The grinding sound of the ice skate sharpener was too loud for any possible conversation, so Hannah kept focused on her task, all under the watchful eye of the coach standing next to her. Carefully, she used both hands to move the clamp holding the skate in place, sparks flying from the grindstone as the blade came into contact with it.

The coach had given her demonstration earlier, and now it was Hannah's turn, as she lent a hand with some of the work that went into keeping the team running. Not because she had to in any way, but simply because she had volunteered. Partly it had been from curiosity and a legitimate desire to learn, but she had an ulterior motive: doing this would make her the last person to leave...

Upon finishing the skate, the coach checked it, but it wasn't quite right so she had Hannah try again with some more focused advice. It took a while, but Hannah didn't mind at all even though she was dealing with a pressure in her lower abdomen, one that she had planned on having. After she had left a puddle in the locker room, there had been some questions asked, and Hannah played innocent – which led to them simply concluding that someone else had come into the locker room. After all, they weren't locked, so anyone with access to that general part of the rink could get in.

And that revelation had given her an idea...

Under the coach's guidance and with more practice, Hannah quickly got the hang of sharpening the skates, enough that the coach was sufficiently confident to leave her alone to finish the rest of them to change and pack up her own things. Hannah dutifully kept at it, and eventually the coach returned to check her work when she was done, allowing Hannah to head back to the locker room herself.

It was, as expected, completely empty now, with everyone else on the team having already headed home. She said goodbye to the coach when the lynx popped in briefly, then went about her normal routine of getting changed back into her t-shirt and shorts. She couldn't help but smirk a little as she pulled them on; Sydney would probably call her crazy for wearing shorts this late in the year, but with her fur she didn't need anything longer just yet.

And, as planned, by the time she had packed all of her gear up and into her duffel bag, the coach was long gone and Hannah was accompanied only by the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights and the nagging pressure in her bladder. As tempting as it was to just let it out on the floor again, she had a better idea in mind...

Leaving her gear behind to come back for later – it wasn't like anyone else was going to come by, after all – Hannah left the girls' locker room and glanced down the corridor in both directions. It was completely empty, and the door to the boys' locker room was just down the hall. She hesitated only briefly at the door, quickly mentally preparing an excuse for if there was someone inside: she'd ask if they'd seen her brother. Whoever it was wouldn't know she didn't have one.

Taking a breath, Hannah pushed open the door and slipped inside, peeking around the sharp turn that prevented anyone from looking in from the corridor even when the door was open. She needn't have worried, though – the lights weren't even on, flickering to life as soon as some motion sensor picked up the door opening, immediately telling her that nobody had been inside for quite some time.

The locker room was almost identical to the girls', but its layout was mirrored, so that the exit out to the ice would be close to the same door leaving the girls' lockers. In all other respects it was almost disappointingly similar: two rows of lockers lining the walls, a bathroom in the corner, and a couple of benches in the open space in the middle. While the rational part of Hannah's mind wasn't very surprised, she had expected a 'forbidden' space to be more... unusual.

Still, even if it looked ordinary, it didn't change the fact that she wasn't supposed to be here, and every additional step she took forward towards the center of the room only made the thrill of the moment grow on her. Her ears were pricked up to listen for any sound, but all she heard was the fluorescent lights, and she exhaled as she felt confident that she was alone and wouldn't be disturbed.

Approaching the benches, she started to unbutton her shorts. If she was quick, it would be perhaps about two minutes to do her business on the floor, clean herself up, pull her shorts up and leave. She could sit on the bench just like she'd done in the girls' locker room last time, but with the thrill of being in a place she wasn't meant to even be at all...

Her finger and thumb pulled down the zipper on her shorts, but then she stood where she was, lost in thought, both excited about what she was planning to do and nervous from the possibility of being caught. Her eyes flicked between the doors in and out of the locker room, and she almost jumped at some very distant noise she barely picked up from elsewhere in the rink, taking deep breaths afterwards.

As she silently reassured herself that she was safe, Hannah glanced around again, casting her gaze across the lockers that were identical to those in the girls' room. If she really did have free reign of the place, and nobody would suspect her to be in this location, why merely settle for the quickest option? While the ache in her lower abdomen wanted her to take care of her needs quickly, she could hold it a bit longer and find an even better spot if she wanted to.

Leaving her shorts unzipped but keeping her left hand on them, Hannah roamed around a little in search of... what? The most visible spot? No... the messiest? No... she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted, merely that she would know it when she saw it. Of course, the men's locker room was just as plain as the women's, with little more to it than the lockers, benches and bathroom. And the bathroom wasn't exactly an exciting option, even if it was one reserved for men, since it was just a single tiny room with a toilet and sink, not even a 'real' men's bathroom. Was the middle of the floor really the best spot available? The lockers were there, sure, but she wasn't Sydney; she wasn't very good at peeing standing up, and she'd just end up making a mess of herself, either directly or from the splash-back on the solid metal surface...

A thought came to her, and she walked over to the nearest locker, her tail swishing mischievously, and she gave the door a little tug. Locked. But would all of them be? She gave each one a quick test, and the fourth one along popped open, only revealing an empty interior. Undeterred, Hannah closed the door and continued along the bottom row of lockers, finding a few that opened, but with nothing more inside of them than a single scrap of paper that had probably fallen out of someone's pocket...

Then, finally, five lockers from the end, she hit the jackpot: an unlocked bottom-row locker with someone's gear still inside of it, all piled up loosely after being thrown in haphazardly. The locker was too small to hold a stick, but the owner had stuffed their helmet, jersey, pants, skates and armor into the available space, with red and white colors that she recognized as belonging to the local amateur men's team – the male complement to her own team.

Under any other circumstance, finding a locker stuffed with some random guy's possibly-dirty sports gear would have been an unpleasant experience. But instead, a wide grin crossed Hannah's muzzle, her whiskers perked up, and her tail's wagging hastened to almost become a blur. This was exactly what she was looking for!

Dropping her shorts and then sliding her panties down, she hurriedly took off her shoes and then pulled both garments over her feet to leave herself bottomless, dropping her clothes onto the bench behind her. The locker door only opened slightly more than 90 degrees, so she took a moment to consider her positioning – bending over and facing away could maybe work, but some part of her wanted to watch. She had something to brace herself on, though, and an idea came to her after a moment. She'd had to pull some crazy poses as a high school cheerleader, and while it had been a while since those days, maybe she could do one more...

With her right hand resting on the top of the locker door for support, Hannah raised her left leg up as high as she could, resting her heel against the upper row of lockers. She was too out of practice to manage a perfect split, but she got her leg to a high enough angle for her purposes, holding it up with her left hand and leaning in to bring her loins as close to the door as she could manage. She had to bend her right leg just a little bit, and she could only hold the position by firmly gripping the door, but would it work? There was only one way to find out.

Her moderate desperation proved helpful, as only a few moments after she tried to relax her abdominal muscles, she felt the tingling indicating the start of her release. A strong stream of urine, pale from all the water she'd been drinking during practice and then saving up for this moment, shot from her slit and struck the jersey on top of the pile. Even though she was focusing on keeping her balance, Hannah tilted her head to watch, finding herself fascinated by the way the fabric darkened and the visible mark of her pee grew larger and larger. On top of that, there was something enthralling about the noise: both wet splashing from striking the quickly-soaked fabric, and a pattering sound from whatever harder object the jersey was on top of, probably the helmet. It was so very different to just a normal splashing sound that it sent a thrilled shiver up her spine: the drumming and pattering that reached her ears was a constant reminder that she wasn't just using some floor or wall somewhere, but the gear of some guy she didn't even know. Stray droplets landed here and there around where her stream was impacting, but most of her stream remained cohesive until it sprayed off from the point of impact, sending flecks onto the inner walls of the locker.

Her grin widened further as she watched, and with a firm grip on the locker door, she started to move her hips a little bit to make as much of a mess of the inside of the locker as she could. She had already saturated the jersey quite thoroughly at the spot she was peeing on, and the excess was soaking through into the rest of his gear – whoever 'he' was – and getting it wet too. One edge of the jersey had a steady stream of pale yellow droplets dripping off of it, and what little Hannah could see of the locker floor had a visible puddle starting to form there, only making her more excited. How much of this would dry by the time it was found? Would there still be a visible mark? Would the owner know that she, or someone at least, had come in and used this gear as her own-?

Hannah's stream began to weaken as she started to run dry, and as if in retaliation she clenched with her abdominal muscles to push what she had left in her out harder, keeping the stream going at its full strength. It lasted a few seconds more before coming to a sudden end with just a few extra drops, but she squeezed out a couple of additional heavy squirts before the third produced nothing. Her momentary disappointment that it was over was quickly forgotten due to the rush she still felt, panting from excitement. Everything about what she had just done had been a thrill; a building she should have left already, a room she wasn't meant to be in, using some stranger's things, actively making a mess...

Lowering her leg, she backed up to the bench to fetch some tissues from the pocket of her shorts, giving herself a quick wipe and tossing them into the locker as soon as she was done. Now, even if it all dried, there'd still be a sign, a mark, that she had been there. Closing the locker door, she quickly set to putting her panties, shorts and shoes back on, glancing at the locker one last time. Other than a couple of droplets that had landed on the floor outside of the locker, there was no sign of what she had done now. And who would notice a few tiny droplets...?

She hesitated again as another idea came to mind, and she reached into her pocket for her phone. Staying a little longer wouldn't hurt; she was definitely all alone here. Opening the locker back up, she pulled up the camera app and crouched down for a better angle. One, two, three... she took pictures of different angles, some with flash and some without. Then for good measure she recorded a brief video, moving her phone in an approximate figure of eight to really capture the inside of the locker. Only after that did she pocket her phone once more and close the locker, leaving for good this time.

At the door, she peeked out cautiously and glanced down the corridor, but it was still just as empty as earlier. Hurrying back to the women's locker room to gather her things, she breathed a sigh of relief when she got inside, now officially having gotten away with her deed. On top of that, with the heavy pressure in her bladder now gone, she felt much better than she did before.

Yet she couldn't get it out of her head – that thrill she had felt had been undeniable. It was far better than using the floor in here. Leaving her mark on someone else's things – there was some excitement, some sense of adventure, some tantalizing enjoyment in the act. And more than that, it felt... empowering, like she was really taking control of something by doing so. Why? ...she couldn't answer that fully, at least not yet...

A smirk crossed her muzzle as she shouldered her duffel bag, heading for the door once more. She'd just have to do it more until an answer came to her, and as she left to head for the parking garage, her mind was already buzzing with ideas on how to do exactly that.
