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Found 39 results

  1. Here4theFun

    Jessie wetting team rocket

    From the album: Requests

    adore your style! If you could do Musashi from team rocket with a huge extended belly, that would be AMAZING. GIVE us that great ahegao face of release
  2. Here4theFun

    Jessie Team rocket desperation

    From the album: Requests

    adore your style! If you could do Musashi from team rocket with a huge extended belly, that would be AMAZING. GIVE us that great ahegao face of release
  3. First time I encounter one of her videos. Have seen her bladder bulge pics many times. Video title: Playing with my big big full bladder! Pass is pixxxie Warning: nudity and gorgeous boobs No wetting happens, just some leaking.
  4. Hey everyone. Since I got a new computer, I decided to make a new story on here. This time not interactive, I'm afraid, since the last few interactive stories I made sort of petered out and never got going again, I figured I'd just do a regular story and see where it goes. I hope to get a lot of chapters of this done, so let's-a go. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP "Ugh..." Jessie rolled over in bed, turning off her alarm. It had been 2 days since she decided to board the space station, and while she loved it, mostly because she loved space, what she didn't love was how early she had to get up every morning. It was a rigid schedule, and one she had never been used to following. The blonde girl got out of bed, letting her straight shoulder-length hair fall down as she stepped into some slippers. She had been sleeping only in a shirt and panties, as she was prone to do. Jessie yawned as she walked drowsily to the bathroom. After doing her business she stripped and got in the shower. The water was cold at first, but it quickly warmed up. Another thing she loved about this space station, there was always warm water. Something she didn't always have at her apartment back home. After showering, Jessie dried off and went out to her wardrobe, picking out her clothes for the day. Luckily they didn't have any strict regimens about what the passengers could or could not wear. They did have specified uniforms, but those were only for missions that called for them, like skin-boilingly hot planets, or planets with a dangerous atmosphere. After a few minutes, Jessie decided to put on a plain white t-shirt and black shorts, as well as some comfortable flats. Walking out of her room, the cold, sterile look of the giant lobby of the station made her frown. "This place could use some redecorating," she said to herself as she walked up to a large console in the center of the room. This could tell her where the ship was going. She noticed it was headed for Octon VIII, a planet which was known for etiquette and good practices. Great, she'd have to be on her best behaviour. At least it wouldn't be landing there until the next morning. Until then she was free to goof off if she wanted to. Noticing her stomach growling, Jessie took an elevator down, to the largest cafeteria she had ever seen in her life. It had been 2 days, and she had been there at least 6 times, but she was still in awe of how massive it was. As she looked around at all the different food shops, oddly enough none of which were name brand, she decided on a bagel place - fittingly, one of the only shops open at 7 in the morning. As Jessie sat down to eat, she bumped into one of the other passengers. "Sup, Jessica?" Jessie tensed up hearing her full name, but then smiled over at her friend Marie. The blonde started eating, drinking a lot since the bagel was pretty dry. "Not a lot, Marie. Just woke up. Pretty tired. Y'know, the usual." Marie chuckled. "Yeah, I get that." The taller girl had black curly hair, brown eyes and a bit of a pudgy body, which also meant D-cup breasts. Jessie felt a little jealous, since her skinny frame only allowed for B-cups, but she wasn't about to admit it. "So, um..." Jessie looked around in her mind for something to discuss. "You... looking forward to visiting our first new planet?" They had already been to close planets, ones that everyone knew about, but this would be the first one that no human had ever been to. "Yeah! Octon sounds cool! I hear they've got some strict practices there, though..." The duo talked for a little while, even long after their respective breakfasts were finished, and they went their separate ways. Jessie decided to explore the ship a little more, something she didn't really have time to do either of the previous days. They'd be landing the next morning, so while they were in flight there wasn't much they strictly had to do. Jessie got onto the elevator and pressed the button for one floor up. It wasn't quite the residential areas, so she wanted to see what was there. She took her drink with her, which she thought was a good idea. As the blonde arrived on the next floor, she saw that it was like one giant mall. It had all sorts of shops and stands and kiosks... it even had a huge fountain! Jessie smiled, and realized her bladder was filling up a little. She checked her watch... 8:00!? She figured she and Marie must've been talking for a while longer than she thought they were. Ignoring the feelings, since they weren't even that strong yet, Jessie did a little window shopping. She spent a while walking around and looking in through the shop windows, seeing what there was. Some had some really neat-looking alien devices and gadgets, Jessie wondered what they did. After about an hour and a half, Jessie noticed her bladder twinge. "Aah..." she looked down at the bottle in her hand. The drink was really good, it was like and orange juice mixed with some other kind of juice, maybe guava or mango or something, but the bottle had sort of an alien look to it... it was probably a stronger diuretic than most Earth drinks. "Dammit..." She looked around for any sort of toilet, but she couldn't see any, at least not any close ones. Walking over to another panel, this one with a map loaded, she checked where she was and looked up to see if there were any bathrooms on the floor. "Oh, shit..." she noticed one on the other side of the floor. "I-it's so far away..." She was only about 6/10, but it was still a little hard to hold. Jessie pressed her legs together a little as she walked slowly but surely towards the elevator, which wasn't as far as the bathrooms were. "W-why is this damn place so big?" she wondered aloud, as she pressed the elevator button. She figured if she could get to her room and use the bathroom there it'd be the shortest route. As the elevator arrived, Jessie saw another of her shipmates, Zoe. Her green hair (probably dyed) came down to her neck. Her flat chest made her look a little androgynous sometimes, but she never seemed to mind. "Where to?" Zoe asked. "U-up to my room, please." Jessie tried to stand still, standing upright to try and make it seem like she didn't need to pee. Zoe would take full advantage of that. She wasn't mean, but she would sometimes playfully tease the others. Zoe nodded and pressed the elevator button, before taking a water bottle out of her pocket, taking a big sip. She put the cap on and held it in her hand, which was fidgeting a bit, making the water swirl around. The sound was enough to make Jessie squirm. Zoe looked over at her and smirked a little, intentionally making the water bottle shake a little more. "Ngh..." Jessie closed her eyes, before finally the elevator dinged and they got up to her floor. "Th-thanks, Zoe!" She ran out and headed towards her room. She was definitely at a 7, maybe an 8/10 now, that drink was really working! 2 hours and she was at an 8/10, she figured the drink must be pretty strong! As Jessie walked towards her room she had to put a hand on her crotch to try and hold it all in, even having to stop a couple of times on the way so she didn't leak. Finally as she got to her door she opened it with her keycard and ran inside, heading straight to the bathroom. "J-just in time..." she got her shorts off as she sat down on the toilet, letting the torrent go. "Ahhhh..." She closed her eyes happily, the release felt good. After she was finished, Jessie heard a knock on her door. She opened it, only to find a package. "Huh..." She grabbed the package and took it inside, opening it up on her bed. It was a small grey disc with a button on it. She pressed the button and a blue-ish hologram came out. "Greetings. You've probably heard that we are on course for the planet Octon VIII," came the familiar voice of the commander, the one who talks to them from somewhere off the ship. She assumed he was still on Earth somewhere. Fair enough, she supposed, he was a busy man. "On this trip it is crucial that you are all on your best behaviour. Wear some fancier clothes, and make sure if you take a drink you don't spill a drop. The people of this planet are extremely picky about etiquette and you will be put to death if even a single drop of any liquid spills on their ground. And they will know, since their ground is super fertile, and will start sprouting the minute any liquid touches it." Jessie tried hard to memorize the information, as the hologram disc looked expensive, like something she wasn't allowed to keep. "We will be landing at about 6 am. You must be up and ready by 8, as that is when we will be meeting with their people. Do not be late. Over and out." Jessie took the disc back out of her room, looking for a place to put it, before being told by one of the robot maids that she could, in fact, keep it. "Oh! Um... thank you." She smiled and pocketed the small device. "It's amazing the technology they managed to find for this place." At about noon, Jessie had some lunch and enjoyed an off-brand cola. It wasn't Coke, but it was still nice. She wondered why so many of the things on the ship were off-brand. Probably because it was an experimental thing that was only proposed the last year. Another couple of hours later and the blonde found herself in a movie theater. "This place is massive..." she muttered to herself as she looked around. A few hours later, around 5:00, she had some dinner, and a large smoothie. One she blended herself, using various fruits she had stored in the fridge in her room. As well as some ice cream. It was more like a milkshake, but Jessie called it a smoothie. She went out to the big console again and checked the course. They were getting pretty close. Doing some research on the planet, she found out that the planet is completely natural. No man-made structures. "What do they do when they...?" she was interrupted by Marie, who hugged her from behind. "Jessie!" Marie smiled. "You ready? This planet's gonna be so cool! It's like a gigantic forest, with some plains thrown in!" "Heh, yeah..." Jessie was a little worried, not as ecstatic about it as Marie seemed to be. "Um, it says here that there are no manmade structures on the entirety of the planet." "Huh... neat!" Marie smiled more. She was always overly-enthusiastic. It warmed Jessie's heart to see. "Yeah, I guess it is." Jessie smiled a bit. "What's wrong?" Marie asked. "You nervous?" Jessie nodded. "We're going to another planet, what if we break a rule? What if they arrest us?" "Don't worry," Marie said, "We'll be fine!" And with that she got up and left. Jessie thought about it a bit more and nodded. She knew they'd be fine. 5 hours later and the planet was within sight from any of the giant reinforced windows that lined the ship's exterior. Jessie looked out at it from her room's single window. "Wow..." She smiled. "So beautiful... no wonder we're going there." Jessie noticed the time. "Uh-oh! I'd better get moving if I want to get to bed in time!" She quickly went in and showered. She did need to use the bathroom again, so the water running over her half-full bladder made her squirm a little, but she could hold it fine. As Jessie exited the bathroom, after relieving herself one last time, she put on some comfy sleepwear and went right to bed. The next morning, Jessie woke up and looked at her clock. "Oh man, 7:30. I slept in a bit. That's ni-" she suddenly realized what that meant. "7:30!? We're meeting at 8!" She rushed out of bed, jumping in for a 5-minute shower, not even waiting for the water to really warm up, before putting on some more formal clothes - a blue button-up shirt and black dress pants - and heading out the door, ignoring her bladder completely. It had really filled that night, she was very full, but she figured it was better she not be late! As Jessie headed to the gigantic bay doors, she saw the other passengers all gathered around. "There you are!" Marie smiled, hugging her friend tightly, putting unwanted pressure on the girl's bladder. Jessie squirmed and hugged back, before Marie let her go and she crossed her legs. "Um... w-when will this be over?" "I dunno. A couple hours, maybe?" Marie shrugged. Jessie's eyes grew wide and she considered leaving to go and use the bathroom, as even when she first woke up she was at a 7/10, but soon the doors opened and the crew was led off the ship and into a nice, lush forest, full of every tree imaginable. Even some that didn't exist on Earth. Jessie tried to keep herself focused on not letting herself leak, as she remembered the warning about these people being ultra clean freaks and not wanting anything spilled. She took shallower breaths than normal, to try and keep herself dry. The group was led past the forest, to a huge field that had been set up with chairs. Apparently flown in from another planet, as these people don't have anything man-made. Jessie looked around to see if she could see if there had maybe been a bathroom flown in too, but she saw nothing. She sat down and crossed her legs tightly. Unfortunately for the desperate blonde, there was a waterfall right nearby. She bounced in her chair, squeezing her muscles tightly to try and keep it in. A few 'presenters' came on, even a hologram of their ship's commander. Jessie could barely focus, the sound of the rushing water making her hold herself. She really didn't want to do that, at least not in front of so many people, not in her fancy clothes, but she had no choice. She was at an 8/10, getting worse by the moment. Conversations dragged on, people spoke to one another. The scenery was brilliant, the trees decorated everything nicely, and the planet's emerald green sky looked beautiful, and coated the trees and grass, enhancing the green and making them stand out more. It was pretty warm, too, a nice and warm 23 Celsius. Jessie couldn't really focus on that, however, as she was just about ready to pop. The 20-something blonde was constantly squirming in her chair, unable to keep still, as she squeezed her muscles shut, her peehole twitching underneath her dress pants and plain black panties. Her hands were placed firmly between her legs and her legs were crossed so tightly that her hands were actually starting to hurt. People had turned to look at her, but she didn't care. She was at 10/10, and needed a bathroom immediately. The conversation had been going on for a while now, and Jessie felt like her bladder was going to burst. As she looked down to check she noticed it was actually bulging out. Putting a solitary finger on it and pressing in very lightly nearly made her lose it. Jessie crossed her legs tighter, wrapping one around the other with a small whimper. She was sweating, but not from the heat. She looked around, and her eyes focused on the waterfall. The green sky gave it a slightly yellow tint... it almost looked like... "NGH!!"" She grabbed herself tighter, her feet banging against the ground. She needed to keep herself dry, under threat of the death penalty... or at least, that's what she had been told. She wasn't sure if it was completely true... but even if it wasn't, she'd face humiliation in front of her peers and at least a dozen members of this alien community. Finally the event ended and Jessie got up, the sudden change enough to shake her bladder around, sloshing its contents all around and making her almost lose her balance. She tried to walk back towards the ship, but it was a long walk, and she wasn't sure she could make it... "Hey, Jessie!" Zoe patted her on the back, making her shudder. "Me and a couple of the other girls are gonna go swimming. Wanna come along?" Swimming would definitely make her lose it! "Um... n-no thanks, I-I'm alr-right...!" "Aww, c'mon! You never get to go swimming when we're on the ship! Grab your swimsuit, we wanna party!" "I-I thought w-we had t-to s-stay fancy..." Jessie said, her legs quivering. "We did!" Zoe said. "But they said now we can do whatever. II asked if we could swim and they shrugged and said sure. Apparently even a few of the natives are gonna join us." "W-wow..." Jessie nodded. She figured if she went inside to get changed, she could use that time to go the the bathroom, so she nodded. "O-okay, I'll be out soon!" She smiled and turned around, walking as quickly as she could back to the ship. Finally she got back, the giant doors opening for her as she walked back to her room. She had to stop to hold herself a number of times, almost spilling her contents entirely onto the ship's floor. 11/10, her desperation had skyrocketed and was only going to get worse if she didn't get to the bathroom soon. Finally, Jessie got to her room and opened the door. "U-uhh..." she noticed a maid's cleaning tools outside of her bathroom door, much to her horror. "N-n-no... no no n-n-no..." she walked over and banged on the door. "Cleaning!" was the only response she got. "I-I need i-it n-now!" She yelled, banging on the door. "It can't be used right now, not for a while." Jessie tried the door, but it was firmly locked. She figured the others were probably waiting for her, and she wanted out of this stuffy outfit anyway (she never did like dressing up), so she walked up to her wardrobe and got undressed. Looking at her nude figure in the mirror, Jessie saw her bulging bladder. It looked... weirdly impressive, in a way. Like she was going for a world record or something. Suddenly, a small couple of drops leaked out and Jessie grabbed herself tightly again, her now-exposed pussy quivering as she walked slowly back over to her wardrobe, grabbing her 2-piece swimsuit and quickly slipping it on. It was a nice light blue... which would mean any little stain would show up instantly. She smiled, fighting back tears as she put the top on, keeping her legs firmly and tightly crossed so she could have at least 1 hand free. Her bladder bulge was much more pronounced in this form-fitting attire than it was in the fancy clothes, she wondered if people would notice and point it out. As she stepped outside her room, something she didn't think she'd be doing without first using the bathroom, Jessie noticed the floor of the ship was nice and warm. Not too hot, but being made of metal it had retained some of the heat from the planet. She wasn't sure she'd still be holding onto her massive load of piss if she stepped her shaky bare feet onto a freezing metal floor, so she was thankful for that. As her room's door closed behind her she grabbed herself through the bikini, walking slowly back to the giant doors. As Jessie stepped back outside, she looked for the girls and noticed they were in the water already... right under a waterfall. She gasped and crossed her legs MUCH tighter than before, her whole body quivering from the pressure. She managed to compose herself and walked over, dipping a toe in the water. It was a little cool, making her almost lose a lot of her load, but she held on tightly, tighter than ever before, and stepped into the water. The girls noticed her massive bladder bulge as she stepped into the water, and Zoe looked at it curiously. "What happened?" she asked. "Huh? W-what do y-y-you mean?" Jessie responded, trying not to let the water constantly pouring out just a few feet from her get to her or make her lose it. "I mean this!" Zoe poked at her bladder bulge and Jessie gasped, closing her eyes and grabbing herself again, backing up right into the waterfall. That made her gasp even more as the cool water pouring over her made her bladder twitch and spasm. "I-I-I..." She breathed shallowly, almost holding her breath at this point. 13/10. Explosion imminent. Zoe put an arm around her, the other girls looking concerned. "You okay?" she asked. "I-I c-c-can't h-h-hold it..." she crossed her legs under the water. She had never, ever held this much before, not even close. She quickly got out of the water (which dried up on her instantly so as not to spill anything on the planet's surface) and was immediately crippled by the pressure, falling to her knees. "A-a-aaah..." Marie, who had been talking with some of the others, saw this and approached her. "Gotta pee?" she asked. Jessie simply nodded in response. "Can you hold it just a little longer?" Jessie looked up at her. "W-w-why?" "I can lead you to my room and let you use my toilet." Jessie nodded. "Th-th-thanks M-Marie..." she felt some yellow liquid pressing against the inside of her urethra and she fought it back, squeezing harder. Finally she got back to her feet, walking as quickly as she could, which was still at a snail's pace, with Marie. Marie, looking concerned for her friend, had an idea. "Hey, c'mon." "H-huh? W-where a-a-are w-we g-going?" she asked. "My room's too far, we're going to the cafeteria." Jessie nodded, just wanting to be able to see as soon as possible. She felt her pee right up against her, she brought it back again but it took a lot of effort. She squeezed her muscles tighter, squirming and pressing her legs right together. She would have crossed them, and crossed them tightly, if she could while walking, but she had to settle for this. She was surprised she could even still walk at the moment. As she was walking, Jessie looked down at her poor, distended, twitching bladder bulge. It looked like it felt: like it was about to pop. Like a water balloon threatened by a million pins. As they finally got to the elevator, Jessie leaned against the back wall and crossed her legs tighter than before. So tight that she swore she'd cut off the circulation to one of her legs if she kept like that for long enough. As they got to the cafeteria floor they saw one of their shipmates, Jamie, drinking one of those tropical orange juices from the bagel place. It was sloshing around, and she even had some on her shirt. Jamie was always a bit clumsy. This sight made Jessie lose a little, leaking onto the cafeteria floor. "E-eepp!" She held herself tightly, falling to her knees again. "What's with her?" Jamie asked. "Oh, she's gotta-" before Marie could finish her sentence, however, Jamie tripped, her drink flying out of her hand and spilling all over Jessie. Jessie gasped. The sudden chill of the cold drink. The yellow tint. The wetness. It was all too much, and just like that, the floodgates opened. Her pee poured out of her like a faucet, soaking her bathing suit as she tried but failed to stand up, struggling. Tears filled Jessie's eyes as she looked up at Marie. The yellow stuff still flowing out of her, Jessie looked down to see her bladder bulge shrinking. And it felt amazing. The sudden release of all that built-up pressure was almost orgasmic. She actually almost moaned. Her body shivered from the bliss of release, something it had been denied for about 12 full hours. As it kept going, Jamie was no longer the only one watching, as a couple other people, mostly cafeteria staff, gathered around as the seconds turned into over a minute. There was a huge puddle Jessie was now sitting in, and Marie and Jamie had moved away from. As she finally finished, Jessie, now having regained strength in her legs, quickly got up and tried to run, but ended up tripping and falling. She got up again, this time more carefully, and walked to the cafeteria bathroom. She teared up a bit more as she saw herself in the mirror. She had peed herself in front of at least 5 people, her bathing suit was soaked through. She couldn't keep wearing it! ...Right? She could always pass it off like she was swimming... but the smell might give it away. Plus, she'd know, and she'd be disgusted. She was easily grossed out by that kind of thing... if it was a skirt, then maybe, but this was clung tightly to her body. Plus... Jessie had always been a little bit of a closeted exhibitionist, so... this might be exciting. she saw it, if nothing else, as an opportunity. If anyone asked, she'd have an excuse. As Jessie took off her bikini, she realized she didn't have her keycard with her. She cursed under her breath and, covering her exposed pussy and B-cups with either hand, she walked out of the bathroom. Being naked in the cafeteria was weird. She'd always thought about doing something like this, but actually doing it made her heart pound. She made her way quickly over to the elevator and pressed the button, hoping nobody could see her bare butt from where she was. Jessie was a fairly modest girl, so carrying her wet bikini in one hand while running around in the nude was certainly strange. As she got onto the elevator, with someone else on it, she retreated into the corner so they couldn't stare at her butt. "D-don't look at me... please..." The person shrugged as the elevator came to a stop. Jessie got off and ran out, making her way to a laundry hamper that one of the maids left outside a room and quickly dumping her bathing suit inside. "There... n-now to just..." She took the opportunity to search through the clothes, but as expected they were all dirty, since it was a laundry hamper. "Ugh..." She quickly ran, luckily she knew there was an office on her floor. The receptionist could give her a new keycard. Having to go and talk to someone, naked, made it even more thrilling, and she could feel herself getting wet in a different way. As she walked through, she started to relax, even relaxing her hands, since she seemed to be the only one on the floor. Unfortunately, however, as she turned a particular corner, a bunch of people were coming in, and a few noticed the naked blonde. "EEEP!" She gasped and ran, covering her body again. A couple of them pulled out their phones to take pictures, but she was long gone by that point. Thoroughly embarrassed and humiliated from before, she finally made it to the receptionist's office. "I-I..." She tried to think of a lie, and the best she came up with was "I... l-lost my clothes... could I get a new keycard, please?" The receptionist blushed and nodded, handing her one. Jessie took it, briefly uncovering her breasts to do so. "Th-thanks...!!" She figured it was not the most rational decision to strip, but she really didn't want to stay soaked like that for so long... plus, her exhibitionism and general kinkiness took over her rational mind at the time. As Jessie ran out, she made her way back to her room and used the keycard to open the door, making her way inside and flopping down on her bed. "I can't believe that happened." She thought about the whole event in her mind, and realized... after that day, nobody on the ship would look at her the same way again. She just hoped her bladder would never, ever get that full again. Jessie quickly got dressed again, before sitting on her bed, going over the situation in her mind again and again, remembering every little detail... and hoping against hope itself that on the next planet, fate wouldn't be so cruel. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So, that's the first chapter! As always, feedback is heavily appreciated.
  5. Despholder

    Bursting with a big bulge

    Have posted this in interactive stories as well, not quite sure where the place is for an interactive real desperation. I have last peed 6 hours ago when I woke up, I have drank a large coffee (500ml) and just finished this bottle of 2.5L of Pepsi. You can see how full I am, My bladder has a big bulge and is rock solid.I am getting very desperate but don't want to give in no matter what until it just rushes out despite my best attempts, I just love the feeling. I don't know how long I will still be able to hang on, but please come with ideas and suggestions on how to torture this bulging bladder even more. Also let me know if you would like to see more. Try to hurry:-) This great feeling of pain and pressure that makes you dance.
  6. I've been gone for a little while and have delayed some other request but I'll be getting back on them soon! I haven't been completely inactive in terms of art, but drawing the comics was draining while also going to summer school for art. I decided to make this thread (Not for requests, yet) to post stuff I work on outside of my comics thats omorashi/lewd related. First one is a bit of an experimental gif I drew for the same OC I use for most of my comics (2 of 3, not very impressive). In the future I might transition my comic posts to this one since the title of my original thread is misleading, but for now it'll be used for the purpose stated above. If anyone who requested a comic from me sees this feel free to pester me on discord (Gabbr#0080) or in my inbox on this site! I left off in the middle of making a comic, and you know who you are and I'm sorry about that. I'll be getting back on it soon. For now please enjoy the brief gif!
  7. There is a list of people I’d like to thank before we get to the story. I’d like to thank @Bulge_Lover for being my editor and inspiring me to write medieval themed stories. Had it not been for him, I would have never taken to writing about medieval stuff. He has always been there for me and motivated me whenever I needed it. Thank you so much my friend! Your advice has always proved to be helpful. Thank you so much for everything. It wouldn’t have been possible without you! I’d like thank @KozmoFox for reviewing my work when it was still at a nascent stage. Thank you so much! You are an inspiration and your guidance was really helpful! I got to learn so much from you. Thank you! It wouldn’t have been possible without you! Thank you @OmoCommando for editing the first part of this story for me. You were truly kind and helpful and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me with my work. I’d like to thank @holditin for always inspiring me with his works and giving me the strength to believe that I can write whatever I love to write. Thank you so much buddy! You truly are an inspiration! And in the end, I’d like to thank @full-bladder12 for always motivating me and pushing me to keep writing omorashi! Thank you so much for supporting my work! I owe you big time! Thank you! Coming to the story, it is the sequel to my previous work, A Song of Swords, which I’m sure some of you might have read. It has a medieval setup which means it highly underlines the medieval practice of violence, though I promise you it was all necessary for the story. The story is built upon the base of the great fantasy works famous throughout the world, which will be evident once you begin the journey. These great works of literature have always inspired me and I’ve always wanted my work to be a reflection of them. I hope I’ve done justice to the great writers who have written these stories and to my readers as well. ---------------------------------- The Rains Of War CHAPTER- I THE CITY OF THE GODS The loud cry of warhorns, the screech and thud of catapults tossing stones, the crashes and splinters, the crackle of burning pitch, the fling of scorpions releasing their iron headed shafts, the ceaseless clangour of bells... and with it all, the cries of dying men. The sounds of battle pervaded the halls of the King’s Fort, where in a bunker the trestle tables were filled with the highborn ladies of the city, along with a handful of old men and young boys. The Queen had promised they all would be safe here. She sat on the high dais with her son, Prince Iwan. Her gown had a shade of green, like the colour of the sea after a storm. Her hair was tied in a bun and around her slender neck hung a rope of diamonds and emeralds. She signalled for her mug of beer to be refilled while the others quietly went at their broth. They had been here since morning, since the first report of the advancing enemy had reached the castle, praying to the mother as their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers and nephews prepared for battle. Though silence prevailed in the room, the air was heavy with fear, Queen Charlotte could sense it. If they were to lose this war, the Daltons would not spare even a single one of them. They had been raiding her father’s lands ever since she had managed to slip out of their clutches almost a year ago. Towns were brutally sacked, the buildings burned, the bodies of men, women and children butchered in the streets and left as fodder for rats and carrion crows. The long struggle had left the Torrington forces tired, beaten and broken trying to defend their lands from the enemy’s incessant onslaught. For long now, the Queen had worried about what would happen if Lord Reynard decided to march for Godswick. There was nothing to stop him from taking the city and the throne, and now all her fears were coming true. The attack she had dreaded for so long was at last at hand. The news of the approaching Dalton army had incited terror in the city streets. Thousands of smallfolk had streamed out the city gates in these past few days, carrying their children and their worldly possessions on their backs to seek safety in the country side, while others dug pits and tunnels under their hovels, dark clammy holes where they hoped to hide whilst the city burned. Riots had broken out all over the city as mobs surged through the streets, looting as they went. Hundreds died in stampedes, women were raped, and young ones had been plucked from their mothers’ breasts. The city guard lost over a hundred of their men trying to control the crowd. The Queen had ordered the city gates to be closed and barred days ago, sending watchmen to the walls and dispatching pigeons to Longford, carrying a message for her brother Walter, pleading him to come to her aid at once. As well, she had commanded pigeons to be sent to all the lords loyal to the crown, summoning them to the defence of their Queen, but most of them were afraid to stand against the Daltons and those who weren’t had already been put to sword. The city stood defenceless, like a lamb before a pack of wolves and the fate of the crown now rested in the hands of the almighty. The broth was followed by a salad of diced red-skinned apples, celery, grapes, chopped walnuts and yogurt. However scared, the guests ate whatever was served to them, though not the Queen, her plate was left untouched. After the salad came roast fowl, served along with frumenty and cabbage pottage, trailed by mutton roasted with leeks and carrots, served in trenchers of hollowed bread along with chicken covered with yolks and sprinkled with spices. The war raged outside the city walls till late at night. Thousands lost their lives, some only their arms or legs. The city was an image of blood, mud, fire and smoke. Arrows, rocks, screams and curses flew freely in the air. The guardians of the city fought bravely till the wee hours of morning but when the tide of the battle started turning in favour of the Daltons, their courage deserted them. Many threw down their weapons and ran, many yielded, but the most devastating blow to the city came when the captains commanding the twelve gates were murdered by their own men. A bit of coin had weakened the loyalty of those who were thought to be the city’s protectors. The city gates were opened to the Dalton army. For all the vaunted strength of its walls, Godswick fell in less than a day. A bloody fight waged at one of the gates where a few knights and men-at-arms still loyal to the crown tried to fight the enemies and hold against attacks both from inside the city and out, but their courage was for vain as Lord Reynard’s army poured in through the other gates unmolested. The realization that they were vastly outnumbered took the heart out of the Queen’s men. When they saw that resistance was futile, the members of the royal council surrendered the keys to the castle, bowing their heads in defeat, and ordered the knights and men-at-arms to lay down their swords. Though he had conquered the city, Lord Reynard’s triumph was far from complete. The Dalton soldiers stormed the castle and killed everyone they could find. But when they broke down the doors of the bunker they only found a flock of frightened women. The Queen had fled with her son, along with the knights Barnabus Ricaud, Mark Ambrose, and Robyn Hawksworth of the Queensguard. Not even the members of the council seemed to know where they had gone, and none had seen them pass through the city gates. CHAPTER- II WELCOME Rain lashed at Charlotte's face as she spurred her horse across the swollen stream. Beside her, Sir Mark gave the reins a tug and his mount neighed in response. A cold wind made the trees dance and sent the wet leaves flapping around them. She looked back at Iwan and hoped he could keep up. Though the Prince was now all of eleven, he still was not a good rider even in fair weather, and a whole day of rain had left the ground muddy with hidden rocks. The wind brought the water right into Charlotte’s eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her sodden and itching, her butt sore after the long ride. The sound of steady wash of rain against leaves filled her ears. It was mid-afternoon, yet the forest seemed as dark as dusk. All the beer and water she had drunk since yesterday sloshed inside her cavernous bladder, yet she rode on without a thought of it. Even now she felt no more than a slight urge for relief. The cold air made her shivery and her fingers felt stiff, she longed for a fire and a little tea to warm her. They wove a path between rocks and puddles, past great oaks, grey-green sentinels, and black-barked ironwoods. In places the branches wove a canopy overhead and she found a moment's respite from the drumming of the rain against her head. From a distance, she could see the massive walls and stout towers of Tilsworth. Green banners flew from its battlements, displaying the graceful golden deer of its lord. Lord Gilbert Furnival had been a loyal support to her father and had followed him into many wars without doubts or questions. She knew he would protect her and her son. When they got close enough a knight rode out to meet them. His armour was grey, but his cloak was the rippling green and black of Tilsworth. “Who goes there? State your purpose.” “Sir Mark Ambrose, with Her Highness Queen Charlotte and Prince Iwan,” the Queensguard answered. The knight lifted his visor. “I thought the lady looked familiar. It is a pleasure to have you both here, my Queen and my Prince,” he bowed. “May we enter the castle?” Sir Barnabus asked. The knight nodded in agreement. “In the name of Robert Furnival, Lord of Tilsworth, I bid you enter freely, and charge you to keep his peace.” “Robert?” Charlotte’s voice sounded her confusion, “I’m here to meet Lord Gilbert, his father.” “Forgive my man’s folly, my Queen,” she heard Robert call as he approached, guarded by half a dozen men-at-arms of his own. “My Lord father awaits you inside the castle.” He smiled and bowed. “My apologies he couldn’t be here to greet you, his health keeps him confined to his chambers.” Her mind found itself restless, her body a victim of fatigue. All she wanted to do now was take a long piss and go to sleep. Dulled by exhaustion, she nodded at Sir Mark. Stable boys took their horses from there and they walked inside afoot. “This way, if it please you, my Queen,” the Lord showed them the way, “You honour us greatly by being our guest, Your Highness.” But before she could respond to Lord Robert’s greetings, they came across something in the courtyard they would have never imagined … though Lord Gilbert’s charred corpse was burned beyond all recognition, hanging from the gallows; only by the jade ring he used to wear on his left thumb did Charlotte know him. The blood drained from the Queen’s cheeks, but young Prince Iwan was the first to realize what it meant. “Mother, run!” he shouted, but it was too late. Lord Robert’s men, over forty strong, fell upon the three Queensguard. An axe took Sir Robyn Hawksworth’s head before his sword could come out of its scabbard, and Sir Barnabus was stabbed through the back with a spear. Men closed from both sides. Sir Mark Ambrose reached back over his shoulder, ripped his sword from its sheath, and buried the blade in the head of the first man to come at him. Bronze was no match for steel. The blow sheared right through the guard’s helm and deep into his skull, Sir Mark kicked on his shoulder to free his sword, which came out blanketed with blood. Steel rang on steel as he danced with his sword and corpses fell to his feet, one after the other before a spear pierced through the back of his neck. Blood sprouted from his mouth as he choked with the fall and with him died the last of the Queen’s defenders. “Sir Mark Ambrose.... the greatest swordsman to ever walk....,” Robert smiled as he looked at the dead bodies lying all around him. Charlotte pulled her son to her chest,“Why?!” she yelled, tears welling from her eyes, the terror of her life stopping the words in her throat. For a moment she had thought she was safe. “Sometimes the old must go, to make place for the new. King Reynard is the new lord of the twelve kingdoms and anyone who denies his claim will die, just like my old Lord father did,” Robert stated. He signalled his guards with his head and they pulled Iwan away from her. “Mother!” he shouted. “No!” she screamed, trying to fight the men but to no gain. Her son was gone, she could not see him anymore. Where had they taken him? She did not know. CHAPTER- III DARK Her eyes had never starved for light like this ever before. There were no windows, no bed, no goblets made of gold that she was used to. Only darkness. She remembered walls of black stone, incompletely covered in a blanket of moss, a brownish door of splintered wood, four inches thick and studded with iron. She had seen them, briefly, a quick glimpse as they shoved her inside. Once the door had slammed shut, she had seen no more. The dark was absolute. She now knew how it might feel to be blind. The dungeon was under the castle, deeper than she dared imagine. Robert’s face seemed to float before her in the darkness. His shrewd, cunning eyes, his smile reflecting mockery. She wept when she thought of Iwan, though as silently as she could. The thought of him was as painful as a sword through the heart. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She wondered whether she would ever see him again. For how long she had been here she did not know. There was no sun and no moon. Charlotte closed her eyes and opened them; it made no difference. She slept and woke and slept again. She did not know which was more horrifying, waking or sleeping. When she slept, she dreamed of death and blood, and when she woke, all she could think of was about the same. Her bladder was jutting out of her abdomen now, filled with three days worth of piss. She knew she was in a dungeon, she knew she was alone and no one would see her if she decided to relieve herself here on the floor, but her pride stopped her. She was a lady, and a proper lady always and only relieved herself in a privy or a chamber pot and nowhere else. She was half-asleep when the footsteps came down the hall. Water, she thought. When the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sudden light was painful to her eyes, though she had grown used to it in this short while. The gaoler thrust a jug at her. The clay was cool and beaded with moisture. She grasped it with both hands and drank eagerly till it was empty. They brought her water every three to four hours but every time she drank it like she’d been thirsty for days. Something made her throat dry, maybe it was the fear. “How long..?” she asked weakly. The gaoler was an ugly man with a pot belly and bald, clad in a mail shirt and a leather half cape. “No talking,” he said as he pulled the jug from her hands. “Please,” Charlotte said, “my son...,” The door crashed shut. She blinked as the light vanished, lowered her head to her chest, and curled up on the straw. She could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. For as long as her spirit and strength gave her consent, she begged the man for some word of her son and the world beyond her cell. Grunts and kicks were her only replies. Later, when the stomach cramps began, she begged for food instead. Though they did not feed her, the gaoler brought her mugs of milk from time to time. One thing was clear to her by now, if Robert wanted her dead, he would have cut her down the moment he saw her. He wanted her alive. Weak, desperate, yet alive. But why? She lay there on the straw in silence as her bladder swelled further with all the water and milk and all the beer she had before leaving her castle. She ran a hand over her belly and wondered when she’d get to use a privy? Will they ever let her out of here? If not, would she just have to keep holding it? For long she listened to the sounds of beating and torture from other cells, she listened until she could listen no more to the cries and pleas, begging for the gift of death. Horror crept under her skin, so much that she lost her sleep. It had been two days since she had eaten, or maybe three. Down here in the dark it was hard to tell. But at least they brought her milk, the other prisoners did not get even that. But she could feel all the liquid bothering her bladder now. She wondered what fate had in store for her. Would she get out alive? Whenever she closed her eyes, she found herself remembering her husband. All this would have never happened had he been alive. Suddenly, she heard the sounds outside the dungeon door. It was strange. They had brought her water and milk just a while ago, so she knew this wasn’t that. They were coming to beat her, they would torture her. At once she froze, fearing even to breathe. She listened in terror, hard as stone, to the scuff of boots and the clanking of iron keys. No, she thought, no, please gods, not me, not me. She did not want to die, not this way. The sounds were growing louder. Please gods, he isn’t coming for me, she prayed, crouched down in a corner of her cell. Go away, she prayed, go away, pass me by, please, please. But the footsteps stopped just when they were loudest, and the keys clattered right outside the door. Her hands trembled in horror. “No,” she mumbled, “Noooo.” Her clothes fought with the straw as she tried to push herself into the corner, into the cold damp stone walls. The sound of the lock turning was the most terrible of all. Torchlight fell across her face as the door creaked open. She shielded her eyes with a hand. And when the man came to stand before her, she let out a shriek. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He was simply too big to be unintimidating and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of clay pots, and his feet in their leather boots were like tree trunks. She looked at him wide eyed, afraid that he was going to smash her skull open or do something even worse. Charlotte was certain she was going to die tonight but then the giant opened his mouth, “My Queen, don’t be scared,” he bowed down a bit, “I’m Gunther, the kennel master, come with me, I’ll get you out of here” he said. For a moment she did not believe him. Maybe this was a trap. But how much worse could it get? “My son” her lips trembled, tears flooding her cheeks. He held out his vast muscular arms to help her up. “Don’t worry, he has escaped,” the giant whispered. “Now come with me before someone sees us.” The gaoler was dead drunk in a puddle of wine, with his breeches down around his ankles. They quickly climbed the steep dungeon steps, the flame of the torch in Gunther’s hand flickering like a dancer’s hips. “The Hunter’s Gate has no guards,” he spoke but Queen Charlotte didn’t reply; only looked at him. She walked rigidly, with her thighs slightly pressed together and a hand on her stomach, a sign that she would like to let out her three days worth of urine, but she didn’t let it show and kept her composure strong. It was a chill dank autumn night. Clouds hid the roof of stars above and wind made the trees dance. It smelled like rain. Charlotte did not know whether that was good or bad for their escape. No one saw them, and they saw no one, only a black cat creeping along atop the wall. The fires were out, and the castle fast asleep. The postern gate was unguarded, just as he had said. Outside the walls of Tilsworth, a wolf howled long and loud. Gunther lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door, they slipped from the castle and splashed across the stream, stumbling over stones. Wisps of pale mist threaded between the trees. Sentinels and soldier pines grew thick about here, and there was nothing as dark and gloomy as an evergreen forest. CHAPTER- IV A FRIEND INDEED The rays of the morning sun pierced through the roof of leaves over their heads, showing them the way ahead. Her mount walked forward in the dense forest, beside Gunther’s large garron. They crossed a shallow stream and went deeper into the woods. Many a times during the cold night that went by, Queen Charlotte had found the moments to close her eyes and sleep, even if it was for short whiles. But the man had been awake since their escape. Only once had he stopped to rest and eat apples that he had carried in a sack. Charlotte had been fending off her increasing bladder pangs for hours now, trying not to think much of it. Taking a deep breath, she again reminded herself that she had to wait until she got to a privy or a chamber pot, no matter how badly she wanted to go. She knew her bladder was much too large but everyone had their limits. More and more she found herself thinking of emptying her swollen vessel but every time she erased the thought from her mind. She looked around to take her mind off her need and felt as if she knew the place. “The Enchanted Forest,” she sighed. Of all the tales her Lord father had told her of the place, one she had cherished more than the rest. It told of a monstrous beast that lived in this forest over ten thousand years ago, a lion with the head of a goat arising from its back, and a tail that ended with a snake’s head. Every night the fiend would appear from the forest to hunt people from the nearby village. It killed anyone it could find men, women or children and dragged them back to its den to devour. To appease the creature, the people of the village fed it two sheep every day. But when they ran out of sheep they started feeding it their children who they would choose through draw. There came a time when the lot fell on the lord’s daughter.The lord, in his grief, told the people they could have all his gold and silver and half of his lands if his daughter were spared but the people refused. The poor girl was sent out to the forest to be fed to the monster. But just when it appeared from the woods, snarling at the trembling girl, Sir Richard Cantillon, who happened to be riding through, thrust his sword into the beast’s back. A gory battle took place between the knight and the monster which ended when Sir Richard buried his sword into the animal’s stomach. It died, but not before bathing the warrior in a burst of flames that cooked him in his armour. When she was a child, all Charlotte wanted was to become like Sir Richard Cantillon, strong, valiant and kind. But the older she grew, the more she realized that what she wanted did not matter. What mattered was her father’s name and the honour of their house, what mattered was her husband’s crown and the name it held and what mattered was her son’s life and the throne he was going to sit on. She now knew that her life had never been her own. It had been for others, the ones she loved. They went on for another hour before in the middle of the dense forest they came upon a small hut with a chimney that had smoke coming out of it. Gunther lifted her from the saddle and gently landed her on the ground before knocking on the thick wooden door, “Martha?” The door opened and stepped out a beautiful middle aged woman, who looked gentle by her appearance. “Your Highness, this is Martha, my wife,” Gunther said. “Oh, my Queen!” Martha bowed when she realized who stood before her, “It is such a great pleasure to have you here!” she couldn’t control her joy and kissed Charlotte’s hands, “Please do come in” she welcomed Her Highness, and the Queen smiled meekly, trying to conceal her bladder fatigue. “The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing, Gunther, you'll get us some fish," Martha echoed. “Of course, my dear,” the giant picked up the net that hung outside and left for the brook nearby. Meanwhile Martha filled the kettle, lay the table, cut the bread and put the plates in the oven to heat and drew a huge jug of beer for Gunther from a barrel which stood in one corner of the house. Just as the frying-pan was nicely hissing, Gunther came in with the fish which he had already opened with his knife and cleaned out in the open air. The new-caught fish smelled rich while they were fried it, making him feel hungrier. Martha drained the potatoes and then put them all back in the empty pot to dry on the side of the range before dishing up the trout as everyone prepared to eat. There was a jug of creamy milk for the Queen and a great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table to go with their potatoes. Though the Queen only had some bread along with the milk, she felt hungry no more. “I would like to thank you both, I owe you my life,” Charlotte spoke, “I promise you’ll be rewarded handsomely for this,” she finished as she looked at them. “Oh, that won’t be needed, my Queen,” Martha smiled, “It is our duty to serve Her Highness.” She forced a smile but her concern soon boiled over. “I’m worried for Iwan, I don’t know where he might be now,” she held her face. “Norman, one of the stable boys, I asked him to take the Prince to your brother who is not too far away from the capital now, moving forward with this mighty host,” Gunther assured her, “We could have escaped together but this way it will be difficult for them to catch us.” “Does my brother know?” Charlotte asked, her fist clenching tightly over the table. “No, he doesn’t,” Gunther replied, “Robert planned to sell you to a flesh merchant from across the Troubled Sea. Men would kill to have the Queen warm their bed. It won’t be long before the word gets out though,” he stood up, “Robert will have his men looking for you, that is why I brought you here.” Martha filled one of Gunther’s huge beer jugs and placed it before the Queen. “Thank you,” Charlotte said with a wry smile, avoiding mentioning her swelling bladder. Despite a wait this long, the Queen was not desperate. The beer was going to make its presence felt soon enough but she knew she could hold it. “Lord Walter plans to march on Godswick when the time is right. Reynard Dalton sits warily on the throne. His forces have dwindled but many have joined his cause, mainly out of fear,” the giant said. “I must be with my brother... I must go to Walter...,” Charlotte found herself drowning in her pool of thoughts. “It won’t be safe for you to move out right now,” Gunther added, “I say, you stay here, my Queen.” “I know, but I need to know where Iwan is,” she said, “I’m worried for him.” “I know, my Queen,” Gunther spoke softly, “....but I assure you he is safe, might have as well reached your brother’s camp.” That calmed her down a bit but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m afraid I must leave your here with my wife, Your Highness,” Gunther said, “I must go back to Tilsworth or they’ll come looking for me.” With a nod she gave him her leave and Gunther looked at his wife before stepping out of the door. Just as he left, Martha came to her, with her legs crossed and her body bent a little, “My Queen, if I may have your permission, can I go out to relieve myself? I haven’t been all day.......,” “Well, of course you may,” Charlotte answered. In that moment, she wished she was a commoner as well. Then she could have peed anywhere she wanted and no one would have cared. But she was the Queen; it would botch the name of her family if she was to do something like that. She shook her head and let that thought go. Hold it, she told herself as she clenched her fists over the table. As Martha rushed out, Charlotte walked to the window and looked intently at the woman. She saw Martha lift up her dress, which revealed her bulging bladder, it was gigantic! It was nothing close to her own swollen bladder but it was huge none the less. Charlotte turned around when she saw Martha begin to squat and went near the fire place but in her mind she imagined the relief that might be flowing through the woman’s body. She wanted that relief too but she knew she’d have to wait for it. As the night fell, Charlotte began to feel cold. Thus Martha heated up the mare’s milk she had full in a huge cauldron and filled a mug for Charlotte. The Queen felt much better as she began to sip the hot drink. It was something she had never tasted before, sweet and foamy and creamy, and it warmed her right down to her toes. She stayed up all night, sitting by the fireplace with a blanket around her, drinking the mare’s milk. By the morning the cauldron was empty but the Queen felt tired and her headache had worsened. Her shoulders pained and her fingers felt stiff. After she came back from picking cherries off the bushes, Martha brewed the Queen a kettle of hot nettle tea, which gave the Charlotte a slight respite from the headache. The warmth spread through her body and made her feel better. She cradled the tea in her hands and blew on it to cool it. Fate seems to be upset with me, Charlotte thought as she sipped the astringent tea, before I go to my son, I only wish to see my father once. But she knew she could not. She had written to him before the day Godswick fell. I love you father, I pray for you to the Lord each night, may he grant us strength in these difficult times. Over the day she drank over a dozen kettles of nettle tea and though it made her feel warm and nice, it didn’t help abate her headache. It made her want to pee more but she corked it up like an iron horse. When the night had shrouded the forest in its dark and Martha and Charlotte had fallen asleep, a sudden banging at the door woke them up. Martha opened the door to find Gunther, with a look of fear on his face, “Hurry, we must leave right now, Lord Robert’s men are on their way here! There’s not a moment to lose...,” Martha turned swiftly and handed over a blanket to Queen Charlotte, before picking up sacks and laying them on the table, "Gunther, just reach down that ham and get two or three loaves out of the crock over there in the corner." "What are you doing?" exclaimed Gunther. "Packing a load for each of us, dearie," said Martha chaotically. "You didn't think we'd set out on a journey with nothing to eat, did you?" "But we do not have any time to waste!" said Charlotte, wrapping the blanket around herself. "They may be here any minute." "That's what I say," added Gunther. Martha packed whatever little she could and they all rushed out. Queen Charlotte walked, her bladder straining with the movement and Gunther helped her on her horse, before they set out into the cold night. CHAPTER- V THE ONE OF HER OWN Martha had gone ahead to scout, and it was she who brought back word of the army at a distance. "By their fires I think they might be twenty thousand strong," she said. "Their banners are green, with a dancing horse." "It is my brother," Charlotte said, her mammoth bladder aching after the long night’s ride. She put her heels to her horse and trotted off, giving Gunther and his wife no choice but to follow or be left behind. Distant watchers peered down from watchposts made of wood as the three rode towards them. A dozen crossbowmen manned the uneven hilltops. Charlotte halted Martha and Gunther out of range and rode up. "Who commands here?" she shouted. The captain was quick to appear, and even quicker to give them an escort when he recognized the Queen. She could see the camp spread out to a vast distance. Mailed men sat under trees and honed their blades, and familiar banners fluttered from staffs thrust into the muddy ground. The air was filled with the smoky haze of a thousand cook fires. Thousands of pavilions rose from the grass like silken mushrooms. A party of mounted horsemen rode forward to greet them as they ventured further in. The knight who led them wore silver armour inlaid with ametrine and striped purple and golden cloak and his shield bore a lamp for the sigil. Charlotte reined up to greet him. “Sir Adam.” Sir Adam Popplewell lifted his visor. "Your Highness," he said in astonishment. "We all feared for your safety, it is a blessing to see you unharmed!" He looked at the giant and the beautiful woman besides him uncertainly. "These . . . friends of yours . . .” "My travel companions," Charlotte said. "Where will I find my brother?" "He is in his pavilion." "I will see him at once." "As you say, my Queen." Lord Walter’s camp spread over leagues. Martha’s estimate of twenty thousand men could not be far wrong. The common men camped out in the open, but the knights had thrown up tents, and some of the high lords had erected pavilions as large as houses. Near all the chivalry of the east had come to Walter’s call, it seemed. Charlotte could see the silver eagle of the Calverts, Lord Longwood's pine tree, the bells of Swinton, the beaver of Stillman. Everyone bowed as she rode past, containing all the water beer and milk she had consumed as it streamed into her bladder. And even though she was holding this much, her demeanour was calm as ever and only her bulbous abdomen could tell otherwise. Martha was gaping back; beyond a certainty, she had never seen so many men, horses, and weapons in all her days. A pair of house guards in greenish cloaks and helms stood outside the great pavilion, on either side of the door. Charlotte recognized their captain. "My brother?" "Inside, my Queen." "Those two who came with me will want clothes to wear, beds to rest and meat and mead to fill their stomachs," Charlotte told him. "See that they are well taken care of." She entered the pavilion, and there was Walter. She found her brother surrounded by their father’s lords bannermen. Walter Torrington, The acting Lord of Longford, was in his early thirties. He was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders and a flat stomach. With rich black hair, a handsome face and brown eyes. He stood leaning onto the table, a pile of maps and papers in front of him, talking intently with Earl Calvert and Victor Atwell. At first he did not notice her... but the other lords did. The lords fell silent one by one, and Walter looked up at the sudden quiet and saw her. “Charlotte?” he said, his voice thick with sentiment. Charlotte wanted to run to him, to hug him so she could feel safe again, but here in front of his lords, she dared not. So she held herself at the far end of the table. Lord Hadrian was the first to travel across the tent to pay his respects, kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. “My Queen,” he said, “you are fair as ever, a welcome sight in troubled times.” Lord Earl followed, his son Baron, and the rest, one by one. Sir Duncan was the last. “I had not looked to see you here, my Queen,” he said as he knelt. “I had not thought to be here,” Charlotte said, “....until I escaped from Tilsworth, and someone told me that Walter had his host moving towards the capital.” “My Queen, we had men looking for you everywhere but none of them could find you...,” Lord Victor said. The lords were anxious to talk to her, but Charlotte raised a hand. “No doubt we will have time for all this later, but my journey has fatigued me. I would speak with my brother alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Calvert, the bannermen bowed and took their leave. “Have you had any word of Iwan?” she asked the moment she was sure they were alone. “There was a letter,” Walter said. He went to the table, rummaged among some maps and papers, and returned with a crumpled parchment. Something in Walter’s tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. Her son was Lord Reynard’s prisoner now. She held the table for support as something broke inside her and tears came to her eyes. “He wants me to surrender you to him as well and ask my men to ride back home,” he added. “And if we march... even if we win... he’ll kill Iwan.” Her hopes were crushed, the light within her suddenly dimming. She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think. All she knew was she couldn’t lose. Not after coming this far. “If you turn your tail and retreat to Longford, your lords will lose all respect for you. Some may even go over to the Daltons. Then Reynard, with that much less to fear, can do as he likes with Iwan,” Charlotte looked at him with pleading eyes. “Our best hope, our only true hope, is that you can defeat the foe in the field. If you should chance to take Lord Reynard or any of his sons captive, then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as you have power enough that he must fear you, Iwan should be safe. Reynard is wise enough to know that he may need him to make peace, should the fighting go against him.” “What if the fighting doesn’t go against him?” Walter asked. “What if it goes against us? He has twice the numbers I have.” “They say the Daltons have hearts of stone.” Charlotte looked down for a moment and then towards him, “If you lose, there is no hope for any of us.” Walter saw the fear and desperation in her eyes. “Then I will not lose,” he vowed. CHAPTER- VI THE STONE TABLE The morning that followed was a strange one. Charlotte woke up in her pavilion that was larger than the common rooms of an inn and furnished with every comfort: feather mattress and sleeping furs, a wood-and-copper tub large enough for two, braziers to keep off the night's chill, slung leather camp chairs, a writing table with quills and inkpot, bowls of peaches, plums, and pears, a flagon of wine with a set of matched silver cups, cedar chests packed full of clothing, books, maps, game boards, a high harp, a tall bow and a quiver of arrows, a pair of red-tailed hunting hawks and more. She tried to sit up on her bed but felt an immense increase in pressure as she did so. Her bladder was now rock hard. The barrel of beer she had emptied last night while discussing the battle plan with her brother and his bannermen was now brewing inside her bladder, stretching it out immensely. She still was not at her limits, but she was very, very full and her bladder felt very heavy in her abdomen. She quickly dressed herself up but before she left for her brother’s pavilion, Charlotte reminded herself that she had to act normally no matter how much her bladder ached. She was determined to keep her legs uncrossed all the times. She knew she was in full command of her bladder and she could wait to empty it. So, nursing her bursting bladder, she walked as normally as she could to her brother’s camp. She found him sitting on his chair, looking carefully at the map that lay before him. “Your Highness,” he rose up to greet her. “Is there any word of Iwan?” Charlotte asked as she walked towards her seat, containing in her iron bladder litres and litres of urine. “Well, no. But the scouts report King Reynard has moved his army further up,” Walter studied the pieces on the map, “He wants to end this as far away from the capital as he can.” Just then a knight entered the pavilion, "Sorry to interrupt you My Lord, but there is a messenger from Reynard Dalton." Charlotte looked at her brother and he looked back at her. "Let him approach," said Walter. The knight went away and soon returned leading the King’s messenger. “What is your message?” asked Walter. "The King of Solambria desires a safe conduct to come and speak with you," he said, "on a matter which is of as much concern to you as to him." "King of Solambria, indeed!" said Charlotte. "That bastard -" “Charlotte, no,” said Walter, “.... we might have a chance to get Iwan back” he added, “Tell your King, that I grant him safe conduct.” The messenger bowed and left. The hours that went by left Charlotte’s mind laden with the thoughts of her son and for once she did not think of her bladder that was now swollen outrageously to contain the copious amount of liquid she had consumed. Even when she felt the need she acted as if her bladder was empty. Only the significant bulge of her abdomen told otherwise. The wait was getting on her nerves, but she did not worry. She knew her bladder would swell further if needs be but would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. A herald’s voice suddenly boomed across the empty skies, “Here comes King Reynard of the House Dalton, the fifth of his name, Emperor of the twelve kingdoms and the father of the realm.” The Queen felt a shudder running down her back at the sight of his face. Murmurs rose from the men around. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Walter and the King himself. They entered the tent and took their seats. "The bitch is here," said Reynard looking at Charlotte, his voice cold and straight “and I have her pup.” His words enraged Walter but he reined the storm within him. "Well," said Walter. "What do you want from us?" “What do I want? Huh!” Reynard grinned, “You speak as if you do not know. I want both their heads on spikes, yours too if you don’t mind.” “You have Iwan, why haven’t you killed him yet if that is what you want?” “Well oft times I’ve heard that a live captive is of more value than a dead one,” Reynard breathed. He looked at Charlotte and then at her brother. "Have you forgotten the Laws of the God?" asked the King, coming straight to the point, his voice stiller than before. "Let us say I have forgotten them," answered Walter gravely. "Tell us of these Laws." "Tell you?" said Reynard, his voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone that the Servants of the God carved with their own hands? You very well know the Laws of the God. You know that as the King of Solambria, every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have the right to kill." He looked at her again. "And so," continued Reynard, "....the Prince and his mother are mine. Their lives are forfeit to me. Their blood is my property." Charlotte stood on Walter’s side, looking all the time at his face. She felt a choking feeling and wondered if she ought to say something; but she didn’t know what to say. "Charlotte," said Walter, "I will talk to the King alone." She turned and left the pavilion. It was a terrible time this - waiting and wondering while Walter and King Reynard talked. They talked for long and until the night fell dark and the shimmering stars glowed in the sky. As she waited outside the tent, Charlotte gave an “aah!” and hiked one leg up as the bladder pangs grew stronger but then stood confidently without giving a trace of her desperation to the men around her, as her organ swelled past the six day mark. The gallons of water she had today were stretching her bladder walls even further. There was going to be no release of pressure until she wished it and there would be no giving into the desperate need to let out the massive lake that she had inside her, she’d just have to wait. Then suddenly King Reynard appeared out of the tent and left without saying so much as a word. Charlotte went to her brother who took a last sip from his goblet of wine. "I have settled the matter. He has renounced the claim on your lives." Charlotte felt so relieved, as if she had began to breathe again. She held her bladder as a smile ran across her face. “...and he promised to send Iwan back early on the morrow,” he continued. She couldn’t believe her ears, her joy knew no bounds. Then, she stopped, “But what did he ask for in return?” she could read the sorrow on her brother’s face. But of that she did not get an answer as Lord Walter stood up and left. Charlotte couldn’t sleep that night. She had a horrible feeling - as if something was hanging over them. She felt as if something dreadful was going to happen to her brother. Early morning the next day, as he had promised, King Reynard returned the Prince to them. Sir Adam Popplewell brought him to the Queen and she pulled him to her loving embrace, “Oh, my son....,” she cried as her fingers ruffled through his hair. “Mother!” he sobbed, the wound on his lower lip paining him. She ran her hands through his beautiful face and wept, thanking the God. “They killed Norman and they tried to kill my friend too but he got away!” the young Prince cried when he found the strength to speak. “Friend? Who?” “My friend, Tirius!” Iwan told her, trembling. “Tirius?” Charlotte believed she had never heard that name before. “Yes, mother. He is my friend,” the Prince nodded, “You would not believe but he had legs like a goat’s and two small horns over his head, he brought me apples and cherries while I hid in the forest! But then they found me!” Charlotte couldn’t believe the words of her son. Maybe the shock and fear had caught to him. She could not say. She only knew that the boy was frightened and only time would heal his wounds. She asked a squire to take the Prince to his pavilion and help him bathe, while she proceeded for the war meeting. All through the meeting she strode about around the tent as she spoke to the lord’s bannermen, still keeping her legs apart and paying no mind to her aching bladder. She needed this victory more than she needed anything else and she was going to make every effort she could for it. But during that day, many a times she heard her brother telling Lord Atwell how to place his men against the Dalton army while in battle. He told him of every move or strategy he could think of and also gave him the command of his army. "But you will be there yourself, my Lord," Lord Atwell asked. "I can give you no promise of that," Walter answered. He did not talk very much and seemed to them to be sad. Walter's mood affected everyone that evening. Lord Atwell was feeling distressed also at the idea of fighting the battle on his own; the news that Lord Walter might not be there had come as a great shock to him. Supper that evening was a quiet meal. This feeling affected Charlotte so much that she couldn't get to sleep when she went to bed. And after she had laid counting sheep and turning over and over she heard Martha give a long sigh and turn over just beside her in the darkness. "Can't you get to sleep either?" asked the Queen. “No,” said Martha. "I thought you were asleep, my Queen." "No, I couldn’t. I've a most horrible feeling - as if something were hanging over us." "Have you? Because, as a matter of fact, so have I." "Something about Walter," said Charlotte. "Either some dreadful thing is going to happen to him, or something dreadful that he's going to do." "There's been something wrong with him all afternoon," said Martha. “What was that he said about not being at the battle? You don't think he could be stealing away and leaving us tonight, do you?" "I don’t know. Where is he now?" said the Queen. "Is he here in the pavilion? I’m worried for him,” she added, "I want to see him." “My Queen, he must be asleep by now, can’t it wait till the morrow? “No, I’ve to see him right now,” Charlotte threw away her blanket, “I have a feeling that he needs me.” "All right, let's," said Martha, "....we might just as well be doing that as lying awake here." So the two women slid out of the tent and quietly made their way towards Walter’s pavilion. The moonlight was bright and everything was quite still except for the noise of the river chattering over the stones. Charlotte peeped into his tent and found he wasn’t there. "Is he here in the pavilion?" asked Martha "I don't think so." "Let’s have a look round,” Martha spoke “We might see him." And then, on the far side of the camping ground, just where the trees began, they saw her brother slowly walking away into the wood. Without a word they followed him. He led them up the steep slope out of the river valley and then slightly to the right. On and on he led them, into dark shadows and out into pale moonlight, getting their feet wet with the heavy dew. They saw that they were going up the slope of the hill on which the Stone Table stood, an ancient relic known to all the men of the realm. They heard the sounds of men talking and the two women crouched behind a thick wall of bushes. Almost a score of men stood round the Stone Table. It was a great grim slab of grey stone supported on four upright stones. It looked very old; and it was cut all over with strange lines and figures that might be the letters of an unknown language. Though the moon was shining, many of them carried torches which burned with red flames and black smoke. And right in the middle, standing by the Table, was King Reynard himself. They laughed at her brother and made japes of him. “The fool!" King Reynard said. "The fool has come. Bind him fast." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths waiting for Walter to draw his great sword and cut his enemies down. But it never happened. Four soldiers came forward to tie his hands and legs to which he made no resistance at all. Then they began to drag him towards the Stone Table. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two women could not even see him - so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of men kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him. At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag Walter to the Stone Table. “Those bastards...,” sobbed Charlotte. When once Walter had been tied on the flat stone, a silence fell on the crowd. Four men, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. Reynard Dalton pulled out his sword. The thing shone in the moonlight, white as milk. At last he drew near. He stood by Walter's head, who looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before Reynard gave the blow, he stooped down and said in a quivering voice, “Fool, did you think that by all this you would save your sister and her pup? Now I will kill you instead of the Prince as our pact. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him and his bitch mother? And who will take them out of my hand then? I have two times the men you have but this has made things really easy for me. Without a leader your army will scatter in no time. Understand that you have handed over the fate of your sister and her son into my hands, you have lost your own life and you have not saved theirs. I hope you find peace in the afterlife.” He brought down his sword to pierce right through Walter’s chest. The blood of his life ran on the stone table and he closed his eyes. Charlotte covered her face, trying to stop the images of her brother’s murder but it didn’t help. She cried without making a sound and Martha tried to hold her. CHAPTER- VII THE LAWS OF GODS AND MEN While the two women still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the King calling out, "Our work is done here. Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the whore now that her foolish brother lies dead." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths as the men walked past the bushes. They would be raped before being butchered if King Reynard got to know they hid here. Their laughs and japes echoed in Charlotte’s ears as they mounted their horses and swept off the hill-top. At any other time she would have trembled with fear; but now the sadness and shame and horror of Walter’s death so filled her mind that she hardly thought of it. As soon as the wood was silent again Charlotte and Martha crept out onto the open hill-top. The blanket of clouds hid the strokes of the moonlight, painting the night deeper and darker, but still they could see the shape of her brother’s body lying dead in his bonds. They both knelt down in the grass, before the Queen kissed his cold face and stroked his beautiful black hair; “He did this to save us...,” tears flooded her cheeks, her voice shaken. She cried and cried till she could cry no more. She looked at Martha and sobbed for she felt lonely and weak. "Help me" she said as she stood up and tried to pull out the sword that pierced her brother’s chest. They put all their strength to pull out the sword that had cut into the stone and at last it came free, her brother’s blood dripping off its edge. Charlotte tossed it aside and fondled Walter’s face. They tried to untie him but the cords were drawn so tight that they could do nothing of the knots. A certain quiet surrounded them. Charlotte felt as if nothing was going to happen ever again. Hours and hours went by in the dead calm, and they hardly noticed that they were getting colder and colder. Though Martha noticed the sky on the east side of the hill was a little less dark than it had been an hour ago. Then Charlotte in a fit of broken despair tried to untie her brother for one last time, and this time she succeeded. The sky in the east was whitish by now and the stars were getting fainter - all except one very big one low down on the eastern horizon. They felt colder than they had been all night. Every moment Walter’s dead face looked nobler, as the light grew and they could see it better. In the wood behind them a bird gave a chuckling sound. It had been so still for hours and hours that it startled them. Then another bird answered it. Soon there were birds singing all over the place. It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night. Martha rubbed arms to fight the cold as she looked on in despair at the broken Queen. The rising of the sun had made everything look so different - all colours and shadows were changed that. Charlotte held her brother in a tight embrace. Lost. All was lost. Her brother was gone. Her tears knew no end and her breathes were broken still. Defeat was absolute. “The Laws of the God...,” there came a voice from among the trees that startled both the women to the toes. “Who’s there?” Charlotte went wide eyed, horror creeping under her skin. Martha took a step back, sweat beading down her forehead. And then a very strange person stepped out of the trees, into the light. He might have been as tall as Iwan. From the waist upwards he was like a man, but his legs were shaped like a goat's, the hair on them was glossy brown and instead of feet he had goat's hoofs and his skin was rather reddish too. He had a strange, but pleasant little face, with a short pointed beard and curly hair, and out of the hair there stuck two horns, one on each side of his forehead. Charlotte and Martha couldn’t believe their eyes. A faun stood before them, a being of whom they had heard of only in fables. For a moment Charlotte thought she was dreaming but then the sight of her brother’s corpse stabbed her. “My Queen, I’m Tirius, a friend to Prince Iwan,” he bowed before her. The two of them didn’t know what to say. Fear stopped the words in their throats and left them shaking. Iwan was right, the person he had been describing was true after all. “The Laws of God, my lady, are strange but just. They say, only he can govern what is true and what is false. Only he holds the right to give life and to take it back,” he walked towards them, “....but he is not the only one who can give life. A mother can give life as well.” Charlotte looked at him with tear filled eyes. She couldn’t understand what he was saying and she didn’t know what to say. “The Stone Table was built thousands of years ago, on the command of the almighty, to serve as a symbol of justice and only the King could serve this justice,” he looked at Walter’s face, which seemed to be at peace, “The King is next to the God and his word is absolute. But if the Lord almighty gave the King the power to take life, he gave the Queen Mother the power to give life as well.” His words struck a string of hope within her. Suddenly her heart started to beat faster. “The Stone Table does not agree to the blood of an innocent,” Tirius told them, “If someone, for no fault of his is executed on the Table, then he can be brought back to life, but only by the Queen Mother.” “How?” she asked, her voice shaken, “It is not possible...,” “But it is...,” Tirius said, “It could be...it all depends upon the faith.” She looked at him, then at her brother and then at Martha. Wrecked by grief she stood up and placed her hands on the chest of her brother’s corpse, and though she didn’t believe the faun, the words came to her mouth, “My Lord, the creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you, shed your mercy upon us.....,” Her words sounded hollow to her ears, her hands touching her mistrust. She tried and tried but her brother’s breathes did not return. She sighed, broken in spirit. Her eyes closed in defeat. Tears flowing down her face. She looked at him, hoping he would move, hoping he would speak but his soul was gone. Gone far away. Her hands shook. She had lost. She looked at Martha, who stood still, not uttering a word. Charlotte turned and walked, to where she did not know. “My Lady there is one more way....,” Tirius spoke suddenly. She stopped on her track, then started walking again. “My Queen, without Lord Walter this war is lost,” Martha’s voice sounded in her ears, “Only he could have guided your men to victory.” Charlotte knew that was the truth but could she believe the faun’s words? “My Lady, inside the Castle of Light and Dark lays a hidden chamber. And inside that chamber is a tabernacle which holds a chalice of gold. The chalice that contains the God’s wine.” He stopped to catch his breath. “It is said that one can ask of anything from the Lord almighty if he succeeds to drink from the chalice and his wish shall be granted. But to get to the chalice is not easy....,” Tirius said, “It is said that magic guards the walls of the Castle of Light and Dark and to get past it is no feat for the faint of heart....,” The Castle of Light and Dark? She had never heard of it before. Was the faun lying? But what if it was the truth? Maybe it was her only chance to get her brother back. “How far is the castle from here?” “A day’s ride north,” Tirius replied, “...but my lady I must warn you, this may cost you your life...,” “If this is the way to bring my brother back, then I must do it....,” Charlotte spoke, “No matter what the cost....,” CHAPTER- VIII THE CASTLE OF LIGHT AND DARK Amongst the dense forest of larch and pine, Charlotte found the castle of Light and Dark. What she had presumed to be a magnificent stronghold was just a grey and ancient ruin, protected by the woods. She stood there with a hand on her aching bladder, her thighs pressed together. Studying the fortress and guessing what it held inside. The pressure inside her bladder had grown to the highest degree. The waterskin she had carried with her on the journey had been emptied and refilled over a dozen times since she had left Martha and her brother back at the camp yesterday and yet her bladder was unrelieved, still holding ten days worth of urine. But Queen Charlotte was confident. She knew her bladder would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. But what if it became her undoing inside the Castle of Light and Dark? “My Queen,” Tirius said, “I want you to think this through one last time...” “There is nothing to think about,” Charlotte spoke, her eyes stuck on the castle, “I have no other way,” she sighed. “It is said that many go into The Castle of Light and Dark, but few come out,” he told, “If you have decided to follow your heart, then take me inside with you. I’ve heard many tales of the place, maybe they will come of help.” “No,” she breathed, “Some places even the Queen must walk alone.” This frightened the faun, “My Queen, you must remember, the front way leads in, but never out again. Heed my words, The Castle of Light and Dark was not made for mortal men. If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you.” “I will do as you say,” Charlotte promised. “When you enter, you will find yourself in a room with four doors: the one you have come through and three others. Take the door to your left. Each time, the door to your left. If you should come upon a stairwell, climb. Never go down, and never take any door but the first door to your left.” “The door to my left,” Charlotte repeated. “I understand. And when I leave, the opposite?” “No,” Tirius said. “Leaving and coming, it is the same. Always up. Always the door to your left.” “I understand.” She sighed and as the Queen walked towards the huge wooden door, it opened itself to let her in. She turned to look at the faun for one last time and then entered the castle. The door slowly closed behind her back. She found herself in a stone anteroom with four doors, one on each wall. With some hesitation, she went to the door on her left and stepped through. The second room was a twin to the first. Again she turned to the left-hand door. When she pushed it open she faced yet another small antechamber with four doors. I am in the presence of sorcery. She felt shaken but never did she let her fear overcome her. She took the door to the left once more and found herself in a long hall. The long hall went on and on and on, with torches burning on the walls. She walked past more doors than she could count, closed doors and open ones, doors of wood and doors of iron, carved doors and plain ones, doors with pulls and doors with locks and doors with knockers. Finally a great pair of bronze doors appeared to her left, grander than the rest. They swung open as she neared, and as she entered it, Queen Charlotte saw the thing for which she was not prepared. A gigantic dragon, bound by chains lay before her, guarding the doors behind it. Even the darkness had not dimmed the beauty of its scales that shone a shade of dark green in the light that danced upon the torches. For a moment, it took her breath away. Dragon? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen one in her entire life and now, one was right before her! That’s an Asgarothian Ironbelly! She realized. She had read about dragons in the books kept in the capital’s great library and knew they had all died out centuries ago. It was a miracle to find one alive. Her amazement was short lived though as then the being sensed her. It turned its ugly head towards the Queen and roared with a noise that made the rocks tremble and then, it opened its mouth to spew a jet of fire that sent Charlotte running back. She held her bladder as she leaned back on the wall, her organ unprepared for this kind of rapid movement. The Queen went back in again, peeping at first. She could make that the creature was partially blind but only more savage for that. It looked at her fierce but then suddenly the dragon began to shift backward, as if it was scared of her. Charlotte couldn’t understand what was going on but she knew this was her only chance. The Queen slowly walked towards the wooden door behind the dragon and placed her hand on it. The door opened and she found herself in a room that was crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures— some with long spines, others with drooping wings — potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown. There at the end of the room, she saw the tabernacle. She hurried towards it and opened it to find a chalice full of red wine like the faun had told her. Charlotte raised it to her lips. The first sip tasted sour, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and blood. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the chalice was empty. She closed her eyes and prayed, “O’Lord almighty, creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you to show your mercy upon me and send my brother back to me....,” she couldn’t control her tears any longer. Then all of a sudden the ground beneath her started to shake and the pillars that held the roof started to crumble. Horror gripped Charlotte tighter than ever. “Oh no!” she wailed. Huge boulders fell down as the roof began to collapse. The castle was coming down. Maybe it was the effect of her drinking from the chalice, she did not know. All she knew was that she needed to escape or she’d be crushed to death. She rushed towards the door as fast her swollen bladder would allow. The bound dragon let out a roar but its posture still seemed submissive, as if it was afraid. Then something happened, something clicked inside her and inspiration or madness came to Charlotte. She rushed towards the dragon and climbed atop the creature, which strangely showed no resistance. “Go! Go! Go!” she commanded and go it went! Charlotte had to put all her strength into her pee hole to keep it shut but she had other things to worry about now. The cuffs broke open with loud bangs. The dragon’s scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel her. Then the creature became aware that it was unbound. With a roar it reared: Charlotte dug in her knees, clutching as tightly as she could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the pillars aside like skittles. Charlotte, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the castle continued to fall around her. By sheer force the dragon clawed and fought its way through, a massive rock hitting its head, though it wasn’t enough to stop it. Charlotte’s eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crashing of rocks and the dragon’s roars, she could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment. And then at last, as the result of the dragon’s brute strength, the remaining roof over its head fell apart. Finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell around itself, the dragon climbed atop the rubble of the falling castle with Charlotte still clinging to its back. And then after a bit of struggle, it launched itself into the sky. The Queen was crazed with fear. What if she fell off?! She looked down and saw the Castle of Light and Dark, only the way she had found it before. Unharmed, unbroken. CHAPTER – IX THE BATTLE FOR GODSWICK Swords grazed the flesh off men and horses alike. Screams and shrieks filled the cold air and rivulets of blood ran through the field of battle. Murder was never a sight so common. Lord Victor Atwell could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick. He saw Sir John impaled on a spear and watched Lord Borbon’s horse shatter a man’s ribs with a kick. A flight of arrows descended on them; where they came from he could not say, but they fell on Torrington and Dalton alike, rattling off armour or finding flesh. Lord Victor lifted his shield and hid beneath it. One by one, his men were falling. The chance of victory slipping from their hands. With Lord Walter dead, there was no chance of defeating Reynard Dalton on the field. He should have known that. Lord Victor saw his son take an arrow to his eye before he fell to the ground, dead. Men stepped on his corpse. He screamed with grief and pain, louder than he had ever screamed but the sounds of the battle muffled his voice. He ran and took the motionless body of his son in his hands and rested his head on his lap before he pulled the arrow out of his skull. Tears found their way to Victor’s blood soaked cheeks, his hands shivering and his lips trembling. His wails were loud, heavy with sorrow but unknown to the ones around him. Then he stood up, swaying his sword, in anger, in pain, in defeat. But all was lost. Someone struck him from behind and his body surrendered itself to the mud. He didn’t want to get back up. All was lost. But then he heard something that left him numb, “Lord Walter is here!” A huge roar of approval went up as men pointed their swords and spears towards the sky in joy! And then he saw him. Atop his white stallion, the Lord of Longford pierced through the enemy. He saw Lord Walter catch an arrow mid air just when it was about to core his eye. What a magnificent warrior! Walter Torrington tossed it aside and jumped off his horse, piercing his sword into an enemy as he landed. Victor could not believe his eyes. A night ago he had wept over his Lord’s corpse that lied cold in his coffin and now he stood before him. Just then the knight who had hit him came thundering down on Victor, swaying his axe. He hit Victor’s helm with the side of his weapon. His head exploded with pain, his skull suddenly heavier than a boulder. Victor’s sword fell. He clawed on the ground for anything he could get his hands on, but the knight hit the side of his axe on Victor’s face once more and he fell down again. He did not recall hitting the ground, but when he looked up there was only sky above him. He rolled onto his side and tried to find his feet, but pain shuddered through him and the world throbbed. The knight drew up above him. "Lord Victor," he boomed down. "You are mine. Do you yield?" Yes, he thought, but the word caught in his throat. He made a croaking sound and fought his way to his knees, fumbling for a weapon. His sword, his dirk, anything . . . "Do you yield?" The knight loomed overhead. He seemed immense. The axe in his hand a raw piece of steel. Victor's hands were numb, his vision blurred, his scabbard empty. "Yield or die," the knight declared. “Fuck you, pig,” Lord Atwell mouthed and in an instant his head was gone. Lord Walter stood on the other side of the field. The battle seemed to have moved beyond him. No one remained on his part of the field save a large number of corpses. Ravens were already circling and landing to feed. The sound of hooves coming up behind him made him whirl, and he saw King Reynard’s reserve come sweeping along. Walter watched as the remnants of his lines got shattered like glass beneath the hammer of the Dalton charge. He had lost the battle. Then the enemies turned towards him. His eyes met theirs’. Suddenly Lord Walter felt as if the world had stopped moving and then he heard the word, “Charge!” Thousands of mounted men were coming towards him. To kill him. To rip him apart. He readied himself, tightening the grip on his great sword. He could feel the earth shuddering beneath his feet, sweat running through his brow, eyes pierced at the sea of warriors that was charging towards him. This was it. He had failed his sister. He had failed his men. This was his end. He closed his eyes and remembered his father, his late mother and his sisters. But then, a sound of thunderous roar filled the skies. Every eye on the battle field looked up and there it was. A dragon. King Reynard watched open mouthed as the great being flapped its gigantic wings. And then he saw her. Sitting atop the dragon’s back. The Queen. In the blink of an eye the dragon came sweeping down to rain fire on his men. Shrieks of horror went up in the skies as an inferno engulfed them. Many ran to save their lives, many got cooked. The dry grasses and stands of wheat went up at once. The wind fanned the flames and blew the smoke into the face of the King. The scent of fire sent the horses into panic, and as the smoke thickened, horse and rider alike were blinded. Their ranks began to break as walls of fire rose on every side of them. The remaining of the Torrington men waited with their bows and spears and made short work of the burned and burning Dalton men who came staggering from the hellhole. More than twenty thousand men died in the flames and what remained of King Reynard’s men perished from swords and spears and arrows. The beaten King looked on as the battle slipped from his hands. All was lost. He began to flee but found someone standing before him. A ghost of his past. A man he had killed. “I hope you find peace in the afterlife,” Lord Walter said before putting his sword through Reynard’s belly. Blood sprouted from his mouth before he fell to the ground. Dead. The echoes of, “Long live the Queen!” and “Long may she reign!” filled the air. A smile ran across Walter’s face. The war was over. They had won. CHAPTER– X THE END The night that followed was that of celebration. Lord Walter held a small feast to mark their victory and everyone drank to the health of the Queen. Charlotte herself drank a large amount of beer on the insistence of the Lords and knights present, though she had not wanted to. She had not made water in days, and the last thing she wanted was more liquid getting pumped inside her tired bladder, but she very well could not refuse the men who had fought for her. As the night darkened and the Queen went to her bed, sleep evaded her. She was beginning to grow less and less confident in her ability to hold her piss and was clenching her muscles as tight as she could, her calmness slowly slipping away. The pressure was getting to her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her bladder filled considerably during the night and by the time it was morning, Queen Charlotte was feeling a fairly intense urge to piss. She knew there was no room left for her bladder to expand and she had little will power to continue her hold. But regardless, she got up and dressed herself. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode but the Queen withheld her pressure and waited calmly until it was time for her to leave for the capital. She was dying to get to the castle, rush to the privy and take the piss of her life. She just wanted to let it all out. Hold on, you can hold on, she told herself. Waves of urgency came upon her again and again as her bladder attempted to release its contents to save itself from bursting apart but the Queen held on, endlessly. Her composure unshaken. But inside her chest, her heart beat faster than ever, her head heavier than a boulder. She realized she wasn’t able to think straight, did she really needed to pee that much? It did not matter. She would hold it till she reached inside the walls of the King’s Fort. Inside her chamber. Inside her privy. Only then would she relieve herself. She thanked all the Lords for their support in the war and kissed her brother’s brow before climbing atop her horse, barely controlling her immense need to piss. They all waved at her, Walter, Gunther, Martha and the rest, and she waved back, and so did her son who rode right beside her. Surrounded by a dozen guards, they went on their way as the others looked on. As they rode on into the dusk, Charlotte found herself grabbing her crotch whenever she was sure no one was looking. She could not believe the pressure, it was more than she’d felt ever before. She had never wanted to wee this badly in all her life, yet she was determined not to let it show to the men who rode with her and especially not to her son. She reminded herself that she did not need to worry; her bladder was cast-iron, strong and unbreakable. But then why did she feel so worried? She realized she did not want to think about it. They’d get to the capital tomorrow anyway, until then she’d just not think about it. She just pressed her crotch on the saddle of her horse and rode on. After another hour of riding, they spotted a watchtower. It meant they were on the border of her father’s lands and the royal grounds started from here on out. As they got closer to the tower, Charlotte spotted three armoured men on horsebacks. One carrying a banner with the rampant Griffin of House Seymour on it, the sigil of her late husband’s house and now hers. The three men rode towards them, grasping swords and shields. “It’s an honour to have you here, my Queen and my Prince,” one of them said, “I would like to congratulate you on your victory.” “Many thanks to you, my friend,” Queen Charlotte said forcing a smile. Her bladder was absolutely bursting by this point, her desperation growing by the minute. She realized her hands were shaking. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she was growing restless and panic was starting to crawl up her chest. Was this because she had to urinate? No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t be. She was the Queen. She could hold on as long as she wanted to. Then why was she sweating? Why was she afraid of losing control? Why? Why? Then, it suddenly hit her, I cannot hold it. M-my bladder is going to explode! I have to piss....i-it’s going to come out! I need to find somewhere to go! I have to piss! Oh my god, I have to piss! Her body was trembling, but she couldn’t let it show to everyone. Hide it, hide it! She screamed within. Holding the reins tighter in her trembling hands. “My Queen, we’d be honoured to have you as our guest at the tower, to share our meat and mead and our roof for the night,” Oliver, one of the men said. Albert, the captain of the Queen’s escort replied, “I thank you for the offer, but we must continue on our way to the capital.” “Wait,” Charlotte said suddenly. “I think we will accept your offer of hospitality. I am sure my guards are hungry, and my back is sore from riding. If you could give me a private room with a bed in which I could rest till the morrow, I would be very grateful to you.” “My Queen,” Albert whispered quickly. “... the capital is just a few hours away, we’ll reach home if we cont--” “I have given my command,” Charlotte said sternly, although on the inside she was frantic. She’d already waited past the breaking point. She knew she didn’t have much time left. “We’ll rest here for the night,” she finished much more politely, turning back to Oliver. “Of course, my Queen,” Oliver said with a bow. “I thank you. With haste, then,” Charlotte said loudly over the whispered protests of her guards. She ignored them completely as she reined her horse to follow Oliver towards the tower. It was a short ride, and soon they were dismounting and making their way into the tower. Oh, she couldn’t wait to piss! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! She screamed internally at Oliver, who was leading them inside. Charlotte walked into the lobby, her bladder ready to crack, “My room?” she asked straight away. “My Queen, would you like some wine before your rest?” he asked. “N-no, not at all,” Charlotte held her brow, squeezing her thighs as tightly together as she could, “Just show me to my room, please....” “Of course,” Oliver replied. “If you would follow me.” Charlotte turned to step after him, and he led her to the base of the tower's staircase. She trembled at the thought of climbing up stairs when she was just moments away from losing complete control of her bladder. Nor did she have the energy neither the time to fight off her need anymore. Still, there was no escaping it. She lifted her right leg and took the first step of the tall tower, then another with her left. Every time she raised a leg, her thigh pressed into the bottom of her bladder, causing it to send out a pulse of pain and pressure that rippled through her body. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, and she pressed her thighs together, her hands gripped in tight fists, nails digging into her pale skin. Charlotte gasped in pain, audibly but quietly, and her bladder throbbed strongly. Then, suddenly, without her consent, her pole opened for a full second and a long, hot leak escaped into her smallclothes. She froze in panic and quickly stood straight, clenching her muscles, stopping herself from wetting her dress any further. Looking down in horror and shame, she saw the wet spot on her dress, now dark green from the sudden spurt of her warm urine. Fuck, this is so embarrassing! Despite her humiliation, she continued to climb the stairs, grabbing her crotch as tightly as she could. Finally she came to a thick wooden door at the fifth floor, and she grasped the handle, stumbled inside and yelled, “Thank you so much!” to Oliver before banging the door shut at his face! She dashed straight towards the window, lifting up her dress and tearing down her small clothes as she did so. Stricken with panic, she threw her bottom over the edge of the window and at that very moment, the flood inside her erupted completely. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooohhhhhhhh mmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy ggggoooooddddd!!!” Queen Charlotte threw her head up as her eyes closed themselves tight with the immense relief that flowed through her exhausted body. Her toes curled in response of the enormous release. So much pressure... for so long... “Oooooohhhh tthhhaaannnnkkk ggggoooddd!!!” she groaned, the relief rendering her unable to open her eyes. Her whole body shivered with respite as the endless flow of piss streamed out of her. Her brain felt numb. It felt so good to finally release it! Her bladder was stretched to the bursting point. How she had managed to hold it this long she’d never know. She could feel the stream carry her stress out with it. Oh, how long had she waited for this! This glorious feeling of relief. Another heartfelt groan of relief escaped her throat as she let out her long held waters. Oh, how much her bladder had ached! The feeling of bliss as she finally felt her organ shrink was beyond what words could describe, it was pure ecstasy. The tower had come as a blessing in her time of desperate need. There was no way she could have held it all the way to the capital with her bladder that full. But now it was over. She did not have to worry anymore. She was saved. “Phew!” she breathed as she felt the heavy stream run out of her, I really needed that. The relief was so overpowering that she felt light headed. It felt so good! But this private moment of her release was interrupted when a fat man suddenly burst into her room! “My Queen!” the man said with a big smile on his face, “Am I disturbing you?” Charlotte’s eyes widened in shock and humiliation and with the fear of being found out! She didn’t know what to do or what to say! She froze where she was, not moving an inch as her piss continued to flow out of her. “Oh, Your Highness! You mustn’t sit on the window like that!” he yelped, “You might fall off!” The man she recalled as Lord Peter Walden. Many years ago she had granted him the custody of this watchtower for his dedicated service to the throne. Now he was standing before her, about to find out that she was weeing out of the window of his tower. Get lost! Get out, you idiot! She screamed within. “M-my Lord, I-I assure you that I’m safe,” she said, trying her best to cut off her flow but her sphincters were too worn out, “T-to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” “I am most grateful to you my Queen for the generosity you’ve shown us by being our guest for the night,” he said, “I hope you find your stay comfortable.” Yes! Please get out of the room! Get out! Now! “T-thank you, M’lord, that is so kind of you,” she forced a smile that told she wanted to kill him, “Is that all? You may leave now.” She was trying her best to stop the flood that was pouring out of her, all while keeping a straight face but it was out of her control now. There was no stopping it. “Oh, my Queen, I must say we’ve never had a ruler more generous and kind than Your Highness,” he went to sit on her bed, much to Charlotte’s horror, “My Queen is the fairest of all!” he laughed. Queen Charlotte felt like she’d rip him apart, but she was stuck on the window, her river of wee going on and on and on. Then finally he stood up, “Well, my Queen, I beg for your leave now. I’d look forward to seeing you at the feast,” he bowed and left with a smile, closing the door behind him. Charlotte let out a breath of relief. Lord Peter was an old man. She hoped he wouldn’t have noticed what she was doing. Her piss continued unabated for a few more minutes before she found the strength to cut off the flow and quickly climb off the window. She had botched her family name and her title of the Queen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She still had to pee a lot but her bladder was now empty more than half, which meant she had let the pressure off enough to be able to ride home. She looked out of the window as she adjusted her smallclothes and found that the wall was drenched and at the ground a massive puddle sat as if made by an elephant. A small pond of warm piss. I shouldn’t have relieved myself like that. She felt a sense of guilt overcome her but she tried to suppress it. She quickly adjusted back her dress and went down for the feast. That whole night, the Queen didn’t even look at Lord Peter out of embarrassment, but the old man seemed normal to her, as if nothing had happened. Maybe he had not found out what she was doing back in the room. She thanked the God and participated in the feast with utmost graciousness. During the entire feast, Charlotte didn’t take any wine or beer but only stuck to timely sips of water. Her bladder was completely exhausted and the last thing she wanted was more liquid making its way into it. They left for the capital early on the morrow and after a few hours ride, they saw the massive walls of Godswick at a distance. People praised her name as she rode through the city streets and children ran behind her contingent. But Charlotte cared for none of it. Her desperation had grown since they had left the tower and the Queen once again found herself on the edge of losing control. She had to get to the castle, and fast. She found a small welcoming party along with the members of the royal council waiting for her at the foot of the King’s Fort, but she dismounted and walked past them, steeling herself from grabbing her crotch in full view of her people and leaving her son behind in her frantic run to reach the privy. My room. The privy. Have to go so badly, it all took over her mind as she stepped into the great hall of her castle, ignoring the guards. She slowly climbed the stairs that led to her chamber, stopping her piss at the gates. Her breathing was heavy and her bladder completely exhausted. Hurry, hurry, hurry! She told herself. It’s going to come out! She grabbed her crotch as tightly as she could. She would never know how she had managed to put off her need to wee for so long. Somehow she reached the top of the stairs, and she turned towards her chamber. Squeezing her crotch with her trembling hand as she held her breath tight. She screamed out loud as her bladder pulsated madly within her. She needed to piss so badly! And the pressure was increasing rapidly. Her pee was just a hair breadth away from completely pouring out of her and her chamber still seemed so far. Then suddenly a long jet of her hot wee escaped out of her and she stopped in her track, her eyes widened in fear. There was nothing more she could do. I got so close...just a few more- There was no stopping it anymore. Her piss exploded in a thick stream as relief washed over her body. The Queen was wetting herself. She tried her hardest to stop the flow but failed. She looked on in disbelief at the puddle of hot piss as it grew beneath her, her eyes still wide with fear and humiliation. “Stop! Please stop!” she sighed her hands holding her face on the sides. Her body was beaten. It could have not taken the pressure any more. My God, why did you let this happen to me?! Shame crawled up her skin. What if someone saw her like this? Wetting herself in the hallway. She could not let that happen. No. She’d be humiliated for the rest of her life. She needed to move from here, but her body was frozen. She could not move. Her legs trembling as the amazing relief flowed through her. “My Queen?” Charlotte’s heart practically stopped. She looked up, eyes wide. Her handmaidens Lucille and Mary stood before her, looking on with disbelief. The Queen was wetting herself. This was a sight they shouldn’t have witnessed. The Queen’s embarrassment flowed from under her dress like a river, soaking into the carpet and spreading out in every direction. Her body was fatigued and she was completely defeated, humiliated in front of her servants, everything she thought of herself as a Queen flowing out of her, dampening the bottom of her skirt. It just went on and on, a seemingly endless stream of hot piss that nearly reached Lucille and Mary who were standing several meters away. Despite the absorption of the carpet, the puddle reached the ledge of the second floor of the entrance hall and fell to the marble below. Charlotte could hear it splattering against stone even at this distance, and she knew there was absolutely no hiding such an accident. Even if she banished Lucille and Mary from the Capital, people would come into the hall at some point and see the mess coming from her wing of the castle. I'm going to have to run. Just shift to some other country and make a living as a cook. What if Iwan finds out about this? Oh, no! Not him! It was several minutes before her waterfall fell silent. Her puddle was almost ten feet in span and the only sound that could be heard was of her pee falling to the floor below. Her two servants still stood by, watching her in disbelief. She wished they would look away, but it made no difference now. Her body and mind fatigued, she looked at the two young girls. “So, what is going to happen now?” Charlotte asked them, a semblance of hurt and humiliation in her voice. “Are you going to run and tell everyone what I have done here? This is a good chance for you to have your vengeance for how poorly I’ve treated you all, isn’t it?” The two of them looked between Charlotte and her colossal puddle. They knew if the word of this got out, the Queen would have to face an embarrassment like no other. Mustering her voice, Mary spoke first. “It was me who did this. I lost control of my waters. Please, forgive me.” Charlotte sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time in what felt like days. “Oh, my sweet girl, that is so kind of you....,” she breathed. “However, nobody will believe that a tiny one like you could hold this much piss. I fear there is no possible way for me out of this.” “I couldn't hold it either,” Lucille said suddenly, “We were so occupied in preparing for your welcome since morning, that we didn’t get a chance to use the chamberpot. We beg for your pardon, Your Highness...,” At this very moment, Charlotte loved these girls like they were her own daughters. “You would take the blame for this, after how I have abused you over the years?” “We owe you everything we have, my Queen,” Lucille said, “We were born to serve you.” “I will never forget this,” Charlotte said, “You two will be rewarded with whatever you want for this.” “Please, my Queen,” Lucille said. “Just see yourself to your chamber to wash.” Charlotte nodded, her heart full of gratitude, before she rushed towards her chamber. The End
  8. Guest

    female A Long Shift

    Hello! This is a story I wrote for OmoL, who had the idea of a waitress from a diner getting desperate at work and rushing home to use the toilet. Even though I don't think it's my best work writing-wise, I had a lot of fun working on this, and I hope you all enjoy reading it ? “Hey ma'am? Can I get another glass of sweet tea?” Laura stopped in her tracks, looking to the customer with an anxious expression on her face. She managed to force a smile and respond, “Of course.” She grabbed the pitcher of iced tea off the nearby counter and walked towards the customer slowly, cautiously. The pitcher had just been filled, and Laura had to move with great care to make sure none of the liquid sloshed out. You could say the pitcher and Laura’s bladder had a few things in common. It’d had been a long and busy day at the diner where Laura worked. People just kept pouring in, never giving the staff a chance to catch their breath. It was also in the middle of summer, and although the a.c worked just fine, it did little to help with so many individuals packed into one space. Between running from table to table and grabbing food from the scorching hot kitchen, Laura had to drink a lot of water throughout the day just to keep from overheating. Sadly, gulping down glasses of water was all Laura had time to do. As the day had progressed she made many attempts to run the restroom, but something always got in the way. A broken glass that needed to be swept up, another table that needed to be served, or another customer asking for a refill. Finding it increasingly hard to keep still, Laura rubbed her thighs together as she poured, the sound of trickling liquid torturing her. Thankfully, everything above her knees was covered by the 1950s-esque waitress dress she was required to wear. After being thanked by the customer, Laura put the pitcher back down and glanced at the clock hanging above her. It read 6:30 pm. “Oh thank God.” Laura thought, rushing to get out of sight and clock out before she was asked to do anything else. She shuffled into the empty break room, closing the door behind her before pressing her legs together and bouncing up and down. It felt so good to be able to squirm after having to hide her need for so long. Once she felt a bit more in control, Laura grabbed her things and took a quick look in the mirror propped up against the wall. Her dark brown hair was a mess, slowly falling out of the bun she had put it in before work started. There were faint, dark circles beneath her hazel eyes, a result of staying up late before remembering she had work in the morning. The dress she was wearing clung to her curvy figure well, but it was a bit wrinkled from all the running around she did. It was a good thing her shift was ending, because she was starting to look a bit unhinged. Laura straightened out her appearance the best she could before throwing all of her things in her bag and heading to the restroom, which was right by the back door of the building. Her bladder quivered in anticipation as she drew closer and she had to stop and squirm for a moment to calm it down. However, when Laura approached the door, her heart dropped down to her stomach. In front of her was a crudely written sign that read, “OUT OF ORDER”. “Shit…” Laura hissed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She tried to go in anyway but the door was locked. She felt her bladder jolt once again, unhappy that it's chance to empty was snatched away. It looked like she would just have to try and make it home. Sighing, Laura tore herself away from the restroom and walked out of the building. She hopped into her car and took a few minutes to fidget in private, steeling herself for the long drive ahead, before pulling out of the parking lot. “It usually only takes about 20 minutes to get home.” Laura thought. “I should be able to hold that long…” Laura wished she didn’t have to drive, longing to press her legs together. Whenever she didn’t have two hands on the wheel she placed one on her lap, just barely resisting the urge to shove it between her thighs. She placed a hand on her stomach to rub her sore bladder, and was horrified to feel something round and hard. She glanced down to find that her bladder was so full that it was beginning to bulge out of her abdomen. This revelation only seemed to increase Laura’s desperation, and she whimpered as she writhed around in her seat. “Only ten more minutes…” Even with the ticking time bomb in her abdomen being squished by her seat-belt, Laura didn’t think she was in too much trouble. She was confident that she would make it home dry, even though it might be a bit of close call. That confidence was shattered when she turned the corner to see a block of cars in the distance. “Oh for fuck’s sake...” She said, slowing and eventually stopping behind the car in front of her. “Of course there’s traffic.” A work convoy a few miles ahead was causing traffic to move unimaginably slow. Laura dug her nails into her thigh while she rocked back and forth, her patience wearing down by the minute, and took the opportunity to cross her legs tightly while she waited for the road to clear. She couldn’t manage to sit still, feeling like she’d burst if she stopped moving for even a second. “Gotta pee, gotta pee…” Fifteen minutes later, Laura was officially frantic. She was bouncing, scissoring her legs, rubbing her thighs together and anything else she could think of to try and keep everything in. She finally gave into the urge to hold herself and pressed a hand into the skirt of her dress. The relief it offered drew a quivering sigh from her lips, but it still wasn’t nearly enough. Laura wished she could sit on her heel and grind into it for more pressure, but her car was too small. On the bright side, traffic was beginning to clear, and Laura uncrossed her legs so she could drive properly, despite the ache in her abdomen and between her legs that advised against it. Rocking her hips, Laura drove as fast as she legally could, whimpering and cursing to herself all the while. The pressure was getting excruciating, and the simple thought of getting to the toilet was enough to make her bladder spasm. Finally, Laura was right down the street from her home. She came across another red light and shoved both of her hands into her crotch once she’d stopped the car. She was panting now, her body tense and legs quivering with the effort to keep her seat dry. “Oh, I have to go-ah!” Laura yelped. She felt something warm and wet escape her, dampening her hands. She looked down and found a small wet spot on her dress. A string of curses escaped her mouth as Laura held herself even tighter, begging the light to turn green before she leaked again. Once it did, Laura sped down the road and pulled into her driveway. She grabbed her bag, got out of the car and hobbled to the front door, keeping a hand buried between her thighs. She bounced up and down while she frantically searched for her keys. “Come on, come on…!” She whined, feeling another couple of drops leak out, and began to dance from foot to foot as she shoved the key into the door. As soon as the door opened, Laura nearly collapsed into the house, slamming the door behind her and dropping her things before shoving her other hand into her crotch. She ran in place for a second, begging her body to hold on for just a few more minutes. Slowly, Laura shuffled down the hall towards her bathroom, pausing every few seconds to squeeze her legs together. Another few spurts escaped her the second she placed her hand on the door knob. It took all of Laura’s willpower not to give into the relief, trembling as she felt streams of piss rolling down her leg. She knew she only had a few seconds left before the dam broke. She had to make one final push. After taking a deep breath, Laura threw open the door and dashed to the toilet, scrambling to slide down her underwear as her bladder let out leak after leak. Finally, Laura sat down on the toilet and let go. Laura buried her face in her hands and let out a loud moan of relief. The sound of her stream was almost deafening, pounding against the water below. The ache in her abdomen slowly disappeared along with with the bulge her bladder had created, and she lost herself in the feeling of release after holding for so long. By the time she was done, Laura was almost panting with relief. However, she knew she hadn’t made it home completely dry, and looked down to inspect the damage. Her underwear was completely soaked, along with her legs. She noticed that there were multiple drops on the floor, and a small puddle outside the bathroom door, which she neglected to close. “Thank God I live alone…” She thought. Although she basically wet herself, and had a bit of a mess to clean up, Laura was satisfied. She was just happy to not have that unbearable sensation between her legs anymore. However, for some odd reason, she felt another, more pleasurable one, take its place.
  9. About this - This story is a sequel to Uncomfortable Decisions. Give that a read if you haven't already! If you're short on time though, this story should make sense as a standalone. Even though it continues exactly where the previous one ended, I have kept the references to a minimum ? ----------------------------------------------- While Mary was contemplating the pleasures of a long denied wee, her smart watch beeped to let her know Josh would be there to pick her up in 15minutes.Well, she certainly didn't want her boyfriend to enter that labyrinth of a parking lot. It would take them forever to get in and out in this Friday evening crowd. She had told him she'll meet him outside if she could. Dammit. She still had to get rid of her "coffee". She was cutting this close.Cursing silently she willed her flow to stop. She felt empty, but pee was still trickling out of her poor over tired bladder. After another 30s or so, she just cut it off and started wiping. As much as she wanted to finish this properly, she wanted to meet her boyfriend before he entered that lot and they were stuck forever. And, if she was honest, the thought of keeping a full bladder under control, again, was not unexciting. They were planning to stop for food soon anyway, she could finish up there. Or not. "We'll see how it goes", she murmured to herself while buttoning her jeans back, without any trouble this time. She hurriedly washed her hands and left to dispose her trash......Josh was hoping Mary wouldn't be waiting for him on the road. See, the thing is, when he was leaving office, the gents was closed for cleaning. He didn't really need to pee, not too bad anyway, so he left without bothering to wait. (I mean, since when do grown men queue outside toilets?)But now that he thought back to it, he hadn't peed since his lunch break. Which was at 1. And it was nearly 5 now; between his regular diet sodas, coffee and waters, he probably had about a litre and half of liquids sloshing inside him. He still wasn't desperate or anything, he could control his needs as long as he needed to, thank you very much. But a pee would have been damn nice. Like stretching to your full height after being cramped in an economy class flight seat for hours.He was hoping he could use the toilets in Mary's office or reception. In fact, he was positively looking forward to it. No, he didn't need to pee per se, he could wait until convenient, he was an adult with a large bladder capacity. But he really really would have liked to.Which is why he had to stifle a groan when he saw Mary standing beside the road, ready to go. He pressed his thighs together as he lent over to open the passenger door. Oh well, they would stop for food soon - that'll have to do. He wished he wasn't driving - keeping his thighs together and crossing his ankles felt nice. But he was a full grown adult - he wasn't a slave to his bladder. The situation was under control; they'll be in the cafe in no time at all. He'll be just fine. He kissed Mary hello and started driving while keeping his thighs as close together as possible. His bladder protested the further wait by pounding within his abdomen, but he refused to give in and ask Mary to drive. He was in control, not his bladder. As they fell in to an easy conversation, he managed to almost forget the building pressure against his pee-hole. ---------------------------------------------- Author's Note - I know this chapter is short, and contains no desperation. It'll get better, I promise ? But I wanted to put something out there - it is too easy to procrastinate with writing unless I have something out here, and getting feedback ...
  10. Guest

    Ally's Challenge

    Hello all! So I originally wrote this in the thread of my first story, Ally's Hold, but decided that I should probably give this chapter and it's continuation their own thread, since they're in a different perspective and have a bit of different tone from the first story. I hope that's okay! As I woke up, I slowly realized three things. One- I'd woken up earlier than I usually did. Two- I still had the apartment to myself. And Three- I had to piss like you wouldn't believe. My hand immediately shot under my blankets to grab myself. My bladder was sending urgent signals all throughout my abdomen, telling me that it wanted to empty and it wanted to empty NOW. Under normal circumstances, I simply would've rolled out of bed and gone straight to the toilet. However, these were not normal circumstances. The hold that I'd done the evening prior was only the beginning of the omo related plans I had for the weekend. For Saturday, I'd decided to try a challenge that I saw online once. I wasn't allowed to pee in the same place more than once for the whole day, which meant the toilet needed to be saved for emergencies or a last ditch effort. The only problem was that I hadn't planned ahead at all. I had no idea where I was going to pee first. I slowly sat up, trying not to irritate my bladder, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I crossed them tightly as gravity worked it's magic and pushed all of the liquid I was trying to contain downwards. After a few moments, the wave subsided and I gingerly stood up. My stomach felt firm and heavy, as if I'd drank too much too fast. I waddled out of my bedroom in search of a place to relieve myself for the morning. Walking past the bathroom was awful. I desperately wanted to rush in and relieve myself of a night's worth of piss, and the thought alone caused me to stop for a few moments, frantically shifting my weight from foot to foot. Eventually, I made it to the kitchen, still dry. A twisted smile formed on my face as I innocently decided that I should brew some coffee while I decided where to pee. The sight and sound of the coffee slowly trickling out of my Keurig drove me up the wall, and I had to hold myself while bouncing rapidly to stay dry. I shakily raised my mug to my lips and whined slightly as I drank, feeling like the drink was getting poured directly into my bladder. Just as I put my mug back down on the counter, a wave a desperation hit, causing me to whimper loudly. I couldn't hold it any longer. Legs shaking, I frantically looked around my kitchen for something to squat over. Tears filled my eyes and my heart began to race as the pressure grew to an unbearable intensity. My eyes landed on the sink, and I let out a groan before shuffling over and yanking my pajama pants down. I felt a drop leak out as I hauled myself up onto the sink and spread my legs. For a moment, nothing. Then, pure bliss. I shakily sighed as my bladder finally released it's contents. All of my tensed muscles relaxed, and I found myself having trouble keeping my balance over the sink. After a minute or two, I was empty and ready to start my day. I spent the rest of my morning cleaning up the house and getting a little work done on the computer, sipping on my coffee all the while. It was about noon by the time I decided to get something to eat. While I slipped on some jeans, I felt a light pang from my bladder. It seemed a bit strange that I already had to go, but I chalked it up to being a bit tired from this mornings and last night's hold. Regardless, I simply continued getting dressed, not planning on emptying any time soon. I finished off my second cup of coffee and headed to my car. I felt myself getting fuller and fuller as I drove around the city, and by the time I'd gotten my food I was feeling more than a little urge to fidget around. "No problem." I thought. "I'm almost home." Big surprise, I was mistaken. My eyes widened as I saw the traffic in front of me, apparently caused by a wreck that had happened further up the street. We weren't moving very quickly, and it looked like I was going to be there a while. Accepting that I was stuck for a bit, I opened my bag of food and began to eat in the car. I'd gotten an extra large soda to help myself fill up when I got home, but when I picked it up I realized that I'd somehow absentmindedly drank half of it already. This didn't bode well. Around 15 minutes later, my legs were bouncing around and my hands were nervously tapping on the wheel. We'd only inched forward a couple of times, and traffic showed no sign of clearing up. I'd also managed to finish up my drink while I ate. Another 10 minutes later, my thighs were frantically rubbing together. I bit my lip, silently begging for traffic to clear up so I could head home and find a place to empty. I wanted to hold myself so badly, but I was worried that someone might see through my car window. I settled for grabbing and fiddling with the hem of my shirt instead. 5 more minutes later, the urge to hold myself won out as I buried a hand between my legs. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a good grip because of the jeans I was wearing. I also couldn't squirm around and cross my legs like I desperately needed to. At this rate, I was going to wet my car seat. I wriggled my hips side to side and whimpered, "Hurry...!" After just a few more moments, I felt my muscles give out for a split second, and my crotch grew warm as a drop slipped out. I was in full panic-mode now, looking around my car for anything to release into. "Oh!" I exclaimed. The cup! I gave a quick glance to the car beside me, making sure the driver wasn't looking in my direction. With shaking hands, I unbuckled my seat belt and my jeans, sighing as some pressure was taken off of my bladder. It took a while, but I managed to shimmy my jeans and underwear down my legs. A sudden wave of desperation overtook me, and I slammed my thighs shut. Another trickle escaped, soaking into the seat. Tears in my eyes, I grabbed the cup and held it to my opening, hoping that I was aiming correctly. I tried to wait a few more seconds to make sure I was adjusted correctly, but I couldn't. The dam burst, and I let out a loud cry of relief as I emptied myself into the cup. The entire time I pissed I kept looking around, making sure that no one saw what I was doing. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. Once I was done, I placed the cup back into the cup holder and put the lid on top before pulling my jeans and undies back up. Traffic still took forever to clear, but waiting was a lot easier now that I wasn't about to explode. I eventually made my way home, excited to continue the rest of my challenge in private. Once I arrived home, I decided to be a responsible human being and get the rest of my schoolwork done. After heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, I grabbed my laptop, retreated into my room and sat down at my desk. I’d been procrastinating all week on some of my assignments, as college students do, and it was time to pay the price. As the large load of work seemed to glare at me from my laptop’s screen, I sighed and got to work. For a few hours, the room was filled with the sound of my fingers tapping away on the keyboard. I shifted to get a bit more comfortable and felt a small twinge of need from my bladder. So of course, like any other normal person, I promptly stood up and got another glass of water. I decided that I wasn’t going to find somewhere to pee until all of my work was done. The work kept me distracted for a rather long time, only really noticing my need for the restroom whenever I moved too much. It also helped that I was pacing my drink intake, something I’d neglected doing all weekend. However, I was still drinking something, and what comes in must come out. I’d just finished my fourth assignment when I felt my bladder contract once again, this time a bit more harshly. I shifted in my seat, opting to cross my legs at the ankle. It helped a little. “Mkay, done with philosophy.” I muttered. “Moving on to math.” For math, I’d need a notebook to write my work on. I rolled my chair back and bent down to open the drawer I kept my notebooks in, squishing my bladder. It voiced its displeasure with a series of pangs, and I squeezed my thighs together in response. I got what I needed and returned to an upright position, expecting my bladder to calm down once it was no longer squished. For the second time that day, I was mistaken. All throughout the next hour I struggled to stay focused and finish my work while my bladder spasmed and a familiar pressure began to build. I tried to avoid squirming and grabbing at myself, thinking that if I didn’t pay attention to my need, it would lessen. However, as a particularly intense wave of desperation hit me, my hips began to rock. My mind was beginning to cloud, thinking of toilets and running water instead of the equations I was supposed to be solving. Another wave hit, and I bit my lip to suppress a groan. My legs began to bounce. By the time I started my last assignment, I was rocking back and forward in my chair, my breathing shallow and quick. Out of curiosity, I ran a hand over my abdomen to find a small, firm bulge. I could almost feel the liquid inside, thrumming against my skin, aching to be let out. I gave myself a quick squeeze and whined when I took my hand away. It felt so good to hold myself, but I needed two hands to type. Doing homework is exceptionally hard while you’re desperate. Not only was it impossible to focus, but I was trying so hard to rush and finish that I found myself making simple mistakes. I tapped frantically at the backspace button, mourning the time that I was wasting in correcting a mistake. At that moment, every second counted towards keeping myself dry. After 20 more minutes of bouncing, squirming and whimpering, I finally finished my last assignment. I closed my laptop a little harder than I meant to and rolled away from my desk, shoving my hands between my legs. It didn’t help as much as I’d like, but the little relief it gave still drew a shaky sigh from my lips. Now came the hard part. I stood up from my chair and almost immediately bent almost double, the weight of all the water I’d drank making itself known. I gently rubbed my bladder once again to find that it’d grown even larger and firmer. I had to find somewhere to release, fast. There was nothing in my bedroom that could help, so I had to relocate. Quietly whimpering to myself, I hobbled out of my bedroom and into the hallway, looking around for something the entire time. Once again, I was faced with the torturous aspect of passing the bathroom. As I looked longingly at the slightly open door, shifting my weight from foot to foot, I got an idea. It was about evening time, and I didn’t plan on going out again that day. “Why not go ahead and take a shower?” I thought. With a shaking hand, I reached for the doorknob and stepped into the bathroom. My desperation rocketed to excruciating heights when I saw the toilet. It felt like my entire body was screaming, “It’s right there! No one is stopping you, so just go!” But I didn’t. I closed the bathroom door and took off my clothes, squirming a bit more frantically due to the feeling of being naked making my need worse. Then, taking a deep breath and squeezing myself firmly with my other hand, I reached out and turned the shower on. A strange sound between a growl and a whine escaped my throat as the water pounded against the shower floor. I crossed my legs and bounced, the sound triggering a me-too response in my bladder. It pounded and throbbed, begging me to empty it, to stop torturing it. I wanted nothing more than to sit on the toilet right next to me and release. But I didn’t because I knew the more I held out, the better the relief would feel. Instead I pulled the shower curtain back, and braced myself as my thighs quivered. The warm water hit my body, and I experienced a whole new level of desperation. The water dripped and splashed everywhere while I squirmed and writhed in place, tempting me to let go. It felt like my very nerves were on fire, and my bladder throbbed so intensely I thought I would black out from the pressure. Through pure willpower, I managed to hold on for a few minutes, unable to hold back the moans and whines spilling out of my mouth. I felt a strange numbness spread throughout my abdomen and my pelvic floor flutter. I knew what was happening. This was it. I was done. With a cry of relief, my bladder finally gave out. I couldn’t tell what was the water from the shower and what was me, but as I sank to my knees, gasping for air, I didn’t care. All that mattered was the waves of incredible relief surging through me. I’m not sure how long I sat in the shower like that, but I eventually found the strength to stand, wash myself off, and stagger back into my room to change into some pajamas. I all but collapsed onto my bed, my eyes heavy. It was only mid-evening, but I decided a little nap couldn’t hurt. I think I’d earned it.
  11. Hi, so, you may or not have seen me around and if you have checked my profile you might know that I didn't want to post any drawings because I didn't want to use the characters I had already created (which are intended for comedy and action at some point in the future), the simple solution I came with is to create more characters specifically made for this site and fetish, so don't expect them being mentioned or shown in my other drawing place (https://www.deviantart.com/bombality). So, that being said, my original idea was to present those characters and and end the post with an example of how I was going to be using them but I can't seem to get that example to feel right, so I've decided to show the example first and get feedback on what may be wrong. In case the idea is not clear it's supposed to be a girl about to wet herself, she is not pregnant, that's her bladder bulging making her look like that. Since I already switched the order I was going to do things my next post in this topic will depend on the answers I get (I might even delete it if I get none), also feel free to ask any questions.
  12. 20180930_002153.mp420180930_002328.mp4Hey ! i'm back ? Those 3 videos show you the building up of my desperation with a lot of pee dance and bladder bulge. 20180930_004120.mp4 Contains glimpses of nudity (sorry but I really had to grab my thing not to make a mess on the floor :$ ) Hope you like it ! Looking foward your feedback, suggestions and requests (can't promise anything though, i just moved with 3 roomates which drastically limit my kinky playground ..) 20180930_002153.mp4 20180930_002328.mp4
  13. holditin

    Indra vs Kira

    I just wanted to give a little introduction to this latest story of mine. It was not written how all my others have been, sitting at my computer and typing away. Rather, this one was written on my phone during bus rides to work over a span of many months. I looked it over and believe there are no plot holes or egregious repeats of words, but if there are, that's the reason for it. After finishing it on my phone, I went onto my computer and typed it all out, which took nearly a week's worth of free time to finish. So I hope everyone enjoys it, because I put in a lot of work to make it happen. Also, if anyone has future story ideas they'd like to see, as long as they involve a bladder of steel or two, be sure to message them to me. I love hearing new ideas. And without further ado, here's Indra vs Kira. Day 1 Growing up as a girl in India, my parents tended to be strict with me on certain issues. My bedtime, meal portions, and most central to this particular story, my bathroom habits. You see, in the area we lived in, sanitary bathrooms were not exactly easy to come by. This problem was doubled by the fact that I was a girl, because while men had no hesitation in whipping it out and taking a leak on a side road, it was considered extremely indecent for me to pop a squat in any but the most enclosed of spaces. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side in this matter, because growing up I had always had a bladder that was, shall we say, below average. That’s probably putting it kindly, as my parents would complain to no end about my lack of control. But whether they tried forbidding bathroom breaks, mandating regular sphincter training, or even messing with liquid intake, it didn’t make a difference. I was just as liable to pee myself no matter what, a fact that brought my parents great shame. I couldn’t deal with the constant embarrassment, and when an opportunity arose for me to escape the situation, I took it. A special exchange program had been set up with some high schools in my district of India and some in the southern United States of America. I graded highly enough in my studies to qualify for the opportunity, and I jumped at the chance. My parents didn’t really question my decision, and I think they realized it would be best for everyone involved. Two weeks later I was a freshman at Houston Area High School in beautiful Texas. All exchange students were set up in college style apartments, and though we were admittedly young to basically be living on our own, we all quickly got the hang of it. An interesting thing happened when I was finally free from the burden of my parents; constant pressure – my bladder control began to improve. At first I thought I was just imagining things, but as my pees became more and more volumous, I had to admit that my bladder actually seemed to be getting bigger. Before long I wasn’t peeing at all during the school day, and after such a long time of hating my weak bladder, I quickly began gaining pride in my new and improved holding tank. Even my classmates began to take notice of how long I was waiting before relieving myself. By my senior year I was a bona fide All Day Girl. My bladder of steel always seemed to have extra room, no matter how much I drank or how long I went without a bathroom break. As my senior year drew to a close, my parents made arrangements to come and visit for the graduation, followed by a trip around the US, as they had never been there before and intended to take it all in. As we chatted on the phone a week prior to the visit, making final preparations, I casually mentioned that I was much better at waiting for bathroom breaks now. Instead of the flood of well wishes I expected to receive for this comment, my mother gave a short laugh, one quickly echoed by my father, and sarcastically told me that that was good. She then changed the subject entirely. It was clear to me that she didn’t believe me in the slightest. When the conversation ended I found myself nearly heartbroken by this… But then my demeanor changed. If they weren’t going to believe me, then the only way to prove it to them would be to show them in person. My graduation took place on a cool Saturday evening at a converted church, of all places. My parents were both in attendance, along with my older sister Kira. Oh Kira, as happy as I was to see my older sister, just now finishing her studies in engineering at a respected Indian university, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how she was the favorite sibling of Mom and Dad. Not only was she admittedly more studious than I and regarded as a much better and more proper Indian woman, but Kira also kept my parents’ favor by way of her iron bladder control. While I was complaining of holding it after mere hours, Kira would be showing no greater sign of needing a toilet than pressing her thighs together, often waiting the better part of a day before seeking relief. I was sure she had kept up with her bladder training while at university, but secretly I hoped my capacity had overtaken hers. I was backstage, waiting for the graduation ceremony to begin, when I peered to the seating area and saw my family choosing a good vantage point from which to spot me. I watched as Kira held the seats while my parents visited the lavatories. While they still prided their daughters on their ability to last without a restroom, age had finally caught up to them in this regard. Kira seemed to be keeping her legs close together, but otherwise looked as calm and frankly as beautiful and perfect as she had years ago when I had seen her last. I had no shame admitting that she was the taller, prettier sister, but hopefully I could now make the case for being the better-bladdered sister. In accordance with my plan to achieve this end, I took another long swig from the water bottle I was carrying with me. Two others sat empty in a waste bin, consumed in the hour since I’d arrived at the church. I’d relieved myself at noon and that was it. Now it was closing in on 7 pm, so I was definitely feeling something building up inside me, but thanks to my newfound status as an All Day Girl, there was no urgency. Finally, at 7, the ceremony began. Truthfully it was overly long and induced severe boredom, both among the graduates and the audience, but it was still a rush to hear the name “Indra Patil” boom over the pa system as I made my way across the stage. I beamed as my family shouted and cheered for me, and that high was enough to sustain me until we were all made free to go at 9 pm. “Indra, darling! That was wonderful!” My mother yelled with delight as she hugged me tight in the lobby. My father was next, more compoased but as happy as I’d ever seen him nonetheless. Big sis gave me a good hug as well, and I was on cloud 9 when my mother suddenly asked, “Do you need to use the bathroom before we leave for the hotel?” I furrowed my brow and replied incredulously, “Isn’t it only a 15 minute ride from here?” “Well yes,” my mom replied, “But I just wanted to make sure you’d be alright. That was a long ceremony, after all, and I know you’re not like Kira. You haven’t gone since the airport back in Mumbai, have you?” Kira shook her head, demurely so as not to embarrass me further, but clearly still proud of her bladder’s lasting ability. I still noticed my sister’s closely held legs and took note that the long hold was taking its toll. While my own bladder was also nagging me due to the three waters I’d chugged down, I made a point to stand with my legs apart as I responded, “It’s ok. I’m not a little girl anymore. I can hold it if I need to. I was actually hoping we could go out to dinner before we hit the hotel.” My father merely shrugged as if to say “your funeral” while my mother regarded me with a look that mixed slight shock with begrudging respect. She then turned to my sister, no doubt aware that Kira had probably been expecting to get free from her long held waters within the hour. “Is that ok with you?” My mother asked her. No mention was made of Kira’s bladder state, but the implication was clear. My mother knew my iron bladdered sister had been holding on for most of the day, and she didn’t want to push the golden goose too far. Tension hung in the air, however, because it was not often that Kira even needed to be consulted about such a matter. But my sister, my perfect, irrepressible sister, just smiled and nodded, “Of course, dinner would be lovely!” Only my well-trained eye saw that her smile was fake. And so we went to a nearby steakhouse for some much needed sustenance. My family was unaccustomed to the Texas cuisine but quickly grew to enjoy it, despite “its lack of anything resembling spice” as my father put it. by the time we’d reached the restaurant those water bottles were definitely wanting to come out of me, but I just handled the increasing pressure and sipped at my medium Coke. I was used to enduring classes with more of an urge than this, so I knew I’d be ok. Kira was also drinking sporadically from her glass of water, but I caught a glimpse of her legs under the table, and they were crossed at the ankles. She was keeping her composure quite well, however, and I wondered briefly if I’d underestimated her bladder capacity. As dinner progressed and Kira’s need didn’t seem to increase, my skepticism in my own bladder returned. Here I was, a confident girl with a bladder that had grown enough to take on all comers in the last couple of years, but as soon as I found myself in the same situation I’d faced so many times as a kid, it was like I reverted back to the state of mind I had all those years ago. Suddenly my brain was telling me that my bladder wasn’t big enough or strong enough to last, especially compared to my ever so perfect big sis. Dinner was finished by 10 and with nothing left to distract me, my bladder felt like a lead weight in my abdomen. At this point I couldn’t tell how much of my urgency was psychological and how much was the 2 plus liters of liquid I’d consumed wanting to escape. As we readied to rise from the table, I was presented with a defining choice. I could admit my need to my parents, follow them dutifully but shamefully to the restrooms and pee to my heart’s content while Kira and her superbladder waited outside. This was the safe option. I’d already lasted longer than any of my family expected, after all. The point had been made to an adequate degree, and maybe, just maybe, I’d held long enough to earn my parents’ respect. Or…I could follow through with my original plan. I could wait longer, and trust that my bladder had enough space and strength in it to last until we reached the hotel. I could prove that my bladder was now a match for Kira. I was on shaky legs as I got up from the table, more from the gravity of the choice in front of me than from my desperation. I glanced over at Kira as she stood. When she thought no one was looking, my sister pressed her legs together hard. It only lasted a second before she went back to standing normally, but I had seen it, and that bit of desperation inspired me. Kira’s bladder was strong, but it wasn’t superhuman. She needed relief at some point too. Perhaps I could last as long. Gritting my teeth to keep from opening my mouth and backing out of my risky decision to continue holding, I followed my family towards the bathrooms. My father entered the men’s room with a grunt, and my mom walked towards the ladies’. When she got to the door she realized that I was not behind her, and turned to ask me, “Aren’t you using the bathroom now dear? You haven’t gone since just before the ceremony.” I nearly just shook my head as a response, but when my mother added that second sentence so naturally, as if it was obvious that I’d peed my tiny bladder empty right before walking on stage because that was surely the only way I’d lasted this long, I couldn’t help but issue a confident retort. “Don’t worry mother. I can wait until I am at a more proper place.” My mother again gave me that look I’d seen so rarely out of her, a mixture of respect and bewilderment, before entering the bathroom to relieve herself. My sister and I stood and made chitchat, both clearly very much in need of the toilets that were now mere feet away, but both continuing to resist them out of pride and good manners. If Kira was impressed with my holding ability thus far she certainly wasn’t showing it. I consoled my ego by telling it that she was clearly just much too desperate to pay me the proper attention. But soon enough our parents returned. Thankful to be spared of more awkwardness, I began to walk out of the restaurant. “Indra, are you sure you don’t also need to go?” My mom asked from behind me. This time I just smiled and shook my head. We arrived at the hotel at 11 at night. 11 hours since I’d seen the inside of a restroom, and probably a few more than that for poor Kira. Despite my sister’s reputation, she was obviously eager to get to our room and free herself from her load of pee. Our room was on the 3rd floor, and when we reached it Kira was the first to enter. She put down her purse on one of the beds while the rest of us entered and quickly made her way into the bathroom situated near the front door. To say she ran in or desperately entered is to do a disservice to Kira’s composure. Her huge bladder is known in my family for a reason, after all. But at the same time, the large amount of urine she was containing clearly needed exit soon, one way or another. My own bladder was beginning to brim with fullness, and I feared that my composure probably didn’t far exceed my sister’s at this moment. I clenched my sphincter hard in anticipation of having to hear Kira’s stream pounding the toilet bowl, and my intuition was correct. There were a few seconds of rustling sounds, followed by a loud hiss as Kira’s piss finally escaped her. My own bladder began to spasm at the sound. It was all I could do to bunch my hands up in my graduation robe and not hold myself openly. I knew that if I did I’d lose all the respect I’d built up with my parents over the course of the night. After perhaps two minutes Kira’s stream dwindled and stopped. It was a piss to remember, and normally I’d be marveling at my sister’s unbelievable bladder capacity. But after my time in America, I was no longer as impressed. In fact, I thought I could take her. Another minute and Kira exited the bathroom, looking truly comfortable for the first time in hours. My father was busy unpacking, but my mother leaned over and told Kira, “It was good of you to wait.” That was about as close as my parents would ever get to addressing someone else’s bladder need, even in private. Kira nodded to her, equal parts confident and delighted to have made her mother happy. Then my sister turned to me, and I saw her smile waver just a bit as she looked me in the eye. In the good old days such a urinary feat would have been met with reverence, respect, and perhaps a tinge of jealousy from me. But as I looked back at her, I knew she saw none of those elements in my visage now. It was time to put the final stage of my plan into action. Casually I walked to the bathroom. My bladder began spasming again with its relief now so near at hand, but I forced myself to continue walking normally. I entered, took off my grad robe, pulled down the skirt I had underneath, then my sliiightly skimpy panties, and released. The whole day of tanking up on drinks had led to this moment, and I hoped it would be worth it. My urine began to hit the water below it, first as a pitter patter, but steadily increasing in volume and strength. 15 seconds into my pee and it sounded nearly like a jet was taking off in the bathroom. Being in such an enclosed space, it was tough to gage how loud my pee was compared to my sister’s, but either way I knew without a doubt that everyone in the bedroom could hear what I was pouring into the toilet. I tried to stop it, but as the waterfall continued to emanate from my vagina, a moan of pleasure escaped my lips. I loved being able to contain so much pee for so long, but when it finally had to come out, the relief was sure worth it. Another minute passed and I felt myself starting to grow empty. Wanting to make this as good a show as possible to my sure to be listening family, I squeezed off my flow until it was a mere trickle. I let that thin stream go on for a good 20 seconds, no problem for my sphincter muscles, even after such a taxing hold, just to let them all think I was about ready to finish up. Then I bore down with everything I had, instantly flushing the rest of my piss out of my stretched bladder and into the bowl. The hiss this produced was extraordinary, as what had to be a half liter of pee was expelled from me in a matter of seconds. Empty at last, I breathed deeply, trying to compose myself. Inside, my mind was a whirlwind, wondering how my family would react to such a display, especially from the supposed runt of the litter, bladder-wise. I quickly pulled my garments back up, heart beating like crazy, washed my hands, and reentered the bedroom. My parents were making a show of busying themselves with unpacking, but I could tell it was a put on. The tension in the room was palpably thick. My newfound bladder capacity was the elephant in the room. As I prepped for bed I saw Kira staring at me. Her face showed concentration, but also something else. Then she nodded slightly and went to change. I pondered that look for an hour as I tried to fall asleep on the hard hotel bed, and finally I figured it out, just before I drifted off to sleep. While I’d intended for my huge piss to be the end of my plan, in reality I’d just thrown the gauntlet down. Kira’s nod was her way of saying, “Ok Indra, my little sister, you want to act like you have the iron bladder in this family. You’ll have to prove it. Consider the challenge accepted.” “Challenge accepted indeed,” I breathed as sleep took its hold on me. Day 2 I awoke the next morning to the sounds of my parents bustling around getting ready for the day. Yawning, I slipped out of bed to begin the arduous process of waking up. Kira had already changed into her clothes for the day and I quickly did the same. Obviously my parents did not have any clothes of mine that still fit, so Kira had generously lent me half of her wardrobe for the vacation. She was skinnier than I, so the jeans shorts I’d chosen were a very tight fit, but it wasn’t like I had much of a choice anyway. By 9 am we were nearly ready to leave, so my parents availed themselves to the facilities one last time. I wondered if my sister and her iron bladder would decide to wait, but she went in right after them to take a hefty morning pee. It was down to me. As Kira’s pee droned on, I contemplated whether I should partake of a morning pee as well. I didn’t really need it, though my bladder certainly had something decent already inside with how much I had drank the previous day. In the end, I decided that if Kira could have a pee then so could I. Better to have it now than to need to stop mere hours into our day. As she came out of the bathroom I slipped in. A quick stare passed between us before I shut the door. My muscles loosened right away when I sat on the toilet, and the feeling of my bladder deflating as my morning pee left it was perhaps even better than it was last night. Clearly my bladder, trained though it was, was happy for the extra relief. We left our hotel and headed out for a day of sightseeing in Houston. As the person who had lived there for the last four years, my parents occasionally asked me for directions or recommendations about where to go next, but for the most part Kira and I were relegated to the role of followers. My parents had been planning this trip meticulously for quite some time, so they had done plenty of research on the places they wanted to visit. With the Texas sun beating down on us, we were all equipped with large water bottles of 1.5 liters each, and they were emptying at an alarming rate. Kira and I wanted to stop to get some real lunch after hours of walking, but my parents allowed us nothing more than a quick stop to refill our water and for them to pee out what they had drank. I was feeling no urge, so waiting was an easy choice. Kira paid the bathroom no mind, window shopping until our parents returned. After more walking, more pictures, and more sights successfully seen, we finally stopped for an extremely late lunch at 3 pm. Kira and I shared a look of exasperated glee at getting the chance to fill our stomachs and rest our feet. I was happy for that look, because it was the first time since last night when both Kira and I were on the same page, as opposed to being bladder rivals. She may have wanted to make my bladder pop to prove a point, and that went both ways, but we were still sisters. We ordered our food, mine coming with a tall lemonade and Kira’s with a large soda, and ate and drank our fill. Both Kira and I made sure to drain our glasses and the refills we were given. It was 4 by the time we finished, which meant neither Kira nor I had visited a bathroom for 7 hours. For an everday girl that would be impressive, but Kira and I possessed bladders that were far from ordinary. Still, I could feel some pee sloshing around in me when I stood up to leave. If Kira felt the same way she showed no sign, standing calmly while our parents peed for the second time on our outing. I caught Kira sizing me up out of the corner of my eye, as if trying to get a gage on my bladder’s condition, so I made sure to stand with my legs farther apart than normal. Upon returning from the restaurant’s washrooms, my mother told us, “You girls have been really good thus far. If either of you get tired, especially you Indra, just let your father and I know and we’ll head back to the hotel.” I read between the lines of my mother’s message to uncover what she was really saying, which was “You two are doing a good job of waiting until we are in a proper place to relieve yourselves. If either of you get desperate, let us know so we can spare you that indecency.” Once again, my mother had recognized that both Kira and I were going all day without a toilet and was giving us an out should we need it. But the fact that she singled me out “especially you Indra”, implying that I would need a bathroom well before Kira, made my blood boil. There was no way I was going to let myself pee if my iron bladdered sister was still holding on. The afternoon passed much as the morning had. Kira and I quickly needed to stop at a water fountain, as our big water bottles were empty for a second time. Kira immediately took a long swig from her bottle, so I followed in kind, after which we filled them right back to the brim. Kira gave me a glance as we rejoined our parents before taking another long drink. Again I followed suit, and that’s when I realized what she was doing. Kira knew I was determined to prove myself and would match her drinking, so she was trying to drink me under the table, so to speak. The confident half of my brain told me that Kira was trying to force an early end to our contest because she was nervous about her continued ability to hold for hours longer; the more reserved half of me was afraid it would work. I forced myself to remain calm. I reminded myself of my bladder’s prowess, thought of all the training that had led to this weekend, and determined once again to hold firm. As the four of us began walking again, I caught Kira’s eye and took a five second chug from my water bottle. Kira’s eyes squinted in annoyance as she drank more as well. With this brand of drinking bravado, Kira and I managed to drain our water bottles dry in only 20 minutes. The effect wasn’t instantaneous, but it was close. By 8 pm it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my need to pee. My bladder had expanded greatly, going from being tight against those wretched too-small jeans shorts to being nearly suffocated against them. I looked down briefly and realized I could see the roundedness of my bladder bulge begin above the shorts, get right up to the edge of the waistband, and then get pressed inward as the constricting shorts refused to budge. I made an attempt to be discreet and put my hand below the snap of the jeans shorts. Sure enough, my bladder was also protruding out down there, meaning those dreadful shorts were literally pushing my bladder back into itself at the exact apex of its size. My capacity was being restricted at the very time I needed it most. Cautiously, I glanced over at my sister. She was more used to the tighter clothes than I, and in fact was in something similar herself. How was she managing to cope with it while I felt my bladder being squeezed and tormented? Then I saw her trick. Kira had casually unbuttoned the snap of her jeans, letting her gigantic bladder bulge expand as much as it needed to minimize the pressure on it. Though by how large it looked, it must have been a lot of pressure anyway! As I continued to watch my well-practiced sister, I noticed her either turning away slightly or doing something distracting with her hands every time my mother or father would go to speak to her. In this way she was managing to hide her improper attire decision from them. I was clearly watching a master at work. Slowly, while everyone had their back to me, I reached down towards my own button. I almost undid the snap. My bladder was screaming for me to. But I stopped myself. For one thing, while Kira had years of experience doing this, keeping her clothing modifications a secret from our parents, it would be my first time at it, and I didn’t think I could pull it off. If my mother saw me walking around in public with unbuttoned pants even for a second it would undo all the goodwill and respect I had gained in the last 24 hours. I simply couldn’t let that happen. But secondly, that deeper part of my psyche that I had started listening to more and more wanted to keep that snap shut and keep the pressure on. It proved I could hold on despite the circumstances, that my bladder was strong enough to cope with it, and it showed that I was doing something that the proclaimed iron bladder of the family wasn’t daring to do. I felt superior to Kira, and that feeling was far too addictive. I couldn’t undo that button, no matter what my bladder said in protest. And so I suffered silently, putting off my bladder’s needs for pride. My bulbous bladder continued to try and break through that deadly button, but to no avail. It simply grew around it, to the point that the pain was starting to make me a bit queasy. But I had come this far, and even though it hurt I knew my limits were still ahead of me. 9 pm came and finally it was full dark. Reluctantly, my mother made the call to return to the hotel. Inside I was joyous, knowing the torment I was going through would soon be over. But on the outside, I did my best to look calm. I think I succeeded. In past years, my parents would notice my relief at getting to the end of a long journey, and they’d guess correctly that the reason for my emotion was my full and quivering bladder, desperate to be emptied. Inevitably they would shoot me a disapproving glare or make a comment about needing to be stronger. Tonight they paid me no heed. I saw Kira breathe outwardly, probably in relief at not having to contain her load much longer, but I wasn’t sure. I could have been grasping for a sign that she had to go worse than me, because I desperately wanted that to be true. But nothing other than her close steps and the ominous bulge of her abdomen over her tight shorts belied the urgency Kira had to be feeling. I had to admit that my sister was succeeding in living up to her reputation. By the time we reached our hotel at 10 pm, Kira’s steps may have been shorter than when we started to return, but otherwise she was doing a remarkable job of keeping her 13 hour bladder in check. I, on the other hand, was feeling the fullness get to me. I struggled, but I couldn’t help coming off as tense when my father turned to ask me something 10 minutes from the hotel. As he turned back around, Kira gave me a look that said “I know you’re just about done in. I’m winning.” I feared she might very well be right and redoubled my efforts to clamp down on my sphincter. When we got inside, my mother immediately entered the bathroom. My father was waiting at the door for his turn. Kira and I gingerly made our way to our bed to sit and ready ourselves for bed, though she was still managing to come off as pristine as ever, while I seemed to be on the verge of losing what slight control I had. It was only once we began sitting that I reminded myself for the first time in an hour that Kira’s button was undone, while my bladder remained squashed. This information was of little use to me, as I still refused point blank to undo the button, but it gave me the little ray of hope I needed to muster the strength to last until bedtime. That came at 11 pm at the urging of my parents, who reminded both of us that we had a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Indeed we did, a winding, all day bus trip that would land us in Oklahoma City. Kira had no shame in going to use the loo first. I almost, almost cracked and asked to go first, but somehow I resisted. After doing so well, I couldn’t bear to show weakness, even when it was past when my parents would be able to accuse me of being weak. After all, I’d just been 14 hours without a pee, but in my holding delirium, I wanted more. I wanted to stay strong for so much longer, and leave my parents, and especially my steel bladdered sister in awe. For a brief second I considered going to bed unrelieved, but then Kira’s torrent started to hiss from the bathroom, and my bladder spasmed hard enough to make me realize that that was simply not going to be a possibility on this night. And so I clenched my thighs together, willing myself not to start holding my crotch in my presence of my parents, and waited for the interminable splatter to end so that mine could take its place. It was perhaps 3 minutes later when Kira’s massive organ ran dry, and another before she calmly exited the bathroom. While the previous night I had felt confidence mixed with the beginnings of desperation as I went in to follow my sister’s pee, tonight I wanted to let loose so badly I could think of nothing else. I walked in quickly, nearly bumping Kira in the process, which earned a smirk from her, but then I was in the bathroom and the door was shut. Frantically I undid the button of those terrible jeans shorts and threw up the toilet lid. I was milliseconds from bending my knees to sit atop that gorgeous porcelain throne when I stopped. My bladder, which seconds before had been cramping with urge after urge to let go, was suddenly calmer. Not calm, because there was still a heck of a lot of liquids stored up in it, but I no longer felt as though I was on the verge of wetting myself. Even though I could let go in the toilet bowl at any moment I chose, I stood and thought. What changed to make the urge die down so completely when I was SO SURE that I was done in? it wasn’t easy to wrack my brain with liters of hot pee wracking my stretched bladder, but I forced myself to continue waiting. With the inviting toilet bowl staring me in the face, I finally realized what had been so obvious. The shorts! No wonder my bladder was throwing so many spasms against my sphincter as the night wore on. That cursed button had been digging into the very core of my bladder at a time when it needed all the capacity it could muster. Kira had been smart enough to loosen her shorts, but my sick pride prevented me from doing the same to ease my strain. That pride had almost cost me everything…but it hadn’t. I had lasted. As I thought about that more a chill of pleasure ran up my spine. It nearly loosened my sphincter enough to allow a gush on the bathroom floor, but I denied myself even that. I began to ponder my options as I stood there. That little demented part of my mind, the one that seemed to be growing the longer my sisterly contest went, wanted me to walk out of the bathroom unrelieved. I considered it as my bulbous bladder throbbed, but eventually brushed the idea aside. I had to think long term, for there was still plenty of trip left. Another plan soon formed in my mind, and I smiled as I fantasized about its implications. But that was for tomorrow, and tonight, my bladder needed to be emptied of over 14 hours of piss. Dong my best to keep from being eager, I finally lowered onto the toilet seat. One, two, three seconds I waited, still resisting, just to remind my aching bladder of who was in control. Then I relaxed my sphincter and let my body have the pee it had been craving for hours. I was like a tap turned on full, which impressed me greatly. I hoped my family would have similar thoughts, though I knew that at the very least Kira would refrain from showing me. One minute turned to two and my stream continued unabated. My bulge was decreasing but wasn’t flat yet. Instead of being content with my current flow, I bore down with my abdominal muscles, urging my bladder to release even faster. For a moment there was no change, but then my stream seemed to nearly double in width. I could actually feel my piss pushing my peehole wider and wider, which was a crazy rush. After 30 seconds of roaring pee splashing into the toilet, I finally ran dry. Sighing with relief and pleasure, I rubbed my now-flat abdomen and stood up. I pulled the jeans shorts back up, noticing as I snapped the button back into place that they felt looser than they had in hours. Then I washed my hands and went back into our hotel bedroom. Once again I felt the tension in the air upon my return from the bathroom. It was not as bad as the previous day, but it was certainly still present. I had just proved that my pee prowess was no fluke. No one spoke as I flopped down on the bed next to Kira, but it seemed as though everyone wanted to. I busied myself with preparing my belongings for tomorrow, when we would be leaving the hotel to take our bus trip to Oklahoma City. My mom suddenly cleared her throat, “You know, Indra, I must say-“ “Mother, what should I wear tomorrow, do you think?” Kira cut in suddenly, and at once our mother changed her tune to speak on the virtues of the long sleeved shirt. It took me a few moments to realize what had just happened, but it dawned on me that Kira had just stolen my moment. My mom was fully prepared to acknowledge my prodigious bladder capacity in front of the entire family and Kira had instantly stopped her and changed the subject! It wasn’t often the “b” word entered my mind regarding my sister, but in light of her blatant sabotage of my compliment, I felt the word boiling to my lips and had to bite my tongue to keep it back. Any remaining qualms I had about beating Kira’s bladder into submission vanished, and as sleep overtook me that night, all I could think was “This. Means. War.” Day 3 I awoke the following morning with sleepy eyes, an ache in my back, and a very slight protrusion in my abdomen. I wouldn’t call it a bulge, not yet, but it was clear my kidneys had been doing some work during the night. it was probably a bit less than what I’d been holding the previous morning, but was certainly an amount that any sane individual would want to rid themselves of before starting their day. Slowly I pulled myself off the bed and got to work finishing my packing. A quick check of my phone revealed that it was 8 am, so 9 hours had passed since I felt desperate relief the last evening. I carefully selected sweatpants with a stretchy elastic waistband, not wanting to repeat the horrors of the day before, and when I was sure my parents weren’t looking, I deftly slipped off my panties and put them in my bag. The less I had constricting my bladder the better, though this also meant greater risk, because if I let loose a spurt there would be nothing to prevent it from instantly becoming visible on my pants. Kira woke up just as I had finished my wardrobe change, and I noted that she also opted for sweatpants, though she justified it to our parents by talking about wanting to be more comfortable on the bus. By 8:30 we were ready to leave, with both of our parents having just entered the loo to ensure they’d be ok for the start of the ride. On the previous days Kira had shown no shame in peeing first after our holds, but on this day she seemed to be making the distinct point of waiting until I’d gone, standing as far away from the bathroom door as possible as we prepared to leave. I sniggered to myself at this. She would be in for quite a shock. My father had used the toilet first, and when my mother exited after him she kind of gestured with her body language that my sister and I could go in now. Kira continued to stubbornly wait for me, barely even acknowledging that the bathroom was open, and I was about to make her pay for it. “No thanks, Mom, I’m fine thank you. Kira might need it, however. It’ll be a long ride.” I batted my eyes in my sister’s direction as I said the last sentence. I could scarcely believe I’d laid out such a brazen, public challenge to her, especially about such a taboo topic, and I could feel my adrenaline pumping as we stared each other down. Kira paused for a few seconds, wide eyed from my display, but when she replied it was in an even, confident tone, “Oh, of course I’ll be fine. Let’s go!” My father let out a sigh of slight exasperation, perhaps thinking our egos were getting the better of us. But mother beamed with pride, maybe mixed with a bit of fear, but pride nonetheless, at the thought of her two girls being so strong. It looked like she was finally getting used to having two iron bladdered daughters instead of one. And so the four of us paraded out the door, left the hotel, hailed a cab, and reached the bus station by 9, Kira and I both with 10 hours of pee being stoically held by our strong sphincter muscles. After another half hour of wait, during which the four of us casually sipped from our water bottles, the bus arrived, so we piled on. We were in the back half of the bus, with maybe four rows of seats behind us. I sat at the window next to my mother, and on the other side of the aisle Kira sat with our father. The seating was random, but also, perhaps subconsciously, fitting. After all, by taking the window seats, Kira and I were restricting ourselves from having ease of access to the bus lavatory, since we would need to both ask permission and crawl over our parents to reach the loo. It was just subtle psychological warfare between the two of us. Even if this impromptu holding contest wasn’t taking place, both of us would still easily be able to wait for a rest stop. The bus left at 10 am sharp. It was nearly full. Unless people hadn’t filled out the back, only two seats were free from what I could see. And since I had no intention of going back to use the onboard facilities, I obviously had no reason to look to the rear of the bus. The first two hours of the trip passed uneventfully. Kira and I continued to take large gulps from our oversized water bottles while our parents nursed theirs at a much slower pace. By constantly peering over at each other to keep track of the other sister’s progress, we were able to polish off our waters almost simultaneously at 12 pm. Our first rest stop was in half an hour, and I was content to wait until then to refill my water. After all, already there was 1.5 liters of water sloshing through my stomach and making its way to my bladder on top of my morning pee. Such was the same for Kira, but as I snuck a glance at her I saw her make quick eye contact with me. Then she turned to our father and asked for his half full water bottle, claiming to be thirsty. Father gave her a look that seemed to say “Don’t be stupid”, but Kira returned fire with a condescending yet steely glare that meant “Do you realize who you’re talking to?” Father sighed and handed over the bottle. Kira was nice enough not to drain it, but by the time she’d finished sucking water from it, there had to be an 500 ml making its way towards her expanding bladder. Then she handed back the bottle and looked at me mockingly, daring me to do the same. Like I needed the invitation. “Mother, can I please have some of your water? I’m quite thirsty, and as you can see, mine is empty.” I pouted and shook my empty water bottle for effect. My mother’s face began to show fear. Try as she might, it seemed she was still having a hard time adjusting to my new status as “big bladdered daughter number two”. “Are you sure you want it?” she asked me in a low voice. We both knew I wasn’t thirsty and just wanted to prove a point, though I’m sure she didn’t realize the extent of Kira and my holding contest. “Yes,” I replied confidently, “I’m thirsty.” My mother stared at me for a few seconds, waiting for me to crack and take back my request. When I didn’t she sighed, tried to smile to herself a little, and handed over her water bottle. I did my best to drink a comparable amount to Kira, handed it back, and rested my head on the window, waiting for the rest stop. We ended up being late to the rest stop, arriving at 1 pm. I’d noticed my mother sitting rigidly as the clock passed 12:30, but she managed to call upon her reserves of bladder strength and wait. But she was up right away when we stopped, and I knew her bladder was bursting. I, on the other hand, felt comfortable despite 14 hours of pee sitting in my bloating bladder. Kira too gave no sign of needing relief at the stop, and so we both patiently waited our turn and exited the bus. I noticed, as we made our way inside the stop, which was basically a large food court, that Kira and I were the only two women to not immediately head to the restrooms. What I was sure of was that we were the only two that hadn’t gone that morning, as well as the only two with two liters of water coursing through their systems. I decided to take action. “Here, let me fill that back up for you, sis,” I said, grabbing her empty bottle and walking to the water fountain. She made no effort to stop me. Instead, I noticed an odd, thoughtful look on her visage, but dismissed it and began letting the water pour into the bottles, secretly imagining all of it pouring straight into my enormous bladder. I saw my lower stomach growing and growing in my head, and nearly lost myself in the fantasy. When I recovered, both water bottles were brimming with bladder torturing liquid. I took them and turned to find Kira, but my sister was right behind me already. She was holding up two half liter bottles of cranberry juice. “I’m tired of just water. I think we should mix things up,” she said with a mischievous grin, trading me one water bottle for one cranberry juice bottle, giving us both an additional two liters of fluid to suck down and hold on to. It was certainly a lot of liquid, but I didn’t flinch, accepting the bottle and following her back to the bus, having found no relief at the so-called rest stop. We sat back down in our respective seats and Kira instantly began sipping at her refilled water. Refusing to be outdone, I did the same, and by the time the bus was ready to leave, we had both drained another half liter each. Our parents were beside us again, so talk was kept to a minimum, but from the glances my mother was giving to both of us, it was clear she was having trouble reconciling her joy in our bathroom etiquette with her fear of us losing it on the bus. I just smiled wanly. By 2:30 I decided to crack open my cranberry juice. Personally I wasn’t a big fan of the stuff, finding it rather bitter. Before touching it to my lips, I thought back and remembered that Kira wasn’t much of a cranberry juice drinker either. So why now? On a whim I began to read the label, my eyes scrolling down through the listing of ingredients and nutrients. I was about to shrug and take a swig when I saw it. ‘Can act as a mild diuretic.’ Now I was intrigued. Why would Kira pick this drink in particular? Was it chance, or did she know of cranberry juice’s diuretic properties? And if she did, why would she get it, knowing full well that she would also have to endure the extra pee flooding into her well trained bladder? I sat and contemplated this, then came up with the answer. Kira was trying the same strategy she’d used the previous day. She was trying to push the liquids to a great degree, betting that her ability to wait at full capacity would outlast my own. Surely the way yesterday ended had given her hope for this strategy, as it was I who was the more obviously desperate of the two when we finally reached the hotel in the evening. I’m sure she figured if she kicked the fluids up one more notch with the diuretic-laden drink, I would have no choice but to fold. However, she had overlooked one very important point. I hadn’t nearly lost my load yesterday because of the large quantities of water I consumed in the afternoon, but rather due to the unbearable tightness of her tiny jeans shorts pressed right on my full bladder. With both of us clad in comfy sweatpants on the air conditioned bus, this would be a nonissue for me. I was determined to hold out, no matter the stakes. With a grin to myself, I threw back my head and consumed the entire bottle of cranberry juice at once, sighing loudly enough upon completion to alert Kira to what I had just done. Her eyes went wide for a moment when she saw the empty bottle in front of me, but then she began to snicker. She did not, as I had expected, instantly chug her bottle in return, instead merely popping off the cap and taking a single sip. I steeled myself. So that was her game. She was playing dirty now. If she kept up her current pace, her cranberry juice would take over an hour to be finished, while I was now fully laden with the diuretic laced juice. My bladder would end up being pumped with a larger quantity of pee than hers. I was slowly realizing that perhaps she wanted more than just to win a fair contest with me. Perhaps she wanted me to embarrass myself in front of my family, to piss myself in shame on the bus ride for even having the gall to challenge her in this endeavor. Well, if that was her game, I was more than willing to play it. Ii knew my abilities, and I reckoned I could still handle myself and my sure to be bulging bladder. It was 4 pm by the time Kira finished the last of her cranberry juice. With 17 hours separating her from her last trip to the toilet, she looked the picture of casual calm. Hands pressed into her lap, true, but I didn’t doubt that my iron bladdered sister still had plenty of room and will to hold on. On the outside I also appeared ok. Maybe I was a bit tenser than she, but only slightly. Well, there was one outward sign of my need to pee, if we’re being honest. My bladder had started ballooning around 3:30 and only recently stopped growing at such a quick rate. I was thankful that the cranberry juice wasn’t as bad as a full blown diuretic pill, otherwise I’d probably be nearing my limit. But as I gently palmed the lump that was even slightly visible under my sweatshirt, I knew the juice had still affected me. We had another rest stop at 4:30, this one lasting until 6 so that we could all eat a real dinner. Considering all my family had had by this point in the day was some random snacks on the bus, we were quite happy for the stop. Though part of me was disappointed that my increasing hunger would no longer be there in the pit of my stomach to distract me from the throb of my bladder. I stood carefully to follow my mother off the bus. I peeked to my right and saw Kira stand, wince, and put her legs closer together before gingerly exiting after me. The diuretic had finally started to hit her as well. She probably hadn’t realized how full she’d gotten until she stood up, whereas I was used to the increased pressure thanks to finishing my cranberry juice well before her. Of course, I knew my sister’s bladder was still plenty strong and figured she’d be able to rebound from this setback soon enough. I, on the other hand, would in all likelihood be faced with having to control a weakening sphincter muscle before she would, since I was facing the pressure for a longer period of time. That thought sent a chill up my spine, but my heart began to beat faster as I noted that it was a chill of pleasure, not fear. This rest stop, near the Texas-Oklahoma border, featured a sit down restaurant proclaiming itself to be “The last true Italian food before Oklahoma”. I tried to stifle a laugh at how absurd that sounded and entered the restaurant. Thankfully we were allowed to seat ourselves, meaning our parents could immediately scurry off to relieve themselves once more. That left Kira and I at the table. I could tell she was smoldering at my insistence to continue holding as long as she did. I had just turned my glance away from her when she piped up, “You’ll never manage to outhold me, you know.” My jaw dropped at my sister’s blatant acknowledgement of our contest. Even though it was clearly happening, it still took getting used to to be talking about it. Not waiting any longer for my reply, Kira continued, “You couldn’t beat me growing up and you certainly can’t now. I don’t know who you’re trying to impress. Mom KNOWS that I’m the bladder queen of this family, and that’s not changing no matter how much you try. I know you can’t hold as much as me, and I know you can’t hold as long as I can. Indra, you should just give up now and spare yourself the embarrassment of having to use the bus toilet.” It took me a moment to recover from her outburst, but I shot back, “Oh yeah? Well ever since I moved to Texas my bladder has been getting bigger and bigger. Throw all the tricks at me you want, I can hold it.” “Please,” Kira responded with a smirk, “You nearly lost it last night. Another hour of walking and you would have peed yourself. I would have been fine. In fact, I’m still fine, while you’re probably sitting over there with a bursting fanny.” The venom in her words jolted me. It made me realize just how much Kira valued having the biggest, strongest, longest lasting bladder in the family. But this knowledge didn’t make me take pity on her for even attempting to unseat her. It just made me want to push her, and me, further. I was busy thinking these thoughts and Kira became impatient. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself??” I gave her a blank stare as I asked her, “How far are you willing to go?” Before she could answer, I flagged down a passing waiter. “Two iced teas please.” The dinner was fantastic. I promised never to doubt the true Italian tastes of North Texas ever again as the final bite of pasta entered my mouth. Kira and I had both finished our iced teas within minutes of our parents returning from the restrooms, so of course that meant we needed refills. I figured that would be all the drinking we’d need for now, but Kira was intent on following through with her plan to drink me under the table. As our waiter collected our dirty plates, Kira motioned to him. “Sir? I’m ever so sorry to bother you, but would you mind topping off my water bottle?” Not waiting for a reply, Kira took out her water, still one liter full, and chugged down half of it. I could hear my mother audibly gulping as the waiter then filled it with a liter of water to make it full once more. All eyes turned to me, everyone knowing what was coming. Kira was mouthing “Give up Indra” over and over, but she wouldn’t be winning this contest this easily. I took out my own 1.5 liter bottle, pressed it to my lips and didn’t lower it until the water level was at the same spot it was in Kira’s bottle. “Mine as well please.” I gave the waiter my sweetest smile to make up for the fact that he had to go and get another pitcher before he could fulfill my request. After all, it isn’t often girls ask for an extra two liters of water after a meal with multiple iced teas each. Our parents rose from the table. It was nearly 6, so we needed to get back on the bus. My mother was sweating, caught between wanting to say something about the condition of her daughters’ bladders and being restricted by her culture and upbringing. Finally she squeaked out, “Are you girls ready to leave?” Kira and I briefly stared each other down. She was doing a pristine job of maintaining her composure and hiding her need, built up by 4.5 liters of drinks and nearly 19 hours since her last pee. Her hands were in her lap and her legs were crossed and jiggling slightly, but her face remained calm as she replied, “Oh mother, I’m as comfortable as ever. Let’s get back on that bus.” My mother turned her gaze to me. “Indra?” Despite the telltale ache my bladder was now experiencing, and I lieu of the fact that it was packed solid with piss, round and hard in my abdomen, I took no more than a second before answering, “Why, I’ve never felt better. To the bus!” I caught Kira’s face nearly snarling in my direction as we made our way back to finish our trip. The bus pulled back onto the road. We were right on schedule and were due to arrive in Oklahoma City at 9 pm sharp. By 7 pm I was regretting the fact that we didn’t take a higher quality bus, as my bladder was expanding to even greater proportions and I desperately wanted to be able to lie back and give it room, rather than having to stay crunched up in the tiny seat. And I could tell that Kira, for all her bluster and outward confidence, was also feeling the strain. She was sitting straight up, sometimes moving her legs up and down, sometimes banging her hand on her thighs to keep herself distracted, but never looking fully calm. Both of us, however, remained in control, leak free and in firm command of our sphincters. The bus drove on. As 7 pm turned to 8, my bladder swelled to the size of a small cantaloupe. Kira was shifting her legs uncomfortably in her seat, the pee pressure clearly getting to her. But my father made no move to let her up to get to the toilet, and in any case Kira wouldn’t have bothered. She was holding with determination, as she better have been after her harsh words at dinner. But I didn’t feel much better. I was reaching what I felt to be my maximum capacity, my bladder hurting more with every additional millimeter of bulging. Still, the two of us continued to assault our poor, aching sphincters by drinking from our water bottles. There was no more chugging, we were both too full for that, but every five minutes or so we would alternate moderate sips. There was no stopping our insane holding game. Our bladders would just have to enlarge further, hurt more, and stretch to contain what we demanded of them. It seemed defeat was not an option for either of us. My legs had begun to softly scissor inward and out. The desire to release was becoming too strong to ignore without movement, and even then it was eating away at my will. I saw Kira begin to bob her knees up and down and redoubled my holding efforts, knowing we were both feeling the same strain, determined not to crack first. Somehow, both of us played Russian roulette with our bladders and came away unscathed, as the bus rolled into its station in Oklahoma City at 8:45 and neither Kira nor I had suffered even the most remote of leakage. It was clear to anyone who looked upon us that we were two young adult girls in dire need of a bathroom break, wee bursting to escape, but still we suppressed our bodily urges. On shaky legs I rose to exit the bus, and Kira followed after cupping her expansive bladder with her hands. Once we were out it was merely a 10 minute walk to our hotel and the freedom our pent up pee was so desperately desiring. “Are you two ok?” our mother asked us as we began the short walk. I whispered out “Of course mother,” while Kira could only nod and grimace. A particularly hard bladder spasm was wracking her beautiful slim figure, and it was taking what appeared to be a great deal of concentration and muscle control to fight it off. The walk was slow going but Kira and I pushed ourselves to our limits in an effort to appear unaffected by the quantities of piss pushing us to release our bladders all over the sidewalk. Our hands curled into fists, we both forced our backs straight, wincing mightily as the urge to let loose our torrents doubled in intensity. We both sported large pudges growing over the waistbands of our sweatpants. Had we been wearing Kira’s tiny shorts from the previous day, we might have been done in, even with our massive resolve and bladders. But thankfully our bladders were able to stretch as much as necessary to contain our immense floods, if only just. Finally the hotel was in sight. Kira gasped as she held it in in the face of yet another bladder spasm. I was taking ever smaller steps as we entered the hotel lobby, shaking legs pressed together as discreetly as possible. We all approached the counter and my mother began the process of checking in for the night. I looked to my right and saw Kira fighting with everything she had to remain still in front of the hotel employee at the desk, and with a groan I followed her example. But the check in began to drag on, and after two minutes I heard Kira take a sharp intake of breath and begin to fidget, clearly willing herself not to grasp her crotch for everything she was worth. For a moment I felt superior. Then I noticed that I had been unconsciously wiggling my legs for the past minute. Both of us were gagging for a toilet, two desperate young women holding back 22 hours of pee in our overstretched piss containers. It had to come out soon, one way or another. We were both pee dancing on the spot. For the first time I noticed Kira give me a worried look. The iron bladder of the family herself was close to breaking. Then the clerk handed my mother two hotel room keys and we were off, all thoughts of wetting on the floor of the lobby forgotten for the both of us as we walked quickly to the elevator. The movement gave me back some semblance of control, however slight, and I felt that Kira got the same effect from it. In any case her constant hitching of breath as she fought through spasm after spasm had stopped. The elevator took us to the top floor, and we walked desperately down the entire hall before reaching our room door at the very end of it. Mother inserted her key card while I kept myself from spurting at the thought of being so near a bathroom at last. But as she turned the handle, a new thought struck me with horror. Who would go first? Surely it would have to be Kira, as in my intensely prideful state I felt I would rather wet than pee before her. But that meant I would have to hold on for at least 5 long, painful bladder busting minutes before getting the opportunity to gain my relief. I didn’t know if I could make it that long, not with the toilet so close, not while listening to Kira piss out Niagara Falls. With bated breath I entered. The room was huge. For a split second all thoughts of pee pain left my head as I marveled at the size of our hotel room. “Sorry it took so long,” my mother was saying beside me, though it was difficult to concentrate on her voice, “I had us upgraded to the suite.” Momentarily I wondered why my frugal, penny pinching mother would voluntarily pay more money for an albeit bigger room, but then all that went to the wayside as I saw another perk of the room size – it had two bathrooms. Instantly Kira hobbled into the bathroom nearest the hotel door, while I raced to the one on the far side of the room. I heard her door shut with a thud and mine followed seconds later. My sweatpants were somehow tight to my body, such was the distension of my bulging bladder. I yanked them down frantically, crossed my legs for one second to regain full control and admire the cannonball in my abdomen, and then rushed to the toilet. My gusher began as soon as I was seated. 22 hours of piss streamed out of me with crazy force. That damn cranberry juice had nearly done me in, heck it had nearly done in Kira, the mastermind herself, yet we both survived. I could hear Kira’s massive gush faintly through the door, but by bearing down even harder on my own stream I managed to drown it out. I had always been good at peeing with force once I’d become a competent holder, but my current flood outstripped even the ones I had made in the past few days. I was well and truly bursting. I wiped matted hair out of my face as my pee continued into its second minute unabated. My mind fought through wave after wave of pee pleasure to think about Kira and the ridiculous levels this challenge had now reached. 22 hours without a single pee break was crazy, even for a well-trained Indian girl such as her. Or such as me. I wasn’t sure if we could push the limits any further to really find a winner in this contest of bladder capacity. Even with a milk diuretic we both lasted a full day. With despair I noted that this trip would be over soon. We had another bus ride to Albaquerque tomorrow, and the next morning we’d be heading to the Albaquerque airport, where my mother, father, and Kira would fly back to India and I would fly back to Houston. I didn’t think there was enough time left to resolve things, one way or another. Even as my pee began to slow down in its fourth minute, I sat and pondered the fact that Kira and I were seemingly too good at holding it to decide upon a winner. My trickle finally ground to a halt seconds before the fifth minute began, and when it did I suddenly got one last, risky plan. It was ridiculous, so much in fact that I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it, let alone Kira. But dammit, at the risk of total embarrassment, of biting off way more than I could chew, and of pushing my bladder into very uncharted waters, I promised myself I would see it through to the end, for better or worse. And besides, my plan was crazy enough that it just might work, and that was enough for me. With a jolt I heard my father banging on the bathroom door, and I surmised that I’d been inside for an additional five minutes, going through my desperate plan over and over. Haphazardly, I apologized, rinsed my hands, and exited. My father gruffly entered, and I found myself alone in what appeared to be a combination bedroom and living room with one gigantic bed. I saw the other bathroom door was still shut, and I guessed that my mom was inside it, but then where was Kira? I turned all the way around and noted a door I hadn’t seen before in my rush for a toilet, hidden away just to the right of the bathroom that I had used. I turned the handle, opened it, went inside, and came face to face with two more beds, these ones smaller but still impressive. Kira was busy making hers, her back to me. Sensing my presence, she said to me, without looking over her shoulder, “You know this is hopeless, right? Try it again tomorrow for all I care. I’m used to this. I’ll last longer on my shortest hold than you ever could on your longest. Face it sis, I’ve got the iron bladder, and you…well you just don’t, ok? It doesn’t make you less of a woman, well, TOO much less of a woman, it just makes you like everyone else.” My eyes blazed like fire for a moment at her words, but then I lay into the bed opposite Kira’s and became unspeakably tired. All the holding of the past day had worn me out. All I mustered in reply was, “You’ll have to try harder than this,” before my heavy eye lids shut themselves. And as I began drifting off to sleep, I made one final revelation. Our mother said she had purposely upgraded us to the suite. Now I knew why. She knew how close Kira and I’s bladders were to their breaking points when we reached the hotel, and she didn’t want one of us to have to disgrace ourselves waiting for the toilet in the room. So she’d gotten us the largest room, the only one in the hotel with multiple bathrooms, to save us from ourselves. The last words on my lips before the sandman took his nightly hold of me were “I don’t want to be saved.” Day 4 I awoke to the sound of Kira getting dressed. In preparation for the bus ride to come, she had once again opted for sweatpants and a large t-shirt. Instinctively my hands reached for my bladder, and I was pleased to discover a small hardness, but nothing more. I was relieved that the cranberry juice from the day before hadn’t continued to work on my kidneys through the night. I’d need every bit of bladder capacity I could muster for what lay ahead. I clenched my sphincter a few times, testing it, and was delighted by the results. I was able to clamp down as hard as ever, my bladder showing basically no ill effects from the previous day’s bursting hold. This was good. This gave me a chance. Kira noticed that I was awake, and instantly her trash talk from the last night continued. “Aww, finally awake there Indra? Did that long hold tire you out? I still haven’t taken a pee this morning, and isn’t that your big bad plan? Get Kira to skip her morning pee, because obviously that worked out so well for you yesterday.” All I had time for was, “Don’t’ go before we leave,” before she cut me off and continued, “Of course I won’t go before we leave. If you wanna lose the hard way, so be it. But do you actually think skipping my morning pee is anything new or difficult for me? Back when I was a senior in high school, I didn’t take a morning pee for 8 months, from day one until graduation. I got my diploma with a darn fuller bladder than you had at yours. I’ve done this more than you know, and when I go back to India I guarantee you, Indra, that I’ll still be the owner of the biggest, strongest, and best bladder in this family.” I began getting dressed as she finished her rant. My normally composed sister was anything but. I knew I was in for a serious fight now that I was encroaching on her territory, staking my name to her big bladdered crown, but I had never been more prepared, both mentally and physically, for anything in my entire life. That much I knew. “We’ll find out if you’re right,” was all I said as I readied myself to leave the room. Kira could only huff and follow. The clock on the far wall of the main room read 7:30. I was surprised it was so early, but then again I had crashed to sleep as soon as we had gotten in and my pressing pee had gotten out, so I was certainly well rested. Our parents were already getting their things in order, and by 7:45 we were ready to leave the hotel. Our bus didn’t depart until noon, so we had some time to relax and see the sights of Oklahoma City. Both of them popped into the separate bathroom stalls for one final pee, and when they exited my mother wore that look of agitation mixed with pride that I was getting to know so well. She gave a half gesture to Kira and I in the direction of the open bathroom doors, and without even a glance at each other we both shook our heads. The battle was well and truly on. Mother almost gave a grimace, sighed to herself after a brief pause, then spoke, “Forgive me, girls. I should remember how grown up you both are.” She emphasized the word ‘both’, which brought a wry smile to my lips. ‘If you only knew how grown up we were going to prove ourselves to be before this trip ends,’ I thought to myself. Then we were out the door, checked out of the hotel, and on our way to the center of the city, and already nearly 11 hours separated Kira and I from our last lavatory visits. We found out one thing in the four hours we had to kill – Oklahoma City is a boring place. Maybe it was just that my focus was on other, more exciting things, but the time seemed to drag. Kira and I each emptied our water bottles and refilled them, along with consuming a cup of coffee and a glass of juice each at breakfast. The additional liquids bothered us not. By this point in the journey, we both knew the other possessed some serious holding power. Finally the time came to board the bus. We had reached the station a bit early to give our parents a chance to pee one last time before the ride. Kira and I simply waited outside the restrooms for them. The station was packed and the flow of women in and out of the ladies’ room was constant. As the two of us stood outside it, regarding ourselves as above needing the relief it offered, we overheard one skinny blonde, probably in her mid 30s, say to a man I presumed was her husband, “Look at those girls. Over there. Girls these days think they all have bladders of steel. I guarantee you they’ll regret just standing there in two hours time.” The man just nodded. Kira gave her sassy smirk, while I chuckled to myself. We might end up regretting it, but it would definitely take longer than two hours. This became funnier to me when I considered that it had already been nearly 15 hours since we’d last gotten relief. Despite the crush of people, the four of us found ourselves among the first ones on our bus. Kira gave me a look, then announced to my parents, “Indra and I are gonna take the seats in the back.” They nodded dumbly, as did I, surprised my sister wanted to sit with me but not really feeling unhappy about it. When we reached the seats I quickly realized the psychological ploy Kira was going for. These seats were positioned right next to the bus’s onboard lavatory, meaning that not only would we both constantly be afforded a reminder of our plight as well as an easy way to end our bladder pain, but we’d have to listen to the continuous trickle of passengers emptying their bladders while ours stayed full. Without missing a beat, Kira took the window seat, mentioning with an airy casualness, “I’ll sit here, so you don’t have to climb over me to pee. I, of course, will not be needing to do that on this bus. I can hold it. In fact, I can hold it even though it’s been over half a day since I wasn’t holding it. Grown women can do that, you know.” “I know how long it’s been, sister. And it’ll be much longer before I’ll have to do such an unwomanly thing as relieve myself, so I hope you’re in it for the long haul.” I sat down next to her after finishing my retort, legs intentionally open to show the ease of my current sublime bladder control. Inwardly I was proud of my response. I’d always wanted to be able to say things like that, just as Kira did, to offhandedly brag about my holding capacity, but until recently my bladder had never been big enough to actually allow me to do so. While I clearly needed practice, I thought I was getting better. The bus left at 12:10, maneuvering through the city streets and quickly joining up with the highway. The late start was attributed to the fact that this bus was jam packed with people, and many of them had decided to be stragglers. They clearly hadn’t expected such a crowded bus station to walk through, or perhaps they didn’t think the lines for the restrooms would be quiiite as long as they were. I smiled to myself at the knowledge that that was never a problem for me anymore. Within the first half hour of the ride a woman of perhaps 45 cursed, “Oh, blast it!” and rose from her seat. She hobbled down the aisle, keeping one hand on her thigh, mere inches from her crotch. With some manner of franticness she opened the bus bathroom stall and entered. Kira and I, being situated so close to the bathroom, could easily hear the woman’s stream, which started out impressively before dying down into a normal 30 second pee. “Not even enough to put a dent into my bladder.” I heard myself say as she returned to her seat. I was a bit surprised to be talking about someone else’s bladder in public like that, especially so brazenly, but I found that I quite liked hearing the words come off my tongue. Kira gave a short laugh and responded, “She could pee ten times before I’d have to go once.” By 1 pm I noticed that neither Kira nor I had consumed more than some token sips from our 1.5 liter water bottles. Feeling that my bladder was still quite in control, I decided to make up a game to increase our intake and, over the long term, decrease that very control we both coveted so highly. “Hey sis, how about a drinking game,” I suggested. Kira snapped to a half-hearted attention, moving her eyes from the window to me. “What do you have in mind?” she asked lazily. She asked it in the way one does when regarding a child’s poorly thought out request and not having the patience to give it some fake enthusiasm. Undeterred, I continued, “I’ll bet you that my side of the bus (I gestured to all the seats on the right half of the aisle) has better bladder control than your side (I motioned to everyone left of the aisle). We’ll keep track. Every time someone from my half goes to the bathroom, I’ll take a big drink of water, and every time someone from your half goes, you drink.” Kira’s eyes lit up at the idea, though she did her best to put on a bored face as she replied, “Well, ok, it’ll get me through this bus ride at least. But when you forfeit and pee, you still count for your side, so I expect you to drink when you come back.” I just smiled, “Deal.” By 3 pm it was clear that, despite her best efforts, my sister couldn’t keep from showing her excitement at my game. Her competitive nature had taken over, combined with her obsession to have a larger bladder than all those around her. Another person, this time a teenage girl who couldn’t possibly have been older than me, left her seat and went towards the lavatory. Kira fist pumped. I sighed. The girl was on my side. I would have to drink. I swigged from my water bottle, noting how much lighter it was now than when we’d begun this game. I reckoned I had already consumed a liter of it, while Kira had probably had no more than a third of that. Setting down my bottle, I turned to her as she began her trash talk, “Damn, Indra, this this was a better idea than I gave you credit for. You’re gonna lose both your pee and the game before the first rest stop, and I didn’t even have to do a thing to goad you on!” We both knew she was exaggerating. After the last few days together Kira had to know I wouldn’t break so easily. Still, there was no doubt as I felt the fullness of my abdomen that I was in worse shape than her. She was still as jovial as ever, even with 18 hours of pee sitting in her gigantic bladder. My spur of the moment idea was backfiring in my face. Suddenly, in the next ten minutes my luck changed. A parade of people began to filter in and out of the onboard toilet, and all of them were from Kira’s side! My sister began grumbling about how stupid of a game this really was as she was forced to chug her drink until it was level with mine. Still, she did no more than cross her legs until we pulled into our rest stop at 4 pm. With 19 hours of pee in our bladders, Kira and I ignored the women’s toilets and headed straight for the water fountains. As soon as we had refilled our giant water bottles, Kira noticed something. Nearly everyone on our bus had entered the restrooms. “How do you wanna factor that into our game?” I asked. Kira shrugged and turned her newly full bottle to her lips, her throat working overtime to swallow as much as possible. I followed her lead, the two of us chugging and keeping eye contact, determined not to quit before the other. 45 seconds later, we both succeeded. Our stomachs were heavy and waterlogged, but the 1.5 liter bottles were empty again. We couldn’t have that, obviously, so we filled them up one more time, grabbed some food to eat on the bus, and returned to our seats, both knowing our bladders would soon be feeling the effects of that rash decision. Time seemed to pass more slowly after the rest stop. Kira was still giving me the occasional comment about her bladder’s infinite strength relative to mine, but for the most part we sat in near silence, both waiting for our bladders to reach their bursting points. The two of us sat next to the bathroom, both needing it badly but neither giving in. Our abdomens were bulged out far past anything that could be considered normal, yet there we sat, pretending we hadn’t a care in the world. And besides our crossed legs and sometimes strained facial expressions, one could have still looked at us and not known we were bursting of the pot. Thankfully our game had slowed down as well, with so many people having relieved themselves at the stop. Over the final couple of hours of the ride, Kira and I did our best to remain unmoving, unchanging against the ever increasing tides lapping against our bladder walls. Our piss tanks continued to swell, to the point that we now both looked positively massive in that region. Kira squirmed in her seat every now and then, while I was busy doing Kegals to remain in firm control of the river I was containing. We’d both ended up consuming an additional liter of water each in the course of playing our bus bathroom game, and I could tell from the look in Kira’s eyes on her last few drinks that she didn’t know where she was going to be able to put this excess liquid. With no diuretic hampering me this time, I knew I’d be good to last to our hotel, even if it was a struggle. And at 9 pm, exactly 24 long, arduous hours since either of us had felt any relief, the bus pulled into the Albaquerque bus station. Kira and I took one last, longing look at the bus toilet before exiting gingerly to the sidewalk. We met up with our parents and decided to hail a cab to our hotel. I could see mother giving note to our heavily swollen abdomens and our feeble attempts to stand straight while walking, but she said nothing as we entered the cab. 15 minutes later we were in the hotel. Thankfully, despite our bursting conditions, Kira and I both showed much more self-control in the lobby this time around. We looked around with nonchalance, only giving away the severity of our bladder agony by placing our hands protectively under our giant, fragile bulges and perhaps clicking our heels and moving our feet a bit much for girls who only had to wait at check-in for a minute or two. Realizing we had much better control of ourselves on this night, our mother opted for the usual small, one bathroom hotel room. On legs that were just beginning to get shaky, Kira and I walked into our room. Both of us sat defiantly on our bed, neither making a move for the toilet. Our parents both paused briefly to give us a chance to change our minds, but when we continued to sit, my mother darted in to relieve herself. Father followed, but Kira and I did not. After unpacking a little, our father ordered the family some food to be delivered, then sat and turned on the TV to watch with mother. Kira and I made as if we were also paying attention to the screen, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Our bladders were like bowling balls in our stomachs, and keeping them full and intact was all either of us cared about at the moment. The food arrived and we all ate, then my parents retired to bed, done in from the constant traveling, after one final look from my mother to her badly bursting, nearly exploding daughters. I saw the clock once the snores began to rise from my parent’s bed, and it said 10 pm. 25 hours had now passed since Kira or I had even seen the inside of a bathroom, let alone use a toilet. It was like we were trying to live without admitting that a need to pee is a need that everyone, even well-trained girls with enormous bladders, must give in to eventually. Kira also noticed that our parents were asleep, so she was able to speak about our conditions freely, “Ok, admit it, Indra, you’ve failed. Once again, you only ended up holding as long as I have. You can’t last any longer, I mean really, look at that melon you’ve got in your gut! I know you have to let it out. It’s been over a day now. Why don’t you just admit you can’t defeat me, take a piss, let me take my piss, and we can go to sleep? I can go on being the iron bladder of this family, and you can go on being second best.” At this I smiled. “What’s so funny?!” Kira asked, louder than she intended due to her state of bladder distress. “This waiting game isn’t over yet,” I said to her, my eyes twinkling. “What are you talking about?” Kira questioned, “It’s been (she swiveled to look at the clock)….25 hours since we’ve peed! What do you mean it’s not over? We’re here, we’re in our hotel room. Of course it’s over. It’s just a question of who goes first. And that’s you. A tie always goes to the champion, and I most certainly am the bladder champion around here.” My grin grew wider, “Well, Kira, I’m not going. I don’t care how big the lump in my abdomen gets, I’m not gonna pee tonight.” Now Kira’s eyes got wide as she understood what I was saying. “You mean…” she started, before I cut her off, “That’s right. If you want to give in and pee now, surrendering your title, that’s fine. Be my guest. But not a drop is coming out of me until tomorrow.” Kira’s voice cracked as she responded, “You’ll never make it! You’ll wet yourself in your sleep and disgrace the entire family! What will mom and dad say after that??” “I can do it,” I told her, “and I’m going to. I’ve slept full before and I can do it again. So go, pee if you must, but that makes me the winner.” Kira was silent for a few seconds, clearly raging on the inside. She was now fighting both her incessant urge to pee and the idea of coping with a new challenge. My sister’s sights had been set on relief once we entered the hotel room, but from last night onward I knew the only way to win this would be to forgo my evening pee on this night, even if I was already 25 hours full. Finally Kira broke her silence. “Alright,” she almost spat the words at me, “I can go to bed without a pee too. It’s no problem for me, really. You’ll see. You’ll end up with a nice big wet patch under you while my side of this bed will be bone dry!” I smiled and nodded with fake good-naturedness, then got under the covers and prepared myself for sleep, bursting bladder and all. Kira grumbled, grumbled some more, hemmed, hawed, and finally got into bed with me. Her legs were moving restlessly as she fought with her sphincter to remain in control of the mass of water she was holding. My own need was something more than a pleasurable ache, but I hadn’t been lying when I said I’d managed to sleep full before. I had done that many times in Houston. I just hadn’t been this full. Or full for this long. But I was prepared to risk it all, and this was certainly a heck of a risk to take. Slowly, it took perhaps a half an hour, my mind drifted off to sleep, even as my pee raged inside my bladder. My last conscious thought was that I could still hear rustling in the sheets beside me. Kira was still having problems. Day 5 I awoke with a jolt at 7 am the next morning. Immediately I had to reach down and clutch my crotch for all I was worth. My bladder was like a boulder in my abdomen, round, hard, and aching. I knew at once that I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. I also knew that making it through the night dry had been a close thing. My piss holder was nearly ripping apart at the seams, and it was taking me some time to get used to this massive increase in pressure. It was easily the worst I’d had to go on this entire trip, which made sense, as I hadn’t been to a toilet for 34 hours now. I turned over, hands still on my vagina, and saw that Kira was awake as well. And just like the previous night, her legs were still restless, moving up and down, back and forth, with pretty good speed. It was clear she was desperate to relieve herself, just like I was. “Congrats,” I croaked in a whisper. Our parents were also waking, and I didn’t want them to catch wind of our conversation. Kira rolled over, face grimacing in exhaustion and agony, and replied sleepily, “For what, you sadist?” I managed a small grin. “I didn’t think you’d last the night, Kira.” For a moment all signs of sleepiness left her visage, replaced by pure rage. “Oh, you! I’ll never be outheld by you! Now go and take a piss! I’m positively bursting! I barely got any sleep thanks to this awful balloon in my gut. Do you know you long it’s been since either of us peed?? Give this up!” I shushed her, trying to make sure our parents didn’t hear anything, before telling her, “I’m not giving up yet.” With that, I sat up (slowly, mind you. My bladder was nearly the size of a watermelon!) and began getting my stuff together for the trip to the airport. Kira could only glare from the bed. The four of us prepared our things to leave. Kira and I could hardly keep still as we packed, pee dancing with increasing franticness as the urge to pee threatened to overwhelm us. Our bladders were rock-solid, adding untold inches to our waistlines. Once, around 7:45, Kira had whispered desperately to me, “No bladder, however big, is meant to contain this much piss! Go and let it out!” At the thought of release, my bladder cramped urgently, and I had to stop and nearly drop to my knees to fight the spasm down, but still I refused to quit. Kira moaned at me and shoved a hand in her crotch briefly. Our parents had noticed our desperation, but it wasn’t until 8 am, when we were ready to leave, that my mother truly realized how badly we had to go. Both mother and father had just returned from the bathroom, and as our mother looked us up and down she realized that, not only were we pee dancing on the spot, but our tight t-shirts and sweatpants were doing nothing to hide the insane bulges we were sporting. Our 35 hours worth of pee had swelled our abdomens out to ridiculous degrees. “Girls! What are you doing?? You’re both clearly masters of controlling yourselves, but for goodness sake you can’t expect to go out like that! Not all the way to the airport!” She turned to me, “Indra, dear Indra, please, I have kept my mouth shut for all this time, but please, go and make yourself comfortable again.” She pointed towards the open bathroom door, but I held my ground and my urine. After ten seconds our mother went to Kira, “Kira! How about you? You’ve always been strong, but show some sense!” But my sister’s face was a mask of determination, even moreso than mine. “If Indra doesn’t need it, then I am certainly comfortable enough to get to the airport.” She replied icily. My mother looked to our father in a last ditch effort, but he could only shrug and say, “If they say they’re fine, then let’s go. What are we waiting for?” And so, with half our number in an extreme state of desperation, we all made our way out of the hotel and hailed a cab. It was only I that noticed Kira’s last, longing glance at our hotel room’s toilet before the door swung shut. The ride to the airport was quiet. Kira and I were much too focused on keeping our pee from busting out of ourselves to make small talk, and I think my mother way in a state of shock over the whole thing. By 8:30 we were at the airport. Thank goodness there was no line to check in for our flight, because if Kira and I had had to stand still for a prolonged period of time, that might have been the end of things. As it was, we were able to move around the desk area, squirming, fidgeting, and trying our hardest to pass off our intense desperation as excitement for our flights to the airport employees surrounding us. After checking our luggage and beginning the walk to our gate, I saw Kira’s eyes looking everywhere for a restroom sign. She even had to hold herself while walking now. I knew she was close. Heck, I was close myself, as a quick series of bladder spasms reminded me. I stopped for a moment, legs turned inward, hands on my thighs, squeezing with everything I had. I had shut my eyes to concentrate better, and when I opened them, I saw both my parents were staring at me. Kira was not. She was too close to having her own urinary disaster, and was concentrating on nothing but remaining dry a little longer. I waved my hands to my parents as if to say, “Ah well, it happens,” and we continued on. Going through airport security may have been the hardest thing we’d had to do yet, but with unmatched resolve and willpower, Kira and I both managed to put our hands to our sides and walk normally past the airport security guards. Our desperation was reaching new and unforeseen levels, levels I didn’t even know could be reached by a girl’s bladder. When we got to my family’s gate, my bladder was in a constant state of spasm. I clenched with everything I had, using nearly all the sphincter strength I had left, and managed somehow to calm my pee urgency down to the point where I could function, if not well. Kira, on the other hand, was at the end of her rope. Pacing, nearly marching on the spot, she enthusiastically waved her arms in the direction of a women’s restroom sign. “Indra! Look! A bathroom! Go there! Please, please, go there!” My sister’s control was mighty, prodigious even, but it seemed her ponderous load of pee was finally getting to her. I gave my phone a quick check and saw that it was now nearly 10 am. It had been nearly 37 hours since either of us had let a single drop out of our stretched, tortured bladders. Smiling wide, I shook my head at my poor, desperate sister, relishing the fact that I was still in control while she was finally losing hers. It was the first time I had ever had the upper hand in this matter, and I was savoring it. “Kira, you should go,” I told her with an air of superiority, “Your belly looks ridiculous. You’re gonna pee yourself.” Kira’s eyes were fearful and she nearly shouted back at me, in total denial, “No, no, no, I’m the bladder queen of the family! I never have to go before you! I can wait as long as you can! If you haven’t gone yet, I won’t!” She said these words even as her bladder bulged ominously, as her sphincter tired itself out, as she slowly but surely came to grips with the fact that her enormous bladder was in a fight it couldn’t win. “Now boarding, Gate 72A!” The announcement came over the loudspeaker of the gate, our gate. As the clock struck 10 am, it was time for my mother, father, and Kira to go back to India. My flight left at 10:30 am, giving me just enough time to see them off and rush to my own gate. My parents were shooting looks of horror back and forth as they regarded their pee dancing daughters. The time when we were in firm control of ourselves seemed a distant memory. Now we could be mistaken for school girls with teacup-sized bladders…unless someone actually looked at our amazing bladder protrusions. Neither of us would have fit in anything but the stretchy sweatpants we were wearing. I hugged my mother goodbye gingerly, then the same with my father, being careful not to bump my round bulge against them. One wrong move and it could be all over. Kira was last, and I could tell it was taking every last ounce of energy and willpower she had to stay in place and hug me. I pulled her close, then whispered in her ear, “I’m not going to pee. I’m going to board my plane to Houston without going. The only way to outlast me is to get onto that plane, sit in the seat, strap that seatbelt over your bladder, and keep holding all the way back to India.” With a desperate shout, Kira pushed me away. One hand was clutching her crotch in a death grip, the other was holding her face. I saw that she was near tears, hair flying all over her face, panic in her eyes. Her legs were scissoring back and forth at a rapid rate even as she stood, but it was no good. Her final sphincter clenches were not enough. After all this, I had come to learn what it took to defeat Kira’s monstrous bladder: 38 hours, half a lake of drinks, and the prospect of holding on for hours and hours to come. It was too much for her, and Kira’s iron bladder began to rebel before my very eyes. Her strong, perfectly-trained dam of a sphincter started cracking, as I saw first one rivulet of wetness snake down her sweatpants, then another, then another, before she cut it off, breathing deeply. “I can hold it….I won’t lose…I can hold it…I…I…It’s coming out!” Kira’s bladder suddenly exploded, gushing piss everywhere. The floor was drenched and her sweatpants were waterlogged in seconds. With a shout of despair, Kira began half-running half-hobbling to the women’s restroom she had so astutely pointed out to me minutes before. The battle was over. I had won. I grinned, reveling in my victory, my bladder pain momentarily forgotten. My mother looked me in the face, saying, “Ok, Indra. You did it. You can go now.” But I looked back with a sparkle in my eyes and replied, “Oh mother, I don’t have to go. I’m a grown woman after all. I can hold it.” With that, I turned on my heel and headed for my gate. As I walked away, I knew that, despite everything she had said, my mother had never been prouder of me. Epilogue I strode onto my plane and took my seat next to an attractive guy who seemed about my age. For the first half hour of the two hour flight we made very little conversation. The adrenaline had worn off from my victory over my former bladder queen of a sister, and the intensity of my urge to pee seemed to be tripling. I was hell bent on lasting the flight, however, and ended up squirming in my seat to stay in command of my load of piss. The boy, Ryan was his name, glanced over at me as I wriggled. “Do you have to go too? I can get up if you’d like,” he offered. I smiled wanly, “No thank you. I’m actually quite capable of waiting, thank you very mu….did you say you had to go too? Why not go? You have the outside seat. The lavatory is open. I can see the sign.” He gave me a slight laugh and his cheeks reddened, but after a half minute of silence he lifted his shirt, showing me what was obviously a stretched and aching bladder, and replied, “What the hell, I’m never gonna see you again after this, so if you must know I’m testing myself. I haven’t gone in a very long time. It’s actually been 24 hours. I don’t want to go until I can’t wait anymore.” My jaw nearly dropped off of my face, and I had to jam both fists into my crotch to stave off my hardest bladder spasm yet. Finally I managed to tell him, “I haven’t gone in almost 40.” It was his turn to stare at me in amazement, and his gaze instantly turned downwards to my incredible bulging bladder. “That’s amazing…” he breathed. We spent the remainder of the flight aiding each other in coping with our piss struggles. I had originally planned on peeing at the airport bathroom in Houston, but found resolve I didn’t know was possible to have now that I had a partner in pee holding. As we got our luggage I could tell Ryan was on the verge of losing control, even moreso than I was. But I wanted to prevent him from darting off to the airport bathrooms, as I saw his eyes flick that way more than once. So I invited him to my place. He was unsure, clearly going out of his mind with desperation, but then I took his hand, placed it ever so gently on my rock-hard bladder, and told him, “You can watch me pee.” Without another word we collected our bags, hailed a taxi, and desperately shuffled into my apartment at 1 pm. I was sure we were going to explode the minute we were in the door, but instead I found myself overcome with horniness at the thought of our predicament and instantly wrapped him up in my arms and started forcefully making out with him, even as our aching bladders tried to forcefully spew out our loads of pent up pee. We resisted the call of nature for another hour, hands roaming each others’ bodies but staying mostly on the other’s massive bladder. We moaned, crossed our legs, danced while holding each other, squatted down low, and did everything we could think of to last. I even tortured myself further by downing a glass of water while he looked on in amazement. But finally we were well and truly at our limits. The pee had to come out, and after 41 hours of pristine control my sphincter finally couldn’t clench hard enough to keep the oncoming spurts back. In total desperation I rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the measuring jug I used for just such occasions, convinced that this had to be some sort of holding record for myself. When I returned to the living room, Ryan had his hand clenched over his bare penis. “If I let go it’ll all come out!” he cried desperately, so I did what any good, true lady would in this situation. I let him go first. With the last of my power I clutched myself and held on as he pissed long and loud into the giant jug. After 3 minutes his pee ended with 2200 ml in the jug. I was very impressed, because that was not a total I was used to beating often. But today I felt as if an entire lake was residing in my enormous, hurting bladder, and after dumping his load out in the toilet, I squatted over the bowl, ripped down my sweatpants, and finally let loose. The pleasure of this piss was out of this world, and I nearly lost myself in it as the pee poured out of me. I was like a tap turned on full, and it felt as though I would never stop. Ryan’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he gaped at my naked pussy unleashing a river into the filling jug. This pee took over 5 minutes of forceful peeing to finish, but when it did I proudly lifted the jug and showed him that 2700 ml was residing in it. It was a total I was sure my sister Kira, even with her amazing bladder capacity, had never bested, and I knew that I was now the true Bladder Queen in the family. And from the look I detected in Ryan’s eyes as I breathed in relief, this Bladder Queen wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight.
  14. I have a question. I've notice bladder bulges appears on average sized people. But I've always wondered does bladder bulges also appear on overweight people as well? (I know it appears on me somewhat). and is it or can it be noticeable for other people? Note: I hope this question doesn't offend anybody.If it does, then I am sorry. As that wasn't my intention.
  15. Anti-SJW {211}

    What brought me here.

    I've only been to one actual 'party', though it wasn't a big one. Just a bit of an invitation to one of Revianne's friends' parties, one which was supposed to be for the end of the school year or whatever. Revianne, or Revy, was a friend of mine until the end of May. She is a little taller than myself { This was because she always wore high heels }, has shoulder-length black hair, and always looks very nice. She was, and still is, dating a girl named Alexa, whom I had first met there. She is shorter, has blonde hair which reaches about halfway down her back, and is also quite beautiful. She seems a nicer person than Revianne as well, though I never said that out loud. At this point, I had no idea what omorashi was, I didn't know the word, or that there was any sort of fetish about it. Though, I knew what a bulging bladder was, and what it meant, because Revy had visited me at my home several times, and she has an issue using other peoples' toilets - also likes to drink a lot of water and juice { I'm sure most of the times she left my place were because she needed the restroom very badly, as she had never stayed late }, it wasn't hard to put two and two together when you know how people act when they need to pee. So I decided I would go, only to meet Revy's girlfriend, because it was somewhat of a special occasion and she wanted to meet me as well. I showed up, and we seemed to talk for hours. What started as a conversation about Stargate { Which I know little about } ended up as what may or may not me in a fictional version of Area 51. Throughout the night they went through a lot of drinks, Revy enjoyed mostly water, and Alexa was into the soda and fruit punch. It was all going smooth, I didn't suspect much, even when I saw Alexa squirming around, I figured it had to do with the very odd selections of music they played. After a while, Revy said she had to pee, but she didn't really do anything about it. Right after she said it, she took a sip of her water. We talked for another while, I was definitely lost in time, as I was having a great time with it. Soon, though, Alexa got up and frantically joined the queue, she looked like she could barely hold on. It was perhaps the first time I had ever seen a desperation dance, and she looked absolutely afraid that she wouldn't make it. I kept looking over at her, I wasn't sure what I was feeling at the time, I wasn't too familiar with the moves she was making, but I liked the thought of it. Revy seemed a little squirmy as well, but I payed little attention to her, unfortunately. After a short time, Alexa, who was still waiting in the line, let out a gasp of sorts, and her light blue jeans began to wet a little. At first, it was just quite an obvious, yet sort of small wet patch. She held herself and struggled again for a minute or less, and again lost all control. She started to wet again, I could slightly hear the noise over the song which was playing { Loud enough to really irritate me for some reason I still don't know... } and her jeans were quickly becoming more and more wet. It seemed like she went on for an eternity, though maybe that was just my mind taking it all in. All eyes were focused on her, some people seemed to be laughing, so I wasn't singled out or anything, but I saw in great detail the entire incident. The large puddle in the carpet was definitely noticeable, the fabric had completely changed from a light pink to a very dark pink. I noticed that my heartbeat was a little quick, and I heard Alexa crying. Revy immediately rushed to her side and guided her out of the building. While Revy was doing so, one could easily see that her lower abdomen was distended, it definitely wasn't the normal look for her, as her stomach is usually quite on the flatter side { If that's the right way to put it }. Anyway, it was obvious. And I knew that I had seen it before, and I was sure that Alexa's abdomen was distended somewhat before she had her accident. Later that week, I went to my trusted site, Wikipedia. I learned about the word Urolagnia, and not long after, Omorashi. I thought about it for a moment, read a little on Wikipedia, then thinking I could find more, I typed 'Omorashi' in the Google search bar, and here I was, at this site, conveniently shortly after I became eighteen. I had thought about the accident many times after that, and remembered some past experiences, there were more than just that. Though, that's for another day. Cheers! -Norton
  16. That's right, Truck Simulator fanfiction. This is what we've come to. The vast majority of people are neither obsessed or perverted enough to combine simulation gaming and pee – I am not one of those people. After I started playing American Truck Sim when it came out a few days ago, much like everything else I play or watch, it didn't take me very long at all to start thinking about piss. This is the shortest, simplest story I've ever written, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. This is Jessica: Unlike most girls, she had been interested in trucks from a very young age. The idea that something with enough power to pull entire houses could possibly exist in this world was absolutely fascinating to her. In her elementary school library, while the other girls were fawning over books featuring puppies and horses, she buried herself in material such as Tonka: Big Book of Trucks. By middle school, she had advanced to actual truck manuals and books on state laws and guidelines for truckers. In high school, she already had two fast food jobs to save for her own truck one day. In college, her dream was on the verge of coming true when she found work as a local Post Office driver. Two years ago, at the age of twenty-four, she purchased her truck – A Peterbilt 579 with sleeper cabin. After three months of training, she finally began to receive offers as a freelance driver. Today, at the age of twenty-six, she was a confident trucker with countless successful deliveries under her belt. The job was certainly a boy's club, she had never even met another female driver personally. Her feminine appearance and demeanor made her particularly unusual, and while it was a lot of work, she had proven herself to the men who worked with her. She had adapted for the job, and she felt herself equal to any other trucker. In the beginning, her only real issue was what to do if she found herself in need of a toilet while on a delivery. She operated throughout California and Nevada, both of which featured many long spans of empty road with nowhere to stop. The logical thing would be simply to pull over and pee beside the truck, but the paranoia of a motorist or, much worse, a police officer seeing what she was doing stopped this train of thought in its tracks even though the chances of getting passed during a single stopped minute in the middle of nowhere was very slight. After a lot of bladder stress and damp panties, she had to figure out a way to find relief in her truck cab. Due to obvious biological reasons, she couldn't use a piss jug like a man could. However, after some research, she discovered female urinary devices and fell in love with them instantly. After she purchased a GoGirl, she thought she would be safe, until she learned rather wetly how difficult it was to lower jeans past her vagina while on the road. One pair of soaked jeans and a crushed piss jug later, she finally figured it all out. A soft cloth skirt, stretchy polyester panties that were easy to pull aside, plus her GoGirl was the combination she had always needed. This setup allowed her to easily complete deliveries across the states, and everything was great. Until the fateful day came when she set off from her home dispatch in Reno, Nevada to Eureka, Nevada, pulling a trailer full of car parts. A short haul in comparison to so many others, through nearly pure desert. Her gas tank was full and her cooler was loaded with her favorites. A combination of teas and juices, and of course, iced coffees. Her reliable piss jug was resting empty on the passenger seat, and everything was set for a peaceful, uneventful haul. Little did Jessica know that her GoGirl was still laying, freshly-cleaned, in the sink in her office bathroom back in Reno. She drove on worry-free, stopping for food and a more comfortable pee in Fallon. After a long time on the road, she slowly helped herself to her stash of drinks. Two bottles of tea, an iced coffee, and a bottle of water later, she felt the pressure in her bladder a few minutes after she passed through Austin, the very last sign of civilization until her destination in Eureka. Damn, she thought. I should have peed in Austin, I could have made the whole trip without the jug. I don't usually get that luxury, but I didn't even feel it yet. Stupid bladder turned on all at once. She pressed her thighs together, glancing to her piss jug before she sighed and shook her head. Not yet. If I do it now, I might have to go again before Eureka and I'd like to avoid the trouble. Besides, the GoGirl works better when it's a strong stream. And so Jessica drove on alone, taking in the flatlands around her and the rocky plateaus in the distance. With each mile that passed, she felt the need to pee more and more. Once her hips began to rock involuntarily, she decided it was time for relief. She slowly pressed on the brakes, pulling her rig to the side of the road. She reached for her large purse and unzipped it, digging around for the GoGirl. It took all of ten seconds for her to realize what she had done. Shit. No. No no no. I can't believe this, it's still in the fucking sink. Jessica violently shut her purse, crossing her legs tightly. Oh Jesus, what am I going to do? Her sudden realization of her inability to pee made the pressure three times worse in the span of a minute. She lifted up her skirt and pressed her left hand against herself tightly and took a deep breath. It's alright. I'll be fine. I have a pad in my purse, I'll use that. Oh who am I kidding, that won't hold anywhere near enough and letting a little bit out would probably just make it worse. I remember that there's a huge patch of brush up ahead just a little past Belmont Road. I'll pull over there and go into the brush to pee. Even if someone passes, they won't see me. Just pretend that snakes aren't real for a minute. Fuckin' danger noodles... It was at that moment that Jessica had a vivid thought of a snake latching itself onto her rear end as she popped a squat. She shuddered. I don't have to squat, I can just pull my panties aside and pee standing. Besides, it's getting dark. It's really cold at night, snakes hate cold, they'll all be in their, uhm, snake homes. Jessica put the truck back into gear and accelerated onward, keeping her left hand in her crotch and her right on the wheel. Good thing this is a straight line, I don't even have to steer so at least I can hold myself. As the minutes ticked by, she squirmed harder and faster and her thighs rubbed together as she tried to jiggle her legs while keeping an even pressure on the gas. She flipped on cruise control and twisted her legs together, inhaling sharply and squeezing all her bits as tightly as she could. I can't believe I got so desperate so fast. It's only been half an hour since Austin. All that caffeine in the tea and coffee... The seatbelt pressed on her rock-hard bladder, now the shape of a small cantaloupe, and each time she shifted it irritated the sensitive area. She would have removed the seatbelt if not for the unbearable “WHAONK WHAONK WHAONK” the truck made when she wasn't buckled in properly. Ten minutes later and Jessica nearly squealed in happiness as she spotted Belmont Road spanning off to her right. And just past it, the large patch of tall bushes and dry trees that she had been so desperately waiting for. With her impending relief at the forefront of her mind, she didn't even notice it. Her worst nightmare, slowly advancing towards the Lincoln highway from Belmont. A police cruiser, a simple highway patrol, ready to take the night shift on the Lincoln. She spotted it just as she passed it and it pulled onto the road behind her, and she was too stunned to even cry about it. Why is the universe trying to kill me, she thought, astounded at the pure audacity of reality itself that it would do such a thing to her. She eyed the cruiser in her mirror as her bladder throbbed and begged for release. I can't stop now. If I do, he'll stop to see if something's wrong. If I could use my jug, I could just hide it under the seat and fake like I was checking my GPS. A spurt of pee suddenly forced its way out of her, dampening the crotch of her loose panties. She gasped and squeezed her legs like a vise, cursing as another few drops leaked out of her. She had to split her focus between holding her leaking pee and driving straight. If the cop pulled her over thinking she was a drunk, she would absolutely wet herself in front of him. A minute later, a longer spray of pee shot out of her tortured hole and began to soak into the back of her skirt. It's happening. I have to do something. With her left hand, she focused on keeping her truck driving straight. All she had to do was keep her hand still and the truck would handle the rest itself. With her right hand, she tore open her purse and removed her folding knife, a Ka-Bar Kharon. She really liked the color, and while it might be a bit excessive, she didn't want to play around if she was in a burning truck with a stuck belt. She made sure the wheel was straight, and quickly reached her left hand down and pulled the crotch of her panties out, cutting through it with the knife. She couldn't drive and hold the panties aside at the same time, nor could she maneuver herself enough to remove them completely. She folded the knife and tossed it back into her purse, then grabbed the jug and shoved it between her legs. She felt around her leaking womanhood with the rim of the jug, trying to position it where she was pretty sure she peed from. What I would do for a dick right now, she screamed internally. Finally she squeezed it in place with her thighs, hoping against hope that she had it in the right place. She didn't. As soon as she relaxed her strained kegels, her flow deflected off the rim of the jug and sprayed up hard over her skirt and the lower half of her shirt. She cursed louder than her truck horn could sound, trying desperately to find the right place for the jug. She had no chance of stopping her pee now, her bladder was far too full and her muscles were too weak. After she had wet her entire skirt, seat, and somehow the steering wheel, she just gave up. She tossed the empty piss jug onto the floor of the passenger seat and leaned back, bursting all over her seat and floor. Her stream flowed freely, unobstructed by her panties, and looking down she could literally see her bladder deflating. She breathed heavily and moaned from the relief, trying to push away the thoughts of cleaning her rig after this incident. She just tried to enjoy the sensation of her emptying bladder, and it was over a minute later that she finished and sat up straight, leaning on the wheel. Better than an orgasm. She opened her purse again and pulled out a pad, using it to dry her thighs as best as she could. It hardly made a difference with how soaked her skirt and seat was, but at least it made her feel a little better. She sighed and continued down the highway. At least there won't be anyone at my destination at night, just a simple drop-off. Skirt's a dark color so cameras won't see that I'm wet. I remember from last time there's a 24 Hour pharmacy a mile away from the yard, so I should be able to buy some new panties once I dry off a little. This could have been a lot worse. I wish this didn't have to happen, but that's the fuckin' way she goes.
  17. holditin

    female Anita's Control

    I hope this story is enjoyed by all. I actually liked writing it more than I liked it on second reading, but I still think it's a good one. Maybe a little more subtle than the majority of my stuff. As always, thoughts, comments, and ideas for future stories are certainly appreciated! Anita's Control I sat at the bar feeling a bit nervous. My first date in more than a few years, and it was a blind date to boot. At 35 I was in pretty good shape and certainly wasn’t bad looking, but I’d never seemed to make a connection with any woman for longer than a few months. Finally a longtime friend decided to set me up with one of her comrades at the law firm she worked at. “Anita is very nice,” she told me before the date, “she’s regal and comforting and makes good conversation. One thing I want to let you know about though – she’s 47. Is that alright?” I shrugged and replied that it was. What did I have to lose, after all? Anita had let me know over the phone that she would be wearing a red dress so that I would know it was her, and sure enough, right on time at 6 pm, in walked a buxom blonde in a tight red dress. I waved her over, internally thanking my friend for her good taste in women, because Anita was truly a stunner! We got some drinks and began perusing the menu for our dinner, and Anita had already drained her water and asked for a refill, along with a beer, by the time we ordered. I got a beer as well and sipped it as we chatted. Anita was charming, and by the way she was looking at me I could tell she was very much enjoying our date. We ate and kept talking, and before I knew it, it was 8 pm! I had finished my water and two beers and noticed an acute urge to visit the facilities. I looked over at Anita, who had consumed the same as me, plus an extra water, and surprisingly she seemed in no distress. I figured she was putting on a good front, so I said, “Hey, I think I’m going to hit the bathrooms. Shall I show you where the ladies’ is?” Instead of accompanying me as I’d suspected, Anita replied with a frown, “Oh no, go ahead if you must. I can control such things.” Taken aback, I turned and went, the whole time replaying her words in my head and not making sense of them. Could she really be implying that she’s got a strong bladder? We stayed for one more hour and had another beer each, and by the time we decided to call it a night around 9 I had to pee once more. “I’m sorry, I have to use the bathroom again before we go. Are you quite sure you don’t want to go?” I asked, curious as to her answer. After all, despite her confidence in her bladder, I knew Anita hadn’t taken a pee in at least 3 hours and had consumed a liter and a half of beer and a liter of water in that time. I also knew that women’s bladders tended to get weaker as they got older, so I figured this time she would take heed and join me in relief. “Do I look like I’m in distress? It is no problem for me to wait,” Anita told me with a smile. And so I went, peed again, took her to her car, and we arranged to meet again. I had really enjoyed our time together and was looking forward to another meeting, but I was also fascinated by Anita’s seeming refusal to relieve herself. Was she pee shy, or did she really possess a bladder of steel like she claimed? We had a myriad of dates over the next few weeks, of varying length, and after each of them I went to the bathroom and asked if Anita (who of course had not gone once the entire time) would like to accompany me. Her responses were: 1. “I’m fine. You go on ahead, dear.” – after another long dinner. 2. “I can wait. It was just one movie, after all.” – after a 3 hour movie with lunch beforehand. 3. “That’s not necessary. I don’t need it right now.” – after 6 hours of wandering the city and looking in museums. 4. “Certainly not. Don’t worry, I’m a woman you can take out and not have to worry about finding facilities for.” – after another 3 hour dinner, this time with even more to drink than our first date! Every time she denied herself the restroom I became more aroused and excited and simply fascinated by her. Part of me desperately wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed her ability to wait, but another part of me was more curious. I wanted to see how far she would push herself normally, without explicitly knowing what she was doing to me. Finally one day I got my opportunity to be with her for an extended period of time. Anita’s law firm was sending her to a conference three hours away in a neighboring city, and she’d invited me to come with her “and keep me from going crazy from the boredom of it all.” I picked her up and we left her house at 9 am. I’d arrived an hour earlier to have breakfast with her and saw the light in her bathroom window switched on, then switch off a couple minutes after I rang her doorbell, so I assumed she’d had her morning pee at 8. It was hot in the car, so Anita consumed a bottle of water during the ride, and by noon we had arrived at our hotel (provided by the conference, so free of charge!). When we went into the room I immediately made use of the toilet, then asked if she wanted to relieve herself to be comfortable before the conference started. “Oh darling, I am fine. I will last the conference comfortably.” I expected this answer but still enjoyed hearing it. Ten minutes later and we were off to the conference building. When we reached the building, we quickly made our way to the lobby. A large group, perhaps 50 people, was milling outside of a set of double doors that led to the auditorium the conference would be taking place in. There was a table set up with refreshments, including a few pots of coffee, mostly untouched, and I overheard a few of the lawyers, men and women, talking near the refreshments table, saying, “Gosh, can you remember last year’s conference?” “I know, it ran so long!” “God, I was bursting for the loo by the end of it and that last speaker wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to go!” “I know, I think everyone learned their lesson this year. I know I’m not having any of that coffee beforehand!” I saw that Anita had heard their conversations as well and needled her, “Do you hear them? Are you sure you don’t need to pee before the presentations start?” Anita huffed at me, “Oh yes, I’ve been to these conferences before. I can control myself much better than that.” With that, my date slid her way passed the grouping of complainers and poured herself a large cup of black coffee. A few in their number kind of made eyes in her direction, but Anita just smiled them off and returned to my side. “They should really learn the benefits of waiting,” she said to me as the doors opened up. The conference was, in a word, boring as all hell. Anita had been right about that. I can honestly say I barely listened to a word of it after the first twenty minutes, instead focusing on how good my date looked in her sharp pantsuit. I also noticed that her large coffee was finished before the first hour. Still, she showed no signs of it, and after an eternity, 3:30 rolled around and we received an hour break for lunch. Anita snickered just a little as we saw a gaggle of conference-goers with bursting bladders quickly go to the restrooms. That meant we were among the first people to reach the restaurant located adjacent to the conference building, and we had ourselves a nice, simple lunch of sandwiches and sodas. Anita was making small talk with the waitress as she brought us our check a little after 4, and when the waitress learned of the conference and noticed Anita’s empty glass of soda, she told my date, “I’ve had a lot of customers come in from different conferences over there. Sounds like they’re no fun at all. The bathroom is over there, by the way. You’ll wanna be able to concentrate when you go back, am I right? Haha!” Anita smiled politely but replied, “Oh, honey, I’m much closer to getting a refill than needing to use the bathrooms, but thank you for the offer.” Sheepishly, I then thanked the waitress for the information and snuck off to use the bathroom. I didn’t think my bladder could take another 3 hours of law theory. Then we departed back to the conference building. Anita got herself one more coffee before going inside, then poured one for me before I could refuse, and we headed back into the conference room. Again, within an hour she’d downed her own, while I had barely touched mine. Truth be told, I’m not much a fan of black coffee, so when Anita looked over and motioned to my full cup, I whispered this to her. “No matter, I’ll have it then,” she replied easily, taking my cup and starting to sip. It was 6 by the time Anita had finished that one as well, and with all the drinks she was building up in her bladder and after 10 hours of holding time I knew she had to be feeling it! But I stared at her and still saw no signs that she needed a bathroom. Her demeanor was absolutely pleasant. Just like the previous year, the conference ran long, finally finishing up at 8 pm, but after 12 hours without a pee Anita was only absentmindedly crossing her legs from time to time. I wasn’t even sure it was due to pee need more than just general comfort. Again almost everyone in the room made their way to the bathrooms (and some with haste) once they were let out, but again Anita was not among them. I asked her what she wanted to do and she suggested dinner, so off we went to a fancier restaurant across town that she knew of. When we reached it around 8:30, we took our seats and I thought that now, surely now, Anita would excuse herself to use the restroom before our meal. But she stayed put, so after we ordered drinks I acknowledged it, “Well dear, you certainly were correct! You made it through the whole conference comfortably, even with the coffee!” Anita gave a little laugh at my blatant statement, then replied, “Mhm, it was no problem at all. I control myself well, I think, even when I start to need it.” “You really don’t need it, even now?” I ventured daringly. Anita gave me a quizzical look, then replied, “What are you talking about? I have dinner with you like this all the time. You know I don’t go at dinner.” I was left speechless, realizing that every time we’d eaten dinner together Anita had been holding her bladder for the entire day going into it! That was all the conversation we made about her bladder during the dinner, and as usual we stayed after our meal to chat, so when we eventually got up to leave it was 11 pm. We’d had a few alcoholic beverages, and I’m sure as we got up Anita expected me to make my customary trip to the bathroom before we returned to the hotel. But instead I said playfully, “Well I for one am certainly not going to use the bathroom before we leave. Dare ya to skip the bathrooms with me!” At this Anita gave a wry smile, “Challenge accepted, sir. As if I was going to go anyway!” I saw a distinct bulge in her abdomen as we left the restaurant. At 11:30 we reached the hotel room and I instantly made my way to the bathroom to let out my pee. After skipping my after dinner pee I had to go quite badly! I was halfway through my noisy gusher when I heard Anita shout, “Can you shut the door or something to keep it down? You’re not making it any easier for me out here!” Confused, I shut the door with my free hand and finished my pee. When I exited the bathroom I asked her, “Why did you want me to shut the door?” Anita was sitting on the bed, lightly rubbing her swollen abdomen, “Oh, it’s alright dear. Hearing you go like that just made my bladder have some empathy pangs. It’s nothing I can’t control. I shouldn’t have even said anything.” “Are you not going to go before bed? You haven’t gone all day. I figured you’d want to be able to sleep!” I responded incredulously. Now Anita looked at me with annoyance, clearly perturbed that her perfect composure was being questioned, “Honestly, dear, I’m just a bit uncomfortable. I’m not wetting myself. I’ll be just fine.” I couldn’t believe it, but at midnight, after 16 hours without a pee break, Anita gingerly laid down on her side to sleep next to me. I couldn’t resist, putting my hand on the swell of her bladder as I spooned her, and after a groan she whispered to me to please move my hand, for it was making it hard to sleep. I did as she asked, instead groping her breast to elicit a much more pleasurable groan, and we drifted off to sleep like that. When we awoke the next morning, I checked my phone and discovered it was 8 am. To my left, Anita was just starting to stir. Her bladder had clearly grown during the night, now jutting out burstingly from her slim abdomen. It had now been an astonishing 24 HOURS since she had taken a pee to relieve her enormous building pressure, and Anita moaned quietly in pain as she forced herself to sit up and compress the mass of water inside her. I assumed her sphincter had to be tiring, but Anita allowed herself no more than a quick squeeze of her crotch before rising to her feet. Instead of making her way to the bathroom in just her panties, she began getting dressed for the day. I was more than impressed, but I also had my own morning pee to let out, and this need won out over my need to watch my beautiful date. As I entered I decided to experiment, again not shutting the door before starting my stream. Not five seconds after I started I heard, “Honestly! Can you please shut that door? I haven’t gone in quite some time!” I was in heaven hearing Anita, my strong-bladdered woman, talk so openly about her need, but I did as she asked and finished my pee with the door firmly shut. When I exited the bathroom Anita was dressed in another of her sharp-looking pantsuits, and she gave me a smirk while wiggling her bum a bit, “You really need to learn some manners when you’re with a lady. Hearing you go makes my bladder very unhappy!” She shook her head at me playfully, then asked me what we should do with our day. I thought about it and suggested sightseeing, since I had never been in this city before. Anita laughed her warm laugh, explaining that she’d been here many times and knew all the sites, so even though it would be boring for her, she would take me around and show them to me. I dressed and we walked to the door, then I stopped and asked, “Aren’t you going to use the toilet before we check out? It looks like you really need it.” “Just because I am very uncomfortable does not mean I need behave like a young girl. I can control myself.” We left and ventured into the city. For someone holding a brimmingly full bladder, Anita was still quite a capable tour guide. Her steps were becoming shorter and her breathing labored at times, but otherwise she just looked like she was feeling some discomfort, not like someone who had been holding her bladder for hours on end. By noon I was ready for lunch, so Anita took me to a nice little pub at the far end of the city. It was 28 hours since her last pee and it had become crystal clear that it was getting very difficult for her to push her need to the back of her mind and focus on anything else. As we were seated I noticed her bladder was swollen to massive proportions, and her pantsuit looked extraordinarily tight, cutting into her quivering abdomen. While we perused the menu I suggested having some fun and ordering beers with our meal, to which Anita replied, “Do you want me to lose my load? I’ve been holding for over a day and you want me to drink more??” Before I could respond, Anita continued, “But I am a lady and my bladder does not control me or my decisions, so yes, I would like to have some beer.” One lunch and two beers each later, Anita was clearly in some serious bladder pain. She was sitting straight up and her knees were pressed together tightly. Between huffs and puffs, she still asked me if I wanted to continue looking around the city, but truthfully I was tired of it, so I told her we could just return home. Anita nodded, took a deep breath in as she rose from her seat, her pee now sitting heavily inside of her, and we went back to the car. I was sure Anita would want to stop on the way home to pee, but amazingly she did not, though when we reached her place at 4 pm I had no doubt she was nearly exploding with pee. The diuretic effects of the beer had taken full effect on Anita, and as she waddled inside, she had no choice but to undo the top button on her pants. There was simply no room left in them to keep them from tearing. A quick look at her now-revealed abdomen showed a bladder that might have been swelled to 3 liters in capacity. Anita had been holding this ponderous load for 32 hours now, and while she clearly NEEDED some relief, her massive, cavernous bladder stayed shut. I followed her in and we sat on her couch and chatted. Another hour and it made 33 for Anita’s bladder. Her skin was now stretched white and she was rocking back and forth in her seat. “Anita, do you still not wish to relieve yourself? You look like you’re about to burst!” I commented honestly. This time Anita admitted, “You are right, I am finally going over my maximum limits. I feel near to exploding, because surely my bladder can’t stretch anymore.” “It’s alright, even people with iron bladders need to pee sometimes.” I told her. “Unfortunately you are right, and it looks like I have reached that point. I need it so badly I can barely think. As much as I try to resist it, I can’t do it any longer. My poor bladder of steel can’t hold it anymore. Would you mind terribly if I went and used my own toilet now?” I looked my beautiful Anita up and down and realized that she was on the absolute verge of an accident, white knuckled, legs shaking and beginning to scissor, face matted with sweat. I nodded that I would have no problem with her finally having a pee, and no sooner had I said that than she bolted up off the sofa and walked hurriedly to her upstairs bathroom. I followed, of course, and was in awe of the fact that even at this extreme level of desperation Anita refused to use her hands to help her hold while she walked. She entered the bathroom, pulled down her unbuttoned pants, sat on the cold, seldom used toilet seat, and relaxed her sphincter muscles and gargantuan bladder for the first time in just over 33 hours. “Ooooooooooooh…..” Anita sighed as the pee stream began to leave her aching bladder. There was no gradual increase in the stream. Clearly Anita was at her limits, because the pee burst out of her with a force. Like a tap on full blast and then some, Anita let loose her flood of pee into the pristine toilet bowl. I couldn’t imagine holding even a sliver of what she was letting out as the pee kept coming with no signs of stopping. After a couple minutes Anita had her wits about her again, though her pee was still going strong, and she apologized to me, “I am sorry you have to see me like this. I am normally a strong and in control woman, not a weak one like now. It’s only been a few minutes and I can already feel myself emptying. I need to practice more. I shouldn’t ever have to find myself in this state.” I hugged her as the pee kept flowing from her, “It’s alright dear. I thought you did a fantastic job controlling your needs.” She looked at me, face full of relief, and asked, “Now that you’ve seen me like this, are you alright with me waiting like this in the future? I do not like peeing, even when it is absolutely necessary.” At this, I smiled widely, “I hope you keep trying to control it even when you’re at your limits.” She nodded and hugged me, still on the toilet and still peeing strongly five full minutes after she’d started, and I knew that my time with Anita would be unforgettable.
  18. Anti-SJW {211}

    malefemale My intense desperate evening

    Kind of a long night - Perhaps a little 'too long; didn't read' for most. But I put effort into this. I already had to pee a bit when the thought struck me. I should just make my own video tonight. So I decided to play it for everything I could. I lined up several drinks for myself, and drank a decent amount before going to my room. I started needing to pee an hour earlier. Not sure how much I had inside me. I ended up drinking two cups of Earl Grey tea, before going to get another. I drank a bottle of water, out of the four I had, as well as one of the two glasses of water. I knew that if I kept drinking quickly I would fill quickly - it's always been an issue, it seems... I almost feel as if i'm on diuretics when I drink a lot. xD Anyway, I gave myself time. It stretched from 9:00 PM to 10:30, and my bladder was bulging a little from the liquids I had been taking in. I knew I would need to relieve myself soon, or I would ruin my shorts. So instead, I switched to my only pair of jeans. They're loose, but comfortable. I even took some pictures of my bladder... And a video or two. ;) Before I switched to jeans: After: {{ will post video as soon as it's approved }} Anyway, it went to about 11:30. And continuously drinking, but not too heavily. I now only have two water bottles left, but my bladder is in serious pain. I didn't think I could last another minute - But I forced myself to hold it until my downloads were finished. The pain was intense, and very arousing. I lasted another thirty minutes where I thought I would have wet myself badly. I thought I was going to burst once, but I managed to keep it in, thus I had a camera cut for no reason. I'll post that too. {{ To be announced }} So I laid back down... But only for ten more minutes. I drank my final tea. That was it, I couldn't stop shaking. My bladder intensely hurt, and I couldn't press on it without leaking a little more. It was hopeless to continue, as my jeans were getting quite wet. So I stood up, turned my camera on, and released. {{ Again, to be announced }} It felt so incredibly good to relieve myself, even if it was in my jeans. The puddle made it through my towel. And my jeans were thoroughly soaked. Just... Watch the video. xD And I have to rush because i'm desperate for a pee again, and my bladder is weaker now. So before I wet myself in my bed... I'll go. xD Thank you for reading!
  19. Hello, Readers. If you have not read Book One of the Lunambra Tales, please visit this link and do so- https://omorashi.org/topic/21635-to-lunambra-a-medieval-watersports-tale/ -There are many related events and characters. I suppose this story is still sexy enough without the knowledge of Book One, but if you actually care about the story... Also, I will warn that this story contains passionate, desperate sex, nudity, and many other suggestive themes far beyond peeing. So if you don't like that stuff, for some reason that I'll never understand, you can skip this one. Also, this story contains no violence, unlike my first, so if that turned you off, you may find this one more palatable. Either way, I hope you enjoy my story, and there will be a Book Three. ********************** Part One – Garden ********************** "I truly do not know if I can contain it any longer, my Prince," Marina moaned as she lay naked and spread-eagle on the massive bed. "I know you can," Baeden assured her. "You've only had eight goblets and it's been less than two hours. The first time I saw you soak yourself you had waited all night and half a day. Your belly is still soft. You can wait a lot longer, I am sure of it." Marina twisted her legs together and held onto Baeden's left arm, her face nuzzled into his shoulder. "That time, I believed my life and home depended on staying dry. Like this, at peace, it's so much harder to hold it in." She slowly slid her right hand down her chest, over her belly, and between her legs. "I feel like I'm going to leak any time now." Baeden smiled at the young, beautiful redhead. "Would you be willing to make this more interesting? I will put you in a dress and veil, and we will go on a stroll through the castle gardens. My mother is with the riding trainer. Any civilians or noblemen who see us will simply believe that you are a Princess I am courting. That is, unless you wet your skirts in front of them.” Marina blushed nearly as red as her own hair, squeezing Baeden's arm tighter. “Why do you want me to humiliate myself like that? I know you love it when I hold my waters for you, but here, alone...” “I want to see you like you were the first time we made love, Marina. You were at your very limits, reddened, sweating, your belly was rock-hard. It was the most fascinating thing I've ever seen. You are beautiful as you are now, but I want more than anything to see that desperation again. I do not want you to lose control outside, I want you to hold on until we get back in here.” Marina grasped Baeden's hand and moved it between her legs, letting him feel her moist, warm lips. He gently stroked her, and she shivered, pressing his arm against her breasts. “If you want to see me like that again, I will do as you ask. Just understand that I am already very full, and I will not be able to stay out for too long,” she whispered. Baeden nodded and rolled to his side, standing straight. Marina smiled at his manhood which stood like a flagpole, leaning over and giving it a quick rub. He swatted her hand away, grinning. “Save it for when we get back. Now what should you wear...” He opened his closet, which he had recently made home to numerous dresses and skirts he picked out specifically for Marina. He shuffled through them, eventually removing a light blue half-dress and white silk underskirts. She nodded approvingly at his choice, and stood up from the soft bed. Baeden stared at her, her small but perfect breasts sitting on her thin chest, her legs squeezed together with a slight bend, one hand pressed between them. Baeden stepped up to her, and kissed her chest and shoulders. “These first,” he whispered to her, laying the underskirts on the ground in front of her. She gingerly stepped into them, and Baeden slid them up her slender legs until they rested on her hip. She bounced on the balls of her feet, causing the skirts to floof about cutely. Next, Baeden pulled the light blue dress over her head, and she slid her arms through the silk sleeves. The dress fell across her body and settled around the skirts, and then, to Marina's horror, Baeden held up a lacy blue and white corset. “I can't wear that,” Marina gasped. “I'll wee myself immediately.” “But no Princess would be seen outside without one. You must keep our cover,” Baeden said slyly. “I simply won't be able to make it outside the castle if you put that on me. If you want me to wet a hallway, go ahead.” Baeden sighed. “Very well. I will tie it around your chest, but leave it loose on your belly.” Marina nodded, and wrapped her arms around Baeden's neck as he tied the corset on her. As promised, he left the laces loose around her stomach, and she could still reach between her legs. “Are you ready?” “Yes, my Prince. I am actually feeling excited by this.” “I hoped you would be. Follow me.” Baeden led her out of his chambers and through the halls of the castle. Down the stairs of the entrance hall and outside through the back gate, Marina saw the massive garden that spanned out in front of them. Empty, isolated, and in full bloom, she smiled and held on to Baeden's hand. Before they entered the garden, Baeden led her to a stone fountain, from which a thin stream of clean water flowed from the mouth of a stone fish. “Drink, Marina. I fear what you have already had will not be enough to fill you further.” Marina blushed again, but obeyed. She drank the sparkling fresh water, gulping down sip after sip until Baeden placed his hand on her shoulder. She was extremely embarrassed, red-faced and grimacing, all while holding a look of adventurous excitement in her eyes. “I cannot believe we are doing this. Anyone could see. I have to wee so badly, I can't hold my legs still anymore...” Baeden stood and helped Marina to her feet. “We are alone here. It is not a harvesting day, and nobody will come until the gardener this afternoon. We have all day.” “I will be lucky to make it all hour, my Prince. You say my belly is soft, but if that is true, it is because I must be getting fat. I am truly desperate.” Baeden laughed at this. “You are absolutely not getting fat, Marina. You will see today, how much more you can hold. It has been a long time since we first did this.” And so they walked into the green garden, Baeden leading the way through the tall hedges and patches of growing vegetables. Marina hobbled behind, stopping to hold herself every few seconds. Baden soon stopped and turned to her. “Stop that. Imagine that we are walking with another Kingdom's royal family. You are full to bursting, but you cannot let it show. You are a princess, you will hold on as long as you need to.” Marina removed her hand from her womanhood and stood straight, her legs together and her hands pressed to her sides. “Better,” Baeden said, and continued his walk. For nearly an hour they circled the massive garden, and eventually Marina could just not walk properly anymore. She stopped and leaned forward, her hands shooting to her belly. Baeden turned to her and watched as she bent her knees and bounced her bottom, her red hair swaying with her movements. Baeden walked to her and grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. She gasped and moaned, holding herself with her free hand the whole way. Finally they came to a stone bench in the center of the greenery. Marina made straight for it, sitting down and crossing her legs tightly, gasping out loud and staring into the sky. “You really do look full,” Baeden whispered to her. Here, let me...” He sat down next to Marina, staring into her eyes and gently lifting her veil over her head. He wrapped his arm around her side, pulling her onto his lap. She moaned and clenched her legs on either side of his own, pressing herself into him. He slowly slid his arm around her, feeling the front of the corset and pushing in gently. She grasped his arm tightly, hissing in protest, but he kept pushing on her belly, kneading it and pressing it. It was solid and tight now. Not only was Marina desperate for relief, but she was beginning to get increasingly excited. She forced Baeden's hand away, and stood and turned, replacing herself on his lap, but facing him. She held his head in her hands and kissed him, thrusting herself into his leg and putting all her weight on it. “I feel like I am going to start leaking any second, my Prince. I will not make it back to your chambers, and I fear if I tried, I would fail while on the castle stairs.” Baeden stayed silent, but grasped the front of her dress and gently lifted it up, along with the three underskirts. He held her right leg and pushed it gently, and she responded by lifting it over his other leg so she fully straddled him. Her bright red lower hair glowed in the sunlight, glistening with either her urine or sex. Baeden looked around, staring at the castle walls, and at the garden around them. They were completely concealed from any windows or balconies, and the garden was silent as the grave. Baeden gave in to himself, grasping for the drawstring on his breeches. Marina helped him, and soon they were past his knees. Baeden got to work on her corset, unlacing it all the way up so her breasts fell loose in her dress. He pulled the light fabric down over her shoulders, exposing them both, and he began to suck gently on her right nipple. “Oh, my Prince, I am...mmm.” Baeden felt a sudden spurt of wetness strike his manhood, and looked down at her. A very slow, light leak was escaping the small girl's body, her flower quivering desperately and her legs tightly squeezing his own. “Hold it in, Marina. Just kiss me now, and do not let any more escape you.” “You ask the impossible...” she whispered. Baeden held her waist and pressed down, lowering her onto his member. He penetrated her easily, and he used his legs to move her up and down on top of him. She was holding his neck nearly tight enough to strangle him, but he kept his head in her chest and his hands on her hips. They found a rhythm, with Baeden thrusting his legs up and down and Marina gyrating on top of him. Soon, Marina began whimpering desperately into his ear, and with each thrust he could feel her leaking more of her golden liquids. They continued for five minutes, and soon Baeden could not control himself any longer. He pushed Marina off of him, and he came with a powerful moan, shooting his seed into the bush behind her. Marina collapsed on the bench beside him, stroking herself with her own hands, moaning and thrusting, until her whole body began to shake. Then she stood and froze, arms squeezed to her sides in a manner that made her breasts protrude wondrously. “I can't...it's coming now...” Baeden leaned back and watched as the soft hissing noise made itself heard from underneath her dress. A small line of liquid began trickling from beneath her skirts, snaking downhill into the nearest patch of dirt. Baeden stood too, and pressed her dress between her legs as she relieved herself. The fabric was soaked through instantly, pouring over his hand and onto the stone floor. Marina's blushing had somehow surpassed the color of her hair and moved on to a beet or a cherry, and she moved her hips back and forth as he pressed his hand into her. “I cannot believe what you turned me into,” she said to him. “I should feel horrific, mortified, but why? I love the way this feels. I know you love this too. It just feels natural, more than anything.” “If it feels natural to you, then it is natural. Everyone is a part of this Earth, there is no such thing as unnatural, the way I see it,” Baeden whispered to her, still running his hands under her lasting stream. Finally the waterfall ceased, and she released her dress. The entire front of it was soaked, and Baeden could not describe how beautiful she looked if he were the best poet in the Kingdom. “Obviously you cannot go back to the castle like this. Follow me.” Marina followed Baeden further into the garden, always glancing around for any sign of another person, but their solitude was total. They soon made it to the center of the garden, where a large fountain flowed fifteen feet in the air. Baeden wrapped his arms around Marina's shoulders and walked her along, kissing her the whole way. “I am truly sorry,” Baeden whispered, as they reached edge of the fountain. “For wha-AAAH!” Baeden shoved Marina backwards and she toppled over the stone, splashing into the cold water. She thrashed about, shrieking, and Baeden stood back as she climbed out of the fountain and sprawled out on the stone walkway. “Oh, you bastard,” Marina cried, glaring up at Baeden, who was grinning down at her. “I had to do it, Marina. Nobody can tell you wet yourself if, well, all of yourself is wet. Come on, we'll cut through the grass and get you in a warm bath and dry clothes.” Marina got unsteadily to her feet and followed Baeden back through the garden. As they approached the staircase into the castle, a short guard jogged out to greet them. “What happened, are you alright, my Lady?” he asked, looking over the drenched girl. “Aye,” Baeden spoke for her. “She had a bit too much wine this morning and got a little tipsy by the fountain. Keep your post, I will handle things.” The guard saluted Baeden and walked back to the corner of the garden. The two of them quickly ascended the steps and made for Baeden's chambers, locking the door behind them. *************************** Part Two – Perspective *************************** Sabina slowly walked through the hedges of the castle garden, rubbing her throbbing, distended bladder through her cloth undercoat. The crotch of her leather pants was already damp, and more leaked out of her with every few steps she took. Damn this, how could I get lost in a bloody garden? She stopped again, glaring around and over the hedges, but it was just green in every direction, the only path out twisting and intersecting with other side paths. Just get some cabbage, I said. I'll use the chamberpot when I get home, I said. Sabina fancied herself an adventurer, but her brain was home to one of the worst senses of direction in the Kingdom. She could get lost in her own house. Now, she cursed herself as she was forced to squat down, squeezing between her legs with all her strength to keep her waters inside. I have no choice, I have to do it out here. There's nobody within half a mile of me, It'll be fine. She hobbled around one last corner, and had to stifle a shriek as she saw two nobles sitting on a bench almost directly in front of her. They were distracted, staring into each others eyes. Sabina jumped sideways, collapsing into a large group of bushes that formed a small circle. She crawled into the center and fell backwards, twisting her legs together and letting out a silent moan. The sudden surprise and movement had forced a decent spurt from her tortured body, and she could feel the wetness building around her backside within the waterproof pants. She pushed her pelvis upwards and let the urine drip free of her clothes. She had a good view of the two nobles through the greenery, and she watched them as she held herself and gyrated against her hands. Wait a minute, that's Prince Baeden. And is that Marina with him? The hair is right, but I can't see under that veil. As if on cue, Baeden lifted the woman's veil, revealing that it was indeed Marina. Sabina watched, still desperately holding on, as Baeden lifted Marina onto his lap and began rubbing her belly under a loose corset. She was writhing on top of him, her face held in a combination of pleasure and pain. Soon she stood and got back on top of him, facing him. Sabina felt another spurt leak out of her as Marina lifted her leg and positioned herself over Baeden, and Sabina began feeling very warm as Baeden undid his breeches and lifted up her skirts, his face completely stupefied. Sabina had never seen one before, and she stared at it, dumbfounded. She was violently returned to reality as a longer burst of wee shot out of her, and she realized that it was over. She ripped the rope of her pants apart, kicking them off her legs as quickly as she could without making noise. Sabina lay there, naked from the waist down, watching as Baeden began to make love to Marina just a few feet from her. She found her hand making its way back between her legs, but instead of the tight squeezing she had gotten used to over the past hour, she began to rub her slick, leaking flower, sliding two fingers into herself. Marina's moans could be heard clearly, obviously she and Baeden were completely sure of their solitude. They went on for a time as Sabina watched, thrusting her fingers inside of her body until she was overcome with uncontrollable pleasure. She bit down hard on her undercoat, silently moaning into the cloth, tears of pleasure sitting in the corners of her eyes, containing a squeal as Baeden pushed Marina off of him, and something white flew from his manhood and landed just inches away from her. Sabina was still containing the majority of her water, and she squirmed as Marina stood up, walking ever closer to her. Sabina pressed her hand over her mouth, her breathing shallow. “I can't...it's coming now,” Marina said, looking down at her feet. Sabina stared, eyes wide, as the soft hiss could be heard and Marina's flood started pouring from under her skirts. The path of liquid found its way to the patch of dirt surrounding Sabina's hiding place, all the while more and more sprayed from the tiny girl. Baeden had walked up to Marina and was rubbing her womanhood through her dress, soaking his hands. Finally she finished, and after exchanging some whispered words, the two of them walked away. It was all too much for Sabina. She forced both hands between her legs, twisting them together and folding herself up into a ball, but it was over. Her waters found their way through her hands and flooded the grass beneath her, and she bit her lip as she felt herself orgasm once more. She dropped her hands and opened her legs, watching her wee shoot freely into the bushes in front of her. She found herself smiling madly, and she pushed down on her belly and giggled as the pressure of her stream increased. This is fun, she thought. A long time later, she slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. She lay in the bushes for nearly an hour, fingering and rubbing herself the entire time. Baeden and Marina's display was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen, and she wanted more. ********************* Part Three – Ride ********************* Queen Jenara was glad that the hard leather of her saddle pressed into her private areas, it always made it easier to ride for so long without relief. Still, the bouncing as her black mare trotted along caused the liquids within her to press down with great force. Every time she did this, she wondered how her horse would react if she were to wet herself while riding. Of course she would never do such a thing, but the thought still amused her. She sat up straighter, removing some pressure from herself, but it made the bouncing even worse. She squeezed her legs on either side of the animal, wanting to get back to the castle as soon as possible. A few meters in front of her, the new stable girl Mary Estenna rode along on a small white stallion. Her horse was obviously young and untrained, swerving around the stone path with a rebellious attitude. She kicked at the beast's sides to keep it on the path, and soon she pulled it to a halt and gingerly dismounted. “Excuse me for a moment, my Queen,” she said, starting to walk off the path into the trees. “What are you doing, girl?” Queen Jenara asked her. “I need to wee,” Mary said simply. “Oy, you...you wait right there,” Jenara blustered. “What is the matter with you, saying that in front of Royalty?” Mary looked confused. “You asked what I was doing, so I told you.” “Yes, but you will do that in your own home. Get back on your horse and ride on,” Jenara ordered. Mary turned to Jenara, bending one knee and placing a hand on her belly. “Are you in a hurry? Do you need to relieve yourself as well? I can handle your dress.” “WERE YOU RAISED IN A BARN, GIRL?” Jenara shouted. “Yes.” Jenara sighed. “Of course. Listen to me, a woman cannot just do that out in the trees. We have to hold ourselves to a higher standard.” “That's bollocks,” Mary quipped. “What true reason is there to keep myself uncomfortable? There are no men around us, we are the only ones for miles. You mean to tell me that in all your journeys, you've never had to empty yourself along the way?” Jenara closed her eyes for a moment. Her memory flashed back to the woods near Olsha Fortress, where she once sat on a fallen tree, her legs and womanly area in the open air with her servant Marina pressing against her belly as she soaked the earth in front of her. It had been a special circumstance, she had been bound in a dungeon for nearly an entire day with half a barrel of wine in her belly and only ten seconds of relief the whole time. The memory made her current pressure increase, and she squeezed her legs even tighter. Her horse whinnied its displeasure. She opened her eyes and looked back towards Mary, who was now bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Please, my Queen. If you do not let me do it now, I fear for my horse,” she said with a dry chuckle. Jenara sighed again. “It is not often that I get out-debated by a servant, but I believe you may have a point. I too could use a break. Come, help me from this animal.” Mary stepped forwards and took Jenara's hand, guiding her as she slid off the tall horse. The pressure in her bladder immediately increased, but she remained still. “Where do you want to do it, then?” “This is usually where I stop for it when I ride on my own. There's a nice spot surrounded by pines a couple dozen meters into the trees, nobody could see even if they were looking for us. Please come now, I don't know how much time I have left here...” Jenara grinned as she followed the stable girl. She remembered her childhood, when she was still training for her duties as a Queen. She had wet herself countless times as she was forced to sit still for eight hours, the average length of a war meet or other council. This bit of training was once every week. Of course, it was all to prepare her for the real thing so the same would not happen at a time of importance. She could almost feel it, pushed to the front of her memory. She sat in a wooden chair with her handmaiden across from her, shaking her head with her hands over her eyes as her body gave out and she soaked her dress through. Every time she wet herself, the dress was shown to her mother just to humiliate her into holding it better next time. Eventually, she could make it through eight hours with ease. The training was considered complete after she could wait for an entire day without relief, a feat she barely accomplished just days before her sixteenth birthday. Now, she was thirty-seven, and could easily wait for over twenty-four hours with little difficulty. Now, she had only been without relief for about six hours. She had wine and a lot of water with breakfast, plus a one liter water skin while riding. Of course she felt the desire to let it out, but there was no true need for it. In all honesty, she was worried about being left alone on the road, albeit for only a couple of minutes. She had been paranoid ever since her kidnapping, understandably so, and although Mary was only a small girl Jenara felt an illusion of safety with another. Soon Jenara was being led through a patch of thick pines, then she stepped out into a small, secluded clearing. A fallen tree lay a few feet away, and yellow and red flowers lined the perimeter of the clearing. It was obviously not a naturally-formed location. “Did you set up this area, Mary?” Queen Jenara asked. “Aye, I did,” Mary said. “This is pretty much my home. The stable house is smelly, dirty, old, and falling apart. I often sleep here, I stop here to relieve myself on my rides, and I...” She stopped suddenly, looking to her feet as she squirmed. “You can tell me,” Jenara said softly to her. “I promise you will not be judged for anything you say here.” She watched as Mary bent her knees and squeezed her thin legs together. Jenara feigned interest in the girl's life, but in reality she was finding it amusing to watch her get more and more desperate as she talked. Mary reminded Jenara of herself at a younger age. Just enough respect to keep from getting exiled, but enough of a talk-back attitude to show her personality. “Well, I've brought some friends here...” “What of boyfriends?” Jenara asked with a sly smile. “I've...no interest in boyfriends. Men are all...displeasing, to me.” “You mean women, then? Are you queer?” Mary turned bright red. “I don't have to answer that. Such acts are not allowed under the word of-” “Be calm, girl,” Jenara whispered. “I...understand. Ever since my husband died, I have had trouble even looking suitors in the face. All men remind me of him, for he was like all other men. Loud, drunk, and mean when the latter. All I miss of him is the physical pleasure he gave me, and to be perfectly honest I have learned to do the same on my own.” “On your own?” Mary asked. “What do you mean?” Jenara blinked, and she felt herself flushing, something very rare for a Queen. “Yes...I have learned over the years that I can bring myself to satisfaction using...well, my own hands. It has saved me the desire of finding a new husband, as in my right mind I have no need for him. My son is ready to take the throne.” “How do you do it?” Mary asked quickly. “I couldn't possibly explain,” Jenara sputtered. “It is a very private matter, I do not know what I was thinking to bring it up in the first place.” “Please,” Mary said, in a voice very near to a beg. “Ever since I reached womanhood, I have wondered what it would feel like. When I was a child, my parents told me never to touch myself down there because God says it is wrong, but if you, the Queen, do it...” Jenara sighed. “Many people say God forbids a thing, simply because they do not understand the thing. Why would God make us capable of such feelings and sensations if we were not supposed to take advantage of them? I cannot believe I am saying this, but if you truly want to learn, I would be willing to...show you. Be warned, however, that if word of this reaches the ears of ANYONE, I will have your head as a slanderer of Royalty.” Mary was not afraid of the Queen's words, as she knew that she would never make this known to another soul. She looked at the Queen, so beautiful even though she was a little over twice her own age of eighteen. Her long, shining hair was bunned behind her head and her breasts showed prominently from her corset. “I would never do any such thing, my Queen. You have my word, for what it is worth from a stable girl. Just let me finally release this lake inside me first...” Mary grasped for the bottom of her thin dress, turning to face away from Jenara. She pulled the dress up, revealing her backside. Jenara could see Mary's flower between her legs. An idea suddenly formed inside Jenara's head just as Mary began to squat. She did not know why she thought of this, only that it was something she wanted. “Wait!” Jenara called out. Mary stood straight again, slamming her left hand between her legs and looking to Jenara, desperate and confused. “There is a condition,” Jenara said. “I will only do this for as long as you hold your waters. If you release yourself, I will walk back to the horses and we will be done with this. But for as long as you wait, I will introduce you to pleasures you could have never imagined.” Mary dropped her dress, her eyes worried and her legs held tightly together. “My Queen, I do not know why you want this, but I really cannot wait any longer. I will soon soak my dress if you do not let me wee right now.” “I can tell from looking at you that you are not truly at your limit. You are bouncing around, holding yourself, twisting your legs together. I have been there many times, I know what it feels like to completely lose control. Your body grows tight, your womanhood quivers, you look to be some months pregnant and your belly feels as hard as a pumpkin.” Jenara strode across the clearing to Mary, pressing her thumbs against the girl's stomach. She inhaled sharply and bent over, but Jenara felt the flesh give slightly. “You are not yet at your limit, and if I am to show you my most private things, you will do this for me.” Mary was breathing heavily. She felt moisture between her legs, but she did not believe she had leaked yet. She glanced down, the Queen's chest nearly in her face. “I...will do as you ask,” she whispered. “I will wait as long as I possibly can. Show me.” Jenara smiled and stepped back. “Help me out of my dress.” *********************** Part Four - Pleasure *********************** Queen Jenara was naked, now. Mary stood before her, her whole body shaking from both desperation and excitement. Jenara reached out and grasped Mary's dress, pulling it up to reveal the girl's most secret spot. It was obviously damp, her lower hair glistening. Jenara sat down on the grass, leaning against the fallen tree. Mary sat down in front of her, clinging between her legs with both hands. Jenara unfolded her legs from under her and spread them out, showing the girl what only her husband and closest servants have seen before. Jenara raised one finger and placed it between her legs, rubbing the soft spot at the top of her flower. Jenara was instantly hot, feeling herself grow slick. “Do what I do, girl,” Jenara whispered. Mary gingerly removed her left hand from between her legs. She felt her insides throbbing from fullness, more than she had ever felt before. The Queen's words rang in her ears. You are not yet at your limit. Mary placed the tip of her finger over the fleshy bit and began to press and rub at it. Sensations shot through her body instantly, a wave of warmness and tingling that engulfed her with each motion she made. She watched intently as the Queen's hand moved further down, pinching the lips between her legs and gyrating her fingers against the soft skin. The Queen began to moan softly through her tightly closed mouth. “The main trick...is to relax,” Jenara gasped out. “If you are anxious, or afraid, or stressed, you will never get all the way there. Let go of all your inhibitions, free your thoughts.” “Mmmph,” was all that Mary could manage. Pulses of pleasure flew up and down her naked, sweaty, desperate body. Behind it all, her bladder cried out in torment as she refused it all it wanted. Could the Queen really be right? Can I really get more full than this? If I was truly about to lose control, wouldn't I have leaked by now? “My Queen,” Mary panted. “I am trying to do as you say, but my belly throbs and my thoughts will not leave it. I cannot focus...” Jenara looked down at the girl, twisting about in the grass, covered in sweat and with her slender belly protruding slightly. The Queen rolled over and knee-walked towards Mary, laying down next to her. “It hurts, doesn't it, girl?” Jenara said. “It feels as though your whole body is pushing down between your legs. But at the same time, does it not feel good for you?” Mary thought about it. It really hurt, that was for sure. But at the same time, the pulses from her bladder and those of her flower combined caused sensations she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams. She had to relieve herself soon, her body would give her no choice. But she did not want the sensations to stop. Not yet. “I...think I like it,” Mary said. “Usually when I need to wee bad, the pressure is just here,” she placed a hand on the mound above her womanhood. “But now, when I have need greater than ever before, I feel it everywhere. It is an entirely new feeling.” Jenara reached out and grasped Mary's shoulders, pulling her close. They were almost embraced, Jenara's breasts pressing up against Mary's belly and hips. “And it will only get stronger the longer you hold on,” Jenara whispered. “Let's try something new...” Jenara placed her right hand against Mary's thigh, and slowly moved it towards her quivering privates. Mary gasped and feigned quiet protests, but did nothing to stop Jenara as she slid her middle finger into Mary's body. Whatever the Queen was doing in there, Mary's legs instantly went limp and she leaned back into the grass, nearly screaming in pleasure. Jenara's left hand shot up and pressed tightly against Mary's mouth. “Be silent. If we are found, I cannot even begin to describe what would happen.” Mary squeaked her agreement and gritted her teeth, thrusting involuntarily against Jenara's hand. Mary squeezed her eyes shut, and in her pleasure, her thoughts began to focus entirely on this minute, this second. Her body still screamed for relief, but she no longer cared. All she could care about was this beautiful, powerful woman sending the lights of Heaven directly into her body. She grasped both of her breasts with her free hands and squeezed them, rubbing the half-inch long nipples with her thumbs. Before she could feel it coming, her body tensed up, going stiff and shaking like a naked farmhand in the dead of winter. An impossible feeling shot throughout her body, radiating from her belly, to her head, down her legs and arms, and back again. She went completely limp, breathing heavily and staring up into the cloudless sky. A few seconds later, the Queen's voice rose softly to meet her ears. “I thought I was the only one who could squirt like that...” Mary gasped and clamped her legs shut. “Squirt? Did I wee? Oh my Queen, I am so-” “Ssshhh,” Jenara hissed. “You did not do that. I can taste that it isn't...when a woman has her final pleasure, fluids can gush out regardless of if she needs relief or not. You had so much, though...maybe because this is your first time.” “Maybe-OH, NO,” Mary cried out, twisting her legs tighter and stuffing her hands back down there. “Now that you've stopped, my need is much worse. If we are done, can I-” “I never said we are done,” Jenara interrupted. “One great advantage we women hold against men, is that we can feel this as much as we like. We need not wait. I think you need one more.” “I'm going to BURST,” Mary spat. “You say I can wait, but I feel it, ready to come out.” “I have never told a single soul this before now,” Jenara said suddenly. “But something extraordinary happened during my time in Olsha Fortress. The bandits had me chained up in a locked cell, on a stone slab. There was another women in the cell with me, an adventurer who was mistaken for myself. Before I was captured, at the feast the previous night, I made my home next to a barrel of wine, and I limited my intake of it in no way whatsoever. As I was chained there, I grew so full that it looked like a baby could pop out of me at any moment. Despite all my training, all my discipline, I was going to wet myself in front of those heathens. I would have had to flee the Kingdom. Anyway, this woman did something I could have never imagined. She crawled up next to me and asked if I would do anything to save my pride in front of my captors. I said 'yes,' of course. She climbed over me and placed her whole mouth over my privates just as I lost control. She drank me for over ten seconds, and because of it, I escaped the fortress with my honor intact to all but that girl and one of my servants.” “Why are you telling me this?” Mary choked out behind tears of desperation. Jenara did not answer. She grasped both of Mary's legs and wrenched them apart with surprising strength. Mary shouted out involuntarily, but went limp a third time as Queen Jenara shoved her face between Mary's legs. The feeling of a tongue entering her was unmistakable yet horrifically shocking. “What in the hell-” Mary's words were cut off by a wave of pleasure greater than any before. She just gave up and collapsed backwards, accepting the sensations that the Queen was giving her. It didn't matter how strange it was, it didn't matter that she was a stable girl getting serviced by a Queen, it didn't matter that her bladder was giving out- Wait, no, I can't, not like this- But her body was having none of it. She exhaled her long-withheld relief as she felt pulses of wee bursting out of her with every breath. With what little strength she had left, she looked down, afraid of what she might see. The Queen was still between her legs, her mouth pressed against her. As she described a minute before, she was drinking everything that Mary put out. Soon she pulled back, gasping for air, and began to lick the tip of Mary's flower as her wee sprayed out across the grass. Mary simply did not have the energy to be shocked at this. She felt Jenara's arms wrap around her, and she fell asleep while her waters still poured out. ******************* Part Five - Pain ******************* Mary opened her eyes and let out a quiet moan as she felt a soft hand on her breast. She turned her head to her right and saw Queen Jenara, still laying next to her. The Queen was on her back, with her legs twisted together and her right hand on her protruding belly. “How long was I asleep?” Mary asked. “I would guess a little over two hours, from the sun,” Jenara answered. “I hope you don't mind, but I helped myself to your water skin while you slept.” Mary's mouth curled into a peaceful smile. “You really like it, don't you? The feeling of a tortured bladder? It's as you said before, you look pregnant.” “It makes sense, I suppose,” Jenara whispered. “All through my youth and adolescence, all through my sexual development, I've been forced to hold my waters for my Queenly training. It's no wonder that I've formed a connection between fullness and pleasure. When I was held ransom, I got more desperate than I've ever been before, but I feared for my life, there was no room for pleasure there. But on my own, or with the...right person, it is...wonderful.” “Doesn't it hurt, though?” Mary questioned her. The stable girl's small hand had made its way onto the Queen's belly, and she was rubbing it gently, not applying any pressure. “It hurts so much,” Jenara responded. “It is a pain unlike any other, being this full. Why I love it, I will never understand...but when I touch myself like this, it is infinitely more powerful than when I am empty. I find almost no interest in sex or pleasure when I'm not bursting at the seams, it just does not feel right to me.” Mary felt herself getting damp again, despite her recent release. “You helped me earlier...is there anything you would like me to do for you in return?” Jenara smiled at her. “Yes, something that hasn't been done for me since the night of my wedding nineteen years ago. As I lay here, with enough in me to overflow a chamberpot, I want you to climb over me and sit on my belly.” Mary instantly felt her face flush. “I-I couldn't,” she stammered. “It might really hurt you.” “I want to feel the pain, Mary,” Jenara moaned. “I cannot get enough on my own, you need to help me. Sit on my belly and ride me as you would a horse, do not fear for my safety.” Mary started shaking her head, but Jenara reached out both of her hands, her soft, wet hands, and grasped the sides of Mary's head. Before she could even try to question it, Jenara had pulled her into a passionate kiss. Mary gasped and struggled slightly, but the Queen held her there with startlingly powerful arms. Soon, Mary closed her eyes and returned the kiss, feeling Jenara's tongue licking at her lips. “Do it, girl. I want to feel your weight on me, I want to feel the pressure of a person pushing down on it.” Mary just nodded and got onto her knees. She slowly lifted one leg and shifted over the Queen, until she was straddling the beautiful woman. Jenara slid her hands up Mary's thighs and gently pulled down, guiding the stable girl's weight directly onto her bladder. “Are you sure you want this, my Queen?” Mary asked once more. “Stop teasing me and do it now,” Jenara gasped through gritted teeth. “Just let your legs go limp and let me feel this again...” And so Mary did as she was told. She lifted her legs and sat on the Queen's belly, and she was instantly greeted with an earth-shattering scream of pleasure and pain combined. The Queen's mouth was wide open, and she arched her back so her breasts fell back towards her chin. Mary leaned forwards and grasped the Queen's chest, thumbing her nipples and grinding her womanhood against the Queen's rock-hard bladder. Suddenly, the Queen's arms shot out and grasped Mary's shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. They kissed, and soon Mary was licking Jenara's chest as she gasped and shuddered at the weight on her. “Turn...” Jenara choked out. “Turn around and get a finger in me, and rub the inside of it towards the sky. Quickly, please...” Mary did not hesitate, she placed a hand on the grass beside the Queen and spun around, sitting her weight on Jenara again, to another screaming gasp. Mary felt for the hole between the Queen's legs, and soon her right middle finger was inside and rubbing as fast as she could. The Queen started thrusting even harder, and with a final lurch, she went limp as a long stream of white liquid shot out of her and splattered into the grass under her legs. “Stay there, girl,” Jenara whispered. “I've only relieved myself outside once before, it takes me some time.” And so Mary sat there, gently bouncing on the Queen's bladder, until she heard Jenara sigh. As suddenly as a bolt of lightning shatters the sky, an absolute torrent burst out before Mary's eyes. She lost her balance from the shock of it, leaning back and falling against Jenara's breasts. The Queen wrapped her arms around Mary and held her there, as they both watched her stream of wee arch five feet through the air. After a minute, Jenara was inside of Mary again, rubbing her to completion before she even finished her relief. Jenara fell back, breathing heavily. Mary climbed off of the Queen and lay back down next to her, embracing her. “When I lost control, I felt great pressure in my belly and in my privates. But there was no actual pain. I want to feel what you felt someday. Do you think you would be able to train me to contain it for as long as you do?” Jenara smiled. “I can try.” ************************* Part Six - Remember ************************* The door to Baeden's chamber flew open, crashing into the stone wall. A guardsman jogged in, breathing heavily from the effort of running in his armor. “My Prince, there is a...problem,” the guardsman said softly. Marina looked up from the sheet she was pressed into, seeing the armored man standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face. Prince Baeden was leaning back on his bed beside her, but sat up at the man's words. “What is it? Speak plainly,” Baeden ordered. “Knights Ryder and Finn were on a border run. When they reached the peak of Lom's Hill, Ryder spotted flags approaching from a vast distance away, from the south. Upon looking through a spyglass, they saw that it is a small army from Jarkan, and they drag siege engines along with them. There are no towns or cities between us and them...they come for Lunambra.” Marina saw the change instantly. During their first days together, she learned of Baeden's ability to transform between a sweet, loving man to an unstoppable crusader of wrath within the blink of an eye. He was on his feet faster than she could even track, and he stormed out of the chamber, slamming the door behind him. The guardsman looked awkwardly to Marina. She was stretched out along the bed, obviously on the receiving end of some very recent and energetic sex. Her right breast was hanging free of her loose burlap shirt, and her long skirt was pulled up, her womanly parts showing in the open air. She slowly closed her legs, never taking her eyes off of the guard. “I will say nothing,” said the guard. “Tis a Prince's right to bed who he shall, despite what some other royalty may think. If he means to continue having you, please tell him to remember that his door has a lock on it.” He pulled open the door and stepped out, and she heard his clunking footsteps retreating towards the staircase. The moment the hall went quiet, she jumped up from the bed and pulled her shirt closed, letting her skirt fall over her legs. She slid out of the door and jogged down he hall and descended the stairs as quietly as she could. Following the wall along to the meeting hall, she flattened herself against the floor and placed her ear against the crack under the door. The muffled voices grew clear, now. “-Think they have the element of surprise. We know they approach from the south, a simple but effective tactic to avoid our usual watch in the east. We will bring all of our ballistae onto the southern walls, as well as digging out trenches to slow the advance of their siege engines. Nathan, go to the mason immediately and tell him to completely seal off the southern gate with stone, and reinforce the northern gate, though we must still be able to open it enough to fit horses and carriages. You all know how to prepare for a siege, I do not need to say all this, it just wastes time. Get it done.” “Yes, Sir!” shouted numerous men at once. There was a clamor as they all retreated from the rear exit of the chamber and into the barracks. Marina stayed where she was, wanting to be sure they were gone before she moved. Just as she was about to stand, her eyes went wide as she felt something slam up hard between her legs. She screamed at the top of her lungs and flipped over, twisting her legs shut and scrambling backwards. Baeden leaned against a stone column, an apple in his hand and a proud grin on his face. “You bastard,” Marina started. “What do you think you're doing, frightening me like that?” “I could ask you what you are doing,” Baeden argued, “laying outside a private meeting with your skirt up and your cunt out for anyone to see. You already gave that guard a brilliant sight.” “I didn't know it was showing,” Marina whispered, standing up and patting her skirt down. “You didn't have to kick me there, though...” “Oh it was barely a tap, I've given you worse poundings than that in bed, all of which you seem to have greatly enjoyed.” “Well, you seem to be in good spirits now anyway,” Marina said. “You are confident that we need not worry about this attack?” “Aye,” Baeden confirmed. “Their armies are weak, they rely on their technology and siege engines to claim small cities, and turn the civilians against their kingdoms with promises of great wealth. It's almost humorous that they think their tactic would work here, every civilian is fed and housed, and our army is greater than any in a thousand miles in every direction. Their siege will fail at the first trench as we rain ballista fire on them. Their engines broken, they will retreat before they risk losing too many of their already limited men.” “And the citizens will be safe?” Marina asked. “Well,” Baeden started, “there is always a chance of a stray catapult stone landing somewhere it shouldn't. But this is no problem, it is common knowledge that in the event of a siege, all noncombatants are to seek shelter in the treasury. It is buried under twenty meters of stone, nothing can ever penetrate it. You will be there, along with all the other women and children of the city, until I deem things safe.” “That many people in a small room cannot be pleasant,” Marina said. Baeden grinned and looked at his feet. “You could say that. When I was a child of twelve, I was kept in there for nearly a full day. As you know, we used to have a problem with natural gas explosions beneath the castle. One of them killed my father when I was only a baby. Anyway, when I was twelve, a series went off that sounded exactly like catapult fire. Everyone thought we were under siege, and all the women of the castle and many from the city were brought into the treasury by guards. I have a feeling that this event is the cause of my...er, quirks. My fascination with women holding their wee as long as they can, and so on. After a few hours down there, beautiful, noble ladies started wetting themselves on the floor with absolutely no other place to go. Watching them squirm about, watching how they chose to relieve themselves... Some went through their underclothes to preserve their shame, while others disrobed, squatted, and went freely to avoid wetting their dresses. Over the time I was in there, everyone in the room had lost control of their waters. I watched at least fifty different women and girls do it in fifty different ways, and by the time the treasury door was opened, there was nearly an inch of it on the floor and I couldn't feel my cock. Since then, I've been unable to get the thing out of my mind. Every Princess I've been with, I wished with all my heart that I could just tell her 'Hey, there's nothing I would love more than if you could drink three liters of water and stand here 'till you piss yourself,' but obviously I could do no such thing. This is part of why I love you so much, that you understand this about me and enjoy it yourself.” “Did you?” Marina asked suddenly. “Eh?” “Did you wet yourself, down there in the treasury. I find it hard to believe that you outlasted fifty adult women when you were just a child.” Baeden grinned. “You should know this by now, Marina. Men cannot relieve themselves when they're excited, and I was ever so excited the entire time. When I got out, I was in such pain that I was sure my bladder had burst and I would soon die from it. I somehow made it up into my chambers, and with the slightest touch, I got off for the first time in my life. And then I soaked the floor.” “The first night we made love, you lost control inside of me. Were you not 'excited' then?” Baeden's face went red, which was a very rare phenomenon for him. “I, uh...” He frowned, absentmindedly pulling on the neck of his shirt. “Tell me...please,” Marina begged, staring cutely into his eyes. “Bloody hell, fine,” Baeden snapped. “Before the ride back home, when my mother pulled you away to scold you about her sword, I started leaking when I climbed into the carriage. I was not going to make it. I did the only thing I could think of, I...” Marina was listening intently, and she squinted at him as he stopped the story. “You cannot stop now. Tell me what happened.” She pressed herself up against Baeden, pulling the sides of her shirt down to reveal her breasts. “You are a real vixen, you know?” Baeden sighed. “Alright. I was about to wet myself on the carriage floor, so I took my cock out and tried to get it hard so I couldn't let any out. I got a little too into it and ended up having to shove it back into my pants as I...” “Oh, mmmmy God,” Marina gasped, her mouth opening in an astonished smile. “You got off in your pants. Oh that is great.” “I pissed myself a good bit too. My underclothes held most of what I leaked out, and thank God it was dark by the time anyone else saw me. Men need some time between pleasures, and when we were making love, I was not all together yet. So now you know how I managed to wee while we were going at it.” “You've gotten me all hot now,” Marina moaned, pressing her breasts up against Baeden. I know you must prepare for the attack, but you won't leave me like this...right?” Baeden looked up, feigning uncertainty. “Mmm, we've got time.” But first, do you remember what happened to you? What made you like what I like?” “Well,” Marina started. “I only realized it after I met you. But I think I might know where it started. The story is not very dissimilar to yours. Six years ago, I was only a girl, I was locked in a closet by another servant who was trying to get closer to the Queen by making me look bad. I had a water barrel in there, and I went at it generously. Obviously I was bursting in a couple of hours, and I was pressing my hands between my legs and rubbing at it when I realized that it felt kind of nice. I did some very unladylike things over the next hour after that, and soon I really couldn't hold it anymore. I was freaking out a bit, leaking in my pants, and in my squirming I accidentally knocked a stone loose in the floor. I managed to pull it out and I weed through the hole there, it just went into the dirt. Finally a guard heard my shouting and let me out. The girl who locked me in there was stripped, clapped in irons, and chained outside the castle all day. She pissed herself twice, in front of everyone, which amused the hell out of me...” “Where was I for all this?” Baeden asked with a chuckle. “I remember, actually. You were out on a hunt with the Senior Knights. Nobody told you about it?” “No, I would remember that,” Baeden said sadly. “I would have liked to see it.” “If you like, you can chain me up in your room and watch me do the same,” Marina offered with a smirk. “I would like that,” Baeden agreed. ********************** Part Seven - Name ********************** Two days passed since the approaching army was spotted on the horizon. The city was prepared for war, and all able men were armed and armored in preparation. Lunambra did not draft soldiers, rather all men were soldiers, trained from childhood. Such a small city could not afford to have weak men. Baeden awoke to a knock on his door. "My son, General Gaston calls for you. May I enter?" Baeden cursed and quickly threw his thick blanket over Marina's naked form. She was still asleep, and she gasped as he shoved her towards the back of the bed. She caught on quickly though, and stayed still and silent. "Enter," he called, covering himself with a sheet. The door creaked open, and Queen Jenara stepped in, already wearing the ornate red and black dress that female Royalty wore during wartime. "Are you prepared for today, Baeden? Your men stand ready on the walls, the ballistae are loaded, and the trenches are dug." "That is good news," Baeden said. "What does Gaston want with me?" "I've been told that an ambassador from Jarkan's army has approached the southern gate in the dead of night, and has been waiting there since. A woman who claims she is a sorceress, but you know how that goes. A bit of food dye in a glass of water and suddenly everyone thinks you're God's messenger. Anyway, she asks to speak with the military leader here. You had best answer her request." "Send word to the wall that I will arrive inside of thirty minutes," Baeden yawned. "Of course," Jenara confirmed. "Another thing, have you seen Marina anywhere? All the other serving girls are already in the treasury, and I had to put on my own dress, like an animal. I'll give her a thrashing for this..." Baeden felt the blanket behind him shift uncomfortably. "Please do not be angry at her, I sent her down to wash my best shirt just an hour ago. It is my fault." Jenara blinked and tilted her head. "She was in here? You are not even dressed." Baeden barked out a fake laugh. "No, she woke me by calling through the door, like you did. I told her last night that I would want my shirt washed, but she was tending to you and I had already fallen asleep by the time she came to pick it up and I did not awaken to unlock the door...I was exhausted from training. She is not to blame." "As you say," Jenara sighed. "If you see her on your way to the wall, send her to the treasury. I will be down there shortly as well." "Aye," Baeden agreed. Jenara stepped out and he could hear her heeled shoes clacking down the hall before fading into silence. He reached back and patted the blanket, and Marina's straight red hair poked out. "You are a bit too good of a liar," she chuckled. "Makes me wonder if anything you've told me before is horse shite." Baeden ran his hand through her hair. "The only thing I could never accurately explain to you is how much I love you, because there are no words in the English language strong enough to describe it." Marina moaned quietly and pressed her face against Baeden's shoulder. How he wished he could stay here with this amazing girl, but he had a duty. He rolled away and stood, and Marina stared at his manhood that stuck to his left leg. He strode to the chamberpot and held his member, ready to relieve himself in front of her. She stretched and stood, and began walking towards him to do the same. Suddenly, the chamber shook as a thunderous crash sounded from outside the walls. Baeden grasped Marina's arm, eyes wide. "Catapult fire. I thought I was supposed to speak with an ambassador! Get to the treasury, NOW!" Marina gave a fearful nod, pulling on her burlap clothes and sprinting from the chamber. Baeden rushed to his wardrobe, throwing on an undercoat and leather pants, and his personal suit of chainmail over it. If the attack had already started, there was no time for plate. He rushed from the room and thundered down the stairs, bolting across the courtyard and up the wooden steps to the inner wall. He followed the wall over the city, and finally he stood over the southern gate, which had been completely sealed shut, although this was impossible to see from the outside. No catapult fire had followed the first shot. Baeden leaned over the wall and saw her standing there, a thin, young woman in a green dress that draped over the floor beneath her. She was staring angrily at the top of the wall, leaning slightly forwards with her arms held in front of her. Baeden climbed onto the stone barrier, grasping Lunambra's flag for support. "MY NAME IS PRINCE BAEDEN, HEIR TO THE KINGDOM OF LUNAMBRA. YOU COME WITH SIEGE ENGINES AND AN ARMY, YET YOU STAND THERE AS THOUGH YOU SEEK PEACE. RETREAT, FOR YOU SHALL FIND NO PEACE HERE." The woman continued to stare at him. "My name is Kaitlen Marel, though I should not have to tell *you* that. I am the most powerful and feared sorceress on this continent, and if you will not hear my words, I will burn this city to the ground with no more than a thought." "If you could do that, why do you need the catapults, I wonder?" Baeden grinned as the woman's mouth curled into a frown. "Speaking of catapults, I heard one fire. What was that about?" "A simple test fire into the dirt next to the castle," Kaitlen spat. "The rest will be far more accurate." "Tell me what you want, witch," Baeden shouted. "I am a busy man, and have little time for games." "This can come to a peaceful solution," Kaitlen yelled back. "All our Lord asks is that you return the hundred kilometers of land you claimed from us thirty years ago. We must expand our farmlands and open new trade routes, and your old King has made it very difficult." Baeden went quiet. He was unaware that they had even claimed land from Jarkan in the past. He turned around and whispered to a guard; "Fetch my mother, she is likely in the treasury." The guard nodded and ran off. Baeden turned back to Kaitlen. "I must discuss things with my mother. Wait there until she arrives." Baeden blinked as she let out an exasperated sigh, leaning even further forwards. Baeden knew that stance, she was very desperate for a wee. He grinned even wider at this, but said nothing. It was twenty minutes until Queen Jenara stepped onto the wall. Kaitlen watched as the two remaining members of Lunambra's royal family whispered in each other's ears. Ten minutes passed, and she rubbed her thighs together, unseen under her dress. Finally, Baeden turned back to her. "As I am sure you know, Lunambra is allied with Valdus. The current monarchy has no interest in expanding to the south, you may have your land back without a struggle. No need to be summoning no hellfires, milady," he finished in a mocking accent. "This is great news," she said, ignoring his taunt. "I will inform our general with haste. But before that, and this is embarrassing to ask, but I wonder if I may be allowed into the city and given a private place to relieve myself. You have kept me waiting here since midnight, and I have had much water to fight off the heat." Baeden feigned deep thought for a moment. "I apologize, milady, but the gate has been sealed from the inside to defend against your siege. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't physically let you in." Baeden grinned even wider as her eyes suddenly grew fearful. "Is there no way in? I am in an urgent state." "No way, I'm afraid," Baeden quipped. "There's a patch of trees right there, it worked for Adam and Eve." "Where all your soldiers can look on my body? I think not." "If you are a sorceress, you can do something about it, eh? Teleport into the lake, or close up your holes down there, how's that work?" "Damn you!" Kaitlen shouted. "You are a...a shameful, embarrassing, menace! And I...I must be able to concentrate to use my magics!" "Well, sorry!" Baeden choked out, trying hard to stifle a laugh. "This is the best siege ever,” he whispered quietly to the nearest guard, who bent down to cough-laugh into his fist. "Guess you can try to make it back to your camp," he finished with an exaggerated shrug. Kaitlen let out a loud huff and turned around, slowly walking back down the road towards the catapults. Less than ten steps in, she froze. Baeden lowered his shield in front of him to hide his 'amusement' as a dark spot began to slowly spread in all directions from under her dress. She stood there for over a minute, and the wetness had spread five feet around her. Despite all this, she kept her head held high and she strode away, eventually disappearing over a hill. Her puddle had spread even further, and a line had formed, dripping off the road and into the grass. "Well, I guess that's the end of that," said the guardsman that stood beside him. "Should I send word for the women to be released from the treasury?" "No," Baeden said, his face growing slightly more serious. "Agreements made with ambassadors have failed before, there is still a chance of an attack. They will stay in there until the catapults are out of sight of the city." "Aye, as you say," the guard agreed. ************************* Part Eight - Treasury ************************* Marina jogged down the stone steps that led to the treasury. It took her a long time to get there, as she had only been through these halls once, and she lost her way a couple of times. A guard had pushed past her a minute ago, and she was following his lead. The guard showed up again just then, ascending the steps with Queen Jenara in tow. She gave Marina a quick nod and continued after the guard. Marina made it down the steps and saw another guardsman standing outside of the treasury door, and he unlocked it to let her through. She sat against the wall next to the door, and she waited for a long, long time. ***** Five hours passed since the catapult had fired, but there had been no sounds from outside after that. There was certainly no war raging above her. So why am I still trapped down here? She looked around the room at all the other women and girls, all nobles, servants, and wealthy civilians. As Baeden described three days before, everyone in the room was shifting about, squirming, and some were even holding themselves under their dresses. Marina was very full too, having missed her morning relief. But unlike many of these women, she was good at holding it in, and it did not bring her displeasure. She knew that the Prince and city were safe, and that let her focus on her surroundings. She slid her left hand into her burlap pants and pressed a finger along her flower, putting pressure on it. After all this time down here, the water barrel was nearly empty. It was only a matter of time, now. Twenty more minutes passed before the first victim showed herself. A young noble girl with long, jet-black hair and wearing an ornate gold dress grasped the arm of the woman next to her. “Mother, I truly cannot wait anymore. I am in such pain, and I...leak, with every breath I take.” “It is alright, Alyssa,” said the noblewoman. “I've been down here before, chances are that everybody here will have made water before we are released. How do you want to do it?” “I...I don't want people to see me down there,” the girl whimpered. Her mother just nodded and grasped the front of her dress, raising it slightly off the stone floor. Tears formed in the girl's eyes as a loud hissing started from between her legs, and a large puddle spread under her. She moaned her relief and leaned back against the wall. After that, the noblewoman started shaking her head. “Why bother,” she whispered. She reached under her long dress and tore her underclothes off, stuffing them down into her breasts. She hiked up the dress and squatted down, spraying her surprising supply of urine into the stone. “You are both disgusting,” another noblewoman said, staring at her with her nose crinkled. “Yes, and let us see how long you last in here, whore,” the girl's mother snapped. Ten minutes passed quietly, when Marina heard a soft cry beside her. She turned her head and saw a serving girl who tended to the kitchens, by the name of Layla. She had short blonde hair that was splayed against the stone, and bright green eyes that shone in the torchlight. Marina had met her before, but they had barely spoken beyond simple introductions. She was laying on her back with her feet against the wall and her spine arched with both hands on her belly. Marina shifted over and gently placed a hand on the desperate girl's leg. “Are you alright?” Marina whispered. Now that she was closer, she could see a very small wet patch on the crotch of Layla's pants. “Mmno,” she gasped out. “I have never been half this full, what am I going to do?” Marina tried hard not to smile. She knew exactly how the girl felt. “Would you like me to help you?” “What do you mean?” “If you've never weed outside of a chamberpot before, I can help set you up so you do not get any of it on you,” Marina answered. Layla's face went bright red. “I can't do that here, what is wrong with you?” Marina laughed out loud. “Two nobles just did it. Everyone else in here is going to, no matter if they want to or not. Trust me, when it's going to come out, there's nothing you can do to stop it. So you're better off letting go on your own terms and staying dry.” The girl began shaking her head. Marina sighed, reaching for Layla's waistband. She let out a quiet shriek and started to protest, and Marina saw the wet patch grow wider. With that, the serving girl bit her lip and leaned back again. Marina pulled Layla's pants down to about three inches below her womanhood, and then held the girl's knees, lifting them up and placing her feet right next to her rear. “Spread your legs,” Marina whispered. Layla was crying now, but she did as she was told. “Now listen to me, you're going to want to let it burst out, but you can't do that. You have to release it slowly or it will splash back and hit you, and make a puddle. You need to let it spray gently against the wall, and it will drip between the cracks and make no mess. Start to let it out.” Marina saw Layla's hard belly start to move about, but nothing came out of her. “I can't do it, I'm so embarrassed,” she said, pressing her hands between her legs. Marina grasped those hands and pulled them away, holding them tightly. “Just relax...close your eyes and imagine you are in your own room.” Ten seconds later, Marina saw a small stream start leaking out. She released Layla's hands and placed her own hands on the girl's belly, pressing down gently. The stream increased slightly, and soon hit the wall, dripping down through the cracks just as Marina thought it would. Looking around, Marina noticed that many of the trapped women had their eyes on the scene. A minute later, Layla was empty and had her pants back on. She was still beet-red and breathing heavily, but there was a smile on her face that could only follow such relief. Marina moved over and leaned back on her wall, squeezing her thighs together. To her amusement, over the next half hour, six women and girls had used her method to relieve themselves. One of them couldn't control it well enough, and she ended up laying in a puddle. Marina stood up. The weight of her bladder immediately pressed down on her, and she crossed her legs and leaned forwards. After it settled, she moved slowly around the room to stretch her legs. All the way in the back of the treasury, the crates that contained the city's gold and gems were stacked up a few feet away from the wall, leaving a gap large enough for a number of people. None of the other women seemed to have noticed it, they were all sitting near the door, hoping for escape. At least I might be able to piss myself in privacy, she thought. Marina looked around to ensure nobody was watching her, and she stepped behind the wooden crates. And then she froze. There was already a woman back here, her long cloth skirt pulled up over her breasts and both hands going to town between her legs. Marina's mouth fell open as she watched the unknown person getting herself off. Feeling bold, Marina stepped in and collapsed to the ground next to the girl. It took her a moment to realize she had company, but her eyes quickly went wide and she immediately pulled her hands to her sides. She was biting down on a strap of cloth to stifle any involuntary moaning, and the piece of fabric fell to the ground. Looking at her face, Marina recognized her as the stable girl that often rode with Queen Jenara, though she didn't know her name. “She told everyone to stay away from here,” the stable girl whimpered, her face reddening. “Who is 'she', I wonder?” Marina asked calmly. Putting herself in the girl's shoes, she knew that she wouldn't want a scene to be caused if she was caught doing that thing. “Nothing. Nobody. Who are you, anyway?” “My name is Marina. I'm a servant for Queen Jenara and Prince Baeden. I know you are a stable girl, but I fear I am unfamiliar with your name.” “It's Mary,” she said softly. “Thank you...for not shouting, I mean.” “It's no problem,” Marina offered. “I understand it.” “You do?” Mary asked. “Aye, suppose there's no point in hiding it since it's obvious you have the same, er, interests, as I do. All these women, soaking themselves and going freely. My interest is in men, but I will not judge you for enjoying otherwise.” Marina looked to the crates of gold. Two of them had been adjusted in such a way so people inside the small area could look out and get full view of the other women, but nobody could see in. “I hope you don't mind if I stay here. Seeing the other women lose control makes it harder for me to hold on.” Mary smiled. “That's alright with me-” “Marina?” Both of the secluded women started and sat up, seeing another standing over them. Marina recognized her quickly as Sabina, the woman that she and Baeden rescued from Olsha Fortress months ago, and who also carried a striking resemblance to Queen Jenara. “You're back,” Mary gasped. “Wait, no,” she sputtered, blinking up at Sabina. “What in the- Who are you?” Marina squinted at Mary. Could it be possible that she was shacked up back here with the Queen before she passed her on the stairs? That's not even worth thinking about,” Marina thought, shaking the mental image out of her head. “She's Sabina,” Marina answered for her. “She was held along with Queen Jenara at Olsha Fortress. The bandits mistook her for the Queen...an understandable mistake, obviously.” Sabina just nodded, and she spread out next to Marina. “We have a bit of a crowd back here, huh? The Queen told everyone to stay away from here or be banished, but I saw you come back here, and I'm an adventurer anyway. I love my home here, but I never planned to stay forever. Banishment would just move me on my way.” So it is true, Marina thought. The Queen is having relations with this stable girl. And I'm worried about spending time with Baeden? “What are you looking so mad about?” Sabina asked, staring into Marina's face. “Want me to get out of here?” Marina blinked and shook herself out of it. “No, please stay. I have more incentive to hold my water if there's people back here. I was just thinking of a bit of injustice I'm facing outside of this room, it is no matter.” “So you're desperate too,” Sabina sighed. “I knew that it might be a problem down here, but I wasn't expecting to feel like this so fast.” “Did you get to relieve yourself this morning?” Marina asked. “I did not, and I'm sure very few, if any, of the women here did either. Everyone was likely still sleeping when the catapult went off and the order to come down here was issued.” “I did not,” Sabina confirmed. “I'm good at holding it, I often had to travel with men in my past and that made it hard to find privacy. But this is a bad spot.” Sabina looked to Mary. “What about you? Are you full too?” Mary nodded, her face growing red again. “Bursting,” Mary said. “I'm glad you two are here, this is not something a girl should have to face alone.” Marina and Sabina both grunted in agreement. The three of them were pressed against each other in the small makeshift room, and Marina could feel the squirming of the two other women, and she was sure they could feel her's. I've never had any interest in women this way, and I'm not weeing myself quite yet, Marina thought, so why am I getting so wet down there? She reached between her legs and felt it, the sticky liquid that only resulted from excitement. Maybe...my enjoyment of holding it is not only limited to men. I know that I never wanted to lay with a woman, but their desperation is definitely turning me on. I know Mary is queer, but what of Sabina? Marina never planned on telling Sabina this. But if there was ever a proper moment, it was now. Marina rolled to her right and held her mouth close to Sabina's ear. “I know,” Marina whispered. “A few days ago, in the garden.” Sabina tensed up instantly, her face growing stoney. “You did not tell anyone?” “I did not,” Marina said. “Baeden was too distracted by me to notice you, but I spotted your hair inside that bush, and I saw what you were doing. Don't play coy, tell me the truth. Do you get off to the sight of women weeing?” Marina could feel Sabina's skin growing warm from embarrassment. “I never have before,” she whispered. “But seeing you riding the Prince like that, and then letting go over his hands...I had never seen anything like it, and it would be a lie to say that I did not love it.” Marina smiled and rolled onto her back again. “So that's it then” she announced to both of them. “All three of us are freaks. All three of us are desperate for a piss. And all three of us love it. I say there is no point in trying to remain proper. There is nothing at all to do for fun down here, and God knows how long we must remain. I vote we let go of what little shame we've got left, and we have some bloody fun.” *********************** Part Nine - Contest *********************** As soon as she finished her speech, she felt Mary's warm hand on her thigh. “That sounds good to me,” she whispered. “I don't have anything better to do,” Sabina said with a chuckle. “What are we going to do?” Mary lifted her head up from Marina's other side. “How about we have a contest? The last one to wee wins.” Marina smiled. “I like that idea. What shall the prize be?” “I think it would be fun if instead of a reward for winning, the losers get a penalty,” Mary said. If I start losing control, I'll step outside of the hidden area here, hike up my dress, and piss on the floor in front of everyone. If Sabina loses, since she's wearing leather pants and it wouldn't show either way, the winner gets to wee on her. If Marina loses, she has to stand and go through her pants so everyone on her way back to the servant's chambers can see what she did.” The two others thought for a while, before nodding in agreement. “What of other rules?” Sabina asked. “Are we allowed to hold ourselves? Can we touch each other?” “We can do whatever we need to in order to hold longer,” Marina said. “And touching is allowed, it will only add to the challenge and the fun. We are allowed do whatever we can to make the others lose control first.” “Aye,” Mary agreed. “I guess we're ready then...” Mary took no time in turning on her side and placing her left hand on Marina's chest. She rubbed her breast through the burlap, but Marina swatted her hand away quickly and tore the shirt off, placing it on one of the crates of coin. Mary leaned over and began licking at Marina's hardened nipple, pressing it into her breast with her tongue. Marina pressed up between her legs with her right hand, letting her left wander to the front of Mary's dress. She pulled the fabric up and felt her way to the girl's flower, gently rubbing her middle finger along the tight slit. Mary's legs slammed shut, but Marina simply maneuvered her finger to enter Mary, and she pressed against the rough spot two inches inside. “Oh God,” Mary moaned, rubbing her thighs over Marina's hand. Seconds later, Marina felt her right hand getting pulled from its spot. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, and felt Sabina slide her own hand under Marina's drawstring and into her burlap pants. Sabina tickled at the tip of her womanhood, flicking it with her thumb and rubbing the outside of Marina's vagina with her pointer finger. Marina returned the favor, pulling Sabina's drawstring loose and forcing the leather pants farther down her legs. Soon, all three of them were feeling the pleasure, and all thee of them were feeling their mounting desperation. Mary had her face pressed into Marina's breasts to stifle her sounds, and Sabina was biting down on a chunk of her shirt. Marina needed no crutch, as bedding the Prince had forced her to develop the ability to keep quiet no matter how much pleasure she felt. Marina smiled down at Mary. The younger girl was writhing about, her protruding belly visible under her blouse. Marina gently slid her finger out of Mary and moved her hand up, pressing lightly on the girl's solid bladder. She bit her lip and scrunched up her face, but did nothing to stop Marina as she poked and prodded. Sabina saw what was going on, and took the opportunity to hold herself while Marina was distracted. Mary's eyes suddenly went wide, and she grasped Marina's arm. “Stopstopstopstop-” Marina grinned wickedly and pushed through Mary's grip with her superior strength, turning onto her side to embrace the stable girl. With one hand on Mary's left breast and the other on her belly, Marina pulled in and held her there, kissing the side of Mary's neck. Marina heard Mary release a strained moan, and she felt a hard burst of wetness spray against her leg. “She's losing it,” Marina whispered to Sabina. “You made the rules Mary, get out there.” Marina stumbled to her feet, clamping her legs shut, and helped Mary up. “I don't want to,” Mary pleaded. “I thought I could last long-” Sabina stepped forwards and pushed Mary's shoulder, and the girl stumbled out from behind the crates with a yelp. She shoved her hands and the front of her dress between her legs and bounced in place, looking helplessly to the two other women who blocked the way back into privacy. All the other women in the room had turned towards her. “I can't hold it in,” Mary whimpered seconds later. She opened her legs and pulled her dress up, and the flood found its way through her underclothes and splattered onto the stone floor. She exhaled in pure ecstasy and leaned on the wall as she felt the warm liquid surge out of her small body, spreading down her legs and heating her cold feet. The attention that Marina had given her, combined with the sudden relief, was too much for Mary's body to handle. The pulses started in the pit of her stomach, and she had to shove her hand over her mouth as she came where she stood. She managed to effectively disguise it as crying, and she barely made it back behind the crates before her legs gave out and she fell back next to Marina. Sabina smiled at Mary, reaching past Marina and stroking her hair. Mary was sleepily kissing Marina's chest, but now that she had her relief, Marina had lost interest in the girl. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Marina allowed Mary to continue handling her body as she looked over to Sabina. “It's just you and me now,” she mouthed. “How do you feel?” The older woman smiled. “I feel like I am about to give birth to a lake. My cunt is quivering and throbbing, and each breath I take is a battering ram besieging my womanly gate.” Marina would have laughed, if she didn't know it would spell defeat for her. “Very poetic,” she said mockingly. “How do you feel, then?” Sabina asked. “It's hard to describe,” Marina whispered. “It's as though I've gone beyond regular desperation. The throbbing pain is gone, the pressure no longer comes in waves. Holding myself doesn't help anymore, and neither does shutting my legs. It's just a constant, overwhelming fullness that has taken over my whole body and mind. My muscles are the only thing keeping it in at this point.” Sabina had started pleasuring herself half way through Marina's description. “Where did a servant girl learn how to hold her wee that well? I always thought you castle-dwellers had no worry of this.” “You saw me with Baeden,” Marina said. “We've been engaging in this sort of fun since our little adventure at Olsha. Every few days he makes me hold on until I burst in my dress. Usually I just sort of...decide to let go, before the pain gets too great. But it seems to have strengthened me down there. Would you like to feel it?” Sabina's face went red. “Yes, I would,” she mumbled into Marina's ear. She felt Sabina's warm hand on her thigh, and soon it was pressing against her womanhood. She straightened her legs as Sabina's middle finger found its way in, and Sabina giggled as she felt the powerful contractions around it. “That's amazing,” Sabina gasped softly. “I'm surprised how good you are at this, but you should not underestimate me. I still have some time left.” “Holding my piss is not the only thing Baeden has been teaching me,” Marina whispered. “What else, then?” “A number of things. How to behave like a Lady when I need to, how to repair armor and weapons, how to fight with sword and spear. Also, he's taught me quite a bit of wrestling.” Sabina sensed that something was about to happen before she really understood what. She lurched a second too late as Marina's legs twisted around her soaking wet hand, locking it in place. “THIS IS CHEATING-” But Sabina had no chance as Marina rolled, pulling Sabina over onto her stomach. One maneuver later, and Marina was nearly sitting on Sabina's back, facing her backside and holding her legs in place. Spreading her legs a tiny bit further, Marina's full weight was on Sabina. “Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh GOD!” Sabina moaned in agony, just before the hissing sound reached Marina's ears. Sabina stopped writhing, and Marina watched the woman's 'lake' flow freely from her privates, her leather pants still down past her knees. Mary scrambled to her feet and moved away from the rapidly spreading puddle, watching the thick, nearly clear stream surge out of Sabina. Marina leaned forwards and found Sabina's hole, sliding her thumb inside the woman and pushing hard on that special spot. Sabina bucked like a horse, gasping and moaning freely into the open air. Everyone knows what's going on back here, no point in worrying about it now, Marina thought. They've all wet themselves too, I'm sure that they would rather forget this entire ordeal than complain about us. A few moments later, Sabina's legs started shaking violently as she still flowed, and Marina felt the tightening and wetness that only accompanied a powerful orgasm. Removing her hand from the woman's privates, she saw the slick white liquid coating her thumb. She washed it off in Sabina's stream, holding her hands there until she trickled to a stop after a total of nearly two minutes. “You're a bitch,” Sabina wheezed into the stone floor. “How did you do that without soaking yourself too?” Marina slid off of Sabina's back, laying next to her. “Baeden taught me how to hold it in, and how to wrestle. There was quite a bit of both combined as well. The secret is to keep your back straight and not let your legs fold up and press on your belly. And now, I believe I get to wee on you.” Marina already had her pants around her ankles and was lowering into a squat. Do you want it on your chest, or between your leg-” KLA-THUNK All three women froze as the sound of heavy wood hitting stone echoed around the treasury. Marina forced herself to her feet again, leaning forwards with her legs slightly apart. A man's voice rang out to them. Prince Baeden's voice. “The siege engines have moved away from the city, and we have come to a peaceful solution. You are all free to go home. I know that many of you must feel embarrassed, but I understand how things work down here, so I've brought a crate of thick, dry towels. Use them as you see fit before returning to the castle. Marina stumbled out from behind the crates. Baeden's eye instantly caught her red hair flickering in the torchlight, and he smiled at her. Glancing around the room, she saw that she was the only woman who had stayed dry. All the others were still scattered about the treasury, some sitting in their own puddles, others were standing naked from the waist down, their wet pants folded in their arms, and still more were huddled in the corners, trying to avoid all the wetness. These must have been the women who chose to relieve themselves freely, as none of them were squirming or otherwise showing signs of fullness. Looking to Baeden, she saw a stance that she was very familiar with. He was standing with his legs at shoulder-width with his cuirass unbuckled, leaning back with his hands gripped in fists at his side and his abdomen protruding forwards. He was just as desperate as she was, if not more. She started crossing the treasury as smoothly as she could, her legs together and her arms out in a strained, ladylike stride. Marina noticed that only two of the women were using the towels to dry themselves off, all the others just wanted to get home as quickly as possible. She reached Baeden, and she stood beside him as the women filed out of the treasury. As soon as the last one was out, Baeden turned and slammed the heavy lock. Marina had noticed that Sabina and Mary were not among them, and she remembered how they could see out of the concealed spot through a gap in the crates. She smiled again, ready to give them the show of their lives. She turned to face Baeden, grasping his manhood through his velvet pants and kissing him passionately. He returned the kiss, then sniffed. “You smell like sex,” he whispered to her. “That should be no surprise. I've watched countless women wee themselves while I myself held on. I would be lying to say that I am not more excited than I have ever been.” “I am proud of you, Marina,” Baeden whispered to her. “You have no crutch to fall back on like men do. You held it all in with your own strength.” Marina held herself against Baeden's chest. “It's all thanks to you.” She fell to her knees and tore at his drawstring, letting the velvet fall to the ground. He was not soft, but not fully hard either. She watched it quiver and vibrate with his desperation, and she took it in her right hand, giving the tip a light lick. He moaned quietly, and she watched as a tiny drop leaked out of him. He caught himself and stepped out of the pants, grasping at his manhood. “You said you wanted to have me like you did our first night together,” she whispered. “I am far fuller than I was back then. So let us get on with it, before we both add to this puddle.” ********************* Part Ten – Limits ********************* “Grab the dry towels and let's go towards the back of the room where it's more dry,” Marina said. Baeden nodded and slowly made his way to the crate, pulling the mass of thick towels out of it and throwing them around his shoulders. They gingerly walked across the silent treasury until they were just a few feet away from the wall of crates. Marina glanced stealthily at it, spotting the gap between them that Sabina and Mary were surely watching intently from. She stared right into it, and winked. She smiled as she heard a tiny giggle. “Enjoy,” she mouthed. Baeden was spreading the towels over the stone floor, layering them thick to create the best cushion he could manage. Soon he was finished, and Marina kneeled down on the towels. Baeden did the same, and they stared into each other's eyes. “Are you alright?” Baeden asked. “You are really still and quiet for someone so full. If you lost control down here, you can tell me. I won't be upset.” Marina reached out, taking Baeden's right hand and pulling it onto her belly. It was as hard as the castle walls, and as round as a guard's helmet. “I'm fine. Just too full to bother talking about it. It feels like my whole body has locked up.” “That's how I felt the night I met you, when we were resting under the trees. I never did thank you for that night, for allowing me to relieve myself with my pride intact. I was likely going to wet myself any second...I was really afraid.” He reached out his other arm and embraced Marina, holding her closer to him. She could feel his warmth, radiating out from his desperate body. “You don't have to thank me,” she breathed. “I just wanted to see you do it so badly. You watched me wet myself, you took my clothes off, and I wanted to make it even.” She slowly leaned back, and he helped her down into the pile of towels. He grasped the waist of her burlap pants and slid them down her legs, tossing them aside. He watched as she spread her legs, her huge bulging belly showing under her burlap shirt. She untied said shirt, pulling it off and wadded it behind her head like a pillow. Baeden's shirt was next, the royal red flashing through the air before it landed near her pants. His organ was at full attention now, despite his desperation. She frowned, somewhat sad at the thought that she could never see him truly lose control like this. Was this even true, though? Surely if he was full enough, and if there was enough pressure, his body would surely have to let it out to save him from harm? She shook the thought away for now. He was leaning over her, breathing heavily, sweat gathering on his chin. “Take me now,” Marina moaned. Baeden did not need to be told twice. He grasped his manhood and guided it into Marina's soaked privates, pushing it into her to the very base of the shaft. He could feel her contracting and shaking from the inside, and he could even feel the weight of her bladder pushing down on his member. He stiffened his legs and thrust into her again, and she wrapped the blankets in her fists, squeezing them tightly. Each thrust rocked her backwards, and she could see her belly bouncing with Baeden's motions. She held it in though, timing her own movements so his body pressed right against her wee hole. They made love for twenty minutes, in every position they knew. He took her from behind, holding her bladder with his hands. She rode him for a long time, leaning forwards to kiss him as he held her breasts. She got off a total of seven times, spraying sex over Baeden's legs with each quivering orgasm. Eventually though, Baeden grasped her hips and lifted her off of him, laying her on the towels beside him. “I'm about to finish” he whispered. “I don't know how I've held off this long. I wish I could do it inside of you without the risk of pregnancy.” “It is alright, my love,” she whispered. “It is better off this way, because there is something I wish to see.” “And what is that?” Baeden asked. Marina grinned at him. She turned on her side, grasping his slick staff tightly with her left hand. She stroked it gently, blushing as it throbbed and pulsed in her hand. “You say that men cannot relieve themselves while they are hard,” she said. “I do not believe that. You just have to be full enough. I think you are...I want you to push on your belly as hard as you can while I pleasure you.” She wasted no time, tugging at him while she kissed and licked at it. He just went stiff. “Do it, my Prince,” she begged. “Push in on it with all your strength.” He opened his mouth to argue, but let out a gasp of pleasure as she circled his tip with her tongue. His hands slammed onto his belly, and he pushed in, massaging it and pressing down with his large hands. Marina smiled as his cock immediately grew even harder, fighting against her hand. She kneeled up and began sucking on it, still stroking the base with her right hand. “I can't,” Baeden gasped. “It just won't come out.” Marina let go of his rod, reaching her hand across both of his. She leaned to her right, putting half her weight on top of Baeden's own pressure. He screamed out loud, and she felt it happen before she could get clear. Her mouth instantly filled with the hot liquid, and she fell backwards as he burst all over himself. “Yes,” she hissed, watching the golden stream spray high into the air. She only hesitated a second before she climbed on top of him again, forcing him back into herself. It was the best feeling in the world, his warmth spreading all through her privates and into her body. As this happened, it was like a switch flipped inside of her. The metaphorical 'lock' that she felt earlier split open, and all the throbbing pressure and pain returned full-force. She screamed and sat straight, letting Baeden's manhood fall onto his belly. He cut off the stream as he watched her stand up, crushing her legs together and forcing her hands between them. She bounced and gasped, moaned and doubled over. Tidal waves of pressure crashed against her soaking, compressed flower. Her fingers grew slick as spurts started forcing their way out of her, despite her greatest efforts to hold on. Baeden grabbed his cock and started weeing again, directing it between her legs. It was the final straw, and her dam burst open. She came once more as she relieved herself over her lover. She went completely limp, sitting back down on Baeden, gasping at the ceiling as her body twitched involuntarily from the relief. She could see her own liquids spreading across his chest and dripping down his neck, the pressure spraying her wee with great force. She took him into her again, rocking back and forth, their waters mixing in their bout of passion. He suddenly tensed up, thrusting further into her, and reaching up to grab at her arm. He tugged weakly at it, and she felt another jolt in her womanhood. She frowned, looking into Baeden's eyes. He looked drained and exhausted, but she could see concern and worry in him too. And then she understood. He had his pleasure inside of her. She had not given him much choice in the matter. She smiled as she leaned forwards and kissed him. “It is alright, my Prince. I want to leave here soon. If I grow with child, it will only move me on my way. You know I always planned on leaving.” Baeden just nodded as he continued to soak the towels beneath them. Marina stood up as she still relieved herself, and it fell onto Baeden's organ. It was an altogether beautiful sight, two beautiful people doing the most beautiful deed. They both finished at the same time, and Marina leaned against the wall, rubbing herself between her legs. “With all this wee, it would be a miracle if you actually got pregnant,” Baeden said finally. “I'm sure it was all washed out of there.” Marina nodded. “Probably. We'll find out in about a week, either way.” “What happens in a week?” “I get my...you know,” she said, blushing. “Don't make me say it.” “Oh,” Baeden coughed. “Yes, I suppose we'll know then. I put spare clothes in the bottom of the towel crate. Let's change and get back to the castle.” They stood up and changed, and they both left the treasury together. Marina glanced over her shoulder to make sure the outside lock stayed open, and soon they were on the staircase back to the castle. ****** Still laying in Sabina's puddle, red-faced and astonished, both with their fingers inside themselves, Mary and Sabina looked at each other. “Holy hell,” they whispered together. ***************************************************************************** NOTE: Some of the comments in Book One stated a desire for more Fear Wetting. I apologize to these people, but the small amount of fear wetting in Book One was simply a realistic byproduct of the situations presented in the story. This story contains no fear, and as a result of that, no fear wetting.
  20. Full on the Firefly 2 - Zoe "We've got an incoming Alliance transmission," Wash stated into the cockpit's intercom. "What do they want?" Malcolm Reynold's voice buzzed back. There was a very long pause. "Wash?" "They say there's been a rush of smugglers trying to enter atmo carrying weapons and slaves," Wash finally answered. "They won't let us through without a full inspection of Serenity." "Well," Mal sighed, "this here is one of the few times we actually have nothing illegal on board. Simon and River are already planetside with Inara, so let them on. I'll meet them at the door." Wash shrugged and lit Serenity's beacon. Twenty minutes later, the Alliance cruiser had docked with Serenity. Wash leaned back in the pilot's seat, turning his head as the cockpit door hissed open. Zoe stepped into the cockpit with a grin on her face and a massive bottle of red wine in her hand. "Hey honey," she said. "Not going to greet the guests?" Wash asked with a smile. "You know I can barely stand to look at them," Zoe sighed. "Besides, these inspections take hours. It would be a great time to enjoy this fine bottle of Persephone Red, wouldn't you say?" Wash let out a barking laugh. "How did you get that? We couldn't afford a bottle of Persephone if we robbed every bank in the 'Verse. What is that? And be honest." "It's the real deal," Zoe said, her voice growing happier. "Stole it on the last job. Figured we had better finish it off before the Feds see it, then send it out the airlock. It's too small to register on their radar." Wash shrugged and spun the co-pilot's seat around with his foot, and Zoe settled into it. She pressed a button on the neck of the bottle of wine, and the lid slid open with a satisfying 'Pssshhht'. With a "Cheers," she downed a large gulp. "Pressurized lid, eh? Fffffaaaaannn-cy," Wash said sarcastically, taking the bottle from Zoe and having his own swig. Zoe began her retort right before the intercom started buzzing again. "Wash, the Alliance wants all bulkheads sealed while they go room-to-room for inspection. Suppose they don't want no surprises. You alright in there for a while?" "Hell yes, Cap. Got me some wine and a wife. Pilot life is good right here," Wash confirmed cheerfully. "Closing all doors now." He reached under his console and pulled the long, red handle. The whole ship jolted quickly, and the door slammed shut with a click. Zoe stood up and turned, settling into Wash's lap. He lifted his legs and rested them in the copilot chair, and he handed the bottle to Zoe for another great chug. "This 昂贵的泔水is better than I thought it would be," she coughed. "You gonna leave some for me, sweetie?" Wash asked, looking over her shoulder. "Ah, if I feel like it." She leaned back and kissed him, and they were both extremely comfortable. This comfort lasted for three hours, when the giant bottle finally ran dry. Zoe was one step short of drunk; no matter how much she had, it never fully showed. She could always stand steady and shoot with pinpoint accuracy, but instead her drunkeness always manifested in unquenchable horniness. This was showing itself in the form of her bouncing up and down on Wash's legs, grinding against his considerable bulge. "Honey," Wash said slowly, "if you're going to keep on like that, I just might need new pants. I don't suppose you would be willing to let me get these ones off first?" "What?" Zoe mumbled distractedly. "Oh, 为了神的爱, I'm not even thinking about that. I just really need to get at the toilets." "Well that's unfortunate," Wash quipped. He barely felt the need to go, a pilot's bladder was huge and she had drank a LOT more than him. "Just hold out a little longer, they have to be leaving soon." "Yeah," she said simply. She continued bouncing on Wash's lap for a long time, and then she gasped, leaning forwards. Wash was literally right on the verge of getting off on himself at this point. While he respected his wife's predicament, the friction alone was enough to do it. "Zoe, you really need to not be rubbing on me like that. You're doing things to my regions." "克服它, Wash. I have to be sitting on something hard or I'm really going to have a problem. Your leg is the only thing helping me out right now." "Alright, hang on," Wash sighed. "Can you stand up for just a second?" She forced herself to her feet, crossing her legs tightly and holding her arms out to her sides. He quickly bent over and picked up the empty wine bottle, setting it on the co-pilot's chair. "Sit on that for now. I'm gonna see what I can do about your problem." "Thanks," she moaned, positioning herself on the bottle and pressing the hard material between her legs. Wash nodded and stepped over to the intercom, pushing the yellow button in. "Cap, you there?" "What is it?" Mal came back. "There's a bit of an emergency here. We need to open bulkheads through to the crew quarters." "What kind of emergency?" Mal inquired, rather fairly. Wash looked at Zoe and winced. "Are you alone?" "No," Mal answered. "Got the Feds with me, and Jayne and Book too." "Well, there's a possibility of a small fluid leak," Wash said. "We need the doors open, you know that the systems will go haywire if water gets through the floor grates," he finished, looking seriously at Zoe. Her eyes were shut, and she was holding one hand between her legs and one on her belly. Mal's voice was a whisper now. "Wash, if the doors open, guns are gonna come out. You know I ain't afraid of any fight, but think hard: Is whatever problem you have worth a battle on my boat and the following escape with Inara and the doc still planetside? And remember, we've barely any food left, that's why we're here." "他妈的,马尔科姆,我们真正需要帮助的, but no, it's not worth that. Keep doing what you're doing, but please hurry." "Wash," Zoe exhaled. "This is horrible, I'm really going to have an accident here. I feel so weak. Normally I can hold in a lot, but with the wine..." "Zoe, I'm so sorry, but you can NOT pee here. If liquid gets through the floor, it will fry the whole cockpit. It would take me and Kaylee a week to fix, and we ain't got food for that." "What am I supposed to do," she whimpered, tears starting to form in her eyes. "It's so close, I've never felt like this before." This startled Wash. In all their time together, he had never seen Zoe cry. He doubted she would cry at his own death. "Get your pants off, you can go in the wine bottle," Wash said quickly, feeling stupid that he hadn't thought of it earlier. "Nnooo," she moaned. "All of the top-shelf Central liquors and wines seal themselves when emptied, to prevent bootleggers from using the bottle to sell their trash as counterfit." Wash ran over and stared at the lid of the bottle. It appeared to almost have melted together. "Maybe if I break it, one half will stay intact and you can pee in there?" "I'VE ALREADY THOUGHT OF ALL THIS!" Zoe shouted. "The bottle is SynthDiamond, it wouldn't break if you landed Serenity on it. I'm really going to wet myself in here. I'm so sorry, Wash..." Wash stepped forwards and knelt in front of her. She did not protest as he pulled her shirt out of her waistband and unbuckled her belt, then undid her button and zipper. Her belly immediately protruded out, its shadow spreading over the light gray shorts she wore as underwear. He had tried numerous times to convince her to wear something prettier down there, and every attempt had been met with: "No. If I ever wake up in a fight, I don't want to be shooting guns at people while wearing pink and frillies." His latest try had also recieved a loud: "And don't ask again." "That helps a little," Zoe breathed. She gently rubbed the hard, round bulge of her bladder. "I'm going to try to stand up. Get the pants all the way off, so when I lose it I can at least walk out of here with a little dignity." With her legs quivering, she got to her feet. Wash gently slid the tight pair of beige pants off of her, and she gingerly stepped out of them. He folded them and placed them on the cockpit, and she got back on top of the bottle. As soon as she put her weight on it, she screamed out loud. "Zoe, are you okay?" Wash asked loudly, placing a hand on her leg. She shook her head, and she was twitching all over. "I've lost control. It's started to come out of my bladder and it really hurts...all my nerves down there are pushed against the bottle and I can feel the pee pushing against it. If I stand up again, or even move, it's just going to come out. My weight is the only thing keeping it in now. This can't be healthy." Wash placed his head on her shoulder. He wanted to be a good husband, he wanted to tell her to just sit up and piss right where she was. But the fact remained that if she did so, the crew wouldn't eat for over a week. Mal would die before he asked the Alliance ship for food or repair assistance. So she had to hold. Her shoulder was heaving, and he could see her stomach throbbing with her breathing. And then one last idea formed in his head, the only possible thing he could do. He stood and began tearing his shirt off, not even bothering with the buttons. They clattered to the floor as he bundled the cloth up into a tight ball and knelt down in front of his tortured wife. "Listen to me, Zoe. I'm going to push my shirt up against you. Start peeing slowly, but you HAVE to stop once it starts dripping. Will you be able to do that?" "I...think so," she panted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Of course I am," Wash said solidly. "You're my wife and you need me. I can't help you much in a fight, but I'll be damned if I can't help you pee," he finished heroically. She smiled at him with a look of respect that people rarely earned from her. She placed her hands on the armrest of the chair and sat up, and Wash saw her shorts get instantly soaked. He shoved his shirt between her legs and held it there tightly, and soon he felt warm wetness fill his hands. He rotated the shirt, keeping the driest parts pushed against her, until it was nearly saturated. "Zoe, stop now," he said. She let out an agonized groan, then started breathing heavily. He lowered the soaked shirt, and stared at the small drops of pee that fell from her darkened shorts. They landed on the bottle and slid down the glass before settling into the chair. She pressed back onto the bottle, still looking very worried. "It's a lot better. At least I have control again. But I'm still bursting. If I start again, it can be my shirt that time." "Then my pants," Wash said with a smile. "Then I can tell them that I'm the one who wet myself, to protect your honor." "My hero," she moaned sardonically. Time passed, about thirty minutes of it. Wash had almost dozed off when he felt Zoe shaking his arm. He blinked awake, and she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but her bra. Her underwear was wadded next to her pants, and her coat was bundled in her right hand, with her left held hard between her legs. Tiny drops of pee were leaking from her privates, falling on a sheet of solid steel floor between grates. "I'm losing it again," she whispered. "I tried to do it myself, but I can't see it clearly and I don't want it to leak-" "Tsssst," said the intercom. "Wash, they're coming for the cockpit now. Be ready.” Wash squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “Zoe, you've got to get your clothes back on. Just for a minute while they check the cockpit.” She silently turned to the pile of clothes, and Wash grabbed the empty bottle of Persephone Red and ran to the small airlock within the cockpit. It's purpose was as a last line of defense against a breach, the pilot of the Firefly equipping a breathing apparatus from beneath the console and venting the cockpit, killing the invaders. The apparatus had never been used, and the airlock was effectively a glorified garbage can. There were electronics inside of it, so Zoe peeing into it was no option, but it would get rid of the bottle. He stuffed the glass jug into the small hole, placing his shirt on top of it and he slammed the button, sending it off with a 'fwhump' seconds before the door opened. Wash turned around to see Zoe already back in her clothes. She had somehow forced the pants closed over her bladder, and her face was soaked with sweat. She was leaning forwards and rocking her hips with her legs slightly apart. She stood silently, staring angrily at the three Alliance men who had entered the small cockpit. They wandered around, looking under the console, under the chairs, inside the airlock, and along the walls. One of them patted down Wash, then turned to Zoe. He got within three feet of her, then stopped. “What's wrong with you, woman?” he asked, looking at her strange stance and sweaty face. “Flu,” she hissed. “Bah,” the Alliance man spat, turning on his heel. The three stormed out, and the bulkhead slammed shut behind them. “Wash,” Zoe choked out. “It's happening.” Wash spun around and looked at her, seeing darkness slowly spreading down her legs in small spurts. He jogged forwards and held her, forcing his right hand between her legs and pushing up with all his strength. He felt her labia through the pants, and he pinched them together, hard. She gasped out loud and buried her face in his chest. “Wash, please no, it hurts too badly. It has to come out. Please just let me pee.” He gently stroked her hair with his left hand. “You're a soldier, Zoe,” Wash whispered. “I will not soften my words. I cannot let you do that in this cockpit. You've always been willing to risk yourself to protect this crew, and this is no different. If I have to hold you shut with my own hands until I can open this door, I will. Simon will fix you up if he needs to. Do you understand this?” She was sobbing now, but she nodded. They stood like this for ten minutes. Wash tried to stay strong, to do what needed to be done, but his empathy for his wife was winning out. “Zoe,” he started, “I'm going to let go of you. If you wet yourself, I will not be angry with you. People have gone longer than a week without food, and I can't cause you any more pain.” With that, he pulled his hand from her. He expected an immediate waterfall, but somehow she was containing it on her own. She had a thousand-yard stare, looking helplessly out the window at the planet that they needed so badly to reach. She stood like that for two more minutes, until the intercom started up again. “They're gone,” Mal's voice came through. “Doors can open up now.” Wash ran to the device and slammed the button in. “Cap, get up here and make sure nobody follows you. I need you to stand guard.” “Will you tell me what the hell is happening up there?” his voice came back. “Malcolm, please. You'll find out in a minute, but we need help now.” “On my way,” Malcolm said, and the intercom went quiet. Wash slammed the switch for the bulkheads and they hissed open, and Zoe followed him out into the hall with slow, pained steps. "It hurts. It hurts, really hurts," she was muttering. "You're so close, honey," Wash said encouragingly. "A couple dozen feet more." At that, Malcolm stepped into the hallway ahead. He looked curiously at them, and his eyebrows raised when he saw Zoe. Her bladder was fuller than Mal's ego, and it would be obvious to anyone that saw her. "Well, that explains it," he said. "Come on, toilets are empty and everyone is in the mess hall finishing off what little food is left. Kaylee was squirming around quite a bit but she insisted on having a video call with the doc in the engine room, so that's her problem." Zoe kept shuffling forwards, and was almost at the turn to the bathroom when another voice piped up around the corner. "Git outta my way, Mal, I've gotta piss like a ruttin' racehorse." Jayne Cobb barged into the hall, forcing his way past a struggling Malcolm and staring towards the toilets. And then he bumped hard into Zoe. She stumbled and hit a wall, and Jayne stopped to look at her. "Sorry Zo-huh?" With her face in her hands, she was completely flooding her beige pants. It burst from her crotch in surges, splattering onto the steel floor and spreading into a long puddle. She was peeing so hard that it wasn't even spreading down her legs, just spraying directly through the fabric. Her legs went limp and she leaned her weight against the wall, giving up entirely. The floor in the hallway was solid steel with no grates or electronics, so despite her humiliation, she could let it all out with no actual consequences. The three men stood in a row, staring dumbfounded at her. She went on with the powerful stream for a long time, but soon it slowed down and started snaking down her pants and spilling from her ankles. The puddle was massive, Mal and Jayne stepping back to avoid it. She finished soon then, drops still leaking into the puddle, and her legs still shaking. Wash stepped into her puddle and embraced her, looking into her face. Her mouth was slightly open as she breathed slowly, and her eyes were a haze of pure relief. The silence was broken by a chuckle from Jayne. "Zoe, are you some kind of-" Malcolm had his sidearm out and leveled to Jayne's gut before he could finish his sentence. "You say one more word about what happened here, in sleight of Zoe or to any of the others, I'll have you in the airlock b'fore you can blink. We in agreement?" Jayne scowled but nodded, pushing Mal's weapon away and storming into the bathroom. "I'll clean this up," Wash said softly. "Mal, please get her to her room." Malcolm nodded and Zoe stepped out of her puddle, and Mal held her shoulder as she walked slowly through the hall. Wash opened the closet next to the bathroom and took out the mop and a roll of towels, turning around just in time to see Zoe stepping into their room. Jayne came out of the bathroom and walked past him without a word, and Wash got to work cleaning the puddle.
  21. View File Personal record. 21 Hours Hold. Peeing in measuring cup I am so relieved ? right now and happy to announce that I've broke my personal best. I have been holding my morning pee since I woke up (10.5 hours ago). Last pee was just shy of 21hrs ago. I peed in a measuring cup when I felt the first spurt leak into my pants. 21Hrs hold... 1.4L pee If you want the full desperation story, visit Wetting Experiences -> Live action Omorasgi - Pages 1089 - 1096. Live ordeal starting here Warning Contains male nudity Submitter Despholder Submitted 01/31/2018 Category Peeing  
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    I am so relieved ? right now and happy to announce that I've broke my personal best. I have been holding my morning pee since I woke up (10.5 hours ago). Last pee was just shy of 21hrs ago. I peed in a measuring cup when I felt the first spurt leak into my pants. 21Hrs hold... 1.4L pee If you want the full desperation story, visit Wetting Experiences -> Live action Omorasgi - Pages 1089 - 1096. Live ordeal starting here Warning Contains male nudity

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  23. This is a piece I wrote for someone, just thought of sharing it here for the ladies who might be interested. Apologies if it is not good enough. Happy New Year 2018 to all! Enjoy! ---- Athena, The Lady of Thesox loved watching men desperate to pee. All her life, she had dreamt of controlling a man’s piss. Having absolute authority over a man’s bladder. After her husband, the lord passed away, leaving behind five children in her safety, Athena had found herself busy with the duties of being a mother and the lady of a vast kingdom. But now that her children were busy with themselves, it left Athena with the time to explore her fantasies. Lady Athena declared an open challenge, “I hereby declare that I will award a large castle and a beautiful wife to any man who would dare to accept my challenge of holding his piss until I give him the discretion to release his waters...” The word spread like wildfire through the country, but no man dared to accept the challenge. Several days passed but to Lady Athena’s great dismay, no one stepped up to confront her. But then, a fortnight later, a man named Malcolm visited her castle. “I accept your challenge!” he said. “Oh, but remember, once you participate, you can only quit if I give you the permission, and not before” Lady Athena smirked. “I accept your challenge my lady” Malcolm said, “I have a large bladder.” “Very well then, the challenge will start tomorrow, get a good night’s sleep” she said, “I shall see you in the morning.” Malcolm was shown to his chambers by the servants. The next morning, when Malcolm visited the grand hall of the castle, he found Lady Athena already waiting for him there, with a large tub of lukewarm water that had vapours of steam rising from it. “From today on, each day, you’ll drink a hundred and ninety litres of water in the morning. An elephant drinks this much in the entire day, so I guess it will be good for you as starters” Athena smiled haughtily, almost expecting Malcolm to be shocked at the amount she had mentioned but the man stood defiant. Gulping the lump in his throat, he began drinking from the tub with the help of a jug. And after two hours of continuous drinking, the man was finished with the tub. “Looks like you have finished it all! Good, that’ll ready you for a big pee” Lady Athena smiled. It was true, Malcolm’s stomach felt bloated with all the water and he knew, such a large quantity would make him piss like an elephant. But he wasn’t worried. With his bladder capacity, needing to pee was never an issue. Lady Athena and Malcolm spent the morning in the church and during the lunch hours, she had her servants serve Malcolm with sixty litres of hot barley tea. That was too much liquid going inside his bladder and Malcolm was beginning to get worried if he’d be able to hold it till Lady Athena wanted him to. But with hesitation, he drank down all the tea given to him and hoped it wouldn’t make him want to pee badly. But while Lady Athena was enjoying the desperation Malcolm was facing, another problem was brewing inside the stable of her castle. Oros was a majestic and powerful centaur that Lady Athena had as her pet and her protector. The being though thoughtful and intelligent, was kept in the stable along with the horses. He was gifted to the Lady by a fabled conjuror and would only listen to commands from Athena. Each morning and evening, the lady would take the centaur out of the castle for a piss as the other servants were scared to go even near the fiend. But since the last two days, the lady had completely forgotten about her pet. “Where is my lady? She hasn’t visited me in two days...” the centaur asked a servant nearby who happened to be feeding the horses. “Well she’s busy with a guest” he answered before walking away with a stack of hay in his hands. Oros held the chain around his neck and sighed in dismay before settling down to the ground. Each day, the being was given four hundred and fifty litres of water to drink, which meant, he already had over nine hundred litres in his bladder. But his vessel was huge and Oros knew he could hold longer if needs be, but not much longer. Inside the stone walls of the castle, Malcolm was beginning to feel the first signs of his filling bladder but he was confident he could wait. Athena could see the first signs of a bladder bulge beginning to form in Malcolm’s midriff. She invited him for a walk in the gardens, hoping some movement would help him digest all that liquid quicker. She noticed the man walked a bit weirdly, but then what could she expect from a person containing over two hundred and fifty litres of liquid in his stomach. In the evening, Malcolm was served, fifteen litres of milk along with thirty five more litres of water. The man was trembling at the liquid intake. “My lady, I just wanted to know how long will this challenge last?” Malcolm asked, placing a hand on his rapidly filling bladder. “Until I am sure that you have the biggest bladder, this challenge will go on” Lady Athena smirked. She could see his bladder distinctly bulging over his breeches and she knew he had some serious pressure building up, much to her amusement. Little did Lady Athena know that her day was going to get much busier though. A huge blow of trumpets from the courtyard announced the arrival of Prince Noah to the castle. The Prince had travelled all the way to Lady Athena’s castle far up north to take an account of the law and order in her state. “Very welcome my prince, it is a great honour to have you as our guest” the lady greeted. “I am pleased my lady, could you please show me to my chambers, it has been a long and cold journey and I would like to have some rest” the Prince said. Lady Athena personally showed the Prince to his chambers and once alone the Prince made his way straight to the privy. Though in his mid thirties, the prince was a strong and muscular man who drank plenty of water each day. Since the morning, the prince charming had drunk over two hundred litres of pure water, and a large amount of honey water and lemonade. But unfortunately for the Prince, when he tried to open the large wooden door of his privy, it refused to budge. It was jammed. The Prince thought of telling Lady Athena of the problem but then decided against it, as it was thought to be a matter of great disgrace for a monarch to tell someone about their need to relieve themselves. The Prince went downstairs to have his supper, but much to his annoyance and frustration, the servants poured him mug after mug of hard cold beer. Lady Athena wondered what a big pee the prince would take after all that beer, and decided to feed the same amount to Malcolm who was sitting right next to her at the table. By the time the dinner was done, both Prince Noah and Malcolm had drunk over twenty large mugs of beer, and Lady Athena was pleased to think of how much Malcolm’s bladder would fill over the course of the night. Noah however was absolute about not disclosing his problem to Lady Athena. So the Prince quietly went to bed, hoping to find a solution to his problem the next day.