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Tiny Stories and Poems (of Desperation!)


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It's about time I actually posted something here I guess! Here are a few scribbles I wrote while on the train the other day~ --   The Idol -  Piss frothed painfully in her distende

"May I go to the bathroom?" Brissa Reichenbacher asked as she stood up from the desk, assuming the affirmative. "Absolutely not," the teacher replied. "I thought I made myself clear. No one may l

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  • 1 month later...

Wait to Be Excused (male and female bladder desperation)

The royal banquet was an eminent affair and the very pinnacle of etiquette was expected.  Nearly everyone in the room was suffering for this.

No guest or servant could take their leave until Her Royal Highness gave the word.  The lovely queen had slowly and daintily worked her way though many courses of the sumptuous meal and was nowhere near the end of it.  By this time everyone else at the table had full stomachs and full bladders.

The servants went about their tasks quickly and awkwardly, unable to sit still or focus completely on their work.  No one had noticed yet, but one young lady had slipped out the door without permission.  She knew she would receive severe punishment, but it was preferable to the humiliation of wetting her frock in the presence of royalty.

The queen's bodyguards were mighty men of good breeding, but they did no better than the lowly servant girls at hiding their discomfort.  Each hoped the other would embarrass himself first.

One of the honored guests was a knight, and he looked as dignified as ever.  One would never guess the excruciating pain in his loins and heart-rending dilemma in his mind.  Would it be more dishonorable to trot off to the privy unexcused or to sit there stoically until he made a puddle in the royal dining hall?

The other honored guest was a visiting duchess.  She'd been brought up in much the same way as the queen, but there were a few important differences in local customs.  Her heart sank when she realized the use of chamber pots was forbidden in the royal dining hall.  She was thankful for her large puffy dress because it hid her tightly crossed legs and might soon hide a yellow-stained petticoat.

The handmaidens could read their mistress' body language and were more worried about her honor than their own.  One was wondering if there was a way to discreetly sneak a chamber pot under her lady's dress.  The other was wondering if she should speak out of turn and suffer the consequences to save her mistress from having to do so herself.

The king had given up hope that his queen could read body language.  He was trying to devise the least blatant way of calling her attention to the fact that everyone in the room was longing to take their leave.  He needed to work this out quickly because he was already feeling unwelcome warmth in his trousers.

The queen was enjoying herself immensely and naïvely assumed everyone else was as well.  Being born into the highest eschelon of the most custom-bound kingdom in the land she had been schooled in proper etiquette since infancy and held to strict standards throughout her life.  She knew how to manage her bodily functions appropriately and she knew it was improper to speak or think much about how other people were managing their own.  Her refined royal bladder was holding more than any other bladder in the room and she hadn't the faintest clue it was too much for anyone else to handle.

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10 hours ago, Jimmy Olsen said:

Danique waited for the feeling to pass.  She hoped she really just had a serious need, not an urgent need.  It wasn't getting any better, though.  Maybe the pressure was mostly gas, however, and she'd be able to hold onto her mess and maintain her dignity if she just let a little bit escape.  There was only one way to find out...

Danique definitely crapped her PJ’s in her boyfriends bed.

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1 hour ago, Alex Oxford said:

Danique definitely crapped her PJ’s in her boyfriends bed.

Yeah, I kind of screwed up the whole "holding with no end in sight" premise.

Incidentally the story was inspired by a cute pic of a lovely blonde soiling her pink pyjamas.  I had to delete the part about Danique's pyjamas, however, because I remembered she wasn't planning to stay the night.

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10 hours ago, Jimmy Olsen said:

Yeah, I kind of screwed up the whole "holding with no end in sight" premise.

Incidentally the story was inspired by a cute pic of a lovely blonde soiling her pink pyjamas.  I had to delete the part about Danique's pyjamas, however, because I remembered she wasn't planning to stay the night.

Lol I’m not mad about that! If anything, I’m more curious about how she’s going to explain herself. That’s gonna be an awkward conversation hehehe. I love it amigo, keep up the good work!

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  • 2 weeks later...

She was part of a race that was physically incapable of peeing without using a special kind of toilet designed for them. After spending all day gardening in the hot sun and staying hydrated at the flower shop she worked at, she was absolutely desperate for a piss by the time she got home. Her bladder jutted out from her in sheer compressed volume, filled with the liquid that couldn’t stand being in there for even a second. But she got a call earlier that her pipes were broken due to a ‘group of people using her toilet at a party.’ She knew she didn’t throw a party, all of that liquid was hers over the past week of this heat wave. She passed by the toilet room longingly, as she felt her tightly packed, burstingly full, pee balloon shake in excitement. She bent over and gathered herself for a few seconds, before going to bed.

for the next week, her bladder would continue filling at the rate of ten people’s liquid intakes a day, and since it had nowhere to go, it would just squeeze in with everything else, getting compacted and compressed into place. Every time she got home and looked at her broken toilet, her densely packed, impossibly full, practically solid piss tank would explode with emotion, throb in agony, and send as many signals to her brain forcing her to release the pee as it could. The poor woman received every signal, but was biologically incapable of releasing anything.

When she finally got the call that her plumbing was fixed, her bladder knew, and acted as if it was inches away from a toilet for the rest of the day. She got stronger signals than ever, earthquake level trembling, desperation waves that could rival a nuclear blast, and pressure from the center of the earth all acting on her hydraulic press of a bladder for every second of her entire twelve hour shift.

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  • 1 month later...
  • 2 months later...

Corona Roadtrip 

Leah, a 22 year old university student, was going from Seattle to Miami, where her family lives, just as the Corona Lockdown started. Not realizing every bathroom on her trip would be closed, Leah drank a Trenta Coffee from Starbucks right before she started her trip. 

Hours and hours went by, Leahs desperation rising with every passing minute, but her, having always been proud to be able to behave like a a "proper lady", wouldn't even consider peeing in a bottle, a bush or wherever she could find relief. Leah was determined to hold it, no matter how long she had to.

As night fell she passed the last Gas Station before the Great Plains, that had the same sign out as every other Gas Station she already passed on her trip: "Only Gas, Toilets closed. Stay safe!". "No, please", Leah whimpered pitiful under her breath, "I have to pee so bad, I can't...", knowing, that she would have to hold it for all of her trip, until she would arrive in Miami two days later. And so her drive continued, Leah squirming and whimpering, her bladder bulging out, but determined to hold in every last drop, just as a proper lady should do. It was going to be a long, desperate drive for poor Leah...

I hope you liked the story, I always thought Corona would be a great scenario, especially for this thread. 

Greetings from Germany to all Omo Friends around the world! Stay safe, stay healthy, stay kinky! 

L.

 

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  • 1 month later...

Deposit Waste Here (female bowel desperation)

"We've known each other for a long time," said the willowy young woman in the lab coat, "and I have a great respect for you.  You know this."

The robust young woman in the paper gown blew the stray blond hair out of her face.  She wasn't going to dignify that statement with a response.

"I would never physically restrain you," the raven-haired woman began as she gestured to the chains binding the golden-haired woman in place, "or subject you to indignity," she continued as she gestured to the bizarre contraption underneath the blonde's body, "unless I knew it was for your own good."

The bound woman flexed her muscles against the manacles and shot her captor a fierce look.  The white-clad woman was unfazed by this display.

"I, like the rest of the world, am grateful for your hard work and sacrifice in defeating the extraterrestrial threat and ingesting its living core, but it is absolutely imperative that you deposit the remains of this dangerous entity in a secure location where they can be safely contained and ideally destroyed."

"No!" yelled the bare-bottomed woman who was forcibly seated on the advanced containment unit.  "I'm the Earth's mightiest defender!  Nobody tells me when or where I do my business, and nobody watches me do it!"

The woman in the lab coat lost her cool.  "Defecate, you incorrigible abomination!"

"Absolutely not!  I'm going to sit here until you unchain me, and I'm not going to go.  I mean, I'm going to go out of this room when I can, but I'm not going to go go."

"I'm going to sit here at my desk until your waste is voided in full.  We'll see who lasts longer."

No people in the laboratory were moving anytime soon, nor were any bowels.

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  • 5 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...

An extraordinary woman was hanging around the bedroom of an ordinary man. She was literally hanging in midair, tumbling over and over through the empty space of the room as her body squirmed and her legs squeezed together. She was incredibly powerful, but knew she looked pathetic with her silken skirts bunched up at her crotch and her swollen bladder bulging out of her exposed midriff. Despite her great powers, she was subject to the calls of nature. More importantly, she was subject to the desires of whoever found her enchanted bottle. The lucky recipient of the artifact had told his newfound servant not to leave his room until he came back. This place was nothing like ancient Baghdad, and she was likely to get into trouble if she went wandering around. Neither of them had thought of the trouble that could arise from her being confined to a place without any sanitary facilities. The only thing in this room she could possibly use as a receptacle was the very bottle she from which she'd come. She hated the idea of disgracing her home in such a way, and the thought of being ordered back into the bottle before it was emptied was enough to make her scrunch up her lovely face in disgust. Her master might be home any minute to release her and facilitate her relief. Or he might be away for hours more. He'd be immensely displeased to find a foul-smelling puddle on his carpet. The sprightly woman floated down to the floor and eyed the antique bottle with conflicted feelings.

Edited by Jimmy Olsen (see edit history)
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  • 3 months later...
  • 8 months later...

Heroes in Hiding (male and female bladder desperation)

It might be the party's last adventure. They were hiding in the rotted-out trunk of a giant fallen tree as their enemies searched the woods around them. 

There were 5 of  them: a proud paladin, a headstrong lancer, a callow squire, a feral scout, and a brutish fighter. They were hopelessly outnumbered, but just might survive if they lay low until the multitude of men and beasts moved on. They mustn't make any movements, any sounds, or any smells. 

As time passed those rules became exceedingly difficult to follow. Their muscles were cramped, their lungs were stifled, their stomachs were empty, and their bladders were full. Their nerves were on edge as their ears frequently picked up the shouting voices of soldiers, the clopping hooves of warhorses, and the snorting snouts of scentswine. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but there was nothing to look at besides each other.

The scout was so still that only the regular blinking of her wild eyes showed that she was alive. She possessed the keen senses and survival instincts of an animal, though perhaps not the sanity of a human being. None of her compatriots seemed capable of her level of stealth in these circumstances. They'd done fairly well early on, with the paladin chastened their lapses of silence with light taps from her sword, but their discipline had gradually deteriorated. Despite her normally excellent carriage and self-control the paladin was now slowly drawing her knees together and apart and shifting her upper body back and forth. The hulking fighter had a similar but much faster pattern of squirming, and his giant powerful hands were constantly gripping and kneading his manhood. The minute yet incessant trembling of the squire's scrawny legs was only interrupted by his gangly body's periodic fits of shuddering.

The lancer was having the worst time. His roguish smile and cocky bearing always disappeared when he found himself in a confined space or was forced to remain motionless for any length of time, and both of those were now happening at the same time with no sign of coming relief. This anxiety made his urinary situation all the more unbearable. He was breathing too fast, and every part of his body was moving regularly, often noisily. The paladin had used her sword to gently remind him to be silently motionless, but no more than the other 3 offenders. As usual she gave the lancer more leeway than anyone else. 

When the lancer accidentally slammed the metal toe of his boot into the scout's shin, the sinewy young woman came to life and broke her long silence. "If you don't learn to sit still I'm gonna show you what real pain feels like," she quietly hissed. "I've learned terrible things I can do to the human body without drawing blood or making noise. Trust me, it'll hurt a lot worse than holding your piss in."

"We've got to do something," the lancer said in a nervous quivering whisper directed at the entire party. "We've been in here 4 hours."

"I believe it's closer to 3," the paladin gently corrected.

"Well it's a long time. How much longer do we have to keep this up?"

"For as long as they're looking for us here," the scout snapped. "You know that."

"But how long does it take to search a forest?"

"I don't know that. They could give up any minute now, or the hunt could only be half over."

The lancer's whisper broke into his normal speaking voice. "Another 4 hours? That's impossible!"

"Be quiet," the scout said between gritted teeth. "I can't believe anybody with the training and experience you brag about could be this suicidally moronic. You're as bad as the squire."

"Hey!" complained a teenage voice from the other side of the trunk.

"I wouldn't say an 8 hour search is impossible," the paladin said in a soft yet stern tone. "The earl is obsessed with tracking us down. We must steel ourselves for a lengthy ordeal."

"I mean it's impossible for us," said the lancer as he continued to fidget.

This was when the fighter broke in. "If we just aim for that soft spot in the middle of the ground it'll soak up and there'll be no harm."

The scout's face looked as though she would scream with aggravation, but she kept to a whisper. "I told you before. I told all of you. Piss smells a thousand times as strong as blood, and we all know how good scentswine are at tracking a bleeder."

The barbarian swallowed nervously as he remembered the grisly end of their 6th party member.

The paladin tried again to boost the party's resolve. "We're disciplined and steadfast pathfinders," she said, and then looked around her motley company. "More or less. Our souls and bodies have been tested before, and we've always prevailed."

There were nods, faint smiles, and even some looks of pride in the eyes of the long-suffering wayfarers. Silence had returned to the hollow tree, and there seemed to be a newfound confidence all around. Then the brute stumbled back into his previous argument.

"I've seen those pigs in action. They're peeing all the time. How are they gonna tell our pee from their own?"

The scout's throat gargled with a bestial anger as her mouth began to spit out a sentence. "Of all the ignorant, idiotic, mule-headed..."

"Enough!" barked the paladin, now annoyed to the point of forgetting her whisper. "If our survival expert says we all need to...refrain from...easing ourselves, well, that's just what we'll do." The genteel lady was embarrassed to so much as mention the subject of urination even though it was on everyone's mind.

"I think..." the squire began.

"We can't do this much longer," interrupted the lancer, who had stood up and started to pace around the dark enclosure. "It's humanly impossible."

"Excuse me," squeaked the squire.

"He's right," bellowed the brute. "Even with my strength I'm just about peeing my pants right now. Think how the frail loins of the women are doing."

"We really should..." the squire began.

The scout raised her voice in rage. "It's humanly possible for me, and you're gonna make it humanly possible for you! All of you! If I smell the slightest scent of piss, if I hear the tiniest trickle coming out of any one of you, I'm gonna find the source and bite down as hard as I can!" She had no intention of carrying out that threat, but it could be just the motivation her unruly cohorts needed to control their bladders. For once their fears that she was insane would come in handy.

"I think we should..." started the squire.

"What?!?" the scout snarled in his face.

"Excuse me, sorry, but the scentswine...well, they have ears. Not just noses. I think we ought to be quiet."

"How do you like that? The kid's got more sense than the lot of us." She gave the squire a reassuring pat on the head. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm still gonna bite off your pecker if it leaks, though."

"Brave hearts, everyone," the paladin whispered, and she looked her comrades in the eye one by one as if to channel strength into their minds. Instead of just a reassuring look, she treated the lancer to a surprisingly cozy hug, which calmed his nerves considerably. Then all the voices ceased as the 5 adventurers settled in the for the long haul.

The scout was like a stern stone statue. The party didn't know she was having as much trouble holding as the rest of them. She'd keep her weakness hidden to the bitter end.

Edited by Jimmy Olsen (see edit history)
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  • 1 year later...
On 11/12/2018 at 5:20 PM, Quackduck said:

Alone a stormy winter's night
in her bed, a young girl's fright
Keeps her staying in her bed
The rain and thunder gives her dread

She pulls the covers up real high
As lightning strikes the ground outside
But she must leave eventually
Her bladder had filled exponentially

She tossed and turned, she squeezed and jerked
But nothing she did would ever work
She needed to pee, she needed to NOW
But to leave her bed she'd not allow

Though the urine that built up inside her was great
Her fear of the storm would never break
But the pattering rain against the house
Was making her almost wet her blouse

After hours and hours of tossing and turning
While her body, for the toilet, was yearning
She finally sat up and said "I've got to wee!"
Then she ran to the bathroom, exploding with pee

When she got to the door, she was horrified
The bathroom was locked- She hoped she'd stay dry!
She was dancing and squeezing and hopping around
"Hurry up! Hurry up! It's going to come out!"

When her sister had finally opened the door
She raced in and sat down to empty her poor
Bladder, which begged her to open the gates
And when she did, the relief was great

Atop her porcelain throne which she sat
She exploded the urine that she had amassed
For almost two minutes she sat there with glee
After waiting so long, she had finally peed

Awesome! Love how this scenario is so original! ❤️

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On 11/15/2018 at 2:58 PM, SpinnySquirms said:

It's about time I actually posted something here I guess! Here are a few scribbles I wrote while on the train the other day~

--

 

The Idol - 

Piss frothed painfully in her distended bladder. She was a gorgeous pop star, in the prime of her career and her talent. Her voice made everyone melt, she was beyond gorgeous; with her tight ass, her firm breasts, her curvaceous body... She was the envy and lustful daydream of anyone who saw her.

Yet now she was nursing a third curve, a deadly time bomb within her lower midsection. It was a bursting load of hot piss, withheld for several days already as her world tour wore on and on and on. Endlessly torturing her and her quivering, tightly crossed legs. In the dressing room before the biggest show of them all, she begged for a break, tear brimmed in her eyes, but they were already behind schedule!

Oh fuck, whose idea was it to travel the entire globe in such a short time! They had left no space for bathroom breaks! There was no way she could protest, of course... because a true idol can always contain her waters. No matter how great the ocean becomes. Behind her clenched pussy, her quivering labia, her bladder walls quaked. As her back teeth began to float, she realised it was going to be a long few months.

 

The Dragon's Gold -

Every dragon has a hoard, but not every hoard of gold is the same. It had been centuries since she had stirred, since she had tended to her hoard, to her building, high pressure, ocean of perfect gold. The mighty dragon grunted and clenched, her hind legs together, her pussy as huge as an elephant was quivering with urgency, and her gargantuan, distended bladder held enough golden water to drown a small continent. Every couple of hundred years she would rise, she would swallow a lake, a third of an ocean, a thousand gallons in one gulp… then she would return to her sleep.

She would never piss. She could never piss. For tens of thousands of years she had held, and yet it would never be enough. There have been thousands of heroes who had tried to break her. Who had supplied her with diuretics beyond belief, or potions designed to double the urine within her over and over for all eternity. She endured it all, as her bladder swelled. Though she was small for a dragon, she knew she could make up for it with her control. Though she was only the size of a football field... she held within her a universe of piss. One that she would never release. A hoard of gold that would remain for millennia, she would squirm, hold her crotch and grunt… she would hold it. Eternally. It was her legacy.

 

Eternal Life -

One hundred percent of people who have pissed when their bladder is full, have ended up growing old. It was a dark cult that worked out the secret to eternal life was simply to hold it in for good.

Those beautiful women. Forever young. Forever solemn and teary eyed. Forever nursing a distended bladder and a twitching piss hole. Eternity has just begun, but they’re going to explode.

 

Queuing -

There was a queue for the only bathroom around, a prison sentence for those who lost it in their pants, and no privacy to release anywhere else. It was simple really, the toilet opens once every hour, and one person can enter. One person can piss. One person can leave, and often not having fully emptied themselves due to the thirty second pissing time limit.

It has been all day waiting in the ponderous line, and Emily is seeing stars in the daytime. She is humping her hands for any small amount of extra control she can gain. She’s set to burst, bladder stretched tight, she can’t remember the last time it was emptied. When the day ends she is only one person away from her release, but the toilet is closed for the night. The woman who locks it has chains on her pants, and a grotesquely swollen bladder. She looks at Emily with sympathy... She can try again tomorrow. But tomorrow she’s going to be at the back of the line again.

 

A Princess Must be Pure - 

There once was a Princess who refused to piss during her stay in a cell. She had been kidnapped and contained for days, and the jailers knew her bladder was full. They wanted to see her shame herself, they wanted to watch and laugh as that distended piss bump burst. The Princess had to refuse them. Her only source of relief was a dirty, horrible hole in the ground, and not worthy of a lady’s release. It smelled of a sewer... Nothing so foul smelling should ever come to close to a princess’ private parts. So she held it and waited to be saved, despite her demanded gallon of daily fluid intake, she held it like a strong and ladylike maiden should. She kept herself clean and pure.

Once two weeks had passed and she was saved, she tried not to weep yellow tears as the brave knight brought her home, squeezing her bladder as he did. She excused herself, composed as ever till the very end, to visit her room for some rest. Yet once she squatted over her privy, she realised… the piss within her distended bladder had fermented so long, it was a frothing dark orange in hue, and it stank so strongly of ammonia that it made her dizzy when just one drip was allowed release. Now that the piss itself was filthy, was vile smelling and fetid, she could not allow it to desecrate her pure and sacred womanhood.

Resolute in this decision, she grimly stood from the chamber pot and returned her panties and dress to their public positions. She left her room to greet the masses. Knowing she can never piss again now.

A single tear is all that remains on her chamber pot, which now lays in the garbage heap.

 

--

That's all for now! I've loved all the contributions so far, thanks so much! ❤️

Also, if anyone wanted to write any poop desperation stories, feel free! Just hide them under a spoiler so as not to put off anyone who isn't interested!

Thank you all! ❤️

- Lapiss

This is probably the finest collection of short stories on this site! Love them! ❤️ 

That said, this was a TERRIFIC idea! I agree, sometimes long lengthy stories are just too long to read. Sometimes short is best. Especially the ones without an ending.

It doesn’t feel right if there is no relief at the end. But it is also kinda cool. I also love when the characters hold longer than actually possible! I might post a few short stories here one day!

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Prisoners Don’t Pee

Scarlett, Bessie, and Robin had their mug shots taken, their thumbs stamped, and were placed into prisoner outfits. The trio were forced into their jail cell where they would spend the next twenty years of their prison sentence. The first thing that the trio of criminal ladies - who have spent a lot of time in jail - noticed, was that there was no toilet in their cell. This possessed as a problem. The criminals had just been stuck on a boat for the past six hours on their way to this remote island. That, and all the margaritas they stole had made their bladders frantic for the toilet. Even a hole in the ground would have done nicely. But alas, none existed in this cell.

Two police officers, male and female, entered the cell. They gave the criminals nasty looks. This was the ninth time they were caught and sentenced to prison. The criminals usually managed to find a way out, but none existed this time. After countless law breaking, Scarlett, Bessie, and Robin knew they were in for it now.

When asking the police officers where the toilet was, the police just smiled at one another and smiled at the crossing legs and looks of desperation all three criminals gave them.

“I am afraid this is your punishment now,” the policeman said.

“What are you talking about?” Bessie demanded with her legs crossed and many nasty words to describe this man flew through her mind.

“You three have stolen countless cars, wallets, jewelry, and appliances,” the policewoman went on. “You have even killed an innocent child.”

“That child had it coming,” shouted Robin, jabbing her hand into her crotch. “Now where is the damn toilet! We gotta piss!”

The police smiled at one another again and looked back at the trio.

“Oh, we know,” the man assured them. He ordered them to take off their pants. They hesitated at first, but did. “You three have hurt so many, time and time again. This time, we are cracking down hard! This is your punishment,” the policeman said. “You three shall never pee again.”

“For the next twenty years,” the policewoman went on. “You three must stay here, feeling your bladders get bigger and bigger and bigger. Suffering with the massive amount of pressure, waiting relief, bladder aching. But stuck to hold it.”

“Yo, idiots!” Scarlett called. “What exactly makes us hold it in? You took away our potty? Boo, hoo. I mean, we have no issue pissing on this floor!”

“Oh, but you won’t,” the policeman said. The policewoman grabbed all three prisoners in turn and bent them over. The policeman used his thumb and jabbed a small pink object directly up each ladies’ pee hole. “These are plugs,” the policeman said. “Urethral plugs.”

“You cannot pee with them on,” the policewoman went on. “No matter how bad you want to… Not a single drop may exit those swollen pee pouches you ladies are carrying around. Those plugs have codes on them so they may only be removed with our hands. You three are stuck. Unable to take them out, unable to pee.”

“That is the way it will work for the rest of your twenty year sentence,” the policeman said.

The policewoman gave a fake, sympathetic frown. “Maybe you ladies will think twice about committing crime again.”

With that, the police left, leaving behind three very confused prisoners.

The days went by. Each day seemed longer than the last. Scarlett, Bessie, and Robin were now supporting three large bulges in front of them. Most days, their bulges were so big, they couldn’t even stand. They just lay around, grabbing themselves and moaning. They began using chalk to check off the days as most prisoners do. But Scarlett, Bessie, and Robin had it worse than ‘most prisoners’. These three ladies were unallowed to pee for the next twenty years. But that police lady was right.

They would never commit a crime again.

The Bet

Betty has the largest bladder on the planet. At least that is what she believed. Betty would go around, bragging about how large her urinary bladder was. Betty would brag and boast about how much she could hold. And these were not just empty words either. Betty could be on a road trip with all her friends and while they are squirming for the bathroom, she is totally fine. Betty was the woman who could down half a dozen alcoholic drinks and last for several more hours before a single trip to the ladies’ room. Betty never had to worry about where the nearest bathroom was, how clean it was, or how much she drank. Because no matter how much she drank, Betty was always able to arrive at a toilet before even feeling desperate. Betty could hold her pee for hours, even days without a single issue!

Betty would even go so far as to pee into a jug and measure her urine. Each time she measured was far more impressive than the last. Betty has been known to hold up to two and a half gallons of urine in her gut.

One day, Betty got into a small argument with her boyfriend, Jeff. Jeff insisted that there was no way Betty’s bladder was that big to hold indefinitely. Betty agreed whole holding indefinitely may be tricky, even for her, she could certainly hold for extended periods of time. Betty even bet that she could hold it all inside for a year. Betty even took this a step farther and bet that she could do this while drinking an entire gallon of water a day as well as a diuretic of Jeff’s choosing. Jeff was a gambling man, so he agreed. The winner got two thousand dollars.

The bet was on and everything was in place.

For the next few weeks, Betty drank an entire gallon of water and each day, Jeff chose a diuretic for her to drink as well. Betty did all of this without a single bathroom break and no problems. It wasn’t until the end of the second month that Betty began to feel the pressure.

Betty’s sweet, soundless nights soon became her squirming and grasping herself as she rocked herself to sleep. Each drop of liquid Betty was forced to consume suddenly felt like an ocean down her hatch. Betty felt tidal waves pound at her bladder as an entire storm began to brew down there. Betty spent her newfound days wiggling and squirming and dancing all around in absolute desperation. Her enormous bladder had expanded from her belly at an alarming rate. Upon seeing his girlfriend so uncomfortable, Jeff tried to call off the bet. But between wanting to win that two grand and showing her boyfriend what her bladder was made of, Betty continued to push her gigantic pee sack as far as it would go.

Betty still had ten months to go, and she could barely walk or think straight anymore. But through all this, Betty never leaked a drop.

The Punishment of Povolo

In a very ancient, lost religion, there tells a tale of a hero who was at the same time, a trickster. Povolo was a son of the chief of the gods, Lak.

Before Povolo was even born, Lak and his wife, the lovely Queen Beeta made a bet. Lak insisted that his son would have godly features just like him. Beeta, however, pointed out the sad truth that Povolo was only half-god, for his mother was a mortal. Povolo would be extraordinary, sure. But as extraordinary as the gods? No way!

Lak, insistent on winning this bet with his wife, sent his servant Y the lion down to earth where he bestowed upon baby Povolo the powers of an immortal god. Unfortunately, the process had just begun when Povolo’s mortal mother, Kupla came into the nursery. Upon seeing a lion standing over her baby, Kupla freaked out. Her motherly instincts kicked in. She grabbed a club and beat the lion to death.

This deeply angered Uwwo the goddess of wildlife. You see, Y was actually Uwwo’s lion servent who she leant to Lak. Furious at seeing her servant be destroyed at the bloody hands of Kulpa, Uwwo put a curse on baby Povolo. The thing was, despite failing his task to grant Povolo godhood, before Kupla beat him dead, Y had started the process of godlifying Povolo’s organs. Y had given the child a urinary bladder worthy of the gods. This made it so Povolo would never leak urine and would forever be in full control of his natural juices. Uwwo used this to her advantage. Yes, thanks to Y, Povolo had an indestructible bladder. But Uwwo cursed the child so he his bladder would always fill up, even directly after he voided.

Povolo grew. Povolo constantly had to urinate. But for as often as he needed the chamber pot, his bladder never leaked. Povolo went on to defeat the worst beasts known to man and recuse many men, women, and children. As a way to make amends to Uwwo for his mother murdering Y, Povolo even went on to protect wildlife.

Povolo would save people and animals and defeat monsters and foes, not with his strength… But with his intelligence. Povolo would trick every villain he came across. Povolo tricked the villain to set up their own trap and thus, their own demise.

Uwwo watched from the heavens as this hero performed nobel deeds. Each one more brave and daring than the last. Perhaps Uwwo misjudged this hero. Perhaps she had him all wrong. After watching Povolo rescue a kitten from a tree, that settled Uwwo’s debate with herself. Uwwo declared that she would undo the curse she bestowed upon this hero years ago when he was a baby.

Alas, before Uwwo could take away this hero’s curse, she spotted the hero go head to head with none other than Uwwo’s own son, Tetetat.

Tetetat was a giant beast that had the body of a lion, the legs of a horse, the striped pattern of an okapi, the head of a dragon, the tail of a yeti, and a unicorn’s horn. The beast even had half a dozen live serpents, six growing out of each side of his body.

Povolo made the mistake of using his cunning to defeat Uwwo’s son in combat. Uwwo grew furious. She used her might and placed Povolo stuck in a great river with a roaring waterfall behind him. Povolo could not move from this spot. Uwwo had bound the hero’s ankles with seagrass. Should Povolo try to move, he would only land face first in the mud and churning water. Nor could he void his bladder as Uwwo made his sphincter always remain closed.

Instead, poor Povolo had to stand in the stream, listening to the roaring water day in and day out. To make matters worse, a great lion stood on the plain before him. The great lion would urinate and urinate before the trickster's urine filled eyes. For the great lion’s bladder would never run empty. The great lion would forever urinate, a task which the hero, Povolo was no longer permitted to do.

Edited by UrineLover1 (see edit history)
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  • 7 months later...

The Amazon Fortress was a holy place. Exposing unclean bodily organs within those walls would be an insult to Diana herself. After 2 hours of eating and drinking in the Great Hall the lusty warriors were spreading legs and lifting skirts but the male servants handling the chamber pots were unable to relieve themselves unless dismissed to the outbuildings by female authority. The male consorts had a rough time as well. The chieftain's trophy husband learned how important the rules were when he casually asked for a pot. The burly woman laid the petite man across the table and pulled up his coat so only hose covered his tender buttocks. The other women prevented the spanking by shouting that a bottom like that was too good to bruise. Instead she taught the wanton young man a lesson by grabbing the biggest and fullest pitcher in the room and forcing it to his lips until he'd swallowed every drop. The remaining 3 hours of the feast were very hard on him but he stood by his woman.

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  • 5 months later...

Note: This is an expanded version of a 280 character story I wrote in the Very Short Stories thread.

---

(Morning Pee Hold)

"They say it's good to hold your morning pee in for a while, especially when you need it quite badly early in the morning" I reminded my wife as she made her way to the toilet.

"I'm well aware darling, that's what you told me the other day, and I've been dutifully following your advice, I still haven't taken yesterday morning's pee yet! My poor heavily stretched bladder has been filling to the brim for over 24 hours, so if you wouldn't mind I'm quite desperate to go take a very badly needed pee now!" she countered, rubbing her poor uncomfortably swollen bladder.

"That sounds like all the more reason why you should skip your morning pee dear, it's better exercise when your bladder is really full after holding it in for a really long time. Surely you can at least hold it in for a few more hours" I pointed out. She groans and shoves her fists into her crotch.

"Darling please, my bladder is so painfully overstretched with yesterday's unreleased piss. I drank at least 8 large glasses of water throughout the day yesterday just like you suggested, with each one swelling my poor heavily swollen bladder out farther. Just brushing my teeth last night while standing right next to the toilet that I wasn't supposed to use was torture on my poor throbbing little pee hole, I wanted to pee so frigging bad! And then you came in and just casually whipped your cock out and started to pee in the toilet right next to me while I was already squirming in desperation! I asked you to hurry up and finish peeing so that I could plop myself down on that toilet seat and take my belated morning pee before bed! But you said that since I'd been able to hold it all day that I ought to try to keep holding it overnight if I could, so that's what I did!".

"And I'm glad that you didn't give into that temptation to pee last night dear" I say as I reach out a hand to her visibly swollen bladder bulge. She lets me gently press on it, it's rock hard to the touch. "Holding your morning pee in for over 24 hours is quite an accomplishment dear. I'm pleased to see just how swollen your bladder has gotten; it shows that you kept your healthy fluid intake up all day yesterday, even as it got harder to hold it when your bladder grew heavier and heavier throughout the day. But I still think that a healthy young lady like you ought to be able to keep holding all that pent up urine in her heavily swollen bladder for at least another 24 hours dear".

My wife sighs in exasperation, she wants to do nothing more than hurry to our toilet and take her long overdue morning pee, it's probably been a good 32 hours since she's last peed. But at the same time she knows I'm right that it would be better if she kept on holding it for as long as she could, after all long pee holding sessions were great exercise. She knows she's going to lose this argument; she grits her teeth and shoves her hands between her legs. "Ugh, ok fine! My bladder is so painfully swollen with over a day's worth of unreleased piss, and I need to pee so very badly, but I'll skip my morning pee and try to keep holding it for you darling!".

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