Zayck sucked at the straw in his drink cup, but there was only ice left, so he set it down on the floor with the empty popcorn box and stack of napkins, before returning his attention to the big screen and the chase through the woods currently happening on it. He wasn't the only person in the theater, but it was mostly empty all the same, largely on account of it being an 18+ movie. Which meant no kids causing a ruckus, so he was fine with that.

It also meant there was nobody to complain about his large frame; Zayck was a big dragon, with a broad chest and shoulders and a pair of wings that stuck out from his sides even while folded up. His scales were black on most of his body, and a deep green along his front and underside, matching the color of the spikes going down his back. Meanwhile the membranes of his wings and ear-fins were more of a dark cream color, as were his horns. Had anyone been sitting behind him they wouldn't have been able to see a thing – but fortunately two entire rows behind him were empty.

In the movie, the werewolf on the screen arrived at an old house in the woods, panting for breath. "Think I lost it..." he muttered, glancing around behind him into the pitch black woods.

A twig snapped and the werewolf turned away from the camera, crouching down – and giving the camera a clear view of the back of the werewolf's sheath and balls, a shot of which there had been many so far in this movie. Zayck didn't mind, but a row in front of him and off to the side, another filmgoer let out a sigh and turned to his companion. "Obvious fanservice, again," he complained. "Glad I'm not taking a drink for every crotch or ass shot."

Zayck had bigger problems. The extra-large soda he had drained was bad enough by itself, but he hadn't thought to pay the men's room a visit before the movie started, and was regretting it now. His bladder was straining, but the movie was nearly over, or at least it had to be by now; Zayck hadn't thought to check what the exact start time was after all the trailers and ads at the beginning.

"...guess it was nothing..." the werewolf muttered, turning back towards the camera, which lingered on his crotch for a moment before panning up to the werewolf's face. As Zayck shifted and squirmed in his seat, the werewolf shifted from foot to foot, before opening the door.

"Cabin in the woods, we know where this is going," the amateur critic in the row ahead of Zayck grumbled.

The werewolf stepped inside, only for the door to slam shut behind him, making him jump a little and look over his shoulder. Normally a werewolf would be the scariest part of a horror movie, but this film had decided to pull a bait and switch: after scaring off the fake protagonists by accident, the werewolf was now on the run from an even bigger, nastier monster, the kind that would make the movie 18+ even if it weren't for all the gratuitous crotch shots. Only a few glimpses of the real monster had been seen so far, and Zayck hadn't liked it one bit.

Surely this had to be the finale, right? Zayck squirmed in his seat and reached down, grabbing onto his sheath. His bladder was straining, and he had to squeeze his crotch firmly to keep it under control. As he did, the werewolf mimicked the motion, whining softly and grabbing at his sheath, with the camera following his hand the whole time. "I'm not a little puppy, I can hold it..." the werewolf murmured, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other a little faster than before.

"Ugh," complained the man near Zayck, "Time for the writer's barely disguised fetish..."

Zayck grumbled a little at the irony. It certainly wouldn't help his problem to have the movie do the same thing. "There's got to be a bathroom around here somewhere, right...?" the werewolf mused aloud as he stepped into the dark house, flicking a lightswitch but without any lights turning on. As he looked around the main hall, barely lit by the moonlight coming in through the front windows, he squeezed his legs together and bounced a little in place. "Just got to take care of this, then I can deal with that THING out there..."

The werewolf crept forward with his hand between his legs, something the camera was all too happy to focus on, while Zayck kept squeezing his sheath to prevent any leaks. Panting a little, the werewolf made his way through a dark corridor and turned into a small bathroom, glancing around before approaching the toilet in the corner.

"Fet-ish mo-vie," the critic near Zayck mumbled.

But just as the werewolf lifted up the lid on it, some animatronic monstrosity burst out from the bowl in a spray of water. The jumpscare took Zayck completely off guard and he let out a small cry that was mercifully masked by a scream from somewhere else in the theater. Startled and letting go of his sheath for a moment, Zayck accidentally shot a powerful burst of urine upward that splashed on his muzzle and chest. The werewolf let out a "Yipe!" and jumped back, the camera positioned just right to catch a spray of urine gushing out from the werewolf's sheath as well, showing it sailing through the air and landing on the floor. As the werewolf turned and fled down the corridor in a panic, the camera kept low to ensure his furry sheath and balls remained in-frame as they bounced back and forth.

Panicking, Zayck looked around, but nobody else had noticed his leak. Quickly grabbing his sheath again, he cursed himself for falling for such a cheap jump scare. At least he had something: reaching down, he grabbed the small stack of napkins he had brought and began wiping the droplets of piss off his chest with them. Wanting not to be dripping with urine any longer than necessary, Zayck extended his tongue and licked it off of his muzzle, wincing a bit at the highly salty taste of his own pee. Back and forth he moved his tongue while drying his chest simultaneously, pulling his tongue into his mouth now and then, lapping up all of the golden fluid on his scaly snout until he couldn't feel any more on him.

But his partial release only made his bladder ache all the more. Holding the napkins over his sheath while he gripped at it firmly, he thought to himself, 'Just don't think about it...' and tried to take his attention away from his need to piss by focusing on the movie. But to his surprise, as the werewolf leant against a wall in the front hall and panted for breath, grasping at his crotch, Zayck heard his thoughts echoed back to him with the werewolf's internal monologue: "Just don't think about it..." while the camera showed him clutching at his loins, shifting from one foot to the other as she squirmed in place.

The would-be critic sighed. "Oh yeah, the writers knew exactly what they were doing here."

A loud thump at the front door in the movie made both Zayck and the werewolf freeze up before looking over at it. A second thump of something beating on it from the other side sent the werewolf fleeing down another corridor, turning the corner just inside for an ominous crash of snapping wood and breaking glass as the door was shattered completely.

The werewolf came to a stop just inside of a kitchen, panting for breath. But Zayck groaned as the camera shifted back and changed focus to a kitchen sink, the faucet not fully closed and dripping. Loudly. Each heavy drop of water splashing in the sink made Zayck squirm, gritting his teeth, feeling a surge of need from his bladder. 'Just hold your sheath tighter...!' he thought to himself, now reaching between his legs with both hands and pressing the napkins against his crotch firmly to stave off the wave of desperation.

On the screen, the werewolf looked out the door, heard a heavy thumping footstep, then shuffled into the kitchen, looking for a hiding place. "Just hold your sheath tighter...!" the werewolf's inner monologue echoed to the audience, and he grasped his sheath with both hands, pinching at it twice with his index fingers and thumbs, much to the chagrin of the man sitting near of Zayck. The werewolf had his teeth bared, which might have made him look more ferocious if not for the bow-legged way he was walking with both hands pressed to his loins, visibly squirming and shifting on his feet every time he stopped for a brief moment.

Another heavy footstep made the werewolf scurry deeper into the kitchen, briefly taking his hand away from his sheath to open the cupboards, each one filled with junk. But at last he found one that was empty and squeezed himself inside, pulling the door closed to hide himself. Unfortunately, it was right next to the sink, and the dripping of the faucet was all the more audible. As the werewolf looked up and whined in the confined space, holding his sheath with two hands, his legs squeezing together tightly around his hands, Zayck groaned a little as well, feeling like his bladder was going to explode.

More heavy footsteps sounded, and the camera showed something moving through the kitchen, using lighting tricks to never quite show the monster fully, just the outline of its grotesque form. Then it would cut to the inside of the cabinet, where the werewolf kept still, squished into the tiny space under the counter, squirming and wincing with some gratuitous shots of his crotch showing him squeezing his sheath tightly.

'There's no way I can hold it...!' Zayck thought to himself, too distracted by his over-full bladder to notice his exact words were still being echoed by the werewolf. Taking a deep breath as he shuddered in place, Zayck held his breath to try and last just a bit longer as the dripping faucet got another moment of focus. The camera switched rapidly between the veiled monster, the werewolf (or at least his sheath, balls and hands), and the dripping faucet.

"The writer should just stick to porn," the filmgoer ahead of Zayck grumbled, but he barely registered it. As the monster stopped right next to the sink, the movie amped up the violin strings a little, and the werewolf grimaced. Zayck couldn't hold it, and shifted towards the edge of his seat, both hands pressed to his crotch. It wasn't enough; as a pang of desperation hit him, a spray of urine struck the napkins and soaked through them, getting his hands wet. He squirmed, closing his legs around his hands tightly, and just barely managed to stop any more from leaking, though the squeezing wrung some of his piss out from the saturated napkins. It was a hard battle, and one he only won by the slimmest of margins, his bladder still aching intensely from being denied its release a second time.

Zayck glanced up at the movie as he turned the napkin stack over and rubbed it around to try and dry his crotch again, soaking the napkins further with his piss. The werewolf was trying to keep still, showing his teeth as he grimaced, and then the camera dipped down sharply, showing his fur darkening between his legs as he leaked a little. His hands tightened and his legs wrapped tightly around his lower arms, showing him trembling for a moment before relaxing, stopping any more of a leak. Still, his fur was visibly darkened, easily seen thanks to camera trickery that allowed for light in what should have been a totally dark space.

This had to be close to the end of the movie, right? Zayck squirmed in place, fighting off another, slightly lesser twinge in his bladder. After what felt like an eternity, the monster slowly stomped off, leaving the werewolf alone under the sink. 'Just gotta power through it...!' Zayck thought to himself, at the very edge of his seat. The moment the credits started rolling he would run for it.

"Just gotta power through it...!" the werewolf's inner monologue repeated to the audience, as he slinked out from under the sink and stood back up, immediately grabbing his crotch with both hands again. While listening out for the monster, he hopped from one foot to the other and bounced momentarily on each, panting and whining quietly. The fact that the movie began playing a faint sloshing sound in the background while the camera lingered on the werewolf's lower belly did not help Zayck in the slightest. It proved too much for him and he felt additional wetness against his hands through the napkins, forcing him to clench his muscles and his teeth to stop the spill becoming a full-on leak. Frantically, he squeezed the napkins again, but they were already wet, and he accomplished little more than wringing his piss out from them and onto his own crotch to the point that it soaked into the seat under him.

Making a break for it, the werewolf ran down the corridor again as fast as he could with his hands between his legs. At one point he passed over the camera, which turned to follow him as he did, a drop of pee landing on the lens. Fumbling open a door, the werewolf staggered into what looked like an old-timey armory, with a number of display cases featuring old guns, uniforms and even a cannon. "Jackpot...!" the werewolf whispered, taking a step forward, and then shuddering in place.

As Zayck trembled in his seat, hoping that this was the ending sequence, the werewolf shuddered too, whimpering with his knees and legs shaking. Another strong pang hit Zayck and the dragon screwed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to fight it off. He did everything he could: pressing his hands into his crotch, standing up so he could slide his tail between his legs to press too, squeezing his legs together, and focusing on holding his bladder just a bit longer...

"He's going to wet himself," the filmgoer in the next row said with an exasperated sigh. "How predictable."

Zayck considered getting up to run for it, but surely they were at the end... no, he could make it. He could make it! "I'm going to make it...!" the werewolf said aloud. But as the werewolf hurried forward, frantically looking over the armory for a usable weapon, he let out a whine and came to a stop. Too late, Zayck realized he should have gotten up while he had the chance.

'No, I almost made it...!' Zayck thought as his eyes screwed shut tightly, trying to fight off the strongest surge of desperation yet. But his bladder refused to give in this time: he had to pee, and now. He fought it as hard as he could as the werewolf in the movie fell to his knees, the camera zooming in close on his crotch, but it was no use for either of them. Zayck groaned out in defeat when he felt the tell-tale tingle of his bladder starting to release, vainly squeezing at his loins regardless.

Zayck's bladder refused to be held any longer, and hot piss sprayed out against his hands. Urine gushed from the werewolf's sheath and hissed loudly as it did. Zayck felt the wetness spreading down his inner thighs, and across the tail he still had between his legs, soaking through to the seat under him. The werewolf groaned out as his piss poured down between his legs and onto the floor. Zayck trembled in place on his seat, trying to will himself to get back up and run for the toilets, for all the good it would do him now, but he couldn't make his legs move. Instead he tried to fold the already wet napkins over his sheath, for all the good they would do him. Pressing them against his sheath he succeeded only in soaking them through the rest of the way, and his piss poured down from them between his legs regardless. "Not now...!" the werewolf whispered, a puddle growing rapidly underneath him just as Zayck soaked the padding of his seat.

Zayck tried to press his wet hands and the napkins harder against his crotch to no avail; nothing could stop his stream at this point, and he was going so hard that his piss was starting to tear through the flimsy drenched napkins. He panted and groaned, a heavy shiver running through his body as his bladder continued to empty at full blast, sure that everyone would be looking at him as he wet himself in the theater, and kept his eyes tightly shut so he wouldn't have to see their gazes. But if any of them noticed, they weren't saying anything; all Zayck could hear was the splashing of his stream and the werewolf's as they both drenched themselves and their immediate surroundings with urine. Zayck grunted a little as he felt his piss strike his hand, going clear through the napkins now, but he squeezed them against his sheath all the same, making a wet squishing sound and squeezing urine out to drip into the growing puddle.

As his involuntary release finally stopped and a shiver ran along his spine again, Zayck slipped forward off the chair, surprised at how hard the floor felt under his knees. Folding the tatters of the napkins, he vainly tried to wipe up some of his piss, but it was even less effective than a wet sponge. Panting, Zayck waited for the amateur critic to make some comment, but none came. Instead he heard the werewolf speak: "What- who are you? Where'd you come from?"

Curious, Zayck opened his eyes slowly, then snapped them open as he saw the werewolf directly in front of him. He got up as the werewolf did, dropping the soaked napkins, both backing away from each other, the werewolf leaving a puddle of piss on the floor of the armory compared to just a few wet marks where Zayck had been. Zayck felt his tail bump something, and looked over his shoulder in reflex; there was a big display cabinet there, and as he spun in place, looking around, he saw that this wasn't even a movie set. It was an enclosed room.

A heavy footsteps from nearby shook the whole house, and the werewolf twisted and turned away from Zayck. "Oh no. It's coming back...!"

A wet lap was about to be the least of Zayck's problems.