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Hi everyone! I’ve always thought that a desperation story for Komi would fit well due to her shy personality and I think she is someone who would have a fair share of such experiences. This is my first fiction story, hence please be kind! I’m not sure whether anyone would read this story, but if this story is well-received, after the first arc is complete (i.e. the first day of school at Itan), I would like to develop this story into one where Tadano learns of Komi’s struggles with voicing her need to use the restroom on top of her existing struggles with communication and try to help her out. I’m also super open to other suggestions! It’ll also be quite a slow-burn story if you’d bear with me. Please also bear with me if some of the details such as dialogues that I may attempt to mirror aren’t super accurate, as I’ve watched the anime quite a while ago! ______________________________________ Context for non-Komi Can’t Communicate watchers: Komi Shouko (‘Komi’) is a female student who suffers from extreme social anxiety, but she really wants to make friends and form connections with her schoolmates. Komi is unable to talk at all and form sentences for most of the series, and instead communicates by writing on a notepad. Komi is also canonically extremely beautiful, which causes her to be treated very differently from others (people treat her as they do a goddess). However, she has grown up thinking that people treat her differently as they harboured dislike for her. Komi is also canonically very kind, innocent, and oftentimes oblivious to others’ intentions. Tadano Hitohito (‘Tadano’) is a male student who learns of Komi’s struggles and attempts to help her. He was unable to fit in with other students in his middle school and hence also looked forward to having a fresh start in a new school. He is also Komi’s main love interest in the series. The whole plot of the anime basically revolves around Komi, whom Tadano and a few other classmates try to help her make more friends, to fulfil her goal of making 100 friends. _____________________________________________ Chapter One When a person has extreme social anxiety, they struggle to communicate with others. Bear in mind, they only struggle to form connections. It doesn’t mean that they don’t want to. In the realm of teenage rites of passage, the first day of high school stands a formidable threshold. Itan Private High School was a new beginning for many of the students, those whom in particular were determined to have a reform of their previously not-so-ideal reputation back in middle school. Komi Shouko was one of them, and the day was not just the dawn of a new academic journey; but also a crucible where her crippling social anxiety would be put to the test. That day, Komi Shouko did not need an alarm clock to have waken her up. She had been up all night, tossing and turning, trying with all her might to sleep but failing miserably. Flashes of the many social interactions she would have drew into her mind, and she had been practicing how she would carry herself in every single one of them - for how would she know how to introduce herself to the class, or how to talk to her table partner? She prayed and hoped all night, that she would be able to utter even a word or two. As the rising sun cast its glowing rays in her room and the clock hit 6:30 am, Komi sluggishly, albeit still elegant and graceful, rose to prepare herself for school. She, more anxiously than usual, completed morning routine of brushing her teeth and showering, making sure she was fresh and presentable for her first day and to make a good first impression on her new schoolmates. She put on her undergarments, a matching pink set with embroidered kittens, and donned her school uniform which comprised of a navy blue blazer, a white buttoned-up blouse, a red ribbon at the collar, and a short red skirt for the very first time. Looking in the mirror and feeling a little self-conscious, she decided to also put on a pair of tights to cover up her bare thighs. ‘Much better,’ she thought, as she straightened her clothing one last time before grabbing her school briefcase and stepping out of her room for breakfast. “Shouko! Come, have breakfast! I made you rice balls and a coffee as you looked a little tired today. I bet you haven’t gotten much rest last night.” Komi’s mom, peppy and energetic as ever, voiced. Eternally grateful for her motherly instincts that always met her needs without having to voice them out, and just a little jealous of how she was able to so easily communicate, something she just could not do no matter how hard she tried. She drank up the coffee (even got seconds!) and ate the rice balls heartily, then put on her black dress shoes and left for school. With every step, her heart pumped faster and faster. She envisioned completely humiliating herself in front of everyone, and her fear of social interaction crashing into her in waves. Suddenly, a discomfort in her abdomen had distracted her from her thoughts. To her horror, she realised that she had completely forgotten to use the toilet while getting ready for lessons, and before leaving the house. Komi was faced with a huge dilemma - for if she turned back now to use the toilet at home, she would most definitely be late to class. A horrible impression on teachers and classmates alike! That was out of the question. But, she did really have to go. It was a sudden crash of desperation, a realisation that she had nine hour’s and two cups of diuretics’ worth of pee contained inside her then. While her bladder had been trained to hold for extended periods of time as she had always been too shy to ask to use the restroom, for it not only forced her to speak up in class to ask for permission, but also quite literally caused her to announce her need to pee to everyone in class. That was also out of the question. Not only that, she was also extremely pee-shy and couldn’t pee when others were in sight or within earshot; for it would be deathly if anyone knew that she was performing a bodily function. Fifteen minutes to reporting time. She knew of an alleyway that almost nobody ever used… she could pee there guilt-free since no one would have to clean her mess up, and no one was likely to see her. Gripping at the hem of her skirt, she had no idea what to do. This had never happened to her before, she had always made sure to use the restroom before she left the house and whenever she could, as well as monitor her liquid intake. The first-day jitters had brought her this inevitable fate. ‘I can’t risk having to go in class. I’ll just do it quick, and no one will know,’ she reasoned. Giving herself an encouraging ‘pomph!’, she slipped into the empty alleyway. Hands shaking, she placed her briefcase on the ground far away, far from possible range of her mess, and did a half-squat, resting her back against the wall. Trembling, she lifted her skirt ever-so-slightly with one hand and parted her underwear aside with the other. Seconds passed, then a minute. She couldn’t pee. She’d never done this - peeing in public. It’s no wonder she couldn’t force so much as a stream despite her aching and taut bladder when she could hardly do it in a public cubicle. “Shouko.. please. Just do it, no one’s watching you. Don’t let this mess up your first day,” she gave a rare whisper to herself, begging her bladder for release. Pushing with all her might, she finally felt her muscles relaxing to give way to the litres of urine thrashing against her urethra. Finally, a small stream of yellow pee shot out of her, and just as she was about to let go, she heard a voice approaching. “Hi, my name is Tadano Hitohito. An interesting fact about me is that I’m really good at reading the room. Okay, that should allow me to fit in well enough,” the approaching male voice resounded. Komi immediately pulled her underwear back while trying to stem her flow, resulting in a small wet spot in her underwear. She hid deeper in the alley and tried to wait for the voice to pass, desperately rubbing her thighs together. She couldn’t pee here anymore, not after almost getting caught! After three agonising minutes of bouncing and gripping the hem of her red skirt, when she was sure he would have passed, Komi then made her way to school while trying to keep her regular poised and stoic demeanour. There was no other choice; Komi would have to deal with her urgent pressing need in school.

Chloe had always had a stoic confidence about her. The 26-year-old PHD student had excelled academically, and was beyond proud of her PHD placement at one of the UK’s top universities. Although her toned and athletic body, modest yet perky breasts, and striking red hair meant she’d never had any issues attracting plenty of male (and the occasional female) suitors, aside from the odd one-night stand to satisfy a primal urge, she found her strongest fulfilments came from her studies. Rarely wanting for a romantic partner, she was content with her modest social life. She was well liked without being popular; never aggressive, although you knew not to mess with her. If Chloe was to be summed up in a word, it would be ‘determined’. She was always willing to take on the hardest academic challenges or push through the pain barrier to smash her 5K PB. She relished the rush of achieving her end goal despite the difficulty of the challenge before her. But one mild evening in late April, Chloe did not feel that familiar excitement around her current challenge. She was consumed by an acute apprehension, one that she feared was not all that far away from sheer panic. Her heart was racing, her brow was furrowed in effort, and her knees were locked together. She hadn’t paid attention to the detailed ramblings of her Modernism lecturer at the front of the class for some time now, as her mind was preoccupied with one, solitary thought. Fuck. I really. Really. Need to pee. The feeling of a full bladder was not one that was foreign to Chloe; getting lost in late night library sessions exploring 18th century gothic literature often led her to forget about her bodily needs until they became more pressing. The difference with those situations, however, is that her study time was exactly that - hers. She was comfortable waiting until a late dash was necessary when the only person’s time she was wasting was her own; but in front of a room full of class mates, plus her wispy-haired and kind hearted senior professor? That was totally out of the question. This decision to remain seated was compounded by her fierce competitiveness; there was no way, with just 10 minutes left of the lecture, that she was going to display her weakness so obtusely. She brushed her hair out of her eyes to continue to steal glances at the old analogue clock on the wall, the metronomic ticking being the only thing she could focus on. She stared longingly at the now-empty bottle of water sat on her desk, cursing her lack of foresight. She hadn’t considered that the rising temperatures of that spring afternoon had caused her to drink more than she normally would, and she was now feeling the disastrous consequences that had on her bladder. She had no choice but to steel herself for the home stretch of this lecture. The sound of the clock became almost hypnotic. Her newfound trance-like state produced an emotional numbness, which was a pleasant relief from the very real discomfort she could feel building within her. This was only temporary though, until she was jarringly reminded of her surroundings. “Chloe, what did you make of this passage?” The sudden pressure to respond to the swathes of eyes now facing her made her jump and involuntarily squeeze her thighs together. Doing her utmost to keep her voice steady, she mumbled a vague answer about modernism and the transience of capitalist life, and was relieved to see her lecturer give a curt nod before carrying on with her monologue. She breathed an internal sigh of relief as she snatched a glance at the clock, now suddenly hyper aware of her now very desperate need. 3 minutes. I can do this. She willed to herself, ignoring the growing self-doubt she had in her own affirmation. She knew her dorm was only a short 5-minute walk across the campus. Once she was there she was home and dry. Well, she knew she’d eventually make it home, but truth be told she didn’t have 100% confidence in the latter part of her statement. Her need now had risen to well beyond the point of any of her squirmy library sessions. The bulge of her bladder was cutting into the waistband of her skirt. Her untucking of her tight buttoned shirt had done little to ease the near-unbearable pressure within her. It was almost like she could feel her urethra beginning to be filled before stoic clenching helped her regain a modicum of safety. Her hands were resting on her locked knees, often twitching to grab between her legs before the rational side of her chastised her for even suggesting such a move in public. Seeking a pragmatic solution, as she always would, she decided to make a start on packing her tote bag before the lecture finished. She made every movement as deliberate and considered as possible to avoid any unnecessary stress to her lower abdomen. This method was a success, until a wayward elbow nearly knocked her heavy anthology book off the desk. Instinctively, she lurched over to grab the dropping book, not realising the consequences this would have. A single, solitary drop of piss begin travelling down her urethra, and leaked through her tightly clenched lips, staining her red panties. Audibly gasping, Chloe had no choice but to bury her painted fingers tightly into her crotch. Along with the relief that she had suppressed that first leak and the shame that she had displayed this first act of public weakness, she was greeted with the last sensation she expected to feel in this moment—a jolt of electricity that shot up her clit. Having bowed her head and clenched her eyes shut in effort to hold onto the rogue spurt, Chloe sat in bewilderment at this sensation. Quickly snapping back to reality, she opened her eyes and hurriedly scanned to see if her first slip in composure had been noticed by anyone. Luckily, her seat at the back of the theater meant all eyes were on the lecturer, who was now concluding her talks. Her relative privacy gave her a second to compose herself. You didn’t enjoy it. You’re not turned on right now. Don’t be stupid, Chlo. You’re just…confused. Panicked and confused She struggled to pick out her internal dialogue amongst the rising levels of anxiety growing in her mind. In a time where she desperately needed her body and mind to work in unison, the novel emotional dilemma she was experiencing was the last thing she needed if she was going to make it home dry-ish. No one noticed though. You could always just- She didn’t have time to complete that thought, before another leak found its way through her weakening defenses, definitely longer that before. If the last one was considered a drop, then the athletic academic had definitely produced what could be described as a dribble this time. This required another vice-like grip to be placed on her crotch through her skirt, with Chloe now acknowledging that the time for decency had long-since gone. Her raised heart rate and shallowed breathing were more telltale signs of the internal conflict growing within her. Knowing every second spent on trying to understand these feelings was another closer to an utter loss of control, she swung her tote bag over her right shoulder, begrudgingly removed her hand from between her thighs, and steeled herself as she stood up. Hsss Fuck Time seemed to freeze as she almost doubled over from the pain, slamming her right thigh over her left as she lurched towards the ground. Chloe could hear an audible gush shoot out of her for over a second, quickly being absorbed by her now soaked panties. She could feel the liquid trickling across her aching and tiring lips, only teasing her further in her current state. I…can make it. I know I can make it. I’ve got to make it. Her mind had now settled on the single issue of making it home as fast as her tortured body could allow. Doing everything she could to not writhe in desperation, she began at crawling pace to tip toe out of the lecture hall into the mild evening air. The supposed 5-minute journey to her dorm had not factored in the measures Chloe had to take to prevent wetting herself. She dared not open her thighs more than she needed to, as it felt like the pressure placed on her pee-hole was all that separated the contents of her bladder from the concrete below. Shuffling one foot in front of the other was making for painstaking progress She would have been concerned about how she looked to an onlooker if she had the mental capacity to think of anything but the discomfort her need was causing her. Every fibre in her body was forcing her twitching hands to stay balled in fists by her sides, fighting the temptation to cup her now-twitching pussy to help her hold. She was blind in pain, panic, and…another third feeling she didn’t want to admit to herself. Trying to understand these new sensations lead to a short, but critical, lapse in concentration, as she stepped on an uneven paving slab ahead of her. She lost another spurt as she froze in place, legs crossed. She felt the first droplet slide down her thighs, and although she knew they wouldn’t be visible to a passerby, it was a sign of the inevitable to Chloe. The pressure above her crotch was now unbearable, and, despite her accommodation building being no more than 100m away, the brief moments of weakness had given her a taste of relief that was now becoming too strong to ignore. Her breathing became rapid and irregular as she could feel her heart banging in her ears, the pain now white-hot between her legs. This mature, 26-year-old academic, quivering in primal desperation, felt her legs glued to the floor. I’m not going to make it. Her locked and trembling thighs tensed as much as they could as her weary muscles began to fail. She felt a faint warmness permeate the searing pain in her bladder. Despite every internal alarm bell screaming for her to hold on, she felt her control begin to wither. Slowly, but terrifyingly surely, she felt her grip on her bodily functions loosen as piss began making its way through her urethra. This was the end. She was going to piss right then and there. She was humiliated already – she didn’t know how she was going to cope when everyone saw her, a grown woman, have an accident. Through a blur of tears that were now falling down her face, she scanned to see her how big the audience would be to her humiliation. That’s when she saw it. One makes irrational decisions when under pressure, when stressed. To Chloe actively leaking piss into her underwear in the middle of her university campus, it’s completely conceivable that some grass in the middle of a university quod could look like a toilet when the alternative is to have an accident in the middle of the path. With one, final, effort, Chloe diverted all her physical energy to leaping onto the grass, before sinking to her knees in defeat. She didn't even have to relax before her pent-up piss came exploding out of her. In her heightened sense of panic, the hissing rush that was pouring out of her tired lips, spreading over her clit, and drenching the ground below was deafening. She could physically feel the bulge on her belly deflate as she sunk her head lower into relief. Her panties were ruined, she knew that, but the relief she felt was euphoric, it was intoxicating, it was, it was.. Oh my god. I’m going to cum Orgasmic. The world around her went black as she felt her heart rate crescendo once again, the constant pressure of her piss jetting into her panties was a level of stimulation she’d never felt before. She couldn’t help but slide one heel to settle just into her crotch, gyrating her hips to maximise the sensation. In an act of horny foolishness, she took her right hand and pressed on her bladder, increasing the speed of the stream coming from between her legs into a torrent. That was too much for the teased and tired girl, as electricity exploded from her clitoris. She had to take her free left hand and cover her mouth to stop herself screaming in climactic joy. No man, woman, or toy had ever given her the bliss that she had felt in the last 30 seconds. She'd reached a climactic nirvana that opened her eyes to what a true orgasm could be, what a true orgasm should be. She couldn't help but feel disappointment as she felt her stream begin to dry down from a torrent, to a flood, to a stream, to a dribble, until, finally, her bladder was empty. Being freed of her urinary urge allowed her to snap back to a relative reality. Regaining control over her breathing, she scanned the area around her once again, expecting to be greeted with swathes of her peers jeering at her for having an accident like a little girl. To her confusion, however, life was continuing as normal. Passers-by were walking past as if nothing had happened. A snatched glance down at her waist revealed an fortunate piece of genius from her – her skirt had fallen in such a way that her stream poured directly into the grass below, hiding her accident from the outside world. She had survived what could have been the most embarrassing moment of her life, save for a soaking and sticky pair of ruined panties. Holy fuck. I just pissed myself… Scanning the area one more time and checking the puddle of evidence wasn’t too noticeable, she gingerly rose to her feet, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm she’d had. I Just pissed myself…and I fucking loved it. ### Hi guys 😊, Veeeery long term user of omo.org here. Always had the urge to be more active on this site, but randomly got hit with a burst of creativity over the past couple of days. The fics of self-discovery have always been a favourite of mine, and I don’t feel that they’re a genre explored often enough on this site, at least in fiction form, despite it being such a universal experience for so many of us. This ‘use of public grass space as an emergency toilet’ fantasy has been a fantasy of mine for a while too, so couldn’t think of any better topic for my first ever proper contribution to this site despite being a viewer for almost 10 years. This is the first piece of creative writing I’ve done since I left school, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback positive or negative. If this gets enough eyes, I’d definitely consider continuing Chloe’s wet adventures into her own self-discovery. Hope you enjoy! My DM’s are always open on this site or Twitter (Michyman442), so don’t hesitate in reaching out – I’m always on the lookout for Omo friends. Happy holding, J P.S. Thank you to my ‘editor’…you know who you are 😉

View File Desperate student Desperate naughty student pees herself then teases with a sex toy Submitter IvyWilliams89 Submitted 05/17/2023 Category Female  

View File LZDM-037 clip Teacher discovers desperate student Tsubasa Hachino and Yuri Fukada Submitter maxomaxo2 Submitted 02/05/2022 Category Female  

This happened in my senior year of high school. I was 18 and about a month away from graduation. I had a habit of peeing before I left home, and then not going again until the lunch break. Unfortunately (or not?), I also had a long bus ride and drank coffee every morning, so I'd usually have to go pretty bad by the time the break finally happened. My first couple classes that day were fine. I was feeling an urge to pee by the end of the second one, but nothing more than normal. Then I had history. It was the last class before the break, we had a big test, and we weren't allowed to leave until we finished it. I remember getting to the classroom and thinking I didn't need to go that badly, maybe a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10. Turns out I'd misjudged how much concentrating on a test would affect my desperation. The teacher handed us all packets of paper and told us to begin. After only a few questions, I was already getting distracted by my bladder. What started as a manageable urge was quickly growing into a definite need. I shifted around a little and squeezed my thighs together, trying to stay focused on the questions. I continued on through the test, struggling to mentally balance both the test-taking and the pee holding at once. By the time I was halfway done, I was bouncing my leg and squirming in my seat. My desk was in the front row on the right side, only a few feet from the teacher's desk, and I'm sure he could see my desperation. So could anybody else in the room who bothered to pay attention, and my fidgeting was definitely causing a few glances. Minutes ticked by, and the closer I got to finishing the test, the harder I had to try to keep it in. My legs bounced rapidly and I rocked my hips back and forth, pressing my pussy against the hard plastic chair. I didn't care who saw me at this point; I was just trying not to wet my pants in class. I had to go so badly, it was a full-on emergency. The bell rang then, and I hurriedly finished scribbling down something for the final essay questions. I tossed my things in my bag, wincing at the pressure in my bladder as I stood up, and practically threw my test onto the teacher's desk as I walked quickly out of the room. The hallway was super busy, and I had to push my way through a maze of people. It was so hard to not shove my hand between my legs. I was about to lose it. The bathroom was close, but there were still so many people in the way, and the crowd wasn't moving fast enough. My desperation surged, and I felt a small jet of pee spurt into my panties. I braced myself for the flood, blushing and squeezing my muscles tight, but I miraculously managed to hang on and reach the bathroom. A few more drops leaked out as I opened the door, then a few more. By the time I'd rushed into the stall, a slow stream of pee trickled constantly from my pussy. I almost couldn't yank my jeans down fast enough, but I made it, just barely. I peed for what felt like forever. When I examined my clothes, there was a large wet spot on my panties, covering the center of the crotch. My pants were also slightly damp, but not enough to draw any attention. I dried my panties as much as possible and continued with the day. • • 🌸 • • I also got really desperate and almost peed myself during another test! I'd missed class the day it was given, so I was taking a make-up exam after school a couple days later. It was just me in the middle of a small classroom, with the teacher at the front. I don't remember the subject, but the teacher was a middle aged guy, I didn't know him very well. I already had to pee pretty bad when I got there. I'm not sure why I didn't go before the test, when my last class got out; maybe I thought it would be quick and I could hang on a little longer. I did my best to focus and answer the questions, but just like the other time, trying to take the test made my desperation worse. Pretty soon I was bouncing and wiggling around at my desk, very aware of my full bladder. Eventually I was completely bursting. I knew I was about to wet my pants, so I had to sheepishly get up and ask if I could go to the bathroom, visibly squirming as I stood there. The teacher let me go, and I walked down the hall as fast as I could without attracting attention from any people still lingering around. As soon as I got into the bathroom, I grabbed myself tight and starting crossing my legs and bouncing on the spot. Luckily nobody else was there. I managed to make it and get my pants and panties down in time, but it was a very close call. Going back and finishing the test was a little embarrassing too, since I knew the teacher had seen how bad I had to pee 😳

As the sound of an alarm clock pierced the calmness of the early morning, a young girl rolled over to silence it. She glanced at the time on the screen, 6:30. With a large groan, she heaved herself out of bed before rubbing her eyes, clearing away her brunette hair, which was all over the place from her sleep last night. She slid her feet out of her bathroom and into the adjacent hallway. She trudged down the hallway, practically sleepwalking as she entered into the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she waited a bit for the water to warm up. As she waited, she sat herself on the toilet, emptying her bladder's contents with a nice sigh. As she finished up, she entered into the stream of hot water, using it to wake herself up. She was only in there a few minutes before she exited, wrapping a towel around herself. Quickly returning back to her room to change and do her hair, she put on a pair of skinny jeans and a sweatshirt for the cold outdoors that was inevitably waiting for her. She made her way down to the kitchen where an older woman was making breakfast. She quickly diverted her attention from cooking to the figure who had just entered. "Good morning Rebecca...I'm making your favorite breakfast for your special day." She acknowledged politely. "I told you before mom...being a teacher's assistant is nothing special. Most of the time they just sit there for the entire class." The young woman responded quickly as she started to prepare a mug of coffee. "Yes...but you just graduated high school Rebecca, you finished all of your classes early...that's a huge accomplishment! Now you're a TA for the rest of the semester...and it's the first day of that...so I'm making it regardless." Rebecca thought better of arguing with her mother as she prepared her mug of coffee, sitting at the table. Before long, her mom had prepared a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. The aroma quickly overcame her and she began to dig in without hesitation. As she finished, she placed her plate in the dishwasher, grabbing her mug of coffee. "Thank you..." She nodded in gratitude before making the brief trek back to her room. She pulled the backpack off of her chair as she slung it across her back. Instead of being filled with the crushing weight of textbooks, all Rebecca carried today was a laptop and a notebook. She pulled out her empty reusable water bottle and slid it into the compartment in the side. She took a deep breath as she departed her house, her coffee mug in hand. As soon as she exited, she immediately felt the cool air brushing up against her sweatshirt. Rebecca took a sip from her mug as she started to walk down the sidewalk towards the local high school. It wasn't a very long walk and it was one that Rebecca had made for three and a half years up to this point. She joined the dozens of other students who walked to school and eventually slid up next to one of her friends who lived nearby. "Hey there Alice...how does it feel to still be in class?" Rebecca teased, giving off a slight chuckle. "I only have one class...meanwhile you have to be a TA for the entire semester..." Alice promptly responded back to Rebecca. "You know they do absolutely nothing right? I get to be a teacher's assistant, sit there for a few hours, and get the credit for it." Rebecca defended as she shrugged her shoulders. "Besides...it's chemistry...that class is an absolute joke." Alice only rolled her eyes as they approached the brick facade of the school. The two girls promptly walked up the small staircase into the school. They quickly said their goodbyes as they went their separate ways. Rebecca made her way along the linoleum floor as she continued sipping from her coffee in order to wake herself up. Glancing up at a nearby clock, she ensured she was on time. "7:15...perfect." She thought to herself as she peered around into a nondescript room. Rebecca glanced inside, as she saw a few students already seated. She walked up to the teacher's desk where a younger man in his 30s was seated, working on his computer. Rebecca cleared her throat and introduced herself. "Mr. Engstrom? I'm Rebecca...I'm your TA for the semester." She introduced politely. The teacher looked up and produced a friendly smile. "Ah...Rebecca...good to meet you. Today will be a bit of a busy day...it's the start of the 2nd semester...but we already have three classes that are year round. Only one new class today...which will be 1st period. Otherwise...we're doing a test in one class, an experiment in another and plain classwork in the last period. Does that sound good?" He inquired, although Rebecca didn't really have much of an option. "That sounds great Mr. Engstrom...I suppose I'll be waiting at the back until you need me." Rebecca offered as she made her way to the back of the class where a small table was. She sat down, putting her backpack next to her feet as she set her mug on the table after taking a sip from it. She shook it around gently to see how much was left. "About half...not too bad..." She muttered to herself as she observed the remaining students pile into the class. Another few minutes passed before a loud bell shrieked out throughout the school. The teacher gently closed the door and stood at the front of the class, waiting for the students to be silent. Once they were, he began to introduce himself. "Good morning everyone...I'm Mr. Engstrom...I'll be your teacher for this semester. I'm excited to be teaching you all chemistry...I know you all will do great in this class. I've been teaching for about three years at this point so I'm still relatively new. However, this semester, I'm lucky to have a teacher's assistant...she's currently a senior and she just technically graduated..." He narrated, motioning upwards with his hand upon concluding the last part. Rebecca rose up out of her seat and gave off a polite wave. "I'm Rebecca...like Mr. Engstrom said...I just graduated but I decided to be a TA for this semester. I took this class back in sophomore year so I know what to expect and I can help you guys out if need be." She introduced as she soon sat back down. She let out a soft chuckle to herself as she noticed how some of the male students seemed to perk up when they saw her. She was fairly attractive and had a bit of a lean tone to her. Even in her previous classes, many of her male classmates would steal occasional glances in her direction when they believed she wasn't looking. Rebecca thought of herself as slight above average looks wise but it always amused her on how her fellow students looked at her. As the teacher continued narrating, Rebecca entertained herself by drinking from her coffee mug. It was early in the morning and she had many hours to go for the day. She wanted to wake herself up with her caffeinated beverage so she wouldn't fall asleep by the end of the day. She simply relaxed in her chair as she listened to the teacher's speech, as it finally concluded. "Alright...let's begin class now." With that, Rebecca's day as a TA had begun. (This is the 1st part to a new story, let me know any feedback you have!)

Kayla's POV: Excitedly, I got up from my desk. After months of work I had finally finished my project. Now, it was time to take revenge for all the humiliation that I had taken in the last 2 years. I looked over at my shelves were a huge pile of different kinds of adult diapers was placed. With a few clicks, I opened the my universities website and searched for her email address. There she was: Professor Susan Robinson. I attached the file and pressed "send". My nipples twitched at the thought that soon that woman would be mine. Susan's POV: I had been up late again to correct some exams. Once I was finished, I wanted to give my Email folder a quick check and then head to bed. When I logged in, an Email by Kayla Harrington titled "Very important" immediately caught my eye. I knew that Kayla was one of my students, but I thought that we didn't get along very well as she just couldn't accept my very strict teaching style. The only text the mail contained was "Please watch this" with a file attached. Eager to see what was so important, I opened the file. A video started to play on my computer screen. Circles in different color were rotating on it. After a while of just watching the circles, Kayla's voice could be heard through my Laptop's speaker. "Dear Susan. I have finally decided to claim you as mine. You have annoyed me for too long. From now on, you will be my slave. Further explanation will be done tomorrow morning in your office before your lessons start." With that, the recording stopped and my screen went black and I was left confused and angered. It was as if something in my mind had just made "click" but I just couldn't point a finger at it. What was this brat thinking? I would definitely teach her a lesson tomorrow! But for now I would push those thoughts aside and go to bed... The next morning, I got up rather quickly, gathered my things and headed out of the building were the professor's flats were situated. The university that I was teaching at was quite exclusive and almost all professors and students lived in the university dorms. Additionally, it was a university for you women only. I headed into my office and started to prepare for the day, when I remembered Kayla and her little "message". Just in that moment Kayla entered my office. She was quite an attractive young woman around the age of 21. Her black her complemented her facial features and her perky boobs and butt did the rest. I had become a professor quite early so the age gap between me and her was only 6 years. Putting on a stern expression, I started the conversation. "Miss Harrington, we need to talk about what you sent me yesterday!" Kayla didn't show any signs of regret instead she interrupted me before I could even start the next sentence. "Yes, we indeed need to talk. You have gotten on my nerves for so long, given me bad grades and tried to humiliate me in front of the other students. This will come to an end now." I had to admit that I had been quite strict with her because I honestly couldn't stand her but that didn't justify her behavior. Before I could even respond, she pulled out her mobile and pressed something on it. Suddenly, my legs went all wobbly and I couldn't sustain my own weight as I slowly slid to the floor, were I landed on all fours. A vicious grin showed on Kayla's face. "Now that's better!", she announced. I was still too shocked to answer but my puzzled look must have explained everything to her. "That video you watched yesterday, gave me control over your body. From now on we will be playing by my rules and you will follow my commands. And there I was sitting on the floor, unable to resist anything that she would do to me. Still baffled, I just nodded. "From now on, you will call me "Mistress" and you will obey me without hesitation! Do you understand?" Reluctantly I answered, "yes..." "yes, who?" "yes, mistress" I mumbled. I couldn't believe I had just called one of my students "mistress". The thought alone was humiliating enough. "We will work on that but it will do for now! Let's get you dressed up then!" She reached into the large bag that she had brought with me and with horror I saw her pulling out a pack full with diapers. Thick adult diapers! She put the diapers into one of my shelves and reached into the package to grab one. Holding the plain white thing in her hands, she slowly approached me. "Just don't move, Susan. It will be easier for you", she said while I desperately tried to crawl away from her. Unfortunately due to my current lack of strength, she caught me with ease. "Seems like we will have to work on you obedience a bit" With a smooth movement she pulled down my skirt and then my panties, exposing my bare bottom to her. My cheeks flushed from the humiliation as she pulled me onto her lap. Without hesitation she started to deliver a spanking onto my sorry butt. My buttocks jiggled with each smack and I let out loud yelps of pain while she was disciplining me. "Please stop!", I begged after a while. "I can't take this anymore!" Will you behave and comply to me orders then", she asked underlining every word with a hard smack on my already red butt. "yes... yes, mistress!", I immediately corrected myself in fear of more punishment. But to my surprise my tormentor stopped and put me back onto the floor, where I now lay on my back. Not daring to resist, I didn't move an inch when she slid the thick adult diaper under my already bared bottom. I felt embarrassed that she saw me in such a position with my legs spread fully exposing my rosy pussy to her. My bum was still aching from the spanking that I had just received, so the soft padding gave me quite a bit of comfort. With almost gentle movements, Kayla taped the diaper around my waist. After Kayla had gotten up from between my legs again. I could feel the strength reentering my body. Yet, I was too scared to get up without Kayla's permission so I settled with just looking at her. She then motioned me to get up. While standing, the padding between my legs was even more present. I made a few steps and realized that I would be slightly waddling all the time. But I didn't get too much chance to accustom to this new sensation as Kayla handed me an entire bottle of water. "Drink that!" Without hesitation I started gulping down the liquid. And I could feel it entering my body and filling my bladder. Hopefully I wouldn't have to stay in this diaper for too long. "It's time for you classes", Kayla stated and tossed my skirt back to me. I was a little worried because she had kept my panties but at this point I didn't dare to speak up anymore. And so after I had put on my skirt again, I waddled towards the classroom...

Hello! This was a request for @SecretPerson as practice for story commissions that I'm going to be officially announcing pretty soon! I just need to have enough examples of the sort of stuff I do ready, and to work out exactly what I want my prices to be and how I want to receive payment. So keep an eye out for that soon! This was supposed to be a 1000 word story, but I went a little over because I was having fun with it and it ended up being 1478 words in total! Obviously if this happened with a real commission I wouldn't charge for those extra words, so it's a little bonus I guess! The request was for a story about a strict teacher who, due to her pride, had refused to use the toilets on a field trip, and now was stuck with a student totally bursting and unable to find a toilet. He gave me freedom to decide on all the other details and whether or not she manages to make it. I hope you enjoy the read! ^-^ Lost and Losing It at The Museum Mrs. Alison clacked her heels to a stop and pressed her shapely thighs together. A hand hovered to the waistband of her pencil-skirt and assessed the slight swelling of her abdomen; firm from the heavy mass of urine brewing inside. Walking up beside her, Hailey Waters glanced up from her phone, “What’s the holdup Teach?” Alison supressed the urge to dance in place, straightened her glasses and adjusted her hair bun. She pretended to look over the stone-age artifacts adorning the walls. “I’m just wondering how we lost the others…” “Uh, I was, like, texting in the toilets, and-” “Yes,” Mrs. Alison silenced the eighteen-year-old blonde, not wishing to remind herself of the relief she could have had just an hour prior, if not for her pride. “I know why we lost the others, but surely they can’t have gone that far!” Truthfully they could have, given the labyrinthine structure of the museum, it wasn’t surprising the rest of the field trip was proving impossible to find. Worse still, Alison wasn’t sure where they’d come from, and where too that precious restroom had been. Eight hours since her morning release, the typically composed woman had two coffees and three water bottles bearing down on her trembling nethers. So far, she’d hidden every last shiver, wiggle, and squirm from her student, but her resolve was waning. With controlled breathing, Alison attempted to resume the search, but upon the first step forward was struck by an immense surge of urgency. Growing impatient, her bladder contacted painfully, crushing her sphincter, and firing jolts of sloshing fury towards her exit. Alison gasped sharply, stumbling into double-crossed legs, her ass jutting out and gyrating while the waves crashed against the gates. Her breathing ceased, face scrunched up, grunts escaped gritted teeth, but the burning rage of pent-up piddle remained corked… For now. The assault lasted about twenty seconds, then finally relented, and retreated to plot its next attack - which Alison knew could only be stronger. She panted, glasses fogging up, then slowly straightened herself just in time to hear giggling from behind her. “Oh my god!” Hailey cackled, “Do you have to piss?” Embarrassment coloured Alison’s cheeks and she brushed down her skirt, “O-Of course not I… I lost my balance. I…” “You totally gotta go! The way you were shaking, I thought you were gonna wet yourself!” “I will not!” Snapped the now red-faced teacher, stamping one leg and giving Hailey a fiery glare, fuelled by the anger in her piss-pouch. The blonde took a step back, raising her hands, “O-Okay, sure… Whatever you say…” she smirked. This trip had finally gotten interesting. An hour later, Mrs. Alison couldn’t even feign composure. With every-other halting step, she would grind her thighs together and wiggle her skirt-straining rump, taking laboured breaths and choking back cries of anguish. Her eyes were staring ahead, unfocused and brimming with tears. Sweat trickled down her neck and caused her blouse to cling to her heaving chest. “Gonna lose it?” Hailey teased from behind. “Of course not!” Mrs. Alison all but snarled, though it could just as well have been a gargle by the state of her floating back-teeth. Hailey hadn’t let up, “You can’t hold it forever!” she sang. Alison bit her tongue, wanting to reply that she could, but finding herself completely overwhelmed by the weight of her boiling burden. Once more she cautiously palmed her abdomen, and found it jutting out as if she’d swallowed a bowling ball, tender, and cramping. She felt pain in her back from lugging this behemoth bladder around. Cold sweat-drops of fear mingled with those that exertion had already brought to her face, as Alison wondered if the organ might really rupture should it continue to accommodate cargo. The sound of sloshing water drags her flooded train of thought back to the present. Trembling, she cranes her neck her to see Hailey guzzling from a large water bottle, making an exaggerated show of doing so. She then locks eyes with her teacher and offers it up, “Want some?” A moment passes, Alison staring at the bottle blankly, trying not to burst as Hailey tried not to giggle, keeping a straight face she continued, “You just seem thirsty, what with all the panting, you know… like a dog.” Alison fumed silently, bitter rage building like a fire in her kidneys. She swallowed her urges and took another step, her knuckles white and pussy spasming. Around the two of them were a series of Elizabethan artifacts and model ships, ones Alison looked to for distraction, but couldn’t help picturing in a warm sea of her own making. Yellow waves rolled behind her eyes, but as she shook her head to banish the torturous visions, Hailey’s assault was unrelenting. “What’s wrong puppy? Looking for a fire hydrant?” Lifted legs and arching streams drift to the surface of Alison’s water-logged mind, the innocent easing of her agony, if only she’d been born with a tail. Her piss froths upon the verge of her control, a scalding knife behind her quivering crotch. One step forward, another, then another. Instinctively her eyes dart left to right, scouring for something, anything to aid her in this, her most desperate hour of need. There’s nothing. There’s nothing but planes of glass and further hallways, twists and turns, without a blessed bathroom sign in sight. No hope. Two more steps, then she stops, her knees knock together, her face is turning purple, the veins in her neck bulge, her inner thighs flex and strain. A spike of pain, her bloated piss-pouch contorts itself and squeezes like a juice-box. Burning urine seeps past her pelvic floor and trickles into that short, all-important passageway between control and release. Her urethra fills with urine. Her piss-hole puckers up, her world falls out of focus. Hailey taunts her, she doesn’t hear it, not anymore. The first drop emerges, it hangs above her precious, not-yet-tainted, white cotton panties, suspended its own surface tension. Ready to fall. Heel impacts ceramic, echoing and sharp. Practically pouncing, Mrs. Alison takes off in one final surge of defiance, one last bid to outrun mother nature and stumble upon salvation. Skidding at the corner ahead she almost falls, but turns her body with precision and, using her bladder as a ballast, rights herself in the nick of time. She draws in breath, a spurt is lost, just barely stayed as it started. Lagging just behind, Hailey catches up and gasps out loud. What lays ahead Alison can scarcely believe. Toilets. Privies. Chamber Pots. Displayed against the far wall were a dozen examples of commodes from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. Hailey doubles over laughing, but Alison doesn’t hear. A constant trickle of urine seeps out past her clenched pussy lips. Another spurt escapes and for half-a-second she’s pissing full force, her panties soaked and her shame snaking down her thighs. With the last of her will she stops it, then scrambles towards the display, bladder pounding in her ears. Her skirt is forced up, over her ass and up to her navel, the dam already shattered as she yanks her damp panties to the side, squatting and stepping over the glazed clay pot in one, fluid motion. The thing must have been secured quite firmly to its raised platform because the power behind her piss should have sent it flying. The jet was as thick as a climbing rope and splattered against the receptacle with a cacophony worthy of a geyser. Alison could not hold her cries of joy at the single most intense relief she could imagine, her entire lower body tingling with pleasure and warmth, the steam of her spray rising to her face and clouding her thoughts, getting her drunk on the fumes of her own pleasure. She imagined she was some Lady or Duchess that might have used this pot before her, having just endured a day of courtesies with a glass always brimming with wine. By the time her well had run dry, the pot was half full. Containing what seemed like almost two litres of still simmering piddle. Mrs. Alison fanned herself, face flushed, sweat glistening on her cleavage as she unbuttoned her blouse a little to cool down. Adrift in a sea of bliss. A cough reaches her, and she returns to earth to see Mr Carter, wide eyed and pale, with the rest of their students gathered behind him, barely concealing their giggles and whispers. “I… I…” Alison squeaked, waiting to wake up from this terrible nightmare. Tears about to flow as freely as her urine just had into a priceless piece of history. Until she saw Hailey, who wasn’t laughing, who was even redder in the face than she was. The blonde approached her, staring dumbly, then took a pack of tissues from her bag and offered them up. The End.

Deadlines are the worst - I have this horrible habit of leaving my work to the last minute, and then having to rush through the lot. Hopefully though - I learned my lesson this time. In fact I'm sitting in a cold puddle of lessons today - let me tell you a bit about it. So - my name's Jamie, I'm 22, a girl, about five-foot three, probably a bit above average weight, brown hair to my shoulders - nothing too exciting. And I had a deadline due...Exactly 23 minutes ago. Despite the title above, I didn't miss that deadline. No - the deadline I missed was self imposed. I thought this assignment was due next month, so I hadn't really been paying attention to it until this afternoon. It was just chance that I noticed it to be honest - I was trying to check the deadline for another assignment - which is due on Friday, if you were curious. But you know how it is, right - you find that deadline that's due way earlier than expected, you get that hit of sheer absolute panic, and then you blaze through a paper. Well this afternoon I had that hit of panic (to the point I actually made a noise when I saw the date on the assignment) and decided I had to get it done. And what better fuel for writing an essay than like...eight cups of coffee. Yeah it's not good for me, but neither is failing university. And I'm paying to be at uni, I'm not gonna fail. Even if that does mean I feel like I'm not gonna be sleeping for the rest of this week. Initially it wasn't anything out the ordinary - I sat down, got my laptop set up...spent about 20 minutes watching some YouTube video about Aldi (No, I don't know what made me think it was a good use of my time), and then set about working. If anyone else here does history, then you'll know how bad the essays can get - Four-thousand words isn't even that bad compared to other essays I've had - but generally I have more than half a day to write them. Unless I do this. The first hour was the slowest, as usual. Trying to think of the question, and then trying to come up with a rough plan and find some sources that support my argument. Eventually I decided my essay was going to be about the failures of the League of Nations. So as you can imagine, I'm panicking, I'm putting down coffee like there's no tomorrow, and by the third paragraph I'm getting up to use the toilet. At this point I should probably have eased up on the coffee, but hindsight is 20/20. Instead I doubled down, hoping to get a caffeine induced surge of energy. Or a heart attack - that'd probably be reason enough to get an extension. It's hard to write about this, because...well most of it was just me drinking, writing shit down, and using the toilet - rinse and repeat. Until about 10pm. So - Like I said, deadline is today, which means technically the deadline is midnight. Which is two hours away from 10pm. P A N I C M O D E I saw the clock and my heart sort of lept - I poured my...sixth? Yeah, sixth coffee out the press. I hadn't bothered to reboil the kettle since the last one, so there was no wait between pouring and drinking half the cup. I didn't think much of it of course - I'd just got back from the toilet too, I wouldn't be needing to head back for at least an hour, right? Yeah, about that... It didn't take a whole half-hour for me to feel that coffee on the last stretch of it's journey through me, but I was a solid 700 words away from the word count. And even once I'd hit it, I had to proof read the essay, maybe cut down some words if I went over, make sure I'd got everything down that I wanted to, made sure my citations were correctly typed out...usual excitement. Important thing is, those things take time - which I had about an hour and thirty-five minutes of. Using the toilet would take...maybe 3 minutes per incident. And I didn't have 3 minutes to spare every half hour. I made the decision to hold it and kept on writing. It wasn't too bad at first. I sat myself cross legged on my computer chair, typing away and bouncing my leg up and down. I'd put on some music to distract me from the mounting pressure down below, and soon I was bouncing my knee in rhythm to the music. The kettle beside me was still warm and mostly full, and the coffee press was looking very tempting. I'm not sure what was going through my head at the time, but I found myself making another coffee. I think I might have been trying to distract myself from my increasingly full bladder. Spooning the coffee from bag to press was easy enough, a little shaky but I didn't spill any this time. I'm not sure if the shaking was caused by my bladder or the fact I had more caffeine in me than all of Starbucks. Pouring the water out the kettle though - that wasn't so easy. The water splashed out the spout and into the press, and the sound alone was like a slap to the face. Water - pouring and filling a container. The pressure from my bladder surged and I nearly dropped the kettle. I thrust a hand between my legs and managed to hold on, spilling a little water on the table in the process. I suppose I should have seen that as a bad omen - but the deadline was so close now, and I was well behind on my work. With the press filled I took to writing for another few minutes while the coffee brewed. By now my foot was bouncing non stop, my heel bashing against one of the wheels of the chair every time it came down. Oh, uh, it dawns on me I should probably tell you a bit more about my appearance...you know, given the nature of this website. That description from before probably isn't the best... Okay so - err, god I hate describing myself... Uh...Have you seen that drawing of the guys from Red Letter Media, but they're anime girls? Google it if you haven't - I look exactly like Jay from that drawing, except my eyes are green, and I've got freckles. And smaller breasts. As for my clothes, this evening I've gone for an ensemble of classy grey trackies (complete with a hole on the left leg from where I poked a hole through them with a pen), and a most excellent shirt depicting the characters from a famous comedy series. That's it - no shoes, no undies, no socks, no bra. Classic outfit for the student who hasn't left the flat in about four days. So with those grey trackies in mind... Another omen was to come to me next as I picked up the coffee press and began pouring. The sound caused my body to tense up in a way I'd not experienced before, a cross between a wince and sudden realization. My bladder sort of screamed at me all the while hot coffee was splashing into my cup, threatening to take matters into it's own hands. I managed to un-freeze myself just in time to stop from overfilling my mug. I flinched as I was doing so though, flicking a single drop of coffee onto my knee. At this point it was like the universe was warning me. My body had frozen up, my bladder had made it's intentions extremely clear, and I'd even got my trackies wet - and as you know, grey trackies go practically black the moment they get damp. And dampness soaks through the material...I didn't notice at first because of the heat from the coffee, but as I went to take a sip from the mug I could feel the spot on my knee cooling. My eyes widened - I want to mention this because I didn't expect them to. At this point, a lot of my reactions weren't really in my control any more. For example, my whole body shivered as I put the cup back on the desk and swallowed. I...well I knew what it meant. I don't often hold until I can't, but I've done it before once or twice. It's not really something I do on purpose, but we've all been there. That shiver...it's like a last minute warning. Like DEFCON 1, but for bladders. (WETCON 1?) The shiver went over my body slowly, as if being lifted up slowly from my pelvis and dragged through my ribcage and shoulders, finishing at the back of my neck with an unintentional sound of 'uwwaough' out of my mouth. I glanced at the clock on the bottom right of my screen. Ten fourty-five now. I checked my word count. ...It had gone up by about 20 words from the last time I checked...But how? I'd been writing for a solid ten minutes! How could I have...Argh! Wasn't the biggest problem I had though - the moment my brain displayed a concern for the lack of work done, my bladder very loudly announced that it's problem took priority. What to do, what to do? ...Really I should have just gone to the toilet. Instead my I found my hand lifting my cup to my lips, feeling hot coffee pour down my throat, and trying to type with my free hand. I almost feel like it was just rude to my bladder, really - I knew very well what was going on, and I knew I had to go soon. As in, I didn't have a choice - I was going to pee soon, whether I wanted to or not. As I put the mug back down, now empty (not unlike the cavity inside my head, where most people would store a brain), I looked down at myself. I almost wasn't expecting the thoughts that I came up with - let me quote them for you, they're great (/s) I'm almost embarrassed to type this out... 'Would it really be that bad?' I asked myself inside my head. Well - yes, it would be, but by now I think there was so much urine in my body it had probably entered my blood stream and was effecting my decisions. All I could think about now really was my bladder. It felt full - not as in 'gee I should pee soon' - more a feeling of 'I think my body has reached it's physical capacity for liquid'. I lifted my shirt and looked down - Have you ever seen yourself bulge before? It's...weird. It was almost like I'd gotten fat, but very specifically just below my belly button. Something stupid inside me told me to poke it - FUCK was that a bad idea. I didn't like, poke it gently either - I was so shaky and struggling to hold on my hand just kinda bounced off of it, shooting pain through my...self. I kinda...twisted my face up, bowing my whole head forwards and screwing my eyes shut, hissing air through my teeth and clamping my thighs together. What a dumb move that was - if anything was going to make me hyper aware of the pressure - it was punching myself in the bladder. I managed to control myself, but I knew I'd come as far as I could now. If I didn't get up immediately, I'd be leaking. I looked over to my door. I hadn't got up immediately, and I had a few seconds to realise my mistake. The pressure inside me - which bare in mind was enough that I couldn't stop bouncing my leg for a good fifteen minutes now - was surging. It almost felt like my bladder was rising up through my body, pushing itself upward into my lungs - which in turn pushed back down as I was breathing. I felt myself break out into a sweat - either panic or just from the sheer amount of liquid in my body - and my breathing was becoming hoarse and shallow. Each breath I drew in was pushing down on my bladder, and my only respite was to breath out - which let my bladder take up more space, only for another breath to press down on it even harder. I felt the urine inside me begin to move. It was slow and I could feel my muscles fighting to stay shut as best they could, but even still I knew they were fighting a losing fight now. I...I don't understand what was going through my head - I knew that I should be getting out the seat, I knew I should be bailing and diving to the bathroom - but do you know what my dumb ass did? Ignored it. I figured if I focused on my essay, I could ignore it a little longer. I must have been a mess to look at - I was breathing loudly through my nose, trying to stop myself taking in too much air at once. I was sweaty and gross, even managed to leave a wet patch on my sleeve from wiping my forehead. My legs were going mental beneath my desk, flipping and twisting in all directions like some odd student-pretzel. When my legs weren't flipping out, my toes were clinging onto the metal frame of the table, before my sweaty soles lost grip and my legs resumed their erratic ballet. I began typing - immediately hitting about 3 keys every time I bought my finger down and typing out some nonsense. I...growled(?) and held my finger down on the backspace - and that was my first leak. I didn't feel it come out - which was odd, I'd felt it all moving just moments ago. I think. Maybe the pressure was so intense I couldn't feel any other sensation aside from the rapid cooling of the tiny spurt of liquid that had just left my body and found a new home in my trackies. At this point I think a mix of physical pain and essay-based stress had made me entirely irrational. I say this because...as typing this up, I've noticed the empty smoothie bottle sitting in my bin. It's a large bottle with a really wide mouth. That's annoying. Doesn't matter now, I gotta clean up anyway. Yeah - spoiler warning I guess, but you saw the tags. I glanced at the clock again - it had gone forward about three minutes since I last checked. The word count hadn't moved however. I decided I'd reach the nearest hundred words before I could take a toilet break. My bladder let me type out about three. My first sensation was my torso going kinda tight and I leant forward toward my screen. I thrust a hand between my legs, clamping my thighs around my hand too. My right hand was now typing out words letter by letter. It was getting hard to read the words I was typing, so I wiped my eyes with my typing hand. Not a great idea to touch something warm and wet when you're this desperate to pee. Actually I say that, I suppose it's whole point of this website. Either way - my body felt wetness, and then my ears heard my own throat moan/whimper. ...I never know if I should type out vocalizations. I kinda went 'nuuuraaaah!', but under my breath. As the tears now coating my right hand cooled and my finger resumed typing, I felt myself losing control. It started off slowly - at first I felt a sudden warmth on my skin beneath my trackies. This warmth seemed to pulsate, coinciding perfectly with my breathing; Every time I drew in a breath, I could feel another tiny surge of heat. I'd managed to dismiss it until I felt something trickling between my buttocks, and something spreading over my left wrist. The one in between my legs. I didn't look away from the screen though. For some reason I decided to just...carry on working. By now every breath out was a moan, and every breath in was drawn through teeth...and accompanied by more warmth. I suppose the overwhelming sensation of pressure had begun to die down, because it wasn't long before what I felt changed. Initially - I'd been leaking, but...it just kinda felt warm. The only other thing I felt was the pressure from inside. I think that pressure had become so much I couldn't feel anything else - and here's my reason why. I sat leaking for...maybe 3 minutes? Each leak was tiny still, but it didn't feel like relief, or like the pressure was going down. It was like something was just spilling over my crotch and I really had to pee. Which I suppose is kinda true. So it came as a massive surprise to me when this next thing happened. I'd glanced down at myself - my sleeve was damp, my left hand glistened in the light of my essay, and my groin was...soaked. The trackies, as previously mentioned, had turned practically black in a very particular patch, completely surrounding my fist. I withdrew my hand and watched some pale-yellow drips fall off them. I looked back up at the screen and tried to carry on typing. The leaking hadn't stopped - in fact it had become fairly consistent. I didn't feel any relief, but I could feel a very gentle stream begin to chart a course down my thigh, slowly trickling downwards and pooling inside my trackies. I suppose I'd let enough out for the feeling of pressure to drop though. Every breath drawn in had caused a little bit more urine to escape. I bit down on my sleeve and braced myself. I felt myself draw in a rapid, harsh breath of air. At the same time, I felt my bladder contract powerfully, and I felt something hot coursing between my thighs. I heard it hissing as my body furiously began to void my bladder. But I felt relief this time. It was too much to stop now. I'd been holding so long, my muscles begged for a break, my bladder begged for relief, and my brain begged me to work on the essay. I don't know if I made the choice to do this, or if it just kinda happened, but as my bladder was squeezing and urine was jetting out of me...I gave up any resistance. The feedback was immediate. The fierce hiss quickly slowed to a grateful hiss - less powerful but very much audible. A beautiful warmth shot up my back and culminated around my neck with a sort of pleasant tickle - while another beautiful warmth was coursing down my legs. I knew it'd soak into my chair, knew it'd fuck up my carpet - but right now I just wanted to pee. I really wanted to pee - in fact I was enjoying the fact I was currently peeing so much I sighed and slumped back into my chair, grinning through the tears that streaked down my cheeks. I say I sighed, it was more giggling with glee. My entire body was tingling with the relief of letting go. I relaxed my entire body, letting my arms go limp and hang down to my sides. It took a moment before I could hear splashing - mostly because I was making too many other noises. Urine was pouring from my chair and legs, splattering the carpet below. I made no effort to try and stop it either. As the pressure had subsided and been replaced by glee, I slowly got my mind back...but I made a very conscious decision to let myself finish wetting my pants. But I still had that essay to do. Once the initial overwhelming glee wore off, I managed to sit myself up in my chair...which made a squishing noise which turned my legs to jelly. I leaned forward a little more, pushing myself into the cushion, and pushing my bladder just a little harder. I hooked my legs under my chair, catching the streams that had been splattering against my feet, and redirecting them to run down the back of my calves. I wish I could show you the squishing noise the chair was making through text - but there's no way I could do it justice. The wet squelch of the cushioned seat and my sodden trackies as my own piss soaked its way into the very innards of the cushion...I hate how much I enjoyed that bit, cause I think it's ruined my chair. Not that I cared when I was going of course - no, rather I was trying to perfectly position my feet to catch as much urine falling off the chair as possible, letting it soak over my soles, pressing my toes into the carpet for another squish. Sadly, nothing lasts forever, and despite how I had been feeling barely two minutes ago, that was going to include the fathoms of liquid that were currently spilling onto the carpet. At least now I had time to recover.. The absolute wave of relief that had knocked me sideways was now subsiding, leaving me just sitting in my chair, casually emptying my bladder as I tried to catch my breath. I felt it would be appropriate for some reason to touch the area, as if it was going to feel anything aside from really warm, damp, and satisfying...and then I squeezed the trackies. S-still warm urine surged through my fingers as I clenched the fabric, spilling onto the chair. I giggled again - I hadn't fully got my brain back at this point. What I had got however was a pair of very wobbly legs and a warm itching feeling. I hope you don't need me to spell out what that means for you. But of course - I still had that essay. And the clock. And two minutes had become three, and my word count still hadn't moved. Sometimes work has to take priority over pleasure though...but that doesn't mean I couldn't rub my thighs over each other. I didn't do that for long though, I quickly realised I was losing focus on the essay. Since then...I told myself not to drink another coffee until the first draft was done. With half an hour before midnight (and my trackies becoming icy cold) I'd finished writing - poured myself another coffee, and began proof reading. At 23:57 I submitted the essay. I had exactly as much time spare as I'd spent wetting myself. At time of writing it's 00:43. Took me about 20 minutes to type this up. As you ought to remember, I poured myself an extra coffee about an hour ago I finished drinking it about 40 minutes ago. So it makes sense that my bladder's feeling pretty damn full again. Chair's already soaked...carpet too. Wouldn't be any harm if I just... ... ... Oh yeah, that's better.

A long time ago, I made some character drawings that I had always wanted to see in an Omo situation, but also wanted to have a character of their own. And that is why he believes Kayla, a girl of 23, she has a very sensitive bladder, and strong stimuli cause her to quickly lose control of her body, to her bad luck she is tied up while suffering a tickling attack which causes her to wet his pants I hope you like it, and I also want Kayla to just be the first of many more characters

This morning while driving I had the local radio on. There was a breaking news story of a large Coronavirus outbreak at university halls of residence in the nearby city. Students were being told to isolate alone in their rooms and they had a few people calling in. One student called in anonymously saying she was self isolating after a positive test and struggling. The presenter asked if she was short of food or medication or was it the social isolation. ‘No’, replied the student live on air, ‘my biggest problem this morning is that I can only use the shower and toilet on my floor when I am wearing full PPE and I’m still waiting on a delivery! I’ve been waiting almost an hour and really really need the bathroom!’ I felt fit that poor student so much! I hope with the amount of students isolating that that isn’t an ongoing issue as literally hundreds can’t pee without PPE right now! Breaking the rules could mean being told to leave their accommodation which would make them homeless 😢

I have several anecdotes about how I have seen, one of her happened to a friend in high school, she had started doing her social service in a hospital, to be more specific she had to be in the laboratory I imagine that something similar happens to several of here, when it is too cold in a place, the urge to urinate increases considerably The fact is that the laboratory is a very cold place, at first she did not give it so much importance, and I saw how she drank a 1-liter bottle of water, and by the afternoon she looked somewhat desperate to go to the bathroom, but she He refused to use the hospital ones because he felt uncomfortable, so he decided to wait until he got home The departure time arrived, so I decided to wait for them to pass through it, because it was already a bit late, but by that time I was already very desperate, as I was in a place with many people, she tried to hide her despair, but she was already leaking ( at that moment I really wanted to tickle her, to see if she would get wet, but since she didn't like them, I just wanted to) The minutes passed and his mother arrived, who kindly offered to take me home, I accepted since my house was on the way, we both did not go in the back seats, she did it to be able to put her hand on her crotch without being seen by her mother, I come home and say goodbye, that night I sent her a message jokingly, asking if she had arrived on time, and although she managed to get home on time, she lost control of her bladder as soon as she entered the bathroom, while She was taking off her jeans, the urine stain started to grow but she couldn't take off her panties so she had to urinate with them on. I would have liked to see it in person since the girl is very very attractive and has a good butt

This is a catgirl. I made her up and drew these cute pics of her (pose, squirming, and wet). How'd I do? BTW I'm taking name requests for her!

Requesting for videos where a schoolgirl falls asleep during class and pees herself. When she wakes up, she is embarrassed. We remember seeing one where a girl dream peeing in cave and wets herself. We were wondering if anyone had seen any more such free clips and would be so as to kind enough to post them. Please don't post links to premium/paid websites as we cannot afford it. Also please do not advertise your pee-website saying you can do it for a certain price.

So here's a little back ground on the story.So this happened about 4 years ago while I was in high school. There was this teacher who was really hot everyone loved her. We'll call her Mrs. S for privacy reasons. Mrs. S was really really good looking. She was really tall about 6ft and had redish brown hair and bluish green eyes. Her breast was probably DD and her ass was nice. She was a really sweet lady.Me im blonde hair blue eyes. Breast DD and nice ass. Also this particular teachers favorite english student. We'll I decided one day to only empty half of my morning bladder and hold the rest. I started drinking water during first period and I got side tracked with talking and laughing and doing my group project that I had forgotten about my need....and how I was only supposed to drink 1 water not 2! Finally the bell rang and I went to second period. This teacher was known for not letting anyone out to go pee so I should of knew that if things got bad quickly during this period I was screwed except I had forgotten that little part! I went to second period without even thinking and started drinking another water. This particular class was history my favorite class and not because of just the subject....because of the teacher. He was hot. Really hot. Like super model kind of hot. Anyways my friends and I used to annoy him during class by talking and what not just to hear his stern sexy voice get onto us. And this day was no different than the rest or so I thought. My friend C was sitting in the very front row of the class room the second desk in the row from the teachers desk and I was sar directly behind her. That day we had a test so if we started talking during the rest we would get in trouble and be sent to the office to finish the test.Well it was about the middle of the test when suddenly my bladder made itself known. Very known so much so I had to shove my hand between my legs to stop a leak. Around the same time Im not really sure what the hell my friend was thinking but I guess she thought itd be funny to turn around and start talking. That got the teachers attention and even more so when he saw my hand between my legs. He told us both to be quite or the next time we would be in trouble. Well C didn' get the hint and kept talking to me so he sent us to the office. As I got ready to stand up i moved my hand and slowly stood up. Big mistake...i felt some spurts come out and I jammed my hand between my legs and ran to the bathroom across the hall. Frantically pushing on the door. It wouldn' open. Then I realized that I needed a key to get in because it was locked and I knew I wouldn' be given one because I was already in trouble and had been sent to the office so I grabbed myself harder and turned around only to see C standing behind me mouth open. I looked down at my feet as I hurried past her to the office to see if I could get a bathroom key. Much to my horror the principal said no and told me that I would be spending the rest of this period and all of 3rd with him. Which meant no bathroom for me. I sat there for about 5 minutes before C came in. When she came in she sat right next to me but wouldn't look at me. I knew she thought I was weird I just knew it. The principal had instructed us to finish our test no talking and when we was done hed talk to us about our behavior in class. I had so much trouble focusing on my test my bladder was screaming at me for release and there wasn' anything I could do. I hurried up and tried to finish my test but when I was on the last question my bladder spasmed badly and it took both of my hands to stop from flooding my jeans. I gasped loud I guess because I heard the principle tell me to come to his desk immediately without even looking up from his work. I didn't move I just sat there trying to hold the flood back for as long as I could but I knew it wouldn' be long. He called my name but I didn't hear him I was too focused on my bladder and keeping the ocean inside. He finally got up and came over andstood in font of me. That caught my attention. I slowly looked up at him my face red from embarrassment and slightly shaking from holding the ocean inside. He asked me what I was doing I couldn' answer. He asked again. Again I couldn' answer and that' when C spoke up for me. She told him that I needed to pee very badly and that I was about to wet myself. He asked me if that was true and For the first time ever I looked him dead in the eyes and told him yes. Then next thing i knew he was handing me the key to the bathroom but when I got there the door was unlocked when I put the key in so I pushed if open. As soon as I stepped inside I could feel my bladder giving away and I moved as quickly to the first stall and tried to push it open....it didn' open. I tried the 2nd one. Nothing. That's when I saw it them...Mrs.S feet under the door of the first and someone else' under the second. I was screwed. My bladder couldn' hold anymore and I felt myself lose control completely I tried hard to stop it but I couldn' I had too much in me. I just stood there with my eyes closed and wetting myself right outside the toilets. I was startled when I heard Mrs. S say my name. I froze. She said my name again and I finally opened my eyes to see her looking at me concerned. I quickly looked down at the puddle I was standing in and I couldn' help but laugh a little. Mrs. S asked if I was ok and I told her yes just that I had needed the bathroom badly all morning and that I had gotten sent to the office because C wouldn' stop trying to talk to me during 2nd period test even though I didn' talk to her and I got in trouble and was sent to the office. I remember Mrs. S asking why didn' i go and I told her that I had asked but was told no and she said something else to me but I can' remember what but I just remember never looking at her the same way for a few months after and anytime I asked to us the bathroom in her class she was always quick to say yes

Hello everyone, here's a one shot story (that might be continued, depending on your interest in it, my motivation, and mostly time...) that I hope you will like ! A story between a teacher and a student, again (yes, it is my passion !). Let me know if you want this to continue (I have a following part in mind but I'm not sure it's needed). Enjoy ! The mansard room As she looked around her office one last time to check that everything was back in order, Miss Rivers congratulated herself for making this small room such a warmfull place to discuss and study. Added to the ordinary teacher’s desk and chair, there was a large and colourfull carpet, a confortable sofa, two old and patched armchairs and a pile of cushions around a small low table ; on the walls there were two large bookshelves – filled to the brim – and a multitude of pictures, photographs and poems were sticked all around the room. There was a small closet and an only little window. The place was quite dark because of the masard ceiling and the lack of windows but Miss Rivers added a few coloured lamps to make the room welcoming and warm. Unlike her colleagues who prefered to use their personal office as a private place to grade their students’ papers and prepare their lectures qietly, the young teacher chose to share this room with her students so that they could continue to study in a more relaxed atmosphere. She was an english teacher and was teaching a CGSE’s students this year. Her office was mostly dedicated to them because of their important final exam. But this place was also always open for students who needed to talk. She was not a nurse, and made that very clear to her students at the beginning of the year, but she experienced herself some dark moments when she was in school and she never found someone who talk to back then. The funny thing is that she absolutely hated school when she was a student. But she actually discovered the desire to teach when she was experimenting difficulties as a student. Miss Rivers always told herself that if she was not okay with a situation then she would have to try to change it. That’s how she became a teacher, that and her love for literature. Books saved her life and she was absolutely certain that they could save a lot of lost students like she was. As she locked her office’s door, she thought about how she was considered around the school. She arrived two years ago in Harvis school in Porthsmouth and from the very beginning she shooked things up around the place. She was quite unconventional but if it bothered her colleagues at first she was soon respected by her pairs for her resluts with the students. She had an original way to teach, mostly based on discussions, debates and role plays, but she was a very hard worker and everybody could see it. Her students generally loved her because she was very dedicated to them. She didn’t only deeply wanted them to success in school (and tried her best to make them be better everyday) she also wanted, enven deeplier, them to be happy in their life. Her success came from three attributes : to be always optimistic, demanding and strict. As she drove back to her house, she thought about the day. Everything went well, her students worked intensely and she was respecting her schedule : the study of The King Lear was almost finished and they soon would start the reading of Jane Eyre. But she noticed something a bit unusual that day. Victor, one of her CGSE’s students, was working at her office after class with a few students and, as she was grading papers, she noticed that he still looked very lost. He was a transferred student who moved in Porthsmouth two months after the beginning of school, a few weeks earlier. Miss Rivers never had a chance to have a long talk with him and didn’t feel it was necessary until today. He was a serious student and had generally good grades. Until now she thought it was absolutely normal to feel a bit lost in this new town and new school. But students of the class welcomed him very well and he seemed to have made some friends already. However, today he looked distraught. She wanted to talk to him about it tonight but she had to leave the office with some students to sign a paper in the headmaster’s office and when she came back, he was already gone. The weird thing was that Victor seemed to have been waiting for her, letting his friends go back to their home while he was still sitting on the sofa. Miss Rivers was a bit worried. He apparently wanted to talk to her about something and finally decided to run away from her… She felt a pinch of guilt in her stomach. She felt that she had neglected the boy, stressing him about the months he had lost and that he had to catch up rather than seriously asking him how he was feeling. As she arrived home, she promised herself to have a private chat with Victor after class the day after. She woke up very early the morning after. As usual, she forgot some papers she promised herself she would grade for today’s class. She was used to go to school a few hours in advance, she loved to look at the sun rise up from her little window’s office. When she arrived at school, she enjoyed the silence floating along the empty corridors and regain happily the third and last floor of the building, where her small office was situated. She looked for her keys into her handbag and opened the door. As she turned on the yellow lamp on her desk, she startled as she noticed a large form on the sofa, hidden under a blanket (a blanket she kept in the closet for cold evenings). She tried to calm her heartbeats while stepping slowly to the sofa and almost stratled again as she recognized her student Victor’s hair and forehead. Neither the sound of the door opening nor the light on seemed to have waken him up. She frowned and stopped her instinctive hand from wakening the boy. How did he ended up here ? How could she had not noticed her presence after locking up last night ? Why didn’t he say he was still in the room ? Did he tell his parents he wasn’t going home ? She could not stop the flow of questions. This was the first time something like this ever happened to her. What should she do ? Realizing that his family could be sickly worried by now, she stopped thinking and decided to act quickly. With deep precaution, she kneeled next to the sofa and put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. « Victor ? » she asked softly. « Victor ? You have to wake up. » The boy frowned but didn’t open his eyes. She shook gently his shoulder and repeated her request. The young boy opened his eyes and Miss Rivers could notice a glow of panick in his gaze as he looked at her. He quickly closed his eyes firmly and moaned with distress. « Victor, look at me. What are you doing here ? » she asked with incomprehension. Victor didn’t answer. It seemed to Miss Rivers that he simply couldn’t talk. And before she could insist, she saw her student hide his face behind his hands. He was bursting into tears, violent sobs shaking him up. « It’s all right, Victor. I’m not mad at you. Calm down, dear. » she said, trying to make the kid stop crying. She was completely unarmed facing this15 years’ old boy crying like a little child. She faced a lot of tears since she started teaching but she never exeperienced this kind of cry. It was far from the usual break up sorrow or the usual fight between friends’ tears. No, this one was deep and juvenile. And she didn’t know how to deal with this. « Victor, you have to calm down, everything is fine. I promise. » she insisted. But it didn’t work. The boy was still crying, his face red and wet from the tears. As she was going to give up and stand up to call his parents, he grabbed the hand she had layed down on his shoulder. She suddenly understood that, for the first time in her life, words would not be enough to help or save her student. « Come here, my dear. I’m not going anywhere. » she said as she sat on the sofa and opened her arms. The boy let himself completely go into his teacher’s arms, but as soon as Miss Rivers hands touched his back, Victor fell back onto the sofa, hidding his face in his hands. It took a second to Miss Rivers to understand the sudden change in the boy’s attitude. She looked at her fingers with incomprehension as she noticed they were wet. The boy had peed himself. As he went to school this morning, Victor had decided he would not go back to his house, never. His dad had made the decision to come to Porthsmouth, Victor didn’t say anything, agreeing to do anything that could make his dad normal again. Despite the difficulty to leave his friends, his school and his house, he was willing to help his family to become a normal one. He was working hard at school to catch up from his late arrival, he was making new friends and was always smiling at home even when there was absolutely no reason to. As usual, he was okay to be the pillar of the family. But now, his dad went too far… He found his father in the basement drinking whiskey again, last night. He promised Victor he would stop. The teen was not okay to be the only one doing effort. He felt like his dad was giving up on him, again. So Victor made up his mind as he went to school this morning. He would drop off school to work and become independent. He had no need for an alcoholic father and made very clear these past six years that he was absolutely able to take care of his own. To make sure that nobody would have a clue about his plans of leaving school and his house, he acted normal all day. He worked seriously, ate at the cafeteria for lunch and even laughed with some friends. But he made a mistake by letting his friends convince him to come and work at Miss Rivers office after school… Miss Rivers was the only teacher he ever really liked. She was the only one who gave him the impression that she really looked at him, not only as a student but as a person. He never had been to Miss Rivers office and knew it was his last chance to experience the warm little office that evening. When he entered the room he felt a huge sensation of warmth in his stomach. The place was so welcoming, colourfull and soft. He suddenly felt his determination to leave the school melt. He followed his comrades and sat down at the sofa after greeting Miss Rivers, already installed at her desk. The group of young people was studying quietly while the teacher was grading papers. Victor was finding very difficult to play his role of normal student. He couldn’t concentrate, his mind was filled with doubts. His friends didn’t realize his distress, he didn’t have to worry. But as he rose his head from his blank piece of paper he realized that Miss Rivers was looking directly at him. Her gaze was full of worry and compassion. After an interminable gaze, she finally smiled at him with an incredible softness. Victor could not repress his cheeks to blush a little as he lowered his head. He had the horrible impression that she found out what he was planning to do… It seemed that nothing could be hidden from Miss Rivers, as if she was able to feel people’s emotions. As time went by, Victor realized that he couldn’t go back to his house to look at his dad getting drunk. He just couldn’t. He would have to find a place to stay. Anywhere but with this shameless alcoholic, he said to himself. He didn’t think about Miss Rivers’ office until the last minute. At 6 o’clock, when his friends were closing their backpacks to go home, it hit him. Why wouldn’t he stay here ? He could wait in the closet for Miss Rivers to go home and get out of the office early in the morning. No one would ever know he was here ! He closed his backpack as well but stayed in the office, telling his friends he wanting to talk to Miss Rivers in private. His friends didn’t insist and went out, accompanied by Miss Rivers who had to do administrative stuff. Victor thought it was a perfect timing and a a unique chance. He waited to hear the voices of his friends and teacher disappear in the stairs before taking his bag and coat to go hide in the closet. It was a very small one and even with his flexible body, Victor had to fold himself. He could feel his heart beat fast. What if Miss Rivers opens the closet ? What if she decides to sleep here ? He asked himself. He couldn’t bare the humiliation of Miss Rivers finding him in here nor would he survive a night in this akward and painful position. He retained his breath and tried not to make a noise as he heard Miss Rivers coming back. He could hear her preparing her satchel and putting the room back in order. After a second of silence he heard the office door closing. But then he heard a noise he didn’t expect, the sound of a key turning into a keyhole. He never expected the office could be locked. Miss Rivers repeated everyday that his office was always open… How could he have been so naive ? Of course it could be locked, it was just a figure of speech ! He bit his lips as he realized in what mess he was. He couldn’t get out. And Miss Rivers would see him in the morning. How could he have been so damn stupid ? After a moment of self flogging, he decided to get out of his painful hiding place and went back to the room. Looking around he thought that if it was his last time in this school at least it was the best place he would have been sleeping in for years. He decided to do his homework and tried not to think about his growing anger. He finished a bottle of water that was in his bag and tried to convince himself that water was filling the stomach as much as a plate of pasta. When he finished his homework it was 7 o’clock. He went through the bookshelves and tried to find a book to think about something else but his rumbling stomach, Moby Dick. He got a blanket out of the closet, lied down on the sofa and started to read. The book seemed to be fascinating because Victor didn’t even feel his bladder hurting until a rather desperate point. After 72 pages, he realized that he was moving his legs nervously. He stopped reading and felt a hard pinch in his bladder. He really had to pee and didn’t even realize it. Or maybe he just ignored it because he knew there was no way out. He looked at his watch, 8.33. His best solution was to try to fall asleep, that way he wouldn’t feel the pain and could wait until the morning after. He installed himself confortably in the sofa and went back to his reading. When he felt his eyelids fall, he turned off the light, put a hand around his crotch and let himself go through the night. Victor was a very mature kid for his age, he knew it. He had to face so many traumas and difficulties since his mom died six years ago that he was almost an adult now. But when he woke up in sweat, his hands desperately grabbing his crotch, his heart beating fast, he didn’t feel adult at all. On the contrary, he felt like a very little child. A rapid glance at his watch made him realize that it was only 1 o’clock. The room around him was dark and filled with silence. He sat back on the sofa and turned on the light beside him. « Fuck ! » he said, desperate. He felt a small patch of pee on his briefs as he woke up. He couldn’t admit that he had peed his pants during his sleep. And that apparently he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. After a moment of fidgeting on the sofa, he decided to walk around the room. He had hope that movement would calm down his urgent need. But as soon as he got up on his feet he felt a few drops coming down his penis and wetting his briefs. He moaned and squeezed his penis tighter. He sat back on the sofa, feeling incapable to put a foot in front of the other. He was keeping his legs crossed and both his hands were clutching his penis. Victor was still hoping that he could wait for Miss Rivers returns. He was absolutely incapable of picturing him having an accident in his pants, it was morifying. But he could feel his legs shaking and tears coming up in his eyes. He was feeling so weak right now. « Aaah ! » Victor cried as he felt a long spurt coming out of his penis and wetting his bum. He could feel his briefs completely soaked and his trousers getting wet. « Oh no ! The sofa ! I wet the sofa ! » he murmured, horrified. He let go of one hand to touch the sofa and check the mess he had done but as soon as he got off his penis he felt a succession of spurts coming out. Pssss. Pssss. Pssssss. He could hear the hissing noise of his pee wetting his bum and his upper thighs. He was soaked and so was the sofa. But apparently his bladder wasn’t done yet. He tried to regain control and grabbed his penis with violence, his legs moving furiously. He suddenly realized that he had an empty bottle of water in his bag ! If only he could stop himself from peeing in his pants and empty his bladder in the bottle, Miss Rivers would see just a little accident. At that moment, it appeared to Victor that it would be less morifying to have peed himself a little than completely. As if it would show that he was not a complete little kid but only half one... The only problem was that in order to get his bag, he would have to let go of his crotch again… Would he managed to do it without wetting himself completely ? He asked himself with worry. He tried to detached one hand of his crotch, finger by finger. When he arrived at the middle finger, Victor felt a long spurt telling him he could not win the war against his bladder. His trousers were now wet on half his thighs. Letting go a tear of rage he realized that he had to get his legs back into the sofa if he didn’t want to wet the carpet too… By doing so he was saying an absolute goodbye to his empty bottle and by that an absolute goodbye to his pride. It was so humiliating to prepare himself to pee in the bed. But he had to face it, he couldn’t do anything more. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let go of his crotch. He couldn’t bare the idea of peeing himself volontarily. He kept his legs crossed and his hands tightened as he felt spurts multiplying, longer and longer. After every spurt, Victor squizzed stronger his penis but in vain. He could not hold it any longer. He was peeing himself as a little child. After a few minutes of fight against his need, a final long and continued spurt of pee went down his penis, his bum, his legs, his feet. During the last minute of peeing, Victor cried silently, trembling in shame. The battle against his desperation lasted 15 minutes. 15 minutes of torture. The result was a wet teenager and a wet sofa. Victor couldn’t believe what just happened. The morning before, he was proudly saying that he was absolutely capable of being independent and there he was, crying and trembling in his own pee. He had peed himself ! He could not believe that he acted as a little boy. He acted as if he was 9 again. He acted as if his mother would come and tell him « it’s all right »… After a long time of crying, he finally fell asleep, forgetting where he was and what he would have to confront in the morning. His night battle had left him so tired that he didn’t hear his teacher coming into the room at 6.30 this morning nor was he disturbed by the light on. It was only when he heard Miss Rivers’ soft voice calling his name that he realized where he was and what happened. As soon as he met Miss Rivers gaze, he closed his eyes in shame and apprehension. It hit him, he had peed himself last night. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He couldn’t bare the shame in front of his favourite teacher. He felt his tears coming out, sobs hurting his throat. It was the first time he felt so weak since his mum had passed away. But when he felt Miss Rivers getting away from him, he got so afraid that she would never came back that he couldn’t refrain himself from grabbing his hand. Where was his independence, for god’s sake ? He asked himself while firmly taking his teacher’s hand. Not only his pants were a mess, his head too. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was doing the opposite of what he wanted to. He wished to be an adult but acted like a child… He felt himself fall desperately into his teacher’s arms. But as soon as he felt his teacher’s hands around him, he remebered his noticeable accident. Feeling absolutely mortified, he fell back into the sofa, hiding himself with his hands. She would know now. She would know that her 15 years’old student had peed himself on her lovely sofa. After a few seconds of silence, Victor felt arms grabbing him. Miss Rivers had grabbed him and was hugging him softly, repeating the same wonderful sentence. « It’s all right, dear. It’s over. » They stayed in the soft silence only interrupted by Miss Rivers’ voice, repeating the same sentence over and over until Victor’s tears dry completely. (To be continued or not – if I have the time and motivation...)