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  1. Author’s note: This is a re-written version of my old story “KDA’s Discovery”. Hopefully, there’s a noticeable increase in writing quality. Enjoy. Chapter 1: Evelynn craved a respite from the chaos of Times Square. As a strikingly beautiful and highly sought-after individual, she was used to all eyes turning in her direction. She reveled in the attention, especially when it came from both men and women admiring her flawless form. However, after six hours of parading around the bustling streets, even Evelynn grew weary. As she turned around to catch a glimpse of herself in one of the many mirrors lining the sidewalks, she noticed Ahri gracefully ascending the nearby stairs with a confident stride. The sight of her dear friend brought a smile to Evelynn's face and she eagerly made her way towards her for some much-needed company and conversation. “Eve? We’re turning in for the night.” Ahri said, turning to face the pop star. “You coming?” “No, I think I’ll go on a walk first. I need to clear my mind.” “Aww, did one too many men try to ask you out today?” “Maybe,” Evelynn smirked, “Not that you’d know that feeling.” “You don’t have to be so mean!” Evelynn laughed. “Goodnight sweetheart!” Ahri pouted as she trudged up the stairs, with Evelynn laughing behind her. As she reached the door, Evelynn suddenly felt a sharp urge in her bladder. She realized it had been 6 hours since she last relieved herself and was starting to feel desperate. "I can hold it," she reassured herself. Finally outside, the cool night air hit her face and she took a moment to breathe deeply before beginning her walk down the driveway and turning onto the street. As she strolled along, her mind replayed the events of the day. In the evening, she and her girlfriends had ventured to Times Square for a much-needed "girls' night out". It wasn't long before a group of girls recognized them and approached, but luckily they were respectful and didn't cause too much of a scene. As they chatted, Evelynn's need to use the restroom grew urgent. She hadn't gone before they left and now she was regretting it. When the fans finally dispersed, Evelynn was desperate to find a bathroom. She suggested they go to H&M for some retail therapy. Once inside, the group split up to browse for outfits while Evelynn made a beeline for the restroom. Just as she reached it, she couldn't hold it any longer and leaked a little in her underwear. Hastily entering a stall, she yanked down her panties and released hours' worth of pent-up urine. The sensation of relief was overwhelming and surprisingly pleasurable. She couldn't help but moan with satisfaction, not caring if anyone heard her. After all, it was only natural. Eventually, her stream tapered off and she cleaned herself up before rubbing her thighs together to relieve some tension and heading back out to join her friends. The succubus relished the memory of pleasure, savoring it with a flick of her tongue over her lips. Evelynn continued her solitary walk through the silent streets of Long Island, illuminated only by the occasional flickering streetlamp. The eerie backdrop set her at ease, and she relished in the peacefulness of the night. As she walked, her urgency grew with each step. She was about thirty minutes from home, and her bladder was nearly bursting. On top of that, a heavy sensation in her bowels added to her discomfort. "Damn," she thought to herself. "I really need to go." But could she make it back in time? A wave of panic washed over her until she remembered the thrill of her near-accident earlier in Times Square and how satisfying it felt. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she stopped under a lone streetlight and grabbed herself, doing a subtle pee dance. At 2 AM, no one was awake or out on the streets, giving Evelynn free rein to indulge in her desires. After holding on for several minutes, Evelynn's bladder couldn't take it any longer, and she began to release into her black panties. With a sigh of relief, she pressed her legs together tightly and felt the warm liquid flow down them and into her high heels. The heat was a welcome respite from the chill of the October night. As her stream continued, Evelynn squatted down, allowing her pee to pool around her lower body and soak into the bottom of her skirt. She moaned with pleasure as the golden liquid formed a puddle underneath her on the sidewalk. Finally standing back up, Evelynn felt a sense of satisfaction as her stream tapered off and trickled down her legs. Evelynn's body was already tense and aroused as she focused on the task at hand. With a deep breath, she began to bear down and push her solid waste out. A low groan escaped her lips as she felt her anus expand to accommodate the head of a turd pushing its way out. Her skirt, now soaked with sweat and anticipation, was hiked up to reveal her bare bottom. Another grunt accompanied another push, as the turd made contact with her panties, its slightly lumpy texture adding to Evelynn's heightened state of arousal. She pushed harder, feeling the bulge in her panties grow larger until it finally snapped off from her anus. Evelynn straightened herself out, only to immediately bend over again as a second turd began its journey through her body. The sound of her moans filled the street as she helplessly pooped her panties, unable to contain her pleasure any longer. Once the second log had passed, Evelynn stood there panting heavily, her arousal having reached uncharted levels. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she turned around to inspect the evidence of her deed. Through blurred vision and a haze of lust, she could make out a sizable lump in her panties - larger than her fist. Without hesitation, Evelynn placed a trembling hand against the mess and pressed down on it, sending shivers of excitement down her spine and causing the mess to spread further up towards her asscrack. Evelynn's body was burning with desire as she walked back, unable to resist the throbbing between her legs. In a moment of impulsive abandon, she shed her jacket and bra, letting the cool night air caress her bare skin. The moon lit up her curves in an ethereal glow as she continued undressing, discarding every last article of clothing until only her panties remained. With a trembling hand, Evelynn slid beneath the fabric and began teasing her sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She collapsed onto the ground, lost in ecstasy as she feverishly pleasured herself. Her panties were soaked from her arousal, spreading around her hips and clinging to every curve. "I-I'm such a d-dirty s-slut," Evelynn stuttered out, her mind consumed by the intense sensations pulsating through her. With one hand occupied between her legs, she reached up and gave a firm squeeze to her exposed breast, eliciting another surge of pleasure. As an orgasm built within her, Evelynn plunged two fingers deep into her slick folds and began pumping them in and out with fervor, moaning loudly into the night. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she neared the edge, thrusting and fingering herself even harder in search of release. And then it hit - an explosion of pleasure that sent shockwaves through her entire being. Evelynn screamed out in pure bliss as she reached the peak of pleasure. Her body convulsed with each wave of ecstasy, causing her to squirt her juices onto the sidewalk below in a wild display of carnal release. As her orgasm washed over her, Evelynn's body went limp and she collapsed onto the cool sidewalk, panting heavily as she lay there in a state of bliss. Her panties were soaked and messy, evidence of the pleasure she had just experienced. After catching her breath, Evelynn rose to her feet and calmly removed her soiled underwear, discarding them with a nonchalant wave. With a sly smile on her face, she decided to walk back to the house completely naked. The cool air caressed her bare skin, heightening the sensations pulsing through her body. As she strolled confidently down the street, Evelynn reveled in the thrill of being exposed and vulnerable in public. It was exhilarating and liberating at the same time. She couldn't wait to tell her friends about this daring adventure when she got back home. To be continued...
  2. Version 1

    1,699 downloads

    IMPORTANT NOTE: File should be unlocked by now, but if it asks for a password, it is otomi-games.com A simple game where an exhibitionist tries to get away with naughty exposure in different locations. There is no story slotted in, purely gameplay. Features get unlocked until you get the full sandbox mode after completing all night and day stages. Remember to click the rectangular stop button swiftly and readily during the main stages! The game is obviously fictional, but please be warned if you are uncomfortable with the concept of bystanders including police and children spotting the main character. None of them are sexualised and merely act as a gauge of the protagonist's detection. The game features are: Four locations. A school, residential area, playground and shopping centre. Night and day versions of the locations. More spotting by bystanders during the day. Customisable outfits, character attitude and even body markings or pubic hair (see pictures). Main stages with the three hearts being like 'lives' until you get caught. Red bar measuring progress until reaching her orgasm. Sandbox mode where you needn't worry about losing the game. Buttons for exposing in various ways, all of which can be combined with peeing. Button to just pee on the spot. Character voice when performing actions with embarrassment/moaning/etc. I have completed all stages, so I included my save files if you should wish to utilise them. Message or comment if they don't work. Support the work at: https://www.dlsite.com/maniax/work/=/product_id/RJ386790.html (From site)
    Free
  3. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    "She has to pee really badly, because she... wants to hold it for you!" What can I say but " 'atta girl?!" That is indeed one good "kitty!" X] As usual, the nude and text-less versions are available on my Patreon!
  4. I still haven’t really decided what I wanna do Nina personality-wise but here’s a sketch of her casually peeing in a public shower If anyone has any requests for other pee related things to draw her doing I could definitely use some inspiration!
  5. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Whew! This one was a challenge in terms of all the stuff it has going on; I even had to re-do the top-left image twice! But it was probably nothing compared to the challenge Tammy decided to undertake --- banning herself from a toilet for 24 hours and doubling the number of drinks she has in a day! She even spiced it up by trying to make any unavoidable peeing unique! Her basil probably won't survive the deluge, but at least we can give her credit for using a dustpan to funnel her pee outside! That said, she would have had a much easier time coming up with new "solutions" if she just held it like she was supposed to! XD
  6. Hiyaa ! Angie here uwu I am currently updating my pornhub channel, and creating looooaaaads of new videos! The videos also include a lot of omorashi content, so I am making this topic to add the links to those videos. In some of the vids, my face is visible, I moan a lot in all of them, I am very expressive! I will keep editing this post to add more links AND reply to this topic with new links, so if you want to stay up to date to get horny, please follow this topic ❤️ Thank you so much and enjoy 😉 (Ps. Feel free to let me know if you enjoyed my content!!) LINKS TO MY PORNHUB OMO VIDEOS 1. "Ftm holds pee and masturbates, squirts out pee" https://nl.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=64deb8f029ec7 2. "Trans boy tries to hold it but pees the bed, masturbation, moaning, squirming" https://nl.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=64f952906a838 3. FTM Enby Angie tries to hold pee in formal clothes, pee in pants, pee desperation, omorashi" https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=6506f86ca4721
  7. Once upon a time, I was young, dumb, and incredibly horny. To preface this story, I have to give a brief rundown of my life as it was 15 years ago. It was 2007, and I'd just started summer break as a freshly young adult. At home, I'd only gotten broadband internet access for the first time two years prior - and it was, as ill-advised as it may have been, totally unsupervised. Up until this point, the internet access I'd had was limited and never private; mostly accessing computers during lunch break at school, or jumping on dial-up for a few hours at my grandmother's place once or twice every couple of weeks and doing a mad dash to get everything I wanted done on an agonizingly slow connection. Back then, my fetishes had just been weird, off-beat fixations I'd indulged on my own without realizing what they actually were. I'd always thought myself weird for liking them and figured I was mostly alone in putting myself through tormenting my bladder, and even then I'd only known them as something sexually gratifying for a few recent years as well. But at this point in time, with unfettered access to the internet, a few friends, an unhinged sex drive, and a lot of spare time, I undertook what was probably the greatest omorashi-driven adventure I've ever embarked on: For a full summer break, two months in length, I didn't pee in the same place twice. This is non-fictional and is an experience I've wanted to jot down before my memory of it changes (any more than it already has, anyway) for quite a while, but I've never had the time or wherewithal to do it. Through a series of convoluted events even I don't really remember, my newfound access to the internet had led me from an anime forum, to an IRC server, to IRC servers at large, and finally to the FurNet IRC community, where I'd found a home that was willing to accept my sheltered and slightly awkward mannerisms. Meanwhile elsewhere, I'd discovered Patches' Place, Peeople, the Peesearch Community, and other Web 1.0 era iconic watersports websites, but had struggled to find places where the content centered around desperation and holding it in - I've always and still do greatly prefer full bladders over anything else pee related and to say my early experiences online were slim pickings was a drastic understatement. I'd spent a lot of time scraping over these websites for desperate stories and images, and what made the FurNet IRC unique was it was my first place I could freely talk about my specific exploits and interests with at least a few other like minded individuals. Like a spring wound up way too tight tight, finding freedom and relief my first partners in omorashi sent me flying at a velocity only a late teenager could achieve into kink adventures. And this brings us to my main story today. I'd just finished telling a story about how I'd not peed all day in the watersports channel, something rather run of the mill for me and nothing really new; and was talking about summer break and having no plans, when someone jokingly replied with, "You should hold it in all summer :7" Needless to say, the human physiology, even for idiots like me that put off the bathroom for extended periods far beyond what's recommended, two months of just not peeing isn't within the realm of possibility, but it did set the hormones in me bubbling in just the right way to get me chatting about fantasies and ideas for something quite extended in length, if a little bit more... realistic. Someone I'd been pretty closely involved with, to the degree we'd both made each other pee our pants several times by then, floated the idea that maybe since I couldn't just bottle it up all summer, I should limit where and how often I drained the tank. We got into a query (the IRC version of DMs) and teased each other around the idea for a bit until finally settling on something I was nervous about, but felt confident in committing to: Seeing if I could go the full two months without emptying my bladder in the same spot twice. The rules were pretty simple and loose: Once I'd peed, whether by having an accident, a significant enough leak to leave pee on the ground, or just going normally, that spot was off-limits from spilling another drop of urine in or on for the rest of the summer break. If I needed an exception, I'd have to ask my partner for permission first by text messaging him (smartphones and mobile broadband were still in their infancy and well beyond my means at the time.) At the end of each day, I'd report in to him so he could keep score. I was a pretty active teen; my grades were poor for myriad reasons, so I had summer school at a pretty large campus to do, I lived in a pretty sprawling urban middle-class town, I had a bike and the relative freedom to go where I pleased, and I had no real obligations beyond said classes to attend to. Considering the relative freedom I had and the unbridled stupid horny thirst for adventure, I was chomping at the bit to begin, and I got permission from him to empty my bladder in my own toilet for the last time unrestricted before bed that night. – The challenge started off easy. The next day, I skipped the toilet at home and before class. I'd wanted my home toilet to stay available for as long as I could for emergencies, and all in all with my places to tinkle limited, it was to make sure I was as full as I could get before I picked a spot to empty myself. It wasn't bad until after lunch - the couple drinks I'd had to beat the summer heat and with my meal finally caught up to me. Sitting in class with a full bladder takes on a novel sense of enjoyment when you know you could ask anytime to go to the bathroom and probably be permitted... but for one reason or another, you should just keep holding it in. The bike ride to my grandmother's place took about a half hour, and our city had notoriously awful sidewalks and roads - my suspensionless cheap BMX bike afforded me no luxuries and my bladder was thoroughly shaken and frothing by the time I got there. I usually stayed at my grandmother's place until the early evening when I went home, so I wanted to save the toilets there until I was having a potty emergency as well. I was fairly sure I wasn't going to be able to hold it in until I got home, though, by this time my body was giving me the telltale signs down below that I wasn't far off before my valve would start leaking. So, I excused myself for a walk. She lived in a pretty ritzy HOA in an upper-middle class neighborhood, and about 10 minutes of funny walking later I was at the pool building. I used our community key, let myself in, slipped into the men's restroom (which was honestly a little creepy, dark, and very disused) and finally went pee in the urinal. It was a rush - it was the first time I'd broken the seal since the challenge began, and looking ahead to two more months of this, getting more and more difficult as it progressed, made me feel weak and vulnerable in an incredibly arousing and exciting way. It's a dragon of sensations I'm still chasing today. I made it home safely that evening with only a slight sense of nature's call, and checked in with my friend, who praised me deeply (and very likely started me down the road that lead to my praise kink) and eventually we wished each other good night, and I tucked into bed with an only slightly full bladder. The next day, I hit my first snag. I woke up with a definitely more than slightly full bladder. Obviously (or perhaps not so obviously - more on that later) the urine in my belly hadn't just magically evaporated at the end of the night, and was still there in the morning, joined by a healthy amount more. I was fine over breakfast and skipped over the toilet at home, but I got to school feeling rather urgent and by the end of first period I was wanting to go potty pretty decently, enough to consider going to take a leak before my next class. Our campus was large - the town I lived in had a population of 38,000 at the time and it was a suburb of one of the largest cities in California - and by my count it had over 10 easily reachable restrooms in various places around campus I could use. 10 different places I could go within a spot I'd be visiting most of the summer was a pretty lenient opportunity to avoid any emergencies, but on the other hand - this was school. I knew people here... and a lot of them knew me. Having an accident there simply wasn't an option, even for a budding exhibitionist like my younger self. My decision was made for me; while I was trying to figure it out, the bell rang, and my swollen bladder and I made our way to my world history class. I couldn't focus in class at all, and I was very, very thankful our teacher was as checked out as I was. We watched Logan's Run for most of the period - well, everyone but I did, I was focused too much on the steadily building need to lose some water weight - and of course, time dragged. I passed notes with the girl behind me, one of my school-friend-acquaintance-pals to burn time, eventually admitting I was dying to pee but didn't really want to ask to be dismissed. She found it amusing more than anything, but we didn't discuss why for obvious reasons; I just made an excuse about not wanting to interrupt the movie and have everyone’s eyes on me (which was also true.) By the end of the period, my back teeth were floating, but I made it. I had no real choice, though, I wasn't going to make it through lunch, and made a beeline for one of the restrooms further away and finally relieved myself. The bliss of finally popping the cork on my poor, swollen jug was pretty terrific, but it was hardly the most dire I'd need to piss that summer. The rest of the day was uneventful, but I was beginning to notice a trend - the earlier I caved in and went potty, the more full I'd be before bed... and the harder the next day would be. My friend and I mused about this, and his suggestion was pretty obvious - just don't pee until I get home so I'd go to bed with a relatively empty bladder. I committed to playing catch-up the next day, and went to bed, finding it a little difficult to sleep on a moderately full bladder, but managing to drift off. The third day brought with it a... different kind of problem. When I woke up, I in fact didn't need to pee. While that was a relief and set me ahead of schedule for the day and that much closer to my prescribed goal, I realized with a bit of shock and a tiny hint of humiliation that I'd wet the bed in my sleep. Or more aptly, soaked. I slept without blankets in the California heat (and mostly without clothes, thankfully) but my undies were soaked and my fitted sheet and mattress protector were waterlogged. I bundled them up to wash later, took a shower, and did my usual thing, but this stuck with my mind enough that before school I texted my partner about it. I had wet the bed a bunch up into my early teens (a growing problem, I figured) and he helpfully suggested a combination of moderate fullness and a tired bladder had spelled my doom. He said we'd talk it over that night (he worked during the day) but praised me for it, which also probably sent me down a path to a bunch of other kinks I have now, come to think about it. I had a couple other ideas in mind that could help prevent that in the future; I always showered before school so that wasn't going to be a problem, but if I was unabashedly watering my bed several times a week not only was I going to fail the challenge but my parents would catch on quick that I was doing an awful lot of laundry. The rest of the day was fine, arriving at home in the evening with only a moderately full bladder and choosing to sneak out in the backyard behind our shed to pop the cork. My partner and I discussed the morning. He offered to give me a mulligan for soaking the bed given it was very unexpected, which I graciously accepted. A few ideas were discussed. The first was diapers. I didn't have anything full size or enthusiast to use, still being freshly and adult and living at my folks' place; but I had about a pack and a half of Goodnites: a youth pull-up style overnight incontinence garment, from several years ago when I was still struggling with bedwetting that I'd never tossed out. They seemed a simple enough, if embarrassing solution... if I could still fit into them. I chimed in that it felt like I'd be failing the challenge, going in one spot repeatedly, even if it was involuntary. He countered that I couldn't really help it given the nature of the challenge - my bladder was definitely being tested, and going to bed with a dangerously full bladder was definitely in my future as opportunities to pee began to run dry. That revelation awoke the beast inside and I was rather markedly horny as we came up with ideas and he teased me about it, until finally we produced a practical but exceedingly lewd solution - we'd count the bedwetting issue as unavoidable and one of the sole exceptions to the peeing in one place rules, provided I did two things: one, I padded up in a pull-up to avoid getting myself into trouble, and two... that I went to bed with a full enough bladder that I could convince him I was doomed to wet myself and he judged it "worth" the excuse. This was a criteria I wound up meeting probably a dozen or so times that summer... most of which towards the end. The first couple weeks of summer were fun, and easy enough to manage. The days started feeling shorter given how much I was occupied, but not enough to diminish that "endless summer" feeling of youth. Most of my more recent slow-burn omorashi adventures had a tendency to peter out because my endurance usually outlasts my partner’s, but for the most part, he was with me every step of the way and loving every minute of it. My partner was kind, gentle, encouraging, teasing, and all around very comfy to have for a challenge like this so early in my exposure to sharing kinks with others. I was also being judicious in my dispensation of pee, trying to strike a balance of going for harder or more out of the way targets to get relief first and saving the convenient and safe spots for emergencies; while still giving myself little convenient treats now and then. Once or twice, I used a school bathroom, but never the same one. I used a restroom in a shop or two on my way home from school. I dared to slink behind a tree in a quiet, shady area in a park out of view of the public. I peed down a storm drain on my way home from my grandmother’s near a cut-through. This and that, here and there, but I managed and the spots to drain my tank stayed pretty plentiful... for now. I did a good job of staying out of the public eye when I got daring, but it didn’t stop my heart racing every time - and I had a perverted sense of pride that I was marking my territory as I went. Occasional gatherings with friends started getting to be more difficult, though; it’s harder to slink off and pee when you’re in company, and just using their toilet would take away any safety net for emergencies… so I exercised some severe restraint and just held it in most of the time, even if it meant doing everything I could to keep my mind off squirming and grabbing at myself. I had a few incidents of being caught out with a bulging bladder - one because I’d had coffee with breakfast one very sleepy morning, which ballooned my bladder and made it very active before I could even finish first period; two because I really had to go but was on a dare to go straight home with it, so I took the bus and it was unkind to the immense amount of pee I was holding in; and a couple others I don’t quite recall beyond knowing I was genuinely worried about leaking. All in all, though, this was the easy part. The third week of summer had some surprises. My partner had been teasing me good-naturedly about not taking the luxury he’d given; padding up and sleeping on a full enough bladder to wet it. After a little back and forth teasing and coaxing over more wanting to do the challenge, I caved and indulged him. Or at least… I tried. A couple nights I skipped emptying my bladder like a good boy when I really should have, sleeping with a fairly full sensation in my lower tummy, padded up for the inevitable… which didn’t happen. Instead, I woke up, bursting to pee. This caused me to burn a few backup spots around my home - I’d managed to avoid the bathroom so far save for the shower, which I had urinated in while washing simply because of absence of mind when I really didn’t need it - because I doubted my ability to last even long enough to make it to school. So, one evening he finally posited a dare. I could have a "free" bathroom break in the toilet the next morning, if I agreed to indulge him by not to peeing all day, putting on a pull-up, and going to sleep on whatever I had stored in my bladder. I took the challenge. I still see that day as a kind of “break” from the original “don’t pee in one spot” challenge as a little token of appreciation to my partner, and I think he appreciated it, judging by how he reacted to what followed. I drained the tank when I woke up in the proffered manner, showered, had breakfast, and headed to class with no sense of urge at all. By lunch, I was developing a bit of a tingle, and on the way to my grandmother’s I needed to pee a fair amount. It was an incredibly hot day, and I stopped into a local dollar shop to cool off, and bought two of their one liter bottles of off-brand soda for a buck each. I gulped one down then and there, and took the other with me. By the time I needed to bike home, I was starting to squirm and cross my legs away from prying eyes; and before I left, I drank down the second liter of soda (which was an incredibly horny experience given how badly I needed to go by then.) I made it home with difficulty, but by the time I stowed my bike, did my chores, and sat down at my computer, I was dying to pee. My bladder was *full*, not in the sense that it was holding urine, but in the sense that it was more or less getting close to its maximum capacity. I’d stripped off my pants to give my abdomen room to expand, pestered my friend, and got relentlessly teased for a couple hours until it was getting close to bedtime. I padded up, did a little squirmy showing off for him by sharing some photos from my cameraphone, and tucked into bed. I couldn’t sleep. My bladder throbbed with fullness and I couldn’t take my usual sleeping position on my belly at all. I squirmed, held myself, crossed my legs, tucked my bits (when I could, anyway, arousal making this difficult for the most part,) but nothing helped at all with the burning, dire fullness in my tank. I can’t remember if I finally started to doze off or if I was awake the whole time, but I do remember vividly that finally, my body gave in, and in the still darkness, the hissing sound was so loud I was worried someone else in the house would hear. My pullup soaked, swelled, bulged, and eventually leaked helplessly as I easily overwhelmed it. I ended up with more on my bed than in the pad, which was to be expected. I saved some photos for my partner, then rolled over. I finally got to sleep almost immediately from the relief and ease, and the next morning I cleaned up, did laundry, showered, and touched base with my partner, who was elated to say the least. I shared some photos of the damage I did with a lot of shame and a little pride. Mostly, though, I was thankful for the weekend; I had the time I needed to clean up and no obligations looming to make my enjoyment of the moment rushed. My partner and I agreed that the pull-ups definitely weren't going to cut it for a bladder of my capacity, but that we'd figure it out another time. – I had made it halfway through the summer with only minor difficulty and one (plus one planned) accident. I was amazed at how well I was doing, and building confidence enough to be a little more daring. This, unfortunately, set the stage for my meeting with hubris on several occasions. I’d begun to notice more often that as I started hitting the “really gotta go” point, I was also starting to have to make second and third choices about where to get rid of my pent up pee. I could stop in this store on the way home… no, wait, I went there already. There’s a nice shady spot in the park I could squat in… I went there a couple weeks ago. It was exciting, and a few intense times during the week, I realized I didn’t have a convenient option and would have to push myself pretty deep into potty dancing territory to make it to the next spot. One ride from school I felt like I was a couple minutes from hosing down my bicycle seat (and my pants) and stopped in a shopping center, determined to find a spot to go, and realized with horror that I’d used every bathroom in the shops there. I rode the rest of the way with one hand on the handlebars, and one hand casually resting in my lap - or as casually as one can while pedaling - and tightly gripping my bits to make it to the next one. My partner deeply enjoyed my increasing frequency of desperation and continued to encourage me to be more daring, which eventually resulted in my first time genuinely having an accident in public. On my way home in the evening, I’d texted my partner to ask for an emergency break at a gas station I’d used the toilet in before, but he’d denied me encouraging me to be a “good boy” and telling me “you’ll be fine, you can make it home.” I couldn’t. I’d texted him because I’d started to dampen my underwear in tiny spurts. My bladder was bursting. There just wasn’t any room left for more pee. Pedaling my bike was loosening up my control, and I needed that control because I was achingly full - at the top of my mind was an entire extra liter of water I’d drank over the course of the day to push the envelope just a little more than I usually did, which had unfortunately resulted in a lot of urine building up in my tummy. I made it maybe another block and a half, unsure whether to pedal frantically or risk taking it slow, before finally, I spurted, stopped, spurted, and couldn’t quite stop, before finally just giving in. I coasted to a slow pace, barely managing to focus on pedaling. It was sunset, and I was wearing a dark blue pair of jeans. My thighs, butt, and crotch were all immediately hot and soaking wet, and I can remember with crystal clarity how I could faintly hear my pee tinkling onto the concrete as I went; I looked back and realized I was leaving a rather visible trail. I had a few blocks to go, and I sped up as clarity came back to me; I never rode so fast in my life. The wetness of my bottoms quickly cooled uncomfortably in the wind, and when I got home, I elected to park my bike in the side yard and go through the back door. I made my way to my room as stealthily as I could, avoiding my parents and finally shutting the door, stripping, and surveying the damage. My underwear was a lost cause and my jeans, even dark in color, were soaked midnight blue in the crotch and rear with two trails going down the legs, if I recall correctly the left was the more prominent one. I showed my partner, was praised, and slunk off to shower. This understandably took my confidence down several pegs. I knew I’d end up badly squirming several times, and even to the leaking point, but the reality of peeing my pants being very possible hadn’t sunk in until now. From this point forward, I kept a change of pants, undies, and a goodnite hidden in my backpack… just to be safe. I’d need it more than once in the coming weeks. It was beginning to feel like I was spending more time holding in my pee than being empty. Lack of ability to go at will for extended periods was starting to influence everything I did. Every time I’d drink, I was planning on where that drink would end up. Everywhere I went, I was casting inappropriate glances to think about where I could slink away to get some relief. And more and more distressingly, I was running out of bathrooms. I’d finally caved and used the toilet at home when I’d barely managed to walk in without spilling some days prior - I’d tried to hold it in at least until my partner got back, but after a half hour I was starting to leak and with my parents more busy around the house than usual, I simply couldn’t find a spot - at least not one I’d already used - that I thought would be safe long enough to drain the lake I was storing inside me. This brought with it a new sense of dread - my one safe spot was used up and I’d already done plenty of marking around (and outside) the house. A couple times out and about, being more daring in my choice of public spots meant I’d have to abort watering a tree, a fence, or a bush and put myself away as quickly as I could when I heard voices or footsteps approaching, much to the dire disagreements of my bladder (and the occasional false couple stops leaving me a little less dry than I was previously.) A couple times I was nearly caught, and I suspected once someone knew what I was up to, but in so far as accidentally flashing someone or exposing them to me piddling like a rather over-realistic garden fountain I'd managed to stay undetected. I was deeply enjoying this change of events, however, and so was not only my partner but the entire watersports channel on FurNet. I’d gathered a small following of my adventures and people were cheering me on, which was keeping me deeply committed to making the challenge to the last day despite knowing that, at any point, I could cheat and nobody would be the wiser. It was a combination of coming this far, having people enjoying my antics and photos of near misses and accidents, and the unbridled horniness of young adulthood that kept me honest… and full of pee. A few particular days spring to mind as highlights. On one occasion, I was facing the ride home in the evening knowing that I just plain wasn’t going to make it. It was getting late in the summer break and I’d used up just about every spot I could think of by now without going too far out of the way and raising eyebrows by being home late - normally I’d either rein in my drinking or use a spot near my grandmother’s but those were growing more sparse by the day and that particular afternoon had been hot. I texted my partner, and he’d suggested that if I knew I was doomed, I might as well pad up under my clothes… technically I hadn’t peed in several spots smack dab in the middle of the sidewalks, and that’s what I believe saved me. About four or so times on the ride home, I could feel my swollen bladder contracting, and I knew if I tried to fight it I’d pop like a balloon and wind up soaked far beyond what the little pull-up could manage. Instead I leaned into it, surging a good amount into it and bottling up the rest when I could feel my control safely returning. It was enough to get me home, in the door, and into the backyard where I finally burst sitting on the lawn with at least the privacy of the fence to keep me hidden. If my folks had been looking out any of the yard-facing windows, I'd have been busted, but I was too full to care. I got up out of the puddle, brushed myself off, and made my way back to the house, still dripping. I slinked inside, cleaned up, showered, and changed, and reported the accident to the channel, who teased me plenty until bedtime. My partner had pointed out I’d watered the lawn before, but I hadn’t done it in a pull-up, so we both agreed that this wasn’t a violation of the rules. As my hopes to safely empty my bladder dried up, there’d be a lot of this bending the rules going on, but I was genuinely still trying my best to keep up the challenge. On another occasion, for some reason, I was full to the brim, but the desperation didn’t really hit. I have no idea what caused this, but it was pretty hot. Normally I’m like any other person except perhaps with an outlandish capacity - when my jug’s full, it’s maddeningly tingly and achy, and drives me to squirm, dance, cross my legs, hold myself, and generally stay mobile until I pee. But on one late summer day in particular, I was beyond full, but not feeling urgent. It was a Saturday and I was home alone, and by the afternoon I’d had plenty of soda to drink playing video games when I started to notice that leaning forward to see my screen better gave me the weak feeling at the base of my bits that told me I’d leak if I kept it up… but my bladder was comfortable. I could feel the pressure and hefty, weighty fullness; and when I took off my pants, my lower belly was bulging, but it wasn’t tingly and irritating like it usually was… I was full to capacity, but not desperate. I checked in with the channel, who pushed me to drink some more and show off how long i could hold it in, and surprisingly, I made it until early evening, my poor water balloon swelling to an impressive size before my continence finally started to waver and I left a wet spot on my undies. Since I was home alone, I slunk into the ensuite in the master bathroom and used the shower to finally empty the tank, and it took over two minutes (roughly) at a fair stream to finally empty myself out. In hindsight it was incredibly hot, but I was nervous for the rest of the day that I’d broken something until I woke up bursting to pee as usual, which was its own form of relief. For the last two weeks of summer, I got a reprieve of sorts. Summer school was over, and I had full days of freedom at home. On the upside, that meant my days would be easier to plan, the house was empty during the week, and I had a whole new slew of public bathrooms I could bike to in that part of the city if I really needed it. On the downside, my home was just about used up in terms of places to drain my tank - both yards, just about every bit of plumbing, and a couple shameful sneaky spots (like a couple potted plants) were all crossed off the list, and although during the day I could probably get somewhere new in time, at night, I was cross-legged and hopeless. More than once I’d end up at the leaking point long before bed but long after dark, and beg my partner for ideas (who, to my frantic frustration, would take his sweet time and often gate an idea for relief behind a few squirmy photos for his enjoyment.) We were down to technicalities, like cups, bottles, and eventually more inventive solutions like a plastic bag full of napkins. When we weren’t coming up with new and exciting places (and “places”) for me to finally burst into at home, I was out and about on my bike. It was fun to explore my hometown with a quite full bladder and with the express intent to find a new place to pee; downtown in particular I found quite a few forgotten nooks and crannies to mark some territory when toilets started getting rarer and rarer. Finally, the last day of summer break was upon me. I’d gathered up a group of people from the IRC into a Skype call with a webcam I’d splurged on - ritzy stuff for someone with no job in 2007! I had a bunch lined up to drink and was nursing it all down, with the call starting in the afternoon as people filed in... and my drinks filed into my bladder. I was getting pretty antsy by sundown and my partner joined, but I was also getting all sorts of comments about how fun this had been, how nice I looked, how hot it was to watch me fighting nature’s call live, and so on. I was honestly a touch overwhelmed, but there was no going back now. It was the first time I’d ever shown off on video and I was really nervous, but the four or five people were very, very kind and encouraging to me and it was more exhilarating than anything. We passed the idle time as my balloon inflated by getting to know each other - I was the youngest of the call by about 5 years, with the oldest being in their late thirties. I still look back at this point as what enabled me to be more free and social online and built me up to what I am as a netizen today. Eventually, though, as all boys who drink a lot do, I had to pee. Badly. The call had gone from just a casual chat with video, to me shifting around more frequently and adjusting myself between my legs, to crossing my legs and bouncing, and eventually having to stand up, ditch my pants, and hold myself between my legs by sundown. During all of this, I fielded a few shy requests for a few specific poses to show off, them occasionally prodding me to drink more, and a smattering of compliments on my body, my squirming, and eventually the tense groaning I was making and my bladder starting to bulge out my lower abdomen. The idea was floated and decided, around 9 PM, that I’d hold it in until midnight - mostly without my input. I severely doubted I could make it. I’d be afforded no relief until then - despite numerous empty cups and bottles littering my dresser. I’d already done that, so it would be considered going in the same place twice; and I honestly couldn’t think of where I was gonna go at midnight. My partner said he had an idea but wouldn’t reveal his hand despite messaging the others in the group and looping them in - it was going to be a surprise. By 11 PM, I was about to explode. I was abusing my crotch heavily and my bladder was bursting at the seams. I couldn't think of anything but my dire, burning, urgent need to go pee. By now I’d have decided on something, anything to go pee in or on, even if it meant sneaking out after dark to a storm drain (which I’d done one night when I was too full to sleep but hadn’t gotten my partner’s permission for special relief… it was probably the most daring thing I’d done, at about 2AM on a dark residential street.) Everyone encouraging me (and checking to make sure I was dry) kept me going and I’m sure the adrenaline helped. Agonizing minutes ticked by and near midnight I started to leak, much to the thrill of everyone in the call. I clearly remember my partner saying something along the lines of “You’re being a very good boy,” and it gave me an incredible boner visible enough that it got some comments and a very red face from me. I was whimpering, holding myself shut to stop the leaks, standing in place with my legs knotted up, and shaking from how much I just wanted to finally pull the plug and go already. It was probably the praise and body reacting to it that got me over the finish line, because as soon as the clock ticked over, I didn’t need to hear what my partner’s idea was, I was already going. Everyone in the call got a nice, clear view of me doing my best fountain impression all over my bedroom floor through my underwear. This, as it turned out, was my partner’s idea, but it mattered not, I was lost to the wind as everyone chimed in to praise me (and shout to get a towel, but it was too late for that by now.) The sound of pee pattering heavily around me was crystal clear, and I was sure the whole house could hear it at the time, though nobody came to check. I didn't care anyway, I lost track of time, and the relief was pure, white-hot euphoria. I made noises that I'm still a little ashamed of to this day, but I’d done it. With very few limited exceptions, I’d managed to spend the whole summer break without peeing in the same spot twice. I thanked everyone for their participation, they continued to heap on some horny praise, and with a little gentle, good-natured prying, I showed myself off a bit more, from some rather bold angles, before cleaning up and putting down some towels and finally crawling into bed and sleeping like a log. To this day, it’s one of the hottest and longest omorashi-based encounters I’ve ever had. I've been on the hunt for someone that can make my body sing in desperation but make me feel gently loved and encouraged ever since. I’m not sure where everyone is these days. We all grew apart as people moved off IRC. I went on to IM programs, then Skype, then Steam, and finally to Discord. I’m no longer in touch with anyone from those days, but I still remember it fondly beyond belief, and I struggle to believe it was real. I used to have some logs from the channel and queries to remember it by, and there’s a recording of the Skype webcam somewhere floating around, but I don’t have them anymore, I lost them in a hard drive crash in 2013. It’s an encounter that lives solely, for me, in my memory, and though I’ve told the story in brief to a few people, and several others know it happened without any detail, this is the first time I’ve finally chronicled what I can remember of it both so I can keep it from fading it and a new group of people can share in my memory. Life’s too busy to ever try something on such a rigid commitment for such a long time like this again, but I’m thankful that it happened more than anyone will ever know. On the off chance one of those folks from back then browses this site - get in touch! I miss you and I’d like to catch up. But even if all I ever manage to do is place this out on the internet so others can enjoy it, then that’s good enough for me. I hope you enjoyed my retelling of this distant memory from another era. It’s a little (very) long winded, but it lives on in a special place in my mind. Feel free to comment and ask whatever you like, about my experience, about me, anything! I’m trying to get myself a little more “out there” as a content creator, so getting to know folks would be lovely. Thanks for reading! 😄 - Sonador
  8. (Welp guess who decided to write their own story. Yep. Me. This is definitely not gonna turn out badly. Anyway, here's a little backstory stuff before the actual story begins. So enjoy my half-assed attempt at a story and my google translated mess.) For 69 years, The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics endured. When the Soviet Union was dissolved in 1991, it was broken up into fifteen independent nations: Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, Moldova, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, and the largest of the former republics, Russia. There was, however an unofficial sixteenth republic, a tiny island off the coast of Kaliningrad, in the Baltic sea. It was known as Pisuaria, and it was quite a peculiar little place. It is one of the only, if not the only country in the world, where sexuality is not only celebrated, but urination as well. Their culture of what some people describe as "Omorashi" dates back nearly 700 years. the Bolshevik revolution of 1917, all of the old laws regarding sexuality were overturned, ending the old Tsarist order. However this did not last long, as Josef Stalin would recriminalize homosexuality in 1933. Pisuaria, which kept homosexuality legal in defiance of Stalin's law, was left alone, since they were so small and insignificant, not to mention reclusive. Even after the fall of the Red Titan at the end of the 20th century, the Soviet spirit still lives on in Pisuariya. Led by their Premier Yuri Nariya, the Pisuarian people enjoy a life of lewdness. CHAPTER 1: Alice Alice had only heard rumors about the mysterious island. People who probably have never set foot in Pisuaria make up tales of men and women not using public toilets out of fear of retribution from their ruthless dictator. Others give more of a positive view on it, telling about a dreamland where you can walk around nude in broad daylight, marry whoever you want (or however many people you want), and pee wherever your heart, or bladder, desires. Alice decided that she would find out herself what Pisuarian life really was like. It was a long trip, 10 hours on a plane from New York to Kaliningrad, and an additional hour and a half from the Kaliningrad harbor to the coast of Pisuaria, but she finally made it. However, she regrets accepting the complimentary large soda the Pisuarian ferry gave all of the passengers for some reason. She couldn't fathom why, but she didn't care right now. Right now, her bladder cried out for relief. Signs in Russian and Lithuanian greet the passengers coming off the docks, "Добро пожаловать в Советскую Социалистическую Республику Писуария!" "Sveiki atvykę į Tarybų Socialistinę Respubliką Pisuariya!" "Welcome to the Soviet Socialist Republic of Pisuaria," they all said. Alice steps off the boat and heads to customs, where she will soon be admitted into the land of secrets. A male customs guard, looks to be in his late 20s, stops Alice and asks for her passport. Hopping from one foot to the other, she obliges, desperate to find a bathroom. It takes them a few minutes to check her passport, but she couldn't wait a few more seconds. "Excuse me, sir," she asked, "Do you mind hurrying it up? I really need to use the restroom!" The guard looks at another guard and then chuckles. "Bathroom? Sure. There's one over there, and there, hell, the whole COUNTRY is a bathroom!" The guard seemed amuse by his little joke, Alice however was not. "I'm not joking, I'm about to pee myself. Please, I'm begging you, point me to a restroom!" The guard tells his coworker to stay there and finish checking her passport, and he escorts Alice to the bathroom. Then suddenly the strangest thing happened. Alice noticed that he was following her into the bathroom. "Uh, thank you, I can find my way from here." The guard replies, "I'm sure you can, but to be quite honest, I need to piss too." Alice concedes, hoping to just get it over with. She rushes into a vacant stall and shuts the door behind her. She pulls down her panties, lifts her skirt, and sits down on the toilet before letting out a forceful gush of piss. Alice lets out a moan of relief that could most definitely be heard by the guard, but she didn't care. She was in heaven right now. She peed for what felt like an eternity before she finished. As she wiped herself dry and pulled up her panties, she exited the stall to see a sight that no one would have believed if she told them. The guard was standing in front of the sink, his penis in hand, letting out a golden stream into the sink. Alice asks the man "What are you doing?!" He replies "I'm relieving myself. What does it look like?" "In the SINK???" "Oh, come on, it drains to the same place those toilets do," he says. "You know," he adds, "we Pisuarians are an open minded people, not like the rest of the world." He finishes pissing and zips up, "You'll find our way of life much more...liberating." Alice pondered for a moment, could it really be that the people here don't use public restrooms that often because they don't have the same stigma around public urination as other countries do? She had so many questions, but she decided to ask the most important one at the moment, "I forgot to ask, what is your name?" The man replies "Dimitri, pleased to meet you, eh..." "Alice," she says, "Pleased to meet you too, Dimitri." And that was the moment Alice knew she was in for an interesting trip.
  9. Hi! I'm back again with another post. I've debated whether to do this for a while now. This is a finalized version of my story, Moon Showers. To keep things short, it reintroduces my erection-killing humour that was cut from the previous version. If dumb jokes are not your thing, feel free to skip this. This version also includes some small improvements to the story. Use ctrl-F or "find in page" (for mobile) to skip to either part 1 or 2. "Part 1: A Warm Place" is worldbuilding. The real lewd stuff begins at part 2. Search for "Part 2: Moon Showers" Content warning: Nudity, hyper pissing, off-key humour Moon Showers is a written omorashi doujin inspired by a dream I had of a certain person who I will only refer to as Rachel (not her real name obviously). The building it takes place in is the NTUC headquarters at Marina Bay in Singapore. In reality, the clear view of the bay here is not seen from any building but rather a waterfront path. In this doujin, however, the NTUC building is positioned such that the view from the building is an unobstructed central view of Marina Bay from an unspecified hypothetical vantage point. All of this will be visually clarified through pictures in part 2. This it the Rachel Juice version. It is a (hopefully) final remaster of Moon Showers. The first version was just the base story, as-is. The second version, the omo edition, was the one made to be posted on the omorashi org forums. It removed all identifying information, cleaned up the grammar and chopped away off-key humour. The third version, the Moonshine Edition, was meant to be the definitive version. It included cleanups to the grammar and prose, reintroduced the humour, and included ALL identifying details. This is the fourth version, the Rachel Juice version. The title is a reference to Neuro Juice, as seen in fanart of the AI Vtuber Neuro-Sama drawn by Pixiv artist Rune. As a remaster of the Moonshine Edition it has the best of all worlds. It includes none of the identifying details from the previous versions, and all the erection-killing humour that you all know and hate. It is a version that I can share freely. To provide some context, this story started as a relatively innocent dream consisting of the events of A Warm Place. Following this, the dream cut to me and Rachel returning to the shelter. Sadly, the original dream only went up to the point where she spread her pussy lips in the bathroom and nothing more. When I woke up I mentioned the dream to my friend, who prompted me to tell them more. I did, and while they enjoyed it, I felt like I was left wanting. It was so close to being something that I could have enjoyed, but it went limp just like that. Just like a horny girl with a full bladder, I didn't want to let it go, but paradoxically the solution in the end was to let it all flow. I typed out the version of the dream that I wished happened in the form of Discord messages. That was version 0.5, where it all started. Months later, here we are with what I hope is the best version yet. Part 1: A Warm Place Sauce: My own photographs, shot on a Samsung A52s 5G (this phone sucks lmao) Author's foreword: This is the first part of a two part omorashi story. It is a worldbuilding prequel that describes the location the main piece takes place in. This story takes place in the garden city of Singapore, specifically at Marina Bay near the Merlion Park. I have been an amateur writer for a long time but this is my first omorashi story, even if this is the final version. Please tell me what you think, whether you enjoyed it and how I can improve. Buckle up and start chugging water, iced tea or better still... a one-liter mega cup of iced Milo. As one of the oldest insurance companies in Singapore, Lion City Insurance (LCI) has been a constant companion to the city of lions since 1969. LCI believes dignity and comfort are the right of all human beings. To demonstrate our conviction to this belief we are unveiling a state of the art pilot shelter for the destitute and financially vulnerable in the lower levels of our local headquarters. This shelter will include a canteen, a coworking room for both office workers and students, and comfortable private quarters for each resident. More importantly, the shelter will boast clean and modern bathrooms with warm showers. This shelter will set a precedent and send a message to other major corporations and entities that the time to give back is now. Whether through similar shelters or other smaller means, LCI hopes to be the first spark in a movement. I'll be honest. I have a burning hatred for large entities with vast sums of money. Entities such as LCI claim to believe in helping the common worker, yet any amount of further digging will quickly unearth that this is horseshit. Poorly disguised horseshit, at that. Ever looked at the fine print and conditions of your LCI insurance policy? For a company that claims to be a safety net in your time of need, they sure do pay out very little and only in very specific circumstances. Of course, this isn't news. Why should people overfull with money have any reason to give a fuck about the poor? All that the rich need to do is squirt some cash at the masses every now and then to pretend that they're helping. This is why I wasn't even fazed when LCI announced their new state of the art pilot shelter for the disadvantaged and the destitute. I blew it off as more corporate virtue signalling that would probably be a trainwreck of incompetence. The first time I visited this shelter, I was cycling through Marina Bay when I saw a middle aged man having mechanical issues with his bicycle. I stopped to help him. It was a quick fix, but we started a conversation. Jeremy. This man's name is Jeremy. He tells told me how thankful he is that I fixed his bicycle. It isn't much, but it is his prized possession. He uses it to get around and exercise. It is his main defence against his borderline obesity and rising cholesterol levels. He offers to treat me with dinner. This surprises me, but as it turns out Jeremy isn't poor. In fact, he makes a decent wage each month and now that I look closely at him, he is wearing nicer clothes than me. I am reminded once more of the harsh reality of Singapore's housing situation. Here is a relatively well-off man who, despite his healthy finances, cannot afford or find an apartment. We talk at length over a restaurant dinner about the experience of living destitute in Singapore. With a jaded tone, he tells me that his nuclear family is in disarray. After having a severe fallout with them, he no longer has a roof over his head. His extended family refuse to take him in, and he is still on the waiting list for an apartment whose monthly installment payments will leave him with little to no savings. He then offers to show me where he lives which, to my surprise, is the LCI shelter. Me and Jeremy walk up to a large but rather unassuming door. Jeremy presses his thumb to the biometric sensor. It unlocks for his thumbprint, the automatic door sliding open. Stepping inside, I am blown away by how spacious and cozy the place is. The floor is laminated wood. Everything is hazel, light brown, beige and several other in-between shades. The lights are a dim and warm orange. Jeremy parks his bicycle at the bicycle rack next to the door. He does not use his bicycle lock. Jeremy offers to show me around the place, but tells me to be quiet. I leave my socks on, tiptoeing around gingerly to minimize noise. The shelter is laid out in a linear but winding fashion, with a path connecting all of the rooms in sequence. The first room is a small coworking room. It is slightly elevated and protrudes out from the building. It is equipped with comfortable chairs and large tables, complete with socket strips. Jeremy tells me that the residents can choose to turn on warm ambient lights when studying at night, and usually have the courtesy to turn them off when the room is unoccupied. However, the people working tonight have chosen to leave the lights off. This puts the room in pitch black, and allows moonlight to enter through massive bay windows which take up the entirety of 3 protruding panels of the room. The windows provide a spectacular view of Marina Bay. There are a few people still up working together. Sauce: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2016-04-05_Marina_Bay_Sands_at_night_01.jpg Like the rest of the shelter all the chairs, tables and walls are presumably a soft shade of very light beige, almost white but not quite. In the pitch blackness of the room, I can barely tell. Jeremy tells me that even though it might not seem like much, this coworking room is used by people in the shelter for everything from university projects to small business meetings. Many people depend on this room to keep their careers and studies afloat. To carve themselves a future, and to keep moving with the flow of the world. The next room we enter also has a large window. However, the chairs here are benches instead. There is one food store and one drink store which are open 24/7. Jeremy tells them that while the food here is good, those who are financially stable like him will often visit restaurants to treat themselves. Next, we pass by a series of several doors. Jeremy tells me that each of them is a separate hotel-style bathroom with a toilet and shower. This, he tells me, allows the residents the basic human dignity of privacy. Having lockable doors and a room all to yourself to use is a key comfort that many destitute people rarely get to enjoy, and for this he is grateful. Just like the rest of the shelter, the inside of the toilets is warmly lit. Unlike the coworking room, these warm lights give off enough of a glow to see well in the bathrooms. Despite the fact that this arrangement is highly conducive to masturbation and sex, they are all very clean. Each of these bathrooms even has a bidet and a hotel-style sink counter and mirror. The final series of rooms is a collection of separate quarters, again with lockable doors. Each of the shelter's residents gets a small private quarters with a single bed, a chair and desk with wall sockets, a chest of drawers, and a window with blinds. Jeremy shows me his quarters. Their sliding wooden door allows for privacy, and a light switch allows him to sleep in complete darkness. This would not be possible in a dormitory, which still requires some light to enter the room at all times so that people can see. With that, Jeremy yawns and says that he is going to wind down for the day. He tells me that I can come and visit him around the same time whenever, because this is when he does a short ride around the city with his sparse free time in order to stay healthy. As I walk out of the shelter, a strange reality begins to sink in. This place is actually pleasant to live in. Even though its capacity is currently very small due to it being a pilot project, it is undeniable that the people who proposed the project actually cared about what they were doing... which was a strange thing to say about executives from a large corporate entity. Maybe absolute wealth doesn't corrupt absolutely. Maybe... maybe I'm wrong. Nah, that can't be. I'm never wrong. Part 2: Moon Showers Author's foreword: There are three climaxes to this story, one for each time the girl pees, with no relation to when she cums. The second is much more intense than the first, so hold out for that if you can. The third is a bonus for the afterglow. A couple of weeks ago, I went to my second anime convention ever with my friend. He told me that he was going to this convention specifically so that he could see this one cosplayer he kept calling "mommy Rachel". I didn't quite understand what the fuss was about... until I saw her. Rachel, for lack of a better description, is thick as fuck. She is best described as an "ara ara machine". Despite being 27, she looks much younger than 25. Honestly, the first thing I noticed about her was her massive tits, and that's the way it stayed for a while. Whenever I thought of her, I thought of her tits. Rachel was tits. Of course, it's not just tits that Rachel has to offer. She is thick all over, with massive thighs joined to a huge but round ass with a noticeable pelvic line. You can imagine my surprise when she sent me a few DMs on Instagram. We started chatting, getting close over time. I became a staple on her Twitch streams, becoming her number one fan. One day, she invited me out for dinner at Marina Bay. Rachel turns up wearing a long, heavy coat that goes all the way down to her feet. I find this odd, but I don't comment on it. Throughout the night, I am constantly aware of the fact that Rachel can't seem to ever get enough fluids. She drinks bottle after bottle of mineral water, including several cups of iced tea. I ask her if she is feeling alright, but she says she is fine. I suggest that she should slow down, but she refuses. I can tell something is on her mind, so I suggest that we take a walk along the Bay to get some fresh air. Our walk takes us up to the Merlion. Even in the middle of a pandemic and in the dead of night, Singapore's iconic lion-mermaid statue is still spewing a constant and noisy stream of water. I take a moment to appreciate the soothing sound of the raging stream of water being dumped into the Bay, and it is now that I notice a look of palpable distress on Rachel's face. The sound seems to be troubling her, causing her to look almost panicked. As we walk back southbound towards The Fullerton Bay Hotel she begins fidgeting, then bouncing. Just a few hundred meters in, she is already crossing and uncrossing her legs. I ask her point blank what is wrong, and she tells me that she has to pee. I panic. The nearest toilets that I know the location of for sure are the ones at the Merlion and the one in the (pretentiously named) Shoppes at Marina Bay. I know for a fact that the staff at the hotel won't let us in, even if it's an emergency. Both the Merlion and the Shoppes are much too far from our location, and I know that Rachel will not make it. As I am thinking, a wave of pain hits Rachel's bladder. A pained expression flashes across her face, and I know that we do not have much time. There is a boardwalk that hovers over the water between us and the Fullerton Bay Hotel. I briefly consider if it would be illegal for her stand at the railing there and urinate directly into the Bay. The answer is clearly yes. What if she relieved herself into one of the nearby planters? Surely that would be less illegal. Still, it is not an ideal solution. Right on cue, I notice a guy riding on a very familiar bicycle. It's Jeremy, a friend of mine who lives in a fancy homeless shelter in the nearby LCI building. I yell to him, and he comes to a stop. I explain that I have a bit of a situation. The girl I'm with-- no Jeremy, she's not my girlfriend, but I wish she was-- really needs to use the bathroom. My man Jeremy comes in clutch and takes us hurriedly to the shelter. Even while we brisk walk, Rachel is already stripping off her long coat. She slides it off, revealing her naked shoulders. She then discards the coat onto a nearby bench, and I make no comment. Rachel's skin is light, smooth and flawless. Next to be exposed are her D-cup breasts, which jiggle like an earthquake with each step. The phrase "Marin "Earthquake" Kitagawa" appears briefly in my mind. I also notice that Rachel isn't wearing a bra. Instead, her top is held up by two bands attached to her upper arms. Around her neck there is a thick black choker with a metal heart outline dangling from it. Actually, what kind of a top is this? It reveals everything, and the part cupping her breasts is bordered by a frilly white. The rest of the top is pitch black. As the coat falls off entirely, I can now see that Rachel is wearing what looks to be a bunny girl suit. The bottom of the one piece suit arcs aggressively, exposing the line where her torso meets her thigh. A large amount of skin is visible, and the exposed area encroaches on her belly. Her entire pubic area is visible, and there is just enough fabric to cover her pussy but nothing more. Perched on her large butt is a small cotton tail, like that of a rabbit. I note curiously that Rachel is chubby, but to just the right amount. Just as I expected, she is thick all over. Everything from her face to her breasts, her thighs to her butt is ample and full. Despite this, her skin is flawless. There are no creases or folds, all of her is smooth, and every edge of every curve is well defined. After removing the coat, Rachel lets out a strangely adorable squeaking noise before jamming her hands against her pussy. After Jeremy unlocks the door to the shelter, he tells us to hurry ahead. Rachel does not hesitate, stomping loudly into the shelter with no care for anyone who might still be awake and working. Once we are out of sight of Jeremy, Rachel asks for her bag while doing a pee dance. She removes a gray haired wig and a set of bunny ears, putting them on. She also puts on a set of black fingerless leather gloves. Is she...putting on a cosplay? At a time like this? Something is off. Throughout the tedious process of putting everything on, I can hear her breathing becoming more and more ragged with each passing minute. it is tortured, but also oddly... pleasured? A manic edge grows in her breathing, and I think I can hear her shudder a little. Somehow, for some reason I cannot explain, she is enjoying this. As she finishes wearing the outfit, I can see that she is dressed as a bunny girl version of Sakamata Chloe, a Vtuber. Sauce: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/106453149 Rachel jams her hand against her pussy once more, this time even harder. A wild look flashes across her face, and she begins rubbing herself. She hobbles with her hands between her legs over to the first toilet, sliding the door open violently. I struggle to close it behind us and lock it. I expect that she would head for the bowl immediately, but she doesn't. The shower, then? That would be fun. Nope. Once she sees that the door is closed, Rachel hoists herself up onto the large, cold marble countertop. She then plops her entire body down unceremoniously, sending a shockwave that travels up her butt and through her massive tits, coming in at 6.9 on the Rachel Scale. As she sits down, I notice that her bunny suit lacks an in-built corset, and it begins to crease at the belly. As I watch, fat rolls form, making her somehow more and not less attractive. Her large butt flattens against the hard surface, and she hangs her legs over the edge facing me. The part of her thighs hanging over the edge begin to droop from gravity. I find this fucking hot. Once again, she begins stroking her pussy through the fabric of the suit, pausing only to ask me in a slightly crazed tone "wanna see?" I manage to snap myself out of my trance long enough to stutter out "h- hai!". The fact that I replied in Japanese proves that the part of me which craves JAV and hentai has awoken, and I know this will not end well. Rachel spreads her legs, and pulls my head in close to her crotch. Her scent is overpowering. Some of it is her sweet perfume. But part of it is just... her. A deeply intoxicating scent emanates from her crotch. With a gloved hand, she pulls the fabric of her bunny suit aside to expose her pussy. To my surprise, there are no beef curtains. Instead, Rachel has a large but near perfect innie pussy. It looks like a perfect bunny cunny, plump and completely bare. Somehow, there is not even a single hair or visible pore on the entirety of her groin. Her naked pussy lips are pale and perfectly untained. Rachel takes her hand off me to spread her pussy lips open. Pink. I see a perfect sea of bright pink. Bright pink that is smooth and interrupted only by some small bumps and two holes. As I look deep inside Rachel, I don't notice her biting her lip. What I do notice is a loud hissing noise and a jet of clear liquid hitting my face from the top smaller hole. It is warm and smells intoxicatingly sweet and absurdly pleasant. It tastes salty. Rachel, with her fingers still spreading her lips, thrusts her hips outward slightly. The next jet of urine flies low, landing on my chest. As it soaks into my clothes and dribbles down slowly it causes a warm, fuzzy and very wet feeling. For some strange reason, I feel like I've just been given a warm hug, only a million times better. So large was the jet that as it soaks into my clothes. It begins to cover my entire body, leaving not a single cold spot. I feel like I'm a hot tub. No, a hot tub isn't quite right. I feel like I'm in a hot tub filled entirely with Rachel's pee, and it is the most subarashii- no, the most kimochi thing I have ever experienced. I'm busy enjoying my wonderful gift when Rachel lets out a hentai sound effect that is halfway between a moan and a squeak. Again, Rachel thrusts her hips forwards, this time more violently. The hiss is back once more, and a long jet of urine hits my face directly. It's still hot from her body heat, almost painfully so. My whole face is now drenched, and the pleasant scent of her urine now overwhelms my senses entirely. It's in every pore of my face, dripping down onto my neck and body. Rachel's juice is covering everything in a salty yet sweet layer. Once last time, Rachel moans and thrusts. A long jet of piss sprays high up, missing me but hitting everything else. It's on the shower curtain, the shower head, the walls, and some of it is now dripping from the ceiling. I can hear it, and feel it falling down like indoor rain. Pitter patter. After letting out those intermittent jets of urine, Rachel closes her legs and clamps her hands over her peehole. This seems to send a wave of pain through her, and when she opens up her legs again I can see that her entire pussy is swollen, and the area around it is also a shade of red. Rachel grabs my hand and forces me to stroke her as ecstasy flashes across her face. Faster and faster she moves my hand until I take over, leaving her hands free to pull her top down. She grabs at her own breasts, massaging them. I can see that she is rapidly losing her mind. She then asks to switch. With trembling hands, she puts my hands on her breasts and I start to massage them while she strokes her pussy. Still, I can tell that Rachel needs more force to finish. She tries to rub my leg against her crotch, but the counter is in the way. A few awkward seconds go by as we try to find a way for her to perform tribadism against my leg, but the bulky marble slab counter isn't helping things at all. Frustrated, Rachel hops off the counter, taking off the main swimsuit-shaped portion of the bunny suit and tossing it in the shower. With her still wet hands, she unlocks the toilet door and slides it open. I try to stop her, but to my horror she grabs my hand and drags me out, stomping loudly through the shelter. I am painfully aware that her bare ass and naked pussy are exposed to the cold night air and anyone lucky enough to walk by. Thankfully by this time the people working at the coworking room have gone to sleep, leaving the room in pitch blackness. Rachel drags me all the way up to the bay windows. I now notice that there is a long couch there, giving the perfect view of the full moon over the Bay. The moon is bright tonight, and it bathes the room in an ethereal silver light. Sauce: https://www.reddit.com/r/singapore/comments/hl4t3m/full_moon_rising_over_mbs/ Rachel shoves me unceremoniously down onto the couch into a sitting position. She then climbs onto me, throwing her arms around my neck. Kicking off her shoes she begins tribbing, rubbing her pussy lips against my thigh and torso. Soft and squishy. All I feel is a heavenly mass of soft and squishy. Her bulbous butt wraps itself around my thigh, a sensation I can only describe as divine. Better still is her squishy pussy, which she begins thrusting against me over and over. Tighter and tighter she grips my back, now shoving her crotch onto my belly with each thrust. I hold on to her too, thrusting to her rhythm, locked into her embrace. Her friction. Her fuwa-fuwa. Rachel's warm breath comes out in gasps and soft moans that hit my neck, and the scent of her real hair under the gray wig seems to grow stronger over time. I close my eyes to savour the moment, allowing wave after wave of pleasure and satisfaction to wash over me. I let my head go loose with pleasure. When I open my eyes with my head pointed away from Rachel, I find that my gaze has come to rest on what was in my blindspot a few seconds ago. A CCTV camera. Sure enough, as I focus harder on it, there is a tiny light indicating where the lens is facing. That light is pointed towards us. "R...Rachel...." I manage to stutter. I ask her if she wants to stop, in view of the fact that we are right under a camera. To my dismay she lets out a manic giggle. Her moans get more and more feral, loud to an almost vulgar degree. What the fuck is this? Does she not care about waking up the residents? No... she enjoys this. She enjoys being watched. Rachel has lost all control. She is now thrusting her entire body frantically against mine, rubbing her somehow still swelling girlhood more and more forcefully. Her pussy lips and inner thighs are now bright red from the friction. I can feel small dribbles of urine leaking from her pussy, and as she thrashes they drip all over my body. Her loud and unrestrained moans mix in with pleasured laughter. She's having an amazing time riding me, and I wonder how this compares to the rollercoasters at Universal Studios. Rachel is saying something. What is she saying? I can barely make it out. Everything coming out of her mouth sounds like a moan at this point. She's going to.... oh no, she's going to cum. I pull her into me with each thrust, and her tribbing becomes longer and harder with each stroke. Faster and faster, more and more. Her body slams against mine, sending waves of her sugarsweet scent against me. Urine, sweat and pheromones mix together into a deadly cocktail. I can feel myself losing sanity. I'm becoming insane, insane, insane. I am brought back to my senses when Rachel lets out a long and drawn out moan. Her pelvis is now thrusting itself. I pull her against my belly, and I can feel her pelvic floor muscles pulsating powerfully and slowly. Everything from her bladder to her vagina rises and falls in perfect rhythm. With her exhausted voice, I can just barely make out Rachel asking me to turn her around to face the window, so I do. She goes soft with the pleasure from orgasm, melting in my arms as I hear the familiar loud hissing of urine rushing out Rachel's peehole. Her dam has burst, and a great surge of pee shoots out from her now rapidly deflating bladder. The firehose stream flies up a couple of meters high, pelting the laminated wooden floor with enough liquid to ensure it is beyond repair. Rachel is pissing like a racehorse now, and her stream keeps getting stronger. It gains distance and hits the bay window, giving anyone still awake at Marina Bay a front row view of a rare Singaporean watersports performance. I'm sure anyone who can see us wishes they were in the splash zone. HHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS The urine hits the window with so much force that much of it is thrown directly back at us, showering us with a gentle drizzle. The urine which clings to the window fans out into a massive vertical puddle with enough violent ripples to render much of the view completely distorted. It flows down in a continuous waterfall directly onto the floor, where the water level keeps rising. It's starting to look like "ponding" in Orchard Road during monsoon season. That's a Singapore government euphemism for it's fucking flooding. The puddle on the floor keeps growing, rapidly and aggressively. The tidal wave of piss keeps on advancing. I'll need a sampan to get out of here and I do not care. I'll find a kayak and a paddle if it comes to that. My arms, wrapped around Rachel's torso, can feel her bladder bulge get smaller and smaller as her breathing gets faster and faster. A wicked idea crosses my mind, and I press down on her bladder. Rachel's stream immediately becomes much stronger, and for a second I'm afraid her walls won't hold. As Rachel slouches backwards into a lying position on me the stream gains height, hitting the ceiling and raining down on the couch from above us. It's raining piss. There's no hope for this shelter now. LCI really did put their all into this place, and they've improved the lives of so many people but it's all over now. We just had to come in and ruin it. Rachel just had to pee EVERYWHERE, and I just had to help her do it. Now that there is urine on virtually every surface of the coworking room, it will be hard for them not to cordon off this biohazard zone permanently. Still, in my selfish mind, I just cannot bring myself to care. The warm indoor rain of Rachel's urine feels too good, and her soft body in my arms is all the comfort I need. In this moment I am complete. I am at peace, because this is all I want from life. Slowly and gradually, Rachel's stream dies down and I notice how heavy she is. My arms are tired, and my legs are completely numb. Maybe she is a lot thicker than I initially realised. Still smiling, she opens her eyes slowly and pulls me into a hug, pressing her piss-soaked body against my dripping wet torso. I stroke her wig, but I feel like something isn't quite right. Gently, I take the bunny ears off Rachel's head, removing the wig and gently pulling the hair net off her scalp. Then, I remove her extended lashes, followed by her gloves. Finally, I take off her stocking and pantyhose. Now I get to see the authentic Rachel. Without all of the frills she looks older. She looks her actual age of 27. Without the lashes her eyes are small and plain. Without the stocking and pantyhose her thighs look a bit more fat than thick. Without the top her breasts are a bit saggy. But I don't care. I still think she's hot, or hell, even hotter. After all, I don't want Chloe, and I don't want a wild bunny girl. I just want Rachel. After all of that insanity, I lead Rachel back into the shower and hose her down rapidly. We don't have much time, and once I see that the coast is clear I drag Rachel into a dash for the front door. I find her coat still sitting on the bench where she left it, and I get her to put it on to cover herself up. As we try to act normal and walk towards Bayfront MRT, I notice a trail of droplets forming on the tiles behind Rachel. Small circles that very distinctly colour the grey tiles black. You've got to be fucking with me. After all that, she's still not done? I tell her to release some of it into a nearby bush, so she pops a squat and does so. Just seconds later, however, I spot someone passing by. I tell Rachel, and she immediately gets up from her squatting position, crossing her legs to stop the flow. We keep moving, but Rachel begins to leak again almost immediately. I ask her if she can hold on for a while longer, but she tells me no. She has to pee, now. I highly doubt that. Before I can stop her, however, Rachel has stripped off her coat once more. She dashes excitedly towards the railing over the water, grinning like she is about to do something very naughty. Still standing, she grabs the railing, pushing her hips forwards. There it is again. That beautiful sound. HIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS A continuous stream of urine flies in a wide arc before splashing noisily into the Bay. On one hand, I wish I was a fish in the water that Rachel is peeing in. On the other hand, I'm in a state of panic wondering what the total fine for indecency, environmental pollution and public urination will be. Still, I manage to bring myself back into the moment and appreciate what is happening in front of me. A painfully hot girl under the light of the full moon, standing with her hips thrust forward, a shimmering unbroken stream of urine flying from her reddened pussy. It is then that I realise that this, to me, is nirvana. It is then that I realise some things are worth the risk of being thrown in jail and bankrupted with fines. Dear Singapore, It is with great disappointment that Lion City Insurance must announce our new shelter has been vandalized. Last night two individuals, one female and one of indeterminate sex who appear to be a couple entered the shelter through the goodwill of one of its residents, who will remain anonymous. CCTV footage shows the female fully nude urinating in the open. Please know that the motive of the culprits is unknown. They are not known to LCI, and they are not residents of the shelter. We have stored the footage of the crime, and are working with the relevant authorities to track them down. A censored version is available for viewing at the end of this statement. LCI does not place any blame on the residents of the shelter, or the resident who let the culprits in. We are aware of the countless stereotypes that our society has formed against the destitute, and would like to remind the public to pass judgement based on facts rather than impulse. To that end, all current evidence shows that the residents are clearly innocent. It bears repeating that this act is morally outrageous and directly damaging to the welfare of the shelter's residents. LCI urges would-be offenders of all kinds to think before they act. To consider the damage that they do to others, in particular the less fortunate. The message of this shelter is a simple one: Sometimes we should take small losses to our personal wellbeing if it results in large gains to the wellbeing of others. Make no mistake-- the offenders here perverted this message, grabbing a small gain to their personal pleasure at the cost of severe damage to the wellbeing of others.
  10. From the album: OMO:The World Ends with You

    The one benefit of life in the UG is that all of Shibuya is your personal litterbox.

    © NEO: The World Ends with You

  11. From the album: OMO:The World Ends with You

    What's the matter, cat got your tongue? 😉

    © NEO: The World Ends with You

  12. Version 1.0.0

    475 downloads

    The Unruly Girl Rehabilitation program was created to forcibly give valuable experiences to unruly girls in a virtual world and transform them into contributing members of society! The first subject of the Program was chosen to be Tachibana Ageha, and you have received the honor of being selected as the player! You will serve as Ageha’s pilot to guide her through her mission in this virtual world. Perhaps, if you can overcome the dangers and temptations of the Program, you may be able to rehabilitate her! Of course, the entire adventure will be broadcast live all over the country and watched by many people. Will you be able to transform Ageha into a kind-hearted, serious girl!?
    Free
  13. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Ferries aren't known for their speed... and apparently this one isn't known for having a working ladies' room! That is a deadly combination for these four, who --- having arrived too early for the ferry--- decided to fill their time waiting by sucking down copious amounts of lemonade at the beach-side drink bar. It's been over an hour, and their mood had gone from jovial about their summertime vacation to utterly grim once "just wait to pee on the boat" had become "you can't pee on the boat." They all knew what that meant... Pulsing waves of misery and tear-filled eyes mark a valiant effort to hold in what must have been over a liter of lemonade each. But with the ferry only inching along --- and an arrival time once two hours out now stretching to three amid the frequent stops --- their prospects for successfully carrying all that liquid to shore are slim. The gentle, rolling waters spreading in the wake of the vessel taunt them mercilessly with the offer of a trade: comfort for dignity.
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