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female Witicker’s Home For Troubled Youth


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1.0

Joana Witicker made her fortune during the 1800’s gold rush. She was a trend setter the entire time. One of the only females in the area under her own accord. Furthermore, she and her sister, Gwenevere ran their own mine. Unprecedented at the time.

Gold mining in and of itself was a difficult and dangerous path to take. However, the young women found the hardest part was the men working the surrounding mines. They were condisending, crude, and very sexually inappropriate, exposing themselves often and frequently making rude suggestions the 2 women do similar. 

Joana and Gwenevere, while considered ahead of their time, adhered to simple rules - always be in control, and never reveal more than you’re willing to. 

The women often worked long 12 hour days on their mine. Naturally, during that time, Nature would call. The men on other mines had no problem whipping themselves out, sometimes just wherever they happened to be standing to relieve themselves. The girls, of course weren’t as fortunate.  

On their very first day, Gwenevere was the first to feel the need at just mid morning. She tried to ignore her need. To remain a lady. But the work was just too physically demanding and by early afternoon, she could no longer contain herself. She ran off to a nearby tree, only to have every male on the neighboring claim quite literally drop whatever they were doing to come over and watch as she hiked up her dress. Gwenevere was mortified, but Joana was angry. 

Joana also needed to go, worse as the hours rolled on. But after watching the humiliation Gwenevere had endured by having an audience while going, Joana couldn’t bring herself to give the men another show. By late afternoon, Joana reached her own point of no longer being able to hold it, but chose a different path to relief, choosing to wet herself where she stood. She had quite needed to go, so it took a while for her bladder to empty, but no one except Gwenevere noticed or paid any attention. Joana simply kicked some dirt over her puddle and continued working, giving Gwenevere a shrug and smile. From then on, the girls exclusively wet themselves (only while at the mine of course, they were still civil ladies after all). 

After 3 years, the sisters had finished mining their claim, and had made an absolute fortune that they split 50/50. Gwenevere took her half and returned home to help their parents with retirement. Joana, on the other hand, had more philanthropathic plans. 

During their years mining, the sisters witnessed quite a few “town girls” be subjected to unsavory requests by the men with the expectation they would oblige. Joana was outraged. Men were disgusting animals. 

After Gwenevere left, Joana stayed behind and bought a large house. She set up a fund and started taking in some of the town girls to help them regain their confidence and find a more savory way to earn money. 

Throughout the rest of her life, Joana helped more young women reintegrate back into civil society than she could count. But what she didn’t realize, and would never know, was that her work, and fortune, was just the beginning of what would become Joana Witicker’s Home for Troubled Youth. 

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1.1

Theresa Inderwall sat in the driver seat of her rented minivan, awaiting her target to arrive at work. She had spent the last 3 days in the same exact seat. Waiting. Watching. Learning her target’s patterns, habits. Today was finally the day. 

This was only the second time she’d ever been chosen to select a young woman for this year’s admittance to Witicker’s Home for Troubled Youth, and was determined to do the best she could. 

Each year, the Board of Trustees for The Home joined at a round table and randomly chose who would select their latest admittance. They only accepted 2 young women per year, and the selection process was quite rigorous.

Every Board member had to have 2 distinct pieces of their history to even be accepted onto the Board - she had to be a graduate of the Home, and had to have either special forces, or CIA experience. 

Theresa had been accepted into The Home a day after her 18th birthday after spending years being rented out by her father. What made her a good candidate though was that she kept a meticulous list of each of the men who spent time with her, researched every single one of them to determine how to systematically bring them to their knees begging for forgiveness. Some were as simple as money management or blackmail to tell a wife or girlfriend or both. Some needed some “creative” solutions, but she had her list. And The Home’s online filters caught it all. This, her acceptance as a young woman. 

The Home helped her to channel her anger, become laser focused, eased her traumas and nightmares, and ultimately helped her get into college so she could work her way into the CIA data management. 

On this day though, she was determined to help another young woman start her path towards a better life. Her mark’s name was Samantha Delinique. Samantha had spent the last several years being “encouraged” to work at a rather disgusting establishment. Her job was uncomfortably icky. And most importantly, today, through their internet filters, Theresa had learned that Samantha planned to burn down the entire building during rush hour. Samantha was the perfect candidate - rough history but with motivation, commitment, and follow through. 

Theresa caught herself finishing her second bottle of water this morning, even though it was only 10 AM. She was nervous. There was always some level of risk in the selection process. As she tossed the bottle in back, she cursed herself and that habit. She knew she’d regret it later. 

Her self regret did t last long though as she caught Samantha walking past her car towards her place of employment. Theresa thought she almost saw a skip in Samantha’s step. Today was definitely the right day. 

Through a series of events Theresa preferred not to relive in memory, she managed to not only encourage Samantha to come with her to The Home, but also managed to shut the entire institute down, and had the owner arrested. Overall a very successful operation. Theresa was proud. 

Samantha, on the other hand was nervous. Her excitement quickly wore off and she realized she now found herself sitting next to a stranger that told a wonderful tale, but who knew if any of it was true. They’d now been driving a few hours, and the adrenaline had long ago worn off. As whenever she felt nervous, she had to pee. She knew she didn’t actually have to go that bad, but her nerves caused her to feel like she was desperate. 

Having had a rough few years, Samantha was not timid, soft spoken, or even usually politically correct. She said what was on her mind as it crossed her mind. Right now, that was her anxious bladder. 

”Hey, we gotta find somewhere to pull off. I gotta take leak,” She said to Theresa. 

Theres shook her head. They had a lot of work to do with Samantha. “A lady does not ‘take a leak’ Samantha,” She started. “A civil woman ‘excuses herself to the washroom’”. 

”Either way, we gotta make that happen soon, I’m bustin’” Samantha answered. 

”Samantha, while at The House, you will learn an incredible amount of self control, etiquette, mannerisms, and politeness. I would like to to start some of those lessons now,” Theresa said. “To be completely open and honest, my bladder has made itself known to me for the past hour. However, I am practicing self control. I am also exhibiting politeness by not burdening you with my concerns, mannerisms by choosing carefully how I speak of these matters, and etiquette by not stopping at a rest area simply to relieve myself without intentions of contributing to their business.”

Samantha sat for a moment before replying, “So you have to pee too, but you’re not because you’re too polite? Thats dumb. Pissin’s natural. And it’ll eventually happen regardless of if you want it to or not, so might  as well just go ahead and let loose.”

“I will allow myself to step away and attend to this matter at an appropriate time. Until then, I will continue to practice self control. If you are unable to at this moment, we can find an appropriate place to pull off so as not to bother any travelers or businesses.”

”You want me to pop a squat?” Samantha asked, surprised. 

Theresa sighed. They’d have a lot of work to do with Samantha’s choice in phrasing. “Sort of. I’m saying we will pull off the side of the road somewhere concealed so you may return your water to nature.”

“Pop a squat on the side of the road. Cool. What do you have in here to wipe with?” Samantha asked. 

“Miss Joana Witicker firmly believed in waste not, want not. Accordingly, we at The House do not waste paper in the form of toilet tissue,” Theresa said. 

“... What do you use then?” Samantha asked, concerned about the answer. 

Theresa thought carefully about her answer. “Many things at The House are managed differently than how you may be used to doing them. For now, in this particular case, I’d suggest a leaf or scrap of paper. When we arrive, many of our policies will be disclosed to you. Some you will be happy with I’m sure. Some will take getting used to. Be assured though, everything is done intentionally and with careful thought and consideration.”

”Until we arrive,” Theresa continued, pulling off the road into a small, fairly secluded field. “This will have to do.”

Glad to be moments away from relief, Samantha quickly opened her door and took a few steps away from the car before pausing and turning around, “Coming? Or do you want to do this one at a time?”

”Neither,” Theresa answered softly. “As I mentioned earlier, despite being aware of my bladder and a growing quantity or urine inside of it, I will continue to practice self control.” 

Samantha shrugged and pulled down her pants before squatting down, still facing Theresa and the road. Theresa sighed. Much work to do. 

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1.2 

Samantha stood in front of the minivan, awestruck at the mansion towering before her. It was not at all what she had pictured when Theresa called it The House. Part medieval castle, part celebrity vacation home, she now understood that was just the name. 

”This...?” She asked, at a loss for words for the first time since this journey began. 

”This is The House,” The Theresa answered, ushering Samantha inside. “And we’re a little late. There are many reasons self control is essential. Remember that moving foreword.”

”We’re late because I had to pee?” Samantha questioned. 

”No,” Theresa said. “We’re late because you urinated. I too felt that temptation throughout the entire ride and still ongoing, but that was my burden to bare. You gave in to it. That is why we are late.”

”Peeing is not a temptation,” Samantha retorted, though under her breath. 

”WELCOME TO THE WITICKER’S HOME FOR TROUBLED YOUTH!” A blaring voice announced, echoing throughout the Great Room the pair just entered. Two spiral staircases led to other floors on each side of the room. Three women stood in the middle - one a little older, one in maybe her 30’s, and one about Samantha’s age. 

”You must be Samantha?” The older woman said, coming foreword to shake her hand. “My name Dorothy Lasage and I’m the Headmistress here at The Home, but please, call me Dot.”

”Behind me is Eliza McGovern and her Selectee Rachael Adminski,” Dot continued. “Rachael will be the other young woman in your cohort.” 

Samantha and Theresa took a place standing next to Rachael and Eliza, all facing Dot as the Headmistress began a well versed introduction before delving into some of the policies. 

”Here at The Home, you will learn invaluable skills and trades. Most of our graduates go on to special forces or intelligence. We expect the same you. Accordingly, your day to day life while here is heavily structured,” Dot said. 

”You will have morning physical training from 06:30 until 08:00, class from 08:15 until noon. Lunch from noon until 13:00. 13:15 until 16:00 will contain practical or skill based learning. Afternoon physical training from from 16:15 until 17:30. Dinner from 17:45 until 18:30. An hour of self study and reflection until 19:30. And lights out at 20:00.” Dot listed off the grueling schedule. 

”It is expected you will shower after both morning and afternoon physical training. Which takes me to bodily matters,” Dot continued. “There are several bathrooms throughout The House. They unlock automatically at 06:00 upon waking and again at 19:30 before bed. It is strongly recommended you take full advantage of both these times. There was a Selectee several years ago who liked to sleep in and missed her morning bathroom time. She had some very difficult days.

”Wait,” Samantha said out of turn. “So what happens if you have to pee during the day?” She asked, thinking of Theresa who still had yet to go. 

Dot looked back to Theresa who stepped foreword to answer. “As you already know Samantha, and to inform you Rachael, I myself currently have a bladder that has been announcing its presence to me for several hours now. It has started to bulge out and dig into my belt. I am also acutely aware of the pressure pushing on my urethra. However, one of the core competencies of The House is self control. That includes bodily functions such as urination. Therefore, I will continue to maintain my composure and control until 19:30 tonight when my restroom is unlocked and I may appropriately relieve myself.”

Rachael raises her hand before softly asking, “What about that time of month? Do the bathrooms unlock more often?”

This time, Dot looked to Eliza. “The short answer is no, the washrooms lock and unlock automatically at the same times every day, regardless. Now, we are all women here. We understand that the cycle is normal and natural. Over the years, we have trialed almost every solution one can think of. Ultimately, we’ve found the most success with these,” Eliza said, stepping foreword and pulling the front of her pants open to reveal she was wearing what looking like a thin diaper around her waist that progressed into a noticeably thick pad near her groin.  

”Forgive me for my appearance, as is currently the same with Theresa, my bladder is unusually full today. But we’ve found that this particular cycle pad offers the least effect on daily activities, while managing to cleanly and effectively contain even the heaviest of flows.” 

”Can’t you just pee in it?” Samantha asked. 

Eliza smiles softly. “Unfortunately no, as these are not disposable. Our laundry staff does an amazing job. However, they have been strictly instructed to alert senior staff should that occur. The goal here, is to learn and practice self control. As such, my urine will remain in my bladder at this time. As I’m sure Theresa told you, Miss Witicker strongly believed in minimizing waste. The urine breaks down the integrity of the pad and shortly renders them useless.”

”She did tell me that,” Samantha said. “Also told me you don’t use toilet paper here?”

”That is correct,” Dot answered this time. “Toilet tissue is extremely wasteful and ultimately harmful to the environment.”

After a long pause where Samantha expected Dot to continue, she asked, “So what do you use then?”

Dot looked softly at Samantha for a moment before asking, “ Samantha, may I ask what the status of your pubic hair is?”

”My uh... what now?” Samantha stumbled out, completely thrown off. 

”Your pubic hair,” Dot continued without missing a beat. “As you can see,” she started while pulling her pants and white cotton panties to her knees, “I, as well as my fellow Board Members are completely shaven clean. Not a single hair to be found. This allows for fast and effective use of our bidet, followed by complete drying by air. The so called ‘drip dry’ technique.” 

From Samantha’s side, Rachael finally spoke up. “I’m sorry, but all this talk about going to the bathroom and I was totally unprepared for this and Eliza wouldn’t stop on the way here and I just... I really have to go to the bathroom. Like right now,” she said, bending over at the waist and plunging a hand into her crotch. 

While Samantha was feeling some need to go again, she was incredibly thankful Theresa stopped for her. 

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31 minutes ago, HoldingPrinces said:

Hopefully not. Just because of the lack of proper toilet facilities and their dirtyness, made me hold pee all day at school 

I kinda do this as well. Same dirtyness problem. Though if I really need to go, I would still go.

It leads to lots of desperate in school bus moments when I go home though. Would even occasionally dare to let out little spurts in my pants, until I got a little nice wet spot. It's not that odd for an elementary school boy to have wee bit accidents after all. 😊

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1.3

“Rachael,” Dot started. “I understand you were caught off guard today, couldn’t be prepared. Little time to adapt. I know you’re in an unfortunate predicament.”

”However, you have been made aware of our standards. It would be my understanding there isn’t an empty bladder in this room right now. Accordingly, I simply cannot allow any exceptions. It is about 4 PM right now. That means it’s about 3 and a half hours until the bathrooms will unlock. I know you feel quite full, but do you believe it’s possible to maintain your composure until that time?”

”I... I don’t think so,” Rachael said weakly. “But I’ll try.”

“As is the expectation,” Dot agreed. 

”Now,” She said with a renewed energy. “While your belongings are brought up to your rooms, let’s take a quick tour of the grounds and facilities. Naturally, you’ll be expected to arrive to morning PT tomorrow on time. It would help if you knew where exactly you were going. 

Rachael straighted up a little and managed to pull her hand away from the grip her thighs had on it, but Samantha had her doubts. She felt bad for the poor girl. She would have been in a very similar situation had Theresa not allowed her one last rule break all over the side of the road. She had to remind herself to be nicer to Theresa  in the future.

The grounds were massive, to say the least. “5,000 acres,” Dot answered as if someone had asked. “Basically, everything you can see in every direction is ours. But don’t let that fool you into a sense of ease. There’s a reason we have so much land. Privacy is important.”

“Coming out the front door here, you’ll see our impressive hedgerow garden, with various fields and courts off to the right. To the left is our Stretching Acres Forest. I cannot stress enough that you are not allowed out there without supervision.”

As Dot continued listing off amenities and rules, Samantha caught sight of Rachael, still noticeably bent over at the waist. She was staring absently at the Forest, surely imagining popping a squat on a tree. Poor girl just looked like she wasn’t going to be able to make it. 

”I can’t hold it,” she whispered to Samantha who quickly whispered back, “Yes you can. You have to. Look at Theresa, she’s holding it. So is Eliza. I bet they both aren’t sure they can wait, but they are.”

”Even I’m holding it right now,” Samantha continued to admit. “Obviously not as much as you, but I’d definitely use the bathroom right now if I could. You e got this. We’ve all got this. I believe in you,” she encouraged to a weak smile.

Dot pushed on through a lengthy tour, showing off a painfully grueling looking obstacle course, a full faux street paintball arena complete with several small houses, and a formal reception area.

As the sun began to kiss the tips of the trees, the group finally made their way to the Olympic sized swimming pool. 

Rachael tried so hard. She really did. She tightly crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. She plunged her hand deep into her crotch to grab and squeeze. She bent over deeply at the waist. And most importantly, she desperately tried to tone out Dot talking about water jets and splashing. 

At long last, as Dot started explaining the rules about showering first, Rachael lost her battle. Not all at once. She felt the first few drops just in her underwear. The next spurt wet her hand. And then she let go. And go. And go. Her bladder contracted and squeezed and she could feel a torrent running down her legs.

It took some time for anyone to notice. Samantha, being the closest, was also the first to hear the drops hitting the tile, to see the streams running down various parts of her legs. 

Next to notice was Dot, who likely only realized what was happening based off the look on Samantha’s face. She stopped mid sentence, remaining silent for a moment before exclaiming, “Rachael...!”

”I.... I’m... I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t...” The girl stuttered before being cut off by Dot.

”Off with your pants!”

”My... what?”

”Take off your pants,” Dot said again. “Now.”

”I... I’m still going,” Rachael attempted to explain before Dot more sternly said “Take your pants off right now.” 

Samantha watched as a stream of pee flowing by Rachael’s knee suddenly stopped as the girl started removing her pants. With from the movement or the embarrassment, Rachael was no longer relieving herself. 

She gently placed her dripping wet jeans next to her, beside her impressive puddle, standing with just her pink panties that were wet about halfway up the front. 

”Underwear too,” Dot demanded next.

Rachael attempted to counter, “But,” however, couldn’t get another word out before Dot commanded, “Off.”

Rachael gulped and dropped her underwear to the ground, stepping out of them. She revealed her V which was covered in an impressively large amount of thick hair.

Dot clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry Rachael, but our expectations were laid out to you clearly. You have greatly disrespected our laundry staff, Therefore, you’ve lost your privilege to wear the articles of clothing you’ve so thoughtlessly soiled. At least for the rest of today. You will be allowed to wear them again tomorrow. Do you anything to say?”

”I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to hold it and couldn’t. But I... I still actually really need to go.” 

”That May be the case,” Dot said. “But the bathroom schedule will remain unaffected. At least you no longer run the risk of soiling you’re clothing.”

”What about you, Samantha?” Dot asked.

”I... I certainly need to go, but I’m...” She looked at Theresa for a moment. “I’m practicing self control.” 

”Excellent!” Dot commended. “Now, moving on...”

As the women began walking to their next tour destination, Samantha caught Theresa bend slightly at the knees while passing Rachael’s puddle. Poor Eliza and Theresa. Surely they both had to pee desperately at this point. But there wasn’t a chance they’d be able to. They couldn’t even afford the same fate as Rachael. Dot seemed like she’d be able to tell if either of them lost even a drop into their underwear. Not worth it. 

 

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