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A/N: This was started before TikTok was a thing, so I apologize for the coincidence. I hope it doesn't distract from the story too much.

The pair of sisters who went by Tink and Tock were as into their nicknames as they were the meanings behind them. That is, into them enough to delight in being known only that way. The last holdouts to use their given names were their parents, and even they were beginning to crack. 

 

“Tock” was born first, grew to be blessed with lustrous chocolate-brown curls, and got her nickname in middle school for her habit of almost never asking for the bathroom. It might have escaped notice had she just avoided drinking much and never let the topic arise. Instead, there were plenty of times in and out of school when she would clamp a hand between her legs and contentedly bounce around, making no further effort in the moment to relieve herself. When asked why, she might shrug and answer, “I dunno. Going pee is just annoying and I’m fine with holding it, so why not?” 

 

She even weathered the teasing of her friends. “Tick tock,” they would warn, watching her in the midst of one of her animated, really obvious debates with her bladder. She had never actually had an accident in school, but one friend said, “I swear if your pee started coming out on ‘tick,’ you still wouldn’t run until ‘tock.’”

 

“Nope,” she agreed, giggling and shaking her head, letting her curls swing back and forth in turn. Maybe it was her confidence, or maybe she was simply pretty and popular enough to get away with anything, but both worked in her favor. Her reputation survived.

 

Her sister went by “Tink.” As a kid she had Tinkerbell toys and stickers on everything, so it was a natural choice. A year younger, bespectacled, and with auburn locks so pin-straight her ears stuck through it, she always thought Tock’s antics were ridiculous. She kept the state of her bladder to herself. All that jumping around basically guaranteed that if Tock ever did have an accident, it would make a huge mess and everyone in the world would see, half-shocked but wholly unsurprised. 

 

Yet, what started as shyness about her own pee habits when compared to Tock’s soon became a distinct quirk too, one that earned her a new facet to her nickname by the time she joined her big sis in high school. If Tock stayed away from the bathroom on purpose, Tink needed only one pivotal nudge to take it a step further. 

 

Normally she joined her sister in holding all day at school, minus the theatrics. She ended up confessing to Tock that she did get some enjoyment out of holding too, and had since made peace with others knowing when she had to go. Keeping quiet became more just an attempt at being seen as her own person, and not just a mini-Tock. But being discreet in the end stages of a long hold was not possible forever. Eventually she would have to cross her legs, bounce on her toes, use her hand, anything to calm her bladder that would invariably give her away.

    She knew this, but for the longest time it never arose as a problem. She would wait stoically, clamping her muscles until they trembled, ready to release the moment she got to the toilet at home. Tock always let her go first, chatting and turning her own hyperactive holding into a show at the open bathroom door. But the hope for that daily ritual faded quickly one afternoon when their bus was late.

 

Tock stood outside the school with the few dozen students who remained. She had her legs crossed even before anything was amiss. Her figure-hugging jeans exaggerated the wiggle of her hips. She laughed aloud at her own luck upon hearing the bad news. She sang, “This-bus-better-come-soon, ‘cuz-I’m-about-to-pee,” bouncing to the rhythm. Her friends laughed along and teased her some, but ultimately sympathized.

 

The quiet sibling stood nearby, parched from the effort of controlling her flexing bladder more privately. No one other than Tock seemed to show any urge at all, let alone make such a scene. At least she drew any potential notice away from Tink, who was making her thighs sore by squeezing them together so hard. Now was about the time she should be letting a trilling stream hit the inside of the toilet bowl, with Tock watching in sweet agony. “One of these days I’m not gonna put myself through this for you,” she would say, smiling while doubled over with both hands in her crotch, “I’m gonna go first and let YOU have a turn in the hot seat.”

 

In a scene not quite like the one predicted, that day was today. The hot seat was hers. Literally. Daydreaming about her after-school pee had sent a shot of warmth over Tink’s crotch.

 

She bit her lip, letting a small whimper escape while she clenched. A blush struck her cheeks when another kid glanced her way. She had given no clear signals yet, but the chance of not making it just became very real. Tock was the one giving a song and dance. But when it came down to who could hold it longer, there was no question. Tink was going down.

 

After the reflexive shame of doing something immature and “gross”, the fact that her dark green panties now clung to her while damp with pee did not unsettle her at all. Never mind that it was probably not the last wetness they would catch. It felt kind of nice, and watching Tock act out while she was actually the one getting wet gave her a strange excitement. And besides, she was not burdened by jeans like her counterpart. She instead wore a ruffled black skirt that came down to just above her knees. Practically speaking, she could afford to let out a lot more than one little leak. There was a lot of leeway before anyone might notice. And even if they did, they would probably understand. In the resonant words of her sister, “Why not?”

 

She swallowed. Staring straight ahead, and ever so carefully, she began to relax her hold. Pee filled her urethra, hanging at the point of release. But when it made its final push, instead of pushing back just as hard, she coaxed a squirt to come out.

 

Her underwear’s warmth was refreshed, and the bladder wave had receded. It worked! That felt so much better than forcing herself to stay dry, both in effort required and in getting to forgive herself while feeling it flow. Why had she been so neurotic about accidents for so long? The only problem was that it had helped her endure a single push, but had done nothing in the long term for the bladder that was still achingly overtaxed.

 

Tock’s behavior had cooled in the last few minutes. Her hand was still in her crotch and her pants were still dry, but exhaustion was setting in. Tink in her damp underwear actually felt worse for her sister, who was unable to ease her suffering in the same way without it showing to everyone. For her sister’s sake, she resolved to leak enough for the both of them.

 

Tink’s bladder muscles screamed at her to release. At first, when she started to obey, it felt like her pee would spray out at full blast and she clenched again. But the fact remained that she still had clothes on, and was well-trained enough that letting it go like that would probably not happen easily. When she braved another second or two of relaxation, the same thing as before happened: her pee would rush to the exit, then seemed to wait for her permission. By feathering her muscles, she could let out little leaks slowly enough that they would stay in her underwear.

 

She did not quite anticipate what happened next. Alongside her bladder still getting more fatigued, the little leaks felt awesome. What started as fully deliberate holds and releases became a rhythmic pattern. Hold-release-leak-clench, with each step only taking a second or so. And even though she might have done the releasing and leaking on purpose anyway, the biggest thrill was that they were not so on purpose anymore. The same amount of effort it took to stay dry five minutes ago was now what it took to keep herself to stop-and-go leaks.

    Tink’s heart pounded. The realization struck her that the situation had now broken loose from the dark parts of her imagination: she was no-joke peeing herself at school. The same scenario that Tock especially had invited every day and Tink took to courting herself, but still might be a nightmare to millions of kids. The craziest part? She convinced herself that wetting was okay. There was little else to soothe the double thought that ricocheted in her mind. This is the most horrifying and exciting moment of my life. Each swell of pee cleared the way a little more, until the stream’s high points splashed and bubbled, filling her underwear, and the lowest were still a steady trickle until growing in strength again.

 

Tink closed her eyes, focusing only on her breathing and the hot stream in her panties that had at some point escaped and started making trails down the insides of her crossed legs. Her thin sandals were no barrier either. The pee just ran off the shoes and, when she dared to look down, were leaving telltale splats at her feet.

 

She forgot where she was for a moment and watched the splats go from individual dark spots, to connected shiny spots, to a shimmering puddle as both her ability and will to hold fled. She had no more fight in her, and was having too good a time to stop anyway. She should have started wetting years ago when it would have been less weird.

 

Oh yeah, it was currently weird, as she was reminded by the reactions of those around her. “Omigod, she’s pissing herself,” one said. Several other kids backed up to get some distance from her splashing. 

 

A blush blazed back to her face and protruding ears. “Sorry,” she said, making a last token effort of grabbing her crotch to try to stop peeing. It was hopeless; all it achieved was getting her hand and skirt wet too. Her bladder had emptied, but her stomach twisted now that she was busted in her little incident.

 

The mind can go to strange places when otherwise cornered. The others might have figured out it was kind of on purpose, since she hadn’t been squirming like her sister. That meant her last hope was the benefit of the doubt that she meant to wet herself in front of everyone. Ultimately, it probably would have happened anyway, but could they have caught on that she didn’t try all that hard to hold it longer?

 

She braced herself in the chatter for an onslaught of teasing. But after a second or two, it never came. She had to handle only seeming indifference and a few sympathetic frowns after the initial shock. “It’s okay,” another girl said, “It was pretty obvious you had to go, and we’re all stuck here. I might end up wet too before this friggin’ bus gets here.”

 

Tink sighed, managing to smile back. “Thanks, it was really bad. I mean, if you do go too, at least I can’t make fun of you, right?” She hoped the other girl would take her up on the subtle hint, but it wasn’t to be this time. 

 

Meanwhile, Tock had mostly stopped her wiggling and sidled up to Tink as a bus engine roared in the distance. 

 

“I thought I had to go worse than ever, but damn, sis,” Tock said, admiring the aftermath, “You okay?”

 

Refreshed, sporting thoroughly shiny legs, and wafting pee smell into the breeze, Tink nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“That’s good,” her sister said, daring to squeeze Tink’s shoulder before shuddering again when the urge came back, “Should we start calling you Tinkle now?”

 

Feeling the breeze chill her damp panties, Tink chuckled. Tinkerbell did frequently leave a trail of golden sparkles behind her. “Just Tink is fine. But it can mean Tinkle now too I guess.”

 

Tock regarded the yellow sheen on Tink’s calves and feet again, grinning broadly. “You bet your wet ass it does. You’re my sister, alright.”

 

“Here, gimme a hug!” Tink said, ominously offering her spread arms.

 

“No, get away!” Tock squealed, “I can’t even run I have to pee too bad!”

 

The little game of tag was over when the bus finally lurched up. Tink’s skirt was too dark to show the wetness, so the bus driver was none the wiser. None of the witnesses gave her away either; another surge of warmth came in Tink’s sudden affection for her classmates. 

 

For once, she did not appreciably need the toilet after getting home. It was Tock’s to claim. Tink, being so relieved, followed anyway out of tradition. Her sister hobbled to the bathroom mostly bent over, groaning more and more frantically as she went. Even in extra desperation than usual, that was uncommon for her, and Tink saw the reason this time: a little dark spot in the crotch of her jeans that was growing bigger with every step. She stood at the door of the bathroom in Tock’s usual spot while her still-desperate sister wrenched down her already-unbuttoned pants. Her stream was in full bloom while she sat down, leaving a broad yellow puddle on the seat between her legs. She sighed, the worst of their ordeal finally over. But looking at the damage, Tink couldn’t help but laugh.

 

Tock feigned shielding her face in embarrassment, but she was too tired to honestly care, and in too vulnerable company. “How do you get away laughing at me when you’re way wetter?”

 

Tink turned up her hands, saying “You didn’t go in your pants on purpose.”

 

Tock’s mouth hung open at such a scandal. “You did that on purpose?!”

    Even though it was just her sister that found out, Tink started blushing again. “Well, kinda? At first it was an accident, but then I started letting some out because it hurt too much. Then I couldn’t stop.”

    Tock pulled her jeans back up, exclaiming “Ohh it’s cold!” before stripping them off again, staying in her pee-spotted lavender panties instead. Beckoning Tink toward her bedroom to continue the conversation, she asked, “Did it at least feel good?”

 

A smile crawled across Tink’s face. “Yeah.” Her sister may have been in the process of changing clothes, but she was in no such rush. “I think I’ll try it again sometime.”

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I initially envisioned this as a full-on sequel, but seeing as it's about the same characters, I figured I'd just continue my current thread. I've had huge fun writing this and hope I can keep it going.

 

Tink and Tock 2: "Go Somewhere Else."

 

1: The Plan


Sometimes, an interest proves a phase: the person gets a taste of it, and gradually gets their fill before moving on. Not so with the bladder habits of the sisters known as Tink and Tock. The news that their parents were leaving to visit relatives for the week could not have been better received than by a leaker and a holder ready to have some more fun with their quirks.

 

Tock beckoned her younger sister into her bedroom, closing the door while biting her lip. “So what do you wanna do first for their trip?”

 

Tink’s eyes sparkled with possibility behind her glasses, but ultimately she drew a blank and sighed. “Not a holding contest, you’d win.” A faint pee scent trailed from her damp underwear even now, safe at home without a special challenge.

 

Tock sucked her tongue, trying to help brainstorm. “Yeah, sorry to say. Some other kind of contest, maybe? We’ve got a little time to think at least.”

 

The younger sister left, but at school right before the fateful day arrived, a grin stayed etched on her face.

 

Tock caught on and got to wondering. It wasn’t until boarding the bus that afternoon (with Tock jiggling her thighs and Tink wiping the pee drops on hers) that they got to speak in semi-privacy. “You thought of something, didn’t you? What is it?”

 

“Not yet. Give me like twenty minutes after we get home, you’ll see.”

    Finishing keeping her sister company during their after-school toilet visit, Tink skipped off to her room. As she requested, it took about twenty minutes for anything to happen.

    Tock noticed the shared printer in the living room stir. She started to get up to investigate, but Tink came running back and snatched the fresh page that came out. “I want it to be a surprise, please?”

 

The older, curly-haired brunette relented. “Fine, if you insist.”

 

She only had to wait until next morning. But after the girls saw their parents off and closed the door behind them, the energy in the house hummed. Tink had hidden the paper until ready to reveal it. As if presenting a royal decree, she stood in her pale green satin bathrobe and held up the page.

 

“Alright. My idea involves no peeing in the toilet for the whole week!” She turned it around for Tock to scan. It was a list of rules relating to that ominous-sounding start.

    Tock crossed her arms in front of her black tank top. “That seems kind of, extreme? Like, I never hold until it’s unhealthy. And for the whole time they’re gone, or what?”

    “Nono, look,” Tink continued, “You don’t have to agree just yet, but listen. I call it ‘Go Somewhere Else.’” She began to announce the rules in turn. “One: This will be a contest with points, the winner of which gets both of our allowances for the next week.”

    Tock moved her hands to her hips, but listened.

    “Two: Number-twos don’t count, so if you have to do that, just go normally. I’m not into that either,” she said. “But each time you do, you have to drink a full glass to make up for whatever pee you did at the same time. And the first time is two points, the next time is four points, and so on, so we aren’t too tempted to cheat that way.”

 

“Wait,” Tock said, “So points are bad?”

    “Yep. Whoever has the least points at the end of the game wins.”

    “That can’t be it though,” Tock said, “You want us to just pee ourselves all the time, or go in the sink or something?” She laughed as she finished the thought.

 

“Sort of, that’s why it’s named that. Three: You can’t pee in the toilet, but you can go anywhere else-- in the sink, in a pot, outside, whatever, but only once. I guess technically even directly on the floor but that’s a point for making a mess. After that you can’t go in the same way in the same place or else it’s a point, and it goes up if you repeat again. So if you absolutely have to repeat a pee, go with the one you’ve done the least.”

 

Tock nodded, coming around to the idea. “And do your pants count as a ‘way’ for your system?”

    Tink grinned as if caught trying to give herself an advantage. “Going in your pants is free-- IF you don’t make a mess that needs cleaning up. Otherwise you get a point and have to clean it yourself. Plus we can only change clothes a total of twice a day, basically just from pajamas into regular clothes in the morning and the opposite at bedtime. We don’t want to be wasteful by making tons of laundry. So if you wet both your day and night outfits, too bad.”

 

Tock smiled in turn. “You really put a lot of thought into this.”

 

Tink started to blush and rub her toes together. “Well, do you like it?”

    Tock nodded, her pulse pounding already. “I might be able to work with this. What else?”
 

“Four:” she carried on, “Each pee has to be with the other person watching. One to make it harder to cheat, and because it’s a game about peeing! Why not be there for the main action? Besides, we watch each other all the time anyway so I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that. If you go by yourself and have to admit it afterward, it’s a point.”

 

“Fair,” Tock answered, “But when would we be apart for any of this?”

    Tink donned an evil grin. “School is still in-game.”

 

Tock shrugged. “Eh, neither of us usually go in school anyway. No big deal there.”

 

Tink’s evil grin persisted. “Five: we both have to drink two refills of our big water bottles a day. Can’t go somewhere else if there’s no ‘go.’ It can be all after school if you want, but that makes the home part harder. That’s part of the strategy.”

 

Tock gulped and darted her eyes around, but ultimately made up her mind. She extended her hand. “Alright. You’ve got yourself an opponent. What am I gonna buy with all that allowance money? A boat I think after you cry me a river.”

 

Tink shook. “More like I’ll buy you a life jacket after you pee yourself a river!” 

 

The first official game of Go Somewhere Else was on.

Edited by AliasnameTO (see edit history)
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2: The Throne Sits Empty

 

Sunbeams still streamed through their east-facing windows. The girls filled their bottles and decided on their most intimidating stuffed animal, a bear with a foam knight’s helmet and plush “wooden” sword, to sit atop the closed toilet lid as a guard. They also set up a small dry erase board on the inside of Tink’s bedroom door to serve as the tally sheet for their points, and another page underneath to log their pee techniques and drinking progress.

 

Tock sighed, still settling the nerves in her belly. “What should we do first? I’m ready for a shower.”

 

Tink giggled, maybe a little more than normal because of her own excitement. “Remember the shower is fair game, but you can only change clothes twice, so make it count.”

 

“Hmm, that’s right. But I just went pee after waking up so I think I’ll be okay.” She chose a burgundy tank top and dark grey yoga pants. The shower started to murmur through the closed bathroom door.

 

Tink would try a different tack. The panties she had worn to bed already smelled like pee from dribbling in them all yesterday, and some of this morning until using the bathroom herself. She had a few gulps of water during Tock’s shower, planning to hold off changing until getting through at least one proper “go.” She continued sipping water while her sister finally got out and blow-dried her hair.

 

After sharing a breakfast of cereal and milk, they both browsed for a movie to stream. Halfway through, Tink’s bladder twinged. 

 

“How you feeling?” Tink asked, bringing her feet up onto the cushion.

 

“Fine,” Tock answered, cracking a smile. “Don’t tell me you have to go already.”

 

“A little.” The younger sister decided to keep doing her thing: frequent leaks. Her panties were already damp in the gusset, but she had practiced enough to know how much she could get away with. With her knees-up posture, the worst-case scenario was that it would run down to her butt and into the back of her baggy sleep shirt, or ultimately her robe. Those layers had her feeling confident enough to dribble at almost every urge until the movie ended.

 

Shortly after standing up was when Tink got busted. “Tiiiink-llleee!” her sister dragged out in her sing-song guilt voice while pointing at the wet spot on Tink’s butt, “You went on the couch! Chalk that one up as a point!”

 

Tink blushed and shot a glance back where she was sitting. The cushion was dry. “Nuh-uh, I didn’t make a mess! Going in our clothes is free!”

 

Tock snapped her fingers, foiled. “Damn. Your time is coming, though!”
 

“I dunno, sis, I’m feeling pretty good right now and even made some progress on my water. How about you?”
 

It appeared that Tock had forgotten all about the water, which stood abandoned on the dresser in her bedroom. She would have to get through two of them, and certainly did not want to have to down it all right before bed. She fetched it, and came back having taken several swigs. “Just so you know, your game is evil,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I love it.”

 

The game’s mastermind, already wetter than she would normally allow herself to get, just grinned. This was just the faintest taste of the excitement to come.

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3: A Proper Introduction

 

As much pee as Tink had let out during the movie, it could never have balanced all the liquids she had drunk before noon. Shortly after the boast accompanying wetting her PJs, her bladder urges were coming back. Her panties squelched and smelled from being so wet. Any further leaks would go straight through to her thighs, which she would have to mop with the hem of her shirt or risk giving Tock an early lead on points. But as much as leaking more was too risky, she had made such a habit of it that not leaking had her bladder throwing a fit. Putting off doing a full pee any longer grew less and less realistic.

 

She took her mind off of it by watching her sister. The curvy high school junior had taken up her iconic wiggling, and had zero shyness about keeping a hand buried in her crotch.

 

What appeared to be business as usual for Tock belied a slow-motion emergency. She never had this much to drink so fast, in or out of school. Only towards the end of the day did she normally feel a similar weight in pee that pressed between her legs now. She was the master holder, though. Even with how much her sister already wet herself, could Tock really admit weakness in having to go first? Besides, she hadn’t even begun to think of where she might do the deed. 

 

The easy first choices would be in the bathroom: the sink or shower. Going in there would be no fuss at all. But the game would last a whole week; she might want to save the easy options for if she let herself get into real trouble. She did a mental walkthrough of the house, visualizing each room in turn and how she might pee without incurring a point. 

 

Before any clear ideas came to her, Tink interrupted. “I just thought of another rule. Do you want to play that each way can be copied by the other person, or if one of us does a way, then that takes it out for both?”

 

Tock was not so nervous about her state to drop the bold facade. “The second. No copying each other, so we can possibly take away options on purpose.”

 

“Ooh, cunning. I like it.”

 

Damn. That added an entirely new layer to the mind game. If Tock got too creative with her pees, Tink might never have done them in the first place and she’d miss the opportunity for denial. 

 

A bladder push further broke Tock’s train of thought. She let a quiet gasp escape and pressed harder on her crotch. The chance of leaking didn’t concern her just yet, but she couldn’t afford to burn all her holding stamina before the first go. She made the snap decision to make her pee a medium-difficulty one: a drinking glass in the kitchen.

 

Before her sister could comment on her little desperation sign, Tock announced, “I’m gonna go. Come on.”

 

Tink squealed in excitement, bouncing behind her on the way to the kitchen. “Is it weird that I really wanna see how you go?”

 

“Yes, but we’re weird.” She kept her voice measured despite the way her bladder throbbed. Clenching hard meant no leaks while reaching for one of the bigger glasses from the upper cabinet. “Here goes,” she said to herself. Tink stood nearby while she held the glass in one hand and worked her waistband down with the other. Not having a free hand to press her crotch made for a sharper bladder squeeze. It made her curtsy and tremble when getting her pants free. 

 

“Hehe, looks like you’re already hurting,” Tink gloated. What soothed the sting for Tock, though, was that her little sister had obviously crammed the front of her shirt between her legs, and it was already spotted with moisture. She either couldn’t hold worth a darn anymore, or didn’t try to. Being free to watch Tink’s next move would serve as delicious entertainment. In the meantime, she had her own pee to get through. 

 

Tock took a breath, readying the glass before her trimmed pubic patch and locked-together thighs. All preparations made, she opened her legs and held the glass in place, finally ready to let go. 

 

Her pee stream bubbled in the vessel, its warmth and vibration clear even through its walls. She sighed, sharing a smile with her observer. “You know, I usually think going pee is annoying, but this is actually pretty fun.”

 

Tink had crouched close to the glass, transfixed by the unique show. “It is, but it makes me wanna go pretty bad too.” She was in the process of rubbing her crotch, while the wet spot on the wrinkled front of her shirt slowly spread.

 

Eyeing her sister’s steady leaking, Tock asked, “Are you sure you’re not just having like, a legit accident right now?”

 

Tink started to nod, then paused. “Uhh, maybe.” She whimpered when springing up on the kitchen sink, drops of pee having wound their way down to her calves, and let fly. She let her head roll back while making a cacophonous splashing through her panties… and shirt, and robe.
 

Tock had filled her glass most of the way to the rim, waiting to catch the last few drops before pulling her pants back up. While she poured the warm pee into the sink behind her sister, another splattering rang out. The source? A growing yellow puddle under Tink’s feet.

 

With the way she was sitting on the sink and peeing into her pajamas, Tink hadn’t realized how it pooled and started flowing between her legs, away from the sink rather than down into it. She leaned over and spotted the damage. “Shit,” she said, her stream finally ended. Half of it had gone on the tile anyway.

 

Tock put her pee glass in the dishwasher and stood proud as Tink surveyed the damage. “So does that count as a way and a point for making a mess?”
 

Tink sighed in resignation, but not in total defeat. “A point, yes. But it was in my underwear so it doesn’t count as a way.”

 

Her older sister scoffed. “You’re just gonna do all your pees through your underwear, you little wet stinkbug!”

 

Tink chuckled back, picking at her soaked front and back. “I planned on it, but I’m like, really wet. I’m gonna clean this up, then have a shower. You can mark my point down.”

 

The scoreboard awaited Tock while her sister took care of her assorted messes. Under the column for ways she entered “Kitchen- into held glass” and struck a point for Tink. So far, the game was going better than expected.

Edited by AliasnameTO (see edit history)
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  • 8 months later...

4: The Pressure Mounts

 

Tink stood in the kitchen in her chilly wet clothes. Even a slim fraction of her full pee had flooded the tile. Rather than spend forever sponging it up, she sacrificed her robe, shaking her shoulders free of it to toss it over her mess. It was going in the laundry anyway, so no big deal.
 

Nothing relating to Tink’s peeing was a big deal, or so it seemed to her sister. But privately, a full wetting like that nagged at her. That on-purpose leak had turned into a real accident way too fast. Was it just the extra water that was different? Or was her leaking habit beginning to get away from her? Being a little damp most of the time was supposed to be convenient and make her feel good, not become the start of an actual problem.

 

Or maybe she was overthinking it. There would ultimately be no avoiding points the way the game was designed; she still had plenty of time to rally. Not to mention the circumstances when the wetting happened were stacked against her. She had downed her entire water bottle and started on the refill before lunchtime, had been leaking continuously for hours, had a front-row seat when Tock peed forcefully into a drinking glass, and knew she’d suffer no serious consequences no matter what happened. Even her parents, when they were home, had come to accept Tink’s ever-present pee patch, loving her just the same. The environment here was too encouraging and too safe to scare herself into sobriety.

 

The shower became Tink’s war room. Her strategy for the game came down to one of two approaches. First for review, her normal habit of holding and leaking, only doing a proper “go” when there was no other choice. This worked great outside of Go Somewhere Else. She usually drank only a fraction of the liquids her rules called for, and could control her bladder even without leaking. Except for that one day waiting for the bus, she stayed damp purely for enjoyment. A couple of regular toilet pees a day had her as content as can be. 

 

For better or for worse, though, she had made the game hard. She definitely underestimated the effect that two big water bottles a day would have on her endurance. That brought in the second option for victory: More counted pees to deny ways for Tock, and if the need arose, more full wettings. She would have preferred the latter anyway, before she ever had a better reason for wetting than feeling like it. But the rules assumed that the girls didn’t actually want to wet themselves. Unless Tock adopted the same attitude, that gave the younger sister a considerable edge. She could repeat certain ways as much as she wanted, denying Tock much in the way of “offense” in forcing her to improvise. 

 

Tink’s bladder ached while she toweled off. Not from fullness, but from emptiness so recently after an intense struggle. Looking at the lavender panties and coral-colored cotton shorts she had picked out suddenly daunted her. Her next urge was sure to come on fast after all this exertion. She stepped into them all the same, with a sky-blue camisole on top.

 

The two of them being fully empty at the same time, the next hour or so passed without any action. They were both just scrolling on their phones until suddenly, Tock groaned, “This is ridiculous!”

 

“What is?” Tink said, not looking up.

 

The brunette had planted a hand in her crotch. “I have to go again, like, pretty bad already.” 

 

Tink grinned. It was not like her sister at all to address her bladder needs with any sort of worry. As the origin of her nickname implied, no need to pee ever unsettled her even into the bitter end. Tink had begun getting twinges herself just a few minutes ago, but felt some deadpan teasing would pile on more pressure still. “Oh no, you have to pee during a peeing game, what a tragedy.”

 

Tock’s carefree attitude had faltered, but came back just as quickly. “Well at least I’m gonna try to hold it, unlike you Miss Tinklebottom.”

 

The younger sister giggled at her tweaked nickname. “I don’t have to pee yet, so you better figure out where to go next before that name fits you too.”

 

Tock sighed and sat cross-legged on the couch, keeping a hand in her crotch. She was such an open book: she took to bouncing her knees up and down, giving a direct gauge to how bad it was. First bouncing slowly, then frantically, and then tapering off again for a few minutes in time with each wave. Tock’s expressiveness about her pee remained a constant, but knowing it was not an exaggeration this time meant a more entertaining show for Tink than usual. There was no telling how long she would keep at it before giving in.

 

Tink’s bladder pressure made a real entrance a few minutes later. It hit like it usually did only at the end of a school day, where the pointed urge overwhelmed everything else. It appeared Tock was too busy with her own need to notice how her sister tensed up. Normally Tink would just start going a little, but her bright cotton shorts would show even one good spurt. Not that she truly cared about getting caught, but they would not hold much, and she was not especially in the mood to be teased yet. Hopefully she could keep the leaking to a minimum until Tock put her next pee on the board.

 

For Tock, though, the odds were against her. It never occurred to her that her holding strength, of which she was once so proud, might have been severely depleted from all the extra stress of the game. Halfway through day one and with only one “go” recorded so far, Tink’s two-bottle rule had Tock’s bladder begging for mercy. It could not have filled up much in such a short time, but consecutive holds were a level of endurance even she might not be prepared for. 

 

She would have to shift her strategy: maybe think up several ways at a time, put them into action as needed, then hold once her bladder had rested. It was in that time she would think up a few more. Maybe that way would allow her a little bit of “offense” too, since there was no way Tink could copy every method simply by doing it through her clothes. It was a good enough plan.

 

She glanced at Tink-- knees clutched to her chest but otherwise absorbed in her phone, perfect. It gave her the chance to look around for options.

 

One: the big flower pot on the front stoop. It would be easy to sit on the rim and pee into the soil. Even if she got sloppy and some got on the ground, it was outside so wouldn’t count as a mess. 

 

Two: her clothes hamper. That one would be a little bit risky, because it was in no way waterproof. But a full load of laundry should be absorbent enough to keep any from running through to the floor. 

 

Three: speaking of laundry, the washing machine! She could sit and let fly, and even rinse away the results, just like a toilet. Hearing her stream batter the echoey drum might be really fun too. She would have to get to that one before Tink thought of it.

 

At least she completed her planning before Tink derailed her train of thought. “We should order pizza,” Tink said out of the blue, “I know I’m in no hurry to make dinner.”

 

“Fine by me.” Their parents had given them a few dollars for exactly that kind of treat once or twice while they were gone, so the cost wouldn’t even eat into the pot of prize money. Tock started salivating immediately after making the call.

 

What she had not accounted for, though, was the timing of the pizza lining up with her desperation. The girls would need to be together for any pees, but someone would have to get the door for the pizza delivery. Though the idea of literally getting caught with her pants down may have worked in her head, Tock was in no hurry to really have an accident in front of a stranger, let alone give up a point to Tink should some pee get out of control. Not to mention it would hardly be sporting to finish her pee while letting Tink answer the door. She would have to either go now, or try holding it until after the delivery person left.

    She had wasted too much time realizing that though. The pressure in her fatigued bladder had her biting her lip and tugging at her waistband. Going for an actual pee now would be a big risk, since the pizza could arrive at any moment. She even considered letting out a little in her pants like Tink, not even caring that she would have to stay in her wet things.

 

A strong wave hit. Even with a hand between her legs and furious bouncing, the pain arrived ahead of a pricking warmth on her privates. It was not a long leak, but she had panicked enough for Tink to suspect what happened. 

 

“Why so nervous?” Tink cooed, “You’re allowed to get a little wet.” From her own perspective, she was speaking from the heart. But just the fact that she said it now to Tock was something of a barb.

 

Tock didn’t have it in her to fire back. “C’mere, I’m gonna go.” She hobbled toward the laundry room, having settled on the washing machine idea. Hopefully she could keep it together long enough to perch herself on top.

 

Knock knock knock!

 

“You’re freaking kidding me!” Tock had clapped a hand to her forehead having stopped in her tracks. Tink had covered her mouth in glee, but now stood with her skinny bare legs crossed as well. Unless Tock’s imagination was playing tricks on her, the folds in the crotch of Tink’s shorts held some deeper shadows than they should have. If she was just now starting to wet herself, I can manage for five more minutes. She forced a hand deep between her legs and summoned the will to limp to the kitchen counter for the money. 

 

For a moment she tried composing herself and looking normal before opening the door. Nope. Giving up her squirming and hand-hold meant the stabbing pressure came roaring back. Oh well, everyone else in the world had already seen her potty dance. She just hoped the delivery person wasn’t too cute. She opened the door.

 

The pizza guy could not have been a day over nineteen, way too cute, and stood with a tight smile in front of Tock’s performance. “Are you okay?” he asked. He gave her a once-over as she stood hunched and smiling through knotted brow. One hand was full of cash and the other clutched at the small but obvious damp patch on her yoga pants.

 

“Yeah,” she squeaked, “Just really have to pee. Not a big deal!” She held the bills out with as much dignity as someone in the critical point of a potty emergency could summon. But in bringing up her other hand to take the pizza, the pain and pressure left her no choice but to whimper and release.

 

She could have tried holding the pizza with one hand and clamping the other back over her crotch, in which a hot gusher was now freely filling her yoga pants. Somehow, she prioritized not dropping the pizza, instead jumping past the delivery guy out the front door before the pee started hitting the ground.

 

It was the only time since starting her holding habit that she had ever had a proper accident. The flow kept up to the point where it spread no further in her pants, instead just running down or straight through the saturated fabric. At least with the way she held her cross-legged posture while wetting, she found the point where she could get no wetter no matter how much she had in her. “I’m SO sorry,” she said, as warm piss continued to spill over her tanned feet to spread on the stoop, “This has literally never happened to me before.”

 

“It’s okay,” the delivery guy said, but it was clear he was doing his best to retreat to his car and let the awkward business come to an end. Tock had long abandoned trying to get control back.  She let her bladder drain. All that was left was to wring out her pants and flick pee drops off her hands while his car all but skidded out of the driveway. Though the wetting cost her no points because she had gotten outside in time, it would definitely earn her a long-lived reputation at the pizza parlor as “the pee girl” once her story got around. Chilly and reeking of piss, but satisfied that her dripping had stopped, Tock sighed. It figured this kind of incident came with the territory of playing a pee game from the mind of Tink.

 

The aforementioned younger sister had been taking cover just inside the door, all but devouring her hand to keep from squealing while feasting her eyes on the scene. “I can’t believe it,” she said, quivering with a forced calm and finally out from her hiding spot, “I lived to see the day… when Tock, the holder of all holders, peed her pants.”

            Tock laughed at her momentousness, but was a little bit touched to hear that Tink admired her bladder control so much. When standing in soaking pants, every little prop to her battered ego was welcome. “Yeah, well, enjoy it,” she said, turning around and presenting her drenched front for a better view, “Because it’s worth no points and isn’t gonna happen all the time. And I guarantee you’re a little wet yourself, Miss Tinkler.”

 

Tink had been standing at the threshold with a hand buried in the crotch of her cotton shorts. “Nuh-uh!” she shot back on reflex. When she pulled her hand away for proof, a wet spot a few inches across betrayed her. “Okay, maybe. But thanks for the idea.” 

 

She scampered forward much like her sister had, taking a wide stance in the grass to release a foamy fountain through her shorts. With freshly-wet Tock as the only observer, Tink had no shame about letting out a loud moan of relief. 

 

Temporarily numb to her own discomfort, Tock watched the younger girl’s performance. She herself may have been better at holding than Tink, but were it possible, her little sister was absolutely better at wetting herself. Tock had made a huge mess-- saturating half the material of her pants, slicking her hands and feet, and leaving a sprawling puddle on the walkway. Tink, meanwhile, may as well have been doing this her entire life. She had settled steady as a rock into her spread-legged posture. Her eyes fluttered closed. A stream poured straight down from her crotch to make a temporary nest of bubbles in the grass before being absorbed out of view. The wet spot on her shorts had scarcely gotten any bigger in the time between her little leaks and a full release.

 

Tink’s chirping voice brought Tock out of her semi-trance. “Even after going in the sink, I feel like this is the real good pee in days!”

 

Tock smiled. At least the game was challenging for Tink too, even if she wasn’t nearly as saturated at the moment. “I know the feeling, I guess.” Even with cold, smelly pants clinging to her, Tock was reminded to savor this brief period of being blessedly empty before the next trouble spot came about. “Can I at least get out of these pants without it counting as a change of clothes?”

 

Tink shrugged as she carefully stepped away from her muddy pee-puddle and squeezed out her shorts, wiping her hands on the sides afterward in much the same way Tock had done. It left dark, finger-shaped streaks on the coral fabric. It was as if the younger girl had no intention ever to be dry again. She stood with her hands on her hips, as unembarrassed as a girl could be about having pee-soaked shorts, and nodded. “Yeah, it only counts as a change if you put clean stuff on. Pro-tip, you probably shouldn’t sit on anything for a little while. And bring the pizza in! It’s getting cold!” She finished wiping her feet on the welcome mat and bade her older sister to hurry back inside.

 

Tink helped herself to a slice while Tock stripped off her sodden pants, leaving them to soak in the bathroom sink. The sharp odor that had taken hold in her nostrils was coming from her own underwear this time. Per the rules of the game it was in her best interest not to change, so for the time being, that smell would be hers. That was okay though. Wetting herself, let alone staying in wet things, was something Tock once might have thought of as simply not an option. Too gross to fathom and too mortifying to endure. An irony not lost on the girl who made a point to delay her toilet visits on purpose. But with how Tink embraced pissy clothes so eagerly and so often, and yet survived to tell the tale, maybe Tock had let her imagination and social expectations get away from her. Realistically, the way she potty-danced and grabbed her crotch with no shame in front of everyone often enough to win her a nickname, was probably not much less humiliating than actually peeing.
 

Making the difference was the fact that until just now, at least since she was a toddler, Tock had never wet like that. Not ever enough to show at least and certainly not enough to empty herself, in front of Tink or otherwise. It was justifiable to potty-dance the way she did while away from a bathroom. That was kind of the whole point. But how often did people actually pee themselves? That remained the domain of very young children and the extraordinarily unlucky. Privately, Tock had been scandalized standing there in the grass, but had no time to process the loss of her dry streak. Anyone old enough to go to school and was not named Tink simply did not pee themselves under any circumstances, even during weird games. Yet, the younger girl didn’t laugh, or tease, and had taken it in stride as if it were the most normal thing in the world. As normal as any mentor giving guidance to a student. Tonight, it was a way for Tock to feel a bit closer to the little wet stinkbug.

5: Warm Relations

 

Coming to grips with the smell was not the end of Tock’s acceptance of her accident. With how notorious her sister was for being wet all the time, that should have been the end of the awkwardness. Still, now that Tock faced wandering around the house with only pee-damp panties below the waist, she had found a new level to her feelings of exposure. Somehow it was equal parts nerve-wracking and exciting. She joined Tink by kneeling on the floor, enjoying her pizza at the coffee table. Being damp and uncovered meant she got goosebumps on her clammy thighs, but she scooted over to rub against Tink for warmth. The younger sister, feeling a little wet and chilly herself, didn’t complain.

 

Tink broke the silence after they had gotten a bit warmer and more full of dinner. “So, I didn’t even ask before, but are you okay?”

 

“Yeah?” Tock replied, swallowing her bite of pizza. The question seemed to come out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

 

Tink chuckled. “I mean you full-on peed yourself for like the first time ever, in front of that hot pizza guy! You know if it was me I wouldn’t have cared, but I was hoping you weren’t mad, or ready to quit the game or anything.”

 

Tock scoffed back and gave her a fake-offended bump with her shoulder. “No I’m not mad at you! As if it wasn’t gonna happen sooner or later. Besides, it kinda felt good? And you’re not getting my prize money that easily, either. We are still on, girl.”

 

Tink flicked her eyebrows upward, revitalized by Tock’s commitment to the contest. “Glad to hear it. And it does feel good! Why else do you think after that time in school I started doing it all the time?”

 

“I dunno, because you’re weird?”

 

Tink laughed. “Well, that too.”

 

The girls put away a fair portion of pizza and water by the end of the night. A final pee was part of the pre-bedtime routine for each of them on a normal day. This time, the need arose with a unique zeal. 

 

“Ugh,” Tink groaned, squirming and clawing between her legs in a fashion much like her sister usually did, “I didn’t think this far ahead.” Her bladder soreness made it so that even the slightest amount of urine carried her straight into an emergency. Nor could she simply go in the toilet like on any previous night. Her teddy bear sentinel still stood his post.

 

Tink’s confession, plus looking in the mirror above the bathroom sink made Tock notice her own shifting and wiggling that had until now been automatic. Comparing the sharpness of her urge to last time, she had only minutes to put a plan into action before watering the floor. The simple knowledge that she even had a real limit caused her some dread. But the effort sunk into holding completely scrambled her thoughts. She attempted to apply toothpaste to her toothbrush, but didn’t want to sacrifice the hand on her underwear, which now bore a portentous swath of pee residue.

 

Tink beat her older sister to the understanding that was coming to her anyway. “Well, I don’t know about you,” Tink said, “But I gotta go, am not in the mood to come up with a new place, and am not even really dry yet anyway so I’m gonna do this.” She stepped into the shower and didn’t even bother to squat, standing with her legs barely apart before pee sprayed out from between them. Her bright shorts grew dark and shiny in the crotch once again, as if being all one color was the real unnatural state. Rivulets sprung to life on both her thighs. A stream falling freely out of one pant leg pounded the shower floor, turning the skin of her feet sparkly with the splatter.

 

The show made Tock pause her pee-dance and gape, if only for a few moments. She resumed dancing but asked, “You’re not going to bed like that, are you?”

 

Running the water to rinse the pee off her legs and the shower stall, Tink gave a grin that was full of mischief. “Nope. I still have one change of clothes left.”

 

Tock’s eyes grew wide. The little rat did! The older sister would have stopped moving again out of shock if she weren’t so pressed to pee herself, now even closer to the edge after watching and listening to such a stunt. It occurred to her that the stall was still available for a recorded go. Now was as good a time as any.

 

At least, it would have been, had Tock’s bladder muscles not started trembling and slackening while making that choice. She was already cupping pee in her hands that had run through her panties by the time she was ready. About out of fight, she reconsidered pulling them down. It was another first for her that rather than going through a complete failure of her bladder like she had outside, this time, there was an element of deliberately letting go.

 

Unlike her sister, Tock did decide to squat, gripping the soap caddie for balance while a vigorous urine stream rewarmed her underwear. She suddenly understood why Tink made little issue out of doing it standing. The pee went everywhere anyway, pooling around her feet and making a dense pattern of flecks as high up as her ankles. Tock had saved almost nothing by her effort at staying low.

 

Tink, catching the flash of doubt across her sister’s face, was looking on as if in the audience of a magic show. “Tock! Are you... wetting on purpose?”

 

Tock sheepishly met her sister’s eyes. The younger girl’s tone was less alarmed than it was pleasantly proven wrong. Tock glanced back at the pee stream trilling warmly through her underwear for the second time today. “Yeah, I guess I am.” She let profound relief envelop her until her bladder emptied. Once it was over, she was still alive and well, the only lasting effect being a pair of panties as wet and clingy as they had been that afternoon. Not nearly as severe a consequence as she once imagined. The whole situation suddenly made her feel sort of proud of herself. 

 

Tink raised her eyebrows. “Well, you have one change left if you want to use it, but seeing you in peed panties is pretty wild.” The younger sister’s own crotch was still very wet too. For the moment, the pair again were pissy twins.

 

Tock squeezed out the gusset of her underwear, not bothering to try finding enough dry space on them to wipe her fingers. She chose the lower part of her shirt instead. She felt like passing on her second clothes-change. Wearing the panties she had peed in on purpose, as close as it had been, seemed to have a different effect on her than after the accident. Getting pee on herself, territory she had once almost superstitiously avoided, now all but beckoned her forward. Granted she still didn’t get enjoyment from it as fundamentally as Tink might, but it was one less thing to fear. One more piece of proof that she was not dependent on the toilet for her bladder needs. Tink’s natural inclination to bring her into the fold of casual wetters might turn out to be a fearsome equalizer for Tock in the contest. Little sis might have relied on her readiness to get wet as an advantage. But should the need arise, Tock now had the same ability. When Tock got in bed after repeating Tink’s rinsing of her feet in the shower stall, the dampness and lingering tang of pee in her nose reminded her that the game had only just begun.

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1 hour ago, PeeHour said:

Your writing skills are top-tier, I took some mental notes! You're very technically skilled (at least from what I can tell). Great job! I'm liking this story and am looking forward to the next part!

 

My only complaint would be the age of the sisters. (I know their age isn't specifically mentioned, but Tock is only a junior, so Tink must be even younger).  It makes sense story-wise, but I found myself aging them up to over 18 in my 'headcanon.'

Thank you so much! Are you the one that writes "Told To Go"? I've been enjoying that story for days now, definitely seeing the similarities between Tori and my girls hehe.

Sorry it's hard for you to enjoy with them being underage for Americans, but I felt that kind of character development and goofy game would take place before they hit adulthood. I've always been drawn to younger characters less for the sexual aspect than the way to share in discovering themselves.

I don't know if I can be as prolific as you but keep an eye out for several more chapters. 🙂

Edited by AliasnameTO (see edit history)
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  • 3 weeks later...

6: River of Dreams

 

Tink climbed into bed after getting some clean underwear and another oversized T-shirt she used as a nightgown. This was shaping up to be one of the best weeks of her life. Her sister showed a trooper’s resilience to the challenge, especially with the decision to continue after that major accident. No matter who clinched the win in the end, this wet vacation could already be considered an outstanding success.

 

Like for actual troopers too, nightfall was not time-out. The realization caused Tink to flick her eyes open in bed. She had to run an idea by Tock, hopefully before she fell asleep.

 

The dampness in the older sister’s panties had barely begun to warm under the covers when her bedroom door cracked open. 

 

“Sorry if you were asleep,” Tink whispered in announcing herself, “But I thought of something.”

    Tock had not quite fallen asleep, so grunted acknowledgement. “Yeah, what is it?”

 

“Know how the rules say we have to watch each other when we go? Well, what if one of us has to go at night? We’d have to wake the other person up.”

 

That thought did not sound fun, but Tink was right. “Yeah, so?” Tock replied. “Unless you want after bedtime to be solo pee.”

 

“Heck no, no easy mode,” Tink said, banishing the thought. “I just feel like if one of us has to go, it would be too easy to cheat. Or at least if I have to go, I’m gonna forget to bring you and get points that way. Could we sleep in the same room to make it easier?”

 

Tock contemplated the proposal. It was pretty clear they were both having way too much fun playing fair to think about cheating, but a little extra security wouldn’t hurt. “I guess. You want the floor or sharing the bed?”

 

The little sister thought for only a beat. “The bed, please? I don’t feel like setting up on the floor. If you don’t mind, at least.”

 

It would be the first time they shared a bed in years, but not the first time ever. “Fine by me. Just don’t pee in it.” Tock slid over to let her in. The comment was mostly meant to tease her, but the idea of Tink wetting her older sister’s bed was not impossible. Tock had just begun to accept the sensations of her own pee on her. Somebody else’s should not be all that different. Whatever. If it happened, Tink would get a point and have to clean it up. She stopped worrying about it.

 

The next thing Tock knew, she and her sister were sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom of their old apartment. The TV was on but she was not particularly paying attention. Instead, she was watching Tink sitting cross-legged in her baggy sleep shirt. She was trying not to be obvious, but Tock could tell what was going on. Tink’s bladder pushed so strongly, her sister could feel it herself. “Somebody has to go potty,” Tock teased, kneading her own crotch. “You’re making me have to go too.” She glanced at the toilet right there in the room.

 

“No I don’t,” Tink said, drawing her knees up in the way she did so often when she held it. When Tock got a glimpse of her underwear, however, the gusset was dry.

 

“You’d better go before you have an accident,” Tock warned.

 

“Ugh, fine!” Tink answered. She rose to her feet and plopped onto the closed toilet lid. A geyser of pee sprayed up and out from between her legs. Tock immediately felt the release in her own bladder and was pelted with her sister’s warm shower on her left thigh. That Tink had utterly flooded the room and covered her with pee was no worry. She had made it to the toilet. 

 

Tink’s voice mumbled in her ear. She was once again back in her current bedroom catching the lavender-colored rays of dawn, but the feeling of pee from the dream lingered.

 

“Tock,” the little sister repeated, climbing over her sister in trying to escape the puddle, “You’re peeing the bed.”

 

Yeah right. She shook the haze of sleep off herself. Very funny. She might have done a little, but no doubt most of it was Tink. The older girl hadn’t peed the bed since that one time when she was seven, and… had a dream about peeing. She felt her crotch; it was soaked. Her sister had only a few damp spots on her shirt from lying beside the culprit.

    Tock sat up in her mess, which squelched as she shifted. Her mattress might never be the same. “Shit, sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Tink soothed, leaning over to hug her before bouncing as her playful spirit returned, “It just means we’re even on points now.”

 

Tock flopped back down, not even caring about her shirt in the wet spot. A wave of some gloomy feeling– grief? seemed to overtake her and she did not know why. Tink was right– it ultimately wasn’t that big a deal. She’d get cleaned up, take her point like a big girl, and that would be the end of it. On the surface, even the prospect of a defiled mattress did not upset her. Her parents would not be mad should they ever find out, and she had discovered since Tink’s wetting habit began that the scent of pee was not in itself unpleasant either. It was a marker of the happiness that she and her sister had managed to reap from so basic a function.

 

The feeling of grief, she determined, came from the sense that there was no going back. No matter what happened in her life from now on, she was a girl who had soaked her bed at seventeen. That knowledge would stay with her forever. Already she imagined her future self-confidence taking a hit. If she was not mature enough to stay dry at night despite being on the verge of adulthood, then when?

 

Tink’s fussing brought her sister out of her wet navel-gazing. She still stood by the side of the bed, squirming and letting out little sounds. “Mm, now what?” Tink mused. “Can I pee on your bed too? It’s already wet so it shouldn’t count as a mess.”

 

“What?!” Tock said.

    Please,” Tink urged, jumping and wringing the hem of her shirt. Seeing how the girl’s bladder control deteriorated over a few days of hardship, she might have already started going.

 

Tock sighed. Saying no would mean Tink would probably pee on the floor and get another point, but also make a huge puddle in her room. Screw it, it was a special occasion. “Fine,” she said, “But don’t get any on my pillow.”

 

The younger sister, like a high-jumper, managed to clear Tock and land on her own side of the bed. A noisy spray signaled her landing. “Ah,” Tink indulged, letting her head fall back on the pillow while her pee spilled everywhere– her shirt, legs, and the sheets, merging with Tock’s puddle. “I’m sorry about your bed, but did it feel this good for you too?”

 

Tock blushed, but told the truth. “Yeah.” She had obviously not tried to get up yet either. The wet, faintly smelly expanse was something she wished could last forever. Keeping her eyes closed, she asked Tink, “Does it ever occur to you that we are really messed up?”

The more freshly-wet sister laughed. “You wet the bed while playing a hardcore peeing game. I pee myself like all the time and don’t even feel bad. Who’s more messed up?”

That got a smile out of her. “Good point.” They both lay there in their mutual dampness for a few more minutes before Tock spoke again. “Seriously though, we are not gonna be able to make it through school like this. You wanna take a break today?”

Tink propped herself on her elbow when turning to her sister, making a fresh squelchy noise. “Like call a time-out from the game?”

 

“Yeah,” Tock resigned, figuring they would have to go back to reality eventually. “Or… we could give ourselves a break while staying in the game.”

    “Yeah, how?”

 

“We go to the pool.”

 

Tink’s eyes lit up. “I like the way you think.”

 

The public pool was out of bike range, but Tock could drive now, and had permission to borrow her mom’s car while both parents were away. As morally grey as it was to pee in the pool, they would likely not be the only ones doing so.

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