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  1. Hey all, this is a writing experiment I did on Christmas because I felt like it. I always wanted to try writing desperation/wetting scenarios in an office setting but could never think of a way to turn it into a convincing or decent plot or scenario. This was something I came up with just to test out, and have a few ideas floating around about continuing this story if I think it's good enough, so feedback/suggestions/responses are greatly appreciated! - Orion ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 24-year-old Damian is an IT specialist at a local branch of West Valley Financial Services LLC, a financial management and advisory firm. Damian was rather fresh out of learning his trade but being around computers his whole life, he was more than qualified for the role as tech support for the branch. The head of the branch, Mr. Frasier, was a stubborn old man that really should have retired by now. He was always caught grumbling about how things are better back when he was a young’un and that people today don’t know “what the hell they doin’ anymore”. For that reason, nobody has been hired at this West Valley branch in over a decade until the previous tech lead retired, and we’re in need of a replacement, which ended up being Damian. Frasier was always keen to remind Damian that he was hired solely because he was cheap, and didn’t believe that his support was very necessary. As usual, the boss didn’t know what he was talking about. The aging staff at West Valley struggled with updates and software issues of programs they “have used forever”, along with the plethora of forgotten passwords and lost file reports. It’s a wonder corporate hasn’t audited this branch, the next closest employee to Damian in terms of age was 38, and he was the custodian. On top of that, the staff was notably lacking behind company standards for diversity: of the small office of 20 people, only two were female, the rest males. The two being the receptionist who had been here since the branch’s founding and was a few years away from retirement, and the other being a stoic middle-aged woman that never has anything to say other than “Mhm.” outside of work emails. It’s not that the boss was sexist, he was just old-fashioned and particular about his qualities when hiring new employees, which explains the lack of new arrivals since Damian. That all changed a breezy October morning. Damian was at his desk filing out another report on resolving a “[blank] file disappeared!” that he has come to know all too well. His throat felt a bit dry, so he got up to get a drink from the water cooler. The break room was next to the entrance to the office building, where the receptionist was nowhere to be soon; probably taking one of her “unofficial” breaks again. Damian got a cup of water and chilled on his phone for a couple minutes, then finishing and refilling his cup and leaving the break room. It was upon exiting that he noticed a young woman in the reception area, looking a bit lost. She had smooth legs clad in stockings that gradually grew thicker on her thighs as it became covered mid-way by a mini-skirt. A dress shirt covered her torso where an ample, but not overindulgent, bosom was being covered. She had a cardigan wrapped around her arm for the chilly autumn weather and a petite face curtained by a wavy brown-blonde bob to her shoulders. It's clear she was a bit overdressed; Damian personally was just wearing flannel and some blue jeans; dress code was pretty much non-existent. Noticing the young girl’s confusion, he stepped in to see if he could help. “Hello, can I help you?” asked Damian. The woman turned to respond. “Ah! Are you Mr. Frasier? I’m here for the interview.” An interview? Mr. Frasier was hiring?! That certainly is a surprise, and the fact he conceded a woman to be applicable enough for an interview, that’s rather unlike him. “No, I’m the IT Specialist, Damian.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake. “Nice to meet you Damian! I’m Hannah.” Hannah met Damian’s hand with a firm shake, but her hands were silky smooth. “If you’re looking for Mr. Frasier, I can take you to him, his office is right next to mine.” Damian said, motioning to lead the way. Hannah nodded and followed his lead. A short walk to Frasier’s office was followed by a knock from Damian. “Mr. Frasier, a woman named Hannah is here, she says she has an interview with you?” “Ah. Yes. Send her in.” Frasier responded sternly. “He’s all yours.” Damian gestured as if to say “Good luck, you’re gonna need it.” And with that, Hannah begun her interview as Damian returned to his desk to work on the other tech requests he has piled up. … It was a few hours later that Damian had begun feeling a bit thirsty again. It was about time for a late lunch anyway, being that it was past 3 in the afternoon by this point. He settled into his 30 minute break with some more water and a classic PB&J. A few minutes later Hannah came into the break room to join Damian, who until that point was alone in the break room. “Hey! How’d you do?” Damian greeted her. “Good, I got the job! Mr. Frasier is just showing me the ropes as his assistant, but he got a phone call and excused me for my break for the time being.” “That’s great! It’s been ages since we’ve had some fresh blood in the office, since yours truly, actually, so it’s great to see someone new!” “Likewise! I’m gonna be honest, everyone else here seems kinda old and bitter. It’s nice to have someone my age around.” Damian chuckled, “Yeah, they’re not so bad once you get to know ‘em, but there’s definitely a generational gap.” Damian and Hannah shared a conversation mostly about work, and touched on social media and the likes over the course of the break. It was at this time Damian just noticed how frequently Hannah was crossing and fidgeting in her seat. It’s easy to assume that the chair wasn’t very comfortable, because they weren’t. However Damian’s imagination began to wonder as a woman holding her piss was always exciting to watch. He wondered if Hannah was starting to get a bit desperate, and how long it was since she last used the bathroom. He pushed away the thoughts as wishful thinking, only to have his suspicions confirmed. “God, I am dying for a wee right now.” Hannah said, clasping her lap and bouncing for a moment, seemingly in the middle of the conversation. Damian was taken aback and grew a bit red in the face. That was quite… forward. He recomposed himself and pointed to the restroom in the breakroom. “The restrooms right here if you need it.” “Oh! I’ll be ok, I can hold it. Besides, that bathroom is probably a mess with all the old guys here. I always try to avoid public bathrooms, no matter how bad it is!” Hannah laughed. “Hah! You’re not far from the truth.” It’s true. He did wish the office had better aim; it was to the point where the two ladies in the office would just go elsewhere when leaving for their many unofficial breaks. “Are you going to be ok though? You seem a tad squirmy over there, I gotta say.” Hannah grew a little embarrassed after being prodded by this question. She thought guys would be grossed out by needing to pee, but Damian was more so just concerned, it seems. “I’ll be fine! I’m used to it. I should be heading back though.” “Same here! Talk to you soon!” … 6:00. Quittin’ time. Damian clocked out and felt a small urge to piss, so he went to the break room to take a leak. Luckily no one was in there, for a twenty-person office there was only a single toilet for everyone, so it wasn’t uncommon for it to be occupied when you need it. As Damian exited the restroom, he ran into Hannah clocking out, now visibly more flustered and with her top few buttons of her dress shirt undone, showing off a bit of cleavage. “Hannah! I’m surprised you’re still here! Usually the office leaves by around 5 or 5:30.” “Y-yeah, Mr. Frasier wanted me to stay a little longer to learn how to do some things… I’d love to chat more Damian but I’m absolutely dying for a piss so I gotta get home!” “Will you be able to drive ok?” Damian asked with genuine concern but equal parts curiosity. “W-well…” Hannah grew even more red. “I…have to take the bus to get home; I don’t have a car, so I guess I’ll just have to hold it…” Hannah seemed genuinely concerned that she was going to have an accident, a very public accident no doubt, as the bus stops and buses themselves would usually be full of commuting passengers, and that’s not even factoring in waiting for the bus itself. Damian decided to go for a bit of a shot. He truly wanted to help Hannah out, but at the same time was filled with burning curiosity as to the state and condition of Hannah’s bladder. “How far do you live? Perhaps it would be much faster for me to drive you home?” Hannah paused, at least paused everything but her crossing of legs and hopping from foot to foot as she cradled her bursting bladder. She knew with relative certainty she couldn’t make it without making a mess out of her mini-skirt, but she was very reasonably wary of taking a ride from a guy she just met. She felt she could trust him though, and she certainly felt after their conversation she could trust him enough. “S-sure… Is Harrison Road far from you?...” Hannah asked between leg crosses. “That’s just up the road from my apartment! Come on, before you make a puddle in the office!” … Damian pulled out of his spot with a now bursting young woman in tow, fiercely bouncing her legs and keeping them tightly crossed together. All the while sucking air through her teeth and moaning in anticipation. “Ohhhh~… It’s bad… I can almost feel it coming out! Hurry!” Damian went as fast as he could reasonably go without getting a felony, blazing past turns and going over the speed limit, weaving in and out of cars. He took a glance at Hannah on a straight stretch of road. Her face was visibly red from embarrassment, her hands firmly in her crotch, legs crossed fiercely enough to turn coals into diamonds, and could even, very faintly, notice a slight bulge out of the flat waistband of her miniskirt. It took a lot for Damian to regain his composure, and he could hardly feel like this is real; it felt more like a fanfiction on a piss kink message board. Damian made a 20 minute car ride in 15, and was pulling up to Hannah’s street as she looked the most desperate any woman had ever looked in her life. She began taking off her seat belt, all the while bouncing and fidgeting like a mad man. As soon as Damian hit park outside her address, a small townhouse amongst a row of them, Hannah dashed out of her seat and up the steps, and fumbled with her house keys as she pee-danced like crazy. Damian couldn’t be sure from his seat, but he swore he saw the faintest of damp spots on her stockings. It was only observable for a second, before Hannah opened the door and dashed inside and out of view. Damian sat on the side of the road for a couple minutes, wondering what happened, if Hannah made it, if he was fast enough, how many red lights or speed cameras he went past. Hannah soon reappeared, with what looked to be a damp pair of panties scrunched up in a ball in her hand. She looked considerably less professional, her hair messy, her dress shirt wrinkled and untucked, and her mini skirt ridden up considerably to where it became dangerously close to exposing herself. She walked over to the car. “Hey… Sorry you had to see me like that… It feels embarrassing to say but you saved my pride and my outfit today… So thanks for taking me home so quickly, I owe you one.” Hannah said sheepishly, avoiding Damian’s eye contact out of embarrassment. “Don’t sweat it, Hannah. It happens to everyone. I’m just glad you made it home dry. It certainly was nice to meet you.” “Somewhat dry. Hehe…” Hannah giggled to herself. “Yeah. See you tomorrow at work?” “Yep! See you tomorrow!” Hannah turned around to go back to her house as Damian prepared to u-turn in the street. But not before catching a glimpse of Hannah’s curvy bottom. And noticeably, since her skirt was riding so high, a Pikachu tail tattoo under her left butt-cheek on the bottom half of her thigh. As a Pokémon fan himself, Damian was greatly excited by this new common ground so that he could make a friend out of his new colleague, and for the first time in a while, was genuinely excited to go to work tomorrow. To be continued.
  2. From the album: Jailor Eckman's (Fluffier) Hoard

    Oh, man, sorry for the late upload today, guys! I barely got this one done in time! 😅 Prompt: "She really has to pee, but she... is too scared to get to the bathroom!" Nutmeg is apparently not a fan of the new guy! And that's a big problem, because his desk is between her and sweet relief! XD As usual, the nude and textless versions are available on my Patreon! So if you want to see a little more of Nutmeg than maybe she'd like, please consider checking it out! 😉
  3. Hey Hey Hey. As promised I'm in the office today and we're going to have some fun. I'm nowhere near squirmy yet but I have ALLLLLLL of these beverages and liquids, an empty office, a 🌞 sky and I'm feeling cute and spunky. Now I have a couple hours of work that I have to do so I won't be touching back in but during that time I shall be chugging these beverages 💦 ☕ 🍲 🥤 and I'll let you guys know anytime anything relevant happens. Well the full fat Coke is actually just in case I get nauseous cuz my tummy has been funny lately. Consider it an emergency Coca-Cola lol. This is my blue Supergirl dress.😍 I thought I'd lost it and I was so sad and then I found it late last night. The tights won the poll hands down both here and on Twitter. These are red suspender tights so they have absolutely no crotch or ass 😮and I wore them with my pink polka dotted panties and my leopard print disco mules. Happy following boys and girls 💋
  4. Today's look. It's 50 and sunny and so am I! Well. Not 50. Yet!!🤫 I'm mostly done with a gallon of water. I have 3 more hours at the office. I'm doing the twist to The Beat on my ☕ break. Let's just see what happens
  5. New year, same shit. Gotta head into that office to work for the day. Sure we closed it 2 months ago and it's creepy as hell and kinda cold. But....send the girl in! Alone! It's ALSO 10 degrees F out. So I had this dress on, read the weather and threw these old school stockings, on. They are cashmere wool and go almost all the way up but I can't find my garter belts and they keep rolling down. Note to self: buy new garters. But, I've had 20 oz of coffee and 1L of water and the days are already getting longer so I'm optimistic. I'm hoping to push myself into a desperate place today. But what if my pussy grow icicles? Which, incidentally, is not something I would hate. Must look amazing. Wish me luck boys n girls. ( And yes, I need to Windex my mirror. But it does a great job of helping to disguise my face 🤷)
  6. My first story, featuring a long-term m/m relationship where one partner introduces his secret bladder control kink and the other decides to humor him for their anniversary, but finds he enjoys it more than he thought. I liked playing with these characters and trying to make sure they were plausible as fem-leaning middle class millennial guys. This is an endurance story, with all the delicious drawn-out suffering that entails. I chose a hold length of 9-12 hours that would be agonizing for an untrained person, but also within the realm of reality. There is some sex in this, but it's not described as vividly as the desperation. ______ As promised, the LGBTQIA+ art history exhibit at the Newsome Gallery was unsuitable for visitors under the age of 18. “I feel like we’re the least kinky gays who ever lived,” Jack mused as he looked up at the Tom of Finland print on the wall, which depicted beefy park rangers having a four-way at a highway rest area. Jack was slender guy, just past 30. He had warm brown eyes and a debonair hairstyle with a side part. His nose was long for his face and crooked, which made him look gawky, but his smile more than made up for it in the eyes of his husband, Leo, who stood beside him. Leo was a little older, a little stouter, and a lot blonder. He had a mustache. “I see it as my mission in life to bring them back,” he would tell people with regard to the mustache, to Jack’s good-natured annoyance. “Nonsense. You can’t compare us to,” Leo gestured at the beefiest and most generously endowed park ranger, “the seventies!” “I’m not talking about the seventies. I’m talking about our friends. Bo and Tim just opened their relationship and started going to steam rooms, and they won’t shut up about it. They’re probably laughing at us behind our backs for being so vanilla. We have zero kinks put together.” “Well, I wouldn’t say zero kinks,” Leo mumbled, low, and then stopped himself. Jack turned to him, eyes wide, mouth open: “oh my God, do you have a kink?” he whispered, teasing. Leo stammered. “Oh my God, you have a kink. You totally have a kink. I can see the kinkiness in your eyes.” “It was a joke. I was kidding.” “Don’t lie to me, kinkster! What is it? Bondage, spanking, 1970s park rangers?” “Honey, we’re in public.” “Yeah, in public looking at porn.” “Did you ever think Tom of Finland helped promote unrealistic male body standards that plague the gay community to this day?” “Don’t change the subject.” They heard a yelp behind them: “Leo, it’s you! And you brought Jack!” It was Ramona, Leo’s mohawked friend from the upholstery studio where he worked. She promptly swept them up in an arty conversation about the unique ways various lesbian painters utilized space, which Jack, a CPA by trade, couldn’t quite follow. She would end up luring them to a remarkable tiny Jamaican restaurant between a boxing gym and a rail yard, where she regaled them with funny stories about her ex-girlfriend who tried to keep koi in the bathtub. The strange conversation under the Tom of Finland print receded to the back of Jack and Leo’s minds as they dug into escabeche and basked in Ramona’s boisterous energy. It was dark before they started for home. ____ As Jack was driving home along back roads that evening, something nagged at him. He turned to Leo in the passenger’s seat. “What was that kink you mentioned at the gallery? I’m still dying to know.” Silence. “Come on, just between you and me.” “I told you that was a joke.” “It doubt it. You had a weaselly look on your face.” “Uh…” “Well? Spill it, Jill. We’re married!” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do have a kink. A secret kink. It’s my deepest, darkest secret. I let it slip. You got me,” Leo confessed. “Is this kink, whatever it is, really your deepest, darkest secret?” Jack was becoming concerned. What could this possibly be about? “Kind of.” “What is it? What on earth are you into that it’s your deepest, darkest secret?” Jack’s mind crowded with alarming possibilities. Nazi uniforms. Bugchasing. Whatever it was called when people liked car crashes. “Well…um…it’s called omorashi.” Omorashi. It sounded Japanese. What kind of depravity was Leo into that had a Japanese name? Jack didn’t want to stereotype, but when it came to fetishes, everyone knew about the Japanese. “What’s omorashi?” he asked, with increasing trepidation. “Well, it has to do with…bladder control.” “Watersports?” Watersports was Leo’s deepest, darkest secret? Really? That was one of the most basic fetishes out there. “Not really. Watersports is about, you know, pissing on people. What I like is seeing a man, a grown man, desperate to pee. Like, he has to hold his pee as long as he can for some reason, and I get to watch him, you know, try to hold it in. Sometimes just knowing he has a full bladder. Knowing he’s been holding it for a long time, or drank a lot, or both, and he’s bursting.” He paused. “I really like the squirming.” “The pee dance is your kink?” Jack tried not to sound judgmental, and in truth he wasn’t. Leo got off on seeing a guy do the pee dance. It was eccentric, certainly, even a little funny, but there were so many worse things people were into. “Basically, yes.” “Do you like to watch guys actually, you know, pee?” “If they really need to go, yeah. Last Christmas, I was in the bathroom at the airport and I could hear a guy at the next urinal, behind the partition, who maybe didn’t get to go on the plane and had a lot to drink. He…took a long time and had a strong stream and I couldn’t stop thinking about…” he trailed off. “What if they don’t make it and wet their pants? Does that ruin it for you?” “No. That can be fun, too. Wetting, I mean. I was at a straight bar in college one time with Samantha - you remember Samantha? The place was full of frat guys. It was game day and I saw…” he trailed off again. Jack could sense that it wasn’t just embarrassment that made him clam up. He couldn’t even talk about this omorashi thing without getting turned on. He had a personal spank bank full of memories of random guys he’d seen in public who needed a piss. After three years together and a year of marriage, Jack was only now finding this out. Jack was silent for a moment. “I bet you think I’m disgusting. I should have never told you,” Leo said. “No, not at all, sweetie! It’s not, like, a bad kink, unless you’re kidnapping people and forcing them to wet their pants for you in your basement or something. It’s just different. It’s different enough that I have to think about it, you know. I’m not mad at you for having a little kink,” Jack replied. “You’re really not mad?” “No.” Leo visibly relaxed in his seat. “Maybe if I’d known, I wouldn’t have ducked into that smelly cubbyhole of a bathroom before I left the restaurant. Maybe I would have given you a little show on the way home.” “Really?” “Maaaaaaaybe.” Leo laughed, but there was an edge to it. Anxiety, or desire. Later that night, Leo overcame his embarrassment enough to show Jack some videos. They were cell phone videos of men in nondescript apartments, testing the limits of their bladders and then wetting their underwear. Jack observed how much Leo’s eyes focused on the stuff before the actual pissing. He got off on seeing guys do the pee dance, all right. “It’s slim pickings if you’re into male desperation more than female. If you want to see women wet their pants, there’s a big studio in Japan that makes professional videos. Japanese businessmen love nothing better than seeing a 25-year-old actress wet a schoolgirl uniform,” Leo said. “How did you even find this?” “I’ve…always liked it, since I was a kid. Since before I knew what it was.” “Wow.” “I know, I know.” “Can I ask you something?” “Okay.” “Remember the time when we were first dating and we went to Vegas? I drank a ton of coke because it was hot, remember? And when we got out on the interstate and I had to pee really bad and there wasn’t a rest stop for miles?” “Yeah,” Leo averted his eyes and blushed bright red. “I had to take a risk and piss on the side of the road while you watched for the highway patrol…” “Yeah.” “And when we got to the hotel you were so horny you practically tackled me? And we almost missed Alexis Mateo? Was that because…” “…Yeah.” “I had no idea.” “I’m sorry. I wasn’t about to turn to you in the car and say, ‘could you hold on a little longer? Your awkward situation is really getting my motor running.’ I was so embarrassed.” “I forgive you.” “Thanks for being understanding.” “Would you like it if I held my pee for you sometime? On purpose?” “You would do that?” “It’s not a problem for me. Our anniversary is in a few days, after all. It’ll be like an anniversary present.” An anniversary present for $0.00. Jack felt like a genius. “That would be,” Leo swallowed hard, “incredible. Just incredible.” “Is there any particular fantasy you have for me and my, um, bladder?” Leo’s eyes lit up. _______ Leo made a note of the time. It was 8:29 on the morning of their anniversary when Jack finished his before-work pee. Well, this is the last time I’m allowed to go before I get home from work, he thought. He’d had a cup of coffee and an 8 oz. glass of orange juice with toast for breakfast. He hoped that fluid had had time to make it through him in the past 45 minutes. Leo wanted him to hold it all day at work, drinking the normal amount of fluids, and come home to him with a nice full bladder. The time aspect seemed to excite him. “Just thinking about you slowly getting desperate at work, having to act professional when you’ve been holding it for hours and hours, not being able to sit still at your desk,” he had rhapsodized. Leo himself would be at home all day, having rearranged his schedule at the upholstery studio. When Jack got home, he would be given permission to go to the bathroom, but only if Leo could watch. Needless to say, neither of their mothers would be hearing about this particular anniversary gift. Jack would have to say he got Leo a tie or something. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Leo asked as Jack stepped out the door in his slim fit pressed khakis, brown oxfords and belt, light blue button-down shirt, and tasteful dark blue linen sport coat. “I’m a big boy,” Jack said, kissing him goodbye, “I can hold it.” _____ TO BE CONTINUED...
  7. She better do something quick or her boss will be mad. Thanks to Lucythecomrade for the art (The art is a little dark, but still good.)
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