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  1. Desperate Lilith This story is loosely based on Diablo 4 and the arc of Lilith. I had an absolute blast writing it. Though I decided to give Lilith a more <ahem> appropriate look, fitting with the story. Enjoy! Return from Void After a perilous quest the adventurers reached the tomb of Lilith. They were too blinded in their quest of gold, to pay any heed to the warnings of the scholar. When they entered the tomb, Elias wasted no time and pinned them against the walls using his telekinetic strength. Three bound and terrified individuals wept before him, their pleading eyes reflecting their desperation. Their muffled screams filled the chamber, but they were mere offerings to the darkness that Elias sought to unleash. With trembling hands, Elias raised a wickedly sharp crystal above his head and chanted those unholy words. Within a flash, the bodies of the three individuals started melting. In the midst of the growing darkness, a swirling vortex of their blood materialized at the centre of the circle. Shadows writhed and twisted, coalescing into a figure of absolute terror. And there she stood, Lilith, the fallen queen, emerging from the void with an aura of malevolence. Lilith's beauty was deceptive, her visage a delicate balance between allure and horror. Her porcelain skin was as pale as death itself, fiery crimson hair and huge deadly locks of horns cascaded around her like molten lava, framing her sharp, seductive features. Her eyes, two pools of darkness, held an ancient wisdom and a hunger for power that pierced through the soul. Her form was sinuous and ethereal, clad in scanty layers of flowing garments that barely left anything to imagination. A cage like corset clinched her waist tight, giving her the perfect hour-glass shape. Her long legs appeared from underneath the tight draping of her nether. It was a complex arrangement of clothes locked and sewn with the corset, something which would prove to be a great hindrance should she need to relieve herself. A sinister smile played upon her lips, revealing razor-sharp teeth. Shadows clung to her, shifting, and undulating with a life of their own. Her presence exuded a palpable aura of fear and domination, an unmistakable sign that chaos and devastation were soon to follow. The Vial of Power The moment Lilith stepped down on the floor, she collapsed. She looked at her own hands with anger in her eyes. “The void has made me weak; I must regain my strength if I am to claim the sanctuary.” “Mother, I could only offer you three weaklings to bring you back. But I have a potion that is made of the sanctuary’s strongest females’ blood and water!” Elias offered a vial containing glowing yellow liquid to Lilith and bowed to her. “This devotion of yours will be rewarded generously.” Lilith swiftly drank the liquid from the vial. In a flash, Lilith started transforming. Her hair grew longer, horns thicker and sharper, eyes lit up with a fierce red glow. Her breasts pumped up and threatened to burst out of the little cups of her dress. Her waist and hips got fuller, pushing against the tight confines of her golden corset. Elias watched in astonishment as she levitated above the ground casting a long ominous shadow. There was one more thing that Elias wanted to tell Lilith. “Mother, there is something you must know, before you go out to conquer the sanctuary!” Elias said with a low pleading voice breaking Lilith’s moment. “Yes, my child . . .Tell me . . . Everything” Lilith bent over and whispered into his ear. “The vial though bestows immense power to the bearer”, Elias gulped down his throat. “It. . . It comes with its own challenges” “I have survived in the void. . . What can possibly be a challenge for me?” “The potion is known to ravages the bladder of the bearer. It sends a flood of all the filthy piss, swifter than you can imagine. This was done to prevent anyone from becoming too powerful”. Lilith frowned, “How dare you think so small of me. I am the daughter of hatred . . . the mother of Nephalem! And you think, I cannot hold my flood back as if I am a mere mortal! I am immune and above such trivialities.” “Of course, my mother!” His eyes fell on her wasp thin waist, clasped tightly under her cage-like golden corset. From underneath the corset, a faint flow came from her belly. His lips trembled as he realized the potion had already started showing its effect. But he froze in place, as Lilith ran her sharp nails over his pale cheeks, making him bleed. Elias mustered courage to speak again, “Mother. Save us from the Eternal conflict. Save the sanctuary from the High Heavens and Burning Hells!” “I am not here to save. I am here to empower.” A cunning smile formed on her lips, “Pushing me into the void was Inarius’s weakness. He could bring himself to end me - a weakness that will cost dearly to the heavens and the hells. I must reach the Cathedral and find out where have they hidden the keys to hell! Once I get the key I will make a deal with Astaroth with an offer he simply can’t refuse.” The Cathedral of Control It was a long journey through the frigid regions of the Fractured peaks. The wind was cold and the flakes sharp enough to cut through steel. Her strong presence was felt across the sanctuary and soon defenders arrived to stop her. At the same time, the cultists who worshipped her came to fight for her and slaughtered the guardians. “My children are here with me, and I make a promise to you all that we shall destroy the eternal conflict forever!” There was a huge uproar and soon the word spread in the sanctuary that the demon queen had returned. Lilith savoured on the flesh of the dead and drank their gore, satiating her decade long hunger and thirst. Hours were spent by her in slaying her opposers and renegades. Elias came running to her. He was shocked to see Lilith drinking blood from each of the dead. “Mother, I beg you not to drink so hastily. It will add to your. . .” Lilith scowled at him with rage in her eyes. “Don’t you dare!” “I’m sorry Mother. I bear some news, that a girl named Neyrelle, and her partner Wanderer have set out on a journey to find the keys to hell as well. As we speak they are trying to reach the Cathedral of Light. Neyrelle is the daughter of Vhenard, who knows the ancient runes, has read the old texts, and has profound knowledge about Horadrim. She is a force to be reckoned with.” Elias emphasized. Pangs occurred in her belly as the combination of the blood she drank, and the potion started to show its effects. A frown appeared on Lilith’s face as she felt the power and pressure within herself grow. “In that case, lets pay the Cathedral a visit, long overdue.” Lilith rose from her place, clenching her muscles. “Still under control” She thought to herself and started on her way to the Cathedral. The hallowed halls were going to witness to an epic struggle of a different kind today. Inside its confines, the formidable demon queen Lilith hid in the shadows, wrestling her rapidly filling bladder. It was no less than a demon, one that clawed and gnawed at her from within. Lilith's normally graceful silhouette cut a discordant figure against the grand entrance. Her striking crimson cloak flowed with an urgency that echoed the tumultuous waves of desperation coursing through her body. Her eyes, usually blazing with embers of command, flickered with a strained hardness. Merely six hours into the sanctuary and yet her incredibly strong self was locked in a brutal tug of war with her body's incessant demand for relief and the greater cause. Ultimately she silenced her bodily desire, “I am not going to look out for any relief. I must act to get the keys to hell”. The towering sanctuary of the cathedral loomed before her as she located the high priestess. A curvy figure swathed in authority, the gatekeeper of the coveted knowledge. The woman's defiance lit a fierce spark in Lilith, the flames further fanned by the torturous pressure within her. "I see you keep guard of the forbidden knowledge. Speak of the key, where is it hidden?” Her demand ripped through the silent cathedral like a thunderclap, echoing gloomily against the cold stone walls. The priestess refused. “I denounce you demon! You shall never have the key to Hell!” Her refusal fanned the inferno within Lilith, her frustration mounting with each passing second. “You shall not?” Lilith came closer to the priestess and lifted her by her collar. “I will not yield!” the priestess defiantly countered, despite the tightening grip of Lilith. Lilith's fuse was perilously short. A significant amount of piss resided in Lilith’s bladder bothering her control. Each word, each confrontation was a punch to her straining bladder, a silent, torturous battle masked by the drama unfolding. Her desperation was taking a serious toll on her ability to mind-control the priestess. “Hold it Lilith. You cannot let the Priestess win.” Lilith said to herself and let go of the priestess, making her fall on the floor with a thud. She took a deep breath and tapped into her demonic aura. She loomed ominously over the frail priestess, her eyes flaring menacingly. But beneath the intimidating façade, her body trembled from the rapidly growing need for relief. An unintended wince crossed her face, quickly replaced by a forced snarl. Despite her scary stance, the stubborn resistance of the priestess was more than Lilith could bear. Lilith squeezed herself tighter and looked into the soul of the priestess to find something shocking. The priestess was herself desperate for a relief, almost at the end of her tether. “I see that you are struggling to contain yourself.” Lilith smiled devilishly. “Give me the location and I shall spare your dignity.” The priestess suddenly felt her desperation rise rapidly. She shoved her hand in her crotch. Finally, the priestess crumbled under the weight of Lilith's will and revealed to her that the key was in the cave near lake Yasama. “Now you may have you relief!” Lilith made the priestess wet herself. A huge puddle formed around the priestess making Lilith wince. “Your kind has become weak. I am holding more waters than you can ever imagine, but I shall not piss, not until the time is right.” Lilith whispered. “No, you demon! You will meet the same fate as mine.” The priestess sobbed. Lilith smirked and tore away from the cathedral. The words of the priestess echoed in her ears as she hurriedly scuffled out of cavernous space. Her usual graceful strides were replaced by a hurried, stiff-legged pace. Even though Lilith boasted of her impeccable strength, a considerable amount was being consumed by her increasing need to pee. “I never thought I could ever get desperate for a piss!” Lilith swore herself. “Perhaps, now that I know where the keys are, I can find somewhere secluded to relieve myself!” As Lilith stepped out in the cold, a raven suddenly appeared. It was Elias’s. “Mother, Neyrelle and the Wanderer are closing in. In the village Yasama you will find the old lady Vhenard, who is also the mother of Neyrelle. Only she can help you cross the lake.” “I know what I have to do. Now, fly away from here.” Lilith commanded. Her hopes of finding relief were dashed. With the daunting journey to the next village, Yasama, looming ahead, she felt the knot of dread tighten in her stomach. But she refused to capitulate. She was in a fight, not just for the keys, but for her command over Sanctuary. Her need to piss came secondary. The Entrance to Yasama “All this pounding pressure is taking too much power from me. I am getting slow!” Lilith thought as she navigated her way to the little village of Yasama. Soon she was stood at the horizon, scanning for any potential places she could quickly sneak to. For Lilith, the formidable demon queen, it was not a destination, but a gauntlet to cross. Her body screamed for mercy. The diuretic potion was pumping piss inside her bladder like a waterfall. Her bulge pushing against the tight metallic corset. Every breath of hers, intensified her burning need to pee, the most primal of human urges. It was a brutal reminder of her mortal shell. But the day was unyielding, and so was she. “There is a place I shall use to unleash my waters. No one will ever know.” Lilith had hopes in her eyes as she spotted a secluded patch surrounded by dense tress. As she approached the spot of the village, the ground rumbled beneath her, the silent afternoon shattered by the charging ranks of defenders. Yasama was prepared, but Lilith was ready too. “If you stop me now, you are going to bear the brunt of my desperation!” In her mind, the need to relieve herself and the need to fight fused into a single, potent desire for victory. The first defender lunged at her, a brutish figure with a snarling face, his raised weapon glinting menacingly in the dim light. Lilith deflected his blow, striking back with a ferocity that matched the intensity of her tormenting urge. She danced through the battlefield, her movements precise yet urgent, the strain apparent in her strained breaths. Each clash echoed the silent symphony of her desperation, a wordless aria that only she could hear. More defenders swarmed her, their numbers unending. Each blow she blocked, every dodge, every twist, was a calculated risk, a daring dance between maintaining her control and asserting her dominance. Every jarring impact was a cruel reminder of the war waging within her, each victorious takedown a bitter triumph. But amidst the chaos, she felt a growing wave of frustration — the battle outside was relentless and so was the one inside. Every aggressive movement, every flex of her muscle, her internal pressure soared, a dam straining to its limits. Despite killing hundreds of the defenders, they kept coming. Lilith had enough. She steeled herself and summoned an inner strength even she didn't know she possessed. Her eyes glowed brighter than ever. The veins under her skin glowed red just like her bladder. Then, with a guttural roar that rang through the village, she unleashed her most potent spell. A red flaming wave of fiery destruction tore through the ranks of defenders, the ground shaking beneath her, threatening to dislodge the precariously balanced control over her bladder. The sudden exertion almost undid her. She teetered on the brink of disaster, her dignity hanging by a thread. But through sheer will, she held on, the sensation a biting, vicious entity within her, a devil more real than any she'd encountered. As the dust settled and the last defender fell, Lilith spotted the figure of Vhenard across the battlefield. The old villager stood on the edge of the forbidden lake, her frail frame trembling in the aftermath of the intense fight. The sight of Vhenard marked the end of one battle and the beginning of another. But it was the sight of a secluded spot near the lake that gave her a sliver of hope. Lilith’s lips trembled. The opportunity to relieve was too enticing but the risk of losing the old one was equally deterring. “Just a little longer”, Lilith assured herself. Her heart pounded underneath her sweaty breasts. Her rigid composure was on the verge of shattering, her confident facade close to breaking. She had survived a demanding battle, each second a testament to her resilience. But the evening was far from over, and her greatest challenge was yet to come. With the path to her sweet relief within sight, Lilith braced herself, drawing on the last of her strength. The Cunning Lake Lilith took careful steps towards Vhenard. The veins on her thighs told the story of her strained bladder being forced to contain itself. Her pace a gruelling march of endurance. The keys to hell were closer than ever, yet the journey to them felt longer than any she had ever undertaken. Every inch of her screamed for release, her muscles taut with exertion, but she couldn't give in, not yet. She had come too far, fought too hard, endured too much. One battle was over, another was about to begin. “You must be Vhenard, the old lady who speaks to the lake. I need you to open the way to the cave in exchange of your daughter’s life!” Lilith spoke, her words ending in strain. “I - I will not give in to your demands. You killed the entire village.” Vhenard sobbed. “They died at their own hands. I did not want to kill them, but they chose to attack me.” Lilith slowly rested her hand on Vhenard’s head. “Like, I don’t intend to kill your gullible daughter, Neyrelle. If you join my side, your daughter will be safe.” With one twirl of her finger, Lilith showed Vhenard a vision, where she and Neyrelle were away from the abyss in a happy land. Lilith knew very well that the fear of death of the loved ones always melted humans, and she used the same bait to bend Vhenard to her wishes. She finally gave in to Lilith’s demonic aura. Lilith signalled her to begin while standing right behind her. What she didn’t want Vhenard to know was that beneath her impenetrable exterior, she was grappling with a situation so bizarre it was almost insulting. Her bladder was teetering on the edge of open rebellion. Her vanity-chosen corset was regretfully turning into a torture device. It bit into her midsection, each stitch adding to the urgency of her discomfort. Despite being the queen of succubi, daughter of hatred, Lilith couldn’t comprehend how she still felt weak like a normal human just after holding her pee for 15 hours. Needless to say, drinking the blood of so many humans, seeing the priestess wet herself and enduring a physically taxing battle with the defenders was proving too much for her. "The illustrious life of a demon queen," she scoffed, an internal eyeroll accentuating her sentiment, "the mightiest of them all, now at the mercy of her own damned bladder." Yet, Lilith would not utter a word for help. Her reputation for being the deadliest would be destroyed if anyone saw her rushing for a pee. It was her mission, a time-bound quest that was constantly shrinking. Even though Lilith was getting antsy she could not bring herself to ask Vhenard for a privy. She chose to endure. She kept her form stiff, her gaze piercing, her mind bouncing between self-encouragement and bouts of self-reproach. "Hold it together, Lilith," she hissed between clenched teeth, "you can endure this. You've braved worse than a... a rebellious bladder!" With each languid syllable that fell from Vhenard's lips, Lilith's felt a drop of piss getting added into her bladder. The woman chanted in slow, undulating waves, her tremulous hands weaving complex figures in the air. To Lilith's fevered mind, she might as well have been reciting an endless lullaby. A frenzied rhythm began to tap from Lilith's foot, her fingers coiling into tighter knots. "What is this woman waiting for, the apocalypse?" Lilith groaned, the edge of her teeth grinding together. Uncharacteristic jittery movements began to replace her usual composed strides. The pressure was ballooning, and with it, her irritation. Vhenard, blissfully unaware of the looming disaster, continued her infuriatingly slow incantations. Lilith was a hair's breadth away from hurling the dawdling woman into the water and braving the lake herself, potential curses be damned. But before she could do so, Vhenard extended her hand towards Lilith, startling her. “Please give me your hand my lady. . . The lake wants to know about your greatest fear. It will test your willpower before it allows you to cross it”. “How will a lake test my willpower?” “You shall see. . .” “I am Lilith, I fear nothing. I only pity how it is to be weak like your kind!” She scowled and placed her hand in Vhenard’s. Vhenard’s touch was gentle, but it sent a shockwave through her, as if she could sense Lilith’s tumultuous inner turmoil. Her eyes narrowed as she inhaled sharply, a revelation dawning on her. "You're on the brink, aren't you?" she asked, a hint of mockery in her voice. "You need to... relieve yourself." Lilith jerked her hand away, her cheeks heating in indignation. "I will not piss in front of a mere mortal" she snapped, her desperation morphing into anger. But the truth was, Vhenard had hit the nail on the head, Lilith’s worst fear was indeed losing control, and it was uncomfortably close to becoming a reality. Lilith’s body was in full revolt, demanding attention with increasing intensity, like an angry deity craving appeasement. Her heart pounded in sync with her throbbing bladder. The normally calm, collected Lilith was a picture of barely contained desperation, her plight heightened by the daunting task at hand, which was to stand still. Turning to the lake, Vhenard conveyed Lilith's state, despite her vehement objections. The lake responded with a glimmering ripple, a mischievous glint that reflected off its tranquil surface and whispered to Vhenard. “If Lilith is to be granted passage, she must show that she deserves it by enduring a greater challenge, a test of willpower,” Vhenard conveyed it to Lilith plainly. As if on cue, a sudden surge of pressure gripped Lilith, her bladder shrieking in protest. It was as if the lake had physically squeezed her, tightening its cruel grip on her body. Within a flash, she collapsed on the ground, a crushing weight inside her bladder pulled her down. Her desperation shot up to levels beyond her imagination. She closed her fists tight and curled on the floor. Piss threatened to explode from her floodgates, which she was fighting hard to deny. A gasp escaped her lips as she clamped her lower muscles with every bit of strength she had left. The fullness was unbearable, her desperation peaking to new, uncharted heights. Yet, in spite of the intense torment wracking her body, Lilith didn't give up. She gritted her teeth together, her knuckles turning white as she balled her fists at her sides. Her body quivered with the monumental effort it took to hold on, a testament to her struggle. "There is no turning back now, Lilith," Vhenard cautioned. "If you want to make it to the other side my lady, you must bear more and more pressure." Lilith gulped down her throat as she straightened herself and stood back up. Her leg muscles cramped with every breath. Her resolve was unwavering. This was a test of her endurance, and she was hell-bent on passing it. “I d-don’t need to pee.” she whispered more to herself, her voice thick with determination, her red eyes glistening with grit. Every step into the shimmering water was a herculean task, each ripple of the lake sending a corresponding ripple of torment through her body. She could feel the lake probing her will, testing her mettle with each agonizing moment. "You're not going to make it," a small voice inside her head hissed, but Lilith sternly silenced it. She couldn't allow herself to falter, not now, not when she was so close. Against all odds, she made it across the mystical lake. The final step onto the shore felt like the greatest victory she had ever tasted. Her legs were shaking, her body threatening to give up on her, but the sheer relief of having completed the task held her upright. Every drop of her once unshakeable willpower was summoned to maintain her composure, her visage, but the strain was palpable. “If the lake demands that I need to sacrifice my comfort, then I will!” It was impossible, Lilith knew it deep down in her heart. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit it. In fact, she could almost visualize it, the serene release and the fleeting sense of peace that would come with it. The thought was both torturous and tantalizing, a dream within sight but just out of reach. She gritted her teeth, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. With each successive step, the wet slaps of water against stone seemed louder, more pronounced. The lake's surface, once a picture of tranquil beauty, now felt like an adversary. It was a cruel irony that the very element that symbolized relief was also intensifying her anguish. After an eternity of baby steps, the moment she was safe on the other side, Lilith rushed towards the nearest shrubbery, out of Vhenard’s line of sight. Her heart pounded in her chest as she finally, prepared to give herself the relief she so desperately craved. She was victorious. She had proved her worth to the lake, to Vhenard, but most importantly, to herself. The formidable Lilith had not been bested, not even by her own body. With a shuddering body Lilith rushed to unclasp her intricate and complex lock of the corset, just when she heard the voice of Neyrelle and Wanderer from the other side of the lake. “FUCK!” Lilith yelled and hastily walked towards the cave. After forcing open the doors with her shaking legs, she found the keys to hell. Within a blink of an eye, she broke the protection spell around it and grabbed the key. A massive surge of power ran through her body making her even more vulnerable to pissing herself. Despite having Godly powers, holding her pee for a day was still a tough job for her. More than rushing to the hell, she yearned to unleash the lake inside her. This mere thought almost opened her floodgates. “Did I just leak?”, Lilith quickly shoved her hand in the crotch, but she was still dry. Her quivering lips under the tight underwear draping, somehow remained corked up. Her eyes suddenly fell on the privy. Her eyes welled up with happiness. Relief was just a few steps away. But with her first step towards it, a creaking noise echoed through the cave. Alas! Neyrelle and Wanderer had crossed the lake and barged into the cave, astonishingly fast. Lilith was not in a position to fight with the duo. “I might flood this cave if I try to fight!” She cast a last longing glance at the door of the privy and decided to escape through the secret pathway, known only to her. Deal or Delays with Astaroth Coming out from the wicked cave, Lilith found herself waddling on her way to the Cathedral of Hatred. It was a long murky path. Each step was a stab in her bladder. To make the matters worse, Neyrelle and Wanderer were on her tail. “This is getting out of hands now. That cursed potion – Why did you drink it you foolish Lilith!” She talked to herself as inched towards the hell barrier, inadvertently trying to loosen her corset buckles. Her boulder like bladder needed all and every room possible but the corset just didn’t cooperate with her sweaty sliding fingers. “Then these tight, complex drapes of cloth.” Lilith cursed herself again. Stripping out of her clothes would need considerable time, a luxury which she couldn’t afford. With nerves frayed and desperation clawing at her sanity, somehow reached the barrier and was welcomed with a bright orange glow from the mighty coming from a stone. Lilith held her breath and clenched herself harder. She needed both hands to pull out the stone. Her bladder not happy with the decision suddenly contracted hard. She almost collapsed on the ground but didn’t give in. With all her might, she pulled out the stone, sending a hammer wave of desperation across her body. She double crossed her legs as the the stone pulsed, a heartbeat within a heart of rock. The visage of Astaroth shimmered into view, a twisted shadow within the stone’s heart. His grin was all sharp teeth and malevolent promise. Lilith trembled and held the stone tightly. It wasn't the spectral gloom of the stone that made her tremble, nor was it the ominous, nether worldly aura the stone radiated. No, it was a far more mortal and undignified reason - the overwhelming force that was hitting her pee hole from inside. The demon mead she had drunk earlier in the day was pressing against her insides with unrelenting force. Her wasp-thin corset still on without a single buckle unhooked. It was acting as a merciless tormentor. But Lilith was nothing if not resilient. Masking her bodily agony with a veneer of demonic regality, she tried to maintain a façade of normalcy. “Astaroth,” Lilith’s voice was as cold and commanding as ever, even as the strain tugged at the edges of her tone. “I need you to open the barrier to hell immediately. In exchange, I offer you your freedom." An unholy chuckle echoed within her mind, a crackling fire in the midst of an icy lake. "Lilith, always straight to business. But my freedom comes at a price higher than just a mere safe passage to hell." A deep breath steeled her resolve. She clenched her jaw and kept her gaze focused on the stone, ignoring the torturous twinge in her lower abdomen. Every passing moment brought her closer to breaking point. It was a race against time, one she was on the verge of losing. "What do you want, Astaroth?" she growled, her fingers gripping the stone tighter. "Freedom alone will not suffice. Bring me, Donan and Yorim. They owe me suffering.” A chill skittered up Lilith's spine, not born of fear, but of frustration. This new demand was a cruel curveball. Donan and Yorim were not easily found or persuaded, and every second spent seeking them was another second added to her physical torment. A surge of desperation made her eyes water, the strain threatening to shatter her hard-won composure. She was hanging on by a thread, a thin, frayed thread of endurance that was close to snapping. She could feel her control slipping, like sand seeping through clenched fingers. With a strangled sigh, Lilith managed to keep her voice steady, though the strain was evident. "Astaroth. If you open the barrier now I will free you immediately. . .I need to go inside very urgently.” “Do you need to take a piss Lilith? Have you gone down to such lows that you can’t even resist containing your waters?”, Astaroth's laugh echoed, his shadowy form flickering like a torch in the wind. Lilith stood tall, her every muscle strained to the point of breaking. “Careful Astaroth, I might need to ease myself but nothing that I cannot manage. I shall return with Yorim and Donan.” She tried to save her dignity and quickly turned around to leave. The ordeal was far from over. Somewhere in her mind, the mission of entering the hell was replaced by to finding a relief, long time ago. The ticking time bomb within her added an extra layer of tension, urgency, and desperation to her quest. Her ordeal simply refused to come to an end. Lilith’s Downfall Lilith, the formidable demon queen, stumbled into the rustic village of Yorim, her body aching from the merciless strain of her prolonged predicament. Her tall, imposing figure was bent, a subtle, almost imperceptible stoop in her otherwise rigid posture. Every nerve, every sinew in her body was shrieking for release, a crescendoing plea that echoed ominously in the confines of her mind. Her control over the call of nature wavering like an unstable pendulum. The consequences of failure rang clear in her mind; her hard-earned command over the Sanctuary would crumble. Her powers of seduction, manipulation, and mind-control would dissipate like smoke in the wind, rendering her incapable of securing her precious passage to hell from Astaroth. With her bladder verging on the edge of catastrophe, Lilith forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Each step she took sent tremors of discomfort rocketing through her. Her usually elegant stride was replaced by an awkward waddle, her knees pressed tightly together, every ounce of her concentration devoted to maintaining a semblance of control. The desperation etched on her face was skilfully masked with an icy, commanding façade, but beneath it, her eyes flickered with panic. She was teetering dangerously on the brink, her every heartbeat a ticking time bomb pushing her closer to an impending disaster. The corset, a cursed piece of fashion, was cinched tightly around her waist, squeezing her already strained bladder to an excruciating point. She could feel the devastating urge growing with each passing second, her body demanding relief that she could not afford. As she approached her destination, her desperate need to relieve herself was like a second heartbeat, drumming away in sync with her pulse. The private chamber of Yorim lay ahead, a task she would usually approach with confidence and poise. Today, however, it loomed ominously like a towering mountain, each step closer akin to a painful ascent. The pressure in her bladder was crippling, a constant reminder of the long-held, unbearable need. Every fibre of her being screamed for a release that was so desperately sought after, yet painfully elusive. Her lower abdomen was full to the brim, the corset she wore amplifying her discomfort tenfold. Drawing in a shaky breath, she cautiously opened the door to his chamber. Her eyes, usually gleaming with determination, were wide and desperate, darting immediately to the privy at the far end. It was so close, yet an unattainable sanctuary. The sight of it hit her like a punch in the gut. A surge of desperation washed over her, the sight of the privy igniting a heightened sense of urgency within her. The wooden door of the small room was tormenting her, a cruel mirage of sweet relief. Her thoughts wavered as she imagined the relief that awaited her, the pressure being released in one heavenly moment. But each thought only amplified her desperate need. She fantasized about abandoning her mission, casting aside her dignity, and rushing to the privy. It was an enticing vision – a forbidden fruit that she so desired yet could not reach. But she steeled herself, reminding her of the stakes. She imagined the cool stone beneath her, the relief washing over her in waves. But each imagined sigh of relief only served to intensify her actual discomfort. It was a mental tug-of-war, a battle of willpower. A single thought, a single step towards the privy could spell her doom. She was dancing on the edge of disaster, the tightrope she was balancing on growing thinner with every passing second. It took every shred of her willpower to push the enticing thought away and focus on Yorim. Shuffling closer to him, she forced a sultry smile onto her face. Her voice, usually smooth and enticing, wavered as she began her seduction. "Yorim," she purred, her words ending in an unintended squeak of strain, "A bright lad like you w-wasting your life in pee – v-village?" Her mind was elsewhere, her sentences fragmented and nonsensical, her gaze flickering between Yorim's face and the door of the privy. Every muscle in her body was screaming for release, but she couldn't let it show. She held herself tighter, trying to maintain her dignity, her desperation climbing to new, dizzying heights. "Away you devil," Yorim tried to push her back. He looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You cannot even stand still and you speak of me" "I'm fine, Yorim," she quickly retorted, her voice strained. "Yes, it’s because I need something that you have." She attempted a flirtatious giggle, but it came out as a pained grunt, earning her another questioning look from Yorim. "Lilith," Yorim finally said, looking at her in concern, "I never thought about it. . . But you are bursting at seams for the privy, isn’t it?" Lilith’s heart hammered in her chest. Yorim's words were a dagger, slicing through her pretense, laying her desperation bare. She was at her breaking point, the intensity of her desperation closing in on her. "How dare you, Yorim!" she tried to act strong, but her words came out more like a desperate whisper. Her survival now relied not on the swiftness of her words, but on the dwindling power of her control. She was ticking towards an inevitable explosion, precariously perched on the edge of disaster, teetering on the brink of absolute humiliation. Despite this, she still tried to maintain the charade with Yorim by holding him tightly by his neck. Her words were carefully chosen, her expressions painstakingly practiced. Yet, her voice carried an unmistakable tremor, her sentences breaking into stuttering fragments. The occasional quick glances towards the privy, the fidgeting, the clenching of her hands; all betrayed the fight she was putting up. Amidst the chaos, Yorim looked behind Lilith and yelled with all his might, slicing through her concentration. His words a thunderclap in her world. "The demoness is weak! Strike her. She needs to use the privy!" He yelled, pointing towards Lilith, his face contorted in both surprise and disgust. Before she could even comprehend the accusation, the chamber doors flew open to reveal the imposing figure of Donan. Anger and suspicion laced his words as he bellowed, charging toward Lilith with a vengeance. His fury was palpable, his intent clear: to free his son from her clutches. The room seemed to spin around her as he bore down on her, his fist coming at her in a blinding arc. With a grace born out of years of combat, she sidestepped, but the effort nearly shattered her control. Every move she made felt like a punch to her abdomen, her bladder crying out in distress. The mix of terror, shock and unbearable pain wreaked havoc on her hair-thin control. Donan’s second swing, however, found its target. The punch landed squarely on her midriff, right where her ballooned bladder was practically bursting at the seams. The impact of his punch combined with the bending of her corset metal acted like a tidal wave, smashing through her fortress of control. The world stood still for a horrifying moment as she felt the gates shatter, the dam breaking. Her muscles, already stretched beyond their limits, quivered. With one last effort she cast a spell to lock her muscles from blowing open the lake inside her. Her hands were brazenly shoved inside her crotch, skin glistened with sweat and legs crossed in a pretzel. Her head hung low in shame and face was scrunched up in the vain effort of holding pee, worth nearly a day. Lilith face turned blue with strain. If she exhaled she knew that the floodgates would open. It was only a matter of minutes. Lilith was cracking. Yorim and Donan watched her in awe as the villagers started gathering around her. Lilith cast a glance at them and tried her best to try a mind-control attempt. She painstakingly raised her left hand and tried to say a spell. Her cheeks were blown with the air she was holding, brows contorted. Sweat dripped from her forehead like rainwater and hands shook violently. “Looks like she wants to cast a spell on us,” Yorim whispered. “She knows if she opens her mouth, she will piss all over.” Donan taunted loudly. To add insult to the injury even Neyrell and the wanderer reached the spot. All her arch nemesis in one place. Lilith was trying everything in her power to somehow contain the gallon of piss boiling inside her. And that was it. Lilith in a fit of rage, opened her mouth to cast a spell. It was her undoing. Her last thread of control was decimated in that moment. Her efforts to retain the tidal wave within her ended in an instant, overwhelmed by the sheer force piss trying to come out. The seductive enchantress, the formidable sorceress, was finally defeated. Not by an adversary, not by a curse, but by the excruciating need that had been torturing her for nearly a day – her bladder. Her knees buckled, her body shuddered, and she lost the battle she had been valiantly fighting to win. It stated with a small trickle, a small stream and then stopped. Lilith looked up thinking that she had somehow stopped the outburst, but then another wave of piss came, powerful than ever before. A thick stream of piss erupted from her vagina despite the tightly wrapped underwear like cloth on her crotch. Litres of liquid, erupting from her like a dam . Her body finally succumbing to the pressure that had built up over the past 22 hours. She could barely stand as the force of her release almost knocked her off her feet. Her mind screaming in defeat, her dignity left in the debris of her shattered control. The sweet relief she had yearned for turned bitter in an instant, stolen away from the privacy she desperately sought. A hot, shaming wave washed over her as her body surrendered to its most basic need. It was an involuntary surrender, a release so profound that for a brief moment, she forgot everything else. The world around her went hazy, her vision blurring as her body went limp. Her desperate sobs were drowned in the cacophony of laughter that filled the room, the mocking echoes ricocheting off the stone walls. Yorim, once her prey, stood frozen in shock, while Donan roared in triumph, basking in her utter defeat. Lilith, the once proud and formidable enchantress, reduced to a spectacle of ridicule. The taste of humiliation was bitter in her mouth, a stark contrast to the relentless pressure that had finally been eased. Her legs were shaky, her entire body quaking from the undignified release and the laughter around her. The stream seemed to come to an end after a couple of minutes. Despite the throbbing humiliation, Lilith knew she couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity. Gathering her tattered dignity around her like a cloak, she forced herself to stand upright. Her cheeks were flaming, the memory of her embarrassing display etched into her mind. But she was a survivor, a fighter. With a defiant glare towards Donan, she wiped her eyes, the remnants of her tears leaving a streak across her flushed cheeks. The guffaws of laughter were beginning to ebb, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. She swallowed her shame, squaring her shoulders. "You think you've won?" she asked, her voice hoarse but unwavering. “I shall return and this time you will not be so lucky!” Yorim suddenly doubled over, pointing at Lilith, his laughter ringing clear and loud. Even Donan, stern and gruff as he was, was unable to suppress his chuckles. The villagers paused for a moment and then burst into laughter again. “The Daughter of Hatred just pissed herself like a little girl and she says she wants to end the eternal conflict!” Donan couldn’t hold herself back. "Lilith, the terror of the Sanctuary," Yorim managed to gasp out between fits of laughter, "the great demon, drenched in her own desperation!" In a moment’s notice, Lilith felt another devastating wave of desperation hit her. Before she could even grab herself, gallons of liquid still kept rushing out, cascading down her legs, unhindered and uncontrollably. It was as like a torrential river unleashed. Any semblance of her dignity seemed to drain away with the warm liquid that soaked her dress. Her dress clung to her like a second skin, the fabric heavy and drenched. Her legs were soaking wet, the liquid pooling at her feet. Word of Lilith's predicament spread like wildfire, igniting fits of laughter throughout the sanctuary. The mighty Lilith, once a figure of dread and awe, had been reduced to an object of mockery. Her reputation, so meticulously built over years, was now tainted by this one embarrassing incident. She was no longer the fierce, formidable demoness. She was now Lilith, the demon who wet herself. Her aura of control and absolute power was shattered. Every laugh, every whispered joke was a blow to her once intimidating image. Her reign in the sanctuary, it seemed, had been washed away in her own flood of desperation. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but the searing embarrassment only fuelled her determination, hardening her resolve. This battle may have been lost, but she had a war to win. And for that, she would need to gather all her strength, claw back her power, and chart the next course. The quest for the keys to Hell was far from over, and her story was still being written. - - - The End - - -
  2. Desperate Carmen Spurts in Slumber: It was raining heavily in the early hours of the morning. Water and splash noises filled the ambience. Carmen tossed and turned in her bed. Her pillow wet and sticky with her sweat. She threw away the blanket and let the cool breeze from the window soothe her. But her peaceful slumber was already replaced by familiar pangs in her bladder. She turned around to find a comfortable position to sleep but her need to pee intensified as the night progressed, slowly eroding the blissful depths of her sleep. Around 4 in the morning, a jolt ripped through her body, waking her up. Her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and stinging pressure in her crotch. Her hands immediately flew down to her crotch. Her tight undies were definitely wet. Not outright accident but a golf ball sized patch. Her bladder tried to expel her pee with all its might. Had she failed to wake up, she would have a soggy bed. “Every fucking morning”, Carmen muttered to herself, annoyed with the leakage. She begrudgingly glanced at the clock, realizing she had only a few precious hours left before her alarm rang. With a stubborn determination, she squeezed her eyes shut, resolute on lulling herself back into slumber. However, the persistent throbbing in her lower abdomen refused to relent, tormenting her with its insistent presence. The battle between her need for sleep and her desperate urge to pee kept growing. She lowered the waistband of her much tight undies and shover her hand inside to grab her womanhood. It didn’t reduce her discomfort but helped her to get through the night. Finally, morning arrived, bringing a glimmer of hope. She shot up from her bed, her eyes bloodshot, and her hair in disarray. She slowly laid her legs down on her velvet rug, toes curled throughout. Out of her long-formed habit, she first chugged the glass of water kept next to her. Each drop filling up her bladder like the lake beneath a waterfall. “Breathe in . . . Breathe out!”, she tried to steady herself before getting up from the bed. Alas! All her prep was in vain. Gravity pulled the weight of her bladder like a magnet pulls iron. She collapsed on her bed with a thud. “This is the worst I’ve needed to pee!”, Carmen barely realized she was rocking back and forth, allowing her muscles to get accustomed to the additional water. Carmen grabbed her mobile and put on the favourite 7AM radio to distract herself: “Welcome to your Zodiac Jockey! Next up is Libra – Hmmm . .” The bubbly RJ chattered in. “Your cards say that it is going to be a tough day for you. You will be yearning to do ‘something very important’ throughout the day but one way or the other you will not be able to do it.” Carmen giggled to herself, “Where do they get these cards from?”. Her bladder reminded her about its presence and once again, she stood up. On the way to the bathroom, her eyes fell on the mirror. She pursed her lips and checked her face while her legs, twisted and wobbled into a funny pee dance, as if they had a mind of their own. She had barely finished tying her hair, when her gates opened spurting a hot jet of piss, through her undies onto her legs. Had her bladder had a mouth it would yell at her, “Let me piss for god sake!” It simply wouldn’t have any more of her nonsense. Realizing the gravity of the situation, she darted to the bathroom downstairs, leaving a trail of pee drops behind her. The bathroom door slammed against the wall, as Carmen pushed it with brute force. The porcelain bowl was in front of her eyes, shining in all its glory. “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” She frantically approached the bowl, her body arched forward as if carrying the load of her bladder on her back. Her hand remained shoved in her undies as she landed her sweaty bum on the water closet. Whoosh! Erupted a loud thick force of piss through the fabric. Her body filled with goosebumps as the overnight pee finally escaped the confines of her overworked bladder. The fabric of her tight undies absorbed quite a lot of pee, passing on a strangely pleasurable sensation through her clit. As the level rose, the mix of water and pee, from the closet splashed against her butt making her shudder. Her moans of relief could be heard from miles away. Carmen was seeing starts in broad daylight. Barely 20 seconds passed since her floodgates opened, when suddenly, a shrill ring pierced the air. The doorbell! Her heart was in her mouth. She clasped her ears, trying to block the sound. She pulled in her stomach trying to pee faster, but she was already going on with full force. A few seconds later the bell started ringing non-stop. She took a deep breath and clenched her muscles tight, shutting off the flow. A strong back wave of desperation shook her body. As she stood up from the seat, her bladder furiously tried to expel the remaining liquid. As she hastily put on her robe, a few more spurts came out gushing. Summoning every ounce of self-control, Carmen mustered a strained smile and hastily wrapped herself in a robe, concealing her discomfort. She rushed to the front door, gritting her teeth, and praying for a swift interaction. Standing before Carmen was a courier, holding an envelope containing the long-awaited important document. Her bladder screamed in protest as she battled the urge to cross her legs. She attempted to maintain a composed facade, but her desperate need to pee tainted every strained word. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her body swaying ever so slightly as she battled the growing pressure within her. She prayed for the courier’s swift departure, knowing that relief was just a few agonizing steps away. Finally, the moment arrived. The courier bid her farewell, and Carmen slammed the door shut, no longer caring about pleasantries. But the ordeal was far from over. Her mobile buzzed loudly. Her eyes widened with horror reading the name “Bella, the bitch”. “Fuck!” Carmen cussed and as she slid her finger slid over the green button. The next half an hour was spent pacing in the room, hopping, and twisting. Sometime sitting on the couch and sometimes leaning against the kitchen counter. She fought valiantly with the waves of pee crashing against her bladder. Seeing no respite, her bladder finally accepted that it was not getting any more relief. The pressure subsided and Carmen could focus on the call. She unclenched her muscles and wiped off the sweat from her forehead. Around an hour later, the call was about to get wrapped up just when Bella sternly said, “DO NOT FORGET to bring that sales forecast document, otherwise you lose the contract!” “Relax Bella! I’m just 40 not an amnesiac.” Carmen tried to make the situation lighter. “Then behave like one!” Bella hung up the call. Daunting Dress Up Carmen’s bladder had calmed down, after having released half of her load and then getting some music from Bella. She had forgotten about the reminder of the pee still sloshing in her bladder. After a quick breakfast with a tall mug of coffee, she stood in front of her walk-in closet admiring her huge collection of luxury dresses and heels. Today she was determined to make a fashion statement at the office. “It’s time to teach those 25-year-old office bimbos a lesson in fashion!” Carmen mischievously grinned and chose a tight pant suit for the day. It was one of those sexier ones that hugged all her curves, a bit too tightly at times. She cast a glance at the mirror once again. Her belly was slightly bulging out over her undies. By no means was Carmen an unfit lady but today she was determined to unleash her inner diva. “Let’s go into the Kardashian mode today.” She immediately decided to pair her outfit with an extremely tight-fitting ribbed shapewear that promised to sculpt her figure into perfection. As she put her leg into the one-piece shapewear, a pesky sensation tugged at her bladder. Her bladder woke up again as-if taunting her. Carmen glanced at the bathroom door, considering a quick detour, but her fashion-forward ambitions took precedence. "Mind over Matter – Mind over Matter!" she convinced herself, determined not to let nature's call ruin her fashion game. With determination in her eyes, Carmen struggled to further shimmy into the shapewear. It clung to her body like a second skin, defying her efforts to wriggle it on. She hopped, twisted, and tugged, trying to find the perfect angle to squeeze herself into the fashionably constricting garment. As the shapewear finally found its place, Carmen caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The reflection revealed a silhouette that seemed airbrushed and flawless. Her boobs were pushed up, more than she bargained for, and a washboard flat belly. “Magazine perfect!” She couldn't help but strike a pose, admiring her hourglass figure and imagining the envious stares she would receive. But just as she basked in her newfound confidence, her bladder reminded her of its presence - again. The need to pee was pretty intense, transforming her triumphant moment into a comedic struggle. Carmen's eyes darted between the bathroom door and her stunning reflection, torn between comfort and vanity. "I can hold it in," she whispered to herself, squirming uncomfortably as she put on her pantsuit. She reassured herself that she was a grown-up who could endure a little discomfort for the sake of fashion. After all, fashion knew no bounds, not even the urge to relieve oneself. With renewed determination, Carmen straightened her posture, embracing her discomfort as a badge of honour. She sauntered out of the bedroom, high heels clicking on the floor, as she courageously chose fashion over the call of nature. Despite her struggles and the slowly increasing urgency within her, she remained steadfast in her pursuit of style, and embarked on her day, exuding confidence. Little did she know that her decision to ignore the pangs of her bladder was going to cost her dearly. Troublesome Traffic: It was already 9.30am! Carmen rushed to leave home, hoping to reach the office in time, she encountered an unexpected nightmare—morning traffic. The cars seemed to conspire against her, forming an impenetrable wall of metal and exhaust fumes. She sat in her tightly fitted business formals and uncomfortable heels, gripping the steering wheel with despair. She honked horn, swore at the passersby, but nothing seemed to ease up the situation. The pressure inside her bladder was growing slowly, matching the frustration building up in her mind. "Of all the days for traffic to be this awful," she muttered under her breath,“Why does this seatbelt have to dig into my bladder!” As the minutes ticked by, Carmen's thoughts became increasingly absurd and frantic. She tried to recall what all she drank since she woke up as she glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, “A glass of water and that coffee. Seems doable” She again convinced herself that her bladder was playing tricks on her mind. “I will go once I reach the office as always – you got this Carmen!” Though she couldn’t stop eyeing the surrounding cars, fantasizing about a mythical bathroom-on-wheels or a teleportation device that would whisk her away to the nearest restroom. In her mind, the traffic morphed into a game of wits and survival, with Carmen as the ultimate victor. She fantasized about manoeuvring her car with unparalleled skill, zigzagging through impossibly narrow gaps and leaving the gridlocked drivers gaping in awe. However, the reality was quite different as she inched forward at a snail's pace, her discomfort growing by the second. It was 10.15 already and she had not even shifted to the 2nd gear since. The honking of frustrated drivers around her only served to heighten her anxiety. She somehow felt, the others on the road were mocking her predicament with each blaring horn, startling her every now and then. She clenched her teeth, silently cursing her morning coffee and its diuretic properties. She even started contemplating various escape routes. She craned her neck out of the window, trying to find out what happened or may be find a secluded bush to sprint to. There was none. Disappointed with the learning, she took out her phone and hurriedly scrolled through the maze of icons. “The nearest convenience store is 2.8 miles away and will take around 40 minutes to reach” a voice came from her mobile. “Screw you map lady!” Carmen yelled at her phone stashing it in her handbag. Finally, the traffic finally started to ease up, Carmen could hardly believe her luck. She drove like a woman possessed, expertly manoeuvring through the remaining congested areas. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, she triumphantly arrived at the office, her bladder considerably full now. She parked her car, silently thanking it for enduring her squirms and desperate crossing of legs throughout the torturous journey. Her mind was now locked-in to the target of reaching the precious ladies wash-room for the sweet, sweet relief. Office over Output: The sound of Carmen’s pointed heels could be heard throughout the floor. As soon as she stepped in, heads started popping up from the cubicles, especially the young men. Hushed comments and lewd remarks started coming in. “Hey! It’s Carmen?”, said one guy. “Yeah bro! I never actually noticed her properly before!” Said the other. “I have got a tent in my pant. What happened to her over night?” One more guy whispered. “Jeez she is generally so demure and today suddenly she is giving these girls run for their money!” Another one added. Carmen pretended not to hear those lewd but flattering comments, but it gave a substantial boost to her confidence. Her pace increased as her eyes fell on the sign of the ladies room. “Carmen, I need you in the sales forecast meeting – NOW!”. Her boss appeared from thin air, or so she thought. “Boss, can you just give me 2 mins? I will quickly nip to the ladies and come.” “Is it urgent?” Her boss asked, arching her brows. Carmen was embarrassed at the comment and chose to follow her boss to the meeting room, which seemed like Antarctica. “Why is this chair so low?” She mumbled under her breath. “It’s broken”, one of her colleagues whispered to her and signalled her to pay attention to the presentation. Her knees were positioned higher than she liked, making her unable to cross her legs. The combination of this uncomfortable position, the full blast of the AC and the shapewear squeezing her bladder was a lethal combo for her. After every few minutes, she tried to tug and pull her shapewear way from her skin. But the silky shirt of hers made it impossible. She looked down at her tightly fitted business formals and realized just how uncomfortable she was. Not only were her clothes constricting, but also her seemed to pinch her with every movement. As the meeting began, Carmen tried her best to focus on the discussion, but her concentration was wavering. She had to shake her head to bring her focus to the slides from her filling bladder. She squirmed in her chair, shifting from one side to another, hoping to alleviate the pressure building up inside her. The seats felt more like torture devices, conspiring against her in her most vulnerable moment. She discreetly glanced around, hoping no one would notice her discomfort, but it felt as though everyone in the room could hear her bladder's cries for relief. “Carmen, if the chair is uncomfortable you are welcome to stand. Your chair is squeaking too much!” Her boss glared at her. She sheepishly smiled and stopped moving. It was close to noon now; the pressure was significant. She hadn’t moved an inch ever since her boss called out and her muscles were burning. In her mind, Carmen started having hilarious and desperate thoughts. She wondered if she could discreetly escape to the bathroom without anyone noticing. Imagining herself tiptoeing out of the room, she envisioned the sound of her heels echoing in the silence, drawing everyone's attention. The more she tried to concentrate on the meeting, the more her mind fixated on her dire need to pee. She started to question the universe, silently pleading for some mercy. But it was not her day. Just when she thought the day couldn’t get worse, her boss's voice boomed across the boardroom. “Carmen, why don’t you take walk us through the sales analysis of your region?” "Why then? Why me? Did I inadvertently offend a restroom deity?" she thought to herself. Misery visible in her eyes. Of all the times for her boss to call her, it had to be now. Her bladder throbbed with urgency, and the mere thought of standing up sent waves of discomfort through her body. But she couldn't refuse her boss's request, so she reluctantly stood up, trying her best to maintain a composed expression despite the pressure mounting inside her. As she made her way to the podium, every step felt like a tiny earthquake rattling her insides. She clenched her thighs together, desperately trying to hold back the torrent that threatened to burst forth. Each passing moment only made her predicament more dire, and she couldn't help but envision a comical scene of herself exploding like a balloon. On one hand, Carmen needed to focus on the presentation and impress her boss. On the other hand, her bladder was demanding attention, threatening to hijack her concentration. The presentation began, and Carmen's boss handed her the clicker to advance the slides. Each click of the button felt like a countdown to disaster. She clenched her teeth, her face contorting in a mixture of concentration and agony. She tried to focus on the words coming out of her mouth, but all she could think about was the ticking time bomb within her. During her presentation a few of the people left and returned, possibly after taking a bathroom break. “Damn! I envy these people!” Her mind drifted, and she imagined how good it would feel to take a nice relieving pee. Would she make a mad dash for the nearest exit, leaving her colleagues bewildered and traumatized? Or would she give in to the inevitable and create a spectacle that would be talked about in the office for years to come? Carmen snapped back to reality as her boss asked her a question. Panic surged through her veins, both from the pressure in her bladder and the fear of embarrassing herself in front of everyone. She turned her back to the audience pretending to look intently at the graph. Her face was contorted with the strain. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and turned to the audience. She stumbled over her words, but she didn’t give up. Slowly and steadily, she managed to formulate a coherent response while battling her body's urgent demands. Hearing it, her boss suddenly exclaimed, “That’s why she is the Country Sales head guys! Brilliant!” Everyone in the room clapped for her. Sound of each clap felt like slaps on her bladder. While externally Carmen was smiling and nodding, she silently cursed her boss for not offering her to sit yet. She rocked gently, seeking respite by transferring her weight from one foot to another, desperately hoping that a change in position would somehow alleviate the pressure. As the meeting continued, she clasped her legs together tightly, hoping to hold off the inevitable. In a futile attempt to distract herself, she even started mentally counting the ceiling tiles, trying to shift her focus away from her pressing urge. Her colleagues, oblivious to Carmen's internal struggle, carried on with the meeting, discussing important matters with utmost seriousness. “Damn! It’s 1pm already. I would have peed thrice by now.” Carmen’s thoughts became a jumble of desperation and amusement. Around 1.30pm, the meeting finally came to an end, Carmen's victory seemed within reach. But just as she prepared to make her escape, her boss extended the meeting by discussing an additional topic. Her heart sank again, feeling like it might burst alongside her bladder. In her mind, “I am bursting for the past two and a half hours bitch! Let me goo!” She was screamed in her mind and comically debated whether she should interrupt the meeting. She contemplated the potential though that the sales head cannot even contain her tiny bladder. Maintenance: Half hour later, the meeting finally concluded, Carmen bolted from the conference room, leaving her bewildered colleagues in her wake. She dashed towards the restroom, relieved to have survived the ordeal. Her desperation was reaching dangerously high levels as she raced towards the restroom, only to be greeted by a sign that read, "Bathroom closed for maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience!" She stared at the sign in disbelief, feeling her heart sink along with her bursting bladder. Thoughts of urgency raced through her mind, and she contemplated desperate measures like finding a potted plant or hiding in a supply closet. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tightness of her business formals squeezing her bladder even more. Her heels, seemingly mocking her, made each step agonizingly painful. She waddled around, trying to find someone who might know of an alternative restroom, but everyone she asked seemed oblivious to her predicament. The tension mounted as Carmen's need to pee turned into a dull ache. She clutched her lower abdomen, feeling like she was about to explode. Sweat beads formed on her forehead as she desperately searched for any solution, but none presented itself. In a last-ditch effort, Carmen spotted a janitor's cart nearby. Hope sparked in her eyes as she quickly approached it, but her hopes were dashed when she saw that it only contained cleaning supplies and not a spare bathroom key. Carmen frantically looked around the corridor, becoming more and more fidgety. Her attempts to conceal her discomfort becoming increasingly comical. She subtly squirmed, crossed her legs, and even tried to distract herself with work, but her mind remained fixated on the overwhelming need to relieve herself. In her desperation, Carmen contemplated absurd options, like using the employee kitchen sink or climbing out of a window for some much-needed relief. However, she knew deep down that these ideas were utterly impractical and would likely lead to even more embarrassing consequences. Finally, with a mix of frustration and resignation, Carmen accepted that there was nothing she could do in this situation. She took a deep breath, attempting to summon every ounce of willpower. The only good thing about the situation being her hot lunch served on her desk, which he devoured along with some sparkling water. “Don’t want to die out of her thirst”, she thought to herself and chugged at least half the bottle. Client office Chronicles: Reminder: Meeting with Bella at 3.30pm. A gasp escaped Carmen's lips as she stared at her mobile screen, her face contorting into an expression of shock. “Looks like I am an amnesiac after all!” She said to herself and dashed towards her car. Fortunately, there was no traffic on the road and arrived at Bella’s office, right at 3.15pm, feeling a heightened sense of urgency in her bladder. The discomfort amplified as she realized that wearing her tightest business formals and a pair of high heels was a mistake. Each step was like a mini-torture. As she walked into the office, Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes on her, wondering why she was walking a bit awkwardly. She tried her best to maintain her composure, but her face started turning shades of crimson as she clutched onto the reception desk for support, hoping no one would notice her desperate need to find a restroom. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she suddenly remembered that she had left the courier document back at her home. Her heart beating faster, and body filled with goosebumps. It was a critical choice for her, “Bathroom or file? What if Bella sees me without the file? What if I can’t hold it longer?” She was torn into two. Ultimately her responsibilities took over her call of nature. She sighed internally, mentally cursing her forgetfulness and the cruel twists of fate. As she lowered herself get into the car, her lady muscles quivered. “Not now!” She inhaled sharply and calculated the time it would take to drive back home, grab the file, and rush back to the client's office for her meeting. With a sigh of resignation, Carmen accepted the fact that there would be no time for bathroom breaks. The liquid she had consumed earlier in the day seemed to catch up with her at the most inconvenient moment. Her bladder felt heavy as if someone had kept a fishbowl inside her belly. Each movement of the pedals only added to her discomfort. "Okay, Carmen, just hold it together," she muttered to herself, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You can make it home and back without any accidents. Just focus!" But as she approached her neighbourhood, the pressure in her bladder intensified. Somehow her bladder had spatial awareness and tuned up the desperation further. Her mind was now consumed by thoughts of toilets and relief. Her attempts to clench her muscles and hold back the flood were tiring her out. She squirmed in her seat, shifting her weight from side to side, desperately seeking any semblance of comfort. "Please, traffic lights, turn green!" Carmen pleaded, her voice tinged with a sheer desperation and frustration. She knew that any delay would only make her predicament worse, and time seemed to taunt her as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she arrived at her house. With the engine still running, Carmen dashed towards the front door, fumbling with her keys in a frenzy. She tried to unlock the door with trembling hands, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. "Just a few more seconds," she muttered, her voice strained with urgency. "I can do this!" But just as Carmen managed to unlock the door, a cruel twist of fate struck. Her neighbour’s cat, notorious for its mischievous behaviour, darted out from nowhere, brushing against her legs. Startled, Carmen let out a yelp. "No, not now!" she cried. In a haste, she lifted the cat and rushed to the neighbour to return her. She lost a good couple of minutes, adding to her delay. Any hopes of a quick bathroom break was down the drain now. She could feel her bladder protesting with every passing second. With a mix of frustration and disbelief, Carmen grabbed the file in a split-second and rushed back to her car. Despite knowing that the meeting would be pretty long, and Bella kept her on toes, she had no choice but to drive straight to the client's office, bladder be damned. The thought of relieving herself at the client's restroom seemed simultaneously embarrassing. As she drove, Carmen's discomfort reached unimaginable levels. She squirmed in her seat, desperately trying to find a position that would provide even a momentary respite. Every traffic light seemed to conspire against her, forcing her to stop and wait, her bladder screaming in protest. "I can't believe this is happening!" Carmen exclaimed, half in exasperation. “Looks like the RJ was right!” Carmen imagined herself as a character in a slapstick comedy, desperately trying to reach the bathroom but encountering one comical obstacle after another. She chuckled at the ridiculousness of her situation, despite the discomfort that threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, Carmen arrived at the client's office, parking her car with a sense of both relief and trepidation. She stumbled out of the car, her steps unsteady and urgent, as if she were in a race against time. She rushed into the building longingly looking at the door of the ladies room. She bit her lips imagining the sweet relief so close and yet so far. Bella stood right in front of the ladies room, with her arms folded and feet tapping. Carmen profusely apologized but in vain. “If I tell Bella, I need to pee, she is surely going to fire me!” Once inside the meeting room, Bella’s hospitality was in full swing despite her anger. Carmen had a mixed feeling towards it. Every few minutes, they offered her a steaming cup of tea, insisting that it was their specialty and a crucial part of their business culture. Carmen forced herself to accept the tea, not wanting to offend Bella further, but with each sip, her desperation to use the bathroom grew stronger. She tried to listen attentively and contribute to the discussion, but her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of rushing to the bathroom. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to find a position that would ease the pressure building up inside her. Meanwhile, Bella continued to engage her in conversation, blissfully unaware of Carmen’s internal struggle. They were impressed by her ability to multitask and manage her discomfort, unaware that it wasn’t her remarkable skills but rather her dire need to find a restroom. She suppressed her discomfort, her face growing redder by the minute. She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, hoping for a miracle or a sudden interruption that would grant her a much-needed break. But luck seemed to be enjoying the cruel dance of irony that day. The meeting finally concluded at 6pm, and Carmen bid Bella farewell with a strained smile, hoping her awkward shuffle towards the door didn’t raise any suspicions. She rushed out, leaving behind her longing for relief and a trail of suppressed sighs. Through it all, Carmen’s determination to please the client and maintain professionalism prevailed. She had managed to secure the file, but at the cost of enduring an extended period of holding in her urge to pee, even though her bladder felt like a ticking time bomb. The ordeal was far from over but she bravely soldiered on, navigating the treacherous waters of business formals, high heels, forgotten files, and a cup of tea too many, in her quest for sweet bathroom relief. Return to office: Carmen sped to the office like no tomorrow. As she entered her workspace, her colleagues surprised her with a jubilant farewell celebration for a coworker. The office was buzzing with excitement, filled with laughter and cheerful conversations. Carmen forced a smile, joining in the festivities, all the while battling her internal crisis. She discreetly shuffled from one conversation to another, crossing her legs in a feeble attempt to contain the mounting pressure. Her mind was torn between socializing and the overwhelming need to find relief. She hoped for a lull in the festivities, a brief moment to escape to the bathroom, but the timing was never right. Her friends at the office noticed Carmen’s subtle discomfort but attributed it to her busy schedule and perhaps an intense work deadline. They couldn’t fathom the true nature of her predicament. Carmen, on the other hand, silently cursed the universe for putting her through this torturous ordeal. As time passed, the celebration continued with cake, drinks, and endless toasts. Carmen forced herself to participate, albeit with a forced gaiety that masked her internal agony. She maintained a constant mental countdown, calculating the minutes until she could finally seek the sanctuary of a restroom. Colleagues approached her with stories and inside jokes, unaware of the battle raging within her bladder. Carmen mustered all her strength to engage in conversations, her face contorting with effort to conceal her urgency. To make matters worse, a colleague insisted that the group played musical chairs. The crowd went into an uproar. Before she knew she was pushed into the circle by her colleagues. A chill went down her spine. Six inch high heels, an outfit. with vice like grip, and a threatening-to-explode bladder. The music began and people started hobbling around the chairs, pushing and pulling each other. In this commotion she took quite a few blows on her bladder. Each blow made her muscle tremble. Her piss was just a hair thread way away from gushing out. Her face was redder than a tomato and mind in overdrive. “Should I fake a sudden stomach ache? Or pretend to receive an urgent phone call?” Her heart was in her mouth but at the same time, she knew that any excuse would only draw attention - the last thing she wanted was to be the center of everyone’s concern. Just then an idea struck her mind. Carmen tottered towards a chair as soon as the music stopped and let it go just at the last moment. The crowd was having a blast, and no one cared that she was out of the game. She saw a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos and sneaked out of the hall determined to find the nearest bathroom without delay. But just as she was about to make her escape, a colleague stopped her, insisting on a group photo to commemorate the occasion. Carmen’s heart sank, and she felt the last shred of hope slip through her fingers. With a strained smile, she obliged, knowing that her freedom was being delayed yet again. With the photo session finally over, Carmen made a beeline for the ladies room, but it was still under maintenance. Not wasting another second, she hobbled towards the elevator, heels clicking against the floor, fighting against her body’s protestations. Each step was a test of her willpower, as she fought to maintain her dignity amidst the overwhelming urge to sprint. In the elevator, surrounded by the silent anticipation of reaching the ground floor, her discomfort reached its zenith. She closed her eyes, trying to distract herself from the turmoil within. The elevator seemed to move at a glacial pace, mocking her desperation. As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, Carmen took a deep breath and stepped out, believing that her salvation was within reach. In her mind, she wanted to run faster than Usain Bolt. But fate had one final twist in store for her. The parking bathroom was just a few steps away. She could hear the angels sing. Just 10 feet away from the door, a colleague intercepted her, excitedly sharing an anecdote that simply couldn’t wait. Carmen’s expression wavered between politeness and the anguish of her predicament. She strained to pay attention to the story, her mind screaming for release. Each passing moment felt like a cruel joke, as she nodded along while her bladder threatened to revolt against her. Her legs couldn’t keep still. “Please-please-please! Don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee!” She was pleading to her bladder. Finally, the story ended, and she seized the opportunity without a moment’s hesitation. But alas! The janitor had already locked the toilet while her colleague intruded her so-close-relief. She squatted on the ground, pulling her hair in despair. Her bladder throbbed with the anticipation of relief. It somehow couldn’t apprehend that a well-deserved break could be snatched so easily. It sent another strong wave towards her pee hold as if it was saying, “FIND ME ANOTHER ONE – NOW YOU PEASANT!”. Dinner with friends: Carmen allowed herself to stay still for a couple of minutes before approaching the car. The clock on her dashboard showed - 7PM. “Holy fuck! I can’t believe it’s been 12 hours without a break. I am seriously going to burst!” Her eyes were welled with tears. For the hundredth time of the day, she cursed herself for her choice of clothes. Each step she had taken throughout the day kept hitting her bladder like a boxer hits his rival. Just as she took the car out of the parking, her phone had buzzed. It was a call from one of her old friends, inviting her for an impromptu dinner. “Karla, that restaurant is 10 miles from my office. My home’s about 5 only. Can I just come after some time? I need to attend to something” Carmen tried her best to avoid the invitation. “Nope! Its final you are coming!” Her friend said and hung up the call. Her blood was boiling. She started slamming the steering wheel, causing the loud noise from her horn to reverberate throughout the empty parking lot. “WHY CAN’T I JUST REACH A FUCKING TOILET!” Carmen breathed through her mouth, eyes darting from one side of the parking to the other. Once she was sure there was no one around he hands immediately reached down the button of her tight pants. Without giving any second thought, she frantically unbuttoned her it. Within a split second, the zipper got pushed down automatically. She sighed in momentary relief as her bladder got some room to expand. With some newfound strength, she forced herself to drive through the peak city traffic. Her toes curled, each time she had to operate the pedals. Her calves felt as if someone was slitting them with knives. Torture was an understatement. After an hour of slogging, she finally reached the venue. It was upmarket, bustling restaurant which had a strict dress-code. For Carmen it meant buttoning up her tight pants again. “GOSH! I look pregnant!” She cried, struggling to pull the zipper up. A sharp pain ripped through her belly as she forcefully buttoned up her pants by sucking her belly inside. And yet, the evening had just begun. With one sharp breath, she stepped out of the car. Her back ached with the pressure pounding the insides of her bladder. The passersby looked at her with concern as she strutted towards the door with baby steps, with t was nothing. The second she stepped in the air conditioning hit her like a freight train, sending shivers down her spine and making her bladder ache even more. She fought back the urge to cross her legs and maintained an awkward smile as she approached the table, greeting and hugging them one by one. The strain on her bladder was inexplicable. Her body shuddered and it was her signal to make the move. “I reallllly need to tinkle, girls! I will be right back.” Carmen quickly excused herself and headed towards the bathroom. “She must be bursting, I mean, just look at the way her butt is clenched.” One of her friends commented. On the other hand, when Carmen reached the bathroom, a staff member approached her with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, ma'am," the member said, "someone had an unfortunate accident in there, and it's closed for cleaning at the moment." “Is there any other bathroom that I can use, please?” Carmen tried to steady her voice. Her lips trembled with every word pouring out of her mouth. “I’m sorry Ma’am! This is the only one.” Came the response. It took superhuman determination to keep her hands from jamming into her crotch. She mustered all her strength to just accept the devastating news and returned to the table. Her friends saw the anxiety in her eyes when she returned to the table. "My goodness, Carmen," one of her friends said, concerned. "You look like you're about to burst!" Carmen wasn’t able to hold back any longer. "I pee like 10 times a day and I haven’t gone in 13 hours today!" She confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. Her friends sympathized with her, their own bladders also feeling the strain. “Looks like there is no other option than enduring it!” Carmen said, her words ending in strain. “Girls always have to hold it, I guess!” The girls giggled and began with their 7-course meal. Usually upmarket restaurants liked to show off their delicacies and same was the case here. Every time a new dish was brought to the table, the waiter started to explain its ingredients, speciality, and history. Carmen was furiously tapping her feet. Her patience was running low and by the 4th dish, she lost her cool, “Can you please make this faster? Or may be not interrupt our dinner?” “Madam, our sincere apologies, but it is our duty to enchant our guests with the gastronomic delights, they are feasting on!” “You know what – NO TIP FOR YOU!” Carmen glared at him. The next few rounds were much quieter and faster. The girls thanked her as they slowly savoured the food. Bite after bite, sip after sip, Carmen’s body swayed and shifted. There was a point when sat on her heels, rocking. “Desperate times call for desperate measures!” She sheepishly chimed as the rest of the girls nodded. The conversation around become a blur as her thoughts were solely consumed by the relentless pressure in her lower abdomen. Finally, around 10pm, the dinner came to an end. Carmen bid her friends farewell one by one. The vein in her head threatened to pop as she hugged the last girl. With wobbly legs, she had headed towards her car, her need to pee reaching unprecedented levels. Holding her breath, she hopped into the car preparing to endure the journey back home with a bladder on the brink of explosion. Car breakdown: But there was more to come. Carmen's day seemed like a never-ending roller coaster of unfortunate events. As if she hadn’t suffered enough, her car suddenly stalled and came to a grinding halt. Clouds of smoke started coming from her hood. She shrieked in frustration, swearing some of the unholiest words. To top it off, it started to drizzle. She glanced at her watch. It read 10.30pm. “God please help me out!” Carmen burst into tears, jamming her hands into her crotch. Murphy’s Law went all guns blazing on her. Whatever could go wrong was going wrong with her. She reached for her phone and dialled the roadside assistance number, hoping for a quick resolution. “What do you mean it would take an hour? I can’t wait that long on this secluded road!” Carmen nearly deafened the person on the other side. Haplessly, she got back into the car, praying to her stars to help her out. Minutes felt like hours, as Carmen tried to maintain a composed exterior while internally battling the mounting tension. She started counting the raindrops on her windshield to distract herself, but it only reminded her of her the ball of pee looming to burst. She called the road assistance number again and to her utter dismay, the ETA kept getting pushed back due to one reason or the other. Carmen's desperation was reaching its peak, and she started contemplating the unthinkable: peeing behind a nearby bush. She had even spotted a squirrel looking at her curiously, as if sensing her predicament. But Carmen dismissed the idea as she looked down at her clothes, “Why Carmen why? Why did you put this shapewear today? It doesn’t have a fucking pee hole! I can’t take it off on a roadside! You’re just so dumb!”. She frantically looked around for any sign of a public restroom but found none. The splattering noise of the rain was driving her nuts. She folded her leg on the seat and sat on her heels, gently rubbing herself to keep the pressure at bay. Lines of stress were etched across her face. If there were any Olympic event called "Urgent Bladder Battle.", she would have secured a gold medal, she thought to herself. When the tow truck arrived, it was around midnight. Carmen had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she had been one step closer to salvation. But the tow truck driver was sluggish and insisted on engaging in a lively conversation about his favourite reality TV show, unaware of Carmen's dire situation. She desperately tried to maintain focus on the driver's words while simultaneously scanning her surroundings for any sign of a restroom. Carmen’s years of practice as a sales lead came handy when it came to mental juggling act, of balancing a conversation with her bodily needs, and her dwindling patience. Finally, the tow truck driver completed his monologue and proceeded to fix the car. As he opened the hood, Carmen hopped inside the car and shoved her hand in her crotch. Her legs were fanning vigorously, and face scrunched up with the efforts. All she could hear were the noises of metallic clanking and drills whirring. She bit her lips in anticipation. She imagined a glorious situation when the tow truck driver would come and tell her, “You’re all set Madam!” Instead, the man came and dropped a bomb on all her hopes. “Looks like the engine is seized. Will take a day or two to fix it. I will drop you to the nearest bus-stop.” Bus travel: Despite a million insistence the tow truck driver refused to drop her at home, directly. “Against the company rules” or so he said. Thus Carmen, at her absolute limits, pushed through the throngs of people to catch the last bus home. Half drenched in sweat and half in rainwater, squeezed between commuters, she could barely move, let alone find a comfortable position to ease her discomfort. The bus jerked and swayed with every turn, made the boulder of her bladder slosh. With every passing stop more people filled up the space squeezing Carmen tightly against the pole at the center. Her restricted movements intensified her desperation, and she tried to channel all her energy to her muscles down there, almost yelping in pain. She stood there, surrounded by people engrossed in their own world, silently praying that the bus ride would end quickly. Carmen's mind raced with thoughts of potential solutions, “Should I ask that guy to give up his seat?”, “Should I get down at the next stop?” Or “Maybe I could pretend to faint and hope that these bastards give me their seat!” Every time the bus halted, she contemplated jumping off and finding a nearby bush for some semblance of relief. But the fear of public embarrassment and potential legal consequences held her back. Instead, she clung to the pole in the center of the bus, her face contorted with the effort of holding it all in. The bus continued to move, seemingly oblivious to Carmen's internal struggle. She tried to distract herself by focusing on random details—the ads plastered on the bus walls, the sound of music leaking from someone's earphones—but the urgency of her situation kept creeping back into her thoughts. Occasionally, the bus hit a pothole or swerved sharply, causing Carmen to jolt, teetering precariously in her heels. She clung to the pole for dear life, silently cursing her choice of skyscraper heels and wishing she had chosen something more sensible. As the journey dragged on, Carmen found herself resorting to all sorts of mind tricks to distract herself from her bursting bladder. She counted the stops, repeated the multiplication tables in her head, and even tried to imagine herself on a beautiful sandy beach with crashing waves. She especially regretted the last one as her pee hole was hit with a massive vengeful wave from her overworked bladder. Finally, the bus reached Carmen's stop. The doors opened, and a rush of people pushed her towards the exit. She desperately tried to manoeuvre through the crowd to get down first. But her maddening pressure prevented her from moving fast. Luckily for her, she managed to get down just as the bus doors closed. Now all she had to do walk the last few blocks and the relief would be hers. Rainfall: Carmen’s happiness was short lived - the sky opened up again, drenching her in a torrential downpour. She cursed her luck as the rainwater instantly seeped through her tight business formals, clinging to her like a soggy second skin. The uncomfortable sensation made her feel miserable. Carmen frantically dug through her bag, searching for a spare umbrella that she never thought she would need. Instead, she discovered an old, forgotten candy wrapper and a pen that had leaked ink onto everything it touched. Her frustration grew as she realized her bag had become a disorganized jumble of useless items. Her high-heeled shoes now felt like torture devices, making each step a treacherous balancing act on the rain-slicked pavement. She squirmed and wobbled, trying to maintain her dignity while simultaneously battling her increasingly insistent bladder. The possibility of letting go was beyond tempting. She glanced around, searching for any form of shelter from the relentless rain. Desperate, she spotted a small awning near a café. Carmen quickened her pace, navigated through puddles, and dodged other pedestrians, her legs crossing and uncrossing in a desperate attempt to hold back the impending flood. Just as she reached the haven of the café's awning, a gust of wind swept through, causing the awning to shake and raindrops to find their way under the meager shelter. Carmen jumped to the side, avoiding the cascading water, but her momentary relief was short-lived. An unsuspecting pedestrian passing by accidentally splashed a wave of water from a nearby puddle, drenching Carmen once again. She let out a frustrated groan, feeling the pressure inside her rise with every sodden step. In a last-ditch effort, Carmen spotted a nearby park. Hope surged within her as she spotted the serenity of a public restroom. However, just as she arrived at the park's entrance, she noticed a sign reading, "Park closed due to maintenance." Her heart sank, and she contemplated the absurdity of her situation. Carmen trudged onward, rain still pouring mercilessly, her clothes clinging even tighter to her body. She was going through rapid breathing cycles – Inhale, hold, exhale. Her thoughts became increasingly delirious as she imagined the raindrops mocking her plight, forming tiny little caricatures of toilets, and laughter echoed in her mind. There were quite a few residential buildings in the block. “I can’t do this any more, I must ask for help!” She thought and started inching towards one of the blocks. Hardly a few feet away from the gate, a Rottweiler charged towards her. Scared for her life, Carmen sprinted in the opposite direction, her bladder being thrown into a frenzy of movements. With her spirits dampened (both literally and figuratively), Carmen continued her waterlogged journey home. “Walking on egg shells is easier than this”, she thought while balancing between containing the flood and the slippery ground. Key Conundrum: When Carmen approached the final turn towards her house, her need to relieve herself reached its peak. She decided to take the keys out in advance, to save precious seconds. She fumbled through her bag in a panic, desperately searching for her house keys. Her bladder behaved like an animal trying to free itself out of a cage. With trembling hands, she pulled out a keyring and was about to insert the key into the lock when, in a moment of sheer misfortune, it slipped from her grasp and plummeted into the open sewer drain by the roadside. Carmen's eyes widened in disbelief, “NOOOOOOOOO!”, She screamed. Her mind raced with frantic thoughts as she contemplated her options, all while doing her a frantic pee dance. She was now faced with the excruciating reality that she couldn't enter her own home until a locksmith arrived. When she took her phone out to dial a lock smith, it ran out of battery. “Damn you!” Carmen slammed the phone on the pavement. In a blink of an eye the screen shattered into a million pieces. Not wanting to expose herself to the pouring rain any longer, Carmen quickly sought refuge in her neighbour’s house. She rushed over, knocking on the door with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. Her legs tightly glued to each other, white knuckled fists on the side of her body and her lady muscles burning. It felt like she was not holding pee but molten lava inside her. The neighbour, a kind-hearted soul, opened the door and invited her in, oblivious to the frantic bathroom situation unfolding. Upon her request the neighbour called in for a locksmith. Neighbours Nicety: As Carmen stepped inside the neighbour's house, her eyes locked onto the bathroom door like a magnet drawn to its metallic allure. The door taunted her, its mere presence exacerbating her already torturous predicament. She fought the urge to sprint towards it, reminding herself that propriety and societal norms demanded she maintained a facade of composure. "Oh, the sweet relief that lay just beyond that door," Carmen thought, her mind consumed by the thought of finally releasing the torrent that threatened to burst forth from her bladder. But asking for the bathroom then, after already imposing on her neighbour’s hospitality, seemed like an impossible feat. How could she casually admit that she had been holding on for dear life? Carmen attempted to act nonchalant, the neighbour kindly offered her a cup of tea, unknowingly adding fuel to Carmen's internal struggle. She accepted with a gracious smile, all the while battling the primal urge to snatch the cup and chug it down like a parched traveller in a desert oasis. Each sip of the hot tea, once a comforting pleasure, now felt like a cruel joke. Every drop cascaded down her throat, further fuelling the ocean of liquid within her, causing her to squirm in her seat, desperately trying to maintain an illusion of normalcy. Carmen's mind became a battleground of conflicting desires. On one side, her manners and social graces, desperately trying to hold her composure. On the other, her unruly bodily functions, demanding urgent attention with an intensity that could no longer be ignored. She clutched the tea cup, her fingers trembling, her knuckles turning white. The neighbour carried on with casual conversation, oblivious to the epic struggle playing out within Carmen's body. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep her gaze from drifting back to the bathroom door, which seemed to mock her with each passing moment. Thoughts raced through Carmen's mind as she contemplated the absurdity of the situation. How did a simple act of nature turn into a Herculean trial? She internally debated the pros and cons of embarrassing herself versus maintaining a facade of poise. In the end, her dignity prevailed, and she stifled the urge to request a visit to the bathroom. As time inched forward, Carmen's discomfort became palpable. Her movements became more fidgety, her attempts at casual conversation punctuated by awkward pauses. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, as if her body was attempting to create its own rainstorm. To add to her horror, she noticed the neighbour’s mischievous kid engrossed in a comedy TV program. To her dismay, the main female lead in the show was also enduring a hilarious struggle, desperately needing to pee. The scene played out on the television screen, with the actress contorting her face in agony and ultimately succumbing to an unscripted accident, wetting herself to the uproarious laughter of the studio audience. The sight sent Carmen into a frenzy of mixed emotions. On one hand, she sympathized with the character's plight, knowing all too well the unbearable torment of a full bladder. On the other hand, the comedic timing couldn't be worse, as it only served to remind her of her own precarious situation. She was on the last reserves of her strength and it was a ‘Do or die’ moment. “Do you mind if I use your B-bathroom? I kinda need to d-dry myself...” Carmen slowly crossed her legs, proud of herself for coming up with such an excuse “Oh I understand. Wait I will get you a towel to dry yourself”, the neighbour misunderstood her request. “No, I mean, I really need to...” Before she child complete her request, the neighbour handed over the towel to her. Carmen blew up her only chance to relieve herself. If only she could swallow her pride and admit her eye wateringly intense need to release the lake inside her. Her thoughts were consumed by the pressing matter at hand, her bladder reaching a level of fullness that defied the laws of physics. She clenched her butt muscles, her core, held her breath and curled her toes – everything that she could do somehow just contain her pee. It was like the last few minutes of a dam which had been cracking. And then, the sound of a van pulling up outside announced the arrival of the locksmith—an hour later than expected. Her hopes of finding sweet release shot up again, and she found herself trapped in the maddening limbo between urgency and the risk of wetting herself if she tried to even part her legs. Her face contorted in a grotesque battle of warring expressions—a delicate dance of pain and desperation, disguised by a smile and polite conversation. Carmen's heart skipped a beat, her eyes flickering towards the door, but she quickly composed herself, determined not to appear rude or impolite. She profusely thanked the neighbour for her help and waddled towards her house. Drops of pee at her lips of her vagina. Her silhouette more like a pregnant lady. Her movement like someone in an earthquake. Her hope for salvation rested with the locksmith, a savior sent to free her from her bathroom-induced torment. She prayed silently, sending out a telepathic message urging the locksmith to work with the speed of a thousand cheetahs, for every second spent unlocking the door felt like an eons. The click-clacks of his tools were music to her ears, building an epic cinematic climax. Every time he kept one tool Carmen’s eyes would light up thinking that he is done, but then he will. Immediately pick another one. He worked diligently to open the door with Carmen's nearly climbing the wall in desperation. She fidgeted uncontrollably standing behind him. Every twitch of his finger reverberated through her body, heightening her anticipation while simultaneously torturing her with a prolonged wait. She stole glances at the bathroom door from the window, her longing intensifying with each passing moment. But the social constraints and her own pride prevented her from confessing her dire need to the locksmith or anyone else in the vicinity. She battled with her inner demons, mentally urging the locksmith to pick up the pace and grant her the sweet relief she so desperately craved. Finally, as if sensing her near-breaking point, the locksmith triumphantly completed his task, turning the lock and granting Carmen access to her long-awaited sanctuary. “OH YOU FUCKING GENIOUS OF A MAN! I COULD KISS YOU RIGHT NOW!” Carmen screamed with happiness, almost squatting down with her doubly crossed legs. The locksmith quizzically looked at her. She realized that she blurted out too much and tried to stand up quickly, teetering on the precipice of liberation. Every fibre in her body was screaming for release, yet she forced herself to remain composed, resisting the urge to rush towards the bathroom. With a mix of relief, frustration, and a hint of comic irony, Carmen politely thanked the locksmith, cleared his payment, mustering every ounce of strength to maintain her composure. She walked with measured steps, fighting against her body's demands, and closed the bathroom door behind her. Those were her final steps just like an injured protagonist inching towards his victory. Outburst: The clock chimed 2am. 19 hours and countless drinks later, Carmen finally reached her bathroom. The tantalizing relief was just within her grasp, yet her tightly-clinging business suit and eye-wateringly tight shapewear clung to her body like a stubborn second skin, refusing to yield to her desperate pleas for freedom. The pressure inside her had reached an unprecedented level. She could no longer stand on her own. All her energy was culminated to one and only one point in her body – her throbbing, burning pee hole. “H-how can it become so – so BIG!” Carmen shakily looked down at her bladder. With trembling hands, Carmen began the arduous task of removing her constricting attire, one agonizing piece at a time. She tugged and pulled, her face contorted. The clothes seemed to taunt her, clinging tenaciously as if they were designed by a mischievous fashion sadist. Her fingers slipped and slid, struggling against the unforgiving fabric that refused to yield. The buttons of her shirt, even though strained due to the tightness refused to budge. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, a testament to the physical and mental exertion she endured in her battle against her own wardrobe. Her breaths came in short gasps, each one a desperate plea for release. The struggle became a battle of wills as Carmen's determination to free herself clashed with the garments' stubborn resistance. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she fought against the unyielding fabric, her face a canvas of both determination and anguish. Time seemed to stretch infinitely as Carmen fought against her stubborn garments. She doubled over, clutching at her abdomen, her legs crossed tightly in a futile attempt to maintain control. She danced in place, her movements an awkward combination of desperation and discomfort, as if performing a private, agonizing ballet. Her toes curled and uncurled in rhythm with her internal struggle, a silent symphony of torment. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears of frustration and physical strain. The pressure within her reached an unbearable level, pushing her to the brink of collapse. 15 minutes passed and Carmen could only manage to get rid of her sweaty shirt. The tight pant still remained resolute. A fine layer of sweat made it stick to her skin. On the other hand, her bladder was bombarding her urethra like torpedoes. “Enough is enough!” Carmen screamed and cut away her trousers with a scissors and broke free of its demonic grip. Her tight shapewear, which now contained a lake of sweat in itself met the same fate as the trouser. Carmen managed to free herself from the clutches of her unforgiving attire. She stood before the mirror, breathless and dishevelled, her body shivering with an intensity of a seizure. As Carmen pulled away the torn layer of the shapewear away from her body, sweat accumulated inside it came splattering down on the floor. And that was the final nail in the coffin. That triggered millions of neurons in her brain to misfire and take it as a signal to release the flood. In a moment that felt both tragic and strangely therapeutic, her body surrendered to the unstoppable force within. She trembled uncontrollably, her legs no longer able to bear the weight of the pressure. She crossed them tightly, desperately trying to hold on, but it was a losing battle. She jammed her hands in her crotch and clasped them as tightly as she could. Nothing worked – nothing could stop the outburst any longer. Liters of pee tightly confined in her tiny bladder came out vengefully through the fabric of her undies, the gap between her fingers, gurgling down her milky thighs, now reddened with strain. The warm sensation of pee was comforting and arousing both at the same time. It was like a forbidden pleasure. The pressure of the torrent was so much that it passed vibrations though her clit, making her moan. Her face was awash with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming relief. Carmen finally succumbed to the inevitable and simply collapsed on the floor, her tired sphincter muscles, releasing the floodgates of pent-up tension. Her body, no longer able to contain the sheer force of nature, gave in to the merciless call of relief. The sound of her strong hiss filled the bathroom. A three feet wide puddle formed around her, emanating steam. It was a moment of both humiliation and liberation, a testament of her unshakeable willpower which made her fight with her bladder’s incessant demands, before yielding to the basic needs of the human body. A tear fell from her eyes and her lips trembled. There was a lump in her throat as she lay in her own puddle, defeated. “Next time, I won’t let my bladder win”, she whispered to herself. - - - The End - - -
  3. This is my usual method of urination when I am naked at home and badly need a wee as there are NO TOILET facilities in my apartment at all nor any public men's room nearby I can use. This leaves me without anywhere to relieve myself thus when my bladder becomes full I simply piss on the carpet instead. https://www.erome.com/a/LwZmLtZg
  4. A painter girl was in the last year of her professional training. Since a few days, she worked with three colleagues from her company in a large, new building. There was some other workers, like electricians, plumbers and more. There was only men, she was the only girl. Her superior was was a good looking, young man, just a few years older than she was. She worked in this apartment house since 4 days. They had to paint the walls, the doors and some more. On the fourth day afternoon, the girl asked, a little bit shy “ where do you go, if you have to go?” The guy did take her to the window and showed her some trees outside. One of the working men was pissing just at this moment at the tree. ”Where do you go?” wanted the man know. ”Nowhere!” answered the girl. ”You don’t wee all day long, you hold it from morning until evening?” he asked. ”Do you not need to go? he asked feige worried . His pants start to bulging out, just to think how long she did not pee and how full the girls bladder must be after that time. ”Sure i would need to go, today i am needing to go since before noon and now it is totally bad. That is why i asked you.” she said . „All the days before you did hold it until we were back at the company ?“ he wanted to know. “You must have a super strong bladder, i admire girls with a strong bladder“ he said. “ What will you do if you need to go so bad? It will last more then 3 hours until you can finally wee ?“ he wanted to know. She explained him that she had to get out from the overall to squat and pee and that she would be naked in front of all the men. So she can do nothing than to hold it! she said. The guy was total impressed from the girl, she was needing to wee really bad and was standing on a stepladder with her legs far apart. This girl was suddenly more than a colleague for him, she was a sexy girl who made him totally horny. It will be great to work with her day by day and her bladder full to burst, he thought to him self. “How are you?” he wanted to know one hour later. “ I need to wee really, really, really bad, I nearly do it in my panties “ she answered. ”Could it be that you like it to see me suffer and desperate, like that?” she wanted to know. The guy did not know what he should say, but then after a few minutes, he said “yes, i love it! It turns me on like crazy! You are so sexy when you need to wee so bad. Then he asked her if she would be not annoyed about that. The girl did always admire the young man and she did always dream from a date with him and now she was total happy, that she was sexy for him. She said that she would be happy that she don’t suffer for nothing, it will be good for her that he enjoy it. The guy asked her if she would go for a dinner with him. She agreed, she was happy it was like heaven for her. The guy said that he has only a big favor, she should not go to the toilet before, she should hold it for him, all through the dinner. The girl agreed, she would have done everything for this guy, she would let him burst her bladder, if he wanted that. They worked together and day for day, the girls bladder was swollen and overfilled every afternoons. She did know very well to make him horny, she opened her overall, pushed her panties down and let him show her swollen belly and let him feel her bulging, hard bladder. Nearly every second day she went home with him, with her bladder full to burst, she did hold it for him until late evening, until he fucked her long and hard. i would love to have a girl like that!!!
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