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  1. Greetings everyone! I've been on and off this site for the last couple years, mainly just for story writing purposes. I've had new ideas and passions coming and going, not to mention some serious writers block, moving states, and having my old laptop die on me. I've settled, bought a new one, and have been writing for NanoWimo this month. The story I was working on just didn't have the flow I wanted to and to see if I could jog anything, I went reading through some of my older work. Master and Servant was one of the longest stories I'd ever written and I about punched myself when I realized how long I'd left it, and the way I'd left it unfinished. I've been thinking it over for a few days, and I realized that I really want to give it a proper ending. There are things I would change and do differently, so I decided the only fair thing to do was to give it another try and re-write it. Let me know what you guys think, I want to hear feedback and ideas to help grow and change as a writer...especially one who indulges a pissing fetish ? Hope you guys enjoy! The first chapter is a long one, reader beware! Ch. 1: Let the Games Begin Hermione Granger could pinpoint the exact date and time when her little habit had formed. She was eleven years old, the second Tuesday of November that year. On Halloween she’d been trapped in the girl’s loo and nearly had her head taken off by a troll. Since then, she found that every time she tried to use one of the girl’s toilets, her heart began to pound in her chest and her bladder quiver in her belly. She would rather, and many times nearly did, release its contents right outside the door than go inside. The fear she had was terrible, making her feel cold, clammy, and sick every time she so much as thought as going to the ladies’ room. It led to hours of agony, holding her water in her belly until it ached, only letting her pee flow when she was safe inside her dorm at Gryffindor Tower. Many times, she’d barely made it there, but letting all she held inside always felt so, so good. She would sit there on the porcelain throne, or stand in front with her legs spread wide the times she was a little too late, and her urine would spray from her like a waterfall. The agony would end, replaced with a euphoria so great she would moan and tremble. Oddly enough, she preferred it the times where her need was just a little too desperate. When her belly would throb, and her pee would spurt into her panties before she was even in her dorm, sending tendrils of urine down her thighs as she hurried up the stairs to her place of salvation. The times where she had her hands between her legs, skirt soaking up the constant bursts of wet heat from between her legs as she opened the bathroom door. What choice did she have but to let go right there in front of the toilet? She would moan as her pee soaked her panties, her skirt, her socks and shoes…the puddle would be so massive that the only thing that saved her from utter humiliation was her ability to perform advanced cleaning spells. As the days since the troll attack wore on, the number of accidents she had in front of the toilet grew. She liked it more, she admitted secretly to herself, to feel the pee burst uncontrollably down her legs. Once, she’d held it far too long and had an absolutely glorious pee right in the corridor on the second floor near the library. Another time, when the toilet had been occupied and she was already bursting, she crawled into bed and pissed the blankets until the were sopping. She laid there, panting in the wetness, realizing how badly she liked it. It gave her such pleasure to pee herself, made her girlhood tingle in ways she never had felt before. And, being a witch of inquisitive mind, she endeavored to explore these new pleasures. She let her experiments move from the privacy of the bathroom, or her bed, and out into the castle. Over the years, she learned her limits and pushed them, holding for hours until she burst. She learned places in the castle, or on the grounds, where she could pee unseen. That was always her favorite, to pee in the open. The fantasy that someone could happen upon her, even though she took precautions against it, gave her more pleasure than when she first discovered she liked to wet her knickers. She learned, as all teenage girls do, the best ways to give her body the pleasure it craved. She noticed that craving enhance greatly as her bladder filled, and it opened up new avenues for wetting and for pleasure. However, the last thing she ever expected was to be discovered. ***** Draco Malfoy had never paid Hermione Granger much mind. She was Mudblood, of little consequence. But, one day after Halloween their first year, he noticed something peculiar about the girl. They were in History of Magic, where minds tended to wander, and students fell asleep. His father would never allow the latter, but a wandering mind was something he just could not help in such a dull subject. He was thinking on its dullness when movement caught his eye. Granger was two rows up, at the corner desk, and she couldn’t sit still. It always gave Draco a secret, naughty, thrill of pleasure to see his classmates squirm the way Hermione Granger was squirming. He knew immediately what it was for and why, and always secretly wished to see a golden puddle form under their chairs. The girl had his full attention for the rest of the lesson. The way she tapped her feet, wiggled her hips, and crossed her legs. It was a perfect potty dance going unnoticed by anyone but him. She clearly had to go quite badly, he realized with a thrill, as by the end of the lesson she was holding herself and rocking in her seat. Why she didn’t just raise her hand to be excused was beyond him. Binns never cared if students asked. In fact, students often asked to use the toilet and just never came back. But then, Draco realized that he’d never seen her ask to use the toilet. She was such a little know-it-all that she’d never waste precious class time with something as inane as emptying her bladder. At least, that was what he assumed. Class ended with her dry, much to Draco’s displeasure and he left with his friends to his next class, one he shared with the Ravenclaws. He supposed Hermione would rush to the toilet, barely making it in time to pull her knickers down even though it was just across the hall. Maybe they would even be a little wet by the time she did. He found his thoughts drifting back to her potty dance throughout the day, feeling a nagging itch he didn’t quite know how to answer. He never imagined that by dinner, the squirming girl would catch his attention again. He almost missed his mouth with his fork when he spotted her across the Great Hall. She was pale, a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead, her whole body tight and trembling. There was no way she was still holding it all in, there couldn’t be. It had been hours since History of Magic, and she’d been about to burst. And yet, there she was, shaking with obvious need. How her friends or anyone else in the room wasn’t noticing was beyond him. He had to get a closer look, and tormenting Potter and Weasley would provide the perfect opportunity. He glanced at the Teacher’s Table, grinning to see them occupied in some discussion, and got up from his dinner to saunter over to the Gryffindor Table. “Well, well, well,” he drawled “Potter. Congratulations on defeating a Mountain Troll. I have to wonder, what were you doing in a Girls’ Loo to fight it? Already turning into a peeper, are you?” Harry and Ron both went red with embarrassment and anger, immediately firing off their mouths with blundering threats of physical abuse. He cared little for their tirade, he was watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye. And oh, what a treat. She was absolutely busting, legs tightly crossed and holding herself discretely under her skirt, her robe hiding the action. He could see it though, because he was looking for it. She was rocking back and forth, subtly and watching the argument with increasing worry. Was she worried, he wondered, that her friends would be in trouble or was it that she was about to pee her panties right there at the table? He smirked, and drawled more careless insults, lengthening her agony. Her fidgeting increased, rocking fast and uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. She bent forward a little, and he noticed how much paler she’d gotten. He’d have gone on at length, insulting Harry’s dead mother and Ron’s fat one, except that Professor McGonagall had started in their direction. He wrapped it up and continued off, disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to see Hermione lose it. He left the Great Hall, intending on heading to the library so he could finish up a little homework without Crabbe and Goyle pestering him. He didn’t see Hermione leave just behind him, but he did hear a horrified gasp in the corridor as headed toward the staircase. Being tucked behind a stone wall, he peeked back behind him to see its cause. It was Christmas! Hermione Granger was standing in the middle of the empty corridor, hands between her legs and frozen stiff. His stomach did excited backflips as he watched her tremble. “Oh no…! Oh no oh no…” she whimpered, dancing back and forth on the red carpet. Her thighs pressed together, hands clenching tight between her legs. Draco felt his face flush, cold shivers trembling through him as he watched. She was going to do it. She was actually going to have an accident. “Ah…ah..!” Hermione gasped, looking down in horror as her legs snapped apart, putting an end to her dance. Pssssssssssssstt….! Her water thundered in the corridor, spraying so hard into the carpet that it bounced back and splashed onto her shoes. “Aaaahhh….” Hermione sighed as she flooded the hall, her skirt and the carpet darkening as her thick golden stream only continued to flow. How could one person, one little girl, possibly hold so much liquid inside her? Either way, Draco loved the look on her face. She liked it, she really liked it. It felt good to let all that pee out…It must have been over two minutes that she emptied herself when the torrent turned into a little trickle and then stopped. Hermione trembled on weak knees, pulling her wand out to clean her lake and her skirt. She sighed, looking all around before heading forward toward the stairs. That was strange to him. What normal girl holds her bladder all day long until she’s bursting, has the biggest accident in the universe in the middle of the hall, and just shrugs it off? He had assumed she would have at least started to cry. Either way, Hermione Granger had marked herself as interesting, and he decided to pay her some special attention. He wasn’t left disappointed over the next week. He watched her closely, and she never once went to the toilets during the day. She would drink at all her meals and spend the day fidgeting and holding until she was bursting. He never saw her wet again that week, but he had put together at the very least the only place she peed was in the Gryffindor Tower. She would always go there directly when she found her limit. It became an obsession to him, over the years, watching her most secret moments. He followed her around the castle and the grounds, whenever she ducked into her hidden places. From abandoned halls and classes, quiet courtyards on the grounds, she would always piss the ocean that had been held up inside her. She never, ever went to the toilet. It led to two conclusions, the first being that Hermione Granger did this on purpose. She liked to wet herself, and around thirteen the fact she’d started to pleasure herself after or during her wets made that conclusion obvious. The second was that Draco himself took no higher pleasure than watching her displays. How perverse on both accounts, he mused as he filled a Pocket Pensive he’d purchased over the summer before 4th year with his memories of her pleasured wettings. With the thrill of the World Cup passing, it was the thought of the coming year that made him giddy. Hermione had wet herself running from the Death Eaters, he was almost certain. When Harry and his friends had rushed into the clearing he’d been waiting in. He’d sassed them, watching how Hermione danced in the background, then doubled over. They never noticed how pee sprayed down against the ground, they were too angry at him or horrified at the treatment of muggles. But he’d seen. And better, Hermione’s eyes had locked with his when it happened. She knew he’d seen. He had something on her, and he knew what he wanted to do with it. All he needed was to catch her one more time, and he knew just how to do it. **** Admittedly, Hermione was worried Draco would have laughed at her right there in the clearing, pointing out her accident to her friends. The fact he hadn’t made her increasingly worried. There was no way he hadn’t noticed. He’d stared right at her as she soaked her jeans. It hadn’t been her intention to wet like that, but the Death Eaters had attacked right before she could slip into the woods and soak herself in private. It wasn’t her fault, or Draco’s really, that he’d seen her. Still, going into the next year with knowing he’d seen her and nothing to resolve it made her uneasy. But what was she to do? It’s not like she could confront him and ask him not to tell anyone she’d wet her pants. She saw him at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters boarding the train with his friends. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zambini, and Theodore Nott were all in a group and chatting. They all leered at Harry as they walked by, but none looked at her. None except Draco. Heat tinted her cheeks and she looked away. He definitely had seen, but he hadn’t shared it with his friends. Why? Something so embarrassing would be fuel for the other Slytherins, and even the fussier Ravenclaws who hated her for her high grades. He had no issue tormenting Harry all last year for only fainting when Dementors came near. The whole of Slytherin house at the very least should have been laughing at her by now. They found their compartments on the train and Hermione felt a surge of need pulse in her bladder. Oh no she thought, already sitting next to the window as the train gave a loud horn blow, signaling its departure. She’d planned to empty her bladder before they got on the train, there were so many little hide aways in Kings Cross to do it. But she’d been caught up in conversation and then caught up in her anxieties when she saw Malfoy. There’d been no time for her to sneak back off the train and hide behind the information booth for the Hogwarts Express. She could have let loose there and got back on the train with no one the wiser… Her bladder throbbed again and she shifted in her seat. She couldn’t outright hold herself and dance like she needed to as her full bladder continued to give her signals. She, Harry, and Ron were all talking seriously about the Dark Mark and the show of Death Eaters at the World Cup. Harry admitted he’d been having nightmares and pains in his scar. This was no time for her bladder to be begging for relief. She suggested Harry write to Sirius, if only to ease his worries and give him something to do while she trembled with need. It was so bad…she had to go so bad. As Harry pulled out pen and parchment, a sudden burst of heat warmed her panties. Hermione bit her lower lip, pressing her thighs together, but with everyone in the room it was all she could do to hold the flood back. It wasn’t quite enough. Another burst of pee bloomed in her knickers again, then another, and another, and another. Her thighs were wet and she felt the seat cushion she was sitting on grow wet. Thankfully, she’d had the sense to pull her skirt out from under her when she felt her needs grow urgent. It was soaking her liquid well, but it wouldn’t hold it all. If she fully lost control, everything would run down the front of the bench and puddle on the floor. Ron and Harry would see, they’d know…She bit the inside of her cheek as another trickle of pee soaked into the seat. She had to get up and find somewhere on the train, and now. “I’ll be right back” Hermione said, not giving a reason but her company didn’t much mind. She set her newspaper on her seat, hiding the stain there, and headed out of the compartment. She dared to give herself a little squeeze once she was alone. The only place that came to mind was the baggage car, they were closer than the toilets were. She hurried down to the end of the train, paling as she felt more spurts of pee warm her wet panties, trickles running down her legs. She hoped she was moving too fast through the students going from compartment to compartment, visiting this friend and that, for anyone else to notice. By the time she had shut herself in the baggage car, she was leaking constantly. “Oh my God, oh my God…!” she squealed, her hand buried in her skirt, wetness soaking through it and wetting her hand. “My, my, my,” Drawled an all too familiar voice. Shock and panic made her moans of need die in her throat. She even stopped wetting for a moment. Draco Malfoy was sitting on top of the first group of trunks, grinning from ear to ear. “M-Malfoy, what are you…?! Ah..Oh..!” she questioned, legs quivering as her bladder throbbed, another stream dribbling out. She crossed her legs, both hands clenching into her girlhood to stop the flow. “Looks like someone really needs a wee,” Draco smirked, “why don’t you just do what you did at the World Cup? You needed a wee then, too.” “N-no I can’t…What’re you doing in here, I…Aah..haaa….oh Merlin…” Hermione was doing her best to avoid the inevitable, but another burst a pee soaked down her legs, sprinkling onto the metal floor below her. Draco’s grin got even wider. “Looks like you can, and you’re already doing it,” he smirked, “Why don’t you let it all out, hm? It’ll feel so good…Doesn’t it always just feel so good, Granger?” How did he know? Why did he know? What was going on? She could hardly string two thoughts together while her bladder burned in her belly and her heart pounded with anxiety in her chest. She couldn’t pee in front of Draco Malfoy! She just couldn’t! But…oh she couldn’t help it anymore. Her bladder was so past its limit, and every little dribble felt so good like he said… “Aah…ahh..! I can’t…I can’t hold it!” she cried out, gasping with shock and shame as a strong torrent of pee burst into her skirt, splashing loudly onto the metal. “Oh no!” she cried again when another burst through her fingers, then another. She was peeing right there, in front of Malfoy and pleasure was still coiling in her belly. He smirked wider and she completely lost it with a cry, a wave of pleasure crashing through her as a full gush of pee released. It was hot and fast and her muscles felt like jelly, unable to clench against the flood. Psssshhhh…! The sound echoed loudly as her pee splashed against the metal, puddling around her. “Aah…haa….ahhhhhh…” she gasped, gulping air as she sighed with relief. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to watch the grin Draco eyed her with. Her release felt too good to worry with him for the moment. Minutes past and she still released her water until only a trickle remained. For long moments more, the only sound between them was a soft dripping from her soaked panties and skirt into the massive puddle she made. Draco adjusted his pants and jumped down off the trunks, giddy as he splashed into the puddle below. The sound made Hermione jump. She looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes. “Looks like that felt real good, Granger,” he smirked, “you like wetting your knickers, don’t you?” “I…” she started, the haze of relief fading from her eyes, replaced with a narrowed look, gulping a touch, “Look…I didn’t mean…I really had to go…The toilets had a line, and…” “Oh spare me,” Draco scoffed, cutting her off “you’ve been holding it till you burst since first year. You never piss in the loo like a normal person. You find places you think you’re alone and flood the place.” Hermione’s jaw nearly joined her puddle on the floor. “How do you..? How could you possibly…!?” “You were never alone as you thought you were,” he smirked “I’ve been watching the whole time.” “You…you sick pervert!” she snapped, snarling as her hand went to her wand. “Now, now,” he said, pulling his own faster, “there’s no need for that. I’m not going to tell anyone.” “Why?” she demanded, wand still in hand. “I want to play a little game,” he said “and I think you’d like to play too.” “And why’s that?” she growled. “Because you like to pee yourself, and I like to watch,” he grinned “I’m not going to let you watch me pee!” she snapped “I’ve been watching,” he said “and if you won’t play along, I’ll let everyone know.” “You fucking—” “Oh, such language from Little Miss Perfect,” he laughed “Shut up!” she snapped, sparks flying out of her wand. Draco flicked his own, his disarming spell finding its mark since she was so enraged. “Listen here,” he said “I have a whole Pensive of memories of you pissing your panties and diddling off in the wet. If you don’t agree, everyone will see it and think you’re the sick pervert. Do you understand?” “Blackmailing little shit,” she growled, hands balling at her sides. He just chuckled, not caring at all. “So,” he continued, “I want to play a little game…lets call it Master and Servant.” “If you think for one minute I’m going to serve you like some maid, you’ve got another thing coming!” she snapped “Oh please, I have house elves for that,” he said, noting her enraged expression with pleasure, “No, no…but I’m going to be the master of your bladder. I want you to come and get me if you need a wee, and you’ll only get to go if I say so. If not, or if you have an accident, you’re in for a punishment. How’s that sound?” “That sounds terrible! You sick pervert, I’ll never agree to this!” “Well, obviously I’d want you to agree,” he mused “but if you don’t I have the blackmail. Either way I get what I want. But before you get too angry, think it over. You like pissing yourself. You love it, I’d dare to say. And I like to watch you do it. How many guys do you think are gonna be into that? Most people would think that’s perfectly disgusting.” Hermione scowled, crossing her arms. She hated that he had a point. And she had, very secretly, wished someone would watch her. Take pleasure in her pleasure, watching her pee. Maybe even let her sit on a lap as her bladder burst…She swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. “So,” she said tersely “you’re saying that if I do as you ask, you won’t tell anyone I wet myself?” “No indeed,” he smiled, “I’d rather let this play out for as long as I’m interested.” “And when you’re bored?” she asked “Well, if you play along nicely, I may not tell everyone you’re filthy girl that likes to piss her knickers,” he smiled wickedly. Hermione huffed, considering her options. She didn’t have many. She was a wet mess, caught in her own puddle by none other than one of the nastiest brats Hogwarts held within its castle walls. And yet…she found his offer strangely appealing. “You swear you won’t say anything if I play along?” she asked “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he grinned. Hermione’s scowl grew, her foot tapping impatiently in her puddle as she mulled it over. “I want some conditions,” she said, making Draco grin wider. “Like what?” “I don’t want to wet where others will see it,” she said, “you can see, but that’s it.” “Fine,” he agreed, “anything else?” “I’m not going to do anything…sexual as a punishment,” she said, heat tinting her cheeks. “Ugh,” Draco scoffed “no, you misunderstand. I still hate you. I still think you’re disgusting Mudblood. I’d never touch you or have any type of feelings. I just like watching you piss.” “Good,” Hermione said coolly, “that was going to be my third condition.” Draco had to laugh at her gumption, hands going into his pockets. She really was something, standing there in a puddle with pissed panties and a wet skirt, so defiant. It was part of the reason she was so very interesting. “So, you agree?” he asked triumphantly. “I agree,” she said with an irritated huff, “but you better not go back on your word or I’ll hex you so hard you’ll have to eat through a straw for the rest of your life!” He laughed again, such a fierce little thing! He liked this situation very much. “Now, now, that’s no way to talk to your Master…” “If you think I’m gonna call you that—” “I do, and you will, or Draco, or else you’re gonna get punished.” She scowled. “Fine, Draco…” she growled, “if you’re through, I’m going back to my compartment.” “Dripping wet?” he smirked, making her blush. Before she could retrieve her wand from where his spell had flung it, he cast his own cleaning charms. Her panties warmed and dried between her legs, her socks and skirt as well. The puddle followed next and it was like it never happened. “There, now you can’t say I’m not a nice master, can you?” he teased, moving to grab her wand for her. She snatched from his hand and turned heel, her bushy hair smacking him in the face. “One more thing” he said before she opened the door, “make sure you order a fizzy pumpkin juice from the trolley, and drink at least four goblets at dinner. Don’t pee before you go to bed, and meet me on the fourth floor, the unused classroom near the Charms classroom. You know the one, you piss in there when you’ve overheld it.” “Fine!” she snapped, reddening when he mentioned a favorite wetting spot of hers. The knowledge unnerved her, adding fact to the story he told. She stormed out of the baggage car, fuming with anger. Draco was left chuckling at his own brilliant idea and took a long moment to reward himself with a little pleasure, fueling it with her most recent release.
  2. Master and Servant ***Draco/Hermione: Draco notices Hermione's aversion to school bathrooms and decides to play a little game...*** ((Hey guys! I know its been AGES since I posted anything on here, but I was recently inspired to start writing again! Let me know what you think! Personally this a fun project for me and I'm writing the second chapter right now :) Leave your comments, questions, concerns at the bottom, they're greatly appreciated! )) Chapter 1: Origins of the Game The very first time Draco ever saw Hermione Granger wet herself was in their first year, on the second Tuesday in November. It seemed like, ever since she'd nearly been murdered in one on Halloween, Little Miss Mudblood had developed a fear of using any of the school bathrooms outside her dormitory. He'd caught on to her little phobia, or at least realized the issue itself, by watching her; purely by accident of course. It wasn't his fault that she was always seated directly in front of him for all the classes they shared, but it did provide a perfect vantage point for watching her squirm during their lessons. At first, he'd figured she was too much of a brianiac to take a few minutes from class to ask for the loo, but then he'd noticed she'd never be among the group of girls that always went together after each lesson was over. No, she'd go class to class, squirming and fidgeting and dancing all the more in each one until the end of the day. It was a wonder her friends hadn't noticed—No, nevermind. Her friends were the biggest bunch of dunderheads Hogwarts had ever seen, of course they wouldn't have noticed. Regardless, at the end of the day she'd always announce an urgent need for a book, some parchment, a quill, or the library and rush off before Potty and Weasel could say anything else. Draco wouldn't see her again till dinner, but he always noted she was no longer dancing. Draco hadn't any idea why he was so facinated with the girl's need for the toilet. He supposed it had something to do with how rediculous it seemed to hold it like that all day long, despite having plenty of time to go between classes. But whatever, what the stupid girl did with her body wasn't any of his buisness...except that, very, very privately, he wished she'd oversetimate her bladder one day and have an accident. The more this thought lingered, and grew stronger every time he watched Hermione squirm in class, the more he knew he absolutely had to see it. So, on that second Tuesday in November, Draco Malfoy had come up with a most ingenious plan to watch Hermione Granger wet her panties. On this day in particular, he knew they had double potions directly after lunch. He also knew that Hermione always left lunch early when she could, presumably for the toilet in Gryffindor tower, so he couldn't let that happen. It was all too easy for him to convince Crabbe and Goyle to ignore their food to go and pester the Gryffindorks. His taunts, as always, were geared toward Potter, but he was watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Oh yes, he noted with glee, she definitely had been planning on running off to the loo before he came over. Her lips were pursed and she kept shooting anxious looks toward the door. Ah, but she couldn't leave, now could she? Not with her two idiot friends in the middle of a could-be fight. Draco harrassed the lot of them until Weasley damn near jumped over the table to take a swing (this earned a sharp “Sit down, Ron!” from Hermione) and Draco smirked, the bell for class ringing just in time. He noted how distressed she looked as he sauntered off to the dungeons. Double potions proved to be extremely entertaining that day. Snape had barely finished the lecture before Hermione started to fidget. Making the actual potion made him almost snicker with glee as he watched her try to squirm descretely and chop up her ingrediants at the same time. They filled their cauldrons with water, Draco making sure to do his especially loud behind her, and she was crossing her legs. Draco smirked, watching her every movement. It would spoil his plans a bit if she lost it in the middle of potions, but seeing her humiliated in class like that, especially Snape's class, wasn't a bad consolation prize. Still, he watched her squirm during the making of the potion and she was, almost regrettably, still dry when Snape dismissed the class. No matter, they still had History of Magic before their lessons were done, one more hour of class. Hermione was probably thankful, Draco had figured, that Potter and Weasley had fallen asleep during this particular lesson. Even they would have noticed something was troubling their princess know-it-all had they been awake. Hermione Granger could not sit still, not even for a minute. She rocked in her seat, crossed and uncrossed and then recrossed her legs, bounced on her bottom, and at one point even put her hand between her legs to hold herself. Draco's blood was pounding, excitement he assumed from finally being able to see her have an accident, the entire time he watched her. With ten minutes to go in History of Magic, and Hermione still dissapointingly dry, Draco was starting to lose hope. Maybe her bladder had more ability than he'd given credit for. He took notes glumly, still glancing at Hermione. She had been dancing in rhythm of the past half hour, apparently having found the correct fidget-patterns to hold back her flood. Draco gave himself comfort that, even if she managed to make it till the end of class, there was no way she could make it up seven floors to the Gryffindor dormitory to go. All he had to do was follow her and he'd see what he'd been waiting for. He grinned, imagining her gasping right in front of the Fat Lady as she suddenly peed herself. And then, Hermione suddenly gasped for real. His eyes snapped up to her, widening in realization as he took in her position. Her body was tense, hand half way down to hold herself. Time seemed to slow as he watched her tremble and then relax, jerking her legs apart as she did. That was it! That had to be it, Draco thought in glee as he waited for the inevitable flood to come pouring down her chair, there was no way Granger wasn't wetting herself right then. He was on the edge of his seat as he saw a stream trickle over the edge of her chair, splashing onto the stone below. No one else would have noticed unless they were watching for it, but that was all he got. Much to his dismay, she slammed her legs together a second later, both hands holding herself, and regained control. Still, Draco had to work to control his breathing. He was a little hot in the face, heart racing. Even just that little bit had been such a thrill...but he knew there was no way she'd make it to her dorm after class! He'd definitely get to see it all if he followed her. He grinned, anxiously watching the clock just like Hermione was, only for a completely different reason. The bell finally rang and Hermione all but punched her two friends awake. “Class is over! Honestly you two, if you don't stop sleeping through it you're gonna fail! I'm going to go to the library, you two better catch yourselves up!” she lectured as she rushed to collect her books and darted out of the room. Potter and Weasley were dumfounded, but Draco just packed up and left at a normal pace. Couldn't rush after her, now could he? That would be too obvious. Besides, he found he didn't much need to rush. Hermione was walking pretty slowly, especially in the populated areas. As badly as she obviously had to go, he was still a little surprised that she passed two girl's rooms and ignored them as she walked on, Draco tailing at a safe distance behind. Once they'd passed the Great Hall, the student body thinned considerably and Draco watched with joy as she started to hold herself openly as she walked, if a little faster. They were nearing the library now and she kept having to stop and hold and bounce and squirm. Draco was eating it up, best plan he'd had all year! Hermione took a particularly long pause, whimpering loud enough for Draco to hear. He swore to himself, realizing he'd got too close and darted quickly behind a tapestry. From his hiding place he watched her dance, gasping and whimpering with her hands between her legs. He could have sworn he could see wet trails making their ways down her thighs to her knee high socks. But again, he was denied that final flood as she managed to right herself and start walking again. He cursed softly, aloud this time. Maybe he should just curse her. She'd never know what hit her in her state and he was sure she'd really wet. Full Body Bind? Good plan. He pulled his wand out and stepped a bit from behind the tapestry, magic about to fire when suddenly Professor Flitwick came out from around the corner. Draco snapped back into hiding and Hermione froze in place. Draco could have killed the old fool for thwarting his plans but then, as he watched the tiny professor strike up a conversation about what a wonderful (barf) job she'd done during class, he'd realized it was a blessing in disguise. Hermione chatted as though nothing was wrong, but he could see how tense she was, how tightly her legs were pressed together, and how her hands kept balling into her skirt. After what seemed like ages, the professor finally took his leave and Draco watched Hermione watch him go. The moment he was out of her sight, she held herself desperately with both hands, looking around like a toilet would magically appear to save her. Her eyes fell on Draco's tapestry. He gasped, still for a moment as he thought he'd been spotted. The panic furthered when she started hurrying for his hiding spot. He backed up until he hit a wood wall, no where to go, and she was gonna catch him and probably kill him...wait. Wood? He glanced behind him and thank Merlin's cloak, it was a door! He jiggled the handle, could have whooped at finding it unlocked, and tucked himself inside the most randomly placed storage closet ever just as Hermione threw back the tapestry. He smirked, watching through the crack in the door, thinking how he'd nearly escaped death. But Hermione didn't seem to be interested in finding anybody in particular. She danced in place, one hand between her legs, whimpering softly as she looked back and forth around the tapestry, checking to make sure she was alone, before coming inside. “Aaaaah....Oh God oh God oh God!” Draco heard her gasp as she danced, legs crossing and uncrossing as she hitched up her skirt. For the first time in his life he saw a girl's panties, Hermione's in particular were innocently white with lace around hems. Not so innocently, they were also soaked at the crotch. He watched as she suddenly squatted, spreading her legs out right in front of his slightly cracked door. In this same instant, his eyes widened and his cheeks darkened, ears ringing with the only sound in the room: Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” Hermione moaned in relief a moment later, her pee splashing thunderously against the stone floor in the room. She hadn't even tried to pull her panties down, she just peed right through them, a full waterfall errupting from her. Draco watched, slack jawed in awe, as trickles moved down her open thighs and dripping down to the floor to join the puddle her jetting stream was making. The room was filling with the light aroma of a girl's pee and Draco felt heat rushing straight down between his legs, blushing more as he realized he was getting hard while he watched this. All too soon, Hermione was finished with her wet. He watched her tremble, blushing as she seemed to realize what she'd done. She stood up, carefully stepping away from her puddle. She nibbled her lip and pulled out her wand, casting a vanishing charm on the mess she'd made before she checked the damage on her clothes. Panties were obviously soaked through, but her skirt and her socks were wet as well. She seemed to consider this, checked her watch, and pondered it again. Draco could almost hear her thinking, “Well, I do have time to change while everyone is at dinner....” She picked up the books she dropped before wetting herself and headed out the way she came, having apparently made up her mind. As for Draco, he shut the door completely after she'd gone and stuck his hand down his pants, touching himself for the first time with the memory of her wetting right there in front of him. After he'd finished with his own pleasure, he knew, undoubtly, that he'd have to see that again.
  3.   Well, I did promise weird stories, didn't I? I suppose it's best to start with this one, as it's fairly short as far as my writing goes. Fair warning, this does not involve humans. They're robots. Yes, omo robots. That's my thing. If that's too weird for you, and I can totally understand why it would be, feel free to turn back now. These two are the main characters in a little fictional universe I created that has an incredibly complicated backstory which I'm sure you have no interest in, but just know that I've made it so that they have basic human needs, as they're built to be as humanoid as possible. And on of those needs is the need to use the bathroom, as you'll see. I'd also like to apologize of the guy in the story seems a bit off, being a girl makes writing from a guys perspective a matter of guesswork... not to mention my skills at writing in general are quite lacking, as you'll also see... And with that, on with the story! Tide was only a few steps away from reaching the top of the steep staircase when she stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Skye to halt just behind her. Both confused and worried by the desperate femmes immobilization mere meters from the restroom, the mech reached out questioningly. "Tide?" The femme didn't move from her current position, trembling with her thighs squeezed together and her hands pressed against the metal front of her skirt. A loud keen of pain passed her lips, and she stooped down, sinking on the spot. Unsure of what to do and with his face uncomfortably close to the femmes behind, Skye tried to get her attention again. "Ti-" The full name didn't even have a chance to pass his lips when the femmes metal skirt retracted in a flash, sliding into a belt like sheath on her waist. The sight of her bared pelvic plating sent a shock through the mech. He'd always hoped to see the femme beneath her secondary covering, but this was hardly the time, place, or manner in which he'd expected to do so. Before he'd even had a chance to recover from his initial surprise, he heard the familiar clicks of pelvic plating unhinging automatically, and he only had time to widen his optics when he realized what was about to happen. With a heavy clatter, the femmes silver covering fell between her legs, the end dangling off the step she was standing on. Pump pounding, the mech could just stare at her fully exposed femmehood and aft, so close he would only need to step forward, lean upward and they would be touching his face. His optics swept down her smooth, sculpted aft and locked on the delicate, virginal lips, completely untouched and glistening with lubricants from her struggle. The soft blue folds were swollen from the massive torrent that was waiting to spray from her valve, and he saw a few escaping beads intermingling with her other fluids. So engrossed was the mech that he didn't notice her cry out in defeat as she squatted and bent her knees, forming a diamond between her legs as her body forced her to submit to the inevitable. He did, however, immediately see her lips part on their own accord, giving him a full view of her valve, port entrance, and pleasure bud. A single, yellow drop fell from the femme, coming to a rest on her metallic underwear below. Realization dawned on the mech, and his entire faceplate lit up. She, the femme of his dreams, was fulfilling his greatest and most secret fantasy; peeing in front of his very optics. Had he been thinking clearly, Skye would have jumped to her aide, perhaps carrying her the short distance to the restroom. But, as enraptured as he was, the mech couldn't bring himself to move, and he only watched his fantasies become reality. A single squirt was all that got by at first, sailing down to join the drop and pool in the curve of her plating still resting between her feet. A thin, broken trickle followed, squeezing out between her lips to patter against the metal and run down the inside of her thighs in broken dribbles. Almost too quickly to see, the thin tinkling thickened and increased in pace, forcing her exhausted valve to open and let the waterfall escape. A loud hiss accompanied the torrent of pee, and was matched only by the pattering as the stream collided with the plating that her body had, ironically, thrown off to avoid getting it wet. The pee collected quickly beneath her, and the puddle soon overran the brim of the stair to flow down onto the next and so on, creating a waterfall that ran down the stairs and through the mechs legs. An open window at the top of the stairs let in a ray of sunlight as the clouds conveniently parted outside, shining bright, midday light straight into the stream. Skye felt his jaw slack as the clear yellow fluid became sparkling gold in the sunlight, illuminating every precious drop that was squirting from the femme. He could now see the rivulets that had broken away from the main stream flowing down the femmes legs, hot and steaming from being pent up as they raced down to the floor. Their crisscrossing trails made the femmes silver thighs glisten, and the mech could feel the warmth radiating from them as the urine continued to flow. Creators, he just wanted to reach out and feel it, if only for a moment. But what little common sense he still possessed kept him back, and he remained a spectator. The femme, however, was not enjoying herself as such. With a thousand yard stare, she could only stand immobile as she continued to relieve herself against her will. Clenching and unclenching her fists, she tried to comprehend her situation. Hot pee continued to flow from her hole and run down her legs, making thinking quite difficult in the haze of relief. She was peeing herself, and not only that, but her boyfriends unfortunate face was only inches from the spectacle. Creators, she could only imagine his look of horror, or worse, disgust, as she she continued to pee on his staircase. But, despite all of that, she suddenly became aware of how little shame or embarrassment she felt in spite of her initial horror. Instead, at that moment, with her burden flooding out of her in a warming rush, she could feel only ecstasy. The hot urine cascading down her legs and squirting to the floor brought relief that she'd never known, sending waves of tingling, near orgasmic pleasure throughout her body. In the deep recesses of her mind, she'd always had a fascination with these kinds of things, and to have it happen in reality felt wonderfully forbidden. In an instant, the stream slowed as her body stopped pushing on its own and just let the pee flow, even though she was far from done. Biting her lip, the femme looked down her stomach at the now sluggish stream, watching as it arced lazily to the floor and spattered upon contact. Feeling a rush of bravery in her haze of ecstasy, she threw caution to the wind, spreading her legs and lifting her aft into the air. Biting her lip, she closed her optics, took a breath, and pushed. Immediately, the stream tinkling from her valve thickened into a spray, sending droplets flying as it split into multiple, thinner rivulets. The femme moaned shakily as her own pee flowed down her legs, quivering as she looked down to see the powerful jet gushing from between her thighs. A few squirts slipped back between the cheeks of her aft, delighting her with tickling warmth and making her shudder as it dripped off of her behind to trickle down the back of her thighs. Shaking once he saw that Tide was enjoying herself as well, Skye could only fight the urge to begin pleasuring himself on the spot, and instead just continued to watch. Another moan slipped out of her as she pushed again, thighs trembling as the massive torrent surged out of her tiny valve and teased her pleasure node. Feeling her bladder tank hit fifty percent capacity, she let out a sigh, hugging herself in her haze of delight. Watching the show with wide optics, the mech closed them for a moment to focus only on the symphony of delightful sounds that went along with it. The hissing, trickling, dripping, squirting, pattering, gasping and moaning alone were enough to make him very aware of a growing rush beneath his own plating, and he opened his optics to watch once more. For the first time, the stream began to fluctuate, losing its wild spray and thinning into a single arc that pattered against her drenched plating on the floor. Looking back to her femme parts, Skye couldn't help but admire her lips once more, and how they appeared even more appealing while squirting out a stream. Now panting from her efforts, Tide squeezed down on her near empty tank, feeling true relief and clarity settling in as she finished her accident after nearly two minutes of peeing. A sense of weariness filled her, making the previous sensations of pleasure and ecstasy fade enough for her to become aware of notably less positive emotions growing within her. As the urine flow slowed to an almost delicate tinkle and finally into fluctuated squirts, a deep sense of shame, disgust, and horror filled her. She was naked from her waist down, her boyfriend was right behind her, she was moments from a perfectly usable bathroom, and she was peeing herself. And, worst of all, she had liked it. Humiliation like nothing she'd ever known surged through her, making hot tears drip down her cheeks just as the last few drops of pee fell from her valve. Like a little podling, she'd had an accident, and was now dripping in her own puddle. The once warm pee coating her from the waist down lost its heat in the open air, and literally acted as a chilling reminder to what she'd just done. A choking sob came up from her throat as the full implications settled in. Skye probably hated her now, and most certainly would never want to talk to her again. Cold air over her port reminded her of how exposed she was, and how her position had given the mech a full view of her now former privates. She started crying in full as she lowered her skirt to cover her shame, and the noise was enough to wake Skye from his daze. Snapping up, the mech realized with horror how mortified the timid femme must have been, and he immediately went to her side. Looking to her tear stained face, he was immediately filled with regret and shame. Fragging idiot, all you had to do was carry her! But no, you just sat back and got a good peek, how noble of you... "I-I'm sor-ry. I d-didn't mean to..." Tide sobbed, squeezing her optics shut and not daring to look at him. "I just c-couldn't hold it anym-more. I'm s-so sorry..." "Hey, hey it's okay..." he soothed, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "It's alright. Almost veryone has an accident at some point... It's nothing to be ashamed of..." The tiny femme didn't seem to draw any comfort from the words, so he decided to start making amends for his lack of action. "Come on babe, let's get you cleaned off..." There is more after this, but as it's unfinished and fairly... intimate, I wasn't sure if I could post it or if anyone would even be interested. If you are, message me and I'll send you the rest when it's done. Again, I'd like to apologize if this is awful, I'm not exactly a very talented writer. ^^;
  4. Would other members of the Omorashi forum be interested in getting together on a weekend and watching something together? I'm sure that many of the members have similar interests, and stuff that we watch wouldn't always necessarily be omorashi related. Maybe watching anime together on a Saturday night? Thoughts anyone?
  5. I remember when I a was young, my Dad was irate at me because I wanted to go outside to play with my friends. I can't recall why he didn't want me to go outside, but being around seven or eight years old I naturally began to whine to get my way. He told me "If you're going to act like a baby, I'm going to treat you like a baby". He instructed my Mom to "go upstairs and get the diapers and plastic baby panties for him". I was absolutely horrified. I was screaming and kicking while she put my old cloth blue polka-dot diaper on, pinning it and then added those old, 50's style Gerber-made rubber panties. I remember crying myself to sleep feeling absolutely humiliated and betrayed. I was a small boy and very slender and still fit in those old clothes. I'm only realizing to this day, what an impact that experience had on me - whether it was for the good or bad, I just don't know. A number of years later, perhaps at age 11, there was an absolutely beautiful girl in my class room that was sitting just across from me. We were having a test in class, but she seemed to keep squirming around in her seat. In those days, you had to raise your hand to be excused from class to use the restrooms. This was just not going to happen during a test! Teachers always instructed us that on test hours, there were not exceptions to this rule. NO BATHROOM BREAKS, until the test was over and everyone had to walk in the hall together and wait their turn to use the bathroom. Things were pretty strict back then. She kept raising her hand and crossing and un-crossing her legs. Sometimes she seemed to have contorted her legs into a pretzel to hold back whatever was wrong with her. Her hand raising became more frantic...waving back and forth. The teacher ignored her. She began to whimper and tears were in her eyes. I whispered to her "What's wrong, Shari?" She said nothing EXCEPT I heard a loud fart emanate from her backside and she started sobbing, putting her head down on her desk. Soon, there was a sound of piddling pee on her chair below her and it became a full blown flood! I was shocked! She jumped up and lifted her dress and squatted as her pee was running down both legs, filling her saddle-style shoes! Her face was contorted in tears and pain and another very loud fart escaped (much to the laughter of the other children!) and this lump began to form in the back side of her panties that was becoming larger and larger. I was astonished - having never seen such humiliation. The teacher had of course, ran over at that time, tellin everyone to basically shut up, while she excorted Shari to the Principal's office to see the nurse and call her Mom to pick her up from school, immediately. Two things resulted from the above episode, for me: A) Shari and I became very close, because I din't tease her or bring the incident up to her at all. I accepted her school issue, as a non-issue. She shared with me that her Mom put her back in diapers and plastic pants for school! I asked her why? Shari told me "I dunno, they just make me feel safe" - needlessly to say that statement floored me. She and I went to several school dances and Sadie Hawkins events together. She was my first real "crush" that I ever had. She freely wet her diapers around me, for around four or five years. I never got to see her get changed, though.... :( B) I lost touch with her when her family moved away. I was heartbroken; however, I just never seemed to lose my facination with seeing a female squirm in pee desperation or getting ready to fully mess her panties, jeans or nylons! I began to wonder how it would feel.... That story will come soon - providing that I can continue to post. Hope you enjoyed this post! Warm Regards, Yummy1 (a trial member?) P.S., I'm adding just a couple of pictures that are unrelated to the above story. "Why?" For the hell of it! :)
  6. Excuse my english, it's not my first language. I play music, and used to record in an old studio without a bathroom. If the boys needed to pee, they did it outside. But I experienced some desperation from some of my female friends. I thought I could share some of them, and maybe some other experiences of watching desperate girls. The first is about a girl named Kara. She was 17 years at the time, and was athletic, with a slim body, brown hair, and beautiful butt and legs. She wore some loose sweatpants, which revealed a thong underneath (if you looked closely). It was the first time she recorded with us, and she probably didn't know about our lack of bathroom. She is a singer, and drank a lot of water during our session. At the time, there were only three of us in the studio. Me, Kara and a male friend. After a couple of hours I noticed that she was squirming a little. And when she thought no one looked, she discretely held her hand between her legs. I pretended I didn't see it, but it was quite obvious that she needed a toilet pretty soon. About half an hour later, she said: "Is there a bathroom here? I kind of have to pee". And held her hand between her legs to demonstrate her need. "No, I'm sorry" I said, and we carried on as before. She still tried to hide it a little, but she held her legs tightly together, and crossed them tight when she sat down. Me and my male friend was in the technique room (sorry, don't know what that room is called in english), and Kara was in the recordingroom alone. We could see her through a little window, but when she didn't think we were looking, she performed the cutest pee dance and held her hand tightly between her legs. I tried to watch it all, but didn't want my friends to notice my excitement. "If there is nowhere inside I can pee, I will go outside to find some bushes to hide in. I'm about to pee my pants" Kara said, obviously desperate to pee. I tried to laugh it off, to make her not want to pee outside. But she no longer tried to hide her desperation, and hopped around, holding her crotch. She also stuck out her butt a little, and when I saw her from behind, I could see that her pants went a little up her crack. Kara decided to try finding a neighbor, so that she could use their toilet. We went with her, and I got extremely aroused watching this young, beautiful girl being this desperate. We went to the nearest neighbor, and asked if she could use their bathroom. They let her in, and me and my male friend waited outside. A couple of minutes later, Kara returned. She was calmer, and was happy that she reached the toilet in time. "I have never been that desperate before" she said. When we got back to the studio, and she sat down, I discretely looked between her legs, and to my pleasure, there was a little wet spot in her crotch. Small enough to make it difficult to see, but she definately leaked a little. That's my first story. Hope you like it