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  1. This was a request from KarenGranger, which I tried to get done in exactly one month, but I've now barely missed (in my time zone). Bummer 😝 Thanks for reading! *** “TJ, move that sawhorse over here.” “Yes, sir.” TJ Masters easily hoisted the frame – you never drag it – and set it where his dad had indicated. Tony Masters was an extremely diligent builder and craftsman; it was why he was one of the most sought-after contractors in their town. More specifically, by the type of people on the east side of town who could afford to add extra wings to their already-enormous houses. TJ had been working for his father for as long as he could remember – stirring paint and washing paintbrushes as a child, sorting tools and accessories in elementary school, and now, joining his dad at work sites, a position he’d earned by precision, hard work, and virtually never making mistakes. Needless to say, TJ and Tony didn’t live in the same neighborhood as the people they worked for. Tony kept his margins low, but he almost always only worked one job at a time, so, despite his wealthy clientele, he wasn’t exactly pulling in seven figures himself. So one of the most important rules on worksites for TJ was to keep his mouth shut. He was there as a worker; he kept his head down, completed the list of tasks for the day, cleaned up after himself, and left, taking care not leave any boot prints on the property. TJ didn’t really mind. He liked the work, and he wasn’t much of an extrovert, anyway, so when they did end up working at one of his classmate’s houses, it was neither awkward nor distracting. Until today. TJ never knew where they’d be going when they started a new job; he never needed to. He’d just get in the truck with his dad and start work when they got to the house. Today, they pulled onto the grounds of a newer house on the edge of town. Tony parked the car around back and explained that they’d be renovating the pool house. TJ hopped out and started unloading the truck, barely paying attention to the giant house or its inhabitants. On his third and final trip out to the truck, TJ caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could stop himself, he looked. And nearly dropped the armful of lumber he was carrying. Strolling out of the back door was Robbie diSantos. Robbie – TJ didn’t even know what his full name was – had just started at TJ’s high school at the beginning of their senior year a couple of weeks ago, and TJ had been instantly smitten. TJ didn’t exactly have an expansive vocabulary, but even if he did, the first word he would use to describe Robbie was cool. Robbie just made everything look so effortless. The clothes he wore were cooler than anything TJ owned, but not in a pretentious way. His hair fell perfectly, but it didn’t even look like he used any product. He was the kind of person who seemed like he didn’t care about any of the everyday drama of high school, and he was all the more impressive for it. Robbie was carrying a book and a glass of something. He settled himself into a pool chair and slipped in his earbuds, apparently not even noticing the Masters. “TJ! Grab that band saw!” TJ blinked and stumbled into motion, ashamed of his juvenile, doe-eyed daze. He doubled back to pick up the band saw and ducked into the pool house, forcing himself to avoid the windows, so as not to keep peeking out toward the pool chairs. So now, TJ had spent the past 3 hours measuring, sanding, and cutting lumber. He’d been working long enough that his dad now trusted him with entire projects, rather than giving one instruction at a time. In this case. He was adding a wall the pool house to partition off a small closet, which he would then fill with shelves. It was simple work, but required precision, and TJ knew that Tony expected the closet to be finished by the end of the day. Focusing on the work helped TJ keep his mind off Robbie for the most part. But every so often, when he turned the saw off or moved newly cut two-by-fours from the table, he’d find himself glancing out the window, semi-consciously hoping to catch a glimpse of his classmate. As noon approached, Tony signaled to TJ that it was time for a break. TJ finished his current task, took of his noise-cancelling headphones, and grabbed a sandwich and bottle of water from the cooler. “Grable’s called, and our stone shipment came in earlier than expected,” Tony said without preamble, between bites of sandwich. “I’m gonna head over there and pick out what we need for the walkway and patio.” “Yes, sir,” TJ replied, already knowing what the next orders would be. “By the time I get to Grable’s, look over the product, load it, I won’t have time to get back here and do anything -” The quarry was an hour and a half away “- so Roy’s on his way to get me. I’ll take the trailer to Grable’s and leave the truck here with you. You finish the closet, clean up, and meet me back at home.” “Yes, sir.” TJ nodded. On one hand, he was oddly honored that his dad trusted him enough to leave him alone at a job site on the first day. On the other hand, did his dad have to abandon him at this particular job? Not that TJ would ever argue with his dad at work. They were there to be efficient and professional, not to engage in family spats. So TJ simply finished his lunch, brushed off his jeans, and went back to work. Tony passed over the keys to the truck before he left, but otherwise, didn’t offer any further instructions. TJ kept working, keeping his headphones on to protect from the noise of the saw. The work and the blazing sun outside warmed the unfinished pool house. Barely even thinking, TJ grabbed another water bottle from the cooler and downed it in between cuts. He’d been working for about another hour – the frame of the wall was in place, now he just had to hang the drywall and shelves – when he felt the first signals of fullness from his bladder. It was just enough to make him aware, but not enough to make him worry. The drywall and the shelves wouldn’t take long. He t grabbed the drywall sheets propped against the wall, then nearly dropped them when he turned back to the table. “Hey.” Robbie stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of Powerade. He looked completely unperturbed, as usual, and TJ scrambled to match Robbie’s level of aloofness. He set down the drywall and pulled down his headphones. “Hey,” he replied, praying his voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt like it was, “what can I do for you?” The corner of Robbie’s mouth quirked up. “Besides the literal work that you’re already doing?” he teased. “Nah, man, I just know how hot it is out here, so I thought I’d bring you some electrolytes.” “Oh!” Instead of gratitude, TJ only felt stupid for not realizing that the drink was meant for him. “Thanks. Thanks, man. That was really nice.” Robbie grinned, keeping eye contact long enough to make TJ’s stomach flutter as he handed over the chilled bottle. “Just shout if you want more. It’s nasty out today.” Compelled by both a desire to show gratitude and a genuine need for more hydration, TJ had already unscrewed the cap and was taking a gulp. He swallowed quickly and attempted a smile, knowing full well he’d never take Robbie up on his offer. TJ downed the entire Powerade before he even knew it. The near-icy drink felt amazing on the hot day, and drinking it so quickly prevented TJ from relishing the fact that Robbie had technically given him a gift. Mostly. The sugar from the drink provided a nice burst of energy while TJ hung the drywall. It was simple work, but time-consuming, as TJ carefully made sure that all the corners aligned perfectly. Safety first, his dad always said, emphasizing quality construction, but aesthetics are a close second. Reaching up to secure the top of the wall, TJ felt an urge from his bladder. He grunted involuntarily and pressed his thighs together. Stupid! he mentally chastised himself. He knew the rules – you don’t leave before the work is done, no matter what. Drinking the extra water bottle and the Powerade had been a terrible decision. TJ grimaced as he stood in front of the closet, quickly assessing how much work he had left to do. The drywall was finished, so he just had to cut and hang the shelves inside. He had all the specs, and since all the shelves were identical, he wouldn’t have to worry about setting up different measurements. “Hey!” The greeting from the window (well, the hole in the wall where the new window would soon be installed) was overly loud, considering TJ didn’t actually have his headphones on at the second. He jumped, then awkwardly tried to disguise the movement by turning to find Robbie smiling at him. “How’s it going?” Robbie asked casually. He looked around at the alterations to the room. “It looks good!” TJ smiled shyly, but only for a second. Sensations from his bladder nagged him, and he hoped his face wasn’t too noticeably red. Well, beyond the existing redness from the heat and the work. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I should be done in about an hour, so you won’t have to deal with the noise too much longer.” “Take your time.” Robbie winked, and this time, TJ was sure his blush was visible. Robbie had walked away, but TJ’s face heated up even more as dozens of thoughts careened around his head – Robbie was flirting with him, he must look like a mess, he had to pee, but he couldn’t until he finished the job… Clenching his jaw, TJ returned to the work table. His nerves were firing overtime, which was not helping his current situation. Just finish the job. Snatching the pressboard with far more force than necessary, TJ mentally scolded himself. He couldn’t let his own poor choices impact the quality of his work – his dad’s work. TJ took a deep breath and clenched his abdominal muscles. Not trusting himself with the band saw just yet, he decided to hang the brackets in the closet. That way, as soon as he had the shelves cut, he could place them, clean up, and leave. Measuring, even though he knew exactly where the studs are, TJ braced himself before each precise shot of the nail gun. The power of the tool still jarred his entire body, but he managed to hang all the brackets without losing control. Allowing himself a brief smile, TJ returned to the saw. All he had to do was cut the pressboard and place the shelves, and he was done! (And clean up, but he wasn’t planning on that taking that long) TJ grabbed the first board, measured, marked, then measured again. He continued the process until the shape of all 4 shelves was precisely delineated. He took a deep breath, positioned his safety goggles, and turned on the band saw. And immediately turned it off again. TJ let out a low groan and bent forward. The vibrations from the saw had caught him off guard, and he’d lost a quick, hot leak. He had to stop and cross his legs to help control the pressure, and he reflexively glanced toward the window to make sure Robbie wasn’t watching. He wasn’t, not that it made TJ feel much better. The immediacy of the desperation passed after a few moments, but TJ felt his heart beating in his throat. He stared plaintively at the saw, as if begging it to go easy on him. Taking a deep breath, TJ straightened up slowly. He squeezed his thighs tightly together, then grabbed the first piece of pressboard and turned on the saw. TJ clenched his jaw so tightly, he thought he might crack a tooth. He could practically feel the liquid vibrating in his overfilled bladder, but he kept his focus trained on the saw, never wavering in the straight lines he was cutting. Unconsciously holding his breath, TJ finished the last cut, ending up with 4 perfectly identical shelves. He gratefully turned off the saw, but the sudden cease in vibrations shocked him into leaking again. The teen whined softly and shoved his hand between his legs. He couldn’t even think about the actual process of getting to a bathroom; he just had to finish this job without making a mess. And without Robbie seeing. TJ pressed tightly through his jeans, his breath hitching. He really shouldn’t have drunk that Powerade. The thought of the Powerade made TJ look sharply over at the window. Thankfully, Robbie was still nowhere in sight. TJ knew he didn’t have much time, so he gave his crotch another squeeze, then stood up and grabbed the stacked boards. He slid the top shelf in, careful not the scratch the wall. The second and third shelves were placed easily enough, but TJ was tall enough that the last shelf required him to bend down. He did. But then he couldn’t get back up. Even the slight bend necessary to help his long arms reach the bottom brackets put too much pressure on TJ’s bladder, and he felt another forceful leak soak into his underwear. He shakily placed the last shelf, then shoved both of his hands between his legs, clenching as tightly as he could. His jeans were awkwardly bunched in his hands, and he didn’t have as comforting of a grip as he wanted, but he couldn’t let go. Tears sprung in TJ’s eyes. He tried to force himself to think of the work he still had to do, but any task-related thoughts were immediately crowded out by the simple biological fact that he couldn’t do anything else right now. He just had to pee. His only remaining clear thought was that he couldn’t have an accident in the pool house. Half-blind with desperation and tears, TJ stumbled out the side door, hands between his legs, and around the side of the building. He barely made it around the corner before he totally lost control. TJ whimpered as he started to actually wet himself, urine pouring over his hands and down both his thighs. His jeans darkened rapidly, and he could hear the splattering of his accident on the dirt below. TJ fought to catch his breath. The relief was spectacular, but not nearly as overwhelming as the shame. He couldn’t…he didn’t… Pressing his lips together, TJ tried to force himself to stay quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but his current cycle of humiliation and self-contempt was forcing sobs against the back of his throat. Seconds or minutes or hours later, he was finally empty. Shaking, TJ stood up straight and wiped his hands against the remaining dry material on the back of his jeans. He sniffled and dragged the back of his hand under his nose, but made no move to return inside. Chest heaving, TJ tried to string together a plan. He still had to clean up inside, but if he did that quickly, then drove right home, he could still make it before his dad got there, and- “Hey!” TJ’s heart stopped. No no no… “I wanted to see if y-“ TJ was facing away, so he didn’t yet see Robbie’s face, but it was pretty obvious what had happened. The sobs he’d been holding back seemed to intensify, ripping at his voice box. “Hey,” Robbie repeated, his voice impossibly gentle, “Are you…can I…” TJ desperately wanted to respond, to somehow assure Robbie that it was fine and that he’d just finish cleaning and be on his way, but he couldn’t open his mouth without crying. Instead, he tried to breathe deeply, calming himself enough to do literally anything other than just stand there silently in piss-soaked jeans. Still out of TJ’s line of vision, Robbie inhaled audibly. “I’ll leave if you want me to, man, but can you just tell me if you need help? Like, do you need me to get anyone? Call anyone?” Grateful for the yes-or-no question, TJ shook his head. Robbie’s gentle, non-judgmental offer was calming, and TJ was able to breathe more easily. After another few silent seconds, he was able to speak. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and scratchy. “The closet is finished, so I’ll just clean up inside, and then we’ll be back tomorrow to-“ “Are you kidding me?!” Robbie sounded so affronted that TJ finally looked up. Sure enough, Robbie looked utterly baffled by what TJ though was a pretty simple statement. “You…” Robbie was all but sputtering, and TJ couldn’t figure out what had him so worked up. “You don’t have to do anything else! Just…why would you think you have to keep working??” TJ frowned slightly. “I haven’t cleaned up yet. I haven’t finished. I have to finish the job for today.” Robbie glanced down at TJ’s dark, sopping jeans, and TJ felt his entire face heat up. “TJ, it’s…it’s fine, man,” Robbie insisted. “You’re coming back tomorrow, just leave it.” TJ shook his head and looked down again. “My dad…” He stopped, not wanting to make it sound like his dad was overly demanding. He wasn’t, it was just… “I have a job to do.” TJ glanced back up to see some of the indignity melt off of Robbie’s face. “You do you, man,” Robbie said, sounding a bit sad. “I know you and your dad do great work, and I don’t want to make it seem like I’m telling you how to do your job. But seriously –“ Robbie stared at TJ earnestly, and TJ had to look away, still intensely aware that he was standing in a puddle of his own urine. “- the bathroom is just off to the right through the back sliding door. I’m sorry no one told you where it was before.” TJ was already shaking his head before Robbie finished, leaving the other teen bewildered. “Oh, no,” TJ murmured. “We don’t use client bathrooms. We don’t enter any space unless we’re working in it.” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he was explaining the First Amendment to someone who had never heard of the United States. Robbie’s eyes darkened, and TJ nearly recoiled from this unexpected show of emotion. Robbie was so chill, so relaxed – what had TJ done wrong? “What kind of classist, regressive, The Help bullshit is that?” Robbie spat. “Did you…did someone tell you that? Like, is it literally a rule around here?” “We…” Now TJ really felt awful. He’d wet his pants like a child, he still hadn’t finished his tasks for today, and now, he’d somehow made the coolest, most attractive boy in the whole school mad at him. “We just…my dad always said that we don’t want to track in dirt or dust or anything. We want to respect the clients’ homes. It’s…we don’t want to…” TJ’s face flamed again as he trailed off and stared back at the ground. The rest of the rule was “We don’t want to make any unnecessary mess,” but TJ had clearly broken that statute. Robbie sighed, his feature softening again. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to yell.” TJ glanced up and found Robbie looking at him sincerely. “You and your dad can work however you want,” Robbie swore, “but I…I promise, my family and I, we don’t care about dirt or shit like that. And definitely not over…over your well-being.” TJ averted his eyes, blinking rapidly. “I…” Robbie’s voice was softer than ever. “I just wanted you to know that.” Eyes shining, TJ dared to lift his gaze, but didn’t say anything. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” TJ shook his head and managed a weak smile. “Like I said, I’ll just clean up inside. We’ll be back tomorrow to work on the walkway and patio.” Robbie smiled, gently, encouragingly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He inhaled, as if he was going to say something else, but then just ducked his head and turned away. TJ let out a long breath. His mind was already moving ahead to the clean-up job, the drive home, and the long shower he was going to take. But somehow, the horror of the afternoon wasn’t quite as suffocating as it had been ten minutes ago. He whispered, even though Robbie had already walked away. “See you tomorrow.”
  2. Author’s note: This story is meant to be like Zootopia 2 Many years has passed and the city of Zootopia is become a city with a rising impact of crime, just like Gotham City and it’s worsening everyday. The ZPD have been recruiting new policemen or policewoman to aid in this increasing cause and in this conflict Judy Hopps and partner Nick Wilde have fallen in love with each other and now Nick is her boyfriend. In aiding with the problem she almost got shot by one of the gangsters Nick and her were trying to find, but her partner killed the gangster before he could shoot her and this led them to their relationship. The couple have been sleeping in Judy’s appartment, they are having fun sleeping together and they mostly spend time having a sexual intercorse. Sunday, March 17 2019: After a wild night of Judy enjoying having sex with her boyfriend Nick, Judy woke up to find how badly she needed to pee, she got up and raced to the bathroom, where she plonked her sexy ass on the toilet and moaned in her hot relief. She must’ve spent an hour or so because her stream was so big, she must’ve held it in for the whole night, but she was pee shy she doesn’t want others to know about her desperation, before this crime infested city business happened on a mission Judy actually had an accident because she didn’t tell Nick about it. She was done, she wiped herself and flushed the toilet. Judy went to put on her clothes, she placed a pink laced panty on with no bra and her police outfit. Not shortly after that Nick got dressed and they could eat breakfast. They had bacon and eggs with orange juice and Judy kinda went overboard with it and she probably would regret doing that, they grabbed their phones that were charging in the kitchen and the keys and went in the car. Judy then started it and on course for the ZPD HQ, they always enjoyed living together and their missions because they are together and Nick is thinking about the proper time for him to propose to her, he really connects with her than any other girl he’s seen. By that time the driver felt that she needed to pee and decided to hold it in until they get to the warehouse where this gang is and come to the police station to find the coordinates or whereabouts they are located in Zootopia. To Be Continued...
  3. Hi guys! I’m back with another desperation and wetting story. This one happened quite recently about a week or so ago, so let’s jump into it! First of all I would like to apologize for my lack of content over the past few months, I’m a university student now and this period is really hectic with lots of things to do, my schedule is filled everyday and I have no time for omorashi. However the things I need to do are getting lesser day by day so hopefully I can find myself more time to indulge in omo and share my experiences with you guys. This happened a week ago. My schedule was really packed that day with lectures in the morning and afternoon. I woke up in the morning with a relatively full bladder; my roommate was done using the bathroom and I went in to relieve myself of a whole night’s worth of pee. After that I got dressed with black panties and black leggings, as well as a skirt on top of that all. I put on a bra and a matching shirt and proceeded to pack the stuff I need to get through the day. I packed my large bottle as well so I could get through the day while staying hydrated. Short description paragraph for those of you that may have forgotten my image: I’m 19 years of age, standing in at a petite height of 5’2 and weighing about 100 pounds (I really need to eat more). My bladder size is smaller than average so I fill up faster than most people. Blessing in disguise I guess? Back to the story. I had lessons all the way until 12pm, followed by a short lunch break of 30 minutes and another 2 and a half hour lecture. For unknown reasons I was really thirsty that morning and finished my whole bottle of water even before lunch break, which is about 50 oz. I got through the morning without much needing to pee despite that. By the time it was lunch break my need was only at a 3/10, nothing significant enough to worry about. The queue to get food was longer than usual, meaning I had no spare time to rest, let alone visit the bathroom and pee. I finished my food and drink in 10 minutes, then I refilled my 50 oz bottle in the cafe for the afternoon. It was already 5 minutes before the start of the lecture and I certainly did not want to be late. My friend bought me starbucks which I happily accepted, and went in the lecture hall. My need at that point was only a 3.5 or 4 out of 10 so peeing was not on my mind. In hindsight I had a lot of liquids in my system already. There was 50 oz from my bottle, around 10 more from the drinks I had during lunch, and 16 more in the starbucks. Although I did not feel it yet, they were certainly going to make themselves known by me. My small bladder is about to get punished harshly 🙂 About an hour into the lecture I was starting to get bored, when my needs got more prominent. The need to pee at that point was at a 5 and I was starting to notice the effects of so much liquids that I consumed prior to that. I thought it was no big deal at that point as I could definitely hold it through the whole 2 hours, I have been in a similar situation of feeling the need to pee just after the lesson started. I put no thought to it and continued listening to the professor. An hour and a half into it and I was really starting to feel the effect of my bladder. My need has increased to a solid 6 and I was seriously doubting if I could make it out of the lecture comfortably. At this point I was being very optimistic to make it to the bathroom after the lecture with dry panties. I was certainly not planning on doing a hold that day but I got careless and ended up like this. I think my bladder was out of shape from a few months of not holding, so with the lack of practice naturally it can’t hold that much. I was starting to get fidgety in my seat from the need so I crossed my right leg over my left and pressed my thighs together in an attempt to subdue the urge. With half an hour to go my need has increased substantially to a 7.5, occasionally spiking to an 8. I was getting very fidgety and squirmy in my seat as I try to hold back the fluids in me from leaking out. My movements that point to hold it in was more frequent, squirming back and forth in my seat, crossing and uncrossing legs, bouncing knees and trying to grab my pee hole from my butt so it’s not that obvious. My friend sitting next to me who knows about my fetish noticed and asked me “Hey Kayla what’s wrong? You look like you are shaking all over” “Oh nothing’s wrong I’m just.. I’m just a little cold” I stuttered a reply while trying not to give away my need of the bathroom. “Do you need to pee?” She asked, having seen my tell-tale signs of desperation too often. I told her maybe just a little quietly and she gave me a naughty look, asking me to hold on. The lecture was finally over, but my need has further increased to a 9/10. After hearing that we are dismissed I was overjoyed that I can make a mad dash to the bathroom in my room; relief was near and I can avoid an embarrassing accident. I stood up after packing my stuff into my bag, which caused my bladder to contract. That movement released some pee into my panties, which I instinctively crossed my legs tightly and jammed a hand into my crotch to hold it in for a little longer, simultaneously dropping back into the seat to remain discreet. My friend gave me a weird look as she wished me good luck holding it back to my room. I began the walk back to my room where the bathroom was(my room had a bathroom which I shared with my roommate), peeing was my top priority now as I wanted to avoid an embarrassing accident. Fortunately for me my room was quite close to the lecture hall. I walked towards it with a full bladder while pausing occasionally to cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together, to avoid losing control. I made it to the room without leaks except that first one which made my panties damp, and was surprised to see the door unlocked. My roommate was in the room for some reason unknown to me at that point, my need has increased to a straight 10 as relief was so near. I threw my stuff on the floor and dashed to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. I was horrified as I found myself locked out of relief. With legs crossed, a hand in crotch and bent over from desperation, I called out “Hey Daniella are you in there” while frantically trying to push the door open. My roommate told me she’s having a stomachache. “Please Daniella could you hurry up I’m literally about to piss myself here” I replied while pee dancing on the spot. My bladder opened up again as another leak came, this time bigger than the previous. I stuffed both hands into my crotch, grabbing my pee hole to stop the flow, but the wet spot was bigger. Lifting up my skirt to examine it I found the wet spot to be as big as a tennis ball on my leggings between my legs. After that my roommate told me to look for another bathroom if I was that desperate as she was going to need a while. With no choice I went on to look for another bathroom to pee. My bladder was absolutely screaming for me to empty her now, and leaked again. I felt my fingers in my crotch dampen as I squeezed my muscles back harder. I really could not hold it anymore and had to pee as soon as possible. I had to walk in such a way that there was constant pressure on my pee hole, so my need could be reduced ever so slightly. The downside is that I had to walk slower, and it looked like a waddle which would be embarrassing when people saw me. Finally I got to the next bathroom on campus, but was horrified to see a long line of about 10 girls! I was certain I could not hold that long so I had to look for another bathroom on level 2. As I was climbing the stairs I leaked again, and again, and again despite that hand on my pee hole. I leaked so much that the wet spot extended way past my butt and was starting to show up on the front, lucky for me I had the skirt to cover up a portion of it. I finally got to the bathroom but there were still 3 girls in line! Having no choice I joined the queue while pee dancing on the spot, with tightly crossed legs and bouncing around. The next leak told me I could not hold it anymore. All of my pride thrown aside, I walked up to the girl next in line, with a hand in my crotch I said “Please sorry I’m about to piss myself I can’t hold it anymore may I please please go in front of you” while turning bright red. She stared at me awkwardly but eventually agreed. My need increased tenfold, with relief being so near, but finally it happened. I heard a flushing sound and that was my bladder’s cue for relief. No matter what I did, the pee contained inside came gushing out. It was not a leak, not a dribble, but a total loss of control. I was peeing myself, standing next in line, the piss inside me came out full force with a hissing sound. It streamed down my leggings front and back, soaking my shoes and pooling around my legs. The girl in the bathroom came out, along with the 3 girls behind me in the queue, and watched me while I wet myself. I was humiliated but the relief felt amazing. After that I apologized profusely and went back to my room to have a shower and a change of pants and got along with my day. My roommate Daniella stared at my glistening wet pants and was quite compassionate about it, she helped me wash up. My friend saw a change of pants and assumed something too 😉 So that was my story! In the future I will have more time so hopefully I can spend more time doing holds. Stay tuned! Kayla
  4. Jailor Eckman

    female Page 19

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    Hey guys! I was super busy this week, so I haven't really been on much. The good news is that I got this page done and the pencils for the next one!
  5. I am not a native speaker, but i still hope the story is worth reading. I don't know if part I made it into that forum, so these are part 2-4. If part 1 appeared somewhere in the forum , a friendly and helpful admin may put these threads together? - Thanks! Part 2 A few month after that small accident at the gym and a few weeks after her last exams, Laura was looking forward to meet with her friends. This evening she wanted to meet her good friends Miriam and Johnny, to watch a film in the city's cinema. Miriam and Anna were a bit nerdy when it comes to films and movies. They both were big Tolkien fans and so they wanted to see the film The Hobbit. Its been a while and “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” premiered just a few days before. So the girls were really exited. And Johnny...? Well Johnny never cared about anything too much. Not even about the fact, that his name wasn't Johnny after all, but he didn't liked the name Ephraim and so he called himself Johnny. He was a guy with a real rebel attitude. He was a bit small but sturdy guy. He had radically short hair and a really rakish stile. He had that kind of dark jewish humor and a really big mouth. Anna knew him since they both were small, even since then he was always up for some trouble. When Anna had asked him, he just nodded and said “' Got nothing else to do..! I will come with you” Before they wanted to meet each other at Miriam' s home, Anna was working out at the gym. She arrived a bit too late and all sweaty in her sport outfit. When Miriam opened the door she wrinkled her nose and moaned, “Uhh Anna! Are your serious? You will not go to the cinema in your sweaty sport pants, will you?!” “Shut up Miriam! I will hit your shower and got some spare clothes with me. Is Johnny here already?”, Anna replied angrily. “Johnny? On Time? - Like he would care.” Miriam rolled her eyes. So Anna head for the shower and took off her sweaty stuff. Anna enjoyed along warm shower. When she finished the shower, she dried herself off, did some quick make up and grabbed a fresh, black sports bra and pulled on a pair of tight pink boy-shorts, that perfectly fit her nice ass. Just wearing her underwear and a drying her hair with a towel,when she went back into the living room. “Miriam? When do you want to leave?” , she called for her friend. “ Hey, never expected you to wear pink panties! It fits you well, Anna!”, said a rough manly voice. “WHAT THE!?”, Anna shrieked in shock and tried to cover her body with the towel, “JOHNNY! LOOK AWAY- YOU JERK!” But Johnny, who was sitting on the couch, just smiled and said; “Why should I? The view is quiet delightful!” “Look Away or I will beat you up, Johnny!”, Anna growled and picked up her tight jeans. She quickly pulled up the light blue, skintight jeans. She really had too pull strongly and jumped up and down, hardly getting the tight jeans over her butt. Johnny was just sitting on the couch and watched her it with a kinky smile. “ Nice Ass, Anna! Never noticed that!” “ And I never noticed, that you're such a dick!”, Anna replied and tried to stay angry. But she felt some kind of flattered. She always liked Johnny and it wasn't a bad feeling to earn some aroused views. And for some reason, she was a bit turned on by that stupid guy. So she quickly started to giggle and posed a bit for him, shaking her ass and giving herself a light slap on the cheek. She slowly slipped into a black t-shirt, squeezed her little tits and giggled. Her skinny jeans were so tight, that even a sexy pantyline was showing. “By the way... where is Miriam?” Anna asked; “Is she gone already?” “Näh! She's in her room.. Doing make up and something like that..” Johnny smiled, “Guess it will take a while, you know her.” And it really took ages... When Miriam was finally ready, they were already running late. So they jumped into the car and Johnny rushed to the cinema. “Hurry up! We need the tickets! They will sell our preordered ones, when we're too late.” Miriam hurried. “You were the one taking soo long!”, Anna grumbled ; “And I need a toilet first” “We got no time for that, or do you wanna miss the film, cause of your tiny bladder?” Miriam answered in an annoyed mood and Anna didn't want to start a fight. So they quickly bought her tickets, some soft drinks and snacks and went into the hall. It was really full and they had luck to find a the last three seats in the middle. Anna and Miriam were really exited, they really where huge fans. During the first one and a half hour, Anna nearly forgot her urge to pee. But when the last half hour went on, she really had to go. She crossed her legs and pressed her knees together. After a few minutes the urge was getting stronger and her nice butt was rocking back and forth in the seat. After another few minutes she couldn't even sit still anymore. “Oi, Anna..” Johnny bent over to her and whispered in a concerned voice; “Is everything okay?” “No... I... I really have to pee”, she answered silently and her face turned slightly red; “ I mean... I' am really bursting..” “Are you kidding? So go to the toilet, Silly.” Johnny shook his head in disbelief. “No Way! I don't wanna miss the final scene. I mean... It's the Hobbit, right? I will go after the film.. I can hold it that long”, Anna replied. Johnny just smiled and watched her, while she was rocking back and forth in her seat and obviously hold her hand on her crotch. When the film was finally over, Anna hurried to the girls toilet. She expected a line, but just found a large red sign “OUT OF ORDER” “Whats wrong, Anna? Need a pee?”, giggled Miriam gleeful; “Strong Anna with a weak bladder?” “Shut up, Miriam... I'm nearly bursting right now!” Anna replied in desperation, “Can we hurry, Please!?” “Hrm? Oh Sorry.. I am going to meet Michael outside.. But may Johnny can bring you home?”, Said Miriam and left them, to meet her stupid boyfriend. “what a bitch...”, thought Anna. “Sure.. let's hurry, Anna..” Johnny looked at her pitying, “ Can you make it?” “I.. hope so!” Anna didn't seem too confident about it, but they hurried towards the car. But after they left the cinema, crossed the main road and entered a side street, every step became a torture for Anna. Out of a sudden, she felt a few hot drops of urine trickled into her panties. She just stopped and her eyes opened in shock, when she felt the growing warm wetness inside her panties. “Urgs Sh..it!”, she gasped, her face turned red and tears filled her eyes; “Johnny..! Wait ..!” Johnny turned around and watched her with a mixture of concern and arousal, “Anna? Everything all right? “ “No its not! I... I... “ her voice was shaking; “I.. can't hold it any longer!” He looked down at her crotch. Anna couldn't hold it back any more and a huge spurt escaped into her panties, soaking them and forming an embarrassing wet patch on her light blue tight jeans. “Ohh...Noo!”, she cried out, when her bladder finally gave up. Within seconds, the dark wet patch was growing on her crotch and expanding towards her legs and up to her nice ass. For a few seconds, a real river was running down her slim legs and forming a puddle between her sneakers. “Well... that... was.. really hot.” Johnny seemed a bit confused, while he watched her in disbelief. “Hot..? I.. I just wet myself!” Anna replied and started to cry. But then Johnny grabbed her by her hips and pulled her towards him, giving her an hot kiss right on her tasty lips. She has known him for years! In the hole time, they were just best friends.. and without a warning, he just kissed her. He kissed her and it felt soo good and simply right. She felt is rough hands on her wet ass, squeezing her tightly. She laid her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. For a few seconds, she felt only his strong hands on her but and his lips on her own lips. But then he released her from his hold. “ I should bring you home... or you`ll catch a cold.” he said with a lovely smile. “y..Yeah .. Your right, I guess..” Anna nodded. At the car, Johnny laid a plastic bag over Anna's seat and brought her home safely. Anna turned towards him, bent over and kissed him again and said, “You know... You can come upstairs into my room, if you like.. And stay overnight. “ Part 3 A few weeks later Johnny became her first real boyfriend. A he was quiet good one, much better than anyone would have expected. Caring, gently and protecting. He always made her laugh, when she was upset and never failed to make her feel good. So even after a few weeks she nearly moved into his flat. Most days of the week, she spend with him. She generously ignored the chaos, the football banners and even developed some sympathies with his old school punk music. Johnny was sitting on his bed, a laptop on his belly, hammering something into the keyboard, when she arrived after a hard workout at the gym. She wore some green workout tights and an old, worn gray hoodie on her chest. Her hair and her body where all sweaty when she arrived. Johnny looked up and smiled,“Hey Honey! Why do you never shower at the gym?” “Tzz! I do... Sometimes! But I jogged the whole way back..!”, she replied pertly, “And guys like you shouldn't talk about smell, you know?”Then she smiled and walked towards the bed, bending over it and giving him kiss. “What you're doing there anyhow? Beating up your Laptop?” “No, I am writing an essay for the universities qualification...”, he replied and tried to concentrate on his work, “I really need to get this done..” “Ohh soo you won't need no distraction, right?” she smiled naughty and took of her hoodie; “'cause you had to do something, right..?” She bent over again and squeezed her nice small tits in her tight black sports bra, moaning a bit. He looked up and bit his lip, watching her move her body, glittering with sweat. “I really need to get this done, Honey...” he grumbled, but couldn't get his eyes of her. She smiled wickedly and said “Ohh I dropped something!” Then she bend over and stick out her nice little butt, the visible pantyline reveled that she was wearing some cheeksters underneath her tight green sportpants. Then she went back to the bed, bend over it and said, “Do you want something of these..?”, while she gave her left cheek a slight slap. “Uhh..Yes.. I really want to..” said Johnny now totally distracted. “ Too bad you won't get it!” Anna said and jumped back from the bed, “Got Ya!” While Johnny grumbled and shook his head in disbelief, she just went out of the room, but not without moving her hips as sexy she could. After that she head for the bathroom. She drank a lot during her workout and really needed to go, besides a shower was necessary. When she took the doorknob to enter the bathroom, she felt a strong hand grabbing her hips and pushing her towards the wall.” I thought you got something to do?”, she said with an wicked smile,” And I told you, that you wont get nothing” “I Know... And that's really bad! You're such a villain. Using your powers for the evil..”, he replied with an evil grin. “So what?”, she smiled superior. But than he pushed his thumbs into her hips, in a circular motion he moved them downwards, slightly rubbing her bladder. “Uhh Don't!”, she gasped in a mixture of desperation and pleasure:” I.. really need to go...” “ I know.. but villains like you, need to be punished, right?” he smiled and just went on rubbing his thumbs against her bladder. She tried to push him off, but the felt so powerless. That pleasure was overwhelming. She didn't wanted to piss herself and tried to prevent it, but then the first spurt of warm urine went into her panties. She bit her lip and moaned loudly. Then another, bigger spurt soaked her panties completely and formed a small dark patch on her crotch. “looks like the evil villain couldn't hold herself anymore, hmm?”he said amused. Then a full stream was running down her tights, soaking them completely. The piss was dripping on her running shoes, the floor and his bare feed. He grabbed her by her hips, lift her up and carried her into the bathroom. With a heavy breathing he watched her last spurts running down her soaked green sport tights. He grabbed her shoulder and bend her over the edge of the bathtub. After pulling down her wet tights and soaked black cheekers, he pushed himself inside her. She moaned in full pleasure, when he done her from behind. It was a quick but intense one. They both came contemporaneous. When he was done, he took a towel to clean himself up, while Anna dropped to the floor totally exhausted. He just smiled, went to one knee and gave her a quick kiss before he left her on the floor. She never felt that kind of exhaustion after her workouts... And she really needed a shower right now... Part 4 Johnny looked into the mirror and shook his head in disbelief. “This is a joke, right?” he lifted his eyebrow and looked suspiciously towards Anna; “You're not serious, are you?” He looked back into the mirror. He was wearing a white linen cloth shirt and a old fashioned dark red vest, some matching Knickerbocker-like pants. His shoes looked like giant feed with some brown fur on top of it. “So... I am a Hobbit?” he was shocked by his own look, “You made me go to a fucking nerdy comic convention... Dressed like a hobbit?” “You agreed to come with me!” she explained with an large grin on her face, “ And I told you, that we would dress up.. So take this wig. There are no bald Hobbits in the shire.” “there are no tattooed ones ether, are they?” He lifted his right arm, where a big tattoo was showing, the emblem of the football club Ajax Amsterdam; “So I will be the first skinhead-Hobbit in fucking Mordor.” “They live in the Shire...! No Hobbit would live in Mordor.. that's where Sauron is..!” She explained to him, like it was a totally normal and serious matter of fact. “Well.. But why do I have to look like an 19th century Irish drunkard with hairy feed and your costume is like.. A sexy archer?” Johnny complained heavily. “ I`m a Ranger of Gondor! Not an archer..” she corrected him. Anyhow it was a real sexy outfit. She wore a light brown leather chest armor, a long green cloak with a hood, some nice brown high boots and a really hot, skinny brown leather pants. On her back, she had a quiver and a bow, a dagger on her belt. Untypically Anna's blonde long hair was falling openly on her shoulder. It was a big difference between her normal sporty stile of clothing. But with a fine and well trained body like hers, she looked good just gorgeous. “Why do you have a weapon and I only got... Shitty fur on my feed? May I have a Baseball bat?” he liked the look of her costume, but really hated the idea to go to a Nerd convention. He was a football fan, interested in football, punk music, beer and stuff like that. Being a Hobbit, wasn't his biggest dream after all. “Of course not! Hobbits don't do that..” she rolled her eyes and bent over to tie up her boots. Johnny shove away her cloak, to give her a little smack on her ass. The clapping sound was just hilarious. “IEKS!” Anna shrieked, “Hobbits don't do that neither!” Johnny laughed at her protest and turned around into his room, a few moments later he came back with a Shillelagh in his hands. “What the...?” Anna lifted her eye-brow. “When I have to walk around like a Irish drunkard, I will be armed like one.” he explained and laid his hand on her butt cheek again, squeezing her tightly. “ Damn.. that's such a fine ass, my sweet Archer-Girl” “I am a Ranger.... of.. Gon...!”, she wanted to protest, but he just passed her and head out of the flat. It was a nearly 3 Hour ride till they arrived at the Convention. An old sports hall, full of nerdy people and things. It was like some kind of limbo for Johnny. Long skinny guys dressed up like Elfs with plastic elfish ears, nearly half of the other guys where dressed like Frodo or Gandalf. And a few beer benches and old tables, that supposed to be “the prancing Pony”. Johnny had no idea what this was all about. For him this film wasn't even a good one and he never read the book anyhow. He loved those old Scorsese films, like Mean Streets, Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. He really felt a bit out of place. But there were too things that kept him there. At first there was, his smoking hot girlfriend in her sexy archer costume... Or Gardian.. or Ranger or what ever. He couldn't even kept his eyes away from that sexy ass or her nice little tits for more than three minutes. For that girl, he would go through this hell. The second thing was his discovery, that it was possible to smoke weed with his nerdy Hobbit-Pipe. After two Pipes and nearly endless seeming five hours in that smelly sports hall, Johnny nearly beat up a plus sized Legolas for reproving him, that a pot smoking bald Hobbit was just implausible. Anna really enjoyed herself. She brought herself some stuff, participate at a tombola, listened to the live music and drank at least three bottles of some “Hobbit Brew”. It was just some Heineken Beer with a cheap label stick on the bottle, but still tasty. To be honest, it was just a small event and didn't seemed to be very professional, but still she enjoyed herself. But after five hours and three bottles, Anna was getting tired. So they left the convention and drove home. “Are youuu... Shure you can stilll drive, Johnny?” asked Anna tipsy; “ Aand you're a reaallly cute Hobbit! You Know?!” “I am pretty sure, that I can drive...” Johnny answered; “But I don't think we should ask the police about it.” Johnny wasn't numb anyhow. It's been a while since he smoked his last pipe and the high was gone for hours. While they drove home, Anna felt a sleep three times. Johnny was a bit irritated, how could a girl like Anna, be tough and sporty on the one hand, but geeky and nerdy on the other. And the most irritating observation was, that Anna could nearly lift her own weight but three beers knocked her out cold. After two and a half hours ride, Anna woke up again and started to slip from one side of her seat to the other side, biting her lip. She was rubbing her knees together, so her leather pants were squeaking a bit. “ Don't tell me that my little elite archer need to pee..?” Johnny looked at her slim legs rubbing against each other and grinned a bit; “Shall I head for the next restroom?” “Näääh! I don't wanna go pee on a highway potty! Were home soon, right?” Anna mumbled; “.. And I am a Ranger...! You hear...? A Ranger.. And Rangers don't pee themselves, you silly Hobbit!” During the last minutes of the ride, Anna turned visibly desperate. She pushed her hand between her legs and couldn't even sit still anymore. Johnny knew, that she was absolutely bursting right know. When they finally arrived at home, Anna jumped out of the car, leaving her cloak, quiver and bow at the car. She rushed to the door and jumped from one food to another. Johnny watched her hopping up and down, next to the door. He couldn't look away from her tits jumping up and down under her light leather chest. He just stood there and watched her for a few seconds. “Johnny! Please hurry! I am about to leak!” she plead; “Open up the door quickly!” She felt a painful urge and bend over. While she bend over, Johnny could guess a slight pantyline through her pants and couldn't help to watch her Pee Pee dance. While she tried her best to keep her pants dry, the Hobbit Brew wanted to get out of her. She pressed her both hands on the crotch of her leather pants and hopped up and down again. But she couldn't help it. A small spurt escaped and she could feel the hot pee dampening her panties. She bit her lips and tried so hard to stop the flow, but there was no chance. Another larger spurt followed the first one and then the hole dam broke. She felt the pee filling up her pants. The wetness quickly spread over her ass and up to her waist. “Uaarghs...!” she huffed. “ Shit! I..I am peeing myself!” While Johnny, the horny Hobbit, couldn't help to watch her doing so. A small trickle went down her pants seam and tripled to the ground. But the warm wet pee was running down her slim and sexy legs inside of her pants and quickly filled her boots. After a few moments the wetness pressed itself through the thin leather and formed a dark patch on her ass and crotch. There she was, standing next to the door and totally wetting her Rangers armor. She felt his hand on her hip, moving down towards her wet and warm ass. She felt his fingers rubbing over the leather, grabbing her firm cheeks underneath. His hand moved up to her waist again and slipped into her pants. Her panties were totally soaked. She turned towards Johnny and whispered dejectedly and still a bit tipsy: “ I... brought up shame to the Rangers of Gondor..” “Well...” Johnny shook his head, “ I guess it happened to a lot of them during that one battle, when the orcs beat them up?” He tried to lift her up with a warm smile. “You mean the battle for Osgiliath?” she also smiled, while he opened the door. “ Yeah.. Sure.. May a caring Hobbit gave that poor Ranger some shelter after her.. embressing Accident?” He smiled suggestively and gave her a loving kiss. “And... how did the ashamed ranger awarded her fur-footed Hero?” She answered aroused. “ Maybe... Some hot Human-Hobbit Sex?” He grinned naughty “ Well.... but you have to leave these furry feed on!” she laughed loudly. …
  6. Sammy Iiliev Lawson can't make it to the bathroom in time and pisses in his tight jean shorts.mp4
  7. Jailor Eckman

    female Request 013

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    What better way for three roommates to spend their first night in their new apartment than by having a good, old-fashioned holding contest? $100 for whoever holds it the longest! Of course after insisting that she'd wipe the floor with them, Shelley was made to drink an extra bottle... or two. She figured she was a bit heavier than her friends, so surely she'd have a bigger bladder... right? Well, now that it feels like a boiling watermelon is teetering on the other side of her pee-hole, she's not so sure. Too bad her friends won't just shut up and let her think about anything else! This is the request I did for @Lapiiss!
  8. Thorn177

    female Girl's School

    Summary: When fourteen-year-old Agnes is caught making out with a boy, her religious parents ship her off to Mary Magdalen's Home for Girls, a corrective institution for ungodly young women. Agnes isn't too worried, but as it turns out, this is nothing like Bible Camp. Their aim is to drive out the devil, and they will do so by any means necessary. So, this is an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and I just never knew quite how to write it. The idea started when I read an article about special religious 'schools' in the US where unruly girls were sent to be taught to be good Christians, basically, and where methods ranged from the mundane to the outright sadistic. Please read the tags. This will not be a nice, fluffy or cute story. I'll add extra content warnings to future chapters if necessary. Please consider yourself warned. ————— CHAPTER ONE Agnes stared out of the bus window, at the country side swishing past. It was about four in the afternoon, and the day was sunny and hot. She yawned and scratched her cheek, where she had a mosquito bite. She was fourteen years old. Her dark brown hair fell in ringlets around her summer freckled face and she wore a brown skirt and blue blouse. On the seat next to her stood a small suitcase. It contained mostly underwear, a few other clothing items and a Bible. Her parents had been told that everything else would be provided. The representative from Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls had arrived at their church only a week before. She had brought three young girls, a bit older than Agnes, in neat white gowns, who had testified about how they had been led so astray by the Devil and how Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls had helped them find their way back to the Lord. This had been a couple of days before Agnes was caught making out with a boy from school, and her parents had decided that something had to be done about their daughter’s wicked ways. And so they had called Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls, and asked if they had an opening. It turned out they did. The bus slowed to a halt. An older woman in the front, who had introduced herself as Miss Corrine when Agnes and about a dozen other girls had filed into the bus that morning, stood up. ‘All right, get your bags, we’re here,’ she said. Agnes picked up her small suitcase and shuffled out of the bus together with the other girls. As she stepped off the bus, she saw that they were in the middle of nowhere. ‘We’ll continue on foot,’ said Miss Corrine. ‘The path is too narrow for the bus.’ She set off down a narrow dirt road at a quick pace. The girls hurried to keep up. Agnes looked around. Flat grass land surrounded them as far as the eye could see, with a few trees sticking up here and there. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. They walked for what must have been at least twenty minutes and the heat was stifling, but then they rounded a corner and the large compound appeared. The girls who had spoken at their church had made it sound like a farm or a ranch, but Agnes couldn’t see any animals. The place seemed barren and dry, and it was surrounded by a chain link fence. It looked more like a prison. Which Agnes supposed it was. Her parents had sent her off, without her consent, to a correctional facility where she would learn to be a good Christian. Her crime had been kissing a boy, wearing tight jeans and not paying attention in Bible Study group. Which apparently meant she was promiscuous and ungodly. Agnes had been a good little girl, growing up. Whether out of fear for her father’s belt, her mother’s words, or simply because she was so sheltered, she had hardly ever done anything wrong. She had seen her older brother beaten for talking back, and that was enough to dissuade her from breaking any rules. But entering her teens, Agnes had become more strong willed. She had doubted the religion her parents had pushed upon her since birth, she had wanted to do her own thing, but a small town in Kansas wasn’t a good place to be a rebel. There was always someone watching, and word got back to her parents for every little thing she did. Miss Corrine led them into an entrance area. A man in a crisp light brown suit stood there waiting for them. ‘Welcome!’ he said warmly and beamed at them all. ‘My nam is Mr. Portman. I am the owner and leader of this establishment, and I’m so pleased to see so many new faces!’ He went on for a couple of minutes, about how their time at Mary Magdalene would help them build character and become better people, how the light of God would save them from the Devil’s influence and make model citizens of them, good mothers and wives, and most importantly, good Christians. Agnes glanced around as he spoke. The walls of the room were white, and the floor was grey linoleum. There was a reception desk at one end, but no chairs or sofas by way of a waiting area. The only art work was a large painting of Jesus on the wall behind Mr. Portman. When Mr. Portman had finished speaking, Miss Corrine opened a door off to one side. A dozen girls walked into the room, in a neat line. Like the girls who had come to their church, these girls wore white dresses. They all had their hands clasped in front of them. They lined up opposite Agnes and the other new girls. ‘These are your Big Sisters,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘We have a buddy system here. You will each be assigned a Big Sister who will teach you our rules, show you around and help you find your feet. I will call your names, and the names of your Big Sisters. When you have paired up, your Big Sister will take you to your sleeping quarters and give you a uniform to wear. They will then accompany you to supper, before we all gather for evening prayer.’ Agnes stood as patiently as she could while Mr. Portman started reading off the names on his list. Her name was the last to be read. ‘Agnes Williams,’ said Mr. Portman, ‘your Big Sister will be Mary-Louise Miller.’ The girl who stepped up to Agnes was a couple of years older. She was tall and blonde, with sparkling blue eyes and a sweet smile. ‘It’s so nice to meet you, Agnes!’ she said and shook her hand. She spoke in a soft southern accent, her voice a lilting alto. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.’ Mary-Louise brought her to a dormitory down a couple of corridors. There were eight beds in it. One other new girl was being inducted a couple of beds down. ‘I’m in the bed next to yours,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘That way I can keep tabs on you. I’m sure we’ll be best friends!’ She beamed. ‘Here, let me find your uniform.’ She walked up to the small dresser that stood next to the bed. ‘You get two of these,’ she explained, taking out a white dress like her own. ‘We don’t wear any other clothes here, so you won’t be needing anything but your own underwear and night clothes. There’s room in the dresser for that. There’s a bathroom and showers at the end of the hall. Now, get changed.’ Agnes took off her own clothes and put on the white dress. Perhaps this place wasn’t so bad, she thought. Everyone seemed friendly… Maybe she’d be all right. It was only for three months, after all. Mary-Louise took her to supper when she was done changing. On the way she told her about the daily routine at Mary Magdalene’s. ‘We get up at six every day for morning prayers, before breakfast at seven thirty,’ she said. ‘After breakfast we have Bible Study classes, quiet meditation, things like that, all day, until about five pm. Lunch is at one, and supper is at seven in the evening. We have free time between five and seven. Then we have evening prayer at eight, which is one hour, and the showers are open between nine and ten. Lights out at ten pm.’ ‘Sounds very strict,’ said Agnes. ‘It is,’ said Mary-Louise, ‘but we’re better people for it. Routines are key.’ The mess was a large, white room with several long tables. Agnes was at once struck by how quiet it was. The tables were almost full, but the few who were speaking were doing so in hushed murmurs and whispers. Mary-Louise led her to one of the tables and they sat down. A few minutes later, Mr. Portman, Miss Corrine and a few other staff members came marching into the room. The room fell completely silent. They sat down at a smaller, empty table at the far end. Mr. Portman was last to sit, and before he did, he gave a curt nod to the table closest. As one, the girls at that table stood up, in silence, and marched over to the counter. They each took a tray, and were handed plates of food by serving staff. One table at a time, the girls went to collect their food. Soon it was Agnes’s turn. It was eerie. The only sounds in the room were shuffling feet, the chinking of cutlery and hushed voices from the staff table. The girls all ate in complete silence, it seemed. Approaching the counter, Agnes realised that the serving staff all appeared to be teenaged girls like herself. She wondered fleetingly if they were other students, but was too tired to bother questioning Mary-Louise about it. She was served a vegetable soup with a roll on the side. There were no other choices, and no butter for the roll. She was given water to drink. The soup didn’t taste like much, but Agnes was hungry, so she ate all of it. So, it seemed, did everybody else. There were no second helpings, however. Exhausted after the long journey and the new impressions of the day, Agnes sat through evening prayer in a daze, mimicking the other girls and moving her lips as best she could. Afterwards she had a quick shower and went to bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow. ————— Getting up the next morning was hard. Mary-Louise had to shake her several times before at last Agnes sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. ‘Time’s it?’ she murmured. ‘Already five past six,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘Hurry up and get dressed or we’ll be late for morning prayer!’ Agnes got up and put on her dress. She tied back her dark hair, now messy from sleep. ‘I won’t always be here to wake you up, you know,’ Mary-Louise admonished her as they set off towards the chapel. ‘You’re gonna have to learn to get up on your own.’ ‘Sorry,’ Agnes mumbled. She still didn’t feel properly awake. She longed for coffee or something else to wake her up. She sat through morning prayer trying her best not to doze off, though she appeared to not quite manage, as Mary-Louise had to poke her several times to make her pay attention. After prayer they went down to the mess for breakfast. Agnes ate a couple of spoonfuls of the bland porridge she had been served and then spent the rest of the meal poking at it with her spoon. She drank orange juice (there was no coffee) and tried to stifle her yawns. ‘Aren’t you going to finish your food?’ whispered Mary-Louise after a while. Her plate was empty and she sat with her hands in her lap, looking curiously at her charge. ‘I’m not really hungry,’ replied Agnes, sleepily. ‘I can never eat in the mornings.’ ‘But you have to eat it,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘Those are the rules. Everyone has to empty their plate at every meal. You have no choice.’ ‘But I can’t, I’m not hungry.’ Mary-Louise studied her, frowning. ‘Fine,’ she said, after a moment. Then she got up, and walked over to the staff table. She whispered something to Miss Corrine, who stood up and came back with her. Everyone stopped eating and looked up. Miss Corrine approached Agnes, looking stern. ‘Everyone has to finish their food here, Agnes,’ she said. Agnes was sure everybody could hear her as the room was so quiet. ‘Perhaps we hadn’t made that clear?’ ‘I’m sorry, Miss Corrine,’ said Agnes, trying for a smile, ‘but I just can’t eat if I’m not hungry.’ ‘Do you squander the gifts the good Lord gives you?’ asked Miss Corrine. ‘No, ma’am…’ Agnes frowned, her smile faltering. ‘I mean, I don’t mean to, but you give us big portions, so . . .’ ‘You will finish your food, Agnes, or there will be consequences,’ said Miss Corrine. Mr. Portman stood from the staff table then, and came towards them. ‘What’s all this then?’ he asked calmly. ‘Agnes refuses to eat, sir,’ said Mary-Louise softly. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Mr. Portman turned to Agnes. ‘I would prefer if you eat what’s on your plate.’ ‘But, sir, I’m not hungry!’ Agnes’s voice had gained an edge now. She felt annoyed. Surely it was none of anyone else’s business whether she ate breakfast or not? ‘Then I’m afraid you leave me with no choice,’ said Mr. Portman sadly. ‘Miss Corrine, look after everything here. Agnes, Mary-Louise, come with me, please.’ Agnes’s stomach churned as she stood. What was to happen now? They followed Mr. Portman out of the mess and down the hall towards a door. Upon entering, Agnes discovered the room beyond to be Mr. Portman’s office. It contained a heavy mahogany desk and several bookcases. Mr. Portman sat down behind the desk while the girls remained standing. ‘It pains me to have to do this already on your first day, Agnes,’ said Mr. Portman without looking at them, adjusting a cup full of pens on his desk. ‘But the rules here are strict and meant to be followed. Everything we do here is for your own good, to teach you girls to be good, Christian women. You are sinful by nature. You need guidance. You are here because the Devil has taken up residence in you. I am here because I wish to drive him out.’ There was a silence. Agnes stared down at her tan ballerina flats, saying nothing. ‘Now, as for your punishment.’ Mr. Portman stood, walking over to one of the bookshelves where a jug of water and several glasses stood. ‘Mary-Louise, I delegate to you to make sure that Agnes drinks one glass of water every hour until lunch. You are also to make sure she doesn’t go to the restroom in that time. If she is ready then to show appreciation for the gifts that God has given her and empties her plate, she may visit the restroom after. We’ll start now.’ He filled a glass with water and walked around his desk, handing the glass to Agnes. ‘Drink up.’ Agnes took the glass. Something squirmed in her stomach. She was to go five hours without going to the bathroom while drinking copious amounts of water? It seemed hardly possible. Mr. Portman made an impatient sound, a clearing of the throat and, without looking at him, Agnes lifted the glass to her lips and drained it in a few gulps. Thankfully it wasn’t a very large glass, but she suddenly wished that she hadn’t had all that orange juice. Mr. Portman dismissed them, and the two girls left his office. They walked in silence for a while. Breakfast was over and it was time for the first class of the day. When they exited the main building to walk across the dry grass to one of the smaller ones, Agnes finally spoke. ‘Why did you tell on me like that?’ she asked softly. She felt Mary-Louise glance at her out of the corner of her eye for a moment before answering. ‘Like he said. You’re here because you’ve got the Devil in you. They can’t help you expel him if you don’t follow the rules. I did it for your own good. Besides, they would have noticed sooner or later anyway.’ Agnes rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, I see. You did it for me, not to show what a good girl you are. Your motives were purely altruistic.’ She was unable to keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice. Mary-Louise stopped and turned to her. ‘We’re encouraged to take care of each other here, Agnes.’ Her voice still had the sweet tone of before, but something in her look was cold. ‘We help each other get better. I was like you when I got here. I had demons inside me making me wilful, making me talk back, making me flaunt the rules. The other girls helped me see the error of my ways, helped me shake off the demons and become a better person. I’m not there yet. Us girls, we’re sinful by nature and it’s only by giving ourselves over to the Lord completely that we can rid ourselves of that sin. I’m getting there, and helping you will help me get there. When you do good you are rewarded. When you do bad you’re punished. All we’re doing here is giving a taste in life of the punishments that await the wicked after death.’ She turned away and began to walk again. ‘The Devil loves pleasure and fears pain. It is with pain you drive him out.’ She sounded like a text book. Like she had memorised all these things and was parroting them back the way she’d been taught. This frightened Agnes more than the words themselves. She hadn’t had much choice but to come here like her parents wanted, and she had been resigned to her fate. Spend three months at yet another ‘Bible Camp’, act like a good girl, and then go home. But the certainty with which Mary-Louise spoke, her blind faith in her words and acceptance of the status quo, that was terrifying. It told Agnes that this place changed people, and that if she wasn’t careful it would change her too, and she would lose her sense of self. By ten o’clock, Agnes had lost her ability to sit still. She fidgeted in her seat while Miss Corrine told them the story of Adam and Eve and explained how Eve’s weakness had damned all women and steeped them in sin. How purity and obedience were the only way towards salvation for any girl. Agnes only picked up bits and pieces, her rapidly filling bladder distracting her. An hour later she was bouncing in her seat, rocking back and forth and trying to refrain from putting her hands between her legs and hold herself. Mary-Louise kept obediently getting up, every hour on the hour, to get her a glass of water. Miss Corrine appeared to have been informed, because she said nothing. Either that or this was such a common occurrence that it hardly bore notice. At one the girls returned to the mess for lunch, and by now Agnes was beginning to feel like she couldn’t possibly hold it for much longer. She took tiny steps and had to stop often to cross her legs or bend forward and clutch herself, and she felt the occasional trickle go into her panties. Mary-Louise walked next to her patiently. Agnes couldn’t have told anyone what was for lunch. It was bland and no doubt very healthy, and she wolfed it down at record speed, hoping that if she just finished it all she would be allowed a bathroom break. When Mr. Portman came over to inspect her plate and gave a satisfied smile, she shot to her feet. ‘Can I . . .’ She could hardly get the words out and cleared her throat, dancing slightly on the spot. She decided it would be better to be polite. ‘May I please be excused for the restroom now, sir?’ she asked as sweetly as she could. Mr. Portman’s smile widened. ‘Of course you may.’ Agnes shot out of the mess like a bullet and only just made it to the toilet in time. Peeing had never felt so wonderful as at that moment. She went for at least a minute, voiding her bladder in a hard, steady stream. She had to bite her lip in order not to moan. She was pretty sure moaning was a sin. ————— The afternoon was spent in so called quiet meditation, which essentially meant sitting in the chapel staring at the cross on the wall. It was impossible for Agnes not to let her mind wander. She thought about home, about her bedroom and her CDs. She realised with a jolt that she had never gone this long without listening to music before. Unless one counted the psalms they sung during prayer, which Agnes most certainly did not. If it didn’t have a beat it wasn’t much worth a damn. She wondered how much she’d miss dancing by the end of her stay at Mary Magdalen’s. She wondered if she would even remember her favourite songs, going so long without hearing them. And what about her friends? Agnes sighed deeply at this thought. She missed her friends. Ava, the trivia machine who knew everything. Lily, who was so fashionable and sweet and always helped Agnes with her make-up. Wayne, who hung out with them and who Agnes was pretty sure would turn out to be gay. She would have given just about anything right then to sit in the park with the three of them, sharing a stolen cigarette and laughing about something they’d seen on TV. Would they still like her when she got back? She looked away from the cross on the wall, glancing about the chapel as covertly as she could manage. Everyone else seemed to be doing what they were supposed to. Some had their hands clasped, lips moving in silent prayer. Others had closed their eyes and looked almost blissful. Next to her, Mary-Louise sat with her hands in her lap, a serene smile playing on her lips and her eyes out of focus. Agnes found herself wondering what she was thinking. Agnes was about to return her gaze to the cross, figuring that one person not doing what she was supposed to was bound to stick out like a sore thumb, when she spotted another girl who seemed to have her mind elsewhere as well. A redheaded, freckled girl who might have been a year or two older than Agnes sat picking at her dress, looking deeply bored. As though she could feel Agnes’s eyes on her, she looked up and met her gaze. She smiled and rolled her eyes in commiseration, before, heaving what was obviously a heavy and demonstrative sigh, returning her gaze to her own lap. Agnes was too taken aback to return the smile before it was too late. ————— At five o’clock Mary-Louise finally left Agnes’s side to go hang out with some girls from a different dorm. She asked Agnes to join her, but Agnes had happily refused, longing for some time on her own. She made her way to the common room, which was next to the mess, and sat down in an almost comfortable arm chair. There was a bookshelf in the common room, but it contained only titles like How to Be a Good Girl and Rejecting Satan: A Guide to Spiritual Cleansing, in addition to half a dozen Bibles and several prayer books. There was also an out of tune piano with a sign on it saying that it was not to be played without express permission. So Agnes sat back in her chair and let her mind wander. Somebody pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. Dragged out of her thoughts, Agnes glanced sideways at the newcomer. It was the redhead from earlier. ‘Hey,’ said the girl, smiling. ‘I’m Maddie. What’s your name?’ ‘I’m Agnes,’ said Agnes, sitting up slightly. She took in Maddie’s appearance. She was very pretty, with sparkling green eyes, thin pink lips and a button nose. Her red hair was wavy and shoulder length. ’So, what are you in for, Agnes?’ asked Maddie, leaning back in her chair with her hands behind her head. Agnes looked away, blushing slightly. ‘Kissing a boy. And probably some other things too.’ She glanced at Maddie again and found her smiling. ‘What about you?’ ‘Well, let’s see, where to start . . .’ Maddie counted on her fingers. ‘Having opinions, reading William Blake, disobedience and masturbation. Plus lack of shame for all of the above.’ Agnes laughed nervously. ‘Well, that’s quite a list.’ Maddie shrugged. ‘It all boils down to the same thing, really. Being a girl and not feeling sorry about it.’ Her expression changed to a more serious one. ‘How are you holding up? I gathered that Portman gave you the old water torture. It’s a favourite of his.’ Her eyes seemed to darken at this and her voice took on a bitter edge. ‘Sucks to have to go through that your first day.’ ‘Yeah, well . . .’ Agnes looked away uncomfortably. ‘Been through it lots of times myself,’ Maddie continued. ‘Portman’s punishments just don’t seem to bite, though. I’ve been here for like six months, and I’m still the same ungodly, sinful creature as I was when I got here. At this rate I’ll grow old and die in this hellhole.’ Agnes looked around nervously. She was pretty sure that this was not a conversation they were meant to be having, but no one seemed to be listening to them. That made her feel braver. ‘I miss my friends,’ she said. ‘I just really wanna go home.’ ‘Yeah,’ said Maddie. ‘Me too. But, hey. I don’t know if I’m right, but I kind of feel like you and me get each other. So, you know, maybe we could be friends?’ Agnes smiled. ‘I’d like that.’ ‘Cool. Just don’t tell Big Sister Mary-Louise about it.’ As they talked, Agnes thought that if Maddie could spend six months at Mary Magdalen’s and still be normal, maybe there was hope for her too.
  9. catiejohnson

    Kylee's Disaster

    "Thanks again for stopping in, hope you have a great flight home." Kylee smiled at the bartender, her bright blue eyes twinkling as she took the last sips of her rum and coke. It was a perfect way to cap her trip - she'd been visiting several of her girlfriends from high school in Miami, dancing and drinking the nights away, and laying out on the beach. It had been a blast, but she was exhausted and ready to hop on her flight back to Nevada and sleep all the way home. Her roommate, Adam, was picking her up, and the only time she was planning on being awake was to get off the plane and grab her suitcase before getting right back to sleep in the car. Reflecting that it was a shame she hadn't met this bartender earlier in her trip, Kylee scooped up her purse and headed to her gate. A few eyes flashed in her direction as she walked - a thin brunette of twenty-seven, Kylee had small breasts, but her long legs and beautiful features made up for that. She was dressed today in khaki kapris, a light blue top, and sandals that she was looking forward to kicking off on the plane. It wasn't more than a five minute wait to board once she reached her gate, and soon enough Kylee was snuggled up in her window seat with two pillows and an airplane blanket. An elderly couple took the seats next to her. She gave them a brief smile, then closed her eyes and drifted off before the flight attendant had started her safety speech. Kylee jolted awake some time later, her heart beating fast. Disoriented, she looked around the cabin, and despite it being dark now, she didn't think she could have been asleep very long. But then she realized why she had woken up, and any thoughts of the time vanished. No. No. No. Oh my god, no. Her heart pounding, she glanced at the couple next to her. They were both asleep. Closing her eyes, Kylee slipped a hand under the airplane blanket, and felt herself burn red as she confirmed it. Kylee had pissed her pants. She felt around gingerly, too scared of revealing herself to lift the blanket and look. The insides of her thighs were soaked, as were her butt and the back of her legs. She cringed as she realized she had been sitting on the bottom of her top, and that was wet too. Biting her lip, Kylee stared out the window into the dark, trying not to burst into tears. This didn't feel real. She had no idea what to do - she didn't have any spare clothes, and even if she did, she had no way to make it to the bathroom without everyone seeing what she'd done, and then she'd have to sit back down in her piss-soaked seat. The urge to cry threatened to overwhelm her again and she shut her eyes. Why did this have to happen now? Kylee wasn't a stranger to bedwetting, but it hadn't happened in four years. Her stomach clenched as she thought back to her first two years in college, when she'd been forced to resort to a pullup if she was spending the night outside the safety of her own bed to save herself the humiliation that came with her accidents. What she would have given to have one on now... Shoving those thoughts aside, Kylee reached down and grabbed her phone, only for her heart to sink further as she realized they'd only been flying for an hour. Her pee was getting cold on her skin, and her butt was starting to itch, but she didn't dare draw attention to herself by scratching. So she stared out of the window, too uncomfortable to sleep, tears rolling silently down her face. She still wanted to bawl, but was too proud to let anyone know what had happened, but she desperately wished someone could save her, or that she'd wake up again to find this was all a nightmare. Nothing like that happened. The plane simply continued on its course for Nevada, and Kylee eventually closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, getting more and more uncomfortable as she felt a rash starting. About an hour later, a new problem sprung up. Kylee needed to pee again, and despite her attempt to ignore it, her bladder was starting to scream at her. No way, she thought. I was asleep the first time, there's nothing I could have done about it. I'm not peeing my pants again. I'm a grown-up. I can hold it, I know I can. Fifteen minutes later, doubt was creeping in, and Kylee felt herself sweating. She was in pain, but there was no way she was walking to the bathroom in this condition. Kylee gasped as the first squirt of pee escaped. She tried holding her crotch, but the squirts just grew longer, flowing over her hand. Finally giving up, Kylee stifled a sob as warm pee flooded through her panties and into her capris again. Once she finished, she took several deep breaths, then looked at the elderly couple next to her. They were both still asleep and hadn't noticed a thing. Staring out the window, Kylee decided this was the worst she'd felt in her entire life. She was desperately uncomfortable, and as the pilot announced they would be landing in an hour, she started to wonder what on earth she was going to do when they landed. -Hope to have Part 2 up soon!
  10. I wet my jeans in park. Wonderful experience! https://pl.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5d61bb699ff56
  11. Jailor Eckman

    female Page 17

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    Yes, I am still continuing this! (Sorry about the delayed return! Certain life-things got in the way of my usual schedule!)
  12. Jailor Eckman

    female Page 18

    From the album: Off-Limits!

  13. View File JUFE-079 This one is mostly about humiliation, but it does have two great omorashi scenes. The plot goes like this: a male employee gets back at his bitchy boss for mistreating him (there is a full version showing him take full advantage of her, on some JavTube if you do some googling). As for this cut, in part 1 he adds some diuretic in her water, locks her down in her office and then you know what happens. In part 2 he continues to humiliate her by making her wet herself in different positions. There are some nude peeing in the full version in a similar scenario, but this cut doesn't have any. Overall, it's a nice video, especially the actress. Submitter Calb Submitted 08/18/2019 Category Desperation Clothing  
  14. Calb

    JUFE-079

    Version 1.0.0

    294 downloads

    This one is mostly about humiliation, but it does have two great omorashi scenes. The plot goes like this: a male employee gets back at his bitchy boss for mistreating him (there is a full version showing him take full advantage of her, on some JavTube if you do some googling). As for this cut, in part 1 he adds some diuretic in her water, locks her down in her office and then you know what happens. In part 2 he continues to humiliate her by making her wet herself in different positions. There are some nude peeing in the full version in a similar scenario, but this cut doesn't have any. Overall, it's a nice video, especially the actress.

    Free

  15. simoneenomis

    Maid to Order

    This is a several part work I have been toying around with for some time now, I decided to finally sit down and start writing it. and without further ado Maid to order Chapter 1: Interview Fiona Salasbar arrived at the mansion that would be her place of residence and employment for the next 3 months Her parents had arranged it all, it was training for a career in business that her parents had her slated for, Fiona was a bright girl who lacked confidence, shy, easily startled, and a little bit more accident-prone than the average 16-year-old girl. This opportunity was the product of a chance encounter between her father and the wealthy entrepreneur that had occurred over ten years ago just before she was born where her father had saved a stranger on the street from being fatally crushed by a falling piano by tackling him. Both her father and the man were unscathed. Her father told her how he had originally been fearful that the well to do individual would sue him or attempt to press charges for assault or some similar crime as was all too common at the time. Instead, the man offered her father a lucrative job and had become Fiona's godfather. The man her father had saved was Jhon Hawthorne a successful entrepreneur with a wide range of connections in the business world. The place of her employment was the Hawthorne estate, The residence of John Hawthorne, and one of his side businesses, a training program for turning young women into invaluable Managers and Personal assistants. His curriculum instilled aspiring young women with discipline, confidence, and a unique brand of professionalism that was sought after in the upper echelons of the business world. Fiona Sat in the office of the man her parents had told her so much about, they admonished her repeatedly telling her the story over and over again stressing that she was to be polite, express her gratefulness and mind her manners in front of the man before her, the man named john hawthorn who had given their family almost all they currently had. Fiona was in some of her nicest informal clothes, a checkered skirt that stopped just above the knee and a peach-colored blouse. Fiona felt her heart fluttering, and her throat was dry on the ride there, without realizing it she had consumed a full three bottles of water. Fiona's first task at the Hawthorne estate was a mock interview, The result was irrelevant but Fiona would experience several such interviews over the course of her stay, it served to measure her progress as time went on “Have a seat, Fiona right, You should be Andrew’s Daughter, Even if I am your godfather I won’t treat you any different from the other students ” Fiona felt her heart in her throat, if someone looked closely, they could see her knees trembling slightly as a small unnoticeable drop of amber liquid ran down her leg something Fiona herself was unaware of The man had sharp almost carved features dark hair and deep, piercing, amber eyes. His voice was gentle but carried a strong almost soothing baritone. The study where the interview took place was immaculate and neatly arrange, The desk made of an ornately carved and stained wood of a dark and rich brown, its lacquer perfectly maintained. On it was a small 30-second hourglass made from silver and oak. The man, Jhon Hawthorne remained seated a comfortable looking leather chair just as perfect as the desk, not a stitch out of Place An ornate rug adorned the hardwood floor, and in front of the fine wooden desk was a small white linen-covered chair Fiona sat down as few more golden drops exited her She was far too preoccupied with her own nervousness to be aware of her desperation and unconscious voiding “Let us begin with introductions, Jhon Hawthorne” “F-Fiona Salasbar” She spoke and extended her hand to meet his, The hand was rough, and callused, his handshake was firm but not uncomfortable. “well Fiona, you’ve already made two mistakes, grip firmly, not feebly, and speak from the diaphragm you are a woman, not a mouse” Fiona felt her cheeks heat up, she gripped man's hand more tightly while Clenching her legs unconsciously on reflex, giving a small shake before releasing her grip. “What are your Skills” Sansa’s mind went blank and she suddenly became aware of her need to visit the restroom “I um, I, Bathroom” Sansa got up from the chair and took a few shaking steps toward the door shaking like a leaf, dribbles, and spurts of urine running down her legs, her underwear had long since reached the point of saturation as the liquid ran down her legs past her skirt. Fiona left a pair of obvious trails behind her as she struggled to get to the door with slow almost uncertain steps. Jhon Hawthorne watched with a deadpan look but in his eyes a faint light of something approaching amusement could be seen, as the girl before him had yet to ask for the location of the bathroom and was clearly unable to make the trip, the chair that she had been seated at had a record-sized yellow stain and the rug might already be ruined. “Terra Could you show our new trainee the facilities” “Of course master” With both the request and the reply a strong spurt of urine shot down Fiona's legs, Terra a large woman in a French maid outfit guided the leaking Fiona down the hall by the elbow “Oh and make sure to provide her with any accommodations you see fit” “Certainly Master, Leave it to me”
  16. A new edit of a story from a ways back that I never shared here! The Evil Witch's Special Ingredient Star woke up to a splash of water in her face. She sputtered and tried to look around. Her head was throbbing, the room was foreign. Where was she before this? “That finally woke you up,” said a sultry female voice. “Zannethrane!” Star said as she tried to reach out her arms to attack. The room echoed with the sound of metal as everything came into focus. She was captured, chained up with her wrists in manacles from overhead. She could feel the cold stone wall behind her, her tail flicked at the sensation. Before her was a tall human woman, her nose turned so far up that it was a wonder nothing came rolling out. Her hair was a fading blonde, and her eyes a sharp blue. She wore a black and white dress that left so much of her pale-pink legs exposed it was a wonder she wore it at all. So, you know, definitely evil. “Poor cursed child,” Zannethrane said as she leaned forward and cupped Star’s chin with immaculate fingers, “it really is a shame we have to meet like this. I’ve other… experiments I’ve wanted to try on Tieflings.” Star growled at the woman, and tried to pull her face free. She could feel her body growing warm. Unfortunately, she knew not even a tieflings fury was going to help her break her chains. “I plan to keep you here a while,” the woman said, then she turned her back on Star and came back with a corked bottle. “Hungry?” Star forced a false smile, “no thanks, I’m cutting back.” Zannethrane let a slow smile creep across her face. The woman was always slow like that, as if she had to figure out which emotion to show besides contempt or mischief. “I know we’ve been fighting for some time,” Zannethrane said, her hand sliding down from her hips to the exposed skin of her upper thigh, “but your friends won’t be here for a while. I have a use for you, and it includes you being alive. Your friends expect you to be alive. Starving yourself is just… petty.” Star wanted to headbutt the woman until her face was a bloody mess. It was one of those satisfying fantasies that could help you power through the worst situations. She stayed quiet. It was safer to just glare at the evil witch. “Suit yourself,” Zannethrane said. Then she loosened the chains just enough that Star’s knees touched the ground. Star mentally judged the distance between them, too far. Maybe she could trip her, but that could only get her so far. Especially when she lacked any weapons. She had seen Zannethrane survive worse, like Star’s shortsword through her midsection. Giving her a nasty bruise on the back of her head would be child’s play. “Until we meet again,” Zannethrane said as she walked to the gate enclosing the small room. The door opened, it was unlocked, then Zannethrane walked out. When the woman’s heeled steps were distant enough, Star let out a long breath. It had to be true that Zannethrane needed her, she had seen the gross witch turn a man to ash for looking at her the wrong way. They nearly lost Aelar when she cursed his bow arm into a black husk. Her magic was potent. Star strained the chains over her head. Whatever sort of metal they were, they were enchanted. The young adventurer could only imagine the sort of victims Zannethrane kept down here. Here, where was she? They had already stormed one lair of the witch, and they burned it to the ground. That one didn’t have a dungeon either. Star looked around and saw that the room was just big enough for her. There was a bit of woven hay at her feet so she could kneel without hurting herself, her chains lead over her head then linked to a spot by the door, too far. Then there was the barred dungeon doors you come to expect when you find yourself on the wrong side of authority. No bed, not even a window. She couldn’t see far out of the room, for all she knew she was in the middle of a volcano. Actually, it was too cold for that. Star sat cross-legged, closed her eyes, and tried to think of a way out. Which gave her plenty of time to realize that without her weapons, stripped down to her tunic and skirt, she wasn’t going to have a lot of luck facing a powerful witch infamous for terrorizing the countryside. “Hello?” Said a warbling voice, “Star?” Star opened her eyes and saw a pinkish image of a good friend, Kristoff the Wizard. “Quiet Kris,” she hushed him, “she might hear you.” “What?” The holographic image shouted, “I can’t hear you, you’re barely coming through.” “I said..” She shut up, that was a losing battle, “have you found me? Are you coming?” “We’re trying to find you. After the fight, she left the town a mess. We can’t figure out where Zannethrane went.” Star had to calm herself, they didn’t know where she was. She could be here for months, years. How long was it between their first and second battle with the witch? 2 seasons. “Don’t worry, Star,” Kris said, “We have Brex tracking your scent. We won’t lose you, I promise.” The image got weaker, then it faded away entirely. What could Zannethrane want with her? Her memory was returning, and she remembered being ambushed in a town square while they were just buying supplies. They prepared the cursed staff to use against her, were ready to fight, then Zannethrane was on Star in a blink. Then her memory was blank. She didn’t even know if this was her first time waking up, or talking to Kris. She had to assume it was. If she was going to be here for months, she couldn’t stand up to Zannethrane with simple aggression. It seemed like her old philosophical arguments with Kris were coming back to haunt her. Though considering her own stance, ‘philosophy’ was a stretch. Star looked at the bottle, it was still in the center of the room, just within reach. She grabbed it, uncorked it, and sniffed at it. “Milk?” She whispered. It smelled like plain dairy milk. That would definitely keep her alive. She dipped a pinky into the bottle, and tasted the milk. Tasteless, that slight ‘light’ sensation of cold milk. Maybe she was saving the really cruel torture for later. Star took a deep breath, and felt her stomach gurgle in hunger. She was going to have to do this. Star drank from the bottle, the cool liquid sliding down her throat in large gulps. It wasn’t bad, in fact it was delicious. She stopped and let out a gasp of relief. She looked around the room, worried there would be something wrong with her vision. Her skin was still red, her tail still worked, everything was fine. Over the next hour, she finished the whole bottle. Star put her horns back against the stone wall, and tried to relax. Two hours later, she was faced with a unique problem of being in a dungeon. Despite all attempts to forget about it, pretend it wasn’t happening, or label it as a non-issue, Star’s bladder demanded attention. She had been in a variety of dungeons in her years of adventuring, and now she had to decide if this was going to be the sort of dungeon where you came out smelling like you already died, or if Zannethrane was going to give her a pot. One look around the room made her think it was likely the former. Star squeezed her legs together. It felt like she hadn’t gone in over a day, and she realized that could be true. She slept for who knows how long. There were footsteps in the hall, and Star’s nerves went on edge. She wanted to try to move to her feet, but the shock of Zannethrane’s approaching footsteps sent a bolt through her bladder. She stayed down, but grabbed the bottle. There was only going to be one shot at this. The witch appeared, and a crooked smile spread across her face. She had a wooden bowl in her hands, like something an apothecary or cook would use. Unfortunately, all Star could see was a possible receptacle for her to void. She bit her lip. “I see you took my offer,” Zannethrane said as she opened the gate and walked into the room, “I’m flattered, cursed child.” She put the bowl down by the door, and looked over Star’s body, brown horns, glowing crimson eyes. “I should be more courteous, your name is Star isn’t it?” She said, “I bet that means you named yourself. Though, personally I find the name fitting.” Star was ready to break the bottle, and bring it against the witch. Maybe it wouldn’t put her down for good, but she had to at least try. She just hoped she had the strength to do it. Then, Zannethrane grabbed at the slack chain on her side of the room, and started to pull. Star’s eyes went wide, and she realized too late as her hands were yanked above her head. “No!” She yelled. The bottle hung there, gripped by the neck. “Naughty naughty,” Zannethrane said as she continued to pull Star up without effort. Star’s toes left the ground, and she felt the weight of her body pulling down. Especially one area in particular. Zannethrane walked over and reached up, grabbing the bottle in Star’s hands. The tiefling held on to it with a weak grunt of resistance. The witch looked her in the eyes, an overbearing stare that lacked the coldness that Star assumed she would see, “you don’t seem to realize the situation you’re in.” Zannethrane ran her other hand over Star’s chest, the small bit of exposed cleavage at the top of her tunic. The woman’s cold hands slipped into the space between her breasts, a slow exploration that made Star’s skin crawl. The hand gripped her, then slid down her side, a distant touch outside of her clothing. It travelled to her stomach, then two fingers pressed into her lower belly. The sudden pressure sent bells of alarm through Star’s body, and her thighs clapped together as she squeezed with all of her might. High on her list of personal goals was to not piss herself in front of evil witches. Her hands let go of the bottle, and Zannethrane caught it without effort, putting it down on the ground. Then the witch went back to the door, collected her bowl, and put it down just below Star’s feet. “I came here to help you,” Zannethrane said, “I told myself, drinking that much of my homegrown milk, the poor girl must be in a frenzy by now. I’ll go down there personally, and solve the issue.” Star tried to grin, “thanks, but I’m fine, really.” “Oh?” Zannethrane said with a few rapid blinks of her long lashes, “then I guess you won’t mind if I take my bowl back?” She leaned back down to grab it, and Star felt her eyes zero in on the bowl. It looked like sweet relief. Just looking at it made her body throb. That small pain, centered just above her groin, and growing. It would be so easy to just let it go. Star realized Zannethrane was looking up at her, “unless you would rather it stays.” Star didn’t say a word, instead looking away. She felt a hand on her thigh, and looked over to see Zannethrane’s eyes going over her body. The woman’s cold digits slid up the inside of Star’s leg, fingers splayed over her skin. It made Star’s muscles tense, in fear, anticipation. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Zannethrane said, “it is only natural. I know you have to be full. So just, let loose. I promise to clean up any spillover. I’ll be just like your mother, Star.” “Shut up!” Star shouted, and she kicked out a leg. The witch caught it, and the pulse of panic through her body made Star regret the action immediately. Zannethrane smiled at her, her fingers sliding further up Star’s legs. The fingers vanished under her skirt, moved up against her undergarments. Star’s breathing was getting faster, she didn’t know what to expect next. A finger touched her lower lips, the ones she wanted closed so tight. A thumb slid along her entrance, down one direction, up again, as if curious. Never harsh, teasing. She knew her own body, and all she could imagine was her lips parting for the foreign finger, welcoming it without question after she had neglected her womanhood for so long on the road. “Please,” Star’s voice wavered, “Zannethrane, stop.” Zannethrane let her leg down, but reached between Star’s legs and pulled up her tail. Star caught her breath, her body begging her for relief. She felt like she was fighting a stupid battle. All of this for what, to not do her private business in front of an enemy? She was going to hurt herself at this point. Zannethrane took the fuzzy end of Star’s tail, and rubbed along it with a single finger. Star tried to ignore the sensation, but Zannethrane was looking her square in the eyes. “I’ll tell you the truth,” Zannethrane said, “since it won’t matter. I’m not just helping you with the bowl. You might have guessed that already.” Star tried counting in her head, but that made the seconds seem to drain past. Her thighs clenched reflexively. Every stroke of her tail sent a small wave of pleasure through her body. It wasn’t exactly a reaction she liked to advertise, but here the witch seemed to know her every intimate weakness. “There is a spell, you see. It requires a certain special ingredient. I let the catalyst run through you, and now.” Zannethrane’s hand caressed Star’s lower belly, “well, now you’re going to spill the reagent I need, down your legs, into my bowl, and just in time for my victory.” Star tried to pull her tail free, but Zannethrane held it tight, “why don’t you just buy some on a black market, or whatever you witches do?” Zannethrane thought about it, “freshness, for one. When your goal is absolute domination, sometimes you need to go the extra mile. Plus, I do like to touch you, Star.” There was a distant hissing sound from outside the room, and Zannethrane frowned, there went that look of contempt. “Plus,” She said, letting go of Star’s tail, “you’ll find that the voided contents of a half-lost soul isn’t that common in your local bazaar. Excuse me for a minute.” Zannethrane started to leave the room, then turned at the door, a wide smile on her face as she looked at Star’s clenched legs, “Feel free to water the weeds at any time.” Then she was gone. As soon as she was out of the room, a pink outline appeared in front of Star. Star’s heart jumped, which lead to her squeezing her whole lower body. She felt like a dammed waterfall, the rapids pressing up against the wood. “Star,” Kris’s voice came through the communication spell. “Kris, you seem clearer now.” “We’re right outside,” Kris said, “We’re working our way into the building. We should be there to rescue you in mere minutes. Turns out she is…” “Yeah yeah,” She said with a shake of her head, “Hurry the hell up. She is cooking up some sort of spell, and I need you guys to break me free.” Kris looked at her with an eyebrow raised, “Well if we defeat her, that should stop the spell right?” Star’s bladder pinged with pain, and she grunted with the effort to hold back the tide. “Just hurry, please.” He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, and then Star heard the distant sound of an explosion, and the outline started to fade. “We are on our way, just hold on.” Easier said than done. Star looked down at the bowl between her legs, and felt a pang of pressure. Her breathing was erratic now, and she knew she probably just had enough minutes for them to get to her. This was well beyond the point of telling people you had to go despite the setting, or even the point of running off into the woods even if your friends were left confused. If she wasn’t sure that Zannethrane was going to blow up a chunk of the local barony, she would have let loose already. Instead, as the pressure built up inside her, she squeezed her thighs together, and cursed the bars above her for making it impossible for her to hold herself. Her knees twisted one over the other, and she squeezed her eyes shut. A chill went down her spine and she felt a small jet of warmth. Her eyes opened in a panic. Was she going? No, just a small leak, she was safe for now. All she had to do was hold on. “It seems your friends are here,” Zannethrane said as she walked back into the room with her arms crossed one over the other, “So I do hope you’re finished.” She walked over and looked down at the bowl, a look of maternal disappointment on her face. “Star, Star, Star,” She said as she moved closer, reaching out and touching Star on the cheek, “you’re making this hard for no reason, dear. Think about it, even if your friends were going to defeat me, I can’t cook up my spell while they are running around.” Her fingers edged the skin between Star’s hair and horn, then she laid a small kiss on her chin. “Just let it loose, I promise not to make a big deal about it. Were you mocked as a child? Weak bladder? I know you haven’t resisted nearly as long as I predicted, and I’m thankful for that, really. But we’re working on a stunted timetable now.” Star couldn’t move. Her whole body was strained like one muscle. One drop had already come through, and she knew that she was moments away from letting the whole torrent loose. She could already imagine the sweet release, that moment of satisfaction when it all comes flowing free. She felt another warm drop between her legs and stifled a gasp. “Unless,” Zannethrane said with her mouth agape and a sparkle in her eyes, “You’re already going? Oh how adorable, like a training child. I always forget how absorbent commoner materials are.” Zannethrane reached under Star’s skirt, and she could feel the witch’s cold fingers hook into her undergarment shorts. “No,” Star begged, “Stop, stop.” The witch sidled them down, the material sliding down over Star’s hips. They caught between her feet since one was over the other, but Zannethrane pulled them free. She looked at the crotch, and Star felt a blush come to her cheeks. There was a dark spot about the size of a small silver piece. Zannethrane smiled, then tossed them aside. Her hands went back to Star’s waist, pulling up her skirt and looking at Star’s bare womanhood. “You really are beautiful, do you know that? I’m glad I had to capture you. No offense to your partners in futile rebellion, but you are my favorite.” Zannethrane said. Star felt a brief squirt between her legs, and let out a small squeak in surprise. She felt so weak. She couldn’t figure out why this was happening to her. Any day of the week she would be charging Zannethrane with a blade in hand. Instead the witch was watching as small droplets escaped from her most intimate places. “Look at that,” Zannethrane giggled, “It’s happening.” Zannethrane’s fingers slid along her thighs, forcing her legs apart. The lack of control drove Star insane. A dribble of liquid slid down her leg. “Come on, you can do it little one,” Zannethrane said. Her index finger slid along Star’s lips, teased her, touched her. The fingers came away moist, but Star didn’t know what had made them wetter. “Hold on Star!” Said a distant voice. It was Kris, they were here. She could hear several sets of feet charging toward her. “Not yet,” Zannethrane whispered toward Star’s wavering bladder, “not just yet.” Star couldn’t hold on, she knew she was seconds from bursting. She just wanted relief, but her friends were so close. All she had to do was hold on. She felt another warm jet leave her lips, and a soft cry of shock turned into a moan of relief. It felt so good, even if just for a second. Then the pressure returned. This leak was longer, she couldn’t do it. There was a trickling noise, and her eyes opened wide, her legs squeezing against Zannethrane’s grip, and it immediately stopped. The face of Kris, Brex, Aelar, all appeared at the gate. Zannethrane made a motion of her hand, and an arcane burst of power struck the gate, freezing it over with jagged ice. But she could still see them, clearly, and they could see Star. Zannethrane let Star’s legs fall, and took a step to the side, leaving her a clear view of her friends as she struggled. Another leak, this one flowed down her legs, a hot rivulet that made a path down her leg. Star’s bottom lip trembled, her muscles ached, and she felt the last of her strength waste away. The small stream was joined by another, and a twin on her other leg. The stream grew stronger, and Star couldn’t ignore the quick bursts of relief coming over her. She looked up at her friends and saw their faces, shame, disgust, confusion. Tears came to Star’s eyes. She closed them and a sob shook her body. She let loose, the telltale hissing sound filling the cell as the streams became a heavy flow, a waterfall that fell from between her lips and flowed straight into the bowl between her legs. “Already getting full, you were holding a lot,” Zannethrane whispered, “my poor baby.” Star couldn’t deny the feeling of relief, her head was hanging in shame. A blush came to her cheeks, and her whole body went slack. It felt exquisite. She felt Zannethrane’s hand on her back, comforting her with small rubs as the loud flow turned into a slower trickle, then to soft pattering. As the last drops came out, Star felt a small moan escape her. She was empty. Star realized there was a distant thumping sound. Her head pulled up, and she could see her friends trying to break through the ice. “I would stay and clean you up,” Zannethrane said as she picked up the overflowing bowl of clearish liquid, “but it seems your friends insist on interrupting us.” Zannethrane put a hand on Star’s cheeks, and Star was too weak to resist it. It was warm, for once. After everything she had been through, she had no will to be choosey. “I’ll see you again soon, favorite.” The ice shattered, and the warm hand was gone. “Star!” Came the burly female voice of Brex. The orc ran over and lowered the chains, Star falling into the puddle of her remaining failure. Kris came to her and started to lift her up. “What was that?” Kris said, “what was she doing to you?” Star hung from his shoulder, her legs feeling like loose noodles. “Had to be a spell of some kind,” Aelar said, “the question is what does she intend to do with it?” “For right now,” Kris said, “we need to get Star to safety, then we can figure out where to find her and stop her!” “It doesn’t matter,” Star whispered. “What?” Star let out a weak laugh, “she won’t hurt me. She wouldn’t hurt me.”
  17. Jailor Eckman

    female Request 019

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    The city of Megalith has once again become a battleground between the order of law and those who seek to destroy it! But fear not, for this city has a super-powered heroine who will fight these forces until the end of time! And until now, she was deemed unstoppable. Being fed up with their repeated failure to combat Megalith's only hero, the criminal underworld has united in an effort to finally put an end to their ultimate obstacle. Months of research and planning came up dry: no weapon they could feasibly obtain had the punch, and no substance seemed to weaken the woman. And though they could catch her off-guard, she was always able to persevere... Until a clever, albeit strange revelation struck evil's greatest scientists: Pouring over their records of the "Super Woman of Megalith", they noticed a consistency. This girl was nearly always sure to empty her bladder before being caught in a fight. (Further explaining why she often emerged from the Ladies' Room in costume, a fact they had ignored.) One anecdotal account described a time wherein she was instead caught off-guard outside of a theatre after a three-hour movie. Being unable to relieve herself made her notably weaker. Was this the weakness that they had sought for so long? Meticulous planning went into the debut of evil's last attempt. A belt was fashioned of tempered ultima-titanium (an alloy of titanium and nano-carbonic mesh known as the only material that the heroine could not break) and imbued with the syndicate's mistress' power to serve two functions: It could be tightened at their mistress' will, and utterly prevented the release of urine. The plan was as such: those who had infiltrated her workplace would coax her to imbibe an excessive quantity of diuretic-laced citrus tea (her favorite flavor), and slip the belt around her waist from beneath the conference-room table. Though the last bit gave them away, it did not matter... the fight had begun! This is the sorta-request I did for @Batman007. A long time ago, they asked that I do a superheroine, so I gave it a shot! Probably not that original, but hey, it was fun!
  18. Mad Bladder

    Monica’s Shame

    Chapter 1-Trying to get a wee before leaving Monica scrubbed her body as the boiling hot water poured all over her, flowing down in tiny rivers that splashed below and went down the drain. Her rock hard muscle, yet very thin tan body shined in this hot water which steamed up the whole bathroom. Monica whistled while she soaped up her broad shoulders. Lots of girls had hot bodies, but Monica made sure she had the one no boy would expect growing up. Having started lifting weights in high school, and having just graduated college and working as an engineer at a plant for construction projects, she now built a well-fit body that got a lot of guy’s attention at college. One guy while she waited in line for dinner at college her sophomore year grabbed her ass, and she flipped around, twisted his nipples and brought him to the ground. The whole cafe cheered that day and the douchebag was expelled, from that moment on men (and some women) loved this brown hair women’s muscular tan body. Not tall, average girl heigh. She rubbed the shampoo through her hair as her nipples flattened from the hot water, her awesome body in v-shape down as she bent over in that moment and scrubbed her crotch, getting a bit aroused while doing so. She finished and headed out the door, her roommate Emma bouncing in agony and rushed in. Monica hid her small laugh. “Oops” she said. She shared the house with a couple friends. Monica slipped into her tight black skirt that seemed to be a little too short for work which showed off her sexy hard calf’s and ass of steel. She put on a tight White top without sleeves just over the shoulders but boy did it show off those two breasts that were round and hard as bricks. She slipped her sock less feet into some black high heels. She brushed her dark brown hair so it went straight down just past the shoulders and was perfectly wavy. She drank the last bit of her morning coffee she left on her dresser before she showered, then went downstairs for a refill and drank that right down. “Ok, I should head out,” Monica said, seeing the clock. She lived in the city and had to take the train to work. She bagged the blueprints of the project they were working on at her plant, and felt a very small twitch in her abdomen. Well, that coffee traveled fast. She went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. Her roommate was still in there. “Emma, you almost done? I have to get going and I want to use the bathroom one more time before I leave.” “I have to get ready too ya know!” Emma yelled. She worked in the mayors office. Monica sighed. Her arms crossed across her chest trying to keep it together. “Ok, but it’s a bit of a ride to work, I just want to go one last time. I think I drank down my coffee too fast.” She bit her bottom lip and raised an eyebrow in wonder if she will get in or not? “Is it an emergency?” Emma asked without concern in her voice. Monica rolled her eyes. The fuck was this chick’s problem!? “No, but come on, let me in. I barely feel it but I just want to let it out now.” “Door is open,” Emma said. Monica opened the door, and there was sexy Emma in a pile of soapy bubbles that leaked over the edge of the tub. Monica put her hands on her hips and started to tap her foot in annoyance. When was Emma gonna get out of the tub. Seeing the toilet right there caused a slight jolt in her bladder. “Well, you gonna go or not?” “Not with you in the bathroom with me!” “Pff. Come on girls don’t have shy bladders, it in our nature. Now get going.” Monica could squash that myth in a heartbeat. She was a tough chick, but after twenty-three years on this earth, she fell weak when it was her bladder, peeing with someone on the other end of the door was hard enough, but in the same room!? Monica just shook her head and went downstairs and out the door. “I’ll just go at the train station,” she said to herself. She was almost done with her apple when she got there, her bladder having been humped around as she speed-walked there since she was running late after having to argue with Emma. The twitches made her lips curl to the side a couple times having felt slight discomfort against her abdomen. She grabbed her ticket after she paid at the machine, and saw sadly the women bathrooms were out of order. A long line of men and women waited outside the men’s room. She tossed her arms up. She sighed having become annoyed. She did all she could, hopped on her train, crossed her legs and wiggled the foot that went over the other leg as the train made its destination to the other end of the city where Monica worked. She got off and ate the rest of her apple as she entered the ladies bathroom. The pressure now stayed there in her abdomen. Nothing extreme, but it was like a hot bubble was growing and pushing against her insides slightly without stopping. There was only a couple stalls in this bathroom, and one was occupied as Monica noticed the other women’s feet. Monica went into the stall but her phone started buzzing. A text message from her boss Alicia. It read: CODE RED! NEED ALL SUPERVISIORS ON THE PROJECT IN ENTRANCR HALL IN NEXT TWO MINUTES! “Fuck!” Monica said as she looked at the time. She had to clock in five minutes or she’d be late. She looked down at the toilet, frowned, as there was her relief but there be no way to make it in time to the meeting if she peed. The urk of being a woman, you could not just wiggle it and be done. It was a process. She bounced a little, annoyed, and She bit the last part do her apple and tossed it in the toilet and hit the flush handle with her foot as she left without peeing. The flushing sound causing her to blink hard and raise one leg backwards trying to stay tight and keep it in. The remaining stub of the apple being flushed down the into the plumbing, the twitches in her bladder becoming more aggressive that one would start to try find a bathroom at this point. To be continued...
  19. Anyone else from St. Louis? The lack of public bathrooms is sure something in urban areas, huh? For those of you who may be familiar with the area... There I was, with my husband, walking down the last bit of the Delmar Loop (very busy strip, full of specialty shops, restaurants, and city life), ducking in and out of buildings in an attempt to find relief for my aching bladder, only to be thwarted by locked doors, "for customers only" signs, and exclamations of "No public restrooms!" So, what do you do in that situation? You wait, and you hold it. Fortunately, our train was due any moment, and I knew where to find a bathroom at our destination. As I left the last shop, assuring my husband that I would be okay, having given up finding a bathroom, we took off toward the metrolink station. When we arrived, the train was just pulling up to the station. "Hurry!" my husband yelled to me as he jogged to the train. "I can't!" I replied, through gritted teeth. It was all I could do to keep moving. Running on a bladder this full would be impossible. Naturally, the train left without us, much to the annoyance of my husband and the dispair of myself. I looked at him with wide eyes and mouthed an apology while I let my hand grasp between my legs for less than a second. He rolled his eyes and nodded, then gave me a half smile, being accustomed to my bladder having a mind of its own. As we waited for the next train, around 25 minutes, I assumed different positions to aid in my holding. I tried sitting on the bench with my legs or ankles crossed, then stood and paced with my arms folded across my chest, and finally resorted to sitting on the pavement so I could hold myself under my loose black dress, but over the black leggings I was wearing. I was beginning to become frantic; the train was not coming quickly enough! I looked at my husband with pleading eyes. When he asked if I was okay (translation: "Have you wet your pants again?") I assured him I was, for now. Finally, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. The next train was pulling into the station! Hurriedly, we boarded and found a seat. I couldn't help but fidget, stomp, and shift in my seat. I may have even let out a few whines. There was nothing I could do--I just had to go so badly. I could tell my husband was becoming a little embarrassed at my behavior and I did my best to sit still like a proper 23-year-old woman. Suddenly, I gripped my crotch through my dress in panic. We still had at least 15 minutes left on the train, but I knew I didn't have that long before I lost it. I whispered to my husband "It's coming." He said, "We can get off a stop early and you can go at McDonald's?" As my eyes started to tear up in shame, I told him I wouldn't make it; it is coming now. As my bladder released, I lifted my dress slightly and moved to the edge of the seat to minimize the damage. I felt awful for having an accident in the train seat but I didn't know what else to do. Pulling my dress out of the way, I hugged my knees to my chest and soaked my black leggings and the seat. My husband, annoyed and embarrassed, but understanding, gently rubbed my back as I kept my eyes to the ground and uncontrollably emptied my bladder in the crowded train. It wasn't until it began dripping on the floor that he pulled away, obviously even more humiliated than I was. When the train pulled into our stop, we quickly exited the train, avoiding meeting the eyes of the other passengers. Fortunately, I'd had the foresight to pull my dress from under me, and there was very little wetness on it. My leggings were totally covered. As we passed the park bathroom, he urged me to try to finish in the toilet. I protested, saying I had done it all in my pants, but did proceed to try. Nope. Nothing. As we continued the short walk home, he gently scolded me for not addressing the need sooner and wetting myself, but then agreed that more bathrooms should be available in such a public area. He knows I did my best.
  20. One thing that I find somewhat off putting in a lot of omorashi videos is the girl's underplayed reaction to having wet herself. In many cases they don't seem as ashamed as that situation would make them in real life. Does anyone know of any videos that feature more of this aspect of omorashi? Thanks
  21. Sapphire3619

    malefemale The Aftermath of the Snow

    It is the end of the semester, so I have a ton of things that I don't want to do before break, so I wrote this instead. I wrote it fast and sloppy, so I'm sure I missed some fairly ridiculous mistakes! *** Cami rolled her eyes. “No one in this whole state knows how to handle snow,” she lamented. Damien, her somewhat impromptu companion, shrugged good-naturedly. “Donna wanted milk, too, right?” “Yes, skim,” Cami clarified, reaching for a carton of eggs. The grocery store was, as expected, packed, with people scrambling to buy necessities before the storm hit. In fact, it was already snowing outside, and Cami had resisted when her mother, Donna, had requested a trip to the grocery store. Dr. Donna Patrick was a professor of international relations at the university. She lived 20 minutes or so out of town, in a large house that befit her academic rank. Her daughter, Dr. Camille Patrick, was a clinical psychologist and was in town for her mother’s yearly end-of-semester celebration. It was finals week at the university, and Donna, with her children grown, had developed a habit of inviting students to her house for a meal at the beginning of winter break. Mostly, she got students who lived close by, but occasionally, she got one like Damien, who would spend the night after the dorms closed. Damien was a junior who had first met Donna the previous spring semester in her popular intro course. Even in a class of 150 students, Damien stood out with his superior writing and thoughtful, critical answers in class. This semester, he had taken Donna’s advanced seminar, and Donna had gotten to know him even better. She knew he was a transfer student and that he wanted to go to law school. She’d been pleased when he accepted the invitation for the end-of-the-semester party. Because the dorms closed the last day of finals, Damien had agreed to say overnight at Donna’s house. Donna had explained that her husband, a professor in the chemistry department, was at a conference and would be back the following day for the party, but her daughter, Dr. Patrick (“Call her Cami”) would be in town. Cami was a few years older than Damien’s older sister, so he didn’t mind idea of sharing a house with the two women for a night. Damien had followed Donna to her house to find that Cami was already there. Introductions were made, but then the discussion turned quickly to the weather. Over Cami’s objections that no, Mom, there was really plenty of food in the house, no need to venture out, Donna decided that a trip to the grocery store was necessary, and that Damien should accompany Cami, just to be safe. Neither Cami nor Damien particularly minded having to spend time with each other, despite having just met. They were both outgoing enough that conversation wasn’t a problem. On the drive into town, Cami got to know the young man and his interests, and Damien asked about Cami’s experience in grad school and her current practice. Now, however, both were feeling ever so slightly more tense. Cami knew the roads were getting worse and didn’t want to waste time. She was doing her best not to take out any of her anxiety on the innocent student. Little did she know that Damien was working to suppress his own anxiety. He, too, was eager to get back to the house. His bladder was getting full, a sensation he really didn’t enjoy. Realistically, he could have used the restroom in the store, but it wasn’t an emergency, and he’d rather help Cami out with the shopping to speed things along. By the time they wound their way through the crowds and made it to the registers, the lines were all a half-dozen people deep. Damien drew in an unexpectedly harsh breath, but thankfully, Cami didn’t hear him. He knew he could just go. He could run to the bathroom and be back before Cami even reached the register. But the anxiety was already making him illogical, and he chose to stay where he was. “I suppose we’re part of the problem!” Cami was saying. “We’re being the kind of people who act like they’ve never seen snow before!” Damien managed a grin. The line was moving at a decent pace – at least the checkout employees were prepared for snow, apparently – and he knew he could make it back to the house. It took another 15 minutes, but eventually, Damien and Cami headed toward the exit, bags in hand. As they reached the door, however, Cami groaned. The storm had hit. Fat, heavy snowflakes coated the air, sticking to everything they touched. The cars in the parking lot already had a layer of snow, and the roads were no longer black but gray, lined with tire tracks in the rising snow. “Uuuuuuugh,” Cami moaned as they trudged across the parking lot to her car. “Mom better have wine waiting for me when we get back.” Damien gave a half-laugh. “We’ll be back, soon, though,” he said, more a question than a reassurance. “Ehhhh,” Cami shrugged, closing the trunk after putting in the last bag. “With the snow falling like this, the highway probably isn’t going to be much better. I’m guessing it’ll take us at least twice as long to get back.” Damien’s face fell, but Cami didn’t see as she slid into the driver’s seat. “Aaaaand, we have to stop for gas,” she sighed, seeing the illuminated signal on the dashboard. Cami pulled across the parking lot to the adjacent gas station. Damien looked around, but the station building was no more than a single-person kiosk. There was no public bathroom that he could use while Cami filled the car. His mind started slipping. He hadn’t had to go that badly, but nerves made his situation so much worse. Well, nerves and other things… Filling the car only took a few minutes, and Damien tried to use his last vestiges of rational thought to convince himself that he could make it through the drive home. But when Cami finally made it on to the highway, those last vestiges evaporated. Traffic had been slow enough in town as cars tried to avoid skidding through intersections, but on the highway, away from the buildings and signs, the view was almost entirely white. Snow swirled around the car, which Cami had moving at barely 30 miles an hour. Damien did some quick math in his head. At this rate, it would take them nearly an hour to get back to Donna’s house. He unconsciously turned toward the window, trying to hide his growing panic from Cami. Cami kept the radio off, focusing on the road. Although it was still daylight, visibility was terrible, and she and the other drivers kept their lights on. She drove for about 20 minutes in silence, going barely 10 miles. She knew the atmosphere in the car was tense, but she didn’t want to waste any energy trying to make conversation. Besides, Damien seemed to be OK with the silence. Until he wasn’t. At an undetermined point on the highway, Cami became aware of uneven breathing from the boy next to her. He was almost whimpering, his breaths sharp and shaky. Cami risked a quick glance sideways, but couldn’t determine anything, other than the fact that Damien was almost entirely turned toward the window. “Damien?” she asked cautiously. “You doing OK?” Out of the corner of her eye, Cami saw Damien press back into the seat. When he answered, his voice was…different. Nervous, definitely, but more…robotic, almost. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said dully. “Please.” “Oh!” Cami couldn’t hold back her shock. Damien hadn’t said anything before, and even driving slow, he should be able to make it back to the house, right? “That’s OK,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. “We’ll be back to the house soon enough.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. The only other exit between here and the one for Donna’s house was residential, so it wouldn’t have any public bathrooms to use, and it wasn’t like she could pull off the side of the road in a blizzard. Surely Damien knew that. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Damien did know that. But Damien wasn’t really thinking logically. He wasn’t thinking much at all. His movements were twitchy and uncontrolled, and after another 10 minutes, he let out a whine and shoved his hand between his legs. “Damien?” Cami asked again, more worried this time. “Are you OK?” “I don’t know if I can hold it,” Damien respond in the same flat voice. It was as if he was reading from a script, responding in a way that most college students wouldn’t. Looking down at the speedometer, Cami pressed her lips together. She really wasn’t comfortable going any faster. “You’ll be OK,” she said. “You can make it.” “I don’t know if I can.” Damien’s voice had a small tremor now. “I don’t want to have an accident.” Cami was truly bewildered now. He sounded childlike, or like an adult’s impression of a child. She risked another glance to the right – Damien’s legs were twisted tightly, hands buried between his thighs. He certainly looked like he badly needed the bathroom, but Cami couldn’t imagine a nearly grown man not being able to hold it for another 20 minutes or so. Cami kept driving. She was going as fast as she thought was safe, which wasn’t very fast at all. A few miles from their exit, Cami hard a small whine and then a hiss of breath as Damien sucked in air forcefully between his teeth. She didn’t know what talking would do at this point, but she still felt the need to ask. “Damien? How you doing over there?” “I-“ Damien’s voice was definitely shaking now. “I just peed a little bit in my pants.” “You’re OK,” Cami replied, automatically. She’d softened her own voice, as if she were talking to someone much younger than Damien. She didn’t want him to feel bad, but she also definitely didn’t want to have to clean pee out of her car. “We’re almost there,” she promised, which, while geographically correct, wasn’t quite temporally accurate. “Look, there’s our exit. Just another 10 minutes. You can do it.” A plaintive sniffle was all she got in response. She pulled off the highway, and peeked over at her passenger while stopped at the top of the exit ramp. Every muscle in Damien’s body seemed tensed. He was bouncing arrhythmically in the seat, seemingly not in control of his own body. As Cami turned, Damien felt the wetness of his underwear pressed against his skin. As tightly as he squeezed, he couldn’t make himself feel in control. Jeans weren’t the best for holding yourself, and he leaked again. “I…” he stammered, as if the words were being pulled out of him by force. “I had an accident again. M-my pants are wet.” “Honey, we’re so close,” Cami pleaded, abandoning all pretense of social correctness. The boy was in pain, and she wanted to comfort him. “Just hang on a few more minutes, OK?” “I’m…trying,” Damien answer, voice strained but still emotionless. “I’m trying not to pee my pants.” Oddly, but thankfully, the road to Donna’s house was clearer than the highway. A plow must’ve just been by. Cami took advantage of the comparatively good conditions to speed up a little. She made one final turn, the only sound in the car Damien’s hitched, desperate breathing. “There’s a bathroom in the basement,” Cami informed him. “Just off the garage. You can go in there.” “I’m going,” Damien squeaked, and Cami wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. “I’m having an accident and I can’t make it stop.” Cami hit the garage door button as she turned into her mom’s driveway. “Just one more minute, Damien, we’re here!” Pulling into the garage, Cami stopped as fast as she could. Damien was already unbuckled and fumbling with the door. He kept a hand pressed between his legs as he stumbled into the house. Cami puffed out her cheeks and sighed. She checked the passenger seat and didn’t see any wetness. She took that as a good sign and hoped that Damien was able to make it to the bathroom. Stretching out of the car, Cami gathered a few of the bags from the trunk. In the basement, the bathroom door was shut, so at least Damien had made it that far. She headed up the stairs, ready to confront her mom with some very important questions. In the bathroom, Damien had slammed the door behind him, but the sight of the toilet had been too much. As soon as he set foot on the tile, his bladder relinquished its tenuous hold, spilling urine around his tight grip. Twisting his legs together and bending forward at the waist, Damien scrabbled at his fly, but it was drenched in pee and his fingers kept slipping off. Heat coursed down his shaking legs, soaking into his shoes and socks. Damien felt lightheaded. He swayed on the spot, but didn’t fall. Several voices babbled in his head. I’m peeing in my pants…Did you have an accident?...Did you have to go potty?...I couldn’t hold it, sir…What kind of freshman can’t stop himself from wetting his pants? A pale puddle expanded around Damien’s feet, soaking into the bath mat. His head spun as he looked down at the streaks of pee still snaking down his jeans. He felt the stream of urine expelling from his bladder through his saturated boxers. He was whining softly, aimlessly. He had a huge accident all over his professor’s bathroom. He didn’t know what to do. Meanwhile, Cami had made a second trip down to the car to get the remaining groceries. She saw the bathroom door was still shut, but she knew that Damien had gotten his pants a little wet in the car, so she figured he didn’t want to come out just yet. Upstairs, Donna had come to the kitchen and was starting to put things away. “Hey, sweetie! How bad were the roads? Where’s Damien?” Cami set the bags on the counter and fixed her mother with a pointed stare. “Soooo…is there anything you know about Damien that you want to tell me?” Donna drew her head back, astonished. “Nothing that fits with the tone you’re asking me in!” she answered honestly. “What happened? Where is he? Is he OK?” Cami cringed. “He’s not hurt…” she equivocated. “But on the drive back – which took forever, by the way, I can’t believe you made me go out in this – he started acting really weird. He had to go to the bathroom, and apparently, he had to go really bad.” “Poor kid,” Donna sighed, definitely not understanding the full extent of the issue. “That must’ve been embarrassing.” “No, Mom,” Cami insisted, “it was way more than that. He was…I don’t know, narrating or something. Any other college kid would try to play it cool or laugh it off or not say anything at all, but Damien…he was describing what was happening and how he was wetting himself.” “He wet himself?!” Donna exclaimed. “Yes,” Cami rolled her eyes. Donna wasn’t a psychologist – she wasn’t focusing on what Cami thought was the important part. “And he’s still in the bathroom downstairs.” Donna frowned. “I’ll go get his bag. Poor kid. Thank God no one else is going to be here until tomorrow.” Donna was a great mom, Cami thought, and of course she’d take care of Damien, but Cami could tell – this was more than just an unfortunate accident. When Donna came back with Damien’s things, Cami followed her downstairs. Donna knocked gently on the bathroom door. “Damien?” she called. “I have your things out here, in case you need them.” There was a pause, and then the door opened slowly. Cami held back a gasp. The 20-year-old in front of her bore scant resemblance to the cheerful young man she’d met just hours ago. His eyes were red-rimmed and tear-filled, and there was nary a dry spot on the front of his jeans. Damien tugged unconsciously at the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it downward. Not that covering his crotch could do anything to distract from the drenched stretches of fabric all down both of his legs. “I…” his eyes were glassy and his voice, though definitely scratchy, had the same blank quality that Cami had heard in the car. “I didn’t make it,” Damien said, blinking. “I…I had to go so bad and I c-couldn’t get my pants undone in time and I h-had an accident on the f-floor.” Donna tilted her head sympathetically. Cami definitely felt the same, but she kept her body language neutral. “It’s OK, Damien,” Cami said softly. “It was a long ride back, and you tried really hard.” Damien flinched and looked down at the ground. Making a mental note of the boy’s reaction, Cami decided that now wasn’t the time for excessive comfort or encouragement. “We brought your bag, Damien,” Donna cut in, holding out the duffle bag. “You can get cleaned up and changed. There are clean towels on the rack in there.” Damien looked up just enough to take the bag. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He paused for a second, then turned and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Both women stood silently for a moment before Donna let out a very low whistle. “Woooooooow.” She turned back toward the stairs, and Cami followed. “I don’t know what I expected when you told me the kid had an accident, but that wasn’t it.” Her words weren’t judgmental – just stunned. Cami understood completely. It wasn’t even that Damien had apparently lost all control in the bathroom; it was the continued blankness in his voice, like he was being compelled. There was still emotion there – the unconscious attempt to cover his wet pants, the shaking voice – but the way he spoke throughout the whole ordeal indicated…something. “Can you do anything?” Donna asked as they reached the top of the stairs. Cami pressed her lips together. “You know I can’t force anything on him.” “I know, I know,” Donna waved her hand, mildly irritated at her implied lack of understanding. “But can you do anything?” “I’ll try.” Cami shrugged. Damien certainly needed some sort of care, and she had plenty of experience working with teens and young adults in her practice, but if Damien kept up this robotic narration, then there just wasn’t a lot she could do. Downstairs in the bathroom, Damien stared blearily down at the giant puddle. He heard himself whine softly and realized that his lower lip was trembling. He could barely think, but he knew that he had to clean up. Himself and the bathroom. In a fog, Damien reached for a towel. He dropped it into his mess on the floor, then started to strip off his wet pants. Several drops of urine squelched from the denim with the movement, spattering noisily onto the tile and making him cringe. Every part of him felt dirty – his hands, his feet, certainly his legs and crotch… The towel was sufficiently sopping by the time it absorbed his accident. Damien looked dazedly around the bathroom before deciding just to heap all the wet clothes in the corner. He finally turned on the shower. Upstairs, Cami listened for the sound of the shower while she finished putting away the groceries. She ran through Damien’s behavior in her mind, trying to decide what she would say to him if given the chance. The shower ran for about 15 minutes. Donna had retreated to her study to grade papers, feeling it was best not to overwhelm Damien. Cami set herself up at the island in the kitchen, working on her computer. After a few more minutes, Damien stepped into the kitchen, hair wet and duffle bag in his hand. Cami didn’t look up at first, not wanting to make him feel trapped, but when he stopped at the side of the island, she raised her eyes. Damien’s eyes were no longer blank, and his skin had regained some color, but the blankness in his face was replaced with complete shame. “I…” Even his voice was back to normal, though quiet. “I think I should leave.” Cami gazed at the young man, even though he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were down, seemingly fixed on the countertop. She took a breath before responding. “If you want to go, of course you can,” she said. “But please know that you’re welcome to stay.” Damien still couldn’t look at her, so she put every ounce of honesty she could into her voice. “Damien, no one here is mad at you or judging you for what happened. It’s not your fault. We won’t tell anyone, and we don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to.” Damien inhaled shakily and grabbed his left arm, wrapping himself in a half hug. “If you do want to leave,” Cami pleaded, “at least wait until the roads are a bit better. I’d really rather you didn’t drive in the snow, and I know Mom wouldn’t like it either.” Damien looked out the window, where fat flakes were still falling copiously. His shoulders fell – Cami was right. As much as he wanted to escape, trying to drive anywhere right now was a terrible idea. Besides, he didn’t actually have any place to stay. He’d only thought as far as getting out of the house. Cami was still looking at Damien; he could feel her gaze, but he couldn’t meet it just yet. “I…I put the…things…in the washing machine,” he explained, just for the sake of having something to say. “I hope that’s OK.” “Of course.” Cami smiled encouragingly. Damien didn’t respond, but he also didn’t move. “Damien, can I get you something? A snack, or some hot chocolate?” Cami offered. “We weren’t gonna have a big dinner with just the three of us, but-“ “I’m sorry.” Cami stopped at the quiet interruption. Damien’s voice was stretched and raw, and his eyebrows were drawn together. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he struggled to compose himself. “Damien…” Cami reached her hand across the island. “You have nothing to apologize for. I promise it’s OK.” Damien shook his head and finally looked up. To Cami’s surprise, he smiled sadly. “It’s not,” he said, shrugging. “I know it’s not, and-“ He raised his voice slightly, preempting any argument from Cami. “-I want…you deserve an explanation.” Ever the professional, Cami kept the pity she felt out of her face. She respected Damien enough that she didn’t bother telling him that he didn’t owe her anything. Shifting from foot to foot, Damien pulled out one of the bar stools and pressed himself up onto it, letting his duffle bag drop to the ground. He fidgeted a bit, trying to get comfortable in a decidedly uncomfortable situation. For her part, Cami kept quiet. “Donna told you I’m a transfer student?” he began, and Cami nodded. “I started at…another school as a freshman.” He clasped his hands together on the counter, steeling himself. “I didn’t know a lot about college, I guess. I just wanted to have fun and do well and make friends. So I decided to rush a fraternity.” Cami felt her chest tighten. Even if she hadn’t witnessed the young man have an accident, she knew enough to know that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant story. “For this place-“ Damien seemed determined not to give any identifying details. “-they would assign each new guy to an active brother. There was group stuff, too, but basically each brother who wanted it would get one or two recruits that were…well, he could do what he wanted with them.” Damien was winding his fingers together, intertwining his joints. “The guy I was assigned to…he…I didn’t get it at first. He had me and this other recruit kneel for a long time, which was pretty standard, I guess, but then he…he kept giving us water. I thought it was weird that he wasn’t giving us booze, but then I figured maybe they were being more careful not to get freshman drunk so they wouldn’t get in trouble. “It was the other guy first. He started kind of wiggling and stuff, even though we both knew we weren’t allowed to talk, but the brother…he was, I don’t know, watching for it, I guess. So he said ‘What’s wrong, recruit?’ and the other guy said that he had to pee, and the brother just told him to hold it.” Shuddering at the memory, Damien took in a deep breath. “I just…I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know people could just be like that. I thought for sure that he’d let us go to the bathroom, but he didn’t. And I know…” Damian hunched he shoulders, ashamed. “I know the other guy and I, we could have just, like, stopped, or got up and walked out, because there were two of us and only one of him, but…we just didn’t know. We thought this was normal, and we didn’t know each other at all, so we didn’t know what each other would do.” Cami had heard it all before, of course. Almost everyone who had ever been abused blamed themselves for not doing more to get out of the situation. She opened her mouth to tell Damien this, but his story wasn’t over. “So the other guy finally peed himself, and then the brother kept us there until I…I had an accident, too. I thought maybe I’d get…maybe he’d be proud of me or something, I don’t know, if I held it longer, but it didn’t seem to matter. And then I thought that, OK, he made us both pee our pants, we’ll move on to the next thing, but we just…that was it.” A tear slipped down Damien’s cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We had a whole week. Every free minute we had was supposed to be with our assigned brother, and all weekend. So that’s all we did. He would just make us drink a whole bunch and not let us use the bathroom. And he…it wasn’t just peeing ourselves. He wanted…he wanted us to talk about it. So he’d ask ‘What’s wrong?’ or ‘Do you need something, recruit?’ and we’d have to say that we had to pee or that we were going or stuff like that. If we didn’t answer or if we said something he didn’t like, he’d use the wooden paddle on us. So we had to…describe…everything.” Cami didn’t say anything, but she pulled a tissue out of her purse and passed it across the counter. Damien sniffled and wiped his nose. “We tried so many things.” Damien’s voice was like gelatin, thick and shaking. “And we never knew what he was going to do. Sometimes, we’d ask to go to the bathroom, and he would let us, but then he’d block the toilet and wouldn’t let us use it. Sometimes he’d act real mad that we had an accident, calling us babies saying that he could never let recruits in the fraternity who couldn’t keep their pants dry. But then sometimes…” Damien crumpled up the tissue and swiped at both of his eyes, but he was crying freely now. “Sometimes, he’d, like, comfort us, and say it was OK and we tried really hard to hold it, and he wasn’t gonna get mad as us for having a l-little a-a-accident.” Cami’s jaw was clenched so hard, she thought she’d crack a tooth. This was the Stanford Prison Experiment on steroids. This was the height of sadism. Although it definitely explained Damien’s odd narration earlier, it hurt to hear what he’d been put through. “At first, I just thought it was weird,” Damien continued, “but after a few days, I was so tired and sore and embarrassed that I started to cry, and then I couldn’t stop, and this other guy and me, we were just so tired and we never knew what to expect.” Drawing in a raggedy breath, Damien shrugged again, brushing off the hard part of the story. “I didn’t pledge, obviously. I don’t think the other guy did, either, but I don’t know. I barely made it through the semester. I was just hazy and off and confused. My GPA tanked, so I dropped out. I did online classes in the summer and fall before transferring here last year.” Damien finally looked up. His eyes were red and glistening, but the tears had stopped falling for now. “I really am sorry about today. I’m sorry I was weird and just kept saying weird stuff. I…I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like I knew it wasn’t the same and I wasn’t back in the frat house, but I didn’t know, because it was the first time since…” He trailed off and sniffed again, lowering his head. Cami gave him a moment before she decided it was her turn to speak. “I’m so sorry he did that to you,” she said simply. “No one deserves that kind of treatment.” Damien nodded in acknowledgement. “Damien, please believe me when I say you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything that was hurtful or on purpose, and Mom – Donna – and I just want to make sure you’re OK.” Picking distractedly at his nails, Damien nodded earnestly. “I’m fine,” he promised. “I went to therapy and stuff, and I know all that, and it helps. I’m just…” He paused, lip trembling again. “I’ve been really careful since then, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I…like I was gonna wet my pants, so then today was just…” He hesitated before glancing up at Cami. “I was scared,” he admitted. “It’s not like I think you or Donna are gonna be mean to me, but I didn’t know, and it’s not like it’s OK to have an accident in a stranger’s car, anyway.” “Damien, I know you don’t know me,” Cami acknowledged, “and I know that just trusting that everything is going to be OK probably isn’t going to happen. But I promise you that you’re safe here, and Mom and I will do whatever we can to take care of you.” Damien’s mouth curled upwards, almost imperceptibly, but then he frowned. “If…” His voice caught, and his face flushed. “It’s still OK if I say here?” “Of course,” Cami assured him. “Then…” Damien gripped his hands together. “I might…” He looked up, embarrassed, but Cami’s face was open and encouraging. “When…that week at the frat house,” Damien murmured quickly, “I…I started having problems for awhile, and it stopped, but after today, I don’t know…” He took a deep breath, trying to loosen the tight feeling in his chest. “Imightwetthebed,” he mumbled, then glanced up again, trying to read Cami’s face at this last admission. Cami felt her heart constrict with overwhelming sympathy, but she just smiled gently. “That’s not a problem, Damien,” she promised. “If it happens, it happens. We can help you clean up.” Damien let out a deep sigh, his whole body sinking in relief. “Thanks, Cami.” He straightened his shoulders, looking exhausted. He rose off the bar stool and bent down to grab his duffle bag. “I think I’m gonna go to my room, then.” Cami smiled and reopened her laptop. “Sounds good. We’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.” Nodding, Damien smiled a bit sheepishly and walked out. Cami inhaled deeply and gazed out the window. The snow had tapered off a bit, unlikely to do any more damage today.
  22. Sapphire3619

    malefemale Study Session

    Hello! I hope you're all having a wonderful start to summer (or winter, depending on where you are). Somehow, it's nearly July, so I thought I'd throw down another story before the entire academic summer goes by without me writing anything. Enjoy! *** “I’ll just be in the library.” “I know.” “I’ll have my phone with me.” “I know you will.” Amber looked back and forth at the slightly odd exchange between Fletcher and his roommate, Louis. She’d come over for a study session with Fletcher, but Louis was acting more like an anxious parent, leaving his child without a babysitter for the first time. Like the two men, Amber was a first-year law student. She’d moved to the city by herself to start law school, so she didn’t have any built-in acquaintances. Luckily, the intense scholarly demands of law school made it easy – even necessary – to build academic relationships, and, within the first few weeks of the semester, Amber had found herself in a study group with the men of Apartment 11H. Amber had instantly gravitated toward Fletcher. He was smart, kind, and, overall, quite different from the daddy’s-money, fourth-of-their-name type guys who seemed disproportionately represented in their class. When he’d suggested a one-on-one study date, Amber hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Louis, on the other hand, was nothing like his roommate, at least in Amber’s opinion. While Fletcher was easygoing and quick to smile, Louis was just…big. More than once, Amber had thought of Louis as a troll or ogre or something. Not because he was particularly ugly or brutish, but he was definitely a man of few words. Physically, he was huge – nearly six and a half feet tall and built more like a competitive strongman than a lawyer. He was the last person Amber would label as “friendly,” and he never seemed to respond to any of her conversational overtures. He really just came off as a jerk. She was convinced Louis hated her. Maybe he hated everyone. So it was all the more bemusing to see him speak to Fletcher as if being in separate buildings was somehow concerning. “We’re just going over our contributions for Legal Writing, so I shouldn’t be more than two hours.” Louis hoisted his bag over his shoulder and put his hand on the doorknob, but still seemed reluctant to leave. “Sounds good, man,” Fletcher responded. He smiled at Amber. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing toward the couch, “I’m just gonna grab my laptop.” Amber smiled back, but Fletcher was already headed down the hallway. When Amber turned, she nearly gasped – Louis had stepped away from the door and was standing uncomfortably close. Before Amber could react, he shoved a piece of paper into her hands. “Here’s my number,” he muttered, clearly not wanting Fletcher to hear. “Text me if…if Fletcher needs anything.” Amber quirked an eyebrow, but Louis sounded completely earnest. “Um…okay? Am I missing something? Why wouldn’t Fletcher text you himself?” She was unnerved by Louis’s behavior, but she, too, kept her voice quiet. Louis hesitated, then shook his head as if physically trying to shake off the intensity of his demand. “Fletch wasn’t feeling too well last night,” he said, not quite meeting Amber’s gaze. “I just want to be able to help if he gets sick.” The oddly intense moment was broken by the sounds of Fletcher returning from his room. Before Amber could even open her mouth to ask more questions, Louis was already out the door, calling “See you later” to his roommate. “Ready for a deep dive into Torts?” Fletcher grinned, apparently unaware of Louis’s surreptitious plea. Amber mirrored Fletcher’s movements, taking out her laptop and notes, but she wasn’t quite ready to focus on emotional distress or assault and battery. “So…how long have you and Louis known each other?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. “Lou?” Fletcher didn’t even look up as he rifled through his notes. “Since college. Freshman year.” “And you both ended up here?” Amber pressed gently. Fletcher half-shrugged. “We both knew we wanted to go into law, so we helped each other study, and we both got in.” Which left Amber with no more immediate avenues for questioning. This was the top law school in the state, so it wasn’t exactly a mystery as to why both men decided to accept their offer of admittance. But she wasn’t ready to let the subject drop just yet. “He said you weren’t feeling well last night,” she said, slightly less casual. “Are you OK to study?” Fletcher’s hesitation would have passed without notice, had Amber’s question been completely innocent, but she definitely caught the half-second pause before Fletcher brushed off the question. “Oh, yeah,” he answered, physically waving away the question, “I must’ve eaten some leftovers that were too old or something. No big deal.” He looked up at Amber and grinned. “Ready for some Garratt v. Dailey, or do you have any more questions about my roommate?” Called out (albeit kindly), Amber felt her face flush. “Sorry. Just a little overeager to get to know people.” That part, at least, was honest. Being new in town wasn’t easy. Chill as ever, Fletcher moved on without teasing Amber any further. Amber chose to believe that the subject was dropped. The two of them settled in, poring over case law and prior statutes. Fletcher was naturally smart, but Amber had a knack for law and reason. Together, they were an excellent match for studying, both helping each other understand the breadth and intricacies of one of the less-entertaining L1 courses. After about an hour, Amber sat back and rolled her neck. “Ugh. This is great, but I can only take so much case law at one time. Is the bathroom down there?” She pointed down the hall. “Yeah, second door on the left.” Amber smiled in thanks, stretching her arms overhead as she stood up. She went to the bathroom, pleased with how the study date was going. Yes, they were learning a lot, but she was also enjoying her time with Fletcher. Their conversation was easy, and she really felt like he could be her first real friend here. If only his roommate wasn’t so unpleasant… Amber washed her hands and walked back out to the front room. She saw Fletcher leaning forward, elbows on his knees, clenching and unclenching his fists. “You OK?” Amber asked, more concerned than she would have been, had she not heard Louis’s warning. Fletcher sat up, an inscrutable look replaced almost instantly by a tired smile. “Ready for some more work,” he claimed. “That’s what we signed up for, right?” “Ha!” Amber couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Fletcher was right – they both knew law school would be exhausting. She mentally chastised herself for being paranoid. They returned to their pages and pages of judicial decisions and precedent. Amber was laser-focused, taking copious notes, both digital and hand-written. She was determined to do well on their next exam. For another half hour, Amber talked through the required readings, not noticing that Fletcher was contributing less and less to the conversation. “So, using Summers v. Tice, pharmaceutical companies have been held liable for in-“ Amber cut herself off at the sound of a clattering pen. She looked up to see Fletcher’s pen on the floor and its owner’s hand shaking. “Fletcher?” It took Amber a second to fully drag her focus from the definition of intentional action, but when she did, she saw that Fletcher’s skin had taken on an ashen tone and a sheen of sweat. His hands were trembling, and he made no movement to reach for the dropped pen. “Fletcher?” Amber repeated, her voice rising. “Are…are you OK? Can I…” Fletcher inhaled, his breath shaky. “I…” he breathed. “I think I need to lay down.” “OK!” Amber, an experienced babysitter, automatically adopted a cheerful-yet-calm tone, as much to try to keep herself from freaking out as anything else. “Do you want to just-“ She gestured toward the couch, but Fletcher cut her off. “I think…I should go to me room,” he ground out, sounding very much like he was using every last ounce of energy to speak normally. He leaned forward, and Amber stood up help him off his feet. He didn’t argue as she braced her hand under his elbow. She could feel him trembling even under the obvious tension of his muscles as he worked to hold himself upright. They shuffled toward the bedroom in silence. Amber’s thoughts ricocheted around her mind, a mix of trying to understand what was going on and trying to decide what to do In Fletcher’s pleasantly tidy room, Amber helped guide him toward his bed. With a shaky hand, Fletcher reached down and drew back the covers before dropping onto the bed with what was probably considerably less grace than he would have liked. “Can I…” Amber watched as Fletcher drew the covers up to his chin, his eyes already closed. “Can I get you anything?” “No,” Fletcher breathed, not opening his eyes. “I’m just gonna rest.” The last words were all but slurred, murmured in a weary exhale. Amber was nearly convinced that he was asleep before he finished speaking. She stared down at him for a second before slowly reaching into her pocket. She stepped out of the room before pulling out her room. Even though she was certain Fletcher was asleep (or at least incapable of stopping her), she still felt weird texting a grown man’s roommate in front of him to – what, tattle? Give a medical update? Regardless, Amber was unnerved enough by Fletcher’s sudden crash that she knew her best option was to follow Louis’s orders. Hey, it’s Amber. Fletcher got all shaky and he’s in bed now. Idk what else to do. The response dots appeared within seconds. I’m coming back now. 15 minutes. Stay with him and let me know if anything changes. If Amber had been expecting comfort, this wasn’t it. She could practically feel Louis’s worry through the words on the screen. Clearly, Louis wasn’t surprised by her text – what was going on here? Of course, she didn’t expect to know everything about Fletcher just a few weeks into the semester, but whatever this was seemed pretty important. Drawing in a breath, Amber straightened her shoulders, put her phone back into her pocket, and walked back into Fletcher’s room. The details didn’t matter right now; if Fletcher needed to be watched over until Louis returned, then that was what she would do. There was already a chair next to Fletcher’s bed, one she hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t odd, exactly – plenty of people had chairs in their rooms – but, in light of the past 10 minutes, Amber wondered if this chair was explicitly for Louis to watch over Fletcher while he slept. Amber settled herself into the chair. For the first thirty seconds, she sat up straight, staring at Fletcher’s sleeping form without blinking. After a half-minute of even breathing, though, she decided that Fletcher didn’t need quite that level of attentiveness and relaxed her posture a bit. Ten minutes later, as Amber was mentally planning what she would ask Louis when he returned, Fletcher started to move. Amber sat upright, one hand already gripping her phone. She didn’t speak, not wanting to wake him, but she watched Fletcher writhed slightly, leaning his head back and forth. After a minute, his eyes opened, wet, red, and scared. “Fletcher?” Amber said softly. “Fletcher, it’s OK.” Fletcher’s head turned on the pillow just enough so that he could look at the source of the voice. Instead of relaxing upon seeing Amber’s face, however, he teared up more. All of Amber’s forced-logic calm evaporated. “What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from squeaking. “Fletcher, what do you need?” Instead of responding, Fletcher just moaned. Well, it was kind of a moan. A weak, pained sigh that Amber correctly took to mean he couldn’t speak. “It’s OK,” Amber repeated, wholly unsure if that was true. “You’re OK.” Fletcher whined quietly, pitifully. It was as if he’d been tranquilized, and the only part of his body he was capable of moving was his head, which he was shaking back and forth slowly. Amber was now on her feet, staring down at her miserable classmate. He gazed back up at her, silently pleading. But she could tell for what. “Are you hurt?” she asked, knowing the question was futile. Clearly, if Fletcher was capable of moving or speaking, he would have by this point. He was only whining though, looking increasingly distressed. “I’m sorry,” Amber pleaded, totally at a loss. “Louis is coming, he’s on his way.” Fletcher’s eyes widened for a second, but then his face crumpled, and he actually started to cry, tears streaming sideways from the outer corners of his eyes. “Fletch!” This time, Amber did gasp at the sound of Louis’s voice from the hallway. “In here!” she called, relieved. She took a step back as Louis strode forcefully into the room, not quite sprinting. He didn’t even look at Amber; he just stepped next to the bed and looked down at Fletcher, assessing the situation. “It’s OK,” Louis promised, in a voice more gentle than Amber would have ever thought possible. “You’re OK. I’m here.” Fletcher’s whine was different this time – broken instead of desperate. Tears poured down the sides of his face as he gazed up at his towering friend. Louis reached down and stroked Fletcher’s hair, then abruptly turned toward Amber. “I’ve got this. You can go.” Amber didn’t hesitate; she walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. She made it all the way to the front room before she slumped on the couch, experiencing an adrenaline crash disproportionate to the actual length of the event. Back in the bedroom, Fletcher was still crying, though not as hard. “It’s OK, man,” Louis soothed. “It’ll be OK. She doesn’t know. She didn’t see anything.” Fletcher squeezed his eyes shut, pressing out another stream of tears. Louis sighed. There was only so much comforting he could do. Now, he had to focus on more functional things. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly. Louis pulled back the blankets to reveal the wet patch that he already knew would be there. The stain glistened around Fletcher’s lower half, and Louis could have kicked himself. If he’d just been a few minutes earlier… “It’s OK,” he repeated, gently easing Fletcher to a sitting position. “We’ll just get you cleaned up, and then you can go back to sleep. I’m here.” Supporting most of Fletcher’s weight, Louis guided his friend to the connected bathroom. It wasn’t quite a well-honed system, but neither was this the first time the duo had done this particular dance. Louis tried to speed things up this time, though, knowing the speed of Fletcher’s crash meant that he was going to need even more rest. Instead of a full shower, then, Louis just propped his roommate up on the shower chair, stripped off his wet clothes, and wiped him down with a soapy washcloth. Back in the bedroom, he situated a towel-wrapped Fletcher on the chair by the bed while he changed the bedsheets. The whole process took only about ten minutes, but Louis was exhausted by the time Fletcher was back in his clean, dry bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow. Drained, Louis gathered the wet sheets in his arms and exited the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. He didn’t bother to sigh when he saw Amber still sitting on the couch. She straightened expectantly when he walked out, but he didn’t acknowledge her at first. He just walked past to put the sheets the in washer. Amber heard the washing machine start, then the sound of water in the kitchen – Louis washing his hands. She waited patiently. At first, she’d stayed because she was too overwhelmed to move. Then, after she’d had a minute to collect herself, she decided that she wanted answers and had steeled herself to stay. Now, seeing Louis in front of her, she wasn’t quite as sure about that decision. The hulking man sat down at the opposite corner of the couch. After a second, he shifted slightly so that he was turned toward Amber. He didn’t speak, but he stared, silently daring her to ask her questions. Amber drew in a deep breath. “Is…” she started. “Is he…” Louis’s stare was harsh, protective. Amber knew that if she asked the wrong question, she wouldn’t get any answers at all. She pressed her lips together, trying to sort out the thoughts and emotions of the afternoon. Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, she opened her mouth again. “Did I hurt him?” Louis paused, then visibly relaxed, if only slightly. “No,” he sighed. “You actually did really well.” Relieved, Amber slumped back into the couch. “Good.” She looked back up at Louis. She still wanted to know more, but she didn’t want to press too much. “If…is there anything I could do next time? Maybe to prevent…” She trailed off, not knowing what exactly it was she’d be preventing. Louis hesitated again, considering his answer. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s…Fletch doesn’t always appreciate suggestions to slow down and take it easy.” Amber mulled that answer for a moment. So whatever it was that had happened was somewhat perpetuated by stress and hard work. Louis was telling her that she could keep an eye out for Fletcher pushing himself, but ultimately, it was up to Fletcher to decide whether or not he would relax. “So you’ve known him for a while, then?” she asked, switching tactics. Louis nodded, apprehensively, anticipating where this line of questioning was going. “Has he…always…” “Look,” Louis stared at Amber, not bothering to let her finish eking out a question. “I’m not going to give you details. It’s up to Fletcher to decide how much of his own personal information he wants to share.” “No, I-“ Amber held up her hands, fending off the not-entirely-inaccurate implied accusation. “I know.” Louis sighed again. He knew this was bound to happen, eventually. (Well, not quite this.) He’d tried to talk to Fletcher about pacing himself and what to say to classmates if they ever noticed anything, but neither of the roommates had been prepared for just how strenuous law school was going to be. He knew Amber was unlikely to be satisfied with no explanation at all, but he also knew that he didn’t want to share anything without Fletcher’s permission. “You take care of him.” Amber’s matter-of-fact statement interrupted Louis’s stream of consciousness, and his first reaction was pure defensiveness. “I don’t…” he sputtered, desperate to protect his roommate. “I’m not a nurse. He’s not an invalid.” And yet, even as he spoke, Louis was unsure of how much weight his words would carry. Amber had only known then for a short time, and she’d just seen Fletcher collapse and cry, and, even if she hadn’t seen it, she had to have figured out that he had an accident. “We’re friends,” Louis insisted sincerely. “We met in college, and we were friends, and when…when things started happening, I wanted to help.” He looked up at Amber, tired and deflated. “That’s all.” It was easily the most emotion Amber had ever seen from Louis, not that that was saying much. She felt for him; he clearly cared deeply for Fletcher, and, whatever the two of them were dealing with, it wasn’t her place to know just yet. “OK,” she said after several moments. “OK.” She reached for her bag, but turned back to Louis as she stood. “Tell Fletcher…” she said quietly, “tell Fletcher I hope he feels better soon. And tell him I’ll send him my notes once I get them all organized.” Louis nodded slowly, too tired to stand and see her out the door. “And…” Amber paused, hoping this next bit came out right. “I won’t…I won’t tell anyone. Anything. Please don’t worry.” Louis seemed to melt into the couch, nearly delirious with relief that he hadn’t hoped for. Amber gave him a small smile, then walked out the door, each leaving the other with opinions quite different than how they’d began the afternoon.
  23. Jailor Eckman

    female Request 018

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Here is the request I did for @AkenoSama, featuring their OC!

    © AkenoSama (Character & Concept)

  24. YellowSnow129

    Panty And Stocking Accident 2019

    From the album: My Pictures

    Lori had to go badly ☹️
  25. YellowSnow129

    Incredibly Embarrassed Panty Shots 2019

    From the album: My Pictures

    Here are panty shots.