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View File Leaking During Anal I while back I posted about how I was fascinated by (and very much turned on watching) people leaking during anal sex. I found a bunch of these and thought I'd share them. *** Caution - these contain sex! *** Enjoy Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 07/19/2019 Category Peeing  

I am curious, are there woman out there that sometimes leak a bit into their panties. This could be due to desperation, sneezing or even because you just like it. If this happens what do you do, do you remove your panties, do you just dry them as best you can and keep them on or do you maybe line the inside with toilet paper? Please let us know how you handle the situation.

View File Chehire leaks on a couch Cheshire wets her diaper and leaks on the couch *side note: Chshire deleted for scatshop and clips4sale site. There will be more of her Submitter melikai Submitted 07/07/2019 Category Desperation Clothing Diaper  

Does OmoDotOrg contain any giggle-circle art or stories (preferably college, recent graduate or young professional characters)? By giggle circle I mean those (almost always female?) gatherings in which giggling continues until everyone leaks (Or some percent, or someone floods or whatever constitutes completion). It might be a thing in itself, or with watching DVDs or part of a sleep over. I suppose it could be around a beach or camp fire. One no-leak panty company has a statement implying one in four young women sometimes leaks when laughing, coughing or sneezing. That sounds high to me. But what do I know? The giggle-circle format I’ve heard of allows no humiliation. (Heard of via a male college friend whose finance participated.) If uncomfortable without leaking a participant can take a bathroom break. Participants must respect each other and not divulge other’s identities, and so on. Any giggle-circle or similar art or stories here? Any participate in a similar activity?

Small introduction (the story is below so skip this first paragraph if you’re the tl;dr type): i wrote about this a very long time ago and the story got lost. This happened in my freshman year of college when me and my girlfriend at the time were 19. I remember always wanting to see a genuine accident, and for some reason she agreed to hold it. The rules were easy: drink enough to where you have to go but not too much. Wait a little while until it gets bad, but not too bad, and then we will hangout. The other was that she has to hold it and try to hold it no matter what even if it starts to come out. Last, I’m not supposed to know when so that it seems more real. Her roommates were gone for the entire week so she had a room to herself and invited me over after drinking quite a few liquids when we ate at a dining hall. Story description starts: To start this story I had just gotten back from lunch and played a game for about a half hour. Sarah (fake name for the real girl) had texted me but I didn’t pay any mind to it. I didn’t yet know that she had planned it for that day. I showered got out and saw more texts. The first was, “hey, wanna come over?” Which was the one I ignored. The next three while I showered were, “you may want to get over here soon.” “This is getting quite urgent” “come over here or I’m going to have to go before you’re here.” Now me not knowing what she planned I didn’t know where she was going, but I texted back and headed over. I was greeted to her in a green t-shirt, and slightly dark blue jeans (not too dark). Her underwear she had on were light blue cotton panties. To give a small description she was about 5’4, had blonde wavy hair, blue eyes, and was skinny/slender. She had about B cup breasts and her but was round and protruded slightly but was not voluptuous. She was good looking. The real story begins: So, after I got there she stated, “I was really starting to have to pee and would’ve had to go if you didn’t get here. It’s getting bad.” I got excited at the idea and proceeded to follow her to her room. She locked the door. She began to pace a little around her room until she stood still at the corner edge of her bed with her legs crossed. She had tried this before and left before it got bad, but even then she had stayed in one spot for a bit and crossed her legs to hold it while it got bad. She had told me while she had crossed her legs that it’s a comfortable position for her so that she doesn’t jolt her bladder. After a few minutes she began to put her left hand on her crotch while crossing her legs (she’s a lefty) and started to state that it was getting worse. She kept trying to check her phone to text people or check Facebook so she’d keep her hand in between her legs and would walk over, cross her legs and move her legs with her knee arched in and would switch legs, and then would proceed to walk back to the same spot and cross her legs again. I could see occasionally she would begin to squeeze a tiny bit harder with her hand. She began to walk slower to check her phone and stated it wasn’t getting a bit worse. At this point it starts getting even more interesting. She seemed a bit more frozen in place and looked at me and asked, “how am I suppose to check my phone? This got really bad” and then breathed a little sharply, increased the pressure of her hand and leg slightly and looked at me. I stated, “well why not use both hands? The pressure should subside a tiny bit, then you can go over and check your phone and position yourself just like you are here.” So she put her right hand over her left and uncrossed her legs and walked over to her phone (it was about 6 feet away from where she stood so not far) and did a small dance that looked like a jog on the way over and giggled a little at what she called her own ridiculousness. She then did the same thing walking back over. She hung her head down for a second and squeezed a little harder clearly starting to feel the urgency. She told me she can’t believe she’s still holding it and felt her own bladder then told me to feel it. It was as hard as a rock almost to her belly button. That bladder was full and she looked like the pressure was intense. She crossed her leg again and stated she couldn’t really move too much anymore. As this continued she began to hunch a little more as the pressure increased. She starting having to switch hands as the pressure she was using to hold herself turned her knuckles white and when she switched hands her legs relaxed from what looked like an iron locked grip on each other. She began to hunch over slightly in a way that I could see were slight bladder spasms and her eyes would squint as she clenched and her breathing would become harder during those times. One time in particular she bent forward suddenly and exclaimed “ow ow ow!!” She had bent so suddenly she got a back cramp. I had hugged her to give back support and massaged the cramp. She said, “this is the worst I’ve had to go in my whole life” and recounted some stories of where she’s felt a bladder spasm like this but always went when they weren’t as intense because she would read and be so into the book. She then went back to staying slightly hunched over and switching her hand once in a while. The best way I could describe this is that over the course of this entire time she began to look more like a cork that was going to explode. Her leg was locked in place and her hands were white with the pressure she was putting on herself. She was giving it her all to hold it. I could tell that it was getting worse and worse. She was more quiet and stiff in her position besides her body’s movements. Her breathing began to get harsh as she bent forward again with her hand turning white. She looked at me and stated, “This isn’t going to work much longer.” She then bent forward again and I could hear her strained breathing. I asked if a little had already come out and if her underwear was wet at all and all she’s could do was shake her head slightly yes. No leaks were visible but very tiny ones had happened. I took a few steps back because I wanted to watch her whole body react to the inevitable. She stated that she literally could not move and was locked in a hunched over position. She then gasped a little and in the in between switched her hand back to her left (clearly trying to get the max pressure relief from her dominant hand) and then stayed in that hunched over position. Then she exclaims “Are you kidding me?!? I already stopped it twice!!” And I could see a drop starting to come from the back of her pants. She kept her legs crossed very tightly and continued to put pressure on her hand. It stopped for a second and then it spread more until it covered her from her butt to her feet. A puddle had started to form at her feet. Up until that point she’s kept her hand hard pressed trying to stop it. “Ew ew ew!” She exclaimed as she removed her hand clearly losing control. Then she said “I give up” because it had already come out and she wasn’t able to stop it. I thought she would’ve leaked once with how hard she was trying but I guess all that effort lead to an inevitable soft explosion instead. It didn’t come out too violently as she had tried to hold through the flood but a lot did come out in the end. She stated that she tried her absolute hardest but that it was unstoppable. She took off her pants revealing her soaked underwear and she then left and took a shower. Our afterstory remains ours after that. The last part of the deal was that after she actually succeeded in doing this then I would too to keep things “even” in a sense. My own experience was a bit interesting as well. Let me know what you think! I haven’t shared anything in a very long time, but I hope this was worth the read. I tried being descriptive even in the parts where not too much occurred. Signing Off, Cool Bro.

View File JAV - Teacher Leaking School accidents by teachers. ***Contains Sex and other Porn Stuff *** Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 06/17/2019 Category Public wetting Clothing  

I diabolical janitor has locked the washroom and given drugs to these lovely ladies as they work together on a project. They each get super desperate, leak into their panties, before rushing to the toilet. Only to find it locked! They then find a 'private' place to pee, only to be accosted by the janitor, with whom they have sex. https://www5.javmost.com/DOCP-145/ Yeah, in case anyone was wondering, I had a day off work and am super horny!

These lovely Japanese women love giving blow jobs, so much that they leak into their panties, sometimes rather extensively! https://www5.javmost.com/HUNTA-555/ It's more than just lady juices, some of them (most/all) are clearly faked or pee, but it's super adorable! I love the idea of leaving a little puddle under my after giving a good blow job 🙂

View File JAV - HUNTA-555 - Leaking During Blowjob Title says it all 🙂 Super adorable! Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 05/21/2019 Category Female videos Clothing  

Hey guys! So I finally watched Endgame after it came out, there was some desperation and wetting involved in it. Right after Endgame came out I wanted to get a ticket as soon as I could, but the movies were so jammed with people that I could only watch it on Monday. I planned to watch it right after dinner at about 7.30pm. The film lasted for 3 hours and it will end at 10.30pm. Description phrase: I am very short, about 5’2 and 95 lbs in weight. Long flowing blonde hair. I brought a jacket in my bag, and dressed myself in a bra, white shirt, panties and a pair of micro jeans to look pretty. (I was so stupid to forget how cold the cinema can be) At about 5.45pm I put on my makeup, peed and left the house. Entering the mall at about 6 I immediately went to Mcdonalds and ordered their upsized burger(I can’t remember which one, sorry) a large coke and some fries and began to eat. It was then I noticed my need to pee. It was mild at about 3/10 and I ignored it and finished my food and that large cup of sprite. I was still thirsty and ordered another coke. Big mistake: I should have bought it during the movie. I finished all these at about 6.30pm. There was still an hour before the movie began so I went window shopping, trying out the dresses and skirts they had on sale. Time passes really fast when we do whatever we enjoy, right? In a flash it was already 7.15, and I put down the clothes to make way for the cinema. As usual I wanted to get myself a large drink (another big mistake) and some popcorn. In line I noticed the urge to pee was stronger at about 6/10. This is where I normally would start getting a little squirmy and look for a bathroom. I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together in line to help me hold it. Finally it was my turn to order. “Large coke and popcorn please” I said as I fidgeted slightly behind the counter. I checked my time after getting my stuff, it was about 7.25, I still had time for a bathroom break. I shuffled there and relieved myself in preparation for the movie. On hindsight, I realised that at that point of time I had 2 drinks circulating through my system, and another large one was about to come in. My bladder was going to fill up very quickly. I carried my popcorn and drink and sank into my seat, getting ready for the 3 hour long movie. I had just relieved myself so I was relatively confident that I would get through the whole thing without having to leave for the bathroom. I crunched some popcorn and gulped my drink, having nothing to do but watch the boring advertisements roll on. Finally the movie began. To my astonishment I have already gulped down about half my bottle of drink. Nothing too interesting happened to my bladder… UNTIL an hour and a half into the movie. My need for the bathroom was 7/10, I crossed my legs tighter together as I was already sitting crossed legged trying not to squirm, while hugging myself tightly because of the cold. So there I was, a small and weak girl sitting in the middle of a cinema with a rapidly filling bladder and shivering from the cold. I put on my jacket to protect those bare arms. To be honest I was astonished how my need has grown so fast, I then realised the amount of liquid in my system: 3 large drinks in total. If it was any other short movie I would have made it through all fine, but this was a way more interesting and longer one, which prevented me from running to the bathroom. With no choice, I uncrossed my legs and crossed them the other way, pressing my thighs tightly together. About 45 minutes left I was really desperate for the bathroom, my need was at a 8.5/10 and I was REALLY squirming in my seat trying not to leak. I finished my drink by then, and was really starting to regret it. I had a hand firmly between my tightly crossed legs blocking my pee hole trying not to leak, and bouncing my legs up down left right frantically. Then the first leak came: my pee hole opened momentarily only to be closed by my instincts and hands milliseconds later, but that was enough for some amount of pee to gush out of my bladder, dampening my panties. I felt a warm feeling in my crotch area. I assessed the damage using my hands, the wet spot was not showing through on my jeans, but it was definitely wet inside. I continued my little discreet pee pee dance within my seat, trying to delay the leaks and holding my bladder which was begging for release. My need shot up to a 9, occasionally spiking onto 10. With 10 minutes to go I was bouncing like a mad girl trying to hold back the 3 large drinks I foolishly had. I was constantly checking the time to see how close I was to relief, as my need was at a solid 10. Both my hands were buried deep within my crotch grasping at my pee hole trying to stop the leaks, but they kept coming. I was literally dribbling every few seconds. By then the wet spot was already visible on my micro jeans as I felt my crotch cold and wet. My crotch felt really cold but I still had to hold on. I did not know how I got through that 10 minutes without completely losing it in my seat. The lights came back up and I could examine my wet spot more clearly. I blushed in embarrassment as I noticed my butt was wet as well, the front of my jeans were certainly a darker shade of the usual blue. Coming back to my pee dance I grabbed my crotch desperately losing spurts into my panties and some drops even soaking my seat. I planned to run right to the bathroom after the post-credit scene I was looking forward to. As I spurted more and more I watched the credits scroll by, but another 10 minutes passed without a scene. I then noticed there was no end-credit scene and why the person next to me left so early. Carrying my empty drink and popcorn carton I stood up, and my pee hole immediately opened and I lost control for a full 2 seconds. I bent forward with a damp hand in my crotch stopping the flow and feeling a warm stream cascade down my thighs and legs. I took my jacket and hobbled to the bathroom. I really could not hold it anymore. There was no queue to the ladies, because of my stupidity to wait for the non-existent end credit scene. I rushed into the cubicle, a hand in my crotch fighting a losing battle while the other locking the door and hanging my jacket on the door. With the toilet so close to me my need increased ten-fold. Shaking my tightly crossed legs I unbuttoned my jeans, losing another spurt, and tried to unzip it. With me being so close to relief, the vice grip of the jeans was not helping, I had to pee really really badly. I tried to unzip it 3 more times and failed, it just wouldn’t budge and stayed there stubbornly. Finally, my tired floodgates opened, and it happened. Transparent liquid gushed out of my body with a loud hissing sound, through my panties, completely destroying the bottom of my micro jeans, and running down my legs. Warmth spread to my legs, my bladder finally found relief after all that torture, just not in the right place. I gasped and moaned in relief quietly and stood there, enjoying the relief. My pee pooled around my legs and ran into the stall next to mine. I really pity the cleaners but what could I do… I then made my way back home. I tied my jacket behind me to cover my glistening butt but my front had a revealing wet spot and was uncovered. On the way back home some people gave me weird stares but nothing too eventful happened. So that was my story! I probably should not drink too much before movies next time. Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! I would be doing other desperation scenes in the future so please stay tuned for that! Kayla

today at the office, I decided to hold all the piss in, while still drinking one large glass of water every 1 h. if the pressure gets too strong, I just go to the toilet and relieve a little bit, without fully undressing. I wear some dark pants so nobody will notice (altough the smell does get through a bit). Currently it's 19:30, and I am still holding, and drinking some more beer. The pictures show my "progress" - enjoy 🙂 Currently I'm at 9/10 again, bladder bulge clearly visible... 15.00 at the office - 4 out of 10 - relieving some pressure: 16.00 at the office - 5 out of 10: 16.00 at the office - stuffing it all back in so nobody notices 17.00 leaving office - 6 out of 10 - relieving some more pressure: 18.00 at the shopping centre - 7.5 out of 10 (had a beer in between) 18.00 at the shopping centre - 7.5 out of 10 - piss flows out 18.30 at the pub - 8.5 out of 10 - clearly visible patch, while having another beer 19.15 - finally home - 9 out of 10

This happened a few years ago at Megacon in Florida. A little background, I am a huge nerd! I love theater, Larp, comics, games, cosplay...everything nerdy just about. This particular day, my fiance and I decided to cosplay as Dark elves/Drow. Basically obsidian black skin, long ears, stark white hair and blood red contacts. He wore a suit of Asian inspired leather armor and I wore a black, silk kimono with pink and red flowers. Underneath, I wore red silky panties with a matching bra and, here is the important part, a black lycra body suit to cover my legs, chest and arms. The rest of my skin was covered in theatrical ben nye black makeup. To toot my own horn we looked pretty damned classy. I tinted my makeup blue so it glittered a bit in the light just to give it that extra extravagant flair~ Anyways I get about halfway through putting on my makeup ( a 4 hour process...yes we are very dedicated to our craft) and I realized that A: I had to pee and B: going without ruining my Kimono (roughly $500 real silk kimono) at the con/ taking off my body suit was going to be hell. Once again, dedicated to my craft I stripped off, peed and carried about my setup. After the makeup I went again for good measure and finished suiting up, knowing full well this was going to be a challenging day. We grabbed breakfast from chick-fil-a in full garb (yes funny looks but they had fun with it) and started the roughly hour commute. The long white wig was already making me a little warm so I chugged my large lemonade and about half of my fiances large sweet tea...Mistake number 1. An hour later we are trying to find parking and I ALREADY have to pee. It wasn't terrible, but I was at the point where I would be looking for a bathroom/ be a little impatient to find a spot. Maybe a 6/10. Fully expecting this and unwilling to undress to pee I held it in excited silence for the convention. Getting in and ticketed took another hour and by then I was at like a 7/10. A little fidgety and getting nervous I wouldn't be able to hold it until we left for the hotel in about 4 hours. But hey, I was a theater kid and a Larper, I had done dumb holds like this before so kept holding it. Mistake #2. I lost my need in the absolute sensory overload that was Megacon that year. So many people taking our photo, so many photos we took, all the swag we purchased and of course I cant go to a con without quaffing at least 3 Ramune sodas...Mistake #3. About an hour before we were scheduled to leave my fiance is feeding me a piece of pocky and I realize...I really have to pee. Like BAD. I crossed my legs under my kimono and thought about my options. I was getting tired, but it was SO FUN being at the con. I didn't want to leave early! I could try to go in the ladies room, but the line was a pain and con restrooms are gross. I really did not want to ruin my kimono with someone else's pee, but what choice did I have then? I made the decision to wait it out and be a big girl. Mistake #4. Over the next hour I passed up several Ramune sodas and got very quiet as I used to do when I was in danger of an accident. I fidgeted my way through the dealers room and one last panel before I realized this wasn't going to work. After giggling at a shadow cast and feeling the tiniest little dribble escape I bolted upright and told my fiance I was going to find the restrooms. I couldn't do it. It was now or never. Either DEFINITELY ruin my kimono and my dignity with my own pee or risk the chance that it was getting ruined by another's pee...The choice seemed obvious to me now. I hobbled trying not to leak over to the public restrooms, which for reference were about 50 yards away and got in the WORST LINE I have ever encountered in my life. It was easily 40 ladies long, each with some kind of huge bag of stuff to deal with or some horrible costume to take off. I knew from previous years that there were only so many stalls in that ladies room. Doing some mental math left me very dubious of my ability to hold it through this line. 5 minutes later the line had gone down to maybe 30 women and I was DESPERATE. Here I was, playing this upper class character at the con literally potty dancing trying not to piss on the floor. There were a few times I considered going outside to the terrace and lifting my kimono out of the way to tinkle through my bodysuit on the grass. Needless to say, shy Etchy back then didn't do so. Each time I thought about it the need got worse and more than once I dribbled into my panties. 20 min after joining the line I was finally in the bathroom proper, not just lined up on the wall outside and I was absolutely shaking. My legs were in a permanent state of locked crossing with my knees bent for extra pressure. I am practicing deep, slow, breathing because to sharp of an inhale or exhale will cause me to start peeing uncontrollably. My arms were stiff near my crotch and my hips were swaying back and forth. It would have been super obvious to anyone looking at me that I was about to piddle myself in front of 10,000 people. It was this that saved me. A girl near the front of the line kept looking back at me whenever I would whimper with a leak or tense harder than normal because a wave was obliterating my resolve. Finally after she became next and I was still 5 girls back she asks me if I want to skip her. This was both the nicest and most embarrassing thing I can think of that anyone in the nerd community has done for me. Ever. All I could do was nod with tears in my eyes as I moved in front of her. A few girls on the way grumbled, but she silenced them with a very angry look. A few minutes and at least two leaks later and FINALLY I was moving slowly into a stall. I quickly doffed my kimono and hanged it up behind me and stared longingly at the toilet, knowing it was going to be a struggle to remove the body suit. I reached up behind me while dancing in place and fiddled with the zipper at the nape of my neck. Suddenly the contortions became a little to much for me and I lost it. Just for a second, but still. I peed full on for a full second. it wasn't a leak. It wasn't a dribble. I peed, for a full second, in my pants. I thought I was gonna lose it right then. I thought about just plopping down in the body suit and going, but I held it. Barely. Finally the zipper was low enough to peel the bodysuit off and down. My panties were soaked. My body suit had streaks down the legs. There were a few drops on the floor. But Good god It was finally time. I yanked my panties down and had the second most blissful pee of my life in that con. I peed for a good minute before it slowed down. Eventually I stopped, and shakily redressed myself, cringing a little at the cold dampness of my panties and body suit. I rejoined my fiance and we enjoyed the con for a bit longer before heading out. All In all i saved the kimono and most of dignity...

Here's another great desperation and wetting video by the lovely Rion on Twitter. https://twitter.com/0o_Rion_o0 twitter Rion grey panties leaking.mp4

View File JAV - DOCP-049 - Very Leaky Housewife Sex Title says much there is to say, but know that this is a lot of squirty, leaky, bed-wetting sexy times with only a little peeing and panty wetting. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 03/17/2019 Category Female videos Clothing  

I apologize for the length of this chapter, and the relative lack of pee stuff in the first part. But I still hope you love this story as much as I do. There is a little gratuitous foot focus, but that's just me. ? Link to Part 4. --------------------------------- It was the strangeness of the bedroom that caused Bethany to stir the next morning. It simply felt different from her old room-- different sounds, smells, the firmness of the mattress. Last night, she had eaten hardly anything at dinner. Now, her stomach’s pangs and growls dashed any hope of going back to sleep. Compounding the discomfort was her heaving bladder. It would not be ignored, but for the moment, grogginess and desire to stay in bed kept their hold on her. Yet another obstacle lay in the temperatures: the air in the room was frigid, while her blankets cocooned her in luxurious warmth. Her half-asleep state encouraged fantasies about easing her discomfort right there. The last time she had wet the bed was third grade. All she remembered was waking up with pajamas full of cold, stale piss stuck to her skin-- little to romanticize. Doing it while awake, though, might be a different story. Not moving at all, feeling the hot stream between her legs swell until it splashed back on itself, tracking the wet patch’s slow creep down her thighs and up her back, even the chance to smell it minutes later-- each of these thoughts brought the promise of bliss. Her tank top and panties were the ones already stinging her nose from a day’s worth of wetting anyway. She writhed and clutched her crotch, moaning upon deciding to do it. Trying to pee lying down at the moment proved to be a lot harder than doing it sitting in the food court chair with an exhausted bladder. After a minute, though, she exhaled, and a stream burst out. Its strength surprised her enough that she reflexively snapped shut again. It was a good start, but now, logic returned to her; totally peeing her bed was a bad idea. She would have been back at square one with her mother questioning her intent. Speaking of her mother, hearing her voice call “Bethany!” up the stairs finally got her to peel back the covers. “Just a minute!” Bethany groaned. There was no way she was going downstairs without relieving herself first. The connected half-bathroom still held a hint of pee-scent in the spots she missed while cleaning. Goosebumps mixed with the freckles on her arms when her cheeks touched the chilly toilet. Still, she sighed. Her stream burbled loudly in the bowl, the sound reverberating out the open door. She would have closed it if she could reach. There was no point to wiping. No way would a little more pee make a difference in the heavily-soiled panties she had already spurted in again. Bethany pulled them up and let the last few drops diffuse into them. The warmth brought a grin. The light from the giant windows downstairs made her squint. Once she recovered, though, the sight to greet her was her mother and grandparents, all hunched over the breakfast table examining a particular piece of mail. “Hey, Beth,” her mother repeated, “Something came for you, from the… RIC Transit Authority?” She handed the envelope over. With furrowed brow, Bethany opened it. A border of green, yellow, and blue stripes, the colors of the Isle of Cress’ flag, decorated the page. The header was the title of the same agency. Sure enough, the island’s transit authority seal was embossed on the stationery as well. On the next line were the words, in block capital letters, NOTICE OF CIVIL INFRACTION Bethany’s heart skipped a beat. It looked serious. “What?” she said, mostly to herself, “What does that even mean?” Her grandma answered, “A civil infraction is like a traffic ticket. Keep reading.” Among the information that followed was the act titled “Defacement of public property” and a check next to “bodily fluids.” The adjacent field showed a penalty of $50. “What?!” Bethany squealed. The shock abated quickly, but the sinking feeling did not. “I kinda got pee on the floor in the airport bathroom, but it was an accident and now they’re giving me a ticket for it. I don’t even have fifty dollars!” She put down the letter and rubbed her temples. “Easy, kiddo,” her grandpa said, rubbing her back, “Your mom told you the people here don’t play around with relieving yourself in the wrong place. No one’s gonna have to pay anything. I’ll tell you what we can do. You just have some breakfast and get cleaned up, then we’ll go down to the courthouse and give ‘em what for. Sound good?” Sniffling while looking back at him, she nodded. Even a breakfast as light as cereal and milk did not go down easily. She should not have had to consider worrying about fines and tickets until she started driving. Trouble with the law remained a terrifying notion. A shower would help her relax. Even if it was in the foreign downstairs “bathroom” which only had a bathtub and shower stall-- sort of the opposite of her room-- the hot water and the prospect of clean clothes were something to look forward to. She had just begun to surrender to the shower’s hot spray when, through the clear glass walls, she looked again at the peed clothes on the floor. Not only did she have no idea what to wear to a courthouse, but other than the tank top and panties way too soiled to put on right after bathing, there was nothing in here for her to wear at all. Not even a spare towel. As if on cue, her grandma opened the door and bustled in, carrying an armload of linens. Bethany turned away, covering her chest and scanty pubic bush. “Grandma! Do you mind?” “Oh, sorry!” she said, “I’ll just put these here then.” She dropped the stack of towels and folded clothes on the counter. With her back turned, she elaborated, “I just remembered you had no towels in here, and your mom and I picked out some clothes for you. Hope they’re okay.” Bethany thanked her for the sweet gesture in a gentler tone. Continentals, dear. Her grandma’s effortless nonchalance, until Bethany made it awkward, got her wondering if she stressed too much about nudity-- especially by Cress standards. Feeling revitalized after the shower, she took her time drying off. The clothes picked out for her were lavender panties, a dark turquoise, long-sleeved knitted shirt that was exceptionally thick and warm, and white skinny jeans. Her grandmother had also brought a black-and-white striped bra. Despite having just begun to need it, the greater coverage of the shirt meant she probably would have forgotten one otherwise. The conservative choices were just as well. Since seeing the letter, getting to hide in any sense was a welcome comfort. Bethany’s white flip-flops were in her bedroom. Or at least, they were once white. The rubber straps still gleamed, but the foam sole had been tinted a dirty yellow. To avoid walking around and carrying the piss-scent with her would probably be better. When the time came to leave, she trusted it would be okay to go without them. The truck smelled only faintly of the past day’s events. The four rode with the windows cracked-- the best compromise between dissipating the odor and not getting a face full of bracing wind much colder than before. Even across from the taller capitol building, the courthouse’s columns loomed. Bethany gripped her mother’s hand. However, pressing forward was her only real choice. She went with the others through the pair of giant doors. Her grandpa did the talking. He led them up to the clerk, letter in hand, and cleared his throat. “Good morning. My granddaughter here got this notice and we’d like to contest the charge.” The clerk took the letter and looked through his bifocals at the details. A minute’s worth of tapping at his computer saw him issue them each a name tag, and a packet of papers to Bethany. “Alright, so you’ll just need to give these papers to the girl in the next room, and she’ll handle the rest.” Bethany thanked him, and they were off. The “next room” was arranged as rows of chairs. A handful of people sat waiting. “Hello,” a soft voice called. A girl about Bethany’s age had approached them with a clipboard. Her most striking feature was the pin-straight auburn hair that draped to her waist in lustrous sheets. Beneath was a lacy white minidress and black flats. “I can take your packet there. There’s snacks and water in that corner, otherwise have a seat anywhere.” Bethany handed it over, and picked a chair. The girl whisked the papers away through the next door. “See, kiddo?” her grandpa said, sitting next to her, “Not so bad.” She grinned weakly back at him. Soon, though, the nerves returned. She attempted to soothe her dry mouth with water in a paper cup, gulping one refill after another until feeling a twinge between her legs. That brought with it an entirely new reason to worry. She returned to her seat, the multiple cups of water now in her stomach a reminder that the bladder problems of yesterday were still not resolved. Here she was challenging it again. I’m not going to pee myself, she resolved. I’m feeling better, and can hold it at least until I see a toilet, if not any longer. Still, she crossed her legs. Twenty minutes passed. Her bladder’s gentle tingling had turned into a mild, but constant press, with occasional swells she strained to resist. At least the girl working here had returned. She plopped down across from Bethany. “Finally a break,” she said, “Mind if I sit here?” Wide-eyed, Bethany agreed. “Not at all.” “Cool.” The girl smiled. When she lifted her arms to move her long locks out of her face, she revealed, alongside the red-brown tufts in her armpits, a name tag. The part Bethany could see read ‘Mary.’ Bethany’s mom and grandparents offered to move so the girls could have some space. Bethany did not even know her, and already thought she was a little strange. However, her family would probably not want to limit her chances of a friend on this remote island. She took the hint and extended her hand. “I’m Bethany.” The girl shook it, replying, “I know.” She giggled, but then clarified, “Saw it on your papers.” Bethany put on a sly grin. “Well, I know your name is Mary. Saw it on your name tag.” Even if the interaction was basic, it kept her mind off her bladder. “Kind of,” she said, “I go by Mary Ellen. ‘Mary’ just sounds so… plain.” “I guess it is,” Bethany said, trying not to bounce her knees, “So you work here every day?” “For now, I guess,” Mary Ellen explained. “Three days a week during the summer. I won’t have to worry about volunteer hours, like, ever.” “Honestly I haven’t thought about it at all,” Bethany confessed. The ease at which she had begun to share with Mary Ellen surprised her. “I lived in the U.S. until yesterday and I’m still just working on surviving.” Mary Ellen giggled again. “Welcome then. I’d say we’re a weird island, but I was born here, so I say everywhere else is weird. Speaking of which, don’t people, like, never go barefoot in America?” She looked pointedly at Bethany’s lack of shoes. “Yeah, pretty much,” Bethany said, curling her feet under the chair, “One thing that’s cool here is that shoes aren’t as big a deal.” Mary Ellen lifted her feet off the floor and smiled. “Actually, the only place I won’t go barefoot is in here. They clean every day, but I’m still scared of what’s on the floor because you see all sorts of gross people.” Bethany curled her feet under the chair. “I would have worn mine today if I hadn’t--never mind.” She stopped herself from mentioning her accident. “It’s slow today, so don’t worry about it.” Mary Ellen glanced around before speaking again. “I did get a glance at your papers, by the way.” “Oh?” Bethany said. The comment could have meant anything. “You’ll get to see the judge.” A flash of nerves hit her. “What am I supposed to say?” “It’s going to be a bench trial, which means no lawyers or jury or any of that stuff to worry about. Just tell him the truth. Was it an accident?” Bethany scoffed. “Of course it was an accident! Who pees on the floor?” Her bladder lunged, making her cross her legs again. It was going to be her for the second time soon. Mary Ellen shrugged. “It could happen.” “If you say so.” Mary Ellen pulled out her phone and rose from her chair. “Ooh, I should probably check back. It’s been nice to meet you though! Good luck.” Bethany waved her off, returning to her family for another twenty minutes. By now, the increasing pressure in Bethany’s bladder meant crossing her legs was beginning not to be enough. At all times there was a pee drop making a hotspot in her crotch, ready to escape at the first lapse in effort. She had let the drop-- once or twice, much more than a drop-- go several times. The leaks made a cooling line in her panties down to the seat. With her legs closed, she worried little about who might see, and dribbled with relative abandon. It was perhaps better to let out some now, than try to hold it all and suffer another disaster. The urge to pee continued to grow. Her pants were getting too wet, however. She would have to hold the rest. Compared to slowly dribbling, it was a lot harder. She wiggled her legs, shifted from one side of the chair to the other, and eventually jammed a heel against her pee-hole. Holding remained taxing enough that she began to get warm in her shirt’s thick material. Her mother noticed her tugging at the fabric and flushing in the cheeks. “It is a little stuffy in here,” she said, “Take something off if you’re hot.” Bethany laughed at the joke, then it hit her: that was a perfectly good solution. The grandparents agreed it was fine, and she shucked the wooly garment over her head. Being around so many people in her panties did not strike her as being this exposed. On the plus side, it was cooler, but it also meant she could wrap it around her waist for extra protection, should she pee more in her jeans. She was about to release a long stream when Mary Ellen emerged from the doors. “Bethany Tucker!” she called. Bethany allowed herself to be ushered into the courtroom proper. Her family was directed to some seats, while she continued past a uniformed bailiff and up to the defendant’s place. A man in a black robe and powdered wig, appearing equally ridiculous and terrifying as the unmistakable judge, sat at the front, looking down on the crowd. Mary Ellen delivered Bethany’s packet of papers to him. Bethany stared at the ominous figure, fidgeting badly in her damp panties and jeans with the shirt tied around them. On top was nothing but her black-and-white striped bra. It felt like a scene out of a nightmare. The name plate on the judge’s desk read “Lance Rowan.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, we have CR number 2019887. And what’s your name, miss?” “Bethany Tucker,” she said, a little too quickly. “Miss Tucker…” Judge Rowan began, scanning through her packet, “Fourteen years old, American applied for dual citizenship… You were cited for defacement of public property by bodily fluids, which carries a fifty-dollar fine. Do you understand the charge?” She looked around. A crowd of people occupied the chairs at the back, all witnessing her shame. “Yes, sir.” “I have the officer’s report here, but do you mind telling us what happened?” “Well,” she stammered, blushing rapidly. Mary Ellen and the dozen strangers were there to hear all the juicy details, and to watch her twist, dip, and wiggle every moment. The judge urged, “I know it may be difficult to talk about, Miss Tucker. But we need your side of the story. The whole truth.” If he wanted the whole truth, he’d get it. “Alright.” She steadied herself with a breath. “My mom and I had just gotten off the plane from Montreal. I hadn’t, uh, taken a comfort break since before the plane took off, and I was having trouble finding an accommodation afterward. I finally found one in the airport, but it made me sign in. By that point it was really hard to hold on, and when I saw the toilet, it all just started coming out. I got to it as fast as possible but got a lot of pee on the floor.” She was hunched over and all but in tears at this point. The judge looked satisfied, but sharing the colorful parts had gotten easier. “I’m really sorry! I’ll try not to do it again, but it’s been hard to adjust. I’m not used to holding and keeping it to myself! Even right now I have to go so bad, I’m trying not to make a mess here too.” Both hands were locked in her crotch. He momentarily scowled. “Young lady, the only thing you ‘have’ to do right now is stop using that kind of crude language in my courtroom, and get better at handling your private business in the future. Case dismissed.” A clap of his gavel confirmed it. Bethany gasped. A little more pee had spurted out, but more importantly, she had won. “Thank you!” she managed, and shot Mary Ellen a wave before being escorted out the side door. She exchanged hugs with her family. “You’re not a jailbird yet,” her grandpa said, “What do you want to do to celebrate? How about ice cream?” “It sounds nice, grandpa,” Bethany said, “But I need to go home. I’m not kidding.” She trembled, still holding her crotch and pee-dancing pathetically. His cheer dulled just a little. “I know you want to, Beth,” he said, eyes full of sorrow, “But you heard the judge. This is the Isle of Cress, and you need to manage your liquids. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck at home forever, or right back in there for another round. And I’m sorry, but I’d rather you not get the truck wet again either.” Her first instinct was to cry, but enough of that. All of them were right; she was a big girl now. “I understand, grandpa.” She steeled her bladder and appeared to perk up as if by magic, “Ice cream sounds good.” “‘Attagirl. We can go to the ice cream spot right over there. It’s the one your grandma and I went to at your age.” Bethany smiled. She had dodged the fine, their sentiments were genuine, and ice cream sounded great. Plus, she had a plan. The chilly air and tile in the ice cream shop raised goosebumps on her bare skin, and while her trembling intensified, she leaked only a little when ordering her cup of cheesecake swirl. Come on, come on, she urged her family silently. There were picnic tables outside. The weather was overcast and not as warm as the previous day, but warmer than the shop. Plus, she was less likely to get in trouble if her ‘plan’ failed. She made sure her shirt was tucked properly under her. With the first spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, she released her pee. She moaned loudly, as if the taste of the ice cream, not the incredible sensation of filling her jeans with warmth was the cause. The temptation to let it all out at full blast was overwhelming. She did for a few seconds, trusting that the splashing was drowned out by passing cars. The visible wet spot was beginning to show on her front, though, which was not good. She had no choice but to apply her weak muscles again to slow the stream. Her shirt continued to absorb the moisture admirably. A few furtive glances showed that while her crotch, butt, and upper thighs were drenched, the makeshift diaper had stopped all but a few disobedient splats from reaching the boards of the deck beneath. Plus, since the shirt was a dark color to begin with, her sneaky pee might still go unnoticed. She pushed another hot dribble or two into her panties, not particularly caring where they went. She was not completely empty, but relief was hers. To sell further the act that nothing was wrong, she continued to fidget as realistically as possible. Just enough to avoid drawing attention. It seemed to work until they had returned to the truck. “You okay, kiddo?” her grandpa asked. “Huh?” Bethany said, her heart already quickening. Surely she had been caught. “Not gonna need you to wipe down my seat when we get home, am I? Looks like you’ve got things a little more under control now." “Oh, yeah,” she said, making sure her hands were deep enough between her legs to hide the wet spot, “I should be alright.” “Good girl.” She smiled. Whew. Just a short ride and a little luck later, she scampered up to her bedroom. Her turquoise shirt, after being untied, hit the polished wood with a slap. Now Bethany’s heart raced for another reason. She stood before a full-length mirror in the corner and inspected her jeans, white except for a grey-yellow region which spotted the front and fully covered her rear. She glanced toward the toilet for the lasting signals in her bladder, but reconsidered. There was no harm in wetting herself a little more. Biting her lip, she pushed while standing. A punctuating spurt a little longer than expected tracked down her leg. With a bit more effort, she made it reach all the way to the ankle and drip off the side of her foot, leaving a tiny puddle on the floor. Before peeling off her wet jeans and wiping the spot, she took a moment to admire her work. She giggled. I guess this island’s pee-shyness has kind of backfired on me.

Hi lads! Its your friendly neighbourhood KozmoFox, and I'm here today to give you the details on the absolute torture I went on yesterday. If you remember the second part of KozmoLotto V, you know I had art done. If you pay a lot of attention to the art-centric part of this community, you may also know that a certain @Biku won't even draw wetting even if you throw money at him. So one might be wondering how I managed to get him to do so. Essentially, Biku and I entered a certain business relationship that will hopefully become tradition. That being, he gives me art for my experiences, so I give him experiences for his art. This is going to be the tale of the second part, as everything I'm about to tell you is going to be rendered into the glorious art of Biku sometime soon. Half the purpose of me even writing out this experience is to provide him with an even better script to work with than all of the details I've already given him or the ones he were present for. Essentially, I paid him with my bladder, acting out his whimsy so he could get the most accurate depiction of the scenario in his mind that he possibly could. And it was utter torture. If you know Biku, you know he likes his Just Made It scenarios, and this was the goal for this one. But even if such a scenario is not to your particular taste, there may still be something for you, as I did not make it to the end of this day unscathed or without changing my clothes. The long and short of it was essentially, a bathroom gauntlet. I provided Biku with a map of my surroundings, and we pinned down 8 bathrooms. Before the challenge ever began, I was to consume 3 litres. THREE LITRES of fluid. Then after my class, I was to hit up every single bathroom, and stand in it for 2 minutes, each. If I ever leaked, I'd get an incremental penalty (1 minute, then 2 minutes, then 4, etc). After completing all of the bathrooms, I was to go back to the very first one and stand in it for a minute, before I could sit down and have my sweet relief. BUT THAT'S NOT ALL FOLKS. When that particular challenge was finished, I was to fill up on food and gatorade (warding off water intoxication) to initiate an immediate second hold, just to see how far a bladder that had just been through hell and back could go. No special nuances with that one, it would be just to see how my endurance could hold up. That was also absolute torture, but a new and different kind of torture. If you've read basically anything you know my general appearance. Pale medium height skinnysmol covered in tats. Currently rockin the teal hairdo. On this day I was wearing a beige jacket, a brown and white striped sweater (THE BEST TIME TO WEAR A STRIPED SWEATER...IS ALL THE TIIIIIIME), a blue skirt, black thigh highs, winter boots, and a nice matching set of teal underwear. Looked pretty professional if you ask me. Biku's Depiction (accurate as can be): It all began before I ever left for school. You can drink as much water as you can, but your kidneys only move so fast eh? So the idea was for me to start drinking before I ever left for school. I have a giant water bottle that can hold 2L, and it fit snugly into my bag. I drank a litre of water before I left the house, and even grabbed a coffee on the way. Once I got there and sat down in class, I polished off the coffee like nobody's business. I was going to be in that class for about an hour and a half, so I had that period to down another 2l. When I got there, I barely needed to pee at all. I could feel myself filling, but even if I wasn't holding I wouldn't go to the bathroom yet, barely anything there. Every little while, I'd open the bottle, chug down a bunch of gulps, and put it down for a bit to let my stomach settle. I'm not the biggest person on earth, so I had to let some filter, my stomach expand, all that. I was barely paying attention to the class, I was mainly doing site things on my laptop from where I was sitting in the back. Things got interesting towards the end of the class. It was very similar to the feeling you get from rapid desperation if you're familiar, where you're filling up your bladder faster than it can expand and accommodate, causing your bladder to feel unbearably full before you're even at max capacity because it just wasn't ready to be hit by a truck of water. This had me VIOLENTLY desperate in the last 20 minutes. If I was smarter I'd have thought of everything I just said about bladder expansion, but in these moments I was convinced I wouldn't even make it to the challenge itself. It was a wild eyed sort of panic, my foot frantically tapping on the ground, constantly shifting around as I waited for the clock to hit the class end time. I thought I had so little time that I actually packed up my things before the class was over, because I thought saving those precious seconds would mean all that much. They probably did, looking back. The posture change across this whole challenge was gradual. Starting out here, I was basically exactly as you see in the artwork. Determined, mildly frustrated and irked, just a little tense. I basically powerwalked with an absolute purpose straight to that first bathroom, like a stern mom looking for the manager. I walked in, walked to the sink, braced on it with one hand and stuffed the other between my legs. I let out some noise, the most pent up groan you will ever hear, probably sounded like someone having a bad day hearing that one stupid thing to break the camels back. A little jiggle and dancing later and I managed to finesse out my phone. I should probably mention I had a stopwatch app for measuring time in each bathroom. I also needed my phone to keep in contact with Biku; keep in mind the entire purpose of this entire debacle is for him to collect data on this scenario so it could be prepped as accurately as possible. Data I did provide gladly, but also in furious caps lock. This bathroom was one of the worst of the bunch, because of my aforementioned bladder issue of rapid expansion. I couldn't believe I was actually holding it because it felt like I was about to piss all over the floor. Eventually the two minutes passed, and I was able to make my way to the next two bathrooms, located in the cafeteria area. These two were probably the easiest; they weren't EASY, just the easiest by comparison. The absolute powerhouse of a strut I walked to get there must've helped my bladder settle and adjust to its growing shape. I was still in DIRE need of a bathroom, but it got just a touch easier, and that little touch to take the edge off was all I needed to clear the next two. They went much the same way as the first, me shaking and dancing like a leaf, propping myself up on the sink, my fingers and foot tapping way impatiently as I watched the clock. At this point I was beginning to sweat from all the effort, who knew that holding a full bladder and walking an entire campus with a full laptop bag of college supplies on your back would be a good workout? I was still quite badly in danger, but this was as collected I would be for the entirety of the challenge. I hit another bathroom in the hallway on the way, and I was really starting to feel the effects. The bladder settling only goes so far; you have a capacity, and adjusted or not I was reaching mine, with all of those litres of water steadily chugging their way through, like a tap into a water balloon. Having to stop in that bathroom made me very aware of that fact. The tapping of my feet and the shifting around were getting more and more intense with every passing moment, as stopping to take stock really sets your mind on things, and my mind did not like what it was thinking and feeling. Better yet, nobody I was chatting with on my phone would let me forget. This was the end of easy mode. And there's nothing quite to signal the end of an easy mode, like a sudden curve in difficulty. You see, on my way to bathroom #5, something bad happened. Something really really bad. I made my way to where I knew it was, up on the second floor, and continued my highly aggressive traversal. At least I did this, until I was in the second floor lobby, which was milling about with students, and very suddenly had to stop. I stopped, I stalled. My knees turned inward, and I hunched over ever so slightly. I could feel my face burn red hot as I felt my bladder protest, and decide that it wouldn't be taken so lightly. That it meant business. I couldn't believe it, not for a second that something so dastardly was about to happen to me. And then I leaked. Badly. Very badly. I felt the spray hit my underwear that were dry up until this point. Not a dribble. A spray. I felt it cover my nether regions, and pour a tiny river down my thighs as I instinctively pressed my legs together. I saw some hit the ground, and felt some saturate the side of one of my socks. In a lobby, rife with students. It perhaps hit me more in that moment than ever, just how dangerous this challenge was. My aggressive confidence went straight down the toilet. Stepping on the drops I had left with my boot, confident that they were inconsequential given the snowy climate causing people to track slush everywhere, I hobbled around the corner and into the bathroom. This was bad. This was very very bad. If I had been wearing say, jeans, the damage would be noticeable to everyone with eyes, and Biku was kind enough to point out that the skirt was his idea, and a good one. He also chose this moment to tell me that from now on, all time spent in the bathrooms was to be done inside a stall. All this on top of each other made this to be one of the harder bathrooms. I ended up in a stall, hand buried in my skirt (which was a terrible idea; given my underwear was now soaked, this spread the damage) with my arm propped up against the wall, and my head propped up against that. Squirming and gasping in extreme desperation, I suffered a full 3 minutes due to my penalty, every now and then another pang forcing me to shudder and crouch and bend my body ever so slightly. The people I was chatting with seemed to be a big fan of this development; in the span of a minute I had gone from my determined and angry desperate persona to an absolute wreck of a woman inches from wetting herself, standing right next to a toilet. And I'm telling you, I could not bear to look at that thing. I could not bare to listen to the other girls using the bathroom. I should probably thank the chat for that, for being the distraction letting me tune out the environment that very well could have doomed me right there on the spot. I was about to pop. I then had to find my next bathroom, which was a building away. I did not stride there. I did not confidently strut with determination. I hobbled, with my legs pressed together, feeling the dampness of my underwear and sock torment me. I had to pee. I really really had to pee. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer, and that if I had any chance of victory, it was going to be very slim. I was dancing the wire, and BOY was I dancing, skating on thin ice above a river contained only by my bladder, which at this point felt massive. My abdomen, which is not a big abdomen, felt as hard as a boulder. I got in that next stall and I swear, the entire time was just me frantically whining on my phone. Victory almost felt hopeless. I needed to pee, I needed to PEE. I didn't think I could make it, not in a million years, and my fight or flight was on maximum overdrive, because I was all but certain that within the next few minutes I was about to make a complete mess, pissing myself in the middle of my college. Luckily, I had champions to my cause, who despite all of my moaning and panting and whining, the frantic typo-laden garbage I kept sending through my phone, they convinced me I could do it, they believed in me. Of course I had some naysayers, in this community there's always the ones who want the desperate girl to fail horribly and wet herself. But I was successfully convinced. I had 2 more bathrooms before finish line. I could do it. I'm not some pleb, I'm KozmoFox. I got this. And so I left that bathroom, knowing the final two were nearby, in such close proximity I could taste it, victory was so close, and then... I got fucking lost. Yeah, you heard me. My stupid ass got lost. Me, who has been a student at this college for 5 whole years, and been through the whole campus enough to navigate it with my eyes closed, got LOST. That's like getting lost in your own house. Do you know how absolutely, mindblowingly and ferally desperate to pee you need to be, to get LOST in your own HOUSE?! Because that was straight up me. In theory, I knew where the last two bathrooms should be. But my mind was so foggy, so frantic, so close to losing complete and utter control of the body it was piloting could not fit the pieces together, like a dog trying to play Tetris. So, I had to cheat a little. Just a little. It actually hurt my chances even to do so...because I went on autopilot trying to find another bathroom that I hadn't already been in. That counts, right? A bathroom is a bathroom, even if its not the originally intended bathroom. So I went down a flight of stairs, gingerly and carefully as not to jostle myself that little amount that would cause me to completely flood them, and started darting my eyes around. I saw a ramp and went nearly right back to where I was, because a desperate Kozmo on autopilot is the dumbest creature on earth. I knew I'd be like this well in advance, which is why Biku and I went over the details so painstakingly and carefully. And I still managed to fuck it up. Luckily, the goddess of omorashi must have been on my side, because there was one on the ramp. I flew in, went in a stall, and locked the door. Again, I resumed the song and dance. Brace against wall, hold onto my crotch for dear life because I was so close to losing it I could practically taste it. But I couldn't think about that, no, if I thought about it, I'd be a soaked mess of a student before you could say la li lu le lo, so again I turned to my chat, who reinforced my upcoming victory. That encouragement is all I held onto. This challenge would be crushed beneath my boot, I just needed to stay...well, I wasn't dry, I'd already had a pseudo-mini accident, but RELATIVELY dry. I just had to make it. I knew I couldn't leak anymore, I knew it. Dribbles tried to force their way out, and I used all of my willpower, all of my strength and any determination I had left, to hold them back. I wouldn't survive another minute long penalty. As I traversed to the final bathroom, and by traversed I mean looked for another random one, I had to toss all pride out the window. I didn't have a choice. Attempting to seem dignified would spell the end, I required every single ounce of strength in my body. I hobbled down a hallway, knowing there was likely and hopefully a bathroom at the end, and boy did I hobble. Down a hallway. In the middle of a school day, with a hand buried between my legs, hidden under my bag which I had slung over my front, as a final flimsy shield between me and shame. I didn't care if my skirt got wet from the dampness of my underwear anymore...I was so close, and I do not go down without every single ounce of fight I have. The last bathroom was indeed at the end of this hall. I was able to take bearing and understand where I was in relation to everywhere else, and realized I was essentially very close to where I had originally started, and what would be my final stop. I got in this bathroom, which was not a stalled one but a single door single toilet bathroom, locked it, and began to pace wildly, occasionally smacking a fist off my leg, groaning and hissing in frantic desperation, and just generally hobbling about. No more dribbles, no more leaks. Two more minutes and then homestretch. The knowledge kept me alive, invigorated, kept me holding on just so. Just. So. My bladder was a volcano, ready to erupt between my legs, any more liquid, any more jostling would be the end. But I would NOT let that happen. I was sweating and panting like an absolute maniac, my forehead feeling damp and my face feeling hot. Firing on all cylinders, max capacity, max effort. And with that two minutes done, home stretch. It was time to take this one home. Leaving that bathroom, and going very carefully up some stairs lead me to the two bathrooms I had originally intended to be 7 and 8. I would appreciate the irony later. Another hallway and a half of frantic, skirt tugging hobbling brought me to the first bathroom I had visited right after leaving class. Home base. I spent the whole 60 seconds I was required to spend before my relief violently pacing around that room. I tossed my bag AND my jacket aside, I was overheating too much. If I stopped moving, I'd think about my desperation, if I thought about my desperation, I would pee. That's just how that was going to be. I could have choreographed a dance routine with how much prancing and shaking I was doing. Leaning on the sink, stuffing my hands down my skirt, planting my head against walls, all that good stuff. Whining and practically yelling at my stupid clock, to hurry up, hurry the fuck up, I'm about to piss myself please hurry! The racket I was making in that bathroom would have been audible to anybody walking by, they probably would have thought a murder was taking place. The final ten seconds I read my final words of encouragement, crouching and bouncing on my heel in the middle of the bathroom. It was time. I was about to win. And then the time hit 0. I confirmed it with Biku. I told him it was time. The second I read "fine, go" I flew to the toilet, hoisted my skirt up, and I hooked my fingers around the band of my damp panties gingerly sliding them quickly down my legs and around my ankles. Looking at them, the teal all over the crotch area and a bit of the back was darkened significantly, and as I saw the bow on the front hit the floor at my feet, seeing them crumple felt like a good metaphor for what I was going through. I planted myself on the throne with my legs apart, leaning forward and practically drooling. And I let loose. It was the most heavenly feeling I've ever experienced in my life. The hiss of my pee spraying below me was completely deafening and I didn't care. I started a timer, at Biku's request, to see how long it'd go. The final time? 1 minute and 52 seconds straight of peeing. There was so much, I could have sworn in that moment I was peeing more than I'd ever peed in my life. I peed, and I peed, and I peed. Probably about a minute in I changed positions, flopping back against the wall and letting my head loll about a bit, making it so that I was basically half-laying on the toilet, basically ready to nap from pure, exhausted relief as I kept on peeing. Those 2 minutes felt like forever. They say a sneeze is an eighth of an orgasm...This felt like double. Eventually the flow tapered off and I must have sat on that toilet another 10 minutes, relaxing, recuperating, and just chatting in the chat. Every now and again I'd end up letting out another spurt...because you know, 3 litres is a LOT OF LIQUID and I still had plenty coursing through my system, and still filtering into my bladder. The kidneys do not care what the bladder is going through. Take that knowledge to heart. But then I was reminded...I had a second challenge to start immediately, and these still pumping kidneys were going to help with that. How far can a girl push a beaten and bruised bladder? I walked to the store, feeling more relieved and bouncy than I had in forever, literally lighter on my feet, and bought some chips and over a litre of gatorade. Gotta get those salts and electrolytes, it staves off water intoxication. Any person into holding should deeply familiarize themselves with this concept. When you drink as much as I just did, stuff gets washed out of your body, stuff like electrolytes which you could die without. You gotta drink a LOT for this to happen, but ALWAYS be safe before sorry. Therefore, on top of everything still filtering through my system, all this gatorade became the beverage of choice for the immediate round two. Writing on round two will be infinitely briefer. Mainly due to the fact that it was not a gauntlet challenge, or any sort of challenge with steps. It was simply a waiting game to see how long my overly tired battle could hold out. I had brought a change of clothes, because I know I'm a leaker and that getting out completely unscathed was slim. But I had no idea what I was about to go through, it was new territory. So I inclined to change after whatever was about to happen, not wanting to wear and then ruin a second pair of clothes. The build didn't take long, probably about another hour or so. My kidneys were still on overdrive, I still had a ton of water left in me, and I had just introduced a fair amount of gatorade into my system. Most of my time was spent sitting around by the cafeteria in a chair, munching on my doritos and polishing off the gatorade. It was pretty boring until I shifted in my seat and I felt a pang. A very interesting pang. I KNEW I wasn't filled yet, not to bursting...but my tired bladder was unbelievably sensitive. I walked around a little to test it, and sure enough, despite being maybe half full, I needed to pee again, and badly. Every little movement felt like it had a direct effect on my bladder, the sensitivity caught me super off guard but the sensation wasn't unpleasant. Say I crossed my legs, it would feel like the very bone of my leg was massaging directly onto the wall of my bladder, pulsing it and encouraging its release. Now I know it wasn't actually the bone, it was just the first metaphor I thought of upon experiencing it. If I took a step, I'd feel a sharp pulse, not an ache, not a dull throb, I mean a very sharp pulse that would make my thighs tremble. My bladder was very, VERY weak. Not gonna lie, it turned me on a fair bit, and if I hadn't been in a public place it was a sensation that would merit more experimentation, but this was not the day for that, nor the place. This was for SCIENCE. I wanted some peace and quiet and the day was fairly nice, so I decided to take my little rodeo of desperation outdoors. I knew a nice little crevice I could sit around in free from prying eyes, a wall that sort of curved around under an overhang. Realizing that I would not be able to hold this particular need nearly as long, I hopped back in the chat and let my gaggle of jerks know that the secondary event of the day was starting, and also soon to end. The people who earlier in the day my biggest showing of support, my rock, my source of courage...suddenly became quite dastardly. Suddenly it seemed like everyone wanted me to wet myself except Biku. I could feel my sensitive bladder expanding, and screaming for release due to the sensations of such expansion. Over the course of another fair bit, I went from uncomfortable standing around, to once more dancing on the spot, every movement tempting disaster, the sensitivity of my bladder doing me in far faster than any mass amount of liquid ever could. Yet they wanted me to wait, as much as I continually told them, with constant swearing and caps lock that "Hey, I'm going need to go inside soon, or I'm just not going to make it." Imagine that over several angry messages, conveying that thought. Meanwhile, in the legendary words of Biku... "kozmo no" As I stood there, hopping from toe to toe and mewling under my breath in utter sensitive agony, my tired bladder on the verge of just giving out, the dynamic very very swiftly changed. Firstly, my bladder was no longer Atlas, holding litres above his head to carry the journey forward. It was now more like a weak, shrivelled up raisin of an old person trying to hobble around without their cane and not fall over. Secondly, dear Biku pulled the trigger on something I never ever thought this bastion of making it and holding to the brink was even possible of comprehending. He brought out the big guns of torture. Enter my dearest waifu, whom I love so dearly, @Pondera. This waifu who in a short while, I'd open the chat to call a "huge bitch." Biku brought out this hound from hell itself, and let her off her chain. You see, Pondera has a very specific way with words. She knows how to verbally burst a bubble. How to pay the pied piper. How to make a person spill. Biku knew this. And Biku personally sicced her on me. I thought I could take it, and I stated so. After all, all of the other people trying to make me lose it weren't doing too much, all the remarks of pssssh and all the gifs and images couldn't do anything other than give me uncomfortable pains. What could this one person do? I practically dared her to try. And then for my transgression, I was delivered a nice little paragraph. A paragraph detailing in detail, all of the little feelings I must be feeling, every little sensation, bringing them all to my immediate attention. Telling me how tired and sore they must feel. Tempting me to just give into these feelings and let go. Ever realize you done fucked up? It was at that moment Kozmo knew, she fucked up. I thought I was Obi-Wan on the high ground, telling her not to bother. I was actually Anakin, doing something stupid and getting crippled for it. I played coy. I said she shouldn't bother, that it was useless. Boom, another short paragraph, dealing absolute crippling pangs straight into my bladder. I told her that this should last, not to ruin the fun. Paragraph. I doubled over, my pee hole feeling like it was about to violently erupt into my already disgraced clothes. I told her to stop. That she should just stop. Just stop. She kept going. It was at this moment I knew, if I heard another word, I was going to piss myself right there. After being dealt all these blows and my bladder being so tired, I wasn't sure I could make the short journey back into the college and to the bathroom by the door. I told her if she kept going I wasn't going to make it. She kept going. I started to beg. I started to beg her to stop. I begged with my life, which was basically on the line. From determined woman to frail, nearly leaky girl. I wasn't going to make it to the toilet. I wasn't going to make it. I begged her to please let up. Then she dealt a critical hit. I read it and for a moment, a terrifying moment, right there in public, outside my college, the floodgates burst open. Tears streaming down my cheeks, my hand stuffed in my skirt, it gushed out. Through my already sodden panties, through the front of my skirt, through my fingers onto the ground. Pee blazed a trail down my legs, soaking my socks, one stream going straight into my boot, making me feel the warmth pool around my foot. I saw a giant explosion fall from directly between my legs onto the brick beneath me, the wet stain looking like someone had dropped a water balloon straight onto the ground, a giant wet puddle and rivulets scattered everywhere. All from what was maybe a two second mega-leak. I barely got it back together, my bladder muscles quivering, screaming, barely managed to type on my phone, one last soft beg. To please stop, I was going to full on wet myself and had already started. I was sniffling from the pure tired effort of keeping it in. I was far from strong. I was about to keel over and collapse into a wet mess. Biku realized this, and called a cease-fire. It was the end game, and he knew it, and wanted to see if I'd make it that final stretch. He put the hound back on the leash, and she backed off before she could finish me off. Upon being told to go, I hobbled back to the door of the college. I left a trail the whole way. My bladder control was gone, and I kept spurting, sputtering, and dribbling with every pulse, straight into my clothes and onto the ground. The trail from my spot to the door was easy to follow with the eye. I entered the school saw people coming for the door. I initiated ninja training and scurried forward and down the hall to the right as fast as I could, right into what was bathroom #3 in the first challenge. Still leaving droplets pattering behind me, I dove into a stall and locked the door. My bladder knew where I was, and had none of it. The stream started, slowly but surely, the pitterpattering of drops on the tile underneath me audible enough to make me nearly cry. The front of my skirt was drenched, absolutely no saving it. I didn't bother to try moving it out of the way as I once more hooked my thumbs around the band of my poor panties and pulled them down, seeing them having been soaked every which way. It was surreal, seeing my borderline loss of control up close, pulling down my underwear and seeing firsthand the drops leaving me and striking my panties as they fell around my ankles yet again, falling into the small puddle beneath my feet, even the cute waistband receiving damage. I plopped onto the toilet. I had lost the battle...but I had won the war, and once more claimed victory. I spewed the inner river of my turmoil into the toilet bowl, knees together as I arched my back leaning forward and turning my head upward, not daring to look at the mess below and letting that small shame destroy my greater victory. Against all odds and torment, I once again had made it. Timing this one, the pee lasted over a minute. Half the length of the previous one, but the sensation of my poor bladder getting the relief it had been murdering me to get was pure bliss. Pure, and utter, fucking, bliss. The bliss of a hard earned success. My bladder wasn't the same for the rest of the day. Luckily, I had a change of clothes, and was able to go about the rest of my day and observe my functions without any issue, except for a close call after a meeting I had, and then another on the drive home that required a rest stop for a 10 minute drive. Yeah, my bladder was so weak I couldn't last a 10 minute drive without having to stop for another toilet victory. But all and all, this experiment for science? Yeah no, it wasn't that bad. There's something about the taste of victory that really hits all those nice feelings. While I'm mostly a fan of desperation and accidents, even I can't deny that maybe there's something about actually making it at the very brink that has its own separate appeal, at least when doing it rather than watching. After all, if I continue having accidents in my experiences, there's gotta be a couple of victories in order to make the losses feel like losses. And all the losses I've had, really made these victories feel like victories. Maybe, just maybe there's something to this whole "just made it" thing. I'll be flayed alive in the discord for saying so, but don't take this as a conversion. Just a curt nod of respect and acknowledgement. The moral of the story is, I have a very unique way of paying for art. And I'm probably going to end up doing it again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This entire debacle is going to be the basis for some Biku art later. So stay absolutely tuned. Tuned as fuck. TUNED. THIS. THIS THING. ^ THAT. IS GOING TO BE BIKU'D. SO THAT. STAY. TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNED.

Creator of this lovely video: https://twitter.com/0o_Rion_o0 twitter rion desp leak wet grey panties.mp4

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