satyr 1,314 Posted July 8, 2013 Popular Post Share Posted July 8, 2013 "Sure, just a sec." Elizabeth swung by the toilet before she grabbed a pack of soda for herself and her sister. Julie was practically bouncing on her bed when Ellie entered. Julie was a year older at seventeen, but Ellie was clearly the more mature one. For some reason, their mother couldn't quite see it. She always trusted Julie more, had always given her a larger allowance, and generally made sure Ellie knew she was the younger daughter – because Julie was a year older, and also, maybe, because Julie didn't have a waterproof mattress cover on her bed. "I'm so going to beat you," Julie said. It was a Sunday ritual: Mario Kart. Neither girl was a gamer. Gaming was a matter for boys with acne who talked about raids and clans and LANs. But both girls were fiercely competitive, and once either of them had picked up a game of any sort, the other had to be better. Lately, Julie had gotten the better of her, but Ellie wasn't going down without a fight this time. She opened a can of soda and handed Julie another. "Let's agree that the first race is a practice lap, it doesn't count," Ellie suggested. She needed a psychological edge, and perhaps some dirty moves on the practice run could psych her sister out. As she glanced over, she noticed that Julie still hadn't bothered getting out of her pink Pjs, and it was already early afternoon. Her sister was quite the sight, dirty-blond bedhead and crystal blue eyes. She could have any boy she wanted, Ellie thought, but she just doesn't see it. She must still think passing notes through friends is the appropriate way to start a relationship. The practice run didn't go so well. Julie crushed her. Not even blue shells could save Ellie. Both girls finished their cans and grabbed another. Now the real race would begin. The first few tracks didn't go better than the practice run, and moreover, Ellie was already noticing a twinge in her bladder. Her sister was already grabbing her third soda can, however. Ellie was about to chug down her second just to keep up, before she realized the ridiculousness of the situation. She was too old to make drinking soda into a contest just so she could keep up with her sister in something. No, it had to be Mario Kart. Sitting on her own bed, Ellie was acutely aware of the protection underneath her. It wasn't like it saw much use. One time in the last month it had been slightly damp. Now, though, she was squirming, trying to minimize the movements so as not to alert her sister to her predicament. Julie appeared completely comfortable with three cans of coke down already. Ellie was always Mario, and Julie was always Luigi. This gave Ellie an idea. "Let's switch characters," she said. She was convinced psychology and not thumb-twiddling skill was the key to defeating her sister. "But I like Luigi," said Julie, pleading with her doe eyes. "Come on, sis, you've beaten me fifteen times already. At least give me a chance here. Pretty please?" Ellie said, detesting the squee turn of voice she had to adopt. Julie shrugged. "But only if you let me have the last can of coke, ok?" Julie was bouncing up and down, eyeing the precious soft drink. Ellie sighed inwardly. There was no room in her for more soda anyway. She had drawn up her blanket to hide her telltale motions, the occasional scissoring of legs. She was getting desperate. Curse my small bladder, she thought. She could just go to the bathroom, but then Julie might change her mind. Maybe she'd even give up on the game and go talk to some cute guy on Skype. There were many things she disliked about her sister, but loath as she was to admit it, Julie was also her best friend, and their Sunday evening competitions were Ellie's favorite part of the week. The girls had shared a bedroom since they were little, even though there was a spare room in the house available. Julie was always telling their mother how much she enjoyed this arrangement, not mentioning the bed-to-bed teenage whispering that went on past bedtime, and Ellie was convinced she went along with it for Julie's sake, but maybe that wasn't strictly true. Maybe having her own room would be lonely. Ellie was now Luigi, and Julie was Mario. Every few seconds, shivers went down Ellie's spine. Her attention was divided equally between the game and her bladder. Between rounds she was secretly squeezing herself down there, under the blanket. But something miraculous was happening. The first round as Luigi, Julie beat her at the finish line. The second round, Ellie got a head start and kept on going. She was winning! Maybe it was the switching of characters. Julie's play as Mario was sloppy, fidgeting with the controller in her lap. Or maybe having to pee made Ellie play better. She was now nearing emergency status, but for the first time in ages, she was on a winning streak against her sister in anything. She had to keep it going! Just then, their mother called them downstairs for dinner. Curses! Still, she had beaten her sister and she could beat her again. "I guess you win," said Julie, looking a little sad. She truly was a child in a woman's body. She had the curves, the hair, the smile, the butt, the long legs, but she also had the demeanor of a puppy dog. Julie took a childish delight in beating her sister, but when she lost, she was crushed. Dejected, Julie trudged downstairs still in her pajamas. Ellie made a beeline for the bathroom, but her mother was apparently in there. She had no choice but to sit down with a full bladder at the table, where a lasagna dinner was already laid out. * * * Being the single mother of two teenage daughters wasn't easy, but Ann made it work. She was just that kind of person, she made things work. Today she had made the girls' favorite dinner, but neither of them was eating or saying much. Elizabeth was tapping her foot and shoveling food around the plate, while Julie was staring absentmindedly not at but through her plate, as if there were something below only she could see. Perhaps it was boy troubles? Elizabeth was still a little young for that, maybe, but Julie was a beautiful girl and she must at least have some prospects. The mood was pressured. But Ann made things work. She would not have her daughters moping around if she could help it. "How was your day?" She asked. "Fine," said Elizabeth. "Fine," said Julie, not taking her eyes off the plate. Changing tactics, Ann started rattling off stories about the girls' great uncle Harold, farmer, amateur inventor and family eccentric. The time he managed to knock himself out stepping on a garden rake as if he were a character in a cartoon gained little response, but by the time she started to retell the familiar—highly exaggerated, not to mention dinner-inappropriate—story about the unfortunate spray pattern of his new fertilizer spreader, the girls' moods were brightening up. Both girls were smiling before she even got to the climax, and by the time old Harold had become literally shitfaced they were laughing out loud. Then there was a drip. Then a hiss. Then a hiss and a drip together. Then her foot was wet. Could it really be? Ann looked at Elizabeth, whose face was crimson. "Oh, Ellie," she said. She thought this stage was over—she had certainly never imagined it might intrude into daytime—but she must be understanding. She must not shame her daughter. The embarrassment was punishment enough. "Ellie, please stand up," she said. Elizabeth remained seated. "Elizabeth Ann Johnson, please stand up!" Ann was sterner now. Slowly, on shaky legs, Elizabeth got up from her chair and stepped away from the table, hands buried in her crotch. "Please remove your hands." Elizabeth reluctantly removed her hands, exposing her crotch. She was dry. * * * Ellie's mom appeared stunned. Finally, she managed to stutter a word: "Julie?" Moist eyes, red cheeks, Julie rose from the chair. Her pink pajama pants were accentuated by a dark stain in the crotch, and even as she stood there, a small rivulet of pee was snaking its way down her inner right leg and puddling on the floor. Ellie couldn't believe it. Her own desperation was nearing a limit, but she never had accidents in the day. Neither did Julie. In fact, Julie seemed never to have to go at all. On long road trips, at school, at the mall, just lounging around the house—Ellie knew her sister must go regularly, like anyone else, but she never expressed a need and it seemed like she was never in the bathroom if she wasn't also showering or brushing her teeth or doing her hair and makeup. Now there were tears down her face, pee down her legs and their mother was trying to get her to explain what happened. Julie was talking very fast. "We were playing games and I was winning and we had some cokes and I was going to go after dinner and then you told a story and then I laughed and it just and..." "When was the last time you went to the bathroom?" Her mother asked. Julie appeared to consider this for a second. "Last night before bed." "Jesus," her mother said. "Elizabeth, I'm so sorry. Would you please take your sister to the bathroom and help her clean up?" It took all her willpower to walk across the room without holding herself, but Ellie managed to reach her sister still dry, careful not to step in any puddles. Julie turned around to reveal her now see-through pajama pants wetly clinging between her butt cheeks. She was like a child, just taking Ellie's hand and following as if Ellie were her mother bringing her in for a diaper change. They left a trail of pee in their wake. As they crossed the threshold to the bathroom, a bladder cramp hit Ellie, and she had to let go of Julie's hand to hold herself. Then she reminded herself that she was the mature one, she was not the one who had just wet her pants like a little girl, and she would help her sister before she could allow herself to pee. Without locking the door, she began unceremoniously undressing Julie. They had slept in the same room since Ellie was two and used to go skinny dipping every summer. Besides, it didn't seem like nudity could add any further embarrassment to the situation. Ellie removed Julie's shirt, her bra, and her soaked pants. All the while, Julie just stood there like a doll. When she touched Julie's panties to slide them off, Julie tensed for a second, and a few droplets escaped into Ellie's palm. "Sorry for peeing on you," said Julie. Then she started laughing through her tears. "I guess you're the big sis now!" Now fully naked, she stepped into the shower, turned it on, and directed the stream at Ellie, who barely dodged it. "What are you, five? Pottypants!" Ellie said, laughing and sticking her tongue out at her sister. Then she remembered her own predicament, ripped off her pants and panties and sat down on the toilet. It was just in the nick of time, but she made it dry. Feeling the tremendous pleasure of relief, she wondered if this was what sex was like. After she was done peeing, Ellie went into their room to find clean clothes for her sister. Although they shared just about everything, the closet in Julie's corner of the room had always been off limits. There was no secret diary or stash of weed in there. It was simply a hurricane level mess, heaps of clothes everywhere, and Ellie supposed that's what her sister didn't want her to see. When she returned to the bathroom with fresh clothes, Julie was already toweled up, and their mother was sitting on the toilet lid. "We only have one mattress cover," her mom said. "I think it would be a good idea if you girls shared a bed tonight." Changes were ahead. (Author's note: I've written for large audiences before, but nothing of an erotic nature. Putting original writing up on an anonymous fetish board for the first time is still a little scary. Being a guy I have no special insight into female psychology, but since I'm into girls, I must attempt female characterization. Hope you enjoyed this.) aumonier, orbgon, skywalker58 and 13 others 16 Quote Link to comment
frostyjr2 1,305 Posted July 8, 2013 Share Posted July 8, 2013 You did a pretty good job. i liked it ! Thanks for posting, keep this story going, please ! Quote Link to comment
shortandsweet 26 Posted July 9, 2013 Share Posted July 9, 2013 I like it, it's a great start. Reminds me of me and my sister when we were younger. Quote Link to comment
Ranpalan 496 Posted July 9, 2013 Share Posted July 9, 2013 Great to see some quality writing on here, please do go on. Gaarm 1 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted July 9, 2013 Author Popular Post Share Posted July 9, 2013 "You were the one who wanted an adventure. Yet you're always cruising five below the speed limit," Ellie said. She was kind of looking forward to the next rest stop, but she was also wanting to up the excitement a little bit. Julie's eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Why don't you take the wheel?" "What, are you crazy?" Julie had just turned eighteen and gotten her driver's license. Ellie had probably logged more hours behind the wheel than her sister, but she had yet to take the final test and get her license. Images of cops and fines and jail flashed through her head. "Think about it," Julie said. "When have you ever done anything illegal? It's not like you don't know how to drive. That old lady we passed half an hour ago was probably more of a danger on the road than you, and she's probably had her license, like, a hundred years." It was true. She had never shoplifted a candy bar. She had never snuck into an abandoned building or walked on the grass where the sign said not to. She always waited for the traffic light to turn green before crossing the road, and even diligently waited to dispose of her bubble gum until a trash can was in sight. Ellie could not remember ever rebelling against anything, except maybe her mother, which didn't count. "Alright, pull over. I'll drive, like, a mile, just because. And you bet I'm going to be going at the speed limit," she said. That last bit didn't come out as bad-ass as she would have hoped. The implication, of course, was that her sister drove even slower, but promising to abide by the letter of the law didn't sound particularly rebellious. On the other hand, breaking more than one law at once probably wasn't a good idea. Julie pulled over on the side of the road, and they switched seats. Ellie adjusted the driver's seat—her sister was taller, and had longer legs—and accelerated. With every tick of the speed meter, she felt freer. The feeling of being behind the wheel unsupervised by qualified adults for the first time was exhilarating. She reached the speed limit and pushed beyond—and then she noticed the slipperiness of the snowy road and slowed down again. Still, she was driving, they were going on an adventure, their first road trip, alone! Ellie and Julie both had their birthdays in February, Ellie's just the day before, in fact, and their mother had scraped together the money to send them on a long weekend to a ski resort as a combined birthday present. They had vacationed there before, but had always stayed in the cheapest cabins available, and this time they were staying in a fancy hotel—without their mother. Ellie was just about to turn on some music, loud, when her sister whispered: "Behind us." "Why are you whispering?" "Look behind us," said Julie, in a voice Ellie knew all too well. It was the same one Julie used many years before when she asked Ellie to check under her bed for monsters. In an instant, the joy vanished from Ellie's face. In the rear view mirror, a police car was approaching. Ellie's heart felt like it was planning a break-out of the cage of her ribs. Frantically, she searched her mind for some way out of this situation, cold sweating, legs shaking. Her sister, meanwhile, appeared equally terrified, although Ellie wasn't sure there would be any legal ramifications for her if they were discovered. To stop the shaking, Ellie gripped the steering wheel like a vice and stared straight ahead, slowing down to well below the speed limit. She must have looked mental, but then again, at the moment she probably was. Ironically, the fear of the law was the factor that made her a danger on the road, and not the breaking of the law per se. "What should we do?" Julie asked. "What oh what should we do, oh, I'm so sorry I suggested this!" She was bouncing in her seat, alternating between looking in the side mirror at the approaching car and looking at Ellie, who for her part was looking straight ahead. Tunnel vision had kicked in. There was only her, the road, and the monster behind. They turned a corner, out of the woods, and entered a long, straight stretch of road. Far away on the horizon was a line of trees, but on both sides was a snowy white plain. "They're right behind us!" Julie yelled. Ellie looked in the rear view mirror—and saw the car blink to the left, then start to pass them. Ellie kept her iron grip on the wheel and stared straight ahead as the police car, piloted by a lone woman who did not so much as glance in their direction, passed them, crossed over onto the right side of the road again and speeded away from the girls. The sisters sighed in unison. "Wow," said Julie. "I did say I wanted an adventure!" As soon as the police car was out of sight, Julie was as chipper as ever. It was just the way she was. Ellie would have laughed and smiled, too, if not for a small problem with her underwear. She was too scared to look down, but she was definitely wet. No, scratch that: she was damp. She must just have leaked just a little bit. Now that there had been a breach in the dam, however, her previous low-key need to pee had kicked into high gear. "Let's stop at the next rest stop, okay?" she said. Julie just nodded. She was busy taking self-shots on her phone, no doubt snapchatting away with a half-dozen friends at once. So as not to further tempt fate, Ellie pulled over on the side of the road and convinced Julie to drive again, despite Julie's protests that lightning never strikes twice in the same spot. "I mean, like, how many cops can there be out here in the middle of nowhere?" It was true. The landscape reminded Ellie of Fargo. But still, her sister took the wheel again. They didn't have to wait long for an opportunity to stop. They were indeed in the middle of nowhere, but a few miles down the road there was manned gas station. In the window hung a hand-written sign that said, "We won't tell you how many miles it is until the next gas station, but it's a long way." Ellie sprinted out of the car, now feeling the familiar urgency that seemed to spike at the prospect of reaching a toilet, her body getting slightly ahead of itself. Once she had peed she surveyed the damage. Her light blue jeans—probably the worst possible attire to have an accident in, she reflected—were spotless. There was only a slight spot on her white panties. There was no yellowness to it. She could almost convince herself she didn't have an accident. It could be sweat. She had, after all, cold sweated out of every other possible pore and orifice of her body. Julie was inside the convenience section browsing magazines. "Maybe you should take the opportunity to use the bathroom? The sign said it's a long way until the next gas station," Ellie suggested. "But I don't have to go." "Promise you'll go at the next stop, then?" "Yes, mom," said Julie, rolling her eyes. It had been six months since Julie's accident at the dinner table. The girls had slept together in Ellie's bed that night, and the following day, their mom had bought a mattress cover for Julie's bed as well. Julie had went along with it, but that had been the end of it. Ellie had wet the bed twice in the time since. Julie, on the other hand, had done nothing to change her happy-go-lucky attitude to using the toilet or, well, life in general. Her initial embarrassment dried away with her tears, and she never had another accident. The girls had given up on Mario Kart, but continued to compete in anything that caught either one's fancy. After Mario Kart came chess, which Julie conceded after only a few weeks. She simply had no patience for a slow, strategic board game. Their most daring contest had been on a Saturday when their mom was away, and they had invited Toby, a mutual friend from Julie's class. The trio were an eternally unresolved love triangle. Ellie had been crushing on Toby since forever, especially so after he started working out seriously and turned into a remarkably good hormonal approximation of his hero, Brad Pitt circa Fight Club and Snatch. Toby, for his part, was hopelessly in love with Julie. He had never told her so, but Ellie could see it in the way he looked at her. Julie was simply too attached to her sister—and too innocent, perhaps, in general—to think of boys and relationships in anything but a dreamy, abstract manner. She remained completely oblivious to Toby's interest. Nevertheless, the three had agreed to play strip poker, and when their mom came home unexpectedly early, Toby, clad only in his boxers, had to hide under Julie's bed while a topless Julie—blanket modestly drawn up over her chest—pretended she was getting ready for bed. Toby had gotten himself clothed and snuck out the back door while Ellie ran interference with their mother. Still, she did get to see Toby almost naked. One contest Ellie could not win, however, was the race to first reach adulthood. Not only did her sister have a one year head start, but certain adult habits seemed just to fall naturally to her, despite her naiveté. One of those was coffee. Coffee was an adult drink, and Ellie had tried to like it, but she just couldn't stand the taste. Julie, however, had become a caffeine nut, and bought two large coffees at the gas station, downing one before they set out to drive again and pouring the other into a thermos can she had brought just for that purpose. Coffee turbo-charged Julie's naturally upbeat mood. In the first half-hour after they left the gas station, Ellie couldn't get a word in edgewise. After cycling through all the latest celebrity gossip, the local high school gossip, and a laundry list of personal pet peeves concerning their mother, Julie finally asked a question that demanded an answer. "Uh, so, have you thought about if, like, you... Wet the hotel bed?" It was a question every bedwetter dreaded. Ellie had brought no protection whatsoever. Sleepovers had always brought unnecessary anxiety, but she had never wet someone else's bed. Ellie didn't even see herself as a bedwetter, really: it was a less than monthly occurrence. She decided to answer boldly: "I guess then I'll do my part in wetting on the bourgeoisie." It was a word she had learned recently. "What's the bourgeoisie?" her sister asked. "It's just a joke. The bourgeoisie is like, the rich and powerful who control the world. The kinds of people who own fancy hotels." It was a joke, but it had double undertones. On the one hand, Ellie had been becoming more socially conscious lately. She had been reading about capitalism and class warfare and socialism, and she noted that, as the daughter of a single provider who worked as a cashier in a supermarket, she never had all the things the snotty popular girls in her class did. She wasn't poor, by any means, but she was most definitely not bourgeoisie, and this trip would be her first stay in a hotel ever. Their family vacations had always been just that—staying with family, occasionally going on camping trips or going skiing while living in the cheapest cabins for rent. At the same time, she wanted to deflect the idea that she might possibly wet the bed. Ellie did not possess her sister's toddler-like ability to bounce back from any negative emotion the moment a shiny new object of interest caught her fancy. She had spoken with Julie about Julie's accident several times in the last few months, and every time, Julie had laughed about it. Ellie, on the other hand, was still blushing whenever any of her accidents from years back were mentioned. "It would probably be a poor maid cleaning it up, though," said Julie. An unusually astute comment coming from her. But then again, it had just been a dumb joke and Ellie was happy to leave the topic of her bladder issues. It had been a long day and it was a long drive. It was a Friday and they had a full school day before setting off. Not fueled by caffeine or obligated to watch the road, Ellie closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep. When she woke up, it was fully dark outside. Her sister informed her that they had just passed a sign saying it was forty miles to their destination. Ellie picked up the thermos can and noted that it was empty. Her sister was running on a whole lot of coffee, but she was clearly getting tired. All that coffee had to run out somehow. In both manners of speaking. Her sister was getting antsy. Since she was driving, she couldn't exactly be doing the full-on pee dance, but Ellie noticed the signs. "Julie?" "What?" "Do you need to pee?" "Uh-huh." She briefly placed her hand in her crotch, then quickly removed it. Apparently, there had been no rest stops since the gas station. It was still forty miles until the ski resort. (Author's note: thanks for the encouragement, guys. I wrote an open ending so the story could be a standalone or continue further if I so chose. I don't want this to become one of those stories that just repeats itself over and over, a long time after the author has run out of ideas. I've decided I probably have one or two more installments in me. Given the positive feedback, I'll finish this skiing arc and that will probably be that. Also: this story takes place in an unspecified Western country, and cultural things like the legal age to drive, drink etc. will be decided based upon artistic license.) aumonier, herrokitty, Ranpalan and 8 others 11 Quote Link to comment
herrokitty 495 Posted July 10, 2013 Share Posted July 10, 2013 "wetting on the bourgeoisie." It's like you tailored this story to me... Seriously though, awesome job. Quote Link to comment
frostyjr2 1,305 Posted July 10, 2013 Share Posted July 10, 2013 These two girls are so cute ! Keep going... i love this. i certainly understand the reluctance to repeat oneself, but really, every story since the beginning of time is pretty much variation on a very few simple themes anyhow. There's a joke about a composer, someone asks him "So, what are you working on now?" The composer replies, "An opera." "Oh, really? What is it about?" "The usual thing... a tenor tries to make love to a soprano, and a baritone tries to stop them." Quote Link to comment
rev 9 Posted July 10, 2013 Share Posted July 10, 2013 I am really enjoying this story. I love the idea of the older child being the most childish and being happy go lucky. Can't wait to see if she makes it (though hoping she doesn't) Quote Link to comment
WiiGuy86 641 Posted July 10, 2013 Share Posted July 10, 2013 Wow, I'm really loving this. Keep it going! Quote Link to comment
KinkScribe 8 Posted July 16, 2013 Share Posted July 16, 2013 Class warfare and omorashi get me all kinds of hot! ;) herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted July 18, 2013 Author Popular Post Share Posted July 18, 2013 (edited) (Author's note: this installment is longer. Hope it was worth the wait.) By the time they were closing in on their destination, Ellie was seriously considering taking the wheel again. Her sister was now driving with one hand on the wheel and the other permanently resting in her lap. The car was a stick shift. Julie almost drove past the exit to the ski resort, at the last second making an abrupt brake-and-turn maneuver that would surely have failed any driving exam, and would probably have meant the failing of Ellie's bladder, too, if she were in Julie's place. Julie double-parked as close to the entrance as she could and jumped out. Ellie, although ready for another bathroom break, was in no such hurry, although she was worried about her sister. When she exited the car, Julie was pacing back and forth, clearly confused. "Which one is it?" Ellie had never considered this. She had been here several times before, but never in a hotel. As it turned out, there were two hotels. They were parked near a small staircase meticulously cleaned of any sign of winter, unlike the parking lot, which was covered in a thin layer of snow, or the waist-high snow glimpsed just outside the lights from the hotel. At the top of the staircase was a wide, glowing hotel entrance which seemed constructed specifically for the purpose of announcing to the world that whoever walked through it was rich, fabulous, or some combination of the two. Ellie looked up and couldn't decide how many stories the building housed, but there were many. In the other end of the parking lot was a much smaller, four-story building with a more modest, but still welcoming entrance. Their mother had booked the room in Julie's name, but, as if finally realizing after all these years that her younger child might be more worldly in certain ways, she had trusted Ellie with all the details. She had neglected to mention one important detail: which of the two hotels they were booked at. It occurred to Ellie that this newer, more opulent and certainly more expensive hotel could have been built since they last visited the resort, and her mother might simply be unaware of its existence. It didn't look like anything her mother could afford in a million years. Gambling with her sister's dry pants as stakes, she said, "I think it's the other one. I'm sorry, I know you're dying to go. Should we move the car?" "Ugh, no, it's too crowded on that side of the lot. Let's just powerwalk over there," said Julie, her hands now firmly by her sides and not in her crotch, though her fists were conspicuously clenched. Ellie helpfully unloaded their suitcases and started rolling them towards the entrance, letting Julie hop her way in advance. When Ellie had finally dragged their baggage to the hotel lobby—her sister's a lot heavier, god knows what she had put in there—Julie was already stood at the reception desk, rhythmically shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There were no signs in the lobby indicating where a porcelain sanctuary might be located, so Ellie hoped she had guessed the right hotel. The lobby was dimly lit, although more out of mood than out of cheapness, Ellie sensed. In one corner, a few logs crackled pleasantly in a large brick fireplace. As she rested on the briefcases, she observed her sister. In the dim lobby, it was hard to tell what might be shadow and what might be... Something more? Was it? For a moment there appeared an odd shadow on her sister's butt, but there were lots of odd angles in this place. This hotel was more modest than the one next door, but it at least gave the impression that the architects had looked at the mountains and woods surrounding it before they drew the plans. Julie waved to her with two electronic keycards and jogged to the nearest elevator. "We're on the top floor!" She yelled, clearly excited. That would be number four, Ellie thought and pushed the button, as her sister eagerly passed her a card with 403 written on it. Well inside the room, the first thing that met the eyes was an enormous bed, resting beneath a window that overlooked the bottom of the slopes. There was a real fireplace in the room as well, although there was no fire going, and it felt kind of chilly after the warm lobby. Julie bolted through the first door she saw, presumably the bathroom. Ellie let the bags slide down on the floor and sank down on the bed. It was probably theirs to share, but it was wider than a standard double bed, and the sisters had shared single beds before. Ellie closed her eyes, but her mind barely had time to drift before her sister bounced on the bed beside her and yelled, "Oh, there's a bubble bath! It's wonderful!" Ellie sauntered into the bathroom. Her sister was right: the bathroom was huge, almost the size of the sisters' shared bedroom, and in one corner stood a jacuzzi fit for four. Their mother might have gone for the cheaper hotel, but it hardly mattered—this must have cost a fortune, Ellie reflected as she peed. She almost felt bad, imagining how her mother must have saved, how she must have suffered for them to have this weekend; she and Julie had been eating and spending like usual, but Ellie was sure their mom hadn't gotten a raise and the money must have come from somewhere. It was all done and paid for now, though. Ellie decided to push the thought to the back of her mind. She owed it to her mom to enjoy this stay as much as she possibly could—if only to get their money's worth. And, almost giggling to herself, she realized that being pampered for a weekend might not be such a bad thing after all. It wasn't what she was used to, that's for sure. The sisters were both tired, and quickly undressed and jumped into bed. "You have to promise me something," said Julie. They were both on their sides, naked except for their panties—Ellie had slipped off her bra after Julie immodestly dropped hers—looking into each others' eyes. "What?" Ellie said. "Don't forget me when I'm gone," her sister said, her voice suddenly a fuller, more serious timbre, far removed from her usual hedonistic trills of the tongue. "When you're gone?" "When I go to college, when I move out, don't forget me, ok?" "I would never," said Ellie. Ellie fell asleep hands and feet intertwined with her sisters'. * * * Ellie was such a night owl. She was always up late and sleeping late. But this was their big day! Fifteen minutes, or possibly half an hour—these time frames seemed equivalent in Julie's morning mind—after she woke, Julie had no more patience. Bouncing on the bed, she woke her sister up. "Ellie! Ellie! Wake up! I have a surprise!" She could barely contain her joy. "Whaa?" her sister said, still more asleep than awake. "I was thinking and I had the greatest idea. We'll have a Champagne breakfast!" At this, her sister jolted awake. Julie could hear Ellie vaguely protesting in the background, but she was already at the phone, ready to call up room service. "Shut it, cutie pie," said Julie. Unless she was really angry, this was her preferred manner of insulting or commanding her sister. If she tacked on a cute nickname at the end, it kind of softened the blow, didn't it? There was no way Ellie could be mad at her. "I'm eighteen now, so that means I'm allowed to buy wine," Julie said. "And they don't know you're not. If they ask, I'll just say I, uh, like to drink out of two glasses. Makes me feel, like, luxurious." Julie was already phoning room service. When the man in the other end asked her if she wanted Champagne specifically, or a sparkling wine in general, she told him to just get her two glasses and a bottle of something that tasted good. "Oh, and make it not too expensive," she added, partially registering her sister's protestations in the background. Something about who was paying for room service. "I know, we'll drink it in the bubble bath!" Julie hadn't even had her morning coffee, and already she knew this would be a fantastic day. She rushed in to set the water running while her sister tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. The wine arrived just as Julie was about to drop her panties, so she quickly grabbed a bathrobe and haphazardly wrapped it around her to give the impression of modesty as she opened the door. Truth be told, she was too excited for modesty at the moment, and she didn't really care what the room service guy saw. Besides, he wasn't much older than her and kind of cute, in a boyish sort of way. Not like the men on tv, more like the boys from her class. Julie quickly tipped him and brought the wine to the bathtub. "Come on, sis, join me or I'll drag you in here myself!" Julie yelled. "Sweetie," she added. Ellie walked into the bathroom, still only clad in her panties and clearly having had a major malfunction in the hair department during the course of the night. "You, uh, you're naked in the jacuzzi already?" she said. "Of course, silly, I don't wanna get my panties wet. Get in here!" Ellie joined her, and the girls clinked their full, soon to be empty wine glasses together. Neither girl had much experience with alcohol, or more specifically, with the culture that surrounded it. They had each been allowed, in the last year, to taste some wine and some beer by their mother, who preferred, she said, if they learned it if they learned how to drink responsibly with her rather than how to whore themselves out at a frat party. Their mother had been a bit drunk herself when she said it, after a failed date with a coworker, so Julie didn't mind the crass wording, although she sensed that it disturbed her sister. Ellie didn't really remember what their mom used to be like. Anyhow, they had definitely enjoyed the taste of white wine more than beer. But neither girl had ever been to a real party where alcohol was served and consumed in party-sized quantities. This presented a problem when they decided to play a drinking game. Neither one really knew what that entailed, except vaguely that it was about embarrassment, tricky questions, and getting drunk. Implicitly, they agreed that although it was a game, it wasn't a competitition—otherwise, Julie might have felt sorry for losing. Not knowing quite how to proceed, they settled into a rhythm of asking each other increasingly intimate questions and intermittently sipping their wine. Julie used the opportunity to get her sister to finally reveal the best hiding place in their house, the one she always used to win hide-and-seek when they were younger. Although she was satisfied with the answer (a particular closet which she had always known about but never really noticed or thought to look in), Julie sensed that it was possibly not quite the right sort of question for this game. Well, she was definitely getting tipsy, so to her it was all the same. Then her sister asked an odd question. "Have you ever wet your pants?" "Silly," Julie said. "You helped me clean up!" "I mean, other than that time." "Nope! My turn!" Now Julie knew what to ask. She took a sip of wine, savouring the question. The wine was decent, she supposed, but not worth swishing around her mouth like they did on the tv. "Tell me what it's like to kiss a guy!" * * * Ellie wasn't shocked, but it was still a surprise. The inquisitiveness in her sister's eyes reflected the truth plainly: she must never have been kissed. This despite the fact that, as Toby had confessed to Ellie, all his guy friends, and probably most of their class, and most of Ellie's class, too, had the hots for Julie. Toby didn't confess that he more than anyone was in love with Julie, but surely he knew that Ellie knew? Eager to take on the more experienced role, tour guide to adult life, and not wanting to fully reveal that her own sum total experience with kissing boys was a brief "relationship" in eight grade, with lots of hand-holding and a few innocent pecks on the lips, Ellie dodged the question. "It's... really sweet, is what it is. But tell you what," she added, the wine talking, "I'm gonna make it my mission to get you a kiss from a hot guy this weekend. How about that? But what d'ya say, the wine's almost out, let's get dressed and hit the slopes!" On unsteady feet, Ellie climbed out of the jacuzzi. She better use the bathroom first, she reflected, and dumped her butt down on the seat, at the moment unembarrassed to be seen by her sister nude and peeing. Julie got out of the bath shortly after, apparently not concerned with the bathroom despite yesterday's near miss. Not long after, they were dressed, had collected their rental ski gear, and were owning the kids on the kids' slopes. It was Ellie's insistence, dimly aware that as long as the alcohol might be affecting their balance, they ought not to hit the big slopes. Julie was the better skier anyhow and definitely had the lower patience, so she was probably bored on the kids' slopes, but she was so cheery that she went along with it. After an hour or so out in the cold winter air, Ellie felt better and allowed herself to be convinced to move on to the harder slopes, the ones marked red or black on the map. * * * After—what, a couple hours—they finally abandoned the little slopes and got on the lift to get some real skiing going. Julie was so excited that her sense of time was all out of whack. On the slopes, she was in her element. She always felt so clumsy compared to her sister, constantly bumping into stupid things, if she wasn't forgetting things she ought not to forget, or otherwise acting the fool. But in heavy snow gear and with alpine skis on her feet, Julie had something her sister lacked. She had grace. She was one with the slopes, the snow, the crystal blue sky—the best possibly weather to ski in, she reflected behind her sunglasses—and nothing else had much importance. After a while, they were at the bottom of the hill where most of the slopes met, and Ellie requested a bathroom break. This was the first Julie noticed of her own need to pee, which was definitely present, but not pressing. Peeing when skiing was a complicated affair. The slopes were covered with people, and going outside was no option. The only real toilet facilities were in the service buildings at the bottom of the slopes. But to get your relief, you must first unlock your feet from your skis and find someplace to store the skis—as rental property, they were, her mom used to say, not just precious but holy—or, if nowhere seemed sufficiently safe, maybe even carry them into the stall with you. To get to a toilet stall, you had to waddle a long way in stiff alpine skiing boots most definitely not made for walking—one wasn't supposed to walk, but to use gravity and its effect on one's upper body to brake or turn. Once finally in the stall, you had to remove your winter jacket, take down the suspenders on your snow pants, pull down the snow pants, then pull down the extra-thick woolen underpants, and finally, your panties, before you could even sit down and pee. Then you had to reverse the process after you were done. Julie knew all this because she had done so, once, when she needed to pee on a skiing trip, and it was such a hassle that she had resolved never to do it again. She would simply hold it until the evening, when she could go at the hotel. Ellie insisted on using the bathroom, and pleaded with Julie to join her, but Julie had no patience and decided to leave her sister and check out one of the black slopes, the ones Ellie tended to avoid. When she got on the lift, securing the protective bar over her abdomen, she noticed that her need was a bit stronger than she'd felt at the bottom of the slopes. She hadn't peed since last night, and had made sure to drink plenty, as was her custom, both before, during and after the wine and the drinking game. Her bladder was aching dully, but it was nothing she couldn't put at the back of her mind when she looked down, far below, at the snow-dipped pines and the mountainside. The sight was breathtaking. At the top of the hill, Julie set out fearlessly, passing a pair of young men whose faces were etched with uncertainty, clearly thinking they had made a big mistake going for this steep of a slope. To Julie, though, it was just perfect, the kind of challenge she needed but could overcome by working in tandem with gravity. The rush as you go faster down a hill than you have ever gone in a car—or at least, that's what it felt like to Julie—was beyond words, blood pumping, well-tucked-in hair whipping in the wind. A while later, now having to consciously clench a bit down there to contain the flood, Julie was at the bottom of the slopes. She wasn't sure how long it had been since they separated, but Julie had been skiing solo for a while and was starting to miss her sister's company when her cellphone rang. They agreed to meet up again and ski together for the last few runs of the day—had it been almost a day already?—and then have some early dinner. Having skipped proper breakfast and lunch and gone straight for the Champagne, Julie was really hungry. * * * Somehow, Julie always won out. Ellie knew she couldn't handle the black slopes, the hardest ones, but she had agreed to come up for "just one last run and it'll be wonderful and you can, like, conquer your fear," as her sister expressed it. It wasn't really that she was afraid. If Ellie was trembling now, it was more because the wind was chilly, and also because her need to pee had returned, not because she was afraid. Ellie simply knew that this was not a slope she could handle. Quite likely, she would injure herself somehow on the way down. She wasn't really anxious, at least not in the sense she had been when the police car passed them the day before, her in the driver's seat with no license—she was just unsure how to proceed. Julie decided for her by gently but firmly shoving her down the first of a series of increasingly steeper hills that comprised this slope, one of the black ones, the blackest one, it had seemed to Ellie on the map, zigzagging every which way at impossible angles before joining up with the other pistes at the bottom. At the start, she was in control. She was leaning in the right directions, making sure to make lots of small turns, putting the brakes on her downward motion. She was shifting her weight—and her bladder—to the right, then to the left, slicing up the snow and maintaining control. But then came a curve in which she could, it appeared, only lean one way, and not instantly switch to the other to cancel her momentum. From there it was downhill, in every sense. Ellie was no longer in control. The wind extracted tears behind her sunglasses, even, and her speed was increasing, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet. Then, suddenly, right in front of her was someone who had halted completely in the middle of her path, and she had to make an abrupt turn, and another one in the opposite direction to maintain her balance, but then her movements snowballed, as she had to make increasingly dramatic motions to cancel the momentum of the previous motion, until she had no control at all and lost all connection to the path and had to choose—either staying on the feet, or staying on piste. She decided not to venture outside the marked path, but as she did, she gave up all hope of balance. Ellie was falling, and could only hope that she would fall well. Then there was a sharp pain in her ankle and all was black. * * * "Oh my god!" Julie was crying. "Sis, sis, please wake up! I'm so sorry I talked you into this!" Her foot twisted, one ski stuck in the snow a few feet above them, the other still on her, Ellie was lying in a heap on the slope, unresponsive. Julie turned her around, careful not to further twist her ankle, and she could see now that her sister was alive and awake. "Don't... worry." Said Ellie. "I'm... Alive." Julie's vision was blurred. She couldn't really see her sister's face, but she leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry," Julie repeated. Ellie's eyes were closed now, but she continued to say that she was fine, it was alright, she was even sure she could ski down the hill herself, if only she could rest a bit. A small crowd of fellow skiers had surrounded the sisters. "Are you sure you don't need help?" said one gruff, middle-aged man clad in clothes and gear clearly belonging to a more experienced skier than either of the sisters. Ellie nodded, eyes still closed, and managed to move her foot in a way that seemed to signal it was not as grotesquely bent as it might have looked from a distance. At that, the crowd dispersed. At the same moment, Julie's bladder spasmed, reminding her that she had been holding it all day, and she better not get too silly and emotional or she would get wet and emotional all over her snow suit. Julie's bladder was a rock, and standing still, the pressure was a lot to bear. Now sure that her sister had not been killed or maimed by Julie's stupid eagerness to push her onto the harder pistes, Julie's mind was focused primarily on one task. Holding it. They were in the middle of a prepared slope, surrounded by skiers on all sides, so there was nowhere to go. Except down, of course. Julie knew she had to let her sister recover, but she hoped Ellie would recover soon. The thought did not enter Julie's mind that she might not make it. But still, she was seriously uncomfortable. Julie managed to climb up and retrieve Ellie's missing ski, stopping twice on the way to discreetly squeeze herself through her heavy pants. Once so retrieved, she helped Ellie get her foot straightened—thankfully, this operation seemed not to hurt too much, which Julie took as a good sign—and attached to the ski. Then she sat down on the slope beside Ellie, feeling at once adult and responsible, because that was what she needed to be, the big sister there to help her little sis who fell and got injured—but also helpless and little, because she was having a bathroom crisis and there was no one there to rescue her. Finally, after a small eternity, Ellie got to her feet, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "Alright, let's get down this motherfucking slope. Slowly." Clearly, she was in a foul mood, but whether she was really cross with Julie for pushing her, or simply in pain and determined to get the rest of the hill over with, Julie couldn't tell. Still, she set off on her own two feet again, down the slope. Carefully, Ellie made her way down the last few hills to the bottom, Julie trailing at a close, but safe distance in case either of them fell. I hope to God I don't fall, Julie thought, or I don't know what my bladder will do. It was getting dark, and the closest service center—the closest toilet facilities—was closing down. "Let's just go to the hotel, I need some aspirin," said Ellie, as Julie helped her off with her skis. Walking in the distinctive, distorted ski boot way Julie so despised—at this moment mostly because it slowed her down, and didn't allow her to discreetly hold herself—they approached the hotel and got their skis and helmets into their designated lockers for the night. Then, at Julie's insistence, they hurried to the elevator. "Oh god, I really need to pee," Ellie said as the elevator doors closed. Julie, bending over with legs crossed, in this relative privacy dispensing with discreentess, simply nodded. "Me too." She hadn't counted on her sister's small bladder giving them a scheduling conflict. They had a huge bathroom, but only one small toilet. Both girls hobbled into their room, both in pain, though perhaps for different reasons. Julie grabbed the bathroom handle first, but her sister yelled after her, "Please!" Julie already felt like she owed her sister after the fall, which had, after all, been mostly Julie's fault. As if that wasn't enough, when the room door was closed, Ellie blushed and added, "I need to do the other thing as well." She was clearly uncomfortable. Julie had no choice but to let her sister have the bathroom. "Just be quick about it, please," she said, a little too eagerly, she felt, but then again she was really at the brink. Ellie hobbled into the bathroom without removing any of her clothes, only her skiing boots. Julie felt like her middle region had spontaneously grown another sensory organ, a second heart and a second sight all at once, dedicated purely to torturing her by throbbingly informing her of the state of her bladder. She slowly removed her outerwear, stopping to squeeze and twist and then, letting go of every shade of adulthood, to dance the comic pee dance, from the toe-tips of one foot to the other, jumping up and down with her hands in her crotch. When she got her woolen underpants off and was standing only in panties, shirt, socks and bra, she slipped her fingers inside her panties, almost inside of her, trying to stem the flow. The spasms were now continual, unceasing, like the sea in a storm—ohh, to think of anything except water, vast expanses of it, oceans, oceans inside her! She hadn't thought much of it, but now she remembered her accident from six months before, and she remembered how she had simply lost control at once then, going from dam to waterfall and adult to child in a heartbeat, but this time, it was different. This time, she wasn't triggered by laughter. She had simply waited too long. She felt the first few drops moisten her fingers, and she felt the fabric encasing her grow a little tighter just there. Determined to hold on still, and fully committed to the idea that her sister would get out of the bathroom any second now and she could hobble in there and release the flood into the toilet, Julie made an overconfident move. She pee-danced her way to her baggage, bent over and retrieved the tight jeans she had planned to wear to dinner. In a minute she would go pee in the toilet, and then she and her sister would go to dinner, and she would blow on her sister's wounds, and they would laugh and forget all this. Julie started threading herself into the jeans, which were tight even with a flat tummy, but were now like a corset over her bulging bladder. Julie had made two crucial mistakes. One was thinking she could stand even a tiny bit more pressure on her bladder. The other was thinking Ellie would be done and the toilet ready for her to use immediately. Both were wrong. As Julie buttoned her jeans, she had her first real leak. It was like someone had temporarily cut the wires between her sphincter and her brain, and she felt nothing for a second, and then warmth, but no relief. Julie looked down. Blooming around the lower of her two jeans buttons, about two inches across, was a wet spot. Her panties were now definitely peed in, and she felt icky and disgusted. What the hell could her sister be doing? Julie hobbled over to the bathroom door, but found it locked. "Ellie, please! I need the bathroom!" Then she heard it: running water. Someone was running water, a lot of it, just on the other side of that door. There was a sharp pain. Her bladder contracted. Her muscles resisted. The wires were cut again. This time the power didn't come on in her lower regions until she was at her knees, three seconds later, and there was a small pool of pee in her lap, glistening on her thighs. Her jeans were dark, but not that dark, and she was rapidly approaching the point of no return: the point where it would be impossible to deny, even to herself, that she had an accident. The panties were a lost case. Banging on the door, Julie yelled: "Ellie, please, I'm peeing!" That was the end. Sitting on her knees before the bathroom door like at an altar, her tight jeans straining against her bladder, somewhat sagging in the back to reveal a peek of her red, wet panties, she spasmed and could not resist. This time, her nerves and her brain remained in contract, but they refused to cooperate, and Julie began peeing forcefully into her own lap, so forcefully it was soon overflowing while also pushing itself down her thighs, down her butt, pooling in the seat of her pants, wetting her jeans so fully that by the time she was done, her dark gray jeans had nary a dry spot on them, front or back. Tears began to fall into the puddle, and she was shaking, and with each shake there were more droplets. Julie surrendered to a familiar helplessness, like she had done when she was little and lost, separated from her mom at the mall, too old to get lost like that and get the employees to call for her mom on the intercom and vaguely embarrassed by it, but also completely helpess to do anything about the situation. Julie was like a child, now at the mercy of others, giving up agency, crying loudly. She remembered when her mom used to get like she sometimes used to get, the way Ellie had forgotten, and she remembered other times, too, when she had been unable to act her age and had fallen into this state. She remembered, but she could do nothing about it, and remained in her puddle. She could scarcely concentrate on anything except two things: the icky feeling of wet, cooling cloth clinging to her, and the orgasmic feeling of relief from pain. The bathroom lock clicked open from the inside, and with effort, Julie managed to drag herself up to reach the handle. The door swung open, revealing to Ellie her sister sat in a puddle of urine, shaking, soaked and crying; and to Julie, her sister nude in the jacuzzi, jacket, snow pants and wet woolen underclothes heaped on the floor. Edited July 18, 2013 by satyr (see edit history) TheGreatNobody, aumonier, Gaarm and 11 others 14 Quote Link to comment
Gaarm 253 Posted July 20, 2013 Share Posted July 20, 2013 This is honestly one of the best stories I've read on here in a very long time. You did a great job and this was an absolute pleasure to read. Thanks. I hope you have some other ideas for these characters. Quote Link to comment
frostyjr2 1,305 Posted July 20, 2013 Share Posted July 20, 2013 WOW ! So awesome... and somehow i get the feeling that we're not done yet; after all, the girls are there for the weekend, right ? Quote Link to comment
YuugiOrichalcosKing 8 Posted July 20, 2013 Share Posted July 20, 2013 This was amazingly awesome. Please continue! Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted July 22, 2013 Author Share Posted July 22, 2013 (edited) "So it happened when you fell?" "Yes." Ellie blushed. "And maybe a little bit on the way down after." "That's all right," the doctor informed her. He was Aussie and looked like he had just walked out of a reality show about young, attractive surfers. His presence as a resident at a ski resort was a mystery to Ellie, but his attractiveness was not. Ellie didn't know if she was blushing because of the stupid reason she was there or because she was being cared for by this ridiculously hot guy. "This problem is actually quite common in young women," he continued. "Really?" Ellie blushed again. "Yes. Of course, I see it more often in young men. They want to look tough and impress beautiful young women like yourselves"—at this point, Ellie's face turned into a semi-permanent shade of red—"so they go to the toughest, meanest-looking slope and then they fall and break their legs. Trust me, I've never seen anyone look tough fighting tears in an ambulance with multiple fractures." As he was saying this, he was holding her injured ankle tenderly, slowly stroking it, as if that could make her feel better. It did make her feel better, although not because it hurt any less. "But it doesn't look like you've broken anything. We can do an X-Ray if you want to make sure, but I don't think that will be necessary. I'll just advise you to relax and feel it out, and sit out if it hurts too much to go skiing. A holiday isn't worth risking your health over." They had gone to the ER—this resort was in the middle of nowhere, and no one really lived there all year, but due to the frequency of skiing and snowboarding accidents, there was a small emergency room that was operational in the winter season, located in the basement of the new, shiny hotel—because Julie insisted. Ellie felt fine. Her ankle hurt, but she was sure nothing was broken, so she figured there was nothing to do except tough it out. Tomorrow, she would surely be better, and they could ski again as if nothing had happened. She had been able to finish the run down the hill on her own two feet, after all, and that alone indicated that nothing could be seriously wrong. Ellie didn't exactly have the highest pain threshold in the world, and even if she could somehow have supported her modest weight on a broken leg, the pain would surely have been too much. Going to the ER over such a silly little thing would be embarrassing, like she was a child who couldn't cope unless someone blew on her wounds, and so had to seek out a doctor when her mom wasn't present. But Julie had been so concerned about her after Julie's own accident that she'd almost cried when Ellie refused to go, and so she had relented. Ellie had peed herself a little bit when she fell. Thankfully, the doctor didn't get to hear that part of the story. Then she had leaked a bit again in the elevator. When Julie allowed her to go first in the bathroom, she had hobbled in without taking off her snowpants, hoping to hide her accident from her sister. By the time she was undressed, however, she had leaked some more, and as she sat on the toilet, finishing up her pee, she realized she was too far gone: she would need to bathe and change now before facing her sister anyway. She was embarrassed because of her pee accident, and in pain due to her skiing accident, and these factors clouded her mind, and she simply didn't think about her sister's own urgent need. After all, despite the previous day's desperation, and the one accident at the dinner table, Julie was the one who never had to pee. Ellie wasn't used to considering her sister's bathroom needs, since Ellie was the one with the small bladder, and her sister apparently had such a large one that bathroom compromises were never an issue. So she had run a bath, undressed and gotten in, existing in her own world, just trying to luxuriate in the hot water and the clean, urine-free feeling of getting out of her stained clothes and washing up. It wasn't until her sister banged loudly on the door and announced that she was actually peeing that Ellie realized her blunder. She did promise to be quick about it, and she had broken her promise due to inattention. Despite being pushed by her sister, Ellie knew that it was ultimately her decision to let herself be convinced—no one was forcibly pulling her onto the lift and shuttling her onto the highest mountain top with no way down except by skiing. It was her own fault she fell, and she didn't blame her sister for it, and so had not intended to deliberately keep her sister waiting as some sort of petty revenge, although she worried, now, after what happened, whether that was what her sister thought. She had unlocked the door, but it was too late. Her sister was a mess. Julie was sitting in an ocean of urine, if nothing else attesting to the enormous volume she could contain before her bladder burst. Her jeans were wet all over, and even her shirt was stained. She was sobbing so hard that her entire upper body was shaking, and too embarrassed or scared to even look Ellie in the eyes. Julie usually sported a look that, if it didn't kill, had doomed dozens of high school boys to eternal unrequited love. She would look you directly in the eyes and sort of smirk, before looking away as if she were shy, but locking eyes again so quickly that you sensed she wasn't. The effect was electric, almost impossible not to be charmed by, even for Ellie, who had grown up with that look, and yet Julie did it all unconsciously. She'd never kissed a boy and yet she was an unwitting master seductress. But now, she had lost all of that confidence—that supreme certainty of her own value that she had simply because, unlike other, more cynical people, people who had been hurt before, no reason to doubt it had ever occurred to her. Ellie recognized this transformation from Julie's previous accident. It was a shyer, more helpless side of Julie that seemed to come out when she did something she wasn't supposed to do at her age. Now that she thought about it, Ellie thought she had seen glimpses of it at other times, when Julie had said something so particularly childish that even as she said it, she realized how it must sound, or when she had clumsily bumped into something at home as if she were a child first learning to walk. Those times, though, it had gone away in a moment, but Ellie sensed that this was more serious. If she was going to help her sister, she would have to treat her like a child. Yet true to her form, there was something seductive even to this side of Julie. She was so adorably helpless that Ellie just wanted to take care of her. "Oh, Julie," she said. "Did you have an accident?" It was the sort of dumb rhetorical question her mom used to ask her and Julie when they were younger. If she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar before dinner time, or inside with a trail of dirty footprints behind her, or in bed with wet bedsheets, her mom would ask if she had done what she had very clearly done. It was her way of signaling that she was disappointed, but not mad. Everything would be okay. Ellie couldn't remember her mom ever being angry or strict with her, except a couple times when her mom had been drunk, like that time when she had offered them wine. This was the demeanor Ellie adopted to deal with Julie's accident. She sensed that her own little bathroom incident could easily be swept under the rug due to Julie's present condition, and she seized the opportunity. Julie nodded, eyes still directed towards the centre of her puddle. "My ankle still hurts, but if you can manage to walk to the bathtub, I'll take care of you," Ellie said. Her sister slowly lifted her eyes, then rose on unsteady feet, as if the exertion of peeing her pants so completely had exhausted her. She walked the three steps to the bathtub with unusual attention devoted to her toe-tips. "Look at me," Ellie said. Her sister raised her head again to meet her eyes, and in her makeup-smeared face, Ellie saw a look of desperation. It was like her eyes were yelling, Please help me. Please take care of me and tell me everything will be OK. So that was exactly what Ellie did. "Wow, you're soaked! Let me take off your shirt," Ellie said, and had Julie lift her hands above her head while she slid the shirt off, just like her mom used to do when she bathed Ellie when she was still in kindergarten. Next came her bra, and Julie was naked above the waist. "Your pants must be icky. They're so wet we'll need to wash them before we go anyway. Why don't you simply step into the tub with me in your wet pants, and get them cleaned up right away?" Julie had done as she was told, climbing into the jacuzzi with her jeans, panties and socks still on. It wasn't like her garments could absorb much more liquid anyway, but this way, at least her pants wouldn't stink of piss for the rest of the weekend. Ellie didn't share this concern with her sister, though, fearing it would further upset her. "Hey, I know, why don't we turn the bubbles on?" As she did, Julie's eyes lighted up again for the first time since her accident, and she was overtaken by a look of absolute wonder. The bubbles were a magic trick to Julie, and she was spellbound. "Did you hold it too long?" Ellie asked. "Y-yeah." Her sister was blushing again. "I—I thought I could hold it." "Promise me you'll go the next time you feel the urge?" Julie nodded earnestly. "Pinky swear, I'll go," and she even crossed her fingers. Ellie was reminded of her sister's eye-rolling at the gas station when she'd suggested Julie might want to use the bathroom. After the bath, Ellie undressed Julie, hung the wet clothes over the tub to dry, and dressed herself. She then led her sister by the hand to her bag and found a bra, socks, pantyhose, panties and a pretty, flowery summer dress which her sister had brought despite the season. Ellie figured little girls want to feel like princesses. Julie just stood there, still nude, looking at her expectantly, so Ellie started dressing her. If her mom had treated Ellie like a small child after one of her accidents, one of the numerous times she had woken up in a wet and cold bed, it would have felt condescending. She was not a child, she was almost an adult, and that was the way she wanted to be treated. Accidents were childish, inappropriate at her age, and babying her afterwards would only serve to confirm that, while treating her like an adult would reassure her that she wasn't a baby after all. On Julie, however, all this hand-holding and babying apparently had the opposite effect. To her, it was reassuring; being cared for meant she was loved and therefore loveable, valuable, and that was what she craved in her moment of weakness. While dressing her, Ellie started telling old jokes, ones that had ceased to be funny to her years ago. For each joke, Julie's smile widened further, and by the time Ellie was helping her into her dress, Julie was telling her own silly, stupid jokes. That was when Julie had remembered Ellie's injury and become very concerned that she had quite possibly broken every bone in her body, including those in the inner ear and the nose, and it was absolutely necessary for them to go to the ER to get it checked out. When Ellie expressed skepticism, tears began to well in her sister's eyes, and Ellie quickly agreed to go after all. That was where she was now, and the young, attractive doctor was handing her two pills wrapped in plastic. "If the pain gets bad, you can take these. But be careful: they will impair your ability to drive, and the same goes for skiing." That concluded the seance with the doctor, and Ellie jumped down from the examination table to leave. Her sister, heavy winter jacket wrapped over her floral dress, was sitting in a chair. When she got up, Ellie thought she caught a glimpse of something shimmery where she'd sat. When she passed the chair, it was obvious. As soon as the door to the examination room was closed, Ellie grabbed Julie's hand and dragged her into a bathroom. "Julie, honey, I think you need to pee again," Ellie said in her sweetest voice. "Noooooooo?" her sister said, dragging the no out from a firm statement to an uncertain question. Ellie unbuttoned her sister's jacket, and when this prompted no protests, she continued by dragging Julie's dress up and her pantyhose down, exposing a pair of Hello Kitty panties with a wet spot on them. As if startled by this discovery, a small trickle escaped Julie, caught in the pantyhose resting between her knees. "I—um, I didn't realize," she said. "Would you like to do that in a toilet?" Ellie asked. Julie walked over to the toilet, slid down her panties, and started to pee. She peed for a long while; clearly, her bladder had managed to fill again. This time, she was blushing, clearly still in her childish mindspace, but at least she didn't cry. Ellie decided that now would be a good time to start the transition back into adulthood, so she allowed her sister to dress herself again and wash her hands without saying anything—not making a big deal of it, the way Ellie wanted to be treated if she had an accident. Then she grabbed her sister's hand and they walked together back to their hotel, through the glitzy lobby of the new one. On their way they passed at least one person whom Ellie thought she knew from tv, or maybe from a film. * * * Julie's memory worked by a process of emotional amplification. Perhaps that was why she had such a hard time learning her multiplication tables. There wasn't much emotion to 6×7. Her memory of yesterday went: They had champagne in the bath. Ellie fell and hurt her ankle. Julie peed her pants. Ellie helped her clean up and took care of her. They visited the ER. She fell asleep with her head on Ellie's chest. Everything else, everything that fell short of emotional significance, fell away. These were the organizing principles of her memory: excitement, fear, embarrassment, joy, love. Perhaps that was why her best subjects had always been languages. Writing, to her, was always a challenge, until a teacher told her to write down what she felt, exactly like she would tell a friend about it. Since then, Julie had developed a fluent, extremely verbal style for which her teachers went wild, and which suggested to her that perhaps being a writer was her calling, although it didn't feel exactly right, just falling into a profession, a lifestyle like that. Everything else about the day before was already in a blur, faded like yesterday's multiplication tables washed out on a blackboard. Today, she would write new memories over them, amplify the ones that spiked her emotions, and wash the rest out, and thus, quickly, the details of the day would be gone forever. If someone wanted to commit the perfect crime, Julie would be the perfect witness. She would tell the police all about how scared she was, but she wouldn't be able to tell them anything about either the victim or the perpetrator. Like a child, her world was centered on her own emotions. Some of her memories from this day, now quickly receding: she woke up still resting on her sister, overjoyed with the promise of a new day. Sometime later, Ellie declared that she was in too much pain to go skiing, so the sisters had decided to enjoy their luxury hotel, to pretend they were superstars and enjoy all the comforts of their sweet lodgings. After another bubble bath, they had explored the hotel, and Ellie had told her a scary story about another hotel that supposedly had a haunted floor, a floor inaccessible except by chance—if you took a certain elevator, a small percentage of the time, you would end up on a floor that didn't really exist, between floors, all dark, where a man who dressed in grotesque animal costumes supposedly lived and dispensed his life wisdom to whoever stumbled into his domain. It wasn't this hotel, though, Ellie assured her, but Julie still spent the day worrying whenever they took the elevator. After a fine dinner at the hotel's restaurant, they had gotten dressed up and gone over to the other hotel, because Julie had remembered her sister's promise to get her a kiss from a hot guy. But her hopes were dashed when her sister was carded at the entrance to the hotel's bar. Julie, although probably also too young, had easily charmed her way in by winking at the doorman, but she wouldn't go in without her sister. Instead, they had ended up ordering more wine from room service and drinking it in their room. After a glass, Ellie informed her that she had taken the pain pills a couple hours before, because her foot hurt. Julie was worried: she had a vague idea that maybe mixing pain pills with alcohol wasn't such a stellar idea. Ellie didn't die, but she did get roaring drunk off one glass of wine, stumbling around the room like she'd had fifteen shots. Thankfully, she didn't puke, but Julie found it best to get her to bed. This time, her sister fell asleep resting on her. * * * "Wake up! You're peeing!" Ellie, still somewhat drunk, rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a thud. Lying there, she continued to pee through her panties. The pee pooled between her legs, and her light pink panties turned red and see-through. "Julie, please, the bathroom," she said, and her sister got out of bed—she had slept naked, Ellie noticed—and put Ellie's arm around her shoulder, half carrying her to the toilet. Ellie sat down and finished peeing. It wasn't until she was done that she noticed she'd forgotten to lower her panties. They had taken the full force, absorbing a complete accident. Ellie would have been embarrassed, but her world was still lurching around her, and she still felt like she might throw up if she didn't concentrate on not throwing up, so she was kind of preoccupied and didn't have much space in her head for embarrasment. Instead, she told a bold lie. "Told you I'd piss on the bourgeoisie," she said. "I waited 'till the last night, so we wouldn't have to sleep in a wet bed." Not even her sister could be dull enough to believe this lie, but Ellie didn't care. In her current state, her accident amused her. She pictured herself on a swing high up over a crowd, like a performer at a circus, except her audience would consist only of the richest bastards in the world, and she'd piss all over them. The best part was that they'd pay her to do it. She'd convince them it was healthy or something. Rich bastards would pay for anything as long as they saw someone richer than them paying for it. Ellie laughed heartily at her own crazy idea. She began to realize why people liked being drunk. It was fun to be stupid, sometimes. Ellie slipped off her wet panties and washed them in the sink. "I'll just hang them to dry with your pissy clothes, sis," she said, and stuck her tongue out. Julie laughed. Ellie was glad her sister was back to her old, cheery self. It was like she just had to be comforted a little and fall asleep, and then a flip switched: when she awoke, she was out of her helpless, childish mode and back to normal. It was early morning. At least that's what the clock told them, although outside it was still dark as night. This was their last day: they had to check out of the hotel and drive home. It was a Monday and they were supposed to be at school, but their mom had implicitly agreed that it was all right for them to skip a day by booking the room for them until today. Both girls had great attendance records. It wasn't like one day would get them kicked out or their grades lowered. Besides, this was the greatest, the most expensive, the fanciest birthday gift of all time, and they deserved to enjoy it for that extra day. Since they had to get up in a few hours anyway, and both girls were quite awake by the time Ellie had gotten changed into clean panties, they decided to simply call it a day and leave the comfy hotel bed behind. Instead, they would take a long hot bath in the jacuzzi—their first, and probably last experience with one in a long time—and then enjoy the hotel breakfast, which they had skipped twice, first because they decided to drink Champagne instead, then because they overslept, piled on top of each other. Their mom always said hotel breakfasts were the best, the most lavish buffets they had ever seen, and the fancier the hotel, the greater the selection at breakfast. As they were being massaged by bubbles, Julie suddenly said, "I know what I'm doing for college." "Oh?" Ellie was intrigued. She couldn't really picture her sister as anything other than a high school student. "I'm going to be a writer." Ellie didn't know what she had expected, but whatever it was, it wasn't that. Her sister's apparent lack of any ability to reflect deeply on anything seemed to disqualify her from the hallowed halls of literature. There was always another shiny thing to distact Julie before her thoughts ranged too far. But perhaps that was her strength. Literature needs some naiveté as a counter-balance to all the theoretical dick-measuring contests. Many writers were interested in the naive, and tried to write in a naive style, but they rarely got it right. They were too jaded, too cynical, too reflective people. They could never properly get into the head of a person like Julie: a spontaneous, naive, optimistic, attention deficient, childish, delightful and accidentally seductive creature like her sister. Maybe that's where Julie could shine. "That's great," Ellie said. "I'd love to see you write the next great novel." Still, as they drove home later that day, Ellie wondered how her sister would ever survive in college without her. And when she considered this weekend, she wondered a little how she would cope without her sister too. (Author's note: this is the last part of this saga. I might return to the characters in the future, as I already have some potential ideas, but I want to give them, and myself, some breathing room. Also: if anyone can tell me which novel Ellie stole her scary hotel story from, that would be fun.) Edited July 22, 2013 by satyr (see edit history) aumonier95, WiiGuy86, Gaarm and 1 other 4 Quote Link to comment
bubbcat 13 Posted July 22, 2013 Share Posted July 22, 2013 Great story. Maybe you could do some one shots of Julie wetting herself in college during a lecture or something. Either way great series of stories. Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 23, 2013 Author Share Posted August 23, 2013 (edited) So much. A loud spattering, only partially masked by the ambient noise. A river trickling down the aisle. So much. Wait, back up. Her sister had become a latter-day hippie. Yes, that's where it started. Ellie was greeted at the airport by her sister wearing, no kidding, a colorful hairband and a flowery sundress with a giant PEACE button affixed to the chest with a similarly oversized safety pin. And she was barefoot. She didn't appear to be wearing a bra underneath. As they hugged, Ellie was sure: she definitely wasn't. She didn't recognize Julie's outfit, but she did recognize her sister's bright smile and radiant personality. 'Oh how have you been it's so good to see you you got so see our apartment and oh the campus it's so lovely come,' she said in one long sentence, not stopping to take a breath after each sentence fragment, simply modulating her voice up and down where you'd expect a pause. Ellie had visited her sister shortly after she began college, and seen her briefly at Christmas—Julie had been too busy with her new friends to spend more than a few days at home during the holiday, which had secretly bothered Ellie, but she had said nothing, as she supposed Julie simply didn't think things through and went with whatever idea seemed good in the moment (a spontaneous roadtrip over New Year's, apparently), simply blind to the fact that she might hurt someone's feelings in the process—but this was the first time she would actually stay with her sister, and it was already well into spring, almost finals time. Julie was characteristically unworried about studying, but still managed to get decent grades—if by 'decent' you meant just about the class average in every class. Ellie was excited about seeing her sister, about seeing the apartment and meeting her roommate, and especially about seeing the college, which was where she intended to head in the fall. During the car ride from the airport, Ellie learned all about Julie's roommate, who Ellie guessed was the source of all this hippie stuff. Coincidentally, she was named Juliet and apparently went by 'Jules.' Julie and Jules. How about that. Student housing was scattered around the city at a dozen different locations, some close to the campus and some on the other side of town, not all centered on the actual campus as at some colleges. Julie, however, had been lucky. She'd arrived one day before orientation week began with no place to stay and stayed in a hotel, then befriended a girl who'd already gotten herself a sweet apartment five minutes from campus through family connections—Jules—the very next day, and promptly moved into the apartment's spare bedroom. Julie parked in a parking spot designated '110-2C' and led Ellie to a second-floor apartment. After taking off her shoes in the spacious hall, they entered the combined living area and kitchen, which was equally spacious and equipped with what looked like factory new, neatly clean furniture. In the living room portion were a three-seat sofa strewn with heart-shaped, apparently handmade pillows, a table, a reclining chair and a large flatscreen tv set. In a corner near a window stood a large potted cactus. On the wall was a poster extolling the virtues of P(eace)L(ove)U(nity)R(espect), and in the ceiling hung what looked like a large, colorful dreamcatcher. 'Wow, this is really nice,' Ellie said. 'Yeah I know. I can't believe the rent I'm paying for this, it's so low. I'm really the luckiest girl in the world, aren't I?' her sister said and laughed. Ellie couldn't quite determine if she was annoyed or endeared by her sister's odd inflection, something that hadn't been present in their weekly Skype sessions; it must be something she'd affected recently. Ellie didn't get much time to mull it over, as she was startled by a third person entering the room. 'Oh!' said the girl, whom Ellie presumed to be Jules. Jules was naked, tracking water droplets, her hair wrapped in a towel. 'I didn't realize you'd be here so soon. You're Ellie, right? I'm Jules,' she said, stretching out her hand for a greeting. Ellie didn't know what to make of it. There was the striking disparity between her physical features and her voice: she was tall, thin and blonde, with large breasts prominently on display in her nudity, but her hoarse voice involuntarily brought to mind a middle-aged, chain-smoking stereotype. And there was the fact that she was completely unembarrassed by her nudity and proceeded as if standing there shaking hands while one party is in the nude is perfectly normal. She could at least have the decency to take the towel off her head and cover up her crotch. What was this, a nudist colony? Hippies and nudists now? Hopefully Julie hadn't turned into this. Ellie liked to see herself as open-minded, but this was a little much to swallow. Hesitating, she took Jules' hand and nodded. Jules smiled and ran off into a different room. Hopefully to put on some clothes, Ellie reflected, although who knows what outfits she'd wear, considering what Julie looked like. The place was spotlessly clean, but her sister was tracking dirt with her bare soles. 'Why aren't you wearing any shoes, anyway?' Ellie said, trying not to yell out why the fuck is your roommate greeting me naked. 'Oh! I'll clean it up after I show you some things. You wouldn't believe it, but Jules is kind of a neat freak. I'll clean it up soon, promise. I love walking barefoot when I can. It's so much more natural, and today is such a hot beautiful day! My soles are so thick now!' Clearly she wasn't cleaning anything up anytime soon. 'So. That was your roommate,' Ellie said. 'Yeah. Isn't she great?' * * * Jules was physically preparing the mushroom tea while she was trying to mentally prepare Julie for the trip ahead of her. It was her first time. She'd been curious, not in the rebellious way of a teen who wants to oppose the supposed wisdom of her parents and their doomsday prophesies about drug use, but more in the way that a child is curious about anything new that appears on her horizon. Jules considered this attitude to be imperative when dealing with psychedelics. She'd considered cutting up the San Pedro and extracting mescaline, but in the end she'd decided that her friend's mushroom hookup would be a better alternative for Julie's first trip. Jules had tripped herself on numerous occasions—LSD, 2C-B, DMT, mescaline, magic mushrooms—and considered herself something of a cross between a shaman and a tour guide to an alien country. They'd been talking about this for months, and now that they had the mushrooms in their possession, she'd picked them up the day before in fact, Julie was too impatient to wait until her sister was gone. The day before they'd showed Ellie around campus and made sure she knew her way around and back to the apartment, and then sent her off to look around for herself and talk to some of the student counselors about her own application, soon due. They'd have some hours to themselves, and Julie had begged her to try the mushrooms now. 'Ellie won't mind, she'd never try something like that herself but she's pretty cool, she always supports me. If we time it right I'll be coming down before we meet up again, right?' Julie said. Jules had agreed. She was a little apprehensive about Julie's sister being there and not knowing, but she was too excited to initiate her friend into the exploration of the psychedelic landscape to wait much longer herself. According to Jules, a small mushroom dose that just got you to the edge was inappropriate from beginners. They might be unimpressed and swear off psychs as overhyped bullshit. The opposite, having a terrifying bad trip, was definitely bad, too, but she'd be there the whole way. Tripping is a lot like returning to childhood, but a weirdly twisted, fractal rainbow version of childhood, and having a babysitter to 'tripsit' you is a good way to ensure the trip will be a pleasant and enlightening one. Hippie and psychedelic culture teaches that it is not the chemical, but the set (mindset) and setting of taking it which determines whether the trip is a good or a bad one. Jules had ground up a medium dose of dried mushrooms and let them soak in lemon juice for half an hour. This lemon tek was to ensure that the psilocybin in the shrooms is converted into psilocin, the active component. Normally this takes place in the stomach, but the lemon juice does it for you, ensuring that the trip comes on faster and harder than otherwise. 'I'm so excited! What do you think I'll see?' Julie said. 'It's hard to predict. Pretty colors, certainly. The secrets of the universe, possibly. Just don't get the idea into your head that you'll see, like, giant spiders crawling everywhere or everyone will turn into lizards like in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That stuff doesn't happen on shrooms.' Jules poured hot water over the mushrooms and let them soak, then strained the water into another cup. Julie downed the tea, and then Jules repeated the process several times, making Julie drink more tea in order to ensure that none of the active components were left over. The upside of this technique was that you didn't have to actually eat the mushrooms, which could be unpleasant and hard on the stomach. The downside was that you might have to drink a lot. Jules didn't want Julie to have a bad first trip, and she considered a weak trip a bad one, so she repeated the straining and pouring water a couple times more than might be strictly necessary, in order to be extra sure that none of the mushrooms went to waste. 'How do you feel?' Jules asked when Julie was finally done. 'I feel... Normal.' 'That's fine. It doesn't come on quite that fast. But soon enough you'll be tripping balls, I guarantee it. Let's go outside, it's always better to trip around nature if you can,' Jules said, and, taking Julie's hand, led her out of the apartment. In between the college campus and their apartment was a large park, a natural park of preserved forest and grassland in the city rather than a manicured and pedicured astroturf fake park. They used to cut across it every day to get to campus. On a hot, sunny spring day like today, it would be perfect for their purposes. A pleasant stroll, literally stopping to smell the flowers. Jules was wearing an airy blouse with generous cleavage and a psychedelic print over jeans shorts, in the spirit of the experience. Julie was wearing similar denim shorts with suspenders, a romper almost, over a plain shirt finger-painted in all the colors of the rainbow by an older, mutual friend's toddler son. She looked five years younger than she was. Although you'd think it would be too early in the season for shorts, it was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. After a while—Jules didn't keep track of time with a watch, preferring to let the experience unfold as naturally as possible, despite the fact that she was simply the sober companion—Julie seemed to be coming up. 'Oh!' she said. 'Look!' She pointed at some flowers, then bent down on her knees and stared intently into the grass. 'It's so... I've never noticed that before,' Julie said, apparently glossing over some incommunicable quality to the grass. Jules was an experienced tripper and had a good idea what it was Julie was trying, but not trying to say. Probably the colors were intense and the natural patterns of the grass blades amplified, mirrored, full of symmetries invisible to the sober eye. But more importantly, they would have a greater significance that we are all blind to, thinking it is simply grass, boring grass, nothing more. On shrooms everything seems important, everything seems good. Nature especially. Jules had often thought that if everyone simply tried mushrooms, politicians and corporate bosses in particular, pollution would be halved in an instant. Everyone would realize the importance of preserving our planet's ecosystems. They spent some time walking around, Julie alternating between periods of quiet contemplation—judging by the intense look on her face—and a running commentary on the amazingness of everything in their path. It would have been perfect if Jules' phone hadn't vibrated. It was on 'vibrate only,' but not turned off completely, because Jules had an idea that there might be something important today that she'd forgotten about, so she figured she'd leave it on just in case, even though cellphones kind of ruined the sanctity of the experience. There was something she had forgotten. Her phone buzzed and vibrated, and after a while she could no longer ignore it and had to take the call. It was her boyfriend, who was furious that she hadn't been around to pick up her art as she'd promised. Her boyfriend was moving today, and she had made him promise not to throw away any of the various art projects she'd left in various states of completion around his place, but now he really was on his way to leave the keys with the owner and was threatening to let his roommates deal with all the art—and knowing them, that would mean they'd probably throw it away in a heartbeat, if not burn it just to spite her (they'd never liked Jules, for some reason, always referring to her by unpleasant names like 'hippie slut' and 'attention whore' when they thought she wasn't listening). Abandoning Julie at the height of her trip wasn't ideal, in case anything went wrong, but Julie seemed to be in the perfect state of mind, so surely stepping away for forty minutes to sort out the art issue at her boyfriend's campus apartment wouldn't be too bad? 'How are you?' Jules asked. 'Fantastic!' Julie replied, her face grinning wider than ever. 'Listen, I kind of, uh, I have a thing I really need to sort out, I'll only be an hour tops. Is that all right with you? Can you handle things on your own for an hour?' she asked. 'Sure! In fact, you know, this is all so wonderful, I think I'd like to be alone in nature a bit anyway. I'll be here or, like, at the apartment if not, so we'll meet up here or there, ok?' Jules nodded, then ran off to save her art from the unappreciative hands of her boyfriend's roommates. * * * Everything was new to Julie. She had always had the ability to see the wonderful nature of everything, retaining the childlike wonder at nature for quite a bit longer than most of her friends, who decided at an early age that nature was boring (unless it was adrenaline-rushingly exciting, like going downhill skiing, then it was bearable). But this was something new. Everything was exciting, everything familiar looked new. For a while, 'boring' became a string of meaningless sounds to her; she couldn't imagine what being bored was like, even though she was impatient and frequently got bored in a sober state. How come no one realized how fascinating a blade of grass could be? But then gradually something happened. The trip was taking a darker turn. Julie couldn't understand quite why. The visuals were unchanged, but now there was a sinister undertone to everything. The shadows of the trees seemed to comprise scowling faces, the few clouds in the blue sky seemed to have faces also, faces somehow disapproving. Her body, too, felt vaguely uncomfortable, as if there was something wrong with it, as if the proportions weren't right, as if her stomach was separate from the rest of her body, perhaps, although she couldn't quite put her finger on what specifically was wrong. Nevertheless, her cheery mood was giving way, and she remembered Jules' advice about set and setting. Perhaps changing the setting would help her avoid descending into a bad trip. Luckily, she had walked to the edge of the park that directly abutted campus, so she walked out of the park and began strolling between the buildings. This didn't improve things. Although there were less disapproving faces hiding in the shadows here, faces she knew weren't real, but felt anyway, she still felt like her body had become fundamentally disjointed from the universe, had been painfully seared from it in some way. She felt lost and alone. The trip was going south fast and the change of scenery wasn't helping. Then she started to become aware of the source of her problem: she had to pee. She really, really had to pee. Realizing that this was the cause of her worries, and that a simple trip to the bathroom could solve it, she became calmer. The building panic in her stomach decreased, though the dull pain did not. But then it turned out finding a bathroom wasn't that simple in her state, and even though she knew logically that there was nothing wrong with her except for a bladder in need of emptying, she still felt as though something more was fundamentally wrong. She was lost. The buildings were all familiar, but Julie had a poor sense of direction at the best of times—boys were good at spatial reasoning, she had read in her psychology class, while girls were worse but better at emotional understanding and interpersonal relations, and she embodied this—and right now, she was severely impaired. She could walk fine, unlike when drunk, and all the buildings looked familiar, but they felt different, alien. Julie navigated by emotions, not by logic, and right now her emotions were all messed up. She had no idea where there was a bathroom, and she couldn't find her way back to the park where she might simply have squatted in some bushes. Suddenly Julie felt an odd, painful sensation in the pit of her stomach, like an alien pinching a nerve from some higher dimension, and she remembered a moment too late to clench down there. Following it was another odd, uncomfortable sensation. Julie had to look down to confirm her suspicions: there was a coin-sized wet spot in the crotch of her shorts. Her situation was more dire than she had thought. But she could find no relief. She was clenching like a madwoman and stopping to bend and twist every few steps. The campus seemed to her to have become an infinite maze, a labyrinth slowly filling with water, and she had to run to stay ahead. But she didn't know the way, and every time she found a blind alley, she had to double back frantically before the stream caught up with her. A couple of times, it did: she and the river met at a junction and she had to struggle to maintain a lead, getting her bare feet wet—which is to say, spurting a little. She had to look down every time to confirm that the wet spot had not expanded; she didn't trust her senses. She searched building after building, although there was nothing methodical about her search, and she ended up speedwalking in circles, stopping to grab herself when she thought no one was watching. There was no bathroom to be found. A few places, there were people around that she could have asked. Normally, Julie had not a bit of shyness in her, and could easily have strolled into an ongoing lecture and asked the lecturer for the nearest bathroom if need be, but right now, she was unsure of how to proceed. Language was rapidly losings its meaning. It wasn't like she had forgotten the word 'bathroom,' exactly, but saying the word in her head, it felt wrong to her. It felt like the sounds in 'bathroom' might signify something entirely different, like maybe what it really meant was sandwich. The relationship between sign and signified, between word and the thing itself had never seemed as arbitrary as right now. She approached an Asian-looking kid sitting on a bench, hunched over a thick red book. 'Hi,' she managed, but what followed was simply a series of garbled sounds. She was entirely capable of talking, it wasn't like her brain and her tongue had stopped cooperating, but every time she started to say something, it felt odd, so she caught herself and tried using a different word, which sounded equally odd, so she tried a third word, and the result was a curious word salad that signified nothing. She blushed, then turned and powerwalked around the corner without saying goodbye. She really needed to get behind that corner so she could hold herself. Had there been no corner to walk around, she would have wet herself right there, right in front of this guy, all the while mumbling incomprehensible sequences of sounds. He would have thought she was an escaped mental patient, incapable of either speech or bladder control. She thought she might be on the verge of wetting anyway. The stream was catching up and the maze was constricting around her, the corridors narrowing, choking her. She couldn't be sure, as she still felt somewhat divorced from her physical body. She was shaking and felt like crying. That was the moment she ran into her sister. 'Oh, hi!' Ellie said. 'I was just done talking with one of the counselors here. She was really helpful!' Her sister was beaming. Julie wanted nothing more than to communicate take me to a bathroom right now, but she couldn't find the right words, or the right words didn't feel right, so she said nothing except 'Hi,' then put on a fake smile designed to distract Ellie from her predicament and from her enormous pupils. A dumb 'everything is ok, mommy, I totally didn't break an expensive vase or anything' look. Totally not minutes away from wetting myself while peaking on mushrooms. 'So the counselor lady told me about this great bookstore that has some good books about, like, transitioning from high school to college and such. But it's downtown. She told me there's a bus every ten minutes, though. Would you come with me?' Julie had no choice, she felt. Only her sister could guide her to a bathroom. And if she didn't find one soon, there wouldn't be any need for one, the ground beneath her would transform into an involuntary toilet. And then her sister would be the only one who could comfort her, like that time on the skiing trip. Julie had not wet herself since then and had not seriously considered the possibility until now that it might ever happen again. She nodded weakly and followed her sister, hoping that either her ability to string together a coherent sentence would return miraculously on the short bus ride into town, in which case she'd simply tell her sister about her need for a bathroom and they'd find one in no time—or that a magical Ladies' sign would spontaneously appear somewhere in the bookstore. Stores have customer bathrooms, right? They were in luck: just as they got to the bus stop, the right bus pulled over. They got on, Ellie paying for both of them once she realized Julie had forgotten her wallet. As they walked down the aisle, she must have noticed Julie's fidgeting, because she turned around and asked: 'Julie, uh, do you need a bathroom or something?' Julie managed a nod and an 'uh-huh.' 'We'll find one as soon as we get off the bus,' Ellie whispered. 'Let's find a seat at the back, away from the other passengers, so you can hold yourself if you need to.' They took seats at the last row. The nearest fellow passenger was an aging lady four rows in front of them. Once seated, it felt like Julie's stomach was a burning pit of fire. The feelings in her bladder were not located exactly where they should be, but seemed to occupy both her crotch and her stomach, all the way from her thighs to her breasts, and the pain was becoming unbearable. The visuals seemed to be weakening, or perhaps she was simply too distracted to notice them, but when she buried her hands in her crotch and fidgeted around there were still hints of tracers, like her vision was a movie shot with just a few frames per second too little to really fool the eye. 'Oh, Julie,' said her sister. It was a telling 'oh,' a mothering 'Julie,' and thankfully everything else went unspoken, so that Julie didn't have to attempt an answer. She knew that Ellie must be disappointed in her for getting herself into this situation. And that was even if she never found out about the drugs. She knew that Ellie had stopped wetting the bed. In one of their many Skype calls, Ellie had proudly announced, 'So, I just realized I haven't wet the bed in six months. I'm dry!' in a manner carefully measured to give the impression that this was not a big deal, just a casual little fun fact about her life, like if she'd said that she saw a woman with green hair on the bus this morning, but betraying the fact that it really was a big deal. Julie had showered her sister with praise, again in an indirect manner designed to suggest that she, too, considered it a casual observation, a funny aside, like if she'd said, 'Cool, sounds like an interesting woman,' about the green-haired lady, although both sisters realized the momentous importance of this. Ellie had always wanted to be a grown-up; she'd been precocious where Julie had always, she knew now, been naive. Bedwetting was the one thing that kept her back, that shackled her to childhood, and now it was gone. And now that she was over it, her older sister getting into a desparate bathroom situation, potentially peeing her pants on the bus must seem awfully childish. Julie was rarely embarrassed, at least not for long, but now she was ashamed of herself for getting high and probably wetting herself. She blushed. She twisted and clenched and snuck her hands inside the denim, then inside her butterfly-design panties. She felt a sudden push. She felt her fingers get wet. She looked down. Observed, in a detached manner, that her wet spot had doubled in size. Observed, also, her sister following her gaze. 'Oh no,' said Ellie. Tears began to well up in Julie's eyes, and she fought them back. Ellie leaned over to her and whispered, barely audible: 'Hold on, hold on, sis, we're almost there!' But then everything happened very fast. The fire in her belly reached white hot. She was carrying a nuclear reactor in her bladder, and it exploded. All safety measures were down. Failsafes were overridden. Contractions initiated. Red hot burning lava pee was about to be pumped out into butterfly panties and a childish denim romper. Everything was on the verge of catastrophe. Then catastrophe hit. Her bladder violently contracted. And contracted again. Muscles were disengaged. She watched, feeling as if she were a manager monitoring his nuclear plant from a safe distance as it exploded into a mushroom cloud, somehow both removed from and deeply involved in what was happening. She was peeing. The odd, icky feeling was gathering in force. Wet denim clung to her. Pee broke through her panties, saturated the shorts material, gathering in her lap, gathering in front of her hole and in the back, warming her butt. Then it broke through the shorts, too, as they could hold no more—they were not, after all, diapers, which was what it felt like she should have worn—diapers would have been less embarrassing than this. The pee continued, hissing loudly, so loudly she was sure everyone on the bus must be looking at her, must be watching her humiliate and disgrace herself and giving up her adulthood, her college student status, ridiculing both herself and her scene, the hipsters and hippies that were already ridiculed by half of the college campus and secretly envied by the other half. The pee began soaking into the fabric of the seat, but the seat was no diaper either. Soon it started running from her shorts towards the edge of her seat. Then it fell over the edge, spattering loudly on the floor. A small river was growing, and it was growing in the driving direction, towards the old lady's feet a few rows in front of them. Julie was too horrified to do anything but watch, too weak to resist her bladder's continual emptying although at this point, surely enough had been drained that the remaining contents would have been no challenge to hold under normal circumstances. The flow was about to hit the soles of the woman's shoes, and Julie was transfixed. As the last drops were falling to the floor, she became fully detached from her physical body, felt nothing for a moment, then something amazing happened: all the pain was replaced by relief. By pleasure. Julie watched as her body shuddered, as a little chimera of moan and wail escaped her lips, but she didn't feel it: she was consumed. * * * So much. Ellie watched in amazement as her sister began wetting herself for real. The amazement turned to horror as she noticed that the flow would not stop, as she watched it creep up towards the lady in front of them. She knew the terror her sister must be feeling, and she knew how it would be multiplied once everyone on the bus found out. Nobody had noticed yet, but once the pee hit that lady's feet, everyone would know. Luckily, the bus was just pulling into a stop. She had to get them off the bus while there was still some hope for her sister's dignity. That's when she noticed her sister was shuddering. Was she... Having an orgasm? Then she noticed her sister's pupils for the first time. What the fuck has that hippie bitch gotten her into, she thought, but said nothing. Instead, Ellie dragged Julie off the bus. Just as the doors closed, she could hear the old lady start to yell. They stood there at the bus stop, looking at each other. Her sister had her eyes closed, still in a different space. Maybe she had exited spacetime entirely. No wonder she had said so little. Normally she said so much, when she was present in reality, that is. Her sisters denim romper carried a wet half-moon extending from her crotch up towards where her navel. Her butt carried a similar half-moon. She was soaked. Her sister always held it forever, and when she peed, she peed. Julie opened her eyes and stuttered: 'I'm... so sorry.' The look in her eyes made Ellie forgive and forget everything. In that moment, she had infinite sympathy for her sister, her pants-wetting baby older sister who was high on drugs. 'If it makes you feel any better,' Ellie said, 'I actually wet my bed a few days before I came down here. Really soaked it.' She wished she was lying to cheer her sister up, but she was not. Then came the worst of it. Now that she had said as much, she might as well tell the whole truth. 'I was so afraid of peeing the bed with your roommate around that I brought... Goodnites.' (Author's note: Only a month since the last one, and I fell for the temptation to write another installment, the longest yet. Perhaps the last one, perhaps not. I spend a lot of time setting the scene, but hopefully the payoff is worth it.) Edited August 23, 2013 by satyr (see edit history) TheGreatNobody, John Cena69, skywalker58 and 1 other 4 Quote Link to comment
Theonlysaneperson 42 Posted September 23, 2019 Share Posted September 23, 2019 pick it back up, eh? Night Rain, largebio and Ranpalan 3 Quote Link to comment
Bedwettingchik12 322 Posted September 24, 2019 Share Posted September 24, 2019 2 hours ago, Theonlysaneperson said: pick it back up, eh? This was 6 years ago.. what do you think?? herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
Theonlysaneperson 42 Posted September 25, 2019 Share Posted September 25, 2019 It's possible. Ranpalan and largebio 2 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted September 25, 2019 Author Share Posted September 25, 2019 It's flattering to see that people are still enjoying this six years later. I encourage people to look back in the archives, I'm sure there's a lot of good stories there that many members haven't seen. The forum has gained a lot of new members since 2013. If you find an author you like, check out their profile and read their backlog. That said... When a thread has been dead for six years, you can safely assume that it's not coming back. I don't necessarily mind people necro-ing threads because they enjoy them and want to bring them to the attention of a wider audience or compliment the author. But pestering an author to continue a series that's been dead for many years is kind of rude! Bedwettingchik12, Night Rain, Sake and 1 other 4 Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted September 27, 2019 Share Posted September 27, 2019 Since it's already necro'd, let me recommend that anyone who hasn't read this story do so immediately, it's a masterpiece! herrokitty 1 Quote Link to comment
Theonlysaneperson 42 Posted October 14, 2019 Share Posted October 14, 2019 It's not really "pestering." I asked once. Quote Link to comment
Bedwettingchik12 322 Posted October 14, 2019 Share Posted October 14, 2019 (edited) 1 hour ago, Theonlysaneperson said: It's not really "pestering." I asked once. Edited October 14, 2019 by Bedwettingchik12 (see edit history) Quote Link to comment
Bedwettingchik12 322 Posted October 14, 2019 Share Posted October 14, 2019 1 hour ago, Theonlysaneperson said: It's not really "pestering." I asked once. Didn’t mean you personally was pestering. But the act of necro’ing a story like this when it’s clear it won’t continue only to ask about it is. Quote Link to comment
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