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Found 7 results

  1. Wet butt prank?..

    Hi Everyone, I've been wanting to start this topic for a while, you see in Denmark where i live, a big part of school bullying has always been what we call "buksevand" (direct translated to pants-water) which i the practise/prank where someone (often a girl) is forced to get a wet butt when a bully for example forces her to sit down in a rain puddle, fills a sink with water and forces the wictim to sit in it, empties a bottle of water down the victims pants or something like that... You get the idea (; The thought of has always been a great turn on for me... The thought of a girl being forced to sit in a sink full of cold water and has to spend the rest of the day wearing pants/panties wich a very wet butt that she has to sit on doing classes and so on! Is anyone else into this and does anyone know any english words that could help me find more about this out there on the internet?
  2. Dylan hugged his parents good-bye as the bus pulled into the station. He had had a good visit with them, but since he lived a three-hour bus ride away he was only able to see them about one weekend a month. He looked forward to his next visit, but he also looked forward to getting home to all the games that he hadn’t packed, not to mention the friends he had made since moving. He had packed light; everything he had needed to bring for the weekend had fit into a backpack, the same one he had used when he was in school. He didn’t bother to give it to the person loading the luggage compartment, opting instead to bring it onto the bus with him. After showing his ticket and boarding the bus, Dylan chose a row near the middle; he didn’t want to be the very last person to leave the bus, but he wanted to make sure that the frontmost seats were available for anyone who had trouble walking. He sat in the seat by the window, put his backpack under his seat, and watched the bus continue to fill up. Some of the passengers sat near the front, some near the back, and some not too far from Dylan himself. He noticed one extremely attractive woman with long, wavy caramel-coloured hair boarding the bus, wearing a backpack of her own. Dylan hoped she would sit somewhere in his field of vision, so he could glance at her once in a while to make the long bus ride pass more quickly. Dylan glanced frequently at the woman as she walked along the aisle. He couldn’t help smiling slightly as she got closer. When she was a few rows away, he directed his gaze elsewhere but continued to watch her from the corner of his eye. When she reached his row, she startled Dylan by looking straight at him. Dylan looked at her nervously, and she gestured to the seat the seat next to him and asked, “Is it okay if I sit here?” “Sure,” Dylan said, not believing his luck. “Thanks,” the woman said, taking off her backpack and sitting down. She unzipped her backpack, took out a bottle, and handed it to Dylan. “Want some lemonade?” she asked. “Sure,” Dylan said again, taking the bottle and opening it. He took a sip, then closed the bottle back up and handed it back to the woman as she zipped her backpack back up. “Keep it,” she said, not taking the bottle back. “I have others for myself.” Dylan opened the bottle back up, took another few sips, then closed it and put it into the netting on the back of the seat in front of him, while the woman put her backpack under her seat. “I’m April,” the woman said, extended her right hand. “Dylan,” Dylan said, shaking her hand. The bus started moving. Dylan looked out the window and saw that his parents were still there. He waved good-bye to them until they were out of sight. “Friends of yours?” April asked. “My parents,” Dylan answered. “I came to visit them for the weekend.” He retrieved the bottle of lemonade and took another sip before putting it back. “Did you enjoy seeing them?” April inquired. “Yes, I did,” Dylan replied. “It’ll be good to get home, though.” “I hear you,” April said. “Trips are fun, but carrying around luggage can make you a bit weary. I mean, I know you only came for the weekend, but you must have at least brought a change of clothes, right?” “Yeah, and even if I’d just brought my toothbrush that’s still more than I’d have to have on me at home.” “Do you come this way often?” “About once every three weeks.” They continued chatting as the bus made its way to the freeway and then picked up speed. Occasionally Dylan would glance out the window, but most of the time he was focused on April. This was better than he could have imagined. He didn’t have to steal sneaky glances at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice; she was actively encouraging him to look at her, to the point where she might be offended if he looked away for more than a moment. In fact, she was engaging with him; it seemed she had no end of questions to ask and stories to share and comparisons to make between their two lives. What was most surprising was that she was socializing so eagerly with someone she had never met before, and knew nothing about other than the fact that he was traveling. Dylan had always been under the impression that talking to strangers was an exercise that had to be undertaken with the utmost caution if at all, but far from being frightened, Dylan actually found April’s attitude quite refreshing. Dylan was grateful for the lemonade April had given him. It was a warm day, and, particularly with all the talking, Dylan found his throat drying out quite a bit. He took sips every few minutes while he chatted with April, but he was hardly aware of it; April herself held most of his attention. It had been a long time since Dylan had seen anyone as attractive as April, and the way she smiled and laughed and seemed to really like Dylan completely captivated him. He was actually surprised when he found that the bottle was empty. He couldn’t have finished it already, could he? He would have to remember to bring his own beverage the next time he went on a long bus trip. “I can take that,” April said, holding out her hand. He handed her the empty bottle and she put it back in her backpack. “Is it okay if I put my legs on your lap?” April asked. “I’m feeling a bit cramped.” “Sure,” Dylan said once again, and she did so, stretching her legs out all the way to the wall. This was beyond belief. The most beautiful woman Dylan had seen in three years was cuddling with him after knowing him for — Dylan looked at his watch — less than half an hour. April put her mouth close to Dylan’s ear and said softly, “I really like you.” Was she a prostitute? “You’d better watch it,” Dylan said, “or I’m going to think you’re a werewolf.” April leaned back and laughed, then told Dylan a story about one of April’s college classmates who had called April a werewolf. Dylan did not find this entirely reassuring, but eventually he decided that he could call for help if April attacked him. And if she picked his pocket he would have plenty of time to find her before the driver let her off the bus. He decided he would enjoy the situation while it lasted and worry later about any ulterior motives April might have. April started moving her legs in Dylan’s lap. When she was done with her story, she kissed Dylan on the cheek and asked, “Am I scaring you?” “A little bit,” Dylan admitted. “Do you want me to sit somewhere else?” She didn’t seem offended; she was still smiling pleasantly. Dylan was sure that he could have politely asked her to move and she would have done so without fuss. But the idea of her leaving almost made Dylan start crying. He suddenly no longer cared if she picked both his pockets and then stole his backpack for good measure. Nothing he had with him was worth more than the experience he was having right now. “No, stay,” he said fervently. “Thanks,” April said, smiling even more widely, and she put her arm over Dylan’s shoulders. “Tell me about the last party you went to,” she said. Dylan did so, and April continued to move her legs around, occasionally going so far as to rub Dylan’s penis with her thigh through his pants. When he was done with his story, April squeezed his shoulders with her arm, kissed him again, and then told a story of her own. Dylan never wanted this bus ride to end. When she was done with her story, April said, “I’m not a werewolf. But I did play a trick on you. I put something special in your lemonade. In a few seconds you’re really going to wish you were sitting in an aisle seat.” She smirked. Dylan looked at her uncertainly, trying to figure out what she meant. Then, out of nowhere, Dylan suddenly felt an unbelievably strong need to pee. He had to immediately grab his penis to keep from wetting himself. As he did this, April triumphantly shouted, “GOTCHA!” and started laughing hard. Dylan tried to stand up to get to the bathroom at the back of the bus, but April’s legs kept him pinned in his seat. “You’re staying right where you are,” April said, feeling the attempt. “I want to watch you struggle not to pee in your pants.” “April, move!” Dylan said insistently. “And give up my front row seat to this show? That’s not going to happen.” “April, I really have to go the bathroom.” “I know,” April said, still laughing. “That stuff hits really hard.” “Come on, April, this isn’t funny!” April laughed even harder. “Aww,” she teased. “Do you have to pee? Do you have to pee really, really bad? Do you feel like you might start peeing in your pants at any second if I don’t let you out?” “Yes! Come on, April, hurry up!” He was squeezing his penis tightly, desperately trying to keep control until he could get April to relent, but he could feel the pee pushing to get through, and he didn’t think he could hold on much longer. Clearly this was a game to April. How could he explain the reality of the problem in a way that April could understand? All of his attempts just seemed to amuse her more. Laughing did make April even more beautiful, though. And Dylan found her triumphant, mischievous laugh even more pleasing than her warm laugh of earlier. If the prank had been only mildly annoying like spraying Dylan with silly string he would have let it go and simply enjoyed April’s reaction. He would have made a face both to give her some satisfaction and to discourage her from doing it constantly (Could one face do both of those things?), but he wouldn’t have spent half an hour complaining about it. But what she had actually done created a serious issue for Dylan, and his enjoyment of April’s pleasure was much less than his desire to get out of the situation. April lifted Dylan’s shirt above his bellybutton and ran her fingers along the exposed skin. Dylan was starting to pant. April pressed a finger between Dylan’s bellybutton and waistband, making him gasp and press his thighs together to keep from peeing. Then April started tickling Dylan’s sides, making him laugh. He crossed his legs and tensed his thighs. “April, stop!” Dylan begged. “I really, really have to pee. Please let me out!” “I got you so good!” April gloated. “I love watching you squeeze your penis and hearing you beg me to let you go to the bathroom. It’s really amazing how well that lemonade works.” “I’m glad you’re having fun, April, but I really don’t know how much longer I can hold it. Could you please stop tickling me?” “Why, am I making it worse?” April teased, still tickling Dylan. “What if I talked about flowing water like rivers or waterfalls, or if I made sounds like ssssssss…” “What is wrong with you?” Dylan demanded. He was starting to rock back and forth while he continued to squeeze his penis tightly with his hand and to tense his thighs regularly. “Don’t you understand how badly I have to pee?” “Why don’t you tell me?” April suggested playfully. “Describe how it feels to be trapped in your seat, tickled, and teased after drinking my special lemonade.” “April, I’m panicking right now. I’m having trouble breathing. I’m starting to sweat, even though the air conditioning is on full blast. And it’s taking all of my strength to keep from peeing right here, in my pants, on the seat.” April stopped tickling Dylan, and she also stopped laughing. She slid a hand into her pants and started moving it around. “What are you doing?” Dylan asked incredulously. “I’m fingering myself. This is just too beautiful.” “What? April, let me out!” “Why? Are you about to wet yourself? Do you feel like, even squeezing as hard as you are, the pee is about to start flowing uncontrollably through the length of your penis and into your cute little pants?” Dylan felt a spurt of pee shoot through his penis into his underwear. He clamped down even harder with his hands, thighs, and internal muscles. “April,” he said desperately, “I just spurted. You have to let me out now!” April removed her legs from Dylan’s lap, then started rubbing herself harder. Dylan rose from the seat, hunching over because the overhead compartment prevented him from standing fully. He tried to get past April, but her legs were in the way. “I’m not letting you out yet,” April said. “I just didn’t want you damaging the seat.” Dylan felt another spurt escape his penis. “April, please!” he begged. “I spurted again. I can’t hold this any longer!” He was still squeezing himself frantically with his hand, and also moving his legs constantly, but he was sure that pretty soon it wouldn’t matter. April, still masturbating, watched Dylan with her lips slightly parted, then licked them. “You look so delicious,” she said breathily. Perhaps she was a werewolf after all. More spurts of pee made their way through Dylan’s frantic penis, despite all of his efforts to stop them. They were becoming longer and more frequent. It was becoming a broken but otherwise steady, and very embarrassing, flow into his pants. He looked down and saw a growing visible wet spot. “April,” he said, almost crying, “I’m wetting my pants. Why can’t you let me out?” April looked at the spot, open her mouth wider, then said, “Okay. All right. You can go.” She took her hand out of her pants and swung her legs into the aisle. Dylan made his way as quickly as he could past April’s seat, into the aisle, and toward the bathroom. He was peeing into his pants almost continuously now, even while clamping down as hard as he could with his hand. He was grateful that no one else on the bus said anything as he walked along the aisle. When he finally made it to the bathroom he closed the door as quickly as he could, opened the toilet, and wrestled his still-peeing penis through the flies of his underwear and pants. Then he completely stopped his failing efforts to hold and let the pee flow freely into the toilet. It felt amazing. When he was done, he flushed, closed the toilet, put himself back away, and looked down to see the damage. It was pretty bad. Not as bad as it could been, but fairly noticeable. Also, he could feel quite a bit of wetness, and he did not think it would make for a pleasant bus journey. He again felt like he might start crying. Dylan heard a knock at the door, and a familiar voice asked, “Are you done yet?” He opened the door a crack and saw April standing there holding his backpack in one hand and wearing her own. Defiantly, Dylan decided that he no reason to hide the wet spot from April, since it was her fault, and so he opened the door the rest of the way. April opened her mouth wide in an impressed expression. Dylan found that he wasn’t angry with April for ruining his trip. He was discouraged by the situation, but April herself was so enchanting that Dylan couldn’t resent anything that she did. In fact, at that moment he was ready, almost eager, to have her take on her wolf form and eat him. It would save him another two hours in wet pants, and if April really did find him delicious then Dylan thought she deserved the meal. He would consider it an honour to bring her the pleasure. What April actually did, though, was to close her mouth again and hold Dylan’s backpack out to him. “Do you have anything to change into?” she asked. “If not, I’ve got some men’s clothes that should fit you.” Dylan took his backpack from her. Yes! He could change into yesterday’s underwear (it wasn’t that dirty) and the shorts he’d brought in case it got too hot. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Yes, I do, thank you,” he said. “I’ll see you back at the seat,” April said. “If you still want to sit with me, that is. I certainly won’t take it personally if you don’t, and since I’m pretty sure all your stuff’s in the backpack, you can just go straight to whatever seat you like.” “Thanks again,” Dylan said, and closed and locked the door. Perhaps it was rude of him not to tell April whether he would continue to sit with her, but he was a bit anxious to get changed. Changing was rather difficult in that tiny room, but he was able to do it, and when he was done he put his peed-in pants and underwear into his backpack and walked back along the aisle to April’s seat. April had moved to the window seat. When he saw her, Dylan asked, “Am I still okay to sit with you?” April smiled brightly. “Absolutely!” she said, and gestured toward the aisle seat. “Please.” Dylan sat down, putting his backpack under his seat. When he straightened back up from doing this, April rose from her own seat, straddled Dylan, facing him, with her knees on the seat on either side of him, and kissed him passionately on the lips. Even with all of the difficulties he had endured, Dylan decided that he was having a very good day.
  3. What's up, ladies and gents of Omo.org? It's your boy, K.O., Kid_Omo. Here's another story with a few elements I've been wanting to use for a while. I decided to take a break from the RWBY fiction for a moment (no worries, chances are I'll return to that sooner rather than later). So, here's this story involving a prank I've heard about, taken to a terrible (or terrific, depending on what side you're on) extreme. _______________________________________ Jessie shook the huge cup which the move theater humbly called “medium” as she stood up. Where she expected to hear the sound of ice clashing against the sides, she only got silence. At the very least, this explained the sheer intensity of the dull pain in her waist. She wasn’t totally sure how two and a half hours of staring at a screen had caused her to drink the entire bucket of soda she had ordered. Of course, that was not what she was concerned over at the moment. Jessie leaned over slightly, placing a hand over her stomach. She let out a sharp exhale as gravity dealt an unexpected blow to her bladder. In the dim light and crowd of the theater, she would normally have used this opportunity to hold herself, but right now she was hanging out with Matt. It would be rather embarrassing if he saw her like that. He’d get a lot of mileage out of that sight. “You good?” Matt asked as he bounced up from his seat next to her. “Yeah, just… got up a little fast.” Jessie tried to cover. By the time they were at the end of their row, there was already a herd of people heading down the steps. This was one of the things Jessie hated about after-credits scenes. Jessie quickly found the first break in the crowd and cautiously followed the flow of people down the stairs. She tossed her empty cup in the trash can on her way out. Jessie crossed her arms, rubbing her upper arms anxiously as the people in front of her continued to move far too slowly, unaware of her urgency. Once she had room to breathe outside the theater doors, she checked to make sure Matt was still with her. “I should use the bathroom before we take off.” She said, trying to appear as calm as possible. Matt nodded and acknowledged her with an absent-minded “Ok.” Between trying to keep up her cool and composed exterior around Matt and the sheer volume of liquid contained in her body, Jessie was only able to muster a brisk walk as she moved down the hall toward the girls’ bathroom. About a minute later, Jessie walked back out of the bathroom to see Matt sitting on a bench checking his phone. “Well, that was fast.” He said, surprised. Jessie shook, arms still crossed over her stomach. “There was a really long line in there. I think it might be faster to just wait until we get home.” “Oh… alright.” Matt responded. He hit a few more buttons on his phone before putting it away, “Let’s go, then.” A chill ran through her as the cool night air made contact with Jessie’s skin. It felt like her bladder had swollen to the size of a volleyball- and nearly as solid. She really questioned her decision to leave the theater without peeing. Unfortunately, she remembered seeing the long line of girls in various states of apparent need. More importantly, she recalled hearing the loud, echoing sounds of liquid hitting liquid, which only made her own need worse. As much as walking hurt, she was sure to be back at Matt’s apartment in about five minutes. She could not say with certainty that the line would take any less time. Jessie let out another sharp exhale as she sat down in the passenger’s seat of Matt’s car. The sitting position compressed her bladder and forced it against the waistband of her jeans. Her face grew warmer as she thought for a second it might literally burst. She could feel some of the liquid start to squeeze its way out toward her opening. Jessie knew she couldn’t take this kind of pressure for long. As she buckled her seatbelt, Jessie subtly reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. She slid the zipper down with her right hand while buckling the seatbelt with her left, trying to cover the noise of the zipper with the click. Giving her bladder more room to expand did provide a little temporary relief, but she knew it wasn’t going to last much longer. They had to hurry and get back to Matt’s apartment, or there might be a mess. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Jessie braced herself for the ride home. She spread her feet, giving her more leverage to press her knees and thighs together. Never before had she been so glad not to have bought into the whole “thigh gap” craze. Apparently, all the pop she drank wasn’t quite done working its way through Jessie’s system, though. The desperation continued building faster than she realized. It seemed her bladder was eagerly trying to fill all the extra space she had given it. By the time they made the turn onto the highway, Jessie was looking for another method to help contain the flood. The internal pressure was mounting and she wasn’t too sure how much longer it would stay internal. Carefully, subtly, Jessie placed her hands on her lap. She tried to use her left hand to cover up as she slid her right hand between her thighs to apply pressure to her crotch. “Hey, are you alright? You’re being awfully quiet.” Matt suddenly broke the silence. Jessie could feel herself blushing. “Yeah, sorry, just a little distracted. I really need to use the bathroom.” She admitted. “Do you need me to pull over?” Matt asked. Jessie really hoped he was joking- not that she wouldn’t consider it at this moment. “No, it’s fine. Just… try to hurry up…” Jessie heard the car start to speed up a little more. Again, she felt herself grow more embarrassed. She didn’t mean to sound so desperate- not that she didn’t appreciate the help. She was thankful that this was one of the very few stretches of road in all of Illinois that wasn’t either bumpy as hell or under construction. It wasn’t long before they turned off the highway and onto the road toward Matt’s apartment. Unfortunately, the forces of the universe seemed to be conspiring against Jessie’s relief. On the road, the ended up stuck behind a bus and hitting several red lights. Even still, this only cost them a few extra minutes, hardly the worst part of the trip. No, the worst part was still yet to come. As they turned into the driveway to Matt’s apartment complex, Jessie remembered a truly horrifying fact: this driveway was infamous for its extremely rough speed bumps. It seemed like the owners not only wanted to prevent people from speeding down the driveway, they wanted to keep all but the most dedicated drivers from entering at all. Jessie braced herself as the car slowed to a crawl and the front end raised over the asphalt hill. As they went over it and the car touched down, Jessie let out an involuntary groan. The hand between her legs gripped down even tighter to try and keep anything from spilling out. “Just hold together, one more.” Matt said. Again, Jessie severely hoped he was joking. She really didn’t want him thinking of her like a little girl who couldn’t hold her pee. Even though, right now, she kind of felt like it. Jessie barely mustered out a feigned chuckle to try and make light of the situation. The second they passed over the second speed bump, though, that laugh turned into a sharp inhale. Jessie was not nearly as prepared for that one. She gripped down hard between her thighs, but even that could not prevent a small spurt from escaping, moistening her panties just slightly. After that, Jessie didn’t dare loosen her grip or try to move her hands. Only another couple minutes and she would be able to get the sweet relief she so desperately needed. As they parked, Jessie unbuckled her seatbelt before the car had even stopped moving. She had thrown open her door and started to bolt out of the vehicle before Matt had even shut off the engine. Upon standing, Jessie had to bend over again, throwing her butt out prominently as she wiggled her thighs. She again crossed her arms over her abdomen, as if minimizing her surface area would somehow help. She realized with equal parts amazement and horror that her jeans stayed in place. Even with them unbuttoned and unzipped, her abdomen had expanded enough to keep them held up without much assistance. Jessie realized right away that this was a good thing, as she wasn’t sure she could handle the added pressure of redoing the button. Now, there was just one obstacle left between her and the bathroom: stairs. This would be challenging, but she had made it this far, she couldn’t fail now, not when she was so close. Clenching her legs and steeling her resolve, Jessie took to the arduous task of climbing the stairs to the third floor of the apartment complex. She was forced to take one step at a time, stopping to bend over and rub her thighs every couple of steps. Thankfully, this gave Matt enough time to catch up, since he had the keys and was moving with far less urgency than Jessie. Miraculously, Jessie soon found herself at the door of Matt’s apartment with the same amount of pee inside her as when she was at the bottom- a thing she never before thought she would be thankful for. Jessie continued to tremble, her thighs restlessly crossing over top of one another, as Matt tried his key card. She groaned as the door refused to open the first time. The second attempt fared no better. Jessie could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead, what would she do if they couldn’t get into the apartment? Just then, after a third attempt, the lock clicked. Matt opened the door and Jessie pushed her way past him, moving as quickly as she could in her urgent state toward the bathroom on Matt’s side of the apartment. She completely ignored the fact that Matt’s roommates were sitting in the living room. She did not return their greetings, and she had no idea what they were saying as they started talking excitedly. Right as Jessie burst through the bathroom door, so, too, did her bladder. As she stopped to flip on the lights and shut the door, she felt a long, sustained leak begin to come out. As quickly as she could, Jessie reached her hand down inside her pants and grabbed down on her outer lips through her panties, trying hard to stem the flow. She cringed as she felt the wetness rub against her palm. Still, she managed to stop the leak before any noticeable damage was done to her jeans. Quivering all over, Jessie shuffled the few steps from the door to the toilet and swiftly yanked down her pants and her panties. She heard liquid splatter against the tile floor as she frantically turned and sat down, the pee already flowing out of her. She flopped down onto the toilet seat and started to relax her body. Jessie sighed in relief, leaning back to enjoy her victory, but she was quickly cut off. Something was very wrong here. She couldn’t hear the sound of liquid splashing. In fact, now that she had a second to process it, something felt wrong about the toilet seat. The moment this realization hit her, Jessie felt a wetness start to spread over her butt. The shock of this managed to give her the strength to cut off her steam for a moment as she jumped up and looked down at the toilet. What she saw was a small yellowish puddle resting on top of the toilet seat, floating over the bowl. Upon closer inspection, she realized there was plastic warp over the bowl! The cold sweat returned. This was an emergency. Jessie gripped down on her bare pussy so hard her knuckles turned white. She had cut off the flow for now, but that wouldn’t last for long. Her urethra started to burn from being cut off mid-evacuation. It was clear her body was about to strongly protest being stopped in the middle of relief. Jessie frantically looked around. There was another bathroom in the apartment, but, even if she could get her pants back up without wetting herself, there was no way she’d make it that far. The sink was too high up and far back for her to properly position herself without making a mess all over the counter. The shower was… That’s it, the shower! The shower would provide the prefect location for her to get her long-overdue release. The only problem was that Jessie didn’t exactly have the best aim with this type of stuff. If she tried to go in the shower with all her clothes on, there was no way she wouldn’t soak her pants, panties, and socks. No way was she facing Matt and his roommates like that. That meant there was only one solution she could think of: Jessie would have to undress. First, she used her writhing legs to her advantage. Jessie struggled and managed to slide her socks off with her feet. Thank goodness she was only wearing ankle socks. Jessie stepped out of her socks. Now was the hard part. She groaned as she started to lean over and grab her pants. As soon as she did, she felt another small spurt come out into her hand, causing her to stop and grip down with both hands until that wave of pressure passed. Slowly, with only one free hand, Jessie slid her jeans the rest of the way down her legs, followed by her now wet panties. In preparation for the next step, Jessie threw the shower curtain open before grabbing the waistband of her pants and underwear. As she leaned over, she felt a few more spurts coming out. The urine was now leaking between her fingers and getting onto her thighs. As fast as she could, Jessie stepped out of her clothes and hurried to the shower, using both her hands to brace herself as she climbed over the rim of the tub. The second her hands left her crotch, the dam finally burst. The stream resumed, completely unencumbered by anything. She heard more pee splash on the tile floor. There was nothing she could do to stop it. It was just damage control now. A few large steps had Jessie standing in the tub, pee flowing down her legs. Once she was sure of her footing, she squatted down and let go completely, trying to aim as close to the drain as possible. A powerful stream shot out of Jessie’s privates, arcing forward and colliding with the bottom of the tub before swirling down the drain. She could feel liquid still coating her bare legs and feet, both from drops straying from the stream and splashing back from the tub. Still, she had already gotten wet from earlier, what was a little more? As the sounds of her relief echoed off the bathroom walls, Jessie couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. It kind of hurt to feel her overworked bladder begin to contract back to its normal size, but the relief coming from her nether regions far outweighed that pain. Jessie relaxed and titled her head back, giving another hearty sigh. When she opened her eyes to look at the ceiling, her vision was blurry. Her eyes were actually watering from this feeling of pleasure. Gradually, her stream began to die down, the arc of urine beginning to fall closer and closer to her body. She pressed her bladder to force a few more spurts out before it dripped to a halt. The feeling of pleasure, however, had not subsided. Once Jessie was sure she had emptied herself, she looked around. There was still a small yellow puddle working its way down the drain. The insides of her legs and feet were shimmering from the layer of liquid covering them. There were a few pools of varying sizes reflecting the light on the bathroom floor, and the plastic wrap on the toilet was still covered in pee. Someone was going to have to clean that up, but it wasn’t going to be Jessie. This wasn’t her fault. First, Jessie knew she would have to clean herself up a little before facing anyone. She took off her shirt and unhooked her bra, carefully hanging them on the bar for the shower curtain. She didn’t want to risk throwing them on the floor or tracking even more pee around the bathroom floor. Then, she turned on the shower. First, Jessie pointed the stream of the shower toward the drain to wash away the standing liquid that was refusing to go down. Then she turned it on herself, trying her best to clean off her lower body. Still, something was weird. Jessie was pretty sure she got everything out of her system, but there was still a tingling feeling between her legs. The feeling was sort of familiar, but she hadn’t experienced it quite like this before. This was… confusing, to say the least. After her brief shower, Jessie dried herself off as much as she could and put her clothes back on. She left her panties aside, folding them up and placing them in a drawer she knew Matt didn’t use. She would have to retrieve those later. As she picked up her jeans, Jessie noticed there were a few odd wet spots all over them. Apparently she hadn’t managed to get them completely free of her stream. As she was getting her pants back on, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Jessie, are you alright? I heard the shower.” The voice was Matt. Quickly throwing her shirt on and zipping up her pants, Jessie cracked the door. “Yeah, I’m fine. One of your roommates needs to have their ass kicked, though.” She heard Jason laughing hysterically from the living room. “And he’s cleaning up the mess.” She added a little louder, hoping Jason could hear her. Matt looked at her curiously, but Jessie shook her head, “Don’t worry about it.” “Yeah, he knows it was a mistake.” Matt explained. Then, the shout came from the living room, “Better than I could have expected!” Jessie opened the door and stormed into the living room. Jason still refused to stop laughing as he met her eyes. A loud slap echoed as Jason was knocked out of his chair. “Worth it!” He shouted, rubbing the hand print on his face. With that business out of the way, Jessie quickly grabbed Matt by the arm and dragged him along as she walked toward the boy’s bedroom. “Now, you come with me, there’s something else we need to take care of right away.” “Wait, what?” He asked, confused. “No questions. Bedroom, now.”
  4. Chapter 1 David was sitting in the front row of the school bus taking him home from school. The seats were wide enough for two to fit comfortably, but no one was sitting next to David; most students preferred to sit near the back of the bus, where they could feel the bumps in the road more strongly. There were two girls sitting across the aisle from David: a blonde, sitting next to the aisle, and a brunette, sitting next to the window. Both were attractive, but so were a good many of David’s classmates. David alternated between watching the two girls and looking out his own window; there wasn't much else he could see from where he was sitting. About two-thirds of the way through the ride, while David was looking out the window, he heard a gasp and turned just in time to see the brunette plunge both hands tightly between her legs. The blonde was giggling. "I can't believe you would watersucker me in public!" the brunette exclaimed, quietly but clearly horrified. Watersucker? David thought, confused. He had never heard that term before. "We're almost home," the blonde replied. "Anyway, you got me while we were out hiking." "There was no one else around." "So it's the other people that bother you? The seat backs are too high for anyone to see you without standing up." The brunette looked around, then pointed at David. "He can see," she said. "All right, one person." "You know I'm going to get you back for this." "I'm sure you will," the blonde retorted. "In the meantime, though . . ." she started to tickle the brunette's sides. "Oh my god, stop. Stop. I have to pee." "That's the point." They stopped talking at that point. The blonde continued to giggle and tickle the brunette, who tried to squirm away from the blonde’s fingers while continuing to hold herself tightly with both hands. David, his mouth open slightly, could not take his eyes off of them. The brunette tried to glare angrily at the blonde a few times, but then she would crack up from the tickling, squeeze her vulva with the hands holding it, and then concentrate her efforts on trying to getting away from the tickling while, apparently, struggling not to wet her pants. After awhile she started squeezing herself repeatedly even while trying to avoid being tickled, and then she gave on the dodging attempts, crossed one leg over the other, and tensed her thighs briefly. David’s mouth had gone dry. He closed it and swallowed, then opened it again. “Aww,” the blonde started to tease, “do you have to go pee pee? Are you going to wet your pants like a little kid? Are you going to have an embarrassing accident on a crowded school bus?” She was smiling broadly. “I hate you,” the brunette said flatly. They were speaking quietly, presumably so as not to attract the attention of the entire school bus, but David was still able to hear what they said if he listened properly. The brunette tensed her thighs again. The bus stopped. David started; he had forgotten that he was on a moving vehicle. The blonde looked out the girls’ window and said, “Oh, here we are.” She turned to face the aisle and slowly slid out of the seat. As she slowly stood up, she looked at David. David half hoped, half dreaded that she would say something to him. She did not. She merely looked at him for a few moments, her expression showing nothing more than passing curiosity, and then turned and started walking toward the door to the bus, which the driver had opened. The brunette was now sitting at the edge of the seat that the girls had shared, her legs still crossed and her hands still between them. She, too, looked at David, and her expression showed exasperation, as well as the understandable panic of being about to pee in her pants. The exasperation, however, was not directed at David. She did say something to David: “I’m going to get her back for this.” The way she said it, David believed her, although he was still kind of confused about what was going on. The brunette then uncrossed her legs and slowly got up, still holding her vulva tightly. David suspected that her slowness was for an entirely different reason than that of the blonde. The two girls made their way out of the bus, the blonde still moving with what David assumed was deliberate slowness, the brunette pee pee dancing furiously and urging her companion to hurry up. Once they made it to the sidewalk, the blonde resumed tickling the brunette’s sides. The bus door closed and the bus started moving again. David watched the two girls out the window. The brunette was bent forward, her hands still between her legs, hobbling along the sidewalk, stopping frequently to squeeze her thighs together, while the blonde tailgated her and tickled her constantly. David continued to watch them until the bus turned a corner and they were out of sight. When David’s mother got home later that day, David asked her, “Mom, what does ‘watersucker’ mean?” His mother looked at him uncertainly. “Watersucker? Something that sucks up water?” That didn’t make sense. But David didn’t feel comfortable discussing the circumstances under which he had heard the term used, so he said, “Never mind,” and went back to doing his homework.
  5. Gotta kind of file this one under WTF. had a good laugh at this article, seems people out there are still falling for 4Chan pranks: http://www.infowars.com/pissforequality-feminists-fall-for-4chan-troll-campaign-by-peeing-themselves/
  6. I found this really funny to watch :P http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6WK-_LuNTA
  7. Hand in water Video's

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TJlEHi5qW0