Olivera's evening rush

[Flush 251]

Foreword: this piece of fiction is a tribute to the amazing art of Gothes. A recurring theme in Gothes' thread is the "mom omo" art. I wrote this story about this particular picture. This time, I think it's of sufficient quality and length to warrant it's own thread in the Fiction forum. In the middle of the story, you will be presented with one choice; both choices will lead to the situation in the picture, but they will end a bit differently. Have fun and @Gothes; more mom omo please! 😉

 

Olivera's evening rush

 

Olivera hurried through the subway station, her breasts jiggling in her oversized sweatshirt as she made a run for the nearest exit. The 26-year-old dark skinned woman glanced at her phone, swiped past the five missed calls and three unread messages, and hastily sent out a short message:

“B there in 2 mins!”

She hesitated for a moment as she passed the station's public lavatories; Olivera desperately needed to pee. She had left work an hour and a half ago, and her bladder felt quite full at the time. She hadn't thought too much about it at the time, but in the meantime, stuck in a subway carriage that had broken down between two stations, the coffee she'd drunk at work had caught up with her. Now, ninety minutes later, she had an absolute bowling ball of piss inside her. Almost every instinct in her body urged her to use the nearby lavatories - but the strongest, her maternal instinct, denied her bladder the relief it so badly needed.

 

The subway delay meant she was late to pick up her son from the daycare center. Much too late. Olivera's problem was that this wasn't the first time she'd been late, and she'd been verbally reprimanded many times before. Two weeks ago, after being late again, she had received an official letter stating that, according to the rules, they would take action to expel her son if this happened again. She knew that she HAD to pick up her son from daycare as soon as possible, and hoped she could get away with yet another warning. Any additional minute would only add more fuel to the burning fire. 

 

As fast as she could, Olivera paced through the streets, her knees knocking against each other as she kept her thighs pressed together. Her bladder pulsed relentlessly inside her, and she started to regret the decision not to use the lavatories in the station. Slowly, she started to lose confidence in her own abilities; would she be able to make it to a bathroom in time? Realizing that she was closer to the daycare center than to the subway station, she powered through, only stopping to wait for a red light to become green. Standing still was torture for Olivera, and she jammed her hand in between her legs, hungrily grabbing her crotch through her red sweatpants. “Come on… come on…” she prayed silently, “one more street and I’ll be at the daycare center…”

 

The cars in the opposite direction stopped, and even before the walk signal turned green, Olivera passed the buzzing street, nearly colliding with a cyclist who ran the yellow light. The closer she approached the daycare center, the more intense the urgent signals from her bladder became. The anticipation of nearly arriving at a building with functioning bathroom facilities almost became too much for Olivera. Suddenly, it was all she could think about, and while she tried to push away the thought, she couldn’t. The employee restroom, the small kids toilets where the kids potty-trained, heck, even the plastic potties standing on the floor of the playroom; there were so many options to finally free herself of the ocean of urine boiling inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she neared the corner of the daycare center building. Olivera swallowed and raised her chin; she had to compose herself for just a minute. She would first have to excuse herself for being too late again, and then she would have to ask to use the bathroom. “Excuse, bathroom - excuse, bathroom,” she repeated to herself as a mantra, fearing that she would scream out “oh my god, I need to piss!” instead from the moment she would lay eyes on the daycare worker.

 

When Olivera turned the corner, she was surprised to see that her son Eric was already in front of the daycare center, locked and loaded in his stroller. Beside him stood Miss Walker, the daycare principal, with a key ring in her hand, seemingly locking the entrance door. Olivera’s eyes widened, thinking about the extra seconds it would take Miss Walker to unlock the door again and turn off the alarm, before she could rush into the building in search of a bathroom. Her bladder screamed for relief, and Olivera wanted to cry. Excuse, bathroom - excuse bathroom, she reiterated, and she opened her mouth to take care of the former, but Miss Walker was the first to speak up.

 

“Miss Rodrigo!” she shouted out the top of her lungs, audibly upset.

“Miss Rodrigo,” she repeated Olivera’s last name, “we have warned you, over and over again! We have been patient with you, but there’s a line, and you have now crossed it. Fifty minutes! You are over fifty minutes late! This is it! Tomorrow, I will start the expulsion procedure for Eric. You have one week to find a new daycare center for your son, this is his last week here. I’m sorry for him, I like him, he’s a good boy, but this is the limit. Actions have consequences, miss Rodrigo. Consider this as a good lesson. Get your shit together and become a good mother for Eric!”

Olivera felt as if the world was slipping away from under her feet. Not only was she standing on the pavement with a bladder so full that she nearly did it in her pants, but also she was accused of being a bad parent, and on top of it, her son was risking expulsion from the only daycare she could afford to find. Her legs weakened and she fell down to her knees, grabbing her crotch through her sweatpants again to counter the surges of urine inside her.

“Please… no,” she managed to stammer, “I need this daycare, I can’t find any other, I promise it won't happen again, I can’t help it, my subway train was stuck for over an hour and…”

‘Always the excuses, miss Rodrigo, always the excuses. Your boss wouldn’t let you leave, you had to take your neighbor to the hospital… and the subway, yes the subway, that’s a classic. No - I won’t have it. Your son is getting expelled, and that is final. You’re not the only one with a life, you know? In fact, I had a doctor's appointment five minutes ago. An appointment which I’m now late for. I swear, miss Rodrigo, I hope I won’t miss it…”

“You won’t miss it, I promise,” Olivera cried out, “I will be a good mother, but I need this daycare, please don’t expel my son, PLEASE!”

While she felt her bladder pounding inside her, Olivera noticed a tear forming in Miss Walker's eye. The daycare principal obviously felt sorry for the poor mother who was pleading on the pavement for one last more chance. All that Olivera could was hope that she would reconsider. “Please,” she prayed again, “check the news tonight, the subway was blocked, please, you will make it to your appointment, please, don’t do this to Eric…”

Miss Walker sighed. “Look, get up, miss Rodrigo, I’ll look into it. If all of this is true, then perhaps we can reconsider. But I really have to go now - if I don’t make it to my doctor's appointment, expulsion is a sure thing.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Olivera cried with tears of joy, and watched how the principal took off into the nearest street.

 

Olivera’s emotions were on a rollercoaster, because her joy abruptly faded as she suddenly realized that she still needed to pee desperately, and the daycare center was now closed. She looked up to Miss Walker, who was only twenty meters away, and considered calling her back to open the door. “Excuse - bathroom - bathroom, bathroom, BATHROOM,” her tormented body urged her to go through with the second phase of her plan, but Olivera couldn’t. She knew that she had barely managed to convince Miss Walker to reconsider Eric’s expulsion, and didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Get your shit together and become a good mother”, the principal's words echoed in her head, and she looked at Eric, who was sitting in his stroller.

 

“Mommy… cry…” he said, and Olivera smiled at him, her son giving her strength to endure in her battle against her own bladder. “Good mothers can hold it”, she thought, “good mothers do everything for their kid. I’m a good mother”, she said to herself, and she watched how Miss Walker walked off into the distance with the daycare building keychain in her hand.

“Good mother’s don’t piss themselves on the pavement”, she finally said to herself, and walked towards the stroller, determined to make it to a bathroom before her bladder would give away. But where exactly? The daycare center wasn’t an option anymore, and she was in the middle of an office district, after conventional work hours. Even if she could convince some security guard or late worker to use the office lavatories in one of the buildings, it could take ages. No - she needed to find a public which she could use, no questions asked. “Fuck…”, she moaned as a sudden painful wave ran through her body, she had no time to think anymore. “The subway station lavatories”, she decided, “I’ll have to run to the station, oohhh… I really hope I don’t piss myself before I get there…”

 

Olivera really couldn’t tell whether she would be able to make it or not. She had had her share of close calls in the past, but she never in her life held it up to this point. The point where her abdomen was so full that it was physically impossible to contain any more urine. Her bladder muscles on fire, worn out after fighting pressure wave after wave. She had to try - for her own dignity - for her son. “I’m a good mother”, she repeated again, and with that, she started her trip towards the station.

 

The next seven minutes were kind of a blur to the tormented Olivera. With watery eyes, she bursted through the streets as fast as her own tired muscles allowed her. Every once in a while, when the urge became too strong, she had to stop to recompose. “Oh god, ooh…”, she prayed once again - Olivera was beyond desperate. Before the wheels of the stroller came to a standstill, her hand darted towards her sweatpants, her fingers digging under the elastic, eagerly reaching for her privates. “Still dry”, she thankfully sensed as her fingertips brushed her underwear, and then she mashed her digits onto her privates, searching for the spot closest to her aching pee hole. Olivera was slowly getting delirious, not being helped by her son Eric, who complained every time his mother stopped to perform her much needed ritual.

“Mommy... ungy… ungy!”, he shouted to indicate that he was hungry. Olivera always gave him a chocolate cookie after picking him up from daycare to keep him busy, but she had other things on her mind right now. It would take her precious seconds to grab the bag, search for the cookie and open the packaging for him - she simply didn’t have that time. But the longer she ignored her son’s plea, the more impatient Eric became, and the more annoyed Olivera became.

She retracted her hand from her sweatpants, felt the weight of her bladder coming down on her again, and pushed the stroller forward again.

“Mommy has to pee pee, ok, mommy has to pee pee, and then you'll get your goddamn cookie!”

 

After what seemed like an eternity to the tormented Olivera, she finally reached the subway station, and rode the escalator towards the underground level, where the public lavatories were located. She closed her eyes to concentrate on clenching her muscles together, balanced the stroller with one hand, and tugged her other hand into her pants again.

 

Halfway down the escalator, she opened her eyes again and laid eyes on the bathroom door. She almost started to cry with joy once she saw that there was no line anymore. The “key in lock”-syndrome kicked in big time, and the burning sensations inside Olivera’s bladder were now stronger than ever. It was as if the thousand of drops inside the vessel had a mind of their own, pushing themselves towards her urethra, her bladder muscles barely holding the flood back. Her breathing intensified and Olivera massaged her privates furiously, her antics somewhat covered behind Eric’s stroller. Impatiently she waited for the person in front of her to clear the escalator. “Come on… come on… come on…”

 

From the moment the wheels of the stroller touched the edge of the bottom floor, Olivera yanked her hand out of her pants, and firmly pushed the stroller in the direction of the bathroom door. It was there, a place where she could pee, finally, after holding it for so long! Her bladder was pounding inside her, begging for immediate release, and Olivera began to rehearse the next seconds in her mind. In her imagination, a ghost version of herself was running ahead of her actual self, like in a racing video game. She envisioned her alter ego rushing into the hallway and into the stall, parking the stroller, closing the door, and yanking her pants down in one fluid motion. Olivera briefly thought about her clothing choice for the day; the sweatpants were perfect for a moment like this. No fiddling with belts or pants buttons; she would be able to yank her pants down in one go and… Olivera shuddered and tried to escape her delirious thoughts, but couldn’t. “Good mothers can hold it”, she smiled through her tears of both joy and misery, “time for mommy’s reward…”

 

Little did Olivera know that a split-second decision that she had made months ago, had influenced the outcome of her struggle.

“Were you able to make a decision, miss? Do you take the City Walker Q2, the more compact stroller? Or the Niagara Wheels outdoor edition, the one with the wider wheelbase for larger stability?”

--- HERE YOU HAVE TO MAKE A DECISION AS A READER --

Did Olivera choose:
A: The Niagara Wheels outdoor edition
B: The City Walker Q2

 

Option A. Niagara Wheels outdoor edition

 

Olivera arrived at the door of the lavatories and hastily tried to push the stroller into the bathroom hallway, but the front wheels violently clashed against the doorposts.

“No - no - no… no!”

She couldn’t believe it; the porcelain throne that she so badly needed was just a few steps away from her, but she couldn’t get there! The wheelbase of the stroller was too large for the small hallway door, and the vehicle wouldn’t fit through it! In utter despair, she turned the stroller around and tried it backwards with the same result. She and Eric were stuck outside with no way for her to get the stroller in. For a second Olivera thought about leaving Eric in his stroller in the subway hall, but once again today, her maternal instinct stopped her. She simply couldn’t leave her precious child alone in the busiest subway of the city, not even for a few seconds. And with how full her bladder was, she would need more than a few seconds… Tears welled up in her eyes; Olivera was totally devastated and didn’t know what to do anymore.

 

“Mommy… ungyyy!”

 

Eric’s impatience pushed Olivera over the edge, and felt the control of her bladder muscles slip away. She was done, mentally and physically exhausted, and she did no longer have the strength to fight the inevitable. Olivera decided to make an end to her misery; her body deserved relief after such a long struggle. She gripped the handles of the stroller firmly, closed her eyes, ready to wet her pants here on the spot, and felt… nothing. Not a leak, not even a drop. Olivera slipped her hand inside her sweatpants for confirmation, and felt that her panties were indeed still dry. Strangely enough, the realization that she wasn’t pissing herself in the public subway hall frustrated her. She wanted relief, she wanted to have an “accident”, but something in her prevented that from happening. Now she really didn’t know what to do any longer. A part of her feared that she had pushed her bladder too far and damaged herself. But another part of her reasoned that her pride stopped herself to piss herself in full public. She needed a more secluded space - an alley, a bush, a garbage bin she could squat behind.

 

She opened her eyes, and decided to make a run for the subway exit, in the hope to find such a spot. Each step took her a massive effort, the pressure inside her almost insurmountable, but Olivera powered through. She wanted to push her stroller onto the escalator upwards, but then noticed that the stairs weren’t moving; the escalator was out of service! Olivera shuddered and her knees trembled; she couldn’t believe her misfortune. She felt like collapsing on the subway floor, but then she felt that someone was picking up the front of Eric’s stroller. Olivera looked up through her tears and saw a man dressed in a blue suit smiling at her, indicating that he was willing to help her on the way up. Lacking the strength to decline the gentleman’s invitation, she lifted the other side of the stroller, and…

 

… immediately felt how the dam inside her bursted. The strength that she diverted into her arms had weakened her bladder muscles, and the floodgates had opened instantly. In a single second, her panties were drenched. Olivera  panicked, dropped the stroller onto the floor again, and pressed her legs together with all her strength, hoping to stop the jet of pee slashing out of her. She succeeded at first, but then another tick leak escaped, and she realized there was no way back anymore; she was peeing her pants!

 

“I’ll… I’ll take the elevator”, she stammered with a high-pitched voice, and pulled the stroller back. A few people behind her had to jump out of her way as she ran towards the elevator, hardly seeing anything as tears blocked her eyes. Another jet of urine bursted into her panties as she raced through the subway hall. She had reached the elevator, and for the first time today, Olivera was in luck. An elderly couple had just exited the elevator, paying no attention to the 26 year old mother in the process of wetting herself, and Olivera just managed to push the stroller in between the closing doors.

 

She didn’t even wait for the doors to close entirely; Olivera positioned her thumbs beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and under the edge of her panties, yanked the two pieces of clothing down, and then… let everything go. A high pressure jet gushed out of her tormented bladder, past her urethra, and splashed onto the tiled elevator floor. Olivera sighed, but couldn’t enjoy her moment of relief entirely at first; she looked towards her son Eric with an embarrassed grimace on her face. She was ashamed of what she was doing; 26 year old women were not supposed to piss in such a public place, let alone with someone watching them. But the more her abdomen deflated, the more the physical satisfaction of letting it all go took over Olivera’s body.

“Don’t judge me Eric,” she said, “I only did this for you… oh, the things I do for you…”

 

And for a brief moment she smiled, right before the elevator doors opened again. Olivera, still pissing a river in between her open legs, watched in horror how the elderly couple she had passed by less than a minute ago, was standing in front of the open doors.

"I told you we should have got off on another floor!" the older woman scolded her husband, just before her mouth literally dropped open in shock. "Oh my..." she whispered, turning her head away from the scandalous scene unfolding before her.

"Oh my..." said her husband, staring and smiling instead.

"Mommy pee-pee, mommy pee-pee!" shouted Eric amusedly.

It was a scene Olivera wouldn't soon forget.

 

 

Option B: City Walker Q2

 

Olivera arrived at the lavatories and hastily pushed the stroller into the bathroom hallway, gasping for breath as a sense of victory washed over her. Involuntarily, her bladder muscles started to weaken just a little bit, so that she would be able to immediately start peeing once inside the stall. Her mind had calculated how many more seconds it would take her, and her body had initiated the countdown. Five seconds to rush down the hallway, five to open the stall and park the stroller, and another five to close the door and remove her pants. Good thing there was no-one queuing in front of the bathroom, because there was no way back anymore for Olivera. She hungrily pushed the stall door handle and…

 

… the door stayed shut. Through her tears, Olivera hadn’t noticed how the toilet vacancy sign was red instead of green. It took her a few seconds to properly realize that someone was in the stall; the cubicle was occupied! 

“No - no - no… no!”

She couldn’t believe it; the porcelain throne that she so badly needed was just an arm’s length away from her, but someone else was using it! She tried to regain the strength in her muscles, but failed miserably. Furiously, she yanked the door handle a few more times, to no avail. “It’s occupied!”, exclaimed an unknown woman at the other side of the door, 

Minus five… four… three… two… one…

 

Olivera felt it all go wrong as the control of her bladder muscles inevitably slipped away from her. Her knees trembled; she was exhausted, and she simply didn’t have the strength to hold it any longer. The floodgates opened, and Olivera realized that she couldn’t save her dignity anymore, and hastily tried to salvage her clothes instead. She positioned her thumbs beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and under the edge of her panties, and yanked the two pieces of fabric down. A thick stream escaped from between her legs, barely missed her underwear, and splashed onto the bathroom hallway floor. Olivera sighed and squatted down in order to unleash the flow entirely. Although it felt good to take the burden of her bladder, Olivera wasn’t enjoying the moment very much. She was ashamed about what she was doing and wanted to end it as fast as possible, but her stream went on and on and on.

“Fuck Eric, the things I do for you…,” she sighed under her breath, “luckily you will forget about this when you grow older…”

 

Olivera heard the stall lock unlatch and watched in horror how the unknown woman inside opened the door. She tried to taper off the stream but couldn’t, still pissing a river in between her legs in full force. She panicked, feeling bad enough that Eric had witnessed her accident, let alone a grown woman, and clumsily pulled up her pants, to cover herself, although she was still going. Her panties were drenched instantly, and a dark stain rapidly appeared on her sweatpants. She turned her head away from the woman in shame, and now regretted her decision to put on her pants again. The steaming puddle on the floor clearly indicated that she had just pissed herself, and now she was only making the aftermath worse. 

 

The unknown woman judgmentally looked at her, and whispered something along the lines of “what a disgrace, and in front of your child too… I bet this kid’s mother is a real treat…”

 

This was the final mental blow for Olivera, who felt so lost, so beaten, and she started crying like a child, while emptying the remaining contents of her bladder into her underwear. She couldn’t convince herself anymore that she was a good mother. "The principal was right, the woman was right", she thought, "I am a disgrace to Eric, my poor baby" - when in fact, the opposite was true. She had traded her own dignity for the safekeeping of her son, which was one of the noblest things a mother could do. She would eventually come to that conclusion in a few days, but not now.