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  • 2 weeks later...
On 5/6/2021 at 2:45 PM, ConfidentMento said:

As a trans guy who is saving up for this exact stp, this is an amazing story! Everything you said was accurate, though you'd have to be peeing pretty forcefully to overflow the reelmagik's cup lol. 

The euphoria of peeing standing up, it's like no other. 

Even as a girl it feels nice, for trans guys it must feel like getting free ice cream from God himself.

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  • 8 months later...

Okay, so I have a huge backlog of fiction updates to post to this site, but since I don't want to put up a ton all at once I'll just do a couple each day (Like, one chapter for each story.) You can view my AO3 account if you want to see more right away. (Link to that on my profile.)

***  

Avery thought that he actually had two bladders. First, he had his Normal Bladder, the one that was average sized and filled up at a consistent, steady rate. When this was the bladder his kidneys chose to pump urine into, he could easily gauge how long he had left to find a restroom before it became an emergency.

But, then there was his Movie Bladder. This was a much, much smaller bladder that his body only chose to fill when he went to a movie theater. It was about half the size of a small cup of soda. 

Avery hated having to get up in the middle of a movie, not just because he didn’t want to miss anything, but because he didn’t want to bother anyone else trying to climb out of the row. It didn’t matter if he used the restroom five minutes before the film was set to start. It didn’t matter if he took careful, small sips from his drink. It didn’t matter if he became absorbed in the movie and didn’t think about peeing. He always, always ended up needing to go. And he always ended up needing to go BAD. 

He didn’t understand it. He could make it through entire days at school sometimes, which were much longer than any movie he’d ever watched. He could sleep through the night without having to get up for a pee. And, when he watched movies at home, he didn’t end up needing to pause them for a toilet break. He had no idea why his bladder always acted up at movie theaters, but for whatever reason, it just did.

But, this was, by far, the worst it had ever misbehaved while at a theater. Avery continually gave furtive glances to the now-empty soda cup resting in the cupholder beside him. Why did he have to have drank the whole thing? He'd known he’d end up needing to pee, and he was right smack dab in the middle of a very crowded row with no way out. Each time his eyes darted towards the stupid cup, he fantasized more and more about one possible way he could refill it. He had to repeatedly scold himself for thinking about doing something so disgusting. 

And, logistically, it just wouldn’t work. He’d have to stand up from his seat so that the funnel of his prosthetic would work properly. That would attract attention. And, his pee would make a noise as it splashed into the cup. Everyone would turn and see him, and he’d be in a whole world of trouble. 

It was a disgusting, awful, revolting idea. 

But, his bladder spasmed and lurched every time he thought about carrying through with it. He crossed his legs back and forth underneath his seat as he tried to banish the idea from his brain. He couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. 

He looked up and down the row, wishing that at least one side wasn’t so densely packed. He didn’t want to bother anyone, but if he got up to pee, he’d have to bother at least six people. He hated feeling like he was in anybody’s way. That was how he’d felt his whole life, that he was an inconvenience to those around him. He didn’t act right, he didn’t dress right, he couldn’t figure out how to be the girl the world wanted him to be, and because of that he was at best a burden, and at worst a target. His best course of action was always to stay in the shadows and not let people notice that he existed. 

He didn’t even fully realize how totally ingrained this rule was in his mind. Head down, eyes down, don’t look at anyone, don’t bother anyone. Just stay out of people’s way. These behaviors had become fully automatic, he did them at all times without even thinking, because there had been far too many times where he’d broken one of those rules and paid dearly for it.

He didn’t think on a conscious level that if he stood up and walked through the row for a pee, that he’d be jumped and beaten up. He just knew on a subconscious level that, in the past, when he’d made the mistake of getting too close to someone, that was what happened. It was fear, and a fear which he wasn’t even totally aware of, that kept him stuck in his spot. 

Avery wondered how much longer the movie was going to be. He couldn’t concentrate on the story anymore at all. His legs continued to tangle around each other and he gripped onto both of the hand rests on his chair until his fingertips whitened. He managed to find a somewhat comfortable position for a few seconds, but then his bladder ramped up with its steady pulsing once more. He squeezed his thighs tight and tried to pay attention to the movie again. 

He managed to pull that off for about five minutes before his bladder sent him a sudden and even more urgent signal that it wanted to be emptied right that very second. He had to go so much that it was starting to hurt. An agonizing, pinching sensation flared through his lower abdomen. He crossed his legs tighter and begged for the movie to finish. His thighs trembled in time with the throbs from his midsection. 

He shook his legs anxiously, banging his knees against one another. That didn’t help, so instead he stretched his legs out in front of himself and leaned backwards, trying to give his poor bladder some more space to expand. Just like the day at the restaurant with Lydia, he found himself holding onto the tip of his prosthetic when particularly strong spasms threatened to send jets of urine into his pants. He was putting all of his energy into just controlling the massive tidal wave of liquid inside his body, but the sheer strain he was under was causing his muscles to lose resistance ever so slightly. 

Avery’s bladder felt like it was about to explode into tiny shards. He didn’t think he could make it anymore. Again, he looked at his empty cup, visions of jumping to his feet, yanking its top off, tugging down his zipper and releasing an ocean into it once more filling his mind’s eye. It would just feel so good to let it flow, to let his waters gush freely into the cup, spurting and spraying as the agony fled from his body to finally leave him be… 

‘No,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘Stop thinking about that. You’ll get freaking ARRESTED if you do that.’ He squeezed his thighs together even tighter, feeling the first dribbles escaping the confines of his overstretched bladder. A series of pangs rippled through its walls, shaking the bloated organ and tossing the gallons of pee around inside of it. He whimpered and crossed his legs desperately, doubling over. He managed to get the spasm back under control, but his bladder was still just so full, and his entire body was trembling with urgent need. 

He couldn’t wait much longer. He’d already waited too long. He had to get to a toilet or he’d pee his pants. Scissoring his legs anxiously, Avery tried to psyche himself up to stand and force his way down the row. His anxiety spiked, however. There were so many people, and they’d be looking at him, and thinking about him, and maybe even angry with him… He wriggled against his chair, against his own nerves. He bounced in place, the idea of enraging someone sending shivers down his spine… Or, maybe the shiver was just from the intense pressure in his bladder. 

A squirt of piss soaked into his boxers, and he stood up abruptly, pressing his heels against each other. He couldn’t wait. He had to just do it. “I—I’m really sorry,” he said softly to each person he passed. Every time he accidentally stepped on a toe, he grew more certain that someone was going to deck him, but no one did. Finally, he was out of the row and into the aisle. He just had to make it a little further now. Just had to get to a restroom… 

Since Avery’s bladder hated movies for whatever reason, he knew exactly where the restroom in the theater was. He limped his way towards it, his bladder loosening itself up in eager anticipation of the urinal he was, at long last, going to bring it to… 

Then his muscles tightened and cramped painfully when he saw the line. 

Apparently, one of the movies playing today had just ended, and everyone that had been watching it must have had a lot to drink during it. The line was huge. Avery now knew that men’s room lines tended to pass a lot faster than women’s room lines did, but still… He didn’t think he could make it through any sort of line. No matter how quickly it moved. Still, he got himself to the back of that line as fast as his bloated body could move. 

He also knew that it was hard to blend into his surroundings and not be noticed when he couldn’t stop doing a pee-dance. And, he definitely couldn’t stop doing a pee-dance right now. His legs were in endless, frantic, urgent motion. He jumped from foot to foot, shuffling in place, flexing his thighs. His hands balled themselves into fists, before he hunched over and scraped his nails against his knees, jiggling in place. 

He knew people were looking at him. And, the same thoughts that always assaulted him when people were staring soared through his mind. Could they tell? Could they tell he wasn’t a ‘normal’ guy? Had his hair gotten too long? Was his face too round? Was his binder not on right? Were his hips too wide? Could they tell? 

What if they could? What if someone came up to him and accused him of being in the wrong line, asked why he thought he belonged in a men’s restroom? What would he say to them? He didn’t think he’d be able to say anything… Panic swept through his body, settling painful and heavy on top of his bladder. As his fear built, so too did his desperation and he felt himself starting to leak once more. 

If they were doubting he was a man, they would surely stop questioning it once he got to the urinal, wouldn’t they? They’d see he was the same as any other guy, then. They’d see he was a normal guy that just really, really had to use the restroom. Yeah. That was all he needed. He just needed to pee, like everyone else here did. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. But, his anxiety was still flaring, and it was making him need to go even worse. 

He considered bolting from the line, rushing to the back of the building and releasing his bladder onto the wall instead. The wall didn’t have a line, and he didn’t have to worry that anyone would think he wasn’t the correct gender to use it. He’d peed against walls a few times since he’d gotten his prosthetic, but all those times had been late at night, when it had been dark and no one would have seen. Now, it was broad daylight. People would definitely see. And what if one of those people was a cop? He knew THAT was unlikely, but it was still too scary for him to consider going through with it. 

At least the line seemed to be moving. And, even though people were looking at him, no one had said anything. So, they were just watching his fidgeting, then? Was that all? He hoped so… Avery was probably the only person to ever feel relieved at the idea that people were staring at him because he was obviously on the verge of pissing his pants. 

The line moved at a decent pace, but nothing was fast enough for Avery at that point. He leaked several more times before he’d even gotten into the room, and once he was inside and could hear streams trickling and sinks running, he felt even more like he was about to explode. 

He could scarcely believe that his desperation could keep getting worse. He’d thought for sure that what he’d felt when he’d still been sitting in the theater was the worst anyone could possibly need to use the toilet, but his body was dead-set on proving him wrong today. He was jogging in place now, spurt after spurt soaking into his boxers. He gripped onto the tip of his prosthetic and felt some semblance of relief from the action, but whimpered in the back of his throat anyway. 

He was gonna pee. There was no way around it. He couldn’t make it any further. He was gonna have an accident right there in the restroom. He just couldn’t handle the line. He was too full, too bursting, he couldn’t take any more waiting. 

‘I could ask someone to let me cut…’ he thought. 

‘What? No I can’t!’ The idea of talking to someone made his heart pound so hard that his chest hurt… And another jet of piss sprayed from him. 

‘I have to… I’m gonna have an accident if I don’t…’ 

He tapped the person in front of him, and the man turned around and looked down at him. “I—I’m really sorry,” Avery said, his voice wavering as it always did when he talked to people. God, his voice… He hated it so much. It was too high, too airy. So many times, people would do double-takes when they heard him talk. He tried not to notice it, but he always did. “I’m… Can I go ahead of you?” 

The guy stared at Avery’s shuffling feet, and the position of his hand. Avery squirmed under his gaze from more than just desperation “…Yeah,” he said. 

Avery exhaled a little. Then, went to the next person and asked the same thing. The guy gave him the same nerve-wracking once-over, and let him skip ahead. Same for the third man. Avery weaved and bobbed. It was his turn next. Just a few more seconds, and he’d be peeing. He could do it. He HAD done it. He’d fought down his fear of people just enough to be able to make it to the toilet in time. He’d done it. 

He cringed and writhed as a urinal flushed, the sound sending shockwaves through his bladder. But, when the man stepped away from it, leaving it vacant, Avery could have cried with relief. He hurried to it, unzipping all the while, and aimed his prosthetic. 

Pee trickled down its shaft and sprinkled against the porcelain as he let out a relieved gust of air through his nose. His stream came out slowly and steadily. He’d been so desperate to go that his bladder couldn’t unclamp all the way just yet. It hadn’t gotten the memo that it was okay to release. After a handful of seconds, his muscles slackened a little further and he was going more forcefully. 

The relief then was magnificent enough that his eyes drooped halfway closed and his mouth hung open slightly. He’d made it! He’d made it! He’d finally made it! Now, he could finally just stand there and let it all drain away. All the tension, all the fear, all the horrible, agonizing desperation. All of it was leaving him now, replaced by nothing more than a light, floaty sensation that made him shiver. He felt so safe, so relaxed, so, so much better… 

His bladder kept gushing for a little more than a minute, and he leaned forward as he shook out the final drops before tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping up. As he walked to the sinks, his legs were a little wobbly. His whole body was a little wobbly, really. Tingly feelings were still traveling up and down his spine. He’d had no idea that simply not-needing-to-pee could be such an amazing feeling. 

He washed off his hands before returning to the theater. He’d need to go through the row to get back to his seat again, but he felt a little less scared the second time. He was okay.

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Avery was really looking forward to getting back to his apartment. He and Lydia had been paired up for a project at school, and he could barely wait to get to spend more time with her. More than that, however, Avery could barely wait to get to the toilet in the apartment. His bladder was practically on fire, and his desire to look comfortable and relaxed in front of Lydia was making it very difficult for him to do much of anything to help tamper down the need. 

He really should have gone before he’d left school for the day. He’d known he’d needed to go then, the school had plenty of men’s rooms he could have stopped off at before exiting through the doors. Only one of the ones he’d passed had any sort of line and it wasn’t even very long. He could have gone then. He should have gone then. 

But, after the day at the restaurant where Lydia had seen him get so utterly desperate, Avery now felt a little… Well, not ‘ashamed’ exactly, but certainly pretty shy about telling her he needed to visit the toilet. It was a silly thing to feel, Lydia hadn’t even brought up the earlier emergency she’d been witness too, and certainly didn’t seem to care, but as he and Lydia headed out of the school, the words “Wait here a second, gotta hit the restroom first,” refused to form on his tongue. 

It wouldn’t be far to his apartment, anyway. And he didn’t have to go that bad! 

But, then came the subway ride. Avery had lived in New York long enough to learn that the subway moved incredibly fast and would get him to his apartment and, more important, the toilet inside of it at lightning speed. But, Avery hadn’t lived in New York long enough to learn that sometimes the subway got delayed. And when that happened, it definitely didn’t move very fast.

The slightly uncomfortable pressure in his bladder poked at him a little more fiercely as he stood on the subway and waited for it to start moving. Avery wished he could sit down, that way if he crossed his legs it would at least look casual and not like he was holding in his pee. But, it was crowded, all the seats were already taken. And the idea of asking someone if they could trade places with him, of potentially annoying them or making them angry, was too frightening to Avery. He understood that people who were elderly, pregnant or had certain medical problems could be given priority for seats, but Avery didn’t think that ‘really needing a restroom’ was one of the medical problems that counted. 

So, he’d just stood there, trying not to sway too obviously with Lydia right beside him. She talked to him some, told him how irritating the delays could get, but it was obvious she had no idea of exactly HOW irritated Avery was by it. He wondered if subway stations had bathrooms. He’d never had to go this badly while in one before, so he’d never had any reason to check. He tried to remember if he’d ever seen a sign for one down here before, but he couldn’t recall anything. 

He considered asking Lydia if there was a toilet in the station he could go use really quick. But, once again, those words wouldn’t come. If Lydia found out he had to pee, she’d know how badly, she’d know how he’d been holding it, and she’d remember all of his humiliating squirming from the previous incident. He tried to ignore those worries; ‘What’s more embarrassing?’ he asked himself. ‘Asking Lydia about the restroom NOW when it’s not an emergency, or holding it until it IS one?’

Just as he’d gotten up the nerve to ask, the subway train finally began to move. His chance to pee was gone now. He just had to wait until he was home. He felt confident he could still manage that, even if it was uncomfortable. He tried to listen to what Lydia was saying, but she was talking about sport statistics, something which Avery could barely understand on the best of days. Today, while nursing an aching bladder, talk of ‘batting averages’ sounded like Lydia was speaking Italian. “What do you think?” Lydia asked suddenly. 

Avery balled his hands into fists and sucked in his breath around his teeth. He felt vulnerable now, Lydia’s eyes were on him and he was scared his need was apparent on his face. “Um… Yeah.” 

Lydia blinked at him.

Avery shuffled his feet together, trying not to raise either of them off the floor. He knew if he lifted one for a second, the other would follow, and he’d begin dancing from side to side, stepping in place in clear need of a toilet. Lydia wasn’t always the best at picking up on body language or facial cues, but he was pretty sure she’d be able to tell what his pee-dance meant if he allowed himself to perform it. 

“What do you mean, yeah?” 

Avery was sweating from the strain in his center and the knowledge that he was doubtlessly embarrassing himself again. “I’m… I’m sorry. I was thinking about… The project,” he decided. Lydia was still looking at him, and Avery couldn’t possibly allow himself to fidget his feet or cross his legs now. He had to act normal, but his bladder didn’t seem to care about what ‘normal’ was and was doing everything it could to force him to start performing an embarrassing little dance. 

“Oh,” Lydia said. “Yeah, I guess we should start talking about that, huh?” And, she did. Avery could follow that conversation a little better, but the mounting pressure agitating his sphincters wasn’t making it easy. He felt a sudden jolt in his middle, followed by a single, solitary little drop leaking from the confines of his bladder. It made him gasp with his teeth clenched down as he fought to regain control of himself. He managed to stop after that one drop, but all the others were violently knocking against his opening, demanding to join it and be set free. 

Finally, they arrived at the proper stop, and Avery once more considered asking Lydia if there was a toilet in the station he could use. He wasn’t looking forward to carting his bladder up the steps to leave the station. Nor was he very eager about dragging it the last couple blocks to his apartment. But, he WAS really close to being home, and if given the choice between peeing at home and peeing in a public restroom, he would always choose home. There was no need to worry about someone seeing him enter the restroom at home and deciding he’d gone into the wrong one. There was no need to worry that someone would think the position he stood in as he urinated looked strange. There was no need to worry that someone would accidentally glance down at him and notice his prosthetic wasn’t exactly the same color as the rest of his skin. 

He knew these things were silly to worry about to begin with. The first thing had only happened one time, before he’d moved to New York. And the other two things had never happened at all. He knew no one cared enough about him to scrutinize what kind of stance he took at the urinal, and that if anyone looked at his dick long enough to notice the color was off, then they were the one doing something wrong and not him. But, no matter how many times he reassured himself, no matter how many times he said ‘I look like a regular guy, and I pee standing up, so why would anyone question a thing when I’m in the restroom?’ it never quite sunk in or felt real. 

Being able to go standing up had significantly boosted his confidence in public toilets, but everything around that and leading up to that still made him nervous. Yes, once he unzipped at a urinal and let it flow, anyone who could have been thinking about being an ass to him would probably leave him be. But, first he had to get TO the urinal, and if someone stopped him BEFORE that, he’d come apart. He’d be terrified and shaking, and he’d just confirm whatever awful things they’d been thinking about him. 

He felt confident and sure of himself when he actually PEED in a public restroom, he just needed to find a solution that would allow him to feel that way as he ENTERED one as well. And, for now, he didn’t have the answer to that. So, for now, since he was so close to home, that would have to be where he relieved his overburdened bladder this time. 

Avery followed Lydia out of the station, more than ready to make a long awaited trip to the restroom. He was grateful that he was finally so close, surely only minutes away from relief, until he felt his bladder spasm painfully as he climbed the stairs to leave. Nearly doubling over on himself, he let out a mix of a pained groan and strained yelp as he felt like those minutes suddenly multiplied. Now that he was walking, now that he was moving around instead of standing in one place, his bladder was being jostled and knocked around inside of his body, every impact making its threats to spray its contents down Avery’s legs louder and louder. 

Avery had fallen completely silent even while Lydia continued talking to him. It was impossible to reply while fighting against a bladder that constantly demanded for release. When they stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change, Avery crossed his legs involuntarily and squeezed them together along with his thighs. “Mnnn…” he mumbled, trying not to begin jiggling up and down and making his condition even more obvious. 

Lydia turned and looked at him. “Did you say something?” 

Avery shook his head and forced himself to straighten out. ‘You’re almost there,’ he promised his bladder. ‘So close. Just a little bit longer.’ 

The light changed and they walked across the street. Avery started panicking internally as he felt his liquid sloshing and a few more eager drops spurting out, threatening to burst into a real stream at any moment. ‘Whyyyy didn’t I just go at school?!’ Avery screamed at himself in his mind. How could he have been so dumb? Surely telling Lydia to hang on a minute while he hosed down a urinal would have been less humiliating than pissing his pants in front of her! And that second thing was starting to look like a distinct possibility! 

In an effort to prevent himself from any further involuntary releases, Avery kept his thighs clenched and walked without letting his knees bend very much. He knew he probably looked very strange, like he was doing some sort of bizarre march a villain’s henchmen would do in a movie, but it took some of the edge off his need so he did it anyway. 

Lydia noticed his weird walk and laughed; “What are you doing?!” 

Avery immediately forced himself to stop. “N—Nothing,” he stammered, realizing they were finally at his building. The small apartment he shared with his uncle was several floors up. Sometimes he took the stairs to reach it, but today that was an impossibility. 

Lydia liked to run up stairs though, as a form of exercise. “I—I know you like to work out on stairs and stuff, but let’s take the elevator today,” Avery whispered frantically. His feet started stepping in place despite his best efforts. 

“Um, alright,” Lydia said. “Oh, if I run up the stairs as fast as I can, I bet I could beat the elevator to your floor!” she said excitedly. 

“Y—You won’t be able to get in without a key,” Avery reminded, his voice clearly straining.

“Oh, right,” Lydia said. 

As soon as she’d said that, Avery had taken her by the wrist and escorted her quickly through the building’s lobby and to the elevator. ‘There need to be restrooms in the lobby!’ Avery thought. ‘Why aren’t there any!?’ Didn’t the people who designed the building understand that sometimes a resident would just need to go SO badly that making it up to their apartment was too big of a challenge!? 

Once inside the elevator, Avery frantically jabbed at the button for his floor. ‘Hurry,’ he begged the elevator. ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry! I’m gonna burst!’ Almost on cue upon having that thought, two things happened; First, the elevator jolted to a stop, and the buttons went dim as their lights went out. Two, the pressure against Avery’s opening grew even more and made a slow trickle seep into his clothing. 

“Ohhhh,” Avery moaned weakly. ‘No, no, no, no, no… Please, no. Not now. Please! Lydia’s right here!’ While he spent several seconds fighting to regain control of his poor, tired muscles, Lydia began to speak again. 

“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “I’ve been stuck in elevators before, and it usually gets fixed really fast!” 

Avery didn’t think ANYTHING could possibly be fast enough for him at this point. Unless it resulted in getting him to a toilet thirty minutes ago, it wasn’t quick enough! Still, he tried to smile and pretend like he wasn’t on the edge of spilling his bladder all over the floor. “That’s good!” he said, clenching his muscles as hard as he could. 

Just like at the crosswalk, his legs tied themselves into a knot. But, this time around, he wasn’t able to stop himself from jiggling. And, when a whimper fell from his lips, it was implausibly loud in the tiny room. 

“You are… claustrophobic?” Lydia guessed as she studied him. It was obvious he was really freaked out, and he certainly didn’t look comfortable. 

“Yesss… No…. I don’t know…” Avery managed. He doubled over then, using his hands to help press his straining thighs even tighter together. He continued to bob up and down, sweat pouring down his face. This was bad. This was so, so bad… He was gonna pee his pants, and he was gonna do it in front of Lydia. She may not have teased him for getting desperate at the pizza restaurant, but he didn’t think ANYONE could resist teasing someone his age after they’d flooded their clothes in an elevator… 

“Avery?” Lydia said. “Are you sick?” 

Avery had to pee so badly he actually felt like he was going to throw up… “N— I don’t think so!” he managed. ‘Toilet, please…’ 

“… Do you have to pee?” Lydia tried again. 

“YES!” Avery cried out. “I really, really have to go! So bad!” Now that he’d admitted his need, he couldn’t stop his desperate, needy babbling. Even as the words being ejected from his mouth made him blush and flush hot with embarrassment, he kept on talking. “I’ve been holding it for so long, I can’t wait anymore!” It was as if since he was using every ounce of strength to keep his bladder from releasing an uncontrollable stream, his mouth had decided to take its place and unleash an uncontrollable stream of words instead. “I’m gonna wet myself! I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t pee!” 

“…Um, okay,” Lydia interjected through Avery’s urgent rambling. “Wow… I… I’ve never seen anybody our age have an accident before…” 

Lydia had a terrible habit of speaking without thinking about it, and being incredibly blunt. Often, she would think she was saying something perfectly nice and normal, only to find out later that she’d upset someone else or made them uncomfortable. She never, ever meant to do it, just… Words were confusing for her sometimes. 

‘I’ve never seen anybody our age have an accident before’ had definitely NOT been something Avery needed to hear in that moment. As soon as the words left her lips, Lydia knew they’d been the wrong ones by the way he immediately turned away from her and crouched down in a corner, rocking back and forth, obviously painful with need. “I can’t hold it…” he continued to whimper. “I can’t… I have to go… I can’t wait…” 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Lydia quickly amended, but she knew it was too late. She’d hurt Avery’s feelings without meaning to at all… She frantically tried to think of how to make it better. “And, it’s okay! I won’t laugh at you when you pee yourself!” 

Avery scrunched up further. 

That hadn’t worked… Lydia felt awful. Why did she say such stupid stuff all the time? Why couldn’t she figure out how to talk to people normally? It was like everyone else on Earth had been given a ‘How To Communicate With Humans’ handbook when they were born and Lydia had been skipped over for some reason. 

She wanted Avery to feel better, and she had a feeling the only thing that COULD make him feel better would be having an empty bladder that HADN’T been drained out into his pants. The elevator still wasn’t moving, though… Lydia took off her bag and dug around in it until she found what she’d been looking for; A large water bottle that she’d drained earlier in the day. As Lydia participated in a lot of athletic activities, the bottle was very big; Certainly large enough to hold poor Avery’s bladder. 

Could Avery pee in a bottle though? The opening was kinda tiny, and Lydia wasn’t really sure how his stand-to-pee thingy worked and if he could hit smaller targets without making a mess. It couldn’t hurt to make the offer, she supposed. “Avery, can you pee in bottles?” 

Avery jumped a little, a small amount of urine snaking past his defenses once more. “What?” 

“I have an empty bottle,” Lydia said. “But, the opening on it is small, and I didn’t know if—“ 

“Give it, give it!” Avery begged, suddenly wanting that bottle more than he wanted a winning lottery ticket. He hadn’t ever peed into a bottle before, but he was already thinking about how it would work. If he stood up, unzipped, cupped his prosthetic underneath himself and pressed it nice and tight against his body like he was supposed to, then he could hold the bottle in his other hand and just place its opening right below the opening of his prosthetic. Then, he could pee! He could finally pee! He could pee and pee and— 

In front of Lydia… 

He could whip out his dick and loudly piss into a bottle with Lydia standing right there. 

When Lydia handed Avery the bottle, she’d expected to hear his zipper coming down right afterward, but it didn’t. 

‘Come on!’ Avery tried to psyche himself up. He cringed as he stood back upright. His bladder lurched at the movement, threads and dribbles of urine cascading down his legs. He stomped his feet, trying to get them to stop. ‘What’s more embarrassing? Going in the bottle, or going in your pants? ‘Cause ONE of those is gonna happen in the next five minutes!’ 

Lydia was confused, worried that Avery had decided the opening was too little for him after all and that the bottle wouldn’t work. Or, worse, maybe he’d already wet himself? But, the elevator didn’t smell funny, and Lydia hadn’t heard any splashing coming from his direction. “Avery?” 

“Can you… Stand as far away from me as possible?” Avery pleaded. He knew that wouldn’t be very far at all with how small the elevator was, but he just… He just couldn’t have her RIGHT there… “And, just look at the wall, okay? And try not to listen?” 

Oh… So, he was just shy. Lydia certainly hadn’t been planning to watch him go, but if he needed her further away, that was fine. She did as he’d asked. “Okay!” she said. “Let’er rip!” 

Avery wasn’t sure if it was possible for his face to feel any warmer. “Ack! Don’t say that!” he managed to choke out. To give himself a little more privacy, he unzipped his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. The leaking was constant now, and he knew his jeans were likely visibly damp. 

“S—Sorry!” Lydia said. She’d only been trying to lighten the mood. This whole thing had felt weirdly tense. 

Avery unscrewed the cap on the bottle then reached underneath his jacket for the zip on his pants, giving it an urgent tug. Finally, he pulled himself free, and after a few very quick adjustments, he knew his prosthetic and the bottle were both right where he needed them. It was over. He could go. He was safe. 

He finally allowed himself to relax. His wavering, shuddering leaks instantly transformed into a cascading waterfall of relief. Pee loudly tinkled agains the material of the bottle and Avery sighed contentedly, his body at long last able to do what it had needed to do for so long. “Haaaahhhh…Yeah, that’s the stuff…” 

Lydia had to try very hard not to laugh at that noise, and it was even more difficult not to crack up at the remark that followed it. And he’d scolded her for saying ‘let’er rip?’ She was trying to do as Avery asked and not listen, but it was a little hard not to listen to the only sound in the room. Especially when it was so loud. The only noises present in the elevator were that of Avery’s heavy breaths and his pee spraying forcefully against itself in the bottle. 

‘Holy crap,’ Lydia thought after enough time had passed and Avery was still gushing like a busted fire hydrant. ‘He REALLY had to go…’ She started to feel a little worried about him, she knew it wasn’t healthy to hold in urine for very long, and from the way Avery’s release sounded, Lydia wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first pee he’d had in a week! 

Avery shut his eyes, trying to forget about where he was and who he was with so he could just concentrate on the way the tension slowly flowed out of his bloated body. He could actually feel his bladder shrinking inside of him, deflating itself back to its proper size. It felt so wonderful. His mouth hung open as he continued to pour out his burden. “Ohhh….” he sighed again breathily as a shiver worked its way up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. After a final few pulses, Avery finally felt the glorious emptiness of a freshly drained bladder. He gave his STP a good shake before tucking it back into his boxers. 

He pulled the bottle back out from underneath the concealment of his jacket. Since it had been hidden away the whole time he’d been peeing, he’d only been able to judge how full he was making it by how heavy and warm it had gotten in his hand. He’d assumed he must have only filled it up half way or so, but when he saw how much fluid he’d actually pumped into it, he was very grateful he’d finished up when he had. He’d very nearly overflowed it! He screwed the cap back into place, and zipped up. He decided to leave his jacket where it was, positive he must have had a visible wet spot on his jeans somewhere. He exhaled heavily and set the bottle down on the ground before slumping against the wall. 

“… All done?” Lydia asked after a moment. 

“Y…Yeah,” Avery said, certain he was still bright red. He’d… Peed in front of Lydia. He’d peed into Lydia’s water bottle in front of her! Sure, she’d said he could, but still! That bottle was probably ruined now that it had been used as a urinal… “I’m really sorry. I just… Couldn’t—“ 

“I know, you couldn’t hold it,” Lydia said. “You said that about five hundred times.” 

Avery blushed more, “Sorry…” he repeated. 

“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You needed that, it’s alright. Don’t feel bad.” 

Even with as embarrassed as Avery was, he didn’t have it in him to feel bad. His body felt so light and floaty that he couldn’t help but feel good. “Your… Bottle,” he said. “It—“ 

“Can be washed,” Lydia interrupted. “And, if not, I can just get another one. It’s just a bottle. If your bladder ended up exploding you wouldn’t be able to replace it.” 

“I don’t think it could have actually exploded,” Avery said, starting to laugh. “I mean, it definitely FELT like it was gonna, but I don’t think it’s possible for that to really happen.” 

“Still, you could have hurt yourself,” Lydia said. “Try to go more often, okay? I know you get scared in public, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I’ll beat them over the head with a hockey stick.” 

Avery felt better. Even after all that, Lydia hadn’t teased him. She’d expressed nothing but concern. Maybe he could trust Lydia better than he could most people.

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Avery felt like his bladder was twisting up on itself like a cheap balloon animal. He felt like an over-inflated beach ball was pushing against the interior of his skin. He felt like there was so much excess liquid in his body that even his bones were beginning to fill up with it. 

Avery needed a urinal in the worst way. 

The reason for his predicament was rather simple; He’d failed to have his morning piss. It wasn’t for lack of trying, however. Avery always drank a glass of water before bed because it helped him sleep, but it also meant he’d be bursting by the time he woke up. Just as he did every morning, he scurried from his bedroom and down the hall to the toilet, dying to flood it. But, this morning something was different; There was a note on the door to the restroom from Avery’s uncle. It explained that there was an issue with the plumbing in Avery’s apartment building, and until someone came and fixed it, Avery was not supposed to use the toilet. 

Avery whimpered as he read the note, shifting from foot to foot. His Uncle Brad came down the hall then, and Avery noticed he was a little squirmy himself. “Can’t I go if I just don’t flush?” were the first words out of Avery’s mouth. 

Uncle Brad watched his pee-dancing nephew for a moment, obviously wanting to tell him ‘yes’. “They said not to,” he said. “The people who own the building, I mean…” 

Avery cringed, stomping his feet hard into the floor. His bladder was very used to being drained within minutes of him being awake, this prolonged period of holding seemed to have confused it. It felt like his bladder was being held beneath a running faucet, it was expanding and growing heavier and heavier with fluid by the second. He didn’t want to get his uncle into trouble, however. His uncle had done so much for him since he’d taken him in. The last thing Avery would ever want to do is cause him problems. Still… “I really, really have to go,” Avery said, though that was rather obvious from the way he was twisting at the hips and shuffling in place. 

“I know,” Uncle Brad replied. “I do too, believe me, this was not what I wanted to wake up to today. I’ll go when I get to work, you can go when you get to school.” 

Avery grimaced at that. The ride to school was going to feel very, very long with such a full bladder. He was trying to think of somewhere he could stop off at between the apartment building and the subway that would be open and have a toilet he could use without buying anything. Frustratingly, he couldn’t think of anything, the closest McDonald’s or Starbucks from here were both in the opposite direction the subway station. He’d risk being late to school trying to get to one of them. Still, he nodded at his uncle, not thinking he had any other choice. 

The walk down to the subway was awfully painful, and as he took the stairs down into it, each step made his bladder pinch. Every time his heels hit the ground, he would feel his sphincters flex and flutter, trying their hardest to keep the flood where it belonged. He glanced at his immediate surroundings for a bit, hoping the station would have a restroom he could use, but he didn’t see a sign for one anywhere and when the train arrived he knew he didn’t have the time to keep looking. 

He boarded the train and took a seat, one hand digging its nails into the top of his knee when his waistband compressed his bladder. When the train became to move quickly and bumpily down the track, he ground his teeth together and tried to remind himself that, even if the jostling beneath his feet was making it harder for him to hold on, the train was at least speedily taking him in the direction of much needed relief. 

The ride to school felt about two hours longer than usual. Avery’s legs kept crossing beneath him as he hoped that everyone else onboard was too tired in the early morning hours to notice his needy fidgeting and figure out what it meant. When the doors slid open at his stop, Avery stood up much too quickly and felt a spurt of urine glide smoothly into his boxers. He pressed his thighs together tight as he hurried off the train, his dribbly leak continuing down his legs with each step. ‘Almost there,’ Avery thought. ‘Almost there…’ He’d absolutely NEVER been this eager to get to school before in his life. Just the thought of bursting through the door of one of the men’s rooms, planting himself in front of the nearest urinal and letting it all go made him— 

Lose yet another jet of pee into his clothes. He doubled over slightly, hands kneading themselves between his legs as he tried to cut off his flow. ‘Hold it…’ he begged his body as he took slow, hunched over steps towards the staircase. 

The staircase. 

That thing was sure to be the death of him. 

The instant he raised one of his feet to put it on the first step, he was leaking up a storm. His legs snapped back together and he jiggled on the spot trying once more to clamp himself back shut. He managed it after a moment, but when he tried the stairs again, the same thing happened once more. If he parted his legs too far, he peed. 

He took a deep breath and made himself run up the stairs, trying to minimize the damage to his jeans. He felt himself going more and more the higher up the staircase he got and by the time he was finally outside, he could barely get himself to stop. His legs squeezed firmly against one another, then began to coil together. He was nearly folded in half on top of himself as he forced himself to walk the final block to school. Along the way, quite a few alleyways looked amazingly tempting. They looked like Heaven. He practically salivated as he passed each one, his bladder slamming around inside his middle, throwing a tantrum and begging him to take it THERE and let it empty out! 

But, he couldn’t. Not when it was so bright outside. He could be seen. He was to the point that he honestly didn’t care if someone watched him pee; If it meant his bladder could be empty, he’d give a free show to whoever wanted one. But, he did care if a COP watched him pee. He did care if he got into trouble, if he had to call his uncle and tell him he’d been picked up for public urination and needed help with the fine. 

Avery had to hold it. He just had to. He trudged on. Luckily, he hadn’t lost any more spurts since he’d left the subway station, the majority of his urine was still where it belonged. When he passed through the gates of the school, his bladder began to loosen itself. There was a men’s room right after the entrance hall, right there on the left, less than a minute away now. Less than a minute, and he’d be peeing. Less than a minute, and he’d have relief. 

He entered the school at last and hobbled through the entrance hall, he was about to push open the door to the hallway that contained the restroom, that contained freedom, when he felt his arm being grabbed. He jumped, startled at the sudden contact, and allowed a squirt of pee to leak past his defenses. He turned to see one of his teachers, Ms. Johnson. “Avery,” she said. “Could I talk to you for a moment.” 

‘No,’ Avery thought. ‘You can’t talk to me for a moment. I don’t HAVE a moment. In a moment, this whole building’s gonna be flooded after I’ve exploded unless you let me use a toilet right freaking now!’ He thought all of that, but that wasn’t what he said. Instead, what Avery said was “Okay.” Even though he was the absolute furthest thing from ‘okay’ that could possibly exist. Even though he felt like his body was a ticking time bomb that would burst at any second. Even though he had to pee so badly and had already started having an accident. 

Because, when a teacher asked to talk for a moment, that usually meant something was wrong, that usually meant Avery was in trouble for something. And, even if he wasn’t in trouble, his teacher may need something, and letting people down, causing them the slightest hint of inconvenience, made Avery’s stomach flip and do cartwheels through his body. 

So, even if it felt like Avery’s very life depended upon getting himself in front of a urinal within the next fifteen seconds, he still said “Okay.” 

Ms. Johnson led him from the entrance hall and into one of the other hallways; One that didn’t contain a restroom. Avery wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for that or not. If there had been a restroom, maybe he could have worked up the nerve to tell her that he really, REALLY had to use it before he did anything else… But, he doubted it. In all likelihood, if there were a restroom in this hallway he would have just stared at it longingly, his mouth welded shut as he fought to remember how to talk, and if his luck was really bad he’d hear a toilet flush from inside of it and that would all be too much and he’d pee all down his legs in an instant. 

Ms. Johnson took Avery into her classroom. She sat behind her desk and pulled out the last thing Avery had written for an assignment. Avery squirmed his hips and bent double at the waist as he stood halfway between the doorway and the desk, his legs not wanting to try to carry his bloated body any further. He was trying not to contort himself too ridiculously, but that was a lost cause. His legs were trying to twist themselves into new shapes that were so complex they didn’t even have names. The word ‘pretzel’ could not have even done justice to the current agonized tangle Avery had managed to turn himself into. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Ms. Johnson said as she looked at him. 

Avery couldn’t not be nervous. His teacher wanted to talk with him, and he had about five seconds before he peed all over everything in a twenty mile radius. At least she didn’t seem to think his squirming and bouncing were because he was trying not to wet his pants, it was a little less embarrassing that way. 

“You’re not in any trouble,” Ms. Johnson said. “I just wanted to let you know, the personal essay you turned in last week brought me to tears.” 

Avery was shaking from more than just an absolutely frantic need to void his poor, over-taxed bladder. He’d thought the essay he wrote was garbage, but he didn’t think it was THAT bad. “S—Sorry,” he squeaked out, struggling to form words past the insurmountable weight of his shyness and the ridiculously heavy boulder that was his bladder. 

“Don’t be,” Ms. Johnson said. “The emotion you conveyed here was… stunning,” she said. “You really made me feel everything that you felt.” 

“W—Wait, you mean it was good?” Avery asked. Avery had rarely been told anything about him was good, his uncle and Lydia were the only two people who seemed to place Avery above ‘Blood Sucking Tics’ in their lists ranking things that existed. He wished that he didn’t have to pee so badly now, he would have enjoyed the opportunity to have an actual discussion with Ms. Johnson about his essay. 

She did try to talk to him about it, but Avery just needed a urinal so much that it was hard to respond. The emotions the discussion brought up for Avery were also making it a lot harder for him to hold it. The essay was basically his life story, about how his parents had sent him to conversion therapy and then disowned him when he failed to change afterwards. How he’d lost everything, his parents, his home, his pet dog, all at once. How he’d left the only place he ever knew when he was taken in by his uncle, coming to a brand new city that was completely different in every way from anything about the place he grew up. 

When Ms. Johnson asked him about his parents, he started to leak. But, he was leaking from his eyes this time, and when he hitched out a sob, the walls of his poor bladder compressed inwards and he was leaking from there again, too. His legs tightened and he doubled over even further, pleading with his body to stop. 

“It’s alright, Avery,” Ms. Johnson said. “If you have to cry, you can cry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Avery looked up at her, teary-eyed. He wasn’t okay. His parents were monsters, they didn’t deserve his love if they were going to withhold theirs from him for no good reason, but knowing that didn’t make him stop loving them. Knowing that didn’t make him stop WANTING their love. He wished he just didn’t have to want it. He wished he could just be okay without his parents caring about him. How could he want affection from people that were so terrible? How could he lose hours of sleep over people that weren’t worth even a second of his time? 

He wanted to say all that to Ms. Johnson, but when he opened his mouth, he felt an awful spasm rock through his bladder, making it squeeze and convulse with the most urgent, vicious pangs he’d ever felt in his life. Sheer need ricocheted through his entire body. His bladder was full of pee. His stomach was full of pee. His bones were full of pee. His brain was full of pee. He was nothing but pee, and if he didn’t go let it out his body was sure to collapse in on itself and turn into a huge puddle. “Nnnh—!” 

“It’s alright,” Ms. Johnson said. She stood from her desk and came around to hug Avery. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. You’re a very sweet, compassionate young man and if someone can’t see that, then it’s their loss…” 

This was exactly what Avery needed to hear, but he was struggling to process it because he needed to hear the words “Would you like to use the restroom?” even more. 

The bell began to ring as Ms. Johnson spoke soothingly to him. Avery was going to have to get to first period now. There was no time to pee beforehand. First period was over an hour long. Avery couldn’t wait that long. He’d have an accident. He was practically already having one now. He’d totally have one in first period. He’d absolutely soak himself. He’d soak himself right there in the classroom, in front of everyone. 

“Class is starting,” Ms. Johnson said. “I wish we had more time.” 

Avery wished he had more time too… 

“If you ever need anything, I’m here for y—“ 

“A—A late pass,” Avery blurted out. “F—For first period. Please.” His voice was cracking and squeaking, it sounded higher than ever to his ears and that made him want to tear out his own vocal cords. 

“You need a minute t—“ 

“I want to use the restroom,” Avery said. God. That was an understatement. He didn’t just want the restroom, he was starting to think he’d cut off an arm for it! “The plumbing’s out at my apartment, I haven’t gone since last night.” 

Ms. Johnson looked at him for a moment, then hurried to her desk and scribbled down a note as fast as she could. “Please, say something sooner next time,” she said as she handed him the note. 

Avery could tell she felt bad for unwittingly keeping him from a badly needed toilet break, but he didn’t have time to apologize now. He just took the note in one trembling hand and moved from the room as fast as he could manage to. His brain was turning to static now, alarm bells ringing through it, red flashing sirens erupting all over his mind. ‘GOTTA PEE! GOTTA PEE! NOW! NOW!’ 

He didn’t try to get to the closest restrooms, now that other students were headed to class in order to get to those he’d have to try and fight through the crowds in the opposite direction. The easiest restroom to get to was a slightly longer walk, but he hoped he could hold on long enough. He limped to the end of the hallway and turned left. He felt tears bubbling up in the corners of his eyes again and he didn’t know if they were from remembering his parents or from the pain of still having to hold an entire night’s worth of urine after all this time. Halfway down this hallway, he was already unbuttoning his pants. He turned right, and scrambled at his zipper, noisily tugging it down as he made one final turn and was finally, finally in the restroom. 

He could barely believe for a second that he was here at last. The room was totally quiet, he was the only person in it. His hand dove down into his opened jeans while he hurried to a urinal. He freed his prosthetic and aimed it. He’d been restraining himself for so long that it took several seconds for his body to recognize that it could actually unclench. Those last few seconds were the most painful for Avery. He was there! He was a urinal, his zip was down, his prosthetic was cupped beneath him and aimed, he was finally allowed to pee! He was almost salivating with the anticipation of the relief, but his bladder remained stubborn for ten more long, painful seconds. 

Then, droplets started to fall against porcelain. One, two, three… Then, a nice steady flow. A wonderful, intense trickle of long-held urine finally splashing away, finally hissing and gushing and spraying… Avery felt air gurgle through his bladder like a water cooler, and he sighed and panted, eyes blurring and becoming unfocused as his jaw went slack. This feeling almost made all the strain leading up to it worth it. Pee just kept pouring out of him, he felt a chill run up his spine and he shivered. Curiously, as his body shook, the relief inside of him seemed to intensify. 

He began to grow shocked at the quantity of liquid he was letting out. He hadn’t even known he could hold this much. He certainly couldn’t remember ever peeing out THIS much all at once before, and it just kept coming, and it kept feeling better. The feeling of his bladder shrinking and crumpling back into its proper size was almost making him delirious. How could something so agonizing turn into something so amazing in just a matter of seconds? 

Twice, he’d thought he was finally finished, only for his bladder to convulse yet again and shoot out another long spurt of urine. Once he was certain he was finally finished, he leaned forward to shake out the last drops and zipped himself back up again. “Phew…” he groaned. He stood there in a daze for a moment, then dizzily stumbled for the sinks to wash his hands. He felt genuinely lightheaded after all that. 

After his hands were clean, he checked his pants. There wasn’t too much damage, thankfully. Still he grabbed a paper towel and tried to dab away the wet spot that had formed on the inside of one of his thighs. 

Avery’s bladder acted up a little throughout the day, he supposed after being brought to the absolute limit like that, it was in no mood to hold it for very long. He found himself needing to go between every single class, which didn’t normally happen. Some days, he didn’t have to go at school at all, and most days he could get away with only going at lunch. Today, though, he was eagerly heading for the closest restroom every time a class let out. 

He had one last pee before leaving school for the day, worried that the issue at his apartment building still wouldn’t be fixed by the time he got home. It was though, thank goodness. Avery sure hoped that never happened again. When his uncle got home from work a couple hours later, Avery was asked if he’d made it to school alright. Avery blushed and admitted how close he’d come to an accident, and Uncle Brad agreed that he’d only barely made it as well. “You know, the floor my office is on doesn’t have a restroom?” he asked. “I had to get in the elevator, make it to my floor, clock in, tell my boss where I was headed, go back to the elevator, and wait for it to bring me to another floor.” 

Avery laughed, “That sounds awful!” 

“It was,” Uncle Brad chuckled. “Everything’s fixed up here now, right?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. 

“So sorry about that,” Uncle Brad said. “I know you were miserable.”

Avery shrugged, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” He felt a little warmer now. His parents had never apologized to him, not even for things that were obviously their fault. Uncle Brad said he was sorry when Avery was upset, even if he’d done nothing to cause it. 

“I think we’ve earned a pizza after today,” Uncle Brad said. “You want one?” 

Avery nodded. He felt even warmer. Uncle Brad tried to make Avery feel better when he had a bad day. His parents had never done that, either. “Thanks.” 

“And, you’re feeling okay?” Uncle Brad asked. “After… Uh…” 

“I’m kinda sore,” Avery said. “But, I think it will go away.” Uncle Brad checked if Avery was hurt or feeling sick after something unpleasant happened to him. His parents had never once asked such a question. 

Avery’s family may have been smaller now, but the people who mattered were still a part of it.

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This one is potentially pretty upsetting. Warning for transphobia, abuse, trauma and conversion therapy. I try to balance the darker tone of this chapter with a little bit of humor, but be aware it does contain some heavier topics.

*** 

Avery wet the bed sometimes. But, he didn’t want to call himself a bedwetter. Well. Duh. No one would want to call themselves that. But, in Avery’s case he didn’t think he DID it often enough to be considered a bedwetter, anyway. Just, once every couple months. Very, very rarely. His ‘problem’, if one could even call it that, was not severe enough for him to need to put special covers on his bed, or use an alarm, or— God forbid— WEAR… ‘protection’ while he slept. Just, every so often, he would wake up and feel that clammy, gross, sticky feeling between his legs, and he’d know he’d have to get his sheets washed. 

And, it wasn’t that he had any sort of issue with his bladder. Most of the time, if he filled up in the night, it would nudge him awake and he could sleepily stumble down the hall to take care of it. No worries. He did drink water before bed since it helped him get to sleep, but that didn’t make him any more or less likely to have an accident at night. Because, it wasn’t a matter of not being able to hold it, not realizing he was dreaming before unzipping at a urinal, or any of the usual reasons someone might wet the bed. 

In fact, when he peed himself in his sleep, he was usually fully aware that he was dreaming. The problem was he’d be trapped in that dream, unable to wake himself from it. And, he really, really wanted to wake himself from it. Not just to save his sheets from getting damp, either. 

When Avery wet the bed, it was always because of the same dream. Well, memory, really. His brain would force him to live through a replay of one of the worst things that had ever happened to him in his life, and try as he might, he could not will himself awake until after the scene had finally concluded. The thing was, he always KNEW he was asleep. He knew the event was over. He knew that he was stuck in a dream. But, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate and let him escape it. And then he’d wake up drenched. 

There was something to be said about going to therapy and leaving it feeling worse than you ever had before. But, where Avery went wasn’t really ‘therapy’. It was just ‘therapy’ in name only. The place he was sent to by his parents after he’d come out was not therapy. It was torture. He’d had to live there, with no idea how much time was passing and no clue what part of the globe he was even on until his uncle got him out. He’d been in there for six months, and he’d been in an entirely different country which had entirely different laws. 

That was why no one at that place could be punished for what they’d done to Avery. Because, where they’d done it, it was perfectly legal to try and ‘cure’ a person like Avery using those methods. Avery hadn’t been ‘fixed’ of course, he hadn’t been broken before he’d gone there. He was broken now though, just not in the way they said he was. 

He had nightmares about it often, the sparking pain and convulsions would feel so real even in his imagination. The nightmares were play-by-plays of what he’d been through, he’d smell all the same smells, see all the same sights, feel all the same feelings, but all with the awareness that it wasn’t REAL anymore. Sometimes, and this was very strange, but sometimes the nightmares would come even when he wasn’t asleep. They weren’t the same as the ones he had while asleep, only lasting a few split seconds, during which his mind’s eye would be filled with a scene from his past and his heart would pound out of control. He didn’t know why that happened. He’d had nightmares while sleeping before he went to that place, but he’d never had one while awake before. 

Multiple times, when those people had done those things to him, the pain Avery felt would be so extreme and all-consuming, that he’d lose control of his bodily functions. He’d foam at the mouth with drool, his eyes would bulge-out of his head, he’d scream and bite into his own lips, and he’d pee all over himself. 

When he dreamed of this, when he dreamed of peeing himself, he’d go for real. 

That was the only reason Avery wet the bed. 

He’d wake up, his breath hitching and his heart thrumming, realize he was soaked, and begin to cry. Uncle Brad always heard him crying. Uncle Brad didn’t care that it had woken him up. Uncle Brad would just hold Avery and tell him it was okay, he wasn’t mad that he’d had an accident, he wasn’t mad that he’d cried in the night, he understood. It would take Avery so long to settle himself back down again. Sometimes Uncle Brad would have him skip school the next day following one of these episodes. Which was good, because Avery was never in any shape to attend class after such an awful night. 

Lydia had invited Avery to spend the night with her while her parents and younger sister were out, and Avery had enthusiastically agreed. It had been a long time since he’d had a bad dream, and he’d started to think maybe they were over now. The past was in the past, and it was going to stay put now like it was supposed to. 

Lydia’s apartment was really big and fancy. Avery had never been anywhere so upscale before. Lydia’s father was a famous talkshow host, so he guessed it made sense they’d live somewhere super ritzy, but Avery felt a little out of place. The floors were a gleaming white and even with his shoes off, he was scared he’d scuff them up. He was too nervous to lean against anything, thinking he’d somehow knock something over and find out he owed Lydia’s family millions of dollars to have it replaced, or something. 

When he needed to pee later on, he felt awkward asking where the bathroom was. This was the kind of place he didn’t think he should ever mention urination in. Lydia noticed when he started getting fidgety though and showed him the restroom right away. He’d half-expected the toilet to be made of solid gold, but it wasn’t. It WAS weird though. It had a bunch of buttons on the side and he had no idea what any of them did. He thought it best not to press on them, thinking that he could cause it to self-destruct if he made a mistake. 

But, when he tried to lift the lid so he could actually use it for its intended purpose, it wouldn’t come up. Piecing together that fancy, rich people toilets apparently locked when not in use and that one of the buttons must be to raise the lid up, he examined them more closely trying to figure out which one he needed to press. None of the symbols made sense to him though, and he was starting to get a little too desperate to concentrate. 

The shower was right there though, and easy to get into… 

No. That was a bad idea. Fancy, rich people showers could probably detect urine or something. Peeing there would be very, very rude. Not when he could just ASK Lydia which button he had to push… Yeah. He could do that. 

Except, when he came back out and Lydia asked if he felt better now, he just couldn’t manage to admit to her that he hadn’t been able to figure out how to use the toilet. So, instead of saying “I couldn’t get the lid up. Please show me how?” he said “Yeah, I feel much better!” 

But, he didn’t feel better at all. His bladder was throbbing urgently and angry at him for leading Lydia to believe it was freshly emptied. His bladder didn’t understand that asking a cute girl for help pissing in her fancy, rich people home was even less appealing to Avery than eating his own toe-nails. His bladder just understood that it was getting very full and needed to be drained out. 

So, Avery just continued holding it. When Lydia put on a movie and they settled in to watch it together, Avery’s toes began to tap against the cold, polished flooring. He could barely concentrate on the plot at all— something about some underdog hockey player bringing his team to the Stanley Cup Finals, or… something. Hockey was the Stanley Cup, right? Or was that baseball? He couldn’t remember. He had to pee too badly to remember. 

When the movie showed a shot of Madison Square Garden, he did remember something though. Namely, he remembered going there to see a game with Lydia once. He remembered downing a big, huge soda right at the start and needing to pee like crazy through the entire first period. He remembered wanting to leave his seat and go find a restroom, but not wanting to make Lydia think he wasn’t having a good time. He remembered getting so desperate to go that he finally told Lydia that he’d be right back, only to feel so intimidated by having to force his way past all the people next to him in their row that he just gave up and resigned himself to holding it. He remembered springing up as soon as there was a break, rushing to the closest bathroom as fast as he could, and finding himself dancing madly at the end of a very long line. He remembered how sweet it was to finally find himself standing in front of a toilet, letting it all flow out… 

His bladder convulsed, and he wished he hadn’t just remembered all of that… ‘Tell Lydia you need help,’ a little voice whispered in his head. He knew he was going to have to do that eventually. No way could he hold this in all night. He’d burst. And unless he wanted to wet his pants in front of Lydia, or risk having her catch him watering the Hell out of a potted plant, he really should just ask her what the deal was with that weird toilet. 

After the movie, he decided. It couldn’t be that much longer, could it? 

There was only about half an hour left, but it felt more like half a year to Avery’s ailing bladder. It was thrashing all over the place in his center, squeezing and pressing forcefully into his sphincters, incredibly angry with him for ignoring it for so long. His legs were twisting together of their own volition, and he was bouncing rapidly in his seat. 

When the end credits finally rolled, Lydia turned to him and noticed right away that he wasn’t doing well. “Avery? What’s the matter? Are you feeling okay?” 

“I need to take a leak,” Avery said. 

Lydia looked down at his knotted up legs. “I would have paused it for you, you kno—“ 

“How do you get the lid open on that toilet?” Avery interrupted, fingers curling into his jiggling knees. 

Lydia’s eyes were still transfixed on Avery’s squirming, writhing legs, his pink lip caught between his teeth. There was something altogether fascinating about how he was moving. Kind of like watching an oncoming train-wreck… Once she’d processed his question, she realized that it meant he HADN’T gone earlier like she’d thought. He’d been holding it all this time? “Why didn’t you ask me earli—“ 

Avery stood, “It’s embarrassing,” he said. But, now that he was doubling over, doing a very elaborate and obvious pee-dance, he realized that there were definitely some things more embarrassing than asking someone for toilet operating instructions. 

Lydia led him to the restroom once more. She pointed to one of the buttons on the toilet, “It’s this one,” she said, pressing it. 

There was a soft, clicking noise and the lid raised itself. He stared at the now open bowl. So close. He almost lost it right then. 

“Yeah, I don’t get the point either,” Lydia said. “It’s called a ‘smart toilet’ apparently, but I don’t get what’s so smart about a toilet that’s gonna be locked if the power ever goes out. You know if you sit on it it measures your body temperature? How creepy is tha—“ 

“Lydia! Lydia!” Avery interrupted, ordinarily he’d be all for hearing about the weird products Lydia’s mother chose to waste money on, but if he didn’t make use of that specific weird product within the next thirty seconds, they were going to need a mop. “A little privacy please?” 

Lydia remembered what they’d come in here for and sheepishly left the room. “Sorry…” she said. 

Avery quickly shut the door and yanked down his zipper, getting into position as fast as he could. A clear stream of liquid jetted from the tip of his STP and trickled loudly into the toilet. Avery gasped and tried to catch his breath. Before he could really take in the sensations of relief firing through his nerves, there was a strange noise, like the sound his phone made when he got a notification. And then; “Hydration level is high.” 

The toilet spoke. 

It fucking spoke. 

It fucking spoke and informed Avery that he was well hydrated— A fact of which Avery had been VERY much aware for the past couple hours. 

He definitely hadn’t been expecting that and it made him jump a little, messing up his aim for a second. Avery didn’t usually get pee-shy, especially around something that wasn’t even alive, but having that weird computerized voice comment on his stream like that did make him feel a little uncomfortable and he had to squeeze down on his muscles to keep himself pissing at a steady rate. 

After several seconds of silence, Avery finally gave an overdue sigh of relief. “Ahhhh…” He did feel a lot better, even if the toilet was seriously creeping him out. He finally finished up a few seconds later, his stream dwindling away. As he shook out his STP he noticed his midsection still felt a little sore and that he had pushed himself a little too far tonight just to avoid a little embarrassment… 

The toilet made that weird chiming noise again and then the voice returned; “115 seconds.” 

Avery had no idea what that meant at first, then felt himself turning crimson when he realized that must have been the amount of time he’d just spent urinating… Wow. Almost two minutes. He HAD needed that… 

When he returned to Lydia, before she had a chance to ask him if he felt better now, he stated “It talks.” 

“…Yeah,” Lydia said. “Maybe I should have warned you… I think the sensors in it are supposed to, like, check if you’ve got bladder infections and stuff. The noises it makes will really startle you awake if it’s the middle of the night.” 

They watched another movie, one which Avery was able to pay much more attention to now that he wasn’t waging a war with his bladder. Then, it was time for bed. Avery entered the restroom again to change his clothes and have one last pee before sleeping. This one was nowhere near as dire as the one from earlier, and the freaky toilet informed him he’d only gone for “29 seconds”. 

Avery reached for his bag and took out his pajamas. He looked at them for a second, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. He had to take his shirt off. He flicked off the light in the room, which helped a little. But the silly ‘smart’ toilet had those glowing lights stuck to it so it wasn’t dark enough. Avery squeezed his eyes shut too, then quickly tugged his shirt off and over his head. 

He spread his arms out and away from his torso, not wanting to feel his binder or anything beneath it. Blindly, he groped for his pajama top and pulled it on. Only then did he open his eyes back up. He smiled when he realized he hadn’t accidentally put the shirt on backwards this time. No need to go through that again. 

It was easier to change his pants. Ever since he’d gotten his prosthetic, pulling his pants down and seeing what he looked like in just his boxers hadn’t bothered him so much. There was something there, right where it was supposed to be. 

He left the restroom and headed for Lydia’s bedroom where he spread out his sleeping bag. Lydia looked down at him and frowned. “Um… Do you usually wear that chest thingy to bed? Isn’t it uncomfortable?” 

Avery felt his ears heating up. He was certainly not supposed to wear his binder to sleep. Uncle Brad would be upset if he found out. It was unhealthy to wear it for too long, and if Avery turned around wrong in his sleep he could end up hurting himself. “Well… I… It’s…” 

“I mean, you can wear it if you want to, I just thought it was, like, bad to sleep in it.” 

“I just… I guess I wouldn’t usually wear it to sleep, but I don’t want you to see me as anything other than a guy.” 

“But, I DON’T see you as anything other than a guy,” Lydia said. “Here, I’ll even take my contacts out. You’ll be so blurry I won’t even be able to see you anyways. Would that help?” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“Not like I’m going to need them when I’m asleep” Lydia said, removing them. “So, it’s okay. You’re just a big, blurry blob now, but you’re definitely a manly blob!” 

“Heh,” Avery smiled, then gently reached a hand underneath his shirt to tug down the zipper at the front of his binder. He hated the feeling that followed then. The… Awareness of what was there… He quickly laid himself down flat on his stomach. 

He was really supposed to take the STP off before sleeping too. Just to give his skin some time to breathe. But, with the binder he just needed to get the zipper apart. He could still leave it under his shirt without Lydia seeing it. Taking off the prosthetic was different. At home he kept it in a drawer in his nightstand while he slept, he didn’t know where he’d leave it here. If asking Lydia how to work the toilet was embarrassing, asking her where he could store his dick for the night was just… Not happening. 

One night wouldn’t hurt, he decided. He’d forgotten to take it off before bed a few times already. It felt so much like a part of his body that removing it just didn’t enter his mind some nights. The worst thing that ever happened was he’d be a little itchy the next day. He could live with that. 

“Goodnight, Avery,” Lydia said. 

“Goodnight, Lydia.” 

Avery had been worried he’d have a hard time sleeping here. He’d never been close enough to anybody to spend the night at their home before. He’d been worried the floor would be uncomfortable, but his sleeping bag was thick enough that it was okay and before long he’d drifted off. 

When Avery next opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because he was back in that place again, and he knew he’d left it a long time ago. ‘No,’ he thought. ‘Wake up!’ He tried to pinch himself to jolt his body back awake, but just like all the times before, it didn’t work. 

The fake ‘doctors’ took Avery to the dungeon. It wasn’t actually a dungeon of course, it was just a room in the ‘treatment center’, but it was dark and musty and everything that took place within it was painful. So, ‘dungeon’ was the only word to describe it. 

The events played out exactly as they had all those times he’d really lived them. Avery kept thinking ‘Wake up, this isn’t real!’ but, it still FELT real and he COULDN’T wake up. Just like when he’d been here in real life, he was trapped. Only now his jailers weren’t the sick ‘doctors’, he was imprisoned by his own cruel brain. 

As the pain erupted, as clear and visceral as it had been in the waking world, Avery felt a trickle between his legs. 

Then, his eyes opened for real. He was awake, finally. He was safe and sound in his sleeping bag in Lydia’s room. 

And he was peeing. 

He was peeing a violent, noisy, hissing gush into his sleeping bag. “N—No!” he whispered sharply, squeezing his thighs together and clenching his muscles with all his strength. “Please, no. Please, not here. Please!” His heart, which had been beating out of control from the second he’d woken up, started to pound even louder in his ears. It was no use, he couldn’t cut off his flow. His bladder was bound and determined to finish emptying itself right into his clothes. 

Then, the worst thing happened. Lydia sat up in bed. “Avery?” she asked. “Are you oka—“ 

Avery couldn’t speak, all he could do was choke out a sob. 

“Avery?” Lydia said, climbing out of bed and crouching beside him. “What’s the— What’s that noise?” 

Avery still hadn’t finished peeing. The noise was his urine still spraying out into the material of his sleeping bag. He sobbed again miserably, causing his bladder to void itself even more strongly. This was officially the worst night of his entire existence. 

Lydia then noticed the acrid smell in the air. “You… You’re a bedwetter?” she asked bluntly, realizing a second too late that that was entirely the wrong thing to say. 

Avery gasped out one more sob, “N—No,” he said through his tears. “Not— This— Doesn’t—“ 

“Avery, it’s okay if you wet the bed,” Lydia said. “You should have said—“ 

“I don’t!” Avery snapped. 

Lydia jumped, “I’m sor—“ 

“I never did this before!” Avery said. “Not even when I was a toddler! I never had this happen!” 

Lydia was a little confused. She assumed this must have been the first time Avery had ever done this. She felt awful then, to suddenly pee in his sleep for the first time in his life when spending the night away from home… How awful! 

“And then, they sent me to that stupid thing,” Avery said. “And the dreams keep coming, and then I—“ 

“You were having a nightmare?” Lydia asked. “Is that why this happened?” 

Avery nodded miserably. “When I was at that conversion thing my parents sent me to,” he explained. “They did all these nonsensical procedures that were basically just torture. And, sometimes when they did those things to me, I would… You know, I’d… Have an accident. Because it hurt so much, I just couldn’t control anything. And, now I have these dreams where it happens again, and when I dream about… losing it, I… go. I never had this problem before then. Never. It’s so unfair.” 

“That’s… Really awful, Avery,” Lydia said. “I don’t know what to say… I wish that hadn’t happened to you, and I hope you stop having dreams like that someday.” 

Avery shifted uncomfortably, he’d finally stopped peeing but now he was so wet and clammy… 

“My Dad’s pajamas might be kinda big on you,” Lydia said. “But you can wear them for the rest of the night. “And I’ll get you a new blanket to sleep on. Just wait here.” She stood, reasoning that Avery would probably prefer to stay in his sleeping bag until he could get out of his wet clothes, he wouldn’t want her to see the dampness around his crotch. 

After Avery was changed, he felt a little better, but he was still shaking like he always did after a nightmare. He needed to forget about it. “L—Lydia, I know it’s really late and I woke you up and stuff, but can we watch another movie? I’m not ready to go back to sleep again…” 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Lydia said. “I’ll find something nice to help you feel better.”

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Lydia furiously tugged the door handle one final time, hoping that perhaps she could force the door to open itself back up again if she made use of her full strength. But, alas, even the legendary arm of her school’s top athlete was not enough to get that door to budge. 

Unfortunate that neither of her parents were home and her sister Pauline was asleep. 

She turned around to face her best friend; “Sorry, Avery,” she said. “Pauline will wake up from her nap soon, and she can let us out.” 

Avery nodded to Lydia, trying not to fidget his legs too obviously. They’d come in here, the huge room in Lydia’s massive apartment that was used for storage, to search for an old recording of Lydia’s Father’s TV show. But, Lydia had neglected to mention that the knob for this room was on backwards and could be locked from the outside. Something had managed to trigger the lock, and here they were. Stuck for the foreseeable future. 

Worse still, Avery had been needing the restroom since before they’d come in here, and the knowledge that he was now stuck with nowhere to relieve his bladder was making his urge worsen. He paced back and forth across the room several times, like a caged tiger. A caged tiger with unusually shaky legs, anyway. At one point, he paused and stared out the huge, floor-to-ceiling window at one side of the room, looking for something that could distract him from his Godawful need. He could see a portion of the park that was across from Lydia’s building, and tons of skyscrapers. Many times, he’d been stunned by the height and size of the skyscrapers, he’d never seen anything like them where he’d grown up, but now all he could think about was how many urinals and toilets must be inside of buildings that large. 

He also couldn’t stop thinking about the alleyways between those buildings. That would be a fine place to have a piss, too. Or, somewhere in the park, even. There were restrooms in that park, and if he couldn’t find one, there were huge trees and tons of bushes everywhere. So many places to get relief in an emergency. 

He needed to stop looking out the window. It wasn’t distracting him at all. It was only making it worse. His bladder kept lurching every time his mind supplied it with another place it could potentially empty if he weren’t trapped in here. He leaned against the wall, crossed one leg over the other, and started to shimmy his hips as he tried to think of something that didn’t involve peeing. 

He thought about the fish he liked to study, but that only led into how lucky fish were to be able to just pee wherever they wanted. And how, if Avery were in the ocean right now, he wouldn’t have to hold it even one second more. He thought about pizza, but then he couldn’t stop thinking about how pizza restaurants had toilets. He thought about the last test he’d taken at school, but then he remembered that he’d been a tad desperate then as well, and he especially remembered how good it felt to finally get in front of a toilet afterwards. 

“Is it an emergency?” Lydia asked suddenly. 

Avery blushed, apparently his ‘subtle’ knee bouncing hadn’t been that subtle after all. “Kind of…” Avery admitted. “I’ve been holding it a while.” 

“You should have gone before we came in here.” 

“Well, I didn’t know I was gonna get trapped now, did I?” 

Lydia flinched. “Sorry…” 

“Can’t we try yelling for Pauline to wake her up?” 

“We could, but she’s a real heavy sleeper. And she always has a white noise machine on during her naps,” Lydia said. 

Avery decided to try it anyway. He pounded on the door as he shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Pauline!?” he yelled. “Pauline! Come on! Wake up! Your sister and her friend need your help! Like, really, really bad!” He listened for a second, but didn’t hear any doors opening, nor the sound of feet. 

He groaned, squeezed his thighs together, and went back to sit beside Lydia on the floor. For a while, Lydia tried to distract him from his urgency, but Avery had drank about five cans of soda that morning and hadn’t had a single pee since. Distraction just wasn’t happening anymore. “Lydia,” he raised a hand, interrupting one of her stories. “I’m sorry, but I kind of just have to focus on… On holding this right now. Okay?” 

Lydia frowned. It was that bad? She started to look around the room. Perhaps, there was something in here he could use to alleviate his problem. She wondered if he was wearing that stand-to-pee thingy he had now. If he was wearing it, that certainly gave him a few more options as to where he could empty out. She just didn’t quite know how to ask him.

Avery was wearing his prosthetic, of course. He always did now, and was continually amazed by how much better it made him feel in his every day life. It wasn’t even just that he could use it to pee standing up, but also the fact that he could feel it there between his legs. The empty, vacant feeling that something was missing no longer bothered him. Whenever he took it off to wash it, or to give his skin time to air out at night, he felt incomplete. 

He’d peed with it tons and tons of times by now, and every time had felt so incredible; the relief would fade quickly, but the euphoria of aiming his dick and peeing would always remain. He’d been able to use urinals finally, he no longer had to worry if the toilet seat was dirty, or if someone noticed that he was sitting down and tried to start something with him. He was amazed that piece of silicone could improve his life as much as it had. 

It helped him out when he got caught short, too. He could go behind a bush, or down an alleyway, or into a bottle if the need arose. He’d done all those things now, and as ridiculous as it was, each new location he’d peed in had made him feel implausibly good. Validated, even. 

He should maybe stop thinking about that right now, though. Using his prosthetic to pee was something he’d probably give his right arm to do right now. An odd habit he’d developed was that, if he found himself desperate to pee, he would actually start to hold himself. He’d grip the opening of the prosthetic and, even though he knew that doing so shouldn’t actually have any effect, some of his urgency would actually fade. Obviously, it was purely psychological, but it worked. 

He did that now, he grasped his dick in one hand and some of the thrashing, pulsing misery in his bladder ebbed away. He just had to be careful not to hold himself too tight, he was scared to warp the material in some way. As he clutched, he sat with his legs crossed and fanned his knees up and down. He cursed himself for drinking so many sodas. They were all demanding release with an ever increasing urgency that he could not answer. 

“Hey, um… Avery?” Lydia asked. “If there’s something here you can… ‘use’, would you—“ 

Avery’s eyes lit up. “Is there!?” he asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice. It barely registered to him that, if there was something here, he would have to relieve himself in front of Lydia. He’d just heard the words ‘something here you can use’ and his bladder had readily loosened itself in anticipation. He needed to go. He needed to go so bad. He needed to go so bad he’d be willing to do it anywhere. He needed a toilet, a urinal, a bowl, a cup, a vase, a whole bunch of ladles… ANYTHING. He didn’t care what it was, just so long as he could pee into it. Hell, he’d even pee on a Broadway stage if it meant his bladder would finally be empty! 

Lydia looked away awkwardly, “So… You’d be comfortable with that, I guess?” 

Avery nodded, he would be so comfortable with it. Anything that resulted in an empty bladder would make him more comfortable than Lydia could possibly imagine. 

“Okay,” Lydia said. “I’ll try to find something for you, then. But, um…” she struggled. “Er… Just to make sure I find something that works; That… thing you wear so that you can—“ 

“I have it,” Avery interrupted, sitting up a little further and pressing a heel against himself. 

“Alright,” Lydia said. That was good. That meant Avery had as many options in this situation as any other guy would. Lydia looked through the boxes stacked around the room. She found old stuffed animals, old photo albums, her Father’s stamp collections… None of which made good emergency toilets. She stumbled upon her old baby blanket, and then Pauline’s in one box, and knew she’d found the items from when she and her sister had been very little. Some of the items actually brought back memories from when she’d been a toddler, and tons of them reminded her of little Pauline. Like, the binky she used to suck on, the sippy cups she’d once used, and… 

A small, plastic potty chair. 

Well. That would do it. 

Lydia picked up the item and brought it back towards Avery. “Found something!” she said. 

Avery started to exhale, he was gonna be peeing in just a few seconds, thank God! 

She set the chair down, “And, it’s been peed in lots of times already, so you don’t have to—“ 

“What is that?” Avery asked. He was beginning to second-guess his earlier decision of “I WILL PEE LITERALLY ANYWHERE SO LONG AS I CAN ACTUALLY PEE!” He could not pee in a plastic toddler’s potty in front of Lydia. He just couldn’t. It would be too embarrassing! 

“It’s Pauline’s old toilet,” Lydia said, deliberately trying to avoid saying the word ‘potty’. 

If Avery’s face turned any redder, he could have passed for a tomato. No. He would not do this. He couldn’t do this. It was too much. He was not so desperate that he would use a potty chair like a toddler. He was not so desperate that he would— 

A long, long burst of liquid sprayed out of him, and his resolve broke. “Lydia…” he said hoarsely. “Please, stand at the other end of the room and just look out the window. Do not turn around until I say.” 

“Of course,” Lydia said. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna watch you.” She rushed to the window, certain that Avery wanted to get started as fast as possible. 

Avery hesitated one second more. He couldn’t believe he was gonna do this… But, when another spurt dampened his pants, he knew there was no other choice unless he fancied wetting himself in front of Lydia instead. ‘At least… At least I have my prosthetic,’ he told himself. ‘I don’t have to try to sit down on the thing.’

He got onto his knees and unzipped, aiming his prosthetic into the small opening. He thought that perhaps it was because he’d spent his whole life wishing he could pee standing up and then overthinking every last detail pertaining to it, but he definitely knew he had better aim than most cis guys did. He honestly didn’t understand how so many of them apparently ‘missed’ and spattered the rim of the toilet after doing it that way since elementary school, when he’d been able to work out the perfect place to aim that minimized splashback after only a month or so of being able to do it at all. 

So, he was confident that his pee would go where he wanted it to. He spread his legs apart a little further so he wouldn’t accidentally squish the cup of the prosthetic and cause it to spill, then finally relaxed his bladder. 

“Ahhhhhh… That’s beautiful…” Avery exhaled a sigh of extreme relief as pee trickled out to spatter against the plastic receptacle. He’d been concerned that liquid striking that material would be embarrassingly loud, but it wasn’t too big a problem after all. That was nice. He didn’t have to worry about Lydia listening to his release, he could just enjoy it. He could just go and go and— 

What— 

What was that sound? 

As Avery’s stream continued to gush out, he started to hear music playing from somewhere. A weird, upbeat little jingle, like something from a radio advertisement. Where was it coming fro— 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!” 

Oh, dear God… Why? Avery’s body shuddered and he suddenly felt like his face was on fire. He tried to clench himself shut, to stop peeing and just hold the rest until later, but no matter how tightly he bore down on his pelvic muscles, his stream just kept coming. 

“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!” 

Who thought this was a good idea!? Avery wondered. Surely, even to a three year old, this would be humiliating! And, why did this little ‘feature’ even still work after all this time stuck in storage? Shouldn’t the sensor have worn out? Shouldn’t whatever battery that powered it have corroded? 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!”

The music faded, and Avery started to breathe again, started to get lost in his relief once more, gushing and gushing away… And then, that infernal song started right back up once more! 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!” 

Avery’s eyes flicked to the other side of the room. Lydia was facing out the window, but he could see her shoulders shaking and knew she was trying very, very hard not to laugh. Avery couldn’t even believe this level of embarrassment was possible. He was starting to think that outright wetting himself in front of Lydia would have been less humiliating than this. 

“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!” 

Avery pushed down on his muscles as hard as he could, no longer caring if he overflowed his STP and made a mess of himself. He just wanted his bladder empty as fast as possible to make this end. He was shocked by how much pee was inside him, and started to become terrified that the potty chair had cursed him to pee forever and ever while it mocked him relentlessly. 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!” 

Avery just kept pouring, and he began to realize he was getting dangerously close to overflowing the plastic receptacle. Oh, please, not that too! He silently begged inside his mind. He felt close to finished. He hoped he’d manage it before the song entered its next loop. 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!”

Of course, he could not be that lucky. By the time the verse wound down, he was finished and shook out his prosthetic. A few drops hit the seat, but he didn’t care. The accursed object deserved it. 

“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!” 

He zipped himself up and just lay down on the floor and stared at the ceiling as the song continued to play on until it was over. 

“Look at me,
Using the potty! 
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty! 
I’m a big kid! 
Using the potty! 
It’s potty time!”

Avery no longer feared Hell, for he now knew that there existed something much worse. 

Lydia turned around slightly. “Done?” she called. 

Avery just groaned. 

Lydia cupped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’d forgotten it did that,” she said. “I’m surprised it even still works. It must use a pretty powerful battery.” 

“Wow, I’m so glad they sprung for the expensive parts,” Avery said monotonously. 

“You must feel at least a little better?” Lydia asked. 

“I yearn for death,” Avery responded. “But, at least I don’t have to pee anymore.” 

“There you go!” Lydia smiled. “That’s one thing to be happy about!” 

A few minutes later, the door opened. Pauline was in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes. “I heard something,” she said. “Was that the potty I had when I was little?” 

“We’ve been stuck here a while,” Lydia said. “Because the door has issues. Avery had a bit of an emergency.” 

“Did he make it in time?” Pauline asked, and Avery wished there wasn’t so much genuine concern in her voice. 

“Yeah,” Lydia said. 

“Yay,” Pauline said. “I think the stickers I used to get for making it are in here too!” she said. “He needs one!” 

“No,” Avery raised a hand. “I don’t. I really don’t.” 

“But, you did a good job!” Pauline said. 

“I promise, I don’t need a sticker…”

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10 hours ago, OPencil said:

Whoa, this is amazing! I looove the length and sustained details. Thank you ❤️

Thanks! I'm super glad you're enjoying this! 

*** 

‘Oh, for God’s sake…’ Avery thought as he hobbled down the sidewalk with his thighs scrunched together. ‘I live in one of the biggest cities in the world; Why the Hell can’t I find somewhere to pee?!’ He’d thought finding a public toilet in New York would have been the easiest thing in the world, but so far today that had NOT been the case, and it really ticked him off, honestly. The reason he’d gotten into this situation was rather aggravating as well. 

He’d spent all morning at the aquarium, watching the fish float and drift and swim through their tanks. It had been so relaxing and calming, and the way the fish all stayed grouped together and never left anyone out for being different or strange was comforting. But, after several hours, three large drinks, and the continuous sight and sound of water, Avery needed a toilet. Bad. 

Naturally, his next stop was the men’s room at the aquarium. Where he made the unpleasant discovery that the urinals were too high up for him to use. Avery was very small, urinals were installed at a height meant for an average cisgender male, and sometimes a little taller than that. So, occasionally, that happened; Avery would be too short to reach the urinal and pee into it without making a mess. It usually wasn’t a big, huge deal. 

Except, it was today because the one stall was out of order. 

He’d been disappointed, because with as uncomfortable and heavy as his bladder was, he knew that meant he had to leave and find somewhere else to pee. But, he’d been there for hours already, and he could always come back another time. He couldn’t put off peeing for too much longer, though. 

Near the aquarium was an amusement park, which he knew would have at least one restroom somewhere. It wasn’t a long walk, but time just had a way of slowing down when he really, really needed the toilet. As people bustled around him, he felt an itching sensation beneath his skin. He felt so vulnerable whenever he was on his own in public. And being alone in public with an aching bladder just made him feel even more vulnerable. He pulled his black hat down to partially cover his face and the features he thought looked too soft. He hoped he could use the toilet at the park without having to spend any money; He’d used up all the cash he had at the aquarium already. 

As he got to the entrance of the park, he was rehearsing what he was going to say. “Can I come in without paying? I’m not gonna do any rides or anything, I just need to use the restroom and I don’t have any money.” It turned out all his rehearsing was for nothing though, the park wasn’t open this time of year. 

Would it be okay to go inside anyway? Just to pee really quick? Hopefully the toilets still functioned when the park was closed, Avery didn’t really know how plumbing worked and if it got shut off when a place wasn’t open… Maybe he could just sneak in, find the restroom, pee, and leave? No one would know? 

But, then he saw what looked like a security camera. He imagined himself getting caught on camera breaking into the park. The police would come. And he didn’t know if they’d believe his claim that he just wanted to use the toilet… 

He could just go home, he supposed. He knew he could hold it until then. He went to the subway station. He’d allowed himself the briefest hope that there would be a restroom in it, but there wasn’t. He boarded the train, his thighs pressed together as he took a seat. It started to move and Avery tugged at his bangs as a wicked pang tore through him. Every bump in the track made his muscles sting and ache. He huffed through his nose, trying to get a handle on the situation. He bounced his legs, twisted every which way, and accidentally kicked the person next to him. 

The person looked down at him and grimaced, “Watch it,” he said gruffly. 

“S—Sorry!!” Avery squeaked out. ‘Fix your voice!’ he mentally screamed at himself. He cleared his throat, which painfully vibrated the walls of his soon to be overflowing bladder. His nails began to scrape against his knees in agitation. “Just… In a hurry,” he said, lowering his voice as much as he could manage when his body was under so much strain. “I didn’t mean to.” 

Avery tapped his foot impatiently. He knew he’d only just gotten on the train, but time had slowed so considerably for him that he felt like he’d been stuck riding on it for hours already. 

His bladder was considerably swollen, firm and round between his hips. He tried not to think about how long it would take to reach his stop. He tried not to think about how, even once he was there, he’d still have a bit more walking to do to get to his apartment. He tried not to think of the way he’d have to wait for the elevator to reach his floor. How he’d have to walk TO the restroom, how he’d have to unzip… He especially tried not to think about how terribly good peeing was gonna feel… 

There was another bump then that rattled Avery and made his bladder bounce up and down against his straining muscles. A very short spurt of pee shot out and he tightened his thighs to keep the rest of the burden from following suit. “Oooooh—!” he cried out in shock at the awful momentary loss of control. He cringed at the sound. It was so high, so squeaky. How could he have allowed that to come out of his mouth!? He felt his face flame and his heart began to pound as he feared someone had heard it. 

He felt his pee sloshing with every turn in the track. At a couple stops, he considered bolting from his seat and trying to see if there was a restroom at the station, but he didn’t want to risk having to wait even LONGER if it turned out there wasn’t one. The guy beside him looked at him again at one point, after Avery had accidentally let another one of those awful squeaks fall from his lips. “Are you about to throw up or something?” the guy asked. 

Avery felt his blush grow deeper. He pulled his hat down so that the brim covered his eyes. “I…” he straightened his throat, trying to deepen his nervous, shaky tone. “I’m… I’m not sick. I just really need a restroom,” he admitted, looking away and crossing his ankles. He didn’t know if he could possibly feel more embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he’d just told a total stranger he was bursting for a piss. He’d just really needed to explain all those stupid noises he couldn’t stop making. 

“I think there’s one at the next station,” the guy said. “But, if I were you I’d just hold it, dude. Those things haven’t been cleaned since the day they were built.” 

Avery was too dismayed by the news that the restrooms were basically unusable to be happy the guy had called him ‘dude’. “That sucks…” he said quietly. He hoped his voice sounded okay. He hoped it didn’t sound weird or forced or fake or anything like that. At least now that the guy knew he had to pee, he didn’t have to try and force himself to hide his need anymore. He allowed himself to jiggle in his seat, toes tapping with needy anxiety. He sat up a little straighter, trying to give his bladder more space, only to double over a few seconds later. 

When they arrived at the next station, Avery considered getting up and trying to find the toilet the guy had told him should be nearby. Even if it DID turn out to be totally disgusting, Avery thought he could put up with a few minutes of revulsion if it meant he’d get to have an empty bladder. And at least it wasn’t like he had to worry about sitting down anymore. 

Before he could make a decision, the doors were already closed and the train was moving once more. Now that his bladder knew it had been denied once again, it only seemed to want to empty more! He wished for the thousandth time that he was just a little taller! If he was taller, he could have just used one of the perfectly empty urinals at the aquarium and wouldn’t be IN this mess. He wouldn’t have to deal with his awful, straining weight in his abdomen right now. He could be nice and empty and comfortable. Why hadn’t the aquarium at least had one urinal that was a little lower to the ground. Surely people brought young kids there sometimes, what were THEY supposed to do? 

Avery tugged at his bangs as a wicked pang tore through him. Every bump made his muscles sting and ache. He huffed through his nose, trying to get a handle on the situation. He bounced his legs, twisted every which way, and held on for dear life until finally the train had arrived at his station. 

As slowly and carefully as he could manage, he raised himself from his seat and hobbled out the doors like a shaky legged newborn lamb. ‘I’m close,’ he thought. ‘I’m so close.’ Climbing the stairs to leave the station made Avery feel like some higher power was punishing him for whatever heinous deeds he’d committed during his past life. Limping the last few blocks to his building resulted in more than a few spurts of liquid making it to his boxers. He felt warmth and dampness building between his legs and his thighs began to chafe as they rubbed against the wet patch. 

He arrived at his building at last, hurried to the elevator and jabbed the button for his floor. As the elevator began to ascend, Avery jumped up and down, hopping from foot to foot like the floor he was standing on was made of fire. The doors dinged open, and he made it the last few steps to his door. He reached into his pocket for his key… 

Then he checked his other pocket. 

Then his back pockets. 

Then the pocket of his hoodie. 

He didn’t have his key. 

He felt his stomach sink. He felt it sink until it was resting right on top of his bladder and adding to the already insurmountable pressure within it. Leaning against the wall and twisting his legs into a very distressed pretzel, he took out his phone and texted his uncle. 

FORGOT MY KEY

LOCKED OUT

REALLY NEED TO GET INSIDE
WILL YOU BE HOME SOON? 

He waited for what felt like an hour but was really only thirty seconds, before he got a reply. 

GONNA BE ABOUT AN HOUR

STILL HAVE TO PICK UP A FEW GROCERIES

SORRY 

I’LL ORDER YOU A PIZZA WHEN I’M BACK TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙂

Avery groaned and wedged a hand between his thighs as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. A pizza was not going to make up for pissing his pants in the hallway. Avery could not wait another hour. He absolutely couldn’t. It was physically impossible. His bladder was so god damned full it felt like any second he was going to turn the hall into a disgusting swimming pool with ‘water’ deep enough for diving. He couldn’t hold it another hour. He tried knocking on a few of his neighbors’ doors, intending to beg them for permission to use their restroom, but no one answered. 

He had to find somewhere else to go. 

Hopefully that would be simple. 

Reluctantly, he returned to the elevator, and as he dragged his water-logged, shaking body through the lobby, he wished once more that there were restrooms in it. He shoved open the door with his shoulder, his hands now pressed against his thighs, trying to reinforce their efforts to keep his monsoon at bay. 

All of that was why Avery was now limping down the sidewalk, wondering how in the Hell he could have such a hard time finding a public toilet in New York freaking City. He’d tried two places so far, both of which asked him to buy something first. Avery, of course, had no more money with him and so had been unable to use the facilities he was starting to feel like he’d KILL for. 

The leaks had kept up, steady, trickling little bursts that came every few minutes and continued to take a more and more concentrated effort to clamp off. He was going to have an accident. He was basically HAVING an accident now already, just not to the extent he needed to be. Maybe he should have just stayed in the hallway to piss himself. At least in there there hadn’t been any witnesses. But, out here on the streets people were walking everywhere and the roads were packed full of cars. So many people to gawk at him as he flooded his pants and probably at least half the city, creating a catastrophic disaster the likes of which had never been seen before. 

A few times, Avery had relieved himself onto walls outside. But, all those times it had been at night and he’d tucked himself in a deep, dark crevice between two buildings. And his uncle had been there to keep watch for him. But, now it was daylight, he couldn’t find an alleyway he felt confident would leave him enough privacy, and there was no one around to act as look-out. Someone could see, and he could get into terrible trouble. 

He couldn’t go outside, and he couldn’t find any place where he could go inside either. But, it wasn’t as if he could just NOT go! He was coming apart at the seams, struggling more and more with each step, unable to stop dribbling away into his clothes. He was sure there was a damp spot on him now, he was sure it would be visible. Not that anyone who passed him by could have been under any illusions in regards to his current state. He was doubled over, walking cross-legged. Anyone with eyes would be able to tell that Avery needed a restroom in the worst way. 

He needed somewhere to pee. He would sell his soul for somewhere to pee! He felt tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He was so embarrassed, he was so frustrated, and above all he was in so much pain he could hardly stand it. He noticed the entrance to another subway station and considered venturing down there in hope of finding a toilet. Even if it was splattered with all manner of unpleasant filth, he wouldn’t care. All he’d care about was whether or not there was something he could piss into inside of it. He hobbled down the stairs, losing squirt after squirt every time his foot dropped down onto a new step.

There was a security guard near the turnstiles, and Avery limped up to him. “E—Excuse me,” he said softly, his voice was cracking and he hated the sound of it even more than he usually did. “I—Is there a restroom down here?”

The security guard shook his head, “Sorry,” he said.

And Avery wanted to cry. He almost begged the guard to come with him and be his lookout while he made a mad dash down an alleyway and hosed the living daylights out of a wall, but he doubted a law enforcement officer would want to aid him in committing a crime. 

He checked his watch. Maybe it had been an hour. Maybe his uncle would be home now and he’d just have to try and make it back to his apartment. But, when he looked, it had only been about twenty minutes. 

He was going to pee his pants. 

At least the only people around him right now were strangers. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone he knew was here to see him explode. He didn’t know what he’d do if Lydia were— 

Lydia! 

New hope flowing through his veins and reinvigorating his exhausted muscles, Avery hurried to get onto a train. He just had to hope Lydia was at her apartment now. He just had to forget how embarrassing turning up at her door and immediately demanding the toilet was going to be. He just had to hold on until he got there. 

It wasn’t a long ride to Lydia’s area of the city, but Avery kept losing drops along the way. When he managed to move his hands away from his crotch for a few seconds, he saw a large wet spot in between his legs, and a few more patches of dampness going down them. It was already obvious he’d lost control of his bladder today, but he would do anything to avoid a complete soaking. 

Even humiliating himself by begging Lydia for a toilet. 

As he dragged himself the last little way to Lydia’s building and flung himself into the elevator, he tried not to think of ways this could go wrong. He hit the button for her floor and tried not to worry that Lydia might not be home to save him. He tried not to worry that there could be an issue with her bathroom, that the toilet could be busted or the door could be stuck. He told himself that Lydia or some member of her family HAD to be home, and that their toilet HAD to be working. 

The doors slid open and Avery was right at the door to Lydia’s apartment. He barely managed to move a hand from between his coiled legs to knock on the door. ‘Please be home, please be home, please be home…’ 

The door opened, and there was Lydia. “Hey, Avery,” she said. “Just so you know, my Mom’s home so be quie—“

“Please, please, please let me use your bathroom, please!?” Avery blurted out. 

Lydia only seemed to realize then how distressed Avery’s appearance was. He noticed her staring at the wet stains present on his pant-legs and was shocked he didn’t have the strength or energy left to feel embarrassed about them. 

“Of course you ca—“ Before Lydia could finish, Avery had rushed inside, muttering breathy “Thank you!”s under his breath. 

Avery heard more pee hissing into his jeans as he made himself run to the restroom. The minute his shoe hit the floor past the threshold of that blessed room, he was peeing out the stream he’d been just barely restraining all day. It was coming out weak, but was threatening to build into an uncontrollably, hissing gush at any second. ‘No, no!’ he thought desperately. ‘Hold on!’ 

He didn’t have time to worry about the door. He barely had time to get his zip down and stand himself in front of the toilet that he needed as badly as he needed oxygen to breathe. He aimed his prosthetic, and fumbled with shaky hands to ensure it was positioned correctly. Thank goodness it was, the new harness he had for it did a good job of keeping it exactly where he needed it. Which was wonderful for moments like this where he didn’t have a second to lose repositioning it.

His muscles seemed to forget what their purpose even was when he was finally at the toilet, finally free to let it out. Pee erupted from him like he was a geyser, spraying viciously into the water in the toilet bowl. It took a few moments for his bleary mind to comprehend that this was finally happening. He was peeing. He was finally peeing. Once he registered that he’d done it, that he’d made it and that he was actually going after all this time, relief covered him like a soft, warm blanket and his body became engulfed in tingly shivers. 

He’d forgotten about the weird ‘features’ Lydia’s toilet had and jumped a little when it chimed and informed him “Hydration level high”, but just a split second later he was melting away into the relief of it all once again. 

“Ahhhhh… That’s so good…” Avery sighed. He leaned forward as far as he could, a position that helped his prosthetic drain out faster. Since he really had no control over his flow right now, he needed to make sure all that liquid moved through the funnel as fast as it possibly could. He didn’t feel himself overflowing it, and that made him feel even more relaxed. He didn’t have to worry anymore. He could just pee. 

And that’s what he did. He just peed and moaned and shivered for so, so long. Once his waterfall finally stopped, the toilet chimed again “123 seconds,” it stated. Wow. Over two minutes… Avery didn’t know if he’d ever peed for THAT long before in his life. 

He continued standing there in a total daze. It took almost thirty seconds for him to remember himself enough to shake out his STP and zip back up. He moved to the sink to wash his hands and splash a bit of water on his face. He was utterly exhausted, he felt drained and wrung out absolutely everywhere, not just in his bladder. 

He turned and saw that the door was wide open. He’d been in such a frenzy he hadn’t really thought about that important step of the peeing process. His face beet-red, he stepped out of the room. Lydia was standing down the hall. “I didn’t watch!” she blurted immediately. 

Avery’s face somehow managed to get redder and he didn’t respond. 

“I— Only for a second,” Lydia said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and then the door was open, and I only saw for a second, I didn’t watch you!” 

“Sorry…” Avery said. “About… All of this.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Lydia said. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to find a restroom here sometimes.” 

“I definitely was surprised,” Avery agreed quietly. He looked down at his jeans, at all the wet spots visible from all the leaks he’d been unable to stop. There was a huge one at his zipper from that last second loss of control… 

“Just tie your jacket around your waist when you go home,” Lydia said. “You’ll be okay.” 

“Thanks,” Avery said, following her suggestion. His jacket did manage to conceal a lot of the larger damp areas. There were still a few lower down on his legs, but those could have easily come from other things. “Thank you so much,” he added. “I’d been dying to go for hours, you have no idea.”

“You’re welcome,” Lydia said. “Glad you’re feeling better.”

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Avery had had a very long day, and it was only going to get even longer. He only had one final class left to sit through, just one more hour until school was over, but the thing was that having a full bladder could easily make one hour feel more like twenty. And, dear Lord was Avery’s bladder full right now. 

Avery wasn’t desperate to pee. No. He went past ‘desperate’ a few hours ago. Now he was feeling something altogether new. He had to pee worse than he’d ever thought it was possible to have to pee. He needed to pee worse than he’d ever needed to pee in his life. He had to pee worse than anyone in history had ever needed to pee, he was sure of it. 

Avery. Had. To. Pee. 

He had not urinated all day. Literally, ALL day. Not a single, minuscule, little drop. He hadn’t pissed at all since around four o’clock in the morning. Ordinarily, he was annoyed when his sleep was interrupted by his bladder. But, today he was grateful that it had caused him to stumble to the toilet in the middle of the night and empty it out. Because, if it hadn’t done that, then he would definitely be sitting in a puddle right now. 

His alarm hadn’t gone off this morning. When Uncle Bart came in to see if he was getting ready and found him still asleep, he’d woken him up himself. Avery rushed to get his clothes on and head out the door, forgetting to use the toilet before leaving. But, since he’d gone during the night, it wasn’t too big of an emergency. ‘I’ll just go as soon as I’m at school,’ he thought. 

But, then his late start to the morning had caused him to show up at school late as well. He’d needed to go straight to his first class, no time to stop at the restroom for some relief. But, still, he didn’t have to go THAT badly. It was just a little, annoying hum in his middle. He could make it until the class was over, no problem. 

When that class let out, he MEANT to go straight in the direction of the nearest restroom. But, Lydia was walking beside him, talking to him about stuff, and he ended up feeling too awkward to tell her to hang on for a minute while he went to the toilet. Before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk for his next class, his bladder still neglected and still filling up. ‘I’ll go right after this one,’ he decided. 

Except, after that class ended, he STILL didn’t go. Nothing happened to stop him, he just still didn’t really NEED the toilet that much and it slipped his mind as he headed to third period. It wasn’t until he’d sat down and his jeans pressed themselves against his bladder that he remembered he still hadn’t urinated yet today. ‘Go as soon as this class is done,’ he scolded himself. 

But, of course, he still didn’t have the chance. The teacher prattled on until AFTER the bell had rung, and Avery’s fourth period class was all the way on the other end of the school. Which meant he had to RUN there if he wanted to make it in time, and a toilet stop was completely out of the question. 

Except, by THAT point a toilet stop was beginning to creep its way up to the top of Avery’s list of priorities. All through that fourth class, he was tapping his foot beneath his desk and occasionally glancing up at the clock. He had lunch after fourth period though, so he was positive that relief must have been right around the corner. As he sat there, he started to fantasize about it. There was a restroom pretty close to this classroom, it would only take a couple minutes to walk there. He’d push open the door, get himself in front of the first vacant urinal he saw, and let his tense muscles have a nice, well deserved break. He imagined how his stream would look and sound as it trickled out, how good it would feel to allow his bladder to deflate… 

The bell rang and Avery’s bladder loosened itself in anticipation. Very eagerly, he left the classroom and headed down the hall towards the toilets. By that point, the annoying buzzing in his middle had turned into a much more insistent throb, telling him he’d better get himself in front of a urinal soon unless he wanted to really suffer. He was VERY nearly there when he was stopped by the guidance counselor, Ms. Wren. 

Avery had forgotten that it was a Wednesday, the day he had to spend his lunch period talking with her. He didn’t understand WHY exactly. He never had anything to talk about and she always asked him questions that he didn’t like giving answers to. Stuff about his parents, or about the treatment facility they’d made him go to, or about other students picking on him. Avery didn’t understand why he had to TALK about those things, talking didn’t change anything. His parents weren’t going to accept him because he told the guidance counsellor how he felt. The memories of the treatment facility wouldn’t vanish just because he’d dredged them back up again to tell someone about them. And, the people who bullied him would still bully him no matter how many times he ‘shared his feelings’ about it. 

He thought his sessions with the counsellor were pointless on a good day, but today when he had something else he REALLY had to go do instead, sitting through it was even worse. When she stopped him, what he wanted to do was gesture to the restroom he’d been about to go into and say “Hold on a minute, gotta go first,” but for whatever reason it was a little too hard for him to find his voice in order to do that. 

“Avery,” she had said upon noticing him getting jittery. “This is a safe place, don’t feel nervous.” 

‘I’m not nervous, I just really have to go to the bathroom,’ Avery thought. But, then he realized he must have been a little nervous too, because he found he couldn’t actually SAY that to her. He WANTED to. He really, really did! He wanted to say “I need to use the restroom, could I please go?” He wanted to say “I promise I’m not trying to skip out on you, I just haven’t had a chance to go all day and I really have to.” He wanted to say “Please? I promise I’ll be fast.” 

But, he couldn’t say any of it. The little voice in his head that was always beating down on him was too loud. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to be wasting her time with you to begin with,’ the voice said. ‘Don’t waste any more of it by making her wait around while you take a piss.’ He knew these thoughts weren’t true. One of the things he HAD learned in these sessions was that he had a ‘very negative internal voice’, and that the things it told him about himself were untrue and should just be ignored. But, ignoring them was a lot easier said than done. 

“Avery, is something bothering you more than usual today?” Ms. Wren asked. “You seem very distracted.” 

‘Yes! I need the toilet!’ Avery thought urgently. But, what he said was “I… I guess I am kind of nervous. I just don’t know why.” 

She talked to him for a bit about how that was normal, a lot of people got anxious without really knowing the reason sometimes. But, of course, Avery DID actually know the reason now. The reason was that he had to pee pretty badly and couldn’t work up the nerve to say so. Ms. Wren went on about how it made sense he felt like he was under pressure right now after all the trauma he had gone through. Avery couldn’t stop thinking about how right she was. He WAS under a lot of pressure. He was under so much pressure he could barely stand it! When she stopped and asked him another question, he almost said “I have to use the bathroom now, okay?” but the words stayed locked up inside his throat. ‘Don’t waste her time with this,’ his inner voice scolded. 

The lunch period ended and so did Avery’s counseling session. At no point did he manage to tell Ms. Wren that he needed the bathroom, at no point did he get to go use it. So, when he got to his next class, he was freaking out a bit. His need had gotten bad enough that he was rocking in his seat a little every few minutes, and his eyes were completely glued to the clock. ‘I just HAVE to go after this one,’ he thought. ‘I can’t take much more of this. It’s getting real bad!’ 

He didn’t go after that class either. The teacher wanted to discuss something with him. Avery wasn’t even sure what it was. Everything she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It was something about how if he was worried about something, he was free to talk to her about it, but Avery couldn’t concentrate. He just kept looking at the clock, growing less and less certain that he’d have time to use the restroom before his next class. 

“I can tell you’re feeling stressed,” she was saying. “And I know you’ve had a rough couple of years. I want you to know that, if I can help you in any way, you just need to tell me what’s bothering you.” 

Avery kept nodding his head up and down automatically, not processing a word of it. By the time she let him go, it was too late for him to stop off at the toilet, and he wanted to cry as he walked right past a restroom without letting himself go inside. The thing he needed more than anything was right beyond that door, but he couldn’t go through it without being late. And, he COULDN’T be late. He might get in trouble. He might get detention, and they might call his uncle. Avery already felt like a big enough burden on him for taking up space inside his home, so he really, really wanted to stay out of trouble. 

His next class was chemistry and he very nearly DID start crying when he realized he’d have to pour liquids and swish them together for an hour while holding back a bladder that was beginning to feel more than a bit too stretched out. He looked at the clock as he sat down. It was two in the afternoon. He hadn’t urinated in ten hours, and he was absolutely miserable with the need to do so. He was starting to honestly feel a little scared, too. He knew he couldn’t keep holding it indefinitely, sooner or later his pee was going to HAVE to come out, and the hope that he’d be in the proper place when that finally happened was quickly decreasing. 

He was paired up with Lydia to mix a few chemicals together and take notes on how they interacted with one another. Shimmying his hips and bouncing his knees, he asked if she minded mixing them. “I need— I… I just can’t pour stuff right now, okay?” he said. 

Lydia may not have been able to discern body language and facial expressions super easily a lot of the time, but she was beginning to get a lot better at telling when Avery needed to pee now that she’d seen him get desperate a few times. “Avery, do you need to go to the bathroom?” she asked, much too loudly for Avery’s liking. 

“Shhh,” Avery hushed her. “Yes, I do,” he added in a whisper. 

“Ask to go, then,” Lydia said. “We’re not starting the assignment for a few more minutes, anyway.” 

Avery turned and looked at their teacher Ms. Hartley’s desk. He imagined himself rushing over and mumbling softly “May I please, please go use the restroom before we start? It’s an emergency.” And then she’d say “Of course you may,” and she’d give him a pass. Then he’d hurry down the hallway, fling open the door to the men’s room, unzip at a urinal, and finally feel all better. 

But, then he imagined himself rushing over and mumbling softly “May I please, please go use the restroom before we start? It’s an emergency.” And, instead of giving him a pass, Ms. Hartley would just shake her head, tell him he should have gone during the break, and say it so loudly everyone in class heard and turned around to look. They’d stare at his twisting hips and crossing legs and know that he was BEYOND desperate to pee. They’d laugh and he’d feel so ashamed, and— 

“She’ll let you go,” Lydia interrupted his panicked, racing thoughts. “I don’t know if it was like this at your old school, but here it’s, like, a policy. They HAVE to let us go because we can’t learn if we’re too busy needing to pee.” 

Avery nodded. That was a nice policy. A lot better than it had been at his old school back when he lived with his parents. There, everyone got two toilet passes at the beginning of each semester, and once they’d used them up then they wouldn’t be allowed to use the restroom anymore no matter how many times they asked or how badly they had to go. Avery remembered several horrible days where he’d been squirming at his desk, debating if he should use one of his passes or save it for a later date where he may be even MORE desperate for a pee. 

He was relieved that apparently nothing like that happened here. “I’m gonna ask,” he whispered. 

Except, then Ms. Hartley went to the front of the class and began talking everyone through the experiment. And Avery didn’t feel so sure anymore. It was one thing to go up to her desk and whisper to her that he REALLY needed to pee. It was quite another to raise his hand and announce it to the entire class. ‘Wait until she’s done talking,’ he told himself. 

Except, she just kept talking. And talking. And talking. And Avery just sat there, fidgeting and squirming and tapping his feet against the floor. He cringed every time Lydia poured a solution into a beaker, and jiggled up and down each time she mixed them together, the liquid sloshing and making the urine in his bladder do the same. 

He kept staring at a few of the beakers that were remaining empty. The openings were pretty narrow, but he didn’t think he’d have too much trouble…Well, ‘using’ one of them without spilling anything. That would certainly feel pretty good. He’d get to be all nice and relieved without having to bother anybody about it. He’d pee and pee until he was good and empty and didn’t have to worry about anything anymore… 

And, he’d get into a whole lot of trouble. 

He shook his head, as if to clear the image of himself pissing forcefully into the beaker from his mind. He couldn’t believe he’d seriously just thought about doing that. He’d have to stand from his seat, which would surely make everyone look at him. And then his pee would hiss and spatter noisily as he let it flow. In what universe was all THAT less embarrassing than simply raising his hand and admitting that he needed to go? 

Clearly, his desperation for the toilet was beginning to mess with his brain. He was so stuffed with piss that it was probably filling up his head by now. He NEEDED to let it out NOW. He HAD to ask to be excused, he could NOT take it anymore. Except, Ms. Hartley was right in the middle of explaining something. It would be rude to interrupt her now, wouldn’t it? What if she got annoyed with him? What if she thought he was childish and irresponsible for making the whole class pause what they were doing just so that he could ask for the restroom? 

Better to wait until she’d stopped for a second on her own. That would cause less trouble for everyone else. He could hold it a little bit longer. He could! He knew he could! It just… It just really, really hurt right now and he didn’t WANT to keep holding it. But, not wanting to hold it was not the same thing as not being ABLE to hold it. His pee was staying right where it belonged, which was painful and was causing tears to prick in the corners of his eyes, but it WAS still staying in there, at least. He leaned back in his seat, trying to give his bladder a little more room inside his body to spread out, but there was barely any space left in there for it. It was so swollen, so full… 

Ms. Hartley kept talking and talking, and Avery never felt like there was a good time to interrupt. So, he just kept sitting there, twitching his hips and tapping his feet and begging for time to speed up. 

Once class was done with, he gently got to his feet. His bladder felt gigantic by then, he could almost feel it pressing firmly into his other organs. It was making it difficult to breathe. Determined not to let anything stop him this time, he started to bolt for the door. “Could someone stay back and help with putting away the beakers?” his teacher asked. 

Avery hesitated. Everyone was leaving except for him and Lydia… He didn’t want to leave her and their teacher alone to do everything, but his bladder was begging him to. ‘Go!’ he screamed at himself. ‘You idiot! Do you just WANT to have an accident!?’ 

Lydia nudged him and pointed out the door, “Avery,” she said. “I can—“ 

“Thank you both,” their teacher said, and Avery knew he didn’t have it in him to leave now. So, he spent all the time he SHOULD have been using to urinate putting away beakers instead.

And all of that was why now, as he sat down at his desk for his final class of the day, Avery was absolutely positive he was going to explode before it was over. He was angry with himself for it, he’d had lots of chances to go throughout the day and had continually turned them all down for one reason or another. It was his own fault that he was so desperate now. 

Lydia was seated beside him, “Ask to go,” she whispered. 

Avery nodded. He had every intention to do exactly that. His bladder was BEGGING and SCREAMING at him to do exactly that. His knees bounced up and down underneath his desk, like he was pumping the pedals of a bicycle. His hands were gripping onto his chair, and he was dying to put them between his legs instead. Sweat was running off his body in sheets. He had waited WAY too long, and absolutely NOTHING good could come from continuing to wait even more. 

Ms. Johnson was at her desk. All Avery had to do was get up and go tell her that he needed the restroom. Once he did that, all his troubles would be over, he’d be freed from the horrific burden trapped inside his body. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to stand— 

Ms. Johnson got up and walked over to the chalkboard. She started to address the class and Avery, whom had only just started to raise himself from his seat, dropped back down again and allowed his legs to cross. Ms. Johnson kept talking and talking and talking. Avery kept hoping she’d hand them worksheets, or tell them to silently read a few chapters out of the book they were studying this semester. Something that would result in her going back to her desk so that Avery could quietly and discreetly request a toilet break. But, five minutes passed and that didn’t happen. Then ten. Then fifteen. And Avery was dying. 

That had to be it. He MUST have been actually, literally dying. That was the only explanation for why it hurt THIS badly. His urethra was throbbing and burning, his abdomen was filled with a rush of pain. His entire lower half must have been made up of nothing but tense, coiled muscles and gallons of urine. His back had started to ache. It was a light, tender feeling, not nearly as intense as what was happening in his middle. He thought a fire must have been igniting inside his body, his piss was absolutely BOILING. He felt like he was holding in every drop of liquid on the planet, all of it trying to force its way through his trembling, exhausted urethral opening. His body wanted to transform itself into a geyser, his bladder wanted him to let it relax for just a second. Just one second. Just one, little second would feel so, so wonderful. His whole body was tight and tense. So much pulsing, so much twitching, so much swelling, so much pressure. It was unbearable! He wriggled his thighs and everything still felt dry, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to say that. 

He rocked back and forth in his seat, his eyes squeezed themselves shut, he chewed on his lip, and he begged and begged for time to move faster. He begged and begged for Ms. Johnson to go to her desk so that he could ask her to be excused without everyone else hearing, and— 

“Ah!” Avery gasped as he was startled by a sudden pulse of liquid. His first leak had broken free, blooming warm and sticky in his boxers. 

Everyone turned to look at Avery after his outburst. 

“Avery…?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Did you have something to say?” 

‘Please, please, let me use the toilet, please?’ Avery wanted to shout. ‘It’s an emergency! I can’t hold it! I really, really can’t hold it!’ He forced his eyes back open and directed them towards the clock. When he saw that there was still half an hour left in class, he felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. He couldn’t wait through that. He couldn’t. He had to go so, so much… “Uh—Um…” he began, almost in a whisper. Everyone was looking at him, staring at him. What if Lydia was wrong? What if it wasn’t actually the policy to let everyone use the restroom when they asked? What if Ms. Johnson said no to him in front of everybody? He just KNEW that if that happened, he’d end up begging her! He’d be letting everyone know that he was bursting and couldn’t hold it! “May… May I…” 

“Avery?” 

“May I please use the toilet?” Avery asked very, very, very softly. So softly it was like he hadn’t even said it at all. 

“Huh?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Speak up.” 

“Never mind,” Avery said, a little louder. 

Ms. Johnson stared at him for one more second, then resumed her lesson. And Avery hated himself. He’d gotten so close, SO close, to doing it; To speaking up about his needs and asking someone else to assist him, but he’d still failed at the last second. He DESERVED to be in this much pain. He DESERVED to burst. He DESERVED to have an accident right here in class in front of everybody. Maybe that would teach him to stop being such a sniveling, weak little coward that was so terrified of other human beings that he’d rather let his bladder explode than say a few simple words to someone. 

Lydia was the only one looking at him now, and instead of staring in amusement or confusion like everyone else had been, the only thing present on Lydia’s face was concern. Avery hated himself even more for worrying her. This was such a stupid thing to make someone else worry about. It was HIS fault he was so desperate, he’d basically CHOSEN this, Lydia shouldn’t have cared about it at all. She SHOULD have been revolted by him, she SHOULD have thought he was disgusting, and weak, and a pathetic excuse for a person. That was the only way anyone should think of someone that didn’t even have the courage to ask for a toilet pass when they were on the verge of a full-blown accident. 

Lydia leaned closer to him, “I’ll ask,” she whispered. 

Avery stared, twisting in his chair. “You don’t ha—“ 

Lydia raised her hand up and waved it around. 

“Lydia?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Did you have a questi—“ 

“Ms. Johnson, Avery REALLY needs to pee. Like, SUPER bad. Can he please go?” 

Avery only THEN realized that his hands had tucked between his legs, because when he instinctively tried to grab onto his hat to pull it over his eyes out of embarrassment, he found he couldn’t move them. A few of his classmates looked at him and began to laugh, now seeing his coiled legs and restless fidgeting in a new light. 

Ms. Johnson looked at Avery for a second, and he wasn’t sure if she was staring at his by-now blatantly obvious pee-dance, or wondering why he apparently couldn’t ask her for permission himself. “Avery, you may be excused,” she said. 

Even through all the embarrassment he felt; From needing to have someone ELSE get him permission to take a toilet break, from Lydia’s poor word choice and the way she emphasized the severity of his need, from the way he couldn’t stop squirming and holding himself… Even through all that humiliation, he felt immensely relieved now that he knew he was finally free to go. It was all about to be over… Just a few more minutes and he’d be at a urinal, peeing his heart out. He could make it a few more minutes. 

Avery clenched every muscle in his lower body and slowly dragged himself up and onto his feet. It wasn’t as difficult as he’d feared it would be. The knowledge that relief, beautiful, sweet, glorious relief, was so, so close to being his helped him find the willpower to stand up. ‘I can make it…’ he thought. ‘I can make it, I can make it, I can make it.’ He stumbled to the door, feeling everyone’s eyes on him, and feeling the way it made his neck heat up and his hair stand on end. 

Once out in the hallway, tears were running down Avery’s face without him noticing. His brain was filled with static and white-noise and pain as he told his body to start walking in the direction of the toilets. He was starting to wonder if it was possible for his bladder to actually rip; If little tears were forming in its sensitive walls already. He felt like there must have been. He felt like his urine was clawing and scratching, trying to find a way out. Every step caused his urethra to burn with the intensity of a wildfire. Every time his foot hit the ground, he felt like he was being punched in the stomach. But, he was making it. He was moving. 

The world had shrunken considerably. The only thing that seemed to exist anymore was Avery’s bladder. That, and the boiling, stinging pain that was roosting itself against his quivering, overworked urethral opening, trying its best to restrain the gallons and gallons of pee sloshing and crashing and doing everything it could to force its way out. ‘I need to go,’ his brain screamed. ‘I need to go so bad!’ 

His steps started to grow a little less painful, like his swollen bladder was beginning to adjust itself to being jostled around. Maybe it was getting used to being bounced. Or maybe his muscles were just pulled so ridiculously taut that they were all starting to go numb. ‘Bathroom. NOW. Please…’ Why weren’t there more restrooms in this school? There should have been one beside every classroom. There should have been one every three feet. There should have been urinals installed right in the hallways… Didn’t the people who designed the building understand that sometimes a five minute walk was just WAY too much for a person’s bladder to handle?! He rounded the final corner, his overly tensed muscles beginning to slacken, his aching, stinging urethra starting to relax. He’d be peeing in a minute. Just one more minute. Then, he’d be free. 

He approached the door to the men’s room— Ohhhhh, yesss, finally!— And then his body tightened back up again painfully, one errant spurt of his burden squirting into his boxers as icy horror shot down his spine. 

There was a sign on the door. 

The restroom was out of order. 

So desperate that he had lost all ability to think and reason, he tried the doorknob anyway. He didn’t care if the room was flooded and disgusting, or anything. He just needed to get in there and PEE before he soaked the Hell out of his jeans and totally drenched the entire hallway. But, of course, the door wouldn’t open. It was locked. “Ahhh—! No… I can’t wait, I have to pee NOW— HAVE to—!” Avery moaned, stomping his feet, his fingers digging harshly against his crotch. He didn’t realize that his latest bout of begging hadn’t stayed inside his head. It did not hit him that he’d just spoken his pleas aloud until another guy whom had been intending to use that restroom turned to stare at him.

Avery turned beet red, realizing how obvious his problem must have been. But, he couldn’t do anything to try and make it LESS obvious. His hand stayed firmly between his legs, his hips kept grinding against them, his feet kept bouncing, his knees kept knocking. His bladder kept screeching and begging for the door to just magically swing open. 

The guy kept staring. “Um… You good?” he asked after a moment. Avery was so embarrassed. He was glad that he didn’t actually KNOW this guy, he couldn’t remember ever seeing him in one of his classes. He must have been in a different grade. 

“Ah—!” Avery choked out, trying to remember how to speak. Trying to remember what words even WERE. But he found that his vocabulary was now extremely limited. The only words he could recall were ‘Please, please, please, I need to pee so bad! I really, really have to go right now! I can’t hold it! I need the toilet!’ His pee-hole was practically vibrating with the effort of holding back his flood and he managed to squeak “No… I’m not.” 

“Are you… New here?” the guy asked. “That’s okay, I’ve only been here a month and it took me a while to find stuff too. But, there are other bathrooms, you know… Need me to show you where they are?”

Avery wasn’t new here. He was aware of the locations of all the toilets in the school. He just did NOT think he could make it to a different restroom in time. He was almost positive that he COULDN’T do it. The school had multiple floors. Each floor had one set of restrooms. To get to a different restroom, Avery would need to go either up or down a flight of stairs. He would totally EXPLODE if he tried to do that right now. 

He’d been just about to lose it when he’d made it to THIS restroom, and was now running on a whole lot of borrowed time. He was going to have an accident. He just wished this other guy would vacate the hallway so that he could have a little bit of privacy to do that. He was so furious with himself. If he’d just worked up the nerve to tell someone that he needed to go at ANY point today, then he would have had PLENTY of time to find a functional restroom before he burst. 

When Avery didn’t say anything, the guy just nodded at him. “I’ll show you,” he decided. “Come on.” 

Avery managed to nod and forced himself to follow along after the other guy. Since he’d stood in one place outside the bathroom door for so long, his bladder was given a very rude awakening when he started walking again. The urine contained within it thrashed and pounded against the walls of its prison, protesting the fact that he was walking AWAY from the restroom. ‘You can do this,’ he told himself. ‘Left foot, right foot. Don’t pee. Left foot, right foot. Don’t pee…’ 

But, he DID pee. Not a lot. He was stunned, but he still hadn’t drenched himself. However, even if he was managing to hold back the hissing, gushing torrent of a stream that was begging him for permission to come out, he was completely unable to stop dribbling. Every step brought forth a drip. ‘I can’t hold it…’ he thought miserably. ‘I can’t… It’s too much. It’s impossible. I can’t do it. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… I’m gonna pee…’ 

Avery couldn’t look up. He just kept staring at the shoes of the guy ahead of him, and at his own knotted, coiled legs. His feet were pointed towards each other, his knees rubbing together with each tiny, pained step. 'I'm gonna pee, I'm gonna pee, I'm gonna pee!' Avery continued to chant to himself in his mind, miserably. The situation felt utterly hopeless to him. He was going to have an accident. Any second now, his pants would be soaked, utterly saturated in the liquid he'd been fighting so hard to contain within himself. 'I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait!' He wasn't sure how long he'd been enduring this. It felt like he'd been holding it for days on end when they stopped at the bottom of a staircase. 

He felt slightly better now that his bladder wasn't being ricocheted all around his abdomen and clobbered harshly against the walls of his body, but the relief he felt when he stopped walking for a second couldn’t last long. He still had to get up the stairs now, after all. He knew that the restroom was RIGHT at the top of the staircase. As soon as he got up to the next floor, the bathroom would literally be RIGHT there in front of him and he’d only have to hurry forward a few more steps. Then, he’d be inside the restroom, and he’d just have to turn to the left, take four more steps, and he’d be at a urinal. Under normal circumstances, all of that would only take him about two minutes to accomplish. 

His current circumstances were far from being normal though. At this point ‘I have to pee really, really bad’ didn’t even do justice to how Avery felt. He felt wildly out of control, pressure assaulting every corner of his body. He no longer felt it just in his bladder anymore. There was pressure in his head, in all his limbs, in his chest… Every body part he had was screaming, demanding that Avery’s flood be sprayed forth right that very second. 

“It’s right up the stairs,” the other guy said. “Come on, it’s really close.” 

Avery already knew that of course. But, weirdly, hearing this guy TELL him that a bathroom was nearby was a bit reassuring. ‘It’s really close,’ Avery repeated to himself. ‘It’s really, really close. Hold it.’ His bladder squeezed in on itself, forcing a two-second long jet of urine into his boxers as if to whine ‘But I don’t WANNA hold it!’ 

“Come on,” the guy repeated, starting up the stairs. 

Avery hesitantly followed. He put one foot onto the first step, and— 

‘Holy SHIT!’

A massive, painful jolt shuddered up his leg and slammed full-force against his bladder, shaking it and shaking it and forcing another leak to drizzle out of him. “Nnnnh…” Avery cringed. He looked up to the other student, whom was already half-way up the stairs. He was suddenly hit with the terrible image of himself flooding his pants right where he stood with this guy staring at him. It terrified him, particularly because of how likely he thought it was to come true. 

‘Run,’ he ordered himself. ‘Move as fast as you can.’ It was his only hope, he decided. Grinding his thighs together, he forced himself to speed up, every new step making the awful, heinous, ripping feeling in his middle intensify. Near the top of the staircase, he froze, hands pressing even tighter against himself, his bladder seizing, shivering and feeling as though it was being stretched and pulled in all directions. 

Avery was dying. He had never needed ANYTHING this badly before in his entire life. He had no idea how the piss wasn’t already spraying out of him. He begged and he pleaded with God and the universe to bring an end to his suffering, to somehow teleport him in front of a urinal right the Hell now. But neither God nor the universe showed him any mercy. There was no hope, only burning painful agony and white hot, never-ending desperation. 

He slowly raised his head, looked up, and was barely able to see the door to the restroom through the sheet of tears obscuring his vision. Avery took a few more seconds to understand. The only thing his brain could process was his desire, his want, his NEED to take a massive, forceful, gushing piss. Then, the realization sunk in. He was nearly there. Just a few more steps. The sudden, intense, painful surge slowly ebbed away and he dragged himself forward. 

The other guy had paused at the door to wait for him, “Here we are—“ he started to say, when Avery flung the door open and rushed inside. He could feel more leaks and dribbles rolling down his legs, and hoped that he hadn’t left a mark on his pants. He knew that he probably had, but he’d deal with that in a minute. All that mattered now was he was IN a bathroom, and there was a row of urinals RIGHT there, and he just needed to take a few more steps. He just needed to unbutton his jeans. He just needed to get his zipper down. He just needed to free the head of his prosthetic. He just needed to aim. He just needed to relax. He just needed to pee. Oh, God, he just needed to PEE. 

… 

… 

Hsssssssss….

… 

… 

“Ahhhh…. Yesssssss…” 

He was doing it! He’d made it! His zipper was down, the flaps of his jeans were open, he was aimed, and he was peeing! He was peeing and peeing and peeing, and holy fuck did it feel good… His expression glazed over completely, his vision still blurred from his tears, becoming even foggier as a cloud of relief fell over him. Urine was pouring out of him so quickly that he needed to lean forward to help his STP drain it all out fast enough that it didn’t just overflow. 

When he did that, he remembered that he wasn’t alone, and his usual anxious thoughts appeared once more. What if that guy thought he was standing weird? The logical part of his brain told him that that was a completely ridiculous thing to worry about, no one was going to scrutinize another guy’s peeing stance, but the fearful part of his brain insisted that every person on Earth seriously paid a lot of really close attention to how other people looked while they peed.

Logic finally won out when Avery saw the guy take the urinal at the other end of the row. Of course he wasn’t watching Avery go. Of course he was only concerned with taking care of his own need. Which was all that Avery SHOULD have been focusing on as well; Relieving himself after so much time spent waiting and enduring felt so, so wonderful. He should have just been enjoying it, not stressing himself out over stupid things. 

So, that’s what he tried to do. He did his best to push his worries from his mind and just concentrate on how good it felt to let go of all this urine. Because, it did feel really, really good. Alarmingly however, even though he was currently in the process of voiding his bladder, he still felt a bit of that stinging pressure inside his body. Like he’d been so full that even now that he was letting it out, it still kind of felt like he was holding it; He’d definitely waited WAY too long this time, and he hoped he hadn’t hurt something. 

That feeling went away after a few more seconds, at least. There was a brief moment where he felt an utterly glorious sensation of something inside him deflating, and then ALL he could feel was the release. All he could feel was the pee gushing its way out of him. No more pressure, no more stinging, no more pain… Nothing but absolutely orgasmic relief. Another pleased groan fell from his lips, “Haaaahhhh…” 

Avery knew that this was weird, but he liked being able to see his pee flow down into the urinal. It felt good to watch it trickle from the tip of his cock. It felt nice to adjust his aim slightly and watch it shoot in a different direction. He knew that all of that was strange, and he’d thought that eventually the novelty would wear off once he’d been able to go standing up for a while, but it hadn’t yet. It was still fun, and it still made him feel extra good. 

Especially when he’d been ready to explode like he had been this time. Not only did letting it flow after a bout of prolonged, desperate restraint put Avery into a state of bliss, but being able to watch as a huge, forceful geyser of piss erupted out of his dick and loudly splattered the porcelain urinal made him feel amazing in a way he didn’t really know how to describe. 

Avery heard the other guy zip his pants back up and noted with some alarm that HE still didn’t feel close to done. That guy had started urinating AFTER him and had still finished up before Avery’s own bladder had dried out. Avery had been so desperate to do this that he shouldn’t have been shocked there had been THIS much pee locked away inside his body, but nevertheless it was still a little startling. Again, he worried that he may have hurt himself. 

Finally, FINALLY his pee started to taper off. He was no longer spraying like a firehose, but more like a shower head. Then, more like a leaky faucet. And then, he was merely dribbling. He shook out his prosthetic, tucked it back into his jeans and zipped them before flushing the urinal. He took a few shaky steps backwards. 

His legs felt like cold gelatin and it was almost like he was re-learning how to walk. He made it to the sinks and looked at himself in the mirror. He was bright pink, and his cheeks were still tear streaked. He splashed some water onto his face as he washed his hands and tried to even out his breathing. “Oh my God…” he mumbled to his reflection. That had been close. That had been REALLY freaking close… Just to make sure, he looked down at his pants. There was a little damp spot over his crotch, but considering how many leaks he’d felt himself have, he considered himself lucky that that was all that was visible. 

A part of him felt a sense of triumph; That was, without a doubt, one of the worst piss emergencies Avery had ever suffered through in his life. And, in the end, he’d MADE IT in time. That took strength. 

But, the rest of him felt ashamed. Ultimately, the main reason he’d found himself in that situation— the main reason he’d NEEDED the toilet that badly to begin with—was because once again he’d been too afraid to simply talk to someone, and voice his needs to them. He KNEW that he could have simply said “Please, excuse me for a minute, I need to use the restroom really fast” at any point today and then he would have been able to go have a pee before his agony reached such a fevered pitch. But, he hadn’t. He hadn’t been able to find his voice and just do it… And, THAT wasn’t strength at all. 

Avery knew that this wasn’t good. He’d had NO reason to have so much trouble asking someone if he could please go take a quick toilet break. He’d MADE himself hold it until he was in so much pain that he was crying and had barely managed to get to a urinal without peeing in his pants, and he’d done that for no good reason. 

As he made his way to the door, he realized he felt sore in his middle. Very, VERY sore, in fact. He felt like his lower stomach had been kicked about five hundred times. He opened the door and stepped out. That guy was waiting beside it. “Jeez, dude. Holy SHIT,” he said. “Are you, like, okay? Do I have to take you to the nurse?” 

Avery tugged at his cap, trying to pull it down so that it shielded his face more. He was awfully embarrassed that this guy he didn’t even KNOW had stuck around to check on him. And, he was a little frightened that he’d apparently just pissed out such an immense quantity of urine that it was enough to make the guy think he needed medical attention… 

DID he need medical attention? He’d certainly been in a LOT of pain, and he was STILL sore… 

“N—No,” Avery stuttered softly. “I’m fine now. Just needed to go kinda bad, that’s all.” 

The guy raised a brow at the word ‘kinda’, but didn’t push it. “Okay. If you’re sure,” he said, walking off. 

Avery stood there a moment longer. He felt a silly bit of reluctance to walk away from the bathroom now, like a part of him was terrified his bladder would spontaneously refill itself and he’d be in the same awful spot he’d been in several minutes ago. He rubbed a shaking hand over his still aching middle as he finally started to walk back down the stairs. The staircase no longer seemed like a medieval torture device to Avery now that he wasn’t trying to drag his bladder over each step. Stairs were easy now. Everything was easy now. He could breathe as deeply as he wanted, he could walk in a straight line, he could stand upright all the way… He’d honestly forgotten how simple these things all were when he wasn’t on the verge of wetting his pants. 

He hurried back to class. He knew he’d been gone a lot longer than he should have been and hoped he wasn’t in trouble for it. When he opened the door to the classroom, everyone was quietly reading and Ms. Johnson was at her desk. He expected her to call him over and ask what had taken him so long, but she didn’t. 

As he walked back to his desk, he kept a hand over the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide the wet spot that would make it obvious to everyone how close a call he’d just had. 

Lydia looked over as he sat down and smiled at him. She knew better than to say it, but she’d actually kinda expected him to come back to class wearing different pants following a very shameful visit to the nurse’s office. “You okay now?” she asked him in a whisper. 

“Better,” Avery said, blushing. 

Lydia wanted to say something else. She wanted to ask him why he’d had so much trouble asking for what he needed, why he’d needed HER to do it for him… But, she stayed quiet on the matter. She wouldn’t force him to talk to her about this, but she hoped he would… 

By the time class ended, Avery had to go again. This wasn’t too big of a surprise. His bladder and holding muscles must have been completely worn out after all that. As he and Lydia headed to the exit of the school, they passed by a set of restrooms, and Avery stopped. ‘Come on, don’t make her wait for you,’ that scolding voice in Avery’s head whispered. ‘You can hold it until you get home.’ 

Avery thought about the things the guidance counsellor had said about his ‘negative internal voice’, and how he needed to stop listening to it. He thought about all the trouble that his negative internal voice had already caused him today… “Lydia… Um… Hold on… I’ve gotta go before we leave, okay?” He gestured to the restroom. 

Lydia felt a weird sense of calm from his words, relieved that he’d been able to make himself say them. “No problem,” she said. “I’ll wait for you.”

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(Warning for transphobia and bullying.) 

Avery couldn’t believe that his school had authorized a literal kissing booth at their annual carnival. His school, where he’d once been yelled at for violating the ‘public displays of affection’ rule after holding Lydia’s wrist to help her keep a compass steady in art class, had allowed an actual, honest to God kissing booth. 

He also couldn’t believe that he’d been tasked with collecting the money people paid for admission. He felt so awkward watching his classmates exchange meaningless kisses with each other like that. Avery had never been kissed before himself. Sometimes he felt bad about that. At his age, he thought he really should have had his first kiss by now, and occasionally he worried there must have been something wrong with him since it hadn’t happened yet. But, he didn’t think he’d spend money to find out what a kiss felt like. He was pretty sure that if he ‘bought’ a kiss here, whatever he ended up feeling wouldn’t be what he was looking for. The three girls and one guy at the booth were all people he barely knew. 

Avery also could not believe how late Liam Tracy was. Liam was supposed to have shown up over two hours ago to take over Avery’s position so he could have a break. A very, very badly needed break. Because, above all else, Avery definitely couldn’t believe how full his bladder was right now. His legs had been tied in a double-crossed knot for the last thirty minutes and he was jiggling around so much he was probably producing enough nervous energy to power a small town. 

The exact placement of the kissing booth had made Avery’s situation a lot worse. It was directly next to a booth that housed a game where players aimed squirt guns and tried to fill up water balloons faster than one another. And, Avery had learned that that booth was very popular. He hadn’t been able to escape the sound of gushing, spraying, drizzling water for longer than two minutes all day. 

And then, right across from the kissing booth, was one of the school’s buildings. The door to the men’s room was clearly visible from Avery’s position and for hours he’d been forced to stand there, getting fuller and fuller, listening to running water, and watching other guys go in and out of that bathroom to do the thing he was absolutely DYING to do. 

Avery was pretty sure this must have been what Purgatory was like. 

He tapped his foot, uncrossed his legs, crossed them back the other way… Ohh, where the Hell was Liam? Knowing Liam— which, unfortunately Avery did a little too well— he had probably just ditched altogether and wasn’t going to show up at all. Hell, considering how intent he always was on making sure Avery knew how much he hated him, maybe Liam had even predicted that Avery would end up needing to take a leak extremely badly and wanted to prolong his agony as much as possible. 

Because, if there was one thing Avery was feeling now, it was definitely agony. He’d actually never felt anything like this before in his life. He’d had to use the restroom super urgently loads of times, sure, but he’d never had it reach such a height before. The pain was moving up his sides now, all of his nerve-endings screaming from the unbearable need to just let everything flow. 

He didn’t realize a line had formed for the booth until someone tapped his shoulder, prompting him to jump and let loose a squirt of pee into his boxers. “Ah—!” he gasped. 

“Dude,” the guy said, staring at him and waving a dollar bill in his face. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up.”
Avery had to pee so badly he actually FELT like he might throw up. ‘No!’ he wanted to cry. ‘I’m NOT okay! I need the bathroom RIGHT NOW!’ But, he held his tongue along with his bladder and just started accepting payment from everyone that was waiting in line. It was hard to count the bills when he couldn’t keep a single thought in his head for longer than a millisecond. And, he noticed more than a few people giving him strange looks as he found himself totally unable to stop performing his pee dance. 

‘I can’t take it anymore,’ Avery thought, feeling more trickles and gushes spurting between his thighs. His pupils were bouncing around in all directions, a look of pure panic on his face. All he could see was the line of people, and the jets of water spraying from the guns in the booth next to his, and the restrooms that were so, SO close but that he wasn’t allowed to go into! And… And the grass at his feet! Ohh, it would feel so good to just turn around, unzip and let it out! He was gripped by the maddening fantasy of yanking his zip down and spraying a tidal wave of piss into the grass in full view of everyone. At least that would be better than peeing his pants! 

But, he’d get into a world of trouble if he did that at a school function. He could even be expelled for it. He couldn’t… He couldn’t pee… But, he couldn’t hold it, either. It was coming out! His leaks and dribbles had failed to stop, and he wanted to tear his hair out! 

“Do you have to take a leak or something?” the next guy in line asked. 

Avery tried to laugh, but it came out more like an anguished cry, and his bladder spasmed so much that his next leak was forceful enough to be audible. “Y—Yes…” he said. “Um… Could you maybe take my place here while I—“ 

“Nope,” the guy said. 

Avery wanted to beg him, but he moved on too fast for Avery to say anything else. But, he thought, getting someone to cover for him was a good idea. He shakily drew his phone from his pocket and sent a text to Lydia. 

‘LYDIA. HELP. LIAM HASN’T SHOWN UP AND I NEED A BREAK SUPER BAD.’ 

He hoped she wouldn’t ask why he needed a break so much. He hoped she’d assume he was just tired, not that he was on the verge of pissing himself. Most of all though, he hoped she hurried! 

As Avery waited for his friend to arrive, he continued taking money, he continued dancing, he continued fighting back tears along with the massive tide of pee he was containing. One of the teachers who had been involved in organizing the carnival came over after a few more minutes of Avery’s endless, urgent squirming. She asked him how things were going at the booth. 

“TheBooth’sFineButTheNextGuyNeverShowedUpAndINeedToPeeReallyBad!” Avery rushed out all in one breath, his words slurring into one another. It was painful just to breathe now. The simple act of sucking air into his lungs was enough to squish the walls of his bladder and make him lose even more drops. 

The teacher just looked at him. “Um, what?” 

“My—My replacement. Liam Tracy. He was supposed to be here hours ago, but he never came, and I— I really, really can’t stand here anymore,” Avery said, curling over on himself and clawing his nails into his knees. 

“Just give him a few more minutes,” the teacher said. 

Avery did not HAVE a few more minutes, “I—I need to go to the restroom.” 

“Just a couple more minutes.”

Lydia at last showed up. Avery cringed, letting go of his knees so he could try to pull his hat down to cover more of his face when he noticed Lydia staring at his pathetic display. He didn’t think it would ever get less embarrassing to have Lydia see him like this… 

“Avery…” Lydia said. “Are you—“ 

“No, I’m not okay,” Avery whispered to her harshly. But, it wasn’t much a whisper. More of a gravelly hiss, and it came out much too loud. “I’m about to pee my pants.” Really, he’d already BEGUN to pee his pants, he just didn’t want to admit that to Lydia. He didn’t dare look down at his jeans to examine the wet patches he was sure had formed by now. 

“Um,” Lydia looked to the teacher. “Could I take over for Avery while he uses the bathroom? He really, really has to go.” 

Avery blushed at the emphasis she’d added in regards to the severity of his need, but hoped it would at least make it more likely he’d be granted a break. 

“Okay,” the teacher said. “But, hurry back Avery.” 

Avery’s bladder felt so full to bursting that he thought it would take him several minutes to finish peeing, but he nodded and started to rush off. Except, that wasn’t easy. Having been stood in the same place for so many hours, his legs weren’t really in the mood to break into a run like that. And, his bladder definitely wasn’t. His leaks picked up speed as he tried to run and after a few more steps, he was no longer running. He was walking with his legs crossed. Hobbling, more like it. He was dragging himself to the restroom door as fast as his bloated body would allow, but it was so hard, and he had to go so bad, and everything just… hurt so much. ‘Hold it,’ he begged his bladder. ‘Please, keep it in a few more minutes’. 

He made it to the restroom door and placed his hand against it. He was going to pee soon, and it was going to feel so wonderful… Just as he was about to push against the door, it swung open, and there was Liam. Avery wanted to yell at him, demand to know where he’d been all this time, but Liam frightened him. Liam was so big, all muscle, and Avery already knew what he could use those muscles for, so he knew better than to provoke him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Liam asked, blocking Avery’s entrance to the restroom he so badly needed. 

Avery cringed and squirmed, he could see into the restroom now, could see the row of vacant urinals ready for his use. “I need to pee,” he managed to squeak out… Oh, God, why did his voice always have to go so high when he was scared? 

“Did you miss the sign on the door?” Liam said. 

‘Not this again…’ Avery thought. ‘Please, not now. Not when I need to go THIS bad…’ He felt his skin prickle and his bladder convulse as he remembered a previous encounter with Liam in one of the school toilets that had ended in a bloodied lip and a dislocated shoulder. “Yeah, I saw it.” He hadn’t ceased his needy wriggling even under Liam’s gaze. He hadn’t stopped dripping out little drops of pee, either. 

“Then you know you don’t belong in there,” Liam said. “Go use the girls’.” 

Uncle Brad had told Avery he needed to assert himself. He couldn’t let people treat him badly, he didn’t have to accept it. But, standing up for himself was frightening, especially when he knew the other person could easily knock him out with a single punch. “I—I’m not a girl…” Avery said. His heart was thudding so much in his ears, his bladder was searing. He was trying so, so hard not to cry. 

“You sure sound like one,” Liam informed, not budging. 

“Please, I just—“ Avery stopped himself. His voice was going so high from the fear and the urgent need to void himself… Liam was right, he did sound like a girl, how could he ever expect to be taken seriously? He was so stupid… ‘Stand up for yourself,’ he thought. ‘You just have to use the toilet. And that’s not harming anyone.’ He straightened his throat as best he could and said “I— I’ll pee on your shoes if you don’t move!” Where the Hell had THAT come from?! 

Liam was clearly shocked by Avery’s words. Normally, Avery just went silent when Liam laid into him. Normally, Avery rolled over and took it. After getting over the initial shock of the moment, Liam was overcome by anger. How dare he? How freaking dare he? Liam was not about to be disrespected, especially not by the likes of Avery. His fist flew out to slam into Avery’s gut. “The fuck is wrong with you, freak?” 

Avery doubled over in pain. This was one of the worst feelings he’d ever experienced. White hot agony instantly flared through his stomach, and he retched as he thought he was about to barf. His bladder crumpled in on itself like a ball of paper being crushed in someone’s hand. His urethra felt like it was on fire. In addition, waves of shame poured onto him. He’d tried to stand up for himself, he’d tried to be assertive, he really had tried, but it had gotten him nowhere… “Pl—Please,” Avery said. “I really, really have to go. Just let me use the bathroom, please?” 

Liam just laughed. “Looks like it’s too late for that,” he said. 

Avery suddenly became aware of a warm feeling seeping into his socks… And it went all the way up his legs and around his crotch. He was going. No more leaks. No more dribbles. No more spurts. This was a stream; A violent, torrential stream pouring away from his completely burst bladder. He was GOING. But, he was so full of piss that it still felt as though he was holding it. There was no relief, no drop in the pressure, just the sticky, wet heat and the knowledge that he was wetting his pants in public. 

He barely reacted. Just stood there in shocked silence as his bladder continued unceremoniously dumping itself into his clothes without his permission. Liam kept laughing, and Avery was sure he was deliberately doing so as loudly as he could to make sure more people looked over and saw how Avery was having an accident. People were looking. They were staring. Avery tried to pull his hat down to shield himself, then ran off. He still hadn’t finished peeing, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stay there anymore. 

He eventually found himself crouched under one of the picnic tables, trying to hide. His bladder was finally empty, but there was no relief in that. In fact, he felt so horrifically sore in his center that he was in just as much pain now as he’d been when he was still holding it. Now that he was hidden away from everyone, he buried his face against his knees and let himself start crying. 

His phone buzzed with a text from Lydia. 

WHERE ARE YOU? 

Avery replied to her that he was at the picnic tables and wasn’t planning to come back out until everyone else had gone home. 

Lydia was there a few minutes later. “Avery?” she called, not seeing him right away. 

Reluctantly, Avery dragged himself out from under the table. He felt so ashamed, so repulsive. 

Lydia looked at his damp pants and tear streaked face. She said nothing. She could see panic flash across Avery’s face when she remained silent for so long, but she so wanted to make sure that her next words were the right ones. “It’s… Okay,” she said. “Take off your jacket and tie it around your waist, go home, try to forget about it. You just got stuck waiting for too long, this is Liam’s fault for—“ 

Avery interrupted her with a bitter laugh, “It sure is.” 

“Yes, he should have showed up when he was supposed t—“ 

“I was going to… To make it,” Avery said softly, boiling hot embarrassment flowing through his veins as he put his jacket around himself. “But, Liam was there and he wouldn’t let me into the bathroom. I… I tried to stand up to him, and then he punched me really hard in the stomach, and I just—“ The tears returned. 

Lydia held him and let him cry. “That’s horrible,” she said. “You should report him to the principal. He assaulted you.” 

Avery shook his head back and forth against Lydia’s shoulder. The idea of telling the principal that someone had made him wet his pants… “I can’t…” 

“Someone else took over the booth,” Lydia said, deciding not to push it. “I can walk you home if you want.” 

Avery did want that. He felt so embarrassed walking next to her with his pants covered in urine, but somehow he thought he’d feel even worse if he was walking alone.

*** 

“He did what to you?” Uncle Brad snapped, dropping his fork and letting it clatter to the table. 

Avery shrank back. He should have known not to bring it up, but Uncle Brad had caught him coming back up from the laundry room carrying just a single pair of pants and asked what had happened. Avery kept brushing it off all the way up until dinner when Uncle Brad demanded an answer. 

Avery had been unable to think of an excuse and had been forced to admit that he’d had an accident. “But—But it wasn’t my fault!” He stammered, trying to assuage some of the embarrassment he felt. “I held it all day and then when I tried to use the bathroom, Liam wouldn’t let me and punched me real hard in the stomach, and I—“

And then Uncle Brad had interrupted him, expressing outrage. “This is ridiculous, your school can’t keep allowing these things.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Avery insisted softly. “It was my fault. When I saw Liam there I should have gone to a different bathroom, or just found a tree, or—“ 

“This is NOT your fault,” Uncle Brad said. He stared at Avery. His heart clenched. He had never seen anyone so determined to blame themselves and accept abuse. The fact that Brad knew his own brother was at least partially responsible for Avery’s non-existent self-esteem was absolutely gut-wrenching. “I’m calling the principal tomorrow.” 

“No!” Avery begged. “Don’t!” Last time Uncle Brad had gone to the principal about Liam, Liam had just been suspended for a few days and when he came back he was worse to Avery than ever! “Please? Don’t do this to me!” 

“I’M not doing anything to you!” Uncle Brad said. “This can’t be allowed to continue. This isn’t even the first time this boy has assaulted you just for trying to use the bathroom. Last time he dislocated your shoulder, this time he’s humiliated you. It has to stop. This boy is guilty of a hate crime.” 

“It’s not THAT serious,” Avery said. “I’ll just… I’ll stay out of his way, and it will stop.” 

“Avery…” Uncle Brad said, voice softening. “It IS serious, it’s VERY serious. You can’t spend your entire life hiding from people and letting them get away with hurting you. That’s no way to live. I spend a lot of money sending you to that school so you can have a good education, and the LEAST they could do is make sure you can use the toilet safely.” 

“I CAN do that,” Avery said. “Most of the time… Just—“ 

“You should be able to do that ALL of the time,” Uncle Brad said. It hurt him so badly that Avery seemed to think the ability to relieve his bladder was something he had to earn and that others were allowed to take away from him. 

When Avery first came to live with him, Brad had spent several days showing him all around the big city. Avery had grown up in a small town in the middle of nowhere, so life in New York City was going to be a big adjustment. Brad had loved how amazed and star-struck Avery looked as he explored the city and discovered new things. Brad had assumed all the shaking and squirming Avery did in the latter half of each day was just him shivering because he was unused to how cold Winters were in the Northern states. 

It never occurred to Brad how Avery never asked for a toilet break, even though they’d be out from early in the morning until the sun began to go down. Brad didn’t notice how Avery never followed him into the bathroom when he stopped for a pee himself. Brad didn’t realize that Avery was so scared of public restrooms that he was forcing himself to hold it from sunrise to sunset every single day. Until one day, Avery was in tears because it hurt him so badly to pee and shortly after that, the doctor diagnosed him with a urinary tract infection. 

Avery had broken down then, explained that he’d been holding it all the time and that he always needed to go really badly, but was too afraid to use public bathrooms. His uncle held him and asked why he’d never said anything. 

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Avery had said. “I’ve already caused you trouble, making you buy food for me and take me places…” 

“It’s not a bother at all,” Uncle Brad had told him. “I love you. I want to take care of you. Would you feel better if I went into the restroom with you?” 

Avery had shrugged. “I don’t want to make people uncomfortable.”

What Avery really wanted to do was repeat one of the things he’d been told by the phony doctors at conversion therapy; “I don’t blame you any more than I would blame someone with Cancer. Society has fed your generation so many toxic ideas about gender, that it's only natural some of you would stray off the correct path. But that doesn't mean you aren't dangerous. It doesn't mean you shouldn't be dealt with. You are an affront to God, you invade spaces meant for actual men, and you poison society by your simple presence.” Avery wanted to recite that, and ask Uncle Brad if it was true. If he was invading someone else’s space and harming society when he peed in men’s restrooms. The first few times the ‘doctors’ had told him that, Avery had thought they were full of shit. But, when they kept saying it over and over and over… He’d started to believe there must have been truth to it. 

But, Avery hadn’t been able to say any of that. He hadn’t been able to force his mouth to form the words that had been drilled into him over and over again. So, instead he’d just said “I can just hold it. It’s fine.” 

“Avery, you CAN’T hold it all day every day,” Uncle Brad said. “You’re hurting yourself by doing this.” He’d then ruffled Avery’s hair. “I… I don’t understand everything that you’ve been through and everything that you ARE going through, but I love you. You’re just a person, Avery. And all people need to pee. Please, let me make that a little easier for you?” 

Avery had eventually agreed that having someone he trusted in the room with him would help. But, going forward he was still reluctant about saying when he had to go. He now not only felt like he was harming people and invading their space by entering a restroom, but inconveniencing his uncle too by needing him to come with him. 

Uncle Brad had ended up needing to pay a lot of attention to Avery for signs that he needed the toilet, like he would to a young kid. Crossed legs, anxious tugs at his hat, lingering a little too long whenever they passed a restroom… When Avery started to do these things, Brad would have to discreetly ask him if he needed to go. To his credit, Avery never denied it, instead he just seemed extremely relieved that he’d been asked and didn’t have to bring it up himself. But, he apologized profusely every time. “Yes! I need to go SO bad!” he’d say. “I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to drink so much, and I tried to wait. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll drink less now. I’m sorry.” 

No matter how many times Brad reassured him that it was okay and he didn’t mind at all, Avery’s frantic apologies and promises to stop being such a burden never ceased. And, once he’d brought Avery to the restroom, he couldn’t help but continue feeling concerned. The very first time, Avery had run to a stall like he was being chased by a swarm of angry hornets, and initially Brad thought he was trying to avoid being noticed by anyone, but then he’d seen the way Avery’s feet danced back and forth beneath the bottom of the door, and a few seconds later he heard Avery’s stream hiss violently and carry on for so, so long… He knew Avery wasn’t just getting scared and trying to get in and out as fast as possible; Avery was also still forcing himself to hold it in until it was hurting him.

So, Brad had changed his strategy. Every couple hours, he’d say “Avery, I’m gonna go use the restroom, do you have to go too?” 

And, when he did this, Avery would simply nod and come with him. No apologizing. No assurances that he’d ‘do better’. And, he did it frequently enough that Avery didn’t suffer any desperation. Instead of running into a stall and unleashing a minute and a half long torrent, he’d be able to walk in calmly and his bladder would be empty in just thirty seconds. The problem was solved, but at the same time Brad worried that needing to be escorted to and from the restroom like a little kid was not going to help with Avery’s already terminally low self esteem. 

A while later, Avery came home from a day out with his friend Lydia. He looked shaken up about something, so Brad asked what was wrong. Avery explained that he’d needed to pee very, very badly while he’d been out, and had been terrified to relieve himself without Brad there to protect him if something bad happened. Eventually though, Avery said he’d started to have an accident and had had no choice but to hurry to the restroom in order to avoid making a puddle. He explained how stressful it had been, that even though he’d been so desperate to pee that he was dripping in his pants, he’d had a little trouble relaxing enough to actually do it once he was on the toilet. He added how scared he’d been that someone was going to notice he was sitting down to pee and think that it was weird. 

“Lots of men sit to pee sometimes,” Uncle Brad had told him. “Some prefer it.” 

“I guess…” Avery said. “I just… Wish I didn’t HAVE to, you know? I want to have a choice like everyone else does. I know it’s dumb to care so much about this, but it makes me uncomfortable. It always has.” Avery could remember an incident that happened when he was much younger, where he’d tried to pee standing up at a movie theater and had gotten it all down his legs instead of into the toilet. He’d cried a lot that day and had felt so stupid, struggling to understand himself and why he had all of these weird thoughts and feelings that no one else seemed to have. 

The day after that, Avery told Brad that he’d ordered something online so he could go standing up easily. “Just, if it gets delivered and I’m not here, don’t open it, okay? Because it looks like a… Well, you know. And I don’t think you really want to see it.” 

Brad had noticed a marked improvement in Avery’s confidence since he’d gotten that item. He was willing to go into public bathrooms alone when the two of them were out now, at least. And Avery looked much more comfortable just in general a lot of the time. Obviously, it WAS helping him feel better and more at home in his body… But, Avery being able to pee how he wanted to, feeling somewhat less scared by public restrooms, and being more comfortable in his skin didn’t do anything to change Liam. 

“I have to tell your principal,” Uncle Brad repeated. “You deserve to be able to… To pee when you have to go. That’s a basic human right.” 

Avery nodded. Sometimes, against his will, he’d replay moments from his past in his mind. The voices and insults would come to him like crystal clear audio recordings, and then he’d feel like he didn’t deserve to be called a human, and so definitely didn’t deserve to have any basic human rights. It was hard to get rid of those thoughts when they’d embedded themselves so deeply into his skin. It wasn’t easy reminding himself that he counted as a person just as much as anyone else. The memories and the hurt were stuck to his brain now, like they’d been tattooed there.

Ms. Wren the guidance counsellor had told him that the last couple years of Avery’s life, the torment that followed him after he made the mistake of coming out to his parents, had left him traumatized. And this was the reason for his intrusive and upsetting thoughts, frequent nightmares, and hypersensitivity to the reactions of other people. “I’m not qualified to make a diagnosis,” she had said. “But, you are demonstrating a lot of very concerning thought patterns. I would really recommend you speak to someone else about the possibility that you may be dealing with PTSD. There are resources that can help you.”

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Avery was positive he couldn’t really have that. PTSD was what happened to war veterans, not to regular people like him. 

The next day, Uncle Brad called the principal of the school, and early in the morning Avery and Liam were both called to the office. Avery sat uncomfortably in his seat. He was uncomfortable for several reasons. One, he didn’t like being in the principal’s office even when he wasn’t in trouble. Two, he didn’t want to discuss this issue anymore and just wanted to forget about it and go back to staying out of Liam’s way. Three, Liam wouldn’t stop shooting him glares. And four, Avery had been just about to head to the restroom when his name was called over the intercom. He’d already been pretty eager to relieve himself as he’d walked towards the bathrooms, and now all the nervousness he was feeling was making him have to go a lot worse. 

He felt a great deal of panic now, his legs crossed at the ankles and he jiggled them up and down. He knew Liam was going to be furious with him after this, and if they were both dismissed from the office at the same time, it was inevitable that Liam would follow him. And, even if Liam didn’t do anything to him right away, Avery knew he’d start something if he tried to run straight for the toilet like he wanted to. 

Avery folded his arms across his chest and worried at his lip as he tried to look at anything but Liam. ‘Okay,’ he thought. ‘This sucks, but Liam isn’t in your next class. Just hold it until that one’s over and then you should be able to go without a problem.’ 

“Avery,” Principal Nelson began. “Calm down. You’re not in any trouble.” 

Avery didn’t stop fidgeting, because his fear of the principal was only a small part of why he was so antsy. 

“Liam,” Principal Nelson began. “I have been told that you assaulted Avery at the carnival, is this true?” 

“No,” Liam said. 

“Avery’s uncle says you punched him,” Principal Nelson said. “Why would he call me up first thing in the morning to lie?” 

“I was defending myself,” Liam said. 

Principal Nelson fell silent for a minute, looking between skinny Avery, just barely five feet tall and Liam, six and a half feet of muscle. “You were defending yourself,” he repeated. 

“Not to get all politically incorrect,” Liam said. “But, you can’t force me to be okay with having a girl in the bathroom with me. Because, how I see it is like, I’m in there trying to piss, and then all the sudden she’s there staring at my junk.” He gestured to Avery. “She’s always doing that, it’s creepy.”

“I’ve never… I’ve never done that…” Avery said quietly. He uncrossed his legs and jiggled in his chair, fingernails digging harshly into the armrests. He should have just peed really fast before coming here. Principal Nelson wouldn’t have been angry if he was a couple minutes late, right? Especially if Avery told him he’d just been busy relieving himself. He wished once again that he wasn’t always so scared of upsetting people. He wished once again that he wasn’t always so convinced that people were going to be mad at him for simple things that, realistically, they wouldn’t even care the slightest bit about. 

But, so many times, people really HAD gotten angry at Avery for things that shouldn’t have mattered. When he was little, they got mad because he cut his own hair short by himself, or refused to wear dresses, or always insisted on dressing as a boy for Halloween. Sometimes, people got extremely mad at him for things that they just made up inside their own heads. Like, when he came out at his old school and the principal THERE accused him of just wanting to watch the guys change before gym. Or, when he told his parents and they said he was just doing this to punish them and that he’d been corrupted by ‘Satanists’ on the Internet. Or, right now, when Liam was pretending he had any sort of interest in watching him in the bathroom. 

So, when Avery thought about it that way, it wasn’t so strange he was afraid of making people angry at him, because they often were, and for reasons that didn’t make much sense. His heart hadn’t stopped thrumming since Liam had made his accusation, Avery was scared now that Principal Nelson was going to believe him, he was going to believe Avery was a deviant pervert and that all of this was just an elaborate ruse to look at Liam’s junk. None of it would have any logic behind it, of course, but that hadn’t stopped people before. 

Principal Nelson would believe Liam and say Avery can’t go into the restrooms anymore. He tensed his thighs together at the thought, his need to pee taking center stage in his mind again. His legs coiled back around each other, his hands anxiously fluttering around his waist. “I really haven’t done that,” he emphasized. “I don’t know why he’d… Both the times I’ve been in the bathroom at the same time as him, he’s just hit me and stuff…” 

“I know that you’ve never done that,” Principal Nelson said, taking Avery by surprise. At his old school, the people in charge never took his side. Even if they’d stood right there and watched as someone beat him, they still told Avery he’d provoked it and that it was his own fault. 

Feeling that the principal here had his back made Avery feel a little more relaxed. Some of the tension began to ease away from his body… Maybe a little too much, though, because a second after the tightness knotting his back and shoulders went away, he felt a harsh weight against the exit of his bladder; Pee right at the very edge of coming out. He gripped onto his bouncing knees and squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs rubbed together, trying to keep the leak at bay. But, none of it was enough, a rush of heat bloomed between his legs as a tiny jet of urine squirted out. 

Finally, the spasm passed with no more leaks following the first. But, now that he’d let a teeny portion of the burden out, his urethra was burning with the need to release the rest of it. Principal Nelson was talking to Liam now; “Liam. You have been targeting Avery for months, singling him out specifically because he’s trans. I know for a fact that all he wanted to do that day was use the restroom just like anyone else, which he has the right to do…” 

Avery tried to tune him out. He was grateful that Nelson was defending him like this, but listening to someone talk about how he deserved to be allowed to pee while he was fighting so hard not to pee in his pants wasn’t easy. Principal Nelson was well known around school for his tendency to ramble on and on and on. Whenever he came on stage in the auditorium, everyone groaned because they knew they were going to be stuck for at least another half hour. 

Avery looked all around the room, trying to occupy his mind with something other than the constant, painful throbbing taking place inside his bladder. There were posters in Principal Nelson’s office… Some of those motivational ones that Avery only really ever saw in internet memes. 

The one behind the desk was of a huge waterfall that Avery could practically hear roaring. Even though it was just a photograph and didn’t move, Avery’s brain was playing tricks on him and making it seem as though the liquid was really pouring down and crashing against itself. His legs scissored themselves back and forth frantically as he imagined that his stream striking the urinal was probably going to look a lot like that waterfall. 

Below the photo of the waterfall was bold text reading ‘ENDURANCE’, and then some smaller text below it that Avery couldn’t quite see… Avery was certainly having his endurance tested right now… 

“She’s not supposed to be in there,” Liam was saying. “There are biological reasons for having separate bathrooms. If she can’t use a urinal, then she doesn’t belong in the men’s bathroom.” 

Avery chewed on his lip even more, beginning to taste the metallic tang of his blood. He didn’t understand why that mattered to Liam at all. Being able to pee in a urinal mattered to Avery because doing so made him feel more comfortable in his body. But that was the thing; It was HIS body, not Liam’s. So, why did HE care how Avery relieved himself? 

But, additionally, Avery felt like snapping at Liam that he actually COULD use a urinal, and he’d be MORE than happy to prove that to him right now. He did end up blurting the first part out, but managed to stop himself before offering to relieve his bladder in front of Liam. “I— Actually, I can do that…” He said, his voice getting softer and softer. He wasn’t only having a hard time talking because Liam was intimidating and was saying things that deeply hurt. He was also having a hard time talking because he swore he could feel his bladder swelling so much it was almost touching the back of his throat now. He seriously felt like he was going to vomit, and he wasn’t sure if the nerves or the desperation were more to blame for the sudden nausea. 

“Prove it,” Liam said. 

Avery was so dizzy and out of his mind with the need to empty himself out that his piss-addled brain instantly seized on this as an opportunity for relief and he got to his feet without even really realizing what he was doing. 

“That will not be necessary,” Principal Nelson interrupted. “Liam, I would really like to believe the students at this school possess a lot more maturity than what you’re showing to me now. How and where Avery urinates is no business of yours…” 

Principal Nelson kept talking and Avery found himself unable to sit back down in his chair. He’d started to rock back and forth on his feet and it was helping a great deal with his need. If he sat back down, he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore and he was now convinced that if he stopped his desperate, urgent hopping even for a second his bladder would crack wide open and piss would spray everywhere. He tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He stood up straight to try giving his bladder more room, then doubled over as it cramped inside of him. 

As Principal Nelson carried on and Liam kept arguing, Avery could no longer hear them. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as alarm bells rang up and down his entire body. He felt so frantic and out of control, and he wasn’t even sure when it had started, but he was leaking little spurts of pee every few seconds. 

“…a one week suspension, and a ban on after school functions. And you’re lucky that’s all you’re getting,” Principal Nelson was saying. “One more incident like this, and we’ll have to take more drastic measures.” He dismissed Liam. Once Liam had left, Nelson turned to Avery and his expression softened. “I’m very sorry that— Oh, please sit back down. No need to be so nervous.” 

Avery kept jiggling in his spot, his hips twisting. Now that Liam was gone he felt slightly more comfortable admitting to his need… But, not comfortable enough. Nelson was still the principal, and the thought of telling the principal he was about to wet his pants embarrassed him to no end. “I— Um… I—“ 

“Are you alright, Avery?” 

Avery was very far from alright. A lot of the things Liam had said, the constant misuse of pronouns, the idiotic accusations… They had cut him deeply, and he knew that once his bladder was no longer attempting to violently claw its way through his abdomen, the memories of everything Liam had said about him today were going to really start to sting. “I… I…” 

“Don’t let him get to you,” Nelson said. “I know a lot of people have hurt you, Avery. But, there are better ones out there, you just need to find them.” 

A long, long spurt of pee rolled down Avery’s leg. “Nnnhhh…” He’d been trying his best to find those ‘better’ people, but it seemed that for every person who was good to him, like Uncle Brad or Lydia or Principal Nelson, there were five more who were cruel. 

“Don’t cry,” Nelson said. “Try not to cry.” 

Avery blinked his eyes a few times, but didn’t feel tears. He may have been leaking a lot of liquid right now, but not from his eyes. “I’m… Not…I just—“ 

“You’re shaking,” Nelson said. “Do you need a few minutes? Take as much time as you need. If you need to talk to me about anything right now—“ 

“I— I need to go to the restroom,” Avery blurted out in a panic as yet another leak began to drizzle out of him. “Really bad.” 

“… Oh,” Nelson said. “I… Apologize. Were you called here before you could go?“ 

“…Yes,” Avery admitted, feeling himself start to blush all over. He really hadn’t meant to tell Nelson what he needed, but that last uncontainable spurt had just caused his mouth to work on its own. 

“I’m sorry,” Nelson reiterated, opening a drawer in his desk. “That must have made all that talk even harder for you… I didn’t realize… I thought you were just nervous and upset, otherwise I would have—“ 

“It’s an emergency,” Avery said, before clenching his jaw. Interrupting the principal was surely not something he should ever do! He just… Really couldn’t control his mouth when he needed the toilet this badly, could he? “Sorry,” he squeaked. He wished Nelson would finish talking to him so he could try to get to a bathroom before he completely lost it. Where was the closest one? He’d have to walk down two corridors… Oh, he hoped he could make that! 

“I understand,” Principal Nelson said. He retrieved something from the desk drawer. “When I was in school, I was called to the office once because someone had thrown a rock at one of the windows of the cafeteria. I hadn’t done it, but the lunch workers said they saw someone in a red jacket do it, and that’s what I had on that day, so they had to talk to me. The principal of my school had an awful habit of rambling and carrying on, and after a while I had the most atrocious need for the bathroom…” 

Avery tried his hardest not to listen and to somehow will Nelson into finishing his speech and telling him he could finally leave. After a few more minutes, a ferocious bolt of need pummeled into his bladder, hands-down the worst spasm he’d ever felt in his life, and what came out then wasn’t a leak, but a stream. It lasted for several seconds and when Avery managed to clamp it off he exclaimed “I’m wetting myself!!” unable to hold back the panicked admission any more than he could hold back his urine. He didn’t even have the energy left to feel embarrassed by what he’d said, or worried because he’d interrupted the principal again. There was absolutely nothing in his brain apart from the monotonous agonized litany of ‘I NEED TO PEE! I NEED TO PEE! I NEED TO PEE!’ 

“Oh!” Nelson said. “Sorry…” He then stepped out from around his desk, holding the object he’d taken from the drawer which Avery now recognized as a key. Nelson reached the door in the corner of the room which Avery thought was a supply closet. 

‘Oh, God, if he wants me to help him carry something…’ Avery thought with dread. 

But, when Nelson opened the door, instead of an assortment of junk, Avery saw a sink and a toilet. 

“Feel free t—“ 

Avery rushed into the room, hand already at his zip. He quickly shut the door behind himself as he tugged his zipper down noisily. He was grateful he’d been convinced this was a supply closet all through that meeting. If he’d been forced to endure it while knowing a toilet was THIS close to him he would have burst for sure. 

Avery was peeing violently before he could aim, his stream spattering the rim of the bowl before he corrected it. Pee loudly slammed into the water as it exploded from Avery’s body. “Haaahhh…. Haahhhh….” Avery struggled to catch his breath. He hadn’t realized how choppy and short his breathing had gotten while he’d still been holding on, and now he felt a tad light-headed. He tried to stop sighing and moaning so much, mindful that the principal of his school could probably hear every sound that fell from his lips, as well as the incredibly forceful hiss of his stream. But, Avery couldn’t stop vocalizing his relief. “Haaaahhhh…. That’s so good…” 

As his stream carried on and the release began to feel slightly less amazing, Avery felt tears actually form in the corners of his eyes. He wondered how many people looked at him and thought the exact same things Liam did, but just didn’t say them. How many other people thought he was a joke, or a deviant, or just a girl playing pretend… He only looked like a guy because he flattened his curves away with special undergarments. He only sounded like a guy some of the time if he tried really hard not to let his voice squeak. He only peed like a guy because he’d bought a funnel device off of the internet. Underneath all of that, he was just a stupid girl dressing up, wasn’t he? 

Avery’s pee finally stopped flowing and he was at last empty, he shook himself off and zipped up. When he washed his hands off he flung some water into his face as well, trying to cover up the tears. After he’d left the bathroom, he apologized to Nelson for interrupting so much and then kind of slamming the door in his face when he was in such a rush to get to the toilet. Nelson said it was okay, and that if Avery ever had problems with a bully keeping him using the school toilets, he could go straight to the office and use the toilet there, and Nelson would handle the situation. 

It should have made Avery feel better, but it didn’t. He wished he didn’t need the principal to promise he could use the office toilet whenever he had to go, it just reminded him that he wasn’t like everyone else. 

His bladder was so sore that, for the rest of the day, Avery ended up needing to pee between every class. He felt scared using the men’s rooms and almost just walked back to the office each time to take Nelson up on the offer. But, he reminded himself that Liam was suspended and he didn’t have to worry about him, and he kept going to the men’s room at the old end of the school that hardly anyone ever used. The long walk made him late a couple times, but he didn’t have it in him to care. Having to listen to someone go on and on about how much they hated him and everything that he was all while his body forced him to withstand intense physical pain had sapped away all of Avery’s energy. 

After school, he walked with Lydia to the subway station. “What’s with you?” Lydia asked. “You’re so quiet.” 

Avery recounted his adventure in the principal’s office, he didn’t even bother to leave out the detail that he’d been on the verge of pissing his pants the entire time, he just had to tell someone how it— how ALL of it— had made him feel. 

“But, you’re NOT a girl playing dress up,” Lydia said. “You’re more of a man than Liam is, that’s for sure.” 

Avery snorted. What a ridiculous thing to say. Liam was tough. He was covered in muscles. He must have needed to shave three times a week. His voice was gruff and deep. He was tall and at least half the girls in school had a crush on him. He was everything a man was supposed to be and everything Avery wasn’t. 

“It’s true,” Lydia said. “A real man doesn’t pick on someone half their size like a coward. Real men fight for important things instead, like you do.” 

“I don’t do that,” Avery said. “I don’t fight. I just let things happen.” 

“You do fight,” Lydia insisted. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you hadn’t fought at least a little. Maybe it’s hard for you to do it, but that just means that when you do, you’re extra tough. Or at least, that’s what I think.” 

Avery leaned in and hugged her. It was awkward, but Lydia was happy to see he was feeling better. 

“And, don’t ever say you’re just a girl playing pretend,” Lydia whispered. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Avery’s grip on her became tighter for a moment.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Avery’s class was going on an overnight trip to Washington DC, and he was mostly looking forward to it. He was dreading the long ride there, which was supposed to take around four hours. He was also a little worried about sharing a hotel room with some of the other guys in his class. He was not going to be able to bring himself to unzip his binder while he slept with them around, which meant he was probably going to have a sore back come morning. And there was no way in Hell he was going to remove his prosthetic and stash it somewhere for the night either, which was sure to cause a bit of itchiness around his crotch area the next day. 

There was also the issue of showering. Yes, there was going to be a door, and that door was going to be locked tight, but he’d still have to… Take everything apart with them on the other side of that door. Even if they couldn’t see him, he knew they’d probably be thinking about it. When his secret had been exposed at school, some shunned him, some supported him, and some were just way too interested. 

He doubted that his teachers were going to assign him to a room with someone they knew was cruel to him, and he knew that they at least tended to do a good job of paying attention to which students were bullies. But, he didn’t think they’d know which guys were overly curious about Avery. Because, while outright bullying could be obvious, this other behavior could be more subtle. 

Just, small comments, or very quick touches that no one but Avery ever noticed… In the beginning, when Avery was still such a ‘novelty’, some guy he didn’t even know had actually asked him “So, are they big?” and it had been so out of the blue Avery didn’t even know what he was talking about. But, the guy had continued, and then it was obvious. “If you’re getting rid of them, have you ever thought about letting someone play around with them first? Just so you know you’re not missing out on anything.” 

Avery hadn’t known what to say to that. He wanted to just punch the guy. Who the Hell says something like that to ANYONE? He was lucky that Lydia was nearby and had heard. He was lucky that his athletic best friend could be pretty freaking intimidating when she wanted to be.

And then, of course, there was the interest in what Avery had between his legs. Avery changed in the coach’s office before gym, but now that he had a prosthetic, whenever he wore shorts he did have a bulge. Not a huge one, he was always so careful to adjust everything just right. He’d read horror stories on the Internet about how packers could sometimes make it look like a person had a constant boner, and that was not something he ever wanted to have happen. 

But, it was still noticeable that something was there. And, for a while, some guys— some girls too— would… Look. They weren’t even subtle about it, either. They literally just stared right between his legs, causing him to tug his shirt down to try and cover himself up. He didn’t freaking get it, if he were a cis guy, he didn’t think all these people would be so interested in how his cock rested inside his shorts. They wouldn’t care. But, just because he was trans, what he had there just had to be SO interesting. Once, some guy even brushed his hand over Avery’s crotch for a moment when they were supposed to be exercising together. It had been so brief and fleeting that Avery tried convincing himself it must have been an accident, and that if he said anything he would just be overreacting. 

He wasn’t that sure though. 

Avery was sure he didn’t have to worry about sharing a hotel room with someone like Liam, but he also had to hope that he didn’t get stuck with someone that just found him way too fascinating. Uncle Brad would be coming along as a chaperone, though. Avery was confident that Brad wouldn’t allow anyone to act that way towards him. 

The day of the trip, Avery sat beside Lydia and his uncle on the school bus. Avery wished his uncle had a car and could have driven them himself, but Brad had told him he didn’t really need one since the subway was always faster. Avery knew that was true, he’d never seen so much traffic in one place before he’d come to New York— Which was kind of weird when he thought about it, because it seemed that very few people who lived there really drove unless they operated a bus or taxi… 

Avery was glad his uncle was beside him on the bus, because Liam was in the seat in front of him. He felt confident that Liam wouldn’t bother him now. 

The ride was fairly uneventful for a while. Avery watched out the window at the passing scenery, he played some games on his phone, he talked to Lydia and Brad… He tried to ignore the sound of Liam’s voice up ahead as he talked to one of his friends, Ron. Avery was ashamed that Liam’s voice alone could make him feel nervous, but it did. Even though Liam wasn’t talking about him at all… 

Liam did say something that managed to make Avery a little uncomfortable, and it hadn’t been on purpose at all. Liam just suddenly stopped mid-sentence and groaned; “God, aren’t we ever going to STOP” I need to fucking piss!” 

And, hearing Liam mention pissing of course made Avery think about the day he’d had an accident. Which made him think about the confrontation in the principal’s office. Which made him think about how long he’d already been on this bus for. Which made him think about how the pee he’d had earlier that morning had been hours ago now. 

Which made him realize that he needed to go. 

And now that he’d noticed his urge, it suddenly felt a lot more pressing.

Avery heard Ron say something to Liam, but he couldn’t hear what exactly. When Avery looked down at his feet, he noticed from beneath the seat ahead of him that Liam’s were tapping against the floor. Looked like he hadn’t been exaggerating, he really did have to go… 

A little piece of Avery was happy to see that Liam was clearly distressed by his bladder. Avery remembered all the times he’d been walking to the restroom at school, but saw Liam reach it before him. Every time, Avery would just turn around and resolve to hold it through his next class instead of risking a confrontation. And, every time, Avery would wriggle and stare at the clock as he waited for the bell. Avery thought about the two times Liam had physically harmed him when all he’d wanted to do was relieve his aching bladder. Liam DID deserve to have to endure a bit of pressure and fullness right now… 

But, Avery couldn’t really take that much delight in it. He couldn’t snicker or think to himself how funny it would be if Liam ended up not making it. He couldn’t hope that there would be NO stops along this journey or that they’d hit traffic so that Liam would be forced to wait as long as possible. He couldn’t wish for something to delay Liam from reaching a toilet. 

Because, anything that would delay Liam from getting to a restroom right now would also delay Avery. And, as Avery began to bounce a knee, he thought that a delay was not something he really needed at the moment. His need had grown quite a bit in intensity after he’d noticed it and had started to focus his mind on it. He knew that was the absolute worst thing he should be doing. He didn’t know when his next toilet break would be, he should NOT be thinking so much about peeing. He was only going to make himself need that break a lot worse if he did that. 

But, he couldn’t exactly help it. It was hard NOT to think about pee when he could feel a whole of it pushing hard against his sphincter. It was hard NOT to think about pee when every little bump in the road made the pee inside him slosh and roll within his bladder… He crossed his legs at the ankles and flexed his thighs. This helped a little, but his need for a urinal was still impossible to ignore. 

He took his gaze away from Liam’s still bouncing feet and looked out the window. The street outside continued to zoom by, so at least there wasn’t any traffic. He didn’t see any gas stations out there at the moment, though… And he didn’t know if the bus was ever going to stop at one, anyway. 

Avery nibbled on his lip. He wished he could just have some sort of time estimate for how long it was going to be until he got relief. If he knew he’d be peeing in half an hour, then he wouldn’t have a reason to worry. He could probably make it another full hour before it got all THAT bad… But there were at least TWO hours left in the drive, and he knew that if he had to make it through all that time without any opportunity to drain his bladder out, he’d be in trouble. 

He started to fiddle with the brim of his hat. The last time he’d peed had been right after he’d woken up that morning. He really should have gone again at school before he’d gotten on the bus just in case. He’d tried to, actually. But… he’d seen Liam go into the restroom. Avery had even tried to do the smart thing and go use the bathroom in the principal’s office, he’d already been told he could use it whenever he had to go, after all. Except, when he turned to head that way they were already telling people to start getting on the bus, and Avery hadn’t wanted to make everyone wait while he ran to the other end of the school for a quick pee! 

Now, as he sat in his seat and tried very, very hard not to think about urinating, he knew he’d made the wrong choice in not just going for it. 

Lydia, whom had been talking to Brad, turned around to face Avery. He saw now that her legs were crossed a bit as well. It looked… Mostly casual, but he wasn’t sure… “Avery?” she asked. “Are you okay? You look pale.” 

Avery tugged at his hat and whispered to her, “Um… Do you know if we’re going to stop anywhere? I… Uh… Kind of need to… You know…” He knew he must have been blushing. 

Lydia shook her head, frowning. “I don’t think so, not unless we end up needing gas…” One of her knees started to bounce, and that definitely WASN’T casual. She had to go too, he was sure of it. 

It probably made him an awful person and friend, but knowing she was in the same boat as him actually made Avery feel a little better. “Do you know how much further?” he whispered back. 

“A—A while,” Lydia said. “I think we’re halfway there now?” Her legs uncoiled from each other, only for her to quickly tie them back together in the other direction. There was sweat on her brow, and that alarmed Avery a little. Lydia was so tough and strong… She must have been really uncomfortable! 

That… Honestly made Avery feel a little protective. Lydia had helped him out of tight spots with his bladder lots of times, as embarrassing as all those incidents may have been. He wanted to help her, too. The fact that doing so would also get HIM to a toilet quicker was a nice bonus, of course. 

Avery didn’t want to go up front and request a stop. He’d probably be told ‘no’ anyway. At his old school, whenever they took long field trips like this, if a student got desperate and asked for the bus driver to find a gas station, the answer was always ‘no’. 

But, maybe if someone who the bus driver saw as more of an ‘equal’ asked… Avery leaned over Lydia, fighting not to whimper as the waistband of his jeans compressed hard against his bladder. It felt like he was being squeezed by a boa constrictor, and his hips shimmied needfully. “Unc—Uncle Brad?” he said. 

Uncle Brad turned to him. Avery saw that he was actually a little tense, too.. Brad’s nails were digging into the material of the seat, holding tight. “Yes, Avery?” he asked.

“I… Um… I need to ‘go’,” Avery said. “Could you ask them to stop, please?” 

“Sure thing,” Uncle Brad said, and when he stood his legs shook, like he was attempting to walk during an earthquake. Judging by the way his eyes widened and his cheeks puffed up as he blew out a pained gust of air, Avery didn’t think his unsteadiness had much to do with being onboard a moving vehicle. 

“Mmh,” Lydia made a low, nervous sound as her legs bounced. She crossed her arms over her chest, each hand holding the opposite arm in a vice grip. “I really hope they stop…” 

Liam’s head poked out over the seat in front of them. Avery had never seen it so pink and flushed before… He’d never seen the guy so sweaty, either. “Oh, are they stopping?” he asked. 

“M—My uncle’s asking them to,” Avery said quietly. He hated that, by helping Lydia and himself out, he was also inadvertently helping Liam. Liam didn’t deserve to be helped, by anyone. 

As if to confirm Avery’s low opinion of him, Liam pretended as if Avery hadn’t spoken. “Lydia? Are they gonna stop?” 

“His uncle’s asking,” Lydia said, and Avery was grateful for the edge in her voice. The sharp, warning tone that Avery could never manage to find in himself. 

“Oh, thank God…” Liam said. “I’m DYING to stretch my legs.” 

Avery snorted then, and winced when it sent a pang of need through his bladder, but he couldn’t help it. 

“The Hell are you laughing at?” Liam asked, seemingly not noticing the way he was bouncing up and down in his seat now. “I’d watch it if I was you, your little bodyguards aren’t gonna be around you forever.” 

Any humor Avery saw in Liam’s squirming and denials of his blatantly obvious need evaporated like water on a hot skillet. He shrank back, returned to staring out the window. His heart thundered at Liam’s threat, each beat of it bouncing against his still-filling bladder. His legs moved as if he was peddling a bicycle. 

“Liam, what is your problem?” Lydia asked. 

“Oh, naturally the freak needs a girl to fight her battles,” Liam said. “… You ARE a girl, right? A real one?” 

“As opposed to what? A doll?” 

“I’m just saying, girls don’t usually have fucking biceps like that,” Liam said. “If it wasn’t for your tits being so huge, I’d swear you were— Oh, speaking of those, you should really uncross your arms. You’re blocking the view.” 

There was heat inside of Avery now. It was a somewhat unfamiliar feeling to him. Sometimes he thought that there was something wrong with him, like when God was giving everyone their emotions He somehow messed up when it came time to give Avery ‘anger’. Avery would experience things that he knew SHOULD have made him angry at someone else, but instead all of that rage would turn instantly on himself. It was like he just COULDN’T get angry at other people, like whatever switch in his brain was supposed to activate that had been torn out and broken. 

But, now he felt it. He felt that same simmering hatred and revulsion that he often felt for himself when someone had bullied him or he’d relived one of his experiences from that awful ‘therapy’ center. Only now it wasn’t himself that he hated. It wasn’t himself that he was disgusted by. It was Liam. “Liam, shut the fuck up! The only freak here is you!” 

Lydia, whom had been partway out of her seat to shout at Liam herself, froze. Her hips even paused in their desperate twitching. She stared at Avery. Avery NEVER yelled, and he rarely cursed… This was a good thing, though. This should be encouraged. 

Liam’s face turned stoney. “Watch your back,” he warned. 

“Liam,” Avery heard Ron say quietly. “Just let it go…” 

Liam turned back around, sat back down in his seat, and began a heated, whispered argument with his friend. 

Avery’s stomach knotted and twisted over on itself, and his bladder along with it. An incredibly violent spasm tore through his core and he moaned as he tensed his thighs up over and over again. He’d been so angry he’d forgotten about his bladder, but his bladder sure hadn’t forgotten about him. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have yelled. He was so scared now, and his ‘urge’ to use the restroom was quickly becoming a very intense ‘need’. Not even watching as his bully’s feet tapped around in all directions and crossed over each other could make Avery feel better. 

He hoped Uncle Brad had convinced the driver to stop. And he knew that, if the stop DID come, Avery would be clinging to his uncle the whole time.

Uncle Brad came back, and Avery could tell immediately by the nervous look on his face that a stop was NOT coming. “I—I’m sorry, Avery,” Brad said. “They told me we have a tight schedule since they want to make it in time for the reservation where they’re taking you for dinner. But, they promised that everyone will be able to use the restroom first thing once we’re at the hotel.” 

Avery nodded miserably. “H—How much further?” 

“About an hour and a half,” Brad said apologetically. “I’m very sorry.” He began to bounce a knee. “If it makes you feel any better, I need to go pretty bad myself.” 

It did make Avery feel better, just not for the reason Brad thought. If Brad was dying to piss too, that meant he’d definitely accompany Avery into the restroom to keep him safe, and he wouldn’t just be standing there off to the side and doing nothing. It wouldn’t look weird. It wouldn’t be obvious he was just Avery’s ‘little bodyguard’ as Liam had put it. 

It was going to be okay. They’d get to the hotel, and find the men’s room in the lobby as fast as possible. Avery would rush in with his uncle. Avery was going to have to use the urinal right next to Brad's, and remain stuck to him like glue as they washed their hands. It would be the only way he’d feel safe in there now that Liam was so furious… 

It was going to be okay. Uncle Brad would protect Avery, and Avery would get to pee. Yeah, Avery was going to get to pee in just about ninety minutes. Avery was going to get to pee and it was going to feel so good. He’d be able to let all this nauseating pressure go. He’d be able to let it all dissipate and flood from him. He’d be able to relax, if only for a couple minutes, as his bladder loosened and sprayed out its heavy burden… 

Hss—!

Avery’s daydream was just a little too vivid, and he felt something squirt between his legs. The panicky, wild pounding of his heart ramped up again and he strained against the cushion he was seated on. His legs bounced faster and faster, jostling the entire seat. He didn’t realize how much he was jiggling until he heard Lydia groan. 

He looked at her, his eyes flicked down to her lap where her hands were now tucked between her legs. Immediately he looked away and up at her face, blushing. “Pl—Please, don’t bounce me around like that now…” she moaned. 

“I—I’m sorry,” Avery said. He hadn’t meant to do that. He just had to go so badly that he couldn’t keep still! He was doing his best not to thrash so violently, but the pulses from within his bladder were absolutely relentless. His bladder was practically BEGGING him to get squirming again. ‘Please, please?’ it seemed to whine. ‘Please? That was helping so much!’ 

He eventually drew his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked his feet underneath himself, trying to sit on them in such a way that they plugged up his opening. Then, he began to simply rock. Very, very slightly… This was working, some of the horrific, ear-piercing wails of his bladder were quieting down now. He lowered his voice and miserably said, “I have got to go so bad…” 

“I know…” Lydia whimpered in response. “I don’t care if we’re late to dinner… I just want a bathroom…” Even if making a pit stop caused them to be so late for their reservation that they couldn’t eat at all, she would gladly skip a meal if it meant she could just… Just sit down on a toilet and RELAX for a minute. She couldn’t stop fantasizing about long rows of restroom stalls, of how sweet it would be to hear the scraping sound as she drew the lock into place, of how quickly she’d tear her pants down, of how her pee would blast out of her as soon as she’d made contact with the seat… 

And, because she couldn’t stop thinking about that, she couldn’t stop letting out little drips of pee into her clothes, either. She wanted to tell Avery’s uncle to please go ask AGAIN and explain it was an emergency, but when she turned to look at him she knew that whatever they’d said to him had made it clear there was no room to negotiate. 

Because, if Brad believed that there was a chance he could convince the driver to stop, he would definitely be up there RIGHT now doing exactly that. She remembered how surprising it had been that day in the elevator with Avery, to see someone her own age so clearly on the verge of an accident. But, it was even MORE surprising to see someone that was MUCH older than her gripping themselves, crossing their legs, and struggling to breathe as they fought not to pee in their pants. 

“M—Mister…” Lydia began. She was never quite sure what to call Brad. She knew ‘Mister Reynolds’ made Avery think too much of his dad, whom was someone he didn’t like thinking about at all. But it felt strange to call him by his first name, too. “Um… Are you alright?” 

“I’m not, honestly,” Brad said. Lydia liked Brad, it was interesting how he and Avery were opposites in a lot of ways. Brad never hid anything, he was an open book, and very laid back a lot of the time. He was not a bundle of nerves, painful secrets and hidden fears like Avery was. “I… Don’t think I’ve had to go this bad since my partying days in college… Sorry if…” He tried to gesture to himself, but both hands were glued firmly to his crotch. “Sorry if I look… Weird right now. I promise, I can’t help it.” 

“It’s… Okay,” Lydia managed. “Let’s try and distract ourselves, maybe?” 

Avery groaned and tipped his head back. He didn’t think ANYTHING could distract him anymore. “Please say we’re almost there…” 

“I think we are,” his uncle tried to assure him. “H—Hang in there, I know it’s… It’s not easy.”
Avery, at last no longer able to stop himself, wedged his hands right between his legs. He was sure he looked ridiculous now, sitting on his feet, curled over, hands straining against his crotch… But, if he didn’t do those things, he would surely end up looking a lot MORE ridiculous when his pee burst forth from his bladder and ran in long, hissing rivulets down his legs. He bounced once, then three more times very, very rapidly. His eyes flicked down for a second and he no longer saw Liam’s feet. He wondered if maybe his bully was in a similar position to his own now… 

As if on cue he heard a loud groan from up ahead. “God, this is bullshit!” Liam declared. “Ron, do you have a bottle?” 

Avery went suddenly rigid. No. Please. God, no. If Liam managed to find a container to piss into here, it would… It would hiss and splatter, and Avery would hear every last drop of it while he just had to keep holding, and… And he’d burst! If he had to listen to Liam piss here he would completely explode and flood the seat, he couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t, he couldn’t— 

“Sorry, man,” he heard Ron say. 

Avery breathed a small puff of air through his nose. It would have actually been classed as a sigh of relief had he not still been holding back half his own body weight in piss. 

“The Hell am I gonna do, then?” Liam asked, as if it was somehow Ron’s fault that he needed a bathroom so badly and the bus wouldn’t stop. As if Ron should have anticipated this and just KNOWN to bring along an empty bottle. 

“I don’t know,” Ron said, annoyance in his voice. “But, seriously, if I HAD a bottle, I’D be the one using it.” 

“The Hell you would,” Liam replied irritably. 

Avery tried to take solace in the knowledge that Liam was no doubt beginning to freak out by now. Liam must have been feeling a lot of pain, just like he was. Liam must have been really, really struggling to hold back his flood. Avery tried to be happy about that, tried to remind himself that taking joy in Liam’s suffering did not make him a bad person. Liam deserved this, after all. And it was only natural. 

Yeah. A person being happy when someone they hated had something bad happen to them was normal. There was even a word for that. Avery had learned it in German class. What was it? Oh, right. ‘Schadenfreude’, being happy with another’s misfortune. What were some other German words Avery knew? 

Avery tried to recite them all to himself, tried to fill his brain with something other than piss. It worked for a while, focusing his mind on something that required his concentration helped put his incredibly dire need for the toilet on the back burner for a bit. But, then he remembered the word ‘Pinkeln’, and his concentration shattered after that. He was unable to piece it back together, either. He’d thought about peeing again, and now he absolutely could not STOP thinking about peeing. 

He thought about peeing into toilets, he thought about peeing into urinals. He thought about peeing on a bush, he thought about peeing all over a bed of flowers. He thought about peeing against trees and walls, he thought about peeing into bottles. He thought about jumping out the window and just peeing on the side of the road. Most of all, though, he thought about peeing in his pants, because he felt PAINFULLY close to doing exactly that. 

“Lydia…” Avery grunted out, unsure of what he wanted to say to her, unsure of what he wanted her to do. Just… She was his friend, and friends helped each other, and he needed help REALLY bad right now. “Lydia…” he repeated, and it was like her name was becoming synonymous with ‘I’m about to wet myself!’ 

Lydia had already been watching him. She wasn’t sure who here was the most desperate. She felt like her own bladder was beginning to tear apart, like even the loose fit of her sweat pants was too tight for its bloated form. Brad was doubled over on himself and scissoring his legs back and forth. Avery had pretty much been in a fetal position for a while… “Are… Are you…” 

“I’m not okay,” Avery interrupted. “I think I’m going to have an accident.” 

Lydia winced. If Avery flooded himself, if she heard his pee gush and spill out of him, her own bladder was sure to follow. “Y—You can do it,” she tried to encourage him. “I’ve seen you hold longer than this before.” 

Avery knew she was right. He had held it MUCH longer than this before, and he’d MADE it. But, this time he also had to deal with the literally torturous bumps in the road and the way they all made his bladder lurch and spasm and squeeze in on itself. “Please, just tell me we’re close…” 

Brad slowly drew himself out of his hunched pose. It hurt greatly, he could actually feel the way his skin pulled itself taut against the straining boulder of his well-past-full bladder. He looked past Avery out the window. “W—We are close,” he said, more than a hint of relief in his own voice. “We’re very close.” 

Avery hoped his uncle was telling the truth, that he wasn’t just trying to placate Avery to make him feel better. ‘Mind over matter’ really couldn’t work for him anymore. Convincing his brain that he was close to a bathroom would make no difference to his bladder unless it was actually true. His bladder was full. Beyond full, really. And unless he had SOMEWHERE to drain it in the next half hour, it would burst. 

Avery breathed a little more easily when the bus started to coil back and forth through several streets. No longer moving straight down a highway. That had to mean they were close to the hotel, right? 

He was right. Before long, they’d pulled up to a hotel, and Avery could have cried with relief. He was going to make it! He was actually going to make it! 

One of the teachers stood up, and said that everyone was to exit the bus back to front, and this was more good news to Avery. He was going to be one of the first ones off, one of the first ones to FINALLY get to a toilet. He and Lydia actually had to kind of help each other stand up. Their legs had fallen asleep after hours of tension and staying in one place, and the sudden shift in gravity made both of their bladders ache and roll. 

Brad gently got to his feet and followed them, he made himself pause beside the teacher. Pause was, perhaps, not the right word. Because Brad absolutely could not stand still. He hopped frantically from foot to foot, and his hands were shoved into his pocket as he held onto himself in a way he hoped was at least a little discreet. He whispered; “I’ve got to take my nephew to the restroom right away, is that okay? He’s having an emergency.” 

The teacher looked at Brad. Brad knew she could tell Avery was not the only one of them that was having an emergency right now. “That’s fine,” she said. “So long as you keep track of him and Lydia.” 

“Thank you,” Brad managed to rush out before hurrying off the bus. Avery and Lydia hobbled after him, and the next few minutes passed in a blur. They got through the doors of the hotel and into the lobby. Then, stood there desperately squirming until Brad saw the signs for the restrooms and they tore off in that direction.
Lydia ripped open the door to the women’s room and dove into the closest stall. Her bladder shrieked with wild frenzy and her holding muscles crumpled and withered at the sight of the toilet, making her leak in earnest. She shoved one hand back between her legs and used the other to lock the stall, noisily clattering the metal thing into place, just as she’d fantasized about doing. Then, just as in her daydream, she yanked her pants down. But, unlike in her earlier imaginings, she did not start peeing the second she’d sat down. She started peeing a couple seconds before then, a gush hitting the seat as she threw herself onto it. 

But, she didn’t care. It hadn’t landed in her pants, at least. And, now she was on a toilet, and it was all over, and that was all that mattered. Pee hissed into the bowl below her loud enough to echo in the empty room, and her ecstatic sigh of relief bounced off the walls. “Ohhhhhh….!” 

Then, she heard the door to the room opening and some of her classmates beginning to rush in. Stalls banged open and shut, and some groaned as they realized they now had to wait in line. Lydia made herself go quiet as she felt heat filling her cheeks. She sure hoped none of them had heard her making that noise… 

Meanwhile, Avery and Brad hurried into the men’s room. Avery had started to unzip his pants before the door had even swung shut behind them, and… God, he’d never been so happy to see a row of three urinals before… Brad rushed to one of them and Avery heard him loudly yank down his zipper as he took the one beside him and readied himself. 

Pee shot out of Avery and slammed into the porcelain urinal. He started to shiver. “Hff… Hfff…” he panted, blinking rapidly. He hadn’t even noticed he’d begun to tear up until now… His vision cleared and it was almost like he’d needed a moment to visually confirm that this was actually finally happening. He was peeing, and not into his pants. And… God, that felt good… 

The euphoria of Brad’s release managed to rip a low moan from his throat. “Ahhhh…” He hadn’t come that close to an accident in a very, very long time. He’d actually been starting to get pretty worried there… When some of the fogginess of his desperation cleared, he noticed that Avery had chosen to go RIGHT beside him. He wondered if he needed to let Avery know some of the unspoken rules about men’s rooms, like not taking the urinal right next to someone else unless it was the only one open and he couldn’t wait. That was going to be a… kind of unusual conversation But, he supposed it made sense that Avery didn’t know about that. Hopefully he hadn’t done it too often, though.

Avery was so overwhelmed by his relief that he forgot to lean forward to help his STP drain out until he felt a little bit of unwanted warmth building up over his thighs and beginning to move down his leg. Quickly, he clenched his muscles a bit and winced as he slowed his stream down. Then, he tilted forward and let everything flow through the funnel before he let his muscles go totally slack once more.

The weird thing was that calculating how fast he could pee and how far he had to lean over was… Actually kind of fun. He liked being so skilled with his prosthetic now that he could easily figure out how to manage the flow. It made him feel good. Even when he had to make himself stop or slow down midstream to adjust something, he didn’t mind it TOO much. 

He was still waiting for the day when being able to watch as his pee arced out and struck whatever he was aiming at would begin to feel more mundane. But, he was starting to think that that day wasn’t ever actually going to come. He was always going to think that this was fun, that this was validating. This was always going to make him feel really, really good. 

Especially when he’d been holding it in for so, so long and letting it out felt this amazing… 

The door banged open and some of Avery’s classmates began to hurry in. His back stiffened. He’d been hoping he’d finish up before anyone he went to school with came in here. The thing was, other than Uncle Brad and Lydia, he had never stood to pee in front of someone that knew he was trans. Most of his classmates were aware of that fact, and so would assume that Avery couldn’t pee into a urinal, especially not without pulling his jeans all the way down. He preferred to use the bathroom at school when it was empty of other people, or at least when the only person there was someone he was unfamiliar with. If there was someone who knew him in there and he couldn’t wait, he’d go into a stall instead so that he’d have a door for privacy. 

Avery tried to go faster, but he was nervous now so he couldn’t manage it. He still really had to go, but his stream was slowing to a dismal trickle that told him he was gonna be there for a while. 

Stalls began to lock and others began to unzip at urinals, and nobody was saying anything to Avery. At least not yet. No questions. No peaking. Everyone was only paying attention to themselves. That was good. Avery still couldn’t get his stream to resume its forceful rush. The room was packed now, every urinal and stall occupied, and— And he realized Uncle Brad had finished and wasn’t next to him anymore! 

What if Liam came in before he was finished? What if Liam did something and no one was there to protect him!? Avery had to hurry, he had to— 

“C—Come the fuck on.” 

He heard Liam’s awful voice. The sneer was gone, replaced by a wavering neediness. Clearly, Liam was still desperate to do what Avery was trying to finish doing. Avery’s body went tenser as he realized that Liam was right behind him. 

“Avery, seriously. I’m not waiting so some little girl can stand at a urinal and play pretend.” 

Avery’s bladder cramped, and now he wasn’t even trickling anymore. He still felt so much pee inside his body, but he couldn’t make it come out. His heart began to race for the third time today. He knew what this was, he knew that he was no experiencing a bit of ‘stage fright’. His brain was too nervous for his bladder to relax. This had only happened a couple times, and Avery HATED it! 

The first time he’d gone to Uncle Brad about it, complained that he hadn’t been able to finish his pee because some guy came in and started yelling into his phone about taxes or something. Uncle Brad had told him it was normal, and he’d said “You know, I think getting a shy bladder is actually more common in men than in women.” Avery was sure he’d said that to make him feel better, or to make him laugh or something, but Avery hadn’t been in a laughing mood. 

Brad had also told him that breath holding could sometimes help get the stream started if his bladder was giving him trouble. He tried that, he inhaled deep. 

He heard Liam shuffling behind him. “Move. You don’t even—“ 

“Let me finish!” Avery squeaked. “Please? I still have to go!” 

“God,” Liam said, and Avery heard real urgency overtaking his usual bluster. “How long are you gonna keep playing this shit? How long are you gonna keep pretending to be something you’re not?” 

Avery wasn’t pretending to be anything. He was a guy that STILL needed to pee REAL bad, and was being harassed so much that he couldn’t finish. “Get AWAY from me!” 

Liam was a lot taller than Avery, so when he got closer to him and tilted his head down, he was able to clearly see— “The fuck is THAT?” 

“Leave me ALONE!” Avery shouted. He imagined what it would be like if Liam had done that to ANY other guy in here. If he’d gone right up behind them and started staring at their dick!? And he’d had the audacity to tell the principal that Avery had been sneaking peaks in the restroom!? “You’re just being a moron!” This was asinine! The other two urinals had opened up for a second while Liam was still tormenting him. And instead of just using one of those he’d continued to bother Avery while others took them. 

Liam was stupid. He was just stupid. He was a stupid, dumb, idiot and he was unworthy of Avery’s time. He was unworthy of Avery’s emotions. He was unworthy of Avery paying him even the slightest bit of attention. He was unworthy of Avery EVER thinking about him beyond ‘Oh, there’s that asshole again!’ 

Hssssssssss… 

“Ahhhhhhh….” Avery’s eyes drifted shut as his stream finally resumed. His irritated bladder, angry at its relief being halted for so long, felt as though it were being massaged. This felt so good… So relaxing… So freeing… So, so much better… Twenty ton weights were being removed from Avery’s shoulders piece by piece and it was just… So, wonderfully good. He pushed down on his muscles, let his pee really spray, hissing and splattering. 

Wow, it was REALLY hissing this time, and splashing… It was almost like it was echoing or someth— 

“Ah—!” he heard the voice behind him gasp. “Nah— No… Stop—“ 

Avery went looser and looser, and then his bladder was finally empty… He zipped himself up and turned around to see Liam standing there, holding himself, doubled over, and with a rapidly expanding dark spot forming beneath his clenched hands. Avery stared at him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, but Liam wasn’t even really worth that, was he?
He really was just a stupid, dumb idiot. A stupid, dumb idiot that had gone and pissed his pants because bullying Avery and trying to make him feel small and lesser had been more important to him than using a toilet as soon as it had become available. 

Avery said nothing as Liam continued drenching himself, creating a large puddle on the tile floor. For a moment, Avery thought he’d finally finished, but then another huge gush burst out of him. Liam clearly had a pretty big bladder, but that surely just made the humiliation of breaking it open even worse. He was totally soaked by the time he’d finally stopped. 

Only then did Avery say something, “Well, that was pretty stupid, wasn’t it?” Avery knew he was really pushing his luck, and that once Liam’s shock at being an eighteen year old standing in pissed pants right in front of a row of urinals had worn off, there was definitely going to be some sort of retribution. No doubt, Liam blamed him for this. 

Avery quickly doused some water onto his hands at the sink and got out of there. He met back up with Uncle Brad and Lydia, and was happy to see that Lydia had made it in time as well. His class converged in the lobby and his teachers read off who would be staying with which chaperone in which room. Avery would be with his uncle, of course, and a guy he didn’t know too well. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not. 

Uncle Brad said he wanted to take the stairs rather than the elevator and asked Avery to come with him. Avery was confused, it was going to be a long walk… But, he was going to feel a lot safer with his uncle than he would without him. Avery didn’t know what Liam was going to do now, but he knew it was probably going to involve targeting him. 

“Avery,” Uncle Brad began when they were alone in the stairwell. “You don’t… Normally pee right next to people unless you just HAVE to, do you?” 

Avery shook his head, “No,” he said. “I know lots of guys get uncomfortable with that. I don’t like having someone right beside me, either. I only did that earlier because Liam kinda threatened me and so I was scared to go into the restroom, so I—“ 

Brad felt bad now. He’d left the restroom as soon as he’d finished. He hadn’t known Avery was frightened and wanted a protector… “Did Liam do anything?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “He yelled at me and called me a bunch of stuff, then he… He looked over my shoulder while I was trying to finish going and—“ 

“He… Tried to look at what’s in your pants?” Brad asked. 

“Y—Yeah,” Avery said. “He… Looked at my… He looked at my junk, and was like ‘The fuck is that?’, and I got really angry, and then he—“ 

“Avery, you know what that is? That’s sexual harassment.” 

“What?” Avery asked. It had sure made him feel extremely uncomfortable and violated, but it wasn’t as bad as all that, right? When he heard the term ‘sexual harassment’, his first thought was of a creepy old guy groping his young secretary. Liam hadn’t touched him, he’d just looked and said things. 

“It is,” Brad said. “If he’d gone in there, looked at anyone else’s genitals and made comments about them, that would be harassment. It’s not different just because you’re trans.” 

Avery nodded, it had always FELT like it was a real part of him, and being stared at there had made him feel absolutely disgusting… 

“You don’t have to let anyone look at you there if you don’t want them to, it’s your body. All of it is,” Brad said. “Next time I see one of your teachers, I’m going to let them know about this. It has to stop.” 

“But— But Liam is already really mad at me,” Avery blurted out. “He had an accident because he was so busy picking on me, and I know he probably blames me. If he gets in trouble, he’s going to be even—“ 

“He NEEDS to get in trouble,” Brad said. “If all he gets after this is some kind of punishment from the school then he should consider himself lucky. He didn’t… He didn’t touch you in there, did he?” 

Avery shook his head. 

“Okay, good,” Brad said. “If he’d done that I’d be kicking his ass now. I’ve had it. If this boy ever lays a hand on you again, I— I don’t even know.” He sighed. “You… Feeling okay?” 

“Y—Yeah,” Avery said. “I think so. I don’t have to pee anymore, at least. That’s pretty nice.” 

“Heh…”

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  • 3 months later...

“Dude, Liam said he wants to kick your ass,” was the first thing Avery heard when he got to his hotel room. 

Before Avery could remember how to speak, Uncle Brad was saying “If I see Liam come near Avery again, he’s going to need the emergency room.” 

Avery looked at the guy he’d be sharing the room with. He wasn’t too familiar with him.“He says you pissed on him?” The guy asked. “Is that true?” 

Ah. So THAT was the story Liam was going with? “No, that’s disgusting. Liam pissed himself.” ‘Because he’s an idiot,’ Avery added in his head. 

“Yeah, I figured that’s what really happened,” the guy agreed. “Because, like, I think if I was gonna pee on somebody I’d aim for the eyes, you know? Not just do it down his legs.” 

Avery felt so awkward. He felt like he was watching this conversation happen from outside his body. He assumed the guy was probably joking. He hoped he was, anyway. “Eheh, yeah… Um, Liam just had an accident. That’s all that happened.” 

“So, you’re Avery, right?” the guy asked. “I’m Wyatt. Why’s Liam hate you so much?” 

Avery crossed his arms tight against himself, curled his hands in. “You… You don’t know?” 

“He’s not STILL on that, is he?” Wyatt said. “I thought everyone had moved on by now.” 

Avery thought about that. A lot of his classmates pretty much HAD moved on from it, really. For a bunch of them, Avery being trans was old news now. Even some of the people that had bothered him about it the beginning had grown tired of it. There were just a couple handfuls left that still picked on him or treated him like a zoo exhibit. Liam was by far the worst. “Some… Some have, some haven’t,” he said. “Some people still stare, or say gross stuff, but I think I’m the only one that notices when they do it. And some people like Liam keep… Acting like that about it.” 

“Wow, that sucks,” Wyatt said. “I think I only really heard about it for, like, a week. Sorry there’s still people giving you shit… Anyway, Liam is pretty much a dick, he deserved to wet his pants.” 

“He… Did,” Avery agreed. 

“Heh, how’d it happen?” 

“Um…” Avery rubbed the back of his neck. “I was… Uh… I was using the urinal, and he started to kinda… Lay into me like he always does. And, then even when some of the other toilets opened up, instead of using one like a normal person, he decided to just keep bugging me instead, and I guess then he couldn’t wait anymore. It was his choice.” 

“Wow, what an idiot,” Wyatt said, then got quiet. “Er…” It was clear he wanted to say something. “Um…” 

“What?” 

“I… Wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure if I should… Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” 

Wow, that was rare. Someone was actually considering Avery’s feelings before blurting something out. Like they were seeing him as a human being. Very few people had ever done that before. “Um, yeah… Thanks for… For checking. And you can ask, I guess. But, I just might not be okay answering.” 

Wyatt looked away, “I mean, it’s just… You said you were using the urinal?” 

Avery had had a feeling that was what Wyatt was confused about. “Yeah, they sell things for trans guys so they can go standing up. I know, it’s weird. And I know it’s kinda silly, but I feel really uncomfortable without—“ 

“Nah, I don’t think it’s that silly,” Wyatt shrugged. “Pretty sure if I woke up tomorrow and my dick was gone I’d need to have something like that too.” 

And then Avery was laughing. 

“And, I think I heard once that like, there was some guy that had something wrong with his dick— Like he had some bad injury or something. And the doctors gave him some kinda prosthetic thing too.” Wyatt laughed. “I don’t know if it’s the same sorta thing you have, but yeah.” 

Even though Wyatt thought the story of a man needing to have his dick replaced was just funny, the story made Avery feel something else entirely. Other guys had prosthetic cocks, and not just trans ones either. The man in Wyatt’s story wasn’t less of a man, and so neither was Avery. “Did you see if he was happy with it?” 

“I mean, I think he was,” Wyatt shrugged. “He looked happy in the photo they used anyway. So, yeah, you shouldn’t think you’re weird. 

Avery did still feel a little bit weird, but only because a guy he’d literally just met had managed to make him feel so much better about himself so quickly. And near as he could tell, Wyatt wasn’t even really TRYING too hard to do that, just relaying something he’d heard about and thought was interesting.

After a few minutes, it was time to go back down to meet up with everyone else for dinner. Avery stayed very close to Brad all evening at the restaurant, he knew Liam was no doubt filled with rage and looking for a way to “get back” at Avery for the event that was ultimately his own fault. 

Avery was so anxious that he had a hard time eating his food… And his bladder was so sore after his earlier emergency that he needed the bathroom pretty bad halfway through the meal. He saw the sign for the men’s room tucked away in a corner and looked at it nervously. If Liam saw him go in there, he wouldn’t put it past him to follow him in and bother him. And, this time, Avery would be alone… 

He tapped his uncle on the arm. “I… Um… I want to use the bathroom…” he said quietly, embarrassed. He felt so childish. He should have been able to go to the toilet by himself, this wasn’t fair. 

“No problem,” Brad said, and he quickly escorted Avery to the restroom. He knew how bad this arrangement made his nephew feel, and his heart ached that someone could scare him enough that he felt he needed protection just to relieve himself. 

As Avery used a urinal, he felt even more out of sorts when Uncle Brad didn’t move to do the same. Brad didn’t have to go, he’d literally only come in here to be Avery’s security detail. 

‘Jeez,’ Avery thought. ‘I’m so freaking needy…’ He felt like such a horrendous burden, making his uncle stand up and leave his dinner to come stand in a smelly public restroom just so he could take a quick leak. Avery should have just held it, he hadn’t even been that desperate! 

Avery zipped up and washed his hands, “Th—Thank you,” he said, ashamed. “I’m really sorry.” 

Uncle Brad put a hand on his back, “Please, don’t apologize. You’re not the one that did anything wrong.” 

Avery knew that, deep down, he knew that it wasn’t his fault at all that he felt scared. If Avery didn’t have someone threatening him, then he wouldn’t feel frightened at all. He wouldn’t need someone guarding him while he did something as simple as use the toilet. 

He remained silent through the rest of dinner, feeling angry and frustrated. All of this was just so inconvenient. He shouldn’t have people shouting at him, hurting him, threatening him over a basic bodily function. He shouldn’t be so fearful of other human beings that he felt the need to cling to the few he could trust in order to take care of his biological needs. He’d tried for so long to understand why people like Liam did what they did, what they got out of it, what they thought they were achieving, and he’d never been able to figure it out. 

Back in the hotel room, Avery prepared for what was sure to be the worst part of this trip. He knew it would be bad the moment he stepped into the bathroom and saw the huge full length mirror on the wall. Avery was more okay with seeing his reflection now than he used to be, but only when his clothes were all on. He could not stand seeing what he looked like naked. It was bad enough having to look down at it all to wash himself, having to see every bit of it reflected back at him felt like a punishment. 

At home, he sometimes showered with the lights off. Uncle Brad had asked him to stop doing that, fearing he’d slip and hurt himself, but some days were just too hard and Avery couldn’t deal with it any other way. 

He wouldn’t try that here, in an unfamiliar bathroom. He needed to still be able to see. He took off his shirt first, then his pants. So far, it wasn’t too terrible. But, this was where he usually got stuck. His hands wouldn’t want to continue doing what they had to do. 

He pulled down his boxers, and actually felt good for a moment. He could see his prosthetic, attached to him via his harness. It looked real. It looked like it belonged there. It felt nice to see. But, then he had to take it off. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really real, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t a physical part of his body like it was supposed to be, and that underneath it was something he could hardly stand to acknowledge WAS a physical part of him. 

He knew some trans men weren’t as repulsed by that whole region as he was, and could even derive pleasure there. But, Avery couldn’t. He’d attempted to masturbate only once, and it had ended with him shaking and trembling and feeling like he and his body were two entirely separate entities and that he was watching the events unfold from behind a pane of glass. None of it had felt good, it had felt nauseating and wrong and he’d quit after less than two minutes. As far as Avery was concerned, that region of his body wasn’t even his. It belonged to no one, it just existed without Avery’s consent and he wished every day that it would leave him. 

He set the prosthetic on the edge of the tub so that he could wash it out. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that it needed to be properly rinsed, he probably would leave it on to bathe. But, if he never cleaned the funnel, he could end up with an infection. He’d had an infection like that once before, and it had necessitated him paying more attention to THAT part of his body than he could stomach. 

Finally, he forced himself to unzip the binder, shutting his eyes tight against his reflection. Everything about his chest was wrong. Avery had never been able to think of those things as ‘breasts’, his brain told him that they were enormous, pus filled tumors and that they needed to be gone NOW. He hated how large his nipples were, he hated feeling the tumors move and sway as he walked, he fantasized every day about destroying them. 

And then, Avery was naked… In an unfamiliar place, with a guy his own age that he went to school with right out there in the other room. He knew Wyatt did not have XRAY vision, but it FELT like he did. Wyatt was out there, thinking about how Avery was about to shower, and that he’d have to be naked to do that, with his body all warped and distorted and wrong. Avery felt more exposed than he ever had in his life. 

He showered as fast as he could, rinsed out his prosthetic with a little bit of soap and a lot of warm water, and then it was over. The relief he felt when he put his prosthetic back on and pulled up his pants was immense, eclipsed only by how much better he felt after putting on his binder and shirt. He was together again, reassembled. He was okay. 

He opened the door to find his uncle standing there. “Could I talk to you?” he asked. 

Avery nodded, and Brad stepped in. 

“So, tonight and tomorrow…” Brad began. “Your… Stuff that you wear?” 

Avery knew what he was asking. “I HAVE to leave it on,” he said. “Please? It’s just a couple days. I can’t— Not here. Please?” 

“You could… Keep the comforter pulled up all the way,” Brad said. “So that he won’t see how you look without—“ 

“No,” Avery said, he knew he was whining, but he couldn’t help it. The mere idea of having those things… out… “Please? I know it’s bad for me, but I just—“ 

“Okay,” Brad said. “But, tomorrow I want you to go into a restroom every so often and unzip it for a bit. Just for a few minutes to give yourself a break. And, I’m not going to make you take the… Lower stuff off. We haven’t really got a place to hide it over night. So, make sure you’re cleaning it as best as you can.” 

Avery felt better. He wasn’t going to enjoy ducking into bathroom stalls to mess with his binder, but it was a lot better than having to leave it open all night long here. And, remembering the Hellish desperation he’d gone through on the bus, he thought it would at least give him more opportunities to visit the toilet tomorrow. 

After Avery and Brad left the restroom and Wyatt had showered, the three went to bed.

When Avery awoke, there were problems. 

It really wasn’t good to go to bed with his binder on. He’d turned wrong at some point during his sleep and there was a horrendous pain in one of his shoulders where the strap had been pressing all night. And, it really was best not to leave the prosthetic on all the time, either. Sweat sometimes got caught between the prosthetic and his flesh, especially at night. So, taking it off in order to give his skin time to air out was necessary. Since this hadn’t happened, he was terribly itchy. ‘Don’t scratch it!’ he ordered himself. ‘It will go away faster if you don’t scratch!’ 

He balled his hands into fists as he fought the urge to dig his nails into his irritated flesh to try and drive away the maddening feeling of pins and needles assailing it. ‘Wash off some in the bathroom,’ he told himself. That had helped in the past when he’d accidentally gone to sleep with it still on. 

He waited by the restroom door, uncomfortably holding his clothing for the day. Once Wyatt had come out, Avery rushed inside. It was easier to get undressed this time than it had been the night before. He was still half-asleep, harder to get trapped inside his brain when he wasn’t fully awake. In the shower, he rinsed off the irritated areas of his flesh and the itch died mostly away. He even let out a relaxed sigh as the flames beneath his skin were extinguished. So much better… 

He got dressed quickly and was back in the main room a moment later. Brad took him and Wyatt down to the first floor of the hotel, and back onto the bus with the rest of the class. It wasn’t until the bus pulled away that Avery realized he’d sort of missed a step in the restroom earlier. 

Namely, he’d forgotten to actually USE it. 

He’d been so concerned with taking care of his itching thighs that he’d neglected paying a visit to the most important fixture in the bathroom… And, WOW was he ever regretting that! 

He was stunned that he hadn’t noticed the pressure within his bladder earlier, surely it had been throbbing away ever since he’d woken up! He began to tap his foot agitatedly. He hoped the ride to the museum they were going to wouldn’t last long, and that he’d have an easy time locating the restroom once they got there. 

With some concern, he glanced around the crowded bus for Liam, but was unable to find him. He knew the guy must have been in here somewhere, even if he couldn’t see him. He knew Liam was also out for his blood after yesterday, and prayed he’d be able to take care of his growing need without Liam trying to start something. 

That should be easy enough, though! Avery just had to ask Brad to take him to the bathroom, and he’d be safe for sure! He’d feel like a child, but at least he’d be a child that could relieve his bladder in peace. This was all going to be nice and simple, even if he was uncomfortable, he knew he could hold his pee until they got to the museum. The restroom would no doubt be really close to the entrance. And Brad would ensure Liam would leave him be. No reason to stress himself out, no reason to worry. He had to go sort of badly right now, but that was going to be taken care of soon enough. 

They reached the museum pretty quickly, and Avery only winced a tiny bit when he stood up to depart from the vehicle. ‘Soon,’ he promised his annoyed, aching bladder. ‘Just a few more minutes.’ 

Inside the museum, everyone was told they could pair off with whoever they wanted while they walked around, much to Avery’s relief. But, speaking of relief, he saw the restroom sign pointing down a hall. His bladder was already loosening up at the sight, and he eagerly bounced on his toes. 

Ms. Dawson still talking, droning on about how everyone needed to behave, and about the essay everyone would be required to write about their favorite piece of art that they found here. Right now, Avery’s favorite piece of art in this whole building was down that hallway… He silently begged for Ms. Dawson to hurry up and finish with her spiel, continually staring at the arrow directing him towards the restrooms was making his bladder convulse and spasm hard as it struggled to understand why he hadn’t brought it there yet. ‘Come on… Come on, we get it!’ he thought. ‘I want to pee now!’ 

Finally, Ms. Dawson had concluded with everything she’d wanted to say, and Avery relaxed once more. His ordeal was nearly over, and he hadn’t needed to endure nearly the amount of struggle that he’d gone through yesterday. He was gonna pee in just a couple minutes, and this annoying pressure would be a thing of the past. 

“There’s this one painting here I really wanted to see,” Lydia said. “It’s a Monet, called ‘The Houses of Parliament’. I’ve seen photos of it, the colors are really cool.” 

Avery was sure the colors really were cool if Lydia said they were, but he could certainly wait to see them. There was one thing that he COULDN’T comfortably wait to do for much longer, however. He’d been doing his best to get better at asking people for the things he needed, so many times in the past he’d let himself get desperate simply because he couldn’t make himself speak up. He would not repeat that mistake today. Right away, he turned to his uncle and said “I wanted to go to the restroom before we start, okay?” 

That was okay, of course. Brad led Avery and Lydia down the hall towards the restrooms, and Avery was breathing easily despite the growing tightness beneath his waistband. Almost there… Almost there… Almost there… 

Avery’s bladder suddenly cramped in on itself as he saw a far less pleasant sign affixed to the door of the men’s room. 

It was currently closed. Out of order. 

Avery wasn’t seconds away from emptying his bladder. He no longer knew WHEN he’d next get to do it. 

Brad gave Avery a sympathetic look. “It’s alright, I’m sure there’s another one somewhere, we can start looking.” 

And at that, all the shame flooded back into Avery. Lydia didn’t seem to need to go. Unlike Avery, who’d been an idiot this morning, she’d no doubt relieved herself right after waking up. What an enormous nuisance he’d be if he made her spend this trip helping him find a urinal. Who knew how long it would take to find him one? What if it took so long Lydia didn’t get to see that painting she liked? 

All things considered, Avery didn’t have to go THAT much right now, anyway. “I—It’s fine,” he said. “We don’t have to look, I’m sure we’ll pass by one. I can wait, it’s not that bad.” As if to protest his statement, his bladder sent him a sharp twinge that made the muscles around his sphincter pulse. He bounced once on his heels, trying to make it look casual. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Lydia tried to keep the disappointment off her face at Avery’s words. There had been a bit of a problem this morning for her; She was sharing her hotel room with two other girls, and they’d both taken so long in the restroom that Lydia didn’t get to have a turn of her own before it was time to go down to the lobby. She’d barely even been able to get her clothes on fast enough, there had definitely been no time to empty her bladder! 

When Avery had requested a toilet break she’d been very relieved because it meant she’d finally get to go as well! 

The women’s room was still open, but… Wow, that would be really unfair! Even if Avery didn’t need the bathroom as badly as SHE did, she didn’t want to taunt him by peeing when he wasn’t able to, and adding on a few more extra minutes that he’d need to wait. “Th—That’s good,” she stammered finally. “And, I’m sure we’ll find one soon!” 

Avery REALLY hoped so… 

About an hour later, and the three had gone through several rooms of the museum, but had yet to find another set of restrooms. Avery had definitely been keeping an eye out for one, his bladder hadn’t ceased steadily filling for even one second during all that time. What was once an irritating, nagging, tingling bit of throbbing was now a pulsating urge that was causing him to walk with very stiff legs. He struggled to look away whenever he saw a painting that contained anything that involved water. Ocean scenes, rivers, lakes, waterfalls… Even in the still images, he swore he could hear them trickling, and his thighs clenched in tightly at the sight. 

“Water is very hard to paint realistically, I’ve heard,” Brad said. “It isn’t easy to make it look like it’s really flowing, but this one does it,” he gestured to one painting, and Avery agreed with him. It really did look like the stream in it was moving, instead of just remaining static and frozen in time. If it didn’t make him wish so badly for a place to allow his OWN stream to start moving, he thought he’d be admiring it as much as Brad was. 

In one of the older paintings, one depicting a scene in some ancient castle, Avery even saw a tiny chamberpot tucked into one corner. No one was using it, thank God— If Avery was forced to see even a drawing of someone urinating right now, he’d probably stop cold and double over. But, just the sight of the pot, and the knowledge of what it was FOR, made him wish he could somehow step inside the painting and make some serious use of it. 

That idea actually got him smiling at the absurdity of it. He imagined all the Renaissance-era people in the image jumping with surprise as some guy wearing bizarre clothing unlike anything they’d ever seen suddenly crashed their party just to take a huge piss. He even snorted a little laugh, but winced when it prompted his bladder to contract. 

“What’s so funny?” Lydia asked him. 

Avery froze. He couldn’t exactly TELL her that he’d been fantasizing about developing magic powers that let him go inside works of art to pee… “N—Nothing. I just remembered something I saw online. It’s nothing.” 

“Oh…” Lydia said, wishing he’d shared more. She was in need of some sort of distraction from her bladder, and the art alone wasn’t cutting it… “H—Have you seen a bathroom yet, anywhere?” she asked. She’d been desperately checking around every corner for one herself, but maybe she’d missed it. And, since Avery wasn’t in such dire need of a break, perhaps he’d forgotten all about it and didn’t say anything when he spotted one. 

Avery tried to straighten himself out a bit more, wary that Lydia was catching on to exactly how desperate he was becoming and getting concerned. He didn’t want to worry her, he hated stressing people out over his silly problems! “Nope,” he said, shrugging like it didn’t matter at all. “But, that’s okay. I’m still fine.” 

Lydia patted her hands against her thighs anxiously for a moment… There had to be another set of bathrooms here somewhere, right? This was an enormous place! She thought about telling Avery that she needed to pee, asking if they could please go back down to the one bathroom they HAD managed to find so she could get relief— If Avery didn’t need it that bad, he shouldn’t mind, right? “Avery, I—“ 

“Oh hey,” Brad called. “Check this one out!” He was standing before an enormous painting that displayed a waterfall that was surely hundreds of miles wide… Hundreds of miles worth of gushing, pouring water all splashing and echoing. “This is what I was telling you about, Avery. The amount of skill someone needs to make this look so real— You can practically HEAR it, can’t you?” 

Avery nodded twitchily. He sure as Hell COULD hear it! He had the most peculiar urge to clamp his hands over his ears to block out the thunderous hissing that only existed within his imagination! “Y—Yeah,” he managed. “It’s neat…” he swayed from side to side. He… Honestly wouldn’t mind jumping into that painting either, though. There was a rock ledge at one end of the waterfall, and he was sure it would feel all kinds of good to release his bladder’s waterfall down it… 

He crossed his legs at the thought, tensing them together. ‘Hold it… Hold it…’ he thought as he tried to quell the thrashing need within. He uncrossed them finally when he saw his uncle turn back around. “What do you think of the colors, Lydia?” 

Lydia had been trying not to look at the painting at all, but she did now. It was a spattering of different shades of blue in most places, but the sky was at sunset and filled with pinks and yellows… Some of the yellows were being reflected against the waterfall. Clearly, the long-dead artist that had created this work was a sadist, he somehow just knew that one day his painting would hang in a museum and a girl with an uncomfortably full bladder would have to look at it and all the suggestive imagery it contained. “Th—They’re nice,” she said, dragging her nails against her pant legs, agitated. “The reflection of the sky is…” 

“I know,” Brad said. “Amazing attention to detail.” 

“L—Let’s find some others,” Lydia said, and they started to leave this room. 

“Avery, I don’t think I ever asked, do you have a favorite artist? Maybe they have some of their stuff here.” 

Avery shrugged, trying to remember names of famous artists. He was struggling to remember anything that wasn’t related to urinals, though… 

Well. 

Wasn’t there some artist that, like, autographed a urinal, or something? Had anyone ever… Used it? Could HE use it? Was it in this museum? “Who’s that guy that signed the urinal? That’s kinda funny, I guess.” 

“I believe that was Marcel Duchamp,” Brad said. “I don’t think that one is displayed here, though.” 

“Oh, okay,” Avery said. It was quite a ridiculous thought, anyway. He was pretty sure that peeing into one of the art displays— even if it WAS technically a urinal— wouldn’t be the ‘proper behavior’ Ms. Dawson had asked for.

But, Avery absolutely had to find SOMEWHERE to go soon, the amount of urgency pulsing right against his opening was beginning to make it hard to walk. When he parted his legs too far, he’d feel like his pee was right at the very edge of his exit, like it would take just one tiny push to make it all come flowing out. He was forced to take tiny, little half-steps, occasionally rising onto the tips of his toes, clenching down hard against the tide. 

After a bit more walking, and still no sign of a restroom, Lydia was starting to feel highly stressed out. She’d skipped her morning pee before school a couple of times, and it had always made for a very uncomfortable ride there, but she’d always reach school rather quickly and be able to go straight to the toilet for relief. At most, forgetting to pee after waking up would only require her to hold it in for about an hour. 

This had been a lot longer than one hour, and her kidneys were refusing to listen to her demands that they stop pumping liquid into her bladder until she found a way to get rid of everything that was already inside it. She paused at the staircase that she knew would lead back to the first set of restrooms they’d found; How foolish it had been to choose to restrain herself when Avery had said repeatedly that he barely even had to go! It wouldn’t have been THAT mean to pee earlier! She rocked back and forth on her feet. “Um… I need to use the restroom,” she said. “Can you guys wait for me while I go back downstairs?” 

‘No fair!’ Avery’s brain screamed. ‘No fair, no fair, no fair!’ He was positive he had to go a lot more than Lydia did! His middle felt swollen and firm, and he was DYING to let it release! But… Maybe they’d fixed whatever the issue was with that men’s room by now? Maybe he COULD finally use it? Ohhh, he really hoped he could finally use it now! “O—Okay,” Avery said. “N—No problem. We can go back down there.” 

Lydia was relieved that he wasn’t irritated with her, and the three went back down to the restrooms. 

Avery managed to restrain his anguished moan to just a small, pleading whimper when he saw that the sign was still tacked to the men’s room. No need to make Lydia worry about him, or make her feel guilty enough to hold her own bladder on his account. But, the sight of that sign made him feel like a heavy metal pipe was being whacked against his abdomen, like another cup’s worth of urine had been dumped into his bloated bladder all at once and with no warning. 

Avery watched as Lydia entered the women’s room, about to do the thing he REALLY had to do. It crossed his mind to say something like, “Lydia, I actually DO have to go kinda bad. When you’re done can you, like, stand next to the door and not let anybody in while I use it?” But, his mouth refused to open. What if Liam was nearby and saw him enter or exit the women’s room? He shuddered to think what fresh Hell that would unleash upon him. He could practically hear the taunts already… 

It was stupid that the bathrooms had to be separated like that, anyway! He’d always thought it was dumb, all it did was stress him out, make him wonder ‘What does everyone see when they look at me? Will I get beat up if I go inside? Will someone yell at me?’ And the toilets had doors on them, to see what anyone was doing, a person would have to look over the top of the door or lean down to stare underneath it, and that wouldn’t be okay no matter what gender they were. 

In New York City, there were actually some places that designated both their restrooms as being for everybody. Avery didn’t see it super often, but he always felt safe in those. Any time he came across a restroom like that while he was out, he would always, ALWAYS use it even if he didn’t have to go that much, just in case. 

If the restrooms HERE were labeled as ‘for everyone’, then it wouldn’t have mattered that one of them was out of order. Avery wouldn’t have to stand out here in the hallway, holding it, while Lydia got relief.

Avery tried hard not to think about what Lydia was doing. He was sure she wouldn’t like it if he pictured her with her pants down, peeing on the toilet… His bladder certainly didn’t like that image! It convulsed hard, contracting inside his body, and a teensy little squirt of urine shot out from between his tense legs. “Ohh…” he mumbled, hooking his ankles together and leaning against the wall. 

“Avery?” Brad asked. “Are you… You’ve had your… thing zipped up for a while,” he realized. “We really do need to find you a bathroom soon so you can take a break…” 

Avery nodded in definite agreement. ‘Yes, yes! Please find me a bathroom right away!’ His shoulder was still sore after last night, but he barely noticed that anymore. His bladder demanded ALL of his attention at the moment. He knew he had to unzip his binder for a few minutes, but he needed to PEE a million times worse than that! 

“You feeling okay?” Brad asked. “Breathing alright?” 

Avery WAS having some trouble breathing, sucking in air too deeply made his skin pull tautly against his bladder, made him wish for a toilet even more! “I— Can we, like, focus on finding a bathroom now? As fast as possible?” 

“You aren’t in pain, are you?” 

Avery definitely was in pain, but not the kind Brad was concerned about. “I just— I really want to find one soon, okay?” 

Lydia returned then, and Avery tried not to feel jealous when he noticed how relaxed she looked. Must have been nice to have an empty bladder… He wasn’t angry with her, she didn’t even KNOW he was bursting, after all. He hadn’t told anyone that he was having an emergency, and he was trying as hard as he could not to be obvious about it. He’d been shifting his hips and walking a little oddly, but he’d been able to keep his hands from grabbing, had been able to keep his legs from crossing TOO much… 

With the ever increasing urgent signals his bladder was sending, he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to stop himself from dancing, though.

“Let’s find a restroom for Avery now,” Brad said to Lydia. 

“Oh,” Lydia frowned at her friend. “You should have said it was getting bad, then I wouldn’t have—“ 

“I—I’m fine,” Avery insisted. “Just have to…” He didn’t want to tell Lydia that he needed to unzip his binder any more than he wanted to tell her he really needed to pee… “Um… I have to adjust something, that’s all. I’m okay.” 

“Alright,” Lydia said. 

After a bit of searching, he’d Avery had needed to come to a dead stop a couple times to cross his legs and adjust his fly. The third time he stopped like this, he accidentally doubled over and had a very difficult time getting moving again. His middle was totally firm now, rock-solid from the weight of his bladder, and it was becoming much heavier than he thought he could carry… 

He kept trying to prod the waistband of his jeans away from his abdomen, but this brought him very little relief. The pulses at his opening weren’t coming in waves anymore, it was a constant assault of intense pressure, and he just… He needed somewhere to go! His water-logged brain had been running further and further away from him. When he noticed that several works of art here were vases and pots, he fantasized about yanking one from its display and filling it up. When they passed by a water fountain, he thought about how it looked sort of similar to a urinal. No matter what object his eyes seized on, his brain would supply him with SOME way he could try to use it to alleviate his problem, no matter how illogical it was. He had to piss, and he had to do it now! 

At one point, Brad stopped, and Avery forced himself to pause beside him. Avery was completely incapable of holding still, he continued to jump from one foot to the other, his hands kept fluttering by his waist, tensing themselves into fists. Brad looked at his watch. “It’s actually almost lunchtime, so—“ He paused, glancing up at Avery. Now that Avery was stuck in one place, his pee dancing was as blatant as could be. 

Lydia was looking at him too, and Avery reddened under their gazes. He hoped they weren’t expecting him to say anything. He knew the only words he’d be able to force out of his mouth right now would be an urgent, whimpering cry of “I have to piss!” He tried to make himself go still, managed it for a second, and immediately spurted a short jet of pee into his boxers. He couldn’t hold still, if he stopped moving, then he peed! 

Brad actually felt terrible as he watched Avery’s emergency unfold. Having seen his nephew ready to burst several times before, Brad was surprised and a little disappointed in himself for not noticing this problem sooner. Avery had even SAID pretty much as soon as they’d gotten to the museum that he had to use the restroom. Brad should have known all of Avery’s claims that he didn’t really have to go THAT much were probably just because he didn’t want to admit to being desperate in front of Lydia, or something like that. 

“Avery, are you—“ 

“I— I, um…” Avery faltered, crossed his legs and jiggled up and down. “I— I need to go REALLY bad all of the sudden!” 

‘All of the sudden, right,’ Brad thought. Clearly, the guy had been holding it for hours and hours of ever-increasing urgency. He wouldn’t scold him in front of Lydia, though. He’d never do anything so cruel. “Well, like I said, it’s lunchtime. There are places to eat around here, and I’m sure they’ll have a bathroom you can use.” 

Avery nodded frantically, he hoped he could walk that far… “Hur—Hurry, okay? It’s… I don’t know, I barely had to go all the day, and then suddenly I’m— I don’t know.” 

Lydia listened to him stutter and stumble over his words and had a very difficult time believing them. If she were a more observant person, if she was more adept at reading body language, she probably would have noticed that he was reaching the bursting point ages ago. Now that he had to go so much he could hardly stand up, she could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time. She followed after his hobbling steps, stumbling in the direction of the museum’s exit. “Avery… You should have said!” 

“I— I mean it, I didn’t have to go that much until just now!” Avery insisted, finally tucking a hand between his tense thighs. He hadn’t MEANT to do that right in front of Lydia, but another squirt had just leaked into his boxers and he needed a nice, solid barrier to block anything else from slipping out! 

“Come on, Avery…” 

“I… Okay, so I’ve been dying for a piss all freaking day,” Avery admitted. “I forgot to go this morning, I haven’t peed in… I don’t know, like over half a day by now, and I’m about to completely explode. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Um… Not exactly?” Lydia offered. “A simple ‘Yes, Lydia, I should have spoken up earlier, I guess I was being silly,’ would have worked.” 

Avery looked away from her. “I didn’t want us to have to rush through everything just to find me a bathroom, and then I didn’t want YOU to think you had to hold it just because I couldn’t go…” 

Lydia sucked in her cheeks. “Um… Actually, I kinda DID hold it longer than I wanted to because I was worried about making you feel worse,” she said. “So, I guess you were right… I WOULD have kept waiting if I knew how badly you actually had to go.” 

“Well… No point in both of us suffering…” Avery said. And, ‘suffering’ was definitely the right word to describe what he was feeling in that moment. His opening had started to sting and burn, sometimes a drop would begin to collect right there and he’d clench as hard as he could to keep it from falling… But, no matter how hard he tried, it always managed to seep out. A second hand dove between his legs, squeezing even more tightly as he doubled over, walking on tense, partially crossed legs. 

Brad led them out of the museum, trying not to walk so quickly that Avery burst trying to keep up with him, but not so slowly that Avery had no chance of making it to a bathroom fast enough… Had he not had a time limit, Brad would have gotten out his phone and checked what kinds of restaurants were around here. But since there WAS a time limit that— From the looks of Avery’s tiny, contorted steps and nonstop crotch grabbing— was VERY close to reaching zero, he just headed towards the closest place, which was just across the street. He didn’t even bother to really read the name, he just registered that it was a restaurant, and that a public bathroom would definitely be inside it. 

The last few feet to the restaurant were Hell on Avery’s bladder. He knew he was finally close to a toilet, and his body thought that ‘close’ was ‘close enough’. It didn’t care that he wasn’t actually AT that toilet yet. It didn’t care that he was still outside. It didn’t care that his zip was still up. It only cared about how painfully engorged his bladder was, and he began to trickle as they finally entered the restaurant. ‘Toilet! Now!’ he thought hazily. ‘Please!’ He barely registered the way the hostess stared at him as she led them to a table, but there was no doubt that she WAS staring. Of course she was, he was practically pissing his pants right in front of her… ‘Where’s the bathroom?!’ His brain screamed as he looked all around the dining area, his vision was cloudy and blurred from the tears he wasn’t allowing to fall. ‘Please!? I need it now!’ 

Only Lydia actually took a seat, Brad stayed up and pressed a hand gently to Avery’s back. “Okay, bud,” he said. “Let’s get you where you need to be…” 

Avery no longer had the energy to expend on feeling embarrassed as his uncle guided him towards the restrooms like he was a little kid. All of his focus and strength needed to go towards holding it in these final few steps. With as foggy as his brain and vision had become, he probably wouldn’t have found the toilets tucked away out of sight back here by himself, he’d NEEDED someone to direct him… 

And he needed someone to get the door for him, because his hands refused to budge out from between his legs. And he… 

He needed someone he trusted WITH him because this restroom was CROWDED and that made him feel VERY antsy! Most of the urinals were taken, every stall was locked, two people were at the sinks… 

Wha— What did everyone see when they looked at him?! Did they see he belonged here? Did they— Did they— Ohhhh, he didn’t even CARE anymore! He had to go too bad to wonder about what other people thought of him! It didn’t matter! If anyone WAS looking at him, probably the only thing they were thinking was ‘Holy SHIT, that guy’s really about to burst, isn’t he!?’ and maybe not even that! 

He just… Had to… He scurried for the urinals, yanking his zip down the whole way. The only available one was between two people, which freaked him out. There weren’t even any of those privacy divider things here, which REALLY freaked him out— What if someone glanced at his junk and thought it looked weird, if they could tell that it wasn’t EXACTLY the same color as the rest of his skin, or noticed how wide the urethral opening was, or thought that the way he held it in his hands was abnormal, or— 

Ohhh, for God’s sake, he didn’t care! If anyone peeked for so long that they picked up on any of that, then they were just a huge creep, and Uncle Brad would slap them upside the head so hard that their grandchildren would feel it! In all likelihood, no one was GOING to peek at him to start with! It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was— Was pulling out his cock, taking aim and— 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…… 

And… And… going… 

All that mattered right now was finally, finally going… 

Oh, God… He couldn’t hold it… He couldn’t hold it even one more second… This felt so good, this was bliss… His pee was striking the urinal with such a thunderous, roaring hiss that he swore it overpowered the sound of everyone else’s streams, and… And it just felt so good to let go… “Ohhhh, fuck yes…” he murmured softly, allowing his eyes to go partway shut, only keeping them open a tiny crack so he could keep watching what he was doing, so he could keep watching as sixteen hours worth of piss flowed out of him at last… 

Brad had been extremely concerned the second they’d walked in here, fully expecting Avery to panic and insist he could keep waiting until the room emptied out more and felt safer. When he saw that the only available place for Avery to void was right between two men that were significantly taller than him and with no privacy guards, he expected Avery to be so intimidated and nervous that he forced himself to wait for one of the stalls instead. 

Then, when he saw Avery just… Run right up to the urinal anyway, Brad relaxed. He was even a little proud, he knew how scary this was for his nephew. To expose his prosthetic without so much as a flimsy divider blocking anyone’s view, that took a lot of confidence and bravery…

And then he heard Avery groan… Those… Words; “Ohhhh, fuck yes…” Brad had overheard Avery mumbling things like that in the restroom at home when he’d been having an emergency. It was actually sort of funny that he’d moan such silly things to himself while peeing. But, Brad hadn’t known he did that while out in public as well. 

Did Avery actually REALIZE he was saying that stuff, or did it just sorta slip out without his notice? Probably the latter, Brad decided. Avery was such a shy, introverted person, after all. It was unlike him to knowingly call attention to himself while he was urinating. That actually made it a little funnier, when Avery’s bladder control broke, so too did his control over his mouth. 

Once one of the urinals beside Avery opened up, Brad took it. He did sort of need to go, and he knew it would look weird if he just kept standing around until Avery finished… Which certainly looked like it was going to take a while. Many times, Brad had been terribly alarmed by how copiously Avery peed, and this was no exception. Brad couldn’t recall ever being able to hold as much in as Avery regularly did. He’d waited too long today. He waited too long all of the time… 

Of course, there were times like yesterday on the bus where Avery HAD to wait and had no other option aside from just wetting his pants. But, then there were times where Avery should have been able to go, but somehow convinced himself that he NEEDED to just hold it. Brad knew that his nephew was anxious, but he had so few ideas of how to make that better. He could be there for Avery, he was ALWAYS there for Avery, and he did his best to get him to understand that it was fine to need things and to ask for them… But, Avery never seemed to stop viewing himself as an inconvenient burden that should ignore his own needs because he just THOUGHT other people would want him to. 

The LAST thing Brad wanted Avery to do was put off his needs until he was in pain. He was certain that was the last thing Lydia wanted for him as well! 

By the time Brad had finished peeing, Avery STILL wasn’t done, and that REALLY worried Brad. He’d started going well after Avery had, and now that he was empty, Avery’s stream was continuing to gush as strongly as ever. Brad was even starting to wonder if it was possible to overflow a urinal. 

Avery was actually wondering that as well. He must have been going for over a minute by now, at least, and he still felt a bit of pressure in there… Several seconds later, his release finally began to slow down, and Avery’s body began to really shudder… But, not in a bad way. It felt really, REALLY good, good enough to make him gasp out another moan. 

At last, he was empty, and he zipped himself back up. His legs felt like jelly as he stumbled away from the urinals. He could hardly believe he’d actually made that… It had been so close! And, he was stunned he’d actually worked up the courage to let it flow right between two people! He’d just needed to go so badly that he’d hardly even thought about it! 

After he’d washed his hands, Brad whispered to him that a stall was open now. Avery was confused at first, then remembered he was still supposed to unzip his binder for a few minutes now. He headed into the stall to do that. He reached underneath his shirt and undid the zip. There was a rush of relief as his skin was given a chance to breathe once more, but he tried not to look down. 

Outside, Brad struggled to come up with how to discuss this problem with Avery again. It seemed that no matter how many times he said “Avery, it’s really FINE, just tell me when you need something, it’s not a problem!” it wouldn’t sink in. Avery would keep on doubting himself, he’d keep on forcing himself to suffer for no real reason. And, clearly, all the times he’d gotten severely desperate for a pee break hadn’t been enough to convince him that it was ALWAYS okay to tell someone when he was having an emergency… 

Avery returned several minutes later, and the two left the restroom. They went back to the table where Lydia was waiting for them. Glasses of water had been set at each place. Avery’s throat was actually very dry, but instead of sipping from his drink, he just looked at it warily. He wasn’t eager to start pumping his bladder full of liquids again so soon after it had just nearly exploded. 

Beside him, Lydia whispered; “Are you okay, Avery?” 

“Thirsty…” Avery admitted. “But, I… Don’t wanna…” 

“Avery,” Uncle Brad said. “If you are thirsty, you should drink. Please, you need to take care of your body.” 

Avery didn’t WANT to take care of his body. It was nothing but trouble, and he hated it! If his body WASN’T wrong, then he wouldn’t have to be scared of Liam and of strangers. His parents would love him. He wouldn’t have ever gone to that stupid phony therapy center. He wouldn’t have night terrors. He wouldn’t be afraid of everything. His body had caused all of those things to happen.

Still, Avery drank his water, and his throat felt much better. 

Later, back at the hotel, Brad again took Avery into the stairwell so they would have some privacy to talk. ‘Take care of your body’ was the main message Brad wanted to get across to him, and ‘my body is my enemy’ was what Avery tried to explain. 

“Avery… Bud,” Brad said. “All of those things? Your parents, the bullies, that torture center? Your body didn’t cause ANY of them. Cruel people did. There are some people who are awful, you’ve just unfortunately had to meet a lot of them. But, that’s not the fault of you or your body, You are not the problem, those people are. You just need… You need to focus on the good people, okay?” 

“But, I’m scared if I do something wrong, the good people will leave…” 

“If someone leaves you for needing to pee, they aren’t a good person,” Brad said. “I would never leave you for that. Lydia wouldn’t, either. It’s okay, I promise.”

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  • 4 months later...

Written for the Omovember prompt "On Public Transportation". 

(Kinda light on the desperation through part of this one, mainly some backstory for Avery to help set up for a chapter coming later this month.)

*** 

Avery had been having a nice day. He and Lydia had gone out to get some pizza, and Avery had enjoyed several delicious slices as well as a bottle of cola. He liked the restaurant Lydia had chosen, especially when he saw the toilets there were gender neutral. Even though he only sort of needed a pee at that point, he decided that it would be best to relieve himself before they left. 

But, the cola still hadn’t filtered through him at that time, there was more liquid that his body was going to want to expel soon… And it just HAD to decide it was time to do that when the subway ground to a random, screeching halt in the middle of his journey home. 

Avery winced hard as the jerking below his feet made his urinary sphincters flare. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

Before Lydia could answer him, an announcement from overhead did it for her. The train conductor informed all of the passengers that they were delayed because… A group of chicken were walking along the rail. 

What. 

“Is… Is that a joke?” Avery asked. 

“Probably not,” Lydia said. “This has happened a few times. Usually, animal control will come and take care of it.” 

“Random chickens just wander around on the tracks often?” 

“Well, not chickens,” Lydia admitted. “I think it’s mostly raccoons.” 

Avery bounced his knees. “A—And how long do the delays usually last?” 

“It shouldn’t be that long,” Lydia assured. “Just… However long it takes them to grab the chickens.” 

Avery nodded. He hoped she was right, now that he’d NOTICED his need for a bathroom, it was getting worse a lot faster. ‘Ugh. I shouldn’t have gotten a drink with caffeine,’ he thought, swinging his feet out before pulling them back in, trying to distract his body from the pressure inside of it. ‘That stuff always goes straight through me…’ 

His fidgeting was doing very little to get his mind off of peeing. He didn’t have much else to focus on, his phone’s battery had died earlier in the day, and he didn’t have any other form of entertainment with him. Plus, they were underground, even looking out the window didn’t provide him with anything new to focus his brain on. 

Boredom always seemed to give his body a megaphone, with nothing else to think about, any discomforts he may have felt would inevitably amplify. And, his bladder was feeling really uncomfortable right about then. He leaned forward and back as he waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Half an hour ticked by, and Avery was getting a lot more antsy. He supposed the worst part of all this was how he didn’t have any way to find out how much longer he was going to have to wait. The uncertainty was making his bladder spasm. If someone told him that the train would get moving again in twenty minutes, then he wouldn’t have a problem… 

His fingers were curling tightly against the edge of his seat as his feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. He just wished he had something to look at, something to draw his attention… This would be so much easier if he could only get himself to stop THINKING about it! He sighed, exhaling a long breath that only made him more aware of how taut the skin around his bladder was growing. “How much longer?” 

“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “Guess the chickens are hard to catch. But, it shouldn’t be THAT much longer. Don’t worry, you won’t have to try going to sleep down here.” 

Sleeping was the least of Avery’s concerns. His bladder had gotten him pretty alert. He kept shifting his hips, grinding himself against his seat. He tried to imagine himself somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t so boring. He pictured himself at Coney Island with Lydia… They’d gone there a couple times together, and those trips had been lots of fun. Lydia was scared of heights, so Avery had ridden the rollercoaster on his own, but they’d been side by side for the entire rest of the day. 

Well. Except for the couple minutes Avery had spent in the restroom. Avery had waited a bit too long that day, he’d been having too much fun to stop and go pee. Then, when he went on the rollercoaster for the third time, his bladder punished him for ignoring it. Every tilt and change in gravity, the way too fast motion, his bladder screamed and seared at all of it, demanding relief. The instant he was off the ride, he was babbling to Lydia, “I gotta— I need to go now, okay? B—Be right back!” and running to the toilets as fast as he could for a VERY relieving pee. 

Now, Avery tensed his thighs as he sat on the subway, his fantasy had done nothing to quell the surges rippling inside his bladder. He tipped his head back, staring up at the dull grey ceiling of the train car. He kicked his feet out again, hurriedly pulling them back in close. He did this a few more times. It didn’t help. 

He tried to come up with a new imaginary scenario, tried to name all the places he’d rather be spending his time right now. ‘The movie theater would be fun… I like Times Square too, dunno why Lydia hates it… Oh, and the park is cool, and— Ah, the bathroom at the restaurant you were just in was nice, you should have stayed there longer, you should have known you were gonna need to go again after the caffeine!’ 

He shook his head back and forth, as if it were an etch-a-sketch and he could erase the thoughts he didn’t like from it. ‘Mmmf, stop thinking about that! There are way cooler places than bathrooms! Like, that skyscraper Lydia likes so much, that place is neat! Isn’t it weird how the only toilets you’re allowed to use are on one floor close to the top? It’s so big, I KNOW there are more in there, but you have to go to, like, the 86th floor or something if you need to—‘ 

‘STOP IT,’ Avery pleaded with himself. But, it was too late, his bladder had taken complete control over his brain, and the more he tried to shut it up, the louder it got. He crossed his legs and jiggled in his seat, balling his hands into fists uselessly. “Lydia, how much longer?” he asked again. He knew he was whining, but he was seriously losing his patience!

“Avery, I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long this time. Are you bored?” 

“Yes, but…” Avery flinched. He lowered his voice. “Um… I also have to use the restroom.” 

“Didn’t you go before we left?” Lydia asked. 

She hadn’t meant to do it, but calling attention to the fact that he was bursting to pee after having just used the toilet not too long ago really embarrassed him. Plus, she’d said that much too loudly. Everyone on their car probably heard it nice and clearly! “I did,” he whispered. “I just gotta go again. Bad.” 

“Well…We can find you a place to go as soon as we’re out of here,” Lydia promised. 

Avery’s knees knocked together as he fought not to ask, yet again, how much longer that was going to take. ‘She doesn’t know,’ he kept scolding himself. ‘Just hold it.’ 

His bladder argued with him that he SHOULDN’T hold it. It tried to persuade him to ask Lydia for a bottle, to stand in the corner and urinate into it, to get the relief that it wanted so much. He did his best to ignore those pleas, doing that would be utterly wrong. There was no way he could get away with it without EVERYONE in the train car knowing EXACTLY what he was doing. 

So, as uncomfortable as it was, he HAD to hold it in. “Lydia?” he asked. “Could you… Um… Distract me somehow? I don’t have my phone, and… Like, ALL I can think about right now is… You know…” 

So, Lydia tried her best to take Avery’s mind off of his bladder. She talked to him about sky-scrapers, and about hockey, but Avery’s one-track brain managed to bring BOTH of those back to the subject of peeing. Sky-scrapers would have TONS of toilets, so many that nobody would ever have to wait in line if they really had to go! 

And, the last time he went to a hockey game with Lydia, he’d gotten a tad desperate, and the trough urinal had SERIOUSLY freaked him out. There were no partitions, and everyone was just kinda… Crowded around it with very little personal space. Avery had approached it, hand at his zipper, then he felt a flash of anxiety so intense that his chest had felt like it was going to explode even faster than his bladder was. The panic had caused a spurt to leak into his pants, but he’d also frozen in place, unable to go use the thing that would let him get relief. 

He’d ducked his head and gone towards the stalls instead, jiggling in place as he waited for one to open. He was sure he couldn’t have been the only guy there who thought the trough was too freaky to use, so other people must have been using the stalls just to pee, too. Hopefully that meant his wait wouldn’t be TOO long. 

A stall became available right away and Avery rushed into it. He remembered feeling a silly bit of anxiety THEN too, and for some reason leaving the door to his stall OPEN while he urinated made him feel a fresh wave of confidence in himself. 

“I— I don’t know why that made me feel better,” Avery said now. “It just did.” 

Lydia stared at him, “Um… You wanted me to make you think of something OTHER than peeing, right?” 

“Y—Yeah…” Avery nervously tugged at his hat with one hand as the other anxiously tapped atop his jiggling knee. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I can’t STOP thinking about it!” 

“Um… Okay,” Lydia tried to come up with something that Avery couldn’t POSSIBLY connect to urinating. But, if so much as mentioning a place that had a toilet was enough to do that, that would be hard. Most places in the city HAD toilets, after all. Sometimes they’d be out of order, or so grody they were unusable, but they still at least EXISTED. 

Lydia HAD left the city a few times… To go to a DIFFERENT huge city where her Dad was filming something for his TV show. So, telling Avery about those trips could inadvertently remind him of peeing, too. 

Avery DIDN’T always live here though, and from the way he talked about being in the city, it was a major adjustment for him. He’d grown up pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so that meant he must have gone to plenty of places that didn’t have indoor plumbing or toilets. “Uh… What was it like where you grew up?” she asked. 

“Well, i—it wasn’t like here,” Avery said, bouncing his knees and rocking forward and back. “I had to get up super early just to catch the bus to school because we lived so far away from it. Imagine having to get up at 4AM every single day.” 

“Ouch…” 

“I was the first one getting picked up, and I’d be riding on that thing for four hours while the driver got everyone else. Once I was so groggy and tired that I forgot to—“ Avery stopped himself. “I forgot to… Do something really important before I got on the bus for the long ride. And then I was real uncomfortable until I got to school.” 

“Avery…” Lydia said.

“I know, I’m trying!” Avery complained. “Maybe if I…” he brought his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked them beneath his body, rocking firmly against his feet. “O—Okay, this helps some…” He clenched his eyes shut and took some steadying breaths. The nerve-endings around his urethra continued to flare as they fought against the heavy weight pressing down on them. “S—So, yeah. Gotta get up at 4AM every day for school. Sometimes I’d try and sleep on the bus, and normally I’d be able to do that for at least a little bit, but…” He hesitated. 

“What?” 

“Uh… You know how Lawrence is?” Avery asked. 

“Of course.” 

“Well… Um… Up here, it’s like… Like, a lot of people don’t act the same way Lawrence does. I mean, SOME do, but it’s not… Well, where I come from, basically EVERYBODY acted like Lawrence. All the other kids at school, all the teachers, the guidance counsellor… My… Um… Well, anyway, when the other kids started getting on the bus, they were… Not nice to me. They called me awful things, sometimes they’d hit me and stuff… The bus driver never told them to stop. He even encouraged it. All the adults at school encouraged it… I would go to a teacher or somebody and ask for help, I’d say, like ‘Colby hit me in the jaw and now I lost my tooth.’ And I’d get ‘You need to stop drawing all this attention to yourself. If you got a boyfriend, all this teasing would stop. And, it was just a baby tooth. Suck it up.’” 

“Someone knocked out your tooth?” Lydia asked, shocked. She’d had a tooth knocked out once when she was ten, but that was during a hockey game and it had been a complete accident. The person that had slammed into her too hard apologized, the coach had gotten her ice to help with the pain, and a few months later her new tooth grew in just fine. 

“Yeah, that happened a few times. And not just baby ones,” Avery opened his mouth really wide. Lydia looked inside and saw that one of his bottom teeth way in the back was gone, just a gap left in its place. “I hadn’t even— I hadn’t come out or anything yet back then,” he added. “I was still pretending to be a girl, I still… Had the long hair and all that. But, everyone could just… Tell that something was ‘off’ about me. And they didn’t like it… So I didn’t like it, either. I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, just that it must have been something bad, and that if I made ‘it’ go away, my life would be better. I’d have friends, and my parents would stop being ashamed of me.” 

“Could your parents tell before you… Told them?” Lydia asked. 

“Not exactly, I don’t think the people at school knew exactly what was going on, either,” Avery said. “But, my parents knew SOMETHING was different, and it made them angry. An—Another thing, back where I used to live, it was super popular to make your daughters do these beauty pageant things. They’re awful, you have to dress up in these ridiculous frilly outfits, and dance around for some judges— It’s honestly kinda creepy when you think about it. I never even really figured out exactly WHAT we were getting judged ON, but whatever it was must have been something that I was AWFUL at because I always got last place. Eventually, my parents started getting really angry every time I came in last. Apparently I didn’t ‘walk like a lady’, whatever that even means.” 

“Did you ever get to do anything fun back there?” 

Avery leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He winced, being reminded of his CURRENT problem when he felt his skin grow taut around his midsection. He shifted in his seat a little, now sitting on top of his OTHER foot. For some reason, that felt like an improvement. “Well, I liked to just… Wander around the farm some. My parents’ farm was really big, you could explore there for hours almost. And, I liked the cows. And the chickens. They were nice. But…” 

“But…?” 

“I didn’t… Realize what was happening to them until I got older,” Avery explained. “Or, maybe I did, but I just didn’t really ‘get’ it. Just, some days I’d go to see the animals and find one missing. I either thought, or just pretended to myself, that it must have run away. But, then my Dad said he was going to take me hunting. And, at first I was happy, because all the boys where I lived went hunting with their dads, so I thought ‘Oh, he figured it out without me having to say it!’ And, I figured the hunting would help me feel more like a man… And instead… I— I did shoot the gun, I did shoot… A deer. And I didn’t feel like a man. I felt like I’d just killed a defenseless animal for no reason.” 

“So, that’s how you realized what was happening to the farm animals?” 

“Not exactly…” Avery said. “That night, Mom made meatloaf and… Suddenly I couldn’t make myself eat it. I’d never really understood until right then that all the meat used to be something alive, and I just… Couldn’t eat it. I tried, but it got stuck in my mouth and I couldn’t swallow it. I told my parents I didn’t think I could eat animals anymore because it made me feel bad. And they were angry. They said so long as I lived under their roof, I was going to do everything the way they wanted. So, if they said I was eating meat, I was going to eat meat. My Dad told me ‘You’re eleven fucking years old. You don’t make decisions about your life. That’s my job.’ And he hit me. So, I tried to eat the meatloaf, and all I could see was the look in that deer’s eyes as I shot it because my Dad had told me to, because I thought doing that would somehow make me a ‘real’ man. And… I threw up. All over the table. So Dad hit me more, and he shouted about how meat was how we afforded a place to live, and I guess that’s when it finally clicked where all the animals kept disappearing to.” 

“That’s really terrible,” Lydia said. “They were really controlling, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “They controlled everything.” He switched his feet around again, dug his fists down on top of his knees as he rocked. “They literally called me their ‘property’ a bunch of times when I was a kid. They acted like they were joking, but they weren’t because that’s actually how they saw me. Only places I could get away from them were at school—but then I’d just have to deal with even more people just like them— or outside on the farm— but that was less fun when I realized what was happening to the animals.” 

“What about your room?” Lydia asked. 

“That’s…” Avery shifted around once more, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was down to his bladder or just because he was having a difficult time speaking about these things. Either way, he couldn’t stay still at all anymore. “Well, when I was I think around seven years old, I woke up one morning and the door was stuck. Like, the lock got twisted on its own, so I couldn’t—“ 

“Did you not know how to unlock it?” 

“I did, but the thing was, my Dad switched the knob around on my door so that he could lock me in if I did something wrong,” Avery stated. There was something very disturbing about the way he’d said it, like he was describing the fact that grass was green, something completely normal and expected. “But… Uh, anyway, since it was first thing in the morning, and it was the weekend and I’d gotten to sleep in, I had to… Go. A lot. Like, as bad as I gotta go right now. So, I started pounding on the door and yelling for help, which got my parents furious because I’d woken them up.” 

“Did they let you out?” Lydia really hoped so. She was trying so hard to distract him, but so far all she was doing was making him think of really awful, sad things.

“So, yeah, something was actually wrong with the lock, when Dad switched the knob around something came out of place and so the lock was just stuck at that point. And, he started trying to take it apart, and I asked him, you know, ‘Please hurry, I really have to use the bathroom, I can’t hold it.’ And, for some reason that got him angrier, and he yelled at me. ‘If you wanna complain, fix it yourself.’ And he just walked away. And, I couldn’t fix it, I didn’t have the tools for that, I didn’t know how… And I peed on the floor after a while. Cried a lot, and Dad ended up breaking the door down to yell at me to shut up and punish me for wetting the carpet. After that, he said I wasn’t responsible enough to have a door for my room, so he took it off the hinges and he never got another one. So, I never had privacy if I was in the house after that. I asked for a door lots of times, and my Dad got super mad because I’d called it ‘my room’. He explained that he owned the house, so it wasn’t my room and I didn’t deserve any privacy if I was in someone else’s house. 

“But, because I asked for a door, he figured that meant I was hiding something, so he tore apart my room looking for… I don’t know, maybe drugs, I guess. He didn’t find any, of course. But, I guess he was determined to find SOMETHING he could punish me for, because when he finally accepted that I didn’t have drugs, he found my journal. I still didn’t know I was… Me yet back then. So, there was nothing in there about that, there was some stuff about how I was confused and felt bad, but that was all, it was super vague because I just didn’t know. But, the thing was, I wasn’t supposed to have a journal AT ALL, because that would mean I was keeping secrets and being dishonest and stuff. So he was mad that it was even in the room. He read, like, the first page, which I swear was just something I’d learned about pufferfish, and he lost it. He tore the thing to complete shreds. I was finding pieces of the paper around the room for years afterwards, that’s how many tiny bits he broke it up into.” 

“Do you have a new journal now?” 

Avery shook his head. “Nope, I never really thought about getting another. I liked having it, but… It was dumb to leave my thoughts laying around where someone could see them.” 

“I think you’d like to have another one,” Lydia said. 

“Maybe,” Avery said. “I mean, if I had one right NOW I’d probably just write page after page of ‘I really need to pee’, so nothing TOO deep, right?” 

“Still have to go?” 

Avery shrugged, “Nah, the pee just evaporated. It was quite miraculous.” A sharp pinch at his urethral opening made him dearly wish that that was true. 

Lydia frowned, “I— I’m sorry, that was silly—“ 

“It’s fine,” Avery said. “I think this has distracted me some. Almost. I hadn’t really thought about all the stuff they did to me growing up, I usually only think about the… The ‘big thing’ that they did to me.” 

“The…” Lydia trailed off. She wasn’t sure what to call the place Avery had been sent to. It was CALLED a therapy center, but there wasn’t any therapy taking place inside it, so the name was wrong. “The place they made you go to?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “It’s weird, some days I remember EVERYTHING about that place, like the way it smelled and how many tiles were on the ceiling in certain rooms. And, other days it’s like it’s all blocked out, just this blank, foggy space… Except, I always remember the room with the shock chair, and the tiny isolation room, too,” Avery placed his feet back onto the ground, suddenly scrunching up super tightly on himself wasn’t helping his bladder feel better anymore. “I wish that I didn’t. Like, if there was some kinda machine that could zap memories out of your brain forever, I’d pay all of my life savings to be able to use it.” 

His feet tapped against the ground, he wanted to stop thinking about the isolation room, but now he could only think about IT and about needing to pee. And about all the times he’d needed to pee while inside of IT. His breathing was picking up, chest tightening and, along with it, his bladder was cramping in on itself too, making him feel all the more desperate to go.

Lydia heard his breathing starting to accelerate, and knew that was a bad sign since he was just SITTING there, squirming about. “What’s your favorite memory?” she asked. “One that you wouldn’t want to have zapped away?” 

“When Uncle Brad got me,” Avery answered immediately. He hadn’t needed even one second to think it over. It was no contest. He tensed his thighs as a new wave of pressure soared up in his bladder, but his breathing was becoming more even again. “He’s never said what he did to get my parents to tell him where I was, but… He did it. And then he flew all the way across the world to come get me. When they told me someone was there to see me, I thought my parents had changed their minds or something, so I expected to see them and I was just scared. But, when I saw it was Uncle Brad, I just started to cry because it seemed too good to be real. He actually ran to me and hugged me, and it was the first time I’d had someone touch me in a way that didn’t hurt in a real long time. It was the first I’d felt like someone loved me, and I couldn’t stop crying. 

“But, he was also looking me over a lot. I had bruises everywhere, and there were burn marks in a lot of places too, and I… I only weighed, like, eighty pounds by that point so I was, like, skeletal. They didn’t feed us much, and towards the end I wasn’t keeping much down anyway. Uncle Brad sort of just lost it and, you know, he’s a lawyer… So, he was just shouting at them that they either had to let him take me home or he’d ‘rain Holy Hell down on them’. He also used a bunch of legal words I didn’t really understand. I don’t know if the people at the center knew what any of it meant, either, but it got them to listen to him. He was able to take me away from there. And that was, like, the first time I’d even been outside in months, and that made me cry too. 

“He asked me what I wanted to do, kept talking about finding me some food… But, like, they made me wear this hideous dress covered in ruffles and bows— The sort of thing I wouldn’t wear even if I WAS a girl— and so the first thing I wanted was to take the stupid thing OFF. He’d actually expected that, so he brought me back to his rented car and had me change into something he’d bought for me, but he was upset by how loose the clothes were on me and how much weight I’d lost, so he really wanted to get me some food. He took me to the airport to bring me home and got me lots to eat there. Airport food’s usually gross, but it tasted super good that day because I hadn’t eaten much for so long.

“I was super clingy to Brad the whole time we were going home, and the flight was super long, and… Well, since I didn’t want to leave his side even when we were on the plane, I… Ended up… Holding it.” 

That was the only part of the rescue that hadn’t felt wonderful to Avery. He knew deep down that he was safe once he’d gotten on the plane, that there was no possible way someone could pop out and drag him back to Hell just because he’d walked too far away from Brad. Except, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the danger was still there. He’d spent so long being tense and scared that he didn’t know how to feel safe anymore unless someone was there to protect him. 

So, when all the big sodas he’d guzzled at the airport started to hit his bladder, he held it. And the flight just went on and on. Avery still didn’t know exactly WHERE the conversion center was located, just that it wasn’t in the United States. He had no idea how far away he was from his home country, how long he’d be stuck holding in his pee. 

The most annoying thing was that he could see the bathroom from his seat, he was just too scared to move and go use it. He’d crossed his legs tightly and stared out the window, but there wasn’t much to see out there. 

“When I get you home, we can get your hair cut if you’d like,” Brad had offered. 

Avery nodded. He WOULD like that a lot. His long hair drove him crazy, it was always in the way. For a while, he managed to distract himself by picturing how he’d look once it was fixed. 

“And, I’ve been doing research. I can buy you something to help with your chest,” Brad had added. “I haven’t gotten anything yet because I didn’t know what size to pick, but I’ve got you other things. You’ll see, the spare room in my apartment is yours now. It’s a bit of a mess, but I tried to find stuff you’d like. Got you some clothes. I know you like fish, so there’s an aquarium— But there aren’t any fish in there yet, you’ll have to come with me to pick some ou—“ 

“Wait,” Avery interrupted. “I thought you were taking me back to my parents’ place.” 


Brad frowned. He went quiet for a second. “Bud, um… I’m sure this isn’t going to make you feel very good. I’m sorry. But, the only time you’re going to see your parents after this is in court.” 

“What?” 

“They…” Brad ran a hand through his hair. There was really no good way to say something like this. “When I got them to tell me where you were, when I said I was getting you out, they said… That if you are going to live your life this way, they don’t…” 

“They don’t want to be a part of it,” Avery finished for him, voice dull. He’d expected that. He’d also expected that hearing it be confirmed would make him cry. But, it didn’t for some reason. He didn’t feel like crying. His parents may have been readying themselves to formally disown him, but the reality was that they’d disowned him a very long time ago. This wasn’t a big change. 

“I’m sorry,” Brad told him. “I… Don’t know what happened to my brother. I’ve spent years trying to figure it out. But, I promise, I’ll do everything I can to be the parent that you deserve to have.” 

Avery nodded. Uncle Brad had always been kind to him. Uncle Brad had saved him. He was already doing a better job than his birth parents had. 

The flight had continued to wear on, and Avery was getting very uncomfortable. It was hard to sit still for so many long hours, particularly after chugging four large sodas. He’d grown very twitchy, shimmying against his seat and clenching his fingers tightly against the armrests as his knees bounced. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Brad told him. “You’re safe now.” 

Avery repeated that to himself. He was safe now, so it was okay to detach himself from his uncle for a couple minutes so he could use the toilet. But, he couldn’t make his legs move. They just buzzed with tension and anxiety and stayed glued to their places. He heard the seatbelt lights ding and hoped that meant they were landing. He was excited to see the room Uncle Brad had made for him, but he was far more excited to see the toilet in the apartment first. 

The only issue was that putting the tight strap of the seatbelt across his stomach really upset his poor bladder. At least they were landing… It was almost over. 

To his immense dismay, he learned a few seconds later that they WEREN’T actually landing. Instead, the plane hit a patch of turbulence, jolting up and down and side to side. The movement sent immediate waves of pain through Avery’s bladder, creating even more awful pressure inside it. His legs and abdominal muscles clenched so tightly that his thighs shook. He kept glancing ahead, looking longingly at the door to the toilet. But, now that he had to stay seated, he couldn’t get up and go there even if he suddenly felt brave enough to do it. 

The turbulence stopped after about twenty minutes, and the seatbelt lights switched off. Avery was crossing his legs and bouncing up and down, hoping and praying that they would actually be landing soon. “H—How much l—longer?” Avery winced out. 

“We’re a really long way from home,” Uncle Brad said. “It’s gonna be a few more hours…” 

The thought of hours squeezed a fist around Avery’s bladder with fear. He couldn’t wait hours. He had to go NOW. 

Brad was quiet for a second. “Bud… All that shaking made me need to use the restroom,” he said. “You should go now too, since I’m getting up.” 

Avery relaxed immediately. He could stay close to Brad AND relieve himself. He nodded quickly. “Um… Y—Yeah. I have to go a lot all of the sudden. The…Um… The bumps did it.” 

Avery knew Brad could tell he’d been needing to go for a long time, especially when they got to the restroom and Brad insisted that Avery should use it first. But, he didn’t care. He was about to feel so much better, and then he’d be able to focus just on how happy he was to have gotten away from that terrible place. 

Avery sat on the toilet and peed for what felt like ages, feeling so much better, so much more at ease, he felt safe and loved for the first time in so long. As he’d gushed, the exhaustion of the last several months, during which he’d barely ever managed to get a full night’s sleep, finally hit him and he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

Now, stuck on the subway, remembering all that, Avery fanned his legs in and out and bounced them up and down so quickly that his ankles started to go numb. None of it helped. “Wh—Why c—can’t subway trains have toilets on them, too?” he asked Lydia. “Planes have th—them!” 

“Well, normally you aren’t on the subway that long,” Lydia pointed out. 

Avery whimpered, shifting his hips as he tightened his hands into fists so hard that his knuckles whitened. “They should still put some on the trains, for when they get stuck like this,” he said. He needed the bathroom so much by that point that he felt like he was going to squirm out of his skin. 

Lydia felt more than a little defeated. All her attempts at distraction had either dredged up awful memories for Avery, or caused him to circle back around to his all-consuming urge to urinate. She tried to think of a NEW topic, but she’d talked about all her favorite things, and learned more about Avery’s past already. 

Right. She’d talked about HER favorite things. She’d talked about skyscrapers and sports. She should have been talking to Avery about things HE liked. Although, Avery’s favorite subject was fish… Would a topic so tied to water really be a good thing to focus on right now? “Um… Why do you like fish so much?” she asked. 

Avery tapped his foot harshly against the ground. “Because they’re always… They st—stay together. They don’t leave each other out, or abandon one another. It’s just an ins—instinct for them to stay in large groups so they can help each other stay safe, or find food or swim better. And they wa—watch each other, too, so that their group doesn’t get separated.” 

“Oh…” Lydia said. “Do you have—“ 

Before she could finish her next question, there was an announcement overhead. The issue with the chickens had been resolved and the train was able to start moving again. 

“Ohhhh, thank God…” Avery murmured. “Finally!” But, when the train DID begin to move, Avery realized he’d celebrated a bit too soon. The sudden jolting and vibration beneath his feet was not helping him, even the knowledge that relief was getting closer and closer wasn’t particularly helpful. He didn’t want to be peeing ten minutes from now, he wanted to be peeing right this second! 

He just had to hold on a little bit longer, just a tiny bit more and the awful pressure would be able to fade. The train turned slightly, and Avery’s urine followed the movement, pushing itself even harder against his urethral opening. He braced himself as the train started to slow down, as this happened Avery felt like he was being pulled forwards and he tensed himself up hard. He just couldn’t handle much more pressure on his bladder! He felt like he was going to pee himself if the vibrations didn’t end! He squirmed and tightened himself so much that he was suddenly completely out of his seat. 

On his feet now, a barrage of pressure slammed into him with so much force that he grabbed himself. His muscles were twitching from the effort required to keep his pee at bay. His sphincters were weakening, so exhausted. He wanted to let them relax, if only for a second. That would feel so, so good… 

No, he had to hold on. He’d held it through the entire delay, no way was he losing it now! But, it felt like his urine had a mind of its own and was actually trying to form an escape plan to get away from the horrific pressure being placed onto it. His bladder was twisting around inside his gut, trying to squeeze the urine right out of him whether he wanted it out or not. 

“Nnnnnhh!!” Avery winced out involuntarily, expression twisting from the torment. 

“Almost, Avery…” Lydia said. “You can do it!” 

Avery froze, feeling a burning heat trail up his neck and across his face. “Oh, God… You’re pep-talking me!” 

“I— I know you can make it!” Lydia carried on. “You’re really close!” 

Avery was jiggling up and down, his hands digging between his thighs, and when the train finally stopped and the doors slid open, Avery’s bladder felt like it was twisting around again. He tensed each and every muscle inside his body, but could feel urine pulsing hard against his opening. ‘Hold it, hold it, you can find a toilet now!’ he kept reminding himself as he nervously and slowly hobbled for the doorway. 

His legs were crossed so tightly that he could barely walk, and he knew everyone could see that his hands were pressed into his crotch, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to somewhere that he could find relief. 

Lydia followed after him, and as soon as he was out of the train, he was so doubled over that it was a fight not to collapse completely onto his knees. Lydia saw his shirt ride up a little, and her eyes widened when she realized there was a foreign bit of distention in his lower belly now. “Lydia,” he said. “Please tell me this station is one that has a bathroom. I don’t care how gross it is, I just… Don’t wanna climb stairs right now.” 

Lydia shook her head sympathetically. “Th—There isn’t one here, but right up the stairs, as soon as you turn left, there’s a pharmacy and you’ll be able to go there.” 

Avery didn’t know if he could make it up the stairs. He really, really, really didn’t. Any second now, he was sure pee was going to be pulsing to the ground below him. He was squeezing himself for all he was worth, but could still feel a few leaks trickling down his legs. 

Seconds pass and, somehow, Avery managed to quell his leakage enough to start walking again. He was bent over at the waist, but he was at least able to move. 

“A—And,” Lydia said. “If it’s— If you don’t make it, that will be okay.” 

Avery cringed. He HAD to make it. He absolutely HAD to! But, if he didn’t, he knew Lydia wouldn’t make fun of him. Lydia would probably find him something to cover up with, too. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if— 

Gah! What the Hell was he thinking!? But, it was too late, after just the mildest suggestion that relief was acceptable, his bladder twisted itself up yet again and a very long spurt of urine forced its way into his clothes with an audible hiss. “Ack— Hurry!”” Avery stammered, and his tiny, careful steps transformed into frantic, heedless running. Every harsh step sent a new thrash of need through his bladder, caused more liquid to trickle forth out of it. But, Avery couldn’t afford to move slowly anymore, he needed to get to a toilet as soon as humanly possible or he’d explode and drench himself for sure. 

He made it to the stairs and came to a sudden stop, doubling over with his hands between his legs. He bounced his weight from one foot to the other, trying to force himself to take the first step. 

Lydia caught up to him. “Avery, are you—“ 

“I— I can’t—“ Avery whimpered. All he wanted was to let go and end his torment! “The stairs…” He tried to explain. “I’m going to pee…” 

Lydia glanced all around. There were lots of people, there were always lots of people… Avery looked really, really far gone, though. “Um… Uh…” she lowered her voice. “If you… Can’t make it up the stai—“ 

“I don’t want to pee myself,” Avery winced, a protesting jet of pee pulsing out to remind him that he’d ALREADY started to do that. 

“I wasn’t— Look, it’s… If you… Pee into a trash can down here, or on a wall, you wouldn’t be the first person to do that.” 

“But… What if— I don’t wanna get arrested!” 

“Even IF you get caught, you don’t go to jail for that,” Lydia said. “They count it as littering. You’d get a fine, I think it’s like one hundred dollars. No jail time, I don’t even think they’d really keep a record of it, either.” 

Avery nodded. He was so desperate that he thought it would be worth losing a hundred dollars if it meant he’d get to go… And besides, Brad was a lawyer, and he’d mentioned something called a ‘necessity defense’ before, where someone commits a crime due to an emergency circumstance. This probably counted, right? He was having a MAJOR emergency, after all! “Okay,” he said. “I can’t— I’ll burst if I go up the stairs.” 

Lydia looked around, found a darker area and took Avery that direction. “Just… Pretend you’re looking at your phone, and be really quiet, and maybe nobody will even be able to tell what you’re doing,” she said softly. “I’ll try and block the view of you too.” 

Avery’s hands were trembling as he unzipped his pants and aimed at the wall. For the first few seconds, nothing happened. The station was bustling, and he felt like he was on a stage. He felt like everyone was watching and knew exactly what he was about to do. 

But, ultimately, Avery had to pee much too badly for his nervousness to lock him up for that long. Soon enough, the walls of his aching bladder were squeezing together and liquid was being pumped out of him. Avery’s ears burned, hyper-aware of the hissing and splattering noise his release made. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Just… Letting it out inside a busy subway station. What if there was a cop or a security guard watching? What if he got a fine? What if Lydia was wrong and he really WOULD go to jail for this? Would Brad be able to help then? 

Avery was so nervous about these things that he didn’t feel much relief. He was more focused on just getting all of this pee OUT of him as fast as he could before anyone caught on to what he was doing. If he could just get himself nice and empty, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. He gritted his teeth as he pushed down, trying to pee quickly, yet not SO quickly that he overflowed the STP and just wound up wetting his pants anyway. 

He remembered Lydia telling him to pretend he was just looking at his phone, but he knew the way he was standing— legs apart, head bowed, hands around his front— was a pretty clear indication that he was actually peeing— Even if nobody was close enough to see or hear the thin, clear stream still jetting out of his body. Avery felt so self conscious right now that it was almost like he was watching himself from outside of his own body. 

After another few seconds, he wondered if he should just clamp it off. He’d gotten some of it out, so maybe he could make it up the stairs to a proper toilet now. But, when he tried to interrupt his stream, his bladder just gave a lurching shudder that caused him to void even more strongly. He couldn’t stop going. He was gonna be stuck here, feeling anxious, until he was fully drained. 

He shut his eyes, hoping that might calm him down a bit. He could still hear the bustling of people and the screeching of the trains, but he couldn’t see the wall in front of him anymore. That helped him focus a little more on the sensations of his poor bladder slowly shrinking down as his liquid sprayed out. Wow, that felt good… He actually had to gnash his teeth a bit to keep from making any noises of relief. 

It took over a minute for his stream to start winding down, and then another five seconds before he was finally finished. He shook out the STP and zipped himself up, opening his eyes and turning, dreading what he’d see. But, there were no cops, no security officers, no disgusted strangers staring at him. Just his friend still vigilantly keeping watch. “O—Okay, I’m done now,” he whispered. “Did anyone see?” 


“I don’t think so,” Lydia said. 

Avery heaved a very long overdue sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. “Ahhhh… Good. Thank you so much.”

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  • 4 weeks later...

Written for the Omovember prompt "Dressed As The Opposite Sex". 

This one is dark. Warnings for conversion therapy, transphobia, deadnaming, abuse, and self-harm.

***

The isolation room was the second worst place in the conversion therapy center. Second worst only because nothing could ever outdo the shock chair. In the isolation room, Avery was forced to lay facedown on a dirty, ice-cold concrete floor twenty-four hours a day, save for a few brief respites. 

Every twelve hours, one of his ‘therapists’ would silently escort him to the restroom, then Avery would be allowed to sit on the toilet for no longer than two minutes and do whatever he needed to do. He would not be permitted to shut the door, but the ‘therapist’ would face away from him. When this was first explained to him, it was in a tone that suggested he should feel grateful that they weren’t going to full-on stare at him the entire time he relieved himself. 

After the toilet break, he would be sat down at a vacant table and given a tray. The tray always held the same things; half of a peeled orange and a thin slice of cheese wedged between two slices of bread. This would be all of the food he received each day that he was in isolation— Which was only slightly less than he got normally at this center. His stomach clawed at him nonstop, he’d never been so hungry before in his life. 

They’d give him water during his ‘meals’ as well, a big bottle of it. Avery would always drink it all just to try and make his stomach feel less empty. He’d always regret it. 

If Avery spoke at any point during his time outside the isolation room, he would be sent right back inside. If he hadn’t peed or eaten yet before breaking the silence rule, he would have to wait until his next break for another chance to do those things. 

This hadn’t been explained to him the very first time he’d been placed in isolation. The door had opened, a woman gestured for him to stand up and come outside. Avery, whom had been wriggling desperately for the last two hours, eagerly struggled to his feet. He naively assumed his punishment was over and begged for the bathroom straight away. “May I please, please use the toilet now, please? I really need to go!” 

The woman had then shaken her head and ordered him to lay back down on the ground. “You aren’t supposed to speak when you’re in isolation,” she informed briskly. “Clearly you need more time before we give you a break.” 

Avery’s eyes had welled up then as he heard the door slam shut and lock. Soon enough, he’d made a puddle on the floor, and was forced to lay in it for the next twelve hours as his empty stomach pleaded for food. He stayed quiet the next time the door was opened, and this time the woman sneered at him “Once your punishment is over, you’re cleaning this whole room from top to bottom. Look at yourself, Brittney. You’re disgusting.” 

Somehow, being called ‘Brittney’ hurt a billion times worse than being called ‘disgusting’. 

Avery had felt incredibly disgusting, following after the woman to the restroom that he was once more desperate to use, his damp underwear coldly clinging to him. He’d sat himself on the toilet and released his poor bladder, sniffling and fighting not to cry. 

He was then given his food, which he finished in under a minute. Then the water, which ensured he’d be dying to pee yet again soon enough. To his dismay, he was not given a change of clothes, just placed back into the empty room still wearing his soaked, sticky ones. He didn’t care that he’d pissed all over the ugly-ass dress he was being forced to wear, but he DID care that he was being forced to continue stewing in his own waste. 

Avery’s first stint in isolation lasted for a week. He wasn’t allowed clean clothes until he was finally released, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to wash himself until then either. He wet himself a few more times over the course of those days, too. Twelve hours was just too long for him, and sometimes they’d ‘forget’ that it was his break time and leave him in even longer. By the end of it, he reeked of urine and sweat, his eyes were sunken in, his face was pale, and he’d lost five pounds. 

After his first stint in isolation, Avery tried his best not to get sent back in. The problem was, he could be sent to isolation for anything.

Sometimes, the ‘therapists’ asked Avery lots of questions about why he’d ‘chosen’ to do something that hurt his parents and would damn him to Hell. He learned very early on not to argue with them about how being trans hadn’t been a choice that he’d made, but none of the other answers he came up with were ever satisfactory either. Saying “It was wrong of me, I will try harder to stop being this way,” which was what he’d been SURE they’d wanted to hear, still got him slapped and called names. He tried throwing out line after line, hoping he’d hit upon something that made them stop, but it never did. Before long, they’d grown fed up with it and tossed him back into isolation for the next week. 

Another time, Avery had woken up in his bed in the middle of the night and just begun uncontrollably sobbing. He didn’t even really know why. But, crying and making noise in the night wasn’t allowed in the therapy center, so he was dragged from his bed and into the isolation room still wearing the stupid, frilly nightgown they’d given him. 

What had gotten him sent to isolation this time was ‘fighting’. But, Avery wasn’t sure if that was the right word for what he’d done. His ‘therapists’ had brought him back into the room where the shock chair was and he’d just… Broken down at the sight of it. He couldn’t fully remember what all had happened, just that he’d screamed enough that now his throat ached, and that it had ended with him being held down by two of the buffer ‘therapists’ before being dragged to isolation. 

He laid on the floor now like he was supposed to, his body shaking so hard it was vibrating against the cold ground. He could hardly breathe; shortness of breath had become a common thing for him lately. Sometimes he’d just start hyperventilating at complete random. It was like an asthma attack, except Avery didn’t have asthma… 

Tears were going down his face, but he cried so often now that he barely noticed them. He knew the point of isolation was, allegedly, for him to think long and hard about why he’d been sent to this center, and that was what he tried to do whenever he was in here. Avery had always thought his parents were wrong for sending him away, and that the people here were monsters. But, the longer he endured the ‘treatment’, the more convinced he became that HE was the real monster, that he really did have to be fixed. 

When these thoughts creeped in, Avery tried to shut them out. He hadn’t done anything wrong. All he wanted was to be himself. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? He stared at the blank wall in front of him, eyes darting from it to all the others, and to the heavy, locked metal door. He was trapped in this room, but even after someone came and released him, he’d still be just as trapped. There was no escape from this place. None at all. The door that led outside was secured with a special code that only the ‘therapists’ knew. Avery hadn’t been outdoors since the day he’d arrived here. He hadn’t felt the sun in so long. 

There weren’t many windows in this building, but from what Avery could see, it looked like this place was located in a forest. Even if he managed to guess the code and run outside, he’d just get lost in an unfamiliar place, no doubt found by one of his jailers before long. He didn’t even want to think about what his punishment would be after that. 

Avery felt like he’d been here for half his life, though he knew that couldn’t have been true. He had no idea when he’d be released. Or even IF he would be released. He’d asked a few times how long he had until he could go home, but he’d never gotten an answer. For all he knew, he would be spending the rest of his life here. 

More tears. There was nothing Avery had to look forward to anymore, every day was going to be the same. Painful, humiliating, and filled with people hellbent on destroying him. He already felt destroyed. He had no love for himself anymore, only hatred. He had no love for anyone else, either. His parents had done this to him, the people he’d thought would always take care of him. How could he ever trust another person now? 

There was only one person Avery still had any confidence in; His Uncle Brad who lived in New York City. He’d been emailing Brad a lot up until his parents had him shipped off here. Avery had had no idea he was being sent away and so hadn’t mentioned it in his emails. Uncle Brad might have been worried about him when the correspondence suddenly stopped, especially since so many of the previous messages had been about how scared Avery had been of his parents since he’d come out to them. Uncle Brad must have had some idea that something bad had happened. 

Sometimes, in isolation, Avery would fantasize to himself about Brad somehow learning where he was and coming to free him. Brad would hold him close then and promise to never let anyone hurt him ever again. Brad would say the same things he’d said in the emails ‘You can be whoever you want, Avery. No one gets to decide that for you.’ Brad would take him away from here, and buy him a really big dinner, so Avery could stuff himself until he finally felt full instead of listless and empty. Brad would let him sleep in a nice, warm bed that felt safe. Brad would let Avery cry, and wouldn’t beat him or lock him up for it. 

Sometimes, Avery would imagine these things so intensely that he’d manage to convince himself they were real, only for something to bring him back to the reality that he was just laying on the cold, hard floor, awaiting his next punishment. 

The thing that brought him back to the reality of his situation today was something that had done it many times in the past; His bladder. It was really starting to fill up. For a bit, he tried to distract himself with more fantasies of freedom, but before long all of his pretend scenarios involved Uncle Brad breaking him out of here and rushing him very, VERY quickly to a toilet before doing anything else. 

He wriggled his hips, cringing at the way the ruffles in his dress felt against them. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. If they HAD to force him to wear a dress, why did it have to be such a hideous, frilly one? Even most of the girls he knew back home didn’t wear ridiculous crap like this… He understood the clothing was just one more punishment they’d chosen to inflict on him, but he had to wonder if they honestly thought it was going to accomplish anything; If they seriously believed that by stuffing him into over-the-top girly outfits they’d succeed in turning him into a girl. 

Avery didn’t know if his ‘therapists’ seriously believed any of their methods would actually change a person. Being subjected to physical pain over and over again wasn’t going to cause some massive, cosmic change in who a person was, it was just going to hurt them. Avery suspected that ‘hurting people’ was really the only actual goal the ‘therapists’ had here. They probably knew they weren’t ‘curing’ anybody, they just liked to make them suffer. 

Laying on top of his stomach for long stretches of time always made Avery’s body start to ache and fill with pins and needles. It was worse when his bladder was throbbing; so much of his weight ended up pressing down against it, mashing the organ between his body and the concrete below him. 

Avery rolled over onto his side instead, trying to give his bladder more space. He was going to have to keep an ear out for the door beginning to open. If they found him not laying in the proper position, he’d be denied his toilet break and food. For whatever reason, turning over and finding himself staring at an identical, blank white wall made his heartbeat start to ramp up. He squeezed his eyes tightly trying to block out the sight. 

‘Go somewhere better,’ Avery told himself. He used to be better at doing that. He used to have an easier time mentally transporting himself away from this place. It was so hard to do that now. His memories of what laid outside this center were fading rapidly, becoming blurry and hard to see, like they belonged to someone else entirely. Avery didn’t understand why that was happening. Surely, he was way too young to be having such major memory problems. 

Now, Avery focused really, really hard on remembering the last time he and his parents had visited Uncle Brad in New York. That had been a lot of fun, until something had happened that made Dad and Uncle Brad have a really huge fight. Avery wasn’t sure what had prompted that and, while he didn’t have a brother, he didn’t think that if he did he’d be able to call him the kinds of things Dad had called Uncle Brad that day… 

‘Forget that part,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘Think about the good stuff.’ His bladder pulsed and he thrusted his his hands between his trembling thighs, gritting his teeth. ‘I really need to— Don’t think about that, either. Pretend that you don’t have to pee.’ He knew that was easier said than done, especially with how poorly his imagination was working right now. ‘Think about— Oh, when Uncle Brad showed you and your parents the big zoo…’ 

Avery focused really, really hard, trying to remember how the air had smelled that day, what the temperature had been like, how windy it had been. ‘You’re there, you’re there, you’re there…’ he chanted in his mind, and it started to actually work. He was with his uncle, who loved him and would keep him safe. He was in New York City, where there weren’t any isolation rooms or shock chairs. He was at the zoo, where there were cute animals instead of people asking him impossible questions and beating him for giving the wrong answers.

He tried to repeat that day inside his head, it had been before the big fight between Dad and Brad, but Brad had been tense anyway when he’d stood beside Avery as he’d watched a polar bear playing with a hunk of ice. Avery had been started at first when Brad leaned down really close to him. “Brittney…?” Brad had said in a low tone. Avery still hadn’t told anyone his new name yet— Or why he was going to NEED a new name. He’d been meaning to do it soon, but he was so scared… 

“Hm?” Avery had asked. 

“Do you… Feel safe at home?” Brad whispered. “Everything okay?” 

Avery didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t feel safe at home, even though he knew he was supposed to. A few months ago, he’d looked up stuff about being trans online. His parents had found his search history, had demanded to know why he was looking at ‘that filth’, asked who was ‘grooming’ him, said a bunch of other stuff that Avery barely understood… They weren’t going to react very well whenever he finally told them, he was sure of that… “Um…” Avery winced at the sound of the polar bear dropping the ice into its pond, suddenly hit by the realization that he’d had two big cups of soda since the last time he’d peed. “I… I feel… Uh…” 

“If… If there’s anything you need to tell me, you can, alright?” Brad whispered. 

“I… I need to pee…” Avery answered, even though he knew that wasn’t what Brad was concerned with. 

Brad grinned and laughed slightly. “Okay, let’s find you somewhere to do that, then.” 

It was easy to find the toilets, but when Brad stood beside them to wait, Avery hesitated. His bladder throbbed and pulsed, protesting the delay when he was so close to relief. Public bathrooms had always made Avery feel weird. He’d check the signs over and over before opening one of the doors. Then, once he was in the women’s room, he’d have to sort of… Stare at himself in the mirror and repeat to himself that this was where he was supposed to be. Nevertheless, there was always this feeling that he was breaking a rule by being inside a girls’ bathroom. It had ALWAYS been that way, ever since he was little. It was just, now he understood WHY. 

“Go ahead,” Brad said to him. “I’ll wait.” 

Avery listened and entered the women’s room. He knew that holding it for much longer would get risky. And his hair was so long, because his parents insisted he keep it that way. His chest was… There. Everyone saw a girl when they looked at him. 

He kept his head down as he made his way to a stall, briefly looking at his reflection as he passed the mirrors. ‘You’re not breaking a rule,’ he told himself, just as he had every time he needed to pee in public. Inside the stall, he pulled down his pants and sat. His discomfort grew when he heard two other people come in, in the midst of a conversation. The first woman was saying something about the date she was on, and Avery felt like he was intruding on her privacy. 

He squirmed uncomfortably on the toilet seat when, as the ladies’ conversation continued, his bladder decided that it was time to get some major stage-fright. He heard some other stalls being locked, followed by two streams hissing into the toilets. Avery blushed hard, he’d never stop feeling like a perverted peeper in these situations… But, the trickling was enough of a taunt on his own bladder that it unclenched and allowed its contents to gush out of him. He pushed down as hard as he could, trying to finish as fast as possible. Avery could pee really, really fast when he wanted to. And when he was sitting inside a stall in a public women’s room, feeling like a major creep, he ALWAYS wanted to pee fast. 

In spite of all the negative emotions, it did feel good to get all this liquid out of his body. He had needed this… He’d needed it so much… He— 

In the isolation room, Avery’s eyes popped back open to the awful realization that he wasn’t on the toilet, peeing. He was on the floor, trying to HOLD it. At some point during his daydreaming, his hands had begun to squeeze between his legs. He supposed the only GOOD thing about the dress was how firmly he could dig his hands up against himself when he didn’t have pants in the way of them. ‘Oh my God…’ Avery thought miserably. ‘Fuck, I need a freaking piss…’ 

He tried to estimate how long he’d been in here, how much time he had left to wait until someone would bring him to the toilet and finally allow him to go. But, that was completely unpredictable. Time moved really, really strangely in Isolation, he had no idea how long it had been since his punishment began, no idea when that door may open and grant him some much needed relief.

Odds were, however long he had left to wait was a lot longer than he could actually hold it. His eyes opened once more and, just as he had many times before, he found himself staring at one corner of the room, the one furthest from where he had to lay down. Like he did every time he got stuck here, he began to fantasize about squatting in that corner and peeing. He imagined the loud, satisfying hiss as he desecrated the ground below him. He imagined how wonderful the shrinking of his bladder would feel. He imagined letting out a nice moan. He imagined pissing all over this Hellish place, drowning it in urine since that was the only tool he had to punish it with. 

But, as ever, he then imagined what was sure to happen next. When that door opened, and the massive puddle he’d created was spotted right away. He would be called disgusting again. He would be hit. He would be denied food. Once his bladder re-filled, he’d be made to hold it even longer, and God help him if he used the corner again or peed in his clothes. 

The corner was not the answer, as much as he wished it could be. Avery wriggled and writhed, twisting back and forth and back and forth… His hands kneaded against his groin and he just… He just wanted to use the toilet! Once again, he was crying. He just wanted to pee! That was all he wanted! He wasn’t even allowed such a basic, simple thing! He’d been deemed unworthy of even that! 

He felt ridiculous, trying so hard not to pee all over clothes that he HATED. The only reason he didn’t just piss them deliberately out of malice and a desire to rid of himself of the awful pressure was because he didn’t want to be forced to SIT in his mess for a whole week again. Except, if that door didn’t open soon he wasn’t going to have a choice in whether or not these clothes were soiled. 

Yet another thing he didn’t get to choose. Avery couldn’t have any choices, couldn’t make any decisions for himself. Other people made them for him, and severely punished him if he tried to do anything else. 

There he went crying again. He wished he could stop. But, apparently he couldn’t hold in liquid from any part of his body. Tears streamed down his face, and a blast of pee seeped out into his clothes. He felt the warmth clinging to his thighs, and it made him cry more. He was revolting, he was a mistake. It was his own fault he was in here. He shouldn’t have come out to his parents. He knew they weren’t going to be happy, and while he couldn’t have predicted they’d do something THIS extreme to punish him, he should have known it was going to end badly. He should have just kept pretending for them, should have just dropped out of school early and gotten a job so he could move away from them and live his life the way he had to. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t be here. 

He would give anything to not be here anymore. Maybe everyone was right, and he just hadn’t put in enough ‘effort’ towards being a girl. He hadn’t tried hard enough. He could be a girl if it got him out of here. He could just… Find some way to stop feeling things. Find some way to switch all his emotions off, until he felt absolutely nothing. So long as everyone else was happy with him, it shouldn’t have mattered how he felt anyway. The ‘therapists’ had told him over and over that his insistence that he was ‘just trying to be himself’ came from a place of utter selfishness and lack of care for the feelings of others. Maybe they were right. 

‘You’re a selfish, pointless waste of life,’ Avery thought to himself, repeating what he’d heard hundreds of times. ‘Your existence is revolting, and it destroyed your family. Are you proud of yourself for that? No? Well then why won’t you put the work in to fix it?’ 

Tears were collecting on the ground beneath his head. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t even have the energy to blink them. Every few seconds, a hissing noise filled the room as tiny squirts of pee spurted out of him. He didn’t think he cared about that, either. 

‘When you get out of this room, you’re going to try to behave,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘You’ll figure out the right answers to those questions, and even if you can’t, you won’t cry when they hit you for it. When they take you to the shock chair, just sit down and take it, no more fighting. It’s what you need. Then, when they finally let you out, you’re going to wear nothing but dresses, paint your face with make-up until you’re beautiful. You’re never going to study fish again, because ‘marine biologist’ is no job for a sweet lady like you. No job is. Just find a husband and make all the babies you can. It’s what you’re made for. When you go home, you should thank your parents for teaching you this. Then, maybe one day you’ll be an actual human and not a…’ 

Avery was full-blown sobbing now, each heave shaking the walls of his aching bladder and causing him to void even more strongly into his clothes. He began to speak out loud, not even realizing he’d done so. “You’re not a person. You don’t deserve to call yourself a person. You’re an inhuman, disgusting pile of shit that’s lucky it hasn’t been beaten to death yet like it deserves. You’re… You’re a sick, pervert, getting off on the idea of tricking people into thinking you’re something you can never be. You’re just a brainwashed, confused little girl in need of fixing!” He had no idea he was shouting until spit flew from his mouth. He had no idea how much he’d peed until he sat up and felt his underpants squishing below him. In spite of how soaked he already was, he still felt close to exploding if he didn’t get to the toilet soon. 

He started to slap himself in the face, hard. Over and over, screaming vicious things at himself, repeating every horrid thing anyone had ever said about him, until he was laying back down on the ground, his face even more bruised than before and his thighs clammy and sticky from all his leaking. There was a big puddle on the ground below him, he’d utterly drenched the floor. 

His bladder was still so full, though. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…” Avery whimpered into the silence. “I want to… I don’t want to be alive.” He shouldn’t have been alive, he didn’t think. That was what everyone always said. He didn’t deserve a life. 

He gave up then, he just didn’t care about anything anymore. Who cared if the ‘therapists’ made fun of him when they found him sobbing and soaked in piss? Who cared if he had to sit in that piss for the next several days? All of that was what he deserved. He deserved humiliation and suffering. He was unworthy of ever being happy. 

Avery let go, his bladder immediately splitting apart and releasing a major gush that added to the dampness coating Avery’s body and the lake forming on the ground. He peed hard and fast, but felt no relief. He was getting so wet that his legs squished with every tiny movement, and the entirety of the floor was now covered in pee. The water-level in the room started to rise and rise, until the pee was nearly up to Avery’s nose. Still, he wasn’t done. And still, he felt no relief. If anything, his urge was just getting worse by the second. ‘Make it stop!’ his brain screamed. ‘Make it all just stop!’ 

Avery woke up. 

He blinked several times. 

He was not in the isolation room. He was not wearing a dress. He was not violently wetting himself.

He was in his bedroom at Uncle Brad’s place, right where he belonged. He was wearing his own pajamas, the ones he LIKED. He was… Holding what felt like at least fifty gallons of boiling hot piss. 

His arms jerked with the urge to grip himself, but he realized a moment later that he already WAS. His hands had become plugs at some point during his nightmare… ‘Nightmare… That’s…’ That was unusual, typically when he dreamed about conversion therapy, he was always fully AWARE that he was stuck in a nightmare, that he shouldn’t be there anymore, that the events shouldn’t have been repeating. But, this time he hadn’t had that awareness, he’d been utterly convinced he was trapped again, with no memory of his rescue and new life. 

Did that mean the dreams— and whatever it was in his head that was causing them— were getting even worse? 

His bladder pulsed and he felt heat bloom against his hands. Avery could try to figure out what was going on in his brain later, that was too hard to deal with right now. However, he KNEW exactly what was going on in his bladder, and that THAT issue had a simple remedy. He sat up further, and the waistband of his pajama pants started to CRUSH into his bladder. “Ohhh—!” he yelped, probably too loudly for the middle of the night. He hadn’t been able to help it! It had surprised him too much! 

He turned to the side of his bed, feeling his pee slosh harshly against his opening. He lowered a foot to the floor, then the other one, and— 

HSSSS! 

The second he started to actually stand, he was peeing. Hurriedly, he collapsed back onto his bed, tucked his feet underneath himself and rocked and rocked and rocked to make himself stop. He did manage to cease the flow, but now he had a bigger issue. 

He finally woke up from a nightmare in time to avoid wetting his sheets, but now he was going to pee them anyway because he was so full he couldn’t stand! That was so unfair!

All of it was unfair! He shouldn’t be having nightmares that made him pee himself! He shouldn’t have so many bad, scary feelings all the time! He shouldn’t have been sent to that place! He’d done nothing to deserve it! Memories from his dream, ones unrelated to the desperate need to empty his bladder, flooded back to him.

Most of what had happened in the dream had been real. He had freaked out when brought to the shock chair and been put in isolation as punishment. He had gotten very desperate to pee while in there. He had broken down and begun to scream at himself and smack his face. He had ultimately had an accident before he was given a toilet break. The only part that HADN’T actually happened was that, in real life, he hadn’t pissed so much that he’d created a literal flood. 

No, in real life, he’d only peed out enough to make a big puddle below himself, then one of the ‘therapists’ had found him like that, called him disgusting before slamming the door shut once more. Avery, whom had needed to go pee AGAIN by then, filled with disappointment when he realized that, by having an accident, he’d forfeited his right to a toilet break, and likely to food as well. He wet himself twice more before he finally ‘earned’ a break to use the toilet and, as ever, he was made to sit in those wet clothes for an entire week until he was released from isolation. 

The memory of that horrid week— Of those horrid MONTHS he’d been imprisoned for no decent reason— mixed with the pain in his bladder and the hopelessness he felt since he couldn’t even stand and walk to the toilet. Before he knew it, he was crying just as he’d done in his dream. Much like his dreams, his sobs shook the walls of his annoyed bladder and made him start to lose little droplets into his pants. ‘Just let it all go,’ he told himself. ‘Get it over with. You can’t make it.’ 

It just wasn’t that easy to urinate in one’s clothes on purpose, even if they were as desperate as Avery was. Years and years of conditioning had made his body dead-set on not letting itself pee if his clothes were in the way of the stream. 

Avery didn’t realize how loudly he was crying until his bedroom door cracked open. “Avery…?” Uncle Brad whispered, coming to his side. “Did you have another bad dream?” 

Avery whimpered as he nodded, “I—I didn’t mean to w—wake you up…” 

Brad rubbed a hand against Avery’s shoulder, “It’s okay… You…You were hurt a lot, Avery. You’ve earned the right to cry…” He sat down on Avery’s bed, unknowingly jostling his nephew’s overflowing bladder in the process. 

“Ooohhh…” Avery groaned, tensing his thighs and tightening his grip. “I—“ 

“What was the dream about? Would it feel better if you talked about it?” 

“It… It was about the isolation room,” Avery said, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if talking about it would make him feel all that better THIS time. The longer Brad stayed in here, the more likely it was he’d bear witness to Avery drenching himself when his bladder finally burst. “This one time where I… I went crazy. I started hitting myself, and screaming at myself, because… I don’t know, I guess just hearing… Hearing people say it to me all the time, it all got stuck inside my head.” 

Brad nodded. He knew Avery had a history of self-harm. He’d caught Avery hurting himself a few times, it had been a horrifying thing to see. There was a reason Brad kept the razors in a lockbox now. When Brad quit smoking, it had been to get all of the lighters out of the apartment.“None of those things they said about you were true. You are not disgusting.” 

Avery winced, shifting in his place. Would Uncle Brad say the same thing when he peed everywhere in a few minutes? 

“You are not sick,” Uncle Brad added. “The people who did those things to you, they were the sick ones. You’re a kind young man. Even after everything you’ve been through, you’re nothing but nice to everyone. You—… Hey, don’t be so tense, it’s over. You’re safe now, I’m never going to let anybody hurt you ever again, I promise.” Brad stroked Avery’s back, feeling the heavy tension there. “Relax, or at least try to… It’s—“ 

“I c—can’t,” Avery stammered. “If I relax, I’ll… Um… Anoth—Another part of the dream— When I was in isolation, I wasn’t allowed toilet breaks very much and I always had to go bad. Sometimes I’d have accidents and they’d make me lay in it, and—” 

“It’s… Okay if you got the sheets wet,” Brad assured. “I’ll get you some new pants, it’s—“ 

“N—No, I didn’t wet the bed this time,” Avery interrupted, nearly doubling over on himself. That was a bad idea, however, as now his body weight was basically folding his bladder in half. Instead, he laid backwards and stared at the ceiling, desperate to give it more space, however there didn’t seem to be any space LEFT in Avery’s body, his pee had to come out now! “I… I just…. Can’t hold it…” 

“Oh,” Brad said. “You mean you have to go NOW. Well, we can talk more in a minu—“ 

Avery shook his head frantically, “I can’t stand up. I have to… I have to go SO bad that I start peeing if I try to get up. I can’t make it.” 

“Okay…” Uncle Brad told him. “It’s alright, I’ll… Hold on.” He stood and left the room. Avery initially thought he was just giving him some privacy so he could have his inevitable accident, but he came back a minute later, carrying an empty bottle that used to contain a sports drink. “Got this back out of the trash,” he said. “Will it wor—“ 

“Yes,” Avery said eagerly. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything as badly as he wanted that bottle. He’d fallen asleep with his prosthetic on, so he’d have no issue using it, either. 

Uncle Brad sat beside him again and handed him the bottle. Avery unscrewed the cap, and then… There were problems. The STP worked best if he was actually standing, otherwise the cup was tilted wrong and he’d have a spill. “I… I have to get up…” he mumbled, trying to figure out the right way to do this that would result in the smallest amount of pee coming out before he was ready. He came up with it pretty fast and was a little proud of himself for thinking so quickly when his bladder was searing. “T—Turn around,” he said. 

Brad did, and Avery unbuttoned his pajama pants and pulled his dick out, then put the opening of the bottle in place below it. He knew he was going to burst the second he was on his feet, but this way it would all be flowing where he wanted it to go. He shut his eyes as he got ready to stand, seeing his dick aimed into a bottle was a bit of a mindscrew— His eyes were telling him it was safe to pee, but inside he knew that everything wasn’t lined up right just yet. He got up as fast as he dared, one hand pushing the cup of his STP firmly against himself. He felt himself peeing before he was all the way stood, and felt a little sliding out the back of the cup and warming his pants. 

Finally, he had everything right where he needed it, and he didn’t have to TELL himself to start pissing, because he was already gushing like crazy. Urine hissed and spattered into the plastic bottle, and Avery sighed gently, “Haaahhhh… That’s beautiful…” he mumbled to himself. He felt the bottle growing warm and heavy as he pumped it full of his piss, and for a wonderful moment he was lost in his relief. 

But, the bottle started to get REALLY heavy, and then Brad was saying, “H—Hold on, too much!” 

It took Avery a minute to register all of that, but when he felt pee coating his hands as it overflowed from the bottle, he cringed, squeezed his thighs, and cut off his flow. His bladder pounded and swelled, utterly enraged at having its relief taken away early. 

Frantically, Avery set the bottle down on his nightstand, accidentally spilling some onto the surface, before he took off from his room. He’d let a lot of the excess pressure out— Enough that he could move without pissing— But, he didn’t feel like he had much time before his interrupted stream resumed with or without his consent. He dashed to the toilet— and thank God the lid and seat were both up already! He aimed for the bowl, instantly unleashing the remainder of his piss. “Ahhhhhhh….” 

Avery moaned so loudly now that Brad could hear him all the way back in his room. Brad’s stomach twisted. According to the label, the bottle Avery had just OVERFLOWED held twenty ounces. Avery had pissed out over twenty ounces of liquid and he STILL hadn’t been finished!? 

Brad struggled to remember his high school biology class. How much was a bladder SUPPOSED to hold? He thought it was probably slightly UNDER twenty ounces, right? Avery managing to fill that bottle beyond its capacity and have even more pee left to expel couldn’t have been healthy at all… 

‘He should have woken up to pee before now,’ Brad thought. ‘Is he just a heavy sleeper, or was his nightmare that strong, or what?’ 

Brad had a feeling he knew why Avery’s bladder was larger than average, and why he held in so much so often. He’d thought for the longest time that Avery held it JUST because public toilets scared him, or JUST because he was embarrassed to say he had to go. But, something Avery had said tonight got to Brad, the thing about not being let out of isolation to pee and then having to sit in the mess when he didn’t make it. 

Avery’s bladder had been brutally and harshly TRAINED to hold way more fluid than a person ever SHOULD. His bladder had obviously gotten strong because of that, but Brad was concerned he was going to hurt himself if he didn’t start emptying it more often. His full bladder really SHOULD have woken him up sooner tonight, the fact that it didn’t wasn’t a good sign. 

Avery returned to his room about half a minute after he’d left. He collapsed limply on his bed, looking very loose compared to his earlier rigidity. “Ahhh…” he breathed out again. “Man, did I need THAT…” 

Brad held Avery’s hand, “Okay now?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “Thank you for the bottle, definitely would have peed all over the place without it.” 

“Avery, did you remember to go before bed?” 

“Yes,” Avery said. “I can’t sleep if I don’t pee first. Especially if I drink a lot at dinner.” 

Brad thought about that. They’d eaten a pretty salty dinner, Avery had had a ton of water. So, that would explain why he’d gotten so full… “I want you to try to remember to go a little more often, okay?” 

“I go when I have to,” Avery shrugged. 

“You hold it an awful lot, too,” Brad reminded. “Almost every time I see you come home from somewhere, you are squirming and rushing to the toilet.” 

“Well, at school, that’s because of Liam—“ 

“Your principal told me that you are free to use his restroom whenever you need to go,” Brad said. “Have you been doing that?” 

“No,” Avery admitted. “Usually, I just— I hold it at school in case—“ 

“You have somewhere safe to pee, Avery. You don’t have to hold it like that. It’s really not good for you.” 

“I… I don’t wanna bother the principal every time I need to pee.” 

Brad sighed. He understood— he REALLY did. He understood why Avery felt so much like a burden on everyone. His self-esteem had been crushed to bits in the conversion therapy center, he felt somehow ‘unworthy’ of everybody around him. Understanding it didn’t make it hurt any less to see Avery constantly put himself down and inconvenience himself because he thought it was what everyone wanted. If anything, knowing WHY Avery thought so lowly of himself only made it more painful to witness. “Avery, you aren’t bothering him. I promise. He’s called me several times, asking me to REMIND you because HE sees you fidgeting around in the halls all the time.” 

Avery blushed. He hadn’t realized how obvious his daily pee-dances must have been to everybody… 

“I want you to TRY to pee at least once every three hours, alright? I think the isolation room may have damaged your bladder a little bit, you should have woken up to go before it was practically coming out of you.” 

Avery blushed harder. But, he nodded. Truthfully, he couldn’t understand why his urge hadn’t gotten him up faster than that. Maybe the painfully long holds in the isolation room, not to mention how often he forced himself to hold it now, HAD all effected his body. He teared up again, he hadn’t ever considered that the full bladders he’d been made to endure at that awful place had damaged anything, but Uncle Brad did… 

His uncle really cared about him… 

“Um…” Avery fidgeted. “I…. Thank you for taking care of me, and being so nice… I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Uncle Brad said. “I’ll always be here, I’m going to be the parent you deserve, I promise.”

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5 hours ago, secretomoact said:

Written for the Omovember prompt "Dressed As The Opposite Sex". 

This one is dark. Warnings for conversion therapy, transphobia, deadnaming, abuse, and self-harm.

***

The isolation room was the second worst place in the conversion therapy center. Second worst only because nothing could ever outdo the shock chair. In the isolation room, Avery was forced to lay facedown on a dirty, ice-cold concrete floor twenty-four hours a day, save for a few brief respites. 

Every twelve hours, one of his ‘therapists’ would silently escort him to the restroom, then Avery would be allowed to sit on the toilet for no longer than two minutes and do whatever he needed to do. He would not be permitted to shut the door, but the ‘therapist’ would face away from him. When this was first explained to him, it was in a tone that suggested he should feel grateful that they weren’t going to full-on stare at him the entire time he relieved himself. 

After the toilet break, he would be sat down at a vacant table and given a tray. The tray always held the same things; half of a peeled orange and a thin slice of cheese wedged between two slices of bread. This would be all of the food he received each day that he was in isolation— Which was only slightly less than he got normally at this center. His stomach clawed at him nonstop, he’d never been so hungry before in his life. 

They’d give him water during his ‘meals’ as well, a big bottle of it. Avery would always drink it all just to try and make his stomach feel less empty. He’d always regret it. 

If Avery spoke at any point during his time outside the isolation room, he would be sent right back inside. If he hadn’t peed or eaten yet before breaking the silence rule, he would have to wait until his next break for another chance to do those things. 

This hadn’t been explained to him the very first time he’d been placed in isolation. The door had opened, a woman gestured for him to stand up and come outside. Avery, whom had been wriggling desperately for the last two hours, eagerly struggled to his feet. He naively assumed his punishment was over and begged for the bathroom straight away. “May I please, please use the toilet now, please? I really need to go!” 

The woman had then shaken her head and ordered him to lay back down on the ground. “You aren’t supposed to speak when you’re in isolation,” she informed briskly. “Clearly you need more time before we give you a break.” 

Avery’s eyes had welled up then as he heard the door slam shut and lock. Soon enough, he’d made a puddle on the floor, and was forced to lay in it for the next twelve hours as his empty stomach pleaded for food. He stayed quiet the next time the door was opened, and this time the woman sneered at him “Once your punishment is over, you’re cleaning this whole room from top to bottom. Look at yourself, Brittney. You’re disgusting.” 

Somehow, being called ‘Brittney’ hurt a billion times worse than being called ‘disgusting’. 

Avery had felt incredibly disgusting, following after the woman to the restroom that he was once more desperate to use, his damp underwear coldly clinging to him. He’d sat himself on the toilet and released his poor bladder, sniffling and fighting not to cry. 

He was then given his food, which he finished in under a minute. Then the water, which ensured he’d be dying to pee yet again soon enough. To his dismay, he was not given a change of clothes, just placed back into the empty room still wearing his soaked, sticky ones. He didn’t care that he’d pissed all over the ugly-ass dress he was being forced to wear, but he DID care that he was being forced to continue stewing in his own waste. 

Avery’s first stint in isolation lasted for a week. He wasn’t allowed clean clothes until he was finally released, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to wash himself until then either. He wet himself a few more times over the course of those days, too. Twelve hours was just too long for him, and sometimes they’d ‘forget’ that it was his break time and leave him in even longer. By the end of it, he reeked of urine and sweat, his eyes were sunken in, his face was pale, and he’d lost five pounds. 

After his first stint in isolation, Avery tried his best not to get sent back in. The problem was, he could be sent to isolation for anything.

Sometimes, the ‘therapists’ asked Avery lots of questions about why he’d ‘chosen’ to do something that hurt his parents and would damn him to Hell. He learned very early on not to argue with them about how being trans hadn’t been a choice that he’d made, but none of the other answers he came up with were ever satisfactory either. Saying “It was wrong of me, I will try harder to stop being this way,” which was what he’d been SURE they’d wanted to hear, still got him slapped and called names. He tried throwing out line after line, hoping he’d hit upon something that made them stop, but it never did. Before long, they’d grown fed up with it and tossed him back into isolation for the next week. 

Another time, Avery had woken up in his bed in the middle of the night and just begun uncontrollably sobbing. He didn’t even really know why. But, crying and making noise in the night wasn’t allowed in the therapy center, so he was dragged from his bed and into the isolation room still wearing the stupid, frilly nightgown they’d given him. 

What had gotten him sent to isolation this time was ‘fighting’. But, Avery wasn’t sure if that was the right word for what he’d done. His ‘therapists’ had brought him back into the room where the shock chair was and he’d just… Broken down at the sight of it. He couldn’t fully remember what all had happened, just that he’d screamed enough that now his throat ached, and that it had ended with him being held down by two of the buffer ‘therapists’ before being dragged to isolation. 

He laid on the floor now like he was supposed to, his body shaking so hard it was vibrating against the cold ground. He could hardly breathe; shortness of breath had become a common thing for him lately. Sometimes he’d just start hyperventilating at complete random. It was like an asthma attack, except Avery didn’t have asthma… 

Tears were going down his face, but he cried so often now that he barely noticed them. He knew the point of isolation was, allegedly, for him to think long and hard about why he’d been sent to this center, and that was what he tried to do whenever he was in here. Avery had always thought his parents were wrong for sending him away, and that the people here were monsters. But, the longer he endured the ‘treatment’, the more convinced he became that HE was the real monster, that he really did have to be fixed. 

When these thoughts creeped in, Avery tried to shut them out. He hadn’t done anything wrong. All he wanted was to be himself. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? He stared at the blank wall in front of him, eyes darting from it to all the others, and to the heavy, locked metal door. He was trapped in this room, but even after someone came and released him, he’d still be just as trapped. There was no escape from this place. None at all. The door that led outside was secured with a special code that only the ‘therapists’ knew. Avery hadn’t been outdoors since the day he’d arrived here. He hadn’t felt the sun in so long. 

There weren’t many windows in this building, but from what Avery could see, it looked like this place was located in a forest. Even if he managed to guess the code and run outside, he’d just get lost in an unfamiliar place, no doubt found by one of his jailers before long. He didn’t even want to think about what his punishment would be after that. 

Avery felt like he’d been here for half his life, though he knew that couldn’t have been true. He had no idea when he’d be released. Or even IF he would be released. He’d asked a few times how long he had until he could go home, but he’d never gotten an answer. For all he knew, he would be spending the rest of his life here. 

More tears. There was nothing Avery had to look forward to anymore, every day was going to be the same. Painful, humiliating, and filled with people hellbent on destroying him. He already felt destroyed. He had no love for himself anymore, only hatred. He had no love for anyone else, either. His parents had done this to him, the people he’d thought would always take care of him. How could he ever trust another person now? 

There was only one person Avery still had any confidence in; His Uncle Brad who lived in New York City. He’d been emailing Brad a lot up until his parents had him shipped off here. Avery had had no idea he was being sent away and so hadn’t mentioned it in his emails. Uncle Brad might have been worried about him when the correspondence suddenly stopped, especially since so many of the previous messages had been about how scared Avery had been of his parents since he’d come out to them. Uncle Brad must have had some idea that something bad had happened. 

Sometimes, in isolation, Avery would fantasize to himself about Brad somehow learning where he was and coming to free him. Brad would hold him close then and promise to never let anyone hurt him ever again. Brad would say the same things he’d said in the emails ‘You can be whoever you want, Avery. No one gets to decide that for you.’ Brad would take him away from here, and buy him a really big dinner, so Avery could stuff himself until he finally felt full instead of listless and empty. Brad would let him sleep in a nice, warm bed that felt safe. Brad would let Avery cry, and wouldn’t beat him or lock him up for it. 

Sometimes, Avery would imagine these things so intensely that he’d manage to convince himself they were real, only for something to bring him back to the reality that he was just laying on the cold, hard floor, awaiting his next punishment. 

The thing that brought him back to the reality of his situation today was something that had done it many times in the past; His bladder. It was really starting to fill up. For a bit, he tried to distract himself with more fantasies of freedom, but before long all of his pretend scenarios involved Uncle Brad breaking him out of here and rushing him very, VERY quickly to a toilet before doing anything else. 

He wriggled his hips, cringing at the way the ruffles in his dress felt against them. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. If they HAD to force him to wear a dress, why did it have to be such a hideous, frilly one? Even most of the girls he knew back home didn’t wear ridiculous crap like this… He understood the clothing was just one more punishment they’d chosen to inflict on him, but he had to wonder if they honestly thought it was going to accomplish anything; If they seriously believed that by stuffing him into over-the-top girly outfits they’d succeed in turning him into a girl. 

Avery didn’t know if his ‘therapists’ seriously believed any of their methods would actually change a person. Being subjected to physical pain over and over again wasn’t going to cause some massive, cosmic change in who a person was, it was just going to hurt them. Avery suspected that ‘hurting people’ was really the only actual goal the ‘therapists’ had here. They probably knew they weren’t ‘curing’ anybody, they just liked to make them suffer. 

Laying on top of his stomach for long stretches of time always made Avery’s body start to ache and fill with pins and needles. It was worse when his bladder was throbbing; so much of his weight ended up pressing down against it, mashing the organ between his body and the concrete below him. 

Avery rolled over onto his side instead, trying to give his bladder more space. He was going to have to keep an ear out for the door beginning to open. If they found him not laying in the proper position, he’d be denied his toilet break and food. For whatever reason, turning over and finding himself staring at an identical, blank white wall made his heartbeat start to ramp up. He squeezed his eyes tightly trying to block out the sight. 

‘Go somewhere better,’ Avery told himself. He used to be better at doing that. He used to have an easier time mentally transporting himself away from this place. It was so hard to do that now. His memories of what laid outside this center were fading rapidly, becoming blurry and hard to see, like they belonged to someone else entirely. Avery didn’t understand why that was happening. Surely, he was way too young to be having such major memory problems. 

Now, Avery focused really, really hard on remembering the last time he and his parents had visited Uncle Brad in New York. That had been a lot of fun, until something had happened that made Dad and Uncle Brad have a really huge fight. Avery wasn’t sure what had prompted that and, while he didn’t have a brother, he didn’t think that if he did he’d be able to call him the kinds of things Dad had called Uncle Brad that day… 

‘Forget that part,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘Think about the good stuff.’ His bladder pulsed and he thrusted his his hands between his trembling thighs, gritting his teeth. ‘I really need to— Don’t think about that, either. Pretend that you don’t have to pee.’ He knew that was easier said than done, especially with how poorly his imagination was working right now. ‘Think about— Oh, when Uncle Brad showed you and your parents the big zoo…’ 

Avery focused really, really hard, trying to remember how the air had smelled that day, what the temperature had been like, how windy it had been. ‘You’re there, you’re there, you’re there…’ he chanted in his mind, and it started to actually work. He was with his uncle, who loved him and would keep him safe. He was in New York City, where there weren’t any isolation rooms or shock chairs. He was at the zoo, where there were cute animals instead of people asking him impossible questions and beating him for giving the wrong answers.

He tried to repeat that day inside his head, it had been before the big fight between Dad and Brad, but Brad had been tense anyway when he’d stood beside Avery as he’d watched a polar bear playing with a hunk of ice. Avery had been started at first when Brad leaned down really close to him. “Brittney…?” Brad had said in a low tone. Avery still hadn’t told anyone his new name yet— Or why he was going to NEED a new name. He’d been meaning to do it soon, but he was so scared… 

“Hm?” Avery had asked. 

“Do you… Feel safe at home?” Brad whispered. “Everything okay?” 

Avery didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t feel safe at home, even though he knew he was supposed to. A few months ago, he’d looked up stuff about being trans online. His parents had found his search history, had demanded to know why he was looking at ‘that filth’, asked who was ‘grooming’ him, said a bunch of other stuff that Avery barely understood… They weren’t going to react very well whenever he finally told them, he was sure of that… “Um…” Avery winced at the sound of the polar bear dropping the ice into its pond, suddenly hit by the realization that he’d had two big cups of soda since the last time he’d peed. “I… I feel… Uh…” 

“If… If there’s anything you need to tell me, you can, alright?” Brad whispered. 

“I… I need to pee…” Avery answered, even though he knew that wasn’t what Brad was concerned with. 

Brad grinned and laughed slightly. “Okay, let’s find you somewhere to do that, then.” 

It was easy to find the toilets, but when Brad stood beside them to wait, Avery hesitated. His bladder throbbed and pulsed, protesting the delay when he was so close to relief. Public bathrooms had always made Avery feel weird. He’d check the signs over and over before opening one of the doors. Then, once he was in the women’s room, he’d have to sort of… Stare at himself in the mirror and repeat to himself that this was where he was supposed to be. Nevertheless, there was always this feeling that he was breaking a rule by being inside a girls’ bathroom. It had ALWAYS been that way, ever since he was little. It was just, now he understood WHY. 

“Go ahead,” Brad said to him. “I’ll wait.” 

Avery listened and entered the women’s room. He knew that holding it for much longer would get risky. And his hair was so long, because his parents insisted he keep it that way. His chest was… There. Everyone saw a girl when they looked at him. 

He kept his head down as he made his way to a stall, briefly looking at his reflection as he passed the mirrors. ‘You’re not breaking a rule,’ he told himself, just as he had every time he needed to pee in public. Inside the stall, he pulled down his pants and sat. His discomfort grew when he heard two other people come in, in the midst of a conversation. The first woman was saying something about the date she was on, and Avery felt like he was intruding on her privacy. 

He squirmed uncomfortably on the toilet seat when, as the ladies’ conversation continued, his bladder decided that it was time to get some major stage-fright. He heard some other stalls being locked, followed by two streams hissing into the toilets. Avery blushed hard, he’d never stop feeling like a perverted peeper in these situations… But, the trickling was enough of a taunt on his own bladder that it unclenched and allowed its contents to gush out of him. He pushed down as hard as he could, trying to finish as fast as possible. Avery could pee really, really fast when he wanted to. And when he was sitting inside a stall in a public women’s room, feeling like a major creep, he ALWAYS wanted to pee fast. 

In spite of all the negative emotions, it did feel good to get all this liquid out of his body. He had needed this… He’d needed it so much… He— 

In the isolation room, Avery’s eyes popped back open to the awful realization that he wasn’t on the toilet, peeing. He was on the floor, trying to HOLD it. At some point during his daydreaming, his hands had begun to squeeze between his legs. He supposed the only GOOD thing about the dress was how firmly he could dig his hands up against himself when he didn’t have pants in the way of them. ‘Oh my God…’ Avery thought miserably. ‘Fuck, I need a freaking piss…’ 

He tried to estimate how long he’d been in here, how much time he had left to wait until someone would bring him to the toilet and finally allow him to go. But, that was completely unpredictable. Time moved really, really strangely in Isolation, he had no idea how long it had been since his punishment began, no idea when that door may open and grant him some much needed relief.

Odds were, however long he had left to wait was a lot longer than he could actually hold it. His eyes opened once more and, just as he had many times before, he found himself staring at one corner of the room, the one furthest from where he had to lay down. Like he did every time he got stuck here, he began to fantasize about squatting in that corner and peeing. He imagined the loud, satisfying hiss as he desecrated the ground below him. He imagined how wonderful the shrinking of his bladder would feel. He imagined letting out a nice moan. He imagined pissing all over this Hellish place, drowning it in urine since that was the only tool he had to punish it with. 

But, as ever, he then imagined what was sure to happen next. When that door opened, and the massive puddle he’d created was spotted right away. He would be called disgusting again. He would be hit. He would be denied food. Once his bladder re-filled, he’d be made to hold it even longer, and God help him if he used the corner again or peed in his clothes. 

The corner was not the answer, as much as he wished it could be. Avery wriggled and writhed, twisting back and forth and back and forth… His hands kneaded against his groin and he just… He just wanted to use the toilet! Once again, he was crying. He just wanted to pee! That was all he wanted! He wasn’t even allowed such a basic, simple thing! He’d been deemed unworthy of even that! 

He felt ridiculous, trying so hard not to pee all over clothes that he HATED. The only reason he didn’t just piss them deliberately out of malice and a desire to rid of himself of the awful pressure was because he didn’t want to be forced to SIT in his mess for a whole week again. Except, if that door didn’t open soon he wasn’t going to have a choice in whether or not these clothes were soiled. 

Yet another thing he didn’t get to choose. Avery couldn’t have any choices, couldn’t make any decisions for himself. Other people made them for him, and severely punished him if he tried to do anything else. 

There he went crying again. He wished he could stop. But, apparently he couldn’t hold in liquid from any part of his body. Tears streamed down his face, and a blast of pee seeped out into his clothes. He felt the warmth clinging to his thighs, and it made him cry more. He was revolting, he was a mistake. It was his own fault he was in here. He shouldn’t have come out to his parents. He knew they weren’t going to be happy, and while he couldn’t have predicted they’d do something THIS extreme to punish him, he should have known it was going to end badly. He should have just kept pretending for them, should have just dropped out of school early and gotten a job so he could move away from them and live his life the way he had to. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t be here. 

He would give anything to not be here anymore. Maybe everyone was right, and he just hadn’t put in enough ‘effort’ towards being a girl. He hadn’t tried hard enough. He could be a girl if it got him out of here. He could just… Find some way to stop feeling things. Find some way to switch all his emotions off, until he felt absolutely nothing. So long as everyone else was happy with him, it shouldn’t have mattered how he felt anyway. The ‘therapists’ had told him over and over that his insistence that he was ‘just trying to be himself’ came from a place of utter selfishness and lack of care for the feelings of others. Maybe they were right. 

‘You’re a selfish, pointless waste of life,’ Avery thought to himself, repeating what he’d heard hundreds of times. ‘Your existence is revolting, and it destroyed your family. Are you proud of yourself for that? No? Well then why won’t you put the work in to fix it?’ 

Tears were collecting on the ground beneath his head. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t even have the energy to blink them. Every few seconds, a hissing noise filled the room as tiny squirts of pee spurted out of him. He didn’t think he cared about that, either. 

‘When you get out of this room, you’re going to try to behave,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘You’ll figure out the right answers to those questions, and even if you can’t, you won’t cry when they hit you for it. When they take you to the shock chair, just sit down and take it, no more fighting. It’s what you need. Then, when they finally let you out, you’re going to wear nothing but dresses, paint your face with make-up until you’re beautiful. You’re never going to study fish again, because ‘marine biologist’ is no job for a sweet lady like you. No job is. Just find a husband and make all the babies you can. It’s what you’re made for. When you go home, you should thank your parents for teaching you this. Then, maybe one day you’ll be an actual human and not a…’ 

Avery was full-blown sobbing now, each heave shaking the walls of his aching bladder and causing him to void even more strongly into his clothes. He began to speak out loud, not even realizing he’d done so. “You’re not a person. You don’t deserve to call yourself a person. You’re an inhuman, disgusting pile of shit that’s lucky it hasn’t been beaten to death yet like it deserves. You’re… You’re a sick, pervert, getting off on the idea of tricking people into thinking you’re something you can never be. You’re just a brainwashed, confused little girl in need of fixing!” He had no idea he was shouting until spit flew from his mouth. He had no idea how much he’d peed until he sat up and felt his underpants squishing below him. In spite of how soaked he already was, he still felt close to exploding if he didn’t get to the toilet soon. 

He started to slap himself in the face, hard. Over and over, screaming vicious things at himself, repeating every horrid thing anyone had ever said about him, until he was laying back down on the ground, his face even more bruised than before and his thighs clammy and sticky from all his leaking. There was a big puddle on the ground below him, he’d utterly drenched the floor. 

His bladder was still so full, though. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…” Avery whimpered into the silence. “I want to… I don’t want to be alive.” He shouldn’t have been alive, he didn’t think. That was what everyone always said. He didn’t deserve a life. 

He gave up then, he just didn’t care about anything anymore. Who cared if the ‘therapists’ made fun of him when they found him sobbing and soaked in piss? Who cared if he had to sit in that piss for the next several days? All of that was what he deserved. He deserved humiliation and suffering. He was unworthy of ever being happy. 

Avery let go, his bladder immediately splitting apart and releasing a major gush that added to the dampness coating Avery’s body and the lake forming on the ground. He peed hard and fast, but felt no relief. He was getting so wet that his legs squished with every tiny movement, and the entirety of the floor was now covered in pee. The water-level in the room started to rise and rise, until the pee was nearly up to Avery’s nose. Still, he wasn’t done. And still, he felt no relief. If anything, his urge was just getting worse by the second. ‘Make it stop!’ his brain screamed. ‘Make it all just stop!’ 

Avery woke up. 

He blinked several times. 

He was not in the isolation room. He was not wearing a dress. He was not violently wetting himself.

He was in his bedroom at Uncle Brad’s place, right where he belonged. He was wearing his own pajamas, the ones he LIKED. He was… Holding what felt like at least fifty gallons of boiling hot piss. 

His arms jerked with the urge to grip himself, but he realized a moment later that he already WAS. His hands had become plugs at some point during his nightmare… ‘Nightmare… That’s…’ That was unusual, typically when he dreamed about conversion therapy, he was always fully AWARE that he was stuck in a nightmare, that he shouldn’t be there anymore, that the events shouldn’t have been repeating. But, this time he hadn’t had that awareness, he’d been utterly convinced he was trapped again, with no memory of his rescue and new life. 

Did that mean the dreams— and whatever it was in his head that was causing them— were getting even worse? 

His bladder pulsed and he felt heat bloom against his hands. Avery could try to figure out what was going on in his brain later, that was too hard to deal with right now. However, he KNEW exactly what was going on in his bladder, and that THAT issue had a simple remedy. He sat up further, and the waistband of his pajama pants started to CRUSH into his bladder. “Ohhh—!” he yelped, probably too loudly for the middle of the night. He hadn’t been able to help it! It had surprised him too much! 

He turned to the side of his bed, feeling his pee slosh harshly against his opening. He lowered a foot to the floor, then the other one, and— 

HSSSS! 

The second he started to actually stand, he was peeing. Hurriedly, he collapsed back onto his bed, tucked his feet underneath himself and rocked and rocked and rocked to make himself stop. He did manage to cease the flow, but now he had a bigger issue. 

He finally woke up from a nightmare in time to avoid wetting his sheets, but now he was going to pee them anyway because he was so full he couldn’t stand! That was so unfair!

All of it was unfair! He shouldn’t be having nightmares that made him pee himself! He shouldn’t have so many bad, scary feelings all the time! He shouldn’t have been sent to that place! He’d done nothing to deserve it! Memories from his dream, ones unrelated to the desperate need to empty his bladder, flooded back to him.

Most of what had happened in the dream had been real. He had freaked out when brought to the shock chair and been put in isolation as punishment. He had gotten very desperate to pee while in there. He had broken down and begun to scream at himself and smack his face. He had ultimately had an accident before he was given a toilet break. The only part that HADN’T actually happened was that, in real life, he hadn’t pissed so much that he’d created a literal flood. 

No, in real life, he’d only peed out enough to make a big puddle below himself, then one of the ‘therapists’ had found him like that, called him disgusting before slamming the door shut once more. Avery, whom had needed to go pee AGAIN by then, filled with disappointment when he realized that, by having an accident, he’d forfeited his right to a toilet break, and likely to food as well. He wet himself twice more before he finally ‘earned’ a break to use the toilet and, as ever, he was made to sit in those wet clothes for an entire week until he was released from isolation. 

The memory of that horrid week— Of those horrid MONTHS he’d been imprisoned for no decent reason— mixed with the pain in his bladder and the hopelessness he felt since he couldn’t even stand and walk to the toilet. Before he knew it, he was crying just as he’d done in his dream. Much like his dreams, his sobs shook the walls of his annoyed bladder and made him start to lose little droplets into his pants. ‘Just let it all go,’ he told himself. ‘Get it over with. You can’t make it.’ 

It just wasn’t that easy to urinate in one’s clothes on purpose, even if they were as desperate as Avery was. Years and years of conditioning had made his body dead-set on not letting itself pee if his clothes were in the way of the stream. 

Avery didn’t realize how loudly he was crying until his bedroom door cracked open. “Avery…?” Uncle Brad whispered, coming to his side. “Did you have another bad dream?” 

Avery whimpered as he nodded, “I—I didn’t mean to w—wake you up…” 

Brad rubbed a hand against Avery’s shoulder, “It’s okay… You…You were hurt a lot, Avery. You’ve earned the right to cry…” He sat down on Avery’s bed, unknowingly jostling his nephew’s overflowing bladder in the process. 

“Ooohhh…” Avery groaned, tensing his thighs and tightening his grip. “I—“ 

“What was the dream about? Would it feel better if you talked about it?” 

“It… It was about the isolation room,” Avery said, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if talking about it would make him feel all that better THIS time. The longer Brad stayed in here, the more likely it was he’d bear witness to Avery drenching himself when his bladder finally burst. “This one time where I… I went crazy. I started hitting myself, and screaming at myself, because… I don’t know, I guess just hearing… Hearing people say it to me all the time, it all got stuck inside my head.” 

Brad nodded. He knew Avery had a history of self-harm. He’d caught Avery hurting himself a few times, it had been a horrifying thing to see. There was a reason Brad kept the razors in a lockbox now. When Brad quit smoking, it had been to get all of the lighters out of the apartment.“None of those things they said about you were true. You are not disgusting.” 

Avery winced, shifting in his place. Would Uncle Brad say the same thing when he peed everywhere in a few minutes? 

“You are not sick,” Uncle Brad added. “The people who did those things to you, they were the sick ones. You’re a kind young man. Even after everything you’ve been through, you’re nothing but nice to everyone. You—… Hey, don’t be so tense, it’s over. You’re safe now, I’m never going to let anybody hurt you ever again, I promise.” Brad stroked Avery’s back, feeling the heavy tension there. “Relax, or at least try to… It’s—“ 

“I c—can’t,” Avery stammered. “If I relax, I’ll… Um… Anoth—Another part of the dream— When I was in isolation, I wasn’t allowed toilet breaks very much and I always had to go bad. Sometimes I’d have accidents and they’d make me lay in it, and—” 

“It’s… Okay if you got the sheets wet,” Brad assured. “I’ll get you some new pants, it’s—“ 

“N—No, I didn’t wet the bed this time,” Avery interrupted, nearly doubling over on himself. That was a bad idea, however, as now his body weight was basically folding his bladder in half. Instead, he laid backwards and stared at the ceiling, desperate to give it more space, however there didn’t seem to be any space LEFT in Avery’s body, his pee had to come out now! “I… I just…. Can’t hold it…” 

“Oh,” Brad said. “You mean you have to go NOW. Well, we can talk more in a minu—“ 

Avery shook his head frantically, “I can’t stand up. I have to… I have to go SO bad that I start peeing if I try to get up. I can’t make it.” 

“Okay…” Uncle Brad told him. “It’s alright, I’ll… Hold on.” He stood and left the room. Avery initially thought he was just giving him some privacy so he could have his inevitable accident, but he came back a minute later, carrying an empty bottle that used to contain a sports drink. “Got this back out of the trash,” he said. “Will it wor—“ 

“Yes,” Avery said eagerly. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything as badly as he wanted that bottle. He’d fallen asleep with his prosthetic on, so he’d have no issue using it, either. 

Uncle Brad sat beside him again and handed him the bottle. Avery unscrewed the cap, and then… There were problems. The STP worked best if he was actually standing, otherwise the cup was tilted wrong and he’d have a spill. “I… I have to get up…” he mumbled, trying to figure out the right way to do this that would result in the smallest amount of pee coming out before he was ready. He came up with it pretty fast and was a little proud of himself for thinking so quickly when his bladder was searing. “T—Turn around,” he said. 

Brad did, and Avery unbuttoned his pajama pants and pulled his dick out, then put the opening of the bottle in place below it. He knew he was going to burst the second he was on his feet, but this way it would all be flowing where he wanted it to go. He shut his eyes as he got ready to stand, seeing his dick aimed into a bottle was a bit of a mindscrew— His eyes were telling him it was safe to pee, but inside he knew that everything wasn’t lined up right just yet. He got up as fast as he dared, one hand pushing the cup of his STP firmly against himself. He felt himself peeing before he was all the way stood, and felt a little sliding out the back of the cup and warming his pants. 

Finally, he had everything right where he needed it, and he didn’t have to TELL himself to start pissing, because he was already gushing like crazy. Urine hissed and spattered into the plastic bottle, and Avery sighed gently, “Haaahhhh… That’s beautiful…” he mumbled to himself. He felt the bottle growing warm and heavy as he pumped it full of his piss, and for a wonderful moment he was lost in his relief. 

But, the bottle started to get REALLY heavy, and then Brad was saying, “H—Hold on, too much!” 

It took Avery a minute to register all of that, but when he felt pee coating his hands as it overflowed from the bottle, he cringed, squeezed his thighs, and cut off his flow. His bladder pounded and swelled, utterly enraged at having its relief taken away early. 

Frantically, Avery set the bottle down on his nightstand, accidentally spilling some onto the surface, before he took off from his room. He’d let a lot of the excess pressure out— Enough that he could move without pissing— But, he didn’t feel like he had much time before his interrupted stream resumed with or without his consent. He dashed to the toilet— and thank God the lid and seat were both up already! He aimed for the bowl, instantly unleashing the remainder of his piss. “Ahhhhhhh….” 

Avery moaned so loudly now that Brad could hear him all the way back in his room. Brad’s stomach twisted. According to the label, the bottle Avery had just OVERFLOWED held twenty ounces. Avery had pissed out over twenty ounces of liquid and he STILL hadn’t been finished!? 

Brad struggled to remember his high school biology class. How much was a bladder SUPPOSED to hold? He thought it was probably slightly UNDER twenty ounces, right? Avery managing to fill that bottle beyond its capacity and have even more pee left to expel couldn’t have been healthy at all… 

‘He should have woken up to pee before now,’ Brad thought. ‘Is he just a heavy sleeper, or was his nightmare that strong, or what?’ 

Brad had a feeling he knew why Avery’s bladder was larger than average, and why he held in so much so often. He’d thought for the longest time that Avery held it JUST because public toilets scared him, or JUST because he was embarrassed to say he had to go. But, something Avery had said tonight got to Brad, the thing about not being let out of isolation to pee and then having to sit in the mess when he didn’t make it. 

Avery’s bladder had been brutally and harshly TRAINED to hold way more fluid than a person ever SHOULD. His bladder had obviously gotten strong because of that, but Brad was concerned he was going to hurt himself if he didn’t start emptying it more often. His full bladder really SHOULD have woken him up sooner tonight, the fact that it didn’t wasn’t a good sign. 

Avery returned to his room about half a minute after he’d left. He collapsed limply on his bed, looking very loose compared to his earlier rigidity. “Ahhh…” he breathed out again. “Man, did I need THAT…” 

Brad held Avery’s hand, “Okay now?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “Thank you for the bottle, definitely would have peed all over the place without it.” 

“Avery, did you remember to go before bed?” 

“Yes,” Avery said. “I can’t sleep if I don’t pee first. Especially if I drink a lot at dinner.” 

Brad thought about that. They’d eaten a pretty salty dinner, Avery had had a ton of water. So, that would explain why he’d gotten so full… “I want you to try to remember to go a little more often, okay?” 

“I go when I have to,” Avery shrugged. 

“You hold it an awful lot, too,” Brad reminded. “Almost every time I see you come home from somewhere, you are squirming and rushing to the toilet.” 

“Well, at school, that’s because of Liam—“ 

“Your principal told me that you are free to use his restroom whenever you need to go,” Brad said. “Have you been doing that?” 

“No,” Avery admitted. “Usually, I just— I hold it at school in case—“ 

“You have somewhere safe to pee, Avery. You don’t have to hold it like that. It’s really not good for you.” 

“I… I don’t wanna bother the principal every time I need to pee.” 

Brad sighed. He understood— he REALLY did. He understood why Avery felt so much like a burden on everyone. His self-esteem had been crushed to bits in the conversion therapy center, he felt somehow ‘unworthy’ of everybody around him. Understanding it didn’t make it hurt any less to see Avery constantly put himself down and inconvenience himself because he thought it was what everyone wanted. If anything, knowing WHY Avery thought so lowly of himself only made it more painful to witness. “Avery, you aren’t bothering him. I promise. He’s called me several times, asking me to REMIND you because HE sees you fidgeting around in the halls all the time.” 

Avery blushed. He hadn’t realized how obvious his daily pee-dances must have been to everybody… 

“I want you to TRY to pee at least once every three hours, alright? I think the isolation room may have damaged your bladder a little bit, you should have woken up to go before it was practically coming out of you.” 

Avery blushed harder. But, he nodded. Truthfully, he couldn’t understand why his urge hadn’t gotten him up faster than that. Maybe the painfully long holds in the isolation room, not to mention how often he forced himself to hold it now, HAD all effected his body. He teared up again, he hadn’t ever considered that the full bladders he’d been made to endure at that awful place had damaged anything, but Uncle Brad did… 

His uncle really cared about him… 

“Um…” Avery fidgeted. “I…. Thank you for taking care of me, and being so nice… I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Uncle Brad said. “I’ll always be here, I’m going to be the parent you deserve, I promise.”

I love Brad so much. He on that king shit 24/7. 

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  • 1 month later...

Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Christmas Party".

***

It was the last day of school before Winter break and so, instead of classes, they would be having a party. Everyone was pretty much free to roam around wherever they wanted. However, after a few too many cups of punch, there was really only one room Avery wanted to visit.

Ever since the incident with Liam on that field trip, Avery had been so wary of bumping into him, particularly in a setting where he’d already be vulnerable, that he’d ceased using the school restrooms altogether. He always just BARELY managed to make it to the end of the day when he kept his fluid intake to a minimum and, even then, sometimes he’d have to shamefully ask Lydia to wait for him while he ducked into a store on their way to the subway, unable to hold it all the way back to his apartment.

Yes, he had permission to use the restroom in the principal’s office, but he just HATED how that felt. He hated how it set him apart from everyone else that could just use the normal bathrooms, and didn’t need to bug the principal and anyone else who may be in the office just because he needed to go. After Uncle Brad had instructed him to try to pee more often, Avery had made something of an effort at getting over his anxiety. Three times now, he’d been filled close to his limit and twitchily made his way towards the office. Every time, he’d just frozen outside the door, hopping from foot to foot, and straining his ears to make sure Principal Nelson wasn’t busy with anything.

Even when Avery heard absolutely nothing, he assumed Nelson simply MUST have been reading over something important, and so shouldn’t be interrupted by a student desperate for a pee. So, he’d just hobble away from the door and resign himself to holding it in until the final bell rang.

Today, he’d honestly thought he’d be fine having some punch, since school was going to end earlier than usual. But as he sat at his desk beside Lydia, twisting and coiling his legs, with three more hours left to wait, Avery was cursing himself for taking the risk. His bladder was humming with the urge for relief. He bounced his knees, and tried his best to quell the need. After months of never using the school toilets, Avery felt like he’d developed a few useful tricks for that.

For example, when he was sitting in class and trying to nurse the pain in his bloated bladder, it was never helpful to look at the clock and think ‘Oh no, there’s at least four more hours until I can pee!’ Instead, he’d try to break it down a different way. ‘I only have to sit through two more classes today.’ Since two was a smaller number than four, and since going to class was an activity to focus on, he was able to make it feel more manageable.

He couldn’t really do that today. Since it was a party and there weren’t any tasks to accomplish, all he could focus on was the fact he had a minimum of three hours to get through before he could even hope to see a toilet and relax his stinging sphincters.

As Lydia talked to Avery, she could tell he needed to go. Even with her difficulties understanding body language, she’d seen Avery overflowing enough times now that she recognized the signs. Plus, she’d been seeing him desperate a LOT lately. Ever since that field trip, every school day ended with Avery half-hunched over and struggling to even walk out of the building. Sometimes, he went straight to the subway station with her, other times he’d freeze on the sidewalk and stammer something out about needing a minute to ‘buy something’ at a particular store.

He seemed to still think she believed his excuse, even though whenever he came back OUT of the store, he never had anything with him apart from a much more relaxed posture and a pink flush to his face.

Lydia understood him being scared of the possibility of another run-in with Liam. Liam had followed him through the hallways between classes a few times when Lydia wasn’t there to threaten him into backing off. Liam had shot him some unsettling looks while IN class, and made a few rude comments to him in the cafeteria. But, all those times, there had been a lot of other people around so Liam hadn’t actually DONE anything that bad. In the restroom, Avery could easily find himself totally alone with Liam, and Liam would take full advantage of that.

What Lydia DIDN’T understand was why Avery never went to the principal’s office. He had permission to pee there, and maybe TELLING Nelson that Liam was basically threatening him would do some good. Avery always said he just “didn’t want to bother” the principal, which didn’t make much sense to Lydia. If it bothered Nelson, he wouldn’t have told Avery to do it…

Avery brought one leg up over the opposite knee and rocked in his seat. His eyes darted to the clock again, the second hand seeming to move in slow-motion. He swore it kept bouncing backwards. He felt the humming in his bladder turn into more of a pinching. He wished there could be something else to focus on…

Their homeroom teacher had brought in a bunch of sugar cookies, yet just the thought of putting ANYTHING into his body made Avery feel more bloated. He knew another classroom was playing a bunch of movies, maybe that would distract him for a bit… He tried to think if any famous Christmas films had any scenes that showed lots of water, which just made him picture rain and waterfalls, which just made him bounce his knee even faster.

Again, he looked at the clock. Still nearly three hours left…

He wasn’t gonna make it.

But, maybe that was okay today? It— It was the last day of school, so Nelson shouldn’t be THAT busy, right? Just this one time, Avery could let himself ask… He’d basically tuned Lydia out for the last several minutes. It hadn’t been on purpose, his bladder had just had a much louder voice. He attempted to pay attention again, hoping that Lydia hadn’t managed to catch on to his problem. Lydia was talking about the Christmas presents she’d gotten for her younger sister, so that told him she must NOT have noticed it. Good.

When she paused for a second, Avery said “I—I’m sure she’ll really like the bracelets,” he gripped the edge of his desk, bracing himself for the inevitable pain of standing back up. “Er… I— Oh, I gotta make sure that I haven’t left anything important in my locker!” He tensed up his thighs, muscles twitching from the strain. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Finally, Avery forced himself up onto his feet. The difference in pressure was instantaneous, pain moving from his groin to spread all throughout his abdomen, his legs wobbled, and he gripped the bottom of his shirt with both of hands to keep from holding his crotch instead. He stared down at the floor, focused hard on each step. Left foot, right foot— His pee sloshed back and forth, like waves crashing on a shore. Halfway to the exit, a violent surge of need rippled through his middle and he felt heat flow against his opening before squirting free. Immediately he snapped his legs together and gave a few sharp, deliberate hops in place. His face and neck both burned, not daring to turn around and see if Lydia had noticed, see if she’d worked it out…

Finally able to move again, Avery hobbled the last several feet to the door and wrenched it open, scrambling from the room.

Lydia watched as the door clicked shut behind him. She HOPED he wasn’t actually going to his locker…

***

Avery’s shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor of the hallway. Ever since that first shameful leak on his way out of the classroom, he’d felt a few more fighting hard to burst out from the confines of his bladder. The halls were fairly empty, the few people wandering around still enough of a deterrent to keep Avery from grabbing at himself. Even so, he knew his trouble was probably obvious. He kept needing to stop, cross his legs, jiggle up and down… When he walked, he was doubled over, and moving at a snail’s pace on shaky feet…

It was a miracle Lydia hadn’t noticed it!

He wished the principal’s office could be CLOSER to his homeroom. The walk didn’t feel that far normally, but today it felt like he was trying to hike all the way up to Canada… The worst part was how he passed by a men’s restroom on his way there. Dear God, his bladder shuddered at the sight of the sign for it, his imagination shoving images of vacant urinals and wide-open stall doors in his face.

What were the odds Liam was even IN there to bother him? Or would come in before he’d finished going? It should be okay, right? He wanted it to be okay…

It didn’t feel okay.

He made himself keep walking.

He got to the principal’s office and tried to turn the doorknob, but it didn’t move.

It was locked.

“Ohhhh,” Avery muttered. “Come on, not now…” How could he have such rotten luck!? The one time he finally chose to come down here for a piss, he wasn’t able to do it! He bounced in front of the door for several seconds, before hobbling further down the hallway to the front desk of the school. Timidly, he glanced passed it, but he didn’t spot another restroom.

A woman was at the desk, though, and before she could finish greeting him, he was blurting out “Wh—Where’s Principal Nelson?”

The woman looked down for a second, and Avery was grateful the desk blocked her view of his frantically flailing feet. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Nnnh, do you know when he’ll be back in his office?” Avery asked. “I— I need to ask him something!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll let him know whenever I see him… Are you oka—“

“I just— I have to use the bathroom,” Avery said, crossing his legs back around one another. “Real bad. And he said I could use the toilet in his office, and—“

“I’ll tell him next time I see him,” the woman said.

Avery knew that was all she could really DO for him, but it didn’t help him at all. He didn’t have TIME to wait, he needed to go NOW. Still, he thanked her, and slinked away.

As he careened through the hall on his wobbly legs, Avery’s mind was flooded with panic. He was going to have an accident at this rate! When he passed the men’s restroom he, again, tried to convince himself to enter it. He managed to put a hand on the door, but then his chest filled with fear and he just continued on his way.

He got back to his classroom, went back to his desk where Lydia was waiting, but couldn’t get himself to sit down. He was holding it just fine while standing up! He didn’t want to tempt fate by changing position! His fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he leaned himself up against it, stomping his feet against the floor. “Lydia, wha—what were we talking about before? I— I’m back now, I… Did whatever I said I was going to do!”

“You said you were getting stuff from your locker,” Lydia stated.

“Y—Yeah! I did that!” Avery’s hips shimmied, and he started to almost thrust himself against his desk. “How long was I gone, not too long?” He shifted his gaze to the clock. He’d been gone for less than ten minutes. He still had very, VERY close to three hours left… Fuck, he was gonna piss his pants… “Yeah, not that long, sorry to—“

“Avery,” Lydia interrupted. “Were you not able to use the restroom?”

“Wha—What?” Avery asked, twisting around and pressing a hand to his groin. “I’m—“

“—About to explode,” Lydia finished for him. “You’re… I haven’t even seen Pauline do a potty dance like that before…”

Avery’s face scorched red at being compared to Lydia’s much younger sister. He groaned. “Yeah, okay, Nelson wasn’t in his office, and the door was locked. So, no. I couldn’t pee. But, that’s fine. I’ll hold it!”

“You can’t…”

“Don’t have a choice,” Avery said. “I— Fffffff!” He clenched his teeth and exhaled sharply, a long jet of pee shot out into his boxers. He jumped back from his desk slightly, shoved both hands between his legs and doubled over.

“You’re nervous because of Liam, right?” Lydia asked.

Avery didn’t look up at her, couldn’t unfold his body without peeing. “Y—Yesss…”

“Well, he pretty much leaves you alone when I’m with you, right?” Lydia said. “So, I’ll just… I’ll take you to pee.”

Avery DID look up then. Having someone near him, guaranteeing that he wouldn’t have to be alone in a room with Liam, THAT would fix everything. But… “Y—You can’t go in the men’s room with me, you’ll get in trou— Ahhh, can’t hold it…” he whimpered, voice squeaking painfully.

“… I’ll pretend I didn’t read the sign, or… Something,” Lydia said. It wasn’t a good excuse, since she’d gone to this school for years, so she hoped Avery was too far gone to think about it too much.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Avery said. “That will work! Okay, hurry!” He rushed for the door.

Lydia followed after him. It was sorta funny how he’d been totally reluctant to tell her he needed to go at all, and now he was begging her for assistance with it… It seemed like he didn’t have that much trouble talking about his needs once someone else was already aware. Now, if only there was a way to make that FIRST admission a little easier for him.

They reached the nearest restroom quickly, since Avery was RUNNING there. Every hard step on the ground made him dribble, but he’d weighed his options; If he ran, he’d leak a lot, but he’d get there in time. If he walked slowly, he might have fewer leaks, but his bladder would burst before he got to the restroom.

Lydia caught up to him and, against all previous experiences, opened the door that was designated as being only for guys. Avery shoved his way into the room and Lydia let the door fall shut behind them.

Admittedly, she was kind of curious about how the inside of a men’s room looked. She started to glance around. Immediately, it struck her as a little unfair. In the girls’ restroom across the hall, she knew there were five stalls. And she knew that, sometimes, WAITING for one of those five stalls could get DEEPLY uncomfortable… Particularly when the girls occupying them were letting out loud, hissing streams that just got inside Lydia’s head and made her start to…

Well, in here, there were ALSO five stalls. But, in addition, lined up against a wall that was bare in the women’s room, were five urinals. Twice as many places to relieve a full bladder. She’d always THOUGHT the only reason women’s rooms had longer lines was because of the need to pull pants down and sit, it had never crossed her mind that there were an unequal number of places to actually GO…

Lydia realized then that she didn’t think she’d ever actually SEEN a urinal before. She couldn’t recall ever going into a men’s room, even by accident after not reading the signs properly. Looking at them now, seeing that these reached all the way down to the floor, she was a bit confused. Did guys really just pee right between their shoes? Didn’t that get them wet? Did urinals usually go that low? No, she didn’t think that was the case, she’d seen Avery run off to pee a few times, then return, still full, to make an embarrassed confession that the urinal had been too high for him to reach. So then Avery probably LIKED the ‘piss-between-your-shoes’ urinals?

She’d been expecting him to bolt for one and… Pee however one was supposed to pee at a urinal, but he didn’t. She turned and saw him still just standing there, shaking, with his hands at his crotch. She initially suspected he was now feeling too shy to relieve himself with her in the room, but considering he’d already DONE that a few times… “What, can you not move?”

Avery shook his head shamefully. He didn’t dare lift one foot, even that felt like it would be enough to break open his dam.

“Would it help if you leaned against me, or something?”

Avery kept shuddering. That would be so humiliating, but a little bit of support would be useful… And still LESS embarrassing than soaking his pants inside of a restroom would be.

Lydia took his arm and slowly helped him hobble a few steps. She wasn’t actually sure if he wanted a stall or a urinal and, by the time she’d gotten him up to one of the urinals, she’d figured out that he probably would have preferred more privacy judging by the red coloration scorching across his face. Oh well, he was AT a toilet now, not like he’d put up a fuss about it at this point…

And, maybe Lydia WAS a little curious… Not so much about Avery peeing. She’d seen that before. She’d NEVER seen anyone use a urinal before, though. For whatever reason, that did pique her fascination a little. Probably from her earlier questions about how the shoes stayed dry. Or the fact that the urinals were just sort of… There, out in the open. No doors to lock. Guys really did just GO in plain view of whoever else was in the restroom, huh?

Avery shuffled, leaning from side to side and stomping his feet against the tiles, his hips shifting. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was always the worst part of being desperate… That moment where he was at last at the toilet, and he had to just look at it as he grappled with the final obstacle, made trickier by the shaking of his hands, and the urge to press them back against his crotch.

Lydia heard Avery’s zipper moving, then some very urgent ruffling of his clothes, punctuated by a little, whining whimper in the back of his throat. Then, she watched his feet bolt apart from one another, and a stream appeared in-between them, pouring hard against the porcelain… As the beginning of Avery’s relief spattered the urinal, a panicked grunt turned itself into an almost startled moan. “Ah!— Oh— Ohhhhh, holy shit that’s…that’s it…”

Avery’s piss had started firing out before he’d been totally ready, he had to scramble to get the cup of the prosthetic underneath him correctly, and he knew he’d sloshed some into his boxers— But, just a LITTLE bit, and now it was all flowing down his shaft properly, all landing into the urinal where it belonged, and he could FINALLY just let himself relax. Everything went away the second it hit him that he was at last free to give in and grant his body what it wanted. He didn’t care that he’d spilled a bit in those first few seconds, and he didn’t care that Lydia was here with him as he did this. “Barely fucking made it… Ahhhh…”

Lydia felt very awkward now, and it wasn’t actually because she was standing beside Avery as he took care of such a personal need. It was really just because of the running commentary he was giving as he urinated… Occasionally just… Babbling to himself, barely coherent nonsense about how good he felt…

She’d heard him sorta mumbling under his breath while peeing before, making silly comments, but this time he was MOANING them, and she just… She hadn’t known people got so VERBAL when emptying their bladders. Particularly when they were usually super SHY like Avery was… She seriously wondered if he was even AWARE of what was coming out of his mouth now. This was a guy that was so quiet he’d have a hard time telling someone to get out of a burning building, yet now he was groaning and cursing about how amazing it felt to urinate.

And if he was doing it in front of HER, that meant he DEFINITELY had done it in front of other people…

Right, no way did he notice what he was doing.

Hopefully nobody would ever say anything to him about it, otherwise he might be so embarrassed that he never relieved himself in public again and eventually made himself actually explode.

“Haaaahhhh….” Avery gave one last low moan as the last of his pee hit the urinal. He kept standing there though, certain that another flood would start to blast out any second now. Once he was certain he really WAS emptied, he zipped his pants and tottered backwards. “Fuuuhhh…” He was lightheaded now, he felt so empty…

It was only when he’d stepped away from the urinal that he remembered Lydia was here. “S—Sorry…” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t wanna watch that…”

“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You’re alright now, aren’t you?”

“Y—Yeah,” Avery said, going to the sinks. “I’m a lot better now. Thank you.”

When they exited the room, Avery realized that Liam HADN’T ever come in, so he’d really had nothing to even worry about.

Even so, he never would have gone in there without someone there. Just in case.

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  • 1 month later...
On 11/3/2022 at 3:05 PM, secretomoact said:

Written for the Omovember prompt "On Public Transportation". 

(Kinda light on the desperation through part of this one, mainly some backstory for Avery to help set up for a chapter coming later this month.)

*** 

Avery had been having a nice day. He and Lydia had gone out to get some pizza, and Avery had enjoyed several delicious slices as well as a bottle of cola. He liked the restaurant Lydia had chosen, especially when he saw the toilets there were gender neutral. Even though he only sort of needed a pee at that point, he decided that it would be best to relieve himself before they left. 

But, the cola still hadn’t filtered through him at that time, there was more liquid that his body was going to want to expel soon… And it just HAD to decide it was time to do that when the subway ground to a random, screeching halt in the middle of his journey home. 

Avery winced hard as the jerking below his feet made his urinary sphincters flare. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

Before Lydia could answer him, an announcement from overhead did it for her. The train conductor informed all of the passengers that they were delayed because… A group of chicken were walking along the rail. 

What. 

“Is… Is that a joke?” Avery asked. 

“Probably not,” Lydia said. “This has happened a few times. Usually, animal control will come and take care of it.” 

“Random chickens just wander around on the tracks often?” 

“Well, not chickens,” Lydia admitted. “I think it’s mostly raccoons.” 

Avery bounced his knees. “A—And how long do the delays usually last?” 

“It shouldn’t be that long,” Lydia assured. “Just… However long it takes them to grab the chickens.” 

Avery nodded. He hoped she was right, now that he’d NOTICED his need for a bathroom, it was getting worse a lot faster. ‘Ugh. I shouldn’t have gotten a drink with caffeine,’ he thought, swinging his feet out before pulling them back in, trying to distract his body from the pressure inside of it. ‘That stuff always goes straight through me…’ 

His fidgeting was doing very little to get his mind off of peeing. He didn’t have much else to focus on, his phone’s battery had died earlier in the day, and he didn’t have any other form of entertainment with him. Plus, they were underground, even looking out the window didn’t provide him with anything new to focus his brain on. 

Boredom always seemed to give his body a megaphone, with nothing else to think about, any discomforts he may have felt would inevitably amplify. And, his bladder was feeling really uncomfortable right about then. He leaned forward and back as he waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Half an hour ticked by, and Avery was getting a lot more antsy. He supposed the worst part of all this was how he didn’t have any way to find out how much longer he was going to have to wait. The uncertainty was making his bladder spasm. If someone told him that the train would get moving again in twenty minutes, then he wouldn’t have a problem… 

His fingers were curling tightly against the edge of his seat as his feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. He just wished he had something to look at, something to draw his attention… This would be so much easier if he could only get himself to stop THINKING about it! He sighed, exhaling a long breath that only made him more aware of how taut the skin around his bladder was growing. “How much longer?” 

“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “Guess the chickens are hard to catch. But, it shouldn’t be THAT much longer. Don’t worry, you won’t have to try going to sleep down here.” 

Sleeping was the least of Avery’s concerns. His bladder had gotten him pretty alert. He kept shifting his hips, grinding himself against his seat. He tried to imagine himself somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t so boring. He pictured himself at Coney Island with Lydia… They’d gone there a couple times together, and those trips had been lots of fun. Lydia was scared of heights, so Avery had ridden the rollercoaster on his own, but they’d been side by side for the entire rest of the day. 

Well. Except for the couple minutes Avery had spent in the restroom. Avery had waited a bit too long that day, he’d been having too much fun to stop and go pee. Then, when he went on the rollercoaster for the third time, his bladder punished him for ignoring it. Every tilt and change in gravity, the way too fast motion, his bladder screamed and seared at all of it, demanding relief. The instant he was off the ride, he was babbling to Lydia, “I gotta— I need to go now, okay? B—Be right back!” and running to the toilets as fast as he could for a VERY relieving pee. 

Now, Avery tensed his thighs as he sat on the subway, his fantasy had done nothing to quell the surges rippling inside his bladder. He tipped his head back, staring up at the dull grey ceiling of the train car. He kicked his feet out again, hurriedly pulling them back in close. He did this a few more times. It didn’t help. 

He tried to come up with a new imaginary scenario, tried to name all the places he’d rather be spending his time right now. ‘The movie theater would be fun… I like Times Square too, dunno why Lydia hates it… Oh, and the park is cool, and— Ah, the bathroom at the restaurant you were just in was nice, you should have stayed there longer, you should have known you were gonna need to go again after the caffeine!’ 

He shook his head back and forth, as if it were an etch-a-sketch and he could erase the thoughts he didn’t like from it. ‘Mmmf, stop thinking about that! There are way cooler places than bathrooms! Like, that skyscraper Lydia likes so much, that place is neat! Isn’t it weird how the only toilets you’re allowed to use are on one floor close to the top? It’s so big, I KNOW there are more in there, but you have to go to, like, the 86th floor or something if you need to—‘ 

‘STOP IT,’ Avery pleaded with himself. But, it was too late, his bladder had taken complete control over his brain, and the more he tried to shut it up, the louder it got. He crossed his legs and jiggled in his seat, balling his hands into fists uselessly. “Lydia, how much longer?” he asked again. He knew he was whining, but he was seriously losing his patience!

“Avery, I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long this time. Are you bored?” 

“Yes, but…” Avery flinched. He lowered his voice. “Um… I also have to use the restroom.” 

“Didn’t you go before we left?” Lydia asked. 

She hadn’t meant to do it, but calling attention to the fact that he was bursting to pee after having just used the toilet not too long ago really embarrassed him. Plus, she’d said that much too loudly. Everyone on their car probably heard it nice and clearly! “I did,” he whispered. “I just gotta go again. Bad.” 

“Well…We can find you a place to go as soon as we’re out of here,” Lydia promised. 

Avery’s knees knocked together as he fought not to ask, yet again, how much longer that was going to take. ‘She doesn’t know,’ he kept scolding himself. ‘Just hold it.’ 

His bladder argued with him that he SHOULDN’T hold it. It tried to persuade him to ask Lydia for a bottle, to stand in the corner and urinate into it, to get the relief that it wanted so much. He did his best to ignore those pleas, doing that would be utterly wrong. There was no way he could get away with it without EVERYONE in the train car knowing EXACTLY what he was doing. 

So, as uncomfortable as it was, he HAD to hold it in. “Lydia?” he asked. “Could you… Um… Distract me somehow? I don’t have my phone, and… Like, ALL I can think about right now is… You know…” 

So, Lydia tried her best to take Avery’s mind off of his bladder. She talked to him about sky-scrapers, and about hockey, but Avery’s one-track brain managed to bring BOTH of those back to the subject of peeing. Sky-scrapers would have TONS of toilets, so many that nobody would ever have to wait in line if they really had to go! 

And, the last time he went to a hockey game with Lydia, he’d gotten a tad desperate, and the trough urinal had SERIOUSLY freaked him out. There were no partitions, and everyone was just kinda… Crowded around it with very little personal space. Avery had approached it, hand at his zipper, then he felt a flash of anxiety so intense that his chest had felt like it was going to explode even faster than his bladder was. The panic had caused a spurt to leak into his pants, but he’d also frozen in place, unable to go use the thing that would let him get relief. 

He’d ducked his head and gone towards the stalls instead, jiggling in place as he waited for one to open. He was sure he couldn’t have been the only guy there who thought the trough was too freaky to use, so other people must have been using the stalls just to pee, too. Hopefully that meant his wait wouldn’t be TOO long. 

A stall became available right away and Avery rushed into it. He remembered feeling a silly bit of anxiety THEN too, and for some reason leaving the door to his stall OPEN while he urinated made him feel a fresh wave of confidence in himself. 

“I— I don’t know why that made me feel better,” Avery said now. “It just did.” 

Lydia stared at him, “Um… You wanted me to make you think of something OTHER than peeing, right?” 

“Y—Yeah…” Avery nervously tugged at his hat with one hand as the other anxiously tapped atop his jiggling knee. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I can’t STOP thinking about it!” 

“Um… Okay,” Lydia tried to come up with something that Avery couldn’t POSSIBLY connect to urinating. But, if so much as mentioning a place that had a toilet was enough to do that, that would be hard. Most places in the city HAD toilets, after all. Sometimes they’d be out of order, or so grody they were unusable, but they still at least EXISTED. 

Lydia HAD left the city a few times… To go to a DIFFERENT huge city where her Dad was filming something for his TV show. So, telling Avery about those trips could inadvertently remind him of peeing, too. 

Avery DIDN’T always live here though, and from the way he talked about being in the city, it was a major adjustment for him. He’d grown up pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so that meant he must have gone to plenty of places that didn’t have indoor plumbing or toilets. “Uh… What was it like where you grew up?” she asked. 

“Well, i—it wasn’t like here,” Avery said, bouncing his knees and rocking forward and back. “I had to get up super early just to catch the bus to school because we lived so far away from it. Imagine having to get up at 4AM every single day.” 

“Ouch…” 

“I was the first one getting picked up, and I’d be riding on that thing for four hours while the driver got everyone else. Once I was so groggy and tired that I forgot to—“ Avery stopped himself. “I forgot to… Do something really important before I got on the bus for the long ride. And then I was real uncomfortable until I got to school.” 

“Avery…” Lydia said.

“I know, I’m trying!” Avery complained. “Maybe if I…” he brought his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked them beneath his body, rocking firmly against his feet. “O—Okay, this helps some…” He clenched his eyes shut and took some steadying breaths. The nerve-endings around his urethra continued to flare as they fought against the heavy weight pressing down on them. “S—So, yeah. Gotta get up at 4AM every day for school. Sometimes I’d try and sleep on the bus, and normally I’d be able to do that for at least a little bit, but…” He hesitated. 

“What?” 

“Uh… You know how Lawrence is?” Avery asked. 

“Of course.” 

“Well… Um… Up here, it’s like… Like, a lot of people don’t act the same way Lawrence does. I mean, SOME do, but it’s not… Well, where I come from, basically EVERYBODY acted like Lawrence. All the other kids at school, all the teachers, the guidance counsellor… My… Um… Well, anyway, when the other kids started getting on the bus, they were… Not nice to me. They called me awful things, sometimes they’d hit me and stuff… The bus driver never told them to stop. He even encouraged it. All the adults at school encouraged it… I would go to a teacher or somebody and ask for help, I’d say, like ‘Colby hit me in the jaw and now I lost my tooth.’ And I’d get ‘You need to stop drawing all this attention to yourself. If you got a boyfriend, all this teasing would stop. And, it was just a baby tooth. Suck it up.’” 

“Someone knocked out your tooth?” Lydia asked, shocked. She’d had a tooth knocked out once when she was ten, but that was during a hockey game and it had been a complete accident. The person that had slammed into her too hard apologized, the coach had gotten her ice to help with the pain, and a few months later her new tooth grew in just fine. 

“Yeah, that happened a few times. And not just baby ones,” Avery opened his mouth really wide. Lydia looked inside and saw that one of his bottom teeth way in the back was gone, just a gap left in its place. “I hadn’t even— I hadn’t come out or anything yet back then,” he added. “I was still pretending to be a girl, I still… Had the long hair and all that. But, everyone could just… Tell that something was ‘off’ about me. And they didn’t like it… So I didn’t like it, either. I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, just that it must have been something bad, and that if I made ‘it’ go away, my life would be better. I’d have friends, and my parents would stop being ashamed of me.” 

“Could your parents tell before you… Told them?” Lydia asked. 

“Not exactly, I don’t think the people at school knew exactly what was going on, either,” Avery said. “But, my parents knew SOMETHING was different, and it made them angry. An—Another thing, back where I used to live, it was super popular to make your daughters do these beauty pageant things. They’re awful, you have to dress up in these ridiculous frilly outfits, and dance around for some judges— It’s honestly kinda creepy when you think about it. I never even really figured out exactly WHAT we were getting judged ON, but whatever it was must have been something that I was AWFUL at because I always got last place. Eventually, my parents started getting really angry every time I came in last. Apparently I didn’t ‘walk like a lady’, whatever that even means.” 

“Did you ever get to do anything fun back there?” 

Avery leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He winced, being reminded of his CURRENT problem when he felt his skin grow taut around his midsection. He shifted in his seat a little, now sitting on top of his OTHER foot. For some reason, that felt like an improvement. “Well, I liked to just… Wander around the farm some. My parents’ farm was really big, you could explore there for hours almost. And, I liked the cows. And the chickens. They were nice. But…” 

“But…?” 

“I didn’t… Realize what was happening to them until I got older,” Avery explained. “Or, maybe I did, but I just didn’t really ‘get’ it. Just, some days I’d go to see the animals and find one missing. I either thought, or just pretended to myself, that it must have run away. But, then my Dad said he was going to take me hunting. And, at first I was happy, because all the boys where I lived went hunting with their dads, so I thought ‘Oh, he figured it out without me having to say it!’ And, I figured the hunting would help me feel more like a man… And instead… I— I did shoot the gun, I did shoot… A deer. And I didn’t feel like a man. I felt like I’d just killed a defenseless animal for no reason.” 

“So, that’s how you realized what was happening to the farm animals?” 

“Not exactly…” Avery said. “That night, Mom made meatloaf and… Suddenly I couldn’t make myself eat it. I’d never really understood until right then that all the meat used to be something alive, and I just… Couldn’t eat it. I tried, but it got stuck in my mouth and I couldn’t swallow it. I told my parents I didn’t think I could eat animals anymore because it made me feel bad. And they were angry. They said so long as I lived under their roof, I was going to do everything the way they wanted. So, if they said I was eating meat, I was going to eat meat. My Dad told me ‘You’re eleven fucking years old. You don’t make decisions about your life. That’s my job.’ And he hit me. So, I tried to eat the meatloaf, and all I could see was the look in that deer’s eyes as I shot it because my Dad had told me to, because I thought doing that would somehow make me a ‘real’ man. And… I threw up. All over the table. So Dad hit me more, and he shouted about how meat was how we afforded a place to live, and I guess that’s when it finally clicked where all the animals kept disappearing to.” 

“That’s really terrible,” Lydia said. “They were really controlling, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “They controlled everything.” He switched his feet around again, dug his fists down on top of his knees as he rocked. “They literally called me their ‘property’ a bunch of times when I was a kid. They acted like they were joking, but they weren’t because that’s actually how they saw me. Only places I could get away from them were at school—but then I’d just have to deal with even more people just like them— or outside on the farm— but that was less fun when I realized what was happening to the animals.” 

“What about your room?” Lydia asked. 

“That’s…” Avery shifted around once more, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was down to his bladder or just because he was having a difficult time speaking about these things. Either way, he couldn’t stay still at all anymore. “Well, when I was I think around seven years old, I woke up one morning and the door was stuck. Like, the lock got twisted on its own, so I couldn’t—“ 

“Did you not know how to unlock it?” 

“I did, but the thing was, my Dad switched the knob around on my door so that he could lock me in if I did something wrong,” Avery stated. There was something very disturbing about the way he’d said it, like he was describing the fact that grass was green, something completely normal and expected. “But… Uh, anyway, since it was first thing in the morning, and it was the weekend and I’d gotten to sleep in, I had to… Go. A lot. Like, as bad as I gotta go right now. So, I started pounding on the door and yelling for help, which got my parents furious because I’d woken them up.” 

“Did they let you out?” Lydia really hoped so. She was trying so hard to distract him, but so far all she was doing was making him think of really awful, sad things.

“So, yeah, something was actually wrong with the lock, when Dad switched the knob around something came out of place and so the lock was just stuck at that point. And, he started trying to take it apart, and I asked him, you know, ‘Please hurry, I really have to use the bathroom, I can’t hold it.’ And, for some reason that got him angrier, and he yelled at me. ‘If you wanna complain, fix it yourself.’ And he just walked away. And, I couldn’t fix it, I didn’t have the tools for that, I didn’t know how… And I peed on the floor after a while. Cried a lot, and Dad ended up breaking the door down to yell at me to shut up and punish me for wetting the carpet. After that, he said I wasn’t responsible enough to have a door for my room, so he took it off the hinges and he never got another one. So, I never had privacy if I was in the house after that. I asked for a door lots of times, and my Dad got super mad because I’d called it ‘my room’. He explained that he owned the house, so it wasn’t my room and I didn’t deserve any privacy if I was in someone else’s house. 

“But, because I asked for a door, he figured that meant I was hiding something, so he tore apart my room looking for… I don’t know, maybe drugs, I guess. He didn’t find any, of course. But, I guess he was determined to find SOMETHING he could punish me for, because when he finally accepted that I didn’t have drugs, he found my journal. I still didn’t know I was… Me yet back then. So, there was nothing in there about that, there was some stuff about how I was confused and felt bad, but that was all, it was super vague because I just didn’t know. But, the thing was, I wasn’t supposed to have a journal AT ALL, because that would mean I was keeping secrets and being dishonest and stuff. So he was mad that it was even in the room. He read, like, the first page, which I swear was just something I’d learned about pufferfish, and he lost it. He tore the thing to complete shreds. I was finding pieces of the paper around the room for years afterwards, that’s how many tiny bits he broke it up into.” 

“Do you have a new journal now?” 

Avery shook his head. “Nope, I never really thought about getting another. I liked having it, but… It was dumb to leave my thoughts laying around where someone could see them.” 

“I think you’d like to have another one,” Lydia said. 

“Maybe,” Avery said. “I mean, if I had one right NOW I’d probably just write page after page of ‘I really need to pee’, so nothing TOO deep, right?” 

“Still have to go?” 

Avery shrugged, “Nah, the pee just evaporated. It was quite miraculous.” A sharp pinch at his urethral opening made him dearly wish that that was true. 

Lydia frowned, “I— I’m sorry, that was silly—“ 

“It’s fine,” Avery said. “I think this has distracted me some. Almost. I hadn’t really thought about all the stuff they did to me growing up, I usually only think about the… The ‘big thing’ that they did to me.” 

“The…” Lydia trailed off. She wasn’t sure what to call the place Avery had been sent to. It was CALLED a therapy center, but there wasn’t any therapy taking place inside it, so the name was wrong. “The place they made you go to?” 

“Yeah,” Avery said. “It’s weird, some days I remember EVERYTHING about that place, like the way it smelled and how many tiles were on the ceiling in certain rooms. And, other days it’s like it’s all blocked out, just this blank, foggy space… Except, I always remember the room with the shock chair, and the tiny isolation room, too,” Avery placed his feet back onto the ground, suddenly scrunching up super tightly on himself wasn’t helping his bladder feel better anymore. “I wish that I didn’t. Like, if there was some kinda machine that could zap memories out of your brain forever, I’d pay all of my life savings to be able to use it.” 

His feet tapped against the ground, he wanted to stop thinking about the isolation room, but now he could only think about IT and about needing to pee. And about all the times he’d needed to pee while inside of IT. His breathing was picking up, chest tightening and, along with it, his bladder was cramping in on itself too, making him feel all the more desperate to go.

Lydia heard his breathing starting to accelerate, and knew that was a bad sign since he was just SITTING there, squirming about. “What’s your favorite memory?” she asked. “One that you wouldn’t want to have zapped away?” 

“When Uncle Brad got me,” Avery answered immediately. He hadn’t needed even one second to think it over. It was no contest. He tensed his thighs as a new wave of pressure soared up in his bladder, but his breathing was becoming more even again. “He’s never said what he did to get my parents to tell him where I was, but… He did it. And then he flew all the way across the world to come get me. When they told me someone was there to see me, I thought my parents had changed their minds or something, so I expected to see them and I was just scared. But, when I saw it was Uncle Brad, I just started to cry because it seemed too good to be real. He actually ran to me and hugged me, and it was the first time I’d had someone touch me in a way that didn’t hurt in a real long time. It was the first I’d felt like someone loved me, and I couldn’t stop crying. 

“But, he was also looking me over a lot. I had bruises everywhere, and there were burn marks in a lot of places too, and I… I only weighed, like, eighty pounds by that point so I was, like, skeletal. They didn’t feed us much, and towards the end I wasn’t keeping much down anyway. Uncle Brad sort of just lost it and, you know, he’s a lawyer… So, he was just shouting at them that they either had to let him take me home or he’d ‘rain Holy Hell down on them’. He also used a bunch of legal words I didn’t really understand. I don’t know if the people at the center knew what any of it meant, either, but it got them to listen to him. He was able to take me away from there. And that was, like, the first time I’d even been outside in months, and that made me cry too. 

“He asked me what I wanted to do, kept talking about finding me some food… But, like, they made me wear this hideous dress covered in ruffles and bows— The sort of thing I wouldn’t wear even if I WAS a girl— and so the first thing I wanted was to take the stupid thing OFF. He’d actually expected that, so he brought me back to his rented car and had me change into something he’d bought for me, but he was upset by how loose the clothes were on me and how much weight I’d lost, so he really wanted to get me some food. He took me to the airport to bring me home and got me lots to eat there. Airport food’s usually gross, but it tasted super good that day because I hadn’t eaten much for so long.

“I was super clingy to Brad the whole time we were going home, and the flight was super long, and… Well, since I didn’t want to leave his side even when we were on the plane, I… Ended up… Holding it.” 

That was the only part of the rescue that hadn’t felt wonderful to Avery. He knew deep down that he was safe once he’d gotten on the plane, that there was no possible way someone could pop out and drag him back to Hell just because he’d walked too far away from Brad. Except, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the danger was still there. He’d spent so long being tense and scared that he didn’t know how to feel safe anymore unless someone was there to protect him. 

So, when all the big sodas he’d guzzled at the airport started to hit his bladder, he held it. And the flight just went on and on. Avery still didn’t know exactly WHERE the conversion center was located, just that it wasn’t in the United States. He had no idea how far away he was from his home country, how long he’d be stuck holding in his pee. 

The most annoying thing was that he could see the bathroom from his seat, he was just too scared to move and go use it. He’d crossed his legs tightly and stared out the window, but there wasn’t much to see out there. 

“When I get you home, we can get your hair cut if you’d like,” Brad had offered. 

Avery nodded. He WOULD like that a lot. His long hair drove him crazy, it was always in the way. For a while, he managed to distract himself by picturing how he’d look once it was fixed. 

“And, I’ve been doing research. I can buy you something to help with your chest,” Brad had added. “I haven’t gotten anything yet because I didn’t know what size to pick, but I’ve got you other things. You’ll see, the spare room in my apartment is yours now. It’s a bit of a mess, but I tried to find stuff you’d like. Got you some clothes. I know you like fish, so there’s an aquarium— But there aren’t any fish in there yet, you’ll have to come with me to pick some ou—“ 

“Wait,” Avery interrupted. “I thought you were taking me back to my parents’ place.” 


Brad frowned. He went quiet for a second. “Bud, um… I’m sure this isn’t going to make you feel very good. I’m sorry. But, the only time you’re going to see your parents after this is in court.” 

“What?” 

“They…” Brad ran a hand through his hair. There was really no good way to say something like this. “When I got them to tell me where you were, when I said I was getting you out, they said… That if you are going to live your life this way, they don’t…” 

“They don’t want to be a part of it,” Avery finished for him, voice dull. He’d expected that. He’d also expected that hearing it be confirmed would make him cry. But, it didn’t for some reason. He didn’t feel like crying. His parents may have been readying themselves to formally disown him, but the reality was that they’d disowned him a very long time ago. This wasn’t a big change. 

“I’m sorry,” Brad told him. “I… Don’t know what happened to my brother. I’ve spent years trying to figure it out. But, I promise, I’ll do everything I can to be the parent that you deserve to have.” 

Avery nodded. Uncle Brad had always been kind to him. Uncle Brad had saved him. He was already doing a better job than his birth parents had. 

The flight had continued to wear on, and Avery was getting very uncomfortable. It was hard to sit still for so many long hours, particularly after chugging four large sodas. He’d grown very twitchy, shimmying against his seat and clenching his fingers tightly against the armrests as his knees bounced. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Brad told him. “You’re safe now.” 

Avery repeated that to himself. He was safe now, so it was okay to detach himself from his uncle for a couple minutes so he could use the toilet. But, he couldn’t make his legs move. They just buzzed with tension and anxiety and stayed glued to their places. He heard the seatbelt lights ding and hoped that meant they were landing. He was excited to see the room Uncle Brad had made for him, but he was far more excited to see the toilet in the apartment first. 

The only issue was that putting the tight strap of the seatbelt across his stomach really upset his poor bladder. At least they were landing… It was almost over. 

To his immense dismay, he learned a few seconds later that they WEREN’T actually landing. Instead, the plane hit a patch of turbulence, jolting up and down and side to side. The movement sent immediate waves of pain through Avery’s bladder, creating even more awful pressure inside it. His legs and abdominal muscles clenched so tightly that his thighs shook. He kept glancing ahead, looking longingly at the door to the toilet. But, now that he had to stay seated, he couldn’t get up and go there even if he suddenly felt brave enough to do it. 

The turbulence stopped after about twenty minutes, and the seatbelt lights switched off. Avery was crossing his legs and bouncing up and down, hoping and praying that they would actually be landing soon. “H—How much l—longer?” Avery winced out. 

“We’re a really long way from home,” Uncle Brad said. “It’s gonna be a few more hours…” 

The thought of hours squeezed a fist around Avery’s bladder with fear. He couldn’t wait hours. He had to go NOW. 

Brad was quiet for a second. “Bud… All that shaking made me need to use the restroom,” he said. “You should go now too, since I’m getting up.” 

Avery relaxed immediately. He could stay close to Brad AND relieve himself. He nodded quickly. “Um… Y—Yeah. I have to go a lot all of the sudden. The…Um… The bumps did it.” 

Avery knew Brad could tell he’d been needing to go for a long time, especially when they got to the restroom and Brad insisted that Avery should use it first. But, he didn’t care. He was about to feel so much better, and then he’d be able to focus just on how happy he was to have gotten away from that terrible place. 

Avery sat on the toilet and peed for what felt like ages, feeling so much better, so much more at ease, he felt safe and loved for the first time in so long. As he’d gushed, the exhaustion of the last several months, during which he’d barely ever managed to get a full night’s sleep, finally hit him and he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

Now, stuck on the subway, remembering all that, Avery fanned his legs in and out and bounced them up and down so quickly that his ankles started to go numb. None of it helped. “Wh—Why c—can’t subway trains have toilets on them, too?” he asked Lydia. “Planes have th—them!” 

“Well, normally you aren’t on the subway that long,” Lydia pointed out. 

Avery whimpered, shifting his hips as he tightened his hands into fists so hard that his knuckles whitened. “They should still put some on the trains, for when they get stuck like this,” he said. He needed the bathroom so much by that point that he felt like he was going to squirm out of his skin. 

Lydia felt more than a little defeated. All her attempts at distraction had either dredged up awful memories for Avery, or caused him to circle back around to his all-consuming urge to urinate. She tried to think of a NEW topic, but she’d talked about all her favorite things, and learned more about Avery’s past already. 

Right. She’d talked about HER favorite things. She’d talked about skyscrapers and sports. She should have been talking to Avery about things HE liked. Although, Avery’s favorite subject was fish… Would a topic so tied to water really be a good thing to focus on right now? “Um… Why do you like fish so much?” she asked. 

Avery tapped his foot harshly against the ground. “Because they’re always… They st—stay together. They don’t leave each other out, or abandon one another. It’s just an ins—instinct for them to stay in large groups so they can help each other stay safe, or find food or swim better. And they wa—watch each other, too, so that their group doesn’t get separated.” 

“Oh…” Lydia said. “Do you have—“ 

Before she could finish her next question, there was an announcement overhead. The issue with the chickens had been resolved and the train was able to start moving again. 

“Ohhhh, thank God…” Avery murmured. “Finally!” But, when the train DID begin to move, Avery realized he’d celebrated a bit too soon. The sudden jolting and vibration beneath his feet was not helping him, even the knowledge that relief was getting closer and closer wasn’t particularly helpful. He didn’t want to be peeing ten minutes from now, he wanted to be peeing right this second! 

He just had to hold on a little bit longer, just a tiny bit more and the awful pressure would be able to fade. The train turned slightly, and Avery’s urine followed the movement, pushing itself even harder against his urethral opening. He braced himself as the train started to slow down, as this happened Avery felt like he was being pulled forwards and he tensed himself up hard. He just couldn’t handle much more pressure on his bladder! He felt like he was going to pee himself if the vibrations didn’t end! He squirmed and tightened himself so much that he was suddenly completely out of his seat. 

On his feet now, a barrage of pressure slammed into him with so much force that he grabbed himself. His muscles were twitching from the effort required to keep his pee at bay. His sphincters were weakening, so exhausted. He wanted to let them relax, if only for a second. That would feel so, so good… 

No, he had to hold on. He’d held it through the entire delay, no way was he losing it now! But, it felt like his urine had a mind of its own and was actually trying to form an escape plan to get away from the horrific pressure being placed onto it. His bladder was twisting around inside his gut, trying to squeeze the urine right out of him whether he wanted it out or not. 

“Nnnnnhh!!” Avery winced out involuntarily, expression twisting from the torment. 

“Almost, Avery…” Lydia said. “You can do it!” 

Avery froze, feeling a burning heat trail up his neck and across his face. “Oh, God… You’re pep-talking me!” 

“I— I know you can make it!” Lydia carried on. “You’re really close!” 

Avery was jiggling up and down, his hands digging between his thighs, and when the train finally stopped and the doors slid open, Avery’s bladder felt like it was twisting around again. He tensed each and every muscle inside his body, but could feel urine pulsing hard against his opening. ‘Hold it, hold it, you can find a toilet now!’ he kept reminding himself as he nervously and slowly hobbled for the doorway. 

His legs were crossed so tightly that he could barely walk, and he knew everyone could see that his hands were pressed into his crotch, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to somewhere that he could find relief. 

Lydia followed after him, and as soon as he was out of the train, he was so doubled over that it was a fight not to collapse completely onto his knees. Lydia saw his shirt ride up a little, and her eyes widened when she realized there was a foreign bit of distention in his lower belly now. “Lydia,” he said. “Please tell me this station is one that has a bathroom. I don’t care how gross it is, I just… Don’t wanna climb stairs right now.” 

Lydia shook her head sympathetically. “Th—There isn’t one here, but right up the stairs, as soon as you turn left, there’s a pharmacy and you’ll be able to go there.” 

Avery didn’t know if he could make it up the stairs. He really, really, really didn’t. Any second now, he was sure pee was going to be pulsing to the ground below him. He was squeezing himself for all he was worth, but could still feel a few leaks trickling down his legs. 

Seconds pass and, somehow, Avery managed to quell his leakage enough to start walking again. He was bent over at the waist, but he was at least able to move. 

“A—And,” Lydia said. “If it’s— If you don’t make it, that will be okay.” 

Avery cringed. He HAD to make it. He absolutely HAD to! But, if he didn’t, he knew Lydia wouldn’t make fun of him. Lydia would probably find him something to cover up with, too. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if— 

Gah! What the Hell was he thinking!? But, it was too late, after just the mildest suggestion that relief was acceptable, his bladder twisted itself up yet again and a very long spurt of urine forced its way into his clothes with an audible hiss. “Ack— Hurry!”” Avery stammered, and his tiny, careful steps transformed into frantic, heedless running. Every harsh step sent a new thrash of need through his bladder, caused more liquid to trickle forth out of it. But, Avery couldn’t afford to move slowly anymore, he needed to get to a toilet as soon as humanly possible or he’d explode and drench himself for sure. 

He made it to the stairs and came to a sudden stop, doubling over with his hands between his legs. He bounced his weight from one foot to the other, trying to force himself to take the first step. 

Lydia caught up to him. “Avery, are you—“ 

“I— I can’t—“ Avery whimpered. All he wanted was to let go and end his torment! “The stairs…” He tried to explain. “I’m going to pee…” 

Lydia glanced all around. There were lots of people, there were always lots of people… Avery looked really, really far gone, though. “Um… Uh…” she lowered her voice. “If you… Can’t make it up the stai—“ 

“I don’t want to pee myself,” Avery winced, a protesting jet of pee pulsing out to remind him that he’d ALREADY started to do that. 

“I wasn’t— Look, it’s… If you… Pee into a trash can down here, or on a wall, you wouldn’t be the first person to do that.” 

“But… What if— I don’t wanna get arrested!” 

“Even IF you get caught, you don’t go to jail for that,” Lydia said. “They count it as littering. You’d get a fine, I think it’s like one hundred dollars. No jail time, I don’t even think they’d really keep a record of it, either.” 

Avery nodded. He was so desperate that he thought it would be worth losing a hundred dollars if it meant he’d get to go… And besides, Brad was a lawyer, and he’d mentioned something called a ‘necessity defense’ before, where someone commits a crime due to an emergency circumstance. This probably counted, right? He was having a MAJOR emergency, after all! “Okay,” he said. “I can’t— I’ll burst if I go up the stairs.” 

Lydia looked around, found a darker area and took Avery that direction. “Just… Pretend you’re looking at your phone, and be really quiet, and maybe nobody will even be able to tell what you’re doing,” she said softly. “I’ll try and block the view of you too.” 

Avery’s hands were trembling as he unzipped his pants and aimed at the wall. For the first few seconds, nothing happened. The station was bustling, and he felt like he was on a stage. He felt like everyone was watching and knew exactly what he was about to do. 

But, ultimately, Avery had to pee much too badly for his nervousness to lock him up for that long. Soon enough, the walls of his aching bladder were squeezing together and liquid was being pumped out of him. Avery’s ears burned, hyper-aware of the hissing and splattering noise his release made. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Just… Letting it out inside a busy subway station. What if there was a cop or a security guard watching? What if he got a fine? What if Lydia was wrong and he really WOULD go to jail for this? Would Brad be able to help then? 

Avery was so nervous about these things that he didn’t feel much relief. He was more focused on just getting all of this pee OUT of him as fast as he could before anyone caught on to what he was doing. If he could just get himself nice and empty, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. He gritted his teeth as he pushed down, trying to pee quickly, yet not SO quickly that he overflowed the STP and just wound up wetting his pants anyway. 

He remembered Lydia telling him to pretend he was just looking at his phone, but he knew the way he was standing— legs apart, head bowed, hands around his front— was a pretty clear indication that he was actually peeing— Even if nobody was close enough to see or hear the thin, clear stream still jetting out of his body. Avery felt so self conscious right now that it was almost like he was watching himself from outside of his own body. 

After another few seconds, he wondered if he should just clamp it off. He’d gotten some of it out, so maybe he could make it up the stairs to a proper toilet now. But, when he tried to interrupt his stream, his bladder just gave a lurching shudder that caused him to void even more strongly. He couldn’t stop going. He was gonna be stuck here, feeling anxious, until he was fully drained. 

He shut his eyes, hoping that might calm him down a bit. He could still hear the bustling of people and the screeching of the trains, but he couldn’t see the wall in front of him anymore. That helped him focus a little more on the sensations of his poor bladder slowly shrinking down as his liquid sprayed out. Wow, that felt good… He actually had to gnash his teeth a bit to keep from making any noises of relief. 

It took over a minute for his stream to start winding down, and then another five seconds before he was finally finished. He shook out the STP and zipped himself up, opening his eyes and turning, dreading what he’d see. But, there were no cops, no security officers, no disgusted strangers staring at him. Just his friend still vigilantly keeping watch. “O—Okay, I’m done now,” he whispered. “Did anyone see?” 


“I don’t think so,” Lydia said. 

Avery heaved a very long overdue sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. “Ahhhh… Good. Thank you so much.”

I wonder how common people peeing in subway stations is. I haven't seen it in person. 

Edited by Ms. Tito (see edit history)
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