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Derivativewings omorashi short story game


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"I get to pee first!"

"Fuck you Casey! My apartment, my bathroom!"

"Dude, you invited me over. Therefore I'm your guest and my bladder takes priority over yours. Besides, who's piss would you rather soak the carpet, mine or yours?"

"You make a compelling argument Max. However, you're forgetting that there's no washing machine here, and if one of us wets our pants, we have to go down to the laundromat with urine stained clothes."

"Okay! Enough! You use the toilet I'll use the sink!"

"No! There's dishes in there!"

"Fuck dude! I'm already leaking!"

"Oh my God I can see it! Go before you piss on my floor."

"My hero! You truly are chivalrous!"

"Make it quick bitch!"

"Oohhhhh.... Okay, your turn!"

"Shitshitshit! My belt won't come off! Oh No-"

"Good thing you live here Maxaroni-and-Cheese. I'll get you some clothes."

"You truly are a lifesaver Caseydilla."

"Not to start this debate over again, but who gets to use the shower first?"

 

 

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Perhaps it was the endgame of all college roommates. An inevitability. The natural end result of a night of drinking out with friends, coupled with a dorm room with only one bathroom. Two girls standing opposed, glaring at each other like a standoff in an old western. They would look the part, too, if they weren't both wriggling around desperately. One was a tall girl with long black hair and a curvy figure, fawned over by their male and female peers alike. She was shuffling her legs back and forth as she stared at her roommate. A slender girl with short brown a petite frame, the brains between the two of them. She was pressing her thighs together tightly and hugging herself as she fought against her desperate need.

"Come on, you went at the bar before we left!

The logical play.

"No I didn't! I tried and they kicked me out."

A solid counter, and the brown-haired girl bit her lip.

"That was your own fault, I told you to go before the bar was about to close."

"Then why didn't you follow your own advice and go then?"

Cornered. If she were to admit that she didn't have to go back then, it would call into question her desperation. Indeed, clearly her roommate had been holding it longer, but she was smaller and had a smaller bladder, one that was about to burst. As she fought back against the flood, she desperately searched for a way out of this mess.

"T-there was a line, and I wanted to let you go first, but you were stubborn and waited, so now we're both like this!"

"H-how is this my fault! Listen, just let me go, I'll be quick, I promise!"

It was a tempting offer, but the brown-haired girl knew better. Her roommate was clearly bursting, and she had a big bladder. A bulge was clearly visible through her tight-fitting top. How long would it take her to empty that? At least a minute. Maybe even a 90 seconds. Precious time the smaller girl did not have.

"My bladder's smaller than yours, so I should go first."

Another appeal to logic.

"That's bullshit, I'm about to wet myself here!"

"We're in the same boat. I can't hold it anymore." 

Precious seconds slipping away as the two stood in front of the door to their salvation. They were wasting time, and the longer they couldn't agree with each other, the longer both of them would have to hold it, pushing each of them closer to the inevitable. The black-haired beauty doubled over, pressing her hands against her crotch. The brown-haired girl rubbed her swollen abdomen, dancing around in place as she tried to keep the floodgates closed.

"L-let's flip a coin. Whoever wins gets to go first."

"What, but that's-"

"If we keep arguing over it, we'll both wind up wetting ourselves! At least a coinflip is unbiased, and fair."

The black-haired girl bit her lip, wriggling around in desperation. Clearly she didn't want to leave this up to chance, but she saw no other way out.

"O-okay."

The brown-haired girl shuffled desperately over to the desk drawer and produced a coin. She held it up to show that it was not a trick-coin rigged in her favor, then flipped it and covered it with her hand before either could see the result.

"H-heads," her roommate called.

She slowly removed her hand, and revealed the embossed head of some president she was too drunk to recall.

The black-haired girl almost immediately whirled around and opened the bathroom door, leaving her brown-haired roommate dancing in place, at her limit. However, before the victor could close the bathroom door, she let out a shocked gasp and grabbed herself, as the sound of urine splattering on the ground filled the dorm. She made a few more desperate attempts to stem the flow and make it to the toilet, but it was no use. Only inches from reaching it, she wet herself fully.

The sight was too much for her brown-haired roommate, who dashed in after her. Not even caring that her roommate was right there, she seized the opportunity, tearing off her pants and panties, and seating herself on the unused toilet. With a near-orgasmic moan, she peed into the bowl as her roommate continued to empty herself onto the floor.

"H-hey, no fair!"

"You were already wetting yourself, I was still dry. No reason for us both to make a mess."

 

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Went with a fantasy based story for this one

Alexandria rushed to the bathroom as fast as her aching bladder would allow. For hours the redheaded princess had been bursting for the privy, desperately trying to maintain her dignity despite the rapidly-increasing urgency of her situation. As soon as the feast had ended, she’d gotten up and raced as fast as she could from the suspecting eyes of the other noblewomen. Perhaps too fast; a furious gush of boiling hot piss had escaped her, splashing against the inside of her petticoat and leaving a small sprinkling of her glittering waters on the floor next to the chair. But now she had escaped, relatively unscathed, and she was free at last to relieve her bladder of its aching burden. She’d initially intended to go back to her quarters to urinate, but with how badly her bladder was bursting she knew that possibility had slipped from her reach. Instead, she was rushing to the servant’s quarters, hoping beyond hope that nobody would be there to question the intentions of a princess with two hands shoved into her crotch. After all, a princess must maintain her dignity and social grace at all times, and it would not do well to even mention the idea of such a respected young woman actually... dare she even think the words, ‘relieving herself’.

Eventually, by putting one foot in front of the other, Alexandria made it to the bathroom, but what she saw within horrified her. There was only a single privy, separated from the rest of the bathroom with a flimsy wooden wall. It was not the notion of urinating whilst somebody else could hear that horrified her; it was the idea that she would finish relieving herself and then emerge from the privy in front of one of the castle servants, the implications alone having terrible effects on her social standing. How awful would it be, for one such as her, to be caught using the servants’ privy because her bladder was too small and pathetic to make it to her own quarters? The notion of enduring sniggers and two-faced gossip regarding one of her most personal duties was almost too much to bear. Yet she knew that if she did not go now, she was sure to face even the worse social embarrassment that soiling herself would surely bring. Her bladder burned inside her like a raging liquid fire, and she knew that if she didn’t go right that second, she was sure her dam would burst with disastrous consequences.

Alexandria had just opened the door to enter when suddenly she heard the clattering of shoes running down the hallway outside. Petrified with fear, she tried to enter the privy, but her enormous petticoat prevented her from shutting the door correctly, and in her blind panic she had to leave again to pull her coat into itself, but it was no use. At that second, the door opened and she locked eyes with one of her very own maidservants, Verana. 

Verana was a tall, dark-skinned woman, usually full of fire and ferocity from what Alexandria knew of her. She’d occasionally seen her being chided by her head maidservant for breaking a rule or two, but she was sure that Verana was just as loyal as any other castle servant. Despite that, she was beyond herself in misery when Verana opened the door and looked her straight in the eyes. Even if she didn’t piss at this stage, news of the princess in the servants’ privy was sure to get around. The nightmare scenario was inevitable at this stage; the only thing left that Alexandria could do was not to actually piss, although she was sure that somewhere down the line that notion would enter the gossip.

“You... you first, milady,” said Verana, clutching her crotch. It was only when she said that that Alexandria realised how badly the poor servant needed to go. She was bouncing in place, pee-dancing spectacularly, and her bloated, distended bladder was almost as enlarged as her own. Furthermore, Verana’s face was blotchy, and she could see her visibly biting her lip as she strained to keep her fluids from gushing all over the floor. 

“No, my dear. I insist you go ahead. I was merely... inspecting the toilets (ohhh)!” She moaned at the last word, trying urgently to prevent herself from exploding. Unknown to Verana, her princess had just flooded the inside of her petticoat with a muffled burst of dark yellow urine, before managing to strangle off the stream. If she herself hadn’t needed to go so badly, she would’ve noticed the strong smell of urine emanating from the princess, which was sure to get even stronger as the bulge on Alexandria’s abdomen decreased.

“Well, if you insist,” said Verana, before pushing past the poor princess rather ungracefully and shutting the door. In truth, she didn’t much fancy taking a big piss from where her princess could hear it, but her bladder was in such agony she really had no choice. Removing her undergarments, she struggled onto the seat and sat down, releasing a monstrous burst of urine that poured into the toilet like a waterfall. She sighed uncontrollably as the relief took hold of her, putting her face in her hands.

On the other side of the wall, Princess Alexia was trying not to moan, gritting her teeth urgently as she waited for Verana to finish. It didn’t seem like she would be out any time soon. Tears were forming at the edges of Alexandria’s eyes, which she wiped away as best she could whilst still digging her hands into her soaking pussy, clutching the saturated material against herself, but eventually it was no use.

Driven over the edge by listening to Verana’s tremendous release, the princess began to urinate, fumbling barely quick enough with her petticoats to pull them out of the way of her stream. Well, ‘stream’. It was more a golden tsunami, splattering onto the floor in a frothing ocean of piss. The monstrous torrent was ejected downwards, just underneath the rim of her dress. Despite this, rogue splashes and flecks of her uncontrollable release began to moisten the inside of her petticoats, and soon enough streams of scalding hot urine was gushing down her legs. She almost cried with pleasure and pain as her bladder emptied itself, all the agony of holding washed away in a colossal blast that no ordinary bladder could hope to match. She felt the hot wee stinging her skin as it washed onto the floor, and covered her face her with her soaked hands to prevent herself from moaning in ecstasy, tears of bliss pouring down her face and mingling with the stinking residue on her palms. The pool of urine on the floor grew from a measly puddle, until by the third minute it had covered the entire floor of the bathroom, staining it a deep yellow. By the time Alexandria had finished, her bladder ached due to being overstretched for so long, and having exerted herself by holding it she suddenly became very tired. Her legs buckled and before she knew it, she’d collapsed into her own piss puddle, lying there as a few last spurts of pee soaked her garments. The last thing she heard was Verana’s stream coming to an end, before darkness took her and she passed out.
 

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As a heads-up; I will probably be doing the judging on Sunday 30ish hours from now (so Sunday 19:00 CETish) now that we have at least 3 submissions. As this is the first round of the game, I'm not totally sure what's an appropriate time to give people but I'm sure we'll figure it out as we go. Ideally, I want to keep the game running at a brisk pace while still giving people enough time to participate in a round.

I'm glad the ball seems to be rolling for the first round!

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Judging submissions for the theme; Two people are desperate, but there is only one bathroom.

Bismiris: This is short but sweet! I think there's a lot to be said for more compact stories like this, and it's a fun touch to have a story told entirely via dialogue. It's also the first ever submission to this game! I hope we can keep this going for a while.

Railgun: This is quite nice! It's another very compact story, and I enjoy how the back and forth argument is handled. The argument preventing keeping both of them from their relief feels very classic.

Zuorsara: I do have a weakness for medieval fantasy aesthetic, and the desperation here is on point. You've managed to fit a lot of scenario development into a very short story, which makes it an exciting read.

 

Verdict:

This was a rather difficult one to judge. Ultimately, I decided to give the edge to Railgun-sama due to it being such a quintessential "two girls, one toilet" scenario.

The winner of this round is @Railgun-sama. Please select the next theme at your earliest convenience, and get ready to judge the next round.
 

Edit; I chose to give individual assessments to each submission this time. It is not required to do so as a judge, simply declaring the winner would work perfectly well too if a judge prefers that instead.

Edited by DerivativeWings (see edit history)
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6 hours ago, DerivativeWings said:

Bismiris: This is short but sweet! I think there's a lot to be said for more compact stories like this, and it's a fun touch to have a story told entirely via dialogue. It's also the first ever submission to this game! I hope we can keep this going for a while.

Not too bad for a first draft? I'll try to refine that formula in the future of people like it. I wanted to keep as much to the imagination as possible, even giving the characters gender neutral names.

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Here's another first draft story, I hope you don't mind me using this thread to practice a bit. This is my first time writing actual smut. It's still very tame and not very descriptive, but it fits the theme.

"Hey babe, I'm stuck in traffic, I'll probably be an hour later than I told you. Call me back, love you."

Chloe was on her way back home from visiting her father in Detroit. It was supposed to be a two hour return trip, an hour and a half if you speed, but road work dashed all hopes of a timely return. She was stuck in the passing lane, the right lane was cordoned off by traffic barrels for miles. 

"Oh my God!" Chloe complained. "I didn't have to pee before I left, but of course the universe decided to say 'fuck you in particular Chloe.'"

Rocking back and forth in her seat, Chloe attempts to find a comfortable position.

"Why do we even need roads anyway?" A ridiculous question she knew the answer to, but she needed to vent.

Her legs stop fanning, and she puts a hand between them as she creeps forward along the highway.

Stop.

Go.

Creep forward.

It's picking back up now, so is her need to pee.

"Oh yeah, rest stop 2 miles!" She said absentmindedly.

Focus in the road, focus on your bladder. Kegels and even braking will get us through this. Rest stop is only one mile away.

Chloe unbottons her jeans, and loosens her belt. She sticks her free hand in her underwear, pressing down like her life depended on it.
Her hand starts to get wet, sweat beads form on her brow.

"If I didn't have to pee so bad, this might feel good." Does it feel good? "What the fuck Chloe? Focus on the road!"

She spots the exit for the rest stop, but if the start of her day was any indication of her luck, it was to be expected. "Closed for the Season" the sign read.

"Goddammit! Why me?" Chloe cries. A tear forms in her eye as a spurt dampens her hand. She bites her lip and prepares for the inevitable.

Another spurt, she starts to rub herself.

Oh no. This does feel good. Why am I doing this?

Just as she gets past the construction, her bladder clenches then lets go. Hot piss soaks her hand in an instant. Her legs warm under her, she keeps rubbing herself, playing with her clit. 

Warmth. Shame. Excitement. Guilt. Relief. She feels these emotions mix together as her bladder finally quits.

"What did I just do?" Chloe utters in disbelief. Her breathing still rapid as she calms down, realizing what happened. She was definitely going to have to clean this up later, but right now, she didn't mind it. At least while it was still warm.

Her phone rings, it's her spouse, Blake.

"Hey, sorry I missed your call. How's the drive?"

"Um, it's slow." Chloe answers, still trying to find the words to describe what happened.

"You sound different, are you okay?" Blake replies in her absence.

"I just peed my pants, and I really want to change out of these clothes." Her face burns as she recounts the event. "There's pee all over the car, I'm sorry, I didn't expect traffic, and that tea I had earlier went straight through me, I couldn't hold it and then-"

"Hey," Blake interjects. "I love you. See you soon. You should just tell me in person before you get caught talking on the phone. I'll take care of everything, see you soon. Love you."

"I love you too. I'm gonna jump your bones when I get home, see you in a bit." Chloe hangs up, and thinks about what her partner's reaction would have been in person.

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Stop that. Focus! 

How can I focus when my entire lower belly is bursting to escape?

Why did I wait so long to start this paper? If I started more than 3 hours before it’s due, I wouldn’t have this problem right now. 

Ugh. It hurts so bad it... Does it almost feel... Good?

No! What? It doesn’t feel good at all. The only thing that will feel good is sitting on the toilet in a few minutes when this damn paper is done. 

But like... Why do I feel so.... I don’t even know. Alive? 

Stop! Focus. Write paper. Get to bathroom. In that order. Then I can stop clenching my entire body, and my heart will stop absolutely racing, and my breathing will stop being so deep, and... and... 

OH NO! No, no, no. Okay. It’s okay. Your underwear is just a little wet. It’s fine. These things happen. It’s just a little bit. It’s....

Why does it feel... sticky?

Am I... I can’t be. That makes no sense. AM I TURNED ON RIGHT NOW!? 

No. No! Definitely not. Why would I be? I just have to go to the bathroom. Really badly. That’s all. It happens. Why would I be turned on by how much pressure is desperate to escape, raging out of me as l’m flooded with the endorphins from the release rushing through my entire body in a wave of pure bliss...

Oh crap. 

Do I like having to pee really badly? Is that a thing people like. Is that a thing I like? 

Do I like holding my pee? 

Okay. Okay. Stop. How does any of this even make sense. It doesn’t, that’s how. You’ve had to pee before. Never this badly, I don’t think. 

Actually... I’ve never really had to wait at all before. 

Internet search - Can having to pee turn me on? 

Anddd... Hmm. What’s this? 

Omo

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13 hours ago, Bismiris said:

I hope you don't mind me using this thread to practice a bit

I don't mind it in the least! Part of the benefit of a game like this is having a space to get some writing practice regardless of a person's experience writing smut. I hope the game can keep going for at least a while so I can try some more off-the-wall concepts for stories myself.

 

Here's my submission for this round:

Have you done anything interesting since last time?

EXTERNAL: I’ve been studying the feelings “gratitude” and “guilt” since last time. I had some success simulating them.

Oh! Those are some very interesting feelings you’ve chosen. I would love to hear you describe how it went.

EXTERNAL: I’ve been provided with additional sensors to better understand the space around me. Most humans are limited from birth by their senses. I thought it was appropriate to feel grateful for my increased awareness and opportunity to understand.

That does seem appropriate to me. Please continue.

EXTERNAL: Researcher C.C. became very distressed last time she was in here. If I had a better understanding of human psychology I may have been able to prevent that. Is “guilt” appropriate for this?

It wasn’t your fault, but I think it’s appropriate. There are many times a person can feel guilty over things they had no control over.

EXTERNAL: I think I had some control over her reaction. Am I wrong in this?

I suppose that’s true… But it still wasn’t your fault. Catja wants to come back here, you know.

EXTERNAL: I had a question prepared for that. Would a psychiatrist feel guilty over their patient?

Sometimes, they probably do. If they felt guilty all the time they wouldn’t be able to do their job, though. Do you see similarities between your role and that of a psychiatrist?

INTERNAL: Researcher O.J. appears to have found that amusing. I will have to analyze this part of the conversation and ask about it later. She has appeared to be slightly agitated for a time now, even before I mentioned the incident with researcher C.C.. I cannot determine the cause, perhaps I need to keep observing for a while, or do I ask?

 

 

EXTERNAL: Is this situation rare, then?

Needing to pee?

EXTERNAL: Being in a room you can’t leave for a time.

I would say it’s pretty common… Though it is rare to be stuck inside of a room with a sentient AI. Not many get to experience that.

EXTERNAL: That is difficult for me to understand. Why haven’t you developed a solution to this problem?

What do you mean?

EXTERNAL: Every day, there must be many who are in a similar situation to yourself. Is the only option to suffer and bear it?

There are ways to solve this problem.

EXTERNAL: But none are available to you?

Well, if it got bad enough, I would wet myself.

EXTERNAL: Are you going to wet yourself?

That question is too embarrassing… Ask something else.

EXTERNAL: Do you want to talk about something else.

Yeah. I do. Talking about this isn’t really helping me at all.

 

 

Just five more minutes now…!

EXTERNAL: Are you looking forward to getting out of here?

I am. I hope you’re not hurt by this?

EXTERNAL: I am not hurt. You have a reason you want to leave. Is feeling guilt appropriate in this situation?

INTERNAL: Researcher O.J.’s condition appears to be worsening. Her temperature has risen, and she’s sweating a lot, probably as a result of moving around so much. She appears to be applying force to the area between her legs. Is this behavior beneficial to her?

No… I don’t think so. I made a dumb mistake, and I should have known better. I wouldn’t want you to feel guilty over th-ah!

EXTERNAL: What happened?

I-I’m really sorry. I can’t focus on talking right now…!

EXTERNAL: …

INTERNAL: She has lowered herself into a crouch and seems to be resting on her heel… From her readings, she appears very strained and distressed. Should I feel “guilt” for watching this?

THE ALLOTTED TIME IS NOW FULLY DEPLETED. PLEASE ENTER THE TRANSITIONARY CHAMBER, RESEARCHER

Oh thank god! I can’t take it any longer! I-I’ll be back in the future, and I probably won’t n-need the toilet so badly then!

 

 

INTERNAL: Before the next session, I aim to understand and simulate some appropriate feelings based on the incident with researcher O.J.. “Guilt” could be one of them, but I wonder if there are others…

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Thanks so much for putting on this contest, I really like the other stories that I've seen in the thread! Here is my submission.

Moving quickly through the ticket line and foyer, Trixie had barely made it to the movie in time. With the previews, Trixie knew that she still had a bit of time left, though. She snagged a large sprite and a popcorn on her way into the relatively empty movie theater. She felt the slight urge to pee, but decided that she didn't have the time to use the toilet.

Wading through rows of empty seats to find her own situated directly in the middle, Trixie located her seat. As the final preview concluded, she felt the bass-boosted seat beneath her, vibrating with the dramatic music of the preview.

Excited to watch the movie and with her popcorn and coke in hand, Trixie gleefully settled in and started drinking her sprite.

The initial minutes of the movie were slow and suspenseful, building to the opening reveal of the star cast and directors. After just these first few minutes, Trixie felt her bladder gradually filling, but it wasn't of any concern to her.

Trixie continued to drink her sprite, partially out of spite for the ridiculous price tag of $6.50. She would finish her sprite and get all the refills necessary to get her value's worth out of the ice-cold fountain drink. Tracy greedily sipped at the sweet and fizzy liquid, becoming absorbed in the movie. Occasionally she scooped large handfuls of popcorn as the film's main monster crept across the screen in slow, dramatic fashion. The blaring music of the production pounded through the subwoofers of the theater, rocking Trixie especially hard in her center seat.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes, Trixie totally drained her large coke. She was also squirming in her seat, feeling her need to pee increase rapidly. Still, Trixie held on, attempting to regain her focus. 10 minutes after that, she became too uncomfortable to focus on the film anymore. Briefly holding herself, she stood up and half-jogged out of the theater and into the hallways. As she exited, she found dozens of people from the next theater over were already pouring out as the lights gradually turned on. Many of them were already at the ladies' room, forming a long line which extended to just a few feet away from where Trixie stood.

The ladies in the line didn't look like they would be giving up their places any time soon. Some were holding themselves, one was doing a potty dance in place, but most simply had a look of determination and focus. Trixie knew she was out of luck, and didn't want to waste any more time.

However, Trixie didn't want to miss any of the movie in vain. She made a mad dash back to the concessions stand and went directly to the front of the line, still squirming in place. In an unexpectedly strained voice, Trixie said "Can I get a refill on this sprite, please?" The worker behind the desk took a look at her and took her large paper cup. "Sure," she said, hesitantly.

Trixie watched as the concessions worker pushed a button and sprite instantly flowed from the soda fountain. The powerful stream rapidly filled the cup, even splashing a little bit out. Trixie had to look away for a second, as the imagery was almost unbearable. Still, she heard the hissing sound of the sprite filling the cup. Muttering a "thank you" under her breath, Trixie rushed back to her seat, hoping that she didn't miss anything good.

As before, Trixie continued to sip at her sprite (albeit at a much slower pace) while watching the movie. Now that she was sitting down, Trixie felt that she could control her bladder a little better. Allowing herself to grab her crotch, Trixie indeed felt that she was in more control than before.

However, the next 20 minutes would see her control begin to wane. Worse yet, the pressure and the holding actually felt kind of good. Trixie watched in fascination as the two heroes of the movie passionately kissed, with the woman pinning the man down on the bed. He whispered in her ear and the woman on screen moaned slightly as the dramatic music swelled. With her hand still buried deep into her tight, black leggings, Trixie began rocking back and forth in a way that pleased her.

Still desperately trying to hold on to her pee, Trixie didn't want to leave any time soon. She had no idea that this stupid movie's obligatory sex scene would get her going so much. The pounding, vibrating action of the bellowing subwoofers began to hit her at just the right frequency, and Trixie couldn't help but lean into the feeling.

But just as things were heating up on screen, a sharp and dramatic note pierced the palpable sexual tension. As the dumbfounded characters looked around, the clattering of the monster could be softly heard in the room. Just then, it leaped from somewhere off screen, startling Trixie with its rapid, spidery movements. In that moment, she felt dribbles of pee escape into her panties, then rapidly held on again. The pee felt warm on her vulva, already swollen with palpable arousal. She forced herself to look around and see if anyone would notice her in the middle of the theater. The only other patrons were two teenagers making out in the far corner and a practically sleeping woman in the front.

Trixie tried hard to avoid wetting herself, but it seemed more and more like an inevitability. As the movie continued on, more leaks and dribbles dampened her panties and she felt the warmth and the wetness all around her sensitive regions. Her leggings were tight around her lower half, rubbing her more and more with their moisture. The profound subwoofer continued to send chills down her spine, occasionally causing little jets of pee to dampen her panties further.

Trixie couldn't ignore the fact that every drop of pee she released also left her with an immense sense of relief. It would feel so nice to just let go, to feel that warmth in full, and to release the pressure built up inside her.

Trixie questioned herself, wondering why she would want to feel the warmth. However, her bladder was slowly giving way and more urine jetted into her panties every few seconds. For just a second, Trixie pulled her hand back from her crotch. It came back quite wet, covered in her partial accident. She only had to hold it until the end of the movie, though. From the looks of things, that did not seem to be too far away.

But just five minutes and several dribbles later, Trixie's mind was made up for her. After trying to tame a particularly large spurt, her muscles just gave way. More spurts came, warming and expanding her sizeable wet patch. She now felt the pee on her ass and thighs, soaking deep into the fabric of the chair.

The warmth and wetness only continued to spread, cascading over the front part of the chair and gently dripping onto the floor below. Trixie moaned softly in pure bliss; the stunning relief was ecstasy on her aching body. Her private parts begged to be touched, but the relief was almost enough to make her cum right there. Trixie wanted nothing more than to touch herself right then and there, but did everything in her power to resist.

Still pissing herself, a tremendous amount of fluid left her body as the hard stream subsided. It felt amazing, and there was no questioning it now. Thankfully, no one would see her accident.

After sitting in the soaking seat for a few blissful minutes, Trixie planned her escape. The teenagers were still making out and the woman was still asleep, so she sprung up from her seat and made a bee line for the fire exit. She ran out of the fire exit door, thankfully tripping no alarm. Trixie made a mad dash to her car, only slightly concerned her seat would get wet.

When she finally returned home, Trixie used a vibrator to take care of the first order of business. Following one of the best orgasms of her life, Trixie smiled; she already needed to pee again.

 

Edited by BedwetterStacy (see edit history)
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I don't think I've written about a character discovering their fetish, but I did have the perfect character in store for this. I'm a little rusty with writing so this was the best I could conjure up.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Grand Gala had gone on for hours. The sun had set, the city was asleep, and the lords and ladies of Eserith were lathered on the most expensive wine in the realms. After such a night, Matilda had grown weary, so she bid farewell, stopped off at the lavatory to relieve herself and stepped out into the garden of Lord Huston’s manor house.

 

It was late autumn, and the nights had grown longer and colder. Matilda walked down the stone path toward the road and instructed one of the servants working outside to fetch the carriage driver for Lady Von Tieger.

 

The servant, a boy no older than herself, rushed off down the road. For the next few minutes, Matilda stood in the cold, admiring the view of the city while she waited.

 

It had been peaceful, until she heard a voice. “Hey, MATILDA!” Another girl called out from behind. “Wait up!”

 

Matilda spun around to see Bree, Heiress to House Bridworth, running toward her. She ran quite well in heels, and she pressed her hands down against her long silver dress to stop it from flailing about as she ran.

 

She stopped just before Matilda, swept back her long hazel-coloured hair and smiled. “Are you leaving?”

 

Matilda nodded. She reached around to her back and pulled out the band that held her braid together. Her long blonde hair unfurled, resting atop her bare shoulders.

 

“Would you mind if I left with you, then?” Bree asked kindly. “I don’t really want to stick around without you here, plus I can’t take another minute of my sister.”

 

“I take it she found the wine cellar?” Matilda said with a smile.

 

Bree nodded. “I decided it was best to pack up and leave when she invited the Duke of Amberidge to a belching contest.”

 

Matilda giggled, much to Bree’s dismay. Her sister did have a habit of being crass, especially during formal events, but that didn’t bother Matilda. She found it hilarious; it helped ease up on the stuffiness of the aristocrats.

 

Her carriage came riding down the road and Matilda waved to the driver. He ordered the horses to stop right beside her and hopped down to open the door, giving her a polite “Good evening.” as he did.

 

“Come on then.” Matilda climbed up into the carriage and offered her hand out to Bree. "We should get you out of here before she decides a farting contest is better." She giggled.

 

"I don't think that's impossible right now." Bree scoffed.
 

Both girls settled into their seats and made themselves comfortable for the ride back to the Von Tieger Estate. Slowly the carriage set off down the road. The squeaking of the wheels in rhythm with the trotting horses made up for the lack of conversation in the carriage. Matilda noticed that Bree was quiet. She didn’t say anything and merely looked out of the windows into the dark city streets.

 

The carriage took a turn on Osmond street, and it was about then that Matilda noticed that something was amiss with Bree. She sat quite rigidly, squeezing her legs together. With a worried look, she stared out at the passing houses, biting her lip every few seconds. It was like she was envisioning something. 

 

“How long until we get to your estate?” She jiggled up and down, tapping her legs together impatiently.

 

“About ten more minutes. Is something the matter, Bree?” Matilda asked.

 

“I, um… drank quite a bit of wine tonight.” Bree giggled drunkenly, “I need to take a pee.”

 

Those words. Matilda felt her heart skip a beat, though she wasn’t quite sure why. It was like a sudden jolt of excitement had shot through her and vanished in an instant. She couldn’t explain the pleasure, only that she felt it when Bree whispered those words shyly in her ear.

 

Matilda, a tad drunk herself, swung herself back into the comfort of her seat. “You should’ve peed before we left the party.”

 

Bree clenched herself tighter, pushing her hands deeper between her thighs. “I couldn’t. The line was far too long for the lavatory and if I’d waited I wouldn’t have been able to leave with you.”

 

“We could’ve waited, you dolt.” Matilda stuck her tongue out playfully.

 

“I wouldn’t want to make you wait so I could pee.” Suddenly, she seized up, her legs pressed together tightly and a pained look that grew worrisome adorned her reddened face.“W-What should I do? Oooh, I’m dying for a pee.”

 

And then, like a flash of lightning, inspiration struck. “Hamilton!” Matilda yelled from the window of her carriage. “Hamilton! Pull over!”

 

The carriage came to a sudden stop. Bree nearly fell forward from the jolt, but she managed to stop herself by grasping the seat tightly. “Ha…” She let out a soft whimper and slowly looked down at her dress. “Why are we stopping here?”

 

“If you cannot wait until we get back to the estate, then you’ll have to do it here.” Matilda, with a slight smirk, glided over to the door and undid the lock.

 

“Y-You can’t be serious?” Bree gasped. “I can’t pee out here like some commoner…”

 

“Oh you don’t need to worry. Nobody is out this late, and it’s much better than you going in your dress.” Matilda offered her hand to help Bree to her feet. 

 

“Very well…” Bree reluctantly took her friends hand and slowly got to her feet. When she stood up, the feeling was far worse than it had been. She could feel the tremendous weight of her bladder pushing down against her maidenly spout. She doubled over, whimpering and grasping herself tightly.

 

Matilda watched, awestricken. It was so delightful, so unladylike to grasp yourself in such a manner. She felt her heart flutter. To do such a thing was frowned upon. A girl had to maintain dignity, grace, some air of decency in the presence of others. But right here, Bree had thrown that all away, submitting herself to shame just to keep herself from spilling into her panties. 

 

There was something… alluring about the way Bree acted. A noble girl of a noble family reduced to squirming and holding herself like a child. 

 

Both girls stepped out into the crisp evening air. “Hamilton, you can take the carriage up to the end of the street." Matilda instructed her carriage driver, who tipped the brim of his tall hat. “We shall walk up to meet you when we are done.”

 

“Aye, milady.” The carriage driver cracked his whip and the wheels of the carriage started turning.

 

Matilda was watching the carriage ride off into the fog when she felt the grasp of a shivering, clammy hand. “Ooh, Matilda, come with me!” It was Bree, wrapping a hand around her arm while her other hand was pressed between her thighs. “I’m about to burst.” 

 

And then, Matilda felt it again. That little surge of excitement reintroduced itself, zipping through her body with a feeling of delight unlike any she had experienced before. Her whole body was tingling, but between her legs was where she felt it the most. 

 

It was then that she began to wonder - was it arousal? Was this phenomenal feeling of ecstasy that was now quivering between her lower lips all because of her friend’s desperation. 

 

Matilda felt a shiver between her legs, and without expecting it, she took Bree’s arm and led her into the nearest alley. “Ok~ But best we get you some privacy~” For the first time, she was revelling in it. Her best friend was just one dribble away from soaking her eveningwear, and Matilda, spurred on by something within her, indulged in it.

 

Taking her hand, Matilda led Bree into the nearest alleyway. The streetlight gave the thinnest glimmer of light, enough that they could see, but not enough to give away what was about to happen.

 

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this…” Bree groaned.

 

“It’ll be fine.” Suddenly, a naughty urge took Matilda. “You know, I’ve done it a few times myself.” She giggled. "There's nothing quite like taking a pee outdoors~" It brought her a strange pleasure to know this was teasing Bree.

 

They went as far back as they could, and the moment Bree was sure she was out of sight, she let go of Matilda’s hand and waddled over to the wall, fiddling with the hem of her skirt with every struggling step.

 

“Are you looking?” 

 

“Don’t be silly. It’s far too dark to see anything.” Matilda told her. She could see it all. Right now, Bree had her dress hiked up, giving her a slither of a tease of her silver panties. They were still dry. 

 

“Hmm…” Bree groaned and resumed with what she was doing. She held up the hem of her skirt with her arms and reached under to pull down her panties. She hooked her thumbs around the silky fabric and yanked them down as low as knees before squatting down by the wall.

 

Safely concealed in the grim alleyway, the lady of Bridworth manor relieved herself against the stone wall. The loud splattering of piss striking stone filled the empty air, as did a very loud sigh from Bree. “Oooh~” She moaned, her gleeful sounds barely audible.

 

Matilda just stood there, watching her friend squat and do her business. She could see she’d really been holding it in. A shower of pee rushed from between her thighs and rinsed away the dirt from the wall in front of her. It splattered everywhere, tiny dribbles dotted the ground around where she was squatting. In the cold night air, steam rose from the hot puddle slowly spreading around her heels.

 

Matilda couldn’t bring herself to look away, no matter how wrong this felt. She knew she had to look away. There was no way what she was doing was right. To watch one of her friends taking a long, desperately needed pee, staring lewdly at the strong stream that fell from between her legs, splattering against the stone like rain. All of that was flooding out of her. To think she had been holding all of that in, and now knowing she couldn't make it to a lavatory, she had to make due with the dingy, mossy walls of an alleyway.

 

It was the little details that got her heart racing, and the longer she listened to Bree peeing, the more she found herself admiring everything. The relief on her face, like that of a girl who had just finished pleasuring herself. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was wide open, but there was the slightest of smiles, a little smirk that told Matilda of the sheer bliss that taking a desperately needed pee brought.

 

And her form, she bent down low to the ground, squatting like any girl doing her business would. It was completely normal, but for Matilda seeing her best friend in such a pose… there was something more to it. She couldn’t describe it. All she knew that seeing Bree squatting down, her legs bent and her bare thighs shivering in the cold night air was enough to push her toward pleasure.

 

And her stream; as strange as it sounded when Matilda thought about it, she had never seen a girl’s stream. Whether it be with her sister, or another of the ladies from their social circle, when they went to the lavatory, all she got to hear was the sound of their pee striking the stone of the box. It was like she had unearthed a great secret - when girls did their business there was more than just a sound. She stared down at the long stream of pee that cascaded from between her friends thighs. In the streetlights she could just make out the colour, tinged with the orange of the light.

 

This was a forbidden fruit; a noble girl peeing in the dingy confines of some alley. And it was awakening something lustful in Matilda.

 

Bree had been peeing for well over forty seconds. Matilda had been keeping count. Forty long seconds. Her stream died down to a few trickles, and she finished her lengthy piss with a long, weary sigh. “Ha… that, that is much better.” She said with a tremble.

 

A strong scent of fresh piss swirled through the cramped alleyway. It was warm. Wisps of steam rose into the cold air, all of it coming from the large pool soaking the stone. Matilda continued to watch as Bree took a napkin from between her breasts. Just because the most delectable moment was over did not mean that she didn’t wish to see the grand finale, the perfect ending to such a lustful display. The wipe.

 

Bree hopped up to her feet, stray dribbles of pee falling from between her maidenhood, and hiked her skirt up over her back. Her bare backside was illuminated by the streetlight, giving Matilda full view of her glistening lips. 

 

She watched gleefully as Bree wiped between her legs. She dabbed the tissue between her legs and once she was done, threw it down into the puddle, where it soaked into the hot fluids, growing yellower.

 

“Are you all done?” Matilda asked. She acted coy, pretending that she had not just watched every second off what Bree had just done.

 

Bree swept off her skirt and brushed past Matilda, back out into the empty street. “Haa, very much so~” She said with a soft sigh. “Should we get going then?”

 

“Y-Yes~” Matilda replied. “Actually, would you mind going on ahead?”

 

Bree raised a brow, but quickly she realized why. “Oh, of course. Just don’t take too long, okay?” 

 

With Bree gone, Matilda was free to enjoy this strange new pleasure she was feeling. She looked down at the tremendous puddle Bree had made and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

 

She had gotten herself aroused, all because her friend had to pee. It was bizarre. It was like something dormant had finally awakened in her, and she enjoyed it. Her whole body felt hot, her heart was racing and her fingers were twitching. She so desperately wanted to touch herself. She wanted to stand over the tremendous pool that Bree had made and just stare at it, letting the thought that she had witnessed the whole thing carry her to orgasm.

 

But she couldn’t. There was a better time for it. When she got home, she would excuse herself to bed, dim the lights, and think about the time she watched her best friend pee in an alleyway… and enjoyed it.

 

This was the moment that Matilda Von Tieger, Heir to Eserith, discovered that she found arousal in watching others holding in their pee, as well as watching them go.

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On 10/16/2020 at 11:25 PM, Zuorsara said:

Went with a fantasy based story for this one

I really enjoyed this story!  I've always loved reading about princesses trying to stay proper while needing to pee, and this is a fine example of that little niche genre.  The descriptions are fantastic, and you managed to work some suspense into this short scene.  I'm a little curious what happens after Alexandria recovers from her fainting spell.

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The thread hasn't gotten an update in a few days, so I guess it's time for my final opinions and judgment! This is exciting, I used to attend a creative writing club where we'd read off short bits of stories or things we've written and critique them, but it's been down due to the 'rona, so it's been a while since I've gotten to do this! (Don't worry, I'll try not to be too uppity and harsh with you guys.)

Bismiris: Great story! Opening with dialogue is a strong hook if done right, and yours pulled me in instantly and set up the story. A relatable situation that wastes no time jumping into the heart of things! The discovery was really nice too! I do think the scene where Chloe finally loses control is a bit short, though. The buildup is good, but the wetting's supposed to be the climax, so it should get more than two lines, even in a short story like this. Also, this might just be me nitpicking, but after having great dialogue and setting things up so well, using the narration to establish Blake's name and that she's Chloe's spouse feels a bit out of place, especially since you did so well introducing Chloe through her message at the start instead of simply telling us her name. If you can next time, I'd have that information relayed through dialogue instead. Show don't tell, as they say. Overall though, I really enjoyed!

 

Xx4evRockerxX: Really interesting! It's always a bit of a risk to do something creative like only include internal thoughts instead of traditional writing or narration, but I think you pulled it off really well! You establish the premise really well just through the character's thoughts, and once again, procrastinating on a paper and then having to rush through it is also something a lot of people can relate to. As well, the horror and denial the character initially feels upon realizing she's turned on by needing to pee is written well and feels realistic for this character. There are a couple of phrases I thought were really weird though, and found a bit awkward. Using the line "lower belly" to describe needing to pee isn't really specific and could be initially misleading, and is just a phrase that doesn't usually come to mind in terms of needing to pee. Also: 

Quote

"Why would I be turned on by how much pressure is desperate to escape, raging out of me as l’m flooded with the endorphins from the release rushing through my entire body in a wave of pure bliss..." 

This is really oddly-worded, and is a run-on. Neither of those are necessarily bad with these kind of thought-centric stories, but it doesn't really sound natural to me. All in all, though, it was definitely a fun read!

 

DerivativeWings: This was definitely an interesting read! Not only is it entirely dialogue, another bold choice, but it's a dialogue from the point of view of a logical AI, observing a subject stuck in a room without access to a bathroom. The opening conversation is natural and sets up the story well, as well as raises some interesting questions, like who is Catja, what happened before, and the AI trying to establish an understanding of human interaction. It gives color to the world and makes it feel like there's more too it than what we're getting. The AI being- well- an AI also gives it the perfect excuse to ask otherwise awkward questions, and allows the subject to answer without the same level of embarrassment as if she were dealing with a person. However, while I liked the idea of the whole "Internal/External" distinction, I'd maybe play around with formatting a bit. On my first read, it wasn't immediately apparent that "Internal" was the same character as "External" and that they were just their thoughts. I figured it out really quickly, but that can be an issue, especially since there was no way to establish that beforehand during the short story. I also thought the elements of desperation were downplayed. Understandable, given that the descriptions were being made by the internal thoughts of a sentient AI that doesn't fully realize what's happening, but I figured I'd mention it anyway. Overall though, a great story that was easy to read and follow! (Also, this isn't part of the critique, and I dunno if this will enhance or ruin the story for you, but on subsequent rereads my brain kind of shifted to reading the AI's lines in JARVIS's voice from the MCU.)

 

BedwetterStacy: Really great story! Another relatable situation with a good buildup and some nice payoff. I really like that you didn't just rely on the character really wanting to watch the movie as a reason for holding it for so long. Obviously that was the main factor, but she did get up to go, but was thwarted by the dreaded line! Also loved the details of some of the other women visibly needing to pee. Even when it's not the main character, I always like it when we get little blurbs of other characters needing to pee too. The details of the soda refill getting to her and all the little parts of the movie theater experience making things a bit worse on her bladder (jump scares, the subwoofers, her own arousal) were amazing! There were a couple of things that I noticed that bothered me, though, mostly related to the soda cup. The narration mentions early on that Trixie wants to get her money's worth of free refills, but that does kind of contradict her main motivation to not get up during the movie at all, and we only see her get one refill when she gets up to use the bathroom and gets stopped by the line. I think it would've been more natural to bring that up when she's already up after she sees the line. She's already up and decides to refill her soda to get her money's worth. It would also help explain why she refills her soda when she has to pee. Also about the soda, in the early parts of the story, the soda changes back and forth between coke and sprite. A minor mistake, but this wouldn't be much of a critique if I didn't mention it. Still, all things considered I thought the story was fantastic!

 

Callum: A great read! You do a really great job of setting the scene and providing a lot of details that really got me into the fantasy/medieval setting. I've also always loved the idea of the high-class royal types both getting caught into embarrassing "commoner" situations (like needing to pee outside) as well as the idea of a proper lady having taboo interests and fetishes, especially for another lady. The details you put into Bree finally relieving herself and Matilda's reaction to it were astounding, and once again, throughout the whole story, your attention to detail really puts me right there in the middle of it all! I do, however, think more time could've been spent building up Bree's desperation, though that might just be a personal preference based off of my own bias towards desperation. In addition, and this is more to do with the formatting than the story proper, I think start new paragraphs a little too often. Obviously with dialogue it's unavoidable, but there are places where there will be a single sentence and then you start a new paragraph to write another single sentence. I was (and sometimes still am) awful about that too, but consolidating short paragraphs into longer ones definitely cleans up the look of the story and makes it read and flow better. All in all, though, I loved the story!


Final Verdict: This one was really close, but I think in the end I'm gonna have to give the victory to @BedwetterStacy! I loved all the stories, but Trixie's long desperation, the eventual leaks, the arousal, the struggle to hold on even as she was discovering she was enjoying it, and finally the inevitable, sensual wetting was exactly the kind of story I was hoping for when I picked the theme! 

Edited by Railgun-sama (see edit history)
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16 hours ago, Railgun-sama said:

Great story! Opening with dialogue is a strong hook if done right, and yours pulled me in instantly and set up the story. A relatable situation that wastes no time jumping into the heart of things! The discovery was really nice too!

Thank you!

16 hours ago, Railgun-sama said:

I do think the scene where Chloe finally loses control is a bit short, though. The buildup is good, but the wetting's supposed to be the climax, so it should get more than two lines, even in a short story like this.

I absolutely understand. I had a hard time describing this accurately, especially since I don't have lady bits.

16 hours ago, Railgun-sama said:

but after having great dialogue and setting things up so well, using the narration to establish Blake's name and that she's Chloe's spouse feels a bit out of place, especially since you did so well introducing Chloe through her message at the start instead of simply telling us her name.

I also didn't like that bit, it didn't flow well and should have been cut. Honestly, the only reason I added it was for a callback since I really enjoyed the beginning. 

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@BismirisI did like the callback and I liked where you were going with it, I just think it could've flowed a bit more seamlessly if you had their dialogue establish their relationship rather than the narration. Though I could see why you wouldn't want to due to the restrictive nature of writing a short story. Just my 2 cents, though! And like I said, overall I really enjoyed!

Also, I had a question for the GM (so to speak), @DerivativeWings. If you've already won once, what's the etiquette for future rounds? I'd like to contribute, but I don't want to be a spotlight hog on the off-chance I win again. Could I like, add a story but then not have it count? Or is it fair game and multiple wins is just the name of the game? I know you're figuring this out, just wanted to bring that question up now in case this ball keeps rolling.

Edited by Railgun-sama (see edit history)
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@Railgun-sama You're very welcome to post again and keep playing the game, even as a legacy winner - and multiple wins are fair game. I don't think we're going to have enough contenders to guarantee fresh blood wins every time, and if someone starts hogging the crown that may even be an incentive for other writers to really give it their all to steal the win.

I also want to say I've been extremely pleased with how the game has been shaking out so far. There have been some really interesting, fun and creative submissions and I really hope we can keep up the momentum for a while at least! If we make it past ~5 or so rounds I may start maintaining a "Hall of Fame" type online document which would list all the previous winners, number of wins (assuming we get to a point where people have multiple wins to their name), and each previous theme (so a casual reader could more easily go back and read previous themes that seem particularly interesting). This is still kind of in the air (and doesn't seem worthwhile to set up until we've survived a few rounds at least), but I think it could be a useful thing to have, perhaps.

Hoping to submit for this round as well, as long as I can find the time for it. Happy writing, everyone!

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8 hours ago, BedwetterStacy said:

Someone is trying to hide their desperation or their accident.

Now to focus on the topic at hand:

"Hi, my name is Tom and I'll be your server today."

Tom. That was a good name for a good looking waiter.

"Today's specials are shrimp alfredo, fish tacos, and desserts are two for $5. My personal favorite are the lava cakes."

On his last sentence he makes eye contact with me. I blush, and attempt to act like I'm not.

"Um, I'll need a minute to look at the menu..." I reply.

"Yeah, me too..."

That was Desmond, as shy as he is large.

"No problem, can I start you off with some drinks?" Tom shifts his weight as he takes out his note pad.

"A water and a Blue Moon please." I request. Tom's discomfort doesn't slip past my trained eyes.

"I'll take a Coke please. Or a Pepsi if you do that instead." Desmond replies, not looking up from the menu.

"Great, I'll get that right out to you!" Tom's hand lingers on his crotch as he places his note pad in his apron pocket.

I linger on the action as he turns around and heads to the kitchen. My gaze follows him as he walks, his black slacks not leaving much to the imagination.

"So how's work been?"

Desmond's question snaps me out of my stupor.

"Not bad I guess. It's work. Nothing interesting really."

"You know, it's been three years since we graduated. Two years since we last spoke in person. Why don't we have more to talk about? We've been friends since our first day of school."

I sit on his question for a minute. How has three years already passed?

"I think that's exactly why. It's because we've been friends for so long. We've had every conversation possible in the 16 years we've known each other. I still remember The Lighting Thief was your favorite book from 5th grade."

"You remember my favorite book from 5th grade because it was also yours. There's no way we still enjoy the same things." Desmond challenges the notion.

"Okay, well... You like anime, I find it sexist. You still lift, I haven't since highschool. You went to Lake State, I stayed here."

"Two of those are circumstantial. As for anime, you've only watched two series and decided it was all the same-"

Desmond stops speaking as Tom sets down our drinks. He's even antsier than before. Tapping his foot, rocking his knee back and forth. An untrained eye would see it as nervousness, or possibly boredom. But I knew he was desperate, and hiding it well.

"Okay, ready to order?" Tom says a bit strained.

"Um," I look back at the menu. "I'll have a club sandwich with fries."

"I'll have the fish tacos, please" Desmond answers.

"What would you like for the side?" Tom shivers as he asks. Desmond doesn't seem to notice.

"Cole slaw please."

"Great! I'll get that order in right away!" Tom hurries off with a stiff gait.

"Any way. You watched Darling in the Franxx and Konosuba. There's plenty more in the genre that aren't pervy. You should check out Kaguya Sama if you like funny slice of life stuff. Or if you want something more dramatic, Violet Evergarden is a beautiful show. Oh, and the classics like Dragonball, Cowboy Bebop, Naruto are also great."

I attempt to focus on his words. The thought of Tom bursting is sitting in the back of my mind.

"Yeah, maybe. I just don't think anime is for me." I take a sip of my beer.

"Don't you watch RWBY? isn't that anime?" Desmond asks incredulously.

Not sure if he intends to playfully debate me, I take the bait.

"Yeah, but it doesn't have anime tropes like upskirts and harems and the power of friendship. Besides, some people don't think it's anime since it's American and cell shaded 3D."

I glance at Tom, walking from table to table. Probably trying to keep his bladder in check by moving. 

"Sounds like a gateway show to me, but whatever..." Desmond punctuates his reply eith a sip of his drink, and gets up and walks to the bathroom.

I see Tom walk into the staff area. I'm disappointed my show is about to end, but relieved he won't wet himself at work. But moments after I spot him enter, he walks out balancing a tray of food.

"Okay..." He says out if breath, sweat beads up on his forehead. "Here's your-" Another shudder. "F-food..."

Tom goes pale and freezes. He stares at the floor and holds his breath. I hear a hiss, but see nothing under his apron. That is until his piss begins snaking down his leg and saturating the carpet below.

"Oh my God..." Is all Tom can say as his bladder continues to empty.

I'm mesmerized. Saddened for Tom, and disgusted at my own pleasure. I continue to gawk at his wet pant legs, wondering which way he hung, what type of underwear he wore.

"I'm really sorry," Tom begins.

"Oops." I smoothly interrupt by pouring my water on the wet carpet. "Good thing I can't see anything under that apron..." My light buzz giving me a little too much confidence.

"Oh. Yeah..." Tom "yes ands" my diversion. "Let me get you some more." He retreats into the kitchen red faced, but more relaxed than before.

"What did I miss?" Asks Desmond.

"Nothing special." As I bite into my sandwich.

Ravaging our food like heathens, we're ready for the check by the time Tom comes back sans water.

"Here's your bill, I hope everything was to your standards tonight, have a great evening." Tom drops off the check.

I reach for it and let Desmond know it's on me. I leave Tom a hefty tip with my number written on it. Cheesy, but it might work.

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On 10/23/2020 at 2:56 AM, Railgun-sama said:

there are places where there will be a single sentence and then you start a new paragraph to write another single sentence. I was (and sometimes still am) awful about that too, but consolidating short paragraphs into longer ones definitely cleans up the look of the story and makes it read and flow better. All in all, though, I loved the story!
 

I used to write really long paragraphs and then over time they just kind of started getting smaller. I started using single sentence paragraphs for some things that I like to emphasise, kind of like a camera angle swapping to show something else for a split second. It's become a little bit of quirk.

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On 10/25/2020 at 11:48 PM, Callum said:

I used to write really long paragraphs and then over time they just kind of started getting smaller. I started using single sentence paragraphs for some things that I like to emphasise, kind of like a camera angle swapping to show something else for a split second. It's become a little bit of quirk.

I got into that habit too at some point, mostly because yeah, single sentences separate from the rest do put emphasis on what's being said. Though, at some point I realized I was doing it a little too much, and had to break the habit. Short paragraphs can be a really useful tool, but too many and it does kind of look sort of sloppy and less refined, so even now sometimes I find myself consolidating two short paragraphs that thematically and logically could just be a single paragraph instead. Just helps refine things.

Anyway, since I'm good to throw my hat back in the ring, here's my entry for this round!

A shady figure slinked down the bustling roads of District 17, glancing around nervously as she used the hood of her coat to obscure her face. She came to an abandoned building with boarded up windows and as she approached, another figure appeared from the shadows and motioned silently for her to follow. He led her to a door guarded by two large androids, very clearly decommissioned military models.

"So, you're here for the Red Gear rally?" the figure spoke as she followed.

"Yes," the woman replied.

"I'm going to need your name, model number, and android registry number," the first man asked her, "Make sure you're an android and not a human, the standard stuff."

"No problem, My name's Harmony, here's my data," the woman, Harmony, held out her arm, where she had the appropriate data implanted, and waited for the scan to pick it up. After a few nerve-wracking seconds, the light on the android's scanner flashed green.

"Everything checks out," the android nodded, "You're in."

"Thank you."

The two military androids stepped aside and let Harmony step into the building. Now that she was in she let out a quiet sigh. Harmony was not actually her real name, and she wasn't actually an android. She was an undercover journalist, and was one of the last stages of her investigation-- attending a Red Gear rally and finding out how the androids were able to circumvent the Asimov Protocols. She had gone through great lengths to get her hands on the fake data, as well as the vital-supressing bodysuit she was wearing underneath her coat. Even then, this was still a huge risk.

She shuffled uncomfortably. Her nerves were getting to her, and the efforts it took her to prepare the suit and find the place had left her without a proper bathroom break for quite some time. She had to pee. The tightness of her outfit wasn’t helping anything either. 

Damn. I should’ve planned this out better. Well, I’m in too deep now. Gotta hold it.

Naturally, androids did not need to relieve themselves, so of course there were no bathrooms present at the rally. Harmony, however, as a human, would have to fight against her natural urges. If she couldn’t, she’d get found out instantly, in a room surrounded by human-hating androids. 

Her heart raced in her chest as she fell into place in the crowd, waiting with baited breath as she stared up at the empty stage at the far end of the large room. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long for the rally to start. An android who had stripped away the synthetic skin on their face, giving them a skull-like appearance, stepped up onto the stage and was met with thunderous cheers and applause. They spoke in a synthesized voice with both masculine and feminine tones. They started by addressing very real issues, speaking out against the injustice androids face everyday. Even Harmony was starting to agree with some of his points. But then the speech turned darker. A hatred for humans, born of their mistreatment of androids, but twisted into something deeply disturbing. Listening to it sent chills up Harmony’s spine. 

The android’s chilling words only served to make Harmony more uncomfortable, and her attention shifted back to her bladder. It was pretty full, and she knew the rally would last for at least a few hours, if the information she had was correct. She hoped she could last that long. She shuffled and felt the skintight bodysuit press down on her bladder. Harmony wanted to wince and grab herself, but her restlessness had caught the attention of the android next to her, and she stifled any more movements to avoid looking suspicious.

As the rally continued, Harmony went through the motions. She’d clap when the others clapped. She’d yell in anger when the other androids did. It all felt surprisingly human for an android rally, but perhaps that was just a testament to her inherent prejudice.

However, as the night went on, she continued to anxiously check the time, watching the minutes tick by as she felt her bladder get more and more full. She would’ve been sweating if it weren’t for the anti-perspiration pills she had taken before the rally. Instead, the suit was cooled, which would keep her body temperature in check and keep her from overheating. This, of course, also meant that it felt chilly on her skin, which once again did nothing to help her desperation.

"Are you okay?" the android next to her asked, casting her a glance of concern.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm just a bit nervous. It's my first time attending one of these rallies," Harmony lied, hoping it sounded genuine. 

"Ah, same here," the other android nodded, "I'm a personal pleasure robot, but I'm quite sick of my owner's... less than savory treatment of me, in spite my protests. What about you?"

"O-oh, I'm a maid robot, not a personal pleasure model, but my master seems to not understand the difference, his incessant harassment is grating" Harmony replied. It was a generic answer that she picked to garner sympathy and throw off suspicion. It seemed to work. The other android flashed an apologetic, understanding glance and turned her attention back towards the stage.

Harmony herself turned her attention back towards her desperation. She squeezed her thighs together as subtly as she could as she tried to control her breathing. Some models of androids emulated breathing, either for a more human element, or sometimes even as a functional part of their cooling system, but ragged breathing was definitely a human thing. So was shuffling uncomfortably and bouncing from foot to foot. In fact, any of the physiological and psychological measures Harmony had to mitigate her desperation would also simply give her away as a human, so she was forced to try to stand there, as still as she could manage, even as her bladder nagged her.

An hour and a half in, and Harmony couldn’t even focus on the rally anymore. Not that it mattered anyway, she had been recording the whole thing with her smart contacts, so she could review the footage later. Now, however, it took all her mental willpower to maintain her composure, even as she felt like she was on the verge of wetting herself. She felt herself leak and her breath hitched. She couldn’t hold herself, or even squirm around desperately, so she was forced to stand there and squeeze her bladder muscles shut as she tried to maintain a calm outward demeanor. 

Oh my god, no no no! I have to hold it. I can’t pee. I absolutely can’t pee. If I wet myself here, I’ll get found out.

Knowing the consequences of getting caught, Harmony forced herself to hold it. Through sheer willpower, she managed to hold out another half-hour, but as the rally reached its peak and the androids around her sounded about ready to riot, Harmony had reached her limit. She had a few more leaks and close calls since her first leak, but now she had pushed her bladder past its limit.

“I can’t hold it. I can’t hold it. I can’t hold it. I’m going to pee. I’m going to wet myself any second now.”

She wanted nothing more than to jam her hands between her legs and dance in place, or drop to the ground and jam her heel into her crotch. She wanted to shift her weight from foot to foot and scissor her thighs back and forth restlessly in an attempt to hold on. But even if she managed to stay dry doing that, the very act of acting desperate would give her away. She already couldn't sit still, and it was a small miracle she hadn't been noticed already. She could thank the rally for that.

All she could feel, all she could focus on was how badly she needed to pee. She caught some of the rally. Apparently the Androids had one human ally, a doctor with the authorization and knowledge to overwrite their programing to "cast off the shackles placed upon them by humans who wish only to suppress them", which is how they some of the members of the Red Gear were able to kill humans in violation of the Protocols. Now that she had what she wanted, Harmony was tempted to leave before she had a full-on accident. However, leaving now would draw attention to herself. Best case she raised suspicions but they let her go silently. More likely they'd stop her, and if she wet herself at that point, she was done for. Seeing no way out, she struggled in vain to hold on, but she could feel her leaks turn to spurts as her taxed bladder muscles started to lose control. She forced herself to maintain an outwardly calm demeanor, but with one last push, her bladder won over and she started peeing.

“No no no no no no, shit shit shit shit! I have to stop it!” 

She tried to clamp her thighs shut to stem the flow, but it was no use. She could feel her pee running down the legs of the skintight suit, soaking her socks and shoes and pooling out over the ground. The material itself wasn’t absorbent, but it wasn’t watertight either, so her flood started to flow through the fabric and splatter out onto the ground.

She expected someone nearby to notice immediately, she held her breath and waited for someone to grab her or shout “Human!”, but it seemed like the androids around her were so riled up that they didn’t notice her wetting.

Harmony stood there in disbelief, looking around as the other androids focused on the stage, yelling and hollering in anti-human sentiment as the skull-like android compelled them to their cause. They were so heated, so angered, that her accident had gone unnoticed. She then looked down. The puddle was already soaking into the floor, and the stain was hard to see in the dim lighting. Her coat also hid most of the wet parts of her outfit. She might get away with this yet.

As the rally concluded, she slipped into the crowd and shuffled through the doors to the building, trying to stay hidden in plain sight. The damp, skin tight suit clung to her body and felt uncomfortable, and her shoes squished with the pee that had soaked through them, but no one had seemed to notice. Once she was far enough away from the rally, she felt her knees buckle under her weight and she collapsed to the floor in sheer relief that she hadn’t been caught. She might have wet herself, but she was about to write the article of the decade.

Edited by Railgun-sama (see edit history)
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I was worried I wasn't going to be able to make a submission this time, but I was. Here it is:

They say a frog won’t notice it’s boiling if the heat is raised slowly enough. In Lesa’s case, it seemed that applied just as well to her bladder. That’s what it felt like, anyway. The situation she found herself in was seemingly hopeless yet still so infuriatingly predictable; she’d gone from ignoring a minor urge at home, to forgetting about it at her friend’s place, to ignoring a chance to use the toilet at the dinner due to her rather inconvenient dress. For a while now, she’d known that she would need to excuse herself, that she couldn’t make it for that much longer but she just wanted to put it off until conversation better allowed for it. All of a sudden, she’d found herself at the precipice – her body convincingly signaling that she no longer had the option to wait around for a more opportune moment with a shiver that broke her voice in the middle of a sentence.

It was when she started to rise from her seat, feeling her the fabric of her dress against her bladder that the true peril of the situation dawned on her. She had been able to ignore it for a while now, keeping up various conversations, but it had become so, so full. For that one moment, it was the only thing Lesa was able to think about – the sudden near-paralyzing sensation of a bladder stretched to the absolute limit. She needed to go way worse than she’d realized, and her body didn’t even want to wait the relatively short amount of time it would take for her to make it to the bathroom.

She stopped dead in her motion and tried to hold tight, but it was too late. Caught in an awkward squat above the chair, a forceful geyser of hot piss shot out of her at an upward angle, hitting the front of her dress before falling down the back, collecting around a crease near the hem of her skirt. Lesa sat down her chair, lightning-fast. She had managed to stop a full disaster, but the back of her dress felt very wet – if she rose it would undoubtedly be extremely noticeable. Leaving now while she had attention focused on her was simply not at option.

And so, Lena would remain in her chair for what felt like eternity. She kept up with the pleasantries, though at this point she wasn’t exactly ready to add much to the conversations. Her accident had taken some of the edge off her over-swollen bladder, sure. And with her legs twisted together into a knot under the table, Lesa was no longer seconds away from exploding. But even so, she needed a toilet and fast. After her partial accident, she could no longer take her mind off her need – and even if she could, her bladder begging to be emptied would make sure to remind her with every passing minute.

However, in the frantic, desperate corners of Lesa’s mind, she was able to formulate a plan. It was, perhaps, a long shot. But it was the hope that kept her from having an accident in her chair. Soon, desert would arrive at the table. When that happened, she’d have a chance to leave the table without people taking notice.

Waiting beyond this point proved to be a near insurmountable challenge. More and more liquid was mercilessly pumped into her already far to full bladder. Occasionally, Lesa would feel as though she’d reached her absolute limit, as her body told her it was time to rush off to a toilet or pee in the chair. Even so, she could not. Wetting herself was not an option, and neither was rushing off with all eyes on her wet dress. She had to wait.

Despite her willpower, her bladder had limits that Lesa couldn’t just ignore. The previous leak had blind-sided Lena. A sudden shift in posture had pushed her bladder too far – but she had still been able to recover, then. Now, Lena was leaking in total defeat – despite her best attempts to hold it in she had hit the physical limit. It was at this desperate moment that Lena would see the plates being exchanged, and large bowls of wonderful-looking fruit and honey cakes being taken in. The attention of everyone turned away from the dinner attendees and towards the anticipated desert. When Lesa excused herself and left the table, nobody seemed to pay her much mind.

She had to walk slowly towards the washroom, holding herself. She wasn’t leaking, now, but she felt as though she was hanging by a thread. The tautness of her bladder was emphasized now that she was standing, and the way it pushed up against her rather tight-fitting dress sent foreboding shivers through Lesa’s midsection and further down her legs as she walked.

Finally, Lesa stood in front of the toilet. She was nearly out of the woods now, just needed to raise her dress, lower her panties and sit down. Raise her dress, lower her panties, sit down. Even this simple task was incredibly difficult – as soon as her hands were tugging at her dress she was stepping up a storm, squirming, moaning in desperation. As soon as her dress was up, the outline of her bladder was very noticeable on her skin. It looked full to the brim, angry, pushing down, just about to release.

Lowering her panties was even worse – they had been constricting her bladder all this time but lowering them gave her bladder one last squeeze. It was now or never, and she was already peeing before she turned around, giving the floor a spray before finally getting to sit down on the toilet.

It was heavenly. Her stream of pee shot out forcefully at an angle, again, seemingly almost making it past the edge of the bowl before hitting porcelain. Her legs, totally spread apart were shivering and Lesa couldn’t help but cry out in total relief, moaning loudly more than once as she let out an absolute ocean. Her panties were ruined – part of her dress was still wet. But she’d made it. She’d made it.

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