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Found 13 results

  1. The point of this thread is to post commissions you've bought. I'll start with mine and will continue to upload in the future. Please don't forget to credit your Artists >:c Artist: https://www.pixiv.net/users/28169126 Artist: https://www.pixiv.net/users/28169126 Artist: [email protected]
  2. My girlfriend is making a drawing of Bulma peeing. This is her progress so far. I'm sure that if she sees all of your support she would do more drawings for all of us (Yes, I got her permission to post this) She also created a new Deviantart profile. User: Dvangelion02
  3. Version 1.0.0

    1,050 downloads

    I bought this game from a japanese website using a VPN and recorded it. Enjoy lol

    Free

  4. After the Break-Up between Krillin & Maron, Maron was having a good time of her own at the beach alone but something was on her mind..... [by the way Maron is in her Yellow Bikini] Maron: I wonder if Krillin made the right choice letting me go... he was really cute & so good to me (Maron looks into the sky lying down on her Beach Towel and sees a Krillin Shaped Head Cloud) Maron: Hmm I hopefully I will see him again... Huh? *Maron stands up* Maron: Seems like I need to go take a tinkle *looks around* Maron: Oh there's a Porta-Potty. *Knocks on Door* Excuse me is someone in there!? Woman in Porta-Potty: Yes, someone is in here! Maron: Are you almost finished!? Woman in Porta-Potty: No, I just got here! Maron: Ugh! I must find somewhere else to go *looks around again* Maron: Hmm? *Looks at Ocean* It may be improper but what the heck! (Maron runs towards the Ocean) Maron: I hope no one notices I'll just go a little low to the water & squat (Maron walks into the water & squats) Maron: Oh my it feels cold to my bottom *giggles* I just hope no one notices Maron: *Start's peeing* Aw yes that feels so nice & warm hmm.... Maron: *Continues peeing* Oh my this sensation feels really nice Little Girl: *Laughs & Splashing* Huh? Hey lady are you going wee-wee? Maron: *still peeing* Huh? Oh My! *Freaks out & Stands up* I am so embarrassed! Maron: *Still peeing* ah crap I didn't stop peeing when I got up! *tries to cover her groin area with her hands but gets urine on them* Little Girl: Mommy! Mommy! This lady is making a wee-wee! Little Girl's Mom: Sweetie it's not nice to yell & point at someone. I'm so sorry miss. Maron: *Stops peeing* Oh no I got pee on my hands & legs *cries* well it's a good thing Krillin wasn't around to see this... Maron: Time to go back home & get myself cleaned up.
  5. Drakon

    female Android 18's Little Secret

    From the album: Drakon's Personal Artwork

    Android 18 pees her jeans. @sam20
  6. A/N: Discrete or secret wettings are my absolute favorite kind. I had a messy year, a bad breakup and barely enough time to blink. I got the entire Dragon Ball Z series on DVD for Christmas and it made me so nostalgic. So I thought why not write a discrete wetting fic starring my favorite character? Here is the result. xxx Formal debriefings were the bane of Vegeta’s existence. He dressed for the occasion via his blue spandex like skinsuit, white boots, white gloves, white Saiyan armor with a codpiece and tassets and a cape to top it off. The cape was black on the inside and deep red on the outside. It fell to his ankles, signifying his royal roots as the prince of all Saiyans. Vegeta tapped the device suctioned to his ear. The tiny green screen over his left eye told him the time. He kept his scouter’s clock set two minutes fast. Damn. Not much time to achieve more than the appearance of looking fresh after hours in space. Getting word of the debriefing immediately after a mission made it all the more annoying. Vegeta scarcely had enough time to wash up, smooth out his flame shaped black hair, get into clean attire and make his way to Frieza’s boardroom. He spent twelve hours traveling in space via his attack ball and wanted to walk around a bit to stretch his legs. He hadn’t taken a piss in almost fourteen hours. His bladder had filled slowly during that time. While the urge to pee wasn’t urgent yet, the chilly temperature of the base made him obnoxiously aware of it. Why did he opt for the warm weather skinsuit instead of the more insulated cool weather one? Debriefings after landing were annoying for another reason: A lack of sleep. The cushy chairs Vegeta, Frieza, Zarbon and Dodoria got to sit in were comfortable enough to make him nod off if he got too bored. Falling asleep in debriefings was the height of rudeness. Vegeta stopped at a service station to grab a fizzy white caffeinated concoction with a vaguely fruity flavor. The high concentration caffeine content would wake him up. He finished it just prior to entering the large boardroom and chucked the cup into the vacuum trash sconce mounted inside the door. The boardroom had concave crystalline purple walls and a glossy black floor. Large conical light fixtures lined the mirrored ceiling to bathe the room with blue-white light. A black and gold marble table the size of a small closet was the room’s centerpiece. Four specially molded chairs denoted the head of the table. Lesser peoples’ chairs were positioned in rows starting six feet away from the head of the table. Vegeta’s chair placed him near the upper right hand corner. Right next to a whirring generator that ran the lights. Vegeta took a seat on the thick, plush cushioned golden chair made specially to his measurements. The ornate metal backing came halfway up his back. He swept his cape out from under him to avoid the satin getting wrinkled and plopped down on the velvety black cushion. Gaps under the arms of the seat gave his tassets room to spread out instead of bunching up in awkward positions. The seat itself rested atop a thick silver pillar. All other chairs had thinner cushions and were egg shaped instead of contoured to individual bodies. Vegeta was the only other person besides Frieza, Zarbon and Dodoria allowed to sit at the very head of the rectangular table. Not even the Ginyu Force got such an honor, and Vegeta loved rubbing that in their faces when Frieza wasn’t looking. The caffeine hit Vegeta’s bloodstream as others filed in. He went from yawning and struggling to stay awake to bright eyed alertness. Vegeta saw Nappa storm in. Not good, somebody had to wake him up to tell him about the debriefing and Nappa didn’t take kindly to that. He was huge, all muscles with a bushy Saiyan tail and undisguised displeasure on his aging face. Sweat beaded on his bald head. Behind him, bushy haired Raditz strutted along with a salacious swish of his Saiyan tail. He was huge too…all muscles, long hair and mischievous eyes. Vegeta often felt tiny next to them. Sure, he was shorter than average for a Saiyan, however it wasn’t by much. He acknowledged his fellow Saiyans with a nod as they took the two seats closest to the head of the table. Both Saiyans wore standard issue black armor over black skinsuit shorts. They just got seated when they were uprooted from their chosen spot by the obnoxious Ginyu Force. Those five jackasses annoyed everyone, and the only thing saving their lives was their disgustingly high power levels. Raditz and Nappa moved over, angrily protesting the whole way. Two more figures appeared in the door. Zarbon was the tall, pretty soldier with pale blue-green skin who wore his emerald green hair in a long braid. White and purple baubles dangled off his ears and adorned his forehead. His golden eyes scanned the room with an air of disdain that turned to hatred when they met Vegeta’s. Zarbon hated it when Vegeta wore his cape because he despised his own cape being upstaged. Next came Dodoria, the obese yet muscular pink alien covered in spiky knobs like some sort of coral. Blue Saiyan style armor adorned his stocky body. His beady eyes scanned the room too and the wheezing sounds of his heavy breathing became a growl when a panicked late soldier rushed into the boardroom to snag a seat. A long shadow with a sideways horn on each side of its head stretched across the floor. The commotion in the room suddenly died. From chaos to silence in a mere second. The shadow shrank and shrank. Hardly anyone breathed when they looked upon the reptilian humanoid making his entrance on delicate three toed feet. Frieza slipped into the boardroom with his chin up and his fists tucked nonchalantly behind his back. His long, armored tail swished behind him. It was absurd to see people quivering at someone tinier than Vegeta. He didn’t look powerful at all. He was four feet tall and scrawny, his compact dark pink body only vaguely muscular. That disgusting little creature possessed the ability to annihilate entire solar systems with a flick of his wrist. Nappa, Raditz and Vegeta knew this all too well because it was Frieza who destroyed their home planet. One cold glance of Frieza’s narrow red eyes was rumored to cause weaker beings to die of fright on the spot. Vegeta stood up to bow. Being diplomatic kept him in Frieza’s good graces. He hoped to stay there until the day he was strong enough to kill the little bastard. Frieza dismissed Vegeta’s bow with a careless wave of his manicured hand. The lights played off his shiny purple armor and horns. He was all black lipped smiles and his long reptilian tail rested gently on the floor. All his body language indicated he wasn’t in a killing mood. Not right then, at least. The weakest, wimpiest soldiers in the room shifted nervously. They were cannon fodder, often used as sheer numbers to overwhelm opponents like swarms of stinging insects. Their presence was a reminder of the order of the universe. Either someone was in the Planet Trade Organization, or they were dead. People who never heard of it usually ended up vaporized. Everyone sat when Frieza did. Now for the most tedious part of debriefings: Listening to soldiers or entire teams speak at length about discoveries. The PTO was an expanding business. Frieza liked to grab as much territory and resources as possible to keep competitors away. Three hours into the debriefing was the first time Vegeta regretted the caffeinated beverage. Now his bladder made its fullness known. A minor, yet annoying discomfort that kept stealing his attention. He shifted on his chair and rested his hands on his knees. A soldier with a thick, gurgly voice detailed the discovery of problematic black hole near a solar system Frieza recently conquered. Vegeta paid full attention to that report. It was the last one to get his undivided awareness. His focus kept defaulting to the growing ache in his abdomen. He rubbed his knees and leaned forward, hoping to at least appear like he was listening. Then he had to lean back and his first truly painful twinge froze him in place. Okay, sitting ramrod straight wasn’t going to work. He opted for leaning back on the chair’s backing, sighing in annoyance. Raditz texted him via scouter. “What’s with the squirms, Vegeta?” Vegeta pushed his scouter’s control button in a coded fashion and lied in his reply. “My scouter keeps getting feedback. It’s an obsolete piece of shit.” A shrug from Raditz was the only sympathy he got. Other people began displaying signs of discomfort. Nappa kept rubbing his stomach. He wasn’t subtle about his distress. Vegeta saw Frieza glance at him once or twice. The tyrant’s black lips tightened. That was dangerous. Vegeta texted Nappa. “Frieza noticed you. Stop squirming or you’re dead.” Nappa folded his arms over his stomach and sat still again. His malcontent reminded Vegeta of his own. The mild pee urges from his bladder were intensifying thanks to the stupid caffeine. Years of learning to mask all outward signals of pain and discomfort were the only thing saving him from the others noticing his increasing need for a bathroom. Three white haired people with beaks and mottled orange skin addressed Frieza via a simultaneous choreographed bow. Their presentation included holographic images of water geysers on a pockmarked moon. NOT something Vegeta wanted to see right now! His bladder gave an agonizing contraction and a thin dribble of piss escaped his soft uncut cock, which was propped upward by the fabric of his skinsuit. The warmth oozed down his shaft to his balls. More pain stabbed his abdomen. Instinct forced him to clench his muscles and keep hanging on through the painful bladder spasms. He jiggled his left leg a few times, occasionally tapping on his scouter to keep up the feedback charade because he was not going to risk getting killed for excessive fidgeting. An hour went by with Frieza’s lesser troops reporting back from their scout missions. Vegeta allowed himself a momentary scissoring of his legs to feign working out a cramp. He saw some other soldiers wiggling their legs and shifting their weight. He smirked when he saw ever flamboyant Zarbon frowning and showing signs of mild discomfort. Frieza looked totally unperturbed. His species didn’t pee because they shed most of their wastes through gas exchange while breathing. That was the problem behind such obnoxiously long debriefings. Frieza could not fathom the discomfort of needing a bathroom or why some people were able to wait longer than others. Vegeta’s pondering caused a lapse in concentration. His bladder contracted. The pain was intense like a too tight belt around his waist. A large spurt of pee escaped him the same time Frieza called his name. “Vegeta, what were your findings on planet Kale?” “The natives are weaklings and will be easy to eradicate.” Vegeta replied smoothly. He shifted subtly on the chair to plant his elbow on the armrest and lay his cheek against his palm. The pose gave the illusion of bored haughtiness. Misdirection was the only trick he had left. His bladder ached with another spasm. He leaked again, a thin trickle that hurt to clench off. He forced his limbs to look more relaxed as his torso got more tense. His voice remained steady, hinting at nothing of his agonizing inner struggle. “Preliminary scans suggest extreme geological activity near the south pole. There are plenty of carbon deposits to convert into fuel. The problem is that section of the planet is a vast ocean.” He gushed again, this time full force. He heard it hiss as he regained control and thanked the stars his proximity to the clunky generator powering the room lights covered the sound from everyone but him. His muscles were tiring. He dug his ass into the seat slightly in a final attempt to hang on. “It shouldn’t take more than a week of undersea drilling to get the best carbon deposits. I think -” Pain shot through him and he felt himself slowly dribbling little drops of pee. The individual droplets leaking through the opening of his foreskin tickled slightly as they soaked into the wet fabric of his skinsuit or ran down underneath his balls to wet the cushion he sat on. Trying to clench his muscles made it hurt worse. He did it anyway. Vegeta cleared his throat to cover the lapse in his speech. “I think we should get started before Kale moves too close to its sun. Summer is high tide for that area and it persists until autumn. The drilling equipment will fare better while the tide is low.” He hesitated through another twinge and expertly made it appear to be a dramatic pause. His pelvic floor muscles bore down. He shifted his weight a tiny bit to the right while making a sweeping gesture at the room. “We will have to move quickly. Kale’s summer lasts approximately two hundred days.” His bladder spasmed painfully and the slow dribble became a thin though steady stream. Vegeta halted his pee again by leaning backwards slightly. All without losing his mask of aloofness. More bearing down spasms caused him to tense his legs. He realized he was slouching in a most unprofessional posture and scooted his bottom backwards in the seat to sit up properly. “The south pole’s high tide coincides with summer. That will mean added water pressure and possible equipment malfunctions.” Piss suddenly exploded out of him in a turbulent ribbon shaped spray. Full force, totally uncontrollable. Warmth splashed back against his pubic hair and poured a tiny waterfall down his shaft to create a lake under his balls. The cushion got warm as it absorbed his pee and he realized it wasn’t going to patter on the floor after all. The gurgling hiss as his stream sprayed the fabric of his skinsuit sounded so loud in his ears, yet the generator behind him saved his dignity. Embarrassed, he kept talking without a hint of his situation showing through in his face or voice. “Winter is no better. The weather patterns freeze everything solid. Icy conditions will cause too much interference. Currently, it is springtime on Kale’s south pole…” The hissing noise waxed and waned as his muscles rhythmically bore down to help his bladder force the pee out. He maintained perfect composure, grateful for his armor codpiece, his cape and the cushion he sat on. He glanced around and almost couldn’t believe it. Everybody in the room was looking at him and not a single person knew he was taking the most torrential piss of his life right in front of them. “…and conditions are perfect for mining right now. The ores are the purest we’ll find in this corner of the galaxy. Therefore, it would be foolish to wait. Lord Frieza, I suggest you send your men to Kale within the next month. Kale’s summer will begin in exactly three months. It’s better to start early in case of unexpected issues during the mining process.” Hot wetness continued to saturate his crotch, ass and the cushion underneath him. He tried not to moan, sigh or close his eyes in relief like he was apt to do in the bathroom. “Well done, is there anything else you would personally like to add?” Frieza remarked. Vegeta, still peeing full force, steepled his fingers and shook his head. “No, I’ve said all I need to.” One more nod and everyone’s attention was off him. Vegeta relaxed in the chair, grateful to not be the center of everyone’s focus anymore. He allowed his awareness to turn inward on the sensation of wetting himself. The wetness, the warmth, the vibration and the sound made the experience strangely delicious. It took three more minutes for the piss spraying from his cock to weaken into a concentrated stream. His body stopped bearing down. He could have cut the flow off then, but decided to finish emptying because it felt so damn good to release nearly twenty four hours worth of piss. The gentler flow went on for another two minutes, diminished to a weak trickle and finally stopped. He couldn’t resist sighing to himself and pushing out the final few spurts. The hot lake he created under his balls soaked into the thick cushion. Vegeta’s entire crotch and ass were drenched. So was the cushion. Sitting in his own urine wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. Actually it got itchy after a few minutes. Being a little bit itchy was a hell of a lot better than suffering in pain. And, strangely, it was arousing to do something as taboo as wet his pants in a crowded room without anybody knowing. Caffeine was great for hiding urine smells and awful on bladders. Vegeta had to pee again in less than thirty minutes. By sixty it got painful. Ninety minutes was the point he had to concentrate on not relaxing too much because his muscles were all that held the flood back. His bladder and sphincter were exhausted from his unintentional marathon hold. Vegeta knew he wasn’t going to make it to the brief recess Frieza usually called during long debriefings like this. He readjusted to sit with his left ankle crossed over his right knee, his right elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin propped up on his palm. He inhaled silently, exhaled and relaxed. No dribbles this time, he went right to full stream just like he would in front of a urinal. The clammy half dry skinsuit material on his crotch got warm and wet once again. He sighed in relief, feigning aloof boredom while he peed as long and copiously as he did during his first accident. Except this time his muscles weren’t desperately pushing it out. The stream was smooth and fat without any turbulence to cause a hissing noise. It flowed effortlessly in its silent secrecy. He quietly reveled in the hot pee tickling his sac on its way into the cushion. All too soon his flow died to a thin trickle that continued for a delightful minute longer. He pushed with his stomach muscles to squeeze out the last few spurts. The cushion wicked the wetness away like soil sopping up rain. And not a single person around him knew he pissed himself twice. Another boring hour passed. Reports about different planets came in. One soldier had a terrible stutter, and Frieza blasted him to nothingness. That woke everyone up to full attention. Nappa resumed his grimacing and moving around. He wasn’t very subtle about reaching under his codpiece to hold himself. Vegeta had a clear view of his comrade seated next to Raditz and Reccoome. Raditz’s brow was knit with irritation. Captain Ginyu cleared his throat. He gave an elegant forty five minute speech about Kale’s moons, a not so subtle attempt to usurp Vegeta’s report to win Frieza’s favor. How laughably pathetic! Vegeta glanced at Nappa when he heard him grunt. The large, bald Saiyan leaned forward in his seat with his elbows on the table and his forehead resting on his hands. He looked around, frantic. Raditz nudged him and whispered something. Nappa only nodded, red-faced. He leaned forward again, longer this time with a focused look on his face. Cui started his report on a difficult colony somewhere in another galactic quadrant. Vegeta took his attention off Nappa to listen because he expected to get assigned to cleanse that planet of its population. Three more people followed after Cui’s thirty minute report. Frieza finally took notice of more than one soldier showing signs of urgency. He called a fifteen minute recess to let people who had to expel wastes go to the bathroom. It was practically a stampede for the door. Zarbon got out first and sprinted away. Dodoria pushed people out of his way. The Ginyu Force laughed and pointed to wet chairs and puddles on the floor. Vegeta had to pee badly again thanks to that stupid fizzy caffeine drink, but he didn’t dare get up in case the chair cushion revealed his wetting to all. He stayed seated and fiddled with his scouter to feign diagnosing the imaginary feedback issue. Let everyone think he had a bladder made of diamond, it was far better than them knowing the truth. He noticed fluid dripping from behind Nappa’s codpiece as the larger Saiyan stood by the table. Those slow drips became a steady, fat stream. Soldiers jumped away to avoid the expanding puddle at his feet. Nappa smashed his fist against the table in anger. He blushed as he walked towards the door. He was pissing full force and left a trail on the floor. Not only that, the foul odor and the bulge in the seat of his black skinsuit shorts explained his earlier behavior. His angry expression kept everyone else’s mouth shut. He stormed out while shooting glares at anyone who snickered. “Bladders are odd organs,” Frieza mused to Vegeta. He left the room without waiting for a response. Everyone else ran to bathrooms. Frieza usually got something to eat or drink. Before long the room was empty and quiet. Vegeta looked around to assure his solitude. He stood up to survey the cushion. The wetness wasn’t noticeable on the black material unless somebody touched it. He moved his cape and seated himself again, pulled his codpiece up to expose his lap and examined the damage on himself. The skinsuit fabric only looked wet when in contact with fluid. His ass was still wet from sitting on the pissy cushion. His crotch looked nearly dry. Vegeta laid his codpiece down, glanced around again and relaxed. His sore, tired bladder released its contents without a fuss. This time, he kept it to a slow trickle despite his body longing to push it all out as fast as possible. Frieza walked back into the room less than a second later. He tossed a food wrapper into the trash sconce. Vegeta pretended not to notice him. He kept on peeing as he fiddled with the buttons on his scouter. “Is your scouter still causing feedback?” asked Frieza, a brow ridge arched curiously. “Mmhmm. I think it’s a receiver issue.” Vegeta replied. He arched his back and stretched, which made his slow dribble become a strong spray. Frieza stepped curiously into Vegeta’s personal space. He swiped the scouter out of Vegeta’s hand. Then he held his chin between thumb and forefinger as he examined the exposed circuitry. “Hm. I hear it hissing. I heard the same noise earlier, too. Interesting.” Vegeta blinked. He was pissing himself and having a conversation with someone totally oblivious to how bladders and pee streams worked! “I didn’t think it was that loud.” Then he looked into Frieza’s eyes and pushed again, forcing the rest of his pee out in the biggest, loudest, fattest stream he could muster. His dick began to harden in response to doing something so taboo without being discovered. Frieza tilted his head and squinted at the scouter. It was comical, seeing a galactic tyrant unknowingly make a fool of himself. Vegeta folded his hands in his lap to keep his erection from shifting his codpiece out of alignment. He made himself a picture of innocence as his stream died away. “It stopped. Huh, odd.” Frieza crushed the scouter effortlessly in a tiny fist and hopped into his ornate seat. “You won’t be needing this anymore. The newest models will be arriving by tomorrow. Come to my office first thing in the morning. I’ll make certain you get a replacement.” “Wonderful. I look forward to it. The hiss was distracting.” Vegeta smirked as people began filing back in. Dodoria and Zarbon were first, followed by the Ginyu Force, Nappa, Raditz and the numerous weaklings that made up Frieza’s army. The debriefing lasted another two hours. Nappa wouldn’t look at anybody. Vegeta endeavored to not wet his pants a fourth time because he no longer had a scouter to blame for his discomfort or the hiss. His sphincter and bladder were so worn out that he’d once again become desperate. He made zero attempt to listen to the tedious reports being brought to the table because they wouldn’t concern him anyway. All his attention stayed glued on his aching bladder. He tapped his foot impatiently until Frieza declared the debriefing over. He bolted as soon as he heard the dismissal, making a beeline for his base quarters. “Hey, Vegeta!” Raditz called out. “Not now!” Vegeta walked briskly down the hall to his private base quarters. Every step jarred his bladder into aching distraction. “Aw, what gives?” Vegeta stood knock kneed outside his room as he keyed in his passcode. “I need to piss, I haven’t slept and I have a headache from hell. So, you have two choices. Either you leave me alone, or I crush your skull. Which is it?” The bushy haired Saiyan cocked his head and pursed his lips. “Suit yourself. Drinks later?” "No, I need to sleep.” The door slid open and Vegeta bounded through without caring what Raditz thought. His bladder spasmed and he doubled forward until the pain passed. He heard the door whir shut behind him and rushed to the tiny en suite bathroom which was all mirrored tiles. It was a whirlwind of action as he pulled the Saiyan armor over his head cape and all, yanked his boots off and removed his gloves. The blue skinsuit managed to dry completely, save for slight dampness around his ass. Vegeta glimpsed his reflection in the tiles. How pathetic he looked, all doubled over, crossed legged and clutching his crotch like a child. I wet myself in a public debriefing and nobody knew I did it. What’s to stop me now? It felt good to piss in my pants. That gave Vegeta pause. His dick was semi erect. It felt good to piss in my pants. He sat on the shower bench where one of the bathroom lights shone directly on his crotch. The cold, hard tiles increased his need. He instinctively tensed at another spasm. It hurt dreadfully and he groaned aloud, grabbing at his dick through his blue skinsuit as the first painful dribble escaped. He held on, wanting to again experience the sensation of losing control. It took longer than expected. Vegeta got up, paced around and seated himself again as more pains doubled him over. The bigger spurts started. Feeling the rhythmic squeezing and relaxing was bliss. He watched a glistening dark stain appear on his skinsuit and trickle down the length of his package. Leaning back sent his stomach muscles into vicious bearing down contractions. They were so painful that he let out another moan and sat up straight to relieve the pain. Piss exploded out of him with the same violence as the debriefing. Vegeta gripped the bench on either side of his knees and threw his head back, sighing audibly as his stream fountained through the skinsuit fabric with a thunderous hiss. Wet heat rolled along his balls to spread out on the bench. The advancing puddle surged past his knees to patter noisily on the tile floor. He moved his feet in the path of his piss waterfall and wiggled his toes in the flowing warmth. “Ahhh, fuck yes,” Vegeta gasped. He cut his stream to a slow dribble and stood up. His exhausted muscles refused to hold anything back. He started pissing full force again, sending ribbons of warmth down his muscular legs. He pushed, making it hiss louder. A huge, fat stream flowed straight downward between his feet. His hand found its way to his crotch. Feeling the power of his pee stream jetting into his clothes turned him on in ways he never knew possible. He peed for ages ‘til his stream died to a dribble. Next thing he knew he was rubbing his wet bulge vigorously until he fell to his knees in his own piss and came so hard he saw stars. He didn’t know how long he stayed curled up on the floor in tingling bliss. Hours, minutes, seconds? He didn’t care. He opened his eyes at the smell of his cum and piss mingling in air around him. He licked the pissy semen off his hand, noting its bitter saltiness, and stared at his reflection through the pee puddle between his knees. What did this mean? Being in wet clothes began to get itchy. Vegeta stripped off his filthy skinsuit and showered to wash all the piss and sperm off. He climbed into a pair of gray boxerbriefs and dumped yesterday’s clothes into the washing-drying unit by the toilet. They would be clean again and ready to wear tomorrow. Vegeta slept wonderfully, and when he woke lying on his stomach he noticed his bladder’s morning fullness. His cock was fully erect, so he freed it from his boxerbriefs and humped his bedroll mattress until he came. The moments after an orgasm always triggered mad dashes to the bathroom if he got off with a full bladder. But not this time. Vegeta stuck his dick back into his underwear, rolled onto his back despite the jizz stain, pulled the white kicked off covers up to his chin again and sighed. His first thing in the morning pees were always intense if he came before using the toilet. Laying on his back left him fully aware of how badly he had to go. Painful bladder spasms set off alarm bells in his brain to get up. He folded his hands on his stomach and relaxed instead of clenching. The flow started in a dribble when his erection began to soften and became a fat and powerful stream when his dick was completely limp. Morning pee always smelled strong and a little unpleasant, but the naughtiness of doing it in bed felt amazing. Why didn’t he learn how good this felt sooner? Vegeta closed his eyes as hot warmth vibrated his waistband. The fabric was soon saturated and the pee started enveloping his his ballsack and buttcrack. More skittered off his hips to wet his ass cheeks, the sheets and bedroll underneath. He rubbed his thumb up and down the length of his pissing cock through his boxerbriefs. The piss flow seemed to go on and on for a blissful blazing eternity. Vegeta didn’t wait for his pee to stop flowing. He grabbed himself through his pissy underwear and started rubbing furiously. His dribbling cock sprang to attention. A bright red sex flush darkened his cheeks and throat. He squeezed his eyes shut when the first quivers of orgasm shot through his abdomen. The sensation was just as intense as last night. He dug his head into his pillow. He chewed his lower lip, redfaced and groaning with wild abandon as his throbbing dick squirted thick stickiness into his wet boxerbriefs. Afterward he lay there, sweaty, panting, piss soaked and satisfied. Many minutes passed before he stopped trembling enough to leave his bed and prepare for that day’s duties. He smirked at how drenched his underwear were. They looked solidly darker gray and smelled awful. The washing-drying machine took care of them and his bedding. He got dressed after rinsing his lower half in the shower to get all the piss and cum off his skin. Nobody would ever know. xxx Vegeta picked his new scouter up from Frieza’s office shortly after dawn. He attached it to his ear and pressed the button to test it. It responded faster than his old scouter. Nice. “Oh, Vegeta?” Frieza hadn’t moved from his position by the huge concave window overlooking the desolate landscape. He twitched his tail, subtly showing agitation. “Yes?” Vegeta stood immediately at attention. He knew the tail meant trouble if he mouthed off. “Was your cushion wet when you sat down yesterday?” Shit, shit, shit! He thought quickly for an excuse. “Yes. I didn’t want to complain about it during the debriefing.” “You left rather quickly afterward.” “My apologies. Whatever got the cushion wet was burning my skin, and I had to shower immediately to make it stop.” Frieza waved his hand. “Hm. No matter, I think I’ve pinpointed the problem. Some of the dryer units are on the fritz again. I had your cushion sent for repeat cleaning and hopefully a proper drying. Fabric of such expense needs to be taken care of. Let me know if it’s wet next time. I’ll see to it the person responsible pays with their life.” “I will. Thank you, Lord Frieza.” Vegeta bowed and got the hell out of there. That was utterly terrifying and he knew he couldn’t pee in his pants during a debriefing again unless he found a way to keep the cushion dry. His fear melted away and he grinned as he slipped out of sight. Vegeta couldn’t believe he got away with it. Yesterday’s wetting experience awakened him to a new source of pleasure, one he hoped to experiment with in the future
  7. This is my first (completed) attempt at an omo-themed story and my first DBZ fanfic. Inspired by my personal headcannon that Videl pees her pants when in stressful/dangerous situations (which is the main reason she wears black shorts). Slight mention of messing but nothing explicit. “I’m in position.” Videl whispered into the radio clipped to her ear. “How many are in the bank?” After a brief hiss of static, a male voice crackled over the line. “Reports say four captors and eight hostages. All on the first floor, in the main lobby.” “How are the captors armed?” “Looks like they are armed with one shot gun, one rifle, either semi or fully automatic and two pistols.” “Right. Moving to the lobby now.” After taking a deep, steadying breath Videl crept silently out of the maintenance closet she had used to make her entrance to the bank and started making her way to the main lobby. Soon she reached a corner and could hear the steady thump of heavy boots pacing across tile mixed in with faint whimpering and sniffles and was struck with a strong urge to pee. She grimaced at the sudden, yet not unexpected, fullness of her bladder. Stressful situations, particularly anything dealing with her police work, made her need to pee. She would have to finish with the bank robbers quickly if she wanted to avoid peeing in her pants. Again. Once at the corner she peeked around and quickly scanned the lobby to verify the locations of both the captors and the hostages. The hostages were along the far wall, kneeling with their hands behind their heads. Two of the captors, rifle and pistol one, were in front of the hostages talking in low voices. Shotgun was pacing across the lobby floor halfway between the corner and the hostages and pistol two was leaning against the wall just a few feet away from her, facing the hostages and smoking a cigarette. Videl squeezed her thighs together briefly, fighting off the strengthening urge to pee, then surged into motion. She darted forward and slammed her elbow into Cigarette’s temple. The man staggered and, with a gurgling moan, crumpled to the floor in a senseless heap. Videl stepped over the unconscious man, pausing briefly to kick his gun away, and charged toward the shotgun wielding bank robber. She was fifteen feet away from him when he turned and raised his weapon. Her bladder spasmed at the sight of the gapping blackness of the gun barrel pointing at her, a brief spurt of near scalding hot urine dampening her panties. She regained control before too much damage had been done and, still running, dropped to her knees to slide across the smooth tiled floor. Once under the barrel of the shotgun she surged to her feet and shoved the weapon upwards, where it discharged harmlessly into the ceiling, and used her free hand to punch the man in the stomach with all the force she could muster. The robber let out an explosive grunt as he folded around Videl’s fist, his still smoking shotgun clattering loudly to the floor. Across the lobby Videl saw both the remining robbers turn their guns toward her and instinctively dropped into a crouch to avoid a burst of gunfire. With bullets hissing over her head a jet of fresh pee soaked her panties and quickly spread to the seat of her pants. Through sheer force of will Videl was able to regain control of her bladder after a handful of seconds then snatched up the discarded shotgun and flung it end-over-end at the gunmen. As soon as the gun left her hand Videl leapt to her feet and sprinted after it. Rifle flinched away from the spinning shotgun and accidentally smashed the barrel of his weapon into his companion’s face. The pistol wielder dropped to his knees, blood spurting between his fingers as he clutched his shattered nose. Before Rifle had a chance to bring his weapon back around Videl drove her shoulder into his chest at full speed, knocking him off his feet. The jarring impact of her tackle loosed another spurt of pee into her already wet panties. Videl stepped over Rifle, who was unconscious after his fall, and knocked the last gunman out with a boot to the forehead. “Lobby secured, captors are down.” Videl announced into her radio. She turned to face the hostages. The bank manager, a slightly overweight bald man, climbed to his feet and walked over to Videl. As the man approached her Videl noticed a dark wet stain running down the left leg of his light gray trousers. “Thank you for saving us, Miss Videl. You dealt with those brigands quite handily.” Videl blushed slightly at the heartfelt praise. “It’s no problem, sir. Just doing what I can to help.” The doors to the lobby swung open and a dozen police officers rushed in. A pair of officers hurried over to each of the unconscious bank robbers. In short order they had them handcuffed and were dragging them away. The remaining four officers made their way over to the hostages. As Videl helped a dark-haired woman and her young son to their feet she noticed a distinct odor. “Ma’am, the police will show you where you can get him cleaned up.” “It wasn’t me! I didn’t poop my pants!” The little boy said defiantly. “It was mommy!” The woman blushed furiously and ducked her head as she awkwardly shuffled past Videl with a muttered ‘Thank you’. Videl felt a stab of sympathy for the woman, distinctly remembering the shame and discomfort she had felt the few times that she had soiled herself in fear. Videl turned to face a young blonde woman wearing blue jeans and a grey t-shirt. Her breath hitched, and she felt her heart skip a beat as Erasa to the blonde’s place in her mind’s eye. A new warmth began to pool in her lower belly while her nipples hardened. Her palms were suddenly sweaty and her mouth dry. Spurred on by half-remembered erotic dreams and idle fantasies Videl suddenly wanted to kiss the blonde/Erasa. She swallowed several times then licked her lips. “You can get up now. You’re safe” “I can’t. I can’t hold it.” The blonde whimpered, her sea-foam green eyes spilling over with tears. A rapidly expanding puddle bloomed under her, accompanied by a faint hissing sound. ‘She’s peeing.’ As soon as Videl realized what was happening she felt her own bladder release, the sight of the blonde helplessly wetting herself proving too much to bear. The sensation of liquid warmth bathing her groin and cascading down her thighs mixed with the relief of pressure in her bladder and added to her arousal combined into near orgasmic pleasure that burned away any hint of shame or embarrassment. Videl instinctively jammed her hands between her thighs to try and stem the flow of urine. Pressing her hands against her crotch added just enough friction to push Videl over the knife’s edge of sexual release. The most powerful orgasm Videl had ever felt surged through her body. Videl tilted her head back and squeezed her eyes shut as she groaned loudly and dropped to her knees. She lost track of how long she knelt there trembling in ecstasy, it could have been seconds or hours. When her limbs finally stopped shaking, Videl opened her eyes. The blonde was staring at her, blushing furiously. “I couldn’t hold it either.” Videl whispered, feeling heat creep into her own cheeks. She glanced down and noticed that she and the blonde had peed so much that their puddles had combined and bushed harder. The realization that she had just orgasmed in front of a total stranger while half-fantasizing about her best friend hit Videl and her blush intensified. She lurched to her feet and, avoiding further eye contact with the blonde, set out for the exit at a brisk walk.
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