Code suppressed a yawn as she crossed the parking lot towards the bland office building that currently served as her workplace. Few people were enthusiastic about being up at 9 AM on a Monday; the lizard was even less so given that the commute required two bus transfers and thus required her to get up far earlier than that. So it was that she groggily swiped her keycard at the front doors, went past the empty reception desk and deserted corridors up to the third floor, past another deserted security checkpoint where she swiped the card again, and into a room full of unoccupied cubicles. It wasn't quite a private office, but given that the company was a mere shadow of its former glory and nobody ever came into the room except to pester her, it was the next best thing. She put down her backpack and the extra large hot chocolate she'd been sipping from during the journey, ready for another exciting day of sending emails that wouldn't be answered for days, making code changes that wouldn't be approved for weeks, and keeping up-to-date on everything interesting with her phone.

"It's only for one more month," she mused to herself; she'd been hired on as a contractor in someone's last-ditch attempt to save a doomed company. And while she probably could have helped dig them out of the hole they'd gotten themselves into, what would normally have been a difficult task was rendered impossible by red tape, bureaucracy, and incompetence. In other words, a typical large corporation. She had to spend several minutes at the start of every day setting her laptop back up - which she was not allowed to leave on-premises - due to some overpaid executive's mandate that they have a 'flexible' and 'agile' work environment. She technically wasn't supposed to have her phone out for personal reasons, or even have a drink on her desk, but it wasn't like there was anyone around to notice. The 10-minute startup time on her woefully underpowered company laptop gave her plenty of time to finish the rest of her hot chocolate, head to the cafeteria to make another one, return to her desk, and contemplate which of her phone games she could pass the time with.

Plans changed, though, once she finally logged in (another 5-minute process of pretending to watch a little blue circle spin in place) and brought up her emails. She'd long since set up filters to send all the system notifications that she couldn't unsubscribe from to the trash, leaving her with an unintelligable message from the offshore team, some status update chains she'd been CC'd on for no evident reason, and an email from HR about a policy update. "Good to know HR still has nothing important to do," she mumbled under her breath as she opened it out of curiosity, wincing at the wrapping-paper background behind the magenta Comic Sans lettering, and mentally filtering out the grammatical errors to decipher the gist of it:

"Attn: ALL STAFF
To help meet our objectives, effective today, all hourly employees are permitted only to bill time when they are at their desks or a meeting room. This means that bathroom breaks are no longer billable time. Please remember that all contractors are required to work exactly 40 hours per week. Thanks!"

Code raised an incredulous eyebrow. Her first thought was, "Is this even legal?" and her second was, "Do they even care?" followed by "Do they really think this will help?" but she eventually settled on, for the most part, a mixture of apathy and frustration. The only women's bathrooms on her floor that weren't "closed for maintenance" three months ago were out by the lobby, a long trek; not to mention that of those, only the handicapped stall was still functioning, so there managed to always be a line even at the hideously understaffed company. As a result, every trip would be - at a bare minimum - 15 minutes... if she was lucky, and the sales manager wasn't sitting in there yapping on her phone.

But on the other hand, she had one month left on her contract before she'd be off the sinking ship, and besides, she could just hold it. She glanced over the bug tracker to see if anything new had been assigned to her (it hadn't) or if any issues she'd assigned to others had gone anywhere (they hadn't), checked to see if the managers she needed were on the premises today (they weren't), and finally checked to see if she still had a pulse and casted a reflection (she did). Thus vindicated, she leaned back in her chair with her phone.

After about three hours and most of the ebook she was currently working on, she realized she would not, in fact, be able to hold it. The numerous hot chocolates, plus the generous glass of orange juice from breakfast, had worked their way through her and were politely asking to be let out. To be fair, they'd been asking politely half an hour ago but she'd been far too engrossed in the current plot twist to notice. She put down her phone to get up, and then remembered the email from earlier. Unfortunately for her, the keycards were needed to get into the bathrooms as well - after that one incident where a disgruntled interview candidate caused a small flood - and while she knew nobody was watching her at her desk, she knew HR most certainly did watch the keycard logs, after she got reprimanded and written up for showing up to work 1 minute late when the bus broke down and she had to run the rest of the way.

What were her options? She could use the stopwatch on her phone to track how long she took, if it really came to that, but that would be giving in to the latest asinine HR policy. She could steal someone else's keycard, but that would require a 'someone else' to be in the vicinity, and most of the people closest to her in the building, she actually liked. She could try to sneak up to the executives' floor where the bathrooms had no keycard, but for all the layoffs and terminations the company had gone through, nobody in upper management had been axed, which made it unlikely they'd be empty. She could...

Her eyes fell on the empty paper cup on her desk that had once been full of hot chocolate. An extra-large empty paper cup, at that. Of course! There was a much simpler solution. She was at her desk, and thus, perfectly fulfilling the letter of the law; it wasn't like anyone was going to notice her, and it would save her from having to leave potentially an hour later than normal. With her mind made up, she stood from her chair and, after a surreptitious look around the deserted cube farm to make sure nobody was coming, she took the lid off the cup, unzipped her slacks and pushed them down to her knees along with her panties, and spread her legs. With the fingers of her left hand, she rubbed lightly over the slightly raised lips of her pussy before spreading them apart, exposing the pink flesh and the two inner holes beyond, while her right hand held the cup in position less than an inch away.

It took several seconds before she could start - taking a leak at her desk was still a very daring risk that even she needed to get over the apprehension of - but she sighed in relief as she felt the floodgates open. The stream of her piss struck the bottom of the cup with a hollow sound that she was grateful nobody else was around to hear, quickly transitioning to splashing as the fluid level grew high enough. Her long tail swayed behind her and brushed the wall of the cramped cubicle as she savored the moment, enjoying both the relief and the excitement of the situation, listening to the pitch of the splash change as she continued to fill the cup with the steady, heavy stream gushing from her pussy. The cold-blooded lizard's piss was barely at room temperature, and she could feel it through the cup against her fingers wrapped around it as she kept going, filling the cup more and more. When it went past her top finger, she felt a moment of panic: was she going to overflow the cup? Would she be able to stop herself? Would she WANT to stop? Even as she shifted her grip to hold the cup level instead of at an angle, the splashing of her stream into the filling cup grew perilously high-pitched. But just in time, she felt herself run out; the last of her golden water sprayed into the cup, returning the area to its normal ominous silence, broken only by the hum of the fluorescents overhead. Feeling daring, she clenched her muscles to squeeze out the last of her urine, one final splash breaking the silence. Only then did she dare to look down, very carefully moving the cup to her desk.

There was barely half a centimeter left in the cup.

With a broad grin, she carefully put the lid back on, and made herself presentable again, tugging her panties back up, then her slacks, zipping and buckling them. A trip to the cafeteria to make another drink would still be much faster than a trip to the bathrooms, and she didn't have to swipe her keycard for that. She could definitely call this a victory.

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Two days later, Code was sitting in a conference room, by herself, drumming her fingers on the table as she tapped at her phone with her other hand. Despite the meeting being set up weeks in advance, she was the only one who had actually shown up to it. Well, her, and the manager who came on, said "Back in a minute", and then vanished without a trace. She'd booked the room for two hours (frankly, a non-meeting was preferable to a two-hour meeting) and it was already 45 minutes in, so it was pretty safe to assume that nobody else was showing up. Sadly, it was still a better turnout than most conference calls with the offshore group.

As she finished putting together a combo on the game she was playing, she felt a call incoming; not on her phone, but rather the call of nature. She'd successfully managed to avoid using the company bathrooms since the latest company policy change, though she'd made sure to stock up on extra paper cups to avoid cutting it as close as she had on Monday. As was quickly becoming tradition, she blindly reached out to the right of her laptop...

...and grasped at nothing. She glanced up. Did she miss? No, there was nothing there. It came back to her; she'd left her cup at her desk. She sighed in mild frustration; it was a minor inconvenience at worst, she could just walk back there. But then her eyes fell on the empty planter in the corner. Why even bother going back to her desk? There had probably been a potted plant in the corner at some point, and just as probably it was removed due to keep janitorial costs down. Getting up, she peeked outside of the conference room, but the hallway was deserted, and she had the room for at least another hour. Closing the door, she went back to the planter and took another look; definitely deep enough, and it looked like sufficiently real soil. And going by the crushed-out cigarette butt sticking out from it, nobody else particularly cared about it either. Perfect.

She stood and unzipped with a bit of a shiver of excitement; this would be far riskier. If someone else actually came along, she'd have almost no time to stop and make herself decent, but that gave her a thrill in and of itself. With her pants around her ankles and her pussy exposed, she squatted over the planter, as close as she could get to minimize splashing, right hand on the wall to keep herself steady, left hand spreading apart her labia. Thanks to her recent practice, she didn't take long to start pissing into the planter, her pale yellow fluid splashing onto the soil and soaking into it quickly. With a little more freedom from using such a large container, she wiggled her hips around, looking down to watch as she sprayed all around the inside of the planter and its contents, the initial patter of her fluid on the clumped soil transitioning to a wet watery splash as she saturated it faster than it could soak down. She watched her own piss pool up on top of the soil, slowly draining as she moved the flow of lizard-water to another part of the pot, so distracted and enthralled that the end of her own stream caught her by surprise. She forced out the last of it, watching it all slowly drain into the soil as she stood back up and put her clothing back on, panting a little in arousal. Too bad she still had a few hours left to go; she wasn't -quite- willing to take care of that on company property... yet, anyway.

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Code's lack of work wasn't remedied over the next couple weeks. The higher-ups didn't want to assign her anything, knowing her contract was almost up, but didn't want to just dismiss her because they'd have to pay a termination penalty. She was used to the company wasting her time by this point, and took the opportunity to keep her fluids up as she found more and more illicit ways to deal with the inevitable results, getting more and more daring as time went by. Finally with a week left on her contract, she was given something to do during a rainy Friday: investigate a server failure. Technically this wasn't her responsibility, but the only remaining on-site tech was busy reimaging a laptop that some executive had managed to fill with malware, and had asked her to handle it.

Inside the server room, she had just started checking labels on the mostly-empty racks when she heard something. A steady, dripping sound, the unmistakable sound of water in a room full of extremely expensive and very not-waterproof equipment. It didn't take long to find the hole in the ceiling that water was leaking from, leaving a long trail of water damage down the wall, with a bucket half-heartedly placed underneath the part of the ceiling that was dripping, on top of a pile of towels. Obviously it was a known problem, given the bucket and towels, and it didn't really surprise her - the company was falling apart, so the building might as well be too.

Sighing, she turned around and saw the label for the server in question, taking a glance at the blinking red lights on the side, and reaching over to cycle the power. Like pretty much all the other equipment on the premises, it would take at least ten minutes to restart. As she considered taking her phone out to start a game, she focused on the annoying dripping sound coming from behind her. Every three seconds: drip, drip, drip, drip. Turning her head, she looked up at the soaked and damaged ceiling, and the widening cone of water damage down the wall. She looked back at the server, which still only had one blinking light on it. Back at the wall, so thoroughly soaked it probably had severe structural problems already, enough that an extra lizard's worth of water wouldn't do any further harm. She had a few minutes to kill, and it seemed obvious to her how to do it.

This time, she faced away from the wall, unzipping her pants and tugging them down to just above her knees. She bent over and spread her legs wide, tail held high, her upper body almost level with the floor, and let loose on the wall behind her. Her piss ran almost clear from how much water she'd been drinking as it sprayed out messily all over the wall behind her, the dripping from the ceiling drowned out by the steady patter of her own water hitting the soaked wall. Aiming was nearly impossible, so it was just as well that she didn't need to; she craned her neck forward until she could look between her legs upside-down, watching herself pissing all over the wall, large clear droplets of urine raining all over the wall and running down onto the pile of towels. As her stream waned, it fell into the bucket, striking the sides with a loud metallic noise, the last of it hitting the towels between her and the wall. As was becoming custom for her little ritual, she forced out the last of it, her final squirt landing dead-center in the bucket by chance.

Then, she heard the server room door opening. She quickly stood up and tugged up her pants, grateful that she had only pulled them down a bit. Her shirt wasn't tucked in, but who cared? It would cover up the fact that her belt buckle was open. She stood right in front of the server at a distance that would be uncomfortably close if it was another person, as if inspecting it, pretending that everything was normal as she heard footsteps approach, and an exasperated sigh from beside her.

"They still haven't fixed this?" She recognized the voice of the tech, who had come to check on her. "It's getting worse every time it rains."

"They won't care until something fails." Code replied, doing her best not to look at the tech.

"Well, that won't take long at this rate. Hang on, I'll go empty the bucket. Geez, even it's soaked. Must have happened during that stormy period earlier."

"Yeah, probably." She mumbled in response. "Maybe you should get a bigger bucket."

She relaxed as he walked off with the bucket. That one had been a little too close for comfort.

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Finally, Code's last day came. She had nothing to do and no responsibilities, but they'd denied her request to head home early. She'd considered going out to the parking lot to give one of their cars a wash of her own style, but decided not to push her luck - even after another "Company Policy" email stating that had removed the free coffee, tea and hot chocolate from the break room. To "achieve our key results", of course.

As five o' clock rolled closer, she felt the need to take one final piss before she left the building forever, and idly thought about what to do with it as she scrolled past news articles on her phone. It would be her last chance, so she ought to do something really good with it, but what? Maybe sneak into an executive office and 'redecorate' it, but she didn't have access to their meeting schedules, so that would be a little too risky. A stairwell, perhaps, or maybe she could just stick her butt out the window and let loose on whatever was below...

A squeaking sound from elsewhere in the room snapped her back to her senses. Someone else was here? She stood up and looked around, spotting the janitor, a border collie in overalls and a white shirt, pulling a squeaky-wheeled mop bucket around, the mop handle sticking out of it at an angle. He looked over and spotted her, quickly calling out, "Hey, would you mind watching this for a minute? I'll be right back."

Before she could even respond, he left, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his overalls as he headed through a door into a stairwell. "Of course," Code muttered under her breath with a hint of bitterness, sighing in slight frustration. Not like anyone would steal the bucket; that would require other people to be around. Besides, it was a bucket of water. What could someone possibly want with a bucket of water...?

A grin slowly curled across her lips.

What COULD someone do with a bucket of water, indeed? His smoke break would last more than enough time for her to take a bathroom break of her own.

She snuck over to the bucket, knowing exactly what to do for her grand finale. Quickly, she unbuckled and undid her pants, dropping them to her ankles. It was just the right height that she could kneel down over it and keep it between her legs-

The door to the stairwell opened. She didn't have any time. She was so stunned that someone had actually come back, especially at this time on a Friday, that she just stared at it in defeated shock as the janitor pulled it open and stepped in.

"Forgot my-"

Their eyes met, and both stayed there in silence, the janitor staring at Code as she remained knelt over his mop bucket, her pussy exposed for him to see.

"Uhm-" she began, but he cut her off.

"So YOU'RE the one who's been watering the planters." he said, grinning widely. "Was hoping I'd get to find out who that was."

"Yeah," she replied in a daze, surprised at the turn of events yet incredibly grateful that he wasn't running off to go summon someone from HR. "Uhm, sorry about that, but you know that stupid policy-"

"Huh? Oh, don't worry about that," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Fuck this place. I don't even get a paid lunch any more. And I have to keep replacing and cleaning the towels in the server room because those assholes spent all their money on fancy hotels and first-class flights so they don't have money to get it fixed. Let's just say you won't be adding anything to that bucket that's not already there."

"Oh." she mumbled, turning her head aside, unsure where to go from there. Should she get up? Ask him to turn around...?

When she glanced back up at him, she saw him holding his phone, pointing the camera her general direction. "Go ahead," he said to her with a smirk, "Let me watch, and I won't tell anyone about this. Sound fair?"

Code weighed her options. She could probably leave, and she'd probably get away with it. On the other hand, she'd probably have to escape quickly, and she'd still have a full bladder to deal with. Sure, she was basically being blackmailed, but being asked to do something she was going to do anyway had he not come back.

"Keep my head out of frame." She said to him, and he chuckled in response, tilting the phone a little to comply. Then, after a moment, she added, "And send me a copy afterwards."

"Don't worry, I'm zoomed in on where the action is." He responded, wagging his white-tipped tail rapidly.

Figuring that that was going to be as good a deal as she'd get, Code focused on relaxing as she reached down to spread her pussy lips open. She had to admit, there was a certain extra excitement to showing off for an appreciative audience, even if it wasn't a planned one. As she felt her release starting, she let out a low groan of pleasure, hamming it up for the 'camera', leaning back to better show off as her pale yellow stream sprayed from her urethra and into the bucket below. At first it hit the bubble-covered and blue-tinted water, splashing loudly, but as her stream picked up it struck against the mop head at the other end of the bucket with a dull pattering noise. The collie didn't say anything as he watched and filmed the lizard while she unleashed her stream into the bucket below, shifting her hips to move it around, striking the inner sides of the bucket where her urine ran down into the water below. "Oh, yes," she moaned out; even though she was legitimately enjoying herself and getting aroused from the excitement of the situation, she played it up even more for the movie, panting loudly for emphasis. She raised her hips, putting more distance between her hips and the bucket, letting her stream sail through the air for longer before hitting the water more loudly, rocking her hips back and forth slowly to spray all over the inside of the water in the bucket. Eventually she ran dry, trickling off slowly to a stop, and letting out another exaggerated pleasured sigh as she did, before clenching her muscles for a final squirt. The collie held the camera for another second, then tapped the screen and lowered his phone.

As turned on as she was, she didn't want to stick around longer than necessary in the building, and got back up, slipping her clothes back on. "Thanks," the janitor said with a grin, sloshing the mop around inside of the bucket.

"No problem," Code responded, pulling her wallet from her pocket and taking a business card from it to hand to him. "There's my personal email. I hope you got some good footage."

He chuckled as he slipped the card into a pocket. "Great footage. You're welcome to help refill my bucket any time."

"Ah, sorry, but today's my last day. I won't be around any more after this."

"That's a shame. But hey, if your next place needs a janitor, give me a call. Can't be any worse than this place." As the collie wrung out the mop and started to mop the floor nearby, he chuckled a little more and wagged his tail back and forth. "Even though I'd have to actually use a urinal there."

"Will do. Having to use the bathroom is a small price to pay for a place that isn't soul-crushing to work at."

With that, she headed back to her desk to gather her things and prepare to head home. As she prepared to leave, her phone buzzed, and a glance at her screen confirmed what she expected - an email titled "Check what this lizard did at my job today!"

She suppressed a chuckle as she forwarded it off to her sister, stashing her pocket in her phone. Maybe that company policy wasn't so bad after all...