Watersucker: The Desperation Prank

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Chapter 1

 

David was sitting in the front row of the school bus taking him home from school. The seats were wide enough for two to fit comfortably, but no one was sitting next to David; most students preferred to sit near the back of the bus, where they could feel the bumps in the road more strongly. There were two girls sitting across the aisle from David: a blonde, sitting next to the aisle, and a brunette, sitting next to the window. Both were attractive, but so were a good many of David’s classmates. David alternated between watching the two girls and looking out his own window; there wasn't much else he could see from where he was sitting. About two-thirds of the way through the ride, while David was looking out the window, he heard a gasp and turned just in time to see the brunette plunge both hands tightly between her legs. The blonde was giggling.

"I can't believe you would watersucker me in public!" the brunette exclaimed, quietly but clearly horrified.

Watersucker? David thought, confused. He had never heard that term before.

"We're almost home," the blonde replied. "Anyway, you got me while we were out hiking."

"There was no one else around."

"So it's the other people that bother you? The seat backs are too high for anyone to see you without standing up."

The brunette looked around, then pointed at David. "He can see," she said.

"All right, one person."

"You know I'm going to get you back for this."

"I'm sure you will," the blonde retorted. "In the meantime, though . . ." she started to tickle the brunette's sides.

"Oh my god, stop. Stop. I have to pee."

"That's the point."

They stopped talking at that point. The blonde continued to giggle and tickle the brunette, who tried to squirm away from the blonde’s fingers while continuing to hold herself tightly with both hands. David, his mouth open slightly, could not take his eyes off of them. The brunette tried to glare angrily at the blonde a few times, but then she would crack up from the tickling, squeeze her vulva with the hands holding it, and then concentrate her efforts on trying to getting away from the tickling while, apparently, struggling not to wet her pants. After awhile she started squeezing herself repeatedly even while trying to avoid being tickled, and then she gave on the dodging attempts, crossed one leg over the other, and tensed her thighs briefly. David’s mouth had gone dry. He closed it and swallowed, then opened it again.

“Aww,” the blonde started to tease, “do you have to go pee pee? Are you going to wet your pants like a little kid? Are you going to have an embarrassing accident on a crowded school bus?” She was smiling broadly.

“I hate you,” the brunette said flatly. They were speaking quietly, presumably so as not to attract the attention of the entire school bus, but David was still able to hear what they said if he listened properly. The brunette tensed her thighs again.

The bus stopped. David started; he had forgotten that he was on a moving vehicle. The blonde looked out the girls’ window and said, “Oh, here we are.” She turned to face the aisle and slowly slid out of the seat. As she slowly stood up, she looked at David. David half hoped, half dreaded that she would say something to him. She did not. She merely looked at him for a few moments, her expression showing nothing more than passing curiosity, and then turned and started walking toward the door to the bus, which the driver had opened.

The brunette was now sitting at the edge of the seat that the girls had shared, her legs still crossed and her hands still between them. She, too, looked at David, and her expression showed exasperation, as well as the understandable panic of being about to pee in her pants. The exasperation, however, was not directed at David. She did say something to David: “I’m going to get her back for this.” The way she said it, David believed her, although he was still kind of confused about what was going on.

The brunette then uncrossed her legs and slowly got up, still holding her vulva tightly. David suspected that her slowness was for an entirely different reason than that of the blonde. The two girls made their way out of the bus, the blonde still moving with what David assumed was deliberate slowness, the brunette pee pee dancing furiously and urging her companion to hurry up. Once they made it to the sidewalk, the blonde resumed tickling the brunette’s sides. The bus door closed and the bus started moving again. David watched the two girls out the window. The brunette was bent forward, her hands still between her legs, hobbling along the sidewalk, stopping frequently to squeeze her thighs together, while the blonde tailgated her and tickled her constantly. David continued to watch them until the bus turned a corner and they were out of sight.

When David’s mother got home later that day, David asked her, “Mom, what does ‘watersucker’ mean?”

His mother looked at him uncertainly. “Watersucker? Something that sucks up water?”

That didn’t make sense. But David didn’t feel comfortable discussing the circumstances under which he had heard the term used, so he said, “Never mind,” and went back to doing his homework.

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Chapter 2

 

When the two girls got on the school bus the next morning, David watched them intently. They sat in the same place they had the day before (school bus passengers don't usually pick out a different seat every day), so David would be able to see them for the entire bus ride. However, they didn't seem to be doing anything the slightest bit interesting. They didn't say anything, they didn't move once they were seated, and their expressions showed no emotion whatsoever. They appeared to have completely gotten over the events of the previous afternoon. Had the brunette gotten the blonde back? David tried to think about what form the revenge might have taken. And what exactly was it revenge for?

While the two girls did not seem moody, they also did not appear to be interested in talking, and David did not want to embarrass himself by trying to start a conversation with someone unfriendly. After awhile, David got bored with looking at them and turned to look out his window. He glanced back at the girls from time to time to see if anything had changed, but nothing did for the entire bus ride. After getting off the bus, David followed the two girls until, after less than twenty steps, the two girls turned down a corridor that led in the opposite direction to David's first class, at which point David realized that he needed to get on with the school day.

He tried asking several of his friends what the term "watersucker" meant, but none of them seemed to know. David did not see the two girls again until they were getting back on the school bus to go home, and during the ride the girls again did not do anything interesting and again did not appear interested in chatting either with each other or with David. David began to think that he had dreamed the entire incident up.

This possibility seemed more and more likely as the days wore on. David never saw the girls far outside of the school bus, and when he did see them their demeanor did not seem remotely playful or even sociable, nor did there appear to be any tension between them. It was as if they were two bodies controlled by one mind, patiently waiting for the bus ride to be over. After a week David got so bored with them that he started sitting in another row, so that he could watch students who were at least giving each other noogies and talking about cute classmates. Over time he forgot about the two girls altogether.

David's school was semestered, which meant that each student took four classes for the first half of the school year, then had two weeks off for Christmas, and then took four different classes for the second half of the school year. On the first day of classes after the Christmas break, for David's second class of the day, he decided to sit in the back row, near the door. Once class began, the teacher distributed course outlines, went over them with the class, and then told the students that they could talk quietly amonst themselves for the last fifteen minutes of class. As soon as David finished putting his binder back in his backpack, he heard a nearby, quiet, mischievous, sing-song, female voice say, "Stacy . . . Watersucker."

It was a term David had forgotten about, but the first thing he remembered about it now that he was hearing it again was that it probably meant something very, very interesting. He immediately swiveled his head to find the source of the voice that had uttered it, and saw, immediately to his left, two familiar-looking girls: a blonde, sitting right next to David, and a brunette, sitting on the blonde's left. He had seen them on the school bus the previous semester, he now remembered, and they had been the very ones who had previously used the term whose meaning was still unclear. The girls were facing each other, so David could not see the blonde's face, but the brunette was smiling. David heard another female voice, presumably that of the blonde (Stacy?), say in a tone of pure horror, "No!"

The brunette looked straight at David, winked, and then looked back at Stacy. "Told you I'd get you back," the brunette said. "I'd say you've got about five seconds. Oh, and you remember him, right?" She nodded toward David. "I bet you didn't even notice him earlier."

To be fair, David hadn't noticed them, either.

Stacy looked at David, and the look of dread on her face was beyond anything David could remember seeing in his entire life. A few seconds later, the theoretical dread suddenly turned to practical panic as Stacy, just as the brunette had on the school bus all those weeks ago, quickly thrust both hands between her legs and squeezed her vulva tightly. She turned to face the brunette again. "Christine, this isn't fair," Stacy said, her voice cracking. "We were almost home!"

"I wasn't going to try to get you on the school bus," Christine replied. "That would have been too obvious. And I thought it only right that I should get you in front of him." She nodded at David again. "After all, he got to see one of us having to pee really bad." She reached over and started tickling Stacy's sides. "Why not the other?"

David liked Christine's reasoning.

Stacy started squirming around. The rest of the class did not appear to have noticed what was happening in the back row; the three of them were the only ones in that row, the two girls were talking fairly quietly, most of the other students were having their own conversations, and the desks made it difficult to see Stacy's legs from any other row. David, on the other hand, was enjoying the show immensely, and enjoyed it even more when Christine started laughing, hard but quietly. David really liked the way girls laughed after successfully pulling off a clever prank, and that was the way Christine was laughing now.

Stacy put one hand in the air while the other remained firmly in her crotch. When the teacher called on her, Stacy asked, in an impressively calm voice, "May I go to the bathroom?"

"You can't wait fifteen minutes?" the teacher asked incredulously.

"I guess I can," Stacy replied, embarrassed, and the teacher directed her attention elsewhere. Stacy put her hand from the air back into her crotch and started squeezing her vulva rhythmically while taking shallow breaths. The rest of the class still did not seem to realize that anything was out of the ordinary.

"Can you?" Christine asked teasingly. "You'd be cutting it pretty tight."

"I hate you," Stacy said without emotion.

"I bet you do. Just try not to think about waterfalls."

"Shut up!" Stacy said, crossing her legs and starting tense her thighs in phase with her squeezing hands while rocking back and forth.

"Yeah you're right, this isn't about other waterfalls, it's about you!" Christine said the "you" in a high-pitched tone while quickly sliding her hands up the inside of Stacy's shirt and then out again. "You have to pee really, really bad, but you can't leave class for another ten minutes. Are you going to make it? Or are you going to soak those tight jeans and make them glisten? That would be cute, you know. Moisture slowly spreading over your pants while you frantically tried to stop it. I would laugh so hard. Of course, you look pretty cute right now." She looked at David. "Don't you think she looks cute?" Stacy turned to look at David as well, and she was clearly still panicking, as well as annoyed with Christine.

"Ummm . . ." David said, flustered.

"Yeah, you do," said Christine. To Stacy, who was turning back to look at Christine, Christine added, "I don't imagine he gets to see a show like this very often. Just be glad no one else can see you."

"This isn't over," Stacy said threateningly.

"Oh, not by a long shot. In fact, I think we're just starting to branch out."

For the rest of the class, Christine continued to laugh and tickle Stacy's sides while Stacy frantically squirmed around trying not to pee herself, her hands never leaving her crotch. When the bell rang, Stacy grabbed her backpack with one hand, uncrossed her legs, got up gingerly, and ran out of the classroom as well as she could while bent forward with her thighs close together and one hand squeezing her vulva tightly. She had to awkwardly open the classroom door with the same hand that was holding her backpack.

Christine bent over double laughing, then turned to David. "She does look cute when she's jiggling and squeezing her pussy like her life depends on it, doesn't she?" Christine asked.

"Um . . ." David said again.

"I'm going to go check on her. Save room for us at your lunch table. I have a feeling this is going to be a really fun semester."

As Christine picked up her backpack and left the classroom, David realized that he agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment.
 

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Chapter 3
 
David wasn't really expecting Christine and Stacy to join him for lunch, but he sat in a quiet section of one of the long tables anyway because he wanted to be able to savour what he had seen without being distracted by unrelated conversations. He was still startled that Christine has spoken to him, considering that she hadn't even looked at him since the incident the previous semester. He hadn't even introduced himself, hadn't uttered more than a meaningless monosyllable to her, and yet she had behaved as though there was a bond between her and David. Perhaps he could chalk it up to her playfulness, although that playfulness only seemed to be manifest on rare occasions. Maybe that was the nature of playfulness.

As he ate his lunch, David wondered when, if ever, he might next see the two girls do something interesting. He now shared a class with them as well as a bus, but remembering the previous semester and Christine's comment about the school bus being "too obvious", he imagined that they would likely spend the rest of this semester mechanically taking notes and doing classwork, talking only to answer the teacher's questions and to pull their weight in group assignments; in other words, they would be even more boring than the other students in the class. David's thoughts became more abstract as he imagined that all people in the world had the same amount of "fun" in them, and that they could either distribute this fun evenly over time or concentrate it in occasional intense pinpricks of fun and spend the rest of their time as soulless robots.

"Is it okay if we sit next to you?" David heard a female voice ask from behind him.

"Sure," David said offhandedly. While he did not want anyone to distract him from his thoughts, it would have been rude to deny someone a place to sit when he had six empty spaces to his left and to his right on both sides of the table.

David felt two bodies slide down his sides and then squeeze up against him as tightly as they could. "There's lots of space," he said.

"Are we making you uncomfortable?" the girl on his left asked in a flirty voice. He turned to look at her and was startled to realize that she was none other than the blonde girl, Stacy, who ten minutes ago had been frantically bouncing her legs and squeezing her vulva trying not to pee in her pants, and probably devoting any remaining brainpower to getting back at her companion, Christine — although, from what David had observed, it had been Stacy herself who had started it, whatever "it" was. At the moment, however, Stacy was smiling pleasantly. Was there a hint of mischief in her eyes? Regardless, David was amazed at how quickly her attitude had changed. Not having to pee anymore helped, he supposed, but still . . .

"I'm Stacy," Stacy said, extending her right hand. David knew this already, but the formality of introductions was important.

"David," David said, shaking Stacy's hand.

"Christine," the girl to David's right said. David released Stacy's hand, turned, and saw that the girl to his right was indeed the brunette who had tormented, and previously been tormented by, Stacy. She, too, was smiling (this was less of a surprise), and she, too, had extended her right hand. David shook it.

"David."

When he released her hand, Stacy spoke again. "We're sisters."

"Twins," Christine added.

"Fraternal twins," Stacy clarified. "Although we're both pretty hot." She reached over and pinched Christine's left nipple. Christine squealed.

And David had been worried that they would never do anything interesting again.

"So," Stacy went on, "did you enjoy the show last period?"

This from the victim? Was David in trouble?

"It's okay," Christine put in. "I'm sure you enjoyed the show last semester on the bus, as well."

Stacy now spoke to Christine. "Yeah, that was pretty funny. Although, I must admit, you got me back pretty good. I mean, I hate you, obviously, but I'm still impressed." David got the impression that she was saying "I hate you" as a matter of form rather than because she was truly upset. Stacy turned her attention back to David. "It's a trick we like to play on each other," she explained. "We have this white powder that we can dissolve in each others' drinks that makes the person drinking it feel a sudden, intense need to pee about fifteen minutes later. Fifteen minutes after that, the person will no longer be able to hold it regardless of how she tries. But we don't use it so much to make each other pee as to make each other squirm and panic."

"Usually we give it to each other at home after locking and closing the bathroom door with nobody inside it," Christine added. "It's possible to unlock the door from the outside, but it's really difficult, and it's even more difficult when you're desperate to pee and your sister is standing right behind you and tickling you constantly. The pee pee dances we do outside the bathroom are hilarious. But now someone —" she looked meaningfully at Stacy — "seems to have decided that it would be funny to dish the stuff out in front of other students. Well, two can play at that game."

"It's not the first time we used it in public," Stacy said defensively. "Christine put some in my water bottle when we were out hiking, miles from any bathrooms or buildings of any kind. I ended up having to pull down my pants, squat, and pee outside."

"That wasn't the first time, either," Christine retorted. "Stacy gave me some while we were enjoying what would otherwise have a relaxing float downstream in a canoe. The riverbanks were too steep to come ashore anywhere in the area, and I didn't want to stink up the canoe by peeing in it, and I was afraid I would tip the canoe over if I tried to squat over the edge, and I didn't want to get my clothes wet, so I stripped naked, jumped in the river, and peed there. But then Stacy wouldn't slow the canoe down enough for me to get back in, so I had to walk and swim behind her until she finally found a place to come ashore, at which point she took my clothes, which were still in the canoe, and ran off into the forest with them. I waited in the canoe, completely naked, for like fifteen minutes before Stacy finally came back, and she didn't even have my clothes with her anymore! She said that she had hidden them in the forest, and that if I wanted them I would have to find them. Well, at that point I just pushed her down into the canoe, sat on her, and bopped her on the head with the side of my fist over and over again until she agreed to bring me my clothes back."

There was silence among the three of them for a few moments. Then Stacy said, in an impressed tone, "Wow. I had forgotten about that. Okay, that one is a winner." Composing herself, she said to David, "Anyway, tickling and teasing each other when we're frantically trying not to pee in our pants is really fun. But the most delicious part is when we tell the victim what we've done just before she starts feeling the effects of the powder. We like to tell her concisely, since the blow would be dulled if it came in the form of a lengthy explanation, so we came up with the word 'watersucker': water as a euphemism for urine, and sucker because the victim didn't see it coming. We try to say this word within thirty seconds of the first fifteen-minute mark, and let me tell you, the look of horror on the victim's face when she realizes that she's about to have to pee extremely badly with no bathroom available is priceless."

"I bet," David said breathlessly.

"How about that?" Stacy said to Christine. "He can talk."

"So he can," Christine responded. To David, she said, "Could I see your schedule?"

"Sure," David said, taking his schedule out of his pocket and unfolding it.

Looking at the schedule, Christine said, "Stacy, look at this. We're all in the same class right after lunch."

looked at the schedule. "Cool!" she said, excited. "Let's all sit together in it." She put her right arm around David and squeezed. "David's one of us now."

"All right," Christine said, "now let's finish our lunch before the bell rings."

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Aren't you supposed to give credit when you just copy and paste a story that isn't yours?

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Aren't you supposed to give credit when you just copy and paste a story that isn't yours?

It is mine.  I wrote it awhile ago.  I didn't post it here before because I wasn't sure if it was on topic.  In this instance I am pasting it from another site because I lost the laptop on which it was stored.  In fact, part of the reason I'm posting it here is so that it doesn't get lost if the other site goes down.

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I don't remember reading it here, but I do remember reading it. I can prove it by describing in detail how the story progresses, but I don't want to spoil it for anyone who wants to read the original, wherever it may be. 

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I don't remember reading it here, but I do remember reading it. I can prove it by describing in detail how the story progresses, but I don't want to spoil it for anyone who wants to read the original, wherever it may be. 

 

I don't recall seeing this before, and I can't find it on this or any other site at all... any links? Maybe it's renamed or something? Either way, I even used direct quotes from the story, and this is all I'm linked to. Sooo... benefit of the doubt for me.

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I've definitely seen this story on an older board; not sure which one, though.  I suspect that these boards are unindexed, since you'd otherwise get a good deal more results from them when googling for things like "desperate to pee story".

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Well, I can't find it anywhere either. Before we grab our pitchforks, let's see if OP shows up again. For all we know, the original author just found this forum and decided to repost an older story that's languishing in some ungoogleable website that may not even still be operational.

 

A shame, because I'd like to read the continuation. It's an intriguing setup.

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I've also definitely read this although since it has apparently disappeared I'd love to see the rest posted

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Well, I can't find it anywhere either. Before we grab our pitchforks, let's see if OP shows up again. For all we know, the original author just found this forum and decided to repost an older story that's languishing in some ungoogleable website that may not even still be operational.

 

A shame, because I'd like to read the continuation. It's an intriguing setup.

...But I already showed up with a torch and an anger born of frenzied mob mentality rather than evidence.

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I believe I posted a defense within hours of the initial accusation, but it is not yet showing up, so I will post it again.  I am the original author of this story.  I posted it elsewhere some time ago.  I did not post it here at the time because I was not sure if it was on topic.  I am posting it now as a backup in case the other sites hosting it go down.

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This story if defiantly already on here. :( with about 3 more chapters. I've read it before.

Link?  Where is it at?

Does anyone have a link to the previous story?  I want to read the finished version.

Edited by tester

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So let me ask y'all this, if this is truly on here already how does anyone know if this is the original author?

Same name, maybe a new name for unknown reasons? To many variables to just go off the see end on this person.

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...But I already showed up with a torch and an anger born of frenzied mob mentality rather than evidence.

 

ANGRY AT OP? WANT TO JOIN THE MOB?

 

WE'VE GOT YOU COVERED!

 

COME ON DOWN TO /r/pitchforkemporium!

 

WE GOT 'EM ALL!

 

Traditional:      ---E

Left Handed:    Ǝ---

Fancy:              ---{

 

WE EVEN HAVE DISCOUNTED CLEARANCE FORKS!

 

33% off!:                        ---F

66% off!                         ---L

Manufacturer's Defect!    ---e

 

NEW IN STOCK. DIRECTLY FROM LIECHTENSTEIN. EUROPEAN MODELS!

 

The Euro:      ---€

The Pound:   ---£

The Lira:       ---₤

 

HAPPY LYNCHING! (* some assembly required) 

 

I will probably burn in hell for posting a meme, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. Now, if someone only had the rest of the story saved, we could go back to fapping rather than meme-ing.

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Whoa, this blew up a bit. I'm not saying that OP definitely isn't the original author, but it seems unlikely, as they joined the site a few hours before posting this story. Even if they are, they should have said something like "I wrote this story and posted it on (other place), now I'm reposting it." Either way, they sure aren't saying anything now.

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Link? Where is it at?

Does anyone have a link to the previous story? I want to read the finished version.

No one can find it. But this author is claiming to be the original so I'm gonna let it be.

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Whoa, this blew up a bit. I'm not saying that OP definitely isn't the original author, but it seems unlikely, as they joined the site a few hours before posting this story. Even if they are, they should have said something like "I wrote this story and posted it on (other place), now I'm reposting it." Either way, they sure aren't saying anything now.

I had hoped that I could get straight into the story without a distracting introduction, but after what happened here I will definitely follow your advice next time I repost a story.  I joined this site for the purpose of posting this story, for the benefit of those who had not yet read it.  If you look at earlier posts in this thread you can now see that my silence was not deliberate.

 

What I think I'll do now, with your permission, is to post, in this thread, the remaining four (4) chapters that I have written (and posted elsewhere) so far, and then list the other sites where I have posted the story (between December 2012 and April 2014) so that you can contact the original author to confirm that he and I are the same person.  Also, I think I might post the eighth chapter, if and when I get around to writing it, here before I post it elsewhere.  Does that sound reasonable?

 

I appreciate you looking out for the rights of the original author.  It took me more than a year (on and off) to write those seven chapters, and I am glad to know that people like you will keep that work from being stolen.  Thank you.

 

I await your reply.

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I had hoped that I could get straight into the story without a distracting introduction, but after what happened here I will definitely follow your advice next time I repost a story.  I joined this site for the purpose of posting this story, for the benefit of those who had not yet read it.  If you look at earlier posts in this thread you can now see that my silence was not deliberate.

 

What I think I'll do now, with your permission, is to post, in this thread, the remaining four (4) chapters that I have written (and posted elsewhere) so far, and then list the other sites where I have posted the story (between December 2012 and April 2014) so that you can contact the original author to confirm that he and I are the same person.  Also, I think I might post the eighth chapter, if and when I get around to writing it, here before I post it elsewhere.  Does that sound reasonable?

 

I appreciate you looking out for the rights of the original author.  It took me more than a year (on and off) to write those seven chapters, and I am glad to know that people like you will keep that work from being stolen.  Thank you.

 

I await your reply.

That sounds great!

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