Leaky Bunnie 268 Posted June 15, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted June 15, 2021 (edited) Hello! This was a request for @SecretPerson as practice for story commissions that I'm going to be officially announcing pretty soon! I just need to have enough examples of the sort of stuff I do ready, and to work out exactly what I want my prices to be and how I want to receive payment. So keep an eye out for that soon! This was supposed to be a 1000 word story, but I went a little over because I was having fun with it and it ended up being 1478 words in total! Obviously if this happened with a real commission I wouldn't charge for those extra words, so it's a little bonus I guess! The request was for a story about a strict teacher who, due to her pride, had refused to use the toilets on a field trip, and now was stuck with a student totally bursting and unable to find a toilet. He gave me freedom to decide on all the other details and whether or not she manages to make it. I hope you enjoy the read! ^-^ Lost and Losing It at The Museum Mrs. Alison clacked her heels to a stop and pressed her shapely thighs together. A hand hovered to the waistband of her pencil-skirt and assessed the slight swelling of her abdomen; firm from the heavy mass of urine brewing inside. Walking up beside her, Hailey Waters glanced up from her phone, “What’s the holdup Teach?” Alison supressed the urge to dance in place, straightened her glasses and adjusted her hair bun. She pretended to look over the stone-age artifacts adorning the walls. “I’m just wondering how we lost the others…” “Uh, I was, like, texting in the toilets, and-” “Yes,” Mrs. Alison silenced the eighteen-year-old blonde, not wishing to remind herself of the relief she could have had just an hour prior, if not for her pride. “I know why we lost the others, but surely they can’t have gone that far!” Truthfully they could have, given the labyrinthine structure of the museum, it wasn’t surprising the rest of the field trip was proving impossible to find. Worse still, Alison wasn’t sure where they’d come from, and where too that precious restroom had been. Eight hours since her morning release, the typically composed woman had two coffees and three water bottles bearing down on her trembling nethers. So far, she’d hidden every last shiver, wiggle, and squirm from her student, but her resolve was waning. With controlled breathing, Alison attempted to resume the search, but upon the first step forward was struck by an immense surge of urgency. Growing impatient, her bladder contacted painfully, crushing her sphincter, and firing jolts of sloshing fury towards her exit. Alison gasped sharply, stumbling into double-crossed legs, her ass jutting out and gyrating while the waves crashed against the gates. Her breathing ceased, face scrunched up, grunts escaped gritted teeth, but the burning rage of pent-up piddle remained corked… For now. The assault lasted about twenty seconds, then finally relented, and retreated to plot its next attack - which Alison knew could only be stronger. She panted, glasses fogging up, then slowly straightened herself just in time to hear giggling from behind her. “Oh my god!” Hailey cackled, “Do you have to piss?” Embarrassment coloured Alison’s cheeks and she brushed down her skirt, “O-Of course not I… I lost my balance. I…” “You totally gotta go! The way you were shaking, I thought you were gonna wet yourself!” “I will not!” Snapped the now red-faced teacher, stamping one leg and giving Hailey a fiery glare, fuelled by the anger in her piss-pouch. The blonde took a step back, raising her hands, “O-Okay, sure… Whatever you say…” she smirked. This trip had finally gotten interesting. An hour later, Mrs. Alison couldn’t even feign composure. With every-other halting step, she would grind her thighs together and wiggle her skirt-straining rump, taking laboured breaths and choking back cries of anguish. Her eyes were staring ahead, unfocused and brimming with tears. Sweat trickled down her neck and caused her blouse to cling to her heaving chest. “Gonna lose it?” Hailey teased from behind. “Of course not!” Mrs. Alison all but snarled, though it could just as well have been a gargle by the state of her floating back-teeth. Hailey hadn’t let up, “You can’t hold it forever!” she sang. Alison bit her tongue, wanting to reply that she could, but finding herself completely overwhelmed by the weight of her boiling burden. Once more she cautiously palmed her abdomen, and found it jutting out as if she’d swallowed a bowling ball, tender, and cramping. She felt pain in her back from lugging this behemoth bladder around. Cold sweat-drops of fear mingled with those that exertion had already brought to her face, as Alison wondered if the organ might really rupture should it continue to accommodate cargo. The sound of sloshing water drags her flooded train of thought back to the present. Trembling, she cranes her neck her to see Hailey guzzling from a large water bottle, making an exaggerated show of doing so. She then locks eyes with her teacher and offers it up, “Want some?” A moment passes, Alison staring at the bottle blankly, trying not to burst as Hailey tried not to giggle, keeping a straight face she continued, “You just seem thirsty, what with all the panting, you know… like a dog.” Alison fumed silently, bitter rage building like a fire in her kidneys. She swallowed her urges and took another step, her knuckles white and pussy spasming. Around the two of them were a series of Elizabethan artifacts and model ships, ones Alison looked to for distraction, but couldn’t help picturing in a warm sea of her own making. Yellow waves rolled behind her eyes, but as she shook her head to banish the torturous visions, Hailey’s assault was unrelenting. “What’s wrong puppy? Looking for a fire hydrant?” Lifted legs and arching streams drift to the surface of Alison’s water-logged mind, the innocent easing of her agony, if only she’d been born with a tail. Her piss froths upon the verge of her control, a scalding knife behind her quivering crotch. One step forward, another, then another. Instinctively her eyes dart left to right, scouring for something, anything to aid her in this, her most desperate hour of need. There’s nothing. There’s nothing but planes of glass and further hallways, twists and turns, without a blessed bathroom sign in sight. No hope. Two more steps, then she stops, her knees knock together, her face is turning purple, the veins in her neck bulge, her inner thighs flex and strain. A spike of pain, her bloated piss-pouch contorts itself and squeezes like a juice-box. Burning urine seeps past her pelvic floor and trickles into that short, all-important passageway between control and release. Her urethra fills with urine. Her piss-hole puckers up, her world falls out of focus. Hailey taunts her, she doesn’t hear it, not anymore. The first drop emerges, it hangs above her precious, not-yet-tainted, white cotton panties, suspended its own surface tension. Ready to fall. Heel impacts ceramic, echoing and sharp. Practically pouncing, Mrs. Alison takes off in one final surge of defiance, one last bid to outrun mother nature and stumble upon salvation. Skidding at the corner ahead she almost falls, but turns her body with precision and, using her bladder as a ballast, rights herself in the nick of time. She draws in breath, a spurt is lost, just barely stayed as it started. Lagging just behind, Hailey catches up and gasps out loud. What lays ahead Alison can scarcely believe. Toilets. Privies. Chamber Pots. Displayed against the far wall were a dozen examples of commodes from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. Hailey doubles over laughing, but Alison doesn’t hear. A constant trickle of urine seeps out past her clenched pussy lips. Another spurt escapes and for half-a-second she’s pissing full force, her panties soaked and her shame snaking down her thighs. With the last of her will she stops it, then scrambles towards the display, bladder pounding in her ears. Her skirt is forced up, over her ass and up to her navel, the dam already shattered as she yanks her damp panties to the side, squatting and stepping over the glazed clay pot in one, fluid motion. The thing must have been secured quite firmly to its raised platform because the power behind her piss should have sent it flying. The jet was as thick as a climbing rope and splattered against the receptacle with a cacophony worthy of a geyser. Alison could not hold her cries of joy at the single most intense relief she could imagine, her entire lower body tingling with pleasure and warmth, the steam of her spray rising to her face and clouding her thoughts, getting her drunk on the fumes of her own pleasure. She imagined she was some Lady or Duchess that might have used this pot before her, having just endured a day of courtesies with a glass always brimming with wine. By the time her well had run dry, the pot was half full. Containing what seemed like almost two litres of still simmering piddle. Mrs. Alison fanned herself, face flushed, sweat glistening on her cleavage as she unbuttoned her blouse a little to cool down. Adrift in a sea of bliss. A cough reaches her, and she returns to earth to see Mr Carter, wide eyed and pale, with the rest of their students gathered behind him, barely concealing their giggles and whispers. “I… I…” Alison squeaked, waiting to wake up from this terrible nightmare. Tears about to flow as freely as her urine just had into a priceless piece of history. Until she saw Hailey, who wasn’t laughing, who was even redder in the face than she was. The blonde approached her, staring dumbly, then took a pack of tissues from her bag and offered them up. The End. Edited June 15, 2021 by BurstingBunnie (see edit history) Tellnoone, FullBladder85, Mr_g and 21 others 19 5 Quote Link to comment
jimpix123 27 Posted June 15, 2021 Share Posted June 15, 2021 Wow. You're a brilliant writer. Really well written and super fucking hot, too. Leaky Bunnie 1 Quote Link to comment
Oel14 9 Posted June 15, 2021 Share Posted June 15, 2021 Great Story! Shut up and take my money 😉 No seriously, I might order a story, when you've figured out the conditions 🙂 Leaky Bunnie 1 Quote Link to comment
OmoJack 95 Posted June 16, 2021 Share Posted June 16, 2021 Damn I really wanted “teach” to wet her conservative sounding undies but I can’t lie. That was extremely hot and very well written. Well done Leaky Bunnie 1 Quote Link to comment
bladderboi 35 Posted June 19, 2021 Share Posted June 19, 2021 hot af story! Loved that!! Leaky Bunnie 1 Quote Link to comment
Psalm23_4 52 Posted June 24, 2021 Share Posted June 24, 2021 Well done! I gotta admit this has somehow been one of my fantasies lol. Leaky Bunnie 1 Quote Link to comment
Jimmy Olsen 933 Posted September 7, 2021 Share Posted September 7, 2021 I noticed this when it was new but forgot to read it. I'm glad I went back and checked it out because it was a good read! I've never really understood the hot teacher fantasy/fetish but I have a special fondness for chamber pots, especially when used by dignified and chaste women. Well, Mrs. Alison wasn't very chaste or dignified in that last scene, but you know what I mean. You provided a great mental image, and your descriptions of desperation and release were detailed and eloquent. A few things stretched believability, but I can't really complain when you deliver the omorashi and humor so perfectly. Leaky Bunnie and daniel2 1 1 Quote Link to comment
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