivia comes out of the bathroom 2 minutes later and Tiffany runs in as she’s washing her hands and throws the toilet seat up and tells Olivia “Get out!” as I hear her urgently undo her belt and take off her pants. She finally lets loose a torrent of piss into the toilet, which I can hear quite clearly because I’m in a loft apartment with no roof on the bathroom. She’s doesn’t stop peeing for nearly two minutes and I’m loving every second of it. Finally she emerges looking relieved, and I make small talk of it. “Wow you really had to pee didn’t you?” “Yeah, I didn’t expect Olivia to order a pizza! That’s the closest I think I’ve ever come to pissing myself!” Finally we sat down on the couch and watched squid came. Tiffany cuddled up against me and fell asleep, and I couldn’t even focus on the show. I’d already experienced the show of a lifetime. Note - names changed. Aside from that this story is 100% genuine and one of my favorite desperation experiences of my life. ­
  18. Ok, so in a discord server I spend a bit of time on sometimes we joke around and reference a certain idea and last time I saw it mentioned I decided to have it drawn. (Also, in case you wonder, character was originally going to be a woman but somoneone suggested that I should make them non-binary instead and my response pretty much was "why not?")
  19. Hi, new here—22/f/United States—I thought I'd post about some experiences in the realm of omo + actual desperation and wetting I've had with my boyfriend, one that happened last night, in particular. Btw, you can call me "A" 🙂 So I'll start with last night: TLDR; that day I had emergency surgery, i.e., a dilation and curettage, to remove a ruptured uterine fibroid. In post-op, one of my docs debriefed me on my discharge instructions and what to expect from my body as it recovers from surgery. One of (the many) things to expect? Incontinence, lasting up to a week. As someone who already deals with mild-moderate stress and urge incontinence, I wrongly thought I knew what was in store for me—though luckily, I did have a 9-pack of Goodnites on hand, sparing me from an embarrassing trip to the CVS across from my apartment. I get dropped off at my apartment around 4:30 pm. Having not had any fluids several hours before arriving at the hospital late that morning, I quite literally toss back a glass of cranberry juice and a 16oz Poland Spring, still wearing the disposable cotton underwear and maxi-pad provided by the hospital. Not even twenty minutes later, as I'm fiddling with the DVD player in my living room above the TV, my bladder begins to void—no warning, no bodily cue letting me know I had to go. Within seconds, I peed through the maxi-pad and disposable underwear, soaking my sweatpants and making a DVD player-sized puddle on the floor. I'm caught off guard by this, but ultimately unfazed—I clean up and put on a Goodnite. 6 pm: I'm on my couch watching a movie, about 2/3 of my way through another Poland Spring, nursing a bowl of chicken noodle soup. My very worried boyfriend (25/m)—who had been utterly in the dark about my surgery until I FaceTimed him in an anesthesia-induced fugue state in post-op—calls me to ask if he can swing by in a couple of hours. I, of course, agree. Thirty-ish minutes later, I feel myself leak, followed by a massive wave of urgency and pressure in my bladder. Caught off guard and, I guess, against my better judgment, I stand up from my position on the couch in an attempt to make it to the bathroom. Immediately, I begin peeing at full force. I grab myself in a semi-successful effort to control the stream, i.e., it slows, but doesn't stop; with my hands between my legs, I make it five feet from the couch before the pressure in my bladder surges beyond my ability to hold on any longer and start to pee uncontrollably. The feeling of involuntarily voiding my bladder makes me reflexively bend over, sending the majority of my stream of pee to the front of my Goodnite, which quickly, and audibly, saturates and overflows. Streams of pee begin running down my bare thighs (all I had on was one of my boyfriend's sweatshirts which, on me, pretty much function as a nightgown) and accumulate in a small puddle at my feet, maybe 5 inches in diameter. Frustrated, but now with an understanding of what the doctor meant when she mentioned "incontinence" as something to expect, I clean the floor, shower from the waist down, put on another Goodnite, and resume watching my movie. My boyfriend (let's call him T so as to avoid the phrase "my boyfriend" littering the remainder of this post umpteen times) comes over at around 8 pm. T is familiar with (and sympathetic to) my weak bladder—I've leaked, unintentionally and intentionally, in front of him before, in situations that contextualize/more or less excuse it, e.g., on walks, hikes, long car rides, etc. I've told him about full-blown accidents I've had; his response is always that "it's cute." However, I've never fully peed myself in front of T. The most I've leaked in front of him—up to this point—is a teacup-sized wet spot on my jeans (this happened earlier this month, on hour three of a seven-hour drive.) And I've certainly never worn, nor desired to wear, protective underwear (let's just call them what they are, diapers) diapers in front of him. He knocks on my door with a bouquet of flowers and card in hand, and we continue watching the movie I'd put on three hours earlier (the movie is Paul Thomas Anderson's 1999 film Magnolia, it's really, absurdly long, but otherwise fabulous). Before T arrived, I'd finished my soup, and had roughly 1/2 of a 20oz bottle of Gatorade—upon his arrival, I'd made each of us a peppermint tea with which, at 8:30, I was just about finished. Around 8:45, the credits roll—T and I are on the couch, his head is nestled in the crook of my neck and shoulder, and my legs are swung over his lap. I shift to place a pillow behind my back, scooching closer to T in the process, and feel a twinge in my bladder—followed by a leak. T seems oblivious, and I don't doubt he is, but given the likelihood and imminence of an accident, I open my mouth to say...something. Something, yeah? Anything. To tell him—tell him... Tell him what, exactly? That his 22-year-old girlfriend has no bladder control, at least for the next few days, and needs to wear a diaper? Well, fuck. Here goes nothing. "This is so embarrassing, but—feel my butt," I say. T shoots me a look best described as curiously amused and reaches under my sweatpants (the same pair I'd had an accident in earlier, they'd finished in the wash before T came). For lack of a better term: he gently feels up my padded butt. With his hand still there, I shake my head, breaking eye contact, "I—it's protective underwear," I swallow. "Just—with the surgery—you know, not for forever...for a couple of days, though, I can't—I can't really hold it, like, when I need to pee." I look back up at him. "Can I see what they look like?" asks T. I must look a little taken aback, because T shoots me another look as if to say, "Don't be weird." Sheepishly, I lower the band of my sweatpants. T moves the hand he has on my butt to graze the fabric of the top of the Goodnite, putting a negligible (but in my case, substantial) amount of pressure on my bladder, causing me to spurt. I bite my lip to stop the flow, which must look like my discomfort related to T's touch, who gently lifts his hand. "Don't be embarrassed, I don't care," he says. "I—I'm not embarrassed, it's, um," I stutter, squirming as more pee dribbles out of my urethra. "I just—I need to pee, like, now, and I can't, you know, I can't really hold—" T cuts me off. "Just go." To my surprise, my eyes well up with tears. "It's embarrassing," I say, quietly. T hoists me onto his lap; the motion of this, of course, causes my bladder to spasm, and, against my will, my detrusor muscle relaxes. Continuing to squirm and futilely squeeze my thighs together, I begin peeing uncontrollably into my Goodnite, on my boyfriend's lap. I pee at full force for 45 seconds before the stream of pee wanes to a dribble, and am fleetingly put at ease upon making the judgment that the Goodnite has managed to contain the wetness, when my bladder spasms again. Pee begins audibly hissing against my swollen Goodnite before soaking the fabric of the seat of my sweatpants - my boyfriend's sweatpants. The stream tapers off soon after this, but not before my pee pools onto my boyfriend's lap, saturating his jeans. Slackjawed, I mumble, "I—I couldn't hold it, I really—I couldn't hold it." I feel T nod and gently begin to pet the back of my head. We sit for a minute before T helps me change. I put his jeans and my sweatpants—his sweatpants—in the wash. I'm apologizing profusely at ten or twenty-second intervals throughout all of this, of course, which T responds to by covering his ears and kissing my forehead. 10:00 pm, probably: T insists I go to bed while the washing machine finishes. 11:00 pm, maybe: T takes the clothes out of the dryer. 12:15 pm: Next to me, T reads the second-to-last chapter of his book, when he feels - well, hears - hears the sloshing of me shifting positions in bed, specifically, and reaches his hand between my thighs to check if I'm dry, which I am - albeit not for long; T leaves his hand there for some time, likely weighing his options— To wake me, or not to wake me, that is the question / Whether 'tis nobler in the mind... —and decides to do the latter, which means one thing: he thinks I'm asleep. I'm very much awake. ***More experiences in story form soon, I promise! This took me way longer to write than anticipated, though, so I'm cutting myself off for the day, lol*** Xoxo, A
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