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  1. So, this was actually written using several characters from a series of books that I write. In order to post it here, I have changed everyone’s names as well as a few key details. I want to ensure that my kink writing and my regular stuff are kept separated. But, I liked how this came out enough to post it. Many details are left vague since, on the off-chance someone here has read my books, I don’t want the connection to be made. For example, I can’t say here what exactly is being guarded without the story becoming recognizable to anyone that is familiar with my regular work. I apologize for the vagueness in parts of the story, but you guys are here for the desperation after all, so I hope it’s not too big of an issue. Gonna also include a trigger warning for mentions of physical and psychological child abuse. One of the characters here grew up in an abusive home and that background shapes the way he views himself as well as a lot of his behavior. I have color coded the areas that describe the abuse in purple, and the story can still be understood if you skip over those parts. There are also parts of this that are more humorous in nature. The book series this was initially based on is a dramady, and one of the characters tends to say rather silly things when he gets particularly emotional. I hope that it blends alright with the omo content. Kenneth hated standing guard. It was boring. It just went on and on for hours. Most of the time there wasn’t even really anything to guard against, so it was pointless anyway. He just had to stand there. Really stand there. He had to keep his back straight, his hands clasped behind himself, looking straight ahead. He could not move. He could not fidget. It was very difficult to keep oneself still for such a long stretch of time. His legs always began to tingle eventually, just beneath the surface, with pent up energy and an all-consuming want to move. But, if his superior saw him pace in place, he would receive a lecture, perhaps even some form of discipline. Today, Kenneth had already received a bit of discipline. And, it was because of that discipline that it had become even harder for him to keep his body still and rigid. Late to his post, his commander Bryce had instructed him to down a large jug filled with water. At first, the purpose of this had eluded him, but after a couple hours of standing in place with nothing to occupy his mind with, he knew exactly what the purpose of the jug had been. The water, which he had been forced to consume at a rapid pace, was now stretching the walls of his bladder mercilessly. Don’t squirm, don’t squirm, don’t squirm… He kept repeating to himself in a mantra. Not only was he not supposed to squirm, it was also terribly unbecoming and embarrassing for someone such as him to show a need for the toilet so openly. But, good God, did he ever need a toilet. Or a tree. Or a lake he could run into until the water covered him up to the waist and he could just— Stop. Stop thinking about that. He could not think about that now. He could hold this. He’d held it much, much longer before. And, he reminded himself, he couldn’t relieve himself on a tree or in a lake even if one magically materialized in front of him right now. He’d grown up with an abusive father hellbent on causing him pain and humiliation; One of the routine punishments was having his restroom privileges taken away when he really, really needed them. His father enjoyed making him beg and beg and beg until he was sobbing in a puddle of his shame. Upon wetting himself, there was always a further punishment in the form of a vicious beating for making a mess of the floor. Even when his father was ‘merciful’ and allowed him use of the toilet, his father would then stand directly behind him to ‘supervise’ as he attempted to relieve his bladder. Truthfully, this was just a bizarre, sick mind-game the man enacted on his child. Kenneth would oftentimes feel so intimidated by his father’s presence there that the pee would refuse to come out. After enough time had passed with Kenneth’s bladder stubbornly remaining clenched and full, he would receive a beating for wasting his father’s time. Generally, he would finally wet himself in the midst of the beating, provoking his father’s rage even more. These deranged games he’d been forced to grow up playing resulted in Kenneth developing quite the complex. The term ‘pee-shy’ did not even do justice to what exactly Kenneth was. It wasn’t merely that he preferred privacy, or got frozen up for a few seconds every now and then, it was a neurosis that left him out of his mind with the need to urinate multiple times a week. He could use one of the toilets that was located in his barrack. This one had a locking door, was far enough away from anyone else, and had a very loud sink beside it he could flick on and use to calm his nerves. That was the only place he could pee. Nowhere else. If he tried to relieve himself in any other location, he would find himself completely incapable. Several times, crazed with need, he’d even mashed the flat of his palm over his bladder in a last-ditch effort to force a stream out, but the only result this had ever given him was pain. So, he grit his teeth, and he held it until he could return to his barrack and his blessed privacy. Some days, he even got so desperate that when he looked down at himself, he would be startled by a painful round bump in the center of his normally flat abdomen. His bladder was so full to bursting that it was actually visible, yet it still would refuse to empty when he gave it the order to do so. There were occasional times when he would need to urinate while observed for one reason or another. This had not been easy for him initially, but then Dwight offered to be his observer. Dwight had been Kenneth’s best friend since the two of them were very young children. Dwight had known about Kenneth’s difficulties urinating since they were small; They had camped out in the woods once and Dwight noticed Kenneth obviously struggling to hold a full bladder. After many seconds of embarrassed stammering on Kenneth’s part and confusion on Dwight’s, Dwight finally figured out what Kenneth was describing and why he was so uncomfortable. So, he offered to stand beside Kenneth and keep watch for anyone else that could see him taking a leak. Kenneth had worried that he would be unable to go with Dwight so close, but he felt a deep trust for Dwight that he’d never been able to feel for another person before, and relief came to him quickly. To this day, Kenneth had little to no problems peeing in front of Dwight. He trusted him. So, if he needed to give a urine sample under observation, Dwight would be the one to join him. Now here, standing maddeningly still as his bladder throbbed and pounded beneath his belt, he wished Dwight were there with him. Dwight could take his spot here, cover for him while he made a mad dash back to the barrack, kicked open the door to the restroom and pissed out an ocean. His post here was quite a long way from his barrack, he realized… A very long walk… It would be hard to walk with the stiff legs he always got after staying still for too long. Harder still when he felt like there was a twenty pound bowling ball in his abdomen. A bowling ball that had begun to drip… He jumped, startled by the sensation of few, tiny drops of warmth seeping from his length and into his clothing. Now that he’d jumped once, he had to do it again! He bobbed up and down, fists clenched at his sides. His bladder thrashed around and tried to burst free, he pressed his thighs tighter and tighter together to keep anything else from leaki— “Paulson,” Bryce called sharply, addressing Kenneth by his last name. Kenneth jumped in surprise again. He’d forgotten where he was for a second there; his entire universe had shrunken to contain just his bladder and the liquid trying to flee from its confines. He’d been jiggling in place for at least a minute, and remembered now how that wasn’t allowed. He forced himself to still once more. As he did, another jet of urine spurted from his tip, and he looked down in a panic. Nothing showed on his uniform, thank goodness. And, it looked like his bladder had calmed down and stopped spasming for a moment. He could keep the rest in, he told himself. But… He was supposed to stay here until it got dark. There were hours left to go until then. And then there’d be the long walk back to the barrack. He’d have to actually get to the restroom once he was there, lift the lid of the toilet, get his clothing out of the way… He could make it! He could definitely make it! Now that a little had come out, that probably took the edge off, right? It must have, surely! Less than thirty seconds later he felt back on the edge of well and truly exploding again. He…Couldn’t make it. He would either wet himself here or do damage to his body if he didn’t empty his bladder soon. He had no choice. He was going to have to debase himself and request that Bryce relieve him of his position for a little while. Oh, he should not have thought the word ‘relieve’… He tried to quell the shudder that ripped through his bladder at that term, rocking back and forth on his heels in a way he hoped wasn’t too visible. This was going to be utterly embarrassing, Kenneth knew. He did not like calling attention to his needs. He preferred to have people think he just didn’t have any. Even admitting that he was sleepy would cause him to blush as he felt as though he was admitting to a weakness, a deep personal failing. No doubt his father’s abusive treatment of him had played a role in his feelings of shame. Nothing was more embarrassing to him than admitting he needed to pee. He could tell Dwight easily enough by now, but announcing to anybody else that his bladder was full made him go weak with humiliation. Kenneth liked to be in control of all things, and he often spoke in a pompous manner simply to mask all of the insecurity he really felt. A need to pee was not something he could control, and there was nothing he could do to conceal it after he’d been enduring it for long enough. Compounding this was the fact that Kenneth did not particularly like Bryce, and Bryce was none too fond of Kenneth either. They got along like water and oil most of the time and— Kenneth should really stop thinking about liquids! Nevertheless, there was nothing else to be done for it. Either he request a brief break to handle his need, or he risk drenching his uniform and probably everything in a fifty mile radius with the ungodly amounts of liquid he was keeping inside himself. The next time he saw Bryce glance his way, Kenneth beckoned him over. He prepared himself to speak, but the words “May I please have a break so I can pee?” died in his throat. That was just too embarrassing! “What is it?” Bryce demanded. “I… Um…” Kenneth stammered. He hated the timidness in his voice. The shaky twinges that he could normally hide behind an arrogant attitude. He did not have the strength to put on that attitude at the moment. He barely had the strength to keep the flood within him from soaking the ground below his feet. “I… I need to… I would like to request a short break, please?” “Why?” Kenneth had a suspicion that Bryce already knew precisely why. He’d been the one to force him to consume so much water, after all. Of course though, the bastard was going to force him to say it. Kenneth did not want to give him the satisfaction of debasing himself further. Asking for a break at all had been humiliating enough, he was not about to specify the reason. At least, not in such vulgar terms as; “Because I need to pee!” “Because…” Kenneth said instead. He felt his face heating, going red, and he hated it. “I… I need to… Um… Water the trees.” Bryce’s brow furrowed. He looked a tad confused, but Kenneth doubted it was genuine. “You… That is not part of your job, Paulson. The trees can manage themselves.” “I don’t mean—“ Kenneth said. “I mean— I have to… You know… I need to see a man about a horse.” “There are no horses here, Paulson.” He was fucking with him. He was definitely fucking with him. “That was not literal either,” Kenneth cried. God, his voice was squeaking, cracking with a distinct whine. It did not sound powerful like it was meant to at all! “I… The pressures of nature have become too much for me to bear,” he said. “I require a brief comfort break, I assure I will return—“ “God, could you sound more pretentious?” Bryce asked. “Speak like a normal person for once.” “I need to pee!” Kenneth snapped, feeling his anger boil over. As he spoke, he gave up all pretenses and began jiggling in place once more. He rocked back and forth on his feet. He crossed his legs together, he came dangerously close to literally holding himself. He only just managed to retain enough control to keep himself from doing something so disgusting and dirty. “Okay? I need to pee extremely badly! My teeth are floating and my eyes are turning yellow, alright? I need to go right now or else everyone near us is probably going to drown! Please, just let me?” Well… So much for not using ‘vulgar’ terms, then… But, at least he’d remembered to say ‘please’, anyway. That had to count for something, right? Bryce chuckled a little. “Ah, seems you still lack the ability to hold your emotions in check? That was quite a rude way to speak to your superior, wouldn’t you think?” “I apologize,” Kenneth said. His face felt like it was on fire almost. “I am under a great deal of pressure, I assure you after I’ve handled my need, I will—“ “Nope, you can’t hold your emotions in at all,” Bryce continued, as if Kenneth had not said anything. “I think you need a bit of a lesson on holding stuff in, wouldn’t you say?” “Bryce, I—“ “And, it certainly sounds like you’ve got a lot in you that really wants to come out.” Kenneth could barely pay attention to what Bryce was saying. All he could pay attention to was his bladder’s frantic cries to be emptied. “I think it would do you good to just keep all of that right where it is,” Bryce said. “You need to learn restraint, and this should really do the trick.” Kenneth at last realized what Bryce was talking about. He was not going to get that break, God how he needed it… “I guess it would be unfair of me to make you stay still when you are in such a state, though,” Bryce said. “Don’t worry about your position anymore.” Kenneth realized that Bryce just wanted to see him humiliate himself by pee-dancing like a little kid, but he didn’t care. Being allowed to squirm and writhe in place was a welcome mercy. Not as welcome as actually being able to pee would be, but at least he was able to do something now to keep his bladder in check. Bryce was, indeed, very amused by the way Kenneth moved about now that he’d been permitted to. His legs crossed this way and that. He jumped up and down. A few times Bryce noticed Kenneth’s hands going very, very close to his crotch before he yanked them back at the last second, hissing under his breath. He was trembling all over, practically vibrating with need. Bryce smiled, “That’s a cute dance you have there,” he said. Kenneth fought down the urge to give Bryce an extensive list of all the vicious wildlife creatures and poisonous plants he could go fornicate himself with. His bubbling anger seemed to want to burst out almost as much as his pee did. Holding both of these things back took such a concentrated effort that he felt buckets of sweat cascade down the nape of his neck. Good, he thought. Maybe some of the water won’t be heading to my bladder now. At one point, Kenneth literally went to his knees, and despite his valiant effort to hold onto his modesty, his hands did things unbidden and clasped themselves around his member. Christ! I’m going to piss myself in front of that bastard at this rate! “Hey,” Bryce said. “You still need to stand up. No kneeling.” Kenneth shot Bryce a glare, wishing with all his might he could turn him to a pile of ash just by looking at him but finding he lacked the mutant ability to do so. He gingerly crawled back onto his feet, losing a few spurts along the way, and tightening his grip on himself as a result. This was a losing battle, he knew. Bryce had no intention of giving him a break, and there was no way he’d make it to nightfall dry. He considered looking on the bright side, when he inevitably pissed himself in front of Bryce, that would be the first time he successfully peed in front of someone— other than Dwight— in decades. Maybe his shy bladder would get better? Or maybe the shock and humiliation of the moment would make it get even worse? Probably the second thing. He wasn’t sure how his shy bladder COULD get worse, honestly. Once he even got stage-fright because a tiny spider had been sitting on the toilet tank. He’d managed to convince himself it was staring at him and had been unable to pee until after he’d squished it. But still, once the spider was gone, he had peed in the end. That had felt really, really good. His bladder had loosened and his stream had poured thunderously into the water, draining away all the tension and— Stop! Stop it right now! Following his thoughts, his bladder had begun to squeeze, tiny droplets leaking from his tip. He pressed down against himself with his hands. He could feel tears beginning to spring to his eyes. He was so full of liquid, it was trying to escape from any place it could. He was going to have an accident, there was no way around it. Unless... Well, they were outside… “Can… Can I just turn around real quick and go here?” Kenneth asked. He didn’t know why he was bothering. Even if Bryce said yes, he didn’t know if his bladder would cooperate and actually empty. “Oh, but I thought you were shy?” Bryce asked in a teasing tone. Kenneth felt his face go redder. God, every time he thought it was impossible for him to feel more humiliated, something happened to prove him wrong. “I— A little, I guess.” “A little?” Bryce repeated, incredulous. “Remember when we went on that long march? You didn’t pee a drop then, and every time we stopped for a pee break you just stood off to the side mumbling to yourself with your dick in your hands. ‘Please, please, just let me!’” He laughed. “Most pathetic thing I’d ever seen.” “I’m not pathetic!” Kenneth protested. He was furious. His body was flashing hot and cold with equal parts of rage and humiliation. His bladder felt on the very edge of rupturing, tearing him apart from the inside. “I—“ “You can go here,” Bryce said. “But, I will be staying here to supervise you. And you have one minute to go.” Kenneth frowned at that. Even if he was able to start peeing, he didn’t think he’d be able to empty himself all the way in the span of a single minute. “Wha—“ “Your time starts now,” Bryce warned, before beginning to loudly count. Kenneth shuffled on his feet as he spun around, his hands tore at his belt, shaky fingers fumbling at the buttons and zip of his uniform. He pulled himself out and aimed between his feet. Please… He thought. Please, I need it so bad! Please! Nothing. He was so ridiculously on edge that it felt like his bladder had been plugged up with the world’s most powerful titanium cork. The tiny dribbles that had been leaking from him for the past half hour ceased. Not one drop of relief was able to force its way past his scared, stubborn little muscles. “Time’s up,” Bryce called. “Feel all better now?” He knew, of course, that Kenneth had failed to achieve release. Kenneth grumbled to himself as he stuffed himself back into his pants and re-affixed his buttons. He didn’t dare try to put his belt back together though. Now that it had stopped pressing on his bladder, he didn’t want to give it the opportunity to do so again. He turned back around to face his tormenter. Bryce put a finger to his chin. “I do not believe you are in uniform, Paulson. Put your belt back into its proper position.” “I can’t, I—“ “Now,” Bryce said firmly. “Or, do you want me to give you another jug of water?” Kenneth couldn’t fathom the idea of putting even one more drop of liquid into his extremely hydrated body. Begrudgingly, he fixed his belt’s clasps back together. It was squeezing against him now. His bladder felt like a watermelon ready to split open. His hands returned to press between his legs. More tears came to his eyes. His dignity had been worn down to absolutely nothing. Or, rather, almost nothing. The only little sliver of dignity he had left was the fact he had not yet wet his uniform. And he knew it was only a matter of time before that happened and, when it finally did, he would be worth nothing. He was crying from something more than pain now. “Aw, poor little—“ “Bryce!” A voice called. Kenneth looked up. That voice was like a choir of angels. It was Dwight. Perhaps, he could be saved. “Smith,” Bryce said, using Dwight’s last name. “What is it? I believe I told you to take inventory of our weapon supplies, did I not?” “I finished with that,” Dwight said. “I wanted to know if you needed me to do anyth—“ He noticed how Kenneth was moving around. A side effect of Kenneth’s shy-bladder was that he would do absolutely everything in his power not to make his need obvious. Generally, Dwight was the only person who could really tell when Kenneth needed to go because he knew his friend would chew on his knuckles when his bladder was giving him problems. But, now… A blind man could probably work out that Kenneth was bursting. Dwight hadn’t seen him dance so much since they were children. It was… alarming. Kenneth had always had a higher than average tolerance for pain and discomfort. Kenneth would still be walking around after sustaining an injury that would have left Dwight bedridden for at least a day. Whenever Kenneth cried out in pain, Dwight knew that whatever happened must have been bad. This now, Kenneth winding his legs against one another as both hands pressed against his crotch, could only mean Kenneth was holding back an ungodly amount of pee and that, had Dwight been in that situation, he would have wet himself ages ago. “Bryce, could I take over Kenneth’s position for a moment while he relieves himself?” Dwight asked. “I have nothing else I need to do.” Kenneth felt his entire body flame. He must have been blushing from head to toe. He hated that he’d allowed himself into such a state that Dwight could figure out he needed a toilet without needing to be told. But, he couldn’t allow himself to feel too upset. He was going to be allowed to— “No,” Bryce said. “Paulson must remain at his post.” “Bryce,” Dwight said. “How much use is he really going to be in his current position? He can hardly make for a good guard if he can barely walk and his hands are too pre-occupied to reach for any weaponry. You are being illogical.” Bryce was clearly trying to come up with an argument. But ‘I just want to see him humiliate himself because he annoys me’ was not a very good one. “Fine…” Bryce said. “You may trade places with him for now.” Dwight approached Kenneth, “Hey, Kenneth,” he said quietly. “Bryce says we can—“ Kenneth nodded quickly. He’d heard. He could go. He could finally go. He knew he needed to thank Dwight. Needed to get down on his knees and praise Dwight for being the single greatest person to ever live, but he was in such a rush and every last inch of his body was so full he couldn’t say anything. He just took off. Breaking into a run so suddenly, after hours of remaining in one location, had been a bad idea. A gush of piss wet the front of his uniform. He hoped it wasn’t visible. But, he did not have the time to check, nor could he move his hands away from his crotch for long enough to actually look. He didn’t feel any dampness against his palms though, which he hoped was a good sign. He realized a few seconds later just how far he was from his barrack. He… Could not run that far. Even now, his gait was slowing to a clumsy, limping hobble. It would take him half an hour to get to the barrack at the rate his bladder was forcing him to move. He couldn’t make it there in time. He glanced every which way for any potential place to relieve himself. He saw a mass of foliage not too far away. He could go there, right? He had to! He had no choice! It was either behind the brush, or in his pants. He knew which option he preferred. He took careful, ginger steps in that direction, feeling a few more dribbles of urine sliding from him as he moved. He wanted to run there, but if he tried to move too quickly again he would have an accident for sure. Finally, he was behind the cover of the brush. It was a lot of cover, at least. The bushes were high and concealed his short frame fairly adequately. And, there were a lot of them. He heard nothing but the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. He was as alone as he could get. Now, it was time for the next obstacle; his clothes. Stupid Bryce had made him put his stupid belt back on, and now he needed to move both of his hands to get it back apart. He shot his hands from his crotch to his belt as fast as he could, but a spurt escaped him the instant he did. He fought down the urge to place his hands back between his legs. If he held himself again, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d never get his clothing out of the way. He’d just stand there, holding himself, until his bladder gave out and he was left standing in a puddle. Another tiny leak trickled down his leg as he at last pulled his belt apart. Two more quickly followed as he fought with his buttons and zip. Finally, finally, finally, he pulled himself free and aimed. Nothing happened. GOD DAMMIT! PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! PLEASE! YOU DON’T HAVE TO HOLD IT ANYMORE! JUST PLEASE, PLEASE! IT HURTS! LET ME GO! I NEED TO! A few tiny drips fell from his tip, none of them granting him the relief he wanted so desperately. More liquid was falling from the corners of his eyes than was exiting his bloated bladder. His tears were no longer from humiliation, but from pure unadulterated, indescribable agony. Please… Please… You’re alone… Just… Let me… I can’t take it… He kept hearing his Father’s voice, he was assailed with memories of humiliation, pain, torment… His bladder shrieking in wild frenzy, his Father taunting and threatening him, finally being brought to a toilet only to be unable to let anything flow… The sickening feeling of liquid running down his legs and pooling below his feet, and the knowledge of the punishment that was sure to follow. The tears cascaded down Kenneth’s face freely now. He couldn’t take it. The memories, the pain, the all-consuming need to just let go, please, for the love of God! He needed Dwight here! Dwight could make him relax! Dwight could say things to him to make it all okay… But, if Dwight was here, then nobody could take his place standing guard, so he still wouldn’t be able to pee. He tried, instead, to imagine what Dwight would say to him had he been there. “It’s alright, Kenneth. Nobody will see. The bushes are all in the way. If anybody comes here, I will yell at them to leave. Just relax and take your time now.” He imagined the feeling of Dwight’s soft hand against his back. And, somehow, that was enough. The maddening drips transformed into a magnificent, relieving waterfall. He was peeing. There was a God. It felt like some sort of divine reward, to have come through such an awful trial and succeeded. He’d earned this. He’d earned this wondrous, all-consuming feeling of good in its purest sense. His bladder was deflating, slowly shrinking back to the size it was supposed to be. Liquid gushed from him like a firehose turned on full-blast. It felt so good. It felt so good. It felt so, so good… He felt his eyes starting to drift shut, his legs going so weak it took a concentrated effort not to fall over while his cock was still spraying out gallons of too-long held liquid. In spite of his desire not to do anything that could call a person’s attention this way, he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. His moan sounded almost perverse, and if anyone had managed to hear it they probably wouldn’t guess that peeing was the activity he was partaking in back there. “Ohhhhhhhhh, Goddddddddd...” His toes curled inside his boots, his body quivered and shook with unbelievable amounts of pleasure. The puddle was growing large. So large in fact that it was starting to hit his boots, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that. He couldn’t care about anything. His world had shrunk to one thing and one thing only; the sensations of release. It just kept coming and coming. He started to wonder if he was going to be peeing forever— And, truthfully he wasn’t sure if he’d even mind that too much— But, finally his stream dwindled down to a slightly less forceful gush, and after about half a minute more he was back to dribbling. He shook himself off and started to put his uniform back together. Now that the relief was over, he began to feel a bit mortified by what he’d done, and particularly by how loudly he’d realized he’d been moaning. He tried to put that behind him as he exited the brush. Still, there was no one in the surrounding area. Nobody would ever have to know, aside from him. He returned to where Dwight and Bryce were. Bryce rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as Kenneth approached. “Is Paulson feeling all better now?” Kenneth looked down, still feeling shameful. “Um, yes, Bryce. Much relieved. Thank you.” “Good. Now get back to your post.” Kenneth returned to where he was supposed to stand. “Thank you so, so much,” he whispered to Dwight. “You really saved me.” “Not a problem,” Dwight whispered back. He started to leave, then stopped. “Um…” He clasped a hand over his mouth, obviously regretting having spoken. “What’s wrong?” Kenneth asked. “Noth—Nothing,” Dwight stammered. Kenneth followed Dwight’s gaze for a second, glancing down at himself… And at the unmistakable line of wetness going down one of his pant-legs. “Ah, God—“ “Just… Just stand…” Dwight helped Kenneth into a position that mostly concealed that part of his leg. “Okay, try not to move too much until it gets dark.” Kenneth sighed. He hated standing still. But, at least stillness would be easier to achieve now than it had been earlier.
  2. Amity Blight has a shy bladder. Extremely shy, some would say. Well, if anyone else knew that, of course. She always did her best so no one would notice. Of course, living with Ed and Em, it was difficult to hide some secrets, which, in this case, wasn’t such a bad thing. Whenever they noticed Amity was in a tough situation because of her… issue, they tried their best to help - in their own way. Sometimes, when their parents called some friends to a long meeting in the Blight manor, the twins would notice their sister shaking, with her face paler than usual, trying to discreetly wipe the drops of sweat that wouldn’t stop forming in her forehead. And they would immediately understand the situation. That was when the twins would get into action with what they liked to call “the Mittens rescue mission” - although said mission had nothing to do with a rescue, but come on, the name was cool. The idea was simple; distract everyone in the room, so no one would notice Amity getting out of there. Usually, they would start telling some fun story about school in their exaggerated way that always made people around stop to listen - oh, how Amity envied this charm they have, although she was very grateful for that in those moments. So, she would discreetly look at everyone in the room, and when she was sure absolutely no one was paying attention to her, the young witch would slowly - too slow for her bladder’s liking - walk towards the bathroom, lock the door, turn the knob at least three times to be completely sure it was really locked, and finally, finally release the agonizing tension that all that liquid consumption had caused inside of her. Amity would never be able to express to her siblings how thankful she was for that help. Well, in fact, she would never be able to thank them at all, because just the thought of talking to anyone about her shyness was enough for her to feel extremely embarrassed. They didn’t seem to care about that, though. They never even talked about that after those meetings - which also made Amity feel very grateful. But being honest, Ed and Em had no idea how bad the youngest Blight’s shyness really was. They couldn’t know it was bad enough to make her wait everyday when she was at school - even if she had extra classes till the early evening. Or to make her need to get back to the hotel room earlier multiple times during their family trips - the twins always thought she just didn’t like traveling - sit in the toilet and wait, sometimes for more than ten minutes, because being in a toilet that wasn’t from her house, even if there was no one around to listen to her or to know what she was doing, was enough to make her bladder shut down completely. Or bad enough to, sometimes, force her to end her dates with her girlfriend sooner than they planned - and Titan, she couldn’t know what was the worst; the tormenting storm that was happening in her abdomen, or seeing that sad look in Luz’s eyes when the witch told her she had to go home earlier. But we will still get there. After all, everything started seven years before Amity met Luz.
  3. So I tried to pee at the side of the highway today, but I just couldn't get the stream to go. I don't know why, I just froze up. I think it's something to do with pee shyness and stage fright. When I am in the woods and feel like I have some privacy, I can usually get a stream going. But at the side of a busy road is more difficult. Has anyone else ever experienced this, and how do you overcome it?
  4. Starting my day drinking my regular coffee before heading to work. I started a new job at an office working data entry at a desk all day. Plenty of time to sit and stay hydrated for 8 whole hours. The days are long and boring so I sip my favorite tea to pass the time. I'm staring to feel pretty desperate but I'm not entirely sure where the closest bathroom is. I know there is one in the cafeteria but I'm scared I'll get in trouble going down there when it's not lunch time. It's fine, I can hold it until after work. Only a few more hours. By the end of the work day I'm bouncing in my office chair doing everything not to hold myself. I don't want my new coworkers to see me in such a state. I'll just go to the bathroom downstairs before I leave. I quickly logoff of my computer, crossing my legs so tight they feel numb. I walk out into the hall and press the elivator down button. It seems like it takes forever for it to open when it reality it was only a few second. Finally I think and jump into it. I sigh a bit as the doors close knowing I can press my fingers into my vagina. Nope, a hand grabs the door making them open back up. "Sorry!" A man says as he walks in "I'm doing down too." I smile and chuckle and clench my urethra shut. The ride down was agonizing. Please God I just need to pee, I cannot pee my pants at my new job! The door open on the ground floor and I scurry towards the bathroom. It was a small 2 stall bathroom with one sink. Thw worst sight I could see...a line. Everyone was getting off work and everyone was going pee before leaving. I hop in line, only 3 people ahead of me. My bladder is throbbing and I can't bite my lip any harder. I keep shifting my weight side to side. One person ahead of me now. The line behind me has grown too. At least 5 people waiting now. The person infront of me goes into an open stall. I'm so jealous. I want that relief SO bad. I hear her unbuckling her belt and then a gush of pee splash into the toilet. I feel my vagina burning with pain of holding in my pee. I wanted to be the one making the gushing noise. "Please fucking hurry" I think to myself forcing my eyes shut as tightly as they go. Finally an open stall. I walk in as inconspicuous as possible. I struggle to undo my belt and drop my pants. I slam my butt on the toilet and....nothing. fuck. I can't pee. I'm too bladder shy. "Come on. Come on." I close my eyes and try to pretend I'm at home. But the shuffle of people's feet and noise of people urinating is ruining that fantasy. "Please I have to pee. Please." I open my eyes and see people waiting in line through the crack in my stall. "Fuck. They are waiting and probably desperate too. I can't stay in here forever." I take a few deep breaths and really focus. A few hot dribbles of pee drip out of me and splash into the toilet. It's not enough. It doesn't even relieve the pressure. Someone knocks "you almost done? I really have to go" the voice says. I gasp "yeah" I say and pull my pants over my aching bladder and quivering vagina. I leave the bathroom and head to the car. "What the hell was that" I ask myself. I need to pee, why couldn't I pee. I can't make it home like this. I just can't. I make it to my car and fiddle with my keys "fuck" I cram my hand into my crotch and unlock the car door. Sitting down takes a little pressure off my bladder. I unbotton my pants and sigh. "I have got to get home." I start my car and head for home. Every stop light is a challenge. All the water and tea and coffee I drank from the day is slowly filling my already dying bladder. I feel my bladder stretching out to somehow make room for more pee. My urethra is in searing pain from holding it shut. A little dribble escapes. "Oh god" with one hand on the steering wheel I slip the other into my underwear. I slide my two fingers between my vagina lips that are wet with pee. I press them into my urethra to try and hold back the flow. "I can't! I need to pee" I pull my car over to a wooded area and run behind a bush. I yank and pants to my.ankles and squat down. The pressure my thighs is painful. I squat there for a few second...nothing. tears well up in my eyes. I focus all my energy on my aching abdomen. Finally a hot spurt of pee shoots out of me. Before I can sigh any relief it stops. "What no!" I focus again and get out a small trickle. "I'm wasting my time. I need MY bathroom." I get back into my car and finish my agonizing drive home. I run up to my door and jam the key in. The sight of home must have helped, I'm clenching my vagina and feel a small hot trickle slowly sliding down my leg. I swing the door open and run to the bathroom. I cross my legs infront of the toilet and unzip my pants. Before they are even fully pulled off my butt my urethra gives out. A bit torrent of pee is gushing into my pulled down pants. I sit on the toilet and lean back, listening to the sweet sound of splashing urine.
  5. From the album: AlphaHyoudou's Art

    Cynthia wants to get someone's attention, but she's so nervous she has a few "leaks"
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