Bladder Strain on the Train

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Some weeks ago work took me to a meeting in London from which I had to go on to a day conference in Brighton. As per company policy travel was by rail, normally a reasonably pleasant affair as the main line trains although crowded are quite comfortable. I had expected to return from Brighton via London, the reverse of my outward journey but found that the cheapskates in the office had booked me on the slow, all stations coastal route back to Fareham. I had never used this service so had no idea what awaited me. If I had I may have arranged things differently.The conference did not finish till late in the afternoon and I had to dash for the station to get my booked train, not even having time to use the loo before I left the hotel. Not that I was worried, after all, I had never travelled on a train that did not have toilets and had no idea that I would find myself stuck on one without such a basic facility.I reached the station with only minutes to spare, dashing though the barrier and into the first relatively quiet carriage, settling in for a journey of almost an hour and a half. The train was old and uncomfortable, with low backed, narrow seats and seemed decidedly scruffy. Fortunately my carriage largely emptied by Worthing so I was at least able to stretch out a bit and get comfortable, apart that is from a growing need for a wee. I looked around for the usual signs showing the direction of the toilets but could not see them anywhere. Assuming that the signs were simply missing I was about to try the next carriage when the train manager appeared checking tickets. I asked her where the toilets were – and learned to my horror that there were none on these trains. She did not like it herself and sympathised but basically I could get off at the next station with toilets or hang on to my stop, nearly an hour away. To get off would mean waiting ages for the next train so, perhaps foolishly, I chose to hang on. As it turned out perhaps not my best ever decision.Of course knowing that you can’t get to a loo only helps make the need greater and with half an hour to go I was desperate, legs tightly crossed and fidgeting about in my seat – not a good look for a normally confident 20 something professional dressed in smart business, skirt and jacket. As the train rattled on I began to think the unthinkable. What if I couldn’t hold on? To wet myself in private would be mortifying enough but to do it in my seat on a train . . .!Somehow I had to hang on and hope I could reach the station loo in time when the train finally reached Fareham. Those 30 minutes were agonising as each jolt of the train threatened my weakening control. I don’t think I had ever been more desperate in my life, even near the end of long boring meetings when I was not the only one who had to dash straight for the ladies as soon as the meeting ended. On those occasions of course the toilet was nearby and if necessary I could have excused myself had I been really bursting.So I sat there, trying not to panic or focus on my aching bladder, praying that I wouldn’t wet myself but increasingly worried that I was going to have a very embarrassing accident. I had only wet my knickers once as an adult and that had been down to too much alcohol when celebrating the end of exams. I hadn’t been the only one and had largely forgotten the incident till now as my present plight brought back memories of a hot wetness down my legs and an uncomfortable walk home in soaking knickers and skirt. I flushed at the memory and at the embarrassment of my current predicament.The train slowed again and in the darkness I made out the station name – Porchester. Almost there, just a few more minutes and I could find the relief I needed, so just hang on girl! Those last few minutes seemed like hours but finally we pulled into the platform at my station. Grabbing my overnight bag and raincoat I hobbled to the door almost losing my weakening control as I did so. Stepping gingerly down from the train I looked around for the Ladies, spotting the sign only 10 metres away – salvation. Or so I thought.I pushed the door but it didn’t move. I pushed harder and the then I saw the notice ‘ “Closed Please Use Alternative Toilets on Platform 1”. In my shock the inevitable happened – my knickers suddenly warmed and a wetness trickled down my thigh. How I prevented immediate catastrophe I don’t know but it took all my willpower to regain control and I knew there was no way I would ever make it over the footbridge to the other platform or even out of the station without wetting myself totally. I just couldn’t hold it any longer and there was nothing I could do now except surrender to the inevitable. I was going to wet myself and there was nothing I could do about it.I glanced around for some sort of cover and as quickly as I could manage hobbled the couple of metres to one of the metal seats that were sheltered by windbreak screens. Pulling out my phone I quickly sat down and stared intently at the screen, keeping my head down. Taking a deep breath I just let it happen. A hot flood filled my knickers, welled up between my legs and pooled underneath my bum before dripping through the holes in the seat to form a growing puddle beneath me. After what seemed an age my bladder finally emptied. The relief was incredible, almost orgasmic and I sat for some minutes composing myself while quietly dripping! Strangely, having mentally accepted that I had no choice but to wet my knickers I didn’t feel the horror and embarassment that I had expected. What with the overwhelming relief and the strangely pleasant feelings in my crotch as I flooded my pants it was actually quite an erotic experience!But now I had to get home, some ten minutes walk away. My knickers, tights and skirt were soaked and even though my skirt was black it would cling – it would be obvious to anyone taking more than a cursory glance that I had well and truly peed myself. I could walk home as I was or I could put my raincoat on and which, being knee length, would at least conceal what I had done, albeit it too would get wet from my soaking skirt. At least it was washable and wearing it would avoid some of the embarrassment of walking home in my ‘condition’.So, slipping on my coat I took a deep breath and headed for the exit, which fortunately was unmanned. The streets were quiet as I tried to walk as quickly and as normally as possible – not easy in my soggy underwear and with my wet skirt sticking to the back of my legs. Fortunately I didn’t meet anyone I knew and was soon able to breathe a sigh of relief as I closed my front door behind me. I’m not sure I would call it good luck after what had happened but at least I had avoided total humiliation and hopefully only I knew what I had done.As I took off my coat I caught site of myself in the full length mirror and was surprised to see that my black skirt and tights largely hid my accident though as I felt round behind me realised that the whole back of my skirt from the hem almost to the waistband was wet. Amazed at just how wet I was I became intrigued as to the state of my knickers. Unzipping my skirt I let it drop damply to the floor and pushed it away. My tights were pretty much drenched on the seat, front and between my thighs but being thick and black hid they their wetness well. But what about my knickers? I peeled off my tights, dropping them on top of my skirt and inspected myself front and back. I was wearing lilac coloured light control briefs (or were they now loss of control briefs?) now dark with wetness. Hardly a dry patch remained – the whole back was wet top to bottom and the front was similar, the result of wetting myself sitting with my legs together. I realised that had I done it standing I wouldn’t be so wet but it would have been much more obvious what was happening.I would have expected that wet knickers would be uncomfortable but they felt rather nice, especially between my legs! Indeed, the warm, wet gusset caressing my pussy as I walked had made me more than a little aroused. Continuing to watch myself in the mirror I ran my hand over my wet bottom, quite enjoying the feeling. My fingers moved between my legs and as I massaged my clit through the soaking material another wetness flowed from me. Sinking to the floor I continued to pleasure myself in front of the mirror till I came so intensely that I wet myself again, another orgasm rippling over me as the puddle spread around my bottom. It was almost like a scene from a porn movie!It was some time before my orgasmic high subsided to be followed by very confused feelings – disgust with myself for putting myself in a situation where I had had to wet my pants like a silly teenager but also intense curiosity at the feelings it had given me. Rationalisng things I realised that I actually enjoyed both my accident and what had happened after. Weird, or something to explore further?Still wearing my wet knickers I put my other clothes in the washing machine and mopped the hall floor. I was about to take shower but for some reason decided to grab a drink and something to eat first, putting a thick towel on my chair before sitting down. Only after eating did I head for the bathroom. Surprisingly I needed to wee again but instead of using the loo I stepped into the shower and just did it in my still wet knickers, savouring again the warm flood around my clit and down my legs as I weed myself for the third time in as many hours.I had discovered something exciting. Now I had to experiment further.By: Poseidon

 

Pt. 01: It Happened on a Weekend

 

 

 

 

 

Warning: Story contains female desperation, forced wetting, and other piss fetish.

Disclaimer: All characters are purely fictitious; similarities to real human beings are not intended. Any similarity is to be regarded as accidental and done without the knowledge of the author.

Copyright remains with the author.

****

Wetting her panties, Gillian felt warmth spreading in her crotch as she was typing the last paragraphs to her new story. Soon, Shara and Ger would have another item to add to their female desperation site. Pee started dripping from her chair onto the carpeted floor under the hotel desk. Rejoicing in her naughty act, consciously soiling the material that was hers only for a night, she felt a wave of ecstatic heat flooding her body.

Three hours ago, she had eaten a small salad and drunk a couple pints of beer with her colleagues before retiring to her room. She had made good use of her time, enjoying the slow build-up of desperation as the beer filtered through her system. The story of Meg and Kelli had spooked through her mind since earlier today, and her filling bladder provided the right inspiration to bring it to paper.

Now her story had almost reached its climax -- and her sphincter had given in. First a short, hard jet of piss had soaked the gusset of her panties, but she had managed to clench shut. Five minutes she sat, pushing her hand against her dripping pussy, trying to force her body to obey a little longer. Her black business skirt was pushed back, exposing her pink cotton panties -- to nobody. She was alone, fortunately!

The same was not the case for Meg. She was still with her employer, watching in awe the scene unfolding before her and fighting similar disobedience of her body. A trickle of urine was slowly finding its way out of her nether parts, soaking through her panties and running in a glistening rivulet along her thigh.

Gillian resumed writing. She had to finish her story before the accumulated volume of hot piss broke the barriers of her pelvic muscles. Trained through regular pelvic exercise and holding games, she knew she only had a few minutes left before her dams burst -- despite the controlled spurts she squirted into her lower garments every once in a while. Already, the padding of her chair was completely soaked and a constant trickle along her leg was slowly soaking into the soft carpet her naked foot rested on.

This is how I imagined the genesis of the stories that introduced me to erotic literature. Shara and Ger's site is now defunct and Gillian's mostly lesbian stories, often with two-word titles like John Grisham's novels such as "The House", "The Job", or "The Match", have all but disappeared from the web.

Her stories of female pee desperation, wetting, humiliation, punishment, and -- ultimately -- pleasure inspired me to start writing myself. A character in my first story "Bunker Break" (available on Literotica) is named after her.

Somewhat later, I wrote a tribute to Gillian: "A Fortnight Later or It Happened on a Weekend" is the first part of a short series spun in my mind as a sequel to her aptly titled story "Punishment by Desperation". Its title says it all: punishment by desperation. Yet there is so much more...

For those who didn't get a chance to read Gillian's story while it was still online, let me provide a short introduction of the situation -- somewhat evolved by my repeated fantasizing about it -- without giving away too much of the original story.

Kelli's parents were pretty well off and played their role in the local community. They held to their reputation, and unfortunately Kelli had been caught in some situations that made it appear prudent not to leave her without supervision. This despite her being a senior in high school and recently having turned eighteen.

They had hired Meg, the well-mannered and impeccably behaved daughter of one of Ms. Anderson's club acquaintances. As appearances mattered in their little world, they were not aware of their babysitter's motivation to accept the job: Yes, Meg needed the money -- her parents didn't fully finance her expensive college degree. But first and foremost she was sexually attracted to Kelli. She had seen her more than once, but as her lesbian interests needed to remain a secret from the older generation, she had never found an excuse to chat her up. Hence she eagerly accepted the offer to become her tutor.

One day, she found herself accompanying the stuck-up, spoiled brat to the mall. Kelli's character left much to be desired. Had Meg not been in a position of authority, she couldn't have put up with her behavior. And now -- they had barely reached the mall -- Kelli already needed to use the bathroom. Just twenty minutes ago, she had rushed Meg to hurry to drive her to the mall...

To her chaperone's delight, Kelli had not been able to use a bathroom at the mall.

Much later, as they were walking over the parking heading to Meg's car, Kelli was in a desperate state.

"I got to pee!" she burst out, wrenching herself free of Meg's grasp and running for the mall's entrance.

Meg turned and slowly walked behind her, smiling as she observed security closing the doors, locking the mall for the night. 'What a sexy ass in these tight black leggings -- she really is a hot girl!' Meg thought by herself, sighing. 'If only she hadn't such a terrible character.'

"Can you believe it!" Kelli screamed as Meg reached her. "He closed the door in front of me. I told him I'm desperate to pee. I can't hold it anymore! Fucking asshole!"

"Watch your words when you're with me!" Meg admonished her.

"What am I to do now?" Kelli accusingly turned to Meg. "I'm bursting! My bladder, my whole body hurts. I'm going to wet my pants!"

Meg smiled at her. It was not a warm smile. "You'd better control yourself -- we'll be home in less than thirty minutes. You're a grownup woman, not a baby girl. You can control your body!"

Kelli had half hoped to be able to squat behind the car, but when she made a move Meg quenched all her hopes:

"Are you crazy?" Meg chided. "Expose yourself in public? Do you want to risk ending up at the police station? After the attention you drew to yourself with your dancing around and shouting at the guard -- you can be sure he'll be watching us until the car leaves the mall's grounds!"

And that was it.

Kelli was stuck with her bulging bladder in Meg's car, the seat belt doing nothing to ease her predicament. The better part of half an hour's ride home -- an eternity in her state.

Had Kelli expected her ordeal to be over when they got home, she'd soon find out she'd been mistaken. Meg had had enough of her behavior and decided to pay back by making her suffer her pee desperation even longer.

I can't give away the heart of Gillian's story; just know that Kelli ended up wetting herself in front of her babysitter shortly before her parents returned. When Kelli was about to tell them, Meg cut in and divulged how Kelli had misbehaved at the mall. As a consequence, Kelli was grounded and received a solid spanking on top when her mother discovered the mess she'd left in the basement.

"You didn't need to see this." Mr. Anderson commented as he handed Meg a generous tip on top of her pay.

He'd been distracted by Meg flashing her panties as she sat facing him during the punishment of his wayward stepdaughter. He hoped Kelli hadn't felt his growing boner as she lay spread across his knees. He could have sworn Meg's panties showed telltale signs of moisture and he wondered if she was aroused. Or had she been about to lose control the way Kelli had?

Stepping out of the house, Meg felt a first -- no, second -- spurt of pee leave her urethra, filling the space between her labia before filtering through her panties and running along her athletic legs. She was about to lose control, about to piss her panties like she had never done in her life. She'd already trickled a little when she'd sat waiting and watching. Had Mr. Anderson noticed? Her aroma had been wafting through the air around her, mixing with the smell emanating from Kelli's soaked panties.

Meg was about to come -- hard. She didn't know Mr. Anderson's stare was following her and taking in the glistening streak along her leg. She didn't see the tent his boner was building in his trousers, but she wouldn't have cared. She sat in her car, leant back and let the pent-up urine flow, not caring about the consequences for the padding of her seat. Pulling her blue nylon panties to the side, her fingers were frantically rubbing her love knob until she came, and came, and came. Little did she know that by now Kelli lay in her bed, doing the same -- or she might have come even harder. Nor did she notice Mr. Anderson standing at the kitchen window and watching her through the curtains, furtively caressing his boner and hoping his wife would be busy a little longer, cleaning the mess in the basement.

After her orgasms, Meg needed to recover for a few minutes before she was able to drive. At home, she inserted the memory card she had "borrowed" from Mr. Anderson's camcorder and played the video of Kelli wetting herself, over and over again, masturbating all night.

This story kept playing in my mind long after I had switched off the computer. Slowly, a sequel emerged, based on the same characters but otherwise entirely the fruit of my imagination:

About two weeks had gone by when Kelli's parents asked Meg to come over again. This time, they were going to spend the weekend with friends about three hours' drive away. Being grounded, Kelli wasn't allowed to come.

On her drive to their house, Meg fantasized about the things she would like to do. But if things went wrong, how could she make it look like Kelli's fault? It was hard to think of a way to make Kelli play her assigned role without squealing to her parents. Meg wasn't sure Kelli had learned from past experience to keep her mouth shut. It seemed best to leave no traces (and hide any technological gadgets like her cam before the Andersons came back). Without evidence, she knew, they would believe her rather than their stuck-up daughter.

Meg wore a short skirt of a light fabric in washed-denim look and had decided on a white tank top that didn't require a bra yet accentuated her medium-sized round breasts. Sexy, yet business-like enough not to provoke suspicion with the girl's parents.

She arrived at Kelli's house just in time. Kelli's mother already sat in the car and had started her SUV -- she was going to drive. Mr. Anderson handed the house-keys to Meg before joining his wife.

"Enjoy your weekend!" he said.

"Thank you, sir!" Meg replied politely, smiling at him as he walked to the car.

"I hope, my daughter doesn't cause too much trouble -- make sure to tell me, if she does!" he winked with a conspiratorial smile.

Meg noted a bulge in his trousers he could barely hide when he turned from the waiting car. What could be the reason? She knew she looked quite sexy with most of her long legs exposed, but not so much he should be aroused. Had he been reminiscent of the events a fortnight ago? Did he have anything more exciting in mind as he said his last words? All of a sudden, she remembered how he had stared at her when she sat in front of him, watching him punish Kelli. Did he know she had enjoyed the sight? Kelli's ass had been fully exposed to her gaze, only covered by soaking wet panties. They had turned almost see-through by her piss accident. Had he guessed she was into his stepdaughter? Would he mind?

She decided not to let him know she was a lesbian. She'd continue to play the role she had taken as the reliable, honest college student able to cope with the vices of his daughter. Was he having an eye on her, hoping to seduce his employee? During a previous job at a hotel lobby, Meg had remarked men generally tended to be more forgiving towards young, attractive, sexily clad women -- and how it affected tips. Mr. Anderson didn't seem to be an exception. She would wear something sexy when he returned -- just in case. Maybe it would enhance her credibility with him if she should happen to get into trouble because of Kelli...

It was Sunday morning. During the night, Meg had come up with the idea to provoke another accident, leaving some traces. She would show those in case Kelli was going to denounce her. The Andersons needn't know what had happened the day before.

Meg woke up around eight o'clock because she needed to pee. She decided to get up and clean the house to prepare everything in case Kelli's parents returned unexpectedly.

Her full bladder pushed on her sphincter and she hurried to get the work done. She needed to pee, but she wanted to have everything ready before Kelli woke up, too. Before long, she had cleared away the traces of their partying last night: They had gotten drunk on some Vodka she had provided and engaged in some interesting games, a video of which was on the memory card she hid in her car. The card now in her camcorder only showed boring holiday footage. Finally, the bathrooms were prepared -- cleaned and locked -- too. Being done with her work she could no longer deny the urgent need to pee.

Argh! Too bad: She had locked the bathroom doors before she went to the toilet! She was caught in the same trap she'd set up for Kelli. 'Tough luck', she thought, 'I'm going to find somewhere else to go.' Relishing in the extreme pressure on her bladder, she wandered once again through the house, forcing her body to obey just a little longer. Holding her pee, she checked every room, making made sure everything was in order. At the same time, she was looking for a place to naughtily release the floods stored in her bladder. She felt a whole night's liquids pressing on her pelvic muscles, straining to be expelled.

As she entered the living room, a thought crossed her mind. There was a large pot with kitchen herbs that Ms. Anderson was growing here, right at hand for cooking. Meg knew the family used the herbs to spice their food and to prepare herbal teas. What if she abused it as her toilet?

She felt her body tickle with excitement as she visualized the Andersons eating leaves she had peed on. A really kinky idea! And maybe she could even blame it on their daughter in case the Andersons returned early? After last time's incident with Kelli peeing in front of everyone in the kitchen, she was convinced they would take her word for truth! Last night, the drunk girl had confessed not daring to bring up the subject again with her parents. This meant they had never found out the real circumstances leading up to the incident and still believed Kelli had done it in defiance of her babysitter. Meg was terribly turned on. She remembered every second of Kelli wetting herself in front of her.

Meg took off her pajama trousers and straddled the pot. She felt herbs tickling her legs as she got in position to moisten the soil with her concentrated morning pee. She briefly touched herself -- it felt so wickedly hot, she felt her juices lubricating her sex as she was about to spray her piss all over the herbs. Then she relaxed her sphincter muscles. She was so wonderfully naughty!

A spurt of golden pee left her pussy, soaked her panties and, dripping, moistened the parsley. Pee was running along her thigh. She pulled the gusset of her panties aside -- liberating her nicely bundled stream. Yet as she caught her labia in the process of pulling her panties, it fanned into a wild spray of fragrant piss. She watched piss dousing the leaves between her legs. A fine mist covered the low table around the bowl. She shifted her hips to make sure she hit all the different kinds of herbs growing in that bowl, covering them in her morning urine.

Would Ms. Anderson use the basil first? Did she wash the thyme leaves before preparing a meal? Or did she trust the rosemary needles were as clean as one could expect them to be, being grown in her own living room?

Meg peed for about thirty seconds, emptying her full bladder all over the plants. She noticed she had almost filled the bowl, the soil being really drenched with her pee. A few drops had missed and dribbled on the carpeted floor. What a mess! If Ms. Anderson found out, she would certainly suspect her daughter of doing this!

Kelli needed a bathroom badly when she got up around ten o'clock. She ran to the bathroom opposite her bedroom and almost crashed into the door: locked! Cursing, she bent forward, holding her crotch. She had to pee so badly! The alcohol had let her sleep past the point at which her filling bladder usually caused her to wake up.

Quickly, she ran to her parents' suite -- only to find the master bedroom closed as well. Hammering at the door she shouted for Meg. Where was she? Why did she find two bathrooms locked? Or did her parents lock their rooms because they didn't trust her fully? Had they found out she sometimes used their bathroom with the bubble bath and giant shower when she was home alone? She felt betrayed -- did her parents trust her so little that they locked their rooms in their absence? Kelli and Meg had not come close to the room yesterday. A violent spasm in her bladder made her cringe: she needed to run to use the downstairs toilet!

Again the same result: locked!

What was going on? She was getting desperate. Her belly muscles cramped and she felt how her sphincter gave in. Urine was pushing through her urethra and she felt a first few drops spread in her vulvar vestibule. Running down another flight of stairs, she sprinted into the basement.

Bad memories flooded her brain as she crossed the gym and reached her dad's workout bathroom. Losing control in front of Meg had been so humiliating! But it had felt good as the pressure subsided, warmth spreading in her groin and along her legs, her body relaxing, anguish and tension giving way to a relaxed feeling of bliss. The memory almost made her lose control.

She doubled over, pushing a hand in her crotch to stop her pelvic muscles failing her. Eventually, she regained composure and walked up to the closed cubicle housing the toilet. It was locked, too. All bathrooms were locked?! Why? She noticed a strong smell of chlorine. What was going on? She had to find Meg -- it dawned on her she would be able to explain. Kelli was raging with ire at her babysitter: how could she dare doing this to her!

Desperately, she chased all through the house again, looking for Meg. Only after she had scrambled through all the rooms twice -- from her room upstairs to the gym downstairs -- she gave up. The urge to pee had grown so strong she had not been able to perform a very thorough search. She had called for Meg, but not very loud -- if she exhaled too hard, her bladder threatened to burst.

In almost every room she had had to double over and press her hands to her crotch, holding herself between her legs to lessen the pressure on her bladder. But now she felt her sphincter was giving in. Her labia were already moist with stray drops which had found their way out of her bladder. She needed a place to pee! Fast! Was there anywhere she could go? She couldn't hold her pee much longer! But where? There was nowhere to go! After her past experience, having resulted in her buttocks meeting her father's ruler, she was definitely not going to get caught peeing anywhere inside the house!

The garden! This was the solution, she thought. Why didn't she think of it before? She could pee in the swimming pool and tell her parents, Meg had done it.

Bullshit -- no one would know anyone peed in the pool. No need for an excuse!

But now that she'd had the idea, she couldn't let go of it: She wanted revenge. She wanted to get Meg compromised. She longed to see Meg getting punished, switching places with her...

She was getting carried away by her fantasy. There was no way her step-dad would lay hand on his employee. Oh, how she hated her chaperone. She didn't need anyone to supervise her -- she was a grown-up adult, she could take care of herself! And she'd never forgive Meg for what she'd endured a fortnight ago.

Forgetting even her urgent need to pee, she devised a plan: She would have to record Meg in a situation that looked like peeing in the pool. She needed the evidence -- her parents wouldn't believe her without. She knew they trusted Meg. And how could she prove anyone had peed into the pool in the first place? The pee would not be visible in those vast amounts of water... She'd peed in it often enough in defiance of her parents. Could she make Meg pee into the pool by teasing her enough?

She was interrupted in her train of thought: Again she felt her lower abdomen spasm. She clenched her thighs tight to avoid an accident. Nevertheless, she felt a few more drops moisten her private parts. The pressure on her bladder was growing unbearable. She needed to find a loo before worse things happened!

But what about her revenge on Meg? Could she use her urgent need to this end? Her mind returned to her plan. Last night, she had learned that Meg was a lesbian. She had discovered her perverted lust for holding games. She'd seen her piss standing in her dad's gym shower. Certainly, she would be able to dare her into peeing into the pool?

It only took a second for her plan to concretize: She would place her dad's new video cam on the small table between those flowers and greenery in the living room. Camouflaged behind the leaves, it would face on the patio with the swimming pool in the background. If she shut the glass door it would prevent the cam from recording their voices and her dad would not know she had tempted Meg.

She was going to dare her to pee standing from the edge of the pool. Because this was, what she was going to do herself: Stand on the edge of the pool, call Meg, and start peeing into the water. Of course Meg would catch her in the act. Then she would dare Meg to do it, too. Could she pee farther? If she got into the water and teased her, she was sure that perverted bitch would stand on the edge and try to pee all over her as she was standing in the water.

She found the camcorder and went to set it up. She'd just reached the low table at the living room window when a violent spasm shook her body. She'd ignored the urgency of her bladder desperation for too long. Overwhelmed, she felt piss jetting into her panties as she bent forward to stop the flow, almost dropping the expensive cam. Only just, she managed to push it between the plant pots.

It took a while for her to recover and regain composure. Her hands were slippery with pee as she was now handling the camera to position it properly. A strong musk of urine filled the air around her. Somehow, this scent caused a tickling in her groin, as the anticipation of finally obtaining retribution filled her with nervous anticipation.

She didn't notice the traces of Meg's naughty piss on the very same table an hour ago. She attributed the spots on the carpet and the wetness of her hands exclusively to her own accident.

Trembling, she rapidly set the recorder and zoomed such that a corner of the pool would remain outside the frame. Kelli had made sure the camcorder wouldn't record the far corner of the pool: that is where she would pee without it being recorded on tape. Then, she intended to position herself in the pool such that Meg was sure to face the camera when she peed on her -- if nothing went wrong, that was.

But Kelli was too excited to notice this flaw of her plan.

The desire to punish Meg had even made her forget her aching full bladder for a few seconds. She needed to find Meg! Stumbling, she raced through the house, looking for Meg.

But now -- she just returned from searching the garage for the third time -- she felt a surge of pee pressing to the limits of her pelvic muscles as she was running through the kitchen. She was not going to last any longer! She needed to pee first.

Another spurt escaped her urethra as she bent over and pressed her hands to her crotch. A trickle from her panties left a trace of wet spots on the tiles. She needed to pee now! She felt wetness spreading over her hands. Another spurt had pushed through her urethra: She was starting to pee herself -- inside the house! Crouching, she pressed her heel into her crotch, sitting on it with all her weight to stem the tide. She felt how her panties' crotch got soaked with her fresh morning urine, wet warmth covering her heel as she struggled to regain control. Whew! She had stopped the flood!

Quickly, she got up and ran through the dining room, into and through the living room, throwing herself against the patio door to step outside, trying to get into the garden as quickly as possible. No more accident to infuriate her dad!

She almost fainted with pain. She forgot everything she had planned, she just needed to get out and pee! As she was pushing against the patio door, she had to clench her muscles tight to prevent another shot of hot concentrated morning piss finding its way out of her bladder. She was on the very brink of completely losing control! Finally, the door jerked open and Kelli headed straight towards the pool. She didn't consider closing it for even a split second -- there was no time now! All she wanted was to pee.

She ran across the patio. Something white lay in her way, on the ground. A large towel. It was spread on the patio. And now she realized: Meg lay on it, obviously sleeping. Feeling another surge in her bladder, she grabbed her crotch just as she was about to step over her babysitter.

A sudden intuition flashed through her mind: No, she wouldn't jump into the pool and release her bladder contents. Nor would she call up Meg to watch her pee in the pool and tempt her to join in. No, she had found a far better way to relieve herself and take revenge!

She stopped in her track, stepped back. Careful not to make much noise and making sure her shadow didn't cross Meg's wonderful body, she took off her pee stained panties. Moments later, she was straddling Meg's thighs and stood towering above her, legs about two feet apart. Looking into Meg's calm face, she happened to be diagonally facing the house.

Her heart was pounding fast. She was a badly behaved brat, but this was a new level for her. Adrenaline was pumping through her body, making her even forget her predicament for a moment. Listening, she reassured herself that Meg was asleep, breathing calmly.

Meg wore bikini panties and a white t-shirt as sun protection. Meg's nipples were poking through the fabric which was stretched by her round breasts. Kelli felt aroused as she watched Meg sleeping, her body stretched in the sun, barely covered by the thin fabric, unaware of what was to come.

Now was the hour of revenge! She bent her knees a bit to bring her hips forward. Then she pulled her inner labia apart. Not a second later, a strong yellow stream escaped her urethra, hissing loudly. She was breathing heavily as she watched her pee staining Meg's bikini panties. It moved up to her t-shirt as it got stronger. How good it felt: the pain in her body slowly gave way to tingling lust. And how excited the slender girl was to be revenging herself!

Her streaming pee formed a wide arch, splashing all over Meg's fuller, athletic body. At first it only covered her private parts, her hips, and then wandered up to her belly button as Kelli repositioned herself. Gaining confidence, Kelli bent her knees some more, adjusted hips and hands, moving her golden stream further up her victim's body.

It felt so wonderful to be in full control -- and currently she was controlling her pee stream to slowly undulate from left to right, covering Meg's t-shirt as she pushed forward. And she was subduing Meg with this act of total control.

Pushing harder, she let her streaming pee arch wider, slowly progressing up her humiliated babysitter's body. She wanted to drench Meg completely. She wouldn't leave a dry spot on her shirt! Her pee splashed on Meg's full boobs and the fabric turned from white to yellow to a yellowish see-through. Kelli could see Meg's fine pencil eraser nipples and her clearly defined brownish-pink areolae forming a contrast to her otherwise lightly tanned skin. It was very obvious now that she didn't wear any bra or bikini top. Just that light, wet t-shirt having turned almost completely see-through as it was drenched by Kelli's golden shower.

In a final effort, the high school senior pushed harder. Her pee jetted from her inner labia in a wide, strong stream which landed on her victim's left breast. Kelli's piss sprayed in all directions as it hit Meg's nipple. Warm golden urine was running down the beautiful curve of her breast, soaking into the dry fabric of the t-shirt before it collected in her jugular notch and ran down her neck and shoulders, soaking into her hair. Splashes sprayed everywhere, some hitting Meg's face.

Finally, Meg started to stir and opened her eyes. She took a moment to orient herself, but suddenly she was wide awake and staring into Kelli's private parts. She saw the stuck-up girl grinning and pulling her pussy lips further apart in an effort to make her stream move higher. But the effort was in vain, she had exhausted her reserves of concentrated morning pee and her stream grew thinner and thinner. Meg lay flabbergasted and watched as Kelli emptied her bladder onto her. She could see between the girl's spread labia all the way to her swollen urethra discharging an incredible volume of urine onto her.

She began to realize what was going on. Kelli's nipples stood firmly pressed against her silken night dress, her face wearing an expression somewhere between joy, arousal and viciousness, showing a naughty grin around her mouth. Meg could feel the vibe: Kelli really enjoyed what she was doing.

She wondered: what had happened?

She had been lying on the patio, taking a nap after cleaning the house from yesterday's events. She remembered dreaming about a beautiful girl smiling at her and undressing in front of her. The girl had started to pee on her, the girl's stream of clear pee massaging her clit. The pee felt warm and soft and started to tickle her belly. Its fragrance filled the air. Then her nipples were tenderly caressed by a strong stream of pee. The dream had ended when something wet hit her face and she woke up. It took her another few moments to realize her dream was actually happening and that the beautiful girl of her dream was the high school senior she was tutoring.

Kelli was still standing, towering high above Meg, viciously smiling down at her victim. Slowly, she realized she was clueless what to do now. Little did she suspect that she just made a dream come true for Meg.

Disturbing the silence that had settled between them, they heard a car drive up to the house and stop. Neither of them had expected Kelli's parents to return so soon. In a split second, Kelli dropped her night dress and ran inside.

Women Farting Domination: Emma/Rogue by Eobard This story takes place in the X-men animated series from the 1990's or the characters look like they did in it... enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

In the library of the Hellfire Club in Westchester County, New York the Magnetic Mutant Magneto is finishing up a conversation he is having with the mutant Emma Frost.
“It’s over Emma. The Inner Circle is disbanded. Our business together is over. I have chosen my son Pietro to be the owner of the club house. He’ll be here soon so start packing.”
Before Emma could object he had already floated up to the ceiling, opened the sunroof using magnetism, and soured away. She is livid that after all her years of loyalty to the Circle he gives that egotistical fool the place while she gets squat. While she is angry at the injustice done to her she senses a mind of a woman staring at the building from the gate so she decides to enter her mind.
“(in her mind) Hello stranger. I don't know why you're scouting thi…"
"It must stink Mrs. Frost to hear that the boy is getting something you have worked so hard for."
Emma is surprised that she knows of her and about Magneto's regrettable decision but she must follow the Circles guidelines and not work with outsiders.
"My name is…"
Before she could think her name Pietro makes his speedy entrance with his blue spandex suite with the white lightning bolt on it. He runs around Frost to make her fall into the armchair behind her which causes her to lose the telepathic connection to the stranger.
"Hey Emma! What are you still doing here? You were supposed to leave the building about… A minute ago."
She gets up from the chair to tell him off but her powers reads the strangers mind again as Quicksilver goes into a minilogue about his father.
"(Stranger's thoughts)... But you may call me Queen. I plan on taking over the world for all of womankind. You would make a perfect addition to my council.
"Interesting and all but what's in it for me?
"Male mutants will be treated as badly as normal males will be treated but females will be given equal if not more rights than normal women. You will have a position of power as a regent as well as being my advisor for mutant relations plus this mansion. All you have to do is stink up someone close to Magneto using your 'assets'. When that is done follow these directions to officially join the WFD. Ohh and turn to this channel to see the beginning of the revolution.” She thinks the channel number to Mrs. Frost
Emma disconnects from the Queen's mind to find Quicksilver inches from her with a look of curiosity. She gives him a creepy smile that makes him back up a little before suddenly not being able to move.
“I have disabled your arms and legs so you won’t be able to escape. Now Pietro I think there has been a mix up. (gets up from the chair and walks to the scared teen) You see I’m being given the mansion and you will… get to live in it as my personal cushion.”
She grabs him by the collar of his spandex suite then walks a few feet back to the armchair. She releases him at the chair which causes him to fall onto his back with his head resting on the cushion of the chair. As he begs her not to she turns her back to him then sits on the chair.
FFFFRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuubbbbbbbbbbb!
“I think this is the best outcome since we both get to live in here. You might have gotten the rear end of it but hey you could have easily declined your daddy’s gift but you didn't so you have to suffer for it.”
Quicksilver can’t do anything but sniff up her gas as only his head hasn’t been disabled. Suddenly Emma hears police sirens blaring from outside. Using her telepathy she finds the thoughts of one Remy Lebeau on top of a building who thinks that the emerald ring he stole will look perfect on Rogue’s finger. Whilr Rogue levitates above the building looking down at the frenchman thinking that he will never stop going back to being a thief. Emma decides to simply spectate the scene and will only intervene when the moment arises. For now she will watch the news to watch the start of a revolution.

Perched on Top of a building in Westchester County, New York the mutant Gambit a.k.a Remy Lebeau watches on as police officers rush into a jewelry store to stop a robbery. What they don't expect is that the thief had already left the building and is watching with glee as they futilely search it from head to toe for him. While he is watching this a shadow goes over him and he notices who has come to foil his caper.
"What you gone and stolen Swamp Rat?"
He looks up at the cause of the shadow to see none other than the southern daisy Rogue looking down at him with an annoyed look on her face.
"Ahh Cheré old Remy just having a little fun now. What's the harm in that?" He says while admiring the emerald ring he stole then eyeing her up.
"Problem being you given mutants a bad name. Like we ain't discriminated enough already. Now if you'd be so kind as to hand over whatever you've stolen we can head back to the mansion and…"
Before she could finish her sentence Remy pulled a card out of his brown trench coat and threw it at her. She covers her eyes as it blows up inches from her face.
When she moves her hands out of the way she sees that he has already jumped two buildings. She facepalms knowing he would do that then flies over to the building he is about to jump off of. While he is running on the building he is stopped by Rogue levitating a few feet in front of him.
"I ain't gonna let you keep it Cajun."
"I won't be so just let me go on by to the mansion and this whole business will be over."
She was about to respond until Gambit runs at her with his metal staff outstretched then uses it to boost him over her.
As Gambit passes over Rogue she goes to snatch him from the air until a gross thought enters her mind and she can't seem to shake it off. Remy passes over the gap between the building then as he is about to land on the adjacent building Rogue flies into his way. (facing away from him) He couldn't do anything as his face collides with her yellow/green spandex covered bum. She clenches her cheeks to keep him from falling then brings him back to the building he just left.
When she lands Rogue does a complete spin and as she is spinning...
PRRRPPPPPPPPPP!
She lets out a fart then unclenches her cheeks to have Gambit roll onto his back. He sits up then shakes his head not understanding what just happened and fanning her gas away from his nose.
"What the heck was that Cheré?" He asks gently confused about how she caught him.
"I had to release some gas so what better way then to release it on a swamp rat?" She is surprised she said that outloud. (not meaning to) He gets up then dusts off his trench coat while she removes the yellow glove from her right hand
"Well I'll be off before you have any more…"
Before he could finish his sentence she sores at him then covers his mouth with her ungloved hand.
Gambit feels woozy as his energy and powers are being drained by Rogue. She removes her hand from his face, hesitates for a second, then grabs his dark brown hair with her other hand and brings his face to her tush.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP!
Without his energy Remy succumbs to the gas and passes out.
Rogue lifts Gambit onto her shoulders, grabs his staff, then flies into the open sunroof right next to them on the roof. She enters the room to find it to be a fancy library with a fireplace so this must be the Hellfire Club mansion. In the middle of the room she sees someone sitting on an armchair facing a tv above the fireplace that is tuned to the news. Rogue looks up at the tv to see the news is covering a story about the viral video of a teenage heroine using her powers to trap a teenage boy inside a bubble with her farts.
“Magnificent isn’t it? How a man can easily be reduced to a fart cushion.”
Rogue moves around to the other side of the armchair to see a blonde wearing a white corset, cape, pants, and heels sitting on the face of Magneto’s son Pietro.
PRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrppppp!
While also farting on him... yeah she is doomed.
This shocks and scares her so wanting to skip to the point Emma answers the questions she knows Rogue has for her.
“The group has disbanded so I was gifted the building for my loyalty to the Inner Circle. I didn’t let you forget what you wanted to do. You gassed him of your free will.So after answering your questions why don’t you tell me how it felt? .and Quicksilver has… agreed to be my cushion.”
“It felt… good but I know it’s wrong. He will either buy the ring from the store or return it and apologize for stealing it to restore the people’s opinion of us mutants.”
“(yawn) That sounds very X-men of you but how about making equal rights for our kind. I’m talking about joining a group of women that plans on taking over this world. This isn’t like Magneto's plan since he wants mutant supremacy and they want mutant equality sooner than later. Did you see the video of the superheroine putting that teen in one of her bubbles and farting into it? Well I have been in contact with the woman who planned that and she says she is willing to give female mutants equal rights if we join her and her mission to take over the world.
Rogue thinks of it for a second but Emma reads her thoughts and sees her leaning towards telling the X-men all she just said. So she gives Rogue’s thoughts a tiny push to thinking of a world where mutants and humans coexist days from now.
“Alright I’m in but no funny business you hear Mrs. Frost?
Emma gets up from the chair and shakes Rogue’s gloved hand, uses her telepathy to force Pietro”s (passed out at this point) body to follow them, then guides her to the helipad where a military grade helicopter waits for them.
“You have my word Rogue. Now let’s go join the others.”
They get into the back of the helicopter and sit on chairs while they have the guys lay on stretchers with power dampening collars on and Gambit’s items in a duffel bag. As the female pilot flies the helicopter to the coordinates Emma hopes that Rogue won’t realize that her new thoughts of the future has up to no men in it. With the few in it having a look of defeat on their faces awaiting to be used as cushions. Afterall you gotta let loose to rule for Womankind!

Concert Washout - a Story

 

 

 

 

Note: This story contains Female Desperation, and Accidental & Deliberate Wetting. A recent forum post asked about early experiences so perhaps I should tell about mine. I never had any problems when I was younger; as far as I can remember I never wet my knickers or my bed until my late teens, although I can recall several incidents involving friends. In most cases they wet themselves laughing, probably the main cause of accidents for teenage girls. In my case I was a poised and confident student of 19 when I first experienced the thrill and embarassment of weeing myself, though as two of my friends also soaked their pants at the same time we had a good laugh about it. The three of us had gone to an open air pop concert in the country on a gloriously hot summer day. Of course, there were the usual chemical toilets, which we risked using during the morning but which were increasingly foul later in the day. Anway, we found ourselves a pleasant place on the hillside with a good view of the stage but away from the main crush. We danced a lot and drank large bottles of Pepsi or water as we rested, sprawled out on the grass. By mid–afternoon we all needed to wee but as girls do, kept putting it off. As we sat down to rest after a particularly wild dance I noticed Carrie holding herself between her legs as we lay panting for breath on the grass. She saw me looking, announcing to us all that she had almost peed her knickers during the last dance and was so desperate she wasn’t sure she could reach the loo even if there wasn’t a queue. There was, as we could see from where we sat. We would also have to pick up all our gear and push through a crowd to get there.Rosie admitted that she too badly needed to wee as did I, suddenly becoming nervous about what might happen if I didn’t go off to the toilets very soon. I belatedly realised that I was in some danger of a rather embarassing accident, but then grown women didn’t wet themselves, did they? Apparently they did, and sometimes deliberately as well. Carrie looked at the queues then looked at us, saying, “I’ll never make it through that lot. I’ll pee myself before I’m halfway there anyway so I’m just going to sit here and do it in my knickers – its warm and they’ll soon dry! I looked at Rosie who was picking up her things ready to head for the toilets. We both looked at Carrie who had pulled her skirt back and was sitting with her knees up and legs slightly apart. We could clearly see her blue knickers which suddenly darkened as she just sat there and wet them, a stream of wee running down the slope in front of her. We were speechless but the sight of Carrie just letting go made us both more aware of our own need. “God, that feels better,“she announced. “ Well come on, surely you two have wet your knickers before – it’s easier than the trek to those smelly old porta–loos. “I have not,“I growled, “I haven’t wet myself as far back as I can remember and I don’t intend to do it now,“though with an increasing suspicion that I was in a situation where it might just happen. Rosie just grinned and said it wouldn’t be her first accident and at least this time she was wearing a skirt. Apparently she had wet herself some weeks earlier when walking home rather drunk from a friends party. The need to pee had just crept up on her and before she realised what was happening she had soaked her pants and jeans, much to the amusement of her mother who had been waiting up for her.We sat there giggling like kids at the story. Even Rosie was laughing about it till she stopped suddenly and clasped herself between her legs. “Don’t make me laugh anymore or I’ll wet myself again.” she spluttered. To which Carrie responded that if it was that bad it would be running down her legs long before she reached a toilet, reminding her of the long queues. Rosie looked across to the nearest lines and then looked back at Carrie. “You’re right” she grinned with a resigned sigh, “If I’m going to wet my pants I might as well do it here as there. At least it will only be you two who know about it, and Carrie’s pants are wet anyway!” With that she sat down on the slope, skirt pulled clear as Carrie had done, legs drawn up and apart with her knickers clearly visible. She sat there for a while, staring across to the stage. “I can’t do it,” she moaned, “I’m bursting but I can’t let go.” Carrie looked at her. “That happens to me sometimes. Just relax and think about sitting on the loo, then just let it flow.” I began to wonder at that point just how often Carrie wet herself rather than use a toilet.Rosie sat there, eyes closed. Then she stiffened and I watched fascinated as a jet of pee spurted through her pants. She relaxed a moment and then the flood came. A torrent soaked her pink cotton knickers and trickled down the slope away from her before soaking into the ground. She seemed to wee for ages and I watched, intrigued by the sight of my friend sitting there wetting her knickers. “Oh God that feels better,” murmered Rosie, “What a relief. Oh its hot and it tickles. Its running up my bum!” The flow died away and she pulled some tissues from her bag and mopped her thighs. “You’re right, “ she said, “I would never have hung on till I reached the loo. That’s so much better, even if I have got a wet bum.“They both looked at me. Despite the pain in my bladder I backed off doing what the others had done – I was just too embarrassed. Before we could talk any longer a new group began to play. My bursting bladder had me dancing anyway so I jumped up, hoping the movement would help me hold it. Well it did for a while. As the music died away I suddenly felt a warm spreading wetness between my legs. Instinctively I tried to stem the leak but to no avail. The trickle down my thighs turned into a flood. All I could do was stand there looking foolish, wetting my knickers like a silly child. In my surprise at what was happening I cried out, “Oh, Oh, Oh! I’ve wet myself. I’m weeing in my knickers. Oooh! Its running down my legs!” I seemed to wee for ages, standing there legs spread, staring in embarrassed surprise at the growing puddle around my feet and the wet streaks down my legs. A warm damp feeling tickled my bottom as the wetness spread through my cotton pants.“Well, if you want everybody to know what you’ve done that’s the way to do it,” laughed Carrie, stopping to put her arm around me as I started to cry. “Don’t worry,” she said, “Its happened to all of us but it’s much better to quietly wet your pants before you lose control. That way no–one need know you’ve had a little acccident.” Embarrassed as I was I had to admit that I been rather silly. After drying my legs with tissues and a spare tee–shirt I began to feel better. I didn’t even find the feel of my wet knickers uncomfortable, in fact as I danced the feeling of the wet material rubbing my clit made me feel quite randy, though at the time I thought it was more to do with the music!An hour or so later we needed to wee again and as we were all still damp simply sat on the grass and wet our pants again. This time I found the feelings of naughtiness at doing something so forbidden quite exciting and paid more attention to the exquisite feeling of hot pee washing over my crotch. I began to appreciate why Carrie seemed to find pleasure in wetting herself. It was late when we left and before walking the couple of miles home wet ourselves again. I enjoyed that walk.My parents were away so I had the house to myself for the weekend. I needed to wee again by the time I reached home, but instead of using the loo thought “so what, I haven’t used a loo most of the day.” Standing in the back garden I just let go again, loving the feeling as the hot wee filled by knickers and ran down my legs. As the flow died away I rubbed myself to a wonderful orgasm. As a new source of pleasure this was exquisite.Since then I often wet my knickers when the opportunities for such private pleasures present themselves. I have managed to avoid public accidents, though there have been times when I have wet myself on a country walk or on a beach. I’ve only wet the bed once and don’t think I could hide this from Mum if it happened too often (I do my own washing so she has never come across wet underwear). It happened one morning when I again had the house to myself. I woke up desperate but was too lazy to get up and go to the loo, so lay there, rubbing myself to help me hold it. Then I came, and promply lost control and wet my pants as I lay there. No–one knew about this accident except me, but one day Mum is going to notice the large stain on my matress. I think I will tell her I was drunk and had an accident when I didn’t wake up in time.
By: Poseidon

Walk Home

 

 

 

 

 Prologue As she was pulling into the parking site at the largest supermarket in town, she felt her bladder tingle. A part of her now wished she had used the toilet before embarking on the weekly grocery shopping.But how urgent would her need to pee become? This morning, she had had quite some milk in her cereal, drank two glasses of fresh garden fruit smoothie ‘ there were just so many fruit in her garden ‘ and later she had slowly sipped through the contents of two bottles of mineral water whilst going about the normal house work. Too late she realized now that this comprised quite a quantity of liquid which had been slowly filtering through her system since.The last speed bump ‘ the movement vibrated through her bladder, making her feel the amount of urine which had been increasing quickly. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone to the hair dresser? She had had to wait quite a while until it was her turn. And the elaborate hair style she had been sold had taken an hour to do’ But she knew her husband would like it, so it was right she had done it.She parked the car and got a shopping cart. Somehow, the tingle in her bladder didn’t feel uncomfortable, she thought. Actually, it was rather pleasant how her filling bladder pushed against her panties. She had never before noticed this. With her thoughts revolving around this discovery, she forgot about her idea to look for a customer’s restroom as she entered the store.Only two items to go and she would have worked through her shopping list! At the thought of this, she remembered her full bladder. She had been completely oblivious to her growing need to pee as she roamed aisles, scanning the shelves for special offers. In the meantime, her kidneys had released more and more freshly filtered urine into her bladder, increasing the pressure slowly but constantly. Could she have postponed the stop at the mail office? But no, her mom was urgently waiting for the family pictures. She remembered how in the morning she had spent half an hour in the queue just to send them ‘ why didn’t they ever open more tills at this branch?The tingle in her abdomen was getting more intense by the minute. Quickly to the till and then home! She was looking for the relief of emptying her bladder now ‘ the pleasantness she had felt earlier was slowly fading even as she tried to focus on it. Why did the queue have to be so long? It appeared as if it wasn’t moving at all. She was getting frustrated: why couldn’t the service be better?Waiting, she had time to concentrate on her growing need. It was quite urgent now. But somehow, it still felt oddly good. Clenching her sphincter muscle tighter, she realized how this not only helped her stem the flow but also moved her clitoris relative to her labia. Somehow, she liked the feeling of it.Growing up in a rather restrictive, conservative environment, she had never really explored her body. Only by accident ‘ or because her husband had requested it ‘ she had little by little found out how pleasant the occupation with her body could be. But this had always been in the safe privacy of home and in the context of sexual intercourse. Her new discovery didn’t belong to this set of experiences.‘This cannot be true!’ she thought. She couldn’t be turned on by trying to hold in her pee? Certainly, nature would not have mingled disparate functions as this! She tried again, clenching the muscles in her pelvic region and releasing again: Yes, she could feel the stimulation again. Was she supposed to like this? What did this reaction of her body tell her? What was it good for? A sudden urge to pee interrupted her thoughts. She bent over and clenched her muscles tighter; trying to retain the appearance of dignity and nonchalance she was used to by rummaging about the groceries in her cart.Had there been this excitingly sexual, pleasant feeling again? She wasn’t sure: she had been concentrating too much on preserving her appearance. Her bladder started to actually ache rather than just tingle, distracting her attention. Nevertheless, her curiosity had been aroused and she tried again, focusing on the pleasant feeling the clenching and relaxing of her pelvic muscles caused in her vulva.By the time it was her turn at the till, she had stimulated herself to quite a level of sexual arousal without being aware of it. Automatically, she put her shop on the checkout belt, her mind still analyzing the newfound function of her body.‘Eighty–three twenty–five, please’ she was interrupted by the cashier.Blushing, she realized how her nipples were poking through her bra and visibly stood out on her dress. How embarrassing! She had never indulged in sexual feelings in public, ever. She knew how hard her nipples would get and how their shape would be visible through almost any kind of fabric. How could she let herself go like this! Quickly, she threw a glance around. Did anyone notice? Apparently not ‘ no–one was looking at her as she took her groceries from the till and got out her wallet. As was her habit, she paid in cash and pocketed the change, then removed the last items from the checkout, placing them in her cart.Quickly, she left the store. She wanted to avoid anyone seeing her hard nipples poking through her clothing. Only when she sat in the car, she felt safe again. And only now she realized she had spent an hour in the store. Was it four hours now since she last used the loo? This brought her attention back on her full bladder, aching to release the flood of pee collected inside. How could she forget about that! But now she was sitting in the car and would be home soon. No need to humiliate herself hurrying back into the store and asking for a customer’s toilet!Briskly driving out of her parking spot, she felt a jolt of pain in her bladder as she took the first speed bump. She clenched her sphincter muscle to avoid her urethra giving way to any liquid pressing to leave her bladder. Immediately, she had to think about the pleasure she had experienced with this trick and got horny again. A pang of conscience reminded her of her good upbringing ‘ she should not indulge in this kind of feelings, especially not in public! A twinge of pain shook her body as she was taking the next speed bump. This was the real reason she was clenching tight! Her bad conscience relaxed. She was desperate to pee: there was nothing unseemly about that, as long as she didn’t show it. She really needed to take a piss soon! The pressure in her bladder was reaching critical levels, constantly bringing her to the verge of wetting her panties as she drove along. She tried to hold her muscles contracted as long as possible before she relaxed them for a short break. But she couldn’t help it: every time she did this, she remembered the lust this had created earlier and she felt her body shudder with pain and pleasure alike.It didn’t take long, and these feelings had taken control of her inexperienced mind again. She forgot about her desperation, and as she was driving past a discount store she decided to stop and see if they had any interesting offers. It was Thursday and they had just got this week’s delivery of specials, so there was a chance for real bargains. Pushing the cart through the door she was greeted by the chill of air–conditioning. She felt how she got goose bumps, how her nipples firmed up and pushed against the fabric, drawing a boy’s eyes on her well rounded large breasts as he was leaving the store.Now the full blast of the AC–outlet hit her and her bladder contracted. She was taken by surprise and almost lost control. She shouldn’t have stopped! Clenching her pelvic muscles as tight as she could she stemmed the flow starting to emerge from her urethra. There was no escape now: she had to follow the flow of customers, people pushing behind her to enter the store. In the twinkling of an eye, she found herself inside the store ‘ there would be no way out but past the shelves and through the checkouts. Should she just do the tour and leave as quickly as possible? She turned round to check the situation. From the corner of her eye, she saw the boy still standing in front of the shop. Was he looking at her? She wasn’t sure ‘ somehow she felt so vulnerable by her need to pee and her poking nipples visible to everyone, she had the impression everyone was starring at her. Surely, the boy was just reading next week’s offers hanging in the window! A sudden urge made her bend over to avoid an accident. Her bladder was really filled to the brim with fresh urine! She couldn’t remember when she had been this desperate in public before. How could this have happened?‘Don’t give yourself away!’ an inner voice admonished her, as she was holding herself.She took her hands off her crotch and bent down further. She pretended to fiddle with her shoe laces, using her crossed thighs to press against her vulva. As she straightened up again, she caught the boys look again. Was he blushing as he quickly turned away? She remembered how her d’collet’ must have been exposed as she had bent down. She blushed, too: so the boy had really watched her? Had he noticed her distress? Or had he been gazing at her for a different reason?Suddenly, the meaning of the thought of a young schoolboy watching her came to her. Was he sexually interested in her? Had he been starring at her breasts? This couldn’t be, she thought. She was probably twenty years older than he! But still, somehow, the thought turned her on. Her mind was too prepared for this kind of thoughts after the experiments she had performed with her pelvic muscles. It felt good to be someone’s sexual fantasy, she realized. Was it just imagination? Probably, she was just misinterpreting the situation! How could she be so focused on sexuality at the moment? This wasn’t her! She was confused about herself. Probing, she glanced back ‘the boy was still standing at the window, closer now, definitely starring into the shop. A hot wave shook her body ‘ yes, he was starring at her. She had never felt so sexy and desirable before.The pressure on her bladder had not ceased; and now a violent spasm brought her back to reality. She had to find a bathroom soon! She turned towards the aisle and directed her cart to the area with the temporary offers. Sure enough, there was a small TV on sale. It was a real bargain. Her niece would be visiting in two months’ time ‘ she might as well get the TV for the guestroom now. She couldn’t offer a room without a decent TV to her niece, she thought.Approaching the checkout area she heard an announcement: ‘Dear customers. We are sorry to inform you about a breakdown of our register scanning system. Our staff will have to enter the codes of the products manually for the next half hour. We can only open half the checkouts at a time to fix the hardware. Please excuse the inconvenience caused!‘It didn’t mean much to her until she realized she was last in a line of five customers with fully loaded carts. It took the cashier seemingly forever typing all the bar code numbers by hand as in the meantime she felt her desperation grow to almost unbearable levels.She tried to focus on something else. But always her bladder managed to present its message in the forefront of her mind. The pleasant tingling was long gone, being replaced by a rather disagreeable twinge. She really needed to pee! She was desperate for a piss now ‘ she realized she would not last much longer and started to look for a customer’s toilet. She could stare as much as she would; there was none to be found. These small discount shops were not obliged to provide public facilities and their low cost concept didn’t allow them to do it out of altruistic reasons.Anxiously, she clung to her cart and watched the queue in front of her. It didn’t seem to move at all. A spasm pushed her urethra forward, only at the last moment she managed to clench it shut and avoid an accident. She felt the urge to touch herself, to put a hand in her crotch to force her bladder to contain its load of urine. The people in front of her moved a bit ‘ the first customer had paid. Taking small steps, progressing as slowly as possible, she tried to prolong the time of distraction to forget about her humiliating need to pee. The next customer’s shopping had been processed quicker and she found herself progressing another meter or two.The draught of an AC–outlet blew past her now. The chill increased the pressure on her bladder, she felt the urge to just let go and wet her panties. It would feel wonderful to just let go ‘ like in the cold sea, when you went swimming and released your urine to warm the spot around you. She blushed at the thought. You weren’t supposed to urinate into the sea, either! She held on. She had to hold on; she was not going to humiliate herself in public, wetting herself. No, she was going to hold on, however desperate she might be. It was her own fault, after all! Never should she have got herself in this situation ‘ was it the arousal she had felt earlier that let her forget to go to the toilet at the supermarket? She felt her nipples stiffen, her breasts gently pulling up, as her skin formed goose bumps once again. She focused her concentration on these reactions of her body to the draught, trying to get her mind off the desperate need to empty her bladder, the urge to release the urine flood that was hiding inside her.It helped ‘ she was entirely focused on her shivering body now, felt her nipples rubbing the fabric of her bra, felt her dress softly caressing her skin. How long ago was it, since her husband had touched her like this? It seemed like an eternity since they had had intensive sex. Suddenly, she remembered how that schoolboy of maybe eighteen years had watched her as she entered the store. She imagined how he would be standing outside now, looking straight at her through the window and seeing her nipples erect in the cold. Would he know it wasn’t only the cold that was keeping them erect now? She felt a wave of pleasure shake her body as she remembered his stare. His desire for her turned her on, made her aware of her stunningly well formed, large natural breasts, of her wide hips, how her light summer dress pronounced her hourglass figure. Warmth spread through her body, heat emanating from her vulva. She didn’t sense the cold draught anymore, she didn’t feel the desperation ‘ it was just a pleasurable tingle, an excited horniness, a lustful desire that filled her now. She started to train her vulvar muscles again, to concentrate on the arousal the minute movements of her labia, her clitoris, of all parts of her vulva caused in combination with the fantasy of being desired by a young boy. How innocent had she been at his age, how easily had she been attracted by a smart guy!Finally, she had paid the TV and loaded it into her car. As she sat on the driver’s seat, she felt wetness in her panties. She was shocked: Had she unconsciously lost control? Where did the wetness come from? Was she peeing herself? Had it been the spasm when she had entered the store? Immediately, the need to pee took control of her mind again. She had to fight hard not to lose control. A hand in her crotch, she was pressing against her vulva now to ease the pain of her full bladder. She felt urine pushing into her urethra and firmly clenched all muscles to keep it inside. She got nervous. She must not wet the car! What would her family say! But she couldn’t pee anywhere near where she was, either. She had never liked peeing anywhere but into a toilet and here she was in the middle of the town in early afternoon. There was no way she could find a place to release her urine in a decent way which she would reach faster than home. She just had to pull herself together and master her body’s needs for a couple more minutes. But this wetness in her panties was distracting her. She just had to make sure she had not really peed herself already!Glancing around, she made sure no–one was taking attention of her sitting in the car. Then she pulled up her dress and carefully touched her panties. Yes, they were moist! It came to her like a shock, even if she had felt it all along. She pulled her dress up further ‘ she had to take a look. This couldn’t be true! Little was she aware that she already knew perfectly what had happened and that unconsciously she was seeking for an excuse to truly examine the situation. She opened her legs as far as possible in the limited space of the driver’s seat. Then she bent forward to look at her now uncovered white panties. Yes, they showed a small wet stain. Hesitatingly, she touched the panties with her hand, slightly rubbing up and down her slit. ‘Feels good!’ ‘ this thought briefly shot into her conscience and vanished again. Still, she didn’t know the damage fully, yet. She would have to put her hand into her panties, she reasoned. Her dress was now pulled up to her bellybutton and tentatively, she put her hand into the seam of her panties. A quick glance outside: no–one was looking. She pulled down her panties a bit and lowered her hand into them further. Yes, her slit was definitely wet, she found as she gently rubbed along it. She probed a bit further. Where did the wetness come from? Was it pee? Her finger found its way into her vagina. It was wet ‘ a slimy kind of wetness, she found. A sudden insight came to her: it was cum, she was wet with sexual arousal, and she was masturbating in public! It had nothing to do with pee, after all.Hastily, she withdrew her hand and put her dress back in place. She was shocked at her own daringness. She wasn’t even used to masturbating at home, and sex had always been more of a means to please her husband than to create wonderful feelings for herself. And now she was caught in a spiral of arousal and craving for more she had not experienced in her life before. She was confused, as she started the car and pulled out of the parking. Her mind was spinning, she couldn’t hold on to any single thought. On the way home, she briefly had the impression to see the boy who had looked at her at the store ‘ she was hallucinating in the middle of the day!The confusion which had overcome her held on as she pulled into her property. She had forgotten her bladder again and decided to unload the car immediately ‘ the frozen stuff had already been in the trunk for too long. And oddly, she didn’t once think about her predicament at the store nor her current need to pee. She was so occupied with her task ‘ her mind still swirling with newfound, unaccounted for feelings ‘ that she felt quite okay until she had finished unloading. She had just parked the car in the garage when her neighbor appeared at the fence and called her. Inwardly cursing, she turned towards her ‘ one had to maintain good neighborhood relations after all.Walking to the fence, she felt with anxiety how her bladder cramped and called for immediate release. So close to her toilet and still being denied relief was absolute torture to her. But she had always been proud about her strong bladder and she would never have admitted to anyone how badly she had to go to the bathroom. So she put on a smile and started a chat with her neighbor, unconsciously hopping from one leg to the other, bending over every once in a while and vividly showcasing her desperation in her facial expression. Whilst she was convinced to appear rather inconspicuous, it was clear for any casual onlooker to see that she was desperate to pee.This went on for a long time, and the stronger her signs of desperation grew, the more she became aware of it. Only politeness kept her at the fence, hoping for her neighbor to let her go. How could she be so rude to ignore her desperation and just keep chatting? She couldn’t be blind to the obvious desperation, she thought, blushing at the humiliation she was going through. Courtesy would require her neighbor to end the chat and let her go! But it was not until her neighbor’s phone rang that she would ‘ apparently reluctantly ‘ say goodbye.First PartI was just walking home from school, when the following story developed in my mind. You need to know that it was quite a long way home and quite lonesome in its second half ‘ time enough to make up an exciting story. For the avoidance of doubt: I was old enough to be legally entitled to this kind of fantasies’Walking a street of small semi detached houses ‘ almost deserted at this time of day ‘ I had just pulled out some sweets from my pocket when suddenly I heard someone shouting: ‘Hey you!‘I turned my head.‘Yes, you!‘I saw a lady in her late thirties standing at the door of the house I had just passed. Her look told me that she was talking to me ‘ so I turned round and asked: ‘Yes, Ma’am?’‘Come here for a second, please!‘The ‘Please’ was barely audible. She sounded rather commanding ‘ it was more like an order. At the same time she was walking towards the fence. She wore a slightly more than knee long summer dress with a large flowery print pattern as you wore them in those days. It was a light type of fabric adapted to the nice weather. Instinctively, I walked towards her.She seemed intimidating to me, a head taller than me and definitely very well rounded. Her appearance made me feel weak and helpless in a certain way. She had large breasts which definitely caught my attention and her hips left room for fantasies. Her waist was well defined, giving her a very female appearance. Despite my awe, I felt attracted to this voluptuous body. My desire of her body and the obvious inaccessibility of it made her appear even more powerful and aloof to me.‘Did you lose anything?’ she asked in an almost friendly voice.I was startled. I had not expected such a kind voice ‘ it made me feel closer to her than I had felt I could be. I looked around but couldn’t find anything.Only now I realized it was the lady I had watched in the store. Already then she had seemed like a passing dream to me. Had she noticed me there? I had tried to behave inconspicuously and diverted my stare when she turned round towards me. What did she want from me? Why was she stopping me in the road and talking to me? Was she angry at me? Had she found my look obtrusive? Had I misbehaved by starring at her? I blushed at the thought that she might have noticed my interest in her body ‘ my upbringing did not allow me to openly desire woman like that, it was considered to be rude. I felt bad conscience take control of me.‘Look here!’ she said less friendly, pointing at the edge of her hedge, two meters in front of us.I was disappointed. Her chilling voice and her posture destroyed all my hope. I had definitely lost her sympathy!‘You’d better pick that up and throw it in the bin!‘My look followed her pointing gesture: A used paper tissue and a sweet wrapper were lying there. I must have lost the wrapper when pulling out the sweets as I passed the house. I blushed even more. I felt caught. Normally, I didn’t throw away my garbage like that ‘ and as it had happened accidentally, I had been seen and was being told off. Told off by a woman I had seen before, I had watched so closely and imagined so vividly during the last half hour that I felt I knew her. Now she was standing in front of me like a punishing nemesis. What an embarrassing situation!Hesitantly, I walked towards the candy wrapper and bent down to pick it up. The lady came closer and bent over. She was so close to me, I could feel her breath on my neck: ‘Take this, too, and follow me!’ she ordered, pointing at the tissue.Fantasies started spinning in my head. I was not used to standing this close to a woman! A woman I desired! Barely able to concentrate, I did as I had been told. Was she aware that the tissue was not mine? Did she make me take it as an additional punishment? I felt so humbled! As she had indicated, I followed her to the front door. She stepped to the side and ushered me in, bending over a bit. I felt uncomfortable, standing in a stranger’s entrance hall, having been caught in a naughty act, awaiting retribution. My secret longing did not make things better. The psychological gap between my object of desire and me was growing as I had proven unworthy of her. On the other hand, I was excited to be close to this overwhelming lady, her dominant air impressed me and made her body even more desirable. And only the chastisement I was going through brought her body so close to me, so I was happy to accept the punishment.I didn’t know the lady but from the discount store. I had neither seen her before, nor after. I didn’t know what had happened in the last half hour since I had seen her for the first time. I didn’t know she had been standing at her fence, chatting with her neighbor. I had no idea of the prior events: How, when she came home from the supermarket, she was desperate to have a pee, how she had been holding on all the way through the shop, hurrying from aisle to aisle at speed. She had almost lost control when she had learned that half the checkouts were closed due to hardware update and the queues seemed endless to her. Reaching the car, she had sighed in anticipation of getting home quick and running to the bathroom first of all. The pressure on her bladder had eased a bit as she sat down and her mental confusing from the emotions she had gone through occupied her mind as she rolled towards home. Arriving home, instead of rushing to the toilet, she had decided to unpack the car first. To her dismal, her neighbor had seen her as she was done unloading and had parked the car ‘ and called her for a chat. Her bladder had hurt; the pressure had been getting unsupportable. But she couldn’t refuse to answer and so they had spent at least the last quarter of an hour conversing about latest neighborhood gossip.Nor did I know her secret discoveries during the shopping trip, the craving slowly taking hold of her unconscious mind, the desires she wasn’t even fully aware of herself. I did not know how her desperation had grown steadily as she was forced to chat with her neighbor; and how in the end she had kept hopping from one leg to the other ‘ and how still her neighbor wouldn’t cease talking. How she had wondered if her neighbor would never notice her predicament and let her go. How to her relief, finally the neighbor’s phone rang and they said goodbye.She had been running to her front door when she saw me drop my wrapper.Completely desperate and almost wetting her panties, she had considered to ignore me and dash for the loo. But she remembered how she had discussed the problem of littering with her neighbor and cursed: she had to deal with me first ‘ her neighbor would have seen everything from her window and reproach her if she didn’t act.A convulsion let her bladder contract. She bent over and fought the spasm, successfully. Her sphincter was still holding tight, she silently rejoiced. But immediately the pain from her overstretched bladder took control of her brain again. She had not recognized me yet, too strong was her desperation. She needed to get over with this quick! In no mood to argue, she summoned me to her and had me pick up the refuse. She was not going to touch it! Too late she realized that now I was standing in her entrance hall waiting to be shown to the bins. The proximity of the toilet almost made her lose control. It was torment she went through. Again a delay ‘ she cursed inaudibly and, bending over, briefly put one hand in her crotch to ease the pain. Together with exasperation, irate rage took hold of her. It all was this little brat’s fault!She showed me into her kitchen and opened a cabinet under the sink, drawing out the waste bins. I did not hesitate and got rid of the rubbish in my hand.‘Not like that, little lad!’ the lady scolded, stepping closer. ‘Can’t you see there are several compartments for different kinds of refuse?‘She was standing behind me, and as she now bent over to show me the different recycling compartments, I was forced to bend down until my nose almost hit the bins if I wanted to avoid getting in her way, infuriating her even more. I could feel the fabric of her dress brush my neck as she pointed her finger at the bin destined for non–recyclables where I had disposed of my litter. My heart started to throb harder.Towering over me, her breasts almost touched my back. Somewhere in the back of her head, memories of the scene at the discount market flashed through her mind, mixing her desperation with the pleasure of being desired. Some part of her deplored that I had bent down so far, not allowing her breasts to touch my back. But the excitement of exerting power and enforcing her will added a thrilling third dimension to her adversary emotions of desperation and wrath on one hand and a craving lust on the other hand. Yet underneath the piercing pain of her overstretched bladder, none of these emotions was able to work its way to her consciousness.‘Take the candy wrapper and put it in the plastic bin!’ she ordered, indicating with her hand ‘ as suddenly something fell into the bin. ‘Damn you, now my earring fell into the bin, too. You’d better get that out quickly!’ she cursed. She had unwittingly been playing with it to distract herself from the immeasurable pain and desperate need to pee.Her need had grown insurmountable by now. She felt her bladder twinge. A short spurt pressed through her urethra, pushing past her clenched sphincter muscles. She felt warm wetness between her labia. She had started to wet herself! Yes, she felt how the pee soaked into her panties.She was angry at her neighbor, at herself and of course at me. Why did this have to take so long? She could have been at the toilet twenty minutes ago. Her anger at me rose. Why did this pupil litter in her front yard? Even now it would have been time for her to reach the toilet in time. Why was he too stupid to use the right bins? Was he actually mocking her? She felt a strange desire to punish me for everything she felt at the moment as her emotions unconsciously mixed. If only this lad could feel her pain, she thought! If only he would undergo the embarrassment and humiliation she experienced as she was starting to wet herself again! Yes, she felt another drop of urine escape her bladder, followed by another and again another.I was so intimidated; I didn’t even consider objecting to her order. I felt her anger. A strange mixture of excitement and fear made my heart race. I wanted to please her, to calm her down. And still I wanted to feel her anger, hoping for her to get close to me again, to feel the warmth emanating from her voluptuous body. I was aware that only her anger brought her this close to me, that otherwise she would have been unattainable for me.Taking off my backpack and kneeling in front of the bins drawer was done in the twinkling of an eye. I searched the bins to first place the candy wrapper in the right container and then look out for the lost earring. My vision was blurred by commotion. What did the earring look like? What was I actually looking for? My mind reeled, I couldn’t concentrate.A brush of fabric let me look up ‘ the lady’s dress had briefly swished past my head as she was positioning herself at the right corner of the bins. Thus, she could see what I was doing from an angle. She pulled up the front of her dress to avoid it touched the bins. From my vantage point, I realized, I could see her panties if I looked up at her. Enough light passed through the thin fabric of her dress to clearly show her white cotton panties. I was so eagerly starring at them; I didn’t realize the lady was looking right in my face. Instead, I tried to figure out if the darker spot between her legs was due to a shadow or if her pubic hair was shining through. Or was it a wet spot?Her anger was growing as she saw how I starred at her crotch. Couldn’t that boy get his work done and go? Did he have to interrupt his work to stare at her? Was he enjoying her desperation? Had he detected the wet spot? Was he even gloating at her humiliation? She got furious.Suddenly, she recognized me: It was the boy from the discount shop! A wave of unwarranted pleasure shot through her veins ‘ yes, he definitely desired her. This was why he was starring at her crotch! At the same time she realized her vulnerability. He was starring at her panties as she was starting to wet herself, to humiliate herself ‘ not only in front of a stranger, no, in front of a boy who had watched her before. It infuriated her even more. Was he dawdling to enjoy her weakness? Was he making fun of her? No, she wouldn’t let him get the better of her! She would show him who’s the master. He would not get away with this! Again, a spasm made her cringe. She felt her body give in to nature’s call. She would soon be peeing all over the place, and it was this little brat’s fault!‘Have you found the earring yet?’ I heard her commanding voice, quiet but vibrating with ire.I gave a jerk and started to rummage through the rubbish again. But I couldn’t get her panties off my mind. As I was mindlessly rummaging in the bins, a shadow told me the lady was bending down towards me again. I didn’t realize she was fighting off another violent spasm of her bladder aching to release its content immediately. Why didn’t she say anything, I wondered, and as I looked up, she was standing straight again. Suddenly, she took a side step forwards with her right leg such that the corner of the bins–drawer was straddled by her. What was she up to? Why didn’t she comment on my work anymore as she had done before?I turned my head and to my delight I saw that she was gathering her dress higher. Enough so, that I got an unobstructed view at her panties from just half a meter’s distance. I completely forgot I had only wanted to check if she approved of my work. Instead, I starred at her crotch again. And yes, these panties had a wet spot; I could clearly see it now. Intrigued, I continued to stare. At the same instant, I realized the spot seemed to grow. What was going on? She couldn’t possibly be wetting herself? I was flabbergasted!The next seconds were some of the most exciting in my life. The lady pulled up the dress almost to her hips and bent her knees until I felt her left knee poking firmly into my right ribs. The wet spot in her panties had become quite large by now and a few drops of pee were running down her inner thigh. A few seconds later, she had secured her dress in one hand and moved her other hand to pull her panties aside. I shall never forget how I looked in awe at her black pubic hair, splitting in the middle between her legs ‘ my first ever glance at a woman’s inner labia.Probably less than a second later, a strong gush of pee started to spray from her vulva, her stream slightly arching forward. I didn’t realize it hit the bins only a few centimeters from my face as she was forcefully emptying her bladder: I was so immersed in what I saw, starring at her crotch.It must have been true desperation that made her do it. Had she just arrived at home and been on her direct way to the toilet when she saw me littering her front yard, I wondered? I had not understood her frequently bending over as a sign of desperation ‘ she had disguised it as gestures to point out the litter and later the bins to me. But now it dawned on me that these might have been signs of desperation. As I had taken off my backpack to be able to search the bins for the wrapper and earring, she had taken a few steps away from me ‘ had she intended to go to the toilet then? Apparently, she had decided it was not safe to have a strange teenager in her kitchen without supervision. At least, she had returned to watch me, fighting her desperation in vain. Had I felt humiliated until this moment, I sympathetically felt how humiliated she must be feeling now, peeing herself in front of me. I felt sorry for her and somehow I was ashamed of my arousal as I watched her. At the same time, the dominating distance shrank and I felt closer to her than ever before.As soon as she felt she wasn’t going to make it, she had positioned herself over the bins and pulled up her dress. She didn’t care now what I would think. There was no time for worries. Just in time she managed to pull her panties aside before the full gush of her urine started. She was pissing all over the place. What a mess it would have been, had she not reacted so quickly! It would have soaked into her panties and then found its way through the fabrics’ meshes, she imagined. The pee would have run down her legs, pushed up her bottom, ran into her shoes, and splashed all over the floor, springing from her panties as from a sieve.She felt alleviation as the pressure on her bladder eased. She did not mind now how she was spraying the garbage bins with her pee, how she was exposing herself in front of me; she just enjoyed the feeling of easing desperation and regaining control of her body. Oddly enough, she felt somehow dominant and in control as she saw her urine shooting out of her crotch in a neatly bundled stream of clear golden fluid, slightly changing direction as her hips moved a bit. Fascinated, she watched its origin. She didn’t look where it ended, just how it sprang from her crotch and formed a nice arch, obediently following each of her movements. It was freely flowing from her urethra since by pulling her panties aside she had unintentionally parted her inner labia a bit. She was thrilled in a strange way. She had never done anything like this before and somehow the feelings of the day whirled through her mind as she felt the pain go away. Pleasure, excitement, shame, domination and control formed a potpourri of emotions, swirling together, mixing and fading away as quickly as they appeared.Her stream was diminishing as her bladder pressure decreased and she started to think again. She looked down at the damage she had done and saw me kneeling in front of her, starring at her crotch, oblivious to the world around me. My arms which I had kept on the bins were sprinkled with her pee, and my t–shirt was not exactly dry anymore. Strangely, she wasn’t shocked or embarrassed as she would have expected. Instead she felt satisfaction that her ordeal was over and that she had made me feel the consequences of my laggard execution of her orders. Apparently, she thought, her mind had gone to lengths to make her humiliation feel as an act of controlled and justified punishment for me.As the last drops were leaving her crotch and dripping onto the bins, I saw her pubic hair wet with stray pee drops. I did not want to take my eyes off until I had to. I had never seen a vulva before and I wanted to savor every moment. I winced as she suddenly started to move. I felt caught. I didn’t want her to know that I had spied on her when instead I should have been looking for her lost earring. I blushed. And I diverted my gaze to concentrate on my task again.The rubbish was drenched with pee now and I had to dig through it to find the small earring that might have slid right to the bottom. Surprised, I realized I didn’t really care about the pee ‘ it was so closely related to the memory of her pussy that I actually felt some kind of arousal as I was picking through the refuse, the bitter–sweet odor of her fresh pee filling the air around me. What would have happened if I had carried on searching whilst the lady was peeing all over the place? I felt a strange tingle in my nerves as I imagined how her pee would have gone all over my arms. It might even have hit my head, as I would have been bending over the bins, I wondered. Would she really have peed on me? Would she even have noticed? What would she have done if she had noticed? I would never know’Remembering these seconds of pleasure, when I saw her vulva gushing jets of warm golden pee towards me, my mind was spinning in fantasies. This fluid had directly come out of this lady’s wonderful pussy, I remembered, wild fantasies evolving in my mind. It did not even take half a minute until I could no longer concentrate on my task. Instead, I looked up to see if I could steal another glance. I couldn’t resist the temptation. And I was lucky’The lady had watched me as she was finishing her pee. She saw how I starred at her in disbelief and astonishment, how I blushed as I felt caught. Again, she felt strangely elated as she saw my blush ‘ wasn’t it showing how I secretly desired her? But no, this must be a mirage of her duping fantasy. Her mind was aching to find a way to get out of the embarrassing situation. How could she avoid being the humiliated one? She could not risk losing her commanding position relative to me; she had to keep in control. She had seen how I blushed and then started to dig into the bins ‘ and she wondered what was going on in my mind. She saw the refuse was drenched in her pee and how I had to pick through it. This appeared strangely satisfying to her, it made her feel in charge and control. With her pee she had made his task even more humiliating to him, augmenting the punishment for his misbehavior, she thought. Or was that boy tricking her? Maybe he would even suddenly ran away, she wondered? She moved closer to avoid my immediate escape, still holding her dress up to keep it clean. Now, she had one leg behind my back, a little towards the left side, and the other leg was right next to me on the right.Therefore, as I lifted my head to try my luck on another glance at her vulva, I almost banged it into her crotch: she was this close. I just had to turn my head to the right and I got a close–up view of her wet pubic hair. This was my lucky day! I made out her inner labia hidden behind a curtain of black curly hair, dripping wet with pee. Her fleshy labia shone in a beautiful tone of red, still slightly parted. At this moment, I didn’t care for anything but to keep looking. I would have loved to touch, but with my hands soiled in the bins below this was definitely impossible.Meanwhile, she was coming to a conclusion how to proceed: ‘I am very angry at you!’ she scolded. ‘If you had not thrown your litter in my front yard, this mess would not have happened. Instead, I would have gone to the toilet straight away as I intended before you interrupted me with your outrageous behavior. I hope you are aware that this is all your fault and responsibility!‘As I didn’t know what to reply, I remained silent.‘You’d better take of your wet t–shirt now and clean this mess!’ she ordered, angry at herself for getting into this situation. She felt she had to dominate me to control the situation.To get out of my t–shirt, I had to bend forward again, pulling it from behind and over my head. Holding it in my hands, I sat there, not knowing how to continue.Meanwhile, she had gotten over her initial shock and began to find the situation rather arousing. There was this longing stare, the shy blushing, the desire radiating from my face as well as the submissiveness and begging for mercy of me kneeling in front of her. It turned her on to be the object of my devotion. She had never before in her life been in a position where she dominated other people and this situation was strangely elating to her.She had been watching for a while. As she saw the t–shirt was quite clean and dry and how I sat there almost underneath her, looking up (into her crotch rather than her face), she had an idea: ‘What are you starring at, huh?’ she blustered. ‘Take your shirt and wipe my legs dry first of all!‘I blushed at the notion that I had been caught gazing at her again. But then her second sentence was absolutely to my taste: I would have to look at her when I was drying her legs, wouldn’t I? I took the t–shirt, made sure my peed on hands were fully covered with it and used the dry parts of it to gently rub her legs from the knees upwards. When I got close to her crotch I hesitated. She hadn’t said anything about drying her pubic hair and I didn’t know how sensitive this area was. Would she want me to clean it, too? I got excited at the thought of it. Carefully, I moved closer and closer, touching her pubic hair ever so little as I was drying the upper inner side of her thighs.‘Pull down my panties so you can finish your work!’ she commanded. ‘But make sure they don’t touch my legs ‘ they are wet!‘So I dropped the t–shirt on my lap and carefully took hold of her panties, using one hand to take the wet crotch of the panties out of her hand to avoid it touching her thighs and pulling down the seam with the other hand. I didn’t care at all that I was touching her pee ‘ I was so aroused by seeing her crotch and being actually allowed to look at it that nothing else mattered. She had stepped back a bit and closed her legs slightly so I could move her wet panties all the way down. After she had stepped out of them she said: ‘Now, take your shirt and dry my crotch. But be careful!‘My heart was throbbing in my mouth. I was so exhilarated. I chose another clean spot on the shirt and carefully dabbed the topmost part of her thighs, moving on to dry her wet pubic hair almost one by one, making sure not to touch her labia. I just didn’t dare to touch them, I didn’t know how she would react and I definitely wanted to make this moment last as long as possible. As I was doing this, I didn’t notice that I was leaning against the wet bins, soiling my pants. My concentration was focused totally at diligently drying her pubic hair. My body was pulsing in excitement.‘Use this to gently clean my labia now.’ She said, handing me a fresh tissue.This was even better, I thought! I put down the shirt and very cautiously dabbed her inner labia, making sure to soak every remaining drop of pee into the tissue. Believe me, it took a long time!Unfortunately, everything ends and I had to realize that there simply was no more pee visible on her pussy. And I would not have dared to spread her labia and search the inside. So I finally stopped dabbing around and she reacted by saying: ‘Very good! Now find my earring and clean the bins.‘Her dress fell down to her knees again as she released her hold and stood next to me, watching. I dived back into the garbage and only after rummaging for quite a while I found the earring at the bottom of the paper recycling container. It was lying in a centimeter deep puddle of pee. I fished it out and handed it to her after dabbing it with my t–shirt.Whilst she was washing her earring, I did not know how to clean the bins, so I took my already partly wet t–shirt and swiped the pee off their outsides and upper borders of each bin just to be doing something.Together, we carried the refuse outdoors where I had to empty it into the main bins using my hands to separate the clean recyclables from the drenched remainder. Then, we hosed the bins down in the garden and again I had to dry them with my t–shirt.As everything was done, only my clothes remained soiled. The lady (I still didn’t know her name and she probably did not intend to tell me) made me undress and put my clothes into the washer. It was an embarrassing situation, being naked in front of a lady for more than an hour, waiting for the washing/drying cycle to finish. And she didn’t do anything to ease my situation ‘ instead she had me stand in the room whilst she sat on a chair, watching me. Somehow, I had the impression, she enjoyed it. Did she take it as compensation for her humiliation before? At least she didn’t do anything to ease my discomfort. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice how excited I had been? I didn’t find out’Walking home, I dreamt on about this wonderful experience and wondered if she had noticed that I actually had liked it.
By: Alpian