Avery groaned. It was still several hours ‘til their next stop, and if he'd known earlier that the bus toilet would be out of commission, he would've made a few slightly different choices. But what was done was done, and he'd just have to wait. He huffed and settled into his seat. He'd take a nap, that would help. It'd keep his mind off it at least.
It was a cloudy day in town, and there were a conspicuous number of fountains in the square. He was vaguely aware he needed to pee, but he was meeting someone, it could wait.
“Yo, Ave!” A figure by one of the fountains waved him over. “What took you so long?”
Avery shrugged. “I'm here now… can we, er, move this elsewhere?...”
They shook their head. “Nah man, do you know how hard it was to get such a nice spot?”
Their conversation went nowhere important. And as they talked, it grew harder and harder to ignore the sound of the fountains. The splattering of liquid permeated through his being, and the copious amounts of liquid sloshing around in his own bladder.
“Ain't the architecture here something?” Asked the figure.
Avery smiled weakly. He groaned internally as he looked closer at the fountain closest to them. It was a modern design, but the structures looked vaguely like figures. The way they were placed looked like one was relieving themselves, a strong jet of water gushing out into the pond below. While the other twisted in on itself in desperation. Its “legs” pretzled around each other while it writhed. He glanced around. Each fountain looked eerily like a desperate scene. Lines of metal structures twisted and curled in on themselves, as if holding back a flood. Avery sweat. “Yeah…. Great… listen, are there any bathrooms near here?”
The figure smiled disconcertingly widely.
Avery walked haphazardly as he walked where the figure told him to. His bladder swished and sloshed as he made his way past the fountains. He needed to take a left past the one that made it, he whimpered as the fountain teased him. Go between the twins tortured by the poured glasses. His bladder throbbed gently. And behind the large waterfall are some facilities. A crowd blocked his path, jostling to get a better look at something. It was a new fountain, one that had dancing water jets. Avery whimpered, hypnotized by it. He thought he saw other people squirming as well, similarly desperate and entranced. Avery finally tore himself away and pushed through the crowd when the bowl rose up, streams shooting into it to fill it up, its sloshing contents reminding him of his bladder, still fit to burst.
The roaring waterfall was just beyond the new one, and it was also a sight to behold. It was several stories tall, and had thousands of gallons roaring out the top, pounding against the boulders at the bottom. Avery had to grab himself as he stumbled past, the sight and sounds impacting his bladder as if it were pouring straight into it.
Avery groaned, legs clenched tightly together when he finally got behind the waterfall. He stumbled through the door, letting it slam closed behind him as he writhed to keep control. There was a line for the men's room for some reason, and it moved ridiculously slowly. His bladder sloshed disconcertingly as he stepped forward, and his brow prickled with sweat from the strain. When he finally reached the door he groaned, the stalls were full, and the urinals claimed. He waited for an opening, his hand gripping himself through his pocket as he was forced to listen to everyone else's relief. Everywhere Avery turned was the sound of liquid, splashing and trickling and reminding him of his own need. The splattering of urine reverberated with his bladder, wobbly and filled to the brim.
Eventually someone stepped away from a urinal, and Avery quickled waddled over, his bladder pulsing with need. He unzipped, swallowing hard. For some reason he couldn't go. His stream was barely a trickle, and his eyes watered at the torture of being denied relief. After too long, the floodgate finally opened, and he gushed in earnest, peeing loudly. His stream jetted against the porcelain loudly, and there was still so much more that needed to be let out. Suddenly, he heard a polite cough behind him. He tensed on reflex, his stream cutting off. He'd been at the urinal too long, there were other people waiting, and it'd be rude to delay them any longer. He mumbled an apology, sheepishly exiting the bathroom. As soon as he turned the corner, he grabbed his crotch and bounced on the balls of his feet with a whine. Even when he pissed full force he didn't get any sense of relief, and in fact, he felt fuller than before. It was torture.
He whimpered, before he went back to walking, his steps awkward and off-kilter from desperation. Someone took pity on him, and let slip there should be more toilets on the third floor. Avery thanked him and made his way to the stairs, the elevator was out. Each step up the stairs spelled potential disaster, but he just told himself that relief was near. He made it to the floor, and turned the corner to be met with a “closed for cleaning” sign. “Sorry squirt, someone made a terrible mess in there, it's gonna take a while to clean. Should be some on the second floor at the far end.” Avery whimpered at the nickname but thanked them for the tip before walking back to the stairs as fast as he could muster. He burst onto the second floor, and ran into an “out of order” sign this time. “Sorry squirt, pipe burst on this floor, flooded the whole thing. Did you try the third floor? There's two sets of bathrooms up there, second one is at the very end of the floor.” Avery nodded, and made his way to the stairs again. This was getting dire, he didn't know how much longer he could last.
He speedwalked past the first bathroom, and made his way down the hall. Each step made his bladder slosh, and every slosh reminded him he was quickly running out of time. He turned the last corner. There was a huge, stoic guard standing next to the door. “Sorry, can't let you in. The big guy is in there and he likes his privacy.”
Avery whimpered pathetically as he writhed. “C- can't I just use the other one? It's… important.”
The figure shook their head. “Sorry, I've got orders.” Said the guard. They stared at Avery as he squirmed. “Heh, you look like you almost have to go as badly as I do.”
“Oh I guarantee you it's much worse.” Avery mumbled, swaying where he stood.
The guard chuckled, their fists clenched and trembling. “Try this: two litres of water, plus coffee, and no break for five hours.”
Avery swayed harded. “I can't remember not having to pee. I waited for the first floor toilet and didn't even get to go fully.”
The figure gulped, bouncing on the balls of their feet. “At least you got to let a little out, right? Try this, I gotta keep the boss on my walkie, and he likes to leave a faucet on in the background when he's in there.” The figure shudders. “So I gotta listen to that the whole time I'm guarding.”
Avery also bounced on the balls of his feet. “Nggh, have you ever had to stop just after you start going? To get a small taste of relief only to be denied it? To- nnn, have to stop and know you still have more left? And that it continues to fill back up?”
The guard began to sway as well, their knees fanning a little as their hands strained to stay away from their crotch. “Haah, you… didn't hear this from me but… one time I couldn't take it anymore and wandered to the nearby woods. I figured I could be quick enough and he wouldn't notice right? He c- caught me barely ten seconds into my whiz. M- made me stop and hold it until we got to headquarters four hours later. It wasn't easy with the edge taken off like he'd said it should be.”
Avery whimpered, nodding in sympathy. “That forest?”
The guard nodded. “Entrance is just beyond the last fountain, a tiny little thing.”
Avery nodded in thanks before carefully making his way back downstairs. Each step was torturous and threatened to cause him to spill, but he still held on, his hand in his pocket clutching at his dick, quietly chanting ‘hold on’ under his breath.
The last fountain may have been small, but it may have been the worst by far to get past. Water trickled in random spouts from the top into cups below, some of which overflowed, and some tipped into other cups, before the water splattered into the basin below. The noisy streams starting and stopping reminded Avery of his last near-relief, and was horrified to feel himself let out a short leak. He was almost out of time, he knew it. He squeezed and limped his way into the small forest. All he needed was some privacy, that was all he needed, he told himself.
He hobbled his way down the path for a few minutes, his steps lurching and unsteady as he struggled to hold on. Eventually he stopped. The forest trail was quiet. Avery checked his surroundings, but he was all alone. He looked over his shoulder once more, before stepping a ways off the trail, stepping behind a large bush and already unzipping. He moaned embarrassingly loudly as he peed with abandon. His stream splattered loudly against the leaves, trickling to the ground melodically. He pissed endlessly without any sign of stopping or relief, urine gushing out of him like a high-pressure hose. It was delicious torture, to be relieving himself without any sense of real relief, it was like someone was filling him as fast as he emptied, the way he pissed without growing empty.
The bus lurched as it drove over the pothole, and Avery jolted awake, his hands flying to his crotch. His need to pee had grown so very worse as he napped, about as bad as it had been in his dreams. He squirmed as he waited for the waves of desperation to pass, not caring if anyone saw. The next stop was coming up in a few minutes, but he didn't know if he'd be able to make it. His bladder was firm to the touch, and he loosened his belt a notch in the hopes of buying some time.
He tried to think dry thoughts. He was in a desert, so hot that there wasn't a drop of water to be seen for miles, much like other people. No one around for miles. No one to see if he just took a small leak, to take the edge off. To see him let loose, urine jetting out of him like a firehose. Liquid gushing out onto the dry sand. To pee, piss, make water, take a leak, let go. No, he needed to not think about peeing. Or rain. Or streams. Or waterfalls. Or water balloons. Or rivers. Or leaky pipes. Or pouring a glass of water to the brim.
He bounced in his seat, his stop couldn't come soon enough.
He groaned when the bus finally came to a stop, clutching his crotch as another wave of desperation overtook him. Eventually he was finally able to get off the bus, and was jostled by the rest of the crowd, his bladder sloshing mercilessly. He broke out in a cold sweat when he looked at the depot. The facilities all had long lines, several busses having let off at the same time. He groaned, dancing in place for a minute as he briefly considered waiting. He decided he'd rather chance a walk home, maybe find a restroom on the way back.
Avery got five minutes out before he knew this wouldn't work. Most businesses were closed at this time, and he was out of time. He gave a quick look over his shoulder as he hurried down the alleyway, already unzipping. His stream had started immediately, and his eyelids fluttered shut in relief, his bladder finally getting to empty, unlike his dream.
He grew paranoid, his stream echoed so loudly against the wall of the empty alleyway. He whimpered and tried to go quieter, to cut down the ferocity of his stream. It was a familiar tortuous feeling, to have relief in his grasp but have it come so slowly. His stream, despite his best efforts, still splattered loudly against the brick. His urine pattered against the wall for what felt hours, but was at best only about two minutes, before he finally felt empty, and eventually stopped. He groaned as he tucked himself back into his pants, taking a minute just to appreciate how good it felt to be empty. ‘That's the last time I chug a jumbo slushy on the ride home’ he swore to himself.