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  1. The doors hissed and thudded together. It was a local train and I was headed out of the city to a town 10 miles or so away. As the train crossed the river and passed through a mix of industrial buildings, I checked google maps again and calculated that the cafe was a 12 minute walk from the station. I was excited and nervous at the same time. We had been online friends for months and conversation was always easy not only due to our mutual omo interests but because there was a general ease when we talked. The nerves were due to the fact that was not only our first face to face meeting, there was going to be an element of public play. We both enjoyed holding but Julie also liked to control. I was more than happy to assume the sub role and had found myself on the verge of wetting myself on several occasions during our online mutual desperation play sessions. As we planned for our first meeting, Julie had become noticeably more domineering. The choice of venue was hers and she had furnished me with a specific list of instructions. Firstly my outfit. A pair of faded 501's, not tight but snug in the right places with a broad leather belt. A pair of pale blue trunks which I had bought in the Canaries that Julie had caused me to leak into the week before, white tee shirt and a leather jacket. I was to take the 1.15 train from the city centre and head to a cafe a short walk from the destination where Julie would meet me. There had been no mention of holding before our meeting so I had drunk normally and used the bathroom a couple of times. The train stopped for the third time. Two more stops before mine. It may have been nerves but I thought I should use the toilet. I glanced down the carriage and spotted the sign. I waited until the fresh passengers were seated and the doors were closing before I stood to make my way down the aisle. Just as I stood up I felt my phone vibrate as a text came in. It was from Julie 'where are you now?'. I sat back down as I texted back. I could see by the three dashes below my message that she was replying. 'OK. See you soon' more animated dashes followed by 'No toilet' . How the hell did she know that's where I was headed? I suddenly thought that she may be on the train somewhere watching me before laughing at my own vivid imagination. It was only a precautionary piss anyway! I felt my cock stiffen slightly. It had started. After a couple more stops my station was next on the illuminated sign. Another vibration. 'Meet you inside. If you get there first, order us both tea'. The train slowed to a stop and I disembarked at a small commuter station and made my way out and onto the high street. About halfway along the street a text 'Get a booth at the back'. I walked into an old style tea room cafe bang on 2.00pm. I headed towards the rear of the L shaped cafe and found an empty table in a kind of booth that came up to about shoulder height when you are seated. There was no sign of Julie as the waitress approached. "A pot of tea for two please?" I gestured across the table and felt that I needed to add "I'm expecting a friend". As I waited I checked out the decor. It was like a time warp with cream painted embossed wallpaper and gold framed prints of the old town. The waitress brought the tea things and laid everything out. I sat there for a couple of minutes not knowing wether I should wait when the phone went 'I've been held up. Did you get the tea?'. I told her yes, just. 'Drink all of it'. I texted back yes and looked at the pot trying to calculate how much tea it contained. 4, 5 cups maybe more? Must be well over a pint at any rate. I poured myself a cup and added milk. I am a coffee drinker and rarely touch the tea and Julie knew that. It was actually a nice cuppa and as I drank I realised that I was actually quite thirsty. As I drained my cup, I popped the lid on the pot. It still looked almost full. 'Fuck. How much do these things hold?'. I poured out a second cup and the splashing Amber liquid made me wish I had got the chance for my piss on the train as I was feeling a definite tingle down there. Another text 'On my way. Drink up!'
  2. Warning: This chapter includes a reference to bullying in high school that involves omorashi. CHAPTER 1 Ryu knew she had a bad habit, she understood normal people didn't do what she enjoyed but she couldn't help it. Every time she felt the urge to pee she ignored it and kept going until it became unbearable and she leaked a bit. It's not as if she had many friends who would notice her strange behavior or call her out on the loose clothes she always used for confort and to hide her distended bladder anyway. Yet she yearned for more, more strength, more endurance, more capacity. By the middle of the semester she had lost track on how many times she had found herself in class crossing her legs and wishing she had not forgotten her morning pee. She guessed it came from her time in high school. She had never been popular, her sickly pale skin and wild black hair did not contribute at all, neither did her bonny and skinny constitution. So because all the pretty mean girls saw the bathroom as a safe heaven she learned to avoid it like the plague, going full school days without stepping on it. Of course the kink if she dared to call it so had begun a Tuesday where one of those girls had noticed her squirming and decided that she and her goons would do anything in their power to stop her from going to the bathroom, as if she wasn't trying to do that herself. Somehow that memory had a weird warmth to it, it had been uncomfortable and cold sweat had formed in her back as she took notice of the girls blocking the exits at the end of class, one even decided to ad to her torture and buy her a cold can of tea that Ryu sipped frightfully hoping that somehow it fit in her already brimming full bladder. That last class had been torture, as she sat there legs crossed as hard as she could and a hand forgetting all about decorum as she pressed it against her pee hole with her skirt. She had rocked back and forth as the girls giggled and she had never felt hornier. Just the thought of loosing control in front of everyone and being teased for it made her pussy tingle with want, she was so tempted! In the end she had come on top and the girls lost intrest as she stood up and gathered her things as if she didn't have the bladder stuffed to full capacity and two minutes away from fully loosing control. She ended up peeing herself on the way home and then arriving to her thank fully empty house where she proceeded to rub herself raw trough her very soaked panties. Because history tends to repeat itself that spring day she had found herself in her third class of the afternoon struggling to keep the pee in and dutifully taking notes. She had of course noticed someone looking at her, he always looked away shyly when she caught him staring but those warm brown eyes always came back after a minute. If she remembered correctly his name was Leo, another fifth row enthusiast like her, although he was mostly surrounded with friends while on her end she only had her backpack for company. That in itself presented a problem, because as much as she would have liked to just wet herself in front of everyone in reality she couldn't even bring herself to hold herdelf with her hand, and all because Leo was watching her with a pleasant smile. Ryu was shy at heart and now that a cute guy was watching her she didn't want to ruin it just because her pesky bladder couldn't hold a few hours of pee. When the class ended she took her time gathering her papers reasoning that if she was going to the bathroom before it was time she better enjoy it a bit more. That way she wouldn't wet herself in her last class and hopefully avoid Leo from noticing anything was wrong. Yet it seemed the boy in question wasn't in a all for the plan, as when Ryu lifter her head he was there waiting for her and smiling. Looking at that smile she knew she was doomed.
  3. Is using the bathroom a right or a privilege for students? Here in the U.S., I'm really not sure if some teachers are trying to teach discipline to their students, are so insecure that they believe students are lying to get out of their lesson, or are just evil. Most of us have been at the hand of one of these teachers who would not let us go when we really needed to and suffered embarrassing accidents because of it... I personally think it's wrong for a teacher to deny someone needed bathroom privileges because they speculate and assume that a student might abuse it. It's true that bathroom breaks can be abused for the bad students in order to get out of class, cheat, or cause trouble. But should a few bad apples ruin the whole bunch? My Thoughts: - The discipline over learning to control one's bladder should not be taught by the teacher but should be left to the parents or guardians of the students to teach and encourage them in a safer setting. Bathrooms are there for a reason and sometimes, you just gotta go, especially if you drink a lot during the day and younger students have much smaller bladders and lack of self-control. If they are trying to teach, then you don't teach by forcing someone to hold it and have an embarrassing accident in front of their classmates, hoping they'll learn. Even for good and/or shyer students (like myself) who were embarrassed of asking to be excused is torture and such should never be reprimanded by a teacher. - If teachers think it's a disruption for students to go to the bathroom while they're teaching (or assume that everyone else will have to go because they let 1 person leave) does not always apply. The alternative solution goes back to the "potty break/team" line up idea is much better than outright denying access to a bathroom, but is patronizing and rather strange for older students. - If teachers are too insecure and think the students are just making excuses to get out of class, then they need to gain more confidence. Bad students do exist, but this should not be the case in every situation like I've observed in schools. Teachers are smart enough to know who the real trouble makers are and take note. What do you think? Do you have any stories about these dreadful experiences?
  4. Hello everyone. Long time, no write. This is something I was inspired to throw together after watching the anime Goblin Slayer. One character in this series canonically has a real issue with fear wetting, and as such, I simply had to put my own spin on things. Of course, as with all fanfiction, it's highly recommended that you be familiar with the series first. Just be warned: Goblin Slayer features extremely brutal violence and graphic depictions of rape and sexual assault, so if that will disturb you, best avoid this whole thing. Seriously, the fact that this series even exists is almost an affront to ethics itself. Don't say I didn't warn you. However, this particular story features none of that. Now that that's all out of the way, I hope you enjoy the read. ***** This story begins at the farm, after the battle of Water Town. Part 1 of 2 ***** “We need to talk.” The Priestess looked up from her prayers, her eyes settling on the armored man who she'd been spending so much time with lately. Goblin Slayer was standing in the doorway, dressed the same as he usually was, his shortsword on his hip and his buckler hanging from his left arm. In his right hand, he was holding a large clay pitcher. “Of course, Goblin Slayer. What is it you need?” she asked, setting her staff on the bed beside her. “Two times now, when goblins seriously threatened you, you relieved yourself in your clothes,” Goblin Slayer said plainly. “First on the day that we met, and then after I was injured in Water Town. It can't happen again.” The Priestess jumped to her feet, folding her hands over her face, her pale skin instantly burning bright red. “You-you-you noticed that!?” she whined as she retreated against the back wall of the room. “Of course I did,” Goblin Slayer stated. “And the goblins did as well. We were lucky. The first time, their numbers were small enough for me to handle easily. The second time, we left soon afterwards. But if it happens early into a dangerous hunt, the scent could lead every goblin in the place straight to us. As I said, it can't happen again.” The Priestess sat down on the floor, placing her hands on her thighs and looking at her feet. “I was just so scared,” she whispered. “And after spending time traveling and moving through the caves, I really had to, and when I thought I was going to die, I just couldn't control it.” “None of that matters,” Goblin Slayer said. “Fear. Urgency. It's all irrelevant. You emptying your bladder in enemy territory is a threat to the whole party. It is a problem. So we are going to solve that problem.” Goblin Slayer stepped further into the room, placing the pitcher he carried on the floor in front of the Priestess. “Drink this. Every drop of it.” The blonde girl looked between the pitcher and Goblin Slayer. “What's going to happen?” she asked tentatively. “Isn't it obvious? You are going to learn how to hold your water, no matter the circumstances. Consider this to be training.” The Priestess eyed the pitcher. It was very large, containing at least three liters of water. “Are you really going to make me do this?” she asked softly. “Is it really that important?” “Yes. Drink.” He used his boot to slide the pitcher closer to the Priestess. “This is really weird,” she muttered. However, she reached out and gripped the pitcher, struggling to lift the heavy water-filled clay. “But you haven't steered us wrong yet. If you say that I'm a danger to the party, I'll do anything to improve myself.” She raised the pitcher to her lips and began to drink. As the Priestess sipped at her water, Goblin Slayer turned towards the door. “Finish that. I'm going to patrol the farm. Meet me outside when the pitcher is empty.” The Priestess nodded, and he left the small bedroom. ***** Goblin Slayer walked the fences of the farmstead, scanning the ground for any signs of disturbance. He checked every fence post, making sure they were sturdy, and he circled the outskirts of the property to ensure that no tracks could be seen. The process took just over half an hour, and as he approached the farmhouse, the Priestess stumbled out of the front door. Her eyes were hazy and she was breathing heavily. “I've never drank that much before in my life,” she exhaled as Goblin Slayer approached her. “You shouldn't drink that fast. It can make you sick,” he said. “You told me to!” she complained, waving her arms in frustration. “I never told you to drink it quickly, just to drink it,” Goblin Slayer stated. “Anyway, we're going to town. I need to purchase potions and check if any scrolls were brought in. Follow me.” He turned towards the path out of the farm and started walking without another word. The Priestess sighed and followed after him, struggling to keep pace with her stomach so full of water. The town was about an hour's walk from the farm, and as they passed the half way mark, Goblin Slayer came to a stop as he heard the Priestess muttering under her breath. “What is it?” he asked, turning to face her. “Nothing,” she said with a suppressed voice. “It's just...I'm already at the point that I would normally step behind a tree.” “Good,” Goblin Slayer said. “Don't complain about it though. Unnecessary noise attracts goblins just as well as scent does. Deal with it quietly.” And so they walked on, until the roofs of towers and homes became visible over the treeline. Goblin Slayer turned to the Priestess, noting her condition. She gripped her staff tightly, and she took small, hurried steps with her thighs held together. Her face was sweaty and reddened, but she remained silent. Until, that is, they approached the town gate. “Goblin Slayer,” she yelped quietly. “I...I really need to...” “That's the point,” he interrupted. “It's going to get difficult. Really difficult. And you are going to handle yourself like the professional adventurer that you are. Could you imagine the Sword Maiden flooding her robes? The High Elf Archer darkening the dirt beneath her? No. They are strong, and you need to be strong if you are going to continue following me. I kill goblins. If you want to help me do so, fine. But you can not jeopardize my mission.” The Priestess looked to the ground, her footing unsteady as she rocked her hips back and forth. “Yes, Goblin Slayer. I understand.” “Stop moving like that.” Goblin Slayer stepped forwards, pointing at her constantly shifting stance. “You need to be balanced. If I shoved you now, you would go straight down. How do you think you would fare against a goblin's club? Even when you're not in combat, you should train yourself to stay steady.” “If...if I stand straight, I'll really...” “The day has only just begun, Priestess. This is not your limit. Toughen up and follow me, we're going to the Guild Hall.” Goblin Slayer turned and began walking again. The Priestess released a muffled whine, forcing her legs to move properly as she proceeded after him. Her knuckles were white from gripping her staff so tightly, and her whole body was sweaty and burning hot. It's only been an hour since I finished the water, she thought to herself as she trailed Goblin Slayer through the streets. Am I really this weak, that I need relief so badly this soon? What if I wet myself in the streets...people here know me... And I don't want Goblin Slayer to see, but he probably won't let me out of his sight... The Priestess whined again and gripped the staff even tighter, holding it close to her body. Oh Merciful Earth Mother, grant me the power to hold on until I'm somewhere private... Of course, this was not a real Miracle that she had been granted, and so the staff remained inactive as the two of them approached the Guild Hall. Goblin Slayer threw open the heavy wooden doors and held them as the Priestess slowly made her way inside. “Sit there,” he ordered, pointing to an empty chair at one of the many tables nearby. “If I see you trying to sneak towards the privy, you'll drink another liter.” The Priestess nodded frantically, sitting on the chair and double-crossing her skinny legs. Goblin Slayer approached the counter, and the young woman sitting there turned to face him. “I need a quest-” “To kill goblins,” the woman interrupted him with a smile. “We all know the drill by now. I actually saved two quests for you. The one I think you'd be most interested in is this. A large mansion that was invaded by goblins two days ago, about fifty kilometers to the west of here. The mansion's residents managed to escape due to guards noticing the incoming threat. Nobody is injured, but they do want their home back as soon as possible, of course.” “How many goblins?” The Guild Girl pursed her lips and looked down at the quest sheet. “An estimated thirty, from what the guards saw before they fled. They also spotted two that were quite larger than the others.” “What's the other quest?” The woman set down the sheet and picked up the other one. “An estimated six goblins took over a cave where a farmer was growing mushrooms. They have not acted hostile towards him or his family, but they're causing a huge racket and they've already killed two of his cows.” “How far?” “Ten kilometers.” “We'll take that one for today.” The Guild Girl tilted her head slightly. “Are you sure? I thought you would want the one where you could rack up more kills.” “Normally, yes, but we can not make such a long journey today, for our own reasons. Also, nobody is in danger at the mansion, while the goblins in the cave could strike at any time.” “Very well, Goblin Slayer. The reward is-” “Doesn't matter. I'll be back tonight to collect whatever it is.” He turned away from the counter and strode across the room, stopping in front of the Priestess. “We have a quest. We head out as soon as I buy the potions I need and check for scrolls. Come now.” The Priestess looked up at him through unfocused eyes. Her knees bounced up and down frantically, and her arms were crossed tightly around her staff. Her cheeks and forehead were bright red, and her breathing was strained and loud. “I don't know if I can stand up,” she whispered. “I need relief so badly, Goblin Slayer. Please, let me go to the privy and let out even just a little bit, so I can keep walking...” “No,” Goblin Slayer stated. “If you release even a little bit in goblin territory, it will draw them to us. That is the purpose of this training, to teach you how to hold it for as long as you need to, even if you're frightened, even if you've been waiting all day.” “But you aren't 'teaching' me anything!” she complained. “You're just making me sit here, bursting, but I don't know how I can keep it in anymore!” Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment, and then he exhaled deeply. “You're right. Very well. Listen to me, then. Your body is capable of holding a lot more than you think it is. What causes the intense sensations you're feeling is your brain thinking that you're able to relieve yourself at any time. In town, you use the privy at an inn or in the Guild Hall. On the road, you do it behind a tree. Holding it this long isn't something that you normally do, so you aren't mentally prepared for it. You need to overcome that. You need to suppress the part of your mind that thinks you're allowed to relieve yourself and let your body do its job. Once your body understands that you will not be able to empty your bladder any time soon, the urgency will subside.” “You can't be right,” the Priestess mumbled. “I need it so, so badly. There's no way I could possibly hold any more. It's...it's gonna come out...” “Feel your stomach.” “Huh?” “Right under your navel. Press in on it.” The Priestess sighed and did as she was asked. She placed a hand on her stomach and pushed in on her soft skin. As she increased the pressure, she felt an immense jolt in her bladder that caused her to squeak and twist up her legs again. “Why are you making me press on my bladder, some almost just came out...” “Your skin is still soft. I saw how far you pressed in before you felt it. When your bladder fills, and I mean really fills, the skin will stretch and tighten as your bladder expands. When you can't compress the skin even one centimeter, that is when you are truly reaching your limit. That is the point you need to reach, and you need to be able to exist at that point for an extended period of time while remaining composed and combat-ready. You have to train your body to be unable to relax unless you want it to, and that is what we are doing today. Now stand up, put it out of your mind, and follow me.” Goblin Slayer turned and walked to the door of the Guild Hall, waiting with his gauntlet wrapped around the handle. The Priestess inhaled deeply and forced herself to her feet, fighting as hard as she could to stand steadily. She could feel the sweat between her thighs, her womanhood throbbing in desperation, her bladder contracting over and over again, knowing that there was a privy a mere ten meters across the room. However, she clenched her fists around her staff once more and followed Goblin Slayer back onto the busy street. The Alchemist's shop was only two doors over, and they quickly entered the small showroom. Rows of multicolored potions lined the shelves behind the counter, but the Alchemist was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, a tall and very busty woman in black robes, wearing a pointed hat over her long violet hair. The Witch stood near the right side of the counter, leaning forwards to read the labels on the rows of potions. As the two adventurers entered, she stood straight and looked to them. “Well hello there, Goblin Slayer,” she said in her usual slow, intentionally sexualized voice. “What brings you in...” she trailed off, turning her eyes to the Priestess, who was vibrating on the spot, one leg planted on the ground and the other folding up and down at a rate of twice per second. “Never mind, what's going on there?” she asked, pointing at the clearly distressed girl. “She wet herself twice while fighting goblins,” Goblin Slayer said simply. “I'm teaching her how to hold it in so it doesn't happen again.” “DON'T TELL PEOPLE THAT!” the Priestess shrieked, covering her face and turning around to face the wall. The Witch released a loud, sultry laugh, then strode over to the two of them. She placed a hand on the Priestess' shoulder and spun the girl around, leaning down to match her height. “Only Goblin Slayer would come up with training so...unique,” she said. “As unorthodox as it is, I have to say...the ability to go ages without relief is truly a gift for any adventurer. Especially if you're going after creatures sensitive to smells. If there's one thing that I know about our Goblin Slayer, it's that he is no pervert. You have nothing to worry about.” She stood up and looked over the counter, making sure the Alchemist was still out of sight. “You know, you shouldn't fold up your legs like that. It creates pressure. It feels so good to curl up and hold yourself, but if you really want to push your limits, you need to stand straight and do it with willpower alone.” “That's...that's sort of like what Goblin Slayer told me earlier...” the Priestess mumbled. “Well, it's true,” said the Witch. “When it gets really bad, your mind is what needs to be strong, it's not only about your body. It will take some time and practice to learn how to hold it properly, how to withstand the pain and pressure, but I believe in you.” The Priestess nodded and placed her other leg on the ground, shivering as she forced herself to stand still. “It's such a strange and powerful feeling,” she said, closing her eyes as she felt the waves of pressure between her legs. “I've never felt this before, do you really think I can keep holding it?” “How much did you drink?” the Witch asked. “It was... A little over three liters, I think,” the Priestess stated. “Oh wow,” the Witch said, a bit faster than her usual manner of speech. “That is a lot, and it's certainly going to come out at some point whether you like it or not. However, looking at you, I do think you do have some time left. If I could offer a bit of...womanly advice, you could try to learn how to...enjoy the sensations. That much pressure, right where it is. One could experience it as pain, or one could experience it as a source of pleasure.” The Priestess looked about ready to sink through the floor before Goblin Slayer intervened. “There's no place for pleasure while killing goblins. She has to learn how to deal with it while remaining focused. She'll-” He cut himself off as the alchemist finally stepped out from the back of the shop. The man eyed Goblin Slayer and the Witch, then turned towards his shelves of potions. “The usual orders?” he asked. “Yes,” Goblin Slayer stated, and the Witch nodded as well. The alchemist reached out and gathered up a number of small vials, then proceeded to pile them into two small sacks. He handed one to Goblin Slayer, and the other to the Witch. The two of them handed over some coin, and the alchemist thanked them and retreated back to his laboratory. “We're leaving,” Goblin Slayer said to the Witch. “See you next time.” “Please be careful with the girl,” the Witch said softly. “She isn't like us, she's not used to this kind of thing. If you push her too hard, she really might do it in the street. Such a thing is bad enough for a man, for a young woman it would truly be humiliating. Are you sure you won't grant her some relief before you move on?” The Priestess stood stiffly, her legs quivering but steady, the sweat on her deeply reddened face visible from across the room. Her eyes darted towards the door to the privy behind the alchemist's counter, the slightest flicker of hope growing in her tortured soul. Goblin Slayer turned to the Witch. He looked between her and the Priestess, and then shook his head. “Goblins will never be careful with her. Goblins aren't concerned that she isn't as experienced as us. Goblins will one day push her further than I ever could. You are right, she is not like us. But she has to become like us as soon as possible. Don't get in my way.” The Priestess' eyes lowered to the floor as Goblin Slayer pulled the door open and ushered her back onto the busy street. I can't take it anymore, the Priestess thought as she walked past dozens of citizens and other adventurers, her bladder contracting and throbbing with every step. I need to go, I NEED to, I can't walk any further like this, it's going to come out, right here in the street, everyone will see, I'll have to leave town. It's too much, the pressure is impossible to withstand. “GOBLIN SLAYER!” the Priestess yelped, reaching out and gripping his left gauntlet tightly. He stopped and looked down at her strained, teary face. “Goblin Slayer, I'm...I'm going to have an accident, I can't walk anymore. Please, you have to let me hide somewhere, you have to let me release some of it!” She could not see any expression through the slits in his helmet, but she knew that his eyes were locked on her own. She knew he could see the agony in her eyes, the absolute desperation that she felt. He had to understand that she couldn't go any further. Goblin Slayer slowly reached his right hand across his body, using it to detach her small hand from his arm. He then took his left hand and placed it gently on her shoulder, still staring straight at her. She had no idea what was going through his mind as he stood there for what had to be twenty seconds. And then he shook his head and removed his hand from her shoulder. “We're going to the blacksmith. Stay close.” The Priestess' arms dropped limply to her sides as the man began walking again. Drops of sweat fell from her chin, landing on her chest and boots. I guess I tried, she thought helplessly as she watched him walk away. I am trying. I really am. I understand that this will help me in the future, but I'm really at my limit. I guess I'll just do it here. It's not like I have a choice. The Priestess took a small step, separating her feet to shoulder width. As soon as she did so, she felt her bladder preparing to release itself all over her robes, boots, and the ground under her. The pressure built up, and she relaxed her muscles. Just as she felt her water preparing to burst out of her, felt that tingly and intense build up just before the release, the residual feeling of Goblin Slayer's hand on her shoulder slipped into her mind. Wait. Somehow, in a crime against reality itself, she held back. She realized it, just then. The reason why Goblin Slayer was doing this. I already know that he doesn't want me to become a liability. He doesn't want me to endanger the party. That's all true. But it's more than that. He wants to keep me safe. I felt it, when he was looking at me, even though I couldn't see his face. He doesn't want to be doing this any more than I do. He's fought so hard to protect me, almost died for my sake more than once. He cares about me. He really does. He wants me to become stronger so that if he's ever not there to save me, I can save myself. He doesn't want to put me through this, but he has to, because it's just one of many things that I need to do if I'm ever going to be his equal, if he's ever going to trust me the way that I trust him. The Priestess' hands found their strength again and gripped her staff tightly. She stood straight once more, biting her lip to restrain a shout as her bladder thundered, furious at the tease of relief it felt before being clamped shut again. And then she began to walk, step after step as her body cried out in torment, unable to comprehend why she was forcing it to endure such punishment. She pursed her lips and picked up her pace, catching up with Goblin Slayer just as he reached the door of the blacksmith's shop. As he reached for the door handle, she grasped his gauntlet again. “Priestess-” he started, clearly ready to scold her for her repeated attempts at gaining his permission for relief. “I understand,” she interrupted. “I get why we're doing this now, and I'll hold on as long as you want me to, no matter what. I'm sorry for doubting you. Let's go in.” Goblin Slayer stared at her for a moment, and then nodded slowly. “That's good to hear.” He looked to the door handle again, and after a moment, he dropped his arm. “Listen, it's almost certain that no new scrolls came in since yesterday. Let's get on the road. I'll stop by tomorrow." The Priestess blinked and her gaze turned to the road heading out of the town. "Really? We can leave already?" Goblin Slayer nodded slowly. "Yes. I choose to believe in you, that you'll continue to hold on despite being alone on the road with me. It is unnecessary for me to parade you around town as you are. You seem to have things figured out now, that this has to be done, so we will leave the town, head towards our objective, and you will be protected when you finally do reach your true limit." The Priestess performed some imitation of a salute, forcing her legs to stay still as her bladder's continued attempts to empty itself went without answer. "Thank you, Goblin Slayer. Now let's move." To Be Continued. Probably.
  5. Happy (almost) Halloween! Not that this story has anything to do with Halloween. This is a multi-part story I've had in my head for awhile, and (I think) I finally have enough weekends in a row to get it written down. Enjoy! *** Hunter Jessup slung an oversized duffel bag onto his left shoulder, then reached down to grab the old office box out of the back seat of the cab. He nodded at the cabbie and shut the car door with his knee. Turning to face the gleaming row of dorms, Hunter shifted his grip awkwardly. There was something profoundly unsettling about arriving on campus for new-student orientation as a transfer. The whole new-to-school thing didn’t feel as exciting when the vast majority of your classmates-to-be were already seasoned veterans. The signs directing new students to their respective dorms seemed garish under Hunter’s cynical, self-conscious gaze. McBride Hall, his home for the coming academic year, was halfway down the quad. In the lobby, Hunter forced a smile as the bubbly RA gave him his room assignment: room 135. Shaking his head at an offer to help him carry his things, Hunter made his way down the hall. …129…130…Hunter was relieved to see that his room seemed to be toward the end of the hallway, away from the stairs, elevator, and bathrooms. He preferred to be on his own, so he liked the idea of a low-traffic location. “135,” Hunter muttered to himself, reaching down to open the door with his elbow. The first thing that greeted Hunter was the sound of abruptly halted conversation, the kind that’s accompanied by an exaggerated record-scratch in the movies. A remarkably put-together-looking family stared at Hunter, who was frozen at the threshold. The pearl-wearing mother was the first to speak. “Can we help you?” She paused after the last word, as if she was going to add “dear,” but changed her mind after taking in Hunter’s hand-me-down appearance. “I…” Hunter hesitated, glancing at the number on the door again. 135. “This is my room.” The bespectacled father made a huffing noise, but the mother smiled. “There must be some mistake. We were told Cayden was to have a single room.” So Cayden was the silent third member of the family. Good to know. “This is where they told me to go, ma’am,” Hunter told her respectfully. He knew he was right. The RA might’ve given him the wrong room number, but he’d gone where he was told. He always did. The father was already moving toward the door with the self-righteous look of a man who was about to “take care of things.” Hunter ducked his head and slid into the room before Cayden’s dad reached the door; he wasn’t about the let the man shoulder him back into the hallway. “We’ll get this figured out,” the woman smiled benevolently at Hunter. Hunter nodded, trying not to look too exasperated with the woman’s presumption of correctness. He decided to play up his own innocence. “May I set my stuff down? I’ve been carrying it awhile.” The woman smiled again, looking more schoolmarm than maternal. “Of course. Just put it there by the door.” Hunter barely stopped from rolling his eyes, but at least he got to give his arms a break. Seemingly unable to handle silence, the woman spoke again. “I’m sure they have a room for you,” she addressed Hunter. “Cayden was assigned this room, and he can’t have a roommate for-“ “Mom.” Hunter nearly jumped at the quiet sound of Cayden’s voice. He hadn’t been sure the other boy could even speak. Cayden was smaller and had a soft, boyish look about him, a stark contrast to Hunter’s tall, rangy angles. The woman pressed her lips together, but didn’t continue her explanation. “Well. I’m just sure we’ll get this figured out.” Cayden reddened slightly, either from relief at the dropped subject or embarrassment at his mother’s continued condescension. For the first time, he met Hunter’s eyes. “I’m Cayden McBride,” he introduced himself. “And this is my mother, Sandra.” “Nice to meet you,” Hunter replied automatically. “Hunter Jessup.” Cayden might have obnoxious parents, but he wasn’t completed devoid of manners, he thought. Cayden dropped his gaze. He really didn’t know what else to say to this alleged interloper. The silence didn’t last long however, as an angry-looking Mr. McBride stormed back into the room, followed by an abashed staff member. “They lied to us,” Cayden’s father hissed, completely ignoring Hunter. Sandra’s eyes went wide; Cayden bit his lip. “I’m so sorry for the confusion, Mr. McBride,” the staff member began, clearly practiced in the art of appeasing parents. “I’m not sure who you spoke to, but transfer students are only guaranteed a room. We cannot assure that any transfer is granted a single. In fact, I’ve never know it to happen.” “This is unacceptable,” Mr. McBride blustered. Cayden stared at his dad miserably. “We were promised that Cayden would have a room to himself.” The staff member shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mr. McBride, but the standard letter promises a spot on campus. You’re welcome to contact the Residence Department, but for now, this is the only place we have for Cayden. And there are two beds, you see.” Hunter watched the veins pop out on Mr. McBride’s forehead. “Well…” the man sputtered. “Well, we were operating under the assumption that what we’d been promised would be fulfilled.” The staff member, presumably operating under the same assurance of his own defensible position that Hunter had used minutes earlier, kept responding calmly to Mr. McBride’s frustrated insistence. If the situation hadn’t involved him so directly, he would have been amused. At the moment, he just really wanted the interaction to be over. Luckily, the McBride’s seemed to share his desire. Or maybe they just couldn’t bear to be in a room with Hunter anymore. Either way, Cayden’s parents didn’t stay long. Sandra kissed her son and promised to be back for dinner, and Mr. McBride was muttering about unnamed people who would be “hearing from him.” When the door shut behind them, Hunter exhaled, already exhausted from the day so far. He reached for his duffel bag and glanced at Cayden to try to get a read on their new setup. “Um…” As uncomfortable as Cayden had looked with his overbearing parents, having them gone didn’t seem to improve his mood much. “I kind of…already put most of my stuff away.” Hunter shrugged. “I don’t have much. That one wardrobe should be more than enough space.” He turned away, sure that Cayden would notice just how little Hunter had brought with him, but the other boy didn’t react. “Do you mind if I take the bottom bunk?” Cayden asked, instead. Hunter consented, and in just a few minutes, the general configuration of the room was settled on. The staff member had been correct; the room was small, but it very distinctly housed two each of beds, dressers, wardrobes, and desks. The beds were bunked and nestled against the windows, with a row of thick bushes shielding them from the sidewalk. The desks were facing opposite directions, so the boys would have their backs to one another when they were both seated. Having arrived earlier and gotten mostly settled, Cayden stood awkwardly while Hunter put away his clothes and threw a blanket and pillow onto the top bunk. Hunter didn’t pay much attention, but Cayden finally spoke. “So…did you…did you know you’d have a roommate?” the shorter boy asked. Hunter shrugged. “I didn’t know to ask. The letter just said that I could have a spot on campus.” It was the truth. Hunter was here on full scholarship after spending a year excelling at his local community college. Sure, he would have preferred to live alone, but he’d learned not to question when you were given free things. Cayden didn’t quite meet Hunter’s eyes. “We just thought…it’s nothing against you…” Hunter shrugged again. “Look, man. We don’t have to be friends. I’ll stay out of your way, I don’t hold parties, I don’t play loud music, and if I watch shows or something, I’ll wear headphones. I’m not a slob, but I don’t really mind if you are. We’ll just stick it out for this year, and then we can get our own places.” Cayden looked simultaneously ashamed and relieved. “I mean…I’m sure you’re a nice guy…” The corner of Hunter’s mouth quirked up. “No harm, no foul,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.” Cayden smiled, which ended up looking more like a grimace, but seemed to accept Hunter’s assurance. He sat at his desk and flipped open his laptop, while Hunter finished unpacking. To Hunter, this was not a bad outcome. The university was fairly highbrow, so, despite their promise to meet all demonstrated financial need, the student body was still largely upper class. Hunter assumed there weren’t many other farm boys on campus. He knew he didn’t have the same social experiences (or, to be honest, the same social skills) as many of the other students, so he figured he’d just keep his head down and earn his degree. He didn’t begrudge Cayden his upbringing, but he certainly didn’t want to force the other boy into an uncomfortable social relationship. A few hours later, Mr. and Mrs. McBride returned to take Cayden to dinner. Cayden briefly glanced at Hunter, but there was no offer to bring him along. Hunter wasn’t bothered; he just grabbed his keys and ID and headed to the dining hall. A dining plan was included in his scholarship, but he also wanted to ask about getting a job. Within the hour, Hunter had filled up on burgers and fries and gotten assigned to work as a dishwasher for 15 hours per week. Back in the dorm, Hunter re-examined his class schedule, carefully filling in his calendar online with his courses and new work times. He added in reserved times for homework and readings, to make sure that he didn’t fall behind on his studies. Hunter didn’t look like a nerd; he looked like a hick, at best, or a vagrant. He knew that most people would see his old, somewhat ragged clothes and five-dollar haircut and assume that Hunter was the kind of person that really didn’t care about anything, since he clearly didn’t care about his personal appearance. If people looked at him at all, that is. Hunter had mastered the art of blending in, or, more appropriately, of not standing out. He worked hard and was very reliable, but he wasn’t the type to be nominated for employee of the month. He got excellent grades, but was never what you’d call teacher’s pet. He was just kind of unmemorable. By the time the McBride’s returned, it was nearly dark outside. Hunter was reading in bed – thankfully, the ceilings were high enough for him to sit comfortably on the top bunk – and Cayden’s parents ignored him completely. Sandra made a big show of hugging and kissing her “baby” goodbye, and Mr. McBride unsubtly slipped Cayden a wad of cash without bothering to insist that the funds were for emergencies only. Mr. and Mrs. McBride finally left, and Cayden sat down at his desk to get online. From his top-bunk vantage point, Hunter thought he could hear the other boy sniffling. He briefly considered saying something, but he opted for silence. After all, they weren’t friends. *** Really, Hunter and Cayden’s unspoken pact of non-interaction worked well. The only class they had in common was Economics, so their time together was largely limited to the dorm. Neither ever brought other people back to the room, instead spending their time working or watching movies on their respective computers. Hunter was comfortable, for the most part. He was doing exactly what he had hoped to do – keep up in his classes and do what was asked of him at work. He didn’t attend parties or football games, but he felt fairly relaxed. He could do this. Cayden, on the other hand, was feeling strained. He’d hoped that switching universities would make him feel better, more settled, and more competent, but he could already feel himself slipping into the same stressful spiral he’d experienced last year, at his old college. It wouldn’t happen this time, Cayden told himself. He was fine. He’d just keep going. Things were different here. They had to be. Cayden’s powers of denial were strong. He refused to ask for help or consult anyone. Because it wasn’t that bad, right? “It wasn’t that bad” is not exactly what Cayden was thinking as he woke up one Thursday morning in late September. Instead, he was jerked unceremoniously from sleep by a painful, desperate need to use the restroom. Biting back a whine, Cayden stumbled out of bed. He immediately grabbed himself, clutching between his legs with all his might. He shuffled toward the door, but stopped almost instantly when he felt a leak against the grip of his hand. Cayden twisted his hips frantically, trying to figure out what to do. The room was silent, save for the sound of his pajama pants swishing as his thighs rubbed together erratically. Hunter was still asleep on the top bunk. Cayden obviously couldn’t spare a hand to check his phone, but based on the level of light in the room and the fact that he’d woken before his alarm, he guessed it was around 7:30 in the morning. The hip-twisting took the worst edge off for a moment, and Cayden inched toward the door. He didn’t hear anyone in the hallway, so maybe he could make a run for it if he got a bit more control. But control wasn’t coming. As soon as Cayden tried to move, he leaked again, this time feeling a trickle down his inner left leg. He stopped again pressing his thighs together around his impossibly tight fist. Cayden could barely breathe. Some part of him probably knew that there was nothing to be done at this point, but it goes against the most deeply-ingrained human conditioning to just give up and urinate on the floor. Tears pricked in Cayden’s eyes, blurring his vision. He was leaking consistently now, warm liquid spreading down the thin material of his pajama pants. Almost unconsciously, he shifted sideways, moving off of the area rug his parents had bought to make the room look “less industrial.” Now standing in front of the sink, Cayden was bent nearly in half. Tears were running down his face; pee was running down his legs. Everything hurt, and his head was spinning. This couldn’t be happening…not again… With one last agonizing surge, Cayden’s bladder released completely. Hot urine spilled past his now-useless hand, falling in thick streams down both of his legs. Cayden wept silently, leaning against the sink in shame and exhaustion. The feeling of his accident soaking into his pants was equal parts shameful and surreal. This was a new school, a new dorm, a new year. This wasn’t supposed to happen here. The only sounds in the room were Cayden’s slightly labored breathing and the trickling of his pee onto the tile floor. After far too long, the trickle slowed to a drip, and Cayden wiped his dripping nose against the back of his wrist. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and cry. He wanted his mom. After a minute, a minute during which he probably couldn’t have moved if the dorm was on fire, Cayden took a deep breath, mindful of being quiet, and stood up. His pants were so heavy with pee, he had to grab them to keep them from falling. Hesitantly, he looked down to see the wide puddle beneath his feet. Fortunately, it didn’t stretch to the rug, though it was creeping toward the mini fridge. Lip trembling, Cayden gingerly tiptoed out of the puddle and reached for his towel, hanging on the side of the wardrobe. Gently placing it on the ground, he tried to sop up most of his mess, or at least keep it from spreading. With the humiliating evidence of his accident mostly contained, Cayden turned his attention to the heavy, drenched pajama pants he was still wearing. His thoughts raced disjointedly; he couldn’t just leave his wet things in the room. What if they started to smell? But he really wanted to shower first. What if he started to smell? But he certainly couldn’t just walk to the shower in his current state – someone might see him. And he didn’t want to put on new clothes before showering, just to get them dirty. Cayden was nearly pouting at this point. He didn’t have the greatest independent coping skills to begin with, and being trapped in a dorm room with a sleeping roommate while covered in your own urine was not a situation that had an obvious solution. An only child of fairly involved (okay, intrusive) parents, Cayden had not often been forced to account for his own mistakes. Already, he was starting to blame the location of the room (why would they even have rooms so far away from the bathrooms?), the unhealthy options in the dining hall (so irresponsible, allowing stressed students such open access to caffeinated, sugary drinks), and the dorm mattresses (surely, if he’d been on a proper mattress, he would’ve gotten more regulated sleep, allowing him to wake up before he was so desperate). Now armed with the same kind of self-assured anger his father had exhibited the first day, Cayden stripped off his wet pants and grabbed a pair of shorts. He didn’t have any “grubby” clothes, really, but the athletic shorts were loose enough, and he could throw them in the laundry with his pajamas, underwear, and the towel he’d used to clean up his accident. Dressed in dry clothes, if not yet clean, Cayden wiped up the rest of his mess, even wiping across the floor with a wet paper towel for good measure. He knew the dorm janitors didn’t clean residential rooms, so he’d have to find some bleach wipes or something later, just in case. He then threw the wet bath towel in his laundry bag, along with the sopping pajamas and underwear. He cinched the bag tight, hoping (assuming, really) that the smell wouldn’t get too bad before he got back from showering. Satisfied with his cleaning job, Cayden pulled out a clean towel and picked up his shower caddy. As softly as possible, he opened the bedroom door, looked around one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed any drops of urine, then headed to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him. And from the top bunk, Hunter let out a deep breath, unsure how to process what he’d just seen.
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