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This was going to be my most ambitious challenge yet - I wanted to withhold my permission to urinate for twelve hours straight (one half a day)! No small task, especially for me, with a bladder that only holds about 600 mL. To that end, I began at 12:17 AM by drinking 432 mL of water. I went to sleep and woke up at 7:15 AM. I could already tell that I needed to go. It's almost a primitive instinct, a drive to get whatever meager satisfaction can be achieved by emptying one's bladder. As humans, however, we fight our instincts at every turn. This was no different. I climbed out of bed and dressed in the bathroom, while the toilet that I couldn't use for the next five hours taunted me. For reference, if you haven't seen any of my videos, I am exactly 6 feet tall and built like a (very thin) brick. My face, which isn't in any videos, has features that might be considered attractive separately, but are quite odd together - A strong chin, oversized nose and ears, average brown hair, bushy eyebrows, and eyes that look completely brown unless the light hits them at the right angle, revealing the bits of grey in them. I also wear glasses. All in all, I look slightly off-average. I've been told that I have a gentle voice, but that's irrelevant here, as I do not use it in this story, though if you wish to hear a voice read ifmt to you in your head, that is the one you should imagine. Back on the main topic, the clothes I changed into were a pair of compression underwear (moisture-wicking and skintight), a pair of loose black shorts, a generic blue cotton shirt, and a fitted flannel jacket. The compression boxers would keep the pee close to my skin, were there any leaks, and should any get on the black shorts, it would blend in. Additionally, the flannel could be tied around my waist to cover up any potential evidence of an accident. I left without using the toilet, and started work on some papers that were due, but not until after a hearty breakfast with a small cup of water. For the next two hours, I did what I could to keep my mind off things and my body from giving in, from homework to exercise, to plain old stretching and squirming. These first two hours passed without a hitch, but the urgency with which I wanted -no, needed- to pee was increasing. I had completed most of my schoolwork, and the prospect of just delaying for three more hours seemed like too much bladder torture. So I decided to take a break from my dorm life for a bit and come back later, instead going for a stroll around campus, feeling my very full bladder bounce up and down. It would be just exciting and public enough to keep me on edge without getting too stale or risking involving anyone else. I squared my shoulders and left the building, hoping my arousal and need to pee weren't too obvious, though I suppose the masks we all wear now afford us a limited anonymity. I had been wandering around for about half an hour when I first felt the need to truly cross my legs. Pretending to check my phone (and actually checking the time) I leaned against the wall of one of the many campus buildings and casually kicked one leg over the other. After I regained my composure, I knew I had to find a way to spend even more time, so I sat down and started doing some freelance work. At the top of the hour, making it three of the five allotted, it occurred to me that I could naturally force myself away from a bathroom by going to lunch - well, more like brunch, as it was only 10:15 AM at this point. I felt my kidneys in overdrive, pushing what seemed like vast quantities of urine through my system. I walked, maybe stiffer than normal, to one of the dining halls to grab some food. As I waited in line, I noticed something rather coincidental - a woman in front of me was crossing and uncrossing her legs, bouncing up and down on her feet. At one point, she seemed to freeze up, and the person twelve feet in front of her and six feet behind her had to tell her to move forward. Internally, I smiled, knowing I wasn't the only one. I knew I could hold it. I got my food and brought it back to the dorm, neglecting to check the time as I washed my hands, the soapy water running over my hands, reminding me of my predicament. I nervously ate my macaroni, thinking about its color's similarity to that of dehydrated urine. Not only that, but it made me thirsty, and I watched with anticipation and dread as I filled yet another glass. Then, I was overcome with what can only be described as chagrin, because as my phone reminded me, I had passed 12:17 PM, and had actually waited until 12:45 - I had class in 15 minutes! I hastily packed my bag, collected my phone, wallet, watch, and portable sanitizer, grabbed my mask and got my shoes on, my bladder aching all the while. 12:50 - 10 minutes left, but I knew I could sprint across campus in five minutes if need be, since I'd done it the week before. I rushed into the bathroom, prepared to let it all go, imagining the sweet relief, but as most of you know, cortisol, nerves, vasopressin, and the lymphatic system's direction of the bladder don't mix. I was destined for a loss of control, but it happened in the wrong direction - my urethra refused to open, and I was frozen until I checked the time. I had to leave for a class that would take at least 50 minutes, and my bladder was tired of being ignored. I ran down four flights of stairs and across campus, with the ever-present discomfort of my bladder reminding me that the situation I was in was entirely my own fault. I climbed three more flights of stairs to the classroom, and one minute before roll call, wiped down and sat in my seat. I'm not one to involve others unwillingly in my fetish, so of course I continued trying to hold on, finding ways to discreetly put pressure on my private area to stymie the potential flood. I settled for sitting in a bit of an awkward position, with my left hand beneath my right thigh, my forearm across the location of interest. If I had peed any here, it would have been an honest to God, bona fide, involuntary accident. I considered folding up my flannel and putting it underneath me, just in case, but decided against drawing too much attention to myself. I put my nose to the grindstone and got to work, shifting my weight in opposite directions from time to time. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, I watched the minute hand pass fifty, and I could finally leave. I rose from my chair with as much dignity as I could muster, considering that my bladder now held nearly 13 hours worth of produced urine. A few people looked at me, probably due to how quickly I stood up, and I became glad the mask I was wearing hid my blushing cheeks. I walked back to my residence hall, shakily presented my ID card, jammed a hand in my crotch as soon as I entered the stairwell, and sprinted up the four flights of stairs to my dorm with my hand between my legs. I slid the card in and out too quickly - denied. I did it again and entered the room, wasting no time in rushing to the bathroom. A small wet spot was beginning to form on my compression boxers, but as I entered the sanctity of the porcelain throne room, I practically tore off the bottom half of my clothes, preventing further damage. I started leaking, though there were no longer any clothes on my bottom half. Then, I voluntarily released my bladder from its holding contract and peed like a firehose for (I timed it in my head) a full minute and forty-five seconds at the least, and two minutes twenty seconds at the most. I audibly sighed with near-orgasmic bliss, my glasses sliding down my face, my hair tousled from the wind rushing past as I sprinted around campus, my back slumped as I sat on the toilet, for I was far too tired to stand. I glanced around at the wreckage strewn across the floor. The dampness on the shorts was unnoticeable, mostly indistinguishable from all the sweat, only a bit darker. There were a few light yellow drops on the floor, too, but for all intents and purposes, I had done it. I had made it to not only twelve, but thirteen hours. Breathing more quietly now, I climbed back into my undergarment and its accompanying shorts, flushed the toilet, and washed my hands. Finally, I sat down at my desk and took a nice, long sip of water.

Edited by Empeeror
Male tag missing (see edit history)
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When you're young, your bladder is more flexible than you might expect!  You say that your bladder holds only 600 mL, but you obviously peed out substantially more, probably over a liter.  Next time you should measure, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Holding your pee as you go about your daily activities can be an exciting challenge, and that's what motivates some of us here.  It's our secret pleasure!

 

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