Search the Community

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.

My Life as a Diaper Slave at Disney – 1 By: Heather23 Edited by: DaddyRich Chapter 1 - Introduction Well I promised to write again and here I am. If you didn't read my earlier account, I am Kim and I met my husband Chris during my sorority initiation. In my mind, the initiation changed my life forever because I learned how I respond to humiliation and diaper play. I also met my husband, Chris in the process. It has been several years since college. We are in our 30s, happily married, we both finished our education, and Chris has established a successful practice as a dentist. But enough about the boring stuff, my guess is that if you are reading this account, you want to learn what we have been up to since our college days. First, let me tell you that I am typing this update at the public library. I am at one of the computer stations, and it is very quiet. Chris brought me here on his way to work, and I have been instructed to tell you some of our most intimate secrets. He tells me that everyone always wants to know what girls are wearing, what they are feeling, what they look like, etc. and so here it goes. I am slim (115 pounds), 5 foot, 7 inches. I have long hair, and people say that I turn heads when I enter a room. I used to do quite a bit of modeling and still do on occasion. Chris insists that I keep my hair long because at times he has me put bows in my hair during our role-play sessions. I am wearing a fairly short blue plaid skirt, and a white blouse. I look like a teenage schoolgirl and that is exactly the look Chris wanted for me today. Although it is certainly risqué, I am also wearing high, black, shiny patent leather boots (not too school-girlish). The boots come up and over my knees, similar to what Julia Roberts wore in the movie classic, Pretty Woman. I am sure that I draw attention dressed like I am. This embarrasses me, but I know that Chris loves me and that is all that matters. Ladies, don't get me wrong, I have some backbone, but I am also deeply turned on by being put in humiliating situations, and I am so in love with the man who controls my life. What else am I wearing? Under my skirt I have on a thick nighttime plastic backed disposable diaper (I didn't even know these things existed a few years ago). The diaper is tightly secured and Chris even took the extra step of fastening the diaper extra tight with packing tape. Not only is each diaper tab secured with packing tape, but Chris circled my entire diaper at my waist with the tape. He likes to secure my diaper in this fashion so that I can't take it off without a struggle and so that if I try to remove it, I would leave obvious evidence that I tampered with my diaper. He calls it my "diaper prison." Secretly, I love the secure feeling of a really tight diaper (I guess Chris knows that now). Over my diaper I am wearing translucent powder blue plastic panties. I feel incredibly sexy dressed as I am, and I also feel like I could become deeply humiliated at any moment if the need to pee takes over me. This combination has me at an amazing state of arousal. Chris knows that I thrive on being humiliated, and he takes full advantage of it. I almost forgot... the boots I am wearing have a very small decorative chain attached to each boot and Chris used these chains to his advantage. Just before he left me here alone in the library, Chris kissed me goodbye. He then quickly reached down and wrapped a small chain around my chair leg just above one of the chair's cross rungs. In the same movement, he locked this chain to the decorative chains on my boots. In effect, I am secured to the chair I am sitting on. When it happened I panicked. It took just a second to process what had happened, but there I was; sitting dressed as a complete tramp, encased in a diaper, and locked to the very chair I was sitting on. I knew I was had and immediately tried to complain to Chris. Chris was prompt to respond, " Kimberly you know that you have been a very naughty girl." "You know that you have been very bratty lately, and you should know by now what happens to bad little girls who don't listen to their Daddies." "I have been asking you to update our sex diary, and you never found time to type it out." "You Kimberly, not me, are responsible for your current circumstances." "I want you to sit here until I come back." "I want you to express yourself in your writings, but I also want you to feel the humiliation as you write." "Don't ever forget that you are in a diaper and plastic panties." "Don't ever forget for one moment that you are dressed like a total slut and might cause people to look at you with great interest." "My suggestion is that you do not bring attention to yourself." "Sure you could stand up and drag your chair out of here with your ankles secured to the chair leg, but would you?" "My guess is that you will do exactly as you are told." "Do not get up, do not ask for help, and complete your assignment as I ordered, or you will regret it!" "Finally, don't ever forget about your nice comfy diaper on your bottom...it is just waiting to be introduced to your pee." "I will call you in a while on your cell phone to see how you are coming... I mean progressing." With that, Chris left and there I was sitting alone to complete my assignment. Suddenly Chris reappeared and said, "I almost forgot...where are my manners?" "Here is an extra large coffee that I want you to finish before I return." "If I return to find that you have not finished your coffee or that you have not made progress with your writing assignment, you will regret it." "Understood?" I said, "understood." Wow. All of this was a bit more than I bargained for when I left the house this morning. While I certainly appreciated the coffee Chris brought me, I know that his real purpose was to add to the fluids I had already drank earlier this morning and that amount was substantial. I know that he wants me to sit here and struggle to complete my assignment in agony as my need to pee grows. I also know how stupid it sounds, but I always think that I can ignore my growing need to pee and last until I get out of my diaper prison. How many times do I have to relive my stupidity? How many times do I succumb and wet my diaper? Here is my writing assignment. I am going to tell you about an adventure that Chris and I experienced recently at Disney. There are many to choose from, but there will be time hopefully in the future when Chris once again tells me to update our diary. Let's get started because I have this feeling that I am going to have to get intimate with my diaper later on and test its limits! To be continued…..

“I-I’m gonna bust!” Erica whined, jiggling the front doorknob as she danced on the spot. She winced as her hand shot to her crotch. “Guys, I’m serious! It hurtsss…” Two of her friends laughed at her, looking at her through the window. “Why do you have to pee so bad?” one of them asked. “Your house is far!” she exclaimed. “I had to go since before I left, I just didn’t think about it…” “Why wouldn’t you go at your…” “Obviously I thought I’d be able to go here!” she snapped, hopping from foot to foot. “Ohhh, I’m dying, I’m dying…” She saw them whispering to each other and laughing. She groaned miserably. “Please just let me in! I’ll do anything, I just have to pee right now, please!” “Anything?” her friend echoed, before turning around and whispering something else. She turned back. “Strip naked and we’ll let you in.” Erica busted out laughing. “Don’t do that! I’m so serious, Ellie, I have to go really bad!” “If you have to go so bad, why don’t you strip naked so we’ll let you in?” “Ughhh!” Hands tightly squeezing her crotch, she started marching around, squishing her thighs together with every step. “I’m about to pee my pants!” she groaned, doubling over and shoving her hands in her pants, gripping between her legs. “Boy, do you look stupid. If you took your clothes off, you could run to the bathroom right away.” Erica giggled, but stormed over to the window. “You guys are weirdos!” she scolded. “I can’t wait for the opportunity to do this to one of you guyyssss—“ with the last word, she started to piss her pants. She jerked her legs together and bent over, hands buried in between her thighs. It didn’t take long to stem the flow, but once she started leaking, Erica knew she didn’t have much time left before she’d have another accident. Her friends busted out laughing. “Oh, fuck you!” she said as she turned and ran around the side of the house. “Erica!” Laurel called from her open window. “Whoa, damn, what’s the rush? “Jacine and Ellie won’t let me in the house and I’m about to pee in my pants!” she whined, holding herself and dancing crazily. “So you’re gonna pee outside?” “No! I’m gonna check the backdoor.” “It’s locked. They locked it.” “Will you unlock it for me?” “No way! I don’t wanna be on their shitlist.” “Come onnn! Oooh…” she frantically crossed her legs, doubling over and clutching herself as a squirt of piss shot into her underwear. Her urethra burned badly. “T-they won’t let me in the house unless I get naked for them on the front porch!” “Bahahahah! Are you gonna do it?” “Nnn… I c-can’t…” she twisted her legs up like a pretzel. “I’m embarrassed.” “I mean, people are naked around here all the time. We’re within walking distance of a nude beach.” A powerful pang of urgency rippled through Erica’s urinary system. She jerked her butt back, one hand gripping her crotch while she pressed her fingers into herself from behind. “I’m gonna have an accident!” she moaned. The tight shape of her full bladder could be felt pressing against her other organs and bulging out of her belly. She was absolutely dying to use a toilet. She stormed over to the stairs and sat down on the top step, scooting her butt around. Her full bladder went through a serious of contractions, pulsing painfully. She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “Oooh, I really gotta fucking pee!” she yelled in frustration, unbuttoning her pants to ease the constriction around her bulging pee baby. She heard the door unlock and open behind her. She turned around so quickly that it painfully jostled her overfilled bladder. Jacine slammed the door and locked it as soon as she saw her. Erica got up and ran to the door, banging on it with one hand pressing between her thighs. “Please, let me in! Please, I need to piss so fucking badly, I feel like I’m gonna explode…” “Erica, it’s so weird that you’re not doing the one thing that would get you inside to pee.” Erica huffed, dancing desperately. She looked around nervously, then unzipped her fly. “Don’t tell anyone about this!” she told them, pulling her pants and underwear down and kicking them off over her shoes. “Ooooh!” Jacine and Ellie broke out in hysterical laughter. She pulled her shirt off and unclipped her bra, stepping around crazily and jerking her butt around. She looked around constantly, covering her chest with her arms, nervous that someone might see her. “Please hurry up…” she muttered, moving her hips around, clenching every muscle in the region. “I’m about to pee on myself, I’m so serious…” A little bit of pee came out and trickled down her legs. “Mmmmph…!” she groaned, squeezing her vagina tightly. “O-Okay, come on! Let me in, already!” Jacine held up her phone and pointed the camera at the desperate, naked girl. Erica’s face burned a deep red, shuddering with humiliation. “W-Whoa, don’t video! No pictures, holy fuck, dude!” “I’m kidding!” she laughed, turning it around to show the homescreen of her phone. “That wasn’t funny!” she scolded, hitting the window with her fist. Then, even though she was holding and squeezing herself madly, golden liquid started leaking out of her pussy, gushing through her fingers, streaming down her legs and splattering onto the deck. “Ahhhh noooo, fuck fuck fuck fuck…!” she squealed, running away from the window in embarrassment. She squatted right in front of the stairs, letting hot piss jet freely out of her urethra. “Ahhhh…” she moaned, pleasure tingling in her privates. Then when she saw a car turn onto their street, panic struck her, and she ran around the side of the house, still urinating hard all over her legs. “Oh my god, Erica!” Laurel cackled when her friend came sprinting around the side of the house. As soon as she was somewhat covered from the road, she spread her legs and released her urinary sphincter, standing up and pissing hard. “Ohh, Laurel, don’t look…” she begged. “Holy shit, you really had to go!” she said, her eyes wide at the sight of her friend exploding into the grass. “That’s a strong ass stream!” “Ughh…” she dropped her head. “Actually, I don’t even care. This feels so good. I had to pee so bad.”

(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.