What A Relief

especially ones who have to act put-together to fit a specific image. it would be soooo embarrassing if others figured out that this cool, collected individual can’t hold their piss for a few hours; or if they can, they’re an absolute wreck.

they don’t show it. they can’t afford to put their persona to the side, so they’re stuck suffering through it all without being able to openly express it. if you pay closer attention, of course, you can see the slight tremble in their thighs, the sweat starting to form on their forehead, and the way their steps are faltering just slightly.

and if they were to have an accident? it would absolutely wreck their pride. they’d have to keep up this act like it’s not bothersome, they can handle anything! they don’t need help! they’re fine! obviously, it’s not a big deal.

(it most definitely is.)

You are at Omo Inc. and you have to piss so fucking bad you want to cry.

Naturally your bridesmaids have either left or gotten too drunk to undo a shoelace, let alone the piles of flouncy knots and bows that are currently constricting your torso. You need your fellow newlywed's help and you need it fast. The decorative fountain you also paid too much for bubbles and hisses in the corner. You should have said something, but they looked so happy chatting and waltzing and knocking back almost as much champagne as you were stupid enough to sip alongside them. You didn't have the heart to interrupt and pull them away from the festivities. Especially for such a trivial matter as emptying your bladder. Only right now it isn't trivial. It's more like an enormous hot thudding sphere of trapped piss begging with all it's might to escape and run down your legs, soaking your pretty lingerie. You don't even know how it got this bad this fast. Then you cringe internally, remembering all the cold water you chugged in the dressing room to keep from fainting, since you were so overwhelmed by both the nerves and the heat of the spring. Perhaps it's not such a mystery.

You wriggle and shift in your seat, smile-grimacing as more champagne trickles into your guest's glasses. Your partner is looking at you with concern now. You give their hand a second, more forceful squeeze. The shoe drops as they glance down at your bridal train tangled up in your tightly crossed legs.

They gracefully excuse the pair of you and you weave through the dancing couples, their hand guiding yours. God, it's taking every bit of effort in you just to hold on tight long enough to reach the bathroom, and to not leave any droplets on the tiles. You pray to whoever's listening that the stalls aren't occupied. They can't be occupied. It's your wedding day.

You can't help childishly elongating the end of that last word, extra undignified when combined with your public potty-dancing. You also can't help but scream-whisper at your partner, who has been scurrying around the edges of the ballroom with you hoping to find a clear courtyard, a hidden parlour, anything that will do the job. You suppose this isn't a very good start to your wedded bliss. At the same time you feel very, very lucky to have them.

"Quickly. Please" you manage to choke out.

You're not above begging now as the corset digging into your organs feels like it's fit to snap a string or two with how much your bladder has expanded over the course of the evening.

Avery couldn’t believe this was happening. 

Delilah started her day as usual, three cups of coffee. She started early, earlier then she would like and even though this is routine for her, she has to make frequent trips to the lady’s room throughout the day. But her boss was cool with that, her workplace flexible.

Only the bathroom on her floor of the building was closed, plumbing issues. Fine, she would take the elevator down to the fourth floor and use the one there. It wasn’t a nice, but whatever.

That Friday, however, a deadline was fast approaching. She could only afford to take her bathroom break during her lunch, as it was so far away. She had an energy drink with her sandwich, already exhausted and desperate to get her work done. She shivered in the break room, she was wearing a short skirt. One that wasn’t exactly business casual, but it wasn’t inappropriate. Flexible work place, flexible wardrobe. Still, the temperature had dropped randomly that day, fall coming early, and the shivering only sloshed around what was in her bladder.

Her legs were cold all day, her small cardigan did nothing to warm her. By five, she was bursting to pee. She wasn’t sure she’d make it to the fourth floor bathroom. Of course, though, she did. She’s an adult, twenty-nine last Tuesday. She doesn’t have accidents no matter how close she calls it.

The thing about the fourth floor bathroom was, though, that there was a line. Apparently, all the girls on her floor, as well as others, similarly could not go all day. It was a single, no stalls. There were at least ten girls in the line and whoever was in there wasn’t coming out any time soon. After five minutes of waiting, Delilah decided to try the first floor.

Closed, also for maintenance. Whatever was going on on her floor had spread downward, it seemed. And she would paying for it. She looked at the man waiting for the elevator and contemplated heading back up for the line. Her bladder didn’t seem that bad. She was standing in the lobby of her office, she wasn’t dancing around or touching herself. Sure, her legs were together but it was cold.

So, home.

Only two minutes into the bus ride, the driver slammed the break, sending her careening into the seat in front of her. Her bladder spasmed, and she felt a possible leak right there on the edge. Delilah put her purse on her lap and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. The bus was too full for her to touch. She settled for praying.

Delilah’s skirt swished around her thighs as she hurried into her building. She smiled at her doorman and tried not to look too panicked as she made for the elevator. The doors were beginning to close.

“Hold the elevator!” She called. Someone’s arm shoved between the closing doors, she slid in. Thank god, nine floors to go and she would have her own toilet.

There was just a woman in the elevator, someone Delilah had never seen before. The building had ten floors, dozens of units. She didn’t know most people.

“Floor?” The woman asked, she had a British accent, which, if she wasn’t so desperate, Delilah would find sexy. The button for the seventh floor was already pressed.

“Ninth.” The woman smiled at her and pressed the button.

Delilah settled against the wall, the other passenger was texting. She watched the numbers change, one, two, three. The elevator was always fast. Her bladder was warning her constantly. She closed her eyes, imagining her relief. It would be a close call, but she’d make it.

The elevator lurched to the side, then stopped. The lights flickered.

Delilah opened her eyes to see the numbers stopped between five and six.

“No,” Delilah said, almost laughing. Why was the world so insistent on her suffering today?

“Fuck,” the other woman said, hitting the emergency button.

Delilah shifted in place, her thighs pressed together. If she wasn’t on a toilet in two minutes, she was going to piss herself.

“Hello?” The doorman said through the intercom.

“Hello? We’re stuck in the lift between five and six.”

“How many of you?”

“Myself and…what’s your name?”

“Delilah,” Delilah said, managing to sound normal. Although she felt flushed.

“Delilah.”

“The fire department has been contacted, hold tight.”

No no no no no.

Delilah twisted her legs together, unable to be calm anymore. She didn’t have that long. No, two minutes was an exaggeration, but it was probably under ten. Could she get out in under ten? She’s never been stuck in an elevator before.

“Just what I need,” the woman said, locking her phone and sliding it into her purse. She crossed her arms and glared at the numbers.

“Fuck,” she swore under her breath, another wave of desperation rolling over her. She felt tears prick at her eyes. Why? Why today? Why is this happening?

Her legs were twisted a very obvious way, thigh over thigh, slightly bent. Her short skirt was working overtime. When the woman looked over, it was quite clear what was happening.

“Oh fuck, tell me you aren’t going to pee yourself.”

Delilah had no response to that. She grabbed the rail and twisted away from her, not wanting to see disgust on her face. That woman was gorgeous, a little older than Delilah. Sexy in a “my boss” way, which was exactly Delilah’s type. This day was just getting worse and worse. She should have waited in the line at the office.

The woman pressed herself against the wall, far from Delilah. She was looking her direction, but Delilah was not looking back.

She pressed the button again.

“Hello? It’s been five minutes!”

“Yes, the fire department is arriving now!”

Oh god, the doorman was always so nice, would he know? Of course he would know! Everyone would know!

“Just, hold it.”

“I am!” Delilah hissed, hands fisted in her shirt.

“With your hands if you need to! Do something!”

Delilah looked at her, shame filling her up. Delilah did as she was told, sliding her hands from their sweaty grip on her clothes to her pussy, clothed by pantyhose and panties, she still felt very close to herself, it felt obscene.

“Think of deserts,” the woman said.

“Fuck off.”

“Well, I’m just trying to help.”

“Its not helping,” because now Delilah was thinking of waterfalls. She whined. She was about to leak, or hell, maybe it would all come out, she didn’t know. Any leak, big or small, would be obvious in here. The smell alone…

“Hello!” A voice came through the intercom. Delilah jumped, she felt her panties dampen. She pressed a hand over her mouth, shoving her left hand harder into her pussy. It was just a leak, she wasn’t having an accident. But now that she started, she was throbbing.

“Gonna be a little while, ladies, hold tight!” Someone said.

“How long?”

“Not sure yet, twenty minutes, maybe.”

“Do you have twenty minutes?” The woman asked, somehow unaware that she’d already peed a bit.

Delilah’s hand over her mouth prevented a sob, she shook her head. She was a mess, crying, pissing. She was going to have to move out. She was going to have to find a new neighborhood after this.

“Okay, I’m sorry I was rude. Please, please try.”

“Im trying,” Delilah said, removing her shaking hand from her mouth and putting it back in its place over the other, pressing as hard as her arms would allows. She bounced in place lightly, trying hard not to rock the elevator. If she wasn’t so embarrassed, she might be afraid of dying. She wasn’t, though.

“How long have you lived here?” The woman asked, “sorry, I’m Joan. We haven’t met.”

She was trying to distract Delilah. It was admirable.

“Two years,” she replied, god, she’d have to break her lease out of shame.

“Same. Haven’t seen you, though. I would’ve remembered.”

Fuck.

“Same,” Delilah said, sniffling. The other woman smiled.

She was distracted so distracted, more slipped through. Not just a tiny leak, though, all of it.

“Dont look! Don’t look, please don’t look!” She cried, Joan averted her eyes, but did not turn around.

In an attempt to save her expensive skirt, she held it up above her hips daintily as she peed herself. She felt every inch of her panties soak up the liquid, the rest ran in streams down her legs and into her heels, as well as the floor.

Her bladder was shrinking in real time and she couldn’t not help the shaky breath that she released as it all poured out of her. Here she was, almost thirty years old, wetting herself.

“Fuck,” she cried when the relief was over. She was still going, still, somehow. Joan had quit looking away after about thirty seconds. Instead, she stared openly, eyes trained on Delilah’s underwear. There was nothing Delilah could do about this.

When it was over, the puddle took over the entire corner, it rapidly encroached on Joan’s territory.

Joan pressed the intercom button as Delilah looked down in shame.

“We’ve had an accident in here,” she said. And Delilah knew she would never live this down.

He’d been holding for so long, and he ached, with no relief in sight. His hands squeezed tighter at his crotch, as if they weren’t already doing all they could.

More kept leaking out, second by second. He could feel the wetness against his fingers, and whimpered as another pulse spread the damp patch.

“No, no.”

It did no good. For the first time he understood what it meant for a body to be at its limit.

He could feel it, a split second before it happened, and sucked in a breath- But it was too late. Piss shot out from his dick with so much force that he could feel the impact of the stream against his jeans. He moaned aloud, he couldn’t stop himself, more from the helplessness of the situation than any relief. He was pissing so hard that it seemed to draw all the strength from the rest of his body, his shoulders slumping and his knees going weak.

Still his hands kept their grip, fighting the absolutely futile fight.

After several seconds of pissing like a firehose, finally the relief kicked in. He had just enough presence of mind to lean against the wall to keep himself upright, and then his body gave in to the pleasure of letting out all he’d been holding in for far far longer than either he or it had wanted. He was wet and humiliated and still pissing, but it felt so good that he couldn’t do anything but let his head fall back and eyes flutter shut.

And then that passed too, and he was aware of the deafening hiss of his urine hitting the floor, the size of the puddle spreading beneath his feet, the fact that he wasn’t alone in this hallway and never had been… and he was still going, his bladder stretched beyond capacity and determined to expel every last drop.

He whimpered, again, trying to stop. It was kind of pointless by now, but at least he could say he’d regained control of his body. Except he couldn’t, his muscles weren’t even responding to him at this point. Piss gushed out of him for several more seconds - and then more when he tried to straighten up - and finally he was left panting and shaking like he’d run for miles.

“See ya”. As I carry my guitar out of the school’s recording studio, saying bye to my bandmates, I can’t help but give a sigh of relief. I’d needed to pee quite badly before we went in there 3 hours ago, but because of our tight schedule, I didn’t have time to seek the relief I so desperately craved. We’ve been working hard to record a new song, and throughout the session I could feel my bladder getting fuller and fuller. All I could do was sit and wait, and hope that we would be finishing soon. By the time we were ready to pack up, I was crossing my legs and squeezing my cock when I thought nobody was looking. God, I have to pee so bad. Looking at my watch, I walk across the school yard. It’s 6.30pm. I haven’t emptied my bladder since around 8.00am… 10 and a half hours ago. Damn, no wonder I have to go so desperately. It’s been a hot school day, and I’ve drunk both the 500ml bottles of water I brought with me. I’ve been bursting to pee at school before, but not like this. My school uniform is uncomfortable, my dark blue polo shirt clinging to my shoulders and my black trousers stretched tightly across my bladder, which by now is rock hard. Quickening my pace, I grit my teeth and open the door that leads into the main school building. The boy’s toilets are three paces away, two paces, one pace. I push on the door. It doesn’t budge. I try again, pushing harder, but the door stays firmly shut. It’s locked. ‘Shit’ I mutter, grabbing my dick. Relief had seemed so close, and my urgent need has risen to an almost unbearable level. I look up and down the corridor, but nobody’s around. All I can do is hope that the toilets near the gymnasium are still open. I bend over and cross my legs, zipping up my fly which I had ripped open in urgent anticipation. Almost jogging now, I head across to the sports building, and notice lights on in the dance studio. Glancing through the window, I see my form (homeroom) tutor inside. I have to admit it, Miss Daniels is gorgeous. She’s in her late 20s, but looks much younger, with blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She’s short, smaller than me, and being a dance teacher has a wonderful figure. She’s wearing a tight pink t-shirt and black tracksuit pants with a pink stripe down the side. I briefly wonder what she’s doing here so late, but I suppose she’s just finished teaching after school dance classes or something. I bite my lip and clench my muscles tightly as I hurry past. I’m incredibly desperate to pee, and relief is just seconds away. Shaking with agony, I burst through the doors into the sports building, throw my guitar case down, and tear open my fly. I don’t care who sees me, all I want to do is pee, there and then. I smash into the toilet door, and gasp in alarm. Not only is the door locked, there’s a piece of paper taped just above the handle, with the words ‘Out of order until further notice’ handwritten on. ‘Ohh fuck’ I moan softly, gripping my dick tightly through my boxers. I hold myself for a few seconds more, bent over slightly at the waist. I swear under my breath in frustration as I eventually force myself to let go, and zip up my fly. Of course, the last thing I want to do is zip my cock back into my trousers, all I want to do is get to a toilet and relieve my aching bladder. The thought of the stream of pee that would erupt from my straining cock puts me into new throes of desperation and urgency. My bladder is screaming for relief. I lean back against the locked toilet door, crossing my legs as tightly as I can, moaning with frustration. I try to think rationally about my predicament. I’m in desperate need to urinate, yet all the bathrooms in the school are currently locked, or out of use. There’s no way I can walk all the way home without losing control, especially as I have my guitar to carry. I can’t just pee outside, as there are cctv cameras all over the place, and besides, there’s not really anywhere discreet enough. Suddenly, I remember Miss Daniels, in the dance studio down the corridor. I know that teachers aren’t supposed to unlock bathrooms for students, but they all had keys in case of emergencies. I’m just gonna have to ask her, and hope that she takes pity on me once she realised just how badly I have to go. I wrench myself away from the toilet door, and hurry down the corridor, stopping outside the dance studio. My face is already flushing with embarrassment at the thought of what I’m about to do. I’m incredibly shy about letting people know that I have to pee, especially my teachers. I see Miss Daniels every day, which just makes it more embarrassing. As I stand, hesitating, outside the dance studio doors, another wave of desperation washed over my entire body, much more powerful than before. I gasp and bite my lip, bending almost double, squeezing my dick hard with both hands. ‘Shit’ I mutter under my breath. I’d almost lost it. I’m not gonna be able to hold on much longer. I force myself to stand up as straight as I can, gritting my teeth as my bladder protests. I give myself one last quick squeeze, before turning the handle and opening the door to the dance studio, stepping through, and letting it close behind me with a click. Miss Daniels is standing at the whiteboard on the far wall, writing notes for the next day’s classes. As the door closes behind me, she turns around, a look of surprise on her face. ‘Oh hi there, what are you doing here so late?’ she asks, resting one hand on the wall behind her, crossing her legs casually. ‘Um… hi Miss…’ I begin, blushing as I walk across the studio towards her. I stop a few paces away from her, clasping my hands tightly in front of my crotch. I long to hold myself again. ‘I’ve just been in the recording studio, and, um, well… the boy’s toilets in the main school are locked, and the ones down the corridor are out of order, and er… I really need to go.’ I laugh sheepishly and bite my lip. ‘Do you have like, a key or something? I’m really sorry to bother you’. I’m stumbling over my words, but I can’t help it. I’m dying to squirm around, or hold myself, but there’s no way I can behave like that in front of her. She smiles at me as I bend over ever so slightly, crossing my legs. ‘Actually I do have keys, but only for the girls’ toilets, not the boys’ she says sympathetically. ‘I’m really sorry.’ she adds, noticing the look of disappointment on my face. ‘I suppose you could…’ she trails off. ‘Use the girls’ toilets?’ I ask quickly, my voice tense. She nods. ‘I don’t see why not, there’s nobody around.’ ‘Yeah, thanks Miss.’ I stammer breathlessly, flashing a pained smile. She walks over to where the keys are hanging up on the wall, and picks them up. ‘I’m actually bursting for the loo as well, so I know how you feel’ she says casually, and I feel my dick stiffen. She jiggles up and down slightly as she finds the right key, smiling at me coyly. ‘Oh… right’ I stammer, my voice catching in my throat. I can’t believe my luck. I follow her as she starts walking towards the door, gripping my dick tightly while she has her back to me. She reaches the door, turns the handle, and pulls. The door stays shut. I stand slightly behind her, stepping quickly from foot to foot, hands on my hips impatiently. I don’t know how much longer I could wait, I’m bursting, my rock hard bladder squeezed tightly against the waistband of my school trousers. Miss Daniels pulls on the handle again, but the door still stays firmly shut. I hear her say ‘Oh’ quietly under her breath, and she crosses her legs tightly. She glances over her shoulder at me and I notice that she’s biting her lip. ‘It won’t open’ she says quietly. Oh God, another delay. ‘You have a go, you’re probably stronger than me’ she says, her voice tense. She steps aside, arms folded, and I walk up to the door, pulling and pushing with all my strength. ‘It’s stuck’ I mutter, glancing at Miss Daniels. ‘Oh God…’ she laughs nervously. Her legs are tightly crossed, and as our eyes met, she bobs up and down on the spot. The urgency in her eyes is clear to see. I turn my attention back to the door, realising that I can see the girls’ toilets through the narrow window. The bathroom door is just across the corridor, only yards away. Relief is tantalisingly close, and I groan in frustration, tugging violently on the handle. It stays firmly shut. I bite my lip, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet, before stamping my foot on the floor in frustration. It wasn’t fair, I just want to pee. ‘Well… looks like we’re locked in’ Miss Daniels says quietly… biting her lip. ‘Yeah, looks like it.’ I say softly, letting go of the door handle and crossing my legs tightly. I bounce up and down on the spot, hands resting on the front of my crotch. ‘Aw, you look really desperate’ Miss Daniels says sympathetically, watching me fidget about. ‘Yeah I am…‘ I say shyly ‘… I haven’t had chance to go since this morning.’ Her eyes widen. ‘God, you must be bursting. I’ve been dying to go for a wee all afternoon but I’ve been so busy with organising coursework and dance rehearsals, then teaching extra classes after school, I just didn’t have time. I was just about to rush off to the loo before you came in…’ she trails off, stepping forward and giving one last frustrated pull on the door. She moans in frustration. ‘I think the lock’s jammed closed, what great timing’ she says, looking flustered. ‘This isn’t the first time it’s happened either. I’ll call the office, they’ll send someone with a master key to come and unlock it, that’s what they did last time.’ She looks at her watch, looking worried. ‘I just hope there’s still someone there, they might have gone home by now’. Miss Daniels walks over the phone on the wall, picking it up and dialling in the office number. She crosses her legs tightly as she waits for someone to answer. I pace around awkwardly, squeezing my cock tightly, watching Miss Daniels in case she turns around and notices me. ‘Fuck I have to pee’ I think to myself as I bend over for a second, biting my lip. After a few seconds, she begins to speak into the phone, sounding a little annoyed. ‘Hi, it’s Emma in the dance studio, could you call me back as soon as you get this please, it’s a bit urgent. Thanks’. She puts the phone down and gives a little frustration sigh, bouncing up and down with her legs still crossed. She turns around and I quickly let go of my cock, crossing my legs as I lean back against the wall. ‘There’s nobody there, there’s an answerphone message saying they’re in a meeting which was supposed to end at half six. They should have finished by now’ she says quietly, looking at her watch again. I sigh in annoyance. ‘Ok, so we’ll just have to wait for them to call back?’ Miss Daniels nods. ‘Yeah, sorry. I feel really bad, you’re bursting for the loo and now you’re stuck in here’ she says sympathetically, noticing my frustration at being told I’ll have to wait even longer. ‘It’s OK Miss, it’s not your fault’ I say quietly, shifting my weight from foot to foot, hands resting on the front of my crotch. She smiles. ‘I just hope they hurry up, I REALLY need a wee as well’ she says, looking embarrassed. She bounces on the spot again before walking back over to the whiteboard to finish off her class notes. ‘Sit down if you like’ she says, gesturing over to a couple of chairs in the corner. I grit my teeth as I sit down, the waistband of my school trousers squeezing my bladder. I’m sat right on the edge of the seat, bouncing my knees like crazy, biting my lip as I wait anxiously for the phone to ring. I watch Miss Daniels writing on the board, and I notice her shifting her weight from foot to foot, biting her lip. She looks tense, and her cheeks are slightly flushed. I glance down and see a 2 litre bottle of water on the floor just beneath the whiteboard, and it’s nearly empty. She mentioned earlier that she’s been bursting all afternoon, so she probably hasn’t had chance to pee since lunchtime, maybe even morning breaktime at 11am since she was probably too busy organising coursework to find time to use the toilets at lunch. With all that water she’s been drinking, she’s probably way more desperate than she’s letting on.  

After a few minutes she finishes writing the notes, then checks her watch again. She looks at the phone and bites her lip. ‘Ohh why haven’t they called back yet?’ she mutters, walking over to the phone and redialling the office number, crossing her legs tightly. She hangs up after a few seconds. ‘They’re still in the meeting, ohh they should’ve finished ages ago’ she says, looking worried. I watch her uncross her legs, bounce on the spot and quickly cross them the other way, biting her lip. She looks absolutely frantic for a pee, but she obviously doesn’t want to make a show of it in front of a student. I’m also trying not to show how desperate for a pee I am, and I long to thrust my hands between my legs and squeeze my cock to distract myself from the throbbing pressure in my bladder. Instead, I have to make do with gripping my thighs tightly, crossing my ankles underneath the chair and bouncing my legs up and down. Miss Daniels moans softly under her breath, leaning back against the wall next to the phone, folding her arms across her chest. She crosses her legs again, resting one foot against the wall behind her. There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds, my chair squeaking as I fidget around. She breaks the silence by asking me about how things are going in the recording studio, and we chat for a few minutes about school, exams, anything we can think of to keep our minds off our urgent need to relieve ourselves. I’m explaining to her how far we’ve got recording one of our songs, but she’s not really listening, her expression slightly distant. I’m also having trouble concentrating on the conversation. My desperate need to pee is way too distracting, and watching my gorgeous teacher fidget and squirm, trying not to let on that she was about to wet herself, is taking up most of my attention. As soon as I finish speaking, she nods and flashes me a pained smile. ‘Sounds good. One sec, I’ve just remembered I need to look for something’ she says quickly, her voice tense, blushing as she hurries over to a small room in the corner of the studio where all the controls for the sound system are kept. Although the room is hidden from view from where I’m sitting, Miss Daniels seems to forget that the dance studio has huge mirrors down two of the walls. I wait for her to go out of my sight, then I stand up from my seat, biting my lip and bending forwards, hands wrapped around my cock. ‘Ohh, I have to pee so fucking bad’ I mutter, straightening up and walking slowly over to the door, looking out at the door to the girl’s toilets longingly.

I turn around, and I realise that from where I’m standing, I can see the room Miss Daniels is in, reflected in one of the mirrors. My cock throbs in arousal at what I see. She’s bent over, both hands pushing hard between her legs, pushed deep into the crotch of her tracksuit pants. Her eyes are closed, and she’s biting her lip, bouncing up and down on the spot. I knew it, she must be absolutely dying for a pee, and I wonder if she’s actually started to wet herself. As I watch her, she stands up straighter, and begins pacing the room, biting her nails on one hand, the other still pushed firmly between her legs. Every so often, she’ll stop to cross her legs, bending over and squeezing herself as hard as she can. I watch her as I squeeze my cock tightly, my heart pounding. I unzip the top of my school trousers to relieve some of the pressure on my rock hard bladder. I reach down and grip my cock through my boxers, frantically dancing from foot to foot. Although I’m incredibly turned on by watching Miss Daniels’ obvious desperation, I’m absolutely dying for a pee, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on for.

Just then, the phone rings, and she quickly straightens up and walks out of the room like nothing’s happened. I turn away, pretending to be trying to open the door, so she doesn’t notice I’ve been watching her. I quickly zip my fly up before she notices, biting my lip as my school trousers push against my aching bladder. ‘Hi, it’s Emma’ she says breathlessly as she picks up the phone. ‘Yeah, I’m in the dance studio but the lock on the door’s stuck, so I’m locked in.’ She dances from foot to foot as she listens for a few seconds. ‘Really? Ohh God you should have told me, I’ve been waiting forever for you to call back, and I’m bursting for the loo! No problem, ok, yeah I’ll find them, bye.’ She puts the phone down quickly and sighs loudly, walking quickly over to where she left her keys.

‘Are they sending someone over?’ I ask frantically. Miss Daniels shakes her head, picking up her keys. ‘Apparently after last time they gave me a copy of the master key just in case the lock ever got stuck again.’ She crosses her legs and bends forwards slightly as she looks through the numerous keys on her keyring. Her expression is tense, her face flushed with embarrassment, her movements frantic and fidgety. ‘I just wish they’d told me, then we wouldn’t have been stuck here bursting for a wee.’ She hurries over to where I’m standing by the door, still looking for the right key. She stamps her foot and bounces on the spot in frustration. ‘Ohh sorry I can’t even find it’ she moans softly, crossing her legs tightly. She tries a couple of keys in the lock, but neither of them fit. I stand behind her, wishing she’d hurry up and open the door. Just then, I lose control for a second, and gasp quietly as a hot spurt of pee soaks the front of my boxers. I quickly grip my cock and bend forwards, desperately trying not to lose control completely. The last thing I want to do is soak my trousers in front of my form tutor. I’m so close to wetting myself, but so close to getting to a toilet at long last. Finally, Miss Daniels finds the right key, and she unlocks the door, bouncing from foot to foot frantically, moaning softly under her breath. She opens the door and we hurry out into the quiet corridor. ‘I’ll let you go first’ she says quietly as she steps towards the door to the girls toilets. ‘Thanks Miss’ I say gratefully. She must be so desperate to get into the toilet and pee, but she obviously doesn’t want to let on how badly she needs to go in front of a student. I can’t help but see that her usually slim waistline is more rounded, her bladder noticeably swollen. It must be so hard for her, standing just outside the toilets, absolutely frantic to pee and longing to bend over and hold herself tightly, but knowing that she can’t do either while I’m standing just behind her. I bend forwards, frantically squeezing my cock while Miss Daniels spends a few precious seconds finding the key to get into the toilets. I start to blush as another warm jet of pee leaks out into my boxers. I moan softly, grabbing my cock with both hands, stamping my foot in frustration. I’m seconds away from wetting myself right there in front of my gorgeous teacher. At last, she finds the key and unlocks the toilet for me. ‘Don’t be too long, I really need to go’ she says shyly, looking up at me as I hurry past her, biting her lip. ‘Ok Miss, I’ll be quick’ I say quietly, pushing open the door to the toilets and rushing inside. As the door closes behind me, I feel another jet of pee soak into my boxers. I gasp and sprint into the nearest cubicle, tearing open my fly and pulling out my leaking cock even before I’m standing in front of a toilet. The second I reach the toilet, I let loose a gushing stream of pee into the bowl, moaning with the relief of finally getting to empty my rock hard bladder. I’m wetting and wetting, steadying myself with one hand on the wall, gasping with relief, relishing the feeling of letting go. After about 20 seconds, the door to the toilets suddenly slams open. Startled, I glance around, still wetting forcefully, and I see Miss Daniels hurrying inside. I was so desperate to relieve myself I hadn’t bothered to shut the cubicle door, and I blush harder as she glances at me, making eye contact for a second before she quickly looks away.

‘Oh god I’m so sorry, I really need a wee, I can’t wait’ she says, her voice strained. She bends over for a second and crosses her legs tightly, squeezing her crotch tightly with both hands, desperately holding on for just a few more seconds. ‘It’s ok’ I say, my face red with embarrassment, very aware of how loudly my pee is hitting the water. She moans softly, bouncing violently on the spot before straightening up and rushing into the far cubicle, banging the door shut behind her. Almost straight away, I hear her pee cascading into the bowl, and she utters a short moan of relief. Her stream is so loud and I can hear it over my own, she must have been right on the verge of wetting herself, unable to wait just a few more seconds for me to finish.

Eventually, my stream dies down, and I finish my very reliving pee with a sigh of relief. I zip myself up and flush, heading over to the sink to wash my hands, Miss Daniels still peeing noisily. By the time she’s finally relieved herself, I’ve dried my hands and am just about to leave. I hear the toilet flush, and she opens the door slowly, looking at me shyly, blushing even harder than I am. ‘I’m really sorry about that, I’d been holding on for so long, I just couldn’t wait any longer’ she says quietly as she washes her hands. ‘Don’t worry Miss, I won’t tell anybody’ I reply, and she laughs. ‘You better not’ she says, grinning at me. I walk out with a quick goodbye, pick up my guitar and head home, still buzzing with the feeling of relief, and the excitement of seeing my sexy teacher almost lose control in front of me. My boxers are damp against my cock, reminding me just how close I came to soaking my trousers in front of her.

               Why are these shifts so long?

           Jayce sat back in his seat and massaged his neck. He glanced at the clock.  Six hours left.  His eyes then went to the stack of medical files to his left he still had to finish reports on.  Here we go…

           He reached over and picked up his coffee.  

           “Jesus Jayce, you should just stick a caffeine drip in your arm at this point.”

           Jayce turned to see his coworker Abigail circling around him like a shark.  He rolled his eyes.  She hadn’t been more than three feet away from him his entire shift and it was starting to drive him insane.

           “Don’t you have something else to be doing Abigail?” he asked, pulling the top file from the stack of charts and flipping it open.

           “Nope, all my reports are done,” she chimed. She flirtatiously leaned against the counter next to him, releasing her ponytail from the elastic holding it together. “I could help you with yours if you like.”

           Jayce glanced up.  The way she was batting her eyelashes at him made him a little nauseous. “No thanks.”  He drained the rest of his coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trash next to her legs.  “I can handle this on my own.”

           Realizing that she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, Abigail flipped her hair and walked away.  “Suit yourself.  I’ll be the one going home on time.”

           Jayce rolled his eyes again and returned to the chart in his hands.  He had just six hours to chart every single case he’d seen that day.  If it wasn’t for the opportunity to scrub in on a rare surgery, he would have had these charts done hours ago.

           Not even an hour passed before Jayce started squirming in seat, just beginning to feel the effects of the coffee on his bladder.

           God, not now… I have to get these charts done…

           He ignored the twinges, continuing to scribble out every memory he had from each case.  As he closed each file and set it aside, the twinges got stronger and stronger, and before he knew it he couldn’t sit still.  His leg bounced under the desk and every so often he would shift his hips, trying to find some relief from the pressure in his lower belly.

           He glanced at the clock once again.  He had just four and a half hours to the end of his shift.  The stack of charts he still had left to finish was almost double the size of the ones he had done.  Sorry bladder, you have to wait…  

           Jayce shifted again and went back to scribbling away, only stopping after every chart to massage away the ache in his hand. Eventually, while his right hand was busy scribbling away, his left hand migrated into his lap, helping him hold back the six cups of coffee making their way to his bladder.  Just as he reached chart number twenty-nine, he started to relax a little.  He was close enough to being done to feel comfortable putting off a bathroom break just a little longer.

           “Jayce are you sure you don’t want my help?”

           The shrill voice shocked him, and he snatched his hand away from his lap, not wanting to get caught holding himself like a child.  The sudden movement along with Abigail’s voice shocked his bladder, causing his boxers to become slightly damp.  After squeezing his legs together as tight as he could, he looked up to the tall curvy blonde in front of him, who’d changed from the navy scrubs they were supposed to wear into a pair of jeans and a red sweater.  She flipped her blonde curls over her shoulder, batting her eyelashes and trying once again to get Jayce to accept her help, and an invitation into an on-call room.  As if the black wedding band on his finger didn’t give her a hint.

           “Abigail, I’m fine.  I only have two charts left, and an hour to do them,” he snapped, “So please, leave me alone.”  The fullness of his bladder along with exhaustion from working a thirty-six-hour shift was starting to take a toll on his patience.

           As soon as Abigail took off down the hallway, Jayce’s hand flew straight back to his crotch, squeezing and pressing down as hard as he could.  He was almost finished, and refused to even look away from the charts until they were finished.  The last thing he wanted to do was take a break and have to return to them later.

           His legs started to shake halfway through the final chart.  His handwriting had gotten worse and worse, but with every wave from his bladder, he drew a line down the page, and wondered how anyone else would be able to read it, but he didn’t care anymore.  He just wanted to get done so he could get to a bathroom, then home to his husband.

           It took everything Jayce had not to throw the final chart across the desk once he finished.  He quickly stood up, and every ounce of liquid he’d consumed over the last twelve hours rushed down to his bladder, and he had to stop, crossing his legs tightly and clenching his hand even tighter to keep his scrub pants dry.

           Pull yourself together Jayce…you’re a grown man, you can make it to a bathroom…

           Jayce prepared himself to remove his hand, knowing exactly what would happen when he did.  He reached for the office door and pulled it open, rushing out into the hallway and towards the bathroom.  Halfway down the hallway, he felt his boxers get a little damper, and knew he was about to lose it.

           God I’m not going to make it…

           He reached for the first door he approached, which thankfully led into an empty on-call room.  His hand went back between his legs, and he danced a little behind the closed door, fighting to gain composure to make it the rest of the way to the bathroom.  Just when he thought he could walk again, another wave struck, and he couldn’t fight it anymore. Despite his tightly crossed legs and clenched hand, when his bladder contracted, pee gushed between his fingers and splattered to the floor beneath him.

           Tears stung Jayce’s eyes as he moved his hand, leaning against the closed door of the on- call room while his bladder emptied. He sighed in relief as the pressure in his lower belly slowly diminished.  Once the splattering stopped, he opened his eyes to survey the damage, and wondered how he could possibly get to the locker room to shower and change without anyone noticing.  He pushed off the door, but just as he was about to turn and open it, the handle turned, and he heard that shrill voice again.

omorashi situtation where they take a job collecting maple sap in the woods. they get to stay in a cute cabin where they sleep by the fire. the only issue is there’s no plumbing.

it’s not a problem during the day, but it gets really cold at night - not to mention the dangerous animals that could be out there. if they forget to go before sundown, the only good option is using the chamber pot they keep under the bed.

they hold on tightly to the banister as they shakily attempt to descend the stairs.

why do they have to put the bathrooms all the way down here?

the lodge was nice and warm, but having to go down stairs in their clunky ski boots was not appreciated. especially with a bladder this full.

hot coffee for an early start, lots of adrenaline, long chilly lift rides…the whole day had been contributing to their need to pee which they could no longer ignore.

they tense up as the boots slip down the last two steps. managing to stay upright, they give a low groan while trying to stop the long leak that’s now escaping.

legs splayed, hobbling towards the bathroom, they just want to make it without having an accident.

they finally stumble into the bathroom and almost fall into an empty stall - but seeing the toilet does them in, and they can’t even get their jacket up over the top of their snowpants before they’re peeing full force.

moaning and panting, they look down at the small amount of piss that managed to escape their clothes onto the hard floor. there’s no stain

even though their accident isn’t visible, there’s a slight wet swish and they still get some strange looks as they waddle back out of the lodge.

(The descriptions still need work.)

She told me I’m too goody-goody in the bedroom. Most of the time she wants a gentleman but once in a blue moon she’s in the mood for something else.

“I want you to hurt and humiliate me and we’ll have fun!” were her exact words. She elaborated with a list of things like dog collars and horse whips but my fantasies were headed in a different direction.

I came up with a naughty plan but didn’t tell her the whole thing at once. I said we’d carry on like it was a normal day but she had to follow my rules. She didn’t know where things were going but she was ready to play along.

I told her to change into something nice with a short skirt and we’d go out.

“The first rule is you have to swallow anything I tell you to.” I demonstrated by taking out a juice box and inserting the straw between her shapely smiling lips. “You can nullify this and all other rules by telling me the safeword,” I added as she sucked on fruit juice.

She took the straw out of her mouth long enough to ask one question. “Do you pick it or do I?”

She choked with laughter when I said the safeword was “burst.”

We needed groceries so that was the first thing we did. I promised her things would get more interesting. She was perky and optimistic.

When we carried the bags to the car I made her stop to perform a favor. I took a water bottle out of the plastic and pointed it at her mouth.

“Swallow.”

She looked annoyed but unscrewed the cap and started drinking.

“Faster!” I said. I got a kick out of watching the muscles in her neck work as she glugged it down. When she finished she was struck with a look of embarrassment. Some people were staring at us.

“Another!” I commanded. I was gonna make sure more people stared. “Drink this one like you’re dying of thirst.” I took off the cap and physically stuck the neck of the bottle into her face. She drew back a bit then eagerly wrapped her lips around the plastic. She made exaggerated sounds of quenched thirst as she drank the water so quickly and sloppily that some of it ran down her neck and made her top wet.

“Good girl!” We continued to the van.

At home she started walking to the bathroom before the groceries were put away. I grabbed her wrist.

“Uh-uh-uh!” I scolded. “That’s the second rule. No going to the bathroom without asking me for permission.”

“Can I have permission?”

“Not yet.”

After we’d put away the groceries she asked again.

“No,” I answered again.

“How do I get permission?”

“You’ll find out.”

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss.

“Good girl! You can’t go to the bathroom though.”

Her enthusiasm was waning but she perked up again when I said we should go on a romantic picnic. She wasn’t hungry yet so I suggested we take a long walk to work up an appetite.

I used the bathroom before we left. She just stood outside the door with her arms crossed.

We selected a picnic site and packed everything up and took to the bike trail. I spotted the bathrooms before she did.

“I know what you want,” I said and I motioned to the silhouette of the woman in the dress.

“Yes I want it,” she said.

“Do you really need to?”

“I do.”

“Then you need to ask.”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“That’s poor grammar.”

“May I go to the bathroom?”

“Still not right.”

“May I please have permission to go to the bathroom?”

“No.” I had something else in mind. I took hold of her hand and led her to the drinking fountain. She started to struggle when she noticed where we were headed. “You have to swallow,” I reminded.

“Really?”

“That’s the rule. If you’re sick of funny rules you know what to say.”

“No I won’t use the safeword. I want to see how this plays out even if it’s no good.”

Once she relented I was able to bend her knees and press her head down to where her mouth could receive the stream of water. I turned the knob and made sure she got a nice long drink.

“People are looking,” she whispered accusingly when I released her. She used her wrist to wipe away the water that was running down her chin. “They think you’re hurting me or something.”

“Then explain it,” I whispered back. “Try to sound frisky.”

“Don’t mind us,” she said to the elderly couple who were walking by. “We’re just playing.”

“That was nice,” I said. “You got the flirtatious sound without laying the sexiness on too thick.”

“Now may I have permission?”

“Not yet.”

Before long we were at the picnic spot. We were both pretty hungry by then but she had a more urgent need. I could tell by the way she was skipping and hopping around as we set down the blanket and got the food ready.

“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll tell you later. Try not to ask so often.”

“It’s hard not to!”

“Don’t get testy.”

We sat on the blanket. She fidgeted a little but got comfortable and seemed to forget her need. We had a nice dinner and didn’t talk about bathrooms. I was sure to remind her before we packed up.

“Do you want more to drink?”

“No.”

“But you’ll drink it anyway. Watch while I pour.”

She snapped her legs together and shuddered as she watched the thin stream of yellow liquid slowly flow into the clear plastic cup.

“Those are such nice liquid sounds,” I teased. “Wouldn’t it be great to hear that happening under you while that shapely bottom of yours was perched on the comfortable horseshoe seat of a public toilet?”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked in a desperate tone. “I’ll do anything. Not literally anything but…” she trailed off as she shifted into a different sitting position.

“I won’t let you use the bathroom here but you may use the one at home.”

“That’s a long walk,” she complained as she uneasily stood up.

“What’s the matter? Think you’ll have an accident?”

“No.”

“Did you already have an accident?”

“No!”

“Why don’t I check?” I only brushed her leg but she jerked away forcefully.

“No!” she repeated in a more playful way.

“I bet the seat of your panties is all wet.”

“No!”

“Then show me.”

We ran around a bit and once more attracted attention to ourselves. I brought the chase to a stop by saying “I can make you drink the rest of the lemonade.”

“No! There’s most of a liter bottle left!”

“Show me your panties or I’ll make you swallow every drop.”

She spun around and flipped up her skirt and her white cotton underwear caught the bright summer sunlight.

“See?”

When the skirt fell and she stood up straight again she noticed a woman with two little kids was looking at us wide-eyed.

“Sorry! I got a little too frisky.”

“Good girl!” I said to my red-faced sweetheart.

“This is no good!” she said in a not so frisky voice as we were walking back home.

“What did you want?”

“Something kinky.”

“That’s what this is.”

“This isn’t what I asked for.”

“You asked me to hurt you.”

“Yes!”

“Well doesn’t it hurt?” I asked as I motioned to her crotch.

“Yes but that’s not it.”

“You also asked me to humiliate you.”

“Exactly!”

“But aren’t you humiliated? You’ve made a few scenes in public.”

“Yes but it’s not kinky.”

“I think it is. I’ll tell you one thing I’m having fun.” That was about when we passed the other set of bathrooms.

“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom? Flash my panties again?”

“No.”

“If we go over into the woods I’ll flash my breasts.”

“I still won’t let you use that bathroom.”

“I’ll flash everything! I’ll take off my panties. I’ll bend over a tree trunk. You can go to town! Just please let my go to the bathroom!” She accentuated the end of the sentence by stamping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. It was a natural motion because her legs had been jumping and dancing around a lot lately.

“You’ll use the bathroom at home.”

“That’s such a long way to walk!”

“We’ll take a shortcut.”

The shortcut took us to a babbling brook.

“You jerk! You’re doing this on purpose!”

“Of course.”

“Where’s the bridge?”

“We can step over this creek.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Just a hop.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” Her legs were plastered together and she was rocking from side to side.

“Then I know what to do.” I put the bags down and walked to her.

“What are…” she stopped saying words and let out a shrill squeal instead as I hoisted her up off the ground.

“Are you all right?” I asked the woman in my arms.

“Yes.”

“Still dry?”

“Yes! Just carry me across the creek already!”

I did and then I crossed over again and back for the bags. She had her hands over her ears.

“Can’t stand the sound of flowing water?” I asked as I took her hands by the wrists.

“You’re touching me so much today,” she said. I was starting to feel like I’d gone too far but then she took my hands and pulled me close to her. “Don’t stop.” I could feel her squirm uncomfortably as we hugged.

“It’s not that far to get home,” I said. “I’ll race you! We’ll each take one bag and if you get home before me the rules are all null and void.”

“If you get home before me?”

“Then you’ll need permission to enter the house.”

She didn’t stop to think about it. She just ran. I’ve never seen those legs work so hard. But my legs are longer and stronger. I was waiting on the back porch as she trotted up panting and shaking.

“You must be parched. Have some more lemonade.”

She didn’t fight it but she wouldn’t put her hands on the bottle. I fed her like a baby as she laid on her side.

“That’s enough,” she said after swallowing about a quart and standing up.

“No it’s not!” I grabbed her around the waist and made her sit on my lap on the steps.

“If I have an accident it’s gonna go on you,” she pointed out.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I said as I inserted the neck of the bottle into her mouth.

This time she was the one who noticed we were being watched. As I lowered the empty bottle she hollered “We’re just being lovey-dovey!” to our neighbors across the street.

“Good girl!”

“May I use the bathroom in the house?”

“Not yet.”

“How do I earn permission?”

“Keep being lovey-dovey.”

I sat on the porch swing and invited her to take a seat next to me. She sat down and leaned over and practically melted to my body. She kissed me all over my head and neck and ran her arms up and down my body. I’ve never seen (or felt) her so lively before. Her legs were kicking in the air.

“Good girl!” I said when she slowed down and put one hand between her legs. “You have permission to enter the bathroom.”

She shrieked in delight.

“You may use the toilet once you perform one final act.”

“No! What? Oh whatever let’s just go inside.” She ran in place as I took out my keys and unlocked the door. She ran to the bathroom and waited inside. She had an urgent look in her eyes as she stared at the toilet without a word.

“What do I have to do?” she asked as I came in with some old towels. I covered the floor in case of an accident.

“You can use the toilet after I do.”

“That’s all?”

“But you have to watch. Get down on your hands and knees. There’s a good girl.”

She was on one side of the toilet staring at the bowl she desperately wished she was on top of. I stood on the other side. I felt a little silly about what I’d planned but I still followed through. I unzipped my fly and opened the seam in my boxers. The look on her face when I pulled out my manhood assuaged my embarrassment.

“I’ve gone too long without seeing that,” she said.

“The toilet?” I asked with a smile.

“I meant your penis but that’s true too.” She changed her position so she was sitting with her legs crossed and both her hands pressed between her thighs. “I’ve got a feeling between my legs that’s killing me and I don’t know how much of that is one thing and how much is the other.”

“Good girl!”

“I’m not just saying that you know.”

“Get back in your stance. Your legs have to be apart and your hands have to be on the floor.” She obeyed.

“Good girl,” I said again as I began relieving myself. I’d had a long wait too. I didn’t mean to make a sound but I exhaled loudly as the pressure in my bladder dropped.

I heard other sounds that weren’t coming from me. My lover squeaked and then whimpered softly. Those sad longing eyes were focused on the jet of liquid I was emitting with such pleasure. It hissed against the side of the bowl and made deep rumbling liquid noises as it turned the water yellow and foamy.

I managed to stop moaning but she started. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she let out this long pained sound. All four of her limbs trembled. My stream kept going strong. She had a while to wait.

“You can always say it” I reminded.

“I’ve waited too long to quit,” she said in a voice somewhere between a sob and a whimper. “Keep going.”

I did and boy did it feel good. It was just winding down when she made me jump.

“It’s coming out!” she screamed. There were a few drops on the towel below.

I was so startled I lost control of my direction and made some drops of my own. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face.

“Good girl! Still in position.” My bladder had attained a comfortable feeling of near-emptiness so I cut off my stream. “You’re such a good girl you have permission to pee in the toilet!”

Before the sentence was over she was sliding her panties down her thighs. There was a dark yellow spot shaped like a figure eight but the rest of the cotton was white and dry. I offered my hand and she took it. I pulled her off the floor as she glued her thighs back together and thrust her other hand in for good measure.

A golden drop was hanging off one of her knees at the end of a long liquid trail. More spots had appeared on the towel and new ones were showing up by the second. When she neared a standing position I saw two more drops slide down from behind her hand. The flesh was white she was applying so much pressure but something was still leaking through.

Between her efforts and mine we managed to get that pert little bottom of hers onto the toilet seat. I put my penis away and zipped up.

She moaned again and the volume and feeling were now multiplied by ten. But even the pleasureful sounds coming out of her lungs couldn’t muffle the liquid sounds coming out of her bladder. She went at that toilet bowl like a sandblaster. The hissing was intense. So was the roar of the urine rushing into the toilet water. It was like the rapids of a wild river.

Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She had an expression of utter pleasure that I’ve never seen on her face. Not in such good lighting at least.

Once her moaning abated she opened her eyes and noticed the extreme interest I was taking in her body and the liquid flowing from it. She spread her legs wide and scooted back so I could take in the view. I’ve fired urine off that forcefully a few times in my life but I never thought I’d see that kind of pressure from a woman. It was like a raging golden waterfall.

“Oh God! I thought my bladder was going to burst inside me!” she said as her stream slowed. I was staring at our combined output. I’ve never seen toilet water so yellow.

“Thanks for not saying ‘burst’ before we were done. I’m sorry I made you suffer for my gratification.”

“Are you kidding? I loved every minute!”

“That’s impossible!”

“I was acting…to some extent. Thanks for the lovely day.”

“It was a lovely day,” I concurred.

Shimadacest Week Day 07 - Free Day