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Sorry for the delay guys. I had to study for my exam and I totally forgot. Anyway, I passed! YAY.
Here's the chapter to celebrate =D

A Proper Lady


Fandom: Downton Abbey
Characters: Cora, Robert
Setting: pre-serie (around 1890)
Warning for this chapter: desperation, wetting.

Chapter 4: The Gardens #2

Robert helped his wife sitting down on the nearest bench, which had been almost ten minutes away from the Temple of Diana. It was one of the forgotten bench of the manor, old, rusty and hidden behind a big tree and surrounded by untrimmed bushes of berries.
Cora lowered herself down with all the precaution needed, only to let herself fall down on the seat when her doubling over to sit put extra pressure on her abdomen. She immediately rested her back on the wood behind her, sighing in relief when she extended her legs, to reduce considerably the pressure on her bladder. Her ankles were crossed and they popped out the skirt of her dress.

“You look lovely, you know that?” Robert smiled, his glance traveling on her body, from the fidget of her ankles, up to her bouncing knees and quivering thighs, her slender fingers cradling her stomach – where the skirt and the top of the dress met – often tugging at the fabric, her chest unmoving beneath the corset and yet where the dress ended, just above the top swell of her breasts, rising and falling like mad as her breathing became more and more irregular; then there were tiny drops of sweat adorning her collarbone as if they were a necklace and her face, her beautiful face, the pure image of desperation: her lips were pursed, yet frequently she opened them abruptly into a mute cry, her eyes shut tight, her eyebrow and forehead constantly wrinkling and moving. She was a piece of work, his piece of work.

“I don't feel lovely.” She gasped through her hinted smile. “My stomach's so full. I'm bursting.” She let out the smallest breath as her whole body spasmed forward.

Cora had already said that, but this time, that word came out from her clenching teeth. It meant she had to go pretty bad now. He should've felt sorry for her, nevertheless, Robert's heart was hammering inside his chest. He was enjoying it and so was she – Cora was enduring by her own will, so he felt the only need of savoring the situation. It was the ultimate perfection.

“Can I feel it?” He asked, outstretching his palm over her stomach. His fingers were still in the air, few inches away from actually touching her and he was watching her, asking for the permission.

Cora's blue eyes blinked oped. She was almost tearing, which made her even more beautiful.

“Yes.” She nodded, even if her confident had dropped almost completely. “But don't press down.” She warned. He nodded, silently swearing to keep his world.
Cora trusted him completely, what she didn't trust was her body and muscles. She may completely lose control any moment.

She tried to still her movement and, slowly, she moved her hands away from her bulge to make room for him. Her fingers were now gripping the fabric on her hips, her legs bouncing rhythmically up and down, her hole already burning with anticipation, for she knew that even the slightest touch – from someone that wasn't herself – would've put her muscles to yet another, extra test.

The tip of his fingers brushed against the front of her dress, the light pink fabric rustling softly under his touch as he trailed further down, where her fingers had been moments earlier.

Cora squirmed once, tensing her whole body and then another time, before she managed to still enough for him to feel her bladder. Even if she was wearing layers of clothing, there was hardness where the corset was and it continued where it ended. With surprise his pads brushed crossed the transition from it to where her bladder was without even notice: she was rock hard. No doubt she was bursting.

“Darling..” He whispered in awe, attempting a little caress, following the length of the prodding bulge down to her crotch.

It was enough to make her wobble firmer, her hand finally giving up with their useless tugging to join on her crotch, massaging roughly.
“Oh..” She hissed, inhaling some cool air between her clenching teeth.

“I'm sorry, darling.” He whispered in her ear. He wanted to brush everything away but he realized it wasn't the best thing to do, naturally.

“Do it.” She panted then. “You want to feel properly, do it, darling.” She said mischievously. “Just let me get ready.” Cora chewed down on her lip, her eyes dropping to her own crotch. She took a small breath before spreading her legs, shoving both of her hands to her joint – fingers deep buried between the layers of the skirt, tracing the outline of her thighs – and then she slammed her legs close again, her knees hitting with a dull thump. “Do it.” She repeated with a sweet smile and a nod of encouragement.
He, of course, needn’t to be told twice.

Robert restored his original position, first touching the firm bulge with the tip of his fingers. Two pairs of eyes were locked to the movement of his hand when he stretched his fingers, placing his whole palm flat on her stomach.

Cora flinched forward a bit, but breathed out and rode off the wave of pure desperation as he rubbed with a ghostly touch on her belly.

The firmer his stroke became, the deeper her fingers reached to her inner folds, until the layers of clothes became too much to handle and the only thing preventing her from leaking would have been a direct grasp of her fingers and womanhood.

“Enough, enough darling.” She pleaded, and another little spurt made its way on her garments. Her hold worked on it just fine to prevent resulting into a full accident.

Robert, of course, had stopped and peeled away his hand as soon as she spoke, but it took more, for her, to realize that the pressure from him was gone.

“Want to head home?” Robert proposed with a smile, kissing her temple. He knew she was at the limit and that their game had endured far enough; now it was time to get her to the loo, release her bladder and let her wear some fresh undergarments before a much deserved, quiet lunch.

Cora, yet again, shook her head no.

“I can't.” She declared, shaking. “I'm far too gone.”

“Darling?” He asked, this time the worry in his voice was clear. “I'll get you home in fifteen minutes top. You mean you can make it?”

“I may.” Cora hinted a chuckle, looking sheepishly up at him “But I can't walk into the front door while grabbing myself now, can I?” She leaned forward again as a wave swept through her, stronger than ever before. Her pee-hole was on fire. “And I can't let go either or else I'd be leaving a trail or darker patches on the carpet as I walk, everyone will know what's happening.”

“You want to go here?” Robert asked, one of his eyebrow lifted. He was both surprised and utterly aroused by the implication: she would have been naked – or better she would have flash him – in the middle of the gardens.

“Got a better idea, darling?” She asked rhetorically, all the while rubbing harder at her joint.  “I'm open to suggestions.” She grunted, her lids trembling as she shot her eyes closed.

Robert watched in awe as she succumbed to her own body and she spread her legs, both her hands jolting up further into her dress and her left knee flying in the air toward her torso.

“You want to go here.” He confirmed, smiling a little.

“Not that I have much choice.” She chuckled with him “Help me, will you? I'm running out of options way quicker than I expected.”

“Of course, darling.” He rose up immediately, eager to help his wife warding off her distress.

“I can't get soak any of this clothes. Got any idea?” She was pleading him with her eyes.

Robert knelt beside her, one hand on the seat next to her thigh. Wetting her clothes was out of question, she was right, because how could she explain the stains on her fresh dress to her maid? And taking her undergarments off – like he would do – was not an option either due to the structure of the female fashion: the thin cloth made of cotton that kept her privates part from being free was laced to her corset, which made impossible taking it off without the latter, which also required the dress off. It was all chained.
He woke up from his thoughts when he heard her definitely moan in distress, a desperate sound that died in her throat. Then he got his eureka moment of the day, something that could help her but also that made him quiver with excitement.

“Stay like this, darling.” He instructed her “Can you keep your knee up a little longer?”

“Be quick, it's pressing against my stomach.” Cora nodded frantically. It was true, that her thigh irremediably dug into her bladder, then why her brain made her curl up like that? The pressure seemed only to get worse.

“Spread a little your legs.” Robert said, while his hands were working on grouping the front of her skirt, lifting the messy fabric roll up, so that her undergarments were now at the sun.

“Can't.” She panted, profiting of the situation to hold herself from her undergarments rather than through all the layer of clothing.

“Just a little more.” Robert encouraged, charmed by the movements of her fingers, now moving on the thin fabric that sheltered her womanhood. Her throbbing and swollen folds where clearly visible through the moisten patch on her crotch. “I need you to let go, darling.”

“I'll get everything wet.” Cora grunted, clenching her jaw. The patch on her undergarments grew lager. “I'm losing it.” She hissed her whole body curling forward as she rode the worst wave of desperation off.

“Do as I say, I promise I'll be quick.” Robert positioned himself between her parted legs, his hand balling in the air ready to put into practice his thoughts.

“Fine.” She almost screamed. Giving herself one last squeeze before preparing on following her husband's instructions. She knew she had no choice, because one way or the other she would have pee in her dress, any other option was welcomed, especially if it came from Robert.

He waited for her to remove her fingers and as soon as she did so, he took over the undergarment that covered her womanhood; he firmly gripped the fabric with his fingers and, with a resolute movement, he ripped the seam apart in the exact moment when a spurt of golden liquid gushed out of her with strength.

Cora hardly understood what just happened, she was just happy she could hold herself directly, plugging her burning hole with her fingers as her whole body continued to spasm. She dropped her knee and remained there with her legs spread open, her dress buckled up and her womanhood exposed, massaging herself with intention.

“It happens all the time.” He chuckled, shrugging a little his shoulders: it wasn't unusual for underpants to rip like that, so no maid would have asked questions about the tear there. Maybe he'd been a little too harsh, because he almost ripped the cloth in two, but that wasn't important.

“Speak for yourself.” She replied with a giggle, silently thanking him with her eyes. Now one problem had been solved, but there was one much more pressing one and it needed to be sorted out immediately.

Robert was smiling now, his eyes locked on her most sensitive skin, throbbing and bursting and convulsing to get rid of the liquid it was storing. But nothing happened. He moved from her a bit, thinking that maybe she wasn't letting go to avoid leaking on top of him, but when he moved again, positioning behind her leg so he could have the perfect view without being in the way, still nothing was happening.

“You can let go now, darling.” He encouraged, thoughts of the first night when she wet herself crossing his mind: what if she couldn't go? What if he muscles refused to give up quickly enough for her to get comfortable soon?

“No, I can't.” Cora replied, shooting her eyes open in his direction. “I'll get the skirt wet anyway. I can't control the direction, you know.” She pointed out allusively.

That wasn't something he'd thought about. Yes, the bucket, the first night, was directly under her, so she had been able to aim in it, but sitting on a bench? The first few seconds would've been no problem, for he was ready to bet that she would pee full-force far away from the bench. But what about the end of her release? The stream would be scarce, it would have ended on her shoes, legs, skirt and then any effort would've been useless.

“What do you want to do?” Robert asked frantically.

“I need to get up.” Cora stated, pleading with her eyes to help her on her feet while she still held herself. She wanted to wait until the flood within her would've actually burst out from her, and she didn't want to do that squatting down for Robert only to see her making a puddle.

“Want me to help you sit down?” He asked. Cora shook her head no with a grin.

Suddenly, her idea came to his mind clear: she wanted to pee while standing like a man would do and now that she was free from the fear of soaking her clothes she could do that freely. It appeared to be such a turn on for him: he would've been able to see her, to see everything, to see the waterfall of golden liquid gush out of her with no barriers.

He nodded in bliss as he helped her up.
Cora’s knees were shaking a great deal, making every effort to move rather difficult. She managed to walk stiffly few steps, at the end, but after her fifth one, it was obvious that she wasn't going far.

“Here, here.” She panted, collapsing with her shoulder on the trunk of the nearest tree.

Cora breathed hard, her lips parted and the corner of her mouth slightly bent up as she looked around her: they were in the middle of nowhere, the woods sheltered them from curious eyes and they were also surrounded by neglected bushes that reached their hips. She smiled openly, sighing when she finally turned to face her husband, her back and shoulder propped flatly against the hard wood.

“Better?” Robert asked, though he highly doubted that.

“Worse.” She confirmed with a chuckle, as gravity took over her over-stretched bladder too.

“Now?” He asked impatiently, both aroused and sad if she indeed wanted to let go: he was yearning to finally witness at her release but egotistically speaking he would dream about this going on and on forever.

“I want to burst, now.” Cora smiled coyly “Just for you.” She didn't have to make it to the castle anymore and she wasn't in so much pain other than her hole burning for the overly postponed release, not to mention that it was a game for their own pleasure and she was indeed enjoying. He clothes wouldn't get wet, so holding as long as she could make totally sense.
And then there was Robert's expression, making her undoubtedly know she was doing right.

“Oh, Cora..” He murmured, placing himself in front of her only to slid to her side, slightly hovering her figure. “Dearest.” He smiled putting his hand on her hip and then making his way down her arm and hands and fingers, intertwined on her bare crotch as she held herself tight. “Let me feel you.”

“You've already done that.” Cora pointed out, leaning the back of her neck on the trunk too. She was starting to feel exhausted.

“Let me feel you.. as you let go.” Robert corrected, watching directly into her blue eyes, memories of their first night crossing both of their minds. How his fingers felt against her throbbing folds, how she rubbed herself in his palm how he stretched her to make the ocean inside of her flow out.

“I don't want to let go yet.” She stubbornly said, remaining with her lips parted as another spasm took over her bladder. She bent her knees and stomped one foot on the ground, grunts escaping her mouth as the effort became unbearable.

Robert watched silently as a spurt of water gushed out the web of her fingers, so yellow to look like liquid gold, and spat into the ground between her feet.
He couldn't control his own action and joined her hands with hers.

Cora jumped slightly up, slamming her thighs close. She gained the control back but having three hands between her legs made the effort of clenching her muscles rather difficult; she didn't want to have her legs spread when she was passing through her last moments of holding, at the contrary she wanted to close every possible threatening hole to keep everything jealousy inside of her.

Warm liquid dampened his hand and sent chill down his spine.

Cora looked up at him and saw wonder into his eyes. He would've never let go.

“Let me.” He whispered hoarsely.

It was too much to bear and she decided to let go of herself, trusting him completely.

When her fingers slid out, replaced immediately by his, she sighed in distress as another leaking hit his palm.
Robert gripped firmly her womanhood and everything stood in place.
He wasn't shaking and his eyes were full of lust. He was perfect to help her hold longer. Longer than she imagined. Even for a minute, because she was sure that without his hand down there, gripping and kneading, by now she would be peeing all over the grass.

“Distract me.” She whispered into his ear and slammed her palms on the trunk behind her. She clawed the wood, even if she couldn't cause the slightest scratch on it, of course, it was for mere support, a mental one.

Robert smiled, deepening his fingers between her legs and made sure to put the palm on her wet pee hole – what a bliss he will feel when she'd explode into his hand – and kneaded a little more, playing with her folds. He could feel her muscles contracting and spasming rhythmically as they wanted to push the liquid out and she strove to fight them, she could feel her squirming and hear her gasping and moaning and a different kind of moisture pooling between her legs, where his pads were.
He smiled, daring to edge slightly inside of her.

“How this feels?” He asked softly. While her body was completely tensed, he'd found the only spot of her where she'd begun to relax.

“More.” She only pleaded, squirming harder on the spot. Cora felt it all, from the spreading of her fold to the entering of her walls to end up with his finger's settlement and little curling, which ended up digging right into her bladder. She shot her eyes open, unable to enjoy the treatment, stirring with her feet and knees until he was out, his hands still gripping her. “Oh no, oh no.” She chanted behind her teeth.

Robert's eyes grew wider when he felt a longer leaking pouring into his palm.

Cora stomped her foot, raising her skirt up with her shaking arms to avoid any unfortunate stain on it. Soon, the realization that she couldn't hold it in a second longer hit her hard and she just surrendered, spreading her legs and bending slightly her knees.

She let go a loud sigh and with it the flood that was within her.

Golden liquid gushed out the small spaces between his fingers and he focused on his palm, where her hole was hissing his skin with an incredible strength. Despite his hand, a physical barrier, was there, her bladder was pushing so hard that her pee poured out no matter what.

Robert kissed her neck lovingly, unable to detach his eyes from such beauty and let go completely of her, watching as her stream rushed out of her and arched in the air, only to fall into the grass few feet away; then it pooled into a puddle that kept growing in size. Bubbling mud was forming. She was even digging her hole into the ground.

She peed hard and long.

She did so for over three minutes before her stream decided to reduce its power to become a soft river, then a small fountain, then spurts as Cora pushed everything out of her and turned it into a slow leaking that ran down her legs for few drops.

Cora collapsed into his arms, panting hard but with the most satisfied grin painted on her lips.

Robert was kissing her jawline in bliss.

She let go of her skirt and swallowed few times to moisten her dry throat.

They started to giggle, talking about how they would resume every detail of the event the same night, to relive everything again and have they yearned, ultimate release. The fun part was that now Cora felt thirsty, but wandered off the idea of a second hold in the same day, only to think that she was dying to something like that again, soon.

Yet things would not go exactly as she expected.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

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  • 3 weeks later...

Sorry for the delay guys, but I've been terribly busy. Hope you'll like the update!

A Proper Lady

Fandom: Downton Abbey
Characters: Cora, Robert
Setting: pre-serie (around 1890)
Warning for this chapter: desperation, wetting.

Chapter 5 – Lemonade

It was a sunny morning of July, and being summer, their schedule was pretty tight: they had meetings almost every day, picnics and strolls that took place in all the Yorkshire. Barons and Lords and Dukes getting busy on hoard the perfect day to have as many guests as possible, a choice which usually ended up to be the weekends.

The summer season was the best one whenever they turned up to be in London – that was what Robert said – but for Cora, being only her second year in England, traveling around the countryside, each day into a different direction, was way more exciting than choosing the best ballroom in a noisy city. Of course, her husband had been there all his life and London had to be more interesting to him, still, at the idea of exploring yet another manor like hers, different woods and admiring the nature, made her feel happy. After all, she'd been living all her life between Cincinnati and New York and the gentle and quiet hills of the Yorkshire were her ultimate dreams. In any case, despite their preference, being one of the newlywed couples left them no choice: they had to live the mundane life of their land, which meant strolls, hunting, trip to lakes and picnics. Cora was happy and for that, Robert was too.

And a picnic indeed was what they would attend today, at five o'clock, to make the tea hour a little more interesting. Actually, she was looking for it, curious how those impeccable Brits would do to break their beloved routines and traditions.


Cora sighed heavily, glancing up at the clock in the small library. How terrible to be alone at that time of the day. Yes, by five she would have been with hundreds of people, chatting and gossiping and eating and drinking yet the waiting hours were terrible: Robert was out and he promised to be at home just in time to leave with her and Violet, who was busy taking a nap to prepare her skin for her beauty treatment, driving her maid crazy because she wouldn't be pleased with anything.

She smiled, sympathizing with her maid. She still had more than an hour, for the clock read half past two, before she needed to get ready – visit the loo and checking on her makeup and dress -, meet the family outside and jump into the carriage to reach the station, where a train would take them to Driffield, where the picnic would've taken place.

Cora stretched blindly her hand to her side, gripping the cold glass resting on the table at her left, and brought it to her lips. She gulped down the entire amount of water that was in it and put the empty glass back. With a smile, she acknowledged she'd emptied her whole pitcher. She was happy, because the doctor said to stay hydrated in preparation of the afternoon in the countryside and she accepted more than merrily the suggestion of drinking as much as possible: she was planning on stuffing her bladder as much as she could, emptying it right before leaving so she could benefit the extra space for her pee during the picnic without stressing about getting desperate.

That was her plan and she was sure it would work.

Or, at least, it could be an experiment, see what would suit her most; after all, she needed to find a solution that could work with her body.

By now, Cora was experiencing the odd sensation of her stomach's slow expansion. The water inside of her had stretched the wall of her bladder and even though she didn't feel exactly desperate to pee, she could definitely say she was full: the water within her swung each time she took a stronger breath, deliciously blubbing when she suddenly changed position.

She decided to store it in until it was time for her to leave, optimizing her time and room for the afternoon because she could bet there would be tea and lemonade and other things to try and she wouldn't enjoy any of those if she had to worry about her bladder. And enjoy her day was what she wanted to do indeed.

Cora sighed contentedly, resuming the reading she'd left behind. More than an hour to distract herself would work just fine on her body, plus she was in the middle of her favorite part of the novel.

She read with eagerness ten pages or more and when the end of the chapter showed up with a blank page, she sighed with a melancholic smile upon her face; she loved that part and now she was just sad it was over. It took her way less time to finish than her usual, she had eaten up paragraph after paragraph.

Cora stretched her back, closing her book with her finger between the pages as it was a bookmark. Her other hand, however, went straight to her abdomen.

She brushed her fingers down to the length of her protruding bladder, a small bulge this time, for her corset only pressed on her ribcage, leaving half of her belly free – her maid had chosen that one particularly so she could move more freely on the grass since she was supposed to sit on blankets and so on, very spartan – the swell of her bladder popped out from beneath the constriction, she was sure it was only the smallest part of it and that smallest part was rock hard under her dress, a cottony one, very light and soft.

She spread her legs a little under her skirt, a movement that from outside it wasn't noticeable, and went for a tiny push on the lower part of her bulge. She felt the water within her work its way down fast and she slapped immediately her knees back together.

She cleared her throat and leaned the back of her neck the pillow behind her head. It was comfortable. Maybe closing her eyes and drifting away for a bit, it would help her stretching her bladder her little more without having to worry about feeling desperate. Sleeping would help her for sure.

Cora got comfortable enough with her position and five minutes later, hand on her groin as she cradled her firm bulge with her fingers to give herself a little support, she drifted away.


Se woke up not more than ten minutes later to the hellish cry of her husband calling her name.

Cora jolted up on her seat, hissing when the sudden movements almost made her leak due to the unbelievable amount of liquid inside her bladder. She frowned deeply, opting for a quick rub of her crotch before resting her hand on the joint of her groin. She was sure she hadn't slept a lot, not more than ten minutes, then why was she hearing Robert calling her name like that, as she was terribly late?

She glanced up at the clock.. which still read a quarter past one: the hands hadn't moved a bit from her last check.

“Oh no.” Cora mumbled in shock.

“Cora, what are you doing here?” Robert sighed harshly when he found her lying on the couch, a book in her hand “We've been waiting for you, we'll be late!”

“The clock-” She stuttered, pointing roughly at it “I thought I had time!” Then she realized it must've been neglected and nobody had charged it. Now that she thoughtof that, she didn't see anyone attending to the library clocks since she came down, early in the morning.

“We'll miss the train now, c'mon.” Robert stretched his hand in her direction, trying to spur her up.

“I- I can't I'm not ready, I-” She stood up rather fumblingly and gripped his hand in support. Her bladder felt so heavy now.

“You're beautiful, darling.” He hinted a quick yet sincere smile and bent down to kiss her cheek. “Let's go now, mama will lose her mind in a minute.”

“Robert, I need to use the loo.” She blushed deeply, rubbing her thighs together allusively.

“Cora.. it's almost three o'clock.” He sighed, rolling his eyes thoughtfully “You'll go at the station. Can you hold it until there?” He proposed, his eyes full of hope.

Cora swallowed hard. If the choice was hers, she'd go right away, but of course it wasn't. They were terribly late, maybe they would've even lost the train and then.. then Robert was practically begging her. She wanted to save themselves from Violet's wrath and proudly talking, she wanted to show him she was stronger than she looked like – and a little smarter than she actually felt, for drinking more water than she should have. Her timing really needed to get better or else it would've been her ultimate undoing.

“Yes, I can.” She nodded. “I don't have to go that bad.” She lied, knowing already she would regret the decision, Violet's voice, reminding her to empty her bladder each time before leaving home, ringing in loop inside her brain. Not that she could do much about it.

“I know, toilets at the station are not exactly Buckingham Palace, but-” Robert tried, almost pulling her from her elbow toward the front door.

“I don't mind.” Cora reassured him with a smile. Of course she minded, public toilets were nasty, not to mention that usually the lower class used those and the result was even less comforting.. still, it was no time to get picky: she needed to use the toilet as soon as possible, she would have dig a hole into the ground if that was necessary to avoid embarrassment. Well, not, that only in extreme cases.

“Thank you, darling.” Robert hurriedly said, before waving his hat at the carriage waiting outside.


Wait- there were two.

Cora frowned deeply, locking her glance to the window of the first one, where Violet was sitting, tapping on her cane with her gloved fingers. She was impatient and she was furious and she was in company. That was unexpected.

“What's going on?” She asked softly, but Robert seemed confused as much as she was.

“The Duchess was going to escort us to the picnic.” Violet was saying, though she was distant from her talking to her son, Cora could hear clearly their words. “We thought we could go there by carriage, make a classic entrance.”

“If that makes you happy, mama.”

“It does.” Violet replied, “Now get in the other carriage with Cora, I'll keep the Duchess company.”

“Yes, mama.”


As soon as he turned back, facing Cora once again, she widened her eyes, shaking discretely her head into a silent plead. She needed the loo, she needed the loo now! If she wasn't allowed to go in the house, at least at the station. She couldn't bear over two hours of carriage ride without a wee break.

“I'm sorry, darling, we really must be going.”

Before she could inform her husband about the actual condition of her desperation, which was already pretty bad despite what she'd said to him, he was already pushing on her back, escorting her on the second carriage, hopping in right after her.

“You can hold it, right?” Robert nodded confident “It's not bad, we'll stop halfway to let the horses rest. It'll be near a pub I know, I'll say I'm thirsty and you'll join me.”

Cora stared at him blankly. He really had thought of that, which was.. impressive. Or maybe he'd been desperate himself in the past? She would investigate, but some other time.

“How long?” She asked, and managed to do it naturally, without showing a sign of her real distress; now that she was sitting down, the pressure had mildly dropped.

“About an hour.” He assured, putting his hand on her knees. Cora stopped abruptly her bouncing. “Too much?”

“No, it'll be fine.” She smiled back and, with a sigh, she turned to glance outside the window.

With a strong tug, the carriage moved forward and her bladder jolted too, reminding her, maybe too painfully, of her lie.


She didn't know why she'd done that, since she and Robert talked openly about that, both enjoying holding and desperation yet that one.. was a completely different situation: they hadn't planned it, she decided by herself to stuff her bladder with so much water, thinking she had time, thinking she was doing good when in reality she was doing everything wrong. She was going back, back to not being a Lady anymore, because that wasn't what a Lady would do – getting desperate on purposes, be late, get in trouble, making an awful decision and be desperate during a public occasion without the chance of being anything but perfect. She couldn't admit it to Robert though, at one point, she wouldn't have any choice.

“Why don't you get some rest?” Robert proposed with a smile, giving her a reassuring squeeze before retrieving for good his hand off her knees. She started to bounce it lightly right away. “Kills some time.”

“I'll try that.” Cora smiled him back, snuggling up to his shoulder to find a better position against the jolting ride.

“Good, I'll wake you up at the pub.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her, waiting for her to drift away.


Cora woke up to the high neigh of a horse.

She gasped silently when the heaviness of her bladder dropped down to her womanhood, radiating a familiar heat to her core. She clenched immediately her muscles while sifting with her bum to the edge of her seat, so that her grip would be more efficient.

Her action didn't go unnoticed, for Robert hurriedly covered her shoulders with his arm, patting lightly on her skin.

“Are you all-right?” He asked worriedly.

“Yes.” She nodded, but her voice was still shaking for the effort. Did she leak or did she not? The knuckles on her left hand, firmly gripping the seat next to her quivering thigh, turned white. “Just felt a wave hitting my stomach.” She attempted to smile, but ended up only bending her lips into a cracked grin of pure suffering.

“Don't worry, darling. We're few minutes away from the pub.” He assured.

“Good. Because I really need to use the loo now.” This time, Cora tried and succeeded to smile, as the wave faded away. It had been a strong and a long one and she could hardly bear to think of the amount of liquid that now were sloshing inside her bladder. But soon, soon it would have been all out.

“I know, I'm sorry.” Robert offered a sympathetic smile. It was the third time she'd informed him about her need and he was starting to fell concerned. It wasn't like her to complain about some discomfort of hers so much, so she must've lied about the actual gravity of the situation. Still, they were ten minutes away from the pub. Maybe he could distract her with something..

Cora sighed, trying to find a more comfortable position to wait for the pub to appear – she didn't have the least idea of what to expect, so she just imagined an old building made out of wood with a lot of horses and carriages and maybe men drinking beers – when, looking out of the window, she noticed that the trees were static. She didn't even feel the carriage jolting along the road.

“Robert, why aren't we moving?” She shot her eyes open, turning harshly to him with a death stare. She immediately started to rub her thighs together, fidgeting a little on the spot: the idea of holding a minute more than the required made her feel nauseous.

“One of the horses has cast a shoe.” He explained, rubbing her back to soothe her down “They're fixing it, it won't be long now.”

Those kinds of things took fifteen minutes usually and since they were working on it for a while now, he was confident they would proceed any time now. He hoped so, because he couldn't bear the thought of his wife being in distress without her wanting to or neither a quick solution to treat the problem.

“Hopefully.” Cora whispered between her teeth, glancing outside to follow closely the work of the men. She could even hear Violet shouting and complaining about how long was it taking, gaining back nothing more than apologies that served nothing. Few were the times when she could agree with her mother-in-law, but that was one of them: she would've shouted herself if it could help.


Her fidgeting increased exponentially. Cora was swinging her hips every now and then, drumming her fingers on the seat, hidden from Robert by her thigh – still the soft noise was audible – constantly trying to even her breath to hide her true distress.

Five minutes later she succumbed the overwhelming need of crossing her legs.

Cora tried to keep her eyes on the window, hoping that her husband hadn't noticed or let her movement slide, but she was wrong and his sudden change of position – she was sure he was now looking directly in her direction – made her heart hammer inside her chest, which also increased her breathing, her expanding lungs pressing even more on her strained bladder. It was a disaster.

She immediately clenched her muscles tighter, interlacing her legs and put her hand on her knees to bring them closer to her chest as she rode the wave of desperation off. Cora forcefully breathed slower, until she was sure she could trust her own body again.

That wine she had at lunch and that over liter of water she drank before leaving were moving down, quickly as she expected.

“Cora, is that bad already?” Robert asked, quite befuddled, with a long sigh. She was truly sorry for her.

“It's pretty bad, actually.” She inhaled quickly, trying for a smile that never came. Then another wave hit and she had no choice but to spread her legs open to slam her hand at her crotch and doubled over. For inches, she didn't hit the opposite seat of the carriage with her forehead.

“Cora?” He bent over her, alarmed, rubbing his hand on her back; he felt helpless, truly helpless this time, because what he could do when they were both stuck into a carriage in the middle of the wood, if not wait to arrive at the pub?

“I lied.” She grunted, her voice a hinted sob. “I lied before. I've been desperate some time before you came to get me in the library.”

“What?” Robert tried to bent forward as much as he could to see her face. “What are you saying?”

“I thought I had time, Robert. I'm- I'm sorry!” She cried, rocking strongly her hip on the seat. Her face was on fire, her eyes closed and her forehead frowned.

“Why didn't you tell me, darling?” Robert stuttered, now feeling guilty. He'd been too harsh asking her to follow him right away? She did ask to visit the loo before leaving, but he didn't let her.

“I didn't want to let you down.” Cora whispered quieter, her hand massaging with purpose on her skirt. She eventually fought the desperation's stab and let her hand there, opting only for a leg crossing.

“Let me down?” Robert asked. His eyes were now wandering around madly – from his wife to the window, stretching his neck to see further – to see if there were any improvements.

“I drank a lot of water.” Cora inhaled deeply, trying to tell him without thinking too much of the water she'd gulped down. “To stretch my bladder. So I could have more space for this afternoon.” She sighed, swinging a little “It would have worked if the clock hadn’t betrayed me.”

“Why this would disappoint me, exactly?” Robert rose his eyebrow, looking dumbly in her direction. He wasn't disappointed.. he was aroused – unluckily – because he knew Cora, which meant she had drunk more than necessary. When it came to proving she was a Lady to anyone else that wasn't him, she tended to exaggerate with things, plus she thought she had the chance of relieving herself before leaving, so she had no reason to contain herself, quite the contrary, actually. The poor thing was bursting.

It made him sad and worried, because it wasn't something for their pleasure and she didn't have any escape.

“Look at me, Robert, do I look like a Lady to you?” Cora asked him rhetorically, her voice reaching a high pitch.

He stared at her without answering. It that question had been for him, he would've answered yes straight away, but only because Cora was his Lady no matter what and actually when she was desperate, she turned him on in a way that made him no gentleman. Yet that question was not about him, it was about all the guests there at the picnic, all the people who would see she was obviously bursting for a wee – she could fool the ones in the pub perhaps, but she couldn't make it to the party! - and Violet, what would she think? And the Duchess? It was such an unsafe situation.

“We're only few minutes away from the pub, darling.” He sighed, trying to be reassuring “I'm sorry, I should've known.”

“How could you know?” Cora replied, offering a sweet smile.

“But let me tell you, to my eyes, you couldn't be more beautiful.” He smiled openly, pulling her toward his torso with a light grip on her shoulders.

“Yes, but you're not reliable.” She chuckled, following his suggestion and laid on his chest, trying to relax the muscles of her abdomen and leaving more room to her bladder with her half-lying position.

“Have a break, darling. Don't think about it.” He kissed her temple and reached down between her legs, touching her hand with his and stroking with her. “We're close.” He whispered and smiled when she closed her eyes and slowly took her hands away, enjoying only his strokes, more and more firm as her hips rocking increased.

Finally, the carriage started moving with a harsh pull. He gripped firmly to her womanhood, his forefinger aiming where he thought her throbbing hole was, because he imagined it was what she would've done herself.

Her hand stood in middle-air, balling around for some moments before dropping to her side. He'd done well.

 

“I'm going insane.”

Only five minutes had passed, but Cora felt it like it had been an hour: her husband's rubs weren't enough anymore and she had replaced his hand with both of hers, pulling up rhythmically rather than only rubbing her crotch. She was panting hard, cursing every pebble that made the carriage bounce, along with the horses – poor creatures – that with their trotting were pulling unevenly the whole thing.

"We're almost there.” Robert went for a reassuring squeeze of her knees, which was hitting unmercifully the other one. He pressed his pad against the window, toward a group of small buildings where a massive flow of carriages were heading – he chose not to comment about how many people would have been queued there, waiting for the toilets. “See?”

“Don't do this.” She cried, almost chuckling under her hiss “You're making me go worse!” Knowing she was about to relieve her bladder, indeed made her feel worse. Her hole was on fire, her whole crotch was tired of the clenching and her bladder was spasming nearly constantly now. She couldn't say she was in real pain, but she was almost there.

“You can do it, darling.” He encouraged, smiling deeper when the familiar building came clearly to sight.

The heavenly vision grew larger and larger as they approached and Cora couldn't help but smile when they were few meters away.

The carriage got closer.

And crossed it.

“We passed it.” Cora's jaw dropped. “We passed it. We didn't stop!” She cried, actual tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“What?” Robert almost yelled, fumbling around to get a closer look. His heart sunk when he actually saw the building running behind them, rather quickly too. “This can't be.” He frowned.

“What am I going to do?!” She cried, her thighs slamming together. Being so close to relief and watch the occasion passing by under her nose.. there couldn't have been an eviler fate.

“Hey mate!” Robert climbed up to his seat, tapping his fingers on the small window that divided the back of the carriage from the front, where the coachman was, reins and whip in his hands, clicking his tongue with a jolly tune. “Why didn't we stop at the inn?”

“The horses got some rest earlier, milord.” The man replied, turning slightly to watch the earl, but not fully to mind the horses and the road. “Lady Grantham and the Duchess orders are to drive straight to the party. Sorry, milord.”

“Thank you.” He muttered low, then he waited for the driver to turn again and pulled the small curtain to shield the window. “You could go once there, Cora.” He went on, well knowing she couldn't last that long and if she did, it would've been a miracle. Plus, her dance would've been too obvious. Only a miracle could save them.

“Robert, you do not understand.” She stomped her feet repeatedly, her whole body shaking “I need to pee! I need to pee now!” She kicked her shoes off and, with a lot of difficulties and determination, she sat on her knees, her left heel working between her folds, under her skirt, where her aching hands have been.

She had never been so specific about her needs. That was how bad she needed to go. It made him shiver, but he didn't know if because he was excited or because he felt incredibly sorry for his poor wife. Seeing her like this made him want to go too, even if his bladder was empty.

“I do understand, darling, but what can we do about it?” He tried to reason, stroking his hair with his hand. “The only thing would be warning mama and the Duchess-”

“Have you lost your mind?” Cora screeched, sobbing a little as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her bladder felt heavier than ever, her inner walls about to explode, literally.

“I could say it's for me.” He proposed.

“I wouldn't have any reason to follow you, plus it would be obvious. I can't stand still anymore.” Cora shook vehemently her head, then her lips opened up abruptly into a silent cry, only sharp breaths came out of her. “Oh I'm leaking- I'm leaking!” She hissed, moving her hips and legs, clenching every muscle she knew she had in her body to stop the dampness moving around her skirts.

“Cora, there must be something-”

“There's no time, help me or I'll pee all over the carriage!” She shouted. At this point, she didn't even care if the coachman had heard.

“Let me think, let me think!” He hummed, tapping his fingers onto his forehead. Cora's suffering moan ringing inside his brain, both hurrying hi and distract him.

“Heavens, I'm peeing already.” She said behind clenched teeth, grouping her skirt to hold herself more efficiently. She eventually stopped the flow, with some effort and a lot of spurts; she was wet. Cora sighed and rocked stronger her whole body, back and forth, praying for him to find a solution.

“Hold on, dear.” He encouraged, though, at his choice of words, he got a scoff.

He looked around frantically, though they were rather trapped. It was a carriage, after all, so nothing more than a box with wheels pulled by horses, and what did they have? Not even a blanket to wipe the flood if she ended up having an accident because it was summer, not a thing resembling a bowl to collect her pee, only his hat, which was out of the question for so many reasons. And then, what they were supposed to do? Walk out of the carriage with a bowl full of golden liquid?

“Robert, did we brought something to drink?” Cora asked, almost in tears, rocking so hard that she was hitting the door with her shoulder. He was sure she would end up black and blue before sunset.

At first, the meaning of that wasn't clear to him: asking for something drink when she was already bursting to wee, but then.. then, all became clear. And this time, luck had been on their side: they put the picnic basket in their carriage.

He immediately went to open it, digging his fingers between sandwiches and cookies, cakes and pies – that new cook truly wanted to make an impression – and finally he found it.

“Lemonade.” Robert pulled out the bottle with a triumphant look. “We can disguise.”

The vision made her cry. She wasn't sure if out of happiness or out of desperation, because the briefest look at that lemonade made her spurt again and her only way to stop the flow had been plugging her hole with her finger, which hurt. She was now in pain.

“Until someone wants to try it.” She chuckled, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Not that she cared much.

“I'll pour it out of the window, darling, just hang in there.”

“Oh, I'm hanging all-right.” Cora smiled miserably, but as soon as she realized what he was doing, she shook her head no and stabbed him with her elbow strongly “No! Don't do that, they could see!”

“You're right.” Robert froze with the cap in his hand. “I'll drink it.” He decided. He held the bottle with his knees and went to dig more into the basket.

What was he doing, was beyond her.

“Robert, what the hell are you doing?”

He shot his head up, glancing over her matter-of-factly.

“I'm looking for the glass.”

“Don't mind the glass! I'll pee all over you!” She played, though she was really bursting.

Robert felt incredibly dumb to let his wife suffer even one second more over such a silly thing. He brought the bottle to his lips and tried to gulp down the entire liquid as fast as he could. It was refreshing but sour and he didn't like sour things.

Cora tried to focus on anything else rather than his gulping sounds and the sloshing of the lemonade inside the bottle. She knew he didn't like lemonade and truly she was already impressed… he was going fast, but not fast enough.

She shifted to the edge of the seat when another wave took over, her bladder spasmed and through her fingers a big spurt exploded and ended up on the floor, next to his feet.

He dropped his eyes in horror, his lips red and marked by the mouth of the bottle. He was only half way. He would have never make it and the realization swept through him painfully: he was helpless before his wife's pain.

“I'm trying, darling.” He panted.

“I know.” She nodded, gasping “But I can't wait.” She cried and stole the bottle from his hands. Without thinking twice she started to drink, gulping down without setting her mind on the idea of stuffing more liquids inside of her.

Her fingers dig further between her folds, plugging her leaking hole until it hurt and then squeezed her skin with the remained fingers, trying to produce some sort of physical barrier which could be held with only one hand.

She licked her lips, the taste bringing her back in time when she spent her summer at Newport drinking lemonade with her mother under the loan. She forced herself to think of that and let her shaking hand to drop, the now empty bottle approaching slowly her crotch area.

When she hid it under the skirt and prepare to let her muscles loose and free her flow, she realized she yet couldn't: too many fabric. She wouldn’t be able to see the stream and she would make a mess, maybe even stain or ruin her dress; of course she couldn't have that.

“What's the problem?” Robert asked nervously.

“I can't!” She cried “I need to take my skirt off!” She panted and put the bottle on the seat as she stuffed her hands down to her womanhood, under the skirts of her dress. She turned to give him her back. “Help me, please!”

“The whole dress off?” He asked frantically, pulling close all the window as he waited for an answer. It went dark almost immediately, but there still was light enough to see decently. If the choose was to have little more difficulties or having his wife's privates displayed in the middle of the road.. surely he wouldn't pick the latter.

“No, it's two pieces.” Cora instructed, panting harder. “There's a ribbon and few buttons for the skirt.” She was thanking warmly her maid for her choice of a two-pieces dress for the occasion, claiming it was more practical – heavens, it was.

Cora felt it all, just like her first hold, that fatal night. Also, his fingers were much larger than the maid's so it was even worse. She lost a few drops before he finally announced she was free.

It took her some time to get rid of the voluminous skirt, but when she did, the bulge of her rock hard bladder was even more prominent. She cradled it to give it more support and felt it was almost as wide as her first.

Cora had just gripped the bottle when her husband’s yell made her froze on the spot and even loose some more spurts.

“Cora, what's that?” He had his eyes open wide.

“It's a crotch open underwear, silly.” She giggled, sitting back down with her hand firmly gripping her womanhood, her thighs pressing together hard – she feared she might have even stopped the blood circulation of her hand. “I had plans for tonight. Why you don't like it?”

“I do like it.” Robert cleared his throat. He could see the dark patch of hair peeking through her fingers. Dribbling fingers. “I'm not sure how I feel about you being at the party, all the while also being practically naked the whole time.” He tried to look angry, but he just couldn't. He was too aroused from both the vision and her desperation.

“No one can see that. Now, please be quiet.” She inhaled sharply through her nose and let a slow blow of air out of her mouth as she attempted to spread her quivering legs to position the bottle decently.

Another leaking made her hands wet, warm and slippery. It took all her strength not to squirm away and lost her position.

Robert watched in awe as she grunted, clenching her teeth tight when she slowly peeled her hand away from her folds and liquids started to drip out of her. She was so full that her bulge bubbled visibly through the spasms of her bladder and her skin was so tense that the smallest veins were coloring red her navel area, down to her crotch.

Cora spread her legs wide open. She struggled to align the bottle with her hole, the drops helping her with the process, but she didn't even secure it when the waterfall started to gush out of her.

She gasped loudly, pressing the mouth of the bottle close to her skin, trying to ignore the pain of the external object pressing to her privates.

Cora was peeing hard, the water clear that took the lemonade's place quickly.

Too quickly.

Her pee sloshed inside the glass and it was filling it.

It has almost reached the top of the bottle, but she showed no sign of stopping. She needed to go still. She felt so full even if she almost filled the bottle.

“Darling, stop.” He whispered concerned, his eyes locked on the yellowish liquid continuing to arrive into the transparent recipient.

“I- I can't!” Cora sobbed, indeed trying to clench her muscles to stop the flow. The stream decreased, but it didn't stop at all.

“You need to stop.” Robert raised his voice a little, gripping the bottle himself. Not that he could take it away from her, of course.

“I'm going to pee all over!” She cried loudly and he hissed, his teeth clenched, when the stream reduced again into spurts, then drops. The liquid overflowed and he took the bottle away to cap it.

Cora shoved her hands into her crotch, massaging the growing wetness with aim as her hips rocked on their own. She stopped the leaking, yet the need of finish her pee was there, strong and powerful and almost overwhelming.

She started to pant, moving one hand over her stomach to test her fullness. She was softer, but she was still full. Normally, at this point, in the quietness of her home, she would start thinking of visiting the loo.

Suddenly, the waved passed and she took a long breath, shrugging her dripping fingers in the air to get them dry.

She closed her legs and, with a sigh, noted she could act normally as nothing had happened. She could bear the sensation. For at least a couple of hours, maybe more, until the end of the party.

She was smiling, Robert giggling, as he helped her back into her dress and cover the mess that laid on the bottom of the carriage. Once again, maybe, she was safe.

Or was she?

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Please leave a feedback ;) Thank you for reading!

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  • 4 weeks later...

I love this series!

It is exactly the kind of story that turns me on! (Detailed description of the desperation, limited or no wetting, and normal bladder capacities - no 48hr holds). Please keep it coming.

In future, I would love to read desperation scenes from other characters. I second the suggestion of a group desperation, every one being too polite to excuse themselves though all of them are bursting at the seams. I would also love a chapter where Robert is desperate - seems so unfair that Cora doesn't get to have some fun with him ;).

And could we have a flash back scene detailing Cora's train journey desperation that Robert alluded to? Pretty please?

As far as settings are concerned, I've always wanted to read about the balls. Dancing with a full bladder must have been excruciating. And shopping - I don't think "public conveniences" existed, but women must have loved to shop nonetheless.

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  • 5 weeks later...

 

On 1/8/2017 at 8:04 PM, Mickey said:

I love this series!

It is exactly the kind of story that turns me on! (Detailed description of the desperation, limited or no wetting, and normal bladder capacities - no 48hr holds). Please keep it coming.

In future, I would love to read desperation scenes from other characters. I second the suggestion of a group desperation, every one being too polite to excuse themselves though all of them are bursting at the seams. I would also love a chapter where Robert is desperate - seems so unfair that Cora doesn't get to have some fun with him ;).

And could we have a flash back scene detailing Cora's train journey desperation that Robert alluded to? Pretty please?

As far as settings are concerned, I've always wanted to read about the balls. Dancing with a full bladder must have been excruciating. And shopping - I don't think "public conveniences" existed, but women must have loved to shop nonetheless.

First of all, thank you so much! A desp group is coming in the future chapter acutally.. it's my first try ever so I hope it doesn't suck that much. As for Robert.. I've got something stored for him too. Stay tuned (until the end, maybe?). Flashbacks? Maybe. I'd like to explore Cora's first months of marriage too.
Also, you gave me ideas for the future chapters so.. thank you again!

Likewise, thanks to @knarf11 and @althewatcher! A new chapter is arriving soon. This following week, maybe :)

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

I'm truly sorry for the delay, but I've been terribly busy. Hope you like the update!
Thanks to @DerivativeWings for the inspiring idea!

A Proper Lady

Fandom: Downton Abbey
Characters: Cora, Robert, various
Setting: pre-serie (around 1890)
Warning for this chapter: desperation (+group desp), wetting.

Chapter 6 – Picnic Party

About an hour later, they arrived at the picnic party.

Robert had the bottle in his hand and as soon as he climbed down the carriage, he faked a stumble and dropped the bottle, which shattered into pieces instantly. A couple of scolds from his mother about his clumsiness were nothing, compared to the avoided disaster.

Cora on the other hand, still needed to pee. It was a constant thought that she could successfully push in the back of her mind, for the moment and she was only happy that she'd emptied her bladder – half of it, she feared – not enough to erase her discomfort completely, but enough for her to act normally. She'd endured much more with worse scenery, so she was confident she could survive the party without any trouble or very little ones.

That was what she thought, at least.

Mindful of her previous experience, she knew she couldn't ask where the loo was or her lady reputation would've been ruined – that Robert didn't know or never thought about it, so she needed to put on a straight face and survive the party as best as she could. Hopefully, they would stop at the pub on the way home, but at the worst, Cora was confident she could hold on until home.

She playfully scolded her husband too, who combed his hair with his hand, faking an embarrassed smile as his mouth cast apologies to his deaf mother.

“Try to behave yourself!” Violet concluded with a stern look before leaving with the Duchess, heading to a group of older lady nearby.

Of course, groups were already forming and Cora felt sick to the heart thinking she would've to go herself to meet with petulant girls about her age. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed to never be enough for them.

“You'll be alright, Cora?” Robert was whispering, concern all over his face. She thought he was cute.

“Of course I will.” She promptly replied, smiling sweetly. “You can go with your friends now.”

“It's a picnic darling.” He giggled, quite softened by her confused expression. Sometimes she really looked like a child and those are the occasion where Robert truly realized she was still new to their customs. Sure, in America they all had the same things, but they were done differently. “I'd like to stay with you, if you don't mind.” He winked, making her blush.

“Of course I don't mind.” She replied mildly, taking his arm.

They had done a little stroll before Cora's eyes caught a familiar silhouette standing alone by a tree. She squinted her eyes, tugging a little he husband's jacket to catch his attention too.

“Isn't that Myrtle?” Robert inquired. It was odd to find her there, by herself, pacing restlessly under a tree with her head down: since the first day they'd met her she had been the gleeful one, timid and shy, but joyful.. with Cora and Robert of course, since she was a simple girl who had married a noble, quite Cora and Robert's story to the eyes of the other girls.

“Myrtle?” Cora called her softly as soon as they got closer. Still, the blond hadn't noticed. When she heard her friend calling, she nearly jumped.
Her face was red and her lips parted; they could almost hear her heart thumping inside her chest, only slowing down at the realization of who she had before her.

“Cora, Robert!” She smiled, still, her voice was uneven. “You're here too!” and she attempted a clumsily hug. When she detached from Cora, she swallowed hard.

“What are you doing here by yourself? Where's Anthony?” Cora asked, leaving Robert alone so she could take Myrtle's arm instead. “Are you alright?”

“Oh I'm alright.” She nodded, but didn't look convinced at all “Anthony is sick, nothing serious, but he preferred to stay at home. I'm here with my mother in law, she's with the matrons of course.” She sighed “You know I don't like our lovely friends, Cora, they would mock me.”

“I know what you mean.” Cora agreed, well knowing the joy o being alone in a group of snobs. “But now there's two of us.”

“Yes, so they can mock us both.” Myrtle scoffed.

“Myrtle, that is so not like you.” Robert playfully replied “How do you know?”

“I know alright!” Myrtle spat, looking quite angry all of a sudden.

Cora and Robert exchanged a perplexed look.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Cora asked again.

“I'm really sorry-” Myrtle gasped, asking silently for forgiveness, looking directly at Robert “it's just-” the girl turned her head to Cora this time, blinking allusively “I really-”

“Robert, darling, be an angel. Would you fetch us some drinks?” Cora asked.

Robert frowned deeply, staring at them both. His wife would have never asked for drinks after that crazy carriage ride and he could bet she needed to visit the bathroom still. He cleared his throat and gave a nod, deciding it was about womanly things he couldn't understand.

“I really don't know what to do.” Myrtle whispered – a loud whisper – when they found themselves alone.

“About what?” Cora questioned. She was starting to think wildly: cheating, betrayals, finance problems, babies…

“I got myself into troubles.” Myrtle gasped sadly. Her eyes weren't for Cora though, for they were scanning the place searching for something or so it seemed.

“What kind of trouble, dear?” Cora asked again, following her into her nervous stroll, the smallest she'd ever seen: a couple of steps away from the tree and then back again. “I could help.”

“How could you?” She was smiling now but it was a sad one.

“Myrtle you're scaring me.” Cora said sincerely. “You're the only friend I've got, I want to help!” it was true. They only had each other in that mean world. They both knew that.

“I'm about to lose control of my bladder.” Myrtle mumbled, softly but clearly between her clenched teeth. He cheeks became the color of two ripe tomatoes.

“What?” Cora stuttered.

“I need to use the loo. Like right now.” the blond growled.

Only then Cora realized that her nervous stroll was only a masquerade for her potty-dance.

“Oh.” Cora sighed. She felt relieved for she was not the only one with that pressing need but also she felt sorry for her friend, not to mention that seeing her distress made her a little more desperate herself.

“My mother-in-law wants me to hold until the end of the party.” She gasped and crossed her ankles. “But I won't. I know I won't.”

Cora was speechless. Not only she completely understand what her friends was going through, now that she knew her needs, she could detect much clearer her problems and gestures, which were pretty obvious even to an unknown eye. That only meant that she needed to go, bad, way worse than her.

“Of course you will.” Cora said encouragingly, even though she doubt it: who better than her could identify those specific signs?

“My mother-in-law will think I'm some sort of peasant girl who can't control herself. I will never be a lady.” She lamented and her knees went weak for a moment.

Cora was starting to think that it was some sort of tradition or a tire of passage. She even thought of herself being mean to her son's wife if one day she'd had a son.

“We can do this, Myrtle, come on.” She cleared her throat, her friend's movements playing with her own brain. “I- kinda need to go too.”

“You do?” Myrtle asked, her eyes growing wide in surprise.

“I do.” Cora nodded.

“I wish I were Belle.” The blond chuckled, sighing heavily as she leaned against the trunk.

“Who?” Cora lifted her eyebrow, happy that the new subject could distract Myrtle and herself from their dances. After all, she really didn't know who was this Belle.

“Belle. She's well- you know.” Myrtle awkwardly gestured toward a group of laughing men. Most of them were young and they were loud, each one of them with a strong drink in his hand, to tell the truth, two: one full and one empty.

“Why is she here then?” She whispered. Cora was shocked: they all wanted ladies at their parties and yet they invited a.. seducer to their gatherings.

“She threatens everybody to speak. She has many partners you know. After all, she just wants to attend these parties and entertain the men.. those fools, they let her catch 'em like that.” Myrtle sighed, then shook her head “Parties for silence, sounds like a good compromise.”

“Well, what does she has to do with our problem?” Cora wondered.

“She's no lady!” Myrtle spat, matter-of-factly. Cora nodded, even if she didn't quite catch the meaning of all that. Right now she could only think about that she needed the loo, so everything was complicated for her focused brain.

“She can go whenever she wants?” Cora tried.

“Oh she does much worse.” Myrtle moaned a little, crossing her legs under her dress. Her eyes were squinted. “The boys stuff her with as many drinks as possible, then group around her and play. Making her wet herself right in the middle of the garden.”

“Why would they do that?” Cora was truly shocked.

“She is no lady but she doesn't want to walk around with a wet dress. There's a chance she might flash 'em.” She shook violently her head. Maybe those talks weren't what she needed after all. “Nobody judges her. Quite the contrary.” She hissed and there was a hint of envy in Myrtle's eyes.

Cora could understand. Not being judge and enjoy something like that. She wished she were Belle too! But she had to admit she had her fun in her bedroom with Robert and she could bet that was much better than what Belle offered.

“I must admit she's lucky.” Cora commented, beginning to swift on her spot for her bladder had started to fill up. With those talks and that view of Myrtle squirming to hold everything in.

“I thought I could find a solution.” Myrtle sobbed. “But I'm too scared.”

Suddenly, Cora realized what Myrtle wanted to do behind that tree and it was the worst idea she could have: she was too exposed.

“It's too dangerous, Myrtle and-”

“And-?”

“And they're coming over here.” Cora swallowed hard, trying her best to smile at the group of girls approaching, their chattering and high giggles ringing into her ears. They say her accent was awful but Cora found those chirping way more annoying.

“I'm sorry Sarah but the spot is occupied already.” the baroness smirked.

Cora well remembered her face, her voice, the hatred she felt when she had to endure through her first hold. That hideous girl seemed to be associated with that kind of problem way too much.. she smelled one girl's needs like a hunter dog!

Only seconds later she noticed that one of the baroness' group was red as a tomato, squirming and eying around with a preoccupied face.
She, the baroness and some other of her friends, seemed to doing great while Myrtle and this Sarah girl seemed in trouble. Doing good made Cora felt proud and confident.

“Is there something wrong, here?” She asked nonchalantly, almost neglecting Myrtle, who suddenly gripped to her arm. It looked like a normal gesture, but her nails were digging into Cora's flesh and the gloves didn't help a bit – she knew Myrtle was trying to better cope with her body and her spasming bladder, so she tried her best to act normal.

“Of course not!” Sarah spat, her cheeks growing purple.

“No.” The baroness repeated, but a diverted and mean smirk was painted upon her thin lips.

Sarah was a petite girl with red hair and a tiny waist, surely squeezed into a corset that had been pulled to its limits. Her green dress wrapped her slim body perfectly and the skirt was considerably less wider than the average, which didn't cover well the movements of her legs. She was shaking, rubbing her thighs and her hands were balling at her sides.

Cora swallowed hard. Now things would get interesting. Sarah, Myrtle… not to mention herself! Her bladder was extending, she could almost feel her skin stretching as her needs became more and more compelling. Having those two right before her eyes, knowing exactly what was the problem, was torturing her body.

“Well, I think we shall find my husband. He was about to bring us something to drink.” Cora said casually, searching with not precise aim into the crowd.

“Of course. He's there.” the baroness pointed her finger: Robert was approaching with two glasses and a large smile. “We'll wait for you here. We'll take tea together.”

Cora's heart dropped. She almost screamed when Myrtle dug her nails deeper into her skin. She felt a small spurt escaping her muscles and she clenched everything back.

Myrtle's stiff walk was an obvious warning of her needs, but she managed to stroll alongside Cora until they meet Robert.

“Here.” He said proudly, but his smile sunk when he noticed their faces and the baroness with her group of friends behind them. “Are they mocking you again?”

“No, they set us up.” Myrtle murmured, taking her cup filled with reddish liquid between her shaking hands.

“What do you mean? You need help?” Robert asked, throwing an eloquent glance at her wife. Cora shook her head.

“No, you go. We'll manage, somehow.” She smiled and sighed loudly. “I'm sorry Myrtle but we must drink this.”

“No, I can not.” the girl shook violently her head.

“We have no choice.” Cora sighed and gulped down the content of her glass, leaving just a few drops on the bottom.

Myrtle didn't reply and did the same.


Five minutes later, they were all sitting in a circle of cushions, under a white tent with a very short legged table in the middle of them. They were six: Cora, Myrtle, the baroness, Sarah and other two, twin sisters coming from Edinburgh to pay a visit to their relative.

It made Cora a little uneasy that everyone obviously knew about Myrtle and Sarah's need to pee. Nobody seemed to care about that, not that they could talk about it, of course, but what made Cora mad was the baroness, always daring them to drink more tea. She looked so willing to find out who would give up first.

And she didn't even know about her own need, thank God! Those were two fine English girl – even if Myrtle wasn't noble – she couldn't even imagine she would have done with her! Well, she did, actually, because now that the baroness was playing with those two, Cora couldn't help but notice that it was almost the same game she endured when she was the one suffering.

Cora sighed, pretending to sip from her cup which surprisingly hosted the same amount of liquid after every gulp. Fortunately, this time, the attentions weren't for her.

She could only feel sorry for Myrtle, now squirming impatiently, sometimes even closing her eyes, when the baroness offered more tea to Sarah and vice versa. Myrtle and Sarah were desperate. Everybody knew that and no one could do anything.

Cora, on the other hand, was distracted by her own impelling need: her bladder felt incredibly heavy and an odd warmness was spreading at her core. She wasn't sure it was a leaking of just sweat, because she felt generally hot and down there, her muscles were working hard to avoid the yearned release and also to fight her own bladder, which was spasming terribly, more and more often now, since it had its first, uncompleted relief.

She'd strategically sat down on the top of a small pyramid of three cushions, and placed herself right in the middle in a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. The third cushions was between her legs, its stuffed corner pointing upward, pressing rather annoyingly to her center; but it was helping and that was the only thing that mattered.

Cora stared with difficulty as her friends was forced to squirm like mad and gulp down cup after cup, until it was too late and her hand flew between her legs like it had its own will. Myrtle's face grew more red, like never before, and a soft giggling spread around the small group, starting from the baroness and ending with the twins. Sarah was gasping loudly, gripping to a cushion, refusing so hard to grip at her own crotch even if that was the only real thing she wanted to do and it was written all over her face.

“Looks like we've got a winner.” the baroness said proudly, but it was then that Cora noticed a darker shadow spreading near her. And the source of it was Sarah.
A squirming, red, mortified Sarah wiggling her legs and making a mess with the smaller cushions in front of them as she tried to stop the flow that gushed out from between her legs. At some point her knee bumped into the small table and knocked all the cups.

“Sarah!” the baroness screamed, jumping onto her feet, quickly mirrored by the twins.

“I- I can't stop!” Sarah whimpered and Cora stared at the poor girl with her wet dress. Her bladder was spasming and she had to focus to push back the will of grabbing herself to a corner of her head.

“You're such a disappointment!” the baroness scolded and left, chaperoned by the other two.

Sarah was left alone in her warm puddle, which kept growing in size as the girl stayed there, watching as her accident made itself more and more noticeable.
Cora felt sorry for her and Myrtle.. Myrtle almost didn't even noticed. Or she did and she was trying her best to control herself: all that tea and the sight of the relief right in front of her, she sound of the drops falling from the dress and hitting the carpet. Everything was torture. It was a torture for Cora, she couldn't imagine what it was for Myrtle.
Nevertheless, she wanted to end her friend's suffering. She wasn't like her, after all, she couldn’t possibly enjoy the feeling, since she'd been complaining since she first arrived. But now.. now they had an ally, right?

“Sarah, don't worry. You'll be fine.” Cora tried to sound comforting toward the girl, but Sarah kept staring at the void, also, her brow seemed to get increasingly wrinkled.

“Spare me.” She grunted. “Happy? You filthy peasant!” she screamed, this time she was talking to Myrtle, who rose two big, watery eyes as her lips were parted into a silent scream and both of her hands were buried down her crotch area.

“I didn't do anything!” Myrtle screamed back, her voice quivered.

“You didn't that's right! So I lost it!” Sarah whimpered, still angry “And now I lost the baroness' sympathy too!” She gasped and stood up with some difficulty. The front of her dress was completely soaked but she didn't seem to care a bit. “Go on and pee! You won!” She spat and ran away, trying to cover herself with her closed umbrella.

Cora watched the scene with shock on her face. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen nor heard.

“I'm losing it.” Myrtle whimpered loudly.

Cora nodded and tried to stand up. The heaviness on her bladder worked hard on her muscles and the brick she was storing inside dropped dangerously further down.
Se crossed her ankles under her dress and tried to act normal as she offered her friend a hand to stand as well.

Myrtle leaned almost completely on top of her and the extra weight made her silently whimper.

“Myrtle, if you don't want to end up like Sarah you must do something!” She warned. Oh how much she wanted to 'do something' herself!

“I must ask for the bathroom, I have no choice.” the girl sobbed, and pulled Cora – for as much as she could – toward a group of servant discussing the better way to serve the beverages.
 

Five minutes later – which seemed like hundreds for poor Myrtle – they were heading toward the bathrooms, escorted by a kind maid which swore not to talk to anyone about that inconvenience. Myrtle was walking oddly but no one could tell if it was for desperation or for a sore ankle, which was pretty good.

Cora envied her: she was past pride and past the consideration of what a proper lady had to do, she just went to ask where the loo was and now she was in there, few seconds away to let the river flow.

Cora was on the other side of the door, swinging slightly from one foot to the other, waiting patiently in the silence of a hollow corridor.
And then.. she heard it. The muffled sigh coming from Myrtle, the loud hissing, the powerful stream hitting the wall of the bowl, going on for ages.
It was too much to handle. Cora grabbed herself hard, through the dress as her other hand went to search through the folds of her skirts until it reached the inner one, the cottony fabric of her undergarments, open at her crotch area. She pushed her forefinger directly on her engorged pearl to transport her focus from her pulsating core to her throbbing skin and it worked for a moment. Then, stronger, it came back the sensation of a wave hitting the lower barrier of her bladder.
Her finger touched something wet and hot.
Cora slammed her thighs back together hard and removed her hand to avoid a more consistent leaking. Why touching herself didn't help her like always?

She stayed frozen for a minute or two, gasping hard and rubbing her knees together. Myrtle was still peeing, softly now, but still peeing.
Cora sighed and closed her eyes.

“Who's in there?!”

Cora shot her eyes open with her heart thumping in her throat. It wasn't a familiar voice and it scared the hell out of her. The damp feeling between her legs was a painful proof of that.

 “No one, ma'am.” Cora promptly answered.

“Don't play with me, child. I prayed it was you the weak soul who wanted to be a lady but isn't able but.. it's Myrtle. I knew it wasn't suitable for my son!”

Cora's heart started to run. She was sorry for Myrtle but.. what about her reputation too? She'd worked so hard with Violet and now Myrtle's mother-in-law was about to threaten everything?

“She really had no choice.” Cora murmured.

“Poor Sarah lost her battle but she fought!” The older woman pointed out. “Go now child. Your family is looking for you.” she sternly said. “Unfortunately for me, I know you didn't do anything wrong.”

Cora wasn't sure how to feel about that last sentence, but she was thankful that she was safe, at least. But.. what about poor Myrtle?

“Give her a second chance, will you?” Cora tried, swallowing hard at the muffled sobbing sound coming from behind the door.

“I said go.” the woman repeated.

“Go, Cora. I'll be fine.” Myrtle's voice sounded awful. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

Reluctantly, Cora left her friends alone. But happily she found out that Violet decided it was time to return home already. She didn't know the source of that miracle, but frankly she didn't care. Something about a mismatch between her mother-in-law and the duke, her husband had told her; but as long as it was something that could take her home and save her from embarrassment, Cora wasn't about to ask questions.
She would have written to Myrtle as soon as she got home.

“How are you, darling?” Robert asked preoccupied as soon as they got into the carriage.

“I'm surviving.” Cora chuckled, leaning her back to her seat so she could relax a bit more her tensed muscles.

“I saw you heading with Myrtle to the loo?” He inquired. There was some sort of hope in his eyes and the fact that he didn't want her to suffer to the point that he clearly hoped for a yes, despite everything that came with such an answer, really made her happy.

“Poor Myrtle had no choice. I stayed to guard but..” Cora sighed, chewing on her lip.

“But?”

“I didn't do a good job because she was being loud and she was making me more desperate and I closed my eyes and her mother-in-law caught us.” She shook her head and unintentionally crossed her legs.

“What did she say?” He asked alarmed.

“To me? Nothing. But poor Myrtle..” Cora sighed again, rubbing her hand on her lower abdomen. It was hard and even if she was applying the slightest pressure, she could definitely feel a burning sensation down to her hole. Her tensed skin screamed for release. She gasped.

“How bad is it?” Robert inquired.

“It's bad. Your drink dropped directly in my tummy and those sips of tea did wonders to my brain.” She sighed, slightly irritated.

“I figured it.” He said.

Cora only then noticed he was carrying the most malicious smile upon his face.

“You did?” She asked with a smirk, shifting a little on the seat and turning her torso toward her husband.

“I brought you a gift.” He nodded and, from the basket, he pulled out an empty flute for champagne.

“What's that for?” Cora asked confused, eying the shiny glass. Of course, they couldn't walk out of the carriage with a suspicious flute full of yellow liquid, nor they could toss its content out of the window.

“Don't worry, my dearest.” Robert chuckled, almost as he could read her mind. “It's for later.”
He hid the glass inside his jacket with a swift movement, the same smoothness Cora used to hid her hand between her legs, under her skirt, massaging mildly her dripping folds. Her muscles clenched, the sloshing ocean inside of her magically settling; she could tell he had something in mind and the thrill was overwhelming.
If that was a challenge, she accepted. She could definitely save her fullness for a later entertainment.
 

So there she was, shutting her eyes as she was trying to shut her muscles, all the while the carriage loped down the path. The way home seemed shorter, in a way, which amused her, how that feeling was the same in every journey and also delighted her, now, given the situation.
Thankfully, the Countess decided to have dinner in her room that night, claiming a terrible headache, which meant she would retire as soon as they'd crossed the front door.
They didn't see why they couldn't do the same.

Cora was rubbing her thighs together, in the hall, patiently waiting for her husband to explain that, given the big meal they both had during the party, they preferred not to eat at all. Both her maid and his valet seemed confused, trying more than once to suggest a light broth or a simple tea with toast. It goes without saying that at the thought of tea – or hot steaming broth, for the records – Cora's bladder boiled within her, sending a sharp wave of desperation down to her center.
She gasped lightly, covering her mouth with her gloved hand and faked a small yawn, at which both the member of the staff responded with a sympathetic glance. Maybe they'd finally convinced themselves?

“Oh and that would be all,” Robert added with a neutral smile “you're both dispensed for the night. See you tomorrow morning.”

Cora felt her cheek on fire at the implication. She hardly thought she could stay still while her maid took off her dress and unpin her hair and dress her for the night, but saying out that they would spend the night together was an entirely different matter.

“Goodnight milord, milady.” They both bowed and she replied with a timid goodbye.

“Robert you're-” She clenched her teeth, a new wave of desperation forcing her to double over.

“Forget it, I don't want to wait a second more.” He replied with enthusiasm, pushing on the handle and open the door for her, which locked behind his back half a second later.

“I don't think I can wait a second more.” Cora chuckled, though she was panting, still slightly bowed, now with her hand at her crotch, her wide dress with a cleft in the middle.

“That's what I thought.” He smiled back, walking next to her. “And it makes you so beautiful.” He added with a sigh.
At the low parlor light of the room, the warmness spreading from the mantel, she indeed was beautiful and her soft panting, her uneven dance, her attempting backing toward the bed to have some sort of support enhanced her beauty, at his eyes.

Cora giggled, the fullness in her body sinking lower and lower each tick of the clock.
She watched carefully her husband's moves as he removed his jacket and suspenders, leaving them hanging at his sides, and built a throne of pillows against the head of the bed; he removed the covers and rushed in the adjacent bathroom to retrieve some towels, which he folded and placed on the linens. Lastly, he put the flute on the bedside table and walked hurriedly at her side.

“You thought of everything, I see.” She beamed, drawing a small breath when she felt his fingers work on the laces of her dress until it finally came undone and roll off of her. Cora stepped out of it with no small difficulties, her hands finally touching her bare skin at her womanhood, hot and pulsating and screaming its release.

“I had some free time.” He replied with a chuckle and hurriedly looked for the corset.

“Leave it.” She said with a challenging tone. “The opening it's on the front, I'll manage. At the right time.” The corner of her mouth tilted deliciously up. “Now tell me what you'd like to do.”

“I just want to see how many flutes are in you.” Robert said with a playful tone.

“One at the time?” Cora asked. That implied that she needed to control her flow each time, and wait while he emptied the glass somewhere – perhaps on command too.

“How's that sounds?” He looked thrilled.

“Sounds challenging.” Cora nodded. “I like it.”

She walked stiffly to the bed, rubbing her feet against the carpet, fearing that one daring move would compromise her hold. Cora fell on top of the bed, which bounced vigorously under her weight, making her regret the decision of letting her body fall down loose end. The water inside of her sloshed unmerciful inside her bladder, stretching its walls in various ways.
Her slender fingers explored her folds and plugged the leaking hole, her thighs shut and her breathing irregular.

When she decided it was safe to move again, she shifted into the bed, settling her bum on the folded towel, and propped her back against the pillows.
She was shaking, her knees bent up as her hand rubbed her center, waiting for the right moment to remove it and let her husband free access to start their new game.

Robert gently sat to her side, his torso turned to her, her quivering legs in front of her and he started to rub her thigh, whispering encouraging words as he held the flute in his hand.

Cora smiled and tried to relax. She tilted her head back and slowly, very slowly, removed her hand, which was moist and hot, and closed it into a fist around the sheets.

“This is going to be very hard.” She panted, a grin spreading across her face as she carefully parted her knees from each other.
She clenched harder her inner muscles, trying to mimic the procedure with her jaw; small sparkles of sweat adorning her forehead as she spread her legs wide for him, leaving him to look freely at her pulsating womanhood, her muscles contracting to keep everything inside.

Cora couldn't stay still and her hips rolled on their own, yet she was determined in keeping her thighs wide open. She was contorting, but from her waist up.

“Hold it?” Robert proposed and she just nodded. His hands moved from the outside of her thigh to the inner part of it. The crotch open underwear framing the divine vision before him.

A glimpse of water peeked through her stretched folds and he hurriedly put the flute against the leaking. It was a single drop, which caused a long moan to escape Cora's lip, but it remained alone and it slid to the bottom of the glass in no time.

“Not yet.” Cora murmured, her hand balling to her side and settling to the bump of her bladder. It was small, squished inside the corset, but she knew it would have been much bigger without any clothes on – oh, if she knew!

“You can fill your first flute whenever you want, darling.” He said gently, keeping the glass under her throbbing hole.

“Have you ever seen Belle?” Cora asked, with no warning whatsoever. It was clear that seen Belle meant actually seen some private part of the girl, but her tone wasn't angry, not at all. It was clear she was just curious and, why not, also intrigued by what he might told her.

“I'd lie if I say no.” Robert confessed with the same grimace she had “But her shows were quite poor.”

“I'm better?” Cora chuckled, her fingers indulging on her folds, insinuating between her skin and the glass for a quick rub.

“Far better.” He nodded “You're perfect and mine.”

“Good.” She beamed, and after a little push on her center, she put both of her hands on the opening of the corset, unbuttoning it with a click. “Has she ever shown you this?” Cora asked, as the elastics and the whale's bones returned to their original form.

“You're so beautiful.” He murmured in awe, sliding the cloth off her torso to reveal a protruding round bulge right above her dark patch of hair.

Both of her hands went to cradle it, tasting its absolute fullness, her bladder about to burst any moment.

“I'm about to lose it.” She whispered behind clenched teeth.

“Then do it, my darling.” He smiled, fixing his eyes upon the flute.

At first there was another drop, which blended with the first at the bottom of the glass. Yellow and translucent liquid dancing in circles, just the smallest part of the flow that was inside of her. Then there was a small leaking and then a spurt.
A more consistent stream fell into the glass, a controlled one, which made Cora sweat with the effort.

“Do I have to stop?” Cora panted. She'd peed, but she felt like she'd released only a drop compared with what was storing inside her.

“Stop.” He confirmed, when the liquid was nearing the edge.
The stream got thinner, then transformed into spurts before stopping completely.

“I won't be able to keep it for long, now.” Cora whined, her hand immediately rubbing her center to plug the water in. She was wet and dribbling and now her whole body was claiming the full emptiness of her bladder.
Having to stop after ten seconds was a real torture. She felt like the brick inside of her had moved even lower in her abdomen.

“I'll be right back.” Robert assured, standing up and emptying the flute into a bucket, which he carried closed to the bed. “One.”

“It's too much.” She breathed, rocking on her bum as the waves hit her hard. “I'm leaking again.”

Robert brought the glass under her hand, capturing the drops that seeped through her fingers. She only moved her hand up few millimeters and the pee sloshed inside the glass.

“Two.” He counted as he emptied it into the bucket. The sound was hell's cry in Cora's ears. It was amazing, for her, how could she fight her own body like that, responding to each spasm with a clench of muscles and a rub of her sex, focusing her mind on the painful and delighted feeling on her bundle of nerves rather than the stinging sensation at the base of her hole.

Robert counted three, four, seven, then he reached ten and fifteen and still she had to go badly. She needed to rub her folds and shut her thighs every once in a while, trying to keep the remaining inside.

She massaged the tense skin on her lower abdomen, which got a little smaller, but it was still round and firm, resembling a balloon. Cora felt like she could go on peeing for ages.

“How about we switch roles?” Cora panted, stretching her wet hand toward him, showing her will to hold the empty glass herself. She was tired because of the continuous rubbing and her arm was starting to ache.

“Of course, my dear.” Robert nodded with a bright smile, carefully placing his bolder fingers to her hole, the back of his fingers so he could rub more gently against her.

Cora kept the edge of the glass close to her as she pressed her sex against the light caress of her husband, his other free hand stroking the roundness of her belly.

“I need to pee.” She told him, feeling like she'd repeated that same words forever and when he moved to her bundle of nerves, now swollen and pulsating, a golden stream rushed out of her into the flute.

“Stop.” He said and stole the glass from her hand to empty it, just to returned it to her a second later. “How do you feel?” He asked. He noticed that the rocking had reduced, while the spasms were more frequent.

“Better. I don't think there's much more inside, but-” She panted, pressing hard her middle on the back of his fingers, his thumb wet from its plugging directly to her hole. “but it's so difficult to keep it in.”

“Try to.” Robert said and from the way the words had come out, it was clear that he was smiling. Grinning actually. “If these are the last glasses-”

“They are.” She nodded vigorously, mimicking his expression. She was always down for new challenges.

“Hold it as much as you can, then.” Robert said and brought his other hand to join his first.
Like the first night, he placed his open hands on her womanhood, covering it completely, and then, gently, she forced her legs to spread wider. His thumbs trailed down from her protruding peak to her slit, stroking gently her dripping hole.
Her muscles were clenching desperately and delicious moans were filling his ears.
He put his thumbs to each side of her leaking opening and spread her gently, until the water started to come out on its own.

Cora's hands were shaking as she held the glass in place, collecting everything that was escaping her hopeless hold, her limbs convulsing, her heart galloping inside her chest for the effort.

“I can't stop this time!” She groaned, as the nineteenth flute couldn’t welcome its content and the water overflowed on the towel.

“Don't.” Robert removed his hands to catch the glass before she let it drop completely and emptied it into the bucket as she spread her legs wider, relaxing her thighs to let her bladder empty completely onto the towel.

He could have count up to twenty-two, maybe, with everything that was in the towel.

Cora pushed everything out before collapsing onto the pillow behind her, panting and sweating, chuckling because if someone would have seen her now, he would have thought she had just delivered a baby, but no, just her own pee.

“Magnificent, my darling.” Robert's sweet voice joined her content smile as she felt him moving around the room, collecting the towel and the bucket, bringing her nightgown and preparing the bed for the both of them. “Someone deserves a new dress.” He smiled.

“That sounds nice.” Cora agreed. Of course, it was something Violet had planned for a long time and she couldn't see a reason why they couldn't transform it into a more amusing trip than just a plain day of shopping.
It was such a warm thing to plan, as she drifted into slumber next to her husband.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Please leave a feedback ;) Thank you for reading!

 

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Why that was lovely! The strongest writers on this site have this quality where I can recognize who's telling the story even if I couldn't see the username, and you most assuredly rank among them; your stories have a bit of you in them.

In addition, I adore mass desperation. Individual desperation can explore a single character, but group desperation explores a character dynamic. That makes it a perfect fit for your stories, which are very character-driven.

And of course, as per usual your story was sensual and hot.

Edited by DerivativeWings (see edit history)
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3 hours ago, Miss Levinson said:

I'm truly sorry for the delay, but I've been terribly busy. Hope you like the update!
Thanks to @DerivativeWings for the inspiring idea!

A Proper Lady

Fandom: Downton Abbey
Characters: Cora, Robert, various
Setting: pre-serie (around 1890)
Warning for this chapter: desperation (+group desp), wetting.

Chapter 6 – Picnic Party

About an hour later, they arrived at the picnic party.

Robert had the bottle in his hand and as soon as he climbed down the carriage, he faked a stumble and dropped the bottle, which shattered into pieces instantly. A couple of scolds from his mother about his clumsiness were nothing, compared to the avoided disaster.

Cora on the other hand, still needed to pee. It was a constant thought that she could successfully push in the back of her mind, for the moment and she was only happy that she'd emptied her bladder – half of it, she feared – not enough to erase her discomfort completely, but enough for her to act normally. She'd endured much more with worse scenery, so she was confident she could survive the party without any trouble or very little ones.

That was what she thought, at least.

Mindful of her previous experience, she knew she couldn't ask where the loo was or her lady reputation would've been ruined – that Robert didn't know or never thought about it, so she needed to put on a straight face and survive the party as best as she could. Hopefully, they would stop at the pub on the way home, but at the worst, Cora was confident she could hold on until home.

She playfully scolded her husband too, who combed his hair with his hand, faking an embarrassed smile as his mouth cast apologies to his deaf mother.

“Try to behave yourself!” Violet concluded with a stern look before leaving with the Duchess, heading to a group of older lady nearby.

Of course, groups were already forming and Cora felt sick to the heart thinking she would've to go herself to meet with petulant girls about her age. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed to never be enough for them.

“You'll be alright, Cora?” Robert was whispering, concern all over his face. She thought he was cute.

“Of course I will.” She promptly replied, smiling sweetly. “You can go with your friends now.”

“It's a picnic darling.” He giggled, quite softened by her confused expression. Sometimes she really looked like a child and those are the occasion where Robert truly realized she was still new to their customs. Sure, in America they all had the same things, but they were done differently. “I'd like to stay with you, if you don't mind.” He winked, making her blush.

“Of course I don't mind.” She replied mildly, taking his arm.

They had done a little stroll before Cora's eyes caught a familiar silhouette standing alone by a tree. She squinted her eyes, tugging a little he husband's jacket to catch his attention too.

“Isn't that Myrtle?” Robert inquired. It was odd to find her there, by herself, pacing restlessly under a tree with her head down: since the first day they'd met her she had been the gleeful one, timid and shy, but joyful.. with Cora and Robert of course, since she was a simple girl who had married a noble, quite Cora and Robert's story to the eyes of the other girls.

“Myrtle?” Cora called her softly as soon as they got closer. Still, the blond hadn't noticed. When she heard her friend calling, she nearly jumped.
Her face was red and her lips parted; they could almost hear her heart thumping inside her chest, only slowing down at the realization of who she had before her.

“Cora, Robert!” She smiled, still, her voice was uneven. “You're here too!” and she attempted a clumsily hug. When she detached from Cora, she swallowed hard.

“What are you doing here by yourself? Where's Anthony?” Cora asked, leaving Robert alone so she could take Myrtle's arm instead. “Are you alright?”

“Oh I'm alright.” She nodded, but didn't look convinced at all “Anthony is sick, nothing serious, but he preferred to stay at home. I'm here with my mother in law, she's with the matrons of course.” She sighed “You know I don't like our lovely friends, Cora, they would mock me.”

“I know what you mean.” Cora agreed, well knowing the joy o being alone in a group of snobs. “But now there's two of us.”

“Yes, so they can mock us both.” Myrtle scoffed.

“Myrtle, that is so not like you.” Robert playfully replied “How do you know?”

“I know alright!” Myrtle spat, looking quite angry all of a sudden.

Cora and Robert exchanged a perplexed look.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Cora asked again.

“I'm really sorry-” Myrtle gasped, asking silently for forgiveness, looking directly at Robert “it's just-” the girl turned her head to Cora this time, blinking allusively “I really-”

“Robert, darling, be an angel. Would you fetch us some drinks?” Cora asked.

Robert frowned deeply, staring at them both. His wife would have never asked for drinks after that crazy carriage ride and he could bet she needed to visit the bathroom still. He cleared his throat and gave a nod, deciding it was about womanly things he couldn't understand.

“I really don't know what to do.” Myrtle whispered – a loud whisper – when they found themselves alone.

“About what?” Cora questioned. She was starting to think wildly: cheating, betrayals, finance problems, babies…

“I got myself into troubles.” Myrtle gasped sadly. Her eyes weren't for Cora though, for they were scanning the place searching for something or so it seemed.

“What kind of trouble, dear?” Cora asked again, following her into her nervous stroll, the smallest she'd ever seen: a couple of steps away from the tree and then back again. “I could help.”

“How could you?” She was smiling now but it was a sad one.

“Myrtle you're scaring me.” Cora said sincerely. “You're the only friend I've got, I want to help!” it was true. They only had each other in that mean world. They both knew that.

“I'm about to lose control of my bladder.” Myrtle mumbled, softly but clearly between her clenched teeth. He cheeks became the color of two ripe tomatoes.

“What?” Cora stuttered.

“I need to use the loo. Like right now.” the blond growled.

Only then Cora realized that her nervous stroll was only a masquerade for her potty-dance.

“Oh.” Cora sighed. She felt relieved for she was not the only one with that pressing need but also she felt sorry for her friend, not to mention that seeing her distress made her a little more desperate herself.

“My mother-in-law wants me to hold until the end of the party.” She gasped and crossed her ankles. “But I won't. I know I won't.”

Cora was speechless. Not only she completely understand what her friends was going through, now that she knew her needs, she could detect much clearer her problems and gestures, which were pretty obvious even to an unknown eye. That only meant that she needed to go, bad, way worse than her.

“Of course you will.” Cora said encouragingly, even though she doubt it: who better than her could identify those specific signs?

“My mother-in-law will think I'm some sort of peasant girl who can't control herself. I will never be a lady.” She lamented and her knees went weak for a moment.

Cora was starting to think that it was some sort of tradition or a tire of passage. She even thought of herself being mean to her son's wife if one day she'd had a son.

“We can do this, Myrtle, come on.” She cleared her throat, her friend's movements playing with her own brain. “I- kinda need to go too.”

“You do?” Myrtle asked, her eyes growing wide in surprise.

“I do.” Cora nodded.

“I wish I were Belle.” The blond chuckled, sighing heavily as she leaned against the trunk.

“Who?” Cora lifted her eyebrow, happy that the new subject could distract Myrtle and herself from their dances. After all, she really didn't know who was this Belle.

“Belle. She's well- you know.” Myrtle awkwardly gestured toward a group of laughing men. Most of them were young and they were loud, each one of them with a strong drink in his hand, to tell the truth, two: one full and one empty.

“Why is she here then?” She whispered. Cora was shocked: they all wanted ladies at their parties and yet they invited a.. seducer to their gatherings.

“She threatens everybody to speak. She has many partners you know. After all, she just wants to attend these parties and entertain the men.. those fools, they let her catch 'em like that.” Myrtle sighed, then shook her head “Parties for silence, sounds like a good compromise.”

“Well, what does she has to do with our problem?” Cora wondered.

“She's no lady!” Myrtle spat, matter-of-factly. Cora nodded, even if she didn't quite catch the meaning of all that. Right now she could only think about that she needed the loo, so everything was complicated for her focused brain.

“She can go whenever she wants?” Cora tried.

“Oh she does much worse.” Myrtle moaned a little, crossing her legs under her dress. Her eyes were squinted. “The boys stuff her with as many drinks as possible, then group around her and play. Making her wet herself right in the middle of the garden.”

“Why would they do that?” Cora was truly shocked.

“She is no lady but she doesn't want to walk around with a wet dress. There's a chance she might flash 'em.” She shook violently her head. Maybe those talks weren't what she needed after all. “Nobody judges her. Quite the contrary.” She hissed and there was a hint of envy in Myrtle's eyes.

Cora could understand. Not being judge and enjoy something like that. She wished she were Belle too! But she had to admit she had her fun in her bedroom with Robert and she could bet that was much better than what Belle offered.

“I must admit she's lucky.” Cora commented, beginning to swift on her spot for her bladder had started to fill up. With those talks and that view of Myrtle squirming to hold everything in.

“I thought I could find a solution.” Myrtle sobbed. “But I'm too scared.”

Suddenly, Cora realized what Myrtle wanted to do behind that tree and it was the worst idea she could have: she was too exposed.

“It's too dangerous, Myrtle and-”

“And-?”

“And they're coming over here.” Cora swallowed hard, trying her best to smile at the group of girls approaching, their chattering and high giggles ringing into her ears. They say her accent was awful but Cora found those chirping way more annoying.

“I'm sorry Sarah but the spot is occupied already.” the baroness smirked.

Cora well remembered her face, her voice, the hatred she felt when she had to endure through her first hold. That hideous girl seemed to be associated with that kind of problem way too much.. she smelled one girl's needs like a hunter dog!

Only seconds later she noticed that one of the baroness' group was red as a tomato, squirming and eying around with a preoccupied face.
She, the baroness and some other of her friends, seemed to doing great while Myrtle and this Sarah girl seemed in trouble. Doing good made Cora felt proud and confident.

“Is there something wrong, here?” She asked nonchalantly, almost neglecting Myrtle, who suddenly gripped to her arm. It looked like a normal gesture, but her nails were digging into Cora's flesh and the gloves didn't help a bit – she knew Myrtle was trying to better cope with her body and her spasming bladder, so she tried her best to act normal.

“Of course not!” Sarah spat, her cheeks growing purple.

“No.” The baroness repeated, but a diverted and mean smirk was painted upon her thin lips.

Sarah was a petite girl with red hair and a tiny waist, surely squeezed into a corset that had been pulled to its limits. Her green dress wrapped her slim body perfectly and the skirt was considerably less wider than the average, which didn't cover well the movements of her legs. She was shaking, rubbing her thighs and her hands were balling at her sides.

Cora swallowed hard. Now things would get interesting. Sarah, Myrtle… not to mention herself! Her bladder was extending, she could almost feel her skin stretching as her needs became more and more compelling. Having those two right before her eyes, knowing exactly what was the problem, was torturing her body.

“Well, I think we shall find my husband. He was about to bring us something to drink.” Cora said casually, searching with not precise aim into the crowd.

“Of course. He's there.” the baroness pointed her finger: Robert was approaching with two glasses and a large smile. “We'll wait for you here. We'll take tea together.”

Cora's heart dropped. She almost screamed when Myrtle dug her nails deeper into her skin. She felt a small spurt escaping her muscles and she clenched everything back.

Myrtle's stiff walk was an obvious warning of her needs, but she managed to stroll alongside Cora until they meet Robert.

“Here.” He said proudly, but his smile sunk when he noticed their faces and the baroness with her group of friends behind them. “Are they mocking you again?”

“No, they set us up.” Myrtle murmured, taking her cup filled with reddish liquid between her shaking hands.

“What do you mean? You need help?” Robert asked, throwing an eloquent glance at her wife. Cora shook her head.

“No, you go. We'll manage, somehow.” She smiled and sighed loudly. “I'm sorry Myrtle but we must drink this.”

“No, I can not.” the girl shook violently her head.

“We have no choice.” Cora sighed and gulped down the content of her glass, leaving just a few drops on the bottom.

Myrtle didn't reply and did the same.


Five minutes later, they were all sitting in a circle of cushions, under a white tent with a very short legged table in the middle of them. They were six: Cora, Myrtle, the baroness, Sarah and other two, twin sisters coming from Edinburgh to pay a visit to their relative.

It made Cora a little uneasy that everyone obviously knew about Myrtle and Sarah's need to pee. Nobody seemed to care about that, not that they could talk about it, of course, but what made Cora mad was the baroness, always daring them to drink more tea. She looked so willing to find out who would give up first.

And she didn't even know about her own need, thank God! Those were two fine English girl – even if Myrtle wasn't noble – she couldn't even imagine she would have done with her! Well, she did, actually, because now that the baroness was playing with those two, Cora couldn't help but notice that it was almost the same game she endured when she was the one suffering.

Cora sighed, pretending to sip from her cup which surprisingly hosted the same amount of liquid after every gulp. Fortunately, this time, the attentions weren't for her.

She could only feel sorry for Myrtle, now squirming impatiently, sometimes even closing her eyes, when the baroness offered more tea to Sarah and vice versa. Myrtle and Sarah were desperate. Everybody knew that and no one could do anything.

Cora, on the other hand, was distracted by her own impelling need: her bladder felt incredibly heavy and an odd warmness was spreading at her core. She wasn't sure it was a leaking of just sweat, because she felt generally hot and down there, her muscles were working hard to avoid the yearned release and also to fight her own bladder, which was spasming terribly, more and more often now, since it had its first, uncompleted relief.

She'd strategically sat down on the top of a small pyramid of three cushions, and placed herself right in the middle in a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. The third cushions was between her legs, its stuffed corner pointing upward, pressing rather annoyingly to her center; but it was helping and that was the only thing that mattered.

Cora stared with difficulty as her friends was forced to squirm like mad and gulp down cup after cup, until it was too late and her hand flew between her legs like it had its own will. Myrtle's face grew more red, like never before, and a soft giggling spread around the small group, starting from the baroness and ending with the twins. Sarah was gasping loudly, gripping to a cushion, refusing so hard to grip at her own crotch even if that was the only real thing she wanted to do and it was written all over her face.

“Looks like we've got a winner.” the baroness said proudly, but it was then that Cora noticed a darker shadow spreading near her. And the source of it was Sarah.
A squirming, red, mortified Sarah wiggling her legs and making a mess with the smaller cushions in front of them as she tried to stop the flow that gushed out from between her legs. At some point her knee bumped into the small table and knocked all the cups.

“Sarah!” the baroness screamed, jumping onto her feet, quickly mirrored by the twins.

“I- I can't stop!” Sarah whimpered and Cora stared at the poor girl with her wet dress. Her bladder was spasming and she had to focus to push back the will of grabbing herself to a corner of her head.

“You're such a disappointment!” the baroness scolded and left, chaperoned by the other two.

Sarah was left alone in her warm puddle, which kept growing in size as the girl stayed there, watching as her accident made itself more and more noticeable.
Cora felt sorry for her and Myrtle.. Myrtle almost didn't even noticed. Or she did and she was trying her best to control herself: all that tea and the sight of the relief right in front of her, she sound of the drops falling from the dress and hitting the carpet. Everything was torture. It was a torture for Cora, she couldn't imagine what it was for Myrtle.
Nevertheless, she wanted to end her friend's suffering. She wasn't like her, after all, she couldn’t possibly enjoy the feeling, since she'd been complaining since she first arrived. But now.. now they had an ally, right?

“Sarah, don't worry. You'll be fine.” Cora tried to sound comforting toward the girl, but Sarah kept staring at the void, also, her brow seemed to get increasingly wrinkled.

“Spare me.” She grunted. “Happy? You filthy peasant!” she screamed, this time she was talking to Myrtle, who rose two big, watery eyes as her lips were parted into a silent scream and both of her hands were buried down her crotch area.

“I didn't do anything!” Myrtle screamed back, her voice quivered.

“You didn't that's right! So I lost it!” Sarah whimpered, still angry “And now I lost the baroness' sympathy too!” She gasped and stood up with some difficulty. The front of her dress was completely soaked but she didn't seem to care a bit. “Go on and pee! You won!” She spat and ran away, trying to cover herself with her closed umbrella.

Cora watched the scene with shock on her face. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen nor heard.

“I'm losing it.” Myrtle whimpered loudly.

Cora nodded and tried to stand up. The heaviness on her bladder worked hard on her muscles and the brick she was storing inside dropped dangerously further down.
Se crossed her ankles under her dress and tried to act normal as she offered her friend a hand to stand as well.

Myrtle leaned almost completely on top of her and the extra weight made her silently whimper.

“Myrtle, if you don't want to end up like Sarah you must do something!” She warned. Oh how much she wanted to 'do something' herself!

“I must ask for the bathroom, I have no choice.” the girl sobbed, and pulled Cora – for as much as she could – toward a group of servant discussing the better way to serve the beverages.
 

Five minutes later – which seemed like hundreds for poor Myrtle – they were heading toward the bathrooms, escorted by a kind maid which swore not to talk to anyone about that inconvenience. Myrtle was walking oddly but no one could tell if it was for desperation or for a sore ankle, which was pretty good.

Cora envied her: she was past pride and past the consideration of what a proper lady had to do, she just went to ask where the loo was and now she was in there, few seconds away to let the river flow.

Cora was on the other side of the door, swinging slightly from one foot to the other, waiting patiently in the silence of a hollow corridor.
And then.. she heard it. The muffled sigh coming from Myrtle, the loud hissing, the powerful stream hitting the wall of the bowl, going on for ages.
It was too much to handle. Cora grabbed herself hard, through the dress as her other hand went to search through the folds of her skirts until it reached the inner one, the cottony fabric of her undergarments, open at her crotch area. She pushed her forefinger directly on her engorged pearl to transport her focus from her pulsating core to her throbbing skin and it worked for a moment. Then, stronger, it came back the sensation of a wave hitting the lower barrier of her bladder.
Her finger touched something wet and hot.
Cora slammed her thighs back together hard and removed her hand to avoid a more consistent leaking. Why touching herself didn't help her like always?

She stayed frozen for a minute or two, gasping hard and rubbing her knees together. Myrtle was still peeing, softly now, but still peeing.
Cora sighed and closed her eyes.

“Who's in there?!”

Cora shot her eyes open with her heart thumping in her throat. It wasn't a familiar voice and it scared the hell out of her. The damp feeling between her legs was a painful proof of that.

 “No one, ma'am.” Cora promptly answered.

“Don't play with me, child. I prayed it was you the weak soul who wanted to be a lady but isn't able but.. it's Myrtle. I knew it wasn't suitable for my son!”

Cora's heart started to run. She was sorry for Myrtle but.. what about her reputation too? She'd worked so hard with Violet and now Myrtle's mother-in-law was about to threaten everything?

“She really had no choice.” Cora murmured.

“Poor Sarah lost her battle but she fought!” The older woman pointed out. “Go now child. Your family is looking for you.” she sternly said. “Unfortunately for me, I know you didn't do anything wrong.”

Cora wasn't sure how to feel about that last sentence, but she was thankful that she was safe, at least. But.. what about poor Myrtle?

“Give her a second chance, will you?” Cora tried, swallowing hard at the muffled sobbing sound coming from behind the door.

“I said go.” the woman repeated.

“Go, Cora. I'll be fine.” Myrtle's voice sounded awful. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

Reluctantly, Cora left her friends alone. But happily she found out that Violet decided it was time to return home already. She didn't know the source of that miracle, but frankly she didn't care. Something about a mismatch between her mother-in-law and the duke, her husband had told her; but as long as it was something that could take her home and save her from embarrassment, Cora wasn't about to ask questions.
She would have written to Myrtle as soon as she got home.

“How are you, darling?” Robert asked preoccupied as soon as they got into the carriage.

“I'm surviving.” Cora chuckled, leaning her back to her seat so she could relax a bit more her tensed muscles.

“I saw you heading with Myrtle to the loo?” He inquired. There was some sort of hope in his eyes and the fact that he didn't want her to suffer to the point that he clearly hoped for a yes, despite everything that came with such an answer, really made her happy.

“Poor Myrtle had no choice. I stayed to guard but..” Cora sighed, chewing on her lip.

“But?”

“I didn't do a good job because she was being loud and she was making me more desperate and I closed my eyes and her mother-in-law caught us.” She shook her head and unintentionally crossed her legs.

“What did she say?” He asked alarmed.

“To me? Nothing. But poor Myrtle..” Cora sighed again, rubbing her hand on her lower abdomen. It was hard and even if she was applying the slightest pressure, she could definitely feel a burning sensation down to her hole. Her tensed skin screamed for release. She gasped.

“How bad is it?” Robert inquired.

“It's bad. Your drink dropped directly in my tummy and those sips of tea did wonders to my brain.” She sighed, slightly irritated.

“I figured it.” He said.

Cora only then noticed he was carrying the most malicious smile upon his face.

“You did?” She asked with a smirk, shifting a little on the seat and turning her torso toward her husband.

“I brought you a gift.” He nodded and, from the basket, he pulled out an empty flute for champagne.

“What's that for?” Cora asked confused, eying the shiny glass. Of course, they couldn't walk out of the carriage with a suspicious flute full of yellow liquid, nor they could toss its content out of the window.

“Don't worry, my dearest.” Robert chuckled, almost as he could read her mind. “It's for later.”
He hid the glass inside his jacket with a swift movement, the same smoothness Cora used to hid her hand between her legs, under her skirt, massaging mildly her dripping folds. Her muscles clenched, the sloshing ocean inside of her magically settling; she could tell he had something in mind and the thrill was overwhelming.
If that was a challenge, she accepted. She could definitely save her fullness for a later entertainment.
 

So there she was, shutting her eyes as she was trying to shut her muscles, all the while the carriage loped down the path. The way home seemed shorter, in a way, which amused her, how that feeling was the same in every journey and also delighted her, now, given the situation.
Thankfully, the Countess decided to have dinner in her room that night, claiming a terrible headache, which meant she would retire as soon as they'd crossed the front door.
They didn't see why they couldn't do the same.

Cora was rubbing her thighs together, in the hall, patiently waiting for her husband to explain that, given the big meal they both had during the party, they preferred not to eat at all. Both her maid and his valet seemed confused, trying more than once to suggest a light broth or a simple tea with toast. It goes without saying that at the thought of tea – or hot steaming broth, for the records – Cora's bladder boiled within her, sending a sharp wave of desperation down to her center.
She gasped lightly, covering her mouth with her gloved hand and faked a small yawn, at which both the member of the staff responded with a sympathetic glance. Maybe they'd finally convinced themselves?

“Oh and that would be all,” Robert added with a neutral smile “you're both dispensed for the night. See you tomorrow morning.”

Cora felt her cheek on fire at the implication. She hardly thought she could stay still while her maid took off her dress and unpin her hair and dress her for the night, but saying out that they would spend the night together was an entirely different matter.

“Goodnight milord, milady.” They both bowed and she replied with a timid goodbye.

“Robert you're-” She clenched her teeth, a new wave of desperation forcing her to double over.

“Forget it, I don't want to wait a second more.” He replied with enthusiasm, pushing on the handle and open the door for her, which locked behind his back half a second later.

“I don't think I can wait a second more.” Cora chuckled, though she was panting, still slightly bowed, now with her hand at her crotch, her wide dress with a cleft in the middle.

“That's what I thought.” He smiled back, walking next to her. “And it makes you so beautiful.” He added with a sigh.
At the low parlor light of the room, the warmness spreading from the mantel, she indeed was beautiful and her soft panting, her uneven dance, her attempting backing toward the bed to have some sort of support enhanced her beauty, at his eyes.

Cora giggled, the fullness in her body sinking lower and lower each tick of the clock.
She watched carefully her husband's moves as he removed his jacket and suspenders, leaving them hanging at his sides, and built a throne of pillows against the head of the bed; he removed the covers and rushed in the adjacent bathroom to retrieve some towels, which he folded and placed on the linens. Lastly, he put the flute on the bedside table and walked hurriedly at her side.

“You thought of everything, I see.” She beamed, drawing a small breath when she felt his fingers work on the laces of her dress until it finally came undone and roll off of her. Cora stepped out of it with no small difficulties, her hands finally touching her bare skin at her womanhood, hot and pulsating and screaming its release.

“I had some free time.” He replied with a chuckle and hurriedly looked for the corset.

“Leave it.” She said with a challenging tone. “The opening it's on the front, I'll manage. At the right time.” The corner of her mouth tilted deliciously up. “Now tell me what you'd like to do.”

“I just want to see how many flutes are in you.” Robert said with a playful tone.

“One at the time?” Cora asked. That implied that she needed to control her flow each time, and wait while he emptied the glass somewhere – perhaps on command too.

“How's that sounds?” He looked thrilled.

“Sounds challenging.” Cora nodded. “I like it.”

She walked stiffly to the bed, rubbing her feet against the carpet, fearing that one daring move would compromise her hold. Cora fell on top of the bed, which bounced vigorously under her weight, making her regret the decision of letting her body fall down loose end. The water inside of her sloshed unmerciful inside her bladder, stretching its walls in various ways.
Her slender fingers explored her folds and plugged the leaking hole, her thighs shut and her breathing irregular.

When she decided it was safe to move again, she shifted into the bed, settling her bum on the folded towel, and propped her back against the pillows.
She was shaking, her knees bent up as her hand rubbed her center, waiting for the right moment to remove it and let her husband free access to start their new game.

Robert gently sat to her side, his torso turned to her, her quivering legs in front of her and he started to rub her thigh, whispering encouraging words as he held the flute in his hand.

Cora smiled and tried to relax. She tilted her head back and slowly, very slowly, removed her hand, which was moist and hot, and closed it into a fist around the sheets.

“This is going to be very hard.” She panted, a grin spreading across her face as she carefully parted her knees from each other.
She clenched harder her inner muscles, trying to mimic the procedure with her jaw; small sparkles of sweat adorning her forehead as she spread her legs wide for him, leaving him to look freely at her pulsating womanhood, her muscles contracting to keep everything inside.

Cora couldn't stay still and her hips rolled on their own, yet she was determined in keeping her thighs wide open. She was contorting, but from her waist up.

“Hold it?” Robert proposed and she just nodded. His hands moved from the outside of her thigh to the inner part of it. The crotch open underwear framing the divine vision before him.

A glimpse of water peeked through her stretched folds and he hurriedly put the flute against the leaking. It was a single drop, which caused a long moan to escape Cora's lip, but it remained alone and it slid to the bottom of the glass in no time.

“Not yet.” Cora murmured, her hand balling to her side and settling to the bump of her bladder. It was small, squished inside the corset, but she knew it would have been much bigger without any clothes on – oh, if she knew!

“You can fill your first flute whenever you want, darling.” He said gently, keeping the glass under her throbbing hole.

“Have you ever seen Belle?” Cora asked, with no warning whatsoever. It was clear that seen Belle meant actually seen some private part of the girl, but her tone wasn't angry, not at all. It was clear she was just curious and, why not, also intrigued by what he might told her.

“I'd lie if I say no.” Robert confessed with the same grimace she had “But her shows were quite poor.”

“I'm better?” Cora chuckled, her fingers indulging on her folds, insinuating between her skin and the glass for a quick rub.

“Far better.” He nodded “You're perfect and mine.”

“Good.” She beamed, and after a little push on her center, she put both of her hands on the opening of the corset, unbuttoning it with a click. “Has she ever shown you this?” Cora asked, as the elastics and the whale's bones returned to their original form.

“You're so beautiful.” He murmured in awe, sliding the cloth off her torso to reveal a protruding round bulge right above her dark patch of hair.

Both of her hands went to cradle it, tasting its absolute fullness, her bladder about to burst any moment.

“I'm about to lose it.” She whispered behind clenched teeth.

“Then do it, my darling.” He smiled, fixing his eyes upon the flute.

At first there was another drop, which blended with the first at the bottom of the glass. Yellow and translucent liquid dancing in circles, just the smallest part of the flow that was inside of her. Then there was a small leaking and then a spurt.
A more consistent stream fell into the glass, a controlled one, which made Cora sweat with the effort.

“Do I have to stop?” Cora panted. She'd peed, but she felt like she'd released only a drop compared with what was storing inside her.

“Stop.” He confirmed, when the liquid was nearing the edge.
The stream got thinner, then transformed into spurts before stopping completely.

“I won't be able to keep it for long, now.” Cora whined, her hand immediately rubbing her center to plug the water in. She was wet and dribbling and now her whole body was claiming the full emptiness of her bladder.
Having to stop after ten seconds was a real torture. She felt like the brick inside of her had moved even lower in her abdomen.

“I'll be right back.” Robert assured, standing up and emptying the flute into a bucket, which he carried closed to the bed. “One.”

“It's too much.” She breathed, rocking on her bum as the waves hit her hard. “I'm leaking again.”

Robert brought the glass under her hand, capturing the drops that seeped through her fingers. She only moved her hand up few millimeters and the pee sloshed inside the glass.

“Two.” He counted as he emptied it into the bucket. The sound was hell's cry in Cora's ears. It was amazing, for her, how could she fight her own body like that, responding to each spasm with a clench of muscles and a rub of her sex, focusing her mind on the painful and delighted feeling on her bundle of nerves rather than the stinging sensation at the base of her hole.

Robert counted three, four, seven, then he reached ten and fifteen and still she had to go badly. She needed to rub her folds and shut her thighs every once in a while, trying to keep the remaining inside.

She massaged the tense skin on her lower abdomen, which got a little smaller, but it was still round and firm, resembling a balloon. Cora felt like she could go on peeing for ages.

“How about we switch roles?” Cora panted, stretching her wet hand toward him, showing her will to hold the empty glass herself. She was tired because of the continuous rubbing and her arm was starting to ache.

“Of course, my dear.” Robert nodded with a bright smile, carefully placing his bolder fingers to her hole, the back of his fingers so he could rub more gently against her.

Cora kept the edge of the glass close to her as she pressed her sex against the light caress of her husband, his other free hand stroking the roundness of her belly.

“I need to pee.” She told him, feeling like she'd repeated that same words forever and when he moved to her bundle of nerves, now swollen and pulsating, a golden stream rushed out of her into the flute.

“Stop.” He said and stole the glass from her hand to empty it, just to returned it to her a second later. “How do you feel?” He asked. He noticed that the rocking had reduced, while the spasms were more frequent.

“Better. I don't think there's much more inside, but-” She panted, pressing hard her middle on the back of his fingers, his thumb wet from its plugging directly to her hole. “but it's so difficult to keep it in.”

“Try to.” Robert said and from the way the words had come out, it was clear that he was smiling. Grinning actually. “If these are the last glasses-”

“They are.” She nodded vigorously, mimicking his expression. She was always down for new challenges.

“Hold it as much as you can, then.” Robert said and brought his other hand to join his first.
Like the first night, he placed his open hands on her womanhood, covering it completely, and then, gently, she forced her legs to spread wider. His thumbs trailed down from her protruding peak to her slit, stroking gently her dripping hole.
Her muscles were clenching desperately and delicious moans were filling his ears.
He put his thumbs to each side of her leaking opening and spread her gently, until the water started to come out on its own.

Cora's hands were shaking as she held the glass in place, collecting everything that was escaping her hopeless hold, her limbs convulsing, her heart galloping inside her chest for the effort.

“I can't stop this time!” She groaned, as the nineteenth flute couldn’t welcome its content and the water overflowed on the towel.

“Don't.” Robert removed his hands to catch the glass before she let it drop completely and emptied it into the bucket as she spread her legs wider, relaxing her thighs to let her bladder empty completely onto the towel.

He could have count up to twenty-two, maybe, with everything that was in the towel.

Cora pushed everything out before collapsing onto the pillow behind her, panting and sweating, chuckling because if someone would have seen her now, he would have thought she had just delivered a baby, but no, just her own pee.

“Magnificent, my darling.” Robert's sweet voice joined her content smile as she felt him moving around the room, collecting the towel and the bucket, bringing her nightgown and preparing the bed for the both of them. “Someone deserves a new dress.” He smiled.

“That sounds nice.” Cora agreed. Of course, it was something Violet had planned for a long time and she couldn't see a reason why they couldn't transform it into a more amusing trip than just a plain day of shopping.
It was such a warm thing to plan, as she drifted into slumber next to her husband.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Please leave a feedback ;) Thank you for reading!

 

Absolutely wonderful. Love your stories!

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19 hours ago, Bellatrix1 said:

That was a great chapter I can't wait to read more 

Thank you so much!  I hope to write more soon!

18 hours ago, DerivativeWings said:

Why that was lovely! The strongest writers on this site have this quality where I can recognize who's telling the story even if I couldn't see the username, and you most assuredly rank among them; your stories have a bit of you in them.

In addition, I adore mass desperation. Individual desperation can explore a single character, but group desperation explores a character dynamic. That makes it a perfect fit for your stories, which are very character-driven.

And of course, as per usual your story was sensual and hot.

My, I'm honored! It's the best thing you could ever say to me, so..thank you from the bottom of my heart! I think I'll write more about groups in the future because it was really thrilling, even for me ;) maybe not in the very next chapter, but soon!

16 hours ago, LOLC2k said:

Absolutely wonderful. Love your stories!

Thank you so much! See ya soon!

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  • 1 year later...

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