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I am moving this from the account I have on deviantart.com because I found out in their privacy policy that "no depictions of urine" are allowed there (understandable). So, here we are. If you want to get the preceeding fictions by chieftaindan and splashfics, you can, but I am no longer providing links to those literary works directly.

===ORIGINAL DEVIANTART POST===

Chapter 01: A Vacation

Hello! I’m finally starting on this after writing down a plan. Anyway, shoutout to chieftaindan on Amy’s Pee Spree, and splashfics who fanfictioned a sequel: Amy’s “Second Wind.” Those two stories are precursors to this short starting chapter. It is short partially because I planned out a rather long story and don’t want to burn out trying to get it all down, but also because while writing it I needed to pee...

Amy couldn’t understand it. She was sitting in her bathroom on Friday evening, reading a business email while she had her weekly pee, and had been pissing for about half an hour whilst trying to comprehend it. She usually would’ve moved on to cat videos by now, which made her laugh and thus finish pissing sooner. Though it sometimes made a water mess, she still liked to do it anyway because of how amazing it felt to pee even harder than her usual when she laughed.
But right now she was mostly just confused, almost as much as an average woman would be if they were having her bladder to pee with right now.
The email, no matter how much she tried to interpret it otherwise, was an alert that she was being given a complementary three day employee appreciation vacation to Otherland, all expenses paid. It wasn’t a scam, it was her job’s company email. She even clicked the link, which took her to her company’s employee-only page, verifying what she had read. How was this possible after only two weeks of workmanship? Amy was good, but was she that good?
Surely this was a mistake. Nobody gets that much plush from their employer, do they?
Plush. That reminded her of how she had left her last job. So much peeing in so many places...
*Sigh*
She was already wondering about doing a pee spree again. Not quite like last time where it was an act of revenge, though. She had readily felt very guilty about that. She almost wanted to go back and check to make sure everything was alright with the hotel, but that would probably give her away. She wrote her former employer’s wife a card, though.

But she still wanted to pee in extraordinary places.
She had filled all the watertight containers in her own apartment a few times, which was fun, but it wasn’t NEARLY enough capacity to empty a week’s worth of pee. If she drank extra, it might not even hold a day’s worth coming from her kidneys. She wanted to DO something with all that pee, not just shoot it down the white porcelain black-hole every Friday night like she didn’t appreciate her bladder’s amazingly well done work to keep her dry. But here she was, giving it no special treatments or challenges whatsoever, just emptying a tiny ONE week’s worth of pee into the drain.

She was finishing up already.

Drat, was she training her bladder to hold less? Desperately, she searched on her phone for videos of water and pee. Thankfully, a tickle soon appeared, and with some focused promotion, a full fledged blast came jetting out for another seventeen minutes.
“There. I knew you wouldn’t let me finish so soon,” she cooed affectionately to her bladder as she continued to pee like a series of elephants, assuming they actually pee that much. Now, to think about that vacation…


Meanwhile, some miles away in the town, a man was making a phone call after returning home from the lab.
“Yes, they sent the email. She’ll be coming your way soon.”
“…”
“Heh, if they ever do find out, it’ll be in the next millennium.”
“..!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll cover some tracks, but…”
“- …: ..!”
“Don’t worry, they won’t find anything.”
“… ..”
“I’ll see that she gets to the airport.”
“..”
“Good luck.” *Clunk!*

Chapter 02: Golden Cab

With a smile on her face, Amy stepped outside the airport. It had been a pretty mild flight, except for when she had been selected for secondary screening, and now here she was in Lapis, Otherland. Incidentally, so was about a kilolitre and a half of pee that she had saved up before and during the flight, just in case of a special occasion (hence her accidental smirking when clearance had mentioned the 8 oz liquid limit, hence the secondary). Heading out to the row of taxis, one cab driver in particular got out and came to her directly. He looked kind, but a little anxious.

“ACMEcab inc, may I take your bags, ma’am?”

Amy was confused, but gladly accepted help. She had rather overpacked. “Uhh, sure. I’m going to the Blanxton Motel..?”

“Blanxton Motel,” he repeated, “I know the way. Kind of an obscure little place at the edge of town. Nice view, though.” He hurriedly packed her bags in the trunk, then made one last look around before helping her into the cab. Something Told Amy to be wary about the situation, so as she got in, she checked that the child protection lock on the door was off. It was, and the door opened from the inside quite easily. The driver didn’t notice this check as he got in, and they were soon zipping along through low use roads.

“This wouldn’t be the route I would’ve thought of taking,” Amy commented, turning to look outside and around them. Although they were in semi-homogenous suburbs, some of the building styles were very beautiful, and she even saw a family or two outside. There were a couple nicer cars driving around here too, which was unexpected for such an area.

“Yeah, I know, right? Less traffic this way. Besides, I wouldn’t wanna spoil the sights for you while you’re on jet lag.” Amy couldn’t argue, the two second delay in most of her actions was preventative of sight seeing. “So, this your first time flying?”

“Yeah,” she answered, “How’d you know?”

“You look kinda full back there.” For a moment Amy thought that he was somehow referring to her bladder (which was feeling rather full with all the ups and downs of the road, and with her feeling so weary from the flight), then realized he was talking about her luggage.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” he encouraged her, “It’s an easy error to make. You should’ve seen… my early packing.” Amy didn’t understand why he had suddenly paused and gotten more quiet. She realized for the first time that he did not have an Otherlandian accent, and what’s more that she thought he was cute.

But soon she was distracted by something else. An expensive car she was sure she had seen at least twice earlier had just appeared for the third time, and appeared to be loosely following them. She noted that the frontal windows were tinted. “You have a good time, alright?” the driver added in his usual tone. Amy changed the subject.

“Can you take a right here?” she said. The car had repeatedly weaved in and out of the houses on their left, so maybe it was looking for something over there.

“Umm, sure,” the driver said, and turned.

Amy watched carefully, and sure enough, like a dreaming urge to pee, the same car slowly reappeared, following them on the left. She turned around, and took a deep, shaky breath as she subconsciously crossed her legs. They definitely were being followed. On top of that, all that stress was making her bladder contract, and she now needed to pee rather badly.

Amy began searching for options to escape the ominous unknowns behind them, but what could she do? Was she absolutely sure this cab driver could be trusted?

“Hey,” he asked unexpectedly, “did I leave my company manual under the front passenger’s seat?” Amy bent over to check, but as she did, she heard the sound of shattered glass above her twice. The cab driver swerved to the right unexpectedly, and picked up speed. “Get back up!” the driver said briefly.

“What happe…” Amy started, before looking at the rear window and seeing two large shatter marks emitting from single points on the glass. Turning to look behind them, she saw the tailing car follow them down an alley, and a figure leaning out of it aiming a pistol at her?!?!

That was too much. Without thinking, Amy started screaming, though somewhere in her mind she noticed that it seemed to be half from her mouth and half in her lower body.

“Brace yourself,” the cab driver said, and made a series of illegal turns that took them onto a wider street. Amy leaned forward and grabbed the two seats in front of her, still yelling at the top of her lungs. “Please stop screaming,” the driver added with a sharp quick tone. A third shot struck them on metal. He picked up speed, then said, “Put your head between your knees: Brace for impact.” Amy began to do so, but immediately discovered something that would have been alarming if she had discovered it earlier.

She was wetting herself, hard. She whimpered in dismay, but a sudden jerk of deceleration convinced her to obey anyway. She continued to pee, all over her lower head, unable to regain control. Thankfully, most of the stream was actually getting caught by her panties and skirt, flowing onto the floor from there.

*Wham!* They rear-ended the other vehicle. The cab driver began to accelerate again, and took a turn off the main road. “Sorry about your luggage,” the driver said. Amy got up, ready to stop being peed on, but she noticed rather quickly that she had a lot to be thankful for. The passenger bay floor was already well over an inch deep in pee, a small waterfall pouring from her.

“What’s that noise?” the driver asked, confused.

“It’s my pee!” Amy answered helplessly.

“Your what?”

“My pee. I pee in ridiculously huge amounts!” she yelled as they overturned some garbage cans, the other car not too far behind.

“Drat,” he said, “we’re too light to damage their car much. We need to get out of here. How?” *Bang!* another shot hit the glass.

Amy turned around and screamed nonsensically, “Why are you shooting me?! What have I done?!”

“They’re not shooting at you, they’re shooting at me,” the driver interjected, “Cappuccino wants you alive, and this proves it. These are local mercs, which means they’re dumb, but not dumb enough to shoot at me while your in the left hand seat.” The shooting outside continued. “They needed you to come here so they could kidnap you, which is why they sent you that vacation.”

Amy stood still a moment in shock, trying to lean over and avoid bullets. “So this whole vacation is a lie? But what about my company’s email?”

“Cappuccino has men that could’ve hacked into the system and made it look like a glitch. That they can do from anywhere in the world, so he picks the best.” The driver stopped explaining as a wave of pee overflowed onto his feet. He looked over his shoulder a moment, then asked off topic, “How’d you hold that much?!”

“I pee A LOT,” was the despairing answer.

“Bit it’s not possible…” he started to say, and trailed off.

“I overflowed a swimming pool this month,” Amy explained. The driver looked back at her in utter disbelief, but as he saw the growing tide on the floor now submerging his shoes, he began to accept the notion that she was holding far more pee than she possibly could but somehow still was, and started making a plan.

“Keep peeing,” he said, “I’ve got an idea.” With that, he made a move towards a different part of the area with more hills.

“Wha-what do you mean?” Amy asked, helplessly obeying him.

“How much do you think you can fill this car?”

Well, that was unexpected.

“Uhh, to the top I guess,” she answered, starting to regain control over her bladder. She was beginning to notice that none of the bullets had penetrated the glass, and suspected it must be bullet proof.

“Alright,” he confirmed, “We don’t have time for that, but if you can get us to about half full with… pee (?!?!)… by the time we reach those hills, I think we can rear end these people hard enough to do some damage.” Amy looked down at her bladder, just beginning to shut off from regaining of control.

“Alright,” she said. She pulled down her panties, and pissed for dear life. Harder and harder she peed, soon reaching her record speed of about 60 lpm. For once in her life, Amy actually needed to pee much harder than her usual. She pushed with all her might. Her face was blushed, her back was pressing hard against the seat, and she was groaning and squirming with the effort as the pee shot out like an industrial water cannon.

Then she realized that the driver’s seat was deforming to the force of her jet. It was not hard backed, and that meant the cab driver was feeling every minute of this.

With a loud, “aaAahaAAAH!” Amy’s sudden naughty thought motivated her bladder to new heights, letting her pee about 1.25x harder than before, and a little later that much again, until she was peeing at about 160% her usual strength (and she felt like there was still more she could do still). But before that, the pee had already risen up and caught the stream, her crotch soon underwater. This slowed the erotic sense down. Thankfully, however, she remained at about 160%, and after they had gained some distance up a one way street on a hill, the driver shouted, “Now!”

Amy braced for impact (taking a deep breath first out of necessity as while the driver was only up to his waist, she was up to her shoulders in pee). With a gigantic slosh that submerged the dashboard momentarily, they stopped, then went into reverse, aiming for the other car. The trailers tried to avoid the shot, but not well enough considering the damage it would do to their vehicle. *WHAM!!* Amy felt pee flow past her closed eyes as their momentum offset her sense of balance, which frankly made her urethra a little nervous, and she started losing a little control again. Then she felt the car swerve around, and rose up out of her pee just in time to see the driver, now on the low end of the car, fumble for the door handle. He had been planning to drain it out this way, but obviously had misestimated just how much she had peed (having only a “front seat view,” she thought humorously). He did finally get the door open, and about 160-180 gallons of pee washed out onto the pavement. Amy gave an amazed/relieved sigh as she slowly regained control from the dizziness, and noted that the bad guys car was totaled. She didn’t have much time to look though as they were already driving away, towards something other than the Blanxton Motel. The driver was baffled.

Amy finally asked, “So, who are you, anyway?”

“CIA agent,” he answered, “My name’s Lawrence.” He turned around and smiled, though Amy could plainly see his veiled shock at her amazing bladder. Then, unexpectedly, he made a slight confused look downward, and rapidly turned away from her with a somber expression on his face. Before Amy could ask why, he explained in the rearview mirror, “You… forgot to pull up your panties.”

Thank goodness she was wearing a skirt.

Chapter 03: Kidnapping

By the time the two had arrived at the beach house Lawrence had selected as a temporary stopping place for the night, it was nearing sunset. They were several miles from the airport or Blanxton, and had switched cars to help cover their tracks (and because the smell in the previous cab had been overwhelming, although strangely it did not smell quite like average pee as Lawrence pointed out, using public restrooms as an example. Amy had always assumed the pee in there was stagnant or something).

Arriving at the garage, Lawrence pointed a general-purpose looking device at the garage door, and pressed a couple buttons. It began to emit a series of beeps, upon one of which the door opened. He pressed a red stop button, and the device halted the sequence.

“Did you just break into a garage?” Amy asked.

“Yes and no,” Lawrence answered, “This house is rented by the agency under a civilian alias. When an agent needs to use it, we have the tools to get in. The agency gets notified after the fact, so I don’t have to ask for keys to stay the night.”

“Oh, good,” Amy said, shifting her weight, and not quite paying solid attention. All the adrenaline from earlier was still having its effects: It had either made her bladder tighten up and become temporarily more sensitive, made her process water a lot faster than usual, or probably both. Regardless, she was feeling an unusually finicky urge to pee, though it was thankfully nowhere near a state of emergency yet.

After Lawrence had gotten all the doors rekeyed and bypassed the security system, Amy discovered to her dismay that there was only one bathroom. Lawrence saw her frustration and offered to let her shower first, but that was not the problem. It was her massive but currently out-of-sorts bladder. On any other day, the lone bathroom would have been no problem. But after that morning, she wasn’t sure if she could make it all the way through his shower. Her frightened bladder seemed a bit unpredictable right now, and even if he was a nice guy, she was not going to pee next to him while he was both completely naked and an almost-complete stranger.

But there was no way she was going to make him wait and chafe while she went pee for who knows how long.

With courageous determination, she insisted he go first, and that she was fine. Thankfully, he accepted without seeming to perceive her reasons.

But she needed to pee.

Amy was actually crossing her legs, and when Lawrence turned on the shower, she declared a state of emergency. Something about the shower head was making a loud splattering noise, and she could hear Lawrence saying something that sounded like it might be damaged. She didn’t wait to clarify though, she couldn’t wait. Her bladder was too nervous and full to hold on much longer. Squirming wildly, she waddled into the kitchen, hoping for a sink. Of course, there was one. She lifted her leg to climb up on the counter…

“AAAAAH!” *Danger!*

Forget that idea. She would have the floor soaked long before she even got up there. Desperate, she went back out to the living room to see if there was any way of peeing that she’d missed.

The hot tub out on the balcony.

The glass door was open in seconds, and with a great effort, she got the cover off the tub without leaking. Thankfully, there was a sort of step ladder for getting into the tub, so once she actually did have to spread her legs much, she was already over the - WHEEEE!!!

*Splat! Rrrumble!* as her pee hit the plastic bottom of the empty hot tub. It felt sooo wonderful to be peeing, she almost fell, and loosely slumped down into the hot tub seat, slowly being covered in warm piss.

This was much nicer than the taxi had been.

The pee deflected off of her seat and hit the other side of the tub with a noticeable splashing. It filled up past her shoes (which she slowly kicked off),

then up her calves (which tickled a little),

then caught her stream on the in-between place (yikes! The warmth made her want to pee more), and slowly warmth-ed its way up her belly. It had been chilly drying off in the cars with the windows open, and this “hot bath” was just what she needed.

But…

Her stream was slowing down. She could feel it. As the pee edged to the top of the pool, it got slower and slower, until it finally stopped about an inch before the edge, just over her shoulders.

“Huh, you’re kidding me,” she said wearily (for the exact opposite reason that most people would say it if their pee had just overfilled a hot tub), but she didn’t really care just then. The strange un-pee-like smell around her actually was comforting now that it was not so strong, and whatever was in her felt good to her skin. Maybe she could stay there for awhile. Wearily, she reached over and turned the heating system on. Good, the pee was a bit warmer than the default setting, so she wouldn’t overheat during the night. She slowly closed her eyes, her head falling back on the cushioned edge of the tub, and wondered if Lawrence would be done soon…

“Alright, I’m out!” Lawrence said as he emerged from the bathroom with a towel over his face. “Listen, uhh, after you wash, do you want supper? Or are you just gonna go to…”

He stopped when he saw Amy asleep in the hot tub, the lights glowing softly around her. She looked so serene and peaceful.

Yes, she could stay there for the night. She wouldn’t fall. He would just sleep on the couch with his gun in case she needed anything.

Funny though, they usually didn’t leave the hot tubs filled when no-one was staying here, but he was sure the beach house was unused. He would have to check that…

In Amy’s Dreamworld…

Amy was lying in a coffin after living she wasn’t sure how long, but it had been a good earthly life. Lawrence, her old buddy from that one vacation she had with the beach house in Otherland, was doing a speech, and it was really nice. All her coworkers were there, and even her boss who hadn’t changed a bit in like, 60 years (alright, maybe his hair was grey).

The coffin was unusually hard, so she supposed the pillows must be cheaper than they looked, but it was nice and warm, strangely.

Thing was she needed to pee.

Now how’s a dead person supposed to get up and go to the bathroom? She would have to wait until the service was over, then she could go Home, but for now she had to wait. But, she needed to pee sooo badly, and it hardly mattered anyway. Maybe she could just let a little pee slip. Before she knew it, she was already wetting, heavily. Thankfully, the warm clothes seemed to be quite thick as well, slowing the pee down, but she realized to her dismay that, her body being dead, she had no control to stop. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to worry about drowning either. That was a relief. But what about the coffin overfilling? It would flow all over the front. Bother! She was going to indirectly pee all over Lawrence’s shoes! His nice, neat, CIA shoes and socks that he had just managed to get the stain out from last time. Already the pee was peeking up over the edges of the padding, (though somehow not submerging her head… oh, yes, the coffin must be tilted), and it began to spill out in Ernest soon after. She could hear it flowing down the stage, and then… how awful! Lawrence stopped, obviously shocked and sad about his shoes. The entire crowd gasped with shock (and some amazement), and there was a silence as pee continued to make trickling noises as it flowed thickly into the aisles.

But suddenly there was a feeling of relief (emotionally, that is). It was like Lawrence had been disbelieved or verbally trapped before, and now everyone knew and understood at once just how much Amy really could pee, and Lawrence was vindicated. For those who already knew the story, the event was a nostalgic reminder. Conversation resumed in the chapel, but Amy somehow knew Lawrence was just quietly smiling, looking at his wetted shoes…

Amy woke up slowly, and the dream faded away.

She discovered to her confusion that she was still in the warm hot tub, and thinking it should be cooled off by now. Then she remembered that the tub was turned on. That seemed to explain the warmth, until she noticed that the reading on the thermometer was more than two degrees higher than the setting on the thermostat, and that pee was overflowing from the tub as she continued to wet herself (if that was possible). Not how? She had finished peeing last night, hadn’t she? Maybe the extra state of relaxation and the warm liquid all around her had made her more free to wet her proverbial bed. But how much had she peed after she had “finished?” Looking about for further explanation, she saw something that took her breath away.

Trailing out from the balcony towards the sea was a wide stained area of wet sand, leading to ocean that had TURNED YELLOW!!?!?!

Jumping up in shock and feeling the sudden pull of post-buoyancy combined with sleep and the coldness of evaporating pee from her skin, Amy was ten-to-one sure she was awake. She blinked her eyes, standing on the edge of the hot tub, and still peeing quite forcefully in her sopping wet clothes. The ocean remained as golden yellow as it could be. She followed the wet sand trail back up the beach with her eyes until they met with her still peeing lower self, and given the circumstances, did what was probably (even for her) the most natural thing in the world.

She screamed at the top of her lungs.

Lawrence immediately came tumbling out onto the porch, blanket tangled around his leg, almost breaking the door to get outside. He searched about a moment with his pistol, but identifying no threat, he turned to her.

“What?! What’s wrong?”

“Th-there, look!” she stammered as she frantically forced her stream to stop, and pointed at the ocean. Lawrence looked, and there was a moment of silence.

“Oh, commodium…” he said, and Amy resumed screaming. Lawrence turned to her and said, “Look, it has to be local. You didn’t actually fill… Oh help!” just as he saw that the second thing she was screaming at was not the same as the first: A gruff looking gunsman had just rounded the corner of the beach house. Lawrence ducked down just in time, and quickly pulled Amy through the open doorway. A bullet from the perpetrator struck him in the arm as he did so. They both tripped on the blanket, and fell to the floor just inside the doorway. When Amy saw that Lawrence was wounded, and heard the shooter coming, she knew she had to do something, and she did the first thing she thought of. She pulled her panties to the side, clenched hard, and just as the man came round the corner, she let him know just how pissed off she was that they would shoot Lawrence at unawares.

Literally, that’s how.

Despite peeing all night to fill a hot tub and flood a beachhead with pee, Amy thankfully found her bladder not quite empty, and blasted a short tsunami of piss right into the attacker’s face as hard as she could. He stumbled back, and moved out of her jet stream. She halted it, having given Lawrence just enough time to aim his weapon… Amy covered her eyes and ears just before the bang came, and turned over before getting up and uncovering them again. Lawrence was also getting up, lightly bleeding in his left arm.

“They must’ve seen the pee trail outside,” Lawrence said. “I should’ve guessed they’d be spying out the area after last night. We’ve got to get out of here.” They were moving through the kitchen to the front door as he spoke, but just as they were turning the corner, a sudden *pelt* noise from behind him made him stop. But it was not by his decision.

Amy watched in horror as Lawrence’s body went limp. He turned to her as he fell, and seeing her despairing face, he said weakly, “Don’ worry, izz tranquilizer.” *flump*

Oh, thank Goodness.

*pelt!*

“Ooh! Should’ve seen that comi-plff.” She said as she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Chapter 04: The Prison

When Amy awoke, she was quite dizzied. The tranquilizer was very slow in wearing off, and while conscious, she was at first very sluggish. On top of that, she was very thirsty. She sat up (or at least she was pretty sure it was up), and discovered that she was wearing a pair of 3D printed metal panties padlocked in place. She was sitting on a concrete floor in what looked like a bunker of some sort. Looking about, she discovered Lawrence, slumped against a wall with his eyes closed.

“Lawrence?” she called to him. He did not respond. She got up, clinking rubble around as she did so, and moved over to him (at first she tried to stand, but almost immediately she fell back on her hands and knees from the lingering effects of the drug). “Lawrence? Lawrence?!” She felt his neck. He was alive, but still unconscious. All she got was some faint grunting. Why hadn’t he woken up yet, but she had? Wouldn’t he be more used to… Oh, right. The metabolism. Amy had almost always outrun drug effect time expectancies by a mile because of her super-kidneys, so this was no exception. The question was, when would he wake up?

At that moment, the door to the cell opened. It appeared to be a reused ship’s door, particularly because of the crude looking concrete molding around it. The man stepping inside the cell was… the shooter from the beach house?!?! He had a stained bandage on his forehead that made him look like a Japanese WWII pilot. Amy scooted back in horror.

“H-how did you not die from that shot?” she panted. He looked at her somewhat stoically. He seemed a bit blank.

“I have a metal skullcap in the front of my head.” He chuckled lightly, and said. “It comes in handy,” before returning to a serious expression and saying, “You, come with me. The man of this house wishes to speak to you on diplomatic terms.” Amy slowly got up, and when she unsteadily arrived, he surprisingly held out his arm to support her. They walked past some guards, down a long flight of stairs, then out a small door into a decorative hallway, then into a side room with a desk. At the desk sat the most handsome thug one can imagine.

When he saw Amy, he got up, and said, “Ah, thank you Rodrigo. Please, sit down miss.” He had a smooth Otherlandian accent. She warily took a seat. Rodrigo stood to the side and behind her as she eyed a large pitcher of clouded liquid with an empty glass next to it. “Are you thirsty?” he said with a creepy sort of politeness.

“Yes…” she said slowly, “but why should I accept a drink from you?” He laughed.

“A prudent first thought,” he said as he got up and began to pace, “but you must realize, miss, that I do not wish to kill you: I could’ve done so already. I very much want you to stay in the best of health, because of… my proposition.” Amy remembered what Lawrence had said. They wanted her alive. She would be safe for now at least. She poured herself a small glass of the liquid, which turned out to be some kind of enhanced water. After two sips, her body was already shooting up green flags and begging her not to be so cautious. She finished the drink quickly, and began to pour a second.

“So, what is your ‘proposition?’” She asked slowly, starting the second glass.

“Quite simple.” He started pacing again. “You, miss, have something that I could very well use, and which you would have a hard time using.”

“And that is?” she asked, more than halfway done with glass #2.

He chuckled as he said, “I will give you three guesses.” Amy paused on pouring the third glass. It was her pee. Was drinking really such a good idea right now?

Yes, it still was. Her bladder was feeling much more stable now, and she was not concerned about wetting.

She continued pouring, and asked, “And why would you want my pee?”

He shrugged and replied, “That is a secret that I will keep to myself at this moment, but let me assure you, miss, that your safety would be absolutely guaranteed, though perhaps not in the location you would choose. I would do everything reasonable within my power to make you comfortable.” She set down the glass and huffed (mostly from having finished the drink, though, and not sarcasm).

“And my other option would be?”

“Then I let you go.”

“Oh, really?” she said more than asked, examining the pattern on the cup. She poured another glass.

“Yes. Unharmed. But you must understand that, wether you agree or refuse, I would be in a delicate position regarding your friend. He is an agent of the law. Did he tell you this?”

From inside the cup, she answered, “Mm-hmm.”

“Did he tell you why he thinks your pee would valuable to me?”

“He doesn’t have a theory,” she said, drinking more slowly now, “or at least not that he’s told me. He certainly doesn’t know why, that’s for sure.”

The man smiled knowingly and nodded. “Let me introduce myself. I am Cappuccino. I know that your friend was tailing my man at the laboratory before he found you. He told you this?” Amy’s face told Cappuccino he had. “Then I must ask you miss,” he said more slowly, “considering the fact that the reason why your pee was in fact discovered by the man he was tailing, and that it would be of interest to the government’s case, how it was that he did not discover it?” Amy paused. She trusted Lawrence, at least a little, and definitely more than this guy. But did she have a reason to trust him? Aha, Cappuccino himself just said that Lawrence was an agent of the law.

“Maybe it was in Otherlandian,” she said carelessly. Cappuccino laughed.

“He speaks six languages fluently,” he said, “He might speak more, but six is all I have encountered him with. He is an old acquaintance of mine.”

“So you have agencies in six corners of the globe, while he works for my homeland security, and I should trust you?”

“Simply because your government is just as interested in the usefulness of your pee as I am, but they have not been very trustworthy, and Lawrence is working for them. Look at your… Socialist Security I believe you call it. They told you when that first came out that it would never become your identity. And now, see where it stands.” He paused a moment. “Lawrence has sworn allegiance to them, has he not? Even if he wished not to, would he be able to refuse orders?” Amy took a long drink to avoid saying anything. What had happened with Social Security certainly wasn’t right, but how could she argue that Lawrence wasn’t like that?

 

She had to decide to trust Lawrence.

 

She did.

 

“…to uphold and defend The Constitution Of the United States…” That was the key. Lawrence hadn’t sworn allegiance to the government at all, but rather to the Principle of Truth that it had been founded on, and Cappuccino knew it. He was lying through his teeth.

 

Amy stubbornly folded her arms, and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Cappuccino but I’m not interested.” He burst out laughing.

“Well, miss, I cannot say I am not disappointed, but I will try to keep my offer open as long as I can. However,” he said more quietly, trying to make her afraid, “I will be less kindly disposed to your friend if you refuse. You have 24 hours.” Amy instead thought about a growing tink inside her bladder. My goodness, she had drunk the entire pitcher of water and could probably still drink more given time. Cappuccino motioned for Rodrigo to take her away. She wanted to play with the desperation, but decided she had better pay attention as she returned to the cell. As they left the room, she began looking around at their surroundings. Glancing out a window, she recognized a building from one of the postcards at the airport, but she didn’t remember what the postcard had said. Maybe Lawrence would know. The stairs up to the bunker were fairly narrow, built of concrete and stone, and had a guard posted every so often. Amy looked at each one, trying to get profiles, weapon count, or anything that Lawrence might find useful. Unfortunately, they were moving rather quickly.

Unexpectedly, Rodrigo said, “Do not worry, they will not hurt you unless you try to leave.” At first she wasn’t sure what he meant, but then she realized he thought she was afraid. Thankfully, she discovered that most of the guards were armed the same way, and she stopped looking. She did feel a bit sorry for Rodrigo, however. Whatever had happened to his head seemed to have handicapped him. He was not creepy like Cappuccino, and if he wasn’t working for the arms dealer, she might have actually liked him.

They arrived at the bunker door, and she stepped inside to discover Lawrence was now awake. She hurried to his side as the door closed behind her.

“It’s alright,” he mumbled, “I’m not gonna die or anything. I just hate tranquilizers.” Amy was flabbergasted. She wasn’t that easily frightened.

“No, not that. I think I know where we are.” He looked up, genuinely interested.

“Well, that would help a lot. All I can tell from the window is we’re on a coastline.” Amy proceeded to describe the building she had seen to Lawrence, and told him that Cappuccino was the man of the house. After a few more details, he knew that they were in his Marepolis residence. That meant heavy local guards, but a fairly easy escape by boat if they ever got out the front door.

“…Now, how to do that,” he said, the effects of the tranquilizer beginning to wear off. After a moment, he chuckled.

“What?”

“I was just thinking, if…” he began, then paused. He grew serious. “Do you have an urge to pee, by any chance?”

“Y-yeah, maybe. Why?”

Lawrence pointed to the exit. “That door was meant to be airtight, but it’s been banged up so badly that I think there may be a leak or two. If you could flood the jail cell faster than it can leak out, so that pee sprays through the cracks, I think the guards will come to investigate. Cappuccino doesn’t tell his men much from my experience.”

“…And the door opens from the outside,” Amy said, beginning to understand. But there was no way she needed to pee that Mitch from one pitcher of…

 

Eh, might as well give it a shot.

 

Amy rolled over onto her back, and bore down on the tickle of desperation that had started to form. It wasn’t long before she was very much ready for a piss. She was about to let loose when Lawrence yelled, “Stop!” He moved over, and began hammering the pantie’s lock point with a loose rock.

 

Phew, close call. That would’ve hurt quite a bit.

 

The cheap metal printing soon broke, and Lawrence stepped a pace away with his back turned. “Go for it!” he said. She removed the metal craft and found herself (Whoops). Then she let it rip!

 

A gushing shot flew across the room and hit the door a split second later, cleaning off the debris that had probably been on it since before it was installed. The floor of the jail cell was soon being covered by an enlarging puddle that was thankfully still warm when it reached Amy. This was far more liquid than had been in the pitcher already, and she hadn’t even metabolized all of it yet. But it didn’t matter how this was possible right now. She began to piss harder, and harder again, pushing to get the cell flooded as fast as she could. But even with her best efforts, it might be too dark to find their way out of the city by the time it was full. She needed to hurry! What could she do?

 

“Amy, you naughty girl, you…”

 

She turned sideways, and hit Lawrence on his back. He gave a stunned shout as it knocked him face forward into the rising flood of pee all around him. She changed her angle again, arching her body to make the spray hit the ceiling above him.

Emerging a second later, he exclaimed bewildered, “What did..?!” but Amy couldn’t wait for him to finish before thought of the pee showering on his confused head made her burst out laughing. It wasn’t long before she stopped though, gasping with wide eyes from the sensation of the sheer volume she was peeing! She was now completely opening her urethra, restricted by its physical limit, but she did continue to pee harder and harder. Just as she was feeling a lull, Lawrence stood up again, and made the mistake of habitually starting to turn around. She aimed, and hit him square in the face.

“Ah ah ahh, no peeking, remember?” she giggled before heaving erotically again. He got up and groaned, but from the tone of the groan he wasn’t annoyed, just playfully bewildered. Amy was having to sit up to keep from drowning now, and it was getting uncomfortable, so she carefully got to her feet. As she did so, however, she misestimated the force her own water rocket would have on her. “Whoa, whaa!” She staggered back and fell down with a huge splash. Lawrence turned to church if she was okay, carefully guiding his eyes. The foam around her urethra and the clingyness of her wet skirt made it almost impossible for her to be revealed now, so she didn’t much care. When he saw her condition, he laughed and said, “Eh, one point for me then, huh?” Amy narrowed her eyes, and as she got to her feet again, turned sideways and got a good shot at him by falling back down again. She caught herself, and arched upward to keep her head above water, continuing to aim at Lawrence. He moved, she moved. Since he was moving linearly and she pivotally, it was not so hard to keep up as to keep upright (for both parties, actually). Lawrence yelled, “Hey, cut it out! You got me.”

 

“You have to tag me!” She yelled back. Man, it was getting loud in here. Lawrence turned with a sly but determined look, and marched toward Amy, splashing about almost knee deep now. Within 15 feet, he was slowing down as she continued to target him dead on. 10 feet, it was reduced to a crawl. 6 feet, she revigorated her pissing efforts. 5 feet, 4 feet, three and a ha…

With a loud yell and flailing arms, Lawrence could no longer keep his balance while the beautiful girl continued to blast him with unthinkable amounts of pee. He fell backwards, making a satisfying splash in the surrounding flood. Amy burst into giggles, and tried to continue aiming for him, but soon found her arms and legs weakening. With some sort of break even point, the thought of knocking him over with her pee after already peeing so hard had made her piss hard enough that the feeling of relief was so strong it was making her piss harder by itself. After about three seconds she was already panting desperately, barely able to stay upright as her piss roared across the room! By six seconds, she couldn’t tell wether she was lowering into the warmth around her or it was coming up to meet her, but regardless, with what felt like all the relief of her life combined happening in her lowers, it was all she could do to take a desperate gasp of air and hold it in while her head went under. For about 4.5 seconds, she was underwater, jerking about as she tried to keep her breath in and piss at the same time. It was more adrenaline driving than one time when she had fallen off the edge of the pool backwards into the deep end, but mostly because it felt… so… amazing…

 

She quickly emerged with a much halted stream, though, as pee had gotten up her nose.

 

===END OF ORIGINAL DEVIANTART POST===

Edited by ashnacamon
Additional chapter titles and misc information (see edit history)
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I was going to write, "It isn't over yet!" or something, but with things that have happening...

 

(really hoping this part is NOT shown in your preview so you would get nervous X-))

 

Chapter 05: The escape

As expected, the guards soon came to examine the urine spraying out of the leaky door, and like true mercenaries, they readily opened it. Pee rushed down the stairs in a torrent, rapidly overwhelming guard after guard until they were all washed out the hall doorway along with the massive tsunami of pee. Lawrence barely managed not to get sucked down the hole with them, and additionally had the good sense to turn around and face the one guard who had been behind the door when it happened. After a few moments, it looked like Lawrence was going to lose, when Amy flung the door at the guard just as he was about to move out from behind it, hitting him squarely on the head. He fell down limp. Lawrence was a bit surprised.

“Oh… thanks!” he said before acquiring some weapons from the downed guard.

“Your welcome,” Amy panted, feeling again terribly thirsty as they went down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, Lawrence moved down the hallway, but Amy redirected into a side room: She had seen what looked like a water dispenser jug. Upon examination, she discovered it was a container of the same beverage she had drunk earlier. She grabbed the jug, and began drinking directly out of the spout as gunfire ensued outside.

Lawrence meanwhile was rather thankful that she had not followed him, but hoped that she was alright. He was scrounging for every bit of cover he could get, which meant that a two-person hiding spot requirement would’ve put him at a lethal disadvantage. As it was, the guards were a little more than nervous about shooting at Cappuccino’s $72M vase rather than the $4,000 mosaic on the wall Lawrence would’ve been hiding behind, which gave him an even greater advantage. After he had gotten out of the shooting survival holding-on-by-fingernails part, he began to worry about Amy. Just then, she ran up behind him, toting the 1/3 full jug as she continued to try and drink while she ran (not very successful, unfortunately).

“Sorry, I needed water,” she panted.

“It’s understandable,” he said, before firing another shot around the corner. Two return shots came, but from a distance. The room had been cleared. “Come on,” he said, and they made a dash for the stairs to the boat garage. Lawrence locked the door behind them, and used part of Amy’s now empty water jug to jam the bolt. “That’ll keep them awhile,” he said, and they headed down the stairs. Arriving, he found five speed boats, and one group cruiser. He climbed aboard one, and began to Hotwire it.

“Should we sink the other boats?” Amy asked.

“We don’t have time,” Lawrence replied, “I wish we could, though.” Banging on the door began to ensue from above. Amy looked at the boats.

“Capsize them,” she said to herself, and stepped into one.

“What are you doing?” Lawrence asked, before she spread out her legs, and peed into the hull (boy, whatever was in that water made her metabolize it FAST). The boat immediately began to lower. Lawrence clicked his tongue and said, “I like your style.”

“I like your eyes,” Amy replied, then turned bright red. “I- I mean…” they were interrupted by a much louder bang from above. The pursuers had found a battering ram. Within a few minutes, the door broke loose, and Cappuccino along with Rodrigo and some other mercs came charging down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, they found four capsized speedboats, each flooded to the brim with female pee. Lawrence and Amy were already a quarter of a mile away. Lawrence and the men got onto the remaining cruiser, and followed. By this time, Cappuccino was very angry.

Soon after, Amy was trying to use the breeze to dry her panties, and was having some success, when all of a sudden, their boat started to stall.

“What’s happening?” She asked over the still noisy motor.

“We’re running out of gas,” he yelled back, “Try and find some spare gas in the cabinet.” Amy immediately did so, but the tank she found was almost empty. She poured it in, and reported to Lawrence. “Let’s hope it lasts, then,” he said, but he knew it wouldn’t get them out of the city. They would have to find another boat, or… or something. The cruiser with the mercs rounded the bend just as the fresh fuel reached the engine.

“Here they come!” Amy said, before twanging metal reached her ears. Some small objects were flying at them from the other boat. One of them hit Lawrence’s seat. “Darts?” Amy yelled, “At this range?!”.

“He wants you alive!” Lawrence yelled as he swerved around a barge for cover. They were losing power again.

 

That statement, the need for fuel, and Amy’s rapidly filling consequences from the jug struck a chord in her memory.

“…All the oil wells in Otherland.” Oil wells? Why oil wells? Could it be…

“Lawrence, would Cappuccino be interested in an alternate source of fuel?”

“Yeah, he would,” Lawrence answered, not quite as confused-sounding as Amy had expected. “What’s your idea?”

“Just a thought…” she yelled, then re-unscrewed the gas tank lid as she straddled the opening. The enemy was quite close now, and Lawrence was pulling out his pistol. Amy pulled her panties to the side, and with a Joranimo-style gasp, pissed hard into the fuel tank. The engine almost died, coughed twice, and then with a roar it surged back to life, nearly knocking Amy off the boat. Falling on her face, she held on to the inner ledge with her feet as the boat accelerated, leaving a faint trail of yellow smoke behind them. Climbing back aboard, she said, “I guess that worked pretty well, huh?” Man, she was exhausted after all that.

“Yeah,” Lawrence answered, then added, “Amy, there’s something I have to tell you,”

“Uhh? I… ahh…” She was having a hard time focusing on his words. She had managed to stop peeing when she fell, but now, as she stood, she felt almost like a baby in terms of her bladder. All she wanted to do was wet herself like silly right where she was standing. Actually, she wasn’t even sure she could stand...

“Amy? AMY?!” Lawrence exclaimed as she collapsed into his arms. The cruiser had given up chase now, or they had lost them. Amy’s vision was going out of focus. What was happening? She lost control of her bladder. Her panties were immediately re-soaked with pee.

“Aww, I just got them dry,” she mumbled, feeling very drowsy and comfortable, then noticed a protrusion under her skirt. Wild thoughts went through her sleepy mind, until Lawrence lifted the fabric and exposed a tranquilizer dart.

So THATS’s what was happening. Not even her wonderwoman-grade urethra could withstand a direct hit from that drug.

Impressive to the last, however, the extremely dense muscle had greatly slowed the drug’s absorption into the rest of her body. Thankfully, her bladder had also been affected, and though she was peeing a lot, she was not peeing faster than the boat’s bilge pump could outrun. But as her eyes began to close, she knew she did have a lot more to pee.

“Okay, just relax Amy. You’re gonna be alright, okay? We’re gonna be alright…” Lawrence’s voice softened away as unconsciousness shrouded around her, and she gently went to sleep to the feeling of peeing helplessly in his arms…

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You'd think it'd be permitted if it was tagged "mature". And do they think a single person in the world hasn't seen pee before? Why is it so taboo even compared with actual sexual content? At least on derpibooru it's not only allowed there but under "questionable" tag rather than "explicit". (But you can only post stuff related to MLP or EqG there)

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  • 2 weeks later...

Things have been getting a little fuzzy in the next chapter, like wether or not theri is any prerequisite condition to Amy's pee being combustible. The original idea was that it had a very high flash point, like diesel. But, duh, diesel wouldn't work in a gasoline engine BECAUSE of that.

 

Anyway, I think I'm open to ideas, and am currently leaning towards the thought that Amy's pee is simply able to be combustible upon the consumption of something Cappuccino put in the beverage (trying to save himself time maybe? or was he smarter than Lawrence or Amy figured?).

 I have ideas for following storyline, but it's not as clear cut as the rest has been.

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Why not just let her pee have the properties of gasoline? The ignition temperature for it is 500F so it would be reasonable to believe that her pee has never been near something that hot before thus never ignited.

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Chapter 06: Sailing, Sleeping, Smelling

 

Amy’s senses went numb as the tranquilizer took effect on her body. Oddly enough, her urethra acted like a sponge, and kept the drug from releasing into her bloodstream all at once. The result of this was that she remained half-conscious for several hours, more aware at some times than others. Her memories were as follows.

 

There was a slight thud as the boat came up to a docking port. It was now quite cold as the sun had gone down, though mainly she noticed that she felt pretty warm on her back, then realized she was still peeing slowly. Lawrence must’ve moored the boat, and then said something reassuring to her as he covered her in a blanket before moving her out of the boat. She had a momentary loss of balance when he did this, and everything blurred…

 

She felt something on her lowers, and opened her eyes to see Lawrence looking her straight in the eye as he removed her panties, said “I’m sorry, I promise you I won’t look,” and installed an adult diaper. Amy couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth, and as he carried her gently into a car, things began to fuzz again…

 

She was still in the car, but they were jerking around quite a bit, and something was pushing on her from what would’ve been down had she been standing. Looking up with great effort, she found that she was now lying on the console with her head in the cockpit area, and her diaper had become a 10’ unruly mass of warmth that was squashing against Lawrence’s seat from behind. She must’ve been peeing harder than she was before, as the puckering diaper was quickly pushing around the seats, and lifting her higher up the dashboard.

“Sorry about the seating arrangements,” Lawrence said, somewhat exasperated “I just hadn’t expected your diaper to fill up… quite this quickly!” The diaper was now hindering his right elbow as he drove, making them swerve just a bit…

 

Lawrence pulled her out the driver door and out of the diaper. They were apparently in some sort of parking garage, and Amy could see the poor little sedan behind him, stuffed to the brim with pee.

“Alright,” he said, “We’re gonna change cars. We’re almost there. Just hang in there a little bit longer. Hang in there.” Amy couldn’t understand that: She was having a great journey aside from all the jolting. He seemed a little clumsy right now. Lifting her onto the passenger seat of a new car, Lawrence supported Amy with his leg momentarily whilst opening the door. This apparently squashed a large amount of the drug out of Amy’s urethra, and she really did lose consciousness till about noon the next day.

 

Amy finally awoke, slightly dizzy, and found herself lying in a bathtub, filled with her pee. Around her were the components of a luxury bathroom for a larger house. She was still peeing (though almost finished), quite thirsty, and quite hungry. She wondered for a moment why Lawrence would put her in a tub considering the last time she had slept in one, but then noticed an overflow limiting drain that the pee was level with. She was wearing the same dress she had worn for three days now, and she could feel it. Thankfully, just as she was feeling awake enough to get up, after 72 hours of off and on peeing, she finally finished.

 

She also noticed a fresh outfit of clothes sitting on top of the hamper.

 

As Amy got up and removed her pee-soaked clothes to take a shower, she counted the things she had filled with pee over the weekend. A taxicab, a hot tub, a beach head (man, if only she HAD flooded the whole entire ocean), a makeshift prison cell, three speedboats, a gas tank…

 

Hmm, what was she going to do about having combustible pee? I mean, it couldn’t be very combustible, since she had peed on a campfire once and put it out, or maybe there was some condition to be met…

 

Anyway, after the gas tank, there was the diaper in the car, then there was… she didn’t know what had happened in the second vehicle. Had Lawrence just let her pee fill it that time? Huh. She would have to go check that out. So, once she had washed her hair and so on, she drank some water from the tap, and then explored the house. It was a very nice house in the country, and thankfully the refrigerator was stocked with food. She made herself breakfast, and after she ate, she was confused to find that she did not need to pee yet. Then she realized that she had finally relaxed a bit, and the steady adrenaline boost was no longer accelerating her kidneys. But still, she would think that the difference wouldn’t be THAT exaggerated.

 

Oh, well.

 

Breakfast being done with, she noticed an additional plate already in the drying rack, with a note next to it.

“In the garage. All tips and tricks regarding removing gargantuan diaper from suburban will be heartily appreciated.

-Lawrence”

 

So that was what had happened.

 

Curious to know where they were and ask other questions, Amy went to find the garage. When she got there, she found Lawrence with his head stuck in a still mostly filled suburban, shoveling masses of golf ball-sized polymer gels into a filling garbage can.

“It’s going to take at least four more of those cans by the looks of things,” Amy commented.

“Oh, hi,” Lawrence panted. “I, uh, I’ll be glad to answer any questions you might have, but, uh, I’m not sure how well I can listen while doing this.”

“Okay…” Amy said, thinking. “Well first off, where are we?”

“Verdehill,” he replied, pausing from his shoveling, “and you can relax a little this time. The CIA finally decided to put more men in on this task, and Cappuccino kidnapping you was something they can arrest him for.” He turned to go back to work, but then stopped, and sighed. “But there’s… something else I’m concerned about,” he said quietly.

“The CIA’s interest in me,” Amy deduced.

“Heh, you’re a good guesser,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“Well,” she shrugged, “I had Cappuccino’s help.” Now Lawrence really did chuckle.

“Yeah, he would play that card.” Then he became serious again. “Problem is, it’s a good one. The government is interested in you, Amy. After you filling the boat, they figured it out, so now I…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. Amy, on the other hand, was figuring something out.

“You falsified your report on the laboratory to protect me from being used by the Cappuccinos in OUR government.”

“Well… yeah. I mean, they’re not all that way obviously, but there’s been enough of them so far that…” He trailed off again. Amy was still thinking about a plan. Then she remembered. The campfire.

“Hang on. Lawrence?”

“Yeah?” He had gone back to shoveling.

“Well, is it possible that my pee is flammable only under certain conditions? What did the laboratory report actually say?” Lawrence’s gears started whirring again.

“It said something about high concentrations of epsonite. I don’t actually know what that is, but the man I was tailing said something on the phone about it being a great fuel source, and that’s proved to be the case.” Epsonite… she’d read that somewhere before. What was it? She remembered a glossy page, and chlorophyll green, like a nature magazine. But it wasn’t nature. She didn’t remember. Giving up for the time being, Amy got up to leave, and saw an extra pool cleaning net in the corner of the garage. There were large flowering plants just outside on the same corner.

 

*click*

 

“Our waters are treated with epsonite to help make your skin soft and smooth, not itchy and wrinkled.” It all came back. She was looking at an issue of Traveler’s Illustrated at a neighbor’s house. The advertisement had been for a luxury hotel, and it’s spa.

“Skin care!” she said out loud.

“What?” Lawrence said after a significant pause. He had been deep in serious thought.

“Epsonite is a skin care product. They put it in the water at fancy spas to make your skin feel nice afterwards.” Lawrence blinked in surprise and confusion.

“Skin care product?” The idea sounded absurd, but it seemed right to him somehow… “I think I’m gonna do my own laboratory test,” he said, then started to put the tools away.

“What are you thinking?” Amy asked, getting up and looking for a way to help.

“There’s a beauty store near the lake, for tourists. I’m gonna go there and see if I can find our mystery substance.” Finishing with the tools, he lifted up a tarp in the garage to reveal a bright red motorcycle. He was in the process of wheeling it out, but then he stopped. “Do you wanna stay, or come?” Amy gave him a smirk.

“Do you really think I would stay?”

 

A moment later, the two of them were speeding along towards the lake. Half an hour later, they were just outside the beauty store, opening a bottle of Epsonite crystals. Without even trying to sniff, they knew beyond a doubt: It was the right substance.

“So, is it actually a fuel?” Amy asked. Lawrence was already reading the bottle.

“I don’t see anything here that says it would be flammable. But then how…” He stopped, re-opened the jar, took a light sniff (still quite powerful as the crystals had been subliming pretty much since the day they had been packaged), and then thought a minute.

“What?” Amy asked, confused.

“That doesn’t smell quite like the diaper, does it?” He handed her the bottle. She observed the scent.

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t quite. It does smell like the taxi and the hot tub, though. I thought the pee had just stagnated or something, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Lawrence was thinking hard.

“Amy? Did Cappuccino… The water. The water… You said it was clouded?” Amy nodded. Both of them looked at the bottle. “It’s a two-part puzzle,” he said with realization. Just then, their brainstorming session was interrupted.

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