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  1. Does anyone like it when a girl really needs to pee but they leak before peeing/wetting themselves I love leaking! I guess im addicted. I really like it when they leak in just panties as they are about to wet themelves and then show their pee soaked undergaraments to us! I also love it when they are at the toilet but leak alot on the way Does anyone else like this or nah?
  2. Chapter 1 Scott could hardly contain his giddiness as he turned his steering wheel to make a left at the intersection. After several weeks of careful planning, scheming, checking, and rechecking, he finally had a free weekend for himself. He had spent those weeks ordering discrete packages filled with supplies of a particular nature and tinkering in his garage on a device that he hoped would be able to fulfill his wildest fantasies. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he put his blinker on and changed lanes, wanting to get home as soon as legally possible. Scott had had a great week at work, his boss had been admiring the white leopard's progress for a while now. He had recently designed a filing system that, according to his calculations, had increased the company’s data storage system by a whole 12.4%. The subsequent increase in efficiency had also increased his paycheck to a much sizable amount, which he had recently been putting to good use. Scott was a brilliant engineer and computer programmer, his passion for creation had brought him to work for Sky-TEC industries, a company that specializes in creating computers whose processing power and ability to complete tasks in incredibly low amounts of time had brought them up to one of the best technology companies in the world. But as brilliant as this company was, Scott was just a little bit more brilliant. Scott had quite unmistakably come into contact with a piece of technology that was top secret and incredibly powerful. Many would use it for great evil, while some might use it to achieve near indestructibility. Scott however, wasn't particularly interested in any of those things. Scott had some very private tendencies that he had never shared with anyone since he was a child. Specifically, he loved indulging in infantile fantasies, imagining himself just like a little kid again. From feeling the warmth of a freshly soaked diaper, to the pleasurable struggle of being put in bondage whilst wearing a soiled diaper, unable to do anything about his current predicament, to the wonderful childlike freedom of just wearing a diaper and t-shirt whilst watching children's shows on TV. Scott had spent a good amount of time imagining exactly what he'd love to do to or by himself if he had the time and resources to fulfill his fantasies. Fantasies that he hoped would be fulfilled very soon. Scott pulled into the driveway of his comfortable little home. It wasn't anything special, he had little furnishings to decorate it with, but it had what he liked to consider an "aesthetical amount of space". He turned off the engine, grabbed his shoulder bag, and exited the car, walking into his garage. He flicked on the lights, and as the light bulbs blinked awake the device that he'd spent months on putting together sat on his workshop table. To put it bluntly, Scott had been programming a device that would essentially stop time itself. Through a combination of biotechnology, an improbability-engine, and a calculator that essentially worked on the whimsical nature of the polarity of electrons whirling around in titanium atoms in the contraption, the device was able to access the particular genetic code of the user and ignore all cells with the sequence, then continue to all other organic matter and inorganic matter and "freeze them in place". Scott didn't fully understand it, but he knew how to put the parts together and calibrate the machine. One might think that experimenting with such a device would be incredibly risky, but Scott had that figured out as well. He had coded in a fail-safe into the device. If a large amount of cells of the individual who had activated the device began to shut down at a rapid enough pace indicating possible death, it would essentially reverse the freezing process restoring reality to normal. Scott picked up the device with baited breath. It didn't look like anything special, like a TV remote except with fewer buttons and what looked like more volume controls. He connected his phone to the remote and fed it information about the current time, position of earth relative to the sun, and relative temperatures around the world. He hoped that the device would be able to send out the proper frequency into the molecules around it, setting off the time freezing reaction properly. He knew that if it failed, it may fail spectacularly, possibly even harming him despite the fail safe. A green light on the device shone, indicating that it was ready to be activated. He closed his eyes, pressed his eyes shut, and pushed a large red button with his finger. A loud rushing sound echoed through his ears, he fell backwards sputtering and coughing, he felt as if everything in a single part of his body was getting lightly tickled with electricity, he yelled in alarm, but before he could yell for more than a second it all stopped. Scott looked around. Everything looked. . . normal. He went over to the garage switch and pressed it, a whirring sound came from the door as it opened. He padded outside and his jaw dropped. Birds hung eerily in the air, much like bricks don't. Leaves stood stalk still, frozen as a gust of wind was blowing through it. Scott fanned himself with a paw experimentally, looking at it as he felt the air particles against his whiskers and fur. He had done it. He had created a device that stopped time. It stopped time for everything and everyone! Everyone, except him. Scott hooted and hollered! He started running down the street, passing cars with passengers in them halfway through a sip of coffee, forming a word as they talked on the phones, or smiling jaws and maws agape as they sang to their favorite car songs. Scotts saw planes and clouds, unmoving in the sky, felt the warmth of the sun on his fur as it peeked behind a cloud, permanently, until adjusted by the remote of course. Scott stopped running in the middle of an intersection and turned around and around, taking in the view. He laughed, joyous that he had achieved something that most thought was only possible in sci-fi movies and fantasy novels. Suddenly, he remembered why he had gone so ridiculously out of his way with his invention. He turned tail sprinted back to his house and got quickly inside, closing his door, not bothering to lock it. Who would try bothering him now if every ‘who’ was frozen in time? He walked inside his sparsely furnished living room and opened one of the brown boxes he had sitting there. A fresh waft of baby powder and ointment met his feline nostrils as he admired the contents of the box. Within it lay several large, fluffy adult diapers, each themed with little cartoons of various baby animals wearing diapers. Some looked sleepy, others laughed in joy, while still others were too busy with a toy to do anything else. Scott shuddered with excitement and let out a shaky sigh. Finally, I can unwind like I've always wanted to. He thought, as his tail twitched in anticipation. He looked at the other boxes, knowing that what they contained would only increase the amount of fun he was about to have. He grinned, and speaking aloud to no one said, “It’s going to be a good weekend."
  3. Peter was about to meet Katie. They had been talking on a dating app, and they had hit it off pretty well. He dressed comfortably, wearing snug jeans with a belt and a sweater. Before heading to lunch with her, he took care of some things around his apartment and had some coffee. Before long, it was time to head out. He thought about using the restroom before leaving, but he only had a little bit of a need to pee and he had already taken care of other business earlier. No worries. He grabbed his leather jacket, headed out the door, and went to the restaurant. Peter arrived to see Katie seat outside in the brisk autumn air. She wore a bright red turtleneck and black jeans with tall boots. She sipped on a warm cup of tea and was watching the nearby tree as the wind lightly plucked at its leaves. “Hi Katie!” “Peter! Glad we can finally meet!” She stood up and the two shared a hug. They then went inside the restaurant, put their lunch orders in, and sat back outside. Peter felt a little cold as the wind blew by, feeling himself shiver lightly. Katie said online that she likes this kind of weather though, and he did have to admit that the trees with their hues of red were beautiful. He felt his bladder pulse a little bit, but easily put it out of his mind. “I simply love this time of year,” Katie said. “This is the time for hot drinks, cuddles, and just being cozy. How about you?” “I'm a little bit more of a Spring kind of person,” Peter replied, “but Fall might be my second favorite.” Katie laughed. “I think I can show you why I like it.” They talked more, and finished their food and drinks. At her suggestion, they went inside and got more tea for her and coffee for him, then walked to the park that was a block away. They walked along the sidewalk chatting, while the leaves above them rustled and occasionally dropped down to be carried by the wind into the small lake to their left. Reds and golds mingled with the browns and greens of mallard ducks that floated alongside the shore. Peter was telling a story about a dog he grew up with who loved trips to parks like this. Then he stuttered briefly, interrupted by a chill. “Are you cold?” Katie asked, with a slightly concerned look. “I'm fine,” Peter replied. Truth be told, his bladder was filling up a bit, and the cold wasn't helping. He was fine with that and didn't want to tell her, but it did sit at the back of his mind. “Here, I can warm one of your hands for you,” Katie said, taking his right with her left as they walked. Peter grew a massive blush, eliciting a laugh from Katie. “That is so cute,” she told him with a smile, laughing a little more as his blush grew even redder. They walked and saw a kid play-fighting with a golden retriever under a tree. “Hey,” Peter said, “my dog was a golden retriever!” “I love them,” Katie replied, “they are so sweet, and I don't think I've met a single unfriendly one.” Eventually they happened upon a small building made of grey bricks. Noting that it was the restrooms, Katie said “I think I'm going to get rid of some of the tea that's been going through me, I'll be right back!” “Yeah, I probably should go too,” Peter laughed, and they each went to their respective sides of the building. Peter reached the door to the men's room and set his coffee down on the ground outside. At this point, generally, he would definitely be looking to go. His bladder was a constant presence that often neared the forefront of his thoughts. But after he opened the door, he noticed that the floor was flooded. Perhaps it was from when it rained yesterday, as the men's room did face a small hill, and leaves were stuck in the floor drain. He felt uncomfortable using it, so he just went back around to the front. He sat on a bench and crossed his right left over his left tightly, feeling the ever-increasing ball of urine inside him. A breeze blew by, and as he shivered a little, his abdomen contracted, and he experienced a surge of desperation for a moment before it subsided again. Katie came out to find him sitting there. “Thanks for waiting!” “No problem!” he said. He considered telling her about the men's room, but he didn't want to do anything that might disrupt their date. They kept walking and talking about anything and everything, and Peter carefully controlled his walk so as to put minimum strain on his bladder. “I live close by,” Katie said, “you should come over! I've been having a good time.” Peter blushed a little. “Of course!” And hand in hand they walked out from the park, into the residential area, down a couple of blocks, and into an apartment. __________________ She offered him some wine, and they sat and talked. They had both been to Europe as well as done many things in the outdoors here, so they weren't even close to running out of things to say and stories to share. For dinner, they had shrimp linguine and more wine, against Peter's better judgment. He really really wanted to ask about the bathroom, but also didn't want to interrupt this conversation. He felt like the luckiest person in the world to be on this date with her. They stood up and carried their conversation to the window. Outside it had begun to rain, smearing their view of the evening colors into a work comparable to Leonid Afremov. Peter felt his bladder give way a little bit before he caught himself, pressing his legs together. Katie noticed. “Peter, do you need to use the bathroom? You can use mine, it's the door behind you and to the right.” “Thank you,” Peter said, blushing. He went into the bathroom, finally about to have some relief. He closed the door, and then looked around. The room was very well decorated for a bathroom, with candles around and two pothos plants on the window sill. He opened the toilet, then made the mistake of looking to his right. There were two mirrors. One faced towards the sink by the door, and the other was on the other side of the sink's corner, facing him. He could turn and see himself using the toilet. No matter, he thought, his anxiety went up slightly and he was a little pee-shy, but he could put in the effort and open up the floodgates for this much-needed pee. But then he heard Katie singing along to some French song she was playing while putting things away in the kitchen. He first laughed a little to himself, thinking about how much of a flex it is to sing in French while your date is in the other room. But then he thought about how thin the door is, how beautiful the woman on the other side of it is, the fact she'd hear him peeing, and all this while getting a little bit of anxiety for doing the deed in front of a mirror. He cursed silently and whimpered quietly. He loosened his belt buckle one notch, and it still felt tense, albeit not painfully so like a moment ago. He realized that he would not be able to go. Furthermore, he would not be able to pee himself in the shower or something, as he would let a little bit out and then his bladder would clamp back down as soon as the pressure dropped to a slightly more manageable (but still very uncomfortable) level. He sighed, washed his hands, and left the bathroom. Peter sat down on the couch, and Katie smiled at him as she walked by. As she looked away his eyes widened as he had a sudden realization: he did not flush. There was nothing to flush, but with how thin the door was, not only would she have heard him pee, but she would have heard him flush. He should have flushed. Now she was going to figure things out, and he was going to be embarrassed. He was so concerned that he started to blush again, and when Katie walked back over, she noticed his bright red face. “Were you able to go?” she asked. Peter didn't reply, he didn't want to lie but he also didn't want to tell her. He froze up, and felt a slight trickle of pee leave his penis and get caught in his underwear before he brought it back under control. He tightened his legs as he did this, and then blushed harder. I must be easier to read than a book right now, he thought. The situation was incredibly embarrassing. Katie smiled. “Hug me,” she said, and opened her arms. Peter quickly stood up (maybe a little too quickly) and hugged her like he did once earlier, except she pulled him in tighter now. He accidentally let out an “mmph” as she pulled him in. She was warm and her hug was soft, and he felt like he could be there forever, if only he didn't have to go pee. Can she tell that my belly sticks out more than it did earlier? he wondered. She ended the hug with a last tight squeeze, which caused him to tense up and let out another “mmph.” Katie laughed. “It's cold and rainy outside, and I do like having you over. Would you like to spend the night on my couch?” “I would love to!” Peter said, before remembering his situation and realizing what he was committing to. He was so taken with Katie that she could get him to briefly forget about the giant warm ball he carried. He was committing to holding it the entire night, when he hadn't peed since around 10 that morning. “Great!” Katie smiled, “I'll grab you some pillows and blankets. There's a spare toothbrush and toothpaste in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.” Peter slumped back onto the couch that would shortly become his bed, asking himself what he had done. Once he brushed his teeth, he sat back down. “Lay down, I like tucking people in,” Katie giggled. Peter gingerly laid down as she placed the recently fluffed pillows under his head she pulled a quilt over him, then tucked it in on either side. As she leaned over him, she placed her hand on his belly, and he felt his bladder practically screaming in panic. He pulled his legs in and his hands shot to his crotch. He blushed with embarrassment, but he was also turned on by the fact that it was Katie subjecting him to this. She stepped away, then came back and set a bottle of water down next to the couch. “Thanks for letting me tuck you in,” Katie laughed. “I'll see you in the morning!” She turned out the light and left for her bedroom. Peter was frozen in this position of clasping himself. He didn't know what to do. Should he sneak to the bathroom and try again? Out of the question, he thought. She would definitely hear him even if he could get it to start, and the light from the bathroom peeks underneath the door to her bedroom. Slowly, carefully, he turned and braced himself with a pillow, and practically crushed his right hand between his thighs. He quietly whined to himself while listening to the pitter-patter of the rain on the window, but it did help make him sleepy. Slowly, desperately, he drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep.
  4. As for me I leak mostly in toilet near the lavatory pan.. When I'm undressing my pants or skirt with pantihose and panties I start to pee.. Because I have overactive bladder and urgent incontinence.. The most difficult to hold is on last seconds before peeing, isn't it?
  5. ————————————————————— it’s been a while since I posted a fictional story. Actually, I started many during this hiatus, but ended up deleting many of them because I’d lose motivation. So, I took a break. Seems I needed it as this story is a whopping 9-10 pages long, according to Microsoft Word. I didn’t want to create chapters, so you all can simply read the whole thing in one go without having to wait for each chapter. Once again, as in a previous story of mine, “she” is unnamed so that whoever you are, if you so desired, can call her whomever you’d like: a crush, a girlfriend, a wife, whoever; I leave her identity at my readers’ discretion. Any edit history will be with respect to typos I find as I re-read my work in this post. It’s long, so typos are inevitable. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed detailing it. ’Til next time.. ————————————————————— Driving Disaster Although she had stopped at the rest-stop and gone in for some beverages, her anxiety with using public restrooms prevented her from going. Her bladder reminded her that the toilet is only a door away, but she refused as her anxiety flared in her chest. She purchased the beverages and as she approached the exit, her bladder whispered into her mind: “last chance, turn around..” But she ignored it, walking through the sliding doors; and whilst she walked to and approached her car, she can hear her bladder yelp into her mind: “No! No!, please go back! You have a chance!” And once again, she shook her head, refusing to acknowledge her opportunity. Her anxiety just told her to wait it out. After all, she just had to wait another fifty miles or so, then she’d reach the motel she planned to stay in for the night; then she can go pee. However, now that she was back on the road, her urging bladder slowly began creeping out of her belly, building until sufficient tingle remained constant in her lower abdomen. She clenched her sphincter muscles in response, but it didn’t go away as fast as prior to her break at the rest-stop. Her mind began to second-guess her anxiety, after noticing it took longer for her clenching to make the tingles go away: “perhaps a public restroom isn’t so bad?” But as soon as the question rang in her mind, just as fast sprung her anxiety about even considering the opportunity and picturing herself doing so. And though her mind reassured her, and gave her some confidence that she could make it, the extent of her distended bloated belly: — considering that she was wearing a flow-y red floral dress, was yet noticeably jutting out — “maybe it was just the way I’m sitting”, she reflected when noticing her large stomach. Suddenly while thinking — thinking she could perhaps make it — her bladder urge arrives faster, no longer gradually creeping its way, and contracts, sending strong tingles urging her to open her sphincter downwards into her perineum. “Ooooff..”, she mouths, then purses her lips. She squints her eyes, not outright squeezing them shut — since she knows wouldn’t be able to see the road had she fully closed them — and bites her incisors down on her bottom lips. Her head lightly twitches, tilting to the left when the tingles in her perineum grow upwards and sit at on top of her pubic bone. “Ahhh..”, her mind winces as growing tingles agitate, ringing her awareness like cellphone that won’t let up. Careful not to have it affect her driving foot, she presses her milk-tea thighs together, shoving her dress in between the middle inseams thereof with her left hand, all but her thumb, which, though insignificant, caresses her right thigh over the dress. She wrinkles her eyebrows and tells herself to focus on the road, while her pressing thighs squeeze its tension into her and against the constant wave yearning to overcome the flood walls. The tingles grow further upwards and sit just above her pubic bone: her lower abdomen muscles briefly twitch beneath. She responsively clenches harder as a burning sensation overwhelms her and keeps like so for thirty seconds, until finally she feels it start to subside, slowly retreating away into the depths of her swollen belly. Although she hides her bladder away, it irritation bloats her belly with pressure. She covers another five miles before her bladder comes knocking again, this time more prepared to defeat her hold. She felt her innards expand beneath that full belly. Though her thighs were already together, and only lightly pressed — having relaxed them thus far, after the prior hold — she resumed their prior tension, but her contracting bladder only shot more tingles into her perineum; so she responded with tighter squeezing, but with no avail: her tingling only growing stronger and crawling back up the front of her, forcing her pelvic lips to shrink inwards as she instinctually clenches her muscles very tightly. “Oooo! Come on, come on, come on! Why won’t you just let uppp!”, arguing with her bladder while clenching her teeth. She so badly wants to bring her feet together and closer so that she may stomp them in place alternatively, but her right foot is too preoccupied with the gas pedal. Instead, her left foot starts to pace, side-to-side, while left knee jams tightly into the other one. She shoves her left hand back in between the middle of her thighs, all fingers in this time. Her palm facing her inner right thigh, it grasps onto its sensitive skin and squeezes. It feels moist, her inner thighs no doubt red as they remain together and sweating, her dress absorbing some of it. And though her foot continues to dance and her left arm pressing its hand into her right thigh, the burning beneath her perineum returns: her bladder is vehemently contracting its hot sloshing pee into her walls. She covers two miles in her unrelenting desperation, until the drop of sweat riding down her forehead and delaying in her right eyebrow notifies her just how desperate her situation is: she’s sweating though the air conditioner is running. She removes her left hand to caress her lower left thigh, but as quick as she does so just as quick the tingles get worse, so she shoves her hand back in, but this time against herself: all the way down to the perineum, and it’s a whole swamp though she clasps herself over her dress. Another rushing tingle smashes into her perineum, and she softly moans: “Mmmph..”, her breath immediately stifling thereafter. She bites her right corner lip and rubs her left inner knee against her right, debilitated by the gas pedal. And, still, that burning feeling persists. She starts circling herself, immediately bringing in waves of pleasure—“No, no!.. I don’t want this..”, her mind demands to shake free, and her denying head signals. She stops herself, but her mind is reminded by her bladder’s unwavering fight. So she resumes. She circles again, and upon friction her eyelids weaken and bottom lip retreats, pressing itself into her upper teeth. She knows she doesn’t want to, but knows she needs something, anything, to help her ignore her bladder. And successfully she suppressing her urge, though it’s still there, masked under the brush of pleasure. She softly moans through bitten bottoms lips, squeezing her upper inner thigh muscles together and smothering the hand in between doing its work; but suddenly and accidentally her right foot pleasurably twitches, pressing on the gas pedal and accelerating her car suddenly forwards. She eyes escape her weak eyelids, widening to full attention while kicking her distracting hand out her moist self and onto her steering wheel. Her right foot immediately going for the brake and slams on it, overreacting. She doesn’t come to a stop, only significantly slowing herself down, but sufficient enough to throw her forward and accidentally squeezes a weak light-yellow spurt out from her raging bladder, soaking her light-pink panties warm. She doesn’t even feel it happen with the adrenaline rushing through her arteries. Only after coming back to her senses does she encompass a slightly cool clinging substance pressing in between her upper inner thighs. Her jaw flings open before a loud gasp blurts out, shocked she got herself so distracted to do this to herself. She quickly glances below, finding the red of her tucked dress against her soaked lips now dark red, having peed through her panties and into her red dress. “Fuck.. not the dress..”, her face wrinkles and inner voice disappointingly remarks. She quickly lifts the end of the dress settled halfway down her thighs up to her lower abdomen, untucking the wet spot out from between her wet lips, partially revealing them soaked through the translucent wetness of her now dark-pink panties. Dark-pink across the entire width and a nigh-dismissible circular dark patch hiding below her perineum and beneath her nigh-touching upper inner thighs: her pee got into the fabric of her dress below her pelvis. “Ahh, fuck, no! I so got it onto the seat!”, she scolds herself aloud. She slides her left hand between her wet upper inner thighs until the tips of her fingers touch the dress trapped between her butt and the seat, confirming she’s indeed wet the dress below her. “Ugh, nooo..”, her head shakes. One would think a light release would alleviate the pressure in her belly yet all this time she’s kept herself clenched whilst investigating her predicament, holding against an even more furious bladder, spoiled by its brief squirt of ecstasy and whining for more. “Ooo, come on, what is wrong with you..?”, she berates her swollen belly, her lifted dress revealing just how bloated she is and how red her skin has become. Her face winces and shrinks, eyes squinting and nose wrinkling with pursed lips as her spoiled bladder slams a wall of tingles into her sphincter, feeling her perineum burning with a vehement burning: it’s as though a kindling has been ignited between her upper inner thighs. And though the momentum of her hot flow burns into her sphincter, as if pressing a cigarette into her arm, a sensation having spread and now covering the whole front of her quivering lips, her soaked clinging panties have grown cold from the air conditioner running in her car. There’s nothing more enticing for release than a crotch burning to pee whilst covered in its cold remnants. Her lower belly, just above her pubic bone, begins to twitch micro-contractions again, a result of holding back her burning sphincter for a prolonged amount of time. They flutter out therefrom, converting into goosebumps that rumble like rolling stones against her skin. Prickling up her bloated belly and waist, up her breasts — wrinkling her nipples — and a portion diverging under her arms to the small of her back, finally converging back with the front at her trapezius muscles: her shoulders consequently shivering violently and the hairs on the back of her head standing up. Involuntarily, her head jerks and stoops forwards; she softly moans again, then shakes her head with annoyance, thinking she must look like she’s some possessed freak, contorting in her car. She slams her left leg back into her right, and casts its shin underneath her right calf muscle. She begins to swing it from beneath and out, over and over: every time her left shin is back underneath, she delays her leg there and twists her left foot over her right ankle, squeezing her twizzlered left leg tightly around her right, especially around her right thigh, trying warm her cold crotch with squeezing tension. She repeats this twizzler-ing process enough to slightly warming her cold self. And simultaneously, she compels her bursting bladder into obscurity, though its tingling only partially ringing into her awareness. She covers another twenty miles, committing to her twizzlered procedure another five more times during her commute. However, just short of the twenty-mile mark, she finally gains some peace of mind, relaxing, though keeping her thighs together, when no tingles emanated out from her belly, only feeling the pressure of her bloat. It was when she had covered just over twenty miles that her peace of mind was so short-lived: when a very sharp pang of pain radiated out of her right waist, she responsively throws her shoulders back and arches her back like a banana thinking a stretch would make it go away, but she only had made it worse. Upon arching her back, she inversely stretched out her bloat belly, sending a strong flowing urge swiftly into her crotch. She instinctively hunches forward as soon as she feels a few drops slip passed her sphincter and into her urethra. “Haaaa, no! No!.. fuckkk..”, as her leaking drops glide down her urethra, whilst her cut stream lags behind her clenched sphincter, and oozes out of her opening: they spread a short blanket of warmth into her cold-soaked panties, and the slight warmth spilling onto her cold skin shivers her whole body with heated pleasure. It’s like snuggling by a heater after having finished shoveling snow. Her mind soothed by the warmth ridding her crotch of its soaked coldness, but she is quickly thrusted back into the reality of her burning sphincter, to which her mind subconsciously dictates: “Just let go.” She bites her bottom lips just thinking about another spurt of hotness filling the coldness between her thighs, but shakes her head in refusal as she can’t release onto her seat, and especially not in her car, at least not any more. Yet, again, her subconscious prods into her awareness. “Just a little..?” She briefly squeezes her eyes shut while shaking her head again in refusal. “NO! No!..”, she refuses aloud to herself. And yet the downward flow of tingles only increases, reinforcing her subconscious urge. Her eyes begin to lightly water in its outer corners, blurring her vision whilst driving. She wipes her tingle-induced tears, but her eyes only burn upon being wiped and release more, not realizing her left hand had earlier touched her soaked self. Another wave of combined tingles rush down into her cold crotch, whilst her thighs begin to quiver with cold-inducing goosebumps. She begins scooting herself to the front of her seat and then back, allowing her to shift and rub her inner thighs against each other, though at the expense of her waist slightly twisting and irritating her yearning bladder. “Arrgh! Haa, Hoo, ooh! Come on, come on, just twenty more miles, just twenty more to go..”, she groans and exhales with every utterance. She looks as though she’s dancing in her seat with her shifting, getting closer to the steering wheel, then further, then closer, and so forth. But suddenly a massive urge smashes into her crotch, forcing her to freeze and stop shifting, needing to focus all her attention on tightly clenching herself still. She holds still, but her belly expands more. She clenches her pelvis muscles tighter, yet the burning only increases. With all her might, she presses her thighs so tightly together whilst clenching her sphincter her stillness ever so slightly fidgets from sheer rigidity. And though she holds herself in place like so, she can’t help but lose control over her breathing, gradually hyperventilating as she feels a few drops begin to leak passed her rigid self: “No!.. No!.. Come on!.. ooooOOOOH!.. mmmmMMMM!..”, she moans exasperatedly. Her mouth opens wide as if she’s silently orgasming whilst her warm drops seep down her urethra and spill its warmth over her cold skin, massaging her subconscious. Then another few burning drops seep past her clenched sphincter, though she’s frozen still as a block of ice. Her fidgeting turns into shaking, her muscles losing their constant-clenching strength, as though fatigued and shaking whilst doing one last weight-lifting pump. Her drops glide down her urethra and once again spill out of her opening, warming her cool skin. Her subconscious beckons: “You’re on your last legs.. just give in to this soothing warmth..” She shakes her head in denial, refusing to acknowledge she might just explode right in her seat for a minute of steamy hotness encroaching her cold lips. Her bladder having leaked twice, pushes full throttle, and, instead of drops, a trickle presses through from between the seams, her sphincter weakened by the part of her wanting to indulge her subconscious. “Haaw!..”, she orgasmically moans as hotness tantalizingly fingers it petrissage into her cold lips. “Mmmm..”, she suppresses the rest of her moan as she bites onto her bottom lips, whilst her yellow warmth flood the crevice between her outer lips and inner thighs. Her body shakes violently whilst this brush of warmth fills her cool panties. She accidentally floors her right foot onto the gas pedal as her body is tantalized with heated pleasure, which its accelerated jerk snapping her mind out of its hypnosis: she tries her best to clench harder. Consequently, her hyperventilation resumes as she fully acknowledges just how wet her upper inner thighs feel whilst her semi-loose-though-clenched, burning sphincter holds back the trickle. “Haa, Haa.. mmMM! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!..”, she exasperatedly belches as her bladder responsively strongly contracts back into her hold. Her pelvic lips, though shrunk inwards because of her clenched sphincter, once again involuntarily expand without her permission, causing her eyes to fill with tears of pleasurable release and her throat orgasmically expand, belching out a load moan of relief: “Haawyyeaaarrggh—MMMmmmm!!”, cutting her yelp once again behind bitten lips, letting the rest of it out as exhalation through her nose. Her hot flow harshly breaks through her weakened self, its yellow waters burning against her urethra walls and hissingly gushes into her dark-pink panties. It shines with exquisite light-yellow glow, exposing her red lips from sheer wetting-induced translucence, shifting the dark-pink spread-front upwards in a semi-circle fashion over her pubic bone and towards its panty waistline. Meanwhile, light-yellow pools between her panty-covered lips and pressed upper inner thighs, trickling down the makeshift milk-tea-colored channel in between her thighs, moderately streaming down the channel and spilling out from between her inner knees, spattering audibly onto the rubber carpet mat between her calves — a few drops trickle down her left calf, down the inner side of her shin and ankle, but suspend there — while her spattering yellow on the mat splatters its drops onto the insides of her shins. “Haa, Haa, fuck! Damn it! How can this be happening?!”, she yells at herself aloud, in disbelief that despite clenching as tight as she could her body just ignored all her effort. After splattering onto her shins, she finds wherewithal to cut her forced stream, hurting her urethra and sphincter as it burns. Her bladder having released for the first time a considerable amount, though still nothing compared to what remains in her belly, is satisfied for now, her stream-cutting clench capable of pulling back her urge, though is retreats with resistance. Seeing as she’s lost control twice, she floors it, becoming incredibly worried that she might empty herself with short bursts before she gets to her motel. She covers another ten miles without a peep of strong tingles, though receiving them nevertheless but weaker since her double release satiated her bladder. While covering this distance she gets a good idea of just how much she released: though her thighs were clenched enough to channel her warmth down its inner skin, half of her stream seeped down her soaked panties into her perineum and butthole, and pooled in those crevices, eventually passing through her dress and absorbing into the car seat below her. Having just passed ten miles, with thirteen remaining, another weak tingle creeps out from the depths of her belly. Before, it was her cold lips that yearned for reheating warmth, but now it was her inner thighs and perineum, though the latter was less cold than the former by virtue of her squeezed, folded crotch keep her body heat insulated therein. The weak tingle begins grow, this time, into stronger tingles, her bladder becoming hunger once again for release, beneath her belly and soon enough her thighs begin jiggling again. She swings her leg thigh vehemently back and forth, and so badly wants to move her right leg but can’t. Every time her left thigh swings wide open, a rush of cool air replaces the escaping warm air leaving her crotch and inner thighs. When she swings herself shut, the coldness of her inner left thigh presses into her right leg. She shivers again as the cold extracts goosebumps out of her skin It seems no matter what maneuver she tried, something was enticing her bladder to piss out its warming goodness. She slides her left hand across the front of her cool soaked panties, clasping herself tightly and pressing into her clenched self whilst continuing her swinging: at least she can keep some of her warmth tucked beneath her hand. As the tingles grow stronger, sure enough the burning returns, but this time her sphincter hasn’t got the energy to continuously hold her bladder back, and her subconscious exhausted much of its patience. It doesn’t take much time, clenched or unclenches, until a few drops begin to slip past her once again, oozing out of her urethra and spilling out onto her skin: it’s warmth spreading across herself and into the palm of her left hand in very brief pulses. Consequently, she starts swinging her left thigh harder, loudly smacking her jiggling left thigh into her right and turning her skin tender and red thereby, but more drops continue softly pulsate out of her and brief intervals of warmth spreading across her skin and the palm of her hand. And though she tinkles tiny drops, each time she holds them back to mere drops, her bladder invigorates with pressure. She tries to clench harder, but her sphincter refuses to tighten any further; and so as the pressure in her belly began to build up considerably and she occasionally releasing drops, she inevitably began to let out dribbling trickles instead of drops. “Haa!.. Haa!.. Haa!.. Hooo-ho-ho-ho, no, no, No, No, NO!..”, she began exhaling as the pressure reached a threshold, then started uncontrollably trickling without be able to effectively cut herself off. Her darkened pink panties fully soaked to waistline, her wet front having travelled over time, begins to twinkle grain-like glistening as her weak trickling slowly starts to shine through her panties, whose warmth-covered lips quiver as her weak sphincter muscles twitch with fatigue. Her bladder thoroughly entice, begins to fully contract, and her trickling grows strong without her permission. Her panties shine and lips become visible via translucence whilst her upper inner thighs flood with warmth. “Oooo! NO, NO, NO! WHY WON’T IT STOPPP!”, she yells to herself. She abruptly pulls over onto the side of the road, and bolts out of her driver’s side door. As she attempts stand up, she hunches forward and strongly hisses into her trickle-flooded panties and dress as she stumbles to feet outside her car. She has no wherewithal to clench herself as she’s standing, continuing to hiss into her panties, which are so fucking soaked a stream remains strong through the fabric, sloshing out her hot piss whilst her jiggling, narrowed-trickling-stream-covered inner thighs audible smack together, releasing that distinct sound of burbling squelches as flow is displaced by meeting skin. Her full-streaming self covers her knee-high red dress with streaks and splotches of dark red — not to mention the glaringly-glistening large jaggedly-circular splotch on the rear of her dress after continuously trickling into her car seat — soaking her dress, and leaking rapid messy drops of piss out and about from its end as she paces around her car to the other side, so that she could squat. Whilst she pace around the trunk of her car, her opening jiggling thighs allowed her stream to hiss without upper-inseam restriction, hosing out a direct strong stream of light-yellow perfectly out from between her thighs and loudly smack and patter the light-grey asphalt between her feet, splatter her piss onto the latter and onto the insides of her ankles and shins. This happens once more before she lifts her dress and squats. She bends down, totally out of breath and without an ounce of shame, lifts her dress and keeps it in place with one hand while pulling her totally-soaked panties with the other left hand to left and into her inner left thigh, pissing her strong stream into the fingers of her left hand as it pulls away the fabric. She loudly groans and exhales as her strong stream considerably strengthens when she fully relaxes, light-yellow flying far into the sandy dust at the side of road, loudly pattering into it. Her opening audibly hissing its high-pitch music as it vibrates out of her inner piss-soaked lips. Her piss rushes out, expanding out vertically from between her inner thighs. Eventually, her hissy gush dulls as her stream weakens, drawing a dark-grey line in the ground towards her as she nearly empties her bladder, until her lips weakly flow its light-yellow like a drinking water fountain that dribbles onto its own spout, her warm trickles finally lacking forward momentum and dribbling down her perineum and into her butthole, weakly trickling out therefrom and off her the bottom of her butt cheeks, forming a small of dark-grey asphalt beneath her pelvis. “A-A—Ahhhh!.. mmmm..”, her sigh of emptied relief stutters, then bitten bottoms lips beckon out from her nose. “Fuck. The car!..? How am I gonna drive the car now?!?!”, her mind alarmed, but so relieved of pressure is unable to determine a solution. She eventually drives her seat-soaked car to her motel, and changes in her car into something else more presentable; finally getting to her room, in which the first order of business was a hot shower. “Oh, wait, about am I going to do about the car?”, she remembers under the rain of the shower-head. “Ugh, tomorrow.. I’ll worry about it tomorrow..”, she too tired to bother..
  6. A battle for omo! Hello, we will begin with context. This is a world with few that have the abilty urinate. And those who can is a prime target for research, They will take by force is necassary. The ones who can pee, is hard life. With rarely any sort of toilet in sight they find this embarrasing as usually, they have to find a public place to relive them infront of many passer byers. Making it all the more embarrasing. While this is common for them, none have expeirended true desperation and (somehow) no accidents. This is because all who can pee. Have bladders that are normal , Literal iron bladder or small but powerful holding one. Also, omorashi....DIDNT EXIST. its only from the mishaps from our hero . That they will do something no person could of want to do Their are gangs, with people who can pee and decide and rule over areas. But i will tell when necassry. NOW YOUR HERO DESIGNER 2000 max stats are capped at 20 bladder normal: 10 holding and 10 size bladder of iron: 5 holding and 15 size mini but mighty: 15 holding and 5 size positive traits: (pick 2) Prepared: You start with +2 toilet paper and + pair of white panties. +intelligence ++caution Courage: You dont care where you pee just as long as it goes and has some form of privacy. ++confidence +speed -caution +defence Sporty: You are usually faster and stronger than the rest. ++speed +strength +defence ++overconfidence Nerd: You seem to be smarter than most. +++ inteligence +privacy needed Shy: You don't like having to pee, so you hold it slightly longer than some.+size +holding ++introvert Negative traits:(pick 2) Forgetful: You seem to lose forget things more easily even when to wipe. --intelligence -confidence Distracted:you seem in world of your own.-focus +leak chance -intelligence Brute: you may seem way stronger, but you are not a smart person. +++stength ---intellgence +defence Asap: you try to empty your bladder even when it is 95% empty. You havent trained to hold much. ++pee speed -holding and size Bullied. Everyone seems to hurt you more. +random encounters --defence +easlly embarrased And fianally Starting undergarments Plain white: just the average Tight panties: you love these panties although you outgrew them! +++bladder filling speed +++confidence Girly: pink panties with a cute pattern. You like them but you dont like others seeing as you find them embarrising to looked at by anyone who is not you. +confidence +++ embarrasment when seen +holding boyshorts: A let down for peekers although they are boring and uncomfortable. --embaressment when seen -confidence -speed Thong: pretty nice to wear while being loose fitting and comfortable, despite how little pee it can hide. +confidence +speed ---pee hidden +size General looks, clothing and age are up to you. I will stat the clothing after you haved picked. You are the only hope to show the world omo Pick well... all stats start on 10, the amount of + or - will decide how much is added or reduced to that stat. Some stats will be subclassed eg focus confidence and embarraesment
  7. I took these videos about a month ago and decided to share them now. I go on cruises often as they are my favorite vacation and I decided to have some fun one sea day. I decided to sit out on my balcony and just let a few leaks out into my blue boxer-briefs! It Was so much fun and felt so naughty. The only thing missing is someone there to join me in the fun. hope y’all enjoy as much as I did. if I had a wetting cruise buddy I’d probably die from excitement. I’m also gonna be doing some more wettings soon if anyone has any ideas! IMG_2872.MOV IMG_2873.MOV
  8. My 6th writing; for this one I wanna try writing from the viewpoint of my character Mali instead of third person, spice things up a bit! This time I'm putting Mali into her own shoes and having her describe a new wet experience of her own. Hope you enjoy! _______ Mali [F] - 20 y/o, developed an omo kink with the help of her boyfriend Yuta over the past year; always manages to find some way to wet herself even when unintentional. Yuta [M] - 20 y/o, developed an omo kink watching his girlfriend get into a variety of situations where she couldn't hold it any longer; sometimes wonders how it would feel to be on her end. ------- I just had an amazing day start to finish. I had off today, and I was staying over at Yuta's as usual. We had a mellow evening last night after I got home from work and ended up going to bed relatively early. However, last night I got into a mood and wanted some kinky stuff to happen. Not immediately because we were both tired, but something to get us going the next day. So, I spent my last few minutes awake mapping out the next day in my head - what I would drink, the timing of it all, what I would wear - and then tell Yuta the next day. ; ) And so that day came, we woke up and lied around for a few minutes. I discussed my plan with him, and he happily agreed to it. I was now set to drink, fill up my bladder, and grow desperate through the whole day. When I felt that I would be getting close to leaking, I would take a stroll to my local park and do my best to walk around as inconspicuous as possible, trying not to leak. Just thinking back to it turns me on, it's such an exciting premise! : ) And so off I went. The first thing I did out of bed was shuffling over to the bathroom and doing my last bit of business for a good portion of the day. Plus, this way, I could have more fun for longer, starting fresh instead of half full from the nighttime. Afterwards I dressed in comfortable sweats and a T-shirt, and it was about 9:30 or so in the morning when I grabbed a glass of water and headed outside with Yuta for some morning socials browsing for the both of us. It will never stop amazing me how much time can pass just scrolling without another care in the world, because by the time we moved onto a different activity, the time was already approaching 11:00. We made some breakfast, eggs and bacon, and hopped back into our bedroom to continue binging some Netflix series. It wasn't that good, so much that I won't even bother saying the name of it. Me and him did get a kick out of it though, there were some moments so poorly filmed, written, or acted that we actually found funny. With me during this time I had some cranberry juice that I downed a bit too quick. During our binge I started to feel some pressure under my stomach, making me shift from laying down to slouching semi-upwards. After the juice I poured some more water and continued binging. Around 1:00, I was nearly finished with that glass and really started feeling the heat. I was in all sorts of sitting positions, cross-legged, legs together, crossed in my lap, and flat on the floor. At this point I couldn't sit still for long before switching again, maybe a few minutes or so at a time. "Sitting still" wasn't even an accurate description, since I fidgeted my hips and legs the whole time, too. I even liked to lay on my stomach a bit here and there - the pressure on my bladder against the solid floor felt amazing - that was until after a minute or so when it became a concern whether or not I was actually going to leak a bit! ^~^ Yuta glanced over at me a few times and kept silent, but I did catch him a few times crossing his legs out of my view hiding something, definitely not for the same reason I was crossing mine! It was 1:40 in the afternoon when we stopped that show, and it was also the time I finished that glass of water! If I had to guess, I'd say that I had somewhere near 2 cups or 0.4 L at the time and I was very aware of it. The squirming began, including the physical motions necessary to distract myself. I talked to Yuta about it for the first time since the morning, telling him how I was growing desperate. He said he could tell, and that it reminded him that he too was starting to feel a need to go. He excused himself from the room and headed into the bathroom. And fun fact!: our bathroom is very close to the bedroom and only one wall apart, so I could hear him splashing into the toilet and imagined to myself how good that would feel if it was me in there! He finished up and flushed, and I had to try SO hard then and there not to leak. I had to stand to keep myself in check. Yuta came out and saw me standing, tip-toed with my hands over my front legs. I felt so embarrassed that I turned away from him to sit back down again, all the while I'm pretty sure he got hard again! -v- Seeing as I was already desperate, I made a deadly choice that ended up being my downfall in the end (no pun intended), which was brewing a cup of coffee for me and Yuta. The brewing itself was difficult to get through, hearing more liquid pitter patters was the last thing I needed at that moment! I got the two mugs and waddled back over to our room where we started yet another sub-par flick, this time a movie. With each sip of coffee I took from then on I felt on its way to add to my already near-full bladder. I was so concentrated on that, my position, and distracting myself that I couldn't even pay attention to the movie! The sound just went in one ear and out the other! I don't think we got too far into it though, because at 2:14 precisely, a switch inside me flipped and I knew what had to be done. I shot up standing, Yuta slightly surprised because he was so into the movie, and told him to get ready to go. He got the message quick, and was going to get his keys when I decided to change. I stripped from my comfort clothes and started the painstakingly slow process of getting some new clothes on. I picked out black underwear, a nice blouse and some gray jeans and fit them on, only that the jeans took five times as long to get on. XD Trying to put my legs into the holes was a challenge, compressing my bladder each attempt I took, successful or not. I finally got them on and pulled them up. Buttoning them put extra pressure on my bladder as well. I began to come to my senses that this wouldn't be as much of a walk in the park as I thought it would be. It's nearly 2:20 now, and I was making my way down to the park one step at a time. At a glance you may haven't noticed anything off about me, but if you walked behind me or at a closer distance you would've been able to tell that I was not doing ok. I was walking with my hips swinging side to side. I wasn't walking, I was more putting one leg in front of the other over and over again, getting myself closer and closer to my destination. Everything was becoming hazy to me, how intense I was holding back my urge to let loose at any moment. Yuta was by my side, helping me when I needed it but also doing his best to stand back and watch me with his penetrating stare when he got the chance, that sly ass! 5 minutes later we made it to the public park. People were walking their dogs, elderly couples took strolls and sat down on benches, trees swayed, and I was fighting on the frontlines! I was sweating although it wasn't even warm out, my legs were shut together tight, my fists clenched, and I can't even begin to imagine the look I had on my face - a mix of desperation and a strained natural public expression. I felt only tightness and tingling at my crotch, my pussy already drenched from the excitement I forced myself through. Although it was a struggle, putting on this show in public was a turn on I didn't think I would enjoy as much as I did! And then it started... *fsh* I made a "peep" sort of gasp. Yuta quickly raised his head to glance. It was brief, but a small burst filled my underwear. My hands shot down and I leaned forward. I felt around for the damage, and felt a small wet spot on the front half of my underside. My jeans weren't too thick, which added to the risk-factor of someone noticing my leaks, making it more exciting. Yuta was also doing his best to hide his excitement at his crotch from any eyes that may be watching. My time was going to be running out soon, and I had to do my very best to cover it up. I perked my head up and scanned all around for a bathroom. I couldn't see one, but I could see a sign telling me that there was a bathroom ahead of it, less than 0.1 km away. That was my glimmer of hope in not publicly humiliating myself to the maximum. I felt a small wave of relief upon seeing that sign. A small wave? I thought to myself. Relief?! *pssshhh psshh psh psh* I shoved my hands into my pussy from outside my jeans trying to stop the leaks. My legs spread apart, my knees turned inward and bent down. My whole underside was drenched, even dripping a small bit, and Yuta got a front row seat to the show trying to shield the view of my small accident. This was the point where I really regretted the cup of coffee and how it flowed right through me. I had to hurry. Hunched over I shuffle from side to side at a hasty pace, determination mixed with lustful sensation in my eyes. One hand acted as a guard for my groin and the other along with my shoulder helped my stride in moving forward. Few people noticed but those who did understood pretty quick what I was going through. They silently related to their own predicaments they've experienced, all the while unaware of my true intentions. Yuta following closely behind helped mask these intentions further by making it seem truly like an accident (which it technically still was ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ). We finally made it to the sign, and the bathroom was in sight. All we had to do was make it there and we'd both be in the clear. I could see that it was unisex too. Perfect! I thought. We trudge through the remaining distance undeterred. I felt a *pss* and a *dribble* escape from me, and turn into a constant leakage, but I didn't care. I didn't care that my hand was getting messy, I didn't care that dark streaks started to form on my jeans, and I didn't care that my golden rain was trickling and splashing onto the park's paved road. I was enjoying the hell out of this, as much as I was suffering. My crotch was totally wet with a small constant flow making its way out. But finally, to our amazement, we made it to the unisex. I swing open the door and stumble in, not hesitating to leave a trail behind me. There's enough walking space to fit several people in the room. Yuta quickly jumps in behind me and shuts the door. I scramble to undo my pants. I try to undo my button. It doesn't budge. My bladder had swollen so much that my waist grew a margin bigger, making my jeans, and my button, tighter. "Oh fuck, NO!!~" I shout out. "What's wrong??" Yuta asks worriedly. "THE BUTTON'S STUCK!!" *frmm* *trickle* *splash splash* I stumble around trying my hardest to undo the stupidest button I've encountered in my life. Yuta told me it was about 5 seconds but to me it felt like several minutes; I finally managed to slip them off my waist. My piss has been high pressure bursting through a faulty but tight hole, but now is in full throttle as I still remain standing. Yuta has backed up as far as he could into the corner of the bathroom, but still can't avoid getting splashed. I throw my soaked jeans down to the ground around my ankles, crouched over in my last attempts to restrain my stream. I turn facing away from the toilet and realize that my panties were still on! *dribble splash splash* Urgently I fiddle to get them loose and swing them down with the jeans. My stream in this instance was directed all into my panties and jeans and frantically scramble to sit down. I land with a plop and... *fshhhhhhhhhhhhhh* - the noise that filled that bathroom to the brim. I looked around. There was a huge white-gold lake in the center of the bathroom, a smaller but sizable pond of it in front of the toilet, a splotched toilet seat, and nearly every square inch of the floor sprayed from the splash as I was fiddling with my jeans and trying to sit down. Yuta stood in the corner, his pants stained also from the splash. He was breathing heavy, as if feeling the same way I was feeling; he was also turned on. My entire lower half as well as both of my hands were dripping wet. The same could be said about my clothes below the waist. I continued reliving myself for another minute, the pressure dropping in intensity until all was reduced to a dribble. Me and Yuta laughed in ecstasy at the climax that unfolded. Before cleaning up, we both satisfied each other's lustful needs. We calmed down and cleaned up the mess with the paper towels that the bathroom conveniently had. It was a long process but eventually everything was dry. We're getting ready to leave when I realize that I'll have to put back on my already wetted jeans. I don't mind doing this, but I didn't need others knowing that I soiled myself completely at 20. XP I put my jeans into the sink and completely drench them, making it all look all one uniform shade of grey. All better. Me and Yuta take our leave and head home. It's the same day and I'm writing this from bed, still on some adrenaline reminiscing today's events. Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed reading about my clutz-ass! ; ) _______ Thanks for reading! It was lots of fun writing this in first person. I hope I kept the tone and word choice consistent enough, and sorry if I didn't :[ . I wanna give credit again to a favorite artist of mine Rune (https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/25170019) for some inspiration art for Mali's outcome in this ordeal! - (https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/98560804 and https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/98624593) I hope you enjoyed, and please let me know of any ideas you have regarding what I write about next! : )
  9. Have always wanted to post here but been too nervous until now. But last month I wet myself for the first time outside my house and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I had booked a cabin for the weekend to celebrate graduating with my girlfrend. she isn't into wetting but never shames me for it, just doesn't really indulge (although she did once, story for another time...) it was the last night at the cabin and she had gone to bed while i waited for the fire to die down. it took longer than i expected. i'd had a few cocktails and at this point was starting to need to pee. i was waiting and waiting for the embers to go out but i started to get really desperate. i squirmed a little as i felt a wave hit me and almost lost control. i grabbed my crotch, considering going in but still wanting to keep an eye on the wind and the ash. i wished i could just let a little bit out to take some of the pressure off. but then i thought... why shouldn't i let a little out? i was in the middle of nowhere, i was in my boxers but i had more inside. what would be so bad about just a little leak? slowly, butterflies in my stomach, i began to unclench. a tiny dribble formed in my pants and my dick throbbed as a thrill rushed over me. i looked around and as the next wave of pee asked to be released... i didn't stop it. i was peeing my pants, full force now. i couldn't believe it. i let out a moan as i got wetter and wetter. the sound of the pee trickling off the chair onto the dirt below made me swell, and i started to get hard as i continued to let it all out into my now soaking underwear. suddenly, a porch light went on in the cabin across the way. i don't think she noticed, but for a split second i made eye contact with the woman as she walked to her car, who smiled briefly at me as i flooded myself, too scared to move. by the time she'd driven off, i was soaked. i couldn't take it anymore. i reached into my pants and stroked myself, dick glistening with pee. in seconds, i exploded with one of the most powerful orgasms i've ever experienced. i laid on the ground under the stars for a good hour, running my finger over the wet fabric. some time later, i felt a slight urge to pee again and let the trickle out naturally and without even thinking about it, slipping my hand in my waistband to feel the warmth. i finally had a shower and headed inside, the fire safely extinguished and my unplanned ecstasy achieved.
  10. Summary: A female clubber is bursting for the bathroom while on a long bathroom qeueue. When she can't hold it any longer, she proceeds to take matters into her own hands before having an accident. Plot: Damn it! How long is this line going to be. I have to pee sososo bad." Gwenndolinne Masterson thought to herself. Since 12 midnight until now (1 am), she waiting on line for the ladies' room inside the Pheonix night club. As usual, Gwenndolinne was bursting beyond belief and needed to urinate so badly. The pressure just kept mounting upon her bladder as well as her poor urethra. Gwenndolinne always indulged in a good time at night clubs. She loved the music, dancing, good food, and the liquids. Specifically, she loved the soda, fruit punch, and red wine. Gwenndolinne just can't help herself and in the presence of these liquids, she consumes lots of it with her food. And she just can't help but ignore her need to go until she is severely desperate to bursting. And right now she was bursting big time. Gwenndolinne bobbed up and down, keeping her right leg double crossed, standing bent over, fighting her incessant wave of desperation. The pressure just kept mounting as all the fluids and food collected into her urethra. "Damn it why is this line not moving. Hey get outta there!" Gwenndolinne shouted followed by an "Oh no-nononononono no no oh no." Gwenndolinne almost spurted from speaking loudly and with passion. She had to go and soon or else. The line didn't move much except for 7 people out of what was a total of 25 people. There were 18 people still in front of her and it was pretty clear this line wasn't going to move any faster. One 21-year old girl in place #4 near the door was holding her crotch and bobbing up and down, couldn't take it anymore. "Excuse me excuse-" but she was cut short by the person at the door entrance. "A-a (shaking her head in a no-way manner)! Get to the back of the .... seriously?" The girl replied "I can't hold it. I just can't hold it oh gaawwd!" running inside while unable to stop wetting herself. Her trail of desperation was followed by complaints and cursing. One woman (40 years) said "Yeah kid run inside! If I wasn't desperate, I would-ah (wincing) eeeeeemmmmmmmmmm ....". Gwenndolinne Masterson couldn't believe what she saw. Here she was and number 19 on the line. And yet some girl jumped the line. "Who was this bimbo that grabbed her ticket for relief?" Gwenndolinne wondered. Gwenndolinne couldn't handle the proverbial smack in the face as her wave of desperation was made worse by her bladder contracting. It was as if her bladder saw this and protested with anger. Gwenndolinne applied more pressure against this pressure by contracting her urethra even more. She was already in so much pain and had to endure more. "This reminds me of the time I had to wait for Piper to get out of the bathroom and I had to piss in the garbage bag.". (Please see my fiction Desperate Morning). Gwenndolinne Masterson kept telling herself she would make it soon so as to not make her need worse. But time was ticking forward. It was 1:15 pm and still only two persons went inside while the girl from before (wetting herself) still didn't come in. The other woman (from before yelling at the pissing girl) couldn't take it anymore and ran inside. Since she was ..... well ... as big as Nyla Rose (AEW wrestling star) who could stop her as she pushed everyone out of the way. One girl (22 years old) lost her footing and landed on her butt. Sadly she began urinating in her jeans. "Noooooooooo!" the girl screamed. Gwenndolinne continued to bob and pee dance while leg double crossed online. At one point, her need became such an unnatural wave of desperation that cause her to crouch down. Wincing, teeth clenching, and whimpering, Gwenndolinne had to muster more of her strength not to let a single drop escape her. She has had accidents before but this time she wanted to avoid that. She wasn't going to let herself be (as her friends call her) Peeing Gwen. She hated that and she hated her stupid gluttonous nature for waiting too long at this point. She was determined to stay dry. After 20 seconds, she got her need under control but her urethra was paining her. She desperately wanted relief and wished the line moved faster. Suddenly, she and others could hear yelling inside the ladies' room. The female nearest the door could hear this. "You toilet hog! We need the toilet and you're enjoying phone sex? I just pissed myself and you just wave it off. That's it!". "Screw you!". Female bouncers came into the bathroom and hurried both women out. Two went in as three came out. Gwenndolinne was still trying to keep it together for the next 40 minutes. In that time she kept thinking positive thoughts, such as the time she went fishing with her father up-state. She remembered how peaceful it was and how quiet the environment behaved. This thought always helped to calm her nerves no matter the situation. But how long would it last? During this 40 minutes, another female (27 years) with jet-black hair, stiletto heels, a revealing top and a micro-mini skirt couldn't take it and ran off the line. She grabbed a huge beer mug from a customer about to ask for more beer. She lifted up her skirt and shoved the mug into position and released her pent up ocean. "Yes yes oh yes y-yes sweet relief. Oh man!". The customer behind her shouted at her to clean the mug while the staff told her to pay for damages. She casually waved her hand stating she was rich and would pay easily. At the end of the 40 minutes, Gwenndolinne couldn't take it anymore. Her will power was not enough to deal with the wave of desperation that reached super ultra maximum pressure against her poor urethra. Something had to give. And it could be her body that badly screamed neurotransmitters to let go like you wouldn't believe. Her mind lost it. She ran off line and looked for a plant pot or a corner not occupied. She began resorting to her frantic foolish self she tried to avoid becoming. She looked all over and saw not a single plant pot or an unoccupied corner that no one would see in her. She ran out the door and looked both sides. To her right was never ending buildings with alleys that were filled with people already. To her left was the same thing, except for one alley that seemed to be devoid of anyone. "Perfect!" she said to herself and ran over there. Gwenndolinne was overcome with much relief and wanted to get there asap. But she had to be careful not to cause herself to have an accident. She was wearing strappy shoes with heels and each step she took combined with her ectasy for relief and her need to go threatened to cause her to go. But she remained focused and made it to the alley of question. "Finally." Gwenndolinne cried with a smile only to find men taking a bathroom trip or vomiting. She was horrified by the horrible sight of biological waste and the numerous people. There was no privacy. And worse! The alley had a bad odor. Some looked like they were not from tough neighborhoods while others were skinny guys just waiting to be punched. Gwenndolinne stood there swaying her knees while bent forward, thinking about her next move. But where was she going to go. Suddenly, she felt a small dribble travel down the middle and that ended her indecisiveness. She ran past all the weirdos and seedy people, ran into the darkened areas of the alley and stopped behind a trash can. She saw the ground had a pot hole leading into the sewage. She made up her mind. Gwenndolinne positioned herself over this pot hole and readied to lower herself when another wave of desperation so powerful it nearly punched a jet of her pent up golden falls. She winced and gritted her teeth so hard she might have as well as caused her teeth to travel back upwards. "Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" she whimpered. This wave immobilized her to the extent that she felt moving might cause her to leak. But her resolve finally took over and she lowered herself. She lifted up the hem of her short skirt halter top dress, revealing she went commando. She opened her legs apart and made one last look down to ensure she properly over the pot hole. It was so dark she couldn't be completely sure but time was running out. She counted in her mind 1..2..3 and let go. A jet of her urine the appearance of a fire hose jet emitted itself from her nether region. Several smaller streams deviated from the main jet into the pot hole as well as rivulets emerged down the middle dripping profusely. Some of the rivulets went down to her buttocks nearby her genital region and dripping off the skin of her buttocks. Gwenndolinne almost fell backwards from the sweet ecstasy of relief. Her bladder deflated as well as her urethra feeling the pressure of the flow of her urine rapidly moving by. Her urine sizzled as steam emerged from the pot hole. It was hot and the sight according to the others was hot too. They couldn't believe someone did this in front of them. Suddenly, a voice could be heard calling out "Fuuuuuzzzzzzzz!". Everyone scrambled out of there to avoid the police, leaving Gwenndolinne by herself still urinating. A police patrol slowly drove by the alley. During the driveby, the driver looked in the direction of the alley. Gwenndolinne stood there frozen and crouched next to the trash pail still urinating. Her stream did start to trickle but she remained still. One officer asked if his partner saw anyone. The driver couldn't see anything and continued driving. Her stream slowly tricked to a stop and once she pushed out the last few drops, she proceeded to get back on her feet. She carefully left the alley and inspected the coast. Majority of the street was empty as people carefully left quickly. Gwenndolinne left as well and made her way home asap. She didn't bother to wipe the dried up urine off her bottom and the few rivulets that traveled down the inside seams of her thighs. Gwenndolinne proceeded to plop on her bed and worry about it the next morning. And the laundry too. FYI: Gwenndolinne is 25 years old.
  11. Even tho i`m not approved yet i couldn`t wait to make an interactive, heh- Hope u guys will enjoy! I put alot of effort into fiction, especially since english is not my first language. ~-~ Riley have finally arrived - a lonely, yet good looking cabin in the woods have been waiting for her half a day. The girl giggled in excitement, pulling the rusty keys from under the filthy rug. The house seemed pretty good, yet the rent was really cheap. Not like she hates it, she is rather happy to have such a nice place for such a small price, it`s just.. Suspicious. Why would the owner of the place get rid of it rapidly like that? However, getting out of thoughts, Riley slowly opened the door and walked into the living room - and it also looked better than she expected. Well, at least, it didn`t look abandoned - the owner probably cleaned up all the mess day before the girl arrived. How sweet of them. She threw her bag at the couch and sat next to it, not even bothering to lock the door - she`s way to exhausted to even look around, and would rather have some rest instead. The girl relaxed and closed her eyes - finally, a monthly vacation away from civilization she has been dreaming about for so long. Riley imagined all the things she can do here - explore the nature, draw landscapes, probably even do a photoshoot.. Did she bring her camera? Nevermind, theres plenty of other things she can do. Thinking of everything, Riley didn`t even notice as she fell asleep peacefully, cuddling her bag with one hand. Riley woke up to a palpable urge to pee and quickly left the couch, looking around in search for the bathroom, but it didn`t look like it could be in here - a living room and a kitchen were attached to each other, so there is probably no room for the toilet. She hurried to the second floor and checked the first room she saw - a bedroom. The bed sure looks comfy and is probably much softer than the couch, but there is no time for a nap, she would probably wake up soon.. And wet. She walked to the other door - the guest room. Damn, they really have a guest room in a cabin in the woods? It`s not like anyone would go that far for a cup of tea or anything. She opened the third door - finally, a bathroom! She rushed to the toilet and raised the lid, but as soon as she did - a strong jet of water squirted out right in front of her, splashing like a tiny fountain. Riley stood there shocked for a few seconds, before closing the lid again. She could call the owner of the house and complain right now, but it wouldn`t really make much sense - she should`ve expect something like that from a price like this. She also could leave and dismiss the rent, but she really didn`t want to do that - she just moved in and she couldn`t afford any other place.. She sighed, leaving the bathroom - a month without a toilet is not that big of a deal, right? Well, her bladder doesn`t think so. She felt the urge to pee again, and pressed her thighs together, looking around the hall. ~-~ Riley has to think of something - she can`t live without peeing for a month! Or can she? ~-~ A) Pee outside. Disgusting! She would never do that by her own will - she is not an animal. But, i mean, where else are you supposed to go in that situation? B) Pee in the shower. Yuck, Riley will never step in there again. C) Look around the house - there might be something else she could use... D) Hold it til the solution comes by itself. It`s supposed to happen someday, right?
  12. From the album: AlphaHyoudou's Art

    Girls toilets are not always available, so you have to improvise with the closest thing -w-
  13. In the past, most women's pad and pantyliner commercials opted for the mysterious "blue liquid"--regardless of whether they are intended for period or bladder leaks or both. Part of this is the intended ambiguity of what the woman will need it for (even Poise back in the day often advertised itself coyly as "for all your little leaks"), but also there has particularly been a reluctance to clearly show urine soaking a pad. Here's a typical sort of absorbency shot, using something blue (even though it's clearly a pad intended for pee): Kapture 2022-07-01 at 11.47.47.webm Lately I've noticed this changing. So here are some ads that actually show urine-colored liquid on women's pads, with no ambiguity involved. First, a couple of ads with a small yellow trickle from creative sources (meant to remind women of the things they drink that cause more leaking... coffee, kombucha, etc). (direct links if video doesn't work -> https://www.ispot.tv/ad/Z8mm/poise-ella and Kapture 2022-07-01 at 11.41.55.webm Kapture 2022-07-01 at 11.52.14.webm Then, the "poise one" pads which are for both kinds of leaks. These are clearly another attempt by Poise to get their pee pads onto the "normal" end of the pad aisle since they're greatest marking problem is that women with incontinence would still rather buy Always etc or anything which has a period use too, so that it isn't as embarrassing to buy the pad. No one will know which kind of leak you're having in these : ) (link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdcnSK_twv0 ) Finally, the greatest official advertisement yet, which shows a realistic amount of urine-colored liquid flooding both an Always Discreet and a Poise pad. (full link: https://www.amazon.com/vdp/0a5ce2b9739c47d0aae2a53934bbb29c?product=B09PFDZTPS&ref=cm_sw_tw_r_ib_dt_Tn98djPButE9D ) Kapture 2022-07-01 at 12.05.18.webm These webm videos don't embed great on mobile, but show on desktop fine I can insert here as mp4 if needed.
  14. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Ever wonder what those female urinals from Bayside Fixtures actually look like? One commissioner did --- and with the added twist that these two ladies were way too desperate to figure out how to use them correctly... Maybe Bayside could come up with a clearer design, too! XD
  15. What if eleven, when using her powers. Leak pee instead of a nose bleed. How would this affect the show?
  16. She's completely leaking. Thanks to Chivi-Chivik for the art

    © Gelbooru.com

  17. How do you think my character maker is? https://www.omorashi.org/topic/78760-my-first-storybattle/
  18. Title says what needs to be said Here’s is also a rip IMG_2677.MOV
  19. Guys, the time has come for a change! I've made the big mistake of creating to many different threads in the art section, that now I can't keep up with everything anymore lol So, after thinking about it for a while, I decided to open one last thread, this one, where all of my art is going to get posted in the future. This includes my random pee illustrations, the "olympeecs" series and maybe some other fun ideas that I'm planning for the future - only "ethnic bladders" will remain as a separate thread. Maybe I'm being dramatic right now, but this decision, as unsignificant as it is, does feel like the start of something new for me, the beginning of a new chapter for my omo art and I'm excited to see how things are going to turn out. There's probably going to be a lot of experimenting around in the beginning since I'm still trying to find an artstyle that suits me and my illustrations. For everyone who's been following me and my art this is the place were you can come and (hopefully) enjoy my illustrations from now on! ... and for those who just discovered me and wonder what my art is about, it's mainly desperation and just made it scenarios with original female characters, so if this is something you like then you came to the right place
  20. Question for anyone who's had a genuine accident: Have nerves played a part in it? That is to say, were you desperate to go but starting wondering about what if you actually did wet yourself, and that thought made you nervous, which just made you have to go more? Or did you start leaking, get scared that someone might see, and consequently lose what control you had left?
  21. Trying to fill up on some fluids so I can finally have an accident before the sun comes up lol. About 2 and a half hours until that happens
  22. yeaoksure

    Nila but bigger

    From the album: Yeah ok, sure ^^;;

    Wanted to make another piece of another one of my OCs, also kind of a redraw of this old piece: https://www.omorashi.org/gallery/image/55894-nila/ Turns out, since that piece she's REALLY expanded her capacity~
  23. Poor Orange's bladder was so full with his juice, it even leaked a bit. Well it seems that Blue deсided to help Orange empty his bladder~
  24. ~Acquired Taste~ Here is my new story, it will be a stand-alone ‘limited series.’ I wanted to try something new that did not link together with my other stories. This one focuses more on desperation, although there will be wetting too (just not as much as my other stories). This first chapter is pretty long, but the next few will be shorter. Chapter 1 - Drove to the Brink Kyra's delicate fingers carefully and deliberately twisted the dial on her locker. She opened the door and selected the appropriate books for her first period. Unlike other more lax high school seniors, her locker served as the epitome of tidiness. Color-coated folders and notebooks lined the shelves, facilitating her finding of the required materials. Before shutting the door, Kyra checked her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the inside door. Deep brown eyes, olive skin, and straightened brown strands of hair stared back at her. She didn't think much of her looks, but her father's Filipino half gave her a unique beauty amongst the relatively non-diverse private high school. She adjusted the silver pendant necklace around her neck - a gift from her parents for her 18th birthday. The jewelry was cute and dainty, exuding the same aura as Kyra herself. Her conservative upbringing appreciated this - Kyra had no problem exhibiting her graceful femininity. Kyra then shut her locker and headed towards the bathroom. She didn’t actually have to pee that bad, but a tiny, overactive bladder had taught her to take any chance she could get. Any stray leaks would stand out on her khaki uniform shorts. She tugged on the hems as she walked down the hall - technically, the rules required girl’s shorts to be at or below the fingertips, but due to Kyra's height and proportions, they stretched just a few inches below mid thigh. No teacher would mind though - she was one of the more well-behaved students. Kyra didn’t mind either; although more modest than her average classmate, she did feel a slight rush at revealing a bit of leg in a place where doing so was not technically permitted. She did make sure to tuck in her navy blue collared uniform shirt, however - a rule much more strictly enforced. After relieving herself and exiting the bathroom, Kyra refilled her water bottle at the drinking fountain. She then traversed down the hall towards her homeroom just in time for the first bell. She walked into the room of uniformly-dressed piers and sat at her assigned seat in the left-middle row. “A little later than usual,” a voice to her right softly stated. Kyra turned and met the hazel eyes of her friend Vanessa. “Yeah, I had to turn around before I left my neighborhood - almost forgot my paperwork for the DMV.” Vanessa’s finger flicked a strand of her light-brown hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah, I forgot you had to renew your license today. I just did mine last week,” noted the dirty-blonde classmate, her birthday mere days before Kyra’s. “It’s super boring, but at least I was in and out pretty quickly.” The two friends chatted a bit longer until the second bell, signaling the time for their teachers to take attendance. They then parted ways to their first class. The day progressed fairly normal for Kyra, no tests or exams disrupted her usual schedule. Nor did the pinching twinge in her bladder - her typical school day often consisted of a consistent need to pee. Kyra’s small bladder almost never felt empty, especially when the health-conscious student ensured proper hydration by constantly sipping on her water bottle throughout the day. This usually did not matter, as Kira knew she could hold it until lunch, her first opportunity for a bathroom break. However, this did mean a rather uncomfortable fourth period class. Like most days, Kyra subtly squirmed in her seat, repositioning her legs often. Throughout the often-dry classroom lectures, her strained muscles never ceased to remind her of their urgency. Kyra didn’t mind, however. Her bladder became a sort of friend to her. She knew she would be able to address this need shortly, so there was no need to worry. Soon her body’s begging ringing in her head was replaced by the ringing of the classroom bell. Finally, lunch time. Kyra walked as fast as the strict school rules would allow down the hall and to the nearest bathroom. She had to be sure she made it first - if her particular timing strayed off its schedule, she risked punishment from her body in the form of a leak. Somedays, Kyra would lose the race and have to wait for one of the stalls to open, resulting in a couple warm leaks - never enough to show on her shorts, however. Today, Kyra was punctual. She slipped into the empty stall with enough time to spare to cover the seat with a layer of toilet paper before sitting down. A light trickle preceded a ferocious hissing and prominent splatter into the waters of the bowl. Kira exhaled a victory sigh. Another small battle won - one more to go as the day ended. Lunch only marked the halfway point; Kyra still had another half day to hold before her next bathroom break. After washing her hands, Kyra topped off her water bottle and headed towards the cafeteria. She ate a modest-sized meal, spending most of the lunch period talking with Vanessa and the other members of her small but close-knit group of friends. Kyra didn’t notice herself drinking more water than usual as she chatted and laughed with the other girls. The following class period, as most students slumped in their seats from post-meal drowsiness, Kyra forced her eyelids to remain open. A small tickle in her bladder - although tiny - could escape if she lost consciousness for even a second. Kyra already faced the curse of using the bathroom at least three times before bed. The tiny pinch escalated into an annoying poke as the next two periods progressed. Kyra’s sneaky holds and leg-jitters were not foreign in her Spanish class, however. The pinches and twinges of her bladder blended into the background of her common reality, as the realization that she could relieve herself after one more class period eased her mind. No need to panic. Soon the bell ring signaled the completion of this current obstacle with only one more hurdle remaining. Kyra rushed to her final class of the day, sitting in her assigned seat in the back rock. She sat tensely at her desk with her front teeth resting above her lip. Still no worries. She jotted down notes and paid close attention to the teacher’s presentation, shoving any thoughts of desperation to the back of her mind. Kyra smiled at the ring of the final bell. Another day, another successful hold. However, the teacher shouted out one last announcement: “Will the following students stay after class? I have a few questions and clarifications on your exams from last week. Mason, Keegan, Peter, and Kyra." Kyra’s blood cooled at the call of her name. Her skin warmed. ‘It’s okay,’ she told herself. She could hold on a bit longer. Kyra repeated this interalmonlogue over and over, even as the first classmate struggled to answer the teacher’s questions: “I’m having trouble reading your handwriting here. Can you tell me what this says?” “Uhhh… Ummm…… Let me see… Huh, umm…..” Kyra’s feet tap-danced on the floor. Although normally softspoken, she wanted to scream. ‘Hurry up you idiot!’ Though her thoughts quickly apologized to her own internal outburst ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just have to pee really bad!’ However, Kyra’s mental anguish grew less and less apologetic after her eyes darted towards the clock - ten minutes had already passed. 3:10 pm. The DMV closed at 4:00. If she was going to make it on time before they closed, she needed to hurry. The dual forces of her dire bodily need and stress of reaching her errand on time tugged on her from either direction. 3:15. Another pressurized pulse from her bladder nearly caused Kyra to explode from anxiety. Finally, after twenty grueling minutes, the teacher was able to piece together the slow classmate’s chicken scratch with the minimal help she received. The next two students sorted their problems out relatively quickly, but each second still sent another shockwave through Kyra’s abdomen. Her wobbling knees approached the teacher. The teacher laid Kyra’s test on her desk and pointed her red pen towards one of the questions. “Looks like you accidentally circled two answers for question 11. Normally I would count this wrong, but given your excellent performance and good behavior in this class, I thought I’d let this slide. Could you tell me which answer you meant to circle?” Kyra appreciated her teacher’s generosity, but her bladder did not appreciate the excessive stalling. She couldn’t read the test question standing straight up, so she had to bend over slightly. Kyra winced at the intense pressure crushing down below from the slight movement. It felt as though a steam roller was compressing her bladder as she bent over. Her mind could hardly focus on reading the questions. “I-I meant to circle answer B,” Kyra stated through her clenched jaw. “Good choice,” smiled the teacher. “That’s all. Enjoy the rest of your day!” Kyra attempted a friendly grin over her grimace before turning towards the door. Another fist of anxiety gut-punched her when she glanced at the clock before walking out the door - 3:35 pm. She knew the DMV was over twenty minutes away. She sprinted towards her locker, hoping the ‘no running in the halls’ rule wouldn’t apply now that the school day had technically ended. Her fingers frantically twisted her locker dial, but she missed the correct number twice and had to start over. After the third attempt, Kyra turned the knob to the last number, but the door wouldn’t open. She wanted to scream. Her blood pressure sky-rocketed. With a deep breath, Kyra composed herself and tried one more time. This time, she slowly and steadily rotated the knob, ensuring she reached each number correctly as she recited the combination in her head. Sure enough, the door opened. Kyra grabbed her keys and whatever books she needed for her homework and threw them into her bookbag. By the time her locker door slammed shut, she was already halfway down the hall. Each stride felt like a kick to her abdomen. Kyra didn’t have time to waste though. With super-human restraint, she darted right past the bathroom door - there was no time. As long as she could get to the DMV before it closed, she could just use their bathroom. Kyra plowed out the school’s front doors and ran straight to her car. Her private school did not have buses, a plus for moments like this. Another blessing was the fact that the after-school rush of parking lot traffic had already cleared up. In one miraculous motion, she clipped on her seat belt, started her car, and shifted it to drive before flooring it out of the parking lot. Sitting down in her driver side seat provided a smidgen of relief. She felt as though her hold was more manageable sitting as opposed to standing. Still, Kyra’s legs chaotically bounced up and down as she waited at the stop sign. Car after car passed with little gap, denying Kyra access. But she had to pee, and she was running late. She couldn’t wait for a safe distance; she had to act now. Kyra cut the wheel and slammed on the gas, forcing her car right within a manageable gap between cars. The car behind her honked at the apparent cut-off. “Sorry!” waved Kyra, although she in no way regretted her action. She was racing against both the clock and her bladder. Kyra knew moments like these would often taunt her. Fate would surely show its cruel sense of humor by forcing every single traffic light to shine red, or to spawn in some unexpected traffic jam. Not today, however. Karma had apparently awarded Kyra in advance, granting a relatively clear road. The desperate driver zipped down the two-line highway unimpeded. The pressure below had transformed into a dull numbness as her muscles grew more and more fatigued. Kyra felt as though her body had entered into a new phase of desperation, an unknown threshold not yet traveled. She began to drive with one hand on the wheel, the other fiercely gripping her womanhood. Pain and anxiety clouded her mind, but she tried to focus her thoughts through the funnel onto one goal: reaching her destination on time. She could do this. Kyra no longer felt human. She entered a sensation of weightlessness, as if her soul had astrally projected while her body continued the motions of driving all on its own. The new spiritual plane was one of pure agony and anxiety spawned from the stress of running late and the excruciating pain of a bladder about to burst. Finally, her mindless body pulled into the parking lot with five minutes left to spare. Kyra re-entered reality with a wave of relief upon finally reaching her destination. Unbuckling her seatbelt was like removing a sandbag from her stomach. Her thighs immediately clamped together to ensure this relief did not cause her muscles to stop doing their job. Both hands vicegriped her crotch as Kyra re-composed herself. She then carefully opened her car door with her foot, unable to lean over without suffering another stab in her gut. Staring at the outside pavement, Kyra took a deep breath. ‘I can do this.’ She tensed every muscle in her body as she bent just enough to exit her car. She wanted to implode - each minor movement mirrored the sensation of a merciless massage on her exhausted bladder. Kyra limped through her aching haze to the front door. The cool, aluminum handle opened with a jingle. She immediately grabbed a ticket from the dial before scanning the room. The tiled floor contained more scuffs than blank space, the torn carpet did little to welcome her, the pain-chipped walls enclosed her, and the flickering fluorescent box lights completed the depressing, underfunded interior. Kyra’s eyes did not land upon any restroom doors, however. Panicking, she looked around the dilapidated space once more, before a deadweight of dread smashed her hopes. A sign behind the desk in somber font displayed the macabre message: ‘Public Restrooms not available. Sorry for the inconvenience.’ The sign felt like a slap in the face, a dry-humored taunt from the forces that be. Kyra stared at the soulless symbols in pure disbelief. Instead of festering in her squalor, Kyra shifted her game plan to a new mission: get out of this place as soon as possible. She glanced at the spaces fellow occupants: 3 people in line, 5 others seated in the decaying waiting room chairs. A digital display on the wall read: now serving number 474. Kyra checked her ticket: 482. The number was close enough - she could wait a few more minutes. She did not want to have to come back to this place again. Kyra chose one of the chairs, praying its feeble frame wouldn’t collapse when she sat. Once she realized how slowly time moved within these walls, she began to rethink her decision. The only remaining attendant suddenly stopped helping her current customer and started to sluggishly trudge from her desk towards the door. Kyra tried to restrain her judgment as the overweight middle-aged lady waddled her way across the room at a turtle’s pace. ‘She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady. She’s a nice lady.’ Kyra repeated in her head. However, the niceties stopped when Kyra winced and felt herself enter the next phase of desperation. Her numbness vanished, replaced with a rapid-fire spray of knives and needle aimed directly at her abdomen. Kyra knew she had to ride this wave out - if she got up now, her bladder would surely give up and explode all over the DMV floor. A jingle provided a momentary distraction. The door shook slightly as the attendant flipped over the ‘Closed sign.’ She then turned around and resumed her slow-motion journey back to the front desk. Along the way, a tired voice scratched, “If you have a ticket, I can help you. If not, please come back tomorrow. Also, 475, please approach the window.” One person got up and left, visibly frustrated, having not grabbed a ticket when entering. Kyra did not want to celebrate another person’s misfortune, but this meant one less body to wait behind. Another aching jolt jarred her bladder, however, ending her short-lived moment of joy. Her chair squeaked as she jostled in her seat, trying anything to subdue the fiery sensations burning her bladder alive. “476,” coraked the attendant. Kyra’s eyes watered, tears sitting just behind her eyelid. All hope drained from her body. A warm trickle snuck its way through Kyra’s weakening barrier. Kyra pressed down between her legs with all her strength. She noticed a slight dampness on her fingers, but she kept pushing. She knew her body had been forced beyond its limits. However, she did not give up. She tightened with all her might, until the sharp pains once again dissipated into a bulging numbness. The attendant’s voice again rattled, “476.” Kyra had crossed into yet another threshold, another plane of existence well past the bounds of her previously defined lines. She took this moment to examine her crotch. Carefully retreating her fingers, she wiped her damp fingertips on her dry shorts leg. She could make out a small darker patch on the fabric, no bigger than a slice of pepperoni. Kyra’s eyes widened upon seeing the evidence of her leak, but it was not purely out of horror. She was a bit surprised she made it this far - her tiny bladder usually leaked earlier than this. However, she had never held this long, nearly to an accident. “477.” Kyra glanced around the room - two more people had been helped and since left. Four other people remained. She reevaluated her current state. The stabbing had vanished, replaced with the odd sensation of being uncomfortably full, similar to a post-Thanksgiving dinner, only if the fullness was concentrated in her bladder rather than her stomach. She could feel her bladder pressing against her other organs. However, for the most part, she no longer felt as though she could lose it any second. The current wave of numbness granted her just enough will to stay and finish her errand. Still, she had to constantly focus on keeping her surplus of urine held in. “478.” Kyra clamped both knees and thighs together and gripped the edges of the chair. Her fingernails dug into the frayed felt, picking at the material as she shut her eyes and tried to distract her mind. “479.” Even breathing became difficult, as with each breath, her expanding lungs sandwiched her other organs and caused them to press against her bladder. Her body was simply running out of room - or at least, it felt that way. This phase of Kyra’s desperation still proved tasking on her body. She would give anything for relief at this point, even contemplating the sensation of just letting it go right here. But then the realistic thoughts of her sodden shorts, drenched chair, expanding puddle on the floor, and public humiliation all reminded her of why this simply wasn’t an option. “480.” Crinkling paper and pen scribbling gnawed at Kyra’s eardrums. These noises became the only outward sensation that Kyra was aware of for the next few minutes, besides the lava-lamp movement of burning and boiling in the entire lower-half of her body. “481,” croaked the attendant. ‘One more.’ Kyra repeated that thought over and over. The two words became the final bit of motivation she needed to hang on. However, her bladder’s exhaustion from its marathon began to strike. The dreadful pains below re-materilaized beneath Kyra’s skin. Her rock-solid bladder bulged out, hyper-aware of even the slightest pressures. Her belt and waistband, despite loosened, strangled her abdomen. Even her shirt resting atop her gut resembled the weight of a person sitting on her lap.The excruciating aches returned full-force, as though a full-grown adult baby was attempting to claw itself free from her belly. Kyra knew she had only minutes to spare. She thought about just cutting her losses and leaving now - surely she could last the 5 minute drive home. “482.” Her number. Kyra looked up at the now-empty line. Just 10 feet of floor space stretched between her and the front desk. Kyra slowly and painstakingly unraveled herself off the chair. It made her car exit seem like nothing. This time, Kyra thought her brain would explode from the amount of willpower it took to hang out as she bent her body forwards and stood up from the chair. She started seeing spots from the exertion. She sluggishly stepped forward. Each footstep lodged the knife in her bladder deeper, the ten feet seeming like ten miles. “How may I help you?” croaked the attendant. “L-license renewal,” whimpered Kyra, only able to utter a squeak. “I’m sorry, can you say that louder?” Kyra swallowed a gulp of air and repeated, “L-l-license r-renewal..” A soft moan preceded the last syllable. “Alright, I’ll need your current license. I’ll also need you to fill out this form and tell me the names of these signs.” Kyra fumbled through her wallet, her fingers shaking. She finally produced her license and slid it under the window. She then grabbed the desk-mounted visor and looked through the lens at a row of 5 street signs. “Alright ma’am, recite what you see starting from the left.” Kyra took a deep breath. “Stop.” Her muscles strained. “Yield.” Her knees buckled. “Rail Road Crossing.” Her toes curled. “Merge.” Her forehead sweated. “Deer crossing.” She leaked. “Good job. Let me just grab the proper paperwork..” Kyra panicked. A warm trickle inched its way into her panties. Her hand rocketed to her crotch, her ankles twisted, and she hunched over. Another shot of warmth. Kyra could no longer stand by herself. She nearly fell forward, needing to use both hands to support herself against the top of the service desk. She now stood with her feet slightly apart, her legs wobbling ferociously. The biting pain started to slowly but surely claim victory as her exhausted bladder gradually gave out. Another jet spurted into her pants. This time, the patch between her legs expanded. Tears formed in Kyra’s eyes. She knew what was coming, but she continued to fight. Even as another stream burst through the seams and slowly filled her shorts with warm urine, Kyra gritted her teeth and tensed every molecule in her body. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Eventually, her muscles could no longer hold back the flood. Defeated, all they could do was relax. “No…” sobbed Kyra. But it was over. The trickling stream amplified into a raging river. A hot spring geysered into her shorts, causing the dark wet patch to explode in every direction. Kyra’s body convulsed with each successive gush of urine. An array of emotions mixed within her mind - disbelief, disgust, relief, shame, and even a touch of pleasure, which Kyra assumed was simply due to the absence of pain. The cascade splattered against the tiled floor as if someone had just spilled an entire gallon of water. Kyra bent her head down in shame. A tear dripped into her expanding puddle. As her stream continued, it no longer even felt as though she were peeing - only the sensation of relaxed muscles remained. But the growing puddle only confirmed Kyra’s horror that she was in fact still going. After what seemed like an eternity of release, Kyra was finally drained - of energy, of feeling, of pee - everything. The attendant finally heard Kyra’s sobs. “Ma’am, are you okay – oh. Oh my. Oh sweetie, It’s alright. Here, I got your paperwork. Just sign here and don’t worry about the rest, I’ll fill it out with your info. Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll alert the cleaning crew.” Kyra kept sniffling. Through the sobs, she muttered, “I’m sorry..” The attendant’s raspy but endearing voice answered, “Oh hun, don’t you worry. I’ve seen much worse on this job, believe me. Here, take this for your car.” She handed Kyra an entire roll of paper towels. She accepted the gift, and with another sniffle, whimpered, “Thank you…” Kyra wanted nothing more but to disappear. She signed the paper with vibrating fingers and left the building, her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor from her pee puddle. She left wet footprints on the concrete on the way to her car. Unraveling nearly half the roll, she completely covered her seat. She then sat her soggy bottom onto the seat and drove home. Despite tears continuingly to pour against her face, Kyra couldn’t help but relish in the weightlessness of her pee-free body. Lingering waves of relief emanated from her bladder. Still, Kyra couldn’t believe what she had just done. A grown adult peeing her pants in a public place? The thought of anyone finding out devastated her. She would need to be more careful next time.
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