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Your decision has been made: you are going to Betray Siren. Soon, you shall learn the outcome of this decision.

 

You try to calm yourself. Think rationally. You would wet yourself if you didn’t use the toilet after this. That was surely a fact. Any part of your brain that thought otherwise was delusional, it had to be. On the flipside, you had no real reason to believe Siren would definitely wet herself if she had to wait a few more rounds. It was clear she was desperate, sure. But she had still told you to betray her. God, what if she was just sacrificing herself so you could make it? Somehow, you feel like she might do that. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you quickly push “Betray”. Sorry, Siren. No other ch-

You are hit with a pulse of pain, pressure and tension from your bladder. It is fine now; you could focus entirely on holding now that your opportunity to use the toilet had been secured. You unbutton your jeans so you can apply direct pressure. You would probably have to remain in this state of partial undress even after you exit. It might be embarrassing, but you need every-

Another immense pulse. The pressure down near the exit, between your legs, isn’t decreasing at all between waves. Instead, your urge to pee keeps rising above anything you’ve ever felt before. You feel a sensation similar to a pot boiling over as the liquid in your bladder looks for any space to expand, and finding only the outside of your body. Your fingers have found their way into your panties, and are frenetically trying to fill any gap between naked skin and air, physically sealing you up. Hold it, hold it, hold it…! Sh-!

As the pressure rises to unbearable levels, you are hit with a third pulse. This time, it is all pain. You are left gasping for air as you flinch, which hurts too. You can feel the panic welling up inside you. You just needed to hold out until the vote finished. You had to. If you wet yourself, you would be stuck here forever. And your vote against Siren… Focus, focus, breathe, breath-

A hot gush of pee blasts right out of you, physically parting your fingers. Fear and adrenaline is enough to cause you to redouble your efforts, quickly creating a clamping the exit shut. You are afraid to even open your eyes and assess the damage. How much did you just let out? Did you just lose the DP Game? Are leaks even allowed in the first place?

Your bladder doesn’t even relent enough to let you survey any of that, as another full-force pang hits you square in the stomach. This time you resist, barely. The pressure wasn’t rising any longer, but it also wasn’t decreasing. And it was so, so bad. The sheer weight from your bladder directly against your pussy was unlike anything you had ever experienced. In any other situation, you would have gladly wet yourself just to be rid of it.

Again it hits you. You don’t know how much longer you could take this. How much time had passed? You couldn’t tell, and you couldn’t open your eyes. Your fingers felt wet. Did you leak again? No, no you didn’t. Please, no. No more.

And again. The intensity had peaked already. It wasn’t getting worse. But you were getting weaker. Your willpower was rapidly depleting. So was your physical strength. You were going to hit your limit, soon. Way too soon. You were doing everything you could just to stay dry. You-

 

LIMIT CRISIS – CHATTY (Initial: 30% rate of success)
HOLD ON (Each vote adds 5% to the probability of success)
GIVE UP (Each vote removes 5% from the probability of success)

Edited by DerivativeWings (see edit history)
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