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  "description": "My first story with a completely original character (and I mean that like...of ANY story I've written, I think)!\n\nSo normally I'm not too into wetting. I derive more arousal from girls making it to the toilet or, failing that, some desperate place of last resort to drop their drawers and spray with relieved impunity in their final throes of control over a long session of euphoric release. Wetting to me is like...a downer end and doesn't feel like it brought things to a satisfying conclusion. Embarrassing, sure, but I think it's possible to get that in other ways and not have to resort to just filling their underwear. Plus...you know...if they were able to get somewhere to pee properly then their pants would be off and you can see the goods. Can't really get that with a pants-wetting.\n\nHowever this story came to me while I was looking at @mttbsmn's gallery. Their content is primarily potty failures but several still end with the poor lady getting her underwear down, soaked as it is, and having partial success. Additionally I found that, because of the translation system that mttbsmn uses, it creates some interesting phrasing in their descriptions. As I've learned I can be turned on more easily by words than pictures (hence why I love me the toilet stories of @NovaRites and others).\n\nPutting all that together I decided to do a story about such a subject. My other two story projects (the sequel to the first-person siblings story and the continuation of my Sonic story) are still out there but I've been at a bit of a writer's block with both of them and a deviation could help clear my head. I'm actually surprised how long this story ended up for something that was kind of meant as a side project, although I really like the quality of narration I was able to bring to it (I definitely feel like I'm improving in my ability to set a scene or describe a character's thought process, although I still think I'm weak in my ability to properly illustrate through words on a character's appearance). This story was composed over the course of about a week or so. The story ended up a bit more on the \"clinical\" side when it comes to describing the actual act, admittedly (so lacking a truly urophiliic slant, being more an un-kinky account of Lyn's ordeal), but I tried to stuff as much detail in there that could still get someone in the mood. Also, not being a girl, I do hope I properly captured both the feel of bursting to pee and the mechanics of how it happens for females (I'll admit a measure of naivete on my part, even for my age - I was actually looking at diagrams to ensure I really understood what was happening). I can account how these sensations feel for a guy but I won't speak to how a female would feel on the edge of pissing herself.\n\nFor some backstory on this, I had originally intended for this story to be completely different. My original concept for this was to star a college girl who had recently hit the legal drinking age out with friends on a Friday night. Seeing as simply walking up to the bar and ordering a drink is still fresh and new to her she overdoes it and, in her drunken ways, hails a rideshare to go home and proceeds to piss all over the backseat. The reason I didn't pursue this story concept was, actually, a weird feeling of guilt. I didn't like the idea of playing up my protagonist as being so inconsiderate that she gets drunk enough to pee in someone else's car. I'm sure it happens but for me it felt like a bridge too far. I would rather have had my protagonist be someone who is able to know better but simply ends up in a situation where that doesn't matter, hence why I went with a younger character who was too cavalier in her ability to hold it. Furthermore the idea of her sloshing herself in the privacy of her own home and doing so without anyone else around was so that most of the weight would come down inside her own mind without needing to introduce external characters to ramp up the humiliation. The denouement allows her shame to be found out but in a way that doesn't leave her feeling rotten.\n\nThe whole idea of \"losing it right at the toilet\" came to me from, believe it or not, personal experience in my recent past. I had a similar loss of faculty when I had made it all the way to a bathroom and then got tripped up by my belt as the final straw that saw it end poorly (although that one was...uh...the other end >_> - I like to assume that someone could also lose control of their number 1 for the same reasons, though, assuming they were full up enough; mttbsmn even has some images in this vein that helped me frame what this would look like for my writing). Furthermore I even did some \"research\" during my course of writing this and, while I was just bored at work, let myself get more full than I would otherwise and took mental notes on the sensation to really dial it in (this is where the description of \"stinging\" and the notion that it's actually not as hard to distract yourself when you're urgently needing to go came from).\n\nSome other notes:\n\n- I was indecisive about the character's name. I almost wanted to change it to \"Heather\" shortly before it went live but ultimately decided to keep it as it is.\n- Her name is short for \"Evelyn.\" She would have had a sign on the outside of her bedroom door that read as much.\n- I wasn't entirely confident on her species either because I wasn't sure what the best way to describe a raccoon's fur getting wet would be like. Ultimately I feel like I sidestepped the matter.\n- I don't entirely like the scenario I posed for why Lyn had to hold it for so long (something tells me if a school had a plumbing shutdown to that degree to where they could only offer so few toilets they really would have just cancelled class - my thinking was since the buses were already on the way into the school when they found the problem they couldn't just send those back even if they turned away the kids arriving by car). However I am taken back to a situation at a worksite where, for [i]months[/i], there was no water at all due to a water main issue and they had to use port-a-potties followed by a mobile toilet truck to accommodate the staff (thankfully I did not work there full time, only when I was needed there - I actually wrote this description on a day I was working there, although no more plumbing issues!), so perhaps that could have been reasonable for a one-day situation in a school.\n- I didn't necessarily think of every species for the other characters along the way so if it goes unmentioned you can picture them as you want to.\n- If you didn't work it out by the story cues, Lyn's schedule is Science, Computer Animation, P.E., Math (plus lunch), World Cultures, Web Design, and Language Arts. There was no intention behind this but I did have to make certain adjustments as I realized I had written conflicting info about where her classes would have been throughout the day and, surprisingly, by the end I had a working middle school class schedule.\n- Using accurate terms for \"girl parts\" was very awkward for me as a guy writing a fetish story and still feels awkward for me when I read it back. >_>' It doesn't feel like I have the \"right\" to use them if I'm employing them in the service of seeding arousal in the reader. I would have preferred to use euphemisms in their stead but I felt like they were growing too repetitive the more I relied on them and \"pussy\" felt too raw for the tone I was setting so eventually I consigned myself to dipping into the anatomical glossary to keep my writing from being overly dry.\n\nAnyway, that's it. Leave some comments on what you think and hopefully I can get back to my other story projects now that I have this together.",
  "description_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>My first story with a completely original character (and I mean that like...of ANY story I&#039;ve written, I think)!<br /><br />So normally I&#039;m not too into wetting. I derive more arousal from girls making it to the toilet or, failing that, some desperate place of last resort to drop their drawers and spray with relieved impunity in their final throes of control over a long session of euphoric release. Wetting to me is like...a downer end and doesn&#039;t feel like it brought things to a satisfying conclusion. Embarrassing, sure, but I think it&#039;s possible to get that in other ways and not have to resort to just filling their underwear. Plus...you know...if they were able to get somewhere to pee properly then their pants would be off and you can see the goods. Can&#039;t really get that with a pants-wetting.<br /><br />However this story came to me while I was looking at \r\n\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block; vertical-align:bottom;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='vertical-align: middle; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 50px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/mttbsmn'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/232/232517_mttbsmn_img_20220424_074958.jpg' width='50' height='50' alt='mttbsmn' title='mttbsmn' /></a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='vertical-align: bottom; font-size: 10pt;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span style='position: relative; top: 2px;'><a href='https://inkbunny.net/mttbsmn' class='widget_userNameSmall'>mttbsmn</a></span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table>&#039;s gallery. Their content is primarily potty failures but several still end with the poor lady getting her underwear down, soaked as it is, and having partial success. Additionally I found that, because of the translation system that mttbsmn uses, it creates some interesting phrasing in their descriptions. As I&#039;ve learned I can be turned on more easily by words than pictures (hence why I love me the toilet stories of \r\n\t\t\t\t\t<table style='display: inline-block; vertical-align:bottom;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='vertical-align: middle; border: none;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style='width: 46px; height: 50px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a style='position: relative; border: 0px;' href='https://inkbunny.net/NovaRites'><img class='shadowedimage' style='border: 0px;' src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/400/400894_NovaRites_5282379_fetterfetti_commission_3_furry_halloween_2_.png' width='46' height='50' alt='NovaRites' title='NovaRites' /></a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<td style='vertical-align: bottom; font-size: 10pt;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span style='position: relative; top: 2px;'><a href='https://inkbunny.net/NovaRites' class='widget_userNameSmall'>NovaRites</a></span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</td>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</tr>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t</table> and others).<br /><br />Putting all that together I decided to do a story about such a subject. My other two story projects (the sequel to the first-person siblings story and the continuation of my Sonic story) are still out there but I&#039;ve been at a bit of a writer&#039;s block with both of them and a deviation could help clear my head. I&#039;m actually surprised how long this story ended up for something that was kind of meant as a side project, although I really like the quality of narration I was able to bring to it (I definitely feel like I&#039;m improving in my ability to set a scene or describe a character&#039;s thought process, although I still think I&#039;m weak in my ability to properly illustrate through words on a character&#039;s appearance). This story was composed over the course of about a week or so. The story ended up a bit more on the &quot;clinical&quot; side when it comes to describing the actual act, admittedly (so lacking a truly urophiliic slant, being more an un-kinky account of Lyn&#039;s ordeal), but I tried to stuff as much detail in there that could still get someone in the mood. Also, not being a girl, I do hope I properly captured both the feel of bursting to pee and the mechanics of how it happens for females (I&#039;ll admit a measure of naivete on my part, even for my age - I was actually looking at diagrams to ensure I really understood what was happening). I can account how these sensations feel for a guy but I won&#039;t speak to how a female would feel on the edge of pissing herself.<br /><br />For some backstory on this, I had originally intended for this story to be completely different. My original concept for this was to star a college girl who had recently hit the legal drinking age out with friends on a Friday night. Seeing as simply walking up to the bar and ordering a drink is still fresh and new to her she overdoes it and, in her drunken ways, hails a rideshare to go home and proceeds to piss all over the backseat. The reason I didn&#039;t pursue this story concept was, actually, a weird feeling of guilt. I didn&#039;t like the idea of playing up my protagonist as being so inconsiderate that she gets drunk enough to pee in someone else&#039;s car. I&#039;m sure it happens but for me it felt like a bridge too far. I would rather have had my protagonist be someone who is able to know better but simply ends up in a situation where that doesn&#039;t matter, hence why I went with a younger character who was too cavalier in her ability to hold it. Furthermore the idea of her sloshing herself in the privacy of her own home and doing so without anyone else around was so that most of the weight would come down inside her own mind without needing to introduce external characters to ramp up the humiliation. The denouement allows her shame to be found out but in a way that doesn&#039;t leave her feeling rotten.<br /><br />The whole idea of &quot;losing it right at the toilet&quot; came to me from, believe it or not, personal experience in my recent past. I had a similar loss of faculty when I had made it all the way to a bathroom and then got tripped up by my belt as the final straw that saw it end poorly (although that one was...uh...the other end &gt;_&gt; - I like to assume that someone could also lose control of their number 1 for the same reasons, though, assuming they were full up enough; mttbsmn even has some images in this vein that helped me frame what this would look like for my writing). Furthermore I even did some &quot;research&quot; during my course of writing this and, while I was just bored at work, let myself get more full than I would otherwise and took mental notes on the sensation to really dial it in (this is where the description of &quot;stinging&quot; and the notion that it&#039;s actually not as hard to distract yourself when you&#039;re urgently needing to go came from).<br /><br />Some other notes:<br /><br />- I was indecisive about the character&#039;s name. I almost wanted to change it to &quot;Heather&quot; shortly before it went live but ultimately decided to keep it as it is.<br />- Her name is short for &quot;Evelyn.&quot; She would have had a sign on the outside of her bedroom door that read as much.<br />- I wasn&#039;t entirely confident on her species either because I wasn&#039;t sure what the best way to describe a raccoon&#039;s fur getting wet would be like. Ultimately I feel like I sidestepped the matter.<br />- I don&#039;t entirely like the scenario I posed for why Lyn had to hold it for so long (something tells me if a school had a plumbing shutdown to that degree to where they could only offer so few toilets they really would have just cancelled class - my thinking was since the buses were already on the way into the school when they found the problem they couldn&#039;t just send those back even if they turned away the kids arriving by car). However I am taken back to a situation at a worksite where, for <em>months</em>, there was no water at all due to a water main issue and they had to use port-a-potties followed by a mobile toilet truck to accommodate the staff (thankfully I did not work there full time, only when I was needed there - I actually wrote this description on a day I was working there, although no more plumbing issues!), so perhaps that could have been reasonable for a one-day situation in a school.<br />- I didn&#039;t necessarily think of every species for the other characters along the way so if it goes unmentioned you can picture them as you want to.<br />- If you didn&#039;t work it out by the story cues, Lyn&#039;s schedule is Science, Computer Animation, P.E., Math (plus lunch), World Cultures, Web Design, and Language Arts. There was no intention behind this but I did have to make certain adjustments as I realized I had written conflicting info about where her classes would have been throughout the day and, surprisingly, by the end I had a working middle school class schedule.<br />- Using accurate terms for &quot;girl parts&quot; was very awkward for me as a guy writing a fetish story and still feels awkward for me when I read it back. &gt;_&gt;&#039; It doesn&#039;t feel like I have the &quot;right&quot; to use them if I&#039;m employing them in the service of seeding arousal in the reader. I would have preferred to use euphemisms in their stead but I felt like they were growing too repetitive the more I relied on them and &quot;pussy&quot; felt too raw for the tone I was setting so eventually I consigned myself to dipping into the anatomical glossary to keep my writing from being overly dry.<br /><br />Anyway, that&#039;s it. Leave some comments on what you think and hopefully I can get back to my other story projects now that I have this together.</span>",
  "writing": "[t][center]A Deluge of Errors[/center][/t]\n\n[i]Dammit, dammit...[/i] Lyn thought as she hurriedly packed her backpack. The chime of the school bell had just sounded to mark the conclusion of seventh period Language Arts class, ending her Thursday school day. She slung the red backpack around her shoulders and briskly exited the classroom before the rest of her class. She strode down the hallway with pensive determination, pulling her bag straps tightly over her shoulders as her ringed raccoon tail swinging back and forth in time with her gait.\n\nThe hallways began filling with other students of Baylor Hill Jr./Sr. High School. Lyn's Language Arts class was on the second floor of the three-story school building and she was rushing to the stairs to try to make it there ahead of anyone else, although in the back of her mind she figured all the kids on the first floor had gotten enough of a head start to make her rush moot. Nevertheless, she arrived at the stairs and descended with much haste before whipping around the corner and...\n\n\"No!\" she muttered as soon as she laid eyes on the line that had already formed outside of the girls' restroom on the first floor. The line had already queued five students deep, which left Lyn frustrated but mildly unsurprised. [i]Of course not...[/i] she thought, knowing that this was her one and only shot before having to ride this situation out until she was home. Lyn sighed defeatedly and pulled out her phone to look at the time. \"3:33 PM\" was displayed on the screen. Lyn looked back up at the line out the door and weighed her options. Since arriving the line had only shrunk by one girl but now the students from upstairs had also made their way to the ground level and another girl queued behind the line while she was making her decision. Lyn shook her head in defeat and put her phone back into her pocket before turning away from the line. She pulled the hem of her white t-shirt to straighten it out over her slim blue jeans and began walking in the opposite direction towards one of the school's back exits.\n\nHer breathing was labored, and she was on edge as she walked down the hall. Her gray fur felt like it was standing on end as the pressure on her pelvic area was grinding on her. After all, Lyn had been dealing with a perfect storm of a bad situation she recklessly exacerbated by her own inattentiveness. Upon arriving at school that morning the announcement had come over the PA system: the school was dealing with a plumbing incident. The water pressure in the pipes was low, meaning the toilets were having trouble flushing – especially problematic with the seven bathrooms that were found in the main campus. Because it had only been discovered right before the start of the day there wasn't anything the administration could do – it was too late to cancel class for the day. So, the best they could manage was opening only four of the restrooms, two apiece for the boys and girls. They chose the first and third floors to be the ones that would remain functional – the second floor would just have to make do. Even with the tight restriction they could only manage the availability of one toilet per restroom at that, which was an even bigger slowdown. The plumbing crew had arrived midday and promised to have things working by tomorrow but...that wasn't helping right now. The bathrooms all maintained long lines – five or even six students deep for both genders – between classes for the entire day because of such conditions.\n\nLyn was now outside at the school's bus loop. Unfortunately for her, being someone who had to ride the school bus home, she couldn't afford to wait in line for the bathrooms like the kids who would be picked up by their parents. Why did girls have to take so much longer to go than boys? It's such a hindrance at times like this. Sure both types of restroom had seen extensive waiting because of the limitations but it was the girls who always seemed to be in line longer than the boys. She eyed her school bus waiting in line to queue to pick up students for her route. Lucky for Lyn her stop was only the second on the route, so she was thankfully not at the end of the line. She breathed deeply and attempted to quell the sloshing tank within her abdomen in the hopes of making it home. Things were bad, definitely, but she wasn't completely out of endurance and, assuming a smooth ride, all would be set straight once she was sat upon that glorious porcelain bowl. But, no, now wasn't the time to be thinking of that – she would just be making it hard on herself; now was the time for distraction.\n\nLyn walked to the awning where the buses would pick up students. The two buses that were already at the front of the line had already picked up their students and were just waiting for the buses already leaving the school to exit onto the roadway. Her own bus was next in line so Lyn walked to spot where she expected her bus to board. She leaned against the wall of the school, her backpack sitting between the wall and her back, and pulled out her phone. She twisted her legs in an attempt to alleviate the feeling of about to burst as she opened the ClippSnipp app in an attempt to put her mind somewhere else and off her very precarious situation, swinging her long brown hair out of her eyes as she looked down at her phone with a flick of her head.\n\n\"Hey, Lyn!\" a voice called out shortly after she started to get into a video. Lyn was mildly perturbed at having to suddenly shift gears from having just started but she looked up from her phone. She met eyes with a long-haired grizzly girl wearing a red t-shirt with a gray jacket and a short skirt. It was her good friend and fellow eighth grader Jamie. She rode the buses home too, although she took a different route than Lyn's.\n\n\"Oh, hey, Jamie,\" Lyn said, putting her phone back into her pocket. Lyn figured having someone to talk to would probably also work to her keep her composure. \"How...how was your day?\" Lyn asked, resuming standing upright. The shift in position wasn't entirely without discomfort but Lyn accepted pretty much [i]any[/i] motion wasn't going to leave her feeling particularly stable at the moment.\n\n\"Fine,\" Jamie answered. \"You had that quiz in fourth period Math, right?\" she asked. Lyn nodded.\n\n\"Mr. Haines is pretty fair with his quizzes,\" Lyn said. \"I never feel caught off-guard by what he puts on them...as long as I did the assignment, anyway.\" She shifted her weight slightly to soothe the internal pressure she was feeling.\n\n\"Yeah, I agree,\" Jamie said in concurrence. \"Better than Mrs. Vale...I hate how random her pop quizzes feel. You lucked out by getting Ms. Cantwell for Science.\"\n\nLyn just nodded. She fidgeted in place once more, this time catching Jamie's eye.\n\n\"Are...you okay?\" her friend asked. Lyn's blue eyes widened that her subtle potty dance had not gone unnoticed. \"You haven't looked very...relaxed since I walked up.\"\n\nLyn looked around and bit her lip slightly. \"Uh...I guess not,\" she admitted. \"I...I really have to pee,\" she said, low and trying not to be overheard. \"Like...[i]really[/i],\" she emphasized, speaking in an even lower voice.\n\nJamie suddenly became empathetic. \"Oh, yeah!\" she said, maybe slightly louder than Lyn would have liked. Lyn gestured for her to keep it quiet. Jamie dropped the volume of her voice. \"Oh, yeah. All that stuff about the bathrooms from this morning. Gosh, they should have cancelled class if they were only going to open [i]two[/i] bathrooms in the whole school.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" Lyn said in agreement.\n\n\"I managed to avoid having a lot to drink today, thankfully,\" Jamie explained.\n\n\"Yeeeeah...I probably should have,\" Lyn said sheepishly, once again shifting her weight and slightly swaying. She wanted to explain more but by this point her yellow school bus had pulled up to the awning. Lyn sighed at the sight of the bus door opening. \"Hey, I'm gonna get on,\" she indicated to her friend. \"Maybe if I sit down it won't be as bad.\"\n\n\"Good luck,\" Jamie said, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder in an exaggerated show of support. Lyn simply sagged her head and turned on her heel to get onto the school bus. She could hear Jamie let out a small giggle from behind her, although she knew it wasn't in any malicious intent.\n\nLyn usually preferred to sit in the middle of the school bus on most days but today she pulled right into the front seat next to the door. Getting seated as soon as possible would give her options to find a suitable position and anything she could do to shorten the distance from the bus to her toilet was a measure she was willing to take. The rest of the bus began to pile in behind her and filled the remaining seats, the sound of chatter among the other students filling the air. Thankfully the students who rode her bus weren't very particular about where on the bus they sat, which was a change from her days riding the bus in elementary school where everyone had \"their spot\" and would get argumentative if someone else didn't adhere to the unspoken decorum. She backed herself right against the window in her seat then tucked her left leg on the other seat under her right leg, which remained dangling below the seat. This position seemed to put the least amount of pressure on her \"area\" and made the amount of effort she had to put into holding it as minimal as possible.\n\nLyn sighed, trying to ready herself for the journey home. It was only ten minutes from the school to her stop by school bus and they only had to stop once on the way over so that...should be feasible? The bus door shut and the driver shifted the bus into gear to pull out of the bus loop. The bus rattled as it began to lurch forward, something Lyn felt in her groin, but it wasn't enough to test her control. While she wouldn't describe the sensation she was feeling as painful, there was a persistent \"stinging\" that surrounded her most personal space. No matter what she did she couldn't totally rid herself of the sensation but at the same time it was somewhat easy to ignore once her body settled into a position.\n\nThe fox boy in the seat behind her leaned over to the front seat and looked down at Lyn in her outstretched position. \"Hey, you don't usually sit up here,\" he pointed out.\n\nLyn looked up at him and frowned. \"Mind your business, Devin,\" she retorted. She recognized him from third period P.E. as the seventh grader who was always a little on the nosy side. \"Can't a girl get a change of scenery every now and then?\" Lyn adjusted her position so her posture would give her a better angle to look Devin in the eye.\n\n\"Not like it matters to me,\" Devin said, nonchalantly. He adjusted his rimless glasses. \"I'm not the bus police or anything. I just don't usually see you sitting up here is all.\"\n\n\"It's...fun to be different?\" Lyn said, devoid of confidence in her words.\n\n\"You're taking up two seats,\" he pointed out, gesturing to Lyn's outstretched position.\n\n\"If no one sat here why can't I?\" Lyn asked him. \"It's not like the bus is full anyway.\" Devin just shrugged without giving a response. \"Don't you have something better to do than bug me?\"\n\n\"Hey, Dev!\" Someone from further back in the bus called out. \"You coming over later?\"\n\nDevin turned around at the sound of his name and didn't acknowledge Lyn's question. He called back \"Yeah, if my mom lets me after I get my homework done!\" Lyn took this opportunity to disengage from the extroverted fox and resume her concentration on her situation. She figured he'd likely end up asking why she returned to her usual seat the next day but that was for then and this is now.\n\nLyn adjusted her position to sit up even straighter, allowing her to turn towards the window of the bus. Once again, the sense of a bladder that had been pushed to its limit came back to remind her of the tightrope she was walking with her bodily functions. Lyn rested her hand on her waist, hoping to contain some of the pressure. The school bus had just exited the school's property and was now driving down the road, passing by housing developments and broken up by trees dotting the side of the road. It was a cool day in the early spring where the cold air had definitely moved out of the area but the warmer spring weather hadn't quite arrived in full either. It was still about a month from spring break, meaning the opportunity for a change in climate was still working its way through the region. Despite the constant looming feeling of bursting, Lyn found it somewhat easy to distract herself and take her mind off the pressure by simply looking at other things.\n\nAs the various pieces of suburban scenery blitzed past the window Lyn thought back to how she got into this mess. Obviously, she hadn't planned to come to school expecting the plumbing would be out but her current situation wasn't the result of being denied access to the toilet for the entire day, either. No, she thought she had the problem licked in P.E. After all, the gymnasium wasn't connected to the same plumbing pipeline as the main campus, meaning that the toilets at the gym were still working. So, after P.E. ended and she had changed back into her regular clothes she made sure to empty herself knowing that she'd have to go back to the main campus. Of course, with the situation as it was back at the main campus, she wasn't the only one who was eager to make sure they went back to class not carrying anything extra inside. That meant the line to use the locker room toilets had gotten pretty substantial in its own right but, seeing as the locker rooms also weren't limited by a single usable toilet like the restrooms at the main building, the students were able to file in and out in a timely manner. She had managed to make it to fourth period Math without missing the final bell – bathroom trip and all.\n\nBut, no, this wasn't the root of the problem. That came in fifth period, World Cultures. It was \"cultural cuisine exchange\" day in class where everyone was told to bring in a dish that represented a piece of some aspect of their personal history. It didn't have to be anything big – it was even okay to bring in something premade. All Mr. Lovell asked was whatever you considered \"your heritage\" to find some sort of food from it and share it with the class – complete with a short presentation on the connection the food had to your own history and culture. The task was worth the same as a quiz, making it the easiest quiz ever. As Lyn's dad had originally been German she chose to bring in a big box of German chocolates she ordered online. They went quick. Everyone else had also brought in different snacks from around the world to share with the class but it was Eduardo who was the linchpin of her current crisis.\n\nEduardo had brought in this [i]awesome[/i] fruit punch that was made by his [i]abuelita[/i]. Lyn wasn't even sure what was in it but apparently it was a cherished recipe from the \"old country\" that his grandmother and mother liked to break out for parties. Pretty much all the students wanted some and Lyn was no exception. She probably downed about four or five cups during the course of the class. They weren't really big cups but this [i]had[/i] come after lunch. So by this point she was packing away quite a bit of fluid on top of what she consumed during lunch. Lyn didn't even consider the situation with the toilets in the school when she decided to go all-in on that fruit punch...at least not until Karlee reminded her how much she had to drink on the way out of class.\n\n[i]\"Wow, you really loved that fruit punch,\"[/i] Karlee said to her as the students filed out of the classroom. [i]\"You sure you should have drank so much when the bathrooms aren't working?\"[/i]\n\nDangit. Lyn had to concede she didn't plan that very well. But, hey, she had peed after P.E., surely that should cover her until the end of the day. Plus, if she got lucky she might be able to swing into a toilet at some point before then. No worries...\n\nBy now the school bus had reached its first stop on its route – a white house inside a subdivision called \"Serene Acres\". A beaver boy with a green baseball cap and his older brother stood up at the back of the bus and began to make their way to the front. It was Sam, who was in the same year as Lyn, and his older brother Bill, who was in 10th grade. Sam bid the bus driver, a lion who liked to be called \"Mr. Eddie\", goodbye for the day.\n\n\"Don't be a stranger!\" Mr. Eddie said as Sam and his brother disembarked the bus and walked up their driveway. The bus door closed once more, now making Lyn's stop the next destination on the route. A resolution to her ordeal was within sight; the most epic pee she had in recent memory was rolling around in her mind. Oddly, entertaining the thought of her pants coming off and the blast of urine that was poised to echo in the porcelain cistern actually helped to take her mind off the straining bladder she was carrying with her. Once more the bus began to roll forward and the pang of her urine was felt once again down below. Lyn winced briefly before slightly shifting her legs, looking for any sign of ease that she could find, and resuming contemplating on her day.\n\nWhile she didn't exactly feel full-up after the end of fifth period, it was during sixth period Web Design that the urge began to build. It started out mild, nothing that would demand any concern at the time, but Lyn already understood that smooth sailing might not be in her future if she wasn't able to deal with it after class. She still had to endure the final class, Language Arts, if she wasn't able to find a way to fit in a trip to the bathroom beforehand. While she figured that maybe the staff would be more sympathetic towards students filing in late due to the current situation in the school, she also questioned what the most practical course of action would be. Maybe if she just put her mind into a focused mode it might allow her to make it through to the end of the day and not have to try to compete for the limited toilet access that was available to the rest of the student body.\n\nWith the end of sixth period Lyn entered the hallway of the third floor of the school – one of the floors where one of the two working girls' restrooms could be found. She gauged her current bladder sensation as she walked towards the restrooms. She definitely had to go but it wasn't [i]urgent[/i]. Might feel good to get it out but, assuming her body had produced all the pee that it could wring out of the beverages she had since lunch, it was manageable. Lyn rounded the corner of the hallway and got a glimpse of the restrooms. There were five girls standing in line outside the bathroom. She could tell the one at the front of the line – a yellow-furred lynx – was definitely showing signs of someone who needed to evacuate their bladder [i]now[/i]. Lyn wasn't at that point yet and didn't even feel as if she was close, despite her body telling her that a pee wouldn't necessarily be unwelcome either. As Lyn watched the line to use the bathroom a lemur that Lyn recognized as one of the 11th graders in her second period Computer Animation class exited the restroom and the long-suffering lynx blew through the door and to salvation. Meanwhile, another student took her place at the back of the queue for the girls' room. At that point Lyn committed to her decision: she was going to ride it out and just use the bathroom at home. It was only an hour and fifteen minutes, bus trip included, which should be within her capability to hold it.\n\nThat was not smart. Lyn should have taken the cue to deal with the issue while it was still at an early enough stage. Even if it meant waiting in line at least that would have been better than sitting in class, trying to listen to Mrs. Clarkson discuss the finer points of dos-and-don'ts in essay writing, all the while her insides twisted with the urge that she [i]needed[/i] to somehow accommodate more room in her bladder. The earlier hope that her body had finished generating urine was, in fact, merely hope and reality had set in that her tank was hitting its capacity but with still more to come. Lyn shifted in her seat several times during class, trying to stem any sensation of losing control in public, surrounded by other students. That was a [i]totally[/i] unacceptable outcome, even if the school's toilets weren't functional. None of [i]them[/i] had an accident that day in spite of present challenges so surely Lyn wouldn't be exempt from the consequences of her peers if she conceded to her urinary system and soaked herself at her desk. An agonized [i]Come on...come on...[/i] was ringing in her mind, begging for the final bell to strike and at least give her some chance at ending this on her own terms. Between the pleas for reprieve Lyn berated her own foolhardy bravado for not figuring out a more desirable course of action. Maybe she could have asked Mrs. Clarkson if she could use the restroom before class started – that would have been hard to turn down, seeing as she made an effort to arrive at class on time before bringing up the potential delay that using the school's facilities would incur. But, nope, now she was locked into her choice and just coming out and asking to use the bathroom now was too awkward by her eighth-grade sensibilities – everyone would know that she was on the verge of overflowing and would probably haunt her in some fashion; middle schoolers tend to be so unsympathetic. But she was also [i]so[/i] full – the pee feeling as if it spread from her bladder and into her urethra where it just sat, waiting for the command in her brain to relax the thin amount of muscle control that dammed up what was surely a fire hydrant's worth of fluid waste that was poised part her opening like a burst pip-\n\nSuddenly Lyn was jarred from her thoughts with a heavy intake of breath. A harsh jerking jolted the bus to an immediate halt and the sound of the bus's horn blared. \"HEY! School buses have the right of way!\" Mr. Eddie shouted. As the bus was pulling out of Serene Acres a car travelling in the opposite direction had whipped around a u-turn right in front of the school bus as it was turning, cutting it off in the lane. The bus was just at the beginning of its acceleration curve when the careless driver passed unlawfully in front of it, forcing Mr. Eddie to hit the brakes just as the bus was starting to pick up speed. All the students onboard had been thrown forward by the sudden drop in momentum and now a chorus of groans could be heard coming from all across the length of the bus. \"Sorry, kids,\" Mr. Eddie apologized to the students behind him. \"Some people just don't know how to deal with a school bus, it seems.\"\n\nBut Lyn didn't acknowledge Mr. Eddie, nor did she join in with the annoyed grunts and grumbles of her fellow students who had their heads rocked by the abrupt stop. Instead, she was locked in a silent panic, her eyes wide and dilated and her teeth gritted. [i]Oh SHIT SHIT SHIT!!![/i] were the words screaming in her head at that second, with it all somehow staying in her mind without escaping her mouth. As soon as the brakes had been slammed, Lyn was sitting ramrod-straight, her hands thrust between her thighs with incredible speed. The unexpected aggressive braking had caused the muscle control between her legs to momentarily lapse, catching Lyn off-guard as she was lost in thought and suddenly taking her back to the present, which delayed any response she could give to the sensation of unintentional peeing. She knew right then that there had been a breach, the reflex of using her hands to manually clamp her piss hole simply coming too slowly to intercept the rush of fluid. A burst of liquid had definitely escaped her slit and collected in her underwear. And it hadn't been just a tiny \"leak\", Lyn had felt [i]flow[/i] down there. It wasn't going to be a small dot of piss that she was dealing with; there had been a splash and at the very least her panties were going to be damp by the end of this journey. Lyn's eyes darted around rapidly in an instinctive check to see if anyone was looking in her direction, her hands nestled on her private parts and all the telltale indicators of someone dealing with an unsanctioned expression of their bladder. There was no way to hide it; her posture and harrowed facial expression would be plenty of evidence to an observer and Lyn was simply too frazzled to even try and mask it. However, all the other kids near her were too preoccupied with regaining their composure after the bus stopped to pay her any mind. That was a relief, at least she escaped the notice of anyone within eyeshot.\n\nAs Lyn's wave of panic began to subside and her mental clarity returned, she could now sense the clammy warmth that had pooled on the front of her labia and was pressing against her newly-doused underpants. Keeping her hands between her legs she moved them around slightly to check for any external signs of liquid that might have found its way outside her underwear. Upon feeling the inside of her right thigh Lyn was mortified that there was indeed a spot on her jeans that felt damp. She dreaded to look down, knowing that she now bore visible evidence of an accident in her pants. Lyn slowly spread her legs and glanced towards her lap, lifting her right hand out of the way just enough to make out where she felt the dampness. Indeed, there was a distinct dark patch around the spot on her inner thigh of her jeans where the released urine hadn't stayed within her panties, her jeans being so form-fitting resulting in constant contact between her underpants and outerwear while she was seated. However, it was small and located where only someone who was looking directly at it might notice. As her seat was in front of all the other students on the bus she wouldn't have to face any of them when it came time to stand up – her one saving grace to get out of this without risking any dignity.\n\nDespite the failure to save her clothing from becoming the impromptu receptacle for her piss, Lyn remained feeling as though she teetered on the edge of exploding and putting her panties through even more abuse. Whatever had sprayed out only represented a small quantity of the turbulent lake that was still sloshing inside her and waiting impatiently at the gate of her vagina. No longer wanting to lean back as she had before the screeching stop, Lyn now sat arched forward and her hands at her side, pressing down on the spaces next to her on the bus seat. She could feel her own breathing and her vision felt slightly out of focus, as though she were looking past the metal plate that separated her seat from the steps down to the exit, even though it offered nothing but its silvery surface to return her glare. [i]It...it's okay...I didn't completely piss myself...[/i] Lyn thought, trying to reassure her rattled self that the situation wasn't worse than it was.\n\n\"Lyn?\" a voice called out, snapping Lyn out of her daze. She looked around herself, trying to lock onto who called her name. \"Lyn? We're at your stop,\" they continued. Lyn realized it was Mr. Eddie talking to her. She looked out the window and saw the facade of her tan-colored two-story house.\n\n\"Oh, right...\" she said, blinking a few times and regaining her full presence of mind. \"Thanks...Mr. Eddie,\" she said to the driver. She stood up and slung her backpack over her right shoulder and began to sidle out from her seat.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" he asked, concerned about her somewhat delirious state.\n\n\"I'm fine, I'm fine!\" Lyn said, hastily, trying to assuage his concerns so she wasn't asked to delve any further. The door to the bus opened and she descended the stairs to the outside quickly. The door to the bus shut behind her and began to roll away. Lyn was standing alone at the base of her driveway.\n\nAs soon as the bus cleared her vicinity the urgency came roaring back to her abdomen and groin. Lyn's eyes flared up once more, being quickly reminded that she was still at the mercy of her need to badly urinate. She began to stride up the driveway briskly, reaching deep into her right pocket to fish her keys out. Being so close to home seemed to ramp up her desperation and it was taking its toll on her ability to think rationally. She fumbled the keys out of her pocket and began flipping them around the ring, trying to find the one to the front door of the house. [i]Not this one...no...NO...[/i] she thought as she pulled each key around the ring and passing the ones she knew weren't the one she wanted. By this point she was standing on the front porch in front of the front door and still trying to figure out which key would let her pass. Lyn's thighs were pressed together and she was slowly bobbing up and down by this point while shifting her weight constantly between her two feet. There was no room left – if she didn't relieve herself willingly, it was going to happen anyway and any protests her brain had that she wasn't positioned over a toilet would be ignored.\n\n[i]There![/i] she exclaimed in her head, finally finding the right key. Her keyring only contained about five or six keys, along with a couple of charms, but in her frenzied state Lyn was finding it difficult to process simple pieces of information with any clarity – she must have passed the key she needed at least once. She pinched the correct key between her thumb and index finger and uneasily inserted it into the lock of the door's deadbolt, her hand jittering. Her left hand was now pressed over her girl parts as hard as she could manage, being the last line of defense she had left. She turned the key and unlocked the door, grabbed the doorknob, and twisted it while slamming her shoulder on the door to get through. The white wooden door flew open into the foyer of her home. Lyn yanked the key out of the deadbolt and threw the door closed behind her without the slightest bit of grace, shutting it with a loud clap. She whipped her backpack off and threw it to the hardwood floor in the corner of the foyer.\n\nFinally home after all that she had been through, Lyn took no time whatsoever to run to the stairway to the second floor of the house. She darted up the stairs, skipping every odd step just to ascend as fast as her legs could carry her. Lyn bounded around the 90-degree turn in the staircase and sailed up the remaining steps to the landing on the second floor. The bathroom she shared with her little brother Cody was situated at the top of the steps, in the length of hall that separated their bedrooms with that of their parents' at the opposite end. The house was currently empty since her mother was still at work while her father had to pick up her brother from soccer practice after he got off work, meaning Lyn was the only occupant at the moment. A good situation to be in, given the potential for Cody's mischievous interference if he got wind of her current state.\n\nLyn shoved the door to the bathroom aside and finally laid eyes on the ultimate prize that she had been denied for so long. The white tank and bowl almost glistened in her eyes, having been coveted for hours upon hours of rising tension and urgency. The momentum of pushing the door returned the door back to a half-closed position behind her. It didn't matter, she was the only one at home, she could pee with impunity with the door open and let loose whatever vocalization of long-awaited relief as loud as she pleased once she was urinating under her own power. Lyn stepped in front of the toilet and lifted the seat cover to the back of the toilet, revealing the open basin of water below. It was finally time.\n\nBut it was not to be.\n\nMaking eye contact with the toilet caused something to stir. As soon as she lifted the seat cover and looked into the water resting at the bottom of the toilet bowl, a disconnection happened. Her urinary system had gone into business for itself. All her haste abruptly culminated in pee gushing at full flow before she had a chance to seat herself or even disrobe. \"NO! NO! NO!\" Lyn began crying out, horrified at suddenly being overcome by incontinence at the last possible second – seemingly triggered by the sight of the toilet. Her mind kept sending signals to her vaginal region to [i]do something[/i] but it was completely useless; there was no capping the gusher that was comprehensively saturating her panties and jeans, only feeling short pulses of flow with each failed attempt at stopping herself.\n\nLyn's mind was churning with a swarm of emotions over her involuntary bladder expulsion drenching her crotch and running down her legs. There was fear over the complete loss of control, anger that all this hurry and patience amounted to [i]nothing[/i] at what should have been the [i]very end[/i], frustration over her inability to stop peeing long enough to get her damn pants off first, and shame and embarrassment over witnessing the fundamental understanding instilled into her nine years prior that \"pee goes in the potty\" being washed away as this thirteen year-old girl was pissing full force into her pants. The cacophony of racing thoughts and emotion was also interfering with her basic motor skills, as Lyn's belt presented a challenge to undo. \"Come off, shit! COME OFF!\" she screamed at herself, confused at how something as simple as unbuckling a belt could be made so difficult at such a critical moment. Lyn didn't like swearing out loud, typically, but her inhibitions were taking a backseat at this unfortunate time. She yanked the end of her belt but with every attempt to pull the prong out of the hole it kept failing to clear and fully unbuckle. The bursting pee was still coming, which had turned the inner seams of her jeans a dark shade of blue in a storm of liquid waste, her panties long since beyond any limit to protect her. Why on today of all days did she choose to wear jeans instead of a skirt? All that a skirt would have required was reaching under and pulling down her underwear, maybe a slight hike for full clearance, and all of this would now be streaming into the toilet. But instead, she was locked in a fight with a freaking belt and her urethra didn't seem to care one bit.\n\nTears began to well in her panicked eyes; Lyn felt like breaking down and just giving up, letting it all finish where she stood because there was nothing more she could do. She wanted to resign herself, sobbing and legs covered in piss, with part of her believing she deserved this for making so many poor decisions that led to such a conclusion. But at the same time she refused to concede, somehow [i]needing[/i] to finish this with [i]some[/i] of this pee ending up in its proper place.\n\nFinally, after what seemed like an endless battle with her belt, the buckle finally came undone fully and the two ends separated. Lyn hurriedly unbuttoned the button on her soaked jeans and jerked the zipper down, her hands ragged and shaking. She reached into the waistband and shimmied them down to her calves, revealing her light-blue panties that were now considerably darkened by the surge of pee that had washed over them. Almost as if her body was mocking her, at this moment and after suffering such a grave indignity without any input on her part, her urine flow briefly cut off even though it was far, far too late – whatever message her brain needing to convey finally being read and heeded. Lyn slid her violently flooded panties down around her knees to expose her bare vagina, feeling the warmth of her own improperly deposited piss as she did. The scent of fresh urine was now noticeable in the room as Lyn moved her bushy raccoon's tail clear of the bowl opening and slammed her buttocks onto the toilet seat as fast as she could with this brief moment of urinary control she had been afforded.\n\nAs soon as she was seated the flow began once more with little persuasion on Lyn's part, this time falling into its proper receptacle. The sound of urine spraying on the sloped edge of the toilet bowl then cascading into the water below could be heard alongside Lyn's gasps of air and the typical hiss of a bladder in relief. She was lightheaded, barely able to comprehend anything, only the instinctive action of pissing. She needed a moment to regain any sense of composure to process her present state of mind. Lyn sat with her hands on the edge of the seat and her legs outstretched, leaning back against the seat cover; not a position she usually assumed whilst peeing but one that seemed necessary now with the wetness that coated her lower half. The air conditioning was now cooling her damp clothes and fur, bringing them down from her body temperature to the surrounding climate and giving her a cold sensation that ran up her moist legs. Lyn looked down at her groin, somewhat dumbfounded that there was still anything left that needed to be voided into the toilet after the preceding salvo that had laid waste to her blue jeans. She observed the golden stream being jettisoned from between her legs. With her legs spread as they were the lips of her girlhood were modestly parted, allowing her to see the cavity where her urine was flowing from. It exited as a vertical spray that showed some continuity but was mostly a disorderly jet of amber fluid pouring from her. The gray fur around her pelvis was matted with her waste and it ran all the way down the exposed parts of her legs. She could feel a slight stickiness beginning to take form as it all continued to drop in temperature with the exposure to the cooler air of the house.\n\nEventually Lyn's pee stream began to lose strength, no longer spraying onto the porcelain walls of the toilet but now directly into the urine-water mix that resided in the bowl. The signature trickle of urine splashing down onto the surface rang out through the tiled bathroom. It was surprising, almost fascinating, how much she had in her that needed to be relieved. Despite how much was lost during the initial flooding of her jeans what she was still able to evacuate into the toilet rivaled any of her usual trips to the bathroom. Altogether Lyn figured she must have spent about a minute total peeing, which was remarkable. This was the culmination of her overindulgence of fruit punch at school and the foolishness of doing so on a day where toilet access was not guaranteed, mandating that she had to bring it all home with her and ending in a blur of pee-soaked clothes and a deep sense of shame and regret. She continued to look down as the last remaining drops fell from her vagina and into the toilet bowl. Lyn cycled her pelvic muscles looking for any remaining fluid that had yet to exit her urinary tract. A small pulse of pee emerged from her opening in response before she certifiably felt empty.\n\nLyn looked over at the roll of toilet paper to her right. For a moment she considered wiping herself down as she usually would but realized that, with all the piss that had gone elsewhere besides the front of her groin, that more extensive measures would have to be taken than merely relying on toilet paper. Her panties guiding the liquid across her crotch as it filled with urine had allowed the deluge to reach her butt and share the clammy dampness over there as well. Still seated on the toilet Lyn gingerly used her feet to slide off her white and pink sneakers without untying the laces, exposing her white socks underneath. Despite the concentration of urine that had made its way down her legs, her socks were only damp at the cuffs and not any further down than the tops of her ankles, meaning the insoles of her sneakers had evaded any of the liquid spreading that far. This was a relief, as trying to clean pee out of those would be a considerable chore and could have potentially ruined them. Mom would [i]not[/i] be pleased to find out she had to throw away the sneakers she just bought for that school year because her thirteen year-old daughter had failed to reach a toilet in time.\n\nLyn repeated the action of using her feet to slide her socks off, exposing her clawed raccoon toes underneath, and kicked them aside. Now without her shoes blocking the way, her jeans began to come off more easily. Lyn pulled her flooded jeans off and tossed them into a heap next to the shower from her seated position. Finally, she slid her soaked blue panties around her ankles and off her legs then tossed them on top of her jeans, leaving her totally bottomless. The lack of wet pants against Lyn's legs felt freeing and she sighed deeply, keeping her glance fixed on her sopping garments that sat opposite the toilet.\n\nLyn stood up from the toilet and turned around. She looked into the bowl and at the yellowed water within, still slightly bubbly from being direly urinated into. She gave the handle a push and the contents swirled down the drain and was replaced with clear water once more. Lyn walked over to where she had kicked her socks to and picked them up, putting them onto the rest of the clothing she had removed. From there she also removed her white t-shirt and threw it onto the same pile, which left her entirely unclothed. Lyn reached into the bathtub and turned the knob, starting the water flowing out of the spigot. She adjusted it until the warmth was a level she was comfortable with then turned on the shower, rerouting the flow from the spigot to the shower head. She stepped into the raining water and pulled the shower curtain closed.\n\nAs she stood under the pouring water, Lyn leaned her hand on the wall of the shower and looked down at the water that was circling down the drain. With the crisis more-or-less over, she finally had a chance to reflect on the whole fiasco from the start to the finish. She knew better, she knew this wasn’t something that had to happen. But she chose to press onwards in her own way and paid for it. Sure no one [i]saw[/i] her commit one of the most egregious acts of indignity one could perpetrate upon themselves but [i]she[/i] would know it happened, and she would know [i]why[/i] it happened. Lyn thought back to when she was witness to Cody's trials in learning to use the toilet. How her parents would tell him \"Don’t wait until you’ve GOT to go before you go!\" As a smug eight year-old who had already passed potty training long before Lyn could remember herself condescendingly giggling at her younger sibling being caught out by not heeding his body’s call to relieve itself until he was so full that he just went wherever he currently stood, pouring his contents into his training pants and having to tearfully hear out mom or dad tell him off as they changed him for not being thoughtful with his need to pee. But here Lyn was, at an age [i]well[/i] in advance of that, taking an emergency shower because [i]she[/i] was unable to follow such a simple guideline of taking care of business before it gets to be too much to bear. The plumbing being down at school could explain it, perhaps, but she knew in her head that it was merely an excuse for being too proud and too confident that she was in enough control of her situation to avert any incidents – a recipe for mishap.\n\nDeciding to finally move on from all this, Lyn rinsed off as best she could, focusing her efforts onto her lower half to cleanse her fur of the undignified act she wrought upon it. Now feeling less gross, Lyn shut off the shower and pulled the curtain back. She stepped out from the bathtub and grabbed a towel to dry off. She took extra care to towel off and make sure her fur was free of any evidence of the earlier catastrophe. Once dry she looked down at her wet pants on the floor, realizing that her belt was still looped through the waist and that she hadn’t removed her phone when she was in such a rush to get them down in the first place. Lyn winced at the thought of having to interact with her soiled clothing again but she had to deal with it somehow. She gingerly hooked her left index finger into one of the belt loops and lifted the pants with as little contact as possible, cringing at the sight of the dark staining that was still very evident all down the legs – in part due to the simple fact of what caused the dark splotch but also because looking at her drenched jeans forced her to confront the outcome of her inability to control herself. She slid her brown belt out of the loops then reached into the left pocket and extracted her cell phone, which thankfully had been outside of the \"tidal zone\". The extra weight added by her \"addition\" was noticeable as she held the messy pants aloft before dropping them back onto the floor in the same heap. Her phone now in hand she took it out of standby and looked at now in hand she took it out of standby and looked at screen. \"4:14 PM\" it read, meaning she was about an hour-and-a-half from anyone in her family coming home. Maybe it was enough time for her to cover this all up without anyone being the wiser...\n\nLyn darted to her bedroom, still in the nude, and located a fresh pair of panties out of her drawer. They were white with a pink waistband and leg cuffs. She quickly slid them on then pulled a pair of pink cotton shorts out of a lower drawer, pulling them over her underpants just as swiftly with a satisfying \"snap\" of the elastic band as her puffy raccoon's tail popped out the hole in the rear. Finally, she went to her closet and grabbed a light blue t-shirt she had been given when she went to summer camp a few years ago. It had a picture of a pine tree set against the background of a bright yellow sun coming over the horizon and the name \"Camp Sunrise\" written below. She slipped on the shirt and was now fully dressed. Lyn gave herself a minute of pause after putting on her new clothes to decide what course of action she should take to try and make this all go away. She walked back down the hall to the bathroom and took a quick look around to weigh what options she had for hiding the evidence. Seeing her laundry hamper that was next to her brother's she went over and peered inside, seeing a modest pile of clothes within. It wouldn't normally be enough to consider doing a wash load for but it would give her an excuse to toss her soiled garments in with them. Normally her mother did her laundry with her brother's but there had been times that she had taken care of it herself too – such as when her mom had caught a cold a couple of months ago.\n\nThis seemed like the only real choice she had so Lyn bundled up the wet clothes along with the t-shirt she wore to school that day and tossed them into the hamper along with the rest of her clothes then took the hamper downstairs to the garage, where the laundry machines were. Lyn looked over the dial on the face of the washer. She wanted to pick a cycle that could be done fast enough so she'd be able to throw the clothes into the dryer before her mom got home. Avoiding arousing suspicion if she was caught going back and forth into the garage without a good reason was her main concern. She set the dial to a light cycle then poured all her clothes into the front-load drum. Atop the washing machine was a plastic container of detergent pods. Lyn opened the child-safe cap and reached inside, the pungent scent of artificial flowers rising from the pile of pods within. Grabbing a pod, she tossed it into the drum on top of the loaded clothes then shut the front door of the washer and started the wash cycle before returning the plastic cap to the container, clicking it closed. Lyn stood up and looked through the window of the washer at the pile of clothes as water was pouring in over them, satisfied that she had done whatever she could to avert being called out for her \"potty failure\". She picked up her now-empty hamper and returned it to the upstairs bathroom.\n\n[center][i]*****[/i][/center]\nA few hours later, after her parents had come home and the family had eaten dinner, Lyn was up in her room putting together a web page for her Web Design class on her laptop. She had managed to get her clothes into the dryer before her mother had come home from work and her dad didn't say anything about the dryer running when he brought Cody home with him, even though they had all walked through the garage at one point. So as far as Lyn was concerned no one in the household had worked out what had happened before they got home. As she clicked back and forth between the source code to her web page and the product that she was building a knock came on the door behind her. Lyn typically left her door partially closed but not fully shut, in case her parents were calling for her downstairs.\n\n\"Come in!\" Lyn said, not turning away from her computer screen. \"Unless it's Cody, then I'm busy!\"\n\n\"Lyn?\" A female voice from the other side of the door called her name.\n\n\"Hi, mom,\" Lyn responded, still diligently working on her homework. Her mother pushed the door open and stood in the doorway of Lyn's bedroom. Lyn reached a good stopping point in her homework and swiveled her office chair around to face away from her desk and towards the door. \"What's up?\"\n\n\"Were you doing homework?\" Her mother asked. Lyn nodded.\n\n\"Web Design,\" Lyn said, rolling her chair to the side and showing her mother what was on her screen. \"We've got a project due on Monday.\"\n\nLyn's mother nodded in response. \"I won't be long,\" she assured her daughter. Lyn could tell her mother had something on her mind when she came to see her.\n\n\"Everything okay?\" Lyn said, somewhat reticently.\n\n\"Did you do your own laundry?\" Her mother asked, pointing towards the garage.\n\nLyn's eyes began to twitch slightly. She blinked a few times in rapid succession to try to subdue the reflexive reaction. \"Uh...yeah,\" she said, unease building in her voice.\n\n\"It's only Thursday, though,\" her mother pointed out. \"I doubt you'd normally have enough clothes by today to do a load.\" Her mom usually being the reason her laundry gets done meant that Lyn was aware her mother could pick out any unusual change in that pattern. But why was she even asking? How did she know that Lyn already took it upon herself to do a load of laundry on a day that wasn't typical?\n\n\"Well...I...\" Lyn stammered, trying to come up with some feasible explanation for why the laundry was done sooner than usual. \"I spilled a drink on my shirt and had to wash it off!\" She contrived. It wasn't a [i]great[/i] explanation – she could have simply tossed that shirt into the laundry without needing to do a load right there and then – but at least it was something that could answer the question.\n\nHer mother reached around the edge of the doorway and pulled out a basket of her clothes and laid it on the floor of her bedroom. All the clothes were neatly folded already, courtesy of her mom. So that was why she already knew that the laundry had been done. \"Um...thanks for folding my stuff! You didn't have to! Heh...\" Lyn said with a nervous laugh, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. The tension was now evident in her voice and she could feel her fur starting to tingle, guilt rising on her skin. Lyn had hoped that she could leave the clothes in the dryer for an extra day and take care of them tomorrow afternoon after school.\n\nLyn's mother frowned that her daughter didn't want to go into any more detail, clearly sensing that she was trying to obscure something. \"Lyn...is that the only reason you did your laundry so early?\" Her mother inquired.\n\n\"Mm...yup!\" Lyn said, tersely, trying to think of some way to bail out and avoid having her cover blown.\n\nHer mother looked down the hallway and sighed before stepping into Lyn's room and closing the door behind her. \"Lyn...I know something's wrong,\" she said with her arms folded.\n\nLyn figured as much. After all, what reason would her mother have to examine the dryer in the first place? She sat silently and glanced over at a movie poster that hung on her wall to her right, trying to avoid making eye contact with her mom and making this any harder on herself.\n\n\"Cody told me your bathroom smelled kind of musty when he was in there earlier,\" she explained. Crap. Lyn realized that either her wet clothes or her dripping legs had left traces of pee on the floor that she never cleaned up and had become stagnant in the hours since she returned home. \"I thought he was just referring to something he left behind so he wouldn't be blamed for it.\" Despite being eight, Cody's aim wasn't always true when he stood before the toilet and could sometimes splash the back of the seat if he was being particularly lackadaisical. \"But that's when I saw your empty hamper and went to the garage,\" her mother continued, explaining how she had deduced that her daughter's laundry had already been washed. Her mother began to utter the question Lyn had dreaded to hear: \"Lyn...did you...\"\n\nLyn knew she was backed into a corner. Her mom had worked out that she was the source of the pee smell in the bathroom and that it had happened because she had an accident in there. \"Mom! I-I can explain!\" Lyn blurted out before her mother could finish her inquiry, her voice wracked with a plea for sympathy and compassion. \"The bathrooms at school! They didn't work all day and...and...\" She was finding it difficult to justify herself to her mother. The tears she thought she had put behind her during the heat of her crisis returned and now were threatening to spill over, leaving her in tizzy of bawling and fey rationalizations on how someone of her age had managed to wet their pants. \"But...I drank too much and...didn't...and the bus...\" Lyn trailed off with a sniff. It was pointless; there were too many pieces that she had to take responsibility for to try and foist it all on the failed plumbing at the school campus. Lyn threw her face into her hands to try and hide that she was about to start sobbing openly. However, a soft touch from her mother's hand rested on her shoulder and Lyn lifted her head, her eyes starting to redden from her frayed emotional state. Her mom was standing above her with a gentle smile. She had the understanding on her face that Lyn was hoping to see. Her mom crouched down so she could look her daughter in the eyes at the height of the swivel chair.\n\n\"Does...does Cody know?\" Lyn asked, regaining a slight bit of composure, thinking the only thing left was finding out whether her younger brother was also aware that his big sister had pissed all over herself in their communal bathroom. That would be gut-wrenching but perhaps something that she had to be willing to accept.\n\n\"Mm...maybe?\" Her mother answered, some slight uncertainty in her voice. \"I certainly won't be telling him, but...it wouldn't exactly be a stretch to work out,\" she told her daughter, not wanting to sugarcoat the reality. Lyn's head sagged down in resignation, readying her mind for the impending teasing that was sure to come in the following days once she had to face Cody. Normally she could just ignore it or blast something back of her own but what defense would she have when an eight year-old rightfully tells a thirteen year-old that [i]they[/i] hadn't had an accident since they were potty trained? Her mother stood back up and went over to her bed and sat on the mattress. She crossed her legs and leaned over on her left arm for support. Lyn rotated her seat in the direction of her bed to continue facing her mom.\n\nLyn's mom had a coy grin on her face. Lyn wiped away the tears that were still in her eyes. \"Mom...?\" She said, curious why her mother seemed to be so chill at a time like this.\n\n\"Wanna know a secret?\" Her mother said, leaning towards her daughter and still smiling with sly intent. \"I had the same thing happen to me at your age.\"\n\nLyn's eyes widened. No way. Her mom had the same experience as her? \"Seriously?!\" Lyn was incredulous that her mother was admitting to such a thing.\n\nHer mom closed her eyes and slowly nodded. \"Yep. Same thing,\" she reaffirmed in no uncertain terms. \"Happened when I was coming home from camp over the summer.\" Lyn moved to the edge of her seat, eager to know more about her mother's own dalliance with an uncooperative bladder.\n\n\"We had stopped for a break on the way back from summer camp.\" Lyn's mom began. \"I was a junior counselor at the camp and at the Luc-ees we stopped at I bought a big bottle of that sports drink...oh what was it...'Pro Ade', that's it. I drank it all the way home but we were like two hours away and I had forgotten I didn't use the bathroom at the camp or the Luc-ees when I did so by the time the bus got us home I was [i]totally[/i] full.\"\n\nLyn listened intently, feeling increasingly at ease that her mother was so willing to be open with her. \"So when we got there, Grandma Lidia was the one to pick me up,\" her mother continued her story. \"I was [i]bursting[/i] by that point but I managed to hold it together until we were actually at home. I ran into the bathroom but didn't realize how much trouble I was going to have with my belt.\" Exactly like what Lyn had experienced. Her mom wasn't exaggerating; she really had gone through the same ordeal as her daughter.\n\n\"Couldn't get it off in time, wound up covered in hot pee,\" her mom said frankly. \"All over my legs, it was so miserable and humiliating. Your grandma yelled at me for being so foolish at my age and my older brother – your Uncle Dillon – didn't let me hear the end of it for [i]weeks[/i]. He even told his friends how his thirteen year-old sister wet her pants standing right in front of the toilet.\"\n\nLyn now was able to rationalize why her mom had been so sympathetic. Not only had she gone through the same thing, but her parents hadn't been nearly as compassionate about it, probably because they couldn't relate. She wasn't going to be a hypocrite and refused to put Lyn through the same torture, instead sharing the relatable experience she once had to assure her that mistakes can happen. \"Wow...\" Lyn said, still flabbergasted that her mom was both so open and so much alike. \"I can't believe [i]you[/i]...\"\n\nHer mother giggled slightly. \"Don't go telling your dad,\" she joked. Lyn nodded with a smile.\n\n\"As long as you don't either!\" Lyn said back. Her mother covered her smile and laughed openly. She lifted her right hand in a solemn vow that neither incident was going to leave the confines of Lyn's room. Lyn stood up and her mother responded in kind. The two hugged in the middle of Lyn's room.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mom,\" Lyn said, apologizing for her bad choices that day.\n\n\"It's okay, sweetie,\" her mother reassured her. \"It was actually kind of nice to admit that after all these years to someone who could relate. Kind of like closure.\" The pair parted their embrace. Lyn's mother gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head. \"Love you, Lyn,\" she told her.\n\n\"You too, Mom,\" Lyn said to her mother as her mother turned to leave her bedroom.\n\nLyn's mother twisted the handle to the bedroom door and swung it open. \"Hey, put away your laundry!\" She said with a slightly smug smile, pointing to the laundry basket she had left on the floor. Lyn rolled her eyes and just gave a relaxed smile. \"Then take care of the 'you-know-what' in your bathroom,\" her mother finished with a bob of her head in the direction of the bathroom. Lyn nodded and began to unload the laundry basket as her mother disappeared beyond the edge of the door frame.",
  "writing_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'><span class='font_title'><div class='align_center'>A Deluge of Errors</div></span><br /><br /><em>Dammit, dammit...</em> Lyn thought as she hurriedly packed her backpack. The chime of the school bell had just sounded to mark the conclusion of seventh period Language Arts class, ending her Thursday school day. She slung the red backpack around her shoulders and briskly exited the classroom before the rest of her class. She strode down the hallway with pensive determination, pulling her bag straps tightly over her shoulders as her ringed raccoon tail swinging back and forth in time with her gait.<br /><br />The hallways began filling with other students of Baylor Hill Jr./Sr. High School. Lyn&#039;s Language Arts class was on the second floor of the three-story school building and she was rushing to the stairs to try to make it there ahead of anyone else, although in the back of her mind she figured all the kids on the first floor had gotten enough of a head start to make her rush moot. Nevertheless, she arrived at the stairs and descended with much haste before whipping around the corner and...<br /><br />&quot;No!&quot; she muttered as soon as she laid eyes on the line that had already formed outside of the girls&#039; restroom on the first floor. The line had already queued five students deep, which left Lyn frustrated but mildly unsurprised. <em>Of course not...</em> she thought, knowing that this was her one and only shot before having to ride this situation out until she was home. Lyn sighed defeatedly and pulled out her phone to look at the time. &quot;3:33 PM&quot; was displayed on the screen. Lyn looked back up at the line out the door and weighed her options. Since arriving the line had only shrunk by one girl but now the students from upstairs had also made their way to the ground level and another girl queued behind the line while she was making her decision. Lyn shook her head in defeat and put her phone back into her pocket before turning away from the line. She pulled the hem of her white t-shirt to straighten it out over her slim blue jeans and began walking in the opposite direction towards one of the school&#039;s back exits.<br /><br />Her breathing was labored, and she was on edge as she walked down the hall. Her gray fur felt like it was standing on end as the pressure on her pelvic area was grinding on her. After all, Lyn had been dealing with a perfect storm of a bad situation she recklessly exacerbated by her own inattentiveness. Upon arriving at school that morning the announcement had come over the PA system: the school was dealing with a plumbing incident. The water pressure in the pipes was low, meaning the toilets were having trouble flushing &ndash; especially problematic with the seven bathrooms that were found in the main campus. Because it had only been discovered right before the start of the day there wasn&#039;t anything the administration could do &ndash; it was too late to cancel class for the day. So, the best they could manage was opening only four of the restrooms, two apiece for the boys and girls. They chose the first and third floors to be the ones that would remain functional &ndash; the second floor would just have to make do. Even with the tight restriction they could only manage the availability of one toilet per restroom at that, which was an even bigger slowdown. The plumbing crew had arrived midday and promised to have things working by tomorrow but...that wasn&#039;t helping right now. The bathrooms all maintained long lines &ndash; five or even six students deep for both genders &ndash; between classes for the entire day because of such conditions.<br /><br />Lyn was now outside at the school&#039;s bus loop. Unfortunately for her, being someone who had to ride the school bus home, she couldn&#039;t afford to wait in line for the bathrooms like the kids who would be picked up by their parents. Why did girls have to take so much longer to go than boys? It&#039;s such a hindrance at times like this. Sure both types of restroom had seen extensive waiting because of the limitations but it was the girls who always seemed to be in line longer than the boys. She eyed her school bus waiting in line to queue to pick up students for her route. Lucky for Lyn her stop was only the second on the route, so she was thankfully not at the end of the line. She breathed deeply and attempted to quell the sloshing tank within her abdomen in the hopes of making it home. Things were bad, definitely, but she wasn&#039;t completely out of endurance and, assuming a smooth ride, all would be set straight once she was sat upon that glorious porcelain bowl. But, no, now wasn&#039;t the time to be thinking of that &ndash; she would just be making it hard on herself; now was the time for distraction.<br /><br />Lyn walked to the awning where the buses would pick up students. The two buses that were already at the front of the line had already picked up their students and were just waiting for the buses already leaving the school to exit onto the roadway. Her own bus was next in line so Lyn walked to spot where she expected her bus to board. She leaned against the wall of the school, her backpack sitting between the wall and her back, and pulled out her phone. She twisted her legs in an attempt to alleviate the feeling of about to burst as she opened the ClippSnipp app in an attempt to put her mind somewhere else and off her very precarious situation, swinging her long brown hair out of her eyes as she looked down at her phone with a flick of her head.<br /><br />&quot;Hey, Lyn!&quot; a voice called out shortly after she started to get into a video. Lyn was mildly perturbed at having to suddenly shift gears from having just started but she looked up from her phone. She met eyes with a long-haired grizzly girl wearing a red t-shirt with a gray jacket and a short skirt. It was her good friend and fellow eighth grader Jamie. She rode the buses home too, although she took a different route than Lyn&#039;s.<br /><br />&quot;Oh, hey, Jamie,&quot; Lyn said, putting her phone back into her pocket. Lyn figured having someone to talk to would probably also work to her keep her composure. &quot;How...how was your day?&quot; Lyn asked, resuming standing upright. The shift in position wasn&#039;t entirely without discomfort but Lyn accepted pretty much <em>any</em> motion wasn&#039;t going to leave her feeling particularly stable at the moment.<br /><br />&quot;Fine,&quot; Jamie answered. &quot;You had that quiz in fourth period Math, right?&quot; she asked. Lyn nodded.<br /><br />&quot;Mr. Haines is pretty fair with his quizzes,&quot; Lyn said. &quot;I never feel caught off-guard by what he puts on them...as long as I did the assignment, anyway.&quot; She shifted her weight slightly to soothe the internal pressure she was feeling.<br /><br />&quot;Yeah, I agree,&quot; Jamie said in concurrence. &quot;Better than Mrs. Vale...I hate how random her pop quizzes feel. You lucked out by getting Ms. Cantwell for Science.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn just nodded. She fidgeted in place once more, this time catching Jamie&#039;s eye.<br /><br />&quot;Are...you okay?&quot; her friend asked. Lyn&#039;s blue eyes widened that her subtle potty dance had not gone unnoticed. &quot;You haven&#039;t looked very...relaxed since I walked up.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn looked around and bit her lip slightly. &quot;Uh...I guess not,&quot; she admitted. &quot;I...I really have to pee,&quot; she said, low and trying not to be overheard. &quot;Like...<em>really</em>,&quot; she emphasized, speaking in an even lower voice.<br /><br />Jamie suddenly became empathetic. &quot;Oh, yeah!&quot; she said, maybe slightly louder than Lyn would have liked. Lyn gestured for her to keep it quiet. Jamie dropped the volume of her voice. &quot;Oh, yeah. All that stuff about the bathrooms from this morning. Gosh, they should have cancelled class if they were only going to open <em>two</em> bathrooms in the whole school.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Tell me about it,&quot; Lyn said in agreement.<br /><br />&quot;I managed to avoid having a lot to drink today, thankfully,&quot; Jamie explained.<br /><br />&quot;Yeeeeah...I probably should have,&quot; Lyn said sheepishly, once again shifting her weight and slightly swaying. She wanted to explain more but by this point her yellow school bus had pulled up to the awning. Lyn sighed at the sight of the bus door opening. &quot;Hey, I&#039;m gonna get on,&quot; she indicated to her friend. &quot;Maybe if I sit down it won&#039;t be as bad.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Good luck,&quot; Jamie said, putting her hand on her friend&#039;s shoulder in an exaggerated show of support. Lyn simply sagged her head and turned on her heel to get onto the school bus. She could hear Jamie let out a small giggle from behind her, although she knew it wasn&#039;t in any malicious intent.<br /><br />Lyn usually preferred to sit in the middle of the school bus on most days but today she pulled right into the front seat next to the door. Getting seated as soon as possible would give her options to find a suitable position and anything she could do to shorten the distance from the bus to her toilet was a measure she was willing to take. The rest of the bus began to pile in behind her and filled the remaining seats, the sound of chatter among the other students filling the air. Thankfully the students who rode her bus weren&#039;t very particular about where on the bus they sat, which was a change from her days riding the bus in elementary school where everyone had &quot;their spot&quot; and would get argumentative if someone else didn&#039;t adhere to the unspoken decorum. She backed herself right against the window in her seat then tucked her left leg on the other seat under her right leg, which remained dangling below the seat. This position seemed to put the least amount of pressure on her &quot;area&quot; and made the amount of effort she had to put into holding it as minimal as possible.<br /><br />Lyn sighed, trying to ready herself for the journey home. It was only ten minutes from the school to her stop by school bus and they only had to stop once on the way over so that...should be feasible? The bus door shut and the driver shifted the bus into gear to pull out of the bus loop. The bus rattled as it began to lurch forward, something Lyn felt in her groin, but it wasn&#039;t enough to test her control. While she wouldn&#039;t describe the sensation she was feeling as painful, there was a persistent &quot;stinging&quot; that surrounded her most personal space. No matter what she did she couldn&#039;t totally rid herself of the sensation but at the same time it was somewhat easy to ignore once her body settled into a position.<br /><br />The fox boy in the seat behind her leaned over to the front seat and looked down at Lyn in her outstretched position. &quot;Hey, you don&#039;t usually sit up here,&quot; he pointed out.<br /><br />Lyn looked up at him and frowned. &quot;Mind your business, Devin,&quot; she retorted. She recognized him from third period P.E. as the seventh grader who was always a little on the nosy side. &quot;Can&#039;t a girl get a change of scenery every now and then?&quot; Lyn adjusted her position so her posture would give her a better angle to look Devin in the eye.<br /><br />&quot;Not like it matters to me,&quot; Devin said, nonchalantly. He adjusted his rimless glasses. &quot;I&#039;m not the bus police or anything. I just don&#039;t usually see you sitting up here is all.&quot;<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s...fun to be different?&quot; Lyn said, devoid of confidence in her words.<br /><br />&quot;You&#039;re taking up two seats,&quot; he pointed out, gesturing to Lyn&#039;s outstretched position.<br /><br />&quot;If no one sat here why can&#039;t I?&quot; Lyn asked him. &quot;It&#039;s not like the bus is full anyway.&quot; Devin just shrugged without giving a response. &quot;Don&#039;t you have something better to do than bug me?&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Hey, Dev!&quot; Someone from further back in the bus called out. &quot;You coming over later?&quot;<br /><br />Devin turned around at the sound of his name and didn&#039;t acknowledge Lyn&#039;s question. He called back &quot;Yeah, if my mom lets me after I get my homework done!&quot; Lyn took this opportunity to disengage from the extroverted fox and resume her concentration on her situation. She figured he&#039;d likely end up asking why she returned to her usual seat the next day but that was for then and this is now.<br /><br />Lyn adjusted her position to sit up even straighter, allowing her to turn towards the window of the bus. Once again, the sense of a bladder that had been pushed to its limit came back to remind her of the tightrope she was walking with her bodily functions. Lyn rested her hand on her waist, hoping to contain some of the pressure. The school bus had just exited the school&#039;s property and was now driving down the road, passing by housing developments and broken up by trees dotting the side of the road. It was a cool day in the early spring where the cold air had definitely moved out of the area but the warmer spring weather hadn&#039;t quite arrived in full either. It was still about a month from spring break, meaning the opportunity for a change in climate was still working its way through the region. Despite the constant looming feeling of bursting, Lyn found it somewhat easy to distract herself and take her mind off the pressure by simply looking at other things.<br /><br />As the various pieces of suburban scenery blitzed past the window Lyn thought back to how she got into this mess. Obviously, she hadn&#039;t planned to come to school expecting the plumbing would be out but her current situation wasn&#039;t the result of being denied access to the toilet for the entire day, either. No, she thought she had the problem licked in P.E. After all, the gymnasium wasn&#039;t connected to the same plumbing pipeline as the main campus, meaning that the toilets at the gym were still working. So, after P.E. ended and she had changed back into her regular clothes she made sure to empty herself knowing that she&#039;d have to go back to the main campus. Of course, with the situation as it was back at the main campus, she wasn&#039;t the only one who was eager to make sure they went back to class not carrying anything extra inside. That meant the line to use the locker room toilets had gotten pretty substantial in its own right but, seeing as the locker rooms also weren&#039;t limited by a single usable toilet like the restrooms at the main building, the students were able to file in and out in a timely manner. She had managed to make it to fourth period Math without missing the final bell &ndash; bathroom trip and all.<br /><br />But, no, this wasn&#039;t the root of the problem. That came in fifth period, World Cultures. It was &quot;cultural cuisine exchange&quot; day in class where everyone was told to bring in a dish that represented a piece of some aspect of their personal history. It didn&#039;t have to be anything big &ndash; it was even okay to bring in something premade. All Mr. Lovell asked was whatever you considered &quot;your heritage&quot; to find some sort of food from it and share it with the class &ndash; complete with a short presentation on the connection the food had to your own history and culture. The task was worth the same as a quiz, making it the easiest quiz ever. As Lyn&#039;s dad had originally been German she chose to bring in a big box of German chocolates she ordered online. They went quick. Everyone else had also brought in different snacks from around the world to share with the class but it was Eduardo who was the linchpin of her current crisis.<br /><br />Eduardo had brought in this <em>awesome</em> fruit punch that was made by his <em>abuelita</em>. Lyn wasn&#039;t even sure what was in it but apparently it was a cherished recipe from the &quot;old country&quot; that his grandmother and mother liked to break out for parties. Pretty much all the students wanted some and Lyn was no exception. She probably downed about four or five cups during the course of the class. They weren&#039;t really big cups but this <em>had</em> come after lunch. So by this point she was packing away quite a bit of fluid on top of what she consumed during lunch. Lyn didn&#039;t even consider the situation with the toilets in the school when she decided to go all-in on that fruit punch...at least not until Karlee reminded her how much she had to drink on the way out of class.<br /><br /><em>&quot;Wow, you really loved that fruit punch,&quot;</em> Karlee said to her as the students filed out of the classroom. <em>&quot;You sure you should have drank so much when the bathrooms aren&#039;t working?&quot;</em><br /><br />Dangit. Lyn had to concede she didn&#039;t plan that very well. But, hey, she had peed after P.E., surely that should cover her until the end of the day. Plus, if she got lucky she might be able to swing into a toilet at some point before then. No worries...<br /><br />By now the school bus had reached its first stop on its route &ndash; a white house inside a subdivision called &quot;Serene Acres&quot;. A beaver boy with a green baseball cap and his older brother stood up at the back of the bus and began to make their way to the front. It was Sam, who was in the same year as Lyn, and his older brother Bill, who was in 10th grade. Sam bid the bus driver, a lion who liked to be called &quot;Mr. Eddie&quot;, goodbye for the day.<br /><br />&quot;Don&#039;t be a stranger!&quot; Mr. Eddie said as Sam and his brother disembarked the bus and walked up their driveway. The bus door closed once more, now making Lyn&#039;s stop the next destination on the route. A resolution to her ordeal was within sight; the most epic pee she had in recent memory was rolling around in her mind. Oddly, entertaining the thought of her pants coming off and the blast of urine that was poised to echo in the porcelain cistern actually helped to take her mind off the straining bladder she was carrying with her. Once more the bus began to roll forward and the pang of her urine was felt once again down below. Lyn winced briefly before slightly shifting her legs, looking for any sign of ease that she could find, and resuming contemplating on her day.<br /><br />While she didn&#039;t exactly feel full-up after the end of fifth period, it was during sixth period Web Design that the urge began to build. It started out mild, nothing that would demand any concern at the time, but Lyn already understood that smooth sailing might not be in her future if she wasn&#039;t able to deal with it after class. She still had to endure the final class, Language Arts, if she wasn&#039;t able to find a way to fit in a trip to the bathroom beforehand. While she figured that maybe the staff would be more sympathetic towards students filing in late due to the current situation in the school, she also questioned what the most practical course of action would be. Maybe if she just put her mind into a focused mode it might allow her to make it through to the end of the day and not have to try to compete for the limited toilet access that was available to the rest of the student body.<br /><br />With the end of sixth period Lyn entered the hallway of the third floor of the school &ndash; one of the floors where one of the two working girls&#039; restrooms could be found. She gauged her current bladder sensation as she walked towards the restrooms. She definitely had to go but it wasn&#039;t <em>urgent</em>. Might feel good to get it out but, assuming her body had produced all the pee that it could wring out of the beverages she had since lunch, it was manageable. Lyn rounded the corner of the hallway and got a glimpse of the restrooms. There were five girls standing in line outside the bathroom. She could tell the one at the front of the line &ndash; a yellow-furred lynx &ndash; was definitely showing signs of someone who needed to evacuate their bladder <em>now</em>. Lyn wasn&#039;t at that point yet and didn&#039;t even feel as if she was close, despite her body telling her that a pee wouldn&#039;t necessarily be unwelcome either. As Lyn watched the line to use the bathroom a lemur that Lyn recognized as one of the 11th graders in her second period Computer Animation class exited the restroom and the long-suffering lynx blew through the door and to salvation. Meanwhile, another student took her place at the back of the queue for the girls&#039; room. At that point Lyn committed to her decision: she was going to ride it out and just use the bathroom at home. It was only an hour and fifteen minutes, bus trip included, which should be within her capability to hold it.<br /><br />That was not smart. Lyn should have taken the cue to deal with the issue while it was still at an early enough stage. Even if it meant waiting in line at least that would have been better than sitting in class, trying to listen to Mrs. Clarkson discuss the finer points of dos-and-don&#039;ts in essay writing, all the while her insides twisted with the urge that she <em>needed</em> to somehow accommodate more room in her bladder. The earlier hope that her body had finished generating urine was, in fact, merely hope and reality had set in that her tank was hitting its capacity but with still more to come. Lyn shifted in her seat several times during class, trying to stem any sensation of losing control in public, surrounded by other students. That was a <em>totally</em> unacceptable outcome, even if the school&#039;s toilets weren&#039;t functional. None of <em>them</em> had an accident that day in spite of present challenges so surely Lyn wouldn&#039;t be exempt from the consequences of her peers if she conceded to her urinary system and soaked herself at her desk. An agonized <em>Come on...come on...</em> was ringing in her mind, begging for the final bell to strike and at least give her some chance at ending this on her own terms. Between the pleas for reprieve Lyn berated her own foolhardy bravado for not figuring out a more desirable course of action. Maybe she could have asked Mrs. Clarkson if she could use the restroom before class started &ndash; that would have been hard to turn down, seeing as she made an effort to arrive at class on time before bringing up the potential delay that using the school&#039;s facilities would incur. But, nope, now she was locked into her choice and just coming out and asking to use the bathroom now was too awkward by her eighth-grade sensibilities &ndash; everyone would know that she was on the verge of overflowing and would probably haunt her in some fashion; middle schoolers tend to be so unsympathetic. But she was also <em>so</em> full &ndash; the pee feeling as if it spread from her bladder and into her urethra where it just sat, waiting for the command in her brain to relax the thin amount of muscle control that dammed up what was surely a fire hydrant&#039;s worth of fluid waste that was poised part her opening like a burst pip-<br /><br />Suddenly Lyn was jarred from her thoughts with a heavy intake of breath. A harsh jerking jolted the bus to an immediate halt and the sound of the bus&#039;s horn blared. &quot;HEY! School buses have the right of way!&quot; Mr. Eddie shouted. As the bus was pulling out of Serene Acres a car travelling in the opposite direction had whipped around a u-turn right in front of the school bus as it was turning, cutting it off in the lane. The bus was just at the beginning of its acceleration curve when the careless driver passed unlawfully in front of it, forcing Mr. Eddie to hit the brakes just as the bus was starting to pick up speed. All the students onboard had been thrown forward by the sudden drop in momentum and now a chorus of groans could be heard coming from all across the length of the bus. &quot;Sorry, kids,&quot; Mr. Eddie apologized to the students behind him. &quot;Some people just don&#039;t know how to deal with a school bus, it seems.&quot;<br /><br />But Lyn didn&#039;t acknowledge Mr. Eddie, nor did she join in with the annoyed grunts and grumbles of her fellow students who had their heads rocked by the abrupt stop. Instead, she was locked in a silent panic, her eyes wide and dilated and her teeth gritted. <em>Oh SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!</em> were the words screaming in her head at that second, with it all somehow staying in her mind without escaping her mouth. As soon as the brakes had been slammed, Lyn was sitting ramrod-straight, her hands thrust between her thighs with incredible speed. The unexpected aggressive braking had caused the muscle control between her legs to momentarily lapse, catching Lyn off-guard as she was lost in thought and suddenly taking her back to the present, which delayed any response she could give to the sensation of unintentional peeing. She knew right then that there had been a breach, the reflex of using her hands to manually clamp her piss hole simply coming too slowly to intercept the rush of fluid. A burst of liquid had definitely escaped her slit and collected in her underwear. And it hadn&#039;t been just a tiny &quot;leak&quot;, Lyn had felt <em>flow</em> down there. It wasn&#039;t going to be a small dot of piss that she was dealing with; there had been a splash and at the very least her panties were going to be damp by the end of this journey. Lyn&#039;s eyes darted around rapidly in an instinctive check to see if anyone was looking in her direction, her hands nestled on her private parts and all the telltale indicators of someone dealing with an unsanctioned expression of their bladder. There was no way to hide it; her posture and harrowed facial expression would be plenty of evidence to an observer and Lyn was simply too frazzled to even try and mask it. However, all the other kids near her were too preoccupied with regaining their composure after the bus stopped to pay her any mind. That was a relief, at least she escaped the notice of anyone within eyeshot.<br /><br />As Lyn&#039;s wave of panic began to subside and her mental clarity returned, she could now sense the clammy warmth that had pooled on the front of her labia and was pressing against her newly-doused underpants. Keeping her hands between her legs she moved them around slightly to check for any external signs of liquid that might have found its way outside her underwear. Upon feeling the inside of her right thigh Lyn was mortified that there was indeed a spot on her jeans that felt damp. She dreaded to look down, knowing that she now bore visible evidence of an accident in her pants. Lyn slowly spread her legs and glanced towards her lap, lifting her right hand out of the way just enough to make out where she felt the dampness. Indeed, there was a distinct dark patch around the spot on her inner thigh of her jeans where the released urine hadn&#039;t stayed within her panties, her jeans being so form-fitting resulting in constant contact between her underpants and outerwear while she was seated. However, it was small and located where only someone who was looking directly at it might notice. As her seat was in front of all the other students on the bus she wouldn&#039;t have to face any of them when it came time to stand up &ndash; her one saving grace to get out of this without risking any dignity.<br /><br />Despite the failure to save her clothing from becoming the impromptu receptacle for her piss, Lyn remained feeling as though she teetered on the edge of exploding and putting her panties through even more abuse. Whatever had sprayed out only represented a small quantity of the turbulent lake that was still sloshing inside her and waiting impatiently at the gate of her vagina. No longer wanting to lean back as she had before the screeching stop, Lyn now sat arched forward and her hands at her side, pressing down on the spaces next to her on the bus seat. She could feel her own breathing and her vision felt slightly out of focus, as though she were looking past the metal plate that separated her seat from the steps down to the exit, even though it offered nothing but its silvery surface to return her glare. <em>It...it&#039;s okay...I didn&#039;t completely piss myself...</em> Lyn thought, trying to reassure her rattled self that the situation wasn&#039;t worse than it was.<br /><br />&quot;Lyn?&quot; a voice called out, snapping Lyn out of her daze. She looked around herself, trying to lock onto who called her name. &quot;Lyn? We&#039;re at your stop,&quot; they continued. Lyn realized it was Mr. Eddie talking to her. She looked out the window and saw the facade of her tan-colored two-story house.<br /><br />&quot;Oh, right...&quot; she said, blinking a few times and regaining her full presence of mind. &quot;Thanks...Mr. Eddie,&quot; she said to the driver. She stood up and slung her backpack over her right shoulder and began to sidle out from her seat.<br /><br />&quot;Are you okay?&quot; he asked, concerned about her somewhat delirious state.<br /><br />&quot;I&#039;m fine, I&#039;m fine!&quot; Lyn said, hastily, trying to assuage his concerns so she wasn&#039;t asked to delve any further. The door to the bus opened and she descended the stairs to the outside quickly. The door to the bus shut behind her and began to roll away. Lyn was standing alone at the base of her driveway.<br /><br />As soon as the bus cleared her vicinity the urgency came roaring back to her abdomen and groin. Lyn&#039;s eyes flared up once more, being quickly reminded that she was still at the mercy of her need to badly urinate. She began to stride up the driveway briskly, reaching deep into her right pocket to fish her keys out. Being so close to home seemed to ramp up her desperation and it was taking its toll on her ability to think rationally. She fumbled the keys out of her pocket and began flipping them around the ring, trying to find the one to the front door of the house. <em>Not this one...no...NO...</em> she thought as she pulled each key around the ring and passing the ones she knew weren&#039;t the one she wanted. By this point she was standing on the front porch in front of the front door and still trying to figure out which key would let her pass. Lyn&#039;s thighs were pressed together and she was slowly bobbing up and down by this point while shifting her weight constantly between her two feet. There was no room left &ndash; if she didn&#039;t relieve herself willingly, it was going to happen anyway and any protests her brain had that she wasn&#039;t positioned over a toilet would be ignored.<br /><br /><em>There!</em> she exclaimed in her head, finally finding the right key. Her keyring only contained about five or six keys, along with a couple of charms, but in her frenzied state Lyn was finding it difficult to process simple pieces of information with any clarity &ndash; she must have passed the key she needed at least once. She pinched the correct key between her thumb and index finger and uneasily inserted it into the lock of the door&#039;s deadbolt, her hand jittering. Her left hand was now pressed over her girl parts as hard as she could manage, being the last line of defense she had left. She turned the key and unlocked the door, grabbed the doorknob, and twisted it while slamming her shoulder on the door to get through. The white wooden door flew open into the foyer of her home. Lyn yanked the key out of the deadbolt and threw the door closed behind her without the slightest bit of grace, shutting it with a loud clap. She whipped her backpack off and threw it to the hardwood floor in the corner of the foyer.<br /><br />Finally home after all that she had been through, Lyn took no time whatsoever to run to the stairway to the second floor of the house. She darted up the stairs, skipping every odd step just to ascend as fast as her legs could carry her. Lyn bounded around the 90-degree turn in the staircase and sailed up the remaining steps to the landing on the second floor. The bathroom she shared with her little brother Cody was situated at the top of the steps, in the length of hall that separated their bedrooms with that of their parents&#039; at the opposite end. The house was currently empty since her mother was still at work while her father had to pick up her brother from soccer practice after he got off work, meaning Lyn was the only occupant at the moment. A good situation to be in, given the potential for Cody&#039;s mischievous interference if he got wind of her current state.<br /><br />Lyn shoved the door to the bathroom aside and finally laid eyes on the ultimate prize that she had been denied for so long. The white tank and bowl almost glistened in her eyes, having been coveted for hours upon hours of rising tension and urgency. The momentum of pushing the door returned the door back to a half-closed position behind her. It didn&#039;t matter, she was the only one at home, she could pee with impunity with the door open and let loose whatever vocalization of long-awaited relief as loud as she pleased once she was urinating under her own power. Lyn stepped in front of the toilet and lifted the seat cover to the back of the toilet, revealing the open basin of water below. It was finally time.<br /><br />But it was not to be.<br /><br />Making eye contact with the toilet caused something to stir. As soon as she lifted the seat cover and looked into the water resting at the bottom of the toilet bowl, a disconnection happened. Her urinary system had gone into business for itself. All her haste abruptly culminated in pee gushing at full flow before she had a chance to seat herself or even disrobe. &quot;NO! NO! NO!&quot; Lyn began crying out, horrified at suddenly being overcome by incontinence at the last possible second &ndash; seemingly triggered by the sight of the toilet. Her mind kept sending signals to her vaginal region to <em>do something</em> but it was completely useless; there was no capping the gusher that was comprehensively saturating her panties and jeans, only feeling short pulses of flow with each failed attempt at stopping herself.<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s mind was churning with a swarm of emotions over her involuntary bladder expulsion drenching her crotch and running down her legs. There was fear over the complete loss of control, anger that all this hurry and patience amounted to <em>nothing</em> at what should have been the <em>very end</em>, frustration over her inability to stop peeing long enough to get her damn pants off first, and shame and embarrassment over witnessing the fundamental understanding instilled into her nine years prior that &quot;pee goes in the potty&quot; being washed away as this thirteen year-old girl was pissing full force into her pants. The cacophony of racing thoughts and emotion was also interfering with her basic motor skills, as Lyn&#039;s belt presented a challenge to undo. &quot;Come off, shit! COME OFF!&quot; she screamed at herself, confused at how something as simple as unbuckling a belt could be made so difficult at such a critical moment. Lyn didn&#039;t like swearing out loud, typically, but her inhibitions were taking a backseat at this unfortunate time. She yanked the end of her belt but with every attempt to pull the prong out of the hole it kept failing to clear and fully unbuckle. The bursting pee was still coming, which had turned the inner seams of her jeans a dark shade of blue in a storm of liquid waste, her panties long since beyond any limit to protect her. Why on today of all days did she choose to wear jeans instead of a skirt? All that a skirt would have required was reaching under and pulling down her underwear, maybe a slight hike for full clearance, and all of this would now be streaming into the toilet. But instead, she was locked in a fight with a freaking belt and her urethra didn&#039;t seem to care one bit.<br /><br />Tears began to well in her panicked eyes; Lyn felt like breaking down and just giving up, letting it all finish where she stood because there was nothing more she could do. She wanted to resign herself, sobbing and legs covered in piss, with part of her believing she deserved this for making so many poor decisions that led to such a conclusion. But at the same time she refused to concede, somehow <em>needing</em> to finish this with <em>some</em> of this pee ending up in its proper place.<br /><br />Finally, after what seemed like an endless battle with her belt, the buckle finally came undone fully and the two ends separated. Lyn hurriedly unbuttoned the button on her soaked jeans and jerked the zipper down, her hands ragged and shaking. She reached into the waistband and shimmied them down to her calves, revealing her light-blue panties that were now considerably darkened by the surge of pee that had washed over them. Almost as if her body was mocking her, at this moment and after suffering such a grave indignity without any input on her part, her urine flow briefly cut off even though it was far, far too late &ndash; whatever message her brain needing to convey finally being read and heeded. Lyn slid her violently flooded panties down around her knees to expose her bare vagina, feeling the warmth of her own improperly deposited piss as she did. The scent of fresh urine was now noticeable in the room as Lyn moved her bushy raccoon&#039;s tail clear of the bowl opening and slammed her buttocks onto the toilet seat as fast as she could with this brief moment of urinary control she had been afforded.<br /><br />As soon as she was seated the flow began once more with little persuasion on Lyn&#039;s part, this time falling into its proper receptacle. The sound of urine spraying on the sloped edge of the toilet bowl then cascading into the water below could be heard alongside Lyn&#039;s gasps of air and the typical hiss of a bladder in relief. She was lightheaded, barely able to comprehend anything, only the instinctive action of pissing. She needed a moment to regain any sense of composure to process her present state of mind. Lyn sat with her hands on the edge of the seat and her legs outstretched, leaning back against the seat cover; not a position she usually assumed whilst peeing but one that seemed necessary now with the wetness that coated her lower half. The air conditioning was now cooling her damp clothes and fur, bringing them down from her body temperature to the surrounding climate and giving her a cold sensation that ran up her moist legs. Lyn looked down at her groin, somewhat dumbfounded that there was still anything left that needed to be voided into the toilet after the preceding salvo that had laid waste to her blue jeans. She observed the golden stream being jettisoned from between her legs. With her legs spread as they were the lips of her girlhood were modestly parted, allowing her to see the cavity where her urine was flowing from. It exited as a vertical spray that showed some continuity but was mostly a disorderly jet of amber fluid pouring from her. The gray fur around her pelvis was matted with her waste and it ran all the way down the exposed parts of her legs. She could feel a slight stickiness beginning to take form as it all continued to drop in temperature with the exposure to the cooler air of the house.<br /><br />Eventually Lyn&#039;s pee stream began to lose strength, no longer spraying onto the porcelain walls of the toilet but now directly into the urine-water mix that resided in the bowl. The signature trickle of urine splashing down onto the surface rang out through the tiled bathroom. It was surprising, almost fascinating, how much she had in her that needed to be relieved. Despite how much was lost during the initial flooding of her jeans what she was still able to evacuate into the toilet rivaled any of her usual trips to the bathroom. Altogether Lyn figured she must have spent about a minute total peeing, which was remarkable. This was the culmination of her overindulgence of fruit punch at school and the foolishness of doing so on a day where toilet access was not guaranteed, mandating that she had to bring it all home with her and ending in a blur of pee-soaked clothes and a deep sense of shame and regret. She continued to look down as the last remaining drops fell from her vagina and into the toilet bowl. Lyn cycled her pelvic muscles looking for any remaining fluid that had yet to exit her urinary tract. A small pulse of pee emerged from her opening in response before she certifiably felt empty.<br /><br />Lyn looked over at the roll of toilet paper to her right. For a moment she considered wiping herself down as she usually would but realized that, with all the piss that had gone elsewhere besides the front of her groin, that more extensive measures would have to be taken than merely relying on toilet paper. Her panties guiding the liquid across her crotch as it filled with urine had allowed the deluge to reach her butt and share the clammy dampness over there as well. Still seated on the toilet Lyn gingerly used her feet to slide off her white and pink sneakers without untying the laces, exposing her white socks underneath. Despite the concentration of urine that had made its way down her legs, her socks were only damp at the cuffs and not any further down than the tops of her ankles, meaning the insoles of her sneakers had evaded any of the liquid spreading that far. This was a relief, as trying to clean pee out of those would be a considerable chore and could have potentially ruined them. Mom would <em>not</em> be pleased to find out she had to throw away the sneakers she just bought for that school year because her thirteen year-old daughter had failed to reach a toilet in time.<br /><br />Lyn repeated the action of using her feet to slide her socks off, exposing her clawed raccoon toes underneath, and kicked them aside. Now without her shoes blocking the way, her jeans began to come off more easily. Lyn pulled her flooded jeans off and tossed them into a heap next to the shower from her seated position. Finally, she slid her soaked blue panties around her ankles and off her legs then tossed them on top of her jeans, leaving her totally bottomless. The lack of wet pants against Lyn&#039;s legs felt freeing and she sighed deeply, keeping her glance fixed on her sopping garments that sat opposite the toilet.<br /><br />Lyn stood up from the toilet and turned around. She looked into the bowl and at the yellowed water within, still slightly bubbly from being direly urinated into. She gave the handle a push and the contents swirled down the drain and was replaced with clear water once more. Lyn walked over to where she had kicked her socks to and picked them up, putting them onto the rest of the clothing she had removed. From there she also removed her white t-shirt and threw it onto the same pile, which left her entirely unclothed. Lyn reached into the bathtub and turned the knob, starting the water flowing out of the spigot. She adjusted it until the warmth was a level she was comfortable with then turned on the shower, rerouting the flow from the spigot to the shower head. She stepped into the raining water and pulled the shower curtain closed.<br /><br />As she stood under the pouring water, Lyn leaned her hand on the wall of the shower and looked down at the water that was circling down the drain. With the crisis more-or-less over, she finally had a chance to reflect on the whole fiasco from the start to the finish. She knew better, she knew this wasn&rsquo;t something that had to happen. But she chose to press onwards in her own way and paid for it. Sure no one <em>saw</em> her commit one of the most egregious acts of indignity one could perpetrate upon themselves but <em>she</em> would know it happened, and she would know <em>why</em> it happened. Lyn thought back to when she was witness to Cody&#039;s trials in learning to use the toilet. How her parents would tell him &quot;Don&rsquo;t wait until you&rsquo;ve GOT to go before you go!&quot; As a smug eight year-old who had already passed potty training long before Lyn could remember herself condescendingly giggling at her younger sibling being caught out by not heeding his body&rsquo;s call to relieve itself until he was so full that he just went wherever he currently stood, pouring his contents into his training pants and having to tearfully hear out mom or dad tell him off as they changed him for not being thoughtful with his need to pee. But here Lyn was, at an age <em>well</em> in advance of that, taking an emergency shower because <em>she</em> was unable to follow such a simple guideline of taking care of business before it gets to be too much to bear. The plumbing being down at school could explain it, perhaps, but she knew in her head that it was merely an excuse for being too proud and too confident that she was in enough control of her situation to avert any incidents &ndash; a recipe for mishap.<br /><br />Deciding to finally move on from all this, Lyn rinsed off as best she could, focusing her efforts onto her lower half to cleanse her fur of the undignified act she wrought upon it. Now feeling less gross, Lyn shut off the shower and pulled the curtain back. She stepped out from the bathtub and grabbed a towel to dry off. She took extra care to towel off and make sure her fur was free of any evidence of the earlier catastrophe. Once dry she looked down at her wet pants on the floor, realizing that her belt was still looped through the waist and that she hadn&rsquo;t removed her phone when she was in such a rush to get them down in the first place. Lyn winced at the thought of having to interact with her soiled clothing again but she had to deal with it somehow. She gingerly hooked her left index finger into one of the belt loops and lifted the pants with as little contact as possible, cringing at the sight of the dark staining that was still very evident all down the legs &ndash; in part due to the simple fact of what caused the dark splotch but also because looking at her drenched jeans forced her to confront the outcome of her inability to control herself. She slid her brown belt out of the loops then reached into the left pocket and extracted her cell phone, which thankfully had been outside of the &quot;tidal zone&quot;. The extra weight added by her &quot;addition&quot; was noticeable as she held the messy pants aloft before dropping them back onto the floor in the same heap. Her phone now in hand she took it out of standby and looked at now in hand she took it out of standby and looked at screen. &quot;4:14 PM&quot; it read, meaning she was about an hour-and-a-half from anyone in her family coming home. Maybe it was enough time for her to cover this all up without anyone being the wiser...<br /><br />Lyn darted to her bedroom, still in the nude, and located a fresh pair of panties out of her drawer. They were white with a pink waistband and leg cuffs. She quickly slid them on then pulled a pair of pink cotton shorts out of a lower drawer, pulling them over her underpants just as swiftly with a satisfying &quot;snap&quot; of the elastic band as her puffy raccoon&#039;s tail popped out the hole in the rear. Finally, she went to her closet and grabbed a light blue t-shirt she had been given when she went to summer camp a few years ago. It had a picture of a pine tree set against the background of a bright yellow sun coming over the horizon and the name &quot;Camp Sunrise&quot; written below. She slipped on the shirt and was now fully dressed. Lyn gave herself a minute of pause after putting on her new clothes to decide what course of action she should take to try and make this all go away. She walked back down the hall to the bathroom and took a quick look around to weigh what options she had for hiding the evidence. Seeing her laundry hamper that was next to her brother&#039;s she went over and peered inside, seeing a modest pile of clothes within. It wouldn&#039;t normally be enough to consider doing a wash load for but it would give her an excuse to toss her soiled garments in with them. Normally her mother did her laundry with her brother&#039;s but there had been times that she had taken care of it herself too &ndash; such as when her mom had caught a cold a couple of months ago.<br /><br />This seemed like the only real choice she had so Lyn bundled up the wet clothes along with the t-shirt she wore to school that day and tossed them into the hamper along with the rest of her clothes then took the hamper downstairs to the garage, where the laundry machines were. Lyn looked over the dial on the face of the washer. She wanted to pick a cycle that could be done fast enough so she&#039;d be able to throw the clothes into the dryer before her mom got home. Avoiding arousing suspicion if she was caught going back and forth into the garage without a good reason was her main concern. She set the dial to a light cycle then poured all her clothes into the front-load drum. Atop the washing machine was a plastic container of detergent pods. Lyn opened the child-safe cap and reached inside, the pungent scent of artificial flowers rising from the pile of pods within. Grabbing a pod, she tossed it into the drum on top of the loaded clothes then shut the front door of the washer and started the wash cycle before returning the plastic cap to the container, clicking it closed. Lyn stood up and looked through the window of the washer at the pile of clothes as water was pouring in over them, satisfied that she had done whatever she could to avert being called out for her &quot;potty failure&quot;. She picked up her now-empty hamper and returned it to the upstairs bathroom.<br /><br /><div class='align_center'><em>*****</em></div><br />A few hours later, after her parents had come home and the family had eaten dinner, Lyn was up in her room putting together a web page for her Web Design class on her laptop. She had managed to get her clothes into the dryer before her mother had come home from work and her dad didn&#039;t say anything about the dryer running when he brought Cody home with him, even though they had all walked through the garage at one point. So as far as Lyn was concerned no one in the household had worked out what had happened before they got home. As she clicked back and forth between the source code to her web page and the product that she was building a knock came on the door behind her. Lyn typically left her door partially closed but not fully shut, in case her parents were calling for her downstairs.<br /><br />&quot;Come in!&quot; Lyn said, not turning away from her computer screen. &quot;Unless it&#039;s Cody, then I&#039;m busy!&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Lyn?&quot; A female voice from the other side of the door called her name.<br /><br />&quot;Hi, mom,&quot; Lyn responded, still diligently working on her homework. Her mother pushed the door open and stood in the doorway of Lyn&#039;s bedroom. Lyn reached a good stopping point in her homework and swiveled her office chair around to face away from her desk and towards the door. &quot;What&#039;s up?&quot;<br /><br />&quot;Were you doing homework?&quot; Her mother asked. Lyn nodded.<br /><br />&quot;Web Design,&quot; Lyn said, rolling her chair to the side and showing her mother what was on her screen. &quot;We&#039;ve got a project due on Monday.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s mother nodded in response. &quot;I won&#039;t be long,&quot; she assured her daughter. Lyn could tell her mother had something on her mind when she came to see her.<br /><br />&quot;Everything okay?&quot; Lyn said, somewhat reticently.<br /><br />&quot;Did you do your own laundry?&quot; Her mother asked, pointing towards the garage.<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s eyes began to twitch slightly. She blinked a few times in rapid succession to try to subdue the reflexive reaction. &quot;Uh...yeah,&quot; she said, unease building in her voice.<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s only Thursday, though,&quot; her mother pointed out. &quot;I doubt you&#039;d normally have enough clothes by today to do a load.&quot; Her mom usually being the reason her laundry gets done meant that Lyn was aware her mother could pick out any unusual change in that pattern. But why was she even asking? How did she know that Lyn already took it upon herself to do a load of laundry on a day that wasn&#039;t typical?<br /><br />&quot;Well...I...&quot; Lyn stammered, trying to come up with some feasible explanation for why the laundry was done sooner than usual. &quot;I spilled a drink on my shirt and had to wash it off!&quot; She contrived. It wasn&#039;t a <em>great</em> explanation &ndash; she could have simply tossed that shirt into the laundry without needing to do a load right there and then &ndash; but at least it was something that could answer the question.<br /><br />Her mother reached around the edge of the doorway and pulled out a basket of her clothes and laid it on the floor of her bedroom. All the clothes were neatly folded already, courtesy of her mom. So that was why she already knew that the laundry had been done. &quot;Um...thanks for folding my stuff! You didn&#039;t have to! Heh...&quot; Lyn said with a nervous laugh, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. The tension was now evident in her voice and she could feel her fur starting to tingle, guilt rising on her skin. Lyn had hoped that she could leave the clothes in the dryer for an extra day and take care of them tomorrow afternoon after school.<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s mother frowned that her daughter didn&#039;t want to go into any more detail, clearly sensing that she was trying to obscure something. &quot;Lyn...is that the only reason you did your laundry so early?&quot; Her mother inquired.<br /><br />&quot;Mm...yup!&quot; Lyn said, tersely, trying to think of some way to bail out and avoid having her cover blown.<br /><br />Her mother looked down the hallway and sighed before stepping into Lyn&#039;s room and closing the door behind her. &quot;Lyn...I know something&#039;s wrong,&quot; she said with her arms folded.<br /><br />Lyn figured as much. After all, what reason would her mother have to examine the dryer in the first place? She sat silently and glanced over at a movie poster that hung on her wall to her right, trying to avoid making eye contact with her mom and making this any harder on herself.<br /><br />&quot;Cody told me your bathroom smelled kind of musty when he was in there earlier,&quot; she explained. Crap. Lyn realized that either her wet clothes or her dripping legs had left traces of pee on the floor that she never cleaned up and had become stagnant in the hours since she returned home. &quot;I thought he was just referring to something he left behind so he wouldn&#039;t be blamed for it.&quot; Despite being eight, Cody&#039;s aim wasn&#039;t always true when he stood before the toilet and could sometimes splash the back of the seat if he was being particularly lackadaisical. &quot;But that&#039;s when I saw your empty hamper and went to the garage,&quot; her mother continued, explaining how she had deduced that her daughter&#039;s laundry had already been washed. Her mother began to utter the question Lyn had dreaded to hear: &quot;Lyn...did you...&quot;<br /><br />Lyn knew she was backed into a corner. Her mom had worked out that she was the source of the pee smell in the bathroom and that it had happened because she had an accident in there. &quot;Mom! I-I can explain!&quot; Lyn blurted out before her mother could finish her inquiry, her voice wracked with a plea for sympathy and compassion. &quot;The bathrooms at school! They didn&#039;t work all day and...and...&quot; She was finding it difficult to justify herself to her mother. The tears she thought she had put behind her during the heat of her crisis returned and now were threatening to spill over, leaving her in tizzy of bawling and fey rationalizations on how someone of her age had managed to wet their pants. &quot;But...I drank too much and...didn&#039;t...and the bus...&quot; Lyn trailed off with a sniff. It was pointless; there were too many pieces that she had to take responsibility for to try and foist it all on the failed plumbing at the school campus. Lyn threw her face into her hands to try and hide that she was about to start sobbing openly. However, a soft touch from her mother&#039;s hand rested on her shoulder and Lyn lifted her head, her eyes starting to redden from her frayed emotional state. Her mom was standing above her with a gentle smile. She had the understanding on her face that Lyn was hoping to see. Her mom crouched down so she could look her daughter in the eyes at the height of the swivel chair.<br /><br />&quot;Does...does Cody know?&quot; Lyn asked, regaining a slight bit of composure, thinking the only thing left was finding out whether her younger brother was also aware that his big sister had pissed all over herself in their communal bathroom. That would be gut-wrenching but perhaps something that she had to be willing to accept.<br /><br />&quot;Mm...maybe?&quot; Her mother answered, some slight uncertainty in her voice. &quot;I certainly won&#039;t be telling him, but...it wouldn&#039;t exactly be a stretch to work out,&quot; she told her daughter, not wanting to sugarcoat the reality. Lyn&#039;s head sagged down in resignation, readying her mind for the impending teasing that was sure to come in the following days once she had to face Cody. Normally she could just ignore it or blast something back of her own but what defense would she have when an eight year-old rightfully tells a thirteen year-old that <em>they</em> hadn&#039;t had an accident since they were potty trained? Her mother stood back up and went over to her bed and sat on the mattress. She crossed her legs and leaned over on her left arm for support. Lyn rotated her seat in the direction of her bed to continue facing her mom.<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s mom had a coy grin on her face. Lyn wiped away the tears that were still in her eyes. &quot;Mom...?&quot; She said, curious why her mother seemed to be so chill at a time like this.<br /><br />&quot;Wanna know a secret?&quot; Her mother said, leaning towards her daughter and still smiling with sly intent. &quot;I had the same thing happen to me at your age.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s eyes widened. No way. Her mom had the same experience as her? &quot;Seriously?!&quot; Lyn was incredulous that her mother was admitting to such a thing.<br /><br />Her mom closed her eyes and slowly nodded. &quot;Yep. Same thing,&quot; she reaffirmed in no uncertain terms. &quot;Happened when I was coming home from camp over the summer.&quot; Lyn moved to the edge of her seat, eager to know more about her mother&#039;s own dalliance with an uncooperative bladder.<br /><br />&quot;We had stopped for a break on the way back from summer camp.&quot; Lyn&#039;s mom began. &quot;I was a junior counselor at the camp and at the Luc-ees we stopped at I bought a big bottle of that sports drink...oh what was it...&#039;Pro Ade&#039;, that&#039;s it. I drank it all the way home but we were like two hours away and I had forgotten I didn&#039;t use the bathroom at the camp or the Luc-ees when I did so by the time the bus got us home I was <em>totally</em> full.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn listened intently, feeling increasingly at ease that her mother was so willing to be open with her. &quot;So when we got there, Grandma Lidia was the one to pick me up,&quot; her mother continued her story. &quot;I was <em>bursting</em> by that point but I managed to hold it together until we were actually at home. I ran into the bathroom but didn&#039;t realize how much trouble I was going to have with my belt.&quot; Exactly like what Lyn had experienced. Her mom wasn&#039;t exaggerating; she really had gone through the same ordeal as her daughter.<br /><br />&quot;Couldn&#039;t get it off in time, wound up covered in hot pee,&quot; her mom said frankly. &quot;All over my legs, it was so miserable and humiliating. Your grandma yelled at me for being so foolish at my age and my older brother &ndash; your Uncle Dillon &ndash; didn&#039;t let me hear the end of it for <em>weeks</em>. He even told his friends how his thirteen year-old sister wet her pants standing right in front of the toilet.&quot;<br /><br />Lyn now was able to rationalize why her mom had been so sympathetic. Not only had she gone through the same thing, but her parents hadn&#039;t been nearly as compassionate about it, probably because they couldn&#039;t relate. She wasn&#039;t going to be a hypocrite and refused to put Lyn through the same torture, instead sharing the relatable experience she once had to assure her that mistakes can happen. &quot;Wow...&quot; Lyn said, still flabbergasted that her mom was both so open and so much alike. &quot;I can&#039;t believe <em>you</em>...&quot;<br /><br />Her mother giggled slightly. &quot;Don&#039;t go telling your dad,&quot; she joked. Lyn nodded with a smile.<br /><br />&quot;As long as you don&#039;t either!&quot; Lyn said back. Her mother covered her smile and laughed openly. She lifted her right hand in a solemn vow that neither incident was going to leave the confines of Lyn&#039;s room. Lyn stood up and her mother responded in kind. The two hugged in the middle of Lyn&#039;s room.<br /><br />&quot;I&#039;m sorry, Mom,&quot; Lyn said, apologizing for her bad choices that day.<br /><br />&quot;It&#039;s okay, sweetie,&quot; her mother reassured her. &quot;It was actually kind of nice to admit that after all these years to someone who could relate. Kind of like closure.&quot; The pair parted their embrace. Lyn&#039;s mother gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head. &quot;Love you, Lyn,&quot; she told her.<br /><br />&quot;You too, Mom,&quot; Lyn said to her mother as her mother turned to leave her bedroom.<br /><br />Lyn&#039;s mother twisted the handle to the bedroom door and swung it open. &quot;Hey, put away your laundry!&quot; She said with a slightly smug smile, pointing to the laundry basket she had left on the floor. Lyn rolled her eyes and just gave a relaxed smile. &quot;Then take care of the &#039;you-know-what&#039; in your bathroom,&quot; her mother finished with a bob of her head in the direction of the bathroom. Lyn nodded and began to unload the laundry basket as her mother disappeared beyond the edge of the door frame.</span>",
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  "title": "A Deluge of Errors",
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