secretomoact 2,353 Posted February 5, 2022 Popular Post Share Posted February 5, 2022 Like the last few stories I've posted, this was originally written using characters from a non-kink book I've written (The same one that the characters in my fics "STP" and "Appearances"are from). So, name-changes were made and the setting was kept vague to keep it from being recognizable, I hope the vagueness does not distract from the desperation content. *** Martha wished that every aspect of her present circumstance could be just slightly different. She wished that the first time her girlfriend Lana saw her in the nude, it was because they were finally taking their relationship to the next level. But, instead the first time Lana saw Martha naked, it was because Lana needed somebody to pose for her figure-drawing assignment. So, there Martha was, sitting naked on a plush chair with her girlfriend just a few feet away… And all she could do was sit there and stay still. And all Lana could do was sit there and sketch. No touching, no seductive poses, no nothing. After all the time Martha had spent picturing the first time she’d disrobe for Lana, this felt startlingly anticlimactic. Martha was also dissatisfied with her current seat. The chair wasn’t uncomfortable, the cushion was nice and soft, the back not too stiff, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it wasn’t a toilet. Martha had been so focused on how Lana would react to seeing her in the nude that she hadn’t paid a moment’s consideration to all the water she’d had to drink earlier in the day. Every drop of that liquid was now shrieking to come out, and she wished that the soft chair she was sitting on was a toilet seat instead. “Martha,” Lana said. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to stay still, okay?” Martha hadn’t realized her limbs had begun to twitch. But, they had. Her legs were spasming ever so slightly, and with as hyper-focused as Lana was on her body, (For frustratingly wrong reasons!) no squirm could go unnoticed. It had taken forever for Lana to get her into the pose she wanted, constantly correcting her; “No, this foot needs to be in front! Put your hand over your stomach like this!” And, if Martha asked for a break, they’d have to start it all over again. Lana was already worried about getting this assignment done in time, making her redo it all from scratch would be awful. So, Martha found herself in a deeply unpleasant situation. She was naked, but Lana wasn’t doing anything noteworthy about it. She had to pee like crazy, but she could neither go to the toilet nor fidget to help stave off the urge. Nor could she admit her current plight to Lana. Even if this wasn’t how she’d wanted it to be, being nude before her girlfriend was still such an immensely intimate experience; informing her that she needed to pee really badly would kill what little mood there was. Holding it was the only option. And, Martha really, really had to hold it! The chair she was on was quite fancy, and probably really expensive. If liquid spilled onto it, especially a massive quantity of that specific liquid, the chair would be ruined. And, since Martha didn’t even have her underwear on, any drop she let slip would go directly onto the chair, she couldn’t allow herself even the smallest leak. Lana would surely be upset if Martha messed up her assignment, and she would be even angrier if Martha soiled the chair. Lana could even leave her for it. And then, Martha would be all alone. She’d have no one. Abandoned. All because she couldn’t hold her bladder. Martha told herself this was good practice. When she finally got her big break and made it to Broadway, she’d probably have to sit in make-up chairs for hours and hours, and wouldn’t be getting any pee breaks then. This would just get her more used to waiting it out. Yeah. This was a good thing. “Martha, are you alright?” Lana asked, and her eyes were so filled with concern that it made Martha want to admit to her problem. “Your face is all pink,” she added. “Don’t be embarrassed, this is just art.” Martha had to fight to keep her expression from changing into a sour, downcast one. Just art, Lana had said. So, she wasn’t interested in Martha’s body at all! It was just a tool to complete her assignment, nothing more. What was it Lana didn’t like? Were Martha’s breasts too small? She’d always thought they were, she’d never even managed to get any larger than an A-cup. Lana was probably disappointed by them. Or… Or should Martha have shaved down there? Was the hair grossing Lana out? Martha had always just been too scared to shave. When she shaved her legs, she usually ended up cutting herself, and she definitely didn’t want a cut THERE of all places. But, maybe she should have shaved anyway? Her fretting was interrupted by a wild, frenzied pulse from her bladder. She clutched onto the chair’s cushion with the hand Lana hadn’t instructed her to keep over her stomach. It was all she could do to ease the tension, and it didn’t even work. Her bladder thrashed angrily, more uncontainable by the second. Then, she felt it; A quick burst of liquid sprayed from between her thighs, she heard the feint sound of it striking the cushion below her. Without thinking, she snapped her legs together. “Martha!” Lana whined. “Put your legs back how they were! I almost had them drawn perfect!” Martha allowed herself to squeeze her thighs and rub her ankles together a few seconds longer, before gradually inching her legs back outwards. “A—Are you nearly done?” “I need to finish your legs, and your chest,” Lana informed. “Should be about half an hour more? Sorry, I know it’s really hard to stay still for so long.” Lana didn’t know the half of it… “Sssoo, my chest, then?” Martha repeated nervously. “Wanted to save the best for last?” Jesus, where had THAT come from? She’d never been so bold with Lana before. “Heh, yeah,” Lana agreed. “I’ll… Have to take my time there, for sure!” Martha felt relieved that Lana had flirted back with her, but not as relieved as she would have felt if Lana had said she was finished. Martha concentrated very, very hard on not moving. But, trills of desperation wracked through her body with each second. She felt another quick pulse of liquid trickle from her, and cringed. She bore down hard on her pelvic muscles to make it stop, but it just wasn’t enough. She managed to slow her flow, but it was still coming. Lana had said she only had Martha’s legs and chest left to worry about, so she was done with her arms and hands then, right? Without giving any more thought to what Lana would think, or how it would mess up Lana’s view of her chest, Martha’s hands dove between her thighs and she cupped herself. Liquid dribbled into her clenched palms for a few more seconds and then, blessedly, it ceased. “Martha!” Lana cried. “I can’t draw your chest if your arms are in th— Oh.” Martha felt her face flame, “S—Sorry, I’ll put them back. I’m sorry!” “Martha, do you… Um… Do you have to ‘go’?” There was no sense in denying it at this point, so Martha just nodded. “You should have said something!” Lana exclaimed. “You must be so uncomfortable!” “I didn’t… I didn’t want you to have to start all over,” Martha said, struggling to get the words out around the weight inside of her. “I won’t have to start all over,” Lana said. “You can pee, then come back, get in the position again, and I can finish the drawing. It will only add a little extra work. No big deal.” Martha immediately bolted to her feet once the permission was given, only to learn what a terrible idea that really was. Having spent so much time sitting down and forcing her body to be still, her legs had fallen asleep and needed time to adjust to moving around again. She nearly lost her footing and fell over, an act that surely would have resulted in all of her liquid pooling on the floor around her. She was able to keep herself upright, but squealed as a long jet of urine sprayed down her legs. “Martha, are you—“ “Sorry, sorry!” Martha kept repeating. “It’s… Okay…” Lana said. This was a weird thing to watch happen, but Martha evidently needed her help. She walked over to Martha and rested a hand on the small of her back. Martha cringed. She was naked, and now Lana was touching her; But, only to help her get to the toilet on time like an older sibling directing a three year old. Martha didn’t know how this could get worse; The only way she could possibly make herself less attractive to Lana at this point would be to lose control of her bladder completely and drench her legs in urine. Lana said nothing as she helped Martha hobble the short distance to the restroom. Martha wasn’t sure if her silence made the situation better or worse. Any spoken words would serve to make the awkwardness build, but this total lack of communication made it impossible for Martha to know what Lana thought of her now. At last, they reached the door to the room Martha needed to visit so urgently. She dashed in, and was grateful for two things; The lid on the toilet was already up, and she didn’t have any clothing she needed to pull down. She could just fling herself onto the toilet right away, no wasting precious seconds fumbling with anything else. Martha’s urethra was already gushing before she’d managed to sit down all the way, and she was sure she’d sprayed on the seat a little bit. But, she couldn’t bring herself to care in that moment. Her entire body went slack with the realization that she didn’t have to fight anymore, she could finally give in and let nature take its course. Her legs and spine tingled as wave after wave pulsed forth in an intensely powerful hiss. Lana started to back out of the doorway now that Martha was okay, but did so a bit slower than was necessary. For a long time, Lana had heard guys claim that they hated knowing that their girlfriends peed. Some had walked in on them midstream, and had said it was something they wished they could unsee. But now, Lana wasn’t sure what was so terrible about it. Martha’s head was tipped back, her eyes shut and her mouth drooping open ever so slightly. Her butt was not the most shapely that Lana had ever seen, but the way she sat now pushed it up and made it spill over the sides of the toilet seat. She looked weirdly cute. She looked like she could stay that way forever, enjoying the pleasure of emptying her bladder. After well over a minute, Martha was finally drained and joined Lana in the hallway. She felt very ashamed of herself, messing up Lana’s schedule, getting pee on both the chair and the floor, and then forcing Lana to drag her to the restroom… “Lana, I am so, so…” She trailed off, uncertain of how to finish. Sorry? Embarrassed? Pathetic? Disgusting? “…Dumped,” Martha concluded. “Huh?” Lana asked. “You… Think I’m gonna dump you because you... had to PEE?” “The chair,” Martha said. “It—“ “Can be cleaned. Same as the floor,” Lana said. “Relax. This isn’t a big deal.” “Promise?” “Of course,” Lana said. “I should have planned for this, should have told you that if you needed to get up for some reason, it would be okay. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be,” Martha said. “Let’s just finish your drawing. I think I’ll be able to hold the pose a little better now.” “That’s good. I just have to finish your chest; Save the best for last, right?” “Heh…” Martha managed a small half-smile. “And, after I’ve finished,” Lana said. “I mean, if you’re ready and all, I’d like to get a bit more acquainted with your chest.” Maybe Martha wasn’t dumped after all. astralis, Bismiris, Sluttisen and 16 others 15 4 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted February 5, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted February 5, 2022 Martha loved going to renaissance faires. She loved to act, and they gave her such a wonderful opportunity to perform. She was just really starting to second guess her choice of costume. She was wearing a huge purple gown with a long, wide hoop skirt that billowed out around her and went all the way down to her feet. She had been hoping to look like a princess, and according to Lana, she did. It had taken a while to put the costume on, and Lana had needed to assist her a couple times, but now that she was fully dressed, she was positive that she was gorgeous. But, when picking out such an elaborate costume, she’d failed to consider what would happen when she inevitably needed to pee. Like she did now. She knew it would take several minutes to get her clothing adjusted in a way that allowed her to urinate into a toilet, and that doing so would require a great deal of space, and probably help from Lana, too. But, the only toilets at this particular faire were portaloos. Two people couldn’t cram into one of those things together. Martha doubted she could even fit into one by herself while in this costume. And, if she tried to wrestle her way out of it in there, she could fall over, or a part of the costume could even dip into the filthy toilet. It was just impossible. The one upside was that no one who looked at her would be able to tell her tightly crossed her legs were, the skirt concealed that perfectly. But, since it was the whole reason she was being forced to hold it in to begin with, she couldn’t feel very grateful for that. Especially not when she realized the protruding hoops got in the way of her cupping herself when particularly strong spasms assailed her midsection. The worst part, however, was the fact that she knew Lydia and Avery were here today as well. Lydia was Martha’s ex-best friend, they’d had an enormous fight over a year ago and Martha had done some pretty awful things to Lydia in a misguided effort to avoid losing her, succeeding only in pushing her further away instead. Martha had said she was sorry several times, but they were never again on good terms. It had taken Martha a long time to realize that while she DID owe Lydia an apology, Lydia did NOT owe her forgiveness. They now didn’t speak to each other, and Lydia treated her with nothing but coldness. Martha had accepted that, after the things she’d said and done to Lydia during their big blow-up of a feud, the coldness was what she’d earned. But, that didn’t make it hurt less to see Lydia and remember all the time they’d spent together and how she’d never get to experience it again. When she spotted Lydia laughing with Avery, and recalled how not too long ago it was HER whom Lydia would be having fun with, her heart twisted and her chest ached. When she’d first spotted Lydia and Avery in one of the shop stalls that had been set up, Martha had gripped Lana’s shoulder and quickly hurried in the opposite direction. But, they just seemed to keep turning up at the same places at the same time. As Martha’s bladder filled and grew more and more uncomfortable, she’d also had to put in extra effort to hide from her former friend. Now, she could barely focus on keeping an eye out for Lydia, though. As Lana browsed through a selection of scarves in a shop, Martha jumped on the balls of her feet, crossed and uncrossed her legs, and overall just did the best pee-dance she could manage while under the cover of her annoyingly huge skirt. She wished she could cup herself, wished she could rip the skirt and the wire, hooped skeleton it was attached to from her body and launch herself onto the closest toilet. Even the knowledge that no one could see her twisting, spasming legs was not enough to keep her from feeling embarrassed. She couldn’t believe she was so close to having an accident in public. She knew, if she had an accident, she wouldn’t be able to hide that. True, it would just all pool beneath her legs, the wiring pushing out the material of the skirt would keep it away from the line of fire. But, it would still make a sound. Her pees tended to be pretty noisy; especially if she’d been holding it for too long like she had today. Her urine would come out with extreme amounts of force, resulting in a startlingly penetrating hiss. Once, when she’d been sleeping over with Lana, she’d woken up in the middle of the night to pee, and when she’d gotten back, Lana was wide awake and asking if it had begun to rain outside. Martha’s embarrassment that time had been palpable, but it would have nothing on how she’d feel if she gushed out a puddle right here, right now. “Um… Lana?” Martha said timidly. “Hm?” Lana draped a scarf over her neck. “What do you think of—“ “I have to use the restroom…” “Oh, that’s alright. The closest ones are—“ “My costume, though,” Martha said. Lana removed the scarf, put it back on the rack. “Oh, right… Um… Not really sure what to do there…” Martha whimpered, jiggled in place. “It’s kind of an emergency…” Lana thought for a moment that Martha really ought to have spoken up before it had gotten so urgent, but knew scolding her wouldn’t help. “Um… Maybe we can find someone else in a similar costume and ask them what they did about it?” Martha covered her face. “Ughhh, I don’t wanna do that!” She couldn’t even imagine it; Asking a stranger for help peeing! “I know it would be embarrassing, but I mean— I don’t know how to get you out of that thing while squished into a portaloo, so we have to ask someone else, don’t we?” They left the shop and began walking down a trail… And directly into Lydia and Avery. Lydia was carrying an accordion she’d bought from one of the shops, and Martha fought down the memories of all the other ridiculous items Lydia had impulsively bought over the years they’d still been friends. “Oh…” Martha said nervously. “It’s… You…” Martha tried not to look at Lydia, but when her gaze fell on Avery her bladder began to seize and shudder. It was clear that Avery was enduring the same plight that she was. His legs were twisting against one another, ankles rubbing together. Since he wasn’t wearing a costume that concealed his legs, his pee-dance was extremely obvious. But, the upside for Avery not wearing a costume that was anything like Martha’s was that even if he couldn’t hide his fidgeting, his clothing was not restricting his access to relief. Lucky bastard. Lydia raised a hand a little awkwardly, “Yeah… Hey…” she said quietly. After that, they all just fell silent. The tension between them was heavy enough it ought to have created a visible cloud of fog. Finally, Avery broke the silence; “I—I’m sorry,” he said. “Have either of you seen a restroom anywhere? Sorry— I’m… I’m really bursting…” That broke the tension a little bit as Lydia and Lana both laughed. “Yeah,” Lydia said. “He’s been telling me he’s got to pee for the past two hours—“ “Two and a half!” Avery whined. “And, you kept telling me 'in a minute', but I don’t have any more minutes left, so—“ “And, I’ve been trying to find you a restroom,” Lydia interrupted. “I promise, I have. I just can’t find one.“ “Well, then it’s your fault if I get a bladder infection!” Avery said. Lana giggled, still smiling. It was obvious Avery did not like the level of amusement she clearly found in his suffering, but she couldn’t help it. He looked like he was trying to do an Irish river dance while slightly intoxicated. Jumping from foot to foot over and over and occasionally getting tangled up on his own legs. She did know how to get to the nearest portaloos though. She could show him the way… But, she probably shouldn’t bring Martha. Lana knew it would be cruel to take Avery to pee before she’d figured out a way to help Martha relieve herself too. “I know where the toilets are,” she said. “I can take you, if you wa—“ “Oh, thank you so much,” Avery said. “You guys wait here, we’ll be back in a bit,” Lana said to Lydia and Martha. She started off down a path, Avery entering a fumbly, hobbling jog beside her. And then, Martha was alone. With Lydia. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Martha just kept rocking back and forth, each hand holding the opposite arm in a vice grip, and her breaths coming out in choppy, panicked gasps. Urine was beading down her legs at an alarming rate, her bladder was dying and was now constantly issuing tiny dribbles of warmth as her kidneys continued pumping away. She was full and overflowing, and the last thing she wanted was to have an accident in front of Lydia. Please. No. Not Lydia. She’d even rather do it in front of Lana. At least, she knew Lana would comfort her afterwards. But Lydia… Lydia had been an ice queen towards her since their fight, and the best Martha could hope for was that Lydia just wouldn’t say anything at all. Martha kept up her rocking, it was the only thing keeping the tide at bay. The only thing that— “Do you have to go too?” Lydia asked suddenly. “What?” “Because you should have just gone with them.” Martha scowled and looked away. “I don’t need your advice, Lydia.” “Well, okay,” Lydia shrugged. “Be that way. If you want to wet yourself that’s not my problem.” Martha squeezed her thighs tight as the dribbles picked up in pace. Lydia’s prediction was quickly coming true. “I wanted to go with them,” she said. “I really did, but…” she gestured at her skirt. “This thing’s in the way.” Lydia finally turned her body to fully face Martha. “…Oh. Yeah. It does look a little complicated…” “I should have worn something else… It’s dumb anyway. I’m too old to play princess.” “No. It… It looks good on you… I mean, it’s not my style. But, on you it’s… Fine.” Martha tapped her feet, began practically stomping them. “How did anybody ever pee during the actual renaissance!?” she demanded angrily. “Oh,” Lydia said. “I think I— I remember reading something this one time. Like, when women wore gowns like that, they’d literally just spread their legs overtop of something and just… Go. And, I don’t think they wore underpants back then, or at least not anything like what we have today, and the skirts were so wide nothing would—“ “Lydia, stop talking. You’re making it worse.” “I’m just saying, you could maybe go in the grass somewhere that’s less crowded. Nobody’d even be able to tell so long as you just stood really still and didn’t make a funny face.” “Somebody could still hear it,” Martha pointed out. Lydia frowned, then looked down to the accordion she held. “Not if there’s something to cover up the noise!” “Do you even know how to play that thing?” “No, I just got it,” Lydia said. “But, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to be a nice sound, just a sound.” “Would you actually be willing to help me?” Martha asked. She thought, in the back of her mind, that Lydia was just taunting her. Offering her a chance for relief before cruelly taking it back away. “Yeah,” Lydia said. “Just because we aren’t friends anymore, that doesn’t mean I think you deserve to have an accident in public.” “O—Okay,” Martha said. And with that, the two ducked into a bit of the brush that flanked the trails. “Do you have um… Anything on that you need to take off first?” Lydia asked, hoping that Martha could manage that herself. Martha’s face flushed. “Um, no…” she admitted. “It’s… A very accurate costume.” “Eheh… Okay, then…” Lydia began to play her accordion. Though ‘play’ was perhaps not the best word. It was more like she was torturing it, and the anguished wails that sounded from its body were a testament to that. Martha cringed at the awful sound, but spread her legs as far apart from one another as she could. Now that nothing was in the way and attempting to obstruct the flow, the dribbly spurts she’d been unable to control for the past several minutes instantly gave way to a torrential downpour. She was at last relieving herself with typical gusto, and even the decibels of her infamous hiss didn’t manage to overpower the sound of Lydia’s horrid attempts to produce something that could be considered music. Panicked, she looked down at herself, but no portion of her skirt was darkening, no part of her outfit felt damp. In fact, there was no visible sign that she was peeing at all. The skirt went all the way to the ground, and none of the liquid now spattering the grass between her legs could be seen. She could somewhat feel a few wayward drops flicking against the sides of her feet, but other than that, she could reasonably say that she’d made it; She hadn’t had an accident after all. Remembering what Lydia had said, she concentrated really hard on keeping her expression nonplussed. But, it was really hard to do. The sensation of release after so much time of agonizing restraint was making her almost lightheaded. She bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to sigh or moan. She fought very hard to keep her eyes open as her torrent gushed on and on and on. She pushed harder, making her stream increase in intensity and speed. As good as this felt, she wanted to finish up before Lana and Avery got back and wondered where she’d gone. And, truth be told, she wanted to put a stop to Lydia’s abysmal accordion skills before they gave her the biggest migraine in history. When her gushing waterfall came at last to a stop, and she was no longer burdened by her bladder, Martha realized she didn’t have anything to wipe off with. But, deciding a little bit of dampness between her legs was better than a full-blown accident, she just took a step back from the puddle she’d made and told Lydia she’d finished. Lydia ceased her infernal racket, and then Martha actually did exhale a well overdue sigh of relief. “Um… Thank you,” she told Lydia. “You’re welcome. And, if you were worried, I won’t tell anybody about this. I promise." Martha knew there was a reason they’d been friends once. kenn, Resch, david_578 and 6 others 5 1 3 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted February 6, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted February 6, 2022 Martha took costume shopping extremely seriously. Extremely. Seriously. And it showed; Whenever Martha dressed up, she looked absolutely stunning. She went all out. One year when attending a faire, she’d dressed as an elf, complete with pointed prosthetics over her ears that blended seamlessly with her own flesh and looked completely real. When she wanted to dress as a hideous witch, she somehow managed to change what Lana saw as a beautiful face, perfectly clear skin and altogether gorgeous body into a lumpy, monstrous form like something from a nightmare; Covered in boils, warts and pustules from head to toe. When Martha was in costume, she truly did transform. Lana did enjoy seeing the new ways Martha concealed herself and tried on new skin like a chameleon, until today; This would be the first Halloween the two dressed up in a couples’ costume. Lana had been excited about the idea at first, only to discover exactly how seriously Martha took this whole thing. They’d been to dozens of stores already, none of which had been up to Martha’s implausibly high standards. Lana had tried on what felt like hundreds of garments, but Martha found a flaw in every piece of material they came across. Lana didn’t usually like shopping to begin with, unless it was for art supplies, but this was by far one of her worst experiences with it to-date. Not only was it exhausting to try on pile after pile of clothing, but Lana’s bladder had been angrily needling at her for at least two hours now. It certainly didn’t help that the stalls in the changing rooms were all painfully similar to the stalls in a restroom. The visuals seemed to be confusing her bladder, because every time she stepped into one of the changing stalls, it spasmed and tried to loosen itself, and she’d need to squeeze her legs tight to keep any spillage at bay. She’d made a few attempts to head in the direction of a toilet whenever she’d managed to spot the signage for one, but Martha seemed to be totally oblivious to her need and always managed to tug her off in a different direction. Obviously, she should have just told Martha that she needed to pee, but for most of the day she’d just felt too embarrassed. Then, when her need passed from ‘urgent-but-manageable’ to ‘extreme-emergency’, it was close to time for the mall they were at to close and they still hadn’t found appropriate costumes. There wasn’t time to backtrack all the way to a restroom, pee, and then resume the search. Martha picked out several matching costumes and handed them to Lana, whom hobbled into one of the changing rooms to start trying them on. Over the last several hours, she’d discovered that getting undressed and re-dressed over and over again while really, really needing a toilet was the exact antithesis of a good time. Having to bend down and stretch out would compress her bladder, and she’d have to clench her muscles extra tight to avoid leaking. But, the worst part was always unzipping and pulling her pants down. After years and years of those actions being the precursor to sitting down on a toilet and letting it flow, her bladder grew more and more confused each time she did this and then didn’t allow it to release a few seconds afterward. Every time she registered the sound of her zipper parting, her muscles would loosen themselves and she’d have to cross her legs and bend over slightly to keep her need in check. Another thing that didn’t help was that a lot of the costumes Martha had been grabbing were skin-tight. Ordinarily, Lana would be happy that Martha wanted to see her in something that showed off her body so well, but in her current circumstance the material would cling too much to her bladder. A few times when she’d looked into the mirror, she’d actually seen a bit of a bump protruding in her center. She didn’t think she’d ever needed to pee so badly that it had left her looking swollen. Some of the costumes were also complicated to put on and take off. Like the dragon costume she was putting on now. Not only did it consist of a skin-tight, scaly suit, it also zipped up the back, requiring her to bend in an unusual way that made her abdomen feel like it was going to rip wide open. She bit her lip and hissed through her teeth as she finally pulled the zipper up all the way. She looked herself over. All things considered, she did like what she saw. If her bladder hadn’t been full enough to be visible, she was certain she would have looked even better, but still this wasn’t bad. The suit accentuated her curves well, and the claws on the gloves she’d put on looked menacing and cool. She hoped Martha would approve. That way, they could finally stop with this and she could try and make it to a toilet before the mall closed. She thought she could do it if they left right now. She knew exactly where the closest restroom was. She’d spent the last several hours lingering each time they walked past one. Lana stepped out of the changing stall in the costume. “M—Martha?” she called, her voice wavering. She hoped Martha didn’t notice. “Do you like it?” Martha opened the door to her own stall. She was dressed in a knight costume, and it looked awesome. Lana told her as much. She’d said Martha had looked awesome in every single thing she’d tried on so far that day, not that Martha had ever seemed to agree. Martha was staring at Lana, her mouth open. Lana realized her legs were crossed and that she’d been jiggling in her spot for the last several seconds. She tried to straighten herself out. “Wow…” Martha said. “These. Definitely these.” Lana breathed a tentative sigh of relief. “Okay. That’s great,” she said. She almost added “Because I seriously need the restroom,” but shame held her back. She didn’t need to give all the details, she wanted to preserve a bit of mystery in their relationship and that was just one thing she didn’t have to talk about. It was a long walk back to the part of the city where they lived, it would only make sense for them to stop at the toilets before leaving. No reason to bring it up, or to whine like a toddler in the midst of potty training. She went back into the stall, her bladder panging as she pulled the lock into place. Whose idea was it to use the exact same kind of lock in here that was always used in restroom stalls!? She removed the claw gloves, then reached up behind her neck to unzip the suit. She tugged it, and couldn’t get it to move. Her heart pounding, she crossed her legs back together once more and felt around the zipper, trying to deduce if it was snagged. She couldn’t tell. It would probably be easier to have someone else get her out of this suit. She just had to wait for Martha. Martha’s costume didn’t have such an irritating zipper on it, so she should be available any second now. But, Lana didn’t have ‘any’ second, she only had the one she was currently living in. The one in which she really, really had to pee and she was scared her boiling bladder would sear straight through her skin. She rocked back and forth on her heels before throwing herself down on the bench. She doubled over so far that the top of her head brushed against the carpeted flooring. She cupped herself with both hands, trying to catch her breath and regain her fraying control. When she glanced to the side and saw her reflection, she moaned aloud at the sight. She looked so pathetic! She tried to straighten herself back out, bouncing up and down over and over on the bench, hands kneading against her crotch. Her bladder was doing cartwheels inside of her body, dismayed by all this extra waiting. She crossed her legs even tighter, the skintight material of the suit cutting into the stone of her bladder. There was a knock on the door to her stall. “Lana? You ready?” Martha called. “I can’t get the costume off!” Lana replied hoarsely. “Oh,” Martha said, and Lana heard her laugh a little. “Want me to help you?” “Yes, please!” Lana called. She forced herself to her feet, feeling a tiny dribble of urine slip out with the motion. It was a good thing she was buying the costume she had on… She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to moan out loud, before unlocking the door. Martha stepped in and looked Lana over. She didn’t look so good… She was swaying on her feet and looked positively frazzled. “Tired?” Martha guessed. “It’s been a long day…” Lana tried to nod. “I’d like to get out of here,” she said. “Okay,” Martha said, reaching to the zipper on Lana’s back. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away, I just… I wanted our first Halloween to be perfect, you know?” “…Yeah,” Lana said. Martha tugged the zipper. “Oh, it’s a little stuck,” she said. “Hold on.” Lana, who had been so preoccupied by her need for the toilet took a few seconds to fully realize— Martha was undressing her. The agony of her bladder pulsing under the suit was too intense for her to feel that turned on, but it was still exciting. Then Martha tugged again and announced that it may take a minute, and Lana couldn’t stop herself from moaning as she bounced some more. “Hey, it’s alright,” Martha said. “There’s still fifteen minutes until they close, don’t wor—“ “I need to use the restroom,” Lana said softly. “…Oh,” Martha said, now understanding Lana’s tight posture and twitching body. “Well, I’ll have you out in a minute or two, just—“ “Hurry…” Lana pleaded, and now that Martha knew she needed to pee she felt no reason to keep hiding it. Her hands went back to clutching between her quivering thighs. “I will, I’m hurrying,” Martha set to work yanking and pulling on the zipper, finally it came loose and was able to be dragged downward. Soon the upper part of Lana’s back was bare and a second after that, in spite of how tightly she was cupping herself, Lana was peeing. Panicked, Lana pressed even more firmly against herself and looked down to find no puddle forming. The sudden feeling of fading pressure had merely been the area of the suit that had been pressing into her bladder loosening away. It had just given her bladder more of the room it needed to expand. The absence of the tight material was such a relief that it felt almost like peeing… She felt more capable of holding it for however long it took to get to a toilet. When the suit was finally off, she could see even more clearly the straining bowling ball that had taken up residence in the center of her body. Martha noticed it too. “Wow… You… You DO need to go…” Lana wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. This was her first time being totally naked in front of Martha, and the first thing she’d noticed was her bladder! She crossed her legs and tried not to let the embarrassment show, “I—“ “Hurry and get your clothes on,” Martha said. “I… I really think you might be starting to hurt yourself! Jeez, you should have told me it was so bad!” So, Martha had only zeroed in on that out of concern, Lana realized. That was a little better… That meant Martha was just worried, not that she didn’t find Lana attractive. Lana hurried to tug on her shirt, then pulled her pants up as fast as she could. She could not, however, bring herself to button them. The pressure of closing her pants around her waist would most definitely be too much, so she just pulled her shirt down a little further to cover it up. “Okay, let’s go,” Martha said. “I’ll buy the costumes, you just go pee, alright?” “O—Okay,” Lana said, trying not to let her voice tremble too much. Lana rushed from the changing rooms, but then found her gait slowing to a painful, mincing, contorted hobble as her bladder protested the harsh pounding of her feet against the ground. She was dribbling again, and she didn’t want to hold herself anymore now that she wasn’t in the privacy of a stall. But, she couldn’t help it, if she didn’t try to press herself shut, she’d burst. She made it out of the store with only a couple more leaks. She tried to remember where the closest toilet was, and realized it was just a couple shops down. Each step was like a knife through her body and when she finally saw the sign for the women’s room, she thought she may have cried. She shoved the door open, and was stunned by how happy a person could be to see a row of toilet stalls. She immediately ducked into the nearest one, noisily drew the lock into place, yanked down her pants and threw herself down onto the toilet. She collapsed back against the tank of the toilet, relief flowed over her and out of her, her lips fell open in slack-jawed bliss. She actually started to tear up from the sensation. The pure goodness of letting her bladder drain after such a long time spent holding it back was all Lana could understand for a long time. Pee just continued to jet out of her, pounding against the water in the toilet bowl. The room was empty and aside from the sounds of Lana’s thunderous stream and all the sighs that continually fell from her lips, there was no sound. After an age, her bladder was at last emptied, but she just sat there for a moment in a daze. It took her a bit to remember how to stand back up again. Once she’d pulled her pants on and washed off her hands, she exited the room to find Martha waiting for her. Lana felt herself going warm with humiliation. “I’m sorry, that was gross,” Lana said. “What?” Martha asked. “You just had to pee. Are you okay? You feel good now?” “So good,” Lana admitted. “But, I should have said something earlier, I just—“ “Yeah. You should have.” “I just didn’t want to waste time, I know the costume stuff is important to you.” Martha hugged Lana close, “Not as important as your health, silly.” Melificentfan, Sluttisen, Manticore and 6 others 6 1 2 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted February 7, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted February 7, 2022 “This is the best number in the whole show,” Martha whispered excitedly. “Shhhh!” A number of people around her within the dark theater hissed. Offering them a forced smile from her blushing face, she silenced herself. Lana reached a hand over to give Martha’s a squeeze. “Hey, don’t worry,” Lana whispered. “I know you can’t help how excited you get over musicals sometimes.” Her gentle grasp and soothing words caused Martha to sigh and loosen up again. “Thanks, Lana,” Martha said, making sure to keep her voice down. “I’m glad I’m seeing this with someone who doesn’t judge me for getting too excited over the stuff I love.” Lana squeezed Martha’s hand again, feeling a tingle run through her as she returned her attention to the stage. A couple hours later, the performance met its end and the audience began making their way out. “Wow,” Martha said. “It’s even better seeing it a third time!” She wrapped her arms around Lana, giving her a tight hug. While Lana melted into the embrace, the strong grip elicited a strong spasm from her center, powerful enough to make her squeeze her legs together. “Ah, let go!” Lana said as she pulled the other’s wrists away. “That was a pretty long show, and I didn’t use the bathroom before leaving.” “Oh,” Martha said. “I didn’t realize you had to tinkle.” “Don’t say it like that, Martha,” Lana said with a nervous laugh. “It’s embarrassing.” “Lana has to tinkle,” Martha repeated, making Lana laugh again as they left the theater. “If you keep making me laugh, I’m not going to make it,” Lana said. “Okay,” Martha said, leaning over to give Lana’s cheek a light kiss. “I should probably go too. It’s a long way back home.” A few minutes later, they’d made it to the end of the line for the women’s restroom. After several minutes of waiting and hearing streams flow and toilets flush— Sounds which had made Lana cross her legs and jiggle even as embarrassment bolted through her— The two were finally at the front. Both of them took stalls side by side. Lana shut and locked the door behind her, her bladder starting to loosen up at the sight of the toilet. She realized now just how full she was and was surprised she’d lasted through that whole show. She pulled her pants down and took a seat on the toilet. Before she could relieve the pressure swelling her bladder, her eyes flicked down and caught the sight of the shoes in the stall next to hers. Oh right, Martha was right beside her. While she was sitting on the toilet, peeing. Or, NOT peeing, rather… Lana’s ears picked up on the sound of a stream hissing in the next stall, followed by a small sigh from Martha’s lips. Now, of course, Lana had peed in bathroom stalls beside other women lots of times, more than enough times to know how audible the trickling was, but this time the knowledge made Lana feel different. When she started peeing, Martha was going to hear every last drop. Lana tried to shoo those thoughts from her mind and just do what she’d come here to do. She really did have to pee after all, and had expected it to just burst right out the instant she’d seated herself. But, her stream was still locked away inside her body. What the Hell? Confused, she tried to kind of push down on her muscles, but this action did not make her feel any closer to letting it flow. She even tried prodding a hand over her lower abdomen, but this only produced pain rather than a stream. She just kept thinking about how Martha was gonna be able to hear her peeing, and the more she thought about that, the more determined her bladder seemed to be to remain full. A few seconds later, she heard Martha stand up and flush and panic flooded her veins. Lana really had to hurry up and go now, or Martha was gonna get real confused why she was just sitting in a restroom stall and not doing anything. Lana shut her eyes tightly and told herself Martha was at the sinks now, she wouldn’t hear her, but now that she felt the need to rush, her muscles were just tightening more and more and she couldn’t get anything out. The sensation of the toilet seat beneath her was making her need worsen, but her body still refused to give in. Finally, and with a great deal of frustration, Lana stood and pulled her pants back up before exiting the stall, with a bladder that felt fuller than it had been when she’d entered it. She could NOT understand what had happened in there, but decided she could wait until she got home to pee. Even if washing her hands at the sink made her want to turn back around and try again as her bladder throbbed with new vigor. “Better?” Martha asked Lana once she’d left the restroom. Lana couldn’t bring herself to admit that no, she didn’t feel better at all, she still really had to go. So, she forced a nod. She was extremely confused. Nothing like THAT had ever happened to her before. Ordinarily, the second she felt the toilet seat underneath her body, her bladder would instantly know what it was time for and release. She didn’t have to think about it, it just happened. So, why was it different this time? As she and Martha left the building, Lana wondered if maybe her need for the bathroom was just her imagination. She was a little unsure how that could be the case, because it definitely REALLY felt like she had to pee, but if nothing was coming out, then that had to mean there wasn’t actually anything in there, right? But, as she and Martha kept walking down the street, every step made Lana more and more aware of the pressure within herself. She could practically feel her bladder sloshing. She definitely DID need to pee! But then, why wouldn’t it come out? That, to her, sounded like a serious problem. Peeing was a basic necessity, it couldn’t be put off forever. If she couldn’t get her bladder to empty, then the discomfort she was feeling would become unbearably awful. Her heart actually started to pound, what in the world was the matter with her? Was there something wrong with her bladder? Were the muscles… broken? Could that happen? Or, did she have a kidney stone? She was only eighteen! Did eighteen year olds even GET kidney stones? Was the problem… Lower? Like, was something… Obstructing the flow? How would that even HAPPEN, though? Cancer could happen in the bladder, couldn’t it? Was this one of the early warning signs? Oh, God. What if it was? What if she had Cancer? There WAS a history of Cancer in her family, so it wasn’t too inconceivable that— “Lana?” Martha abruptly stopped walking. “You’re breathing funny… What’s the matter?” “I was… Thinking about something,” Lana said. “But, I’m okay. Don’t worry.” She felt a little silly now for jumping straight to thinking that she had a fatal illness just because she couldn’t pee. There were probably a myriad of other explanations that weren’t deadly, even if she didn’t know what they were. Maybe once she was home and had another chance to use the toilet, whatever this problem was would have resolved itself and she’d be able to go just like always. The thought of that made her tense her thighs a little as she and Martha paused at a crosswalk. She wanted to bounce in her place, but doing so would grab Martha’s attention again and Lana didn’t know if she’d be able to come up with a decent excuse for being so wriggly. And she really didn’t want to admit she had to pee when Martha THOUGHT she’d only just gone! “What were you thinking about?” Martha asked when the sign changed and they were able to cross the street. Lana worried at her lip, “N—Nothing,” she said. “It was… Nothing…” She was mentally counting down the blocks they still had left to walk before they reached a subway station. Then the stops they’d have to wait through before they reached Lana’s. Then all the distance she’d still have to walk to get home… Her bladder seemed to swell more and more at the thought of all the ground she still had left to cover before she reached a toilet— One that she still wasn’t one hundred percent positive would grant her relief. What if when she got home and sat on the bowl, her bladder STILL didn’t want to empty? What would she do THEN? “Lana—“ “It’s nothing,” Lana insisted. Martha fell silent. The worst feeling in the world overtook her stomach. The one that felt like it was opening up and turning itself into a bottomless pit. She knew Lana was not rejecting her right now, that whatever this was was simply not something she wanted to discuss, but the ache was still there. The painful tug of feeling closed out and abandoned. She tried not to feel this way, her therapist had told her many, many times that her intense fear of being alone caused her to overreact and cling to people when they needed space. She knew that, for the most part, her fears were unfounded; Lana not talking to her about one thing did not mean that Lana no longer liked her, but the spinning wheels in Martha’s brain insisted to her that Lana was trying to shut her out. She very nearly tried to push it further, but ‘pushing things further’ when the other person hadn’t been in the mood was part of the reason she and Lydia were no longer friends. So, Martha fought down the urge and told herself that if Lana wanted her to know what the problem was, she’d tell her. Lana absolutely did NOT want Martha to know what her problem was! But, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to make the problem more obvious. Every time they stopped walking, Lana would cross her legs. She tried to make it look casual, but she was squeezing them so tight she knew that it couldn’t have appeared very natural. Her bladder felt like a water balloon that was wrapped around a nozzle turned on full-blast. It was expanding and expanding, stretching out further than it was meant to. It was in danger of popping. They finally reached the subway station. Martha easily walked down the steps, but Lana struggled to follow her. She felt like one wrong move would cause the balloon inside her abdomen to break apart and flood its contents all the way down the stairs. Every time she eased herself down a step, her bladder would convulse and she had to fight down the urge to cup her hands against herself. The twisting ache within her body was becoming more and more painful by the second. When she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Martha was looking at her. Lana forced herself to straighten up. Forced herself to smile. Forced herself to pretend that she HAD peed back at the theater, that she’d sprayed out a nice, thick stream into the toilet and so now had a perfectly empty bladder and didn’t need anything at all. Martha was very worried. Lana had basically stumbled down the stairs as if both her shoes had pointed spikes embedded in their heels. She’d been bracing herself with the handrail the whole time and appeared to have been having a very difficult time not falling down them. Maybe she was dizzy? A stomach ache? She SO badly wanted to ask Lana if she was okay, but Lana didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk. What if Lana got mad at her for continuing to ask her questions? “Martha…” Lana said. “I’m… Not feeling well.” She knew she couldn’t possibly pass for ‘normal’ anymore. Better to have Martha think she was coming down with the flu than know she was holding back what felt like several liters of piss. “How much further to my apartment?” Wow, Martha thought. Lana really must not be feeling good if she couldn’t even remember the way back to her own home! “We’re close,” she said. “Is… Is your stomach hurting?” It… Actually kind of was. The pressure in Lana’s bladder was beginning to course through her entire lower half, and it WAS making her stomach ache. She nodded. “Hopefully you’ll get a place to sit down on the train…” Martha said. “Come on…” A few minutes later, Lana was sat on the subway, her bladder protesting loudly every time it jostled her. She was sitting atop her hands, trying to keep them from pressing into her crotch as her knees jiggled and fanned in and out in front of her. Her pulse was racing as she counted down the stops that were left. Her bladder was painfully full and she was scared now that she’d never make it home. Whatever problem had plugged her up at the theater must have been gone now, because she’d leaked the first uncontainable spurt of urine into her pants a few minutes ago. This had been equal parts horrifying and relieving. It was horrifying that she’d wet herself a little in public, but relieving that doing so had confirmed that she COULD, in fact, still pee. Maybe she’d go to a store or something on the way back to her apartment building. That could work! Martha got off at a different stop, so she wouldn’t be there to think it was weird Lana already had to go again. It would be fine! She’d dash into the first place she saw with an available bathroom, fling herself onto the toilet and release everything at long, long last… The fantasy was perhaps a little too vivid, as another little squirt of liquid hissed out of her and her thighs clenched and rubbed together as she fought to stop it. When they reached her stop, Lana stood very, very gently. It felt like she was attempting to move while balancing an extremely full glass of water in her hands, trying her damnedest not to let it spill. But, spill it did. A third leak warmed her drying pants and then she DID put a hand between her legs, fingers digging firmly against her urethra. The relief this brought was great, but she forced herself to let go a second later when Martha spoke; “I’ll walk you the rest of the way home,” she said. “Y—You don’t have to do that…” Lana said. She couldn’t make it all the way home! She had to stop somewhere to pee! Martha nodded, “You’re sick,” she said. “I want to make sure you get home safe.” “I—“ “Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” Martha promised, following Lana as she hobbled from the train. Going up the stairs to exit the station was even worse than going down them had been earlier. Martha stayed right by her side and held onto her arm to steady her, unwittingly preventing her from pressing her hands firmly against herself like she so badly wanted to. Every step made a few more drops escape, made her bladder feel like it was being bounced up and down, poked with a sharp pin… “Lana, it’s okay,” Martha said. “When you get home, ask your Dad or Grandpa for some medicine. And get lots of sleep, okay? Sleep’s really important when you’re sick.” Lana wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. She couldn’t listen. Her bladder was screaming so loudly she could hear nothing else. When they reached the top of the staircase, Martha released her arm and Lana stumbled forward, hands cramming between her legs. “Ohhh…” she moaned. “We’re almost there,” Martha promised. “You can lay down and everything will be—“ She stopped, eyes stilling on the placement of Lana’s hands. “Lana…?” “Martha…” Lana choked out. It was hard to speak through all the shame and desperation she felt. “I… I need to—“ “You didn’t go at the theater…” Martha said, suddenly comprehending at least some of Lana’s behavior. She understood perfectly well now why she’d been walking so strangely, why she’d been breathing so heavily, why she’d been so quiet… But, she didn’t understand at ALL why she hadn’t peed back at the theater. She’d seen Lana come out of a stall. What had she been doing in there if she hadn’t been peeing? “I… Couldn’t,” Lana admitted, her explanation making no sense to her even though it was the truth. “You couldn’t?” Martha repeated. “What do you mean? I know you got a turn in a stall, what—“ “I… I don’t know,” Lana whimpered. Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. She was just so embarrassed and confused and her bladder HURT… “I… I mean— I… I sat down like always, but… Nothing happened. I… Couldn’t.” Martha shook her head. She didn’t understand this at all. What did Lana mean ‘she couldn’t’? She’d been on a toilet, her pants presumably down… There was zero reason she shouldn’t have been able to pee. But, Lana was obviously very upset and in pain right now, and that took precedence over Martha’s confusion. “There’s a store across the street that should have a bathroom,” she said. “Come on.” Again, Martha was steadying Lana as they walked along. Again, every step was making Lana leak little drops. But, unlike before, Lana was now cupping herself for dear life, so humiliated that Martha was seeing her do it, but unable to stop. They entered the store, and Martha quickly took Lana to the back and flung open the door to the ladies’ room. She helped her hobble to a stall and then finally released her hold on her. “There you go!” she said. Lana gave her a short half-nod, then quickly shut the door and fumbled the lock into place. She ripped down her pants and slammed herself onto the toilet seat. This was going to feel amazing! Except… It still wouldn’t come out. She still couldn’t go. Her brain began firing just like it had back at the theater. Martha was going to hear her pee as it hissed and sprayed and splashed. And it would be even worse HERE since Martha was not also peeing, just standing there and worrying about her! Lana’s muscles, rather than going loose and light with relief, tightened and twisted around each other, refusing to let more than a few errant drops plink into the bowl beneath her. Martha waited outside the stall. She’d been expecting to hear Lana peeing right away, but there was just silence. Maybe Lana wet herself as soon as she saw the toilet? Well, no, that couldn’t be it. Martha would have still heard that, right? ‘She really… Can’t go?’ Martha thought. Even now that she was witnessing the problem for herself, it still didn’t make any sense. She stepped forward and knocked on the stall door. “Lana…? Are you okay?” “No!” Lana exclaimed, and then began to cry. “Martha, it hurts!” Martha’s chest ached. “Just… Try to relax?” she knew that was horrible advice. If someone had to TRY to relax, then there was no way they could actually BE relaxed. “I’m trying!” Lana sobbed back. “I can’t… I can’t…” Martha was panicking now too, “Do you need the hospital!?” she asked. “I can— I can call someone? I—“ “I need…” Lana managed, her voice hoarse and choked with her misery. “I… Can you go wait outside the room, please? Please, Martha? I can’t… I don’t… I don’t think I can go with you there! I just— Please, Martha, it hurts so bad!” Martha took a hesitant step backwards. “You…?” “I can’t do it with you in here!” Lana exclaimed. “I really, really can’t! Please, just leave!” And that was it. Lana really was shutting her out. “…Okay…” Martha creaked out, hollow. “I’ll go…” She returned to the door, and stepped out of the restroom. She knew that this was utterly ridiculous. Lana wanting privacy while she used the bathroom was NOT Lana rejecting her. She’d meant ‘Just leave, I want to be by myself while I pee’, not ‘Just leave, I don’t want you around’. It was absurd to think otherwise. And it was even stupider that now, Martha was thinking about how a part of Lana’s body didn’t like her; As if Lana’s bladder had an actual brain and could form its own opinions. Inside the restroom, Lana heard the door swing shut behind Martha. She was alone now. Martha wouldn’t hear a thing, she didn’t have to worry about Martha overhearing— PPPPSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! “Ohhhh….!!” … That. An intense torrent of piss blasted the water beneath Lana, splashing and hissing furiously. This was followed immediately by an involuntary moan of indescribable relief. She slumped forward as her bodily forcibly ejected every drop of pee she’d been forcing it to retain inside. She felt like she was releasing buckets and buckets of liquid, and that feeling was something incredible… She sat up straighter and rubbed a hand over her lower belly, trying to massage away all the aching that was still present within it. To her surprise, stroking herself there as pee swirled out of her overtaxed bladder made it all feel even better. The sensation of something inside her shrinking and deflating became more and more pronounced, and it drew forth yet another moan. “Ahhh…” Her stream at last died off and after cleaning herself up and straightening her clothing in the mirror, she exited the restroom, feeling like she could walk on air. “Thank you…” she said to Martha. Martha looked at her girlfriend, no longer contorted, no longer crying, no longer pained… And all she’d needed to get to that point was for… Martha to… go away… “Why’d you need me to leave?” Lana looked away. “Like I said, I don’t know,” she said. “But, when I thought about you hearing me… Go… I just… Couldn’t do it. It’s not that I don’t trust you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I think… You know, I just don’t want the girl that I really, REALLY like to overhear me peeing.” Martha felt a little better hearing that. Lana didn’t struggle with peeing around her because she didn’t like her, Lana struggled with peeing around her because she DID like her a whole lot. rainworlder, Resch, david_578 and 6 others 6 1 1 1 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted November 2, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted November 2, 2022 Written for the Omovember prompt "Peeing While Someone Watches." *** Martha wanted to help Lana. It wouldn’t be good for their relationship if Lana couldn’t go to the toilet around her. What would happen if they ever decided to live together? Lana couldn’t just hold it indefinitely, or kick Martha out every time she had to go. That just wouldn’t work. Martha didn’t know HOW to help Lana, though. The whole idea of this was still weirdly upsetting to Martha. Irrational though it may have been, the thought that a part of Lana’s body really just didn’t like having her around was painful. And it didn’t make sense, either. Peeing was… Just peeing! It was easy, not the sort of thing a person had to TRY to do. Martha did her best to recall a time where urinating had required anything more out of her than just sitting down on a toilet seat and letting it happen. But, she couldn’t think of any such occurrence. She’d never had to think about it, she’d never had to work at it, she just… Found a toilet and peed. Wasn’t that how everyone did it? Apparently not Lana. But, why? Martha eventually found herself researching the problem, which wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. She didn’t even know what to search for. The phrase ‘My Girlfriend Can’t Pee’ did pull up a few results, but nothing useful. ‘Why can’t my girlfriend hold her pee after having sex?’ ‘Can I urinate on my girlfriend’ ‘Why does my girlfriend feel like she needs to pee during sex’ ‘My girlfriend has a weak bladder and can’t hold her pee’ Martha frowned. She was at least learning SOME new things, but none of those things were interesting to her or helpful. She tried again, now shortening the search to simply ‘can’t pee’. This brought up information on something called ‘urinary retention’, which Martha quickly learned could be a serious problem. The article she found even explained that urinary retention usually needed urgent medical attention, often involving catheterization. The condition had numerous causes, a lot of which sounded pretty bad, things like nerve damage, diabetes, or even a tumor! The symptoms were simple, with the biggest one being that the person had trouble making themselves pee even when desperate to go. That was EXACTLY what had happened to Lana, and Martha’s heart started to pound. Lana could have ended up in the hospital that night! Lana might have something really serious going wrong in her body. What if she did have a tumor? Or diabetes? And, since she didn’t know about it, didn’t know she had to see a doctor, was she just going to get sicker? She clicked the links for ‘tumors’ and ‘diabetes’, and a moment later her entire body relaxed. There were lots of other symptoms for those things. Aside from the urinary retention thing, Lana didn’t have any of them. So, Martha tried her search a third time. This time, she went with ‘Can’t pee around girlfriend’ and hit enter. Immediately, the top result sounded a lot closer to what Lana was dealing with. The article detailed a form of social anxiety in which a person found it difficult or impossible to pee when someone else was near them. To Martha’s relief, the article explained that there was nothing physically wrong with Lana’s body, that this problem was just inside her head. There was one thing that didn’t make Martha feel better, though. According to the article, a person with Paruresis had trouble peeing around ANYBODY, but Lana only seemed to have a problem around HER. If this shy-bladder thing was just how Lana ALWAYS was, then Martha thought she’d feel better about it, she wouldn’t stress that it spelled doom for them as a couple. But, since Lana was exclusively pee-shy around her and her alone, Martha felt that she had reason to worry. The more she read, the more she fretted. Apparently, people who had shy bladders would sometimes have a ‘pee partner’ to help them out, someone they trusted to have around while they tried to urinate in a public setting. So then, why was Martha the ONE person Lana had this trouble with? Shouldn’t Lana have trusted Martha MORE than anyone else? Martha tried to put it out of her head, tried telling herself that this wasn’t a big deal. But, it was. She was hopeful that she and Lana would stay together for years. She was hopeful that she and Lana would one day share a home. How in the world could Lana ever live with someone that she couldn’t use the toilet near? Martha’s research told her that maybe, after enough times trying it, Lana would get more comfortable peeing around her. So, Martha decided it would be a good idea to get her some practice. That weekend, they went to a mall together. Martha had wanted to talk to Lana about the problem all through the week. She’d wanted to propose a solution to her. But, she’d never managed to work up the nerve. Martha still just couldn’t understand what the big deal was to Lana; Martha had peed in front of Lana once before— She’d even done it naked!— It had been very, very embarrassing, but Lana hadn’t thought it was a big deal to watch Martha pee, so then why did she think it WOULD be a big deal the other way around? Martha just had to PROVE to Lana that it was no big deal, she thought. And today, she was going to try doing exactly that. In the food court, she challenged Lana to a slushy drinking contest and, laughing, Lana agreed— She even won! Before long though, those slushys were more than ready to come out, and when they walked by a restroom, Lana mumbled that she had to use it. Martha nodded, she needed to go quite a bit as well, all that sugar-water had rushed straight through her. “Okay,” she said. “I gotta go, too.” Martha noticed the slight flinch in Lana’s facial expression, a tiny little tug at the corners of her lips. “O—Okay,” she said, heading to the women’s room door. Martha smiled. This was easy. Now, they’d pee together and Lana would understand that it was okay. Martha took her stall and sat on the toilet, her pee easily bursting forth the instant she was on the seat. “Ahhh…” she sighed, trying to show how relaxed and comfortable she was with everything that was happening. That was sure to put Lana more at ease, right? Not right. Lana’s body was filled with tension as she sat in her own stall. She’d picked the one furthest from Martha’s, but they were the only two people in this restroom so it didn’t really help. When Martha started to let loose a hissing stream, Lana’s bladder had cramped at the noise, wanting nothing more than to join in. But, as more and more pressure built up against her opening, the muscles controlling it only seemed to grow more taut. When Lana heard Martha sigh, she nibbled on her lip and pushed down on her pelvic muscles as hard as she could— Surely Martha was nearly finished if she was making noises like that, right? And there Lana still was, just sitting there doing nothing! As the other toilet flushed and Martha got up and exited her stall, Lana tried not to groan as she felt she’d missed her chance for relief. And, Lana really, REALLY needed some relief right now. Her bladder was achingly full, and the feeling of the toilet beneath her was a horrendous tease on it. Different parts of her mind and body were all engaged in a brutal tug-of-war. Her bladder screamed‘We’re ON the toilet! Let me go pee!’ and rationality agreed ‘Just go, that’s what toilets are for.’ But then, her anxiety responded ‘No way! It’s too embarrassing!’ Her bladder, growing more insistent, shouted ‘But, I can’t hold it!’, and her tense sphincters yelled back ‘Yes you can!’ The conflicting feelings in her brain and the stinging warzone in her abdomen combined together to make Lana feel almost dizzy. Martha was washing her hands at the sink. She hadn’t heard Lana pee while she’d been going, and Lana was still in the stall so she figured she hadn’t gone yet… That was okay, though. Martha would wait for her however long she needed it. THAT was probably the whole reason why she was nervous! She thought Martha would get impatient and annoyed with her! Martha had to say something, she called back over her shoulder “Don’t worry Lana, take as much time as you have to! I’ll wait here.” Instead of those words being reassuring and comforting as Martha had intended, Lana only grew more distressed. She’d been hoping Martha would leave the room after she’d washed her hands, and then Lana could spray out her bladder’s contents as quickly and powerfully as she could manage. But, no. Martha was going to stay. “Th—That’s okay!” Lana called back. “You can wait outside and look at some stores! I’ll be done in a minute!” “I really don’t mind,” Martha repeated. Poor Lana sure was nervous about this. But, Martha didn’t CARE if she lost a little window-shopping time waiting on her. It was fine. Lana frowned. She considered just getting up, pretending she’d finished and trying again later. But, Martha would know she hadn’t gone, because she hadn’t heard any trickling. And the pressure inside Lana’s body was already driving her nuts. To her utmost dismay, Lana looked down and noticed both of her knees were rapidly bouncing up and down, occasionally stopping so that she could wind her ankles around each other. She was doing the very same seated pee-dance that she sometimes did on the subway when she’d forgotten to go before leaving school and was straining to hold it. Except this time she was doing it while on the toilet. This time she was doing it when she had literally no reason to still be holding it. Frustrated, her hands began to twine through her hair, and she tugged on a few of her curls. She did her best to make her legs go still— How was she ever going to make herself pee if she was twisting around like she really wanted it to stay in?! Outside the stall, Martha waited and waited, growing more perplexed. She’d reassured Lana enough, hadn’t she? She’d told her she didn’t mind waiting, shouldn’t that have helped her relax? Did she need more? “Lana, it’s really okay for you to pee, you know that right?” Lana’s pulse started to race, throbbing in time with her aching bladder. Martha must have thought she was so weird! What kind of person had this much trouble using the toilet? Especially when they were bursting at the seams to go! “I… I… Could you please go wait outside?” she asked finally. “I can’t—“ “I know, you’re embarrassed and stuff,” Martha said. “But, you shouldn’t be. Everyone pees. So, you don’t need to feel so nervous.” After laying it all out so simply like that, Martha expected Lana’s flow to burst forth immediately. But it didn’t. Martha tried again. “I mean it,” she said. “Just relax, it’s no big deal.” “…Please just wait outside,” Lana repeated. “I can’t do it around you. I just can’t. That’s all there is to it.” And that clawing, aching pit in Martha’s stomach was opening itself wide once more. They could never work as a couple if Lana was this scared of doing perfectly normal, natural things around her. They’d never live together. They’d drift apart. Martha would have no one and nobody… “You can,” she said simply. “You can do it, you just have to try.” Lana’s racing pulse pitched up a few octaves as suddenly her frustration became the only thing she could feel. “Just have to try?!” she repeated sharply. How could Martha believe THAT?! “Martha, I have to pee SO bad! I need it so bad that it hurts, and all I want to do is GO, how am I NOT trying?!” Martha stumbled back at the obvious anger in Lana’s voice. She… Really hadn’t meant to upset her. She’d been trying to help! Trying to make her understand that she was being ridiculous, and… Lana had said she needed to pee so badly that it was hurting her. If it was causing pain, that meant Lana really couldn't control this as easily as Martha thought, could she? “I’m sorry…” Martha’s voice was quiet and tiny in the large, echoey restroom. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help, but I don’t think I’m understanding this whole thing right. You really CAN’T control it, can you?” “I can’t…” Lana agreed, her annoyance dissipating. Martha wasn’t doing any of this to be malicious, wasn’t TRYING to torment her and make her feel bad. “I don’t— I don’t know why this—“ “I read online, it’s called Paruresis,” Martha said. “Means you can’t… Can’t go around other people. Or, at least, not around me…” Lana’s knees had started bouncing again, her urethral opening stung and burned as she continued trying with all her might to release the gushing spray of urine imprisoned inside her. “Does that…” she winced as a sharp, fiery spasm ripped through her bladder. “Does that bother you? That I can’t…” “It… Does,” Martha admitted. “I know it’s stupid, but like… I want us to live together someday, and if you can’t… ‘Go’ around me, then we won’t ever be able to…” Lana suddenly realized there were tears in her eyes, and she wasn’t sure when that had started. Was her body just trying to find any way to shove out its excess liquid, or were Martha’s words doing it? “You… Want us to live together?” “Y—Yeah,” Martha said. “Someday… But, you know, you’ll have to be able to pee around me for that to work.” Lana’s pulse started to slow, and the coldness of her frustration and agony gave way to the warmth of her love for Martha. “I would really like to live together…” she said. But, Martha was right. She couldn’t share a home with someone that she couldn’t handle peeing close to. She pushed once more on her muscles, so hard that she was grunting, but still not peeing… She just… Couldn’t stand the thought of Martha hearing— Lana reached for her purse on the floor, she retrieved her phone and the earbuds attached to it before sliding it under the stall door. “L—Listen to music, Martha, please? You can stay, but listen to music,” she pleaded. Martha picked up the phone and put in the earbuds. She tapped the screen a few times and a song began to play loudly in her ears. “Okay,” she said, a little louder than she’d intended. “You have music on!?” Lana asked, already feeling some of the tension down below ceding. “Yeah!” “Ohhh, thank you!” Lana cried out, her bladder bursting wide open at that last bit of reassurance. Pee gushed and hissed into the bowl below her, and immediately she felt the glorious sensation of something inside her core slowly shrinking down, down, down… Her liquids hissed, splattered and splashed, but she didn’t mind because Martha was listening to something else, covering up all her noises. When her geyser finally finished erupting and she’d left her stall feeling SO much better, Lana nodded to Martha. “O—Okay, I did it…” Martha took out the earbuds. Truthfully, she had been able to hear some of Lana’s relief, even with the music overtop of it, it would have been impossible not to. She wondered if she should tell Lana that, say she’d heard her peeing and it had been no big deal at all, but she decided against it. A solution had been found for the time being, and Martha didn’t want to risk it not working a second time. “Okay now?” “Yeah,” Lana said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m like this with you.” Martha drew her in for a hug, “Hey, it’s alright. I’ll try to understand it better, and we can work through this together.” Lana squeezed her back. Melificentfan, zethy, Manticore and 4 others 4 3 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted November 14, 2023 Author Popular Post Share Posted November 14, 2023 (edited) Written for the Omovember prompt "Show". *** Martha was trying her best not to squirm around. Her body was begging her to do so, pleading very loudly, and insisting that simply standing still like this was entirely unacceptable. Her bladder was pumped full of so much liquid that she could barely breathe, which was a serious problem since she knew she was going to have to speak soon. If she could just be allowed to move her body and give in to the dance her overly full bladder was demanding, she thought there’d be at least some CHANCE that she’d make it to a toilet in time. But, she couldn’t dance. She wasn’t supposed to dance for a bit longer. Martha had landed the lead role in the latest school play, which wasn’t much of a shock. Her ability to slip into another person’s skin to perform was unmatched, so any role she auditioned for in drama club was almost guaranteed to be hers. She hoped that streak would continue after she graduated and could begin auditioning for roles in real, SERIOUS productions. It was easy for her to cry if a script demanded it, even if she felt happy to be on stage. It was easy for her to laugh and behave like she was over the moon, even if off-stage she was dealing with something which made her miserable. It was easy for her to appear terrified when she knew everything around her was fake, and so there was no real threat to be frightened of. All of that came naturally to her. The trick was actually to NOT pretend. To instead draw from times where she really HAD been sad, or joyous, or scared, and to let that feeling reawaken inside of her. Even if she wasn’t actually depressed in the moment, her mind and body both still knew what it felt like to BE depressed. It helped if she could connect to the character in some way. And, right now, she was playing Melody, a woman whom was heart-broken after a break-up. She could relate to that very much, all she had to do was think of Lydia. She and Lydia had never been romantically involved, as much as Martha had once hoped for that, but losing her as a friend still hurt as badly. In all of the rehearsals for this play, Martha had let out all of the emotions that she still had tied to Lydia, allowing herself to feel as if she really was in the shoes of her character, experiencing the heart-ache on her own. She was able to go through all the stages of grief again through the eyes of Melody including the moment where the fictional woman was finally able to move on and start a new relationship with someone else. The rehearsals had all gone great. Martha could nail every line, every dance-step, she was sure she’d be able to perform this play in her sleep if she had to, she knew it so well now. So, now that the actual show was on, she should have been breezing through it. But, she wasn’t. This was far from the first play Martha had been in, of course. She knew what to expect before and during a performance, she knew how often she could anticipate bathroom breaks— Not until the show was over. She knew it was essential that her bladder be empty before she take to the stage. But, she’d completely failed to manage that this time. Make-up had taken much too long, and there hadn’t been any time for Martha to pee. She hadn’t even bothered asking if she could, already aware of what the answer would be. So, now she just had to try to get through this show without wetting herself, or allowing her body’s needs to destroy her ability to perform. At no point in the script was Melody ever desperate to use the bathroom, and Martha’s usual technique of letting her character’s feelings just kind of enter into her wasn’t working. She really, really had to pee. And while her mind and body COULD recall what it felt like NOT to be bursting, she couldn’t trick herself into feeling that way for real. Right now, ‘Melody’ was supposed to be standing beside her best friend and angrily lambasting her ex-boyfriend. In all of the rehearsals, her voice had been strong, firm and furious. Unwavering in its certainty as she ranted about every inconsiderate thing the man had ever done. But, Martha’s bladder was aching so much that it hurt to speak above a whisper. She FORCED herself to project her voice like she was supposed to, making her burning muscles quiver more. The liquid in her bladder was shaken up painfully with every word, and her tone shook along with it, making her sound more nervous than angry. The girl playing her friend didn’t react to her poor delivery. That was another thing about performing, when someone else made a mistake, everyone else had to treat it like it was intentional. If someone were to say the wrong line, the other person in the scene would have to improvise and come up with something that made sense. So, the other girl thought fast and, when she handed Martha a pillow rather than telling her to punch it as if it were her ex, she said “It sounds like you’re gonna start crying, just let it out here.” It wasn’t what was SUPPOSED to happen. Not yet, anyway. Martha was only supposed to break down into sobs AFTER she’d finished ranting, but she went along with it anyway. She buried her face in the pillow and cried loudly, the force of her voice once more acting like a rope around her brimming bladder. Her legs inched closer and closer together, feet lightly stepping in place as much as they could without attracting attention. The scene continued on as normal, since Martha had no trouble making herself sound like she was upset and on the verge of tears. Her bladder was hurting so badly that she felt like crying anyway. Copious amounts of liquid were now pulsating inside of her, and she had no idea if she’d be able to manage with just these ‘subtle’ movements for much longer. There were a lot of people in the audience, and becoming blatantly desperate in front of them all would be humiliating. That was another issue; Ordinarily, Martha could lose herself in the role and mostly just forget that there WAS an audience at all. Thinking about how many eyes were on her was just distracting, so she’d always been grateful for her ability to block it out. But, since she COULDN’T turn herself into Melody with the same ease she’d managed during rehearsal, she was completely aware of how many people were staring as she was forced to fight such a private battle. She sort of NEEDED to remember there was an audience, though. They were the reason she had to endure all of this discomfort. It wouldn’t be fair to give a terrible performance just because all she could think about was the mind-blowing relief she would be allowed to experience just as soon as this was all over. The girl playing her friend now directed her to sit on the couch and continue crying as she rubbed her back. Martha was supposed to double forwards, hugging the pillow to herself. She buried her face in it first so that no one would see the grimace on her face, then forced her body to fold up on itself. Immediately, her bladder was squashed and started to sear more insistently than ever. The button on her pants dug painfully into the firm skin of her abdomen, pinching the heavy ball of liquid restrained there. Her legs crossed without her permission, rubbing fervently at the ankles. The pressure pushing against her sphincter was so intense that it was a struggle to even breathe, much less carry on sobbing into the pillow. She inhaled as slowly as she could manage, choppy, careful little puffs. If she breathed too fast or too deep, another weight was lain down atop her bladder. The overfull organ was shrieking at her, begging her to forget all about where she was and just GO. Martha’s bladder didn’t care if she ruined the couch she was sitting on— It was old and worn out anyway, it had been used for school plays back when her parents had still been attending here. It didn’t care if she had to do the rest of the play with an obvious dark spot on the back of her pants. It didn’t care if she got teased or bullied for letting it flow in the middle of a performance. It didn’t care that the seat she was wriggling her butt against wasn’t made of porcelain and had nowhere for her urine to fall. All it cared about was breaking free from the torment and suffering, draining itself dry of every last painful drop. One such drop seeped into her panties. Then another. And another. She bounced a few times, certain that it was noticeable, but she couldn’t help it. Soaking her pants would be even more obvious! “You know what, Melody?” The other girl asked. Martha had to pull herself upright again, and for some reason that hurt even more than bending forwards had. Taut skin stretched agonizingly over a hard swell, and for a second she thought her bladder might actually tear. Her legs remained crossed, thighs straining against one another. Her hips were starting to fidget as she attempted to push herself against the couch in a bid to create a dam against her tidal wave. The other girl was just staring at h— Right, her lines! The lines she’d MEMORIZED and could recite forwards and backwards when she didn’t have to pee so bad. “Wh—What?” She asked. “My cousin Lane’s gonna come to the city next week. You and him have a lot in common, I think you’d get along.” Martha shrugged her shoulders, trying to ignore how badly they shook. She couldn’t move correctly, there were so many tremors buzzing through her. “I’m done with dating,” she said. “Men are jerks.” “I didn’t say you have to date him,” the other girl told her. “But, it would be good for you to get out, instead of moping around your apartment forever. There is life outside, you know?” Martha went through the remainder of the scene, during which Melody argued back and forth with her friend for a while about whether or not all relationships were ultimately doomed to end with broken hearts. This one wasn’t SO bad, her shaking voice and jittering actually seemed to HELP make her seem more anxious and hurt. “There’s lots of good guys out there,” Melody’s friend said. “Lane is one of them.” “They’re all horrible,” Martha recited Melody’s response. “They don’t care about your feelings, they never listen when you talk about your day, and they always leave the toilet seat up.” She fought not to wince on that last line— The only reference to urination in the entire script, and still too much for her aching bladder to handle. She felt a hard rush of urine soak its way into her already slightly clammy panties, prompting more anxious bouncing. “Really?” The other girl said. “You’re gonna swear off dating over a toilet seat?” “No,” Martha fought to infuse a bit of defiance into her voice. “I’m just explaining why all men are jerks.” The scene concluded after a few more lines, during which Melody was finally convinced to give Lane a chance. The other girl hurried off the stage, her role done with until the final scene of the play— Lucky her, she had plenty of time to pee before her next lines… Martha forced herself onto her feet as carefully as she could, maintaining her fraying control over the sloshing cup balanced precariously inside of her. She took tiny, careful steps to her next place, where she was supposed to meet ‘Lane’. That scene was a long one, and Martha had to remain standing up the whole time. She discovered that it was far easier to secretly pee dance while sitting down than standing up. No more bouncing against a cushion, and it was way harder to make leg-crossing look casual with nothing to lean against. It was a strain to speak to ‘Lane’. She was supposed to sound amazed and star-struck, because she was discovering that Lane was a famous painter, but gasping in surprise made her lower stomach loosen up a little too much, and she felt the inner walls of her bladder starting to crumble again. “I’ve s—seen your work!” She said. “I love it!” ‘Dammit, stop stuttering,’ she thought. ‘Melody doesn’t HAVE a stutter…’ “Ah, really?” ‘Lane’ asked. “I’m glad to hear that. Always fun to meet a fan.” They kept talking, and talking, and while Martha knew exactly what to say, enunciating each word with the proper tone and inflection was so challenging. She flubbed a few lines, and hoped no talent scouts were in the audience watching. What if someone had wanted to cast her in a SERIOUS production, but now that her voice sounded so weird, they were going to decide against it?! What if her bladder managed to cost her her big chance? On top of that, she was DYING to grab herself. The thin, small ring of muscle trying to wall off her bladder from the rest of the world was so exhausted, it needed something physical and solid helping it hold together. Her hands were twitching, uselessly patting against her hips every so often. She hoped the audience thought it looked natural— ‘Melody’ was nervous because she was attracted to ‘Lane’ after all. After that scene, there was one of her first date with ‘Lane’. She was allowed to sit on the prop couch again, giving her another opportunity to cross her legs and squeeze her thighs together. That was at least a LITTLE bit better, but she could feel the damp spot in her underwear more clearly now. It had cooled off and now felt sticky and irritating against her skin, one more discomfort to try to ignore. Martha somehow managed to make it through the next several scenes, and reach the climax of the play where ‘Lane’ declared that he was going to stay in town for good so he could be with ‘Melody’. She stood on one end of the stage with her thighs squeezed together, trying to wait patiently while ‘Lane’ gave his speech. She was fighting to react to it like she was supposed to, touching a hand to her heart, smiling broadly, blinking back happy tears. Her hand shook and her other continually attempted to creep between her legs— She was amazed that she hadn’t started cupping herself yet, the sodden feeling from all her leaks was a testament to the fact she’d managed to keep her hands where they belonged. Finally, ‘Lane’ finished speaking and pulled Martha close for a hug— A very TIGHT hug that made it feel as though an anvil had collided with her bladder. A heavy slosh of liquid splashed into her panties and she felt little streams rolling down her legs. She knew her spills were probably starting to leave marks and, under the bright lights of the stage, they were likely noticeable to at least a few members of the audience. Then, the music began. The music… Martha was finally free to dance around, but she was going to have to do it in a very SPECIFIC way— One that probably wouldn’t help her hold it in all that much. Despite feeling like she was going to explode from all of the water trapped within her, Martha leaned into ‘Lane's’ arms and started to sway with him. The knots of tension flaring in her midsection rocked with her, fluid moving back and forth in a way that was almost nauseating. She had to focus on the slow-dance she was supposed to perform with ‘Lane’. At least, she could hide her face in his shoulder so no one would notice how intensely she was biting her lip or how wide and panicked her eyes had gotten. She let ‘Lane’ lead, which meant that their dance actually went BETTER than it had during the rehearsals when she’d always tried to lead. This time, she just allowed herself to be moved the way he directed, because all she could focus on anymore was not pissing herself in front of a massive crowd of people. The dance was NOT helping her prevent that. Every step she made would shake her bladder and she could feel the liquid swishing around within her. She started to bend at the knees a little, and she wondered how many members of the audience had picked up on her problem by now. As soon as the music ceased and the show was over, Martha had tears stinging in the corners of her eyes and her bladder was literally shuddering inside of her. She was prepared to make a mad dash to the nearest women’s room. As she turned to sprint off stage, she felt ‘Lane’s’ hand close around her arm and hold her in place. “Wha—“ Martha desperately tried to squirm herself out of his hold, but this guy was stronger than he looked and Martha was already using just about every bit of her strength to hold in her bladder. “Gotta do the bow, remember?” He said, as if he WASN’T keeping Martha from urgently needed relief. True, he likely didn’t REALIZE he was doing that, but still! ‘Melody’ had been right, all guys really WERE jerks! She and the other performers all took a bow, Martha doing her best not to jostle her bladder too much in the process. Finally, she was able to move backstage. Where she discovered that Lana had somehow already made it, even though she’d surely just been out watching in the audience. “That was great!” Lana praised. She lowered her voice, “Especially all the hip swaying during your dance at the end…” Martha blushed fiercely as she felt another squirt warm her panties. Now that she didn’t have tons of eyes upon her, she gave in and thrust both her hands between her legs for a long, hard squeeze. The reinforcement to her holding muscles felt to good that she let out a sigh, eyes shutting for a second. “Um…” Lana said. “Are you okay?” Starting to jog in place, hands still wedged between her dampened thighs, Martha said “I’m not.” Face turning more red, she quickly glanced behind herself. “I need to— I’ll be right back!” She immediately rushed off. Lana watched Martha sprint away, noticing a few darkened patches on the back of her pants. ‘… Did she have to hold it through the whole show?!’ Poor girl! That had been a long performance, Lana was surprised SHE didn’t need to go after sitting through the whole thing. And, since she hadn’t noticed many people getting up DURING it… *** Martha reached the hallway containing the restrooms, the pressure mounting against her sphincter even more as something forced her to stop dead in her tracks. “Oh no,” she moaned weakly. “No, no, no, no, no….” By the time Martha finally GOT to the spot she’d been fantasizing about for what felt like a lifetime, the line was out the door and stretching FAR down the hallway. She forced herself to take her spot at the very end, gazing out at what must have been DOZENS of other girls. There were several stalls, but that wouldn’t cut down on the time too much. And once Martha got close enough, she’d have to hear the streams pouring out, colliding so loudly with the toilet water, creating that unmistakable hiss that only happened when someone was enjoying a VERY needed pee… Some of them would probably moan or sigh, adding to the auditory torment… A soft, horrified moan of despair burst out of her mouth when she leaked once more. She bounced frantically where she stood, tears forming in her eyes. She squeezed both her hands against herself as hard as she could, fighting to fix the hole in her dam and put an end to the leakage. She managed to cut off the stream, but the remainder of her lake still had to come out so, SO badly. Waves roared and lapped at her overworked sphincter, which quivered against the mighty weight. This happened again and again. She would start to pee— She would start to really, really PEE— so she’d cup herself as tight as possible and tense up every muscle she had. She’d regain control over the flood for a few more measly seconds, and then another jet would glide into her clothes, starting the process over again. When a few girls emerged, pink faced and maddeningly calm, from the restroom, Martha squeezed her eyes tightly closed and told herself that she actually COULD hold it. ‘Look, three of them are already finished. Just wait and it will be your turn soon. Just hold it. Hold it, hold it, hold it…’ It felt like her bladder was held together with bits of chewing gum and duct tape, it felt like the tape was starting to peel, everything coming apart. ‘Hold it, hold it, please just hold it…You don’t have to go that bad. You can wait. Just hold it.’ As she performed her familiar pee dance, it struck her just how poorly it worked All the clenching and contorting in the world wasn’t enough to make her bladder a few liters larger. Droplets continually broke free, warming and re-warming her underwear as her fingers worked as hard as they could to form the cork she needed. Cold panic flooded into her veins, she didn’t think she could make it. She buried her hands against herself and doubled forwards. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as her hands grew slick with warm wetness, her bladder continuing to push and push and push, its walls squeezing with so much strength that she felt powerless. “Not gonna make it…” she mumbled, not even noticing that her lips were moving. “Not gonna make it, can’t hold it…” “You will…” a voice said from behind her. “You’ve made it this far, don’t give up now.” Martha somehow managed to turn around a little, even that small motion prompting another spurt. She saw Lana standing behind her. “You can do it,” Lana encouraged. “Not much longer now.” Martha tried to smile as though she really HAD been reassured, but the line was still such a massive barrier between herself and relief, and it was just inching along! She felt yet another leak spurt forth. She needed something more between her legs, it was a shame she hadn’t been born with four hands. FOUR hands would be enough to plug her closed, surely. Every drop felt like it was trying to come out now, a non-stop pulsating in her most sensitive area that was driving her crazy At last, the line had budged forwards enough time that Martha was able to actually set one foot inside the restroom. She had been anticipating this moment with equal parts excitement and dread; Excitement that she would finally be in the home-stretch, so close to using the toilet. Dread, because she was now subjected to the sound of each girl ahead of her letting loose their gushing streams. This was the worst thing about waiting in line like this, having to listen to other people do the thing she needed so, so very badly. Her fingers kept pinching into her opening, her urethra stinging and screaming for the pressure to evaporate. Rather than evaporating, it just got worse and worse and worse. The crotch of her pants felt utterly soaked beneath her palms, like a rag left at the bottom of a bathtub for hours. Finally, a toilet flushed and a door popped open. A girl exited and headed for the sinks, and Martha rushed for the now vacant toilet. She leaked profusely every step of the way there and barely even remembered to shut the door and lock it before sliding her sodden pants slickly down her legs and taking the seat she’d been dreaming about for ages. The instant she felt the porcelain beneath her, her holding muscles forgot their purpose entirely, a waterfall erupted from between her legs and fell with an echoing hiss into the bowl. Finally, she was peeing like she’d been dying to for so long. She couldn’t resist a moan as hours as hours of suffering and torment came at last to such a blissful end. For over a minute, Martha sat there, continuing to pee as if her life depended on it. Then, it took a few seconds for her to remember how to stand up and actually leave the stall. She washed her hands at the sinks and then went back out into the hall where Lana was waiting. Self-consciously Martha stared down at herself, her pant-legs were streaked with liquid, and she could feel how wet her backside was. Even if she’d gotten to a toilet in the end and released most of her pee where it belonged, she looked as though she’d had an accident. She stared down at the damage in horror. Lana glanced down as well. “Hey, it’s alright,” she said. “Just go backstage again and find something in the costume closet to change into.” Edited November 14, 2023 by secretomoact (see edit history) david_578, mourn365, LifeIsStrange and 4 others 6 1 Quote Link to comment
secretomoact 2,353 Posted November 25, 2023 Author Share Posted November 25, 2023 (edited) Written for the Omovember prompt "Trying To Get Out Of A Complicated Outfit". *** Lana had really believed that she’d picked the perfect outfit for her very first art show. She wasn’t the only artist on display, as several of her classmates had contributed as well, so Lana wanted to make sure she stood out. She spent ages deciding what to wear, until she was certain she’d found the best ensemble possible. It seemed that way at first, she was getting tons of compliments on it, and Martha loved it. The colorful palm-leaf pattern on her jumpsuit matched the beach-themed paintings on display almost perfectly, tying the theme together. The light grey belt tied around her waist kept the outfit from being too overly bright. And, the long sleeves prevented her from getting too cold in the well air conditioned museum. She went around speaking to people for a while, having an easier time talking to strangers than she usually would. Lana was proud to say which of the paintings were hers. Since her outfit matched her paintings, it was pretty easy for folks to guess which she’d made, though. She answered questions, explaining different methods used to achieve the lighting effects in each of the images, and how she was able to subtly differentiate the sky from the ocean water with very slight strokes. It wasn’t until a couple hours had passed that Lana realized her choice of outfit might not have been that great after all. Speaking to people had dried out her throat, and looking at the bodies of water she’d painted had only made her thirstier, so she’d had to make several trips to the water fountain, drinking away until the scratchiness in her esophagus had abated. Eventually, all that water started asking to come back out. And, while Lana tried to ignore its request for as long as possible, it only took a few more conversations for her bladder to begin making its demand in a far less polite manner. The nudging tingles around her waistline turned into more insistent jabs at her opening. She really needed to make an excuse to go ‘freshen up.’ Of course, her bladder didn’t decide to start REALLY throbbing until she was with Martha, though. Lana had really been trying to get herself more comfortable with discussing this topic with her girlfriend. But, it wasn’t getting any easier. Even after that day in the mall restroom, when she’d finally been able to empty out while Martha listened to music to cover up the noise, Lana still felt too awkward. Honestly, the fact that Martha now knew that she was so embarrassed about this seemed to make it even harder. Lana could just imagine her thinking ‘Well, if Lana’s actually worked up the nerve to TELL me, she must REALLY need to go!’ and her face heated. That day at the mall had been the last time Lana had successfully peed around Martha. It wasn’t even for lack of trying, either. Whenever they were out and Martha went to pee, Lana would tag along, assuming it would be easier since SHE hadn’t been the one to bring it up. But, then once she got into a stall and sat down, nothing would happen— Even if her bladder had been aching! She’d just be sitting there, listening to Martha pee so easily in the other stall, while her own stream failed to materialize. Then, Martha would finish, tell Lana she’d wait for her outside, and once the door was closed behind her, Lana would unclench and let go. The most troubling thing about that was how it didn’t matter if there were OTHER women in the room with her at that point. Even if she could hear a girl talking on her phone, or a couple of them chatting at the mirror, Lana would be able to pee so long as Martha, specifically, was not in the room with her. Lana knew how sensitive Martha was to rejection— Perceived or genuine— and that this likely bothered her— She KNEW that it bothered her. Martha wanted to be able to live together someday, how could Lana share an apartment with someone if she couldn’t pee around them? Lana was picturing herself having to hold it in every single day until Martha went to sleep if she never managed to get over this. And that wouldn’t even be physically possible. She couldn’t even tell Martha when she had to go without getting flustered and embarrassed, the idea of someday being capable of just letting it flow with her right there seemed like a pipe dream. For a while, Lana tried to just hold it until the end of the show, wandering the area with Martha, talking to anyone who approached her, and pretending like nothing was bothering her. She tried to fantasize about being a world-famous artist someday, and her paintings being sold for thousands upon thousands of dollars, rather than just a hundred a piece like they were going for tonight. When her daydreams about fame and fortune started being replaced by ones about twisting the lock to a bathroom stall and feeling cool porcelain beneath her, Lana accepted that holding it until the end of the show was going to be a lot harder than she’d hoped. When she and Martha walked by a water fountain, and Lana’s knees almost buckled at the sound of someone drinking from it, she realized she was running out of time. This was going to become an emergency if she didn’t handle it. “Ummm…” Lana bit her lip as she turned to her girlfriend. The person at the water fountain was still slurping away, the rush of liquid coiling around her bladder like a snake, squeezing it sharply. She tensed her thighs. “Yeah?” Martha asked. “Are you getting kinda tired of talking to people?” Lana struggled to form words for a second, then just told Martha that she had to check on something for a minute. She hoped that was an alright excuse. Martha probably expected her to be busy tonight, after all— Though, apart from chatting with people, there hadn’t actually been THAT many things Lana needed to do. There was really only ONE thing she had to do now, and she had to do it VERY soon. Once she’d broken away from Martha and entered the main hallway of the museum, she eagerly scanned it for a sign that could direct her to the nearest women’s room. Her thighs strained a bit more roughly now. Out of Martha’s sight, Lana felt more free to squirm and wriggle. Her knees crossed over each other, her feet bounced. When she started walking again, she felt hot stabs jabbing against her opening with each step. How much water had she had to drink tonight, anyway? It felt like she had gallons stuck inside her tank. At last, she saw the door she needed and pushed her way inside. The muscles clamping her urethra closed started to loosen at the sight of the long row of stalls. She had to squeeze her legs together one more time before she was able to walk into one. She released a thankful sigh as she locked the door and turned around to face the toilet. She reached up to pull down her— Oh… Right… She had on a jumpsuit. She groaned, bladder heavy with the knowledge that it’s relief was going to be delayed an extra few minutes. This wasn’t as simple as pulling down her pants and taking a much-needed seat. She had to take off the belt, then undo all the buttons that were running up her back. Only THEN would she be free to relieve herself. She cringed, shifting between her feet as she untied the belt. She should have THOUGHT of this before choosing her outfit— She DEFINITELY should have thought of this before deciding to wait so long to pee. If she only needed the toilet a little bit, then this wouldn’t be such a problem. Her palms wouldn’t be sweating, her fingers wouldn’t be trembling, and she WOULDN’T be having such a hard time untying the knot on her belt. But, she needed the toilet BAD, and being in a bathroom stall was making it worse. The toilet was right there, right behind her. The seat looked so comfortable, too! Her sphincters were trembling, feet dancing against the floor and knees pinching closer together. She felt like another gallon of liquid had been deposited into her bladder since she’d first set foot in this room, furiously thrashing around and begging for release. At last, the belt came apart and she unwrapped it from her waist. Lana breathed a satisfied sigh. Some of the pressure was dissipating, her bladder felt less restrained, less confined. She hadn’t realized how much the belt had been compressing it until she’d gotten rid of it. She tucked it into her pocket and moved her hands up behind her neck, feeling for the first button. It took her a second to grab onto it correctly, and she struggled even more to actually get it apart. She tried to remember how many buttons there were, how many she’d have to open before she’d be capable of peeing. She couldn’t recall. Martha had helped her put this thing on earlier, and Lana hadn’t paid enough attention to the number of buttons. She was regretting that now. She was regretting a lot of things now. She may have managed the first button, but her arms refused to bend in any direction that let her work the next one. She kept trying, and her shoulders started to burn and cramp almost as much as her bladder was. Ohhh, she’d been such an idiot! If she needed help getting this outfit ON, then OF COURSE she should have realized that she’d need help taking it OFF, too! She just hadn’t been THINKING about taking it off! She hadn’t considered that she might desperately need to remove it before the show was over! She must have left her brain at home or something. First, she stupidly decided to wear something that buttoned up the back. THEN she’d drank water all evening without ONCE considering where it would all go. And, THEN, when she started needing to pee, she chose to IGNORE that until it started getting urgent. All those awful decisions had piled up, and now here Lana was, her bladder full enough that she couldn’t help but jiggle up and down, a toilet right there in front of her, and no way to pull her clothes down enough to actually USE it. The sight of it was too much right now, and she spun to face the door instead. What was she supposed to do now? As she continued trying to grasp hold of the next button, her body kept acting on instinct. Her knees kept bending, trying to lower her onto the seat of the toilet. She had to keep forcing herself to stand up straight, certain that if she sat down, she’d pee through her clothes. She wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening. Before long, she was alternating between fighting with the buttons, and pushing her hands up against herself. There was a slight clammy feeling between her thighs. She couldn’t tell if it was sweat, but she hoped it was. Her bladder was burning like crazy, her opening scorching hot against the pressure, but she didn’t think she’d felt anything slip out yet. Lana kept it up for a few more minutes, not wanting to accept that she was stuck. She had to use the toilet so much! She didn’t want to walk away from this one without emptying her bladder first! But, it was becoming increasingly clear that she wouldn’t be able to pee any time soon. She’d been in here long enough, Martha was probably wondering where she’d gone. Martha… Oh no, she was gonna have to go back to her like this! She was gonna have to return to her girlfriend, and pretend that her bladder wasn’t so full that she could feel its seams coming undone! How was she supposed to do that?! Lana took a moment to try and compose herself. She thought about re-doing the one button she’d managed to take apart, but decided against it. No one would notice. She didn’t even CONSIDER putting the belt back on, she didn’t need anything strangling her bladder. She cupped both of her hands against herself and dug them in tightly, savoring the small bit of relief this granted to her. She crossed her legs as well for good measure, not daring to turn back around to look at the toilet. Waves were colliding inside her bladder, and she was all too aware of how ridiculous this situation was. She was doing a full-blown pee dance right beside a toilet, squirming and bouncing for all she was worth while locked inside a restroom stall. If she just hadn’t been such a moron, if she’d picked ANY other outfit to wear, she would have unleashed a satisfying spray ages ago. She knew that being here, in this room, was making her desperation worse. She knew that the sights of the restroom, the locked door in front of her, the toilet paper dispenser beside her, the pale tiled floor, were all compounding her emergency. She knew it would be easier to hold it if she was somewhere else, but she was reluctant to give up the privacy offered to her by the stall. The way it allowed her to writhe and clutch at herself was much appreciated. She’d been pinning her fingers against her opening as tight as they’d go for a while now, and the thought of releasing the hold was terrifying. She imagined her pee gushing down her legs the instant she stopped holding her crotch. Lana REALLY didn’t want to go back to Martha this way. How long would she be able to refrain from dancing around? It would be obvious that she was bursting, and Martha would see… Lana whimpered softly to herself, then squeaked and went silent when she heard the main door to the room opening, followed by some voices. “Finally,” one of them said. “You’d think they’d have more signs telling you where the bathroom is…” “I know,” another said. “Guess they think the signs would distract from the paintings…” “Thank God there are enough stalls,” a final voice said. Lana listened as three stall doors were shut. One of the girls seemed to be in a serious rush, because not even a full second later, Lana heard her begin to pee. She must have been very desperate indeed, because her release came out strong and fast, punctuated by a breathless moan. Lana cringed and folded over on herself, hands wedging even more firmly. She felt more dampness between her legs, and this time she KNEW it was from a leak. When the other two girls began peeing a second later, Lana couldn’t take it anymore. It was one thing to have to just stand there and LOOK at a toilet while bursting to go, it was quite another to be subjected to the sound of three people relieving their full bladders when she had no choice but to keep waiting. She burst out of the stall and hobbled out of the room as quickly as she could. To her dismay, she couldn’t do it that fast, and her ears continued to be assaulted by the hissing gushes. Another bit of liquid trickled warmly into her panties as one of the girls sighed “I feel so much better…” Lana shoved open the door and returned to the hallway. Her eyes darted around it, even though she had NO idea what she was looking for. This hall held nothing but old sculptures. Perhaps she could find one with a real sword, which she could use to slice this stupid jumpsuit off? Then, maybe another that was wearing actual clothing that happened to be just her size? Of course, no such sculptures existed, none of them had weapons, and of the ones wearing clothes, their outfits were made out of the same marble as the rest of them. Lana had watched a movie a long time ago about a museum where the sculptures came to life after dark. The movie never addressed what would happen if one of them needed to pee and couldn’t take off the clothes carved into them. Okay, maybe she had to pee so bad that she was starting to go crazy… She just had to find Martha, suffer through the rest of this show, and head home for the night. She’d have to SOMEHOW make it all the way there without having an accident. Then, she and Martha would have to go to her room, Martha would have to unbutton her, and Lana would have to keep a straight face and act like she wasn’t in any hurry for that to happen. Or worse. If Martha didn’t have the time before she needed to get back to her OWN apartment, Lana would have to ask either her Dad or her Grandpa to help her out of the jumpsuit before she made a huge puddle in their hallway. Basically, there was no way for this evening to end WITHOUT Lana being humiliated in some way. And the most likely outcome was that she wet herself before the show even ended! She limped down the hall, her feet dragging since taking ACTUAL steps was now too painful to even contemplate. Before she got back to the correct gallery, she saw Martha. Martha was looking a little worse for wear, eyes wide, brow sweaty, obviously in a hurry. Had she been looking for her all this time? “Martha!” Lana called, as loudly as she could around the boulder of her bladder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, I was—“ Martha rushed over to her, “Lana, PLEASE tell me you know where I can find a bathroom?” She asked. “I’ve never been to this museum! You have though, right?!” Oh… Lana looked more closely at Martha’s outfit now. Of course, she’d checked it out earlier already, but now instead of appreciating the way Martha’s jeans hugged her hips, she tried not to seethe with jealousy over how easily Martha would be able to pull them down. Speaking of Martha’s hips, though, they were wriggling. Now that Martha was standing still in front of her, Lana could see the frantic tremors in her legs, and the way they were pushing together. No sense in BOTH of them being miserable… Lana led Martha back the way she’d come, almost grasping her crotch again when she saw the sign on the bathroom door. Her body didn’t seem to WANT to understand that, even if she was near a toilet, she wouldn’t be able to use one for several more hours. “Thank you,” Martha said. “Wait right here, okay?” She rushed inside. Lana stood next to the door and resumed the pee-dance she’d been performing in the stall earlier. She tucked her hands under her armpits to keep them from moving between her legs, but she did everything else just as before. She stomped her feet, she swayed from side to side, she crossed her legs, she doubled over. She did everything to broadcast that she was dying to pee, save for the most obvious action of openly holding herself. A woman stopped beside her, “Are you in line?” She asked, frowning. Lana shook her head miserably. She wished that was the only problem. She WISHED that she was merely stuck in line for a toilet, and THAT was the only reason she was still holding it. The woman stared at her for a moment, but then went through the door. As she entered, Martha stepped out, and Lana didn’t have enough time to react, to straighten herself back out again. “Lana…?” Martha asked. “Are you okay?” Lana shook her head, “I’m— I need to leave early, I think,” she said. “What’s wrong?” Martha asked. “Did you not wanna go because I was in the—“ “No!” Lana cut her off sharply. The last thing she wanted was for Martha to think this was her fault. “It’s nothing to do with you, it’s me— I’m the idiot!” “What?” “I decided to wear this ridiculous jumpsuit, I didn’t even think about how I’d get it back off, and now I’m gonna—“ “You just can’t get your clothes down?” Martha asked. “That’s not so bad.” Not so bad?! Lana was gonna have an accident! Of course it was bad! “Just let me help,” Martha said. “I helped you get it on, right?” “But—“ Lana’s skin felt so warm, but her insides all felt cold. She had definitely fantasized about Martha undressing her, but not with the sole intent of helping her relieve herself! “I’ll just help you with your clothes, once that’s done I’ll leave— This won’t be any worse than when we were costume shopping, right?” “I guess not…” Lana agreed. “But, that time we weren’t IN the bathroom.” “Not much we can do about that, there isn’t anywhere else private,” Martha pointed out. “Come on, it’ll be fine.” Lana nodded and let Martha lead her into the restroom, then to the larger, accessible stall at the end of the row. Lana whimpered involuntarily at the sight of the toilet, and turned away from it. Next thing she knew, she was grabbing herself again. “Mmmmf…” she moaned, miserable with embarrassment. Martha didn’t comment on where Lana’s hands had gone, simply set about undoing the buttons on her outfit. “It’s alright,” she repeated. “I’ll do it fast.” Lana was starting to leak again— She was beginning to have an accident right in front of Martha! This could NOT be happening! Her voice cracked as words flew from her mouth without permission; “Hurry!” Martha did, frantically unfastening each button, once she’d gotten the final one apart, she said, “There! Now, you can go!” Lana’s body acted on instinct again. Her hands flew up to begin pushing the suit down off of herself, and she collapsed onto the toilet behind her, a furious spray striking the bowl instantly. For the first couple seconds, all she could register was the mind-numbing relief, the shock that she’d actually sat down in time to avoid all of this gushing down her legs. But, then the full reality of it hit her— She was peeing out a tsunami in front of Martha! That was almost as bad as having an accident! She covered her face with her hands, shuddering hard. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was from the force of her release— Which she was NOT able to stop, even if her life depended on it— Or from the embarrassment. “I’m sorry!” She cried out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Martha quickly turned to face the other way. She thought about leaving the stall, but opening the door would probably just upset Lana more. “I—It’s alright!” She said once more. “When you gotta go, you gotta go!” And, wow did Lana have to go… Martha was shocked that this was happening, poor girl must have been exploding to just… Give up and do it like this. Especially with that ‘Paruresis’ thing Lana sort of had… If her body was LETTING this happen, she must have been right at the verge of an accident. Or maybe Lana was actually getting more comfortable about this? Either one was possible, but Martha hoped it was the second thing. If this was getting Lana closer to the day where she’d be able to pee around Martha without a second thought, that was a very good thing. Lana was still covering her face as the last of her pee finally trickled out, she shuddered again, and this time she knew it was from embarrassment. It took her several seconds to manage to stand back up again. Not only was she horribly ashamed of herself, she’d been peeing for so long that her legs were now numb. She pulled the jumpsuit back up and stuck her arms through the sleeves— Right, she’d just done that with her top exposed too, hadn’t she? This was so embarrassing… She flushed the toilet and mumbled, “I need help buttoning it up again.” Martha turned back around and did as she was asked, “Feel better now?” Lana didn’t respond. “Come on, you must feel a BIT better, right?” “I’m sorry…” Lana said instead. “I don’t know why I did that— I just… I—“ “You couldn’t hold it anymore,” Martha filled in for her. “And that’s fine. Everyone has emergencies.” “But… In front of you…” “I’ve peed in front of you before,” Martha said. “Remember? And, it’s not like I watched you.” “You didn’t…? Not even a little?” “Okay, maybe for the first couple seconds, since I hadn’t realized you were gonna go like that. But, I turned around right away.” Lana gave an overdue sigh of relief. “You really aren’t disgusted?” “Because you had to pee really bad after drinking tons of water and getting stuck in your jumpsuit…?” Martha asked. “No, that doesn’t make you disgusting, that makes you a human.” Edited November 25, 2023 by secretomoact (see edit history) Melificentfan, Ms. Tito, Babyfxce3 and 2 others 2 3 Quote Link to comment
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