FART FANTASY

Monday, March 3, 2025

Under Arrest by AmericanWonton

 

 

 

 

 

 


I wanted the flashing lights to be a figure of my imagination. No such luck, as the quick siren blips came from behind. “Fucking...no! No!” I took a deep breath and slowly brought the car to a halt. It was only a matter of time now...slow, anxious time as the officer slowly got out of the car.

Her car, that is, owned by a female cop. And what a female she was! It almost felt cruel, watching her robust black hips sway in the bland khakis, while her breasts bounced in the boring tan work shirt. I rolled down the window at her finger’s request. “How are you doing tonight, sir?” she asked. I gulped...she even sounded gorgeous. I looked into her ebony face and tried to force a smile as genuine as hers. “G-good, ma'am. Was I speeding?” The officer shook her head, swaying smooth, short black hair. “There’s a tail light out on your right side,” she noted. “License and registration please.” So I handed her the license...and begun to shake as she waited for the registration on the car. “Officer...I...I don’t…” “Call me Jenette,” she said, flashing another smile, one hand on her hip. I geuss she didn’t expect trouble, seeing as her fingers were gentle and away from her firearm. “I don’t have registration,” I told her. “This...this is my uncle’s car. He said I could borrow it and if I was careful, ya know? Just until I can get my car out of the pound.” Her lips were now pursed in confusion...those bright red lips of beauty and fierceness. “P-please I just...I can’t afford a ticket,” I blurted out. “I already have three strikes and the state says that I can’t...I don’t…”. She leaned into the driver side window and said it ever so politely. “Sir, please step out of the car.”

I put up no fuss as she lightly pressed my head against the hood of the car. I lay still as the handcuffs were clicked onto my forearms. The tears, however...those couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry,” I heard myself say. “P-please...please...don’t ticket me, I, I…”. “Follow me Mr. Nedders,” she told me, guiding me along the highway road to her car. “Can I call you Ben? It’s probably Benny though, right?” I was crying too much and my lips were too shaky to form a response.

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Officer Jennette had me at her police cruiser, driver side. I suppose it was a little strange she stopped to open her driver door first. “So, no ticket tonight, is that right Benny?” she asked me. “You’re gunna get that taillight fixed?” It came from nowhere and I’d be a fool to say no to that offer. So I said yes, about a hundred times per second, nodding at light speed...she laughed so I geuss I still ended up looking like a pathetic fool. “Squeeze down below, face up on the seat,” she said with a smile. I stood at her car door, still looking the part of the fool. She repeated herself, while guiding me inside. “Watch your head, hon. Put it here. There ya go.”

And so there I was, staring up into her ceiling. The cop car looked normal, smelled like new leather. Save for, that is, a numerous pile of fast food wrappers strewn across the floorboards and passenger seat. “What...what am I supposed to do-” I stopped myself, staring up into her powerful legs swinging inside. At a moment’s notice, I watched the seat of her pants swell above me in a magnificent width. In another second, her ass was molding itself around my face. “Ahhhhh,” she sighed, closing the car door and turning the keys to her engine. I couldn’ think...either from the shock of the scene or the full weight of her booty on my skull. Some words came tumbling out my mouth around her asscrack...I think it was a question. BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRTTTOOOOOTTTTTTTTTT! The vibration hit my lips with a rugged tone, rippling onto my face for a full five seconds. The officer sighed, wriggling her butt as I gasped. “The game is simple here, hon,” she spoke. “Keep quiet and sniff.” PPPPPPRRRRBBBLLLRRRROOOORRTTTT! Another rancid ripper...this time bringing the full smell of both farts to reach my skull.

Dear god...I tasted everything. The mountains of fries and burgers, topped off with shakes and soda. My head spun into another universe as she shifted to pick up the receiver on a chirping radio. “10-4 on Highway 32. All clear. Heading back for closing,” said Officer Jeanette. I heard the radio snapped back into place. She rose and I saw her face peering down to smile at me. “Ready to ride?” She asked sweetly. I looked at the darkness of her skin, molding beautifully with the darkness of the outside sky. “I can always give you that ticket…”. I gulped, meeting her eyes again...stupidly, my brain nodded in response. She chuckled and I gasped as Officer Jeanette begun to unbuckle her pants.

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The heat was insufferable...the weight was unbearable...and the smell was...undeniable. However, I had to sacrifice and make them all so...tolerable.

BBBBTTRRRRROOOOORRTTTTTT! FRRRRRPPPBBBAAUUUUTTTTTTT! PPPLLLTTTOOOORRTTTTTTTT! Her ass was from another world. The regurgitated food spewing from her bowels became a biological weapon onto my face. PPLLLLLTTRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT! FFFFBBBBRRRMMPPLLLBBABBTTT! Through agonizingly bumpy rodes I moaned as her booty farted and bounced. Jeanette chuckled as I spewed more complaints in jumped words. “How you doin’ down there, hon?” I moaned up in response-she’d lifted her booty, just a few inches to happily smirk at me. “Gunna have to ask you for a few licks,” she continued. “Been having a little trouble just gettin’ off to the cuter ones like you.” BBBTRRROOIIIIIOPPLLLLRRTTTTT! She laughed as I winced, watching her tight brown anus pucker out an acidic smelling ripper. “You ever eat ass before?” She asked, stroking my chin. I noticed the other hand was diving into her pussy, creating a very unprofessional driving stance. “No...no.” I mumbled out. She laughed again, resting her ass back on my face. “Think of it as snacking on whatever I ate,” she went on. “Just small licks of french fries...and curly fries...those fun little square burgers.” BBBTTUULRRLLPAAAOOOOTTTTTT! A wet fart pursed her asshole onto my teeth. “Don’t wear yourself out too quickly, is what I’m saying! Haha.” BBBRALLLAAUUGGHHBBBRRTTUPPTTT!

I groaned as wet, sloppy farts pounded my tounge. I heard her fingers go to work and I tried my best to wag my tounge as best I could. Hopefully, she would finish and let me go. PPPRRRROOOOTTTTTTBBRTTT! FFRRBBBBAAOOOORRRAATTT! Or, I could black out and become less of a target.

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My head was spinning as I awoke to the silence of her car. Silence...and the lingering smell of her ass. I managed to scrape myself up, still handcuffed, my head still pounding. Perhaps this was just a bad dream and I’d blacked out from nervousness when I got pulled over. No. Outside, the car was parked beside a building, reading, “Jared County Municipality”. Officer Jeanette was returning, sexily walking back, even winking into the car window. I found myself crying once more as she opened the car door.

“P-please...d-don’t turn me in! Officer Jeanette, you...you promised! You…”. She was laughing above me, beginning to slowly unbuckle her pants again. “Calm down, hon,” she spoke. “Just turning in for the night. You and I have some off-duty booty work to get to.” Her finger playfully jabbed back at the stink ridden seat. I gulped, slowly returning to the warmth her booty had left. She returned to her seat of human flesh, bouncing her ass a little harder than when we’d first met. “Ahhhh. And now that I’m off duty...that’s Mistress Jeanette to you, fartboy.” PPPPTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT! I gagged as she wriggled her coffee laden fart and booty around my face. “Can you say it for me?” I managed to inhale enough breath to take her orders. “Yes...Mistress Jeanette.” She sighed, stroking my neck between her thighs. “Good boy.” BBBBLLLFFFFRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!
I formed a headspace...a state of mind, if you will...just to survive underneath her. PPPRROOMMPPRRBT! FFLLTTIIRRTT! The farts were a little less lengthy. Still smelly, but with less of a punch. We drove in silence for a good few minutes. Mistress Jeanette farted...I sniffed. She hummed to the radio, even bouncing her booty gently to the beat. BRRIIPPTRRLLTT! “Whoops! Sorry hon, that wasn't for you...unless you’re into that kinda thing, huh?” She rose and I only gained clarity upon staring into her magnificent asscrack. Her bootyhole perked open with a harsh color of brown...edging out slowly forth. “I...no… please, I…”. The Mistress laughed and I heaved a sigh of relief as her feces slowly disappeared from which it came. “Calm down sweetie. You’re ticketed for a broken taillight, nothing serious. You got a body I don’t know about? Any weapons in the car?” BBBRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! She laughed again as I cowered beneath her, the turd resurfacing only to clench back inside. Jeanette sat on my face for another five minutes and I feared every press on her butthole.

The car stopped and the door opened. “Scuze’ me,” the mistress spoke, turning her ass to one side to sit on my face. I heard a fierce grunt and the muscles on her ass tightened around my cheeks. PPPLLLLRRROOOTTTOOOTTTT! BBRRUUUAAOLLPPPRRUUTTTT! “Ohhhhh! Hoohh yes...yes.” I shivered, listening to her butthole work above me. The plops on the pavement were loud and solid...like a large animal shitting just above me. PPPRRRTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTT! BBBRRRUUUUOOLLLFFFMMMBBPPTTT! After a minute of shitting came airier, boisterous toots...as if it were the last call for her dump. BBBRRRIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! A slimy fart came with a deep sigh of relief. I gagged, catching a whiff of her creation as she shifted her booty up to close the door. “You hungry?” I was still shivering as she hovered above, smiling down at me. “I...no, no thank you.” The Mistress giggled, pinching my cheek. “I’m offering actual food here hon’. Well, as ‘actual’ as Taco Bell can be.” I shook my head again. She gave a toothy grin. “Suit yourself.” She let her ass fall onto my face. I kept my breaths short as her uncleaned butthole pursed along my nostrils.

“Yes, can I get two number three’s and...is your shake machine working? Okay. Then just a Sprite, thank you.” I felt a pat on my chest as she murmured softly to me. “I’m always five minutes late at these places, I swear.” Then, back to the machine. “Yes okay. Thank you.” I heard the car hum along the drive-thru as Mistress Jeanette searched for her wallet. “Here’s the deal, fartboy,” she spoke, rolling up the window. “You sleep with me tonight. No holding back, all hands on deck...or noses, anyway.” PPPRRRLLLLLTTTTTTRRRTTTTT! She giggled, rising only to pinch my nose and soak me in her fart as she sat back down. “If I get a good night’s sleep, I’ll drive you back to your car. No ticket. If I don’t...well, we can always take the LONG way back to the police station. Sound fair?” PPRRROOMMMBBLLLRRTTT! BBRRTTUUUOOOORRUUUTTTTT! After the two farts, she rose, smiling into my eyes. Through the hazy fart vision, I could just make out her hand extended to me. “I can’t…” I told her. “The...the cuffs.” Officer Jeanette laughed. “That’s right! Forgot about those. Eh, I think I like them on anyway.” She pinched my cheek and begun to rest her ass along my face again. “Now...I think that YOU have the right to remain silent...ahhh...while I pay.” I sobbed, feeling the warmth of her SBD pour along my face. I seriously considered losing my license for all eternity as it soaked into my brain.

 

Friday, December 20, 2024

The Wereskunk by Iloveskyrim1

 


Cindy wasn't like most girls in her school, though she seemed like one on the surface, she had a decent social life, dreams of getting into a good college, and even got her a boyfriend, but what none of her friends know is that she has a big secret.

Cindy is something called a wereskunk, it's like a werewolf in that it's a human who is cursed to transform into a beast and that it's it's spread from a bite, scratch, or blood to blood contact. However unlike werewolves they do not transform under a full moon and do not maul people like a wild animal, instead they transform every single night and gas people, usually the opposite sex, and wereskunks have an unimaginable amount of gas and it smells worse than anything known to man, and what's worse is that wereskunk gas has a chemical in it that prevents people from passing out from the smell or even lack of oxygen, basically if a wereskunk ever catches you then you're screwed until dawn.

Cindy got the curse when she was 13. She got bit by a stranger while she was walking home from school and the following night she transformed. Her big sister's boyfriend Carl happened to be there and she gasses him all night, Carl still can't get the smell out of his nose. Luckily before the next night, Cindy was given a charm necklace that suppressed her curse so long as she wears it but with a major side effect, the longer the skunk is suppressed the more it'll desire to gas a victim and the worse the smell will be if she ever loses it and transforms again. For 5 years she's always wore the necklace, only taking it off to shower which she did immediately after she got home from school, and she hasn't transformed once.

Jake, Cindy's boyfriend, wanted to take her on a camping trip for the weekend and her parents let her go, so Cindy had a few things packed, especially her favorite canned food, jalapeno refried beans.

Jake and Cindy arrived at the campsite and got out of the car. "Babe, it's just you, me, and the great outdoors." Jake said. "I can't believe how beautiful it is out here." Cindy stated. "Not as beautiful as you." Jake replied. Cindy blushed, "Oh stop." Jake kissed Cindy on the neck. "Let's get camp going, it's almost dark." Jake said. Cindy was reminded about her medallion and reached for her necklace to kiss it like people would do their saint medallions and was in shock and horror at her discovery.

"Jake, have you seen my necklace?" Cindy asked. "Uh no, but come on we'll worry about that later, I wanna get camp set up before dark." Jake answered. "I think setting up camp can wait." Cindy said as she ran to Jake's car to search for her necklace. "Cindy are you okay? You don't seem like yourself." Jake said. "Well I'm gonna be even less like myself if I don't find my necklace." Cindy replied.

Cindy looked everywhere for it, under the seats, in her bags, in Jake's bags, in the glove box, she couldn't find it anywhere.

"Cindy what has gotten into you?" Jake asked. "I can't find my necklace. Where's my necklace? I can't find it." Cindy answered. "Sweetie it's a necklace, I'll buy you a new one." Jake replied. "You can't just buy a new one it's was made to... it was specially made." Cindy said. "I'll still buy you a new one, you're my girlfriend and I..." Jake said before he was interrupted. "I need it now, bad things can happen if I don't find it." Cindy said. Jake was beginning to think his girlfriend was a complete psycho.

Cindy began heaving and sweating like a big, she slid down the down until she was sitting down and began crying. Jake approached her and try to comfort her with a hug.

"Jake, I need you to do something." Cindy said. "What... yeah anything. What is it?" Jake replied. "I need you get back in your car and drive back home." Cindy said. "Not without you." Jake said. "Yes without me." Cindy responded. "What am I supposed to tell your parents and your sister?" Jake asked. "Tell them I lost the necklace." Cindy answered. Jake was absolutely confused, not only was his girlfriend having an anxiety attack over a necklace but she was asking him to drive home and leave her here, he wasn't sure if she was beginning to suffer from schizophrenia or on her most extreme period.

Cindy began to feel the change starting and got up and ran. "Cindy where you going." Jake asked. "Jake please, just do what I asked." Cindy begged. "Cindy this isn't funny come on." Jake said. A cracking sound came from Cindy's back followed by a sharp pain that caused her to fall to the ground. "CINDY!" Jake yelled as he ran towards her, "Cindy are you okay." Jake said before turning her over and saw something that horrified him.

Cindy's face had changed, it was covered in black fur, her eyes were bright yellow, and a snout was beginning to grow.

"I told you to drive away." Cindy said. "Cindy, what's happening to you?" Jake scaredly asked. "I'm sorry Jake." Cindy said before screaming in pain as her transformation was finalizing.

Jake ran as fast as her could, he was scared for his life, he was so scared he didn't think of getting in the car and driving away. He was running and running and running but he wasn't fast enough to outrun what was once his girlfriend.

Cindy tackled Jake and held his arms down. "So you're the boyfriend huh? I gotta say she has good taste in men." Cindy said. "Cindy, please don't do this." Jake pleaded. "Your girlfriend isn't here right now. Can I take a message? Gosh, you humans are so dumb, it's kinda cute." Cindy said. "What are you gonna do to me?" Jake asked. "I'm gonna have some fun." Cindy answered.

Cindy grabbed the sides of Jake's head and proceeded to make out with him. Jake tried with all his might to get her mouth away from his but he was too weak. Cindy then let out a massive burp in his mouth that made his head spin. Cindy finally let go.

"Ah, that was amazing, you're a good kisser." Cindy said. "Please, let me go, I'll do anything." Jake begged. "Ah ah ah." Cindy said as she tapped Jake's nose, "You're not going anywhere until I'm done. This could be my last night on Earth, I wanna enjoy this."

Cindy wrapped her tail around Jake's neck. "Hope you're ready for what's about to come, after being trapped for 5 years it can get a little stanky." Cindy said as she stood up. "Oh god what are you going to do to me?" Jake asked. "You'll find out in 3... 2... 1..." Cindy said she her pulled Jake's face in her ass. Jake was in hell, Cindy's ass smelled far worse than anything he had ever smelled in his life, it was like if every foul smell got together to create the ultimate foul smell multiplied by a dozen, but of course it was about to get allot lot worse. "Your nose feels so goot against my sphincter." Cindy said.

Cindy let out a large fart that sounded like a tuba filled with with milk. Jake let out a muffled scream and Cindy proceeded to laugh at his misery as she unleashed even more large farts that sounded the same but amplified. It sounded absolutely disgusting and horrid but smelled a million times worse, if the smell of her fartless butt was roses her farts would be... well... her fartless butt.

Cindy grabbed Jake by the legs and lifted them up to her shoulders. "I'm gonna talk a stroll, you just stay there and enjoy yourself." Cindy said.

Cindy walked around the area, still blasting Jake with her gas, for god knows how long before coming to a halt. "My legs are getting tired, time for me to sit down and rest." Cindy said before taking a seat on a rock with her tail acting a cushion for Jake's head. Jake wasn't sure if he was lucky her tail was keeping his head from getting crushed like a watermelon or unlucky as his head getting crushed like a watermelon would end his nightmare. While his head cushioned it didn't the fact that the pressure on his head pushed his nose further into Cindy's sphincter, causing the smell to become worse and his nose to become her butt plug. Cindy added to this fact by letting out a 30 second fart that sounded like a trumpet.

Cindy continued to sit on the rock for several hours before she noticed that dawn was approaching. "Well Jakey pooh, we got about another hour left, let's get back to the car and I'll give you a proper good bye." Cindy said before getting and walking back to Jake's car.

Cindy arrived at Jake's car and then let him out of her tail lock. "Let me give you one last kiss goodbye." Cindy said as she grabbed Jake by the sides of his head and pulled him up into making out with her. Cindy kept the lip lock going for about 15 minutes, letting out disgusting burps every few seconds, until dawn set in and Cindy reverted back to being a human.

"Oh my god, Jake." Cindy spouted, "Jake are you okay." "Uuuhhhh, Cindy? Cindy is that you?" Jake asked. "Yes it's me sweetie. Oh, Jake I'm so sorry, that's why I needed to find my necklace, it's the only thing keeping me from turning me into that monster." Cindy said. Jake slid down into a sitting position, "Well that makes sense." "I'm gonna drive us home." Cindy said. "What about you?" Jake asked. "My parents have a cellar for the purpose of keeping me in if I lose my necklace." Cindy answered.

Cindy pulled Jake up and carried him to the passenger seat on his car. "Hold on, let me go get dressed and get my torn clothes." Cindy said. Cindy grabbed a pair of clothes from one of her bags and got dressed. She then proceeded to grab her torn clothes. As she was walking to the car she noticed something fall out of the pocket of her torn jeans. She became relieved when she saw what it was and walked back to the car.

"Babe you look relieved. What happened." Jake asked. Cindy then showed Jake her necklace, "It was in my back pocket the whole time." Cindy proceeded to chuckle a bit while Jake tilted his head back in utter defeat.

Sunday, November 24, 2024

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

Monday, August 12, 2024

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

 

Sunday, April 28, 2024

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.

Saturday, April 20, 2024

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!

Sunday, March 17, 2024

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