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I open my eyes, but things don't make sense. I could have sworn I spent the night in a very horizontal position, and now I am upright, albeit on my knees... and I didn't fall asleep in this room. I'm pretty sure it was the living room. I mean, what happened? One moment I'm at my best friend's place drinking and we're all singing and laughing and having fun, and now I'm in a.. bedroom? This isn't her bedroom, is it? Also, why are my hands tied? Why are my hands tied to the end of a bed?

 

Okay, seriously, try to remember... Evening, friends, party... No, that's not it. Err.. yes, that's right! They must have left late at night and.. I must have passed out. That's got to be it, right? But if I went out like a candle, and everyone had already left, only she could have.. except she couldn't have. That's not her. She doesn't pull pranks like this on her friends. I've known that from the moment I first met her at school about three years ago.

 

I still don't know why I started talking to her. She is strong, determined, bitchy, whatever you call that. People had differing opinions. I'd describe her as a word-vomiter. Take talkative, multiply that by one thousand, and you're not even close. Still, it was fine by me. I've always preferred listening, anyway. We found common interests: anime, music, I don't know. I guess I might have had a crush on her, potentially. Not like I'd ever admit anything like that, of course. We'd hang out after school, and one day when I was about to go home, she just had to ask if I liked her like.. like that.. y'know... So I said yes, and she said I wasn't her type. Cool.

 

We'd still hang out after school occasionally but not that much. Then nothing. Still nothing. Radio silence. Then she kind of just out of the blue told me to come to her place. You know, that's how these things happen. It doesn't make much sense, and it doesn't have to. Reminiscing about the good ol' times last night was nice, though. She really is a-

 

"Sleep well?"

good friend. There she is standing in some jeans and a plain t-shirt, looking very confident. You know, wide stance and all, tall and proud.

"Still sleepy, huh? Well, it's not a surprise, taken that you didn't wake up even when I tied you up. I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist when I saw you sprawled on the floor like that. I guess you really didn't hold back on the drinking last night."

That might be the case but I won't say it. Not that I like being tied up or anything, but it's not quite that bad. What is quite bad, though, is that sleeping like a log means not going to the toilet. I could use one right now. At least I am wearing comfortable sweatpants which don't add to the pressure. I should really stop thinking about it.

 

"Like, I mean, seriously, I thought you hated even the notion of drinking alcoholic stuff, but no. You really seemed to enjoy yourself last night."

She's not wrong, but not wholly right either. I don't like getting drunk. The stuff just tasted so damn good. I don't know how but it really did. It's not like it was a lot of alcohol, really. A couple beers' worth, maybe. But then again, I passed out. Maybe I was just tired. Speaking of tired, I could really use a quick break right now.

 

"What's the matter? You look tense."

I can't look at her. Maybe if I turn my head, she'll understand that I want to be somewhere else right now.

"Aww. Don't look away. It's okay. It's not like I would torture you or anything."

It's trying to come out. My legs are twitching, and I can't stop it. I have to keep moving to hold it. Hold up. Now she's grinning ear to ear. Don't tell me...

 

"What's up with all the shifting, sweetie? Are you uncomfortable? Do you need something? Are you holding back something?"

I thought she wasn't into this stuff. She'd always tell me and her other friends to just tell her if we need to take a break because she didn't want to worry about whether we make it or not.

"If you need something, just tell me, okay?"

She's crouched a couple feet in front of me, resting her chin on her palms, her elbows on her knees. I keep looking away. She keeps staring at me attentively.

 

"You know, all that stuff you drank last night has to be let out at some point. You can't just keep holding it in forever."

I need to go so bad, but I can't tell her I'm about to burst. I just can't say it. I just can't.

"It's impressive, though. If I hadn't gone right after waking up, I would have had an accident already. Still, you need to tell me before it's too late."

It's trying to force itself out. The wave is coming, I can feel it already. I'm fighting with all I've got, but it won't last long. Her eyes keep jumping back and forth between my face and my crotch. With her watching, there's no way in hell I'll give up.

 

Frankly, I don't have to give up. The writing is on the wall. The wave rushes over me, and a strained gasp escapes my mouth. A spurt slips past my defences. It's hot and wet, and it's very embarrassing to have it happen in front of her. I'm trembling, whimpering. It's too hard on me, too difficult to keep my act together. A tear rolls down my cheek.

"That's quite a wet spot. Don't you think it's time to get up and go?"

I can't hold it any longer. I just can't. It's too late. Another wave hits. I stifle a wail, but can't hold the jet of hot liquid now running down my pants. I just can't. The river begins to flow, soaking my black sweatpants on its way to the spreading puddle on the floor. There is some splattering, a faint hiss, and a lot of short breaths and stifled moans of relief. I'm going lights-out, I can feel it. My vision is fading.

 

The stream slows down, and ends with two little dribbles. The feeling of relief fades, giving way to shame and humiliation. I just lost control in front of my best friend. I had an accident. I break down, crying.

"Aww. It's okay. We'll just clean up this ocean you released, and do some laundry. It's no big deal."

She's right. It really isn't a big deal, but the feelings are just too strong. I can't stop crying.

"I'll just untie these knots, and you can go take a shower, okay? I'll bring you some fresh clothes, so cheer up, okay?"

 

Complicated thing, these emotions, don't you think? Are we just friends or is this something more? I can't stop thinking about it in the shower. Who are we, going forward? The clothes she brought, they're something she would wear. Me? Well, I'm not, like, against denim shorts and crop tops or anything, but that's a story for another time.

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  • 7 months later...

I step out of the shower. My eyes quickly find the towel and clothes that she brought me. I hesitate: is it really okay for me to use this towel? A sharp knock on the bathroom door brings me out of my thoughts:

"You don't have to worry about how they look. We can keep this a secret, so get dressed already!"

I look at the clothes: black denim shorts, a black crop top, black panties and a black bra. This is definitely not just a temporary substitute for until my clothes have been washed and dried. She wants to see how I would look as a girl, maybe more specifically as a goth girl? There is no other explanation I can think of.

"I.. think it's going to be an awkward.. fit", I inform her, trying to raise my voice enough for her to hear through the door.

"We can think of a fix when we've put your clothes in the washing machine", she replies.

 

I guess I had better get dressed in that case. I carefully step into the panties and pull them up. They're not uncomfortable, at least not now. Now, the bra. I have no experience, but how hard can it be? Let's see: those look like small hooks and on the other side they'll attach to.. they'll attach to.. erm... Ah, surely that m-shaped small piece of metal. All of that behind my back. Right. Here we go. No, that's not quite it. Come on, now. There we go. Feels odd to have a band around my chest, but it's not unpleasant.

 

No more challenges await as far as the clothing goes. Everything's just a bit tighter than I'm used to. I cautiously open the door a little, only for her to yank the door all the way open. Without thinking I've raised my hands in front of my face and taken a step back.

"Aww, don't be shy, it doesn't look that awkward", she tries to comfort me, "There is one thing we need to fix, though. Just a sec."

I stand still, overwhelmed by the situation, while she dashes to her room and retrieves something black: tights.

"I'm sorry, the leg hair really doesn't look right."

 

I retreat to the bathroom once more with the black tights in my right hand. Slipping out of the shorts, into the tights, and into the shorts again doesn't take long. Only slightly more confident than before, I emerge from the bathroom. This time I'm greeted by the brightest smile I've ever seen on her face:

"I've always said you kind of look like a girl with your long hair, but now you're just adorable."

I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as her eyes thoroughly scan me. My eyes point to the floor. It's a very normal floor. A couple of painfully long seconds pass. Then she breaks the silence again:

"So... I'll just slap these in the washing machine, and then we'll have breakfast."

She walks past me into the bathroom, carrying my wet clothes in her hands. I wander from the bathroom to the kitchen, lost in thought.

 

The breakfast and the tidying-up of the living room were a blur. As I slowly regain the ability to think clearly, I also become aware of my bladder filling. She is sitting on the couch in the living room, going through her list of anime to watch. She doesn't need my input right now. I walk into the bathroom and close and lock the door behind me. I begin taking the last steps towards my destination, but my bladder protests. It wants to be emptied right now. Despite the accident I had earlier this morning, I still have enough strength to hold it in. I unbutton and unzip the shorts, and then pull them down along with the tights and panties. I sit down, and release. I have to check, and, yes, the stream hitting the porcelain is almost clear. I am healthily hydrated.

 

The stream tapers off. I use a piece of toilet paper because I extra don't want even a couple of tiny droplets of my urine on the panties I am borrowing from her. I pull everything back up, zip and button up, flush the toilet, wash my hands, and get out of the bathroom. I walk up to her, and carefully sit down next to her on the couch.

"Great timing. I just found the anime I had in mind for today."

I don't say anything in response. She gets up.

"I'll just go pee real quick. Be right back."

I guess I'll read the short description or preface or whatever it's called. Has she picked something great or is it only good? I can't tell, not with this generic "high school student (male) has a secret power and must fight alongside oversexualised female characters to protect the world from a magical entity" description. Well, soon I shall see how much I like it.

 

She emerges from the bathroom, but doesn't immediately come to the living room. Instead she fetches two glasses and a 1.5 litre bottle of Coca-Cola. Now, I'm definitely not a Pepsi-guy, but Coca-Cola just isn't all that tasty to me. Of course I'll drink it, but it's never my first pick. She fills both glasses almost to the brim, and sets the bottle down. A table in front of the couch would be very nice at times like this, but I guess the floor works well enough. We pick up the glasses, and sip the sugar water while the anime starts.

 

She takes a final big gulp, emptying her glass, around the halfway mark of the episode. In the anime world the main character and his childhood friend have met the first oversexualised female character (the strong one), and as a result the childhood friend's trust in the main character is slightly eroded at this point. I expect in a couple of seconds the anime will cut to nighttime scene where the villain's plan is explained for the first time. In the real world I realise I'm almost done with my glass of dilute syrup. She pauses the anime to refill her glass, so I quickly gulp down what's left in mine to refill it without having to ask her to pause the anime later.

 

I didn't really feel it earlier, but the one problem that plagues this house is heat. For some reason, there never ever seems to be a way to drop the room temperature below 23 degrees Celsius (about 73 in Fahrenheit). She is, of course, accustomed to this, but I'm not. Tight clothing doesn't help. Especially the tights don't help. I hope she doesn't mind my sweating the Pacific Ocean in her clothes. She will probably not be wearing them anytime soon, but I really hope she doesn't mind. Now she's looking at me. Do I look uncomfortable? False alarm; her eyes return to the screen.

 

She finishes her second glass as the first episode is coming to an end. I'm only halfway through mine. Before I get the chance to protest, she skips the rest of the ending song and starts the next one. Now we don't get to see the preview of the second episode, which could mean that we won't understand some parts until the end of the episode. I hope she doesn't complain about that. As the opening song plays, she once again refills her glass.

"What's the deal with the coke?" I ask. Her eyes narrow as she turns to face me.

"I'm not addicted, just thirsty."

I don't want to challenge that, but I don't find it very smart. Water would be better. I don't think I'm in a position to tell her what to do, though. I'm the guest; she's the host.

 

In the anime world the main character goes to school, puzzled by the mess he has got himself into. He tries to go normally about his day. I can get behind that. I pour the fizzy contents of my glass down my throat. This moving liquid brings to my attention that my bladder is not empty. It has not been more than thirty-five minutes and already I need the toilet again. Maybe these clothes are a little too tight. I adjust my position after I put the empty glass on the floor. I am a big boy. I can hold it. It will only be twelve more minutes. I can hold it for twelve minutes. I bring my legs somewhat closer. They're almost together now. Meanwhile, she has crossed her legs. Are we in the same boat?

 

The main character in the anime is now trying to understand why he is so central to the plot. Why are all of these monsters attacking him? Why can't it be someone else? What does he have that others don't? Of course, we the viewers know that he has a hidden ability because that's how anime works. It can't be anyone else because he must get all the women around him as a harem. That's how this genre works. Oversexualised female character #1 from the first episode needs a base of operations. Conveniently the main character's parents are nowhere to be seen. As this is playing out on the screen, I realise the second episode will soon end. Five more minutes. My knees are pressed together, my hands press down on my thighs, and I'm breathing more heavily than usual. My body is slowly tensing up, but I've still got time.

 

As soon as the ending song starts, she pauses the anime, and gets up quickly.

"Just a minute", she says as she opens the bathroom door, and closes it behind her.

Meanwhile, I get up, and walk to the bathroom door slightly bent over, and with my hands in fists on my thighs. As I'm stepping around and occasionally grabbing myself in front of the bathroom, I can hear her letting it gush into the toilet bowl over the sounds of the washing machine. From hearing that, my bladder contracts, but I hold on. I can feel the next wave building up, though. She flushes the toilet, but I am prepared, and nothing happens. As she is washing her hands, my bladder contracts hard, squeezing a little dribble into the panties I'm wearing, and making me gasp.

 

She opens the door and steps out of the bathroom, making way for me. I'm in too much of a hurry to close the door before rushing to get the shorts, tights, and panties out of harm's way. As I'm not facing the right way, I default to sitting down to release the Niagara Falls against the porcelain. A loud sigh escapes my mouth as the source of all tension erupts out of me. For a moment there is only a loud hiss. Then it fades, and I take a look at the damage.

 

The stream must have started just before I sat down because not only is there a wet patch on the panties, and a slightly smaller one on the tights, but also a narrow wet line on the back of the panties, and some drops on the toilet seat and the floor. How can I tell her about this? Can I tell her about this? What would she say? I wipe the drops off the floor and the toilet seat with toilet paper. I also try to get the panties and tights as dry as possible. As I pull everything back up, feeling the remaining wetness doesn't exactly boost my confidence in being able to keep the leaks a secret. I can't feel any wetness on the shorts when I check, though. Maybe I'll be fine. I flush the toilet, and wash my hands. Then I realise that the door has been open all along. Not wide open, but still not closed. I can feel my face getting warmer.

 

As I exit the bathroom, and return to the couch as if nothing has happened, she looks at me, scanning me again. Before I sit down, she gestures me to stop.

"Did you make it?"

"Yeah..."

"No leaks? I don't want any pee on the couch. Seriously, you looked quite desperate, like you were about to have an accident."

I can't lie about this one, but I can't tell the truth, either. I mean, seriously, am I going to admit to peeing in her clothes? No way. I don't have to, though. The silence was enough to get the message across. She sighs before saying:

"Get the towel I gave you earlier and sit on that."

I sheepishly retrieve the towel from the bathroom, place it on the couch, and sit down, still blushing.

"Seriously, if you need to go, just tell me."

"I know."

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  • 3 months later...

She really is quite a friend to have. She invited me to a party at her place, and when I eventually fell asleep on the living room floor (I swear it's because I was tired, not because I was drunk), she dragged me to her bedroom, and tied me to the end of her bed. I think I've already told you what happened next... not that I really mind it too much when it happens, but it was a little embarrassing. Still, it doesn't feel that bad when I know it will be a secret. She is even letting me borrow some of her clothes, and she isn't totally cross even though I... Anyway, the washing machine is now in the high-RPM, extra-loud phase, whatever that's called. Soon it will be time to hang my clothes, and lots of her clothes too, by the way, to dry.

 

We should be about half-way through this season of the anime we're watching. Is this episode five or six? I don't know, I'm not really paying much attention. At least it would seem my bladder has calmed down quite a bit, and the panties, tights, and shorts that I'm borrowing, as well as the towel she told me to sit on, are more or less dry. I do feel a bit sleepy, though. Having spent most the night, as far as I know, in an awkward half-sitting, half-lying-down position probably didn't have a positive effect on the quality of my sleep. Usually, when I feel sleepy or just tired near her, I rest my head on her shoulder or lie down and rest my head in her lap. This time neither option is possible because she's not close enough.

 

Now, calm or not, my bladder is not exactly empty. I guess I'll go after this episode. It's not urgent, though: no pressure. There is, however, a different sort of pressure build-up that could get awkward. You see, even men's clothing isn't really made to be comfortable when you, uhm... I don't need to tell you, right? The thing is: I'm not wearing men's clothing. Women's clothing really doesn't have that kind of.. room. I hope it's short-lived. I can sort of deal with it when I'm sitting down, but if I stand up it'll be obvious. If I knew what got me.. excited, maybe I could actually do something about it. Well, there are still five minutes left until this episode's end. That should be enough time for it to pass.

 

There must be something wrong with the washing machine. The bathroom door is closed, but I can barely hear any of the dialogue in the anime. Not that it's an actual problem, but I like learning Japanese words or simple sentences. That won't happen if I can't hear the Japanese. Maybe the washing machine isn't level, or it's grinding against the wall? Not my machine, not my job. Have I already told you how loud it is? Anyway, I'm glad to report that getting up won't be a problem anymore, at least for me. To my left, however... The way her legs are crossed leads me to believe that I'm not the first one to get up when the episode ends.

 

The episode is ending; the ending song is playing. Her hand reaches for the spacebar on her laptop to pause the episode.

"Be riiight back", she quickly says, reeeally stretching the "i" in "right", before walking quickly to the bathroom.

Well, I'm not in a hurry, so I don't need to get up yet. I opt to take a look at what's coming up next, but there are no more episodes of this anime to be found. A quick search on Google later I know exactly why: it's still ongoing; the later episodes haven't aired yet. Well, it's a bit too, er, what's the fancy word, generic anyway. It's quite boring to watch the same story unfold with the difference that the main character's hair is brown instead of blue, for example, isn't it? As I sit there wondering, a strange silence falls. I can hear that she's washing her hands. She unlocks and opens the bathroom door, and then says:

"Your turn."

 

I get up, walk to the bathroom, and close and lock the door behind me. Only now I realise why everything's so quiet all of a sudden: the washing machine has begun the final draining phase. Why is my brain operating so slowly? In a minute or two I'll get my clothes out, and then they'll dry, and sometime in the afternoon I can go home without a trace of any accident. But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Having thought about all of that while emptying my bladder, I quickly check the shorts, tights, and panties: only the panties are a bit damp, and that's probably because it's so hot I've been sweating noticably. I can hardly believe how quickly everything has dried.

 

The rest of the day was very normal, and not wet. My clothes had dried at around 3 p.m. Before that, though, we rewatched some anime that we both liked, and she did my make-up because "you're already dressed like a girl so might as well complete the transformation". I think she enjoyed that a lot more than I did. Before I left, I carefully removed all of the make-up, changed back to my own clothes, and thanked her for letting me wear some of her clothes while mine were in the wash. All in all, she really is a great friend... and I'm glad she didn't try to dye my hair.

Edited by sleeping_cat01 (see edit history)
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