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  1. Part I— Ed Turns Written by Will Holden Commissioned by Bee Fuller Ed was by all accounts an almost painfully ordinary guy. Every Monday through Friday, he drove his same preowned Chevy to his same boring office job, exchanged the same middling banter around the same water cooler with the same friendly but unremarkable coworkers. Then weekends were spent imbibing as much booze as his barely–above–minimum–wage paycheck would cover, then wash, rinse, repeat ad infinitum. There was however, even back then, one thing that made Ed just a little bit different from his fellow office drones, and clubbers. Ed often took that boring traffic-filled commute, and those watercooler talks— talks during which he almost always had a little paper cup or two of that weird room temperature office water himself— with his bladder still sloshing full of the previous night’s piss. And those long nights at the club, he would knock back shot after shot, mug after mug, watching other guys waddle desperately to the men’s room to “break the seal,” then make that same odyssey many more times throughout the night, while he remained at the bar, laughed at their weakness, and ordered another round. Ed wasn’t sure exactly when it had started for him, but ever since he could remember, he had taken a sort of odd pride in his iron bladder. There wasn’t much that Ed had on the other guys around him, but this was one talent— if you could call it that— at which he could effortlessly wipe the floor with nearly any other guy he knew— And when it came to holding contests, floors needing wiping was always a very real possibility. It wasn’t much, but it gave him just that little boost of confidence he needed to make it through yet another monotonous day. It was on one of his Saturday night excursions at a club he knew well, Trancium, that Ed would learn a cruel lesson in humility far too late. Normally, Ed made a point of relieving himself no more than three times a day even— no, especially— on days he went out drinking. He found it to be almost embarrassing to answer the call of nature with the rest of the weak–bladdered drunks. Tonight was different however, for two reasons: the first reason was straightforward enough. He had way overdone it. His last piss had been at noon today— His first and only release of the day. Now, it was well after one in the morning. Since then, he had easily drunk at least a litre of water, some tea, a glass of orange juice, and all of that was before he had even arrived at the club and decided to show off and order five beers all at once and shotgun them. Now, even Ed’s seemingly limitless bladder of steel was tender and pulsating, and it took everything in his power to keep from leaking spurts of hot yellow piss from his whimpering pee hole into his white loose–fitting boxers. The other reason? Well, that would be the same reason he had done something so boneheaded as shot-gunning that many beers at once in the first place. Ed had a date tonight. A beautiful, vivacious woman with bouncing pink hair named Alyssa he’d met on his last visit here. It was one thing to be forced to hold yourself, or worse get caught leaking in public under ordinary circumstances— already completely mortifying, but on a date? Out of the question. Like any sane person with probably three liters and thirteen hours of boiling piss roiling like a tsunami against the world’s tiniest floodgate to escape their overtaxed bladder, Ed decided it was time to call it, and politely excused himself to go use the men’s room. As he got from up his seat, a fresh wave of desperation hit him, and he audibly groaned from the excruciating strain it took to keep the contents of his own personal ocean safely inside of him in. He felt a single half of a dribble form at the edge of his exhausted pee hole. He willed it to go back inside somehow, it of course, did not oblige. If only he had known that that single dribble would be one of the last semblances of relief his poor bladder would ever experience again. He squeezed his thighs together, trying not to make it obvious just how frantic with desperation he was in front of his beautiful companion, and waddled carefully towards the men’s room. While he was walking very slowly, trying his best not to let a single leak slip, men clearly infinitely less desperate than he was easily stepped in front of him, and by the time he got to the men’s room—single stall, of course, just his luck— a line had formed. He bit his lip, and felt himself almost tear up, praying to every deity he could think of for the line to at least move quickly. By the time he was near the front of the line, Ed swore his bladder must have weighed as much as a bowling ball, and his hands had found their way to his pockets, where they formed a chokehold around the head of his poor straining, twitching cock. The guy in front of him went in, and his throbbing pee hole almost released another spurt in anticipation. He pinched it off, reminding himself that relief was close, so very, very close—But not there. Not yet. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his date sauntering towards him. He guessed that she must be headed for the ladies’ room and tried his best to pull himself together lest she see him in his current pathetic state. Instead, she walked directly up to him. His desperate cock danced up and down in protest. He was so close, and now he was going to have to have a conversation, so painfully close to relief and not show how achingly desperate he was. It felt almost too cruel to bear. “Uh h-hey, Alyssa,” he stammered through clenched teeth, “What’s uh… What’s up?” She gave a low chuckle that had an odd menace to it. Ed felt a shiver run up his spine, and this time it wasn’t yet another urgent warning signal from his straining bladder. Still, it didn’t help, and he squeezed his legs together even tighter just moments too late to stop another dribble from starting to form at the tip of his straining cock. “Oh Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, you are adorable.” Alyssa ran the back of her hand lightly along his cheek and pressed him against the wall. He felt his cock twinge again, for a different reason, and the momentary change in sensation nearly caused him to lose another spurt. He let out a little whimper despite himself. “Hey Alyssa, can you just h-h-hold that thought for one second? It’s just that I’m next in line and…” He looked down and trailed off, embarrassed to admit just how close his bladder was to exploding in a gushing yellow mess in his pants right there. Alyssa didn’t budge, just traced his jawline once again, “You’re cute. But I have a confession to make.” “Oh y-y-yeah?” Ed stammered as he heard the sound of a toilet flushing, the rushing water, and the knowledge of just how close relief was nearly made him lose it on the spot once again, but he clenched every muscle in his body, and instead gently tried to push Alyssa off of him, “I’m really sorry Alyssa, but I promise you I’ll be right back.” Her grip was like iron and didn’t give an inch. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that Eddie-poo. See, there’s something I really need to tell you. And it can’t wait another moment.” The door handle turned, and a tall man exited wearing the look of blissful relief Eddie would have given his left arm to share. Another guy came from down the hall, “Excuse me,” he asked, holding himself in a way Ed desperately wished he had the freedom to do at the moment, “Are you in line? Sorry if I’m interrupting it’s just that I’ve had three beers, and hoo boy… My teeth are floating!” “Yes!” Ed almost shouted, tears forming in his eyes. “No, go right ahead.” Alyssa talked over him. The man looked between the two of them with a bit of confusion for a moment, before Ed heard the sound of a soft hiss, as a small wet patch formed at the front of the man’s trousers. The man appeared to panic, grabbed himself with both hands, and rushed into the bathroom without further hesitation, slamming the door behind him. Ed’s pee hole twinged and throbbed enviously, sending a shock of pain up his bladder, and through his cock. “Why did you do that?” He whimpered, then, scarcely believing the words were leaving his mouth, he whispered with a shaking voice, “I–I really need to go, okay?” Even through the door, Ed could hear the absolute roaring gush of what had to be almost about half as much boiling urine as occupied Ed’s own tormented bladder rushing with the speed of a high-intensity water canon into the toilet bowl. Ed’s dick jumped up and down several times violently, begging for the relief he still stubbornly refused it. “I needed to get you alone, Ed, darling, so I could do this.” She tilted his chin up, pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck, and suddenly, Ed felt a new type of pain entirely course through his entire body. One that almost drowned out the agony radiating from his tortured bladder. Almost. It was like two tiny little knives stabbing him in the neck, and then he felt the suction, and a venomous burn in his veins, and he started to go weak. “It’s like I was trying to tell you before Eddie darling, I didn’t ask you here for a date. I asked you here for dinner. Well, to be my dinner, that is. But it’s all going to be okay, see, in just a moment, I’ll have sucked you dry, and none of this will matter.” Ed struggled, trying to get out a scream, to get away, something. But she was so strong, and it was all he could do just to keep his floodgates shut, because even then, Ed just couldn’t quite manage to swallow his pride. Just as Ed felt himself start to lose consciousness, another guy approached him to get in line, and saw them. Alyssa hissed and shrieked like a feral cat and fled the scene at an impossible speed, leaving Ed with nothing left to do but collapse shaking to the ground. He couldn’t decide which was worse, the burning venom that was now coursing through his veins, or the waves of shock that screamed through his bulging bladder as he hit the floor. “Whoa, you okay, man,” his accidental saviour asked. Ed grabbed his burning cock, preventing a spurt from leaking out, and nodded though he knew it wasn’t true. It took him several tries, but he managed to get onto his knees, and desperately clawed at the men’s room door, “Please…” He begs, “I – I just need to…” He twisted his legs like a pretzel, and knocked on the door with all his remaining strength, “Can’t… Can’t hold much longer… Please…” “Uh sorry bro,” came the oblivious response from the other side of the door, “gonna be occupado for at least a few more minutos.” Ed finally broke down and openly sobbed, clinging onto his throbbing cock for dear life. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Ed couldn’t even process that he’d just been bitten by a vampire, all he knew was that no matter what happened after this, he couldn’t just lose control in the middle of a club like this. It was completely out of the question. He was Iron-Bladdered Ed. He didn’t just have accidents in the middle of a public club like some sort of weakling. “Dude, I hate to say it, but maybe you should just like… Go. Whatever that chick did to you looks like kind of a medical emergency. You should probably go to the hospital. Nobody is going to judge you if you piss yourself right now. Hell, that guy over there just did it, and he didn’t even get bitten by some freaky chick,” the man behind him in line tried to reassure him. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t do that. I’ll never do that!” He almost shouted through tears. He felt a change come over him. Suddenly, the burning in his veins died down. His hearing amplified, and it made the sound of the flush he’d been desperately waiting for even louder than he was expecting. The near–deafening rush of water added yet another torment to his already tortured bladder. The door opened, and he forced himself into a standing position, doubled over clutching at his crotch, he waddled in, and shut the door. He caught a brief glimpse of the mirror, and if he hadn’t been in such desperate agony, he would have done a double take— But there was no time to think about anything that wasn’t the toilet and the steps between him and the ecstasy of draining nearly three full litres of piss from the bursting dam inside his abdomen. Finally, he stood over the toilet. After everything he’d been through, it almost felt like a dream. Ed swore he could almost hear a choir of serenading angels as he pulled his throbbing dick out of his trousers, finally relaxed his tired, painfully pulsating pee hole, or at least he tried to, and… Nothing happened. The hole remained pulled tightly shut. Maybe he held too long. Ed takes a long breath and tried again. And again. And again. And yet again. Still, no matter how hard he tried, nothing moved. Here he was, his bulging bladder jutting out several inches over his hips, standing directly over the toilet, cock out and ready, yet relief was somehow further away than it had ever been. He just barely resisted the urge to cry again, knowing it wouldn’t help anything. Instead, he pressed down on his bladder, hoping to get the long-awaited flow started manually. The sensation hurt so badly he let out a moan of pure agony, yet still not a single dribble of piss escaped his pounding bladder for his trouble. He tried desperately to remember what other tricks he’d heard for peeing when it was hard to get started. He went to the sink to turn the water on, and that’s when he finally realized the nature of his situation. As the water started flowing, Ed’s knees naturally squeezed together, but it was completely unnecessary. Ed’s reflection in the mirror was gone. Ed had been bitten by a vampire, and now had been turned into one too. There’s one thing nobody really talks about when it comes to vampires. Sure, everyone knows they can move fast, have inhuman strength, drink blood, all that good stuff. And everyone knows they don’t show up in mirrors, and can’t handle the sunlight, garlic, crucifixes, the basics. But, there’s something else no vampire can do once they have turned, and dear reader I suspect you may have already got an inkling what it is— Vampires cannot urinate. At all. Ever. For most, that’s not an issue. Vampires don’t make new urine, and any normal person would naturally piss themselves from the pain of the turning process if they had needed to go when they were bitten. Ed, unfortunately for him, was not most people when he was human, and now he has an eternity to live, and he will spend every second of it just as painfully desperate as he was that night. Forever.
  2. I tried doing art for this website before, but this is the first time I think it's good enough to at least post. There's a lot wrong with it and there's a lot of things that put me off about it, but it's cute enough that I will post it anyway. I just felt that this website needed more male omorashi, and Victor is adorable, so I hope people will like this. It's ok to leave criticism, just don't be an asshole about it. I purposely didn't polish it, because I'm lazy and don't know how to color well. Maybe I'll repost a polished version later. I'll post this on my own member gallery shortly. That left hand still looks too small to me.
  3. Maybe he hated the way she never told him, or maybe he just hated the feeling in his lower gut. His roommate always had a habit of doing this, inviting people over to hang out downstairs in their crappy downtown apartment she fixed up to look...halfway decent. Though she never let him know, when she knew he was...He was bladder shy, and she thought he was kidding! Waylon’s lower half felt like it was burning, a hand around the doorknob, the other steadying him by splaying against the plymood of the entrance. It felt like his breath was coming in short pants, burning hot and putting pressure on his already too-full bladder with every movement of his lungs. It was burning, threatening to leak out though he knew his bladder would allow no such thing. His knees felt like they’d buckle, shaking and weak as his flop of dirty blonde hair hung in his face, hearing those women talk downstairs, his bladder couldn’t even give him so much as a drop in relief. Then...came the shame, the way his pants grew tighter at the feeling of it, when he knew he shouldn’t like something so...humiliating. He had to pee! That’s all this was! Yet the weakness in his legs and lower half had him slip to the floor, member twitching in his pants at the idea of just letting go, a puddle around his thighs that he’d have to clean up, like a little weakling. He hated it, hated it, but he knew his kinky side fucking loved it, the way he couldn’t go even if he wanted to, knowing if he even tried to force himself only a few little painful dribbles would leak their way down his shaft. “Waylon! You should come down! I know you’re hiding up there, you anti-social nerd!” Following that was a gaggle of laughter that made his spine tingle, the laughter at him, when he was brought so low...whydiditmakehimsohard? “J-Just a minute!” He had to take care of this, if he went down with a boner over needing to pee he’d never hear the end of it. He pushed, needing just a little more of that timed embarrassment, and felt urine soak the front of his boxers, darkening the fabric that was the only thing he wore on his lower half. “F-Fuck..please….alittlemore.” His reedy voice whined, cracking as he cursed, his body not used to the pure need it had all coiled up in his bladder...His knees twitching as he let a little more of his shame drip out of his twitching cock, forehead leaned on the door, he only prayed his roomie and her friends didn’t come up the stairs looking for him. He had no choice, he was way too fucking horny to just piss himself until he came. Trembling fingers pushed down to the hem of his white boxers, soaked yellow...pushing them down his need sprang out, and the friction made him moan, unable to stop it. He heard it...downstairs the woman paused in their talking, and he heard his name, they knew...oh fuck they knew...but that just did it for him more, a dribble of pre mixing with his own shameful piss, dripping down and staining those boxers even more, and he looked at it for a bit...Enjoying the feeling of need, of being horny, wishing so badly someone would call him names, a little piss baby, a fucking nerd, a little wimp...Just thinking those things made him twitch again, and he brought his thumb up, tracing up the side with a shiver...The urge to moan again just to have them make fun of him, to call him gross, a pervert, nasty...a piss pants. “Did you hear that?” “Maybe...is Waylon alright?” He couldn’t help it, another moan melted past his lip, and the girls all went quiet downstairs as he fully let himself go, whimpering with his back arched his urine squirting from his tip to soak the cloth around his thighs, pooling underneath his thighs as his tip twitched. He couldn’t keep his hands off himself, a hand in his hair, gripping it, as he moved to pump his fist, hips jerking into his own hand as he finished pissing himself, the warm puddle, his shame, only serving to make his precum pool on top of his fist, leaking down the side as he heard them come up the stairs...Through a haze of lust he knew they saw his puddle, sitting so close to the door, they had to, hearing the way his body jerked and moved… All those women must think he was a fucking mess, and he loved it, he loved them thinking he was an embarrassment, a little pisser that wasn’t worth their time. “Ohfuck...fucking…ngh!” His urine wasn’t the only thing puddling underneath him once he reached his climax, knowing he didn’t last long, he didn’t give a single shit, his dick was a mess, throbbing as his orgasm made him moan, the girls right outside his door gasping, murmuring amongst themselves as the door clicked open, seeing the man in his own puddle, shirt hem covered in piss and cum, his boxers, once white, now a yellowed mess around his thighs. “What a little pisser~” _____ This was a very self indulgent fic I wrote, it most likely isn't very biologically correct, but it is fiction! Thanks so much for reading!
  4. From the album: LydiaPrower8's Omo Art

    God, this was rushed as hell, but screw it, the fandom needed that scenario drawn out.
  5. This incident happened nearly two years ago - one of the most amazing experiences I had ever came to watching an experience up-close. Brace yourself, for this is a long story. My best friend is a pretty attractive guy. He’s rather tall, standing at a towering 185cm, and of average build - closer to a skinny one. His personality is close to your typical soft shy-boy from a Korean drama. I would admit that I had a slight crush, or rather, attraction towards him at that time and it had only amplified after this incident. We had been out studying together for a few hours at a small café pretty far away from the city and he ordered a few coffees to keep himself hydrated and focused, while I was not allowed to drink any due to health concerns. Well, I’m sure you can guess where this is going - five hours with five cups of coffee, and caffeine has an insane diuretic effect for him. He started to show initial signs of needing the toilet two hours in, but I guess he had assumed that he could wait. After five hours, I could tell that it had really gotten to him. He couldn’t stay still, face insanely red, hands shaking, legs crossed tightly, and sweating crazily. He was obviously close to his limit. “Hey, do you need to go to the washroom or something?” I asked him. He nodded and approached the staff to ask for a restroom. However, after a few minutes, he came back dejected and with tears almost welling in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Why didn’t you go?” I asked. “The customer’s restroom is broken and we’re not allowed to use the staff’s - it’s for hygiene.” he mumbled, tears clearly on the brink of falling from his eyes. I then suggested that we leave and find a nearby restroom. After asking for directions from the staff, who did not know of the directions to the nearest restroom, my best friend gave up and suggested going to the city to relieve himself, since it was only 15 minutes or so away. He was really certain that he’d make it. I suppose at this point in time, I should add in a little bit of context. He was a really shy guy and would never, ever show any kind of need for something as private - as personal as needing to use the washroom. This meant that his need, at this moment, was literally insane to show it this openly to me. We quickly packed up our things and thanked the staff, and walked quickly towards the nearby bus-stop. On the way there, he was so, so desperate that he had to stop a few times to bend down, hands on his thighs and squeeze his legs together. ”Hey, you’re going to make it, okay?” I reassured him, although deep down I knew a part of me, though evil, wanted to say, please don’t make it. He could hardly look me in the eye, but once we made eye contact, it felt like he had gained the strength to carry on. We eventually reached the bus-stop where he immediately sat down and he buried his face in his hands. ”God, Ariae. I’m so sorry you have to see me like this - I really didn’t know their washrooms were closed. I’m sorry for ruining the day.” My heart melted instantly. He was so pure and apologetic for such a human need and I almost cursed myself for silently hoping that he would not have made it. I reached out for his arm to assure him that it was all okay, noticing how cold and shaken he was. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. We had waited in silence for the bus who was scheduled to come by every twenty minutes due to how remote it was - it seemed that we were unlucky enough to miss the previous bus. “How much do you need to go?” I couldn’t resist myself asking. ”I’m.. I don’t know, Ariae. I’ve never been this urgent in my life. I don’t know why I didn’t decide to go sooner. I don’t even think I can hold on until the bus comes.” I wrapped my arms around his cold body and reassured him that the bus would come anytime soon. Sure enough, as miracles do, a bus came by just two minutes after that. Though happy for my friend, I was silently disappointed. He struggled to even get up, knees tight together as he tried to act as normal as he could while entering the bus, though it was obvious everyone had their eyes on him. His face turned redder than I’d ever seen him. It seemed that lady luck was not on our side as the bus was insanely crowded - having the time been just past 6.30pm where everyone was on the way home after a long day of work. The bus was both crowded and seatless, leaving my poor friend standing and legs tightly crossed. I was sure that everyone on the bus, hoping for something exciting to happen that they could tell their family about as they went home, was secretly wishing to see him wet himself. The bumpy ride home seemed to take hours. I linked my arms with his to make sure he stayed balanced as his other hand was on his thighs, itching to just grab his crotch and hold it better. Almost ten minutes had passed, he was shaking so hard that I almost wanted to hug him. At long, long, long last, we had finally reached the nearest bus-stop to our house. ”That.. was not fifteen minutes.” I muttered, trying to make a quick joke to cheer him up. ”Ariae... god, I really, really have to pee. I don’t think I can hold it anymore. I’m about to wet myself.” I glanced over at him. For someone as shy as him, finally gaining the courage to grab onto his crotch meant that he was quite literally minutes away from completely losing it all. My heart wrenched at the sight of him. ”Come on, my house is just a short walk away. You’ll make it, okay?” “Mm.” he mumbled in reply. Every two seconds, he had to stop to grab himself tightly before continuing. After four minutes of agony, I heard a soft gasp. ”Oh my god.” a small wet spot appeared on his light-blue jeans and appeared to grow bigger for a few seconds. ”Oh my god. I can’t hold it anymore, I have to pee, right now.” he gasped. “No, no. Just a few steps away. You can make it.” I made a last-ditch attempt to reassure him. He then hobbled the last two minutes before finally stopping at the lobby and his wet patch grew even bigger. The glistening wet patch shone brightly in the sunset as those passing by glanced. ”I have to go now, Ariae.” The lift seemed to take a billion years to reach our floor, and his ever-growing wet patch seemed to get bigger slowly and slowly by the second. At long, long, last, we had made it inside the elevator when I heard a gasp. ”Ariae. I’m sorry. I can’t hold it anymore. I’m peeing myself.” I watched as my best friend losing control, grab his crotch tightly, desperately, knees buckled, trying to save himself from humiliation while fresh, golden urine poured out of his hands and his jeans onto the floor rapidly, glistening under the light of the elevator. Complete silence throughout the elevator - except the soft whispering repeating “please stop”, the soft hissing of his urine pouring out of his penis and the loud splash on the elevator floor. Even as we had reached my floor, he hasn’t stopped wetting himself until minutes after when the trickle had finally died down, but not the ones pouring from his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. Accidents happen. Let’s get you changed and we can take a much-needed nap.” I reassured him, smoothing through his disheveled hair and wiping the tears off his beautiful face. Since that incident, I had never seen him drink even a single cup of coffee anymore.
  6. Lurien's servent had to work all day with no breaks to the bathroom. its hard working being a butler luckily Lurien is understanding
  7. *A resubmit due to a formatting error on my part--apologies 😅* Hi All! I'm posting an older work of mine here--if you like what you've read I do have open commissions! 😁 You can check my Tumblr and Twitter for more details: @anaxgardner on both. This was an older post of mine-- if you like what you've read I am currently taking commissions-- more details on my Tumblr and Twitter both @anaxgardner. Happy Reading! “So, will you come back to my place?” I nearly choked. It had been so long since I’d been on a date, and even longer since I’d let a guy take me home. I was married for five years, and was exclusive with Troy for three years before that, so a lot of things had changed since I’d last gone out with a guy. “Jacob? Are you okay?” I snapped out of my trance to see his green eyes staring at me. He nervously picked at his nails. “I uh… I’m fine. It’s just… this is still all new to me,” I confessed. “If I go back to your place, we have sex, right?” The redhead leaned across the table and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Jacob, if you come back to my place, we can do whatever you want. We don’t have to have sex. I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. He leaned in, pressing a kiss ever so gently to my lips, and I found myself wondering if everyone else was watching the two guys making out in the corner booth. “Make yourself comfortable,” Austin said, loosening his grip on my hand as we stepped over the threshold into his apartment. “I’ll be right back, I just have to use the bathroom.” I felt my skin heat up and the thought of the three glasses of wine he had through dinner rushing to his bladder made my heart skip a beat. “Wait!” I called, causing him to stop and look at me. I took three steps forward and slammed my lips against his, taking him by surprise. Austin’s hands found my waist as his lips moved against mine. I never got the chance to explore my kink with Troy. He always thought it was stupid, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by this time. Austin seemed different. I would do whatever it took to keep him out of that bathroom until the last possible second. Our lips separated with a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Damn, boy, can I at least pee first?” Our eyes met, and I knew the control was all mine. My mouth curved up into a smile. “No.” I expected Austin to be disgusted, but as I picked my hand up and traced a finger along his lower belly, he simply raised an eyebrow at me and said, “Is that the game we’re playing tonight?” I held my head down and nodded. “Okay then.” Austin took a step back and made a show out of crossing and uncrossing his legs. “Please, Jacob?” he begged, “I really have to go.” I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking my head. I flattened my hand against his stomach. I gently pushed with my fingertips, getting a flinch out of him. “I think you need another drink.” He smirked, knowing exactly where my mind was going. “There’s a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge.” Two more glasses later, Austin was holding his alcohol surprisingly well. Other than the occasional shift of his hips, I would have never known he was holding back a full bladder. “You were holding before dinner, weren’t you?” I asked, finishing off my third class of the night. He bashfully nodded. “I don’t want you to think I’m a pig, but sex feels so much better with a full—mmph.” Instead of getting the last word out, he winced and placed his hand on his lower belly. “Show me,” I ordered. Austin’s wine glass went to the table in front of him. Once he lifted his shirt, I took a second to marvel at his very overfilled bladder protruding out of his stomach. I fought back the urge to touch it. No, not yet. Instead I held my hand out towards him. “What?” he asked. “Lead me to your bedroom.” He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Feeling my own bladder start to weigh heavy in my stomach, I said, “You said sex it better with a full bladder. Prove it.” God, did he prove it. While he had to stop quite a few times to keep control of his bladder, sex with Austin was better than anything I’d ever had with Troy. Afterwards, Austin stood, pulling on his jeans. “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked. “Um…the bathroom? I hope.” I knew what he was feeling. His orgasm made his need worsen. He couldn’t stand still, dancing on the spot as I stood and put my own jeans back on. “Not yet.” He groaned. “Lay down.” He obeyed reluctantly, but moved a hand to knead at his crotch once he laid down. I smirked and went back to the kitchen, filling a clear plastic cup with warm water. “Please don’t make me drink that,” Austin whined as I returned to the bedroom, “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” “This isn’t for you to drink.” I laid down next to him, dipping my fingers into the water which sent a jolt to my own bladder. Holding my hand over his stomach, I let the water drip onto his skin, and his reaction was instant. “Ah!” he yelled, drawing his legs up and tightening his grip. I expected him to tell me to stop, but he didn’t. I held the cup directly over him and slowly tilted it, letting the warm water fall over him. He groaned, twisting his legs and shoving his hand deeper into his crotch until he couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t hold it!” he cried. I moved the cup to the nightstand and turned back just in time to see his jeans turn dark. Austin tried to stop, but no amount of squeezing and leg crossing could cut off the flow his bursting bladder was pushing out of him. He finally relaxed and I reached over, taking his pee-soaked hand in mine. I watched in awe as his bladder continued to empty with a loud hiss. A full two minutes later, Austin let out the breath he was holding as his bladder was finally empty. The bed, along with our jeans, were completely soaked. I was still speechless. “Are you okay?” he asked me. I nodded and laughed. It was my turn. “I uh… I have to pee,” I confessed. Austin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?” Another nod. He gave me an evil smile. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
  8. 260 downloads

    Heres Part 2 After I wet the bed, it's my turn to teas him with a vibrator until he soaks his shorts 😉 I also peed my panties again into his hand 😋 💖
    Free
  9. This was an older post of mine-- if you like what you've read I am currently taking commissions-- more details on my Tumblr and Twitter both @anaxgardner. Happy Reading! “So, will you come back to my place?” I nearly choked. It had been so long since I’d been on a date, and even longer since I’d let a guy take me home. I was married for five years, and was exclusive with Troy for three years before that, so a lot of things had changed since I’d last gone out with a guy. “Jacob? Are you okay?” I snapped out of my trance to see his green eyes staring at me. He nervously picked at his nails. “I uh… I’m fine. It’s just… this is still all new to me,” I confessed. “If I go back to your place, we have sex, right?” The redhead leaned across the table and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Jacob, if you come back to my place, we can do whatever you want. We don’t have to have sex. I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. He leaned in, pressing a kiss ever so gently to my lips, and I found myself wondering if everyone else was watching the two guys making out in the corner booth. “Make yourself comfortable,” Austin said, loosening his grip on my hand as we stepped over the threshold into his apartment. “I’ll be right back, I just have to use the bathroom.” I felt my skin heat up and the thought of the three glasses of wine he had through dinner rushing to his bladder made my heart skip a beat. “Wait!” I called, causing him to stop and look at me. I took three steps forward and slammed my lips against his, taking him by surprise. Austin’s hands found my waist as his lips moved against mine. I never got the chance to explore my kink with Troy. He always thought it was stupid, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by this time. Austin seemed different. I would do whatever it took to keep him out of that bathroom until the last possible second. Our lips separated with a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Damn, boy, can I at least pee first?” Our eyes met, and I knew the control was all mine. My mouth curved up into a smile. “No.” I expected Austin to be disgusted, but as I picked my hand up and traced a finger along his lower belly, he simply raised an eyebrow at me and said, “Is that the game we’re playing tonight?” I held my head down and nodded. “Okay then.” Austin took a step back and made a show out of crossing and uncrossing his legs. “Please, Jacob?” he begged, “I really have to go.” I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking my head. I flattened my hand against his stomach. I gently pushed with my fingertips, getting a flinch out of him. “I think you need another drink.” He smirked, knowing exactly where my mind was going. “There’s a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge.” Two more glasses later, Austin was holding his alcohol surprisingly well. Other than the occasional shift of his hips, I would have never known he was holding back a full bladder. “You were holding before dinner, weren’t you?” I asked, finishing off my third class of the night. He bashfully nodded. “I don’t want you to think I’m a pig, but sex feels so much better with a full—mmph.” Instead of getting the last word out, he winced and placed his hand on his lower belly. “Show me,” I ordered. Austin’s wine glass went to the table in front of him. Once he lifted his shirt, I took a second to marvel at his very overfilled bladder protruding out of his stomach. I fought back the urge to touch it. No, not yet. Instead I held my hand out towards him. “What?” he asked. “Lead me to your bedroom.” He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Feeling my own bladder start to weigh heavy in my stomach, I said, “You said sex it better with a full bladder. Prove it.” God, did he prove it. While he had to stop quite a few times to keep control of his bladder, sex with Austin was better than anything I’d ever had with Troy. Afterwards, Austin stood, pulling on his jeans. “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked. “Um…the bathroom? I hope.” I knew what he was feeling. His orgasm made his need worsen. He couldn’t stand still, dancing on the spot as I stood and put my own jeans back on. “Not yet.” He groaned. “Lay down.” He obeyed reluctantly, but moved a hand to knead at his crotch once he laid down. I smirked and went back to the kitchen, filling a clear plastic cup with warm water. “Please don’t make me drink that,” Austin whined as I returned to the bedroom, “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” “This isn’t for you to drink.” I laid down next to him, dipping my fingers into the water which sent a jolt to my own bladder. Holding my hand over his stomach, I let the water drip onto his skin, and his reaction was instant. “Ah!” he yelled, drawing his legs up and tightening his grip. I expected him to tell me to stop, but he didn’t. I held the cup directly over him and slowly tilted it, letting the warm water fall over him. He groaned, twisting his legs and shoving his hand deeper into his crotch until he couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t hold it!” he cried. I moved the cup to the nightstand and turned back just in time to see his jeans turn dark. Austin tried to stop, but no amount of squeezing and leg crossing could cut off the flow his bursting bladder was pushing out of him. He finally relaxed and I reached over, taking his pee-soaked hand in mine. I watched in awe as his bladder continued to empty with a loud hiss. A full two minutes later, Austin let out the breath he was holding as his bladder was finally empty. The bed, along with our jeans, were completely soaked. I was still speechless. “Are you okay?” he asked me. I nodded and laughed. It was my turn. “I uh… I have to pee,” I confessed. Austin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?” Another nod. He gave me an evil smile. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
  10. View File Wet Couples Evening Part 2 - Alice Teases Dave With A Vibrator Until He Wets His Shorts! *some nudity* Heres Part 2 After I wet the bed, it's my turn to teas him with a vibrator until he soaks his shorts 😉 I also peed my panties again into his hand 😋 💖 Submitter AliceWetting Submitted 05/02/2021 Category AliceWetting  
  11. Hi! I'm a freelance writer who plans to post my practice mini-stories here to get the word out about my writing and have a portfolio people can come to, seeing if they like my work enough to purchase something custom! Things I will NOT write: - Non-Consensual Sexual activity, anything non-sexual is totally fine. - Children being involved in sexual content, ABDL or CGL with an above 18 consenting adult is totally fine. Things I WILL write: - Anything that does not fall into the above categories! [Prices] 2 cents per word. 100 words = $2.00 Rush Orders are available, this means every word would be 4 cents per word. 100 words = $4.00 ~Must be paid before I start working, I have some commission work on my profile already if you'd like to take a peek at my writing style, or finished products. [Accepting] - Cashapp | Contact Me | Discord: Harpy#9737 Email: [email protected]
  12. Duos, ever since Caustic took off, it was all they wanted to play, not wanting to open up their little group to any outsiders yet...Not after the incident, not after everything her surrogate father had done to her, to the entirety of the apex games. “Shooting across the field, in Market!” Her soft French voice came through the mic with a harsh scratching, bringing Crypto out of his thoughts with a crash. The blush that came across his face, had been getting worse ever since she...came to his room, started to speak to him again. That sweet tone of her voice, that he had missed, alone in his room after every game, was something he never expected to hear again without the tone of anger washing over it. “Got it, do they sight you?” Wattson’s negatory sound came through and he sighed in relief, moving from the small building he had been hiding out in, his drone swinging through the air to smack back into his hand, seeing the familiar orange and blue crouched behind a rock to the right of Market. The distant roar of Bloodhound made them both jump, though they were out of range. “Crypto! You didn’t have to join me, I’m alright.” Her tone wasn’t as cherry as it would have been a handful of months ago. The truth had come out, though she still had the right to be pissed with him for lying to her. Apologizing profusely, something he wouldn’t do for anyone else, finally got the French woman back in his life. “Don’t worry about it, I didn’t want someone sneaking up behind you, with those morons firing as loud as they can.” Kneeling in front of her, the firing had stopped, an eerie quietness settling over the field, making Wattson shiver, checking her own ammo reserves, the time to third party would be coming soon, if someone else didn’t beat them to it first. “Thank you...It’s nice to have a tracker back on my side...” Wattson looked up at him, giving him one of those smiles of hers, he’d never admit it, never tell her how happy it made him to get looks without burning hate in them from her...He was lucky he had managed to get her back. “REPLICATOR INCOMING!” The robotic voice of the announcer above them made Crypto frown, not needing a reason for any other teams to converge on them. Checking his map as the Market began to light up with firing again he sighed, his lip being gently nibbled. “Tae Joon?” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she clapped a hand over her lips, looking away, as if too nervous to go where she had gone as his friend before. “Natalie...” Tae Joon liked the way his name sounded coming from her again, it had been too long since he heard it behind closed doors, and saw her smile when she said it. His hand reached out, brushing fingers on her cheek, he made her face him, giving her a rare half smile. “I missed you saying it, no one’s around, don’t worry about it...” Natalie flushed, letting his fingers linger until he took them away, she unclipped an orange flask, blue strips on it to match her outfits aesthetic, off of her uniform. Unscrewing the top she offered, Tae Joon raising a brow took it, sipping what he found to be water, realizing he was sweating bullets in his thick jacket. The hot sun bearing down on him he paused, realizing he had...drank all of it, glancing to her Natalie only giggled, strapping it back in place. “You’re a dork Tae Joon...I wanted you to have it, be careful...for me, Oui?” Natalie spoke before she moved to stand, moving to start rushing Market, Tae Joon flushing as he ran behind her. He was never lying to her again...Couldn’t risk losing that sunshine smile. Hundreds of bullets spent later and they were standing in the middle of Market, two more squads were left, and at this point? Tae Joon expected them to be solos, or at the very least cowards. Sparing a glance at Natalie who was sitting on a death box, catching her breath, he smiled, she had done incredibly well. Another pang from his lower stomach, making him wince, standing up too straight was getting a little bit...difficult. Regret from drinking that entire flask Natalie lent him was burning his chest, trying to stand up anyway, not wanting his partner to recognize the weakness that was plain across his body. How had he let this happen? They had just taken their break, why didn’t he just empty his damn bladder before they were in the top three, the final fight?! Tae Joon groaned softly, biting his lip to cut off the sound of it. Glancing over, he froze, panicking on his features as he noticed the look his blonde partner was giving him, gun in hand she opened her mouth to speak… He really needed to thank whoever threw that arc start later, but it landed between them, causing an explosion that caught him in the blast just a bit, his shields cracking a hair. He heard the laugh of that fucking old man, a growl deep in his throat as he saw Natalie ahead of him, Bangalore up on the wrap-around balcony the Market held, she didn’t see the enemy. “GET-” Tae Joon doubled over, holding his bladder as a sharp painful pang dug its claws up the inside of his torso, a gasp tore from his throat, pain making him a sitting duck, his partner ahead of him, turning to look at him, providing cover fire at Mirage. It might have been a blessing then, that Bangalore smoked, providing cover for them, though by the way they were shooting, a digital threat scope was on that gun of hers, maybe both...Then again Mirages aim was so shit, it could have been coincidence either way. A jerk from his wrist, causing him to start,eyes wide meeting the blue ones of his partner, the look of confusion on her face, mingling with concern filled him with...shame. He hadn’t meant to cause her worry, he hadn’t meant to be a damn burden on the team! “Crypto!! What has gotten into you?!” Tae Joon couldn’t even respond, couldn’t even open his mouth before there was that tell tale sound. His eyes went wide, feeling an intense heat on his shoulder. Wattson screamed, internally he cursed, he had fucked up, they could have won, but he had to just go and be the dipshit, dragging her down! Natalie wasn’t having it, the charge rifle shot had cut away the flesh in his shoulder, cauterizing the wound, sizzling flesh smell burning her nose, as she squeezed his wrist. Forgoing that, her arm went around his waist, dragging him up the stairs, hearing the shouts of the two they left behind, the hatch door opened, drawing fire they narrowly managed to avoid. “I...Sorry...” Even just talking was hard for him, feeling this petite girl drag him out of there, behind a rock, letting him stumble to his knees, shaking as Wattson put her hands on his back, the hacker trying to breathe through the pain feeling the urge swell… “You don’t need to be sorry, just heal!! Recon, I’ll be back for you, please!! Don’t come out, not until you’re alright Tae Joon!” Her voice was frantic, the concern breaking through the fog of his brain, as he nodded, panting, feeling the pressure of her on his back...He felt a light kiss on the back of his hair, a blush melting his face. “N-Nata-” She was gone, running back inside with a warrior-worthy shout, making him smile as he flopped on his back, stabbing the syringe into the burning wound, he closed his eyes, back arching against the pale dirt. “Ngh! Haa!” The medicine started to work its magic, his skin itching as it began to pull back together, the hacket, moving to squat on the heels of his feet. Panting quietly, he opened the control panel to his drone, sending it after his partner. Hack, the drone, rushed out of the holster on his back, the little propulser making its sound as it rushed into Market, seeing Wattson finishing the Bangalore from earlier, the Mirage was nowhere to be seen. The other team, Fuse, and Lifeline were across the way, though...he was having trouble seeing. He could feel himself shaking, in turn...his drone was shaking. Perfectly visible by all the squads, his drone was shaking like a leaf, dodging every single bullet the Lifeline shot at him. This was the end of the line, the pressure that had been steadily building in his bladder was reaching a breaking point. It was getting hard to even focus on flying the drone, to ping the enemies, Wattson needed him! Crypto whimpered, dropping the controller in the dirt, his drone began to fly in circles, Crypto doubled over, not trusting himself to move, the pressure, the burning in his lower abdomen bringing tears of frustration in his eyes, he couldn’t even take the time to go, this was the final fight! “Crypto?!” No response through the coms, all she could hear was whimpering, heavy breathing, before the microphone cut off...She couldn’t just leave him to die, what if the other team, snuck up on him! Turning on her heel, she was rushing out, leaving the two other final teams to duke it out in Market, rushing back to the place she had left her partner. “Tae Joon! Tae!?” Wattson’s shadow fell over him, all he could manage to communicate was a shake of his head, black hairs, swinging in front of his face, the poor man couldn’t bare to face her… “Pl...Please don’t look at me, I don’t want y-you to see me...like...this...Ngh! Fuck...Fuck! It hurts!” Wattson’s eyes went wide, going to her knees, she glanced to the market, the shots were still firing, and every time the bullets went off, Crypto flinched...Reaching out, her hand touched his leg, a gasp falling from her lips as she felt how badly his leg was shaking. “Mon amie! What happened, didn’t you heal?! Did you get shot?!” Natalie’s fingers brushed over the fabric of his pants, before pushing into his jacket, looking for moisture in the form of blood, though she felt nothing...Except a bump underneath the lower half of his shirt. “NGH! F-Fuck! Natalie- don’t! Don’t touch that, leave it...j-just leave it, someone’s gonna find us...shoot you, please! Please just...win for us...I know y-you can.” Natalie swallowed hard, suspicion in her mind...all but confirmed by how violently he flinched. Her hands brushed down his legs, wrapping her fingerless gloved hands over his knees, pushing them apart. “Oh...O-Oh my god, how...how long have you been...holding it!? Tae...Tae Joon, you...your...your….bladder!” The lower half of his shirt was bumped, his shirt tight around it, and it was obvious what it was. His knees were shaking, his chest rising and falling with the effort of holding back his shame, every movement caused him to wince, he was barely holding it together, holding his urine back. “Don’t...don’t look at me, please Natalie, I don’t wa...want you to see this...I’m begging you...” Sweat from his exertion was plastered to the front of his face, his lips parted, his eyes clouded, he didn’t dare move. “I’m not leaving you to be in pain!! If we lose we lose...clearly you are more important to me!” Natalie moved forward, her knees making little mounds in the dirt, her hands gently pressed into his stomach, pushing him to sit on his ass, instead the balls of his feet. “Ngh! Mmmna....Nat...Natalie please, be careful I don’t think I can...stop it...please go away! Fuck...please...” His voice was getting weaker, voice cracks after his pained whimpers, his legs shaking like the heat of the day didn’t exist. “Don’t struggle! You need to let it...out, if you hold it any longer you might burst! It’s okay...I won’t judge you! Do you want me to uhm...undress you? So you don’t...wet...yourself?” The only thing the poor hacker managed to say in response was a shake of his head, if it was between wet pants or Wattson seeing his embarrassing boxers, he’d take pissing himself like a little kid. “O-Okay...Let me just...Here...This may...hurt.” Natalie pushed her fingertips underneath the hem of his shirt, pushing it up, bunching the fabric over the bump of his bladder, Crypto shook his head, but Natalie had to ignore him, it was this or a lifelong weak bladder and...she doubted he wanted the latter. With a flush on her face, black hairs of happy trail leading down into the hem of his pants, trying not to think about it, those same fingertips pressed into the bulge. His reaction was immediate, arching his back, a hand flew to his own hair, grabbing a fistful of the messy black strands, forcing his hand over his own crotch, trying to stop whatever was about to happen, a whimper of pain leaving him. “It’s okay...Tae...Tae Joon look at me...look at me, you don’t need to worry, it’ll pass, it’ll feel good soon, just...let a little out, oui? Just enough to relieve the pressure?” Crypto shook his head again, but those eyes of his flicked up, meeting her blue ones, wishing he could hug her close, his source of comfort. His hips jerked as she pressed into his bladder’s bump yet again, a stifled yelp leaving his lips as he felt his body betray him. He felt warmth, slipping out of him, without him even being given a chance to stop it...Tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes slipping down his cheeks as he squeezed them closed. “Non, non, look at me mon amie, shh shh don’t cry, it feels better already doesn’t it?” Despite himself, he nodded, sniffing as he adjusted against his own hand, feeling the warmth spread across his boxers. Soaking them, the stream weak, barely piddling as he tried to force it back, to stop the stream, but once his body was started it was hard to stop. “Noplease...stop...Idon’twantto.” His own voice’s quiet tone surprised him, the teary nature of it, he could hardly hear himself. Slowly as he hiccuped, he felt the warm stream penetrate his pants, leaking down the inside of his pants to finally hit the dirt, slipping down the hill, between Wattson’s boots, making a river of his shame so obvious any viewer watching this at home would know what an...embarrassing piss pants he was. All the while he heard Wattson, gently petting his cheeks, stroking away his tears as he whimpered, as he tried to pull away but she always pulled him back. His pants soaked, warm, clinging to his inner thigh, his entire body shaking, unable to undo the act he just committed in front of the girl he loved. “Shh shh you’re doing so well! I’m proud of you...it feels better doesn’t it?” Wattson leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his temple, Crypto couldn’t meet her eyes, closing them, embarrassed, frustrated tears falling down his face...Then he felt her pull away, opening his eyes just in time to feel her coat, fall over him, protecting him from the cameras, providing her comforting scent. Natalie seemed to smile, holding up her gun a smirk on her face. “Now stay here...relax, I’ll go win this for us! Be safe for me...okay Tae Joon?” CHAMPIONS OF THE ARENA WATTSON & CRYPTO
  13. Maybe Gordon should have brought a car, instead of taking a taxi to the fancy restaurant they had both wanted to try that night. Maybe, but then again his hand in Rue’s it was hard to stop smiling, the night air cool and calm as it brushed them. Their coats ruffling softly in the warm breeze. A date night just for them after a rough week, he couldn’t be happier standing next to the woman he loves. “Warm enough?” The soft voice of his girlfriend knocked him out of his thoughts, with a squeeze of her hand he smiled at her too, their fingers intertwining. Though he glanced behind them before returning his eyes to her, they had just turned off onto a more...empty road. Gordon’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his chest tightened a fraction. “With you here? Of course I am, baby.” It helped to calm him that such a corny, cheesy joke made the shorter woman giggle, though he couldn’t help but think maybe he heard footsteps? No...no, he had forgotten his anxiety meds today that’s all it was, he trusted Rue and she didn’t look concerned. Why would someone follow them down the street, though...they were coming up on the bad side of town, his hand coming up to scratch his face feeling like eyes were burning into the back of his head, that would be impossible, though he had to fight the urge to check behind him again. “You’re a dork! I...Gordon are you alright?” Rue’s tone had changed from a gentle joking sound, to concern, a shift that Gordon himself didn’t ignore, nodding, his nails running over his own jawline. His dark eyes meeting her light ones with a smile in them. “Y-Yes sorry babe, I just...thought I heard something, no big deal...Just on edge.” His words trailed off, a brush on his arm as Rue smiled at him, trying to calm him with a touch. Rue herself was a shorter woman, long dark hair held back by a ponytail, her face was a soft pale, her eyes a dark brown with flecks of gold, a part of her he loved to look at. Her coat was dark, a peacoat over a short white dress, her shoes clicking on the cement as she held his hand, fingers intertwined with his, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. Rue’s makeup was gorgeous, and for the fourth time that night, Gordon wondered how exactly he had gotten such a beautiful woman to be with him. Gordon towered over her, though lanky and a bit of a beanpole. His hair was brown, fluffy and curly, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was also pale, though he was simply white instead of asian like the woman beside him. Gordon was in a blue button up covered in a pattern of white dots, a black vest with a white tie an outfit he was rather proud of. Lighter pants that were a bit tight, but when a hand brushed his ass, he figured with a soft flush rushing to his cheeks, Rue didn’t mind...his mind drifting to what might happen when they get back to the apartment, she did seem in the mood. Gordon’s horny thoughts were shattered, unable to hear her words much less understand them as he heard what sounded like footsteps again...He turned around, did he just see a shadow, rushing into the alleyway, just a couple dozen feet behind them? Gordon’s hand tensed, squeezing Rue’s, the woman’s words dying in her throat as Gordon’s pace picked up. His arm went back around her, pulling her into his side, as if scared any minute she’d be snatched away. “G-Gordon? What’s going on? Are you alright?” Her voice was quiet, though as she was brought closer, she paused, though her gait never slowed, he was shaking. Gordon was shaking against her, was it all in his head, anxiety amplified by his unmedicated state? Rue’s hand moved to his side, grabbing the shirt squeezing the fabric in her fingers as she waited for his response that never came, the sound of their shoes clicking on the concrete. Then she heard it, the sound of footsteps getting ever closer, but no matter how many times she or her partner looked behind them they didn’t see anyone, no one coming at them, making her swallow hard, fear gathered in her chest. Though it was clear it affected Gordon much more. “Gordon! Gordon it’s okay! We’re both just tired, a little worn out from today...Let’s calm down alright, why would someone go after two people, they’d be outnumbered baby.” Her words were gentle, softly pulling away to take his hand, comforting him as he grimaced, anxiety feeling like it was bubbling in his chest, burning a path down his torso to make even walking uncomfortable. “I...it...” Gordon was surprised at how difficult it was to actually get the words out of his mouth, his hair flopping into his eyes, he took his hands away, covering his face and looking to the ground. Deep even breaths filled his lungs as he tried to push away the burning fear, feeling his own palms, his own fingers trembling against his skin. “I’m alright I...just, maybe next time I’ll just drive us...” A nervous laugh fell from his lips as he tried to calm down, though the heat gathering in his belly, feeling like the world’s worst stomach ache wasn't going away by any means. Letting his hands fall from his face he paused, his eyes going wide, and the breath he was trying so hard to get under control went wild. Sitting there on the concrete was her little purse on its gold chain, laying there, she was gone, his head whipped around, wildly trying to figure out where she could have gone until he heard the sound of laughter and struggling down the dark alleyway in front of him. “Oh god, oh g-god Rue?! Rue?!” Not a second was wasted, rushing into the alley way he couldn’t think of anything besides her, though he was scared the idea of abandoning his girlfriend never crossed his mind, despite the tension all over him, the heat in his belly, gathering down only getting worse, his heart hammering in his chest. Every breath felt like it was fueling a fire in him, though one of fear, the smoke itself forming into nightmares of her already gone, bleeding out on the concrete. “One more move and this sweet lil’ thing is going to be out one little scrawny...nerd.” Gordon froze, hearing the click of metal against metal, Gordon was faced with the barrel of a gun, his breath catching, he froze in place like a deer caught in headlights, his knees pressing together, his hands shaking he looked past the gun at the woman holding it. Rue was behind her, eyes wide, fearful, clearly she was just a piece of bait to keep him from running, or calling the cops. She was taller than Rue, though shorter than Gordon, her hair was ginger, and loose, a little messy, green eyes and freckles with a shit eating smirk on her face, white teeth and confident squared shoulders...She wasn’t afraid of either of them, clearly not thinking Rue a threat her back to her, arm straight as the silver gun was pointed right between Gordon’s eyes. “Hands on the wall pretty boy, and any funny moves and I get to pick which one gets a brand new hole put into them...” Her voice was accented, Irish or Scottish he had a hard time telling, shaking so bad he could barely shuffle his feet forward, flinching hard when she moved the gun. “NOW! Cute as the two of you are, I don’t have time for bullshit, hands on the wall!” “Wait please! Let her go, she won’t say an-an….anything.” Gordon felt tears blurring his eyes, the shakes of his hands, his body felt overpowered by it’s own urges. The burning in his stomach only clawed lower, and a hand despite his own commands went to his stomach through his shirt, clutching at the fabric. A soft whimper leaving him as he realized his stutter, the one he worked so hard to get over was coming back, Rue’s eyes on him as she realized how close he was to having an anxiety attack. Gordon didn’t know what to do, the gun pointed at him, his shoes stumbled, tripping him, his hands hitting the brick wall of the alley with a painful scrap, skinning the heel of his palms, smears of his blood on the porous brick. He dug his fingers in between each brick, his knees pressed together he felt his lungs close up, tears blurring his vision even more than the fear did. He was panting, close to a panic attack, his knees forced together, it felt like he was going to explode, the liquid leaking down his cheeks clearing his vision, the tears hitting the ground below him like a punctuation to the fearful pants. He didn’t understand it, the powerful burning in his lower abdomen, pressure on his bladder, on his well...everything, he only tensed as he felt the gun press into his spine, breath catching he didn’t dare look at the woman in control of the situation...In control of him. “Got ourselves a little piss boy do we? A little pussy?” The Thief’s hands moved to slide up his side, feeling his coat pocket, he tensed, his knees trembling from the tightness of his muscles, his fingernails hurting from just how hard he was digging them into the wall. With a glance to Rue, who was stock still, she wasn’t shaking, she...she wasn’t crying, she was just watching...Shame washed over him like a blanket, making his stomach twist, painfully aware of how tight his jaw was, how wide his eyes were. “Gordon! It’s okay….she’ll just take what she wants, she won’t hurt us if we just...listen, it’s okay, it’s okay baby...” Gordon sniffed, a pitiful sound when his girlfriend was so much more calm than he was. He was the one fighting the urge to...to...piss himself, his body telling him it helped...it would make him feel so much better, but he shook his head, fighting it as he turned away, a soft sob shaking his body, the fear was too much for him...He was pitiful. “Got yourself a smartie now didn’t you? Listen to your girlie, I wouldn’t want to have to spill some blood, crybaby.” The woman, the thief, was teasing him. She found it funny that he was barely alright while Rue was fine, not even stuttering as she spoke. Pressing his forehead into the wall in front of him, the thief slipped her hands into his pockets, feeling around for a phone or a wallet, she took out both, tucking it away in her coat with a soft laugh, feeling the trembling shaking of the man in front of her. A chuckle brushed his ears as the gun dug into his back, making him tense, stand up[ straight, a breath sucked in as he cried out softly, a voice crack maring the soft noise like he was a scared teen, getting caught washing their wet sheets. “Aweee, what a knight in shining armor, your girlfriend is more man than you are.” Despite the tension in his thighs, his legs, the trembling of his knees, he couldn’t force his body to go stop once it started. The gun was shoved against his spine again, maybe it was because he tensed, or maybe the thief just liked to see him squirm. A sob fell from his lips, followed by tears, the boiling shame in his lungs was nothing like the heat and pressure on his lower half, it promised comfort, a way to escape the fear, though he seriously doubted it. A gush of warmth leaked down his thigh, what felt like lava rolled over the crotch of his pants, soaking the denim a darker color. With a whimper, he bit his lip, clasping his thighs together to try and stop it, though it was far too late now. The pitters of his piss hit the concrete, a stark contrast to the hushed hurried conversation between the three of them only a handful of minutes ago. His breath was like a cloud in front of him, hitting the cold air as the curls of his brown hair shook. Squeezing his eyes shut, tears slipped down his face, a hand clasping to his mouth as he heard Rue gasp. “G-Gordon you...on yourself...you...” Her words were cut off by the thief’s laughter, pushing the gun between the back of his pants and his coat, she lifted it, exposing his accident to his girlfriend, the cool air making his shiver but no...his body wasn’t done yet. “You’re dating a pussy who can’t even keep his shit together?! He’s crying for fucks sake! A little fucking pussy can’t even handle having a gun pointed at him, get a real man, instead of a god damn child.” Gordon hated this, it felt like something straight out of a nightmare! Shame, embarrassment, all of it was burning color on his pale cheeks as he tried not to let this get any worse. Then he felt his pants tighten, eyes flaring open wide, he knew what was happening, and wished to god he could stop it, the smell alone alerting both women...There was no way they wouldn’t know he was...messing himself, messing his own pants in front of them. It pushed against his brief, lumping against his cheeks, making a mess as it had nowhere to go but against him. No doubt smearing on his pale skin, he was disgusted, embarrassed by himself, the two girls were silent...silent as they stared at the man who just pissed all over himself...then even went so far as to literally mess...himself. “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?!” The thief was done making fun of him, he could barely see the disgusted look on her face through the veil of tears. His knees felt weak, his body freezing now that his mess, his...puddle were cooling in the night time air. The ginger woman who held his wallet and phone in her coat stepped back, then he saw stars, pain erupting from his temple, and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he was hearing Rue scream. More warm liquid gushed from him, re-soaking his pants, as blood dripped from the cut on his temple, dazed and confused, he realized he was sitting on the ground. His mess was staining the fabric of his pants, the pee puddle soaking into more and more of his pant legs, and he trembled unable to help it, he was so scared...The gun was between his eyes, pressing his head back into the alley wall, though all he could focus on was the shining metal. “Stop don’t-!” Rue’s voice, she had taken a step forward, wanting to protect him, but the gun was taken away from him and pointed at her, the thief said something, but his vision was fading, it was all a blur...The last thing he remembered was seeing Rue have her pockets searched, her hands up at her sides, she was watching him though, not even scared of the thief jabbing her with the gun… The last thing he felt was searing guilt, shame...He should have been the one trying to protect her! That was the night before, now...He didn’t know what to do himself, he couldn’t even meet Rue’s eyes after all of that, after she had seen him act like a little kid having a panic attack, how his body had tried to comfort him in the most...childish way imaginable. It was early morning, their shared apartment was quiet, too quiet...He hadn’t slept, neither had Rue, the two of them having spent the night cancelling cards and calling in the report. Gordon had showered, a towel hanging around his shoulders, wet hair clinging to his skin, bags under his eyes betraying the fact that he hadn’t even tried to sleep the night before. He wore basic black pajama pants, a white shirt with long-faded words, the clothes he had...ruined were double bagged and in the trash, his eyes glancing to it for half a second, too ashamed to look at it for any longer than that. “Baby?” Gordon started, his eyes flicking up to meet Rue’s, she had two mugs of coffee in her hand, moving to offer him one, she sat beside him on the couch, again he couldn’t meet her eyes. Rue moved a hand to touch his arm, her thumb rubbing soft comforting circles onto his skin, the comforting touch seemed to help a little, the man leaning into it with a sigh. “You’re being too hard on yourself...You were already nervous, and having a gun pointed at you...that’s not something you just deal with sweetheart, you didn’t get hurt that’s what matters.” Gordon recognized the soft gentle tone she was using, she meant what she said but, the mortification of what she had seen? He couldn’t get it out of his mind. “I...I’m supposed to be, a-a-an adult R...Rue.” He paused, biting his lip and looking down at his lap, feeling her hand stroke his wet hair, he didn’t push her away, ashamed of his stutter coming back, ashamed of himself as a person. “I’m su...su...supposed to be a man, I couldn’t e-even...I couldn’t...” Rue moved to lean into his side, her soft arm around him, he gently shrugged her off, glancing at her before looking away, moving to towel his hair in silence. Rue let the silence stretch on, he was upset, how could she comfort him over what happened? His body betraying him the way that it had? His cheeks were growing pink the more she watched him, looking away she barely caught the flash of his hand moving up to his face brushing a finger underneath his eye. Rue stood, taking his hand to her mouth she gave his knuckles a soft kiss, letting his hand fall back into his lap as she moved off into the bathroom, a part of her knew that the only way to make him feel better was...to show him that he wasn’t a failure, wasn’t...someone who couldn’t control his body. With a little slip out of the bottle, the laxative rolled into her hand, turning it over in her hand, a flush of pink rushed to her cheek, was she really going to do this? Was she really going to take this medicine? Then she thought of Gordon...crying in the front room, silently, the embarrassment on his face? She bit her lip, and moved to grab another pill, a muscle relaxer, one that would help with the other half of, what...happened to her poor boyfriend. Rue ran the sink, and within seconds the pills were down and she didn’t...feel anything yet but she knew that would change, hands on either side of the sink she looked into the mirror, running a finger under the bags she had under her eyes, leaving the bathroom with a soft click of the door. Gordon glanced up, seeing Rue enter, he raised a brow, eyes glancing down to the hand over her lower half, concerned knitting his brows as he used the towel to brush away the wetness on his own cheeks. “Babe? W-What’s wro...wrong sweetheart?” Gordon moved to stand, giving her a half smile, which she tried to return, before her other hand covered her mouth, wincing slightly as her body grumbled, pressure building in her lower half as she whimpered...It wasn’t painful but it was so quick, was this how he felt, scared, on display? “I-I Gordon...” Her eyes widened, surprised at her own voice, shaking her hands trembling, she winced, whimpering again as she trailed off. Her stomach gurgled, loudly between them, her eyes glancing up to meet his, Gordon’s eyes going wide, putting a hand over his mouth as he watched, her cheeks erupting into pink. Rue couldn’t help it, she leaned forward, her knees pressing together, she began trembling unable to control her body, glancing up at Gordon who couldn’t choose between second-hand embarrassment, or confusion. “W-What are you doing?! Rue you...you don’t have to do this I do...do...don’t.” His stutter was acting up, he trailed off, sweat dotting his brow as Rue shook her head as Gordon came close. Reaching a hand out she gripped his sleeve, flushing, her eyes squeezing closed as she pressed her face into his sleeve. With a soft shake of her head, Gordon paused feeling the warm wetness of tears brushing his sleeve. “R-Rue?” Without a second thought his arms went around her, she wasn’t faking it, she was pressing her face into his arm and crying softly, embarrassed about what she had done. The pressure was building up more and more, her lower half felt like it was burning, building up too much pressure, a burning pressure promising relief from the medicine pushing her body to its limits. Rue trembled suddenly, not so sure about this plan anymore as she felt Gordon’s warm hand in her hair, tracing the locks of her hair down her back. Trying to comfort her as she did exactly as he did in the alley way, her body was giving out on her, she didn’t have much time. “I...just wanted to try and show you it didn’t matter but I...can’t stop it...Gordon...” The more she spoke the more her voice went to a soft whisper, it took all her effort to try and stop it, her knees shaking to the point they almost gave out. Gordon’s arm was the only thing that kept her from hitting the floor. She tried to speak again, but it was too late, the body she could always trust was giving out on her, this was it, she was done for, even if she wanted to back out now she couldn’t. Warmth began to leak down her legs, the shorts she was wearing, so tight-fitting, light grey in color, started to darken between her cheeks unable to take the strain of the sudden rush of...liquid mess. The smell hit them both as suddenly as she lost control, with a cracked sob she jerked away from him, planning to run away, to hide from him, but it was too late, her body betrayed her. Now she knew the embarrassment he had felt in that alley way, freezing cold and covered in his mess...though it was her this time, her shorts were ruined… It wasn’t long before the warmth gushed down her front, her shorts darkening, a spurt of liquid coming from the front, a golden yellow stream dripping over the pale skin, soaking her socks and the carpet. Her mess mixed with her puddle, her toes pointing to each other as she gripped the hem of her shirt, her knees trembling as she pressed them together. Rivers of her embarrassment dripped off her knees as tears dripped down her cheeks, the warm rough hand of her boyfriend touched her cheek, through blurry teary eyes she saw his soft smile, feeling his warm kiss on her forehead. “Shh it’s okay baby, you didn’t have to for me...Let’s get you cleaned up...Shhh.” Gordon brought her close, her body trembling underneath his arms as the carpet got ruined underneath her, Rue gripping the front of his shirt, her trembling against him. She softly cried, nuzzling into his arm, feeling his face pressing into the top of her head, it felt so good to be comforted, she never wanted him to go through this again but he seemed better...Their bodies couldn’t handle the stress of that night with the Thief. ---------- Thank you so much to pp123 for letting me write for you!! I hope you enjoy!
  14. He never got a break, not even one, not in this hellhole that masqueraded as an office building. Scrambling in the dark with nothing but a flashlight in his hand, not running even as the...monster crawled behind him on four massive hands like some sort of fever dream nightmare. Frantically trying to slap that button into the wiring and press it, those cubicles finally moved, getting out of the way for him so he could see down the dark tunnel that would...somehow lead out of here for him. He could hear it, the D.O.T Matrix coming closer, the flashlight in his hand wavering with his shaking limbs, not letting him look away from the dim glow of it, the hands moving so unnaturally...What little amount of confidence he had after finally solving this puzzle was broken, he couldn’t take this anymore, the beam of light flickering over the monster, his own hand unable to be steady as his feet moved. Forcing him to run, alerting the monster, but he was already gone, breaking out into a place more well-lit, his footsteps slowed to a stop, Brian’s chest heaved, gasping for air, his slim body not built for all the running he was forced to be doing as a hunter...How had it only been a handful of hours in this hell of his? Brian’s eyes went wide, the tremble that never seemed to leave his shoulders, arms...knees, making him shake as he looked up at this mountain of appliances, lockers, and wires. He couldn’t go around this, he’d have to find another way, maybe risk getting attacked by an overworked office worker, and climb a cubicle wall? He tried to calm himself, taking the moment of silence to flick off his flashlight, turning back into the area with the D.O.T Matrix...Maybe it had left knowing it’s prey had escaped? Two steps, the sound of his cheap shoes hitting the tiles before again he heard it, the sound of a screeching dying printer, scrambling at him, beeping angrily at him like he was somehow the cause of all its problems. His fingers loosened around his flashlight, tightening just before he dropped it sweat soaking his underarms, before he turned...Without hesitation he went spelunking into the odd nest, the absurd thought flashing to the forefront of his mind as he scrambled behind some wires, an old filing cabinet casting its shadow on the man. Was this its nest? No that is absurd, it’s a machine! Right? His breath felt so loud, like it would give him away at any minute, and he forced a hand to go over his lower lips, covering his nose as his vision blurred, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. Fear was his only friend most of the time, now he was even scared he lost Kate. The sound of a printer, one that seemed to have the world’s worst paper jam came closer, finger nails off giant hands scraping the floor and making Brian tense, his muscles spasming from just how tightly he held them. He was so scared, so so scared of dying for this witch hunting cause. Brian couldn’t close his eyes, the flashlight slipping from his fingers and hitting a bundle of wires, before rolling onto the tile and hitting his shoe. It was a soft noise, the softest, but what he knew fucked him was the tiny teary gasp he made. The machine, too massive to be anything but another nightmare came to life paused in its gait, the buttons on its ‘face’ beeping, changing color, as it changed direction. It had only just barely come inside the nest, but now it was facing his hiding spot. Moving slowly it came towards him, glowing lights shining a thin shaft on his face as his knees trembled. Warmth gathered in his stomach, and he didn’t know if he was going to puke or pass out, he couldn’t...He couldn’t take this! He was so scared! Why wouldn’t anyone come to save him? His knees pressed together, his ankles moving apart, yet Brian still couldn’t close his eyes. Tears overwhelmed them, and slipped down his cheeks, dripping onto his soft blue blazer, darkening little spots on the fabric. Brian felt more than that liquid on himself, and his eyes went so wide he was sure they’d pop out of his skull for a split second, his other hand, free from its burden, pushed itself between his thighs feeling the warm wet heat. ‘No...notnow...please...pleaseplease...not now’’ It was a mantra inside his head, the issue he had been hoping to avoid all day finally coming back to haunt him. He had hoped he’d have one day, just one where he didn’t have to be scared of pissing himself, not on his new job..not on his first day. His hand squeezed himself, fingers trembling as he pressed his other hand’s palm harder against his own lips, his knees pressing together in the hopes of keeping himself from wetting, he should have worn protection...but he had been so scared of someone seeing it through his pants! His first day was such a mess, and now...so was he. The D.O.T Matrix came closer, the box of the printer pressing against wires as something loudly creaked underneath them, something Brian hoped to god wouldn’t be another awful nightmare. As the machine got closer, Brain gently shuffled backwards, his shaking back touching more wires, the wall of the nest, warmth that felt like a fire gathering lower and lower in his stomach, promising him it could make him feel better..like the liar it always was when his body betrayed him. He drew in a breath, trying to calm himself down...but it was too harsh, too loud, the D.O.T Matrix reached out its metal arm, slipping it through the small gap in the wires to reach out of him, and...his body just simply couldn’t take the strain, the tension...the fear he held in his body. Rivulets of yellow ran down the soft blue fabric, making him whimper, a sound the D.O.T heard, he knew it heard, but at this point that metal arm driving itself into his skull, taking away all the pain and fear sounded kind of nice. The suit’s color darkened down one leg of his pants, soaking all the way down to his shoes, gathering on the tile as he let out a muffled sob against the palm of his hand, his eyes finally closing as the shadow of that thin metal arm came closer to him. The fabric couldn’t hold much more than his initial stream, and he cried into his hand, whimpering and sobbing, eyes squeezed closed, as the liquid streamed harder from the fabric, pittering to the floor, the sound mixing with the heartbeat he seemed to feel in his ears. The golden puddle rippling as he dared to peak open his eyes, wanting to see why the D.O.T hadn’t killed him, spilled his blood so his coworkers could find him the way he deserved to be found, bloody in a puddle of his own piss...He was so pathetic… The arm was wavering, static charges jumping from the metal an inch from his face, making his trembles and sobs that much worse. The poor little witch hunter couldn’t take it anymore, his knees gave out and he sunk to the floor, the blue fabric of his suit soaking through. It was growing cold, not helping his trembles as he wrapped an arm around himself, watching the monster desperately try to reach him, and for a second...he thought about going to it. Then, all at once, with a loud crack, the floor gave away, Brian’s screams, cracking in the middle like a prepubescent boys, faded in the dark hole, the light-less abyss swallowing him whole.
  15. From the album: My furry omorashi Artwork

    I've already drew Sonic, so now here's the turn of Knuckles! Another commission I've got, and it great time because I'm trying to have the money for paying my landlord for my apartment this month. So I'm still open for commissions, if someone wants to ask, feel free to DM. It's been a lot of fun doing him in this situation, because he's a toughie, so he'd not have the traditional shy face. I imagined he could have a serious and a bit upset face, because he would be worried he'd look vulnerable to his enemies if he'd let people know he's desperate.

    © Cephy

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