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Peecember - assorted stories


Guest Monedulla

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Guest Monedulla

I've always wanted to start writing my own omo stories, and when I saw a list of prompts for 'omovember' I knew I had to at least try. November didn't work for me, so this is ' peecember', a month where I'll be attampting to fill all the prompts in the aforementioned list. It won't be daily probably, but I will do them in order and keep going until I finish, even if that will take beyond december. If anyone has any ideas, whether to do with the prompts or seperate, feel free to mention them. I can't promise I'll get to them, but inspiration can come from anywhere.

Now without further ado: the first story

1. Desperate in a vehicle

It’s been three hours since the defect toilets were announced, and Raena is just about ready to burst. She’d held off going to the bathroom because she would have had to pass two sleeping people, but she was certainly regretting that now. She wasn’t the only one in trouble either. One man had come to the stewardesses in tears, and was begging to be let in when he finally hunched over and flooded his pants with a desperate cry. People has been struck silent, before bursting out in awkward giggles as the harsh hiss of piss pouring out of him had spread through the air. No, that wasn’t going to happen to Reana.

Something is going to happen though, she realises as she tries to discreetly rub her thighs together. The people next to her are still asleep, which gives her a small measure of privacy to discreetly hold herself under her airplane blanket. Even the firm pressure of her hand on her pussy is not going to be enough to hold back the flood gathering within her. She will have to think of something soon, or she will pee whatever she was meaning to do.

The mere thought of it- letting go, pee spurting out of her and gathering between her legs before dripping off the seat- is enough to send a spasm through her abdomen. She gasps as she can feel the fabric covering her crotch dampening against her hand. For a second or two the relief is too much to handle, but then she gets herself under control just enough to cut off the flow. But not for long… Knowing that she’s running out of time, she quickly rearranges the blanket over her lap to hide what she knows she won’t be able to stop. The cushion of the seat feels absorbent enough, and it’s not like she’s got any other option by now.

 Right before her exhausted muscles give up completely, she tilts her hips so she is pressing her crotch into the seat as much as possible, and the next moment the floodgates open. Raena can feel the piss burst from her body in a forceful flood, the hot urine immediately soaking into the fabric of the seat. Her eyes flutter closed and she has to bite down on a groan as relief ripples through her. Not only is the sensation of finally letting go delicious, the feeling of doing something so… Forbidden is also enough to have her grind her hips so in the soaking seat in search of a more pleasurable friction. Her piss is flowing out faster than the seat can soak up, and she can feel the damp heat spread until she has a puddle under her ass as well, and even dripping along the front of her seat. The blanket is covering everything though, and continues to do so until her bladder has finally finished emptying itself. She sits back in the chair with a sigh, finally catching her breath back. The seat is hot and squishy underneath her, but no one seems to have noticed what she just did. A few hours to go in the flight, and then she will have to get up. But she can figure that out later. For now she just wants to enjoy the relief.

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Guest Monedulla
2. Peeing them self at a desk

Hannah stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. The slow on-off of the vertical little stripe is taunting her, she knows it. She knows she has only until midnight to finish the essay that will make up half her grade, and she also knows that she left it until way too late. If she keeps typing uninterrupted for the next couple of hours, she only needs about 400 words per sixty minutes to make the word limit. It is not insurmountable per se, but it would mean she needs to focus for the next couple of hours, and that’s not going to be an easy feat. Especially with the added… compications.

She shifts in her seat and wrinkles her nose at the way the movement crinkles. It was downright humiliating, the position she found herself in, but to be fair- she had kind of brought it down upon herself. Her roommate, Jane, had warned her several times that she wasn’t going to take much more complaining about the essay if Hannah didn’t actually do something about it. Of course that hadn’t deterred her from complaining more, and the next thing she knew, the snack cabinet *and* the liquor cabinet had brand new locks on them, the combination of which Hannah would get only if she was going to work non-stop until she was finished. Jane had even threatened to give away the more expensive bottles of liquor if Hannah didn’t ’ shut up and get it over with’, and since she didn’t drink herself Hannah wasn’t about to call her bluff on that.

Of course she still had the need to be cheeky about it. ‘What about toilet breaks,’ she’d said, 'you can’t stop me from taking a piss when I need to.’ She’d felt vindicated when Jane had shut up, but in hindsight she probably should have recognised the glint in her eye. Jane always did take being challenged rather seriously.

Which brings Hannah to her current situation. Sat at her desk with a half-finished essay in front of her and her arse encased in the biggest diaper she’d ever seen. It would be ridiculous, except that it had worked so far. Jane had left her alone in their shared room, but had hinted that she would know if Hannah got of the chair before finishing. Well, if saying 'I’ll know if you’ve gotten off that chair before finishing’ can count as 'hinting’. It seemed ridiculous, but this was coming from the girl who once filled someone’s shower with playpen balls just to prove a point. Best not to test her, really.

With apprehension bordering on fefar rooting her to her chair, it had seemed silly not to start writing on the essay, and she’d maken good headway. In the beginning she’d laid off the iced tea that served as hydration, but once she got to writing she’d gotten confident that she would finish before she would start to feel a need to pee, so she’d popped open the first bottle when she got thirsty. That had been two and a half bottles ago, and she was starting to regret the mistake.

As fast as the writing had gone in the beginning, she has now hit a block, and at the same time she can feel her bladder start to fill up. She isn’t quite at the point where she would normally get up to piss, but it won’t be long and in the meanwhile she’s only written about 50 new words in the past twenty minutes. The diaper mocks her with its crinkling as she shifts again, trying to think of something new to say. Any other time and this would be enough to tempt her into checking facebook for 'just five minutes’ and then suddenly two hours would be gone. If she does that now, though, she will be that much closer to wetting herself in a diaper like a baby, and that thought is enough to drag her attention back to her writing. She can do this. She’ll have to do this.

The internal pep talk works and for a while she is submerged in her writing again. The wordcount goes up and up, and while it is not a masterpiece, it’s not crap either. The slow filling of her bladder is only noticeable in the very back of her mind as she makes connection and comes up with conclusions. Writing like this is thirsty work, and before she knows it she’s polished off her third bottle and has opened her fourth.

The next time the urge hits her, she actually has to press her thighs together under her desk. The movement of it only serves to pull her attention to the strange bulk of the diaper between her legs. The plush cushioning of it is not uncomfortable, but it doesn’t give her nearly the relief that she needs right now, the pressure that would help keep the piss gathering within her at bay. It is getting harder to concentrate now, but she keeps writing, even though her leg is bouncing in agitation the whole time.

There is no ignoring the pressure in her abdomen now, but she soldiers on with her writing. She’s almost there, just another page, maybe two at most. She feels kind of ridivulous, sitting there struggling not to leak while she knows there is a toilet just behind the door. If her first option is a diaper though, Hannah has no desire to find out what Jane has in store for her should she not follow the rules. No, she just has to suck it up and finish before-

She gasps in the middle of typing a sentence and her hands shoot to her crotch. She doesnt just have to pee now, she *needs* it, and the need is coming in waves. It’s not just her bladder now, but her pussy is throbbing with it, as if the piss that’s building up within her is violently battering at the walls of her control, eager to burst out and soak into the padding that was designed with that express purpose. There’s heat now where the padding is pressing into her cunt, and she only has a few moments to breathe before another wave of need sends another spurt out of her.

Hannah whimpers as she cuts it of before it can grow into a full-on stream, but it feels like the lid is almost blown off her control. She’s certain she’s dribbling, even as she clenches and bears down to keep the liquid inside of her for just a moment longer. The worst part is, she is not so sure if she would even make it to the toilet if she were to stand up right now. Her bladder is a hot tights ball in her abdomen and every little shift in her chair has her feeling like there’s an ocean sloshing around inside of her.

She doesn’t even decide it when her body finally gives up. One moment she’s holding on for dear life, whimpering as she shifts in her seat, and she is suddenly hit by an all-encompassing feeling of relief. Her body melts into the chair as the heat around her crotch suddenly increases and a loud but muffled hiss signals the piss finally pouring out of her urethra. It surges out in a flood of wet heat, and she can feel the padding of the diaper swell and fill where she is still pressing her hands into her crotch. The front of it rapisly swells, and mere moments later she fills up the seat of it as well, moisture leeching under her ass as well as she fills up the diaper to it’s full capactity. It is squishy and heavy by the time her stream finally starts to taper off, and for a moment she fears she will overflow it, piss still pouring out of her even as it seeps out through the seems and onto the chair and floor. It seems safe though, even as she pushes the last bit of urine out of her blessedly empty bladder with a small grunt.

For a moment she just sits there, panting and shifting in the squishy wet diaper that she just filled up because she couldn’t hold her piss in for another moment. She feels like she should be disgusted with herself, or at least embarrased, but all she can feel is the warm and content afterglow of relief. She just pissed herself like a toddler, and she kind of liked it.

With one last squeeze of the warm mass between her legs, she turns back to her work. only one more page and she’s finished, after all.

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Guest Monedulla
3. Relieving them self in the woods

When she gets left alone, they collar her and tie the collar off to a post someway out of the edge of camp. They used to hobble her legs and bind her arms as well, but over time it was clear the sharp pins on the inside of the collar were more than enough to keep her subdued, especially since the spikes were flaked with silver as well. Not enough to burn her as long as she didn’t pull, but enough to make any contact with blood extremely painful for her. If she tried to pull at the leash tying her to the post, the pins would dig into her neck and she would end up blinded with pain. Of course the leash itself was also covered with thin silver chains, so she wouldn’t be able to pull it with her hands.

Point of fact being, she was stuck and she had accepted this a long time ago. Someone would come to feed her every once in a while, unless they wanted her hungry (which was often). At least she always had water available, which didn’t really fill her stomach but at least kept her hydrated and strong. Of course none of them really cared to hep her in any way deal with the results of getting fed and watered.

Usually her chain was long enough to grant her some motion, and she would do her business in one corner and spend most of her time in another. Sometimes she even dug a little trench, in case she was expected to stay there for a longer stretch of time. She would pass the time by observing the world around her, watching birds fly to and fro and little animals skittering around just outside of her reach. When the cam was busy, she could tune into conversation happening at the edge of her hearing, tales and reports and arguments that really didn’t tell her all that much, but when she was listening at least she had something to do.

Sooner or later the water would gather up inside her, signalling she had to piss. Most of the time she waited for a bit, or she would be pissing every hour eventually. When her abdomen would feel full and heavy, she would make her way over to the trench, squat and hike up her robe and let the piss flow out of her. The moments of relief were actually a welcome distraction from the monotony of waiting that made up most of the rest of her days.

Sometimes, though- especially when the group was travelling- they tied her up with the leash pulled short. All she could do was stand withing a meter or so of the pole, and sit down with her back to it. She was closer to the camp as well, but no one bothered much with her. She knew they were afraid of her, the humans who had seen what she could do. There was not much she could do about it, and frankly she didn’t really care to do that much about it.

Though it would be better if they had trusted her enough to have a bit more space. She’s sitting on the floor now, and has been for a while. The pressure signalling a need to piss had started quite a while ago, but with no space to get away from her sitting place she would end up sitting in the mess and she really didn’t feel like sitting or standing in a cooling puddle of her own urine. Perhaps if she holds it long enough, she’ll be taken away for an assignment, and she can piss somewhere other than where she has to sit. She’s done it before in similar situations after all. Like the time where she’d been tied away in a tent for hours until the master saw it fit to take her out. She’d barely walked out on the dirt outside the tent before the piss’d come pouring out of her. The terror of soiling herself when she should have been listening had been worse than the relief from finally being able to let go, but at least it had been Vorhees and not master Duncan witnessing her shame. The nasty old man had scoffed at her predicament, but has paused until she’d finished emptying herself before dragging her on to where she was needed without a comment.

Carmen’s thighs jerk together as a wave of need rushes over her at the memory. Okay, perhaps it’s not the best idea to think about pissing how that she’s desperate enough to need to go herself as well. She can feel the fluid gather within her heavy bladder, almost sloshing around as she shifts and squirms in an attempt to get comfortable. There is no getting comfortable with the hard bulge of her bladder, though, and if she’s honest to herself there will be no getting out of this dry as well. She’s only been here for half a day, after all, and usually she’s not needed until the camp has fully ssettled and build up its defences which will take another day at least. Another day of sitting in her piss until she might get a chance to wash off in a stream or something.

Still, even that thought doesn’t make her want to let go. It’s one thing to piss yourself because you can’t hold it any more, it’s another thing entirely to piss yourself on purpose.

Time slows down to a crawl as her entire focus narrows down to the flood she’s trying to contain within her bladder. It almost feels like it is pulsing now, the urine within battering at the gates of her urethra. She’s constantly rubbing her thighs now, pressing her hands between her legs to try and keep the flood back with a physical barrier, even though she realistically knows it won’t work. She can already feel a dampness between her folds, from the small desperate spurts she wasn’t able to hold back.

“Don’t worry, I can help you,” a whispered voice startles her out of her concentration.

She jerks her head up and gasps as a longer spurt forces itself out of her body. It’s not often that she doesn’t notice people sneaking up on her, but she’s been rather preoccupied after all.

“You… what?” she asks, too baffled to say anything coherent. There was a human in front of her, a young woman who she can’t recall seeing before. Her scent seems familiar though, so she’s probably been around the camp for a while.

“I’m Marigold,” the woman says quickly, gaze darting to where Carmen’s hands are still jammed tight between her legs. She knows it’s utterly humiliating to be caught like this, but she can’t be sure she won’t start pissing the moment she takes them away and that would be worse.

“I heard them say they tied you up tightly, and since we’ve been here a while I thought you might want to… em… relieve yourself.” She actually blushes at this, and Carmen would have rolled her eyes had she not been fighting back another pressing wave of need. This weird human was offering her to take her somewhere to piss, and right now she didn’t care about anything beyond that.

“Yes, yes please,” she ground out. Of course in the next moment she realised that she would also have to get up. Still, it was either getting up or pissing herself on the spot, so that’s an easy choice to make. Carmen carefully takes one hand out of her crotch, gasping a little at the loss of pressure, and uses the other the steady herself on the pole as she carefully stands up. She keeps her thighs pressed together very tightly, and can’t quite stop the quiet moans and gasps that spill out of her when she feels the painful ache of her hard bladder throbbing in her abdomen.

the woman, Marigold, seems a little taken aback by how easily she wants to go along, but her desperate need is clear enough that she get herself into gear. Carmen can detect a hint of fear in her manner- which isn’t surprising- but she also seems to genuinely want to help her, which is new. There is no space in her mind to think about it now, though, since the change to an upright position is making it even harder to hold back the lake of piss that is threatening to spray out of her with force.

Marigold fiddles with the silver latches for a bit, unlocking the leash and uncoiling it from around the pole. Carmen is dancing on the spot, shifting her hips this way and that in an attempt to get a few more moments out of her weakening urethra muscles.

“Um, I’m afraid I’m not allowed to give you any privacy, but I can take you to the latrines if you want? Or we can-”

“Just get me to the forest,” Carmen quickly cuts her off, nodding to the edge of the trees around her. Marigold hesitates, and Carmen quickly squishes any thoughts of her trying to escape.

“Just the edge, honest. I’m about to burst here…”

There is that blush again, but she has no time to dwell on it because they are finally moving, Carmen walking along obediently like a dog on a leash. She’s felt like a dog before when she’s dragged around one way or another, but never like this, never taken out for a walk because she doesn’t even have a place to piss in quiet.

The walk seems so much longer than the few paces it is, and she hobbles awkwardly with her hands between her thighs, far beyond shame if it means she doesn’t have to deal with sitting in her own filth. They are not even halfway to the edge of the trees when Carmen can feel her fragile control start to slip, one spurt forcing itself into the rough fabric of her robe, and then two steps later another.

“Oh no, no, no,” she groans. She dimly registers Marigold stopping to look back at her, but she can’t do anything other than hike her robe up to her waist just in time for the dams to burst completely. She is still standing when the piss that had been building up within her bursts out with force, arching out from her cunt in a thick stream with a strong hissing sound.

“Uuuhhn~ ” she groans out, eyes closing on their own accord as the relief rips through her like a hurricane. She quickly spreads her legs a bit further to keep the piss form coiling down her legs. and drops into a crouch as her legs start to feel faint. She’s already making a puddle, the urine rushing out of her faster than the ground can absorb, the force of the flow foaming it up as she pisses and pisses and pisses for what feels like ages.

Her feet are getting wet from the puddle spreading over the floor, but at least her robe is clean and she’ll be able to walk away from this later. She sighs as her body starts to relax, even as the piss is still pouring out of her in a steady, but slowing stream. When it finally starts to die off, she starts to register the other person again. Marigold is mere steps away from her, bound by the length of the leash, but staring resolutely in the other direction, cheeks mottled up with a blush that seems to continue below the neckline of her shirt. Carmen is still breathing heavily from the exertion, and as the final drops fall from her dripping cunt, the reality of the situation hits her all at once and she can feel her own cheeks start to heat up as well. She stands up with a jerk.

“Ah, I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t-”

“Oh no, it’s fine, I really should have-”

“I hope I didn’t-”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t-”

“I mean to say.. Um.. thank you,” Carmen finishes, staring determinedly at a point just over Marigold’s left shoulder.

“That’s… that’s fine,” the other woman says, visibly shedding off anything else she’d meant to say. They stand in silence for an awkward moment, Carmen carfully stepping away from the impressive puddle she created and wiping her feet on the grass.

“Do you… I mean, we’re going to be busy for a while building up still, and I have to tie you back up. I can come back for you tonight, but if you still need to… Um, I mean I can take you to the edge of the forest if you want?”

They’re both blushing by now. Carmen hadn’t thought there was much to be embarrassed about for her, but she hadn’t imagined talking about whether she had to take a shit with woman who couldn’t be older than herself for the purposes of then being able to take that shit while she was watching. Or, at least standing close enough to hear everything - which she wasn’t going to think about thank you very much.

The problem, of course, being that she does have to take a shit, at least enough so to know that another half day of waiting would end up with her squatting right next to the pole she would still be tied to.

“That would be… yes,” she says as matter-of-factly as she can manage. They walk in silence to the edge of the wood, and then Marigold stands on one side of a bush while Carmen squats on the other side. It is highly uncomfortable, and it takes a while for her to relax enough to start doing her business. The soft thuds of her turds on the forest floor sound very loud indeed in the silence, but thankfully neither of them says anything. She stands up once she’s done, but the movement jostles her suddenly tender bladder, and the next moment she’s pissing again. She gasps softly and sets her feet apart to let the pattering stream fall to the forest floor.

“More?” Marigold says softly, “How much did you hold?” The question is loud against the soft pattering of the stream, and she seems to realise what she asks the next moment because she rushes in to apologise.

“Oh my gods, I can’t believe I said that out loud, I’m so sorry,” she turns to look at Carmen, sputtering a little when she realised she’s still peeing.

Carmen can’t help it, the situation is suddenly so funny that she has to burst into giggles. It tapers off with the last of her pee almost as soon as it started. She surpised herself, she isn’t used to laughing much.

“It’s okay,” she repeats again, and find to her surprise that it actually is. “I’m used to being left alone for long periods of time, so I’m used to… holding.”

Marigold looks surprised, and then determined.

“I’m going to tie you up now, but I’ll be back this evening. And tomorrow morning. I think I can manage two times a day, but I might try for three if I don’t have to… work.”

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Guest Monedulla
4. Desperate with a friend or lover

They end up crammed in close in something that- whatever it was before- is now obviously used as a smuggling compartment. Carmen is shoved in first, and Mar follows a bit more carefully. Carmen only just manages to fold herself into a sitting position before Marigold lands in her lap. Then the first latch closes, taking with it the light. Carmen can hear the sound of tiling being put back in, then the closing of the second hatch and only after that footsteps fading away.

They sit in silence, the tense situation killing any conversation before it can begin. Besides, any noise they make might very increase the chances of them being discovered. So Carmen just focuses on the proximity of the woman sitting in her lap. They’ve become closer these past few weeks, but they’ve never really been physically close, not like this. The scent of the strawberry blonde soon fills every corner of the small dark space, tinged with fear as it is. (Not strange considering they are in complete darkness with who knows what going on above them)

Carmen can feel the soft fabric of her many layers settle against her skin, and the steady expanding and decreasing of her chest with each breath is very relaxing. Carmen can easily imagine spending time like this, and as the minutes crawl by she settles in patiently for what might very well be a long wait. Mar, on the other hand, seems to feel differently. She sits still enough at first, but when the initial shock of being stashed away has passed, she shuffles around seemingly in search of a comfortable position. Carmen doesn’t blame her, her lap can’t be particularly comfortable after all. But after the sixth time the sorcerer shifts around in her lap, she’s starting to get a little annoyed herself.

She brings up a hand to ever-so-lightly rest on her leg, pressing down for a moment in a silent bid for her to choose a position and stick with it. It works, as in that she stills, muscles tensing up underneath her hand. Carmen wonders for a brief terrifying moment if she’s gone a step too far, if she’s assumed a familiarity between them that really isn’t there at all.

“Sorry,” Mar whispers, tension clear in her voice as well as the line of her body. “I just… I kind of have to, you know, ‘go’.” The hesitation in her voice is so familiar by now that Carmen finds it easy to imagine the blush that has to be rising on her face. the mental image is so amusing that it takes a small moment for her words to fully register.

Ah. Wasn’t that something? A bit of a turn-about if you thought about it. It would be funny, she supposes, if it wasn’t such a possibly dire situation.

“You what?” she whispers back, keeping her voice low as well. “We were just in the woods, there was a stream even. You were there when I-”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in,” Carmen might be imagining it, but did she sound a little strained already? She certainly was fidgeting again, thighs clenching tightly before rubbing against each other fitfully. Now that she had verbalised the problem, Mar seemed to have lost a barrier to betraying the need of her body.

Carmen might not be able to see her, but the way they were pressed together she could feel every movement of her body. Neither of them said anything for a while. What was there to say? They both knew they could be in here for twenty more minutes or three more hours or even the rest of the day. The way Carmen saw it, it was very unlikely indeed that Mar would be able to get out of this hole before she… before she…

Carmen feels her mind skittering past the subject even as her body becomes increasingly aware of the slights shifts of the woman’s body in her lap. Her legs are tense and she seems to try to keep still, but then her muscles jump as she clenches her thighs together and shifts in a way that sends little jolts of heat to the base of Carmen’s brain.

Marigold is squirming in her lap and all she can think of is how she wants to hold her down by her hips and pull her in even closer. She must be feeling pretty desperate to be squirming this much. Gods know Carmen has been there. If she was by herself, she would probably be pressing her hands into her crotch, pressing into her heated core in an attempt to relieve the aching pressure in her groin. Carmen felt her hands jerk a couple of times so far, but she seems to be holding back. because Carmen is there? Can she possible be as aware of Carmen as she is of her?

Carmen knows she would be aching for some pressure against her cunt if she was in Mar’s position. Hands were good, but what she might really ache for, would be to slip her thighs around one of Carmen’s so she could press down hard and grind her entire pussy against the hard line of her thigh. Carmen would let her (would let her do anything really) would press back and would help and would make things better, and perhaps Mar would eventually press her knees in between her thighs as well and they could-

She is pulled from her thoughts when Mar suddenly tenses all over, before finally jutting her hands between her legs. There is a hint of urine in the air and Carmen is suddenly aware that she is shamefully, terribly aroused. Almost without her own input, her thighs press together and she can feel the aching in the core between her legs.

Then a sob breaks in the air. Mar is still squirming in her lap, but her shoulders are tense and shaking quietly as another small, broken sound tears from her throat. Carmen is momentarily speechless, guilt flooding her mind. Had the woman in her lap somehow guessed what she was thinking? Was she now disgusted by her? Was she causing her only friend pain?

“Carmen, I’m so, so sorry,” the blonde says in a broken whisper. “I don’t think I can… Ah~ I think I’m gonna…” she chokes up again at those words and Carmen feels almost frantic in her need to reassure her.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she says softly, carefully bringing her hand up so she can rub gently at her side. “You can’t help it.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’re gonna think I’m disgusting and then we’re going to be here for gods know how long and-”

“I never think you’re disgusting,” she interrupts her. “I could never. You just have to pee and that’s okay.”

“Ooh, don’t use that word,” Marigold moans and she hunches over, panting with exertion. There is a hint of pain to her noises now, which is something Carmen really can’t stand.

“What word? Pee? Piss? Letting go and flooding your pants?” Carmen keeps going, and Marigold groans pitifully at every word. She shifts, tenses and then she must lose control for a second because the scent of urine becomes even stronger.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, no,no,” Mar mutters, fighting to get herself back under control. She manages, but barely. There is a noticeable spot of heat between them now, and the blonde is trembling where she sits.

“Shh, let go. You’re hurting yourself, just let it out,” Carmen says, still rubbing her side. She noticed there is a distinct husky tone to her voice, but she can’t bring herself to be bothered about it right this moment.

“Oh no, I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it,” Mar is whimpering almost directly into Carmen’s ear now, seemingly unaware of what she is doing to the brunette with her desperate string of commentary. “Shit shit shit, oh it’s- ah! It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s aaahh, aha ha, Uuuhhnn~ ” she breaks off into breathy groans and murmured profanity even as every line of tension in her body tightens and then suddenly relaxes.

There’s a bloom of heat between them, immediately followed by wetness as a strong hissing noise fills the air of the cramped compartment. Marigold has collapsed completely into Carmen, hips rolling slightly as the piss keeps pouring out of her and into the layers of fabric separating their heated skin.

“Oh gods, oh gods, Oh Carmen,” she moans brokenly, but the edge of intensity is letting down and so is the stream. First the hissing stops, then the waterfall of hot piss slowly dries up into a trickle and then just the sodden fabric between them. None of them talk for a while, but Marigold makes no move to move her face from where she buried it in Carmen’s throat.

 
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Guest Monedulla
5. Wetting in a sexy outfit

Sharon shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. The corset had seemed a good idea at the time, but she was really regretting her choice of garment at the moment. The theme of the party was ‘Chicago’ (the musical, not the city), and everyone had gone all-out with glitters and sequins and netted panties abound. Sharon herself had opted for frilly hipsters combined with garter belt and stockings for a bottom, and an underbust corset and a lacy bra as a top, with a volumunous feather boa draped over her shoulders for effect. She looked damned good, if she did say so herself, but the look was coming with a very pressing downside.

She had been watching her fluid intake the whole evening, since he toilets at parties like this tended to be rather too disgusting for her taste- and even more so as the night went on. She hadn’t counted on the corset pressing down on her bladder, though, and it was becoming increaasingly clear that that oversight was going to cost her. When she’d started feeling the urge to urinate she ignored it in the hope it would go away, but half an hour later it had only gotten worse. It was at the point where she couldn’t count on herself to keep everything contained until she got back home.

There was nothing to it then, filthy toilet it was. As she made her way over to the stairs leading to the bathroom, she quickly realised that her urge was worse than she had intially thought. Standing still had been fine, but now that her movements were jostling her bladder, she had to stand still and clench her thighs together a couple of times to keep anything from leaking out. The stairs were even worse. She could feel the piss slowh around in her bladder with every step, and it was a very good thing indeed that salvation was so close at hand.

She managed to reach the top of the stairs with minimal leaking, but when she went to open the toilet, the door opened to let out two clearly intoxited girls.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you,” the more sober of the two said with a wince. “My friend was just sick and, well… it’s not pretty…”

Shock and disgust warred within Sharon for a moment, but the next moment they both made way for desperation. There was no way she was going to set a foot in that room now, but she wasn’t about to piss herself in the hallways either.

She quickly stumbled through the hallway, showing a hand between her legs when she was fairly certain no one could see her. She opened a random door and found herself in what seemed to be a teenage bedroom of sorts. Luckily there was no one else inside, or she wouldn’t have known what to do. Sharon was running on instinct now, desperately glancing around for something that could help her. Her eyes fell on a trashcan, and she wasted no time in getting it underneath her. She was already pissing by the time she sat down on it, a stream of urine bubbling through her fancy panties bfore spraying out with force. It clattered noisily onto the papers at the bottom of the trashcan, and for several long moments the clatter and the hissing of her stream were the only sounds in the room. Then it eventually tapered off, and Sharon was left panting as she sat on a trashcan she had just emptied her bladder in. Her panties were sodden, but thankfully they were black so the wet patch didn’t show.

She couldn’t hide in there forever, so after catching her breath she pushed the bin under the desk and slipped back out of the room. Someone was going to get a nasty surprise some time the next day, but since it had prevented her from making a mess out where everyone could see, Sharon didn’t feel particularly bad about it.

 
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Guest Monedulla
6. Realising they have to go, but being too busy to take a break.

Chrissy crosses and uncrosses her legs under her desk. She’d been working non-stop for nearly five hours now, and she had almost met her daily quota that would allow her a toilet break. Time was money after all, and never more so than in today’s economy. Shift workers like herself had strictly rationed personal time at work, which meant her employers controlled when she got out of her seat and for what reason. And like most employers these days, Flexcorp inc. wasn’t particularly compassionate when it came to… personal needs.

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” she says, wincing when the strain she’s feeling carries through to her voice. She’s going to get a low rating if she doesn’t manage a more chipper tone, and her average will be brought down. Working on a full bladder is a pain, which was why most of her coworkers simply relieved themselves at the desk, accepting the cleaning fee that was docked from their salary as collateral. Chrissy, however, hates to spend money that she could choose to save. And in the larger scheme of things, momentary discomfort in return for greater wealth was a bargain she is only all to willing to accept.

Of course, it didn’t mean she have to like it.

“It sounds like it might be a problem with the connection, sir. Could you check whether the cable is connected?” She winces again, this time from an urgent wave of pressure rippling through her body. She shifts in her seat as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line, pressing her thighs together rhythmically.

“Yes, that’s the one. No, sir, it is not ‘just an extra’. No sir, it is not 'just like your phone charger’. No sir, if you could just try pluggin it in. There, see? Wasn’t that hard, was it?” She knows she should be more friendly, get rid of the strain in her voice. But it’s really damn hard when she’s bouncing her her seat and what feels like a whole lake is pressing down heavily on her urethra, eager to come rushing out of her.

“This user rated the experience two out of five stars? Really?” she complains, and at the desk across from her Frank, her co-worker, sniggers.

“That’s what you get from attempting to work an a full tank, Chrissy. I’ve already pissed twice since I got here, and look how relaxed I am? As a matter of fact,” he grunts and she can hear a zipper being pulled down, “I’m starting to feel kind of tense…” He scoots down in his seat a little, arm moving to take himself out of his pants and aim to the floor. Chrissy can only see his face fall slack in relaxation, but she can definitely hear the hiss of his piss and the clatter when it hits the floor. Her bladder spasms at the noise, body eager to let go of the strain of holding and empty itself out all over her nice clean work space.

“Shit, Frank, you’re such an asshole, do you know that?” Chrissy says from between clenched teeth as she buries her hands in her crotch to relief the pressure building there. Frank may be an asshole, but he’s right that she’s tensing up from this. Only one more call and she has access to a toilet break, with 20 credits saved on cleaning fee. That’s a lot of money for just keeping her piss contained for another couple of minutes. One more call. She can do this.

With a click of her mouse she accepted the next call, a mechanical tone in her headset indication that a connection has been established. The voice on the other end of the line sounds friendly enough, and the problem seems to be a simple case of a malfunctioning secondary buffer. Still, as she talks the caller through the first couple of steps, she can’t help but shift in her chair restlessly. 

The need to let go is coming in waves now and she can’t stop a shocked gasp from coming out when a spurt of urine soaks into her panties. She immediately goes back to holding herself, pressing her hand tightly into the hot wetness of her crotch. The pressure helps to clamp back down against the flood threatening to come pouring out of her, and she pants slightly as she holds on to the last bit of control she has.

“Are you okay?” the voice over her headset snaps her out of her thoughts as she realises she hasn’t said anything for several long moments. 

“Yeah, I just- ah- I just really need to piss,” she can feel a blush rising to her cheeks the moment the words come out of her mouth.

“Oh… That’s…”

“Shit, ignore that please. That was terribly unprofessional,” she’s rambling, she knows, but she can’t afford to lose this customer when a successful call is all that stands between her and sweet sweet relief. 

“So now you should be seeing a new window…"She manages a few more suggestions before her body hijacks her attention again. Not a full-on leak this time, but a stab of urgency that punches the air out of her in a groan. She’s got her hand down her skirt now, pressing her hand against herself as hard as she can, with only cotton and nylon separating her fingers from the place where she needs them most.

"Are you sure you’re okay? You sounds… rather strained.” The voice sounds concerned, but there is a hint of something else there. Apprehension, perhaps? Or disgust?

“Yeah, just… Just click 'options’ and then… and then…” try as she might to keep things professional, Chrissy can’t keep from trailing off into another groan as her hand keeps pressing rhythmically at her urethra to convince her body to keep the flood within her contained for just a few more minutes. Her bladder feels rock hard in her abdomen, where she can feel the full, bloated weight of it every time she shifts in her seat.

“Are you still holding it?” the questions sounds very deliberately casual, and Chrissy is pretty sure she’s not imagining the slightly anticipatory edge to it.

“Uuggnn~ yes, it’s starting to hurt now… I just need to hold it… a bit longer…” she’s too far gone to keep up the professional front by now. Her whole world has condensed down to the fullness of her bladder and the voice in her ear.

“Wow, that’s… Tell me what it feels like.”

“It feels like… like I’m fuller than I’ve ever been. I can feel the weight of what I’m holding inside of me, and I can feel that it wants *out*. I… I don’t know how much longer I can keep it from coming out…”

“Are you holding yourself?”

“Uuhnn~ Yes, yes I am,” Chrissy moans, “I’m rubbing at myself, pressing in tight to keep everything in. I need to piss, I need to let everything come out but I also need to- oh, oH Aaahh~” She breaks of into a surprised moan and the voice, when it talks, sounds urgent.

“What happened? Did you lose control?”

“No.. Well, yes but only for a second. Some came out and now the rest wants to come out as well… My skirt is still dry, but I don’t think I can move without… without…" 

"You’re wearing a skirt? Stockings as well?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do for me. You’re going to hitch up your skirt, slide down until you’re over the edge of your chair and pull your stocking and panties tight against yourself.” the voice seems to bypass all of her defences, and before she can even think about it Chrissy finds herself following the instructions.

“And now, remembering that you will tell me what it feels like, you will let go.”

Those words are apparently all she needed to hear, because the next moment the piss is pouring out of her full force. She’s moaning from the force of it, head falling back as the relief rips through her.

“It’s gushing out of me,” she pants into the headset, “It’s- ah, it’s so good~ I’ve never pissed this hard in my life and - ooOH, I can’t stop, couldn’t stop even if you told me too,” she keeps talking, her piss a strong stream arcing out from where she has drawn the fabric of her underwear tight against her cunt.

“I’m not going to tell you to stop,” the voice on the phone says, almost as breathless as Chrissy herself, “You’re doing great, keep talking.”

“Oh fuck, I can hear it- the hiss of it, it’s- uhn, it’s loud. And it just keeps coming. I.. I- aah, I can’t believe I was this full. I’m pissing all over the floor, I can- oh fuck- I can hear it clatter in the puddle I’ve already made and I’m- oh Oohhh, I’m not stopping. I was going to hold it but you told me to piss and it just came pouring out of me before I could think and it just- uuhn~ It just feels so. Fucking. Good." 

She trails off into pants and groans as the deluge finally starts to die down into a trickle and then into nothingness. As she sits there catching her breath, all composure gone and puddle at her feet, it hits her all at once what she has just done. She’s pissed herself with a customer at the line, describing how it felt in lurid detail. In her panic she can’t quite remember that the customer hadn’t exactly been a unwilling participant herself, and in a hot rush of embarrassment she hits the 'end call’ button. A few moment’s pass and there is a beeping sound as the computer spits out her assessment. 

*This user rated their experience five out of five stars* 

Another beep and it turns out she left something in 'additional comments’ as well. The string of numbers are briefly meaningless, until Chrissy recognises it as a phone number. Huh. She might have lost twenty credits to clean-up, but this might not have been a complete bust after all…

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  • 3 weeks later...
Guest Monedulla

December is over, but that doesn't mean I'm abandoning these prompts!

7. Unable to locate a toilet

Come on, we should almost be there,“ Alec glances at her girlfriend as she says this, hoping that almost was going to be soon enough. They’d been searching all over the park for a toilet for at least 20 minutes. In hindsight they should have just gone back to the entrance the moment Zoe said she needed to pee, but she needed to go pretty badly and there were signs promising a toilet closer by pointing in the opposite direction of the entrance. They did exist, but were out of order for some reason or another. There had been directions posted to another set of nearby toilets, but the two of them must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because they are still nowhere in sight. Alec’s speeding up now, dragging her girlfriend along by the hand.

Zoe is walking funny- has been for the past ten minutes- and the small gasps and frequent stops are getting more and more frequent. When Alec had picked a spot for them to have a nice picnic, this was not the outcome she had in mind.

"Babe, slow down,” Zoe says, her voice tight with nerves. “I… I’m not sure if I-”

“I’m sure we’re almost there,” Alec cuts her off, looking around for anything that might be a toilet block. In any other circumstances she wouldn’t hesitate to encourage Zoe to squat behind a bush or something, but there are far too many people around on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this to make that a viable option.

They round a corner past a row of bushes, and Zoe gives a strangled groan at the sight that greets them: a fountain merrily spewing several jets of water fills the clearing with a clattering sound. Zoe is suddenly running, dragging Alec along by the hand. They reach a patch of grass and Zoe sits down immediately, skirt spreading around her. Alec sits too, wondering for a moment what just happened when a soft hissing noise reaches her ears.

“Holy shit, are you..?” Zoe just nods, a glazed look of relief on her face as she sits in the grass pissing herself right through her panties. Alec can feel her cheeks heat up with a blush, and she glances at the people around them nervously before her gaze is drawn back to Zoe. No one is watching them, she realises. No one knows that her girlfriend is currently pissing onto the grass right in front of their eyes.

She doesn’t know why the thought intrigues her so, but it does. Zoe is holding her hand, squeezing slightly as her pants slowly fade back into regular breathing.

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  • 2 weeks later...

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