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  1. I decided to make a story about Manon from Street Fighter obsessed with holding in her pee to prove something. I have been playing Street Fighter since release and she is my favorite character by far, for… obvious reasons ;). So I made a short omo story for Manon. I hope you enjoy (constructive criticism is welcomed for better future story telling). Manon’s Pee Hold Manon stood in her dance studio, dressed in her tight, blue ballet dress. The fabric hugged her curves, accentuating her large butt, something that had been joked about on the internet. But she didn't care about that. Today was the day she would put her secret belief to the test. Manon has been obsessed with achieving true beauty. She discovered a belief from other French ballet dancers about how to achieve true beauty. A woman must hold in her pee and never give into her bodily needs. If she pees herself, she permanently disgraces herself. Manon was determined to make this belief true. "Today is the day," Manon whispered to herself, determination shining in her eyes. She filled her fitness bottle with water, nearly two liters of it, and drank it all. "Show time," she said, setting the bottle down. As she began to practice her ballet dances, Manon waited for the urge to pee to strike. And when it did, she ignored it, firmly holding it in. An hour passed, and she leaned against the bar on the wall, gazing at her stomach. Her bladder bulged out, protruding from her lower abdomen, showing just how full she was. She crossed her legs, but her face remained calm and determined. Hours went by, and the desperation grew. Her bladder bulge expanded, and yet, she resisted the urge to relieve herself. Glancing at the time, she realized she should get to bed. Sleep, after all, was essential for a beautiful woman like her. In bed, Manon squirmed and fidgeted, desperately trying to hold in her pee. She drank another two liters of water, then attempted to fall asleep. Despite the discomfort and pain, she managed to drift off. When Manon woke up, she was immediately hit by an overwhelming urge to pee. She stood up, double-crossing her legs and clenching her fists. Looking down at her stomach, she gasped. Her bladder painfully bulged out at the size of a soccer ball. "Ah, merde! I'm so full," Manon murmured through gritted teeth. Despite the agony she was in, she continued on, forcing herself to go to the kitchen and drink her morning tea, in which she struggled with every sip. Back in her dance studio, Manon stood there, tightly crossing her legs in desperation, clenching her teeth. Her bladder had swelled to the size of a watermelon, and she trembled with the effort to hold it in. But even in the face of extreme agony, she refused to give in. She muttered to herself, "I am strong. I am elegant. I am pure beauty." With each passing minute, Manon's need to relieve herself intensified. Her bladder now held a gallon of urine, but still, she pressed on. She continued to practice her ballet, her movements flawless despite the immense pressure she felt within her. Manon never peed again. She became a legend in the dance world, known for her unwavering dedication and control. But behind that façade of beauty, elegance, and grace, she carried a burden—a bladder perpetually on the brink of bursting. And yet, she persisted, her determination to achieve pure beauty never wavering. These days, her bladder continues to grow. Now it’s the size of a wrecking ball, but she continues to hold it and dance perfectly. Her audience though report hearing her painful and desperate moans and whimpers when she dances on stage so elegantly and beautifully… The End
  2. Hi Omo Lovers: If you love absolute nail biting desperation, putting our heroine to stretch her lmits, the this story is for you. Presenting to you all: Poonam, a famous and bold actress from India. Prologue: Poonam came home drunk and exhausted after a long day at work and the bladder burst cotnest with her friends which she won by a significant margin. Without bothering to go the bathroom she eagerly fell into bed, ready for a good night's sleep. However, her bladder had other ideas. It was full to the brim, and she could feel the pressure building. She tried to ignore it, thinking that she could hold on until morning, but her bladder had different plans. As she drifted off to sleep, Poonam found herself in a strange dream. She was walking through a maze, desperately searching for a bathroom. Every door she opened led to another dead end, and she could feel her need to pee growing more and more urgent. It was like a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. In her dream, Poonam was frantically searching for a bathroom, but in reality, she was tossing and turning in her bed. She was in a constant state of discomfort, and every movement she made only seemed to make it worse. She could feel the pressure building inside her, and she knew that she couldn't hold on for much longer. In the dream, Poonam finally stumbled upon a bathroom, but it was occupied. She banged on the door, begging the person inside to hurry up, but they refused to budge. In reality, Poonam was still tossing and turning, her bladder feeling like it was about to burst. She was getting desperate, and she knew that she had to find a way to relieve herself soon. As the dream continued, Poonam's desperation grew more intense. She was running through the maze now, trying to find a bathroom before it was too late. But in reality, she was still in bed, squirming and wriggling as she tried to find a comfortable position. She could feel herself starting to leak, and she knew that she had to do something quickly. And that’s when she woke up. The fateful morning: Poonam was a name that echoed through the Indian film industry. Her bold and exhibitionist nature had made her a darling of the tabloids. Her sultry looks and unapologetic admission of going under the knife to gain massive boobs, had only added to her fame. But beneath all of that, she was a gifted actress, and her big break was finally within reach. She had landed an audition for the lead role in an indie film that was highly anticipated, and the opportunity was too good to pass up. The day of the audition was supposed to be the biggest day of Poonam's life. She had set her alarm for 7 am to give herself plenty of time to prepare for the audition at 10 am. But when she woke up, she realized that she had overslept. Her heart raced as she looked at the clock, realizing that it was already 9 am. Panic set in as she jumped out of bed, frantically trying to gather her thoughts and get ready as quickly as possible. As she rushed to get dressed, Poonam felt an intense urge to empty her bladder. Her body had been religiously containing all the water and beer she had been chugging from the previous evening, and now it was screaming for release. Any other girl would already be sitting on the toilet emptying herself but being in showbiz, she was used to being desperate all the time. She decided that her bladder needed to keep the piss in. Besides, she didn't have time to stop and take care of it. Poonam stood in front of her full-length mirror, sweating profusely and one hand nursing her little bladder bulge. Her outfit for the day was a dangerously low cut top and extremely tight leather pants, coupled with stilettos. But as luck would have it, she struggled to put them on. Thanks to her nagging bladder and her slight gain in weight. She had been trying for what felt like an eternity, but they just wouldn't budge past her thighs. She had been determined to wear them to the audition to impress everyone, but now she was regretting her decision. Poonam took a deep breath and pulled with all her might; her face contorted with effort. She was grateful that she was alone in her room, as she didn't want anyone to witness her embarrassing struggle. She tried to wiggle them up inch by inch, but it seemed like the pants had a life of their own and were fighting back against her. She took a break to cool down and clench her muscles, but the pants seemed to have grown tighter in the meantime. She hopped around the room, trying to loosen them up, but it only made things worse. The leather pants seemed to be mocking her, as if saying, "Ha! You thought you could wear us? Think again!" Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Poonam managed to wiggle into the pants, but they were so tight that she couldn't even bend over to pick up her phone. Once she buttoned them up, her urge to pee shot up twice. She had to waddle around the room, trying to stretch them out, but it only made her look like a penguin trying to dance. She sighed and accepted her fate, knowing that she was going to have to spend the entire evening in these unforgiving leather pants. Right now, the audition was the priority. Peeing can wait for some other convenient time. Poonam ran out of the door, her heart racing, fuelled by her passion for acting and the fear of missing out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As she arrived at the audition, Poonam was breathless and sweating profusely. Her nerves were shot, but she tried to compose herself. When she was called in to start the audition, Poonam knew that she had to give it her all, despite her physical discomfort. For the next hour, she clenched her muscles hard and poured everything she had into the audition. She delivered her lines with conviction, showing her range as an actress, and leaving it all on the stage. But all the while, she was fighting an intense urge to pee that was threatening to overwhelm her. Her tight leather pants and stilettos were making things even worse. The sharp stilettos were biting into her flesh, making it difficult for her to stand still. Her bladder was screaming for release, and she could feel the wetness spreading through her pants. But she gritted her teeth, determined not to let it show. The tension in the room was palpable as Poonam struggled to maintain her composure. Every second felt like an eternity, and she could feel the sweat running down her back. Her breathing was laboured, and she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. It was a battle of wills, and Poonam refused to be defeated. After an exhausting and gruelling afternoon of auditioning, Poonam stumbled out of the room, her legs weak and her bladder on the brink of explosion. She had never felt such desperation before and was practically hallucinating about floating toilet bowls. Her phone buzzed, reminding her of her flight in just one hour. With a sense of urgency, she hailed a cab, determined not to waste any more time. The flight: As the cab sped towards the airport, Poonam's discomfort grew more intense. She fought to maintain her composure, doing kegels non-stop to hold back the flood. But the pressure in her abdomen was becoming unbearable, and she could feel sweat pouring down her forehead. She rushed through check-in and security, but her distress only continued to mount. By the time she boarded the plane, Poonam was on the verge of tears. She was so uncomfortable that she could hardly comprehend how to put on the seat belt. She tried to distract herself with thoughts of the successful audition she had just completed, but all she could think about was the desperate need to use the bathroom. The plane took off, and Poonam's discomfort only intensified. She shifted in her seat, trying to find relief, but nothing seemed to help. She watched a movie, listened to music, but her mind was consumed with the pain in her abdomen. A few soft drinks and 2 painfully slow hours later, the captain announced that they were approaching their destination, Poonam felt a surge of relief. Throughout the flight the seat belt signed remained on – perhaps the pilot forgot to turn them off. Poonam knew she wouldn't be able to use the bathroom until they landed. She was going to burst. When the plane touched down, Poonam was the first to disembark. The bathrooms at the airport were across the long hall of luggage conveyors but they were closed due to cleaning. She had no choice but to hurry to the waiting cab. Her three-hour journey was without any restroom stops, and the discomfort only got worse. No amount of distraction could take her mind off from her all-consuming need. She begged the driver to stop at a rest stop, but he refused, and Poonam felt like she was going to have a medical emergency. In desperation, Poonam pleaded with the driver again to find a bathroom, but there was nothing for miles. As the pressure built inside her, her body tensed up, and she felt like she was going to collapse. It was the most intense discomfort she had ever experienced, and she knew that she was running out of her capacity. 28 hours had passed since she last used the toilet. Given her hectic schedule she restricted herself to one or max two pees a day. These were uncharted waters for her. The anxiety was overwhelming, and Poonam was starting to panic. The photoshoot: Poonam never thought that being an actress could be so painful. She was currently shooting an overnight ad campaign, and her stylist had chosen the tightest, most constrictive rubber catsuit she had ever worn. It was like wearing a second skin that was crushing her bulging bladder. And to make matters worse, she had made a grave mistake: drinking a massive bottle of water on her way to the shoot, thanks to the hot weather. At first, she kept repeating to herself that she was strong and apply “Mind over matter” concept. But as the hours passed by, her bladder grew fuller and fuller, and her discomfort reached unimaginable heights. She was sweating bullets, her eyes darting around the set, looking for a way out, but there was none. Her stomach was rumbling, and her bladder was on the brink of exploding. She knew that she was in trouble. The director called for another take, and Poonam gritted her teeth. She tried to concentrate on the shoot, but all she could think of was her the brewing pressure between her legs. She was doing a photo shoot on a yacht, and the water around her was mocking her. She felt like screaming, but instead, she just posed, holding her breath, and praying for the shoot to be over soon. But the shoot didn't end anytime soon. The director kept calling for more and more takes, and Poonam felt like she was dying. Every time she moved; she felt a new wave of pressure hitting her bladder. She couldn't even think straight anymore. Her body was on autopilot, and her mind was consumed with a single thought: “bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.” Hours passed, and the sun started to rise. The shoot finally ended, and Poonam was allowed to leave. She stumbled off the yacht, her legs shaking, and her eyes glazed. She was so desperate to relieve herself that she didn't care about anything else. 38 hours and nearly 2 litres of piss being pumped into her bladder Poonam needed help, and fast. But her nightmare was far from over. As Poonam stumbled off the set, the next reminder on her phone told her that to rush to a shopping mall for the launch of a famous perfume line, and the journey was going to take another two hours. Poonam regretted all the juices she had consumed during the night and the short breakfast break earlier. Due to paucity of time, she chose to continue wearing the tight rubber catsuit. It only added to her misery. She was now in excruciating pain, and she struggled to keep a straight face. The Mall Visit: Once she reached the mall, Poonam longingly looked at the door of the washrooms. But the frenzy of the crowd meant that the washrooms were off limits. Poonam's heart sank once again. She didn't know how much longer she could go without using the restroom. As she launched her perfume line and posed for photos, Poonam knew that she had to find a way to escape and use the bathroom. Her discomfort had turned into agony, and she was on the verge of collapsing from the intense pressure building up inside her. She tried to take deep breaths and stay calm, but with more and more pee gushing into her bladder the tightness of her costume increased. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sit, breathe or do anything normally. The urge to relieve herself was becoming unbearable, and she felt like she was going to explode. Poonam whispered to her assistant and begged her to find a restroom as soon as possible, but due to security reasons, she was not allowed to leave her designated schedule or place. Her frustration and desperation grew with each passing moment. Every step that she took to move sloshed the bowling ball sized bladder inside her. As the day wore on, Poonam's bladder continued to swell. The only difference being that nobody was able to see underneath the flat corset like structure of the catsuit lied a severely compressed bladder. To add to her misery, Poonam now had to have lunch with the sponsors and the magazine guys. They were taken to a posh restaurant. She was sweating profusely, but it wasn't the heat that was causing her discomfort. It was the tight and constrictive outfit she was wearing, coupled with an extremely full bladder that made her feel like she was about to burst at any moment. To make matters worse, she had just finished eating an extremely hot and spicy lunch. She thought the water would help cool her off, but now she regretted it. Her bladder was already begging for relief, and the copious amounts of water she drank were only making it worse. Poonam tried to distract herself from the discomfort by focusing on conversating with others around the table, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. She shifted in her tight outfit, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was impossible. She felt like she was wearing a straitjacket that was slowly crushing her bladder. The photographers kept calling out instructions to hold the glass of wine or pose in a certain manner, turn her head and what not. But Poonam could barely concentrate. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of finding a bathroom. She tried to hold it in, but her body was beginning to rebel. Every move she made felt like a ticking time bomb. She felt beads of sweat pouring down her forehead and trickling down her back. She was a hot mess. The lunch seemed to drag on for an eternity, and Poonam was becoming increasingly fidgety. She tried to subtly signal to her assistant that she was in dire need of a bathroom break, but she was too focused on eating lunch herself. When she tried to excuse herself, but her security team told her that it wasn't safe to leave without them. Poonam's frustration and desperation grew with each passing moment. She felt trapped and helpless, and her body was now profusely sweating. She was nearing the end of her tether. The Fashion Show: Poonam knew that she couldn't go on like this for much longer but her damned schedule was packed to the brim. In next two hours she found herself in an even more elaborate setting, a judge of a fashion show. She was at the front row and her task was to carefully examine each model as they walked down the runway. The clothes were stunning, and the models looked effortlessly chic, but Poonam couldn't focus on anything other than her own discomfort. She tried to shift in her seat, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. Every movement kept worsening her desperation somehow. Her vagina lips quivered non-stop, and legs were crossed tightly, her hands were fidgeting in her lap, and her forehead was beaded with sweat. She was in agony, but she couldn't let anyone know. After all, she was the judge of the fashion show, and she needed to maintain her composure. As the next model walked out onto the runway, Poonam's focus shifted from the clothes to her own bodily functions. She could feel her bladder screaming for release, and she knew that she couldn't hold it in any longer. She shifted in her seat once more, trying to find a way to relieve the pressure without anyone noticing. But it was no use. The urge was too strong, and she was too embarrassed to ask for a break. Time simply refused to pass but Poonam's desperation kept on increasing. She could not comprehend how was she still getting more frantic. She was sweating profusely now, felt the dampness spreading down her back. The heat and sweat inside her rubber catsuit was making her thirsty so, she had to keep chugging water to cool herself off. It was a vicious cycle. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out, but there was no escape. 3 excruciatingly slow hours later, the last model walked down the runway, and the show was over. Poonam jumped up from her seat, almost knocking over her chair in the process. However, an escape was not happening yet. As she heard her name being called, Poonam took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. She plastered a smile on her face and started to speak, but her mind was racing. All she could think about was how badly she needed to pee. She had not gone for over 42 hours now and her bladder was relentlessly trying to push all the pee out of her body. But for now, with all eyes of her, Poonam had to suffer in silence. She fumbled to open the envelopes and make sense of the forms and cards handed over to her. Over a minute or two of awkward silence on the mic, she started to read out the names of the runners-up with a shaky voice. Poonam's bladder began to spasm. She shifted from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to find some relief. But it was no use. She was at the verge of exploding. Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Poonam read out the name of the winner, and the crowd erupted in cheers. But all Poonam could think about was how badly she needed to pee. She tried to hurry offstage, but the photographers wanted a few more shots. She smiled for the cameras, but inside, she was in agony. Her otherwise flamboyant style of seductive poses was replaced by schoolgirl like poses. Her hands were firmly placed on her bladder as if carrying its load and lips were permanently pursed. The vein on her forehead was bulging out with the strain of holding back the flood. She cursed herself for getting into this situation. As soon as the last pap clicked the photo she rushed out of the room, her hand pressed tightly against her crotch. She could almost see the light from heavens when the show was over. She prayed for a toilet to pop out magically. It was sheer luck or as-if the gods listened to her prayers, her eyes finally fell on the door ladies toilet shining at a distance. She started taking baby steps towards it with bated breath. Her vagina was burning with the pee trying to explode out. The Interview: Poonam’s hand almost reached the handle of the door just when her assistant caught hold of her and pulled her away from the toilet. She yelled at the assistant, but the latter stood her ground. There was simply no time for a bathroom break. And given the tight contraption of the rubber costume, Poonam would require at least an hour to get in and out of the suit, followed by the touch up of makeup. Plus the media would ridicule her and make memes out of her visit to the toilets. They absolutely needed to leave immediately for the interview with FMH magazine. Fame before everything else – Poonam’s assistant quoted her. Poonam's heart sank. She didn't know how much longer she could hold it in, and the thought of enduring another event without relief was unbearable. But an hour later, she was on the stage with a well-known host surrounded by lights and cameras. As the interview began, Poonam sat down in a chair and crossed her legs, trying to act calm and collected. However, she soon realized that her outfit was causing her some serious discomfort than even before. One of the belts at the back of her dress had slipped to the next notch while adjusting it in the car. The catsuit was squeezing her bladder tighter and tighter. She felt as if it was shrinking by the minute. The ribs of the corset dug into her bladder and her control was wavering. A full gallon was compressed inside her constricted bladder for nearly 2 days now. The interviewer, oblivious to Poonam’s predicament kept asked her a series of questions. Rather it was a laundry list of questions. Thanks to Poonam’s absolute control over her expressions, she looked calm and tried her best to answer them as if nothing was wrong. In reality, her mind was entirely focused on her the stinging bladder pain. The pressure was mounting. The box of tissues given to her on set was now exhausted. After half an hour she started fanning her legs involuntarily. It was a do or die situation for her. The room felt like it was getting hotter by the minute, making her situation even worse. As the interview dragged on, Poonam's bladder grew more and more insistent. She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to find some relief, but nothing worked. She could feel a tiny bit of pee leaking out, and she knew that she was in deep trouble. The interviewer seemed concerned, but she ignored it and the cameras kept rolling. Poonam tried to hold on, but a big spurt escaped into her tight undies causing her to jolt. It was too much for her to handle. Suddenly, in the middle of a question, she blurted out, "Excuse me, I need to use take a break, if its, Ok? It’s getting very hot in my outfit" "We will turn the AC further down, but could you just wait half an hour more - we are rolling hence." Poonam politely agreed to wait, but her bladder was on fire. Now with the AC temperature lowered further, she now had to battle the cold. It was a catastrophic situation for her. The interview continued, and Poonam's bladder became more and more insistent. She was squirming in her seat, her face contorted in discomfort. She couldn't concentrate on anything the interviewer was saying, and her mind was completely blank except for the thought of finding a bathroom. Just when she thought she couldn't hold on any longer, the interviewer finally wrapped up. Poonam quickly stood up, barely able to walk straight. She made her way out of the room, her legs shaking. Her assistant came running to her aid and escorted Poonam to her car. On their way they passed the glorious ladies’ toilets. Poonam tried her best to convince her guards to they told her that the toilets were locked. The Final Leg: As Poonam got into the car, she knew she needed to find a restroom fast. She warned her assistant that finding a bathroom was her only priority. Her assistant asked the driver to speed to the nearest hotel. Her bladder was on the verge of bursting. Her legs simply kept scissoring involuntarily. Her hands seemed to be glued to her crotch. The seams of the tight rubber outfit dug into the apex of her bladder. d she could barely sit still. They finally arrived at the hotel, but all the rooms were booked. Poonam had tears in her eyes and pressure rising. The assistant pleaded with the staff to find a solution, but they refused to help them out. Poonam had to spend the night in her car, unable to relieve herself for almost 10 more hours. The night was hell for Poonam. She tried to distract herself by listening to music, but the discomfort was almost unbearable. As dawn broke, she headed to the airport, but the journey took longer than expected due to an accident. Poonam was pulling her hair out in desperation. Finally, they arrived, and she rushed to the restroom but heard the final boarding call. She had to choose between the relief and the flight back home. She chose the latter and settled into her seat, hoping for some relief during the flight. The onboard restrooms were closed due to turbulence, which made Poonam's discomfort worse. She tried to distract herself with thoughts of her loved ones, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Every time the plane shook a jet of pee shot into her thongs. She tightly grabbed her crotch and held her breath to stem the flow. The mere thought of enduring the flight without relief was too much to bear. Poonam's body was in agony. Every breathe felt like a knife being stabbed in her bladder. Her lower back ached, her thighs numb and vagina on fire. She called the airhostess to ask how much longer the flight had before landing but the news was not good. To prevent entering the storm the pilot was taking a longer route which meant additional hour of time. She turned white with fear. Waiting for each minute was like a year for her and the air hostess dropped a bomb on her telling that there was additional hour to go. 66 hours of pee boiled inside her bladder threatening to flood the entire cabin. Poonam closed her eyes and prayed for the plane to land soon, but the wait seemed never-ending. As the plane finally touched down, Poonam took baby steps out of the flight and inched towards the restrooms. Her body was simply not in a position to wait any longer, and she could feel herself leaking just by seeing the symbol of the ladies' room. But as she finally reached the restroom, she was devastated to see that the line for the ladies' room was incredibly long. Poonam pleaded with the women in front of her to allow her to go first, but nobody cooperated. She was forced to leave the airport, carrying her swollen bladder, and feeling utterly defeated. The Final-Final Leg: As she sat in the cab, Poonam's desperation grew more and more unbearable. Every bump on the road sent shock waves through her body, and she clutched the seat tightly, trying to hold it in. Finally, she reached the parking space of her apartment, but the challenge was far from over. Poonam knew that she was running out of time. She got out of the cab, her heart pounding with fear, and tried to walk as calmly as possible. But her bladder was now beyond her control, and she felt spurts of pee escape with every breathe. She was still a few meters away from her building, and the road connecting the parking space to her building was busy with people and vehicles. If anyone saw Poonam they would assume Poonam had stepped out right after a bath. Her eyes were red and body drenched with sweat. So much sweat that every movement caused a squelching noise. The passer by looked at her with astonishment and concern. When anyone tried to approach her Poonam simply signaled them with her hands to step away. Each milli-second was precious. Finally, she reached the door of her building, her hands shaking with desperation. She managed to open the door and rushed to the elevator. The elevators in her building were the fastest in the city but on this fateful day, it seemed to have slowed down. The lift took nearly 3 minutes to come down from the 60th floor. Poonam was nearly curled up on the floor. Her breath was labored, and hot jets of piss kept erupting out of her pussy. 73 hours’ worth of piss was confined in her cavernous bladder which had stretched beyond its limits. Her muscles were cramped and overworked. She wept silently once she got into the elevator. Every passing ding was like a hammer blow to her bladder. People came in and went out on different floors forcing Poonam to stand straight and act normally. Nearly 7 long minutes later, Poonam crawled to her apartment. She frantically pee danced in front of the door muttering curses under her breath. But the keys were nowhere to be found. With one hand shoved inside her crotch almost cutting through the rubber, she struggled to open all the compartments in her handbag. The insides of her rubber outfit were now getting warm. She screamed in frustration and collapsed down. She simply couldn’t believe her luck. After 3 long days without using the toilet, after enduring so much torture and pain, she finally reached her apartment, hoping to find some relief, only to be faced with another challenge. Fate seemed to play a sick game with her as-if they were trying to prevent Poonam from peeing at any cost. But Poonam knew that getting angry wouldn't solve the problem. To her utter dismay her mobile battery had dried out. In a fit of rage, she threw it on the wall. Tears rolled down her cheek. The in-built corset was not enough to hide her bladder bulge. It was sticking out obscenely. Her head started spinning merely thinking about the amount of piss she was holding. She took help of the wall and stood up. Gravity was wreaking havoc on her heavy bladder and her needle thin heels were burning her calves. She straightened herself, took a deep breath and started walking towards the lift. Minutes later she reached the reception of the building. The receptionist was confused because Poonam was struggling to frame sentences now. “C-C-Call a locksmith” A whisper came out of Poonam’s mouth. “Sorry Ma’am” The receptionist “CALL A FUCKING LOCKSMITH NOW!” The receptionist was taken aback. She immediately dialed the locksmith. Poonam requested her for a private lobby or a cabin to sit in but there were none. So, she was forced to sit in the open lobby where each passer-by could see her. Her body was shaking vigorously. She sat on her heels rocking. She could taste her piss at the back of her tongue. Despite all this she was forced to keep her hands away from her crotch. Her lips throbbed and she barely had any strength to clench her muscles any harder. It took another two hours to get a locksmith. By the time he arrived she had leaked a copious amount of piss inside her tight catsuit. The leakage would be equivalent to a normal woman’s most desperate pee. Poonam followed the locksmith who managed to open the door. As she was tried to rush inside the locksmith he demanded for his payment. Poonam was weeping now. The toilet was just a few feet away from her and still she could not rush. She barely kept cash in her handbag. She requested him to wait for a few minutes but he was adamant that he was running out of time. Poor Poonam walked to her closet and there was none. She begged him to allow her some time to arrange and take the cash later in the day, but he was firm. Little did he know that a full gallon of piss was compressed inside her bladder. The bulge in her bladder was hard as steel, which distorted the corset. Her pregnant like bulge covered her entire midriff. If she could, she would have slapped that locksmith and gotten him thrown out but that would damage her reputation. So, she gritted her teeth, hobbled to an ATM and gave him the cash. Poonam’s body was on autopilot. She barely registered how she was functioning. Her skin inside her tight catsuit was taut. One could see her veins had she been naked. The pee which she had leaked earlier had now gotten somewhat cold and were rubbing against her pussy driving her mad. All the muscles in her thighs were tensed as if she had just finished a cycling race. Her back was arched, and her hair was all messy. But more than all that her muscles were strained beyond imagination. One after the other they spasmed. After a long strenuous walk from the ATM to the elevator and then to her apartment, Poonam had finally made it home. Her makeup was running down her sweaty face, just like her piss leaking from her vagina. But she had made it without a single trip to the bathroom in the last 3 days and over a gallon of steaming piss inside her bladder. Once the door closed, she could not walk anymore though. Her body simply refused to listen to her commands. She was seeing stars in front of her eyes. Sweat oozing out throughout her body. Her body shook violently. “Aahhhhh” she cried and collapsed on the floor, breaking the needle stiletto heels. The impact was too much for her. Her muscles simply could not bear any more strain. The jerk hit her like a freight train and boom! Her floodgates burst opened. “Noooooo!” Poonam cried, clasping her crotch. A violent gusher erupted out of her pussy forming a bulge at her crotch, as if there was a hard dick inside. That’s when she realized how hot the piss coming out was. It felt as if it was artificially heated. None of the piss was spreading out or leaking on the expensive rug below, thanks to the thick rubber outfit. All the tight confinement was giving an intense pleasure to Poonam. She orgasmed multiple times as the thick ferocious flow continued over a minute in full strength. A hissing sound akin to an open tap filled the room. Her eyes rolled up and her breath was short and swallowed. A gallon of piss filled up her catsuit and her legs, her crotch, her ass everything was squelching with hot piss. It was strangely titillating. As piss continued to gush out of her, she ran her hands all over her body feeling her up. After close to 2 and a half minutes the torrent finally stopped all of a sudden. Her muscles contracted violently to push everything out at once. Just when she tried to get up, one more hot stream of piss erupted again. Her kidneys were pumping piss into her bladder, and it was releasing them in real-time. This one was even stronger, sending her into an orgasm overdrive. Over a minute later her stream finally came to an end, gifting her a massive orgasm. Poonam was now lying on the floor with her fingers rubbing her piss-soaked clit, enjoying the bliss of her finally empty bladder. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to have an empty bladder. As she tried to get up an epiphany struck her. “What if I can bring myself to an orgasm every time I hold it to my limits?” Poonam bit her lips in anticipation as she geared up for her next big voluntary hold. The next day Poonam had her toilet bowl removed from her home, making the entire media go crazy. Poonam being Poonam, announced it to the world, “You know what’s my secret to strongest orgasms people – holding my pee till I burst!” She was now an omorashi addict, officially.
  3. Hi Omo Lovers! Presenting a new character for all of you. Please welcome Ms. Yana, the sexiest office lady who will go any lengths to hold her pee and act professionally. Releasing the story soon. . .
  4. From the album: sleeping_cat01's scribbles

    The cat has decided to never let go, so we can make chemistry jokes about their appearance as much as we like, nyaa~
  5. All day Candy tries again Candy set herself her usual target: all day without a pee. After the disaster that was yesterday she was more determined than ever. Using the bathroom was just so time consuming, distracting and inconvenient and the feeling of a full bladder was delicious, thrilling and exciting. She’d woken horny in her strapless nighty, her large breasts feeling sensitive and tingly, her nipples hard and longing. Just touching her own body set it on fire as she suddenly pressed her hand between her legs and stroked her naked vagina. She hadn’t used the bathroom before bed and urgently had to go, so urgently she was seconds away from wetting the bed. Jumping up she ran to the toilet and released a huge long pee as she tweaked her nipples with fingers wet from her own vagina. She sighed in satisfaction and relief but also in excitement that this would be the last time she went for at least 12 hours. Regardless how desperate she got she would hold today until bedtime. There was nothing like the ecstasy of a huge long release after a long hold to bring her massive sexual desire and Candy knew that the longer the hold the better the high of the release, like a full day of fore play before sex. Candy showered, put her make up on naked, then dressed in a figure hugging revealing black dress that sat above her knees with her favourite bra and matching lace knickers. She made herself an instant coffee and buttered a croissant then after breakfast drove to work in her cosmetic shop. The mall she worked in was warm and before opening Candy made herself a mug of tea. First trade was usually quiet and she hoped she’d get to drink it all. Her colleague still wasn’t back until next week so Candy set about updating her window display and blowing some balloons up for some colour. The morning flew in with a steady trickle of customers and Candy had a lovely surprise when the newsagent next door popped in with a fresh roll from the nearby bakers and a latte. Mukesh was lovely and Candy admired him as a fellow businessman. They helped each other take in deliveries when busy and exchanged cash now and again if they needed change. Candy paid Mukesh and thanked him as she cleaned a shelf of lipsticks. Heading back to the till with the filled roll and drink Candy sat behind the desk away from the public as she had another working lunch. With the door of the shop open a light draft sent cold air under the table and onto Candy’s bare legs making her shiver a little and cross her legs. She smiled to herself realising she’d had the first signal from her bladder knowing it would get stronger and stronger as the day went on. True to her thoughts by mid afternoon Candy was much more aware of her body and her bladder especially. By 3:40 the tingling was becoming more distracting but Candy knew no matter how much her body protested she would make it wait. When Mukesh popped by asking if she had change of a ten pound note Candy wasn’t even aware that her legs were constantly moving and her thighs squeezing. As Candy leaned forwards to open the till drawer Mukesh had a clear view of her breasts as her dress moved down her chest as she leaned over. Coming to the front of the till Mukesh watched as Candy crossed her high heeled strapped sandals on the floor and swung her knee in and out rhythmically. Handing Mukesh the change and taking the note it was clear Candy was distracted and fidgety. Mukesh smiled and left having enjoyed the view. Candy was extremely attractive and seeing her movements was quite a turn on. Back alone Candy tried distracting herself with work, revelling in the beautiful tingling sensation between her legs. When a late customer came in close to finishing Candy struggled to stay still. Her whole body longed to relax and release but Candy loved the feeling so much she refused to give in. She wriggled openly on the seat behind the till then struggled to concentrate when the customer asked a simple question. Candy could feel her body yearning, bursting, desperate, but even at the risk of the customer noticing she couldn’t hide it any longer. Her squirming and fidgety behaviour was increasing her sexual desire and she was enjoying herself immensely. Finally Candy closed the shop, cashed the till up and left out the back door passing the toilet she never used. In her own car she grabbed between her legs and squirmed like crazy to keep holding back, loving every second of the feelings it gave her. As always the traffic was quite heavy and throughout the journey Candy spoke to herself ‘So gotta pee. So not going! Bursting but you can hold this Candy. Don’t you dare pee yet!’ Arriving home intensified the feelings immensely and Candy pee danced around her house as she hung her coat up and made her way to her kitchen. Yesterday she had held right through cooking and wet herself washing dishes but tonight she was absolutely determined she would hold it longer. Regardless how much her bladder moaned she refused to give in to it’s stupid demands. As if to taunt it more she immediately poured a glass of cold water, adding ice from the freezer and drank it down as she looked for something to cook. The fridge had little to offer other than some salad but she had some breaded chicken in the freezer and a few potatoes so put the chicken in the oven and peeled the potatoes all the time constantly moving, moaning and squirming. She sat on the breakfast bar stool and wiggled against it trying desperately not to give in to her bladder’s demands. One hand down her dress top and in her lace bra fondling her breasts and the other inside her knickers she pressed against the seat, squirmed and stroked herself loving the feelings it brought and knowing it was 100% intensified by her over full bladder. Her nipples were hand and protruding, her vaginal lips swollen and puffy, her clitoris tender and raised. Candy longed to pee but equally longed for sexual climax as she gazed around the kitchen wondering what to do. She slid the cutlery drawer open but seeing nothing to help she closed it and opened the next drawer which had all sorts of various cooking utensils. With her hand still between her legs and her pussy pounding she grabbed a wooden spoon and smiled. Holding the spoon end she pulled the gusset of her knickers aside and inserted the handle into her own vagina, moaning and pulsating and shaking as she did. She was dying to release so much excess bladder fluid but equally so aroused and horny she fucked herself with the wooden spoon handle as she clung to any hope of not pissing herself while her dinner cooked. Having orgasmed once Candy was sweating and dry mouthed as she poured herself some wine to drink as she dished up her dinner. For a minute her urgent need to pee subsided as her body recovered from her sexual high but by the time she sat down again to eat she had to slip a sandal off and sit on her foot to prevent herself wetting. ‘You need to wait bladder. A few more hours and I’ll let you go!’ Thankful for just a few dishes to wash and recalling how she had wet herself doing this same job yesterday Candy washed up as quickly as she could, having to stop a few times to hold herself and dance. God she urgently had to pee! Walking into the main room Candy thought about running to the toilet. She’d got further than yesterday but she so dearly wanted to know how much longer she could wait. She sat on her couch and switched the TV on fidgeting and rocking to prevent any leaks. Wow her favourite programme was just starting! How perfect. Candy was determined to keep her bladder on hold until the hour programme finished. Sitting on the couch she had a hand between her legs as she bounced her knee, wriggled and rocked. Drinking more wine Candy played with her body as her need grew and grew exponentially loving every single second. Oh how she adored this feeling but oh how dangerous it was too. As her wine finished she leaned forward to pour out more but alas her body was at it’s absolute limit and leaning on the edge of her own sofa with a bottle of wine in her hands Candy clenched her face and thighs simultaneously as her urethra popped open despite everything and a river of gushing warm urine ran down her bare legs and formed a huge running puddle at her feet. She’d made it to 11 hours but she had to do better. She watched the rest of her programme in her soaked clothes as she masterbated through them, proud of herself but equally disappointed. Tomorrow she would make it to bedtime without peeing. She set her mind to it. She had to. She wanted to. She was determined to whatever happened.
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