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The Club

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Bryce never got the obsession people his age had with partying. He figured it was pointless to get blackout drunk and would much rather have it calmer, so he was only a little tipsy and just trying to feel the vibe of the music. He was really only there for his friend, Milo.

Milo didn’t like going to those things alone; he needed a wingman or at least a ride home if things got awry.
Bryce glanced over at him. Milo wasn’t too drunk tonight and that was a surprise. Usually Milo got himself slammed as hard as he could but Bryce guessed that he was really trying this round to get to know some people. It was nice to see.

After a while, the lights of the club drove Bryce crazy as well as the boom of the bass rattling his bones.

Everything happened in moments.
His friend smiled.
The crowd grew.
After the next flash of blue all Bryce could see was a whirr of hands and arms up in the night.
His heart began to pound and the music felt louder.
Something felt off, but he didn’t know what.

A hand grabbed his arm and he looked down at it. It was small and soft, with skin a color that was a little indiscernible in the dark, and it had short black fingernails.

He hazily glanced over at the girl who did this in the now pink and red flashes. Her eyes glistened in a dark brown hue behind long lashes and her smile was wide. And, she was way, way too close to Bryce’s face.

He smiled nervously and a twinge of feathery urgency shot through to his bladder and he panicked. That must have been what was wrong…

The full feeling that was numbed earlier was starting to hit him and he clumsily stepped backward.

Her smile now showed teeth.


“Got a name, stranger?” She cooed in his ear. She then began to stroke his arm from under its sleeve.

“Bryce,” he answered. She took his hand now, and he took in the slight hint of lotion rubbing into his skin from her palm on his wrist.

“Dance with me, Bryce. My name is Amaya, but tonight, I’m your babe.”

He grinned. How could he say no? The night wasn’t that fun earlier and she was cute.

However, as time went on the urgency started to get real. Every boom of bass, every drum beat, every vibration and step, was taking his tipsy body and throttling it.

His bladder was barely holding on, sending throbbing waves through his abdomen unparalleled by the music, and there was no way to move when she only got closer. The smell of her hair, the gleam in her eyes, and the gloss on her lips were all intoxicating him, and he was swimming to get out of his senses.

He bit his lip, getting back on track, and looked around. There was no sign for a bathroom in sight. Chances were it was by the bar at the other side from where he was.

He sighed. This place was hopeless.

He nodded to himself, furrowing his brow. He’d just have to hold out for a while…

She got closer to him. Once again the vanilla notes of her perfume hit his nostrils and made him dizzy. He backed up, not wanting his urgency to hit strongly near her. Those long eyelashes blinked at him.

“Are you trying to slow it down?” She asked.
Well, yes, if he was being honest….

She smiled and giggled, her voice reverberating into his neck, into his chest.
She put her hand on his shoulder glancing to his crotch and then up at him, “May I?” She asked cheerily.

He nodded nervously. His heart was already beating fast but now it amped it’s speed, his bladder trembling on every beat. The next thing he knew her fingertips were tracing over his belt buckle, then undoing it, and then he felt her warm touch slowly cascade into his boxers.
He winced from the pleasure but also the aching, dying need that he couldn’t attend to. Each touch was like a tiny shiver. She wrapped her slender fingers around his member and smiled.

She had him by the dick. Literally.

He swallowed as she moved her face to be only inches away from his.
“What’s wrong, baby…?”

The heat radiating near his ears gave him a feeling that when the lights went back to red, his face would somehow be brighter. His breathing grew shallow.


He was a stuttering, shaky mess.
She moved her hands across his shaft smoothly, sending some waves of pleasure, but each wave ricocheted right through his spine, and right to his bladder.

His dick began to throb in her hand, and he panicked. He wasn’t about to let himself soak it. He grabbed her hand in fear with a tight grip.

“D-don’t. That’s enough for now.” He sputtered.

She gave a teasing pout and took her hand out.

“Sorry to startle you.” She said.

He nodded. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just… Uh…”

She smiled gently and got to fastening his belt. She pulled it very tight, basically squeezing his bladder.

Just like that it pulsed again and the electricity shot through him as a warm trickle jet out.

He yelped and bit the knuckle of his finger, feeling his face grow hot.

“No-no-no… I’m not even drunk. And even if I was, I can’t piss myself on the dance floor…,” he thought to himself.

He looked around for an escape route, not even noticing the girl was grabbing me him by the arms and was ready to get off on him.
He snapped his face towards her, starting to squirm.

“Baby… Don’t be scared, you’re such a good dancer,” She purred with a flirty smile. He was trapped.
There were huge crowds of people packed around him, blocking him from getting out.

He was suffocating in pheromones, bright light flashes, and pounding beats.

She had her fingers ever so subtly around his neck and if he didn’t have to piss so bad he would be living for the kinky play. But now he felt defenseless.

She danced a little harder against him and he mildly noticed the feel of her skin against his pantleg, each movement and vibration reminding him that he could drench his pants at any minute.

He couldn’t help but groan and wince.

“Amaya- I’m gonna-”

“Ah ah, I told you. Tonight, I’m your babe…”

His blush deepened. “Babe… I… I have to….”

She smiled at his squirming and teased, “you have to what?”

“Please I uh… I need to pee…”

“I couldn’t hear that?” She asked, tilting her head and stepping closer.

He couldn’t tell if the lights were red or if his body was seeing red.

“I…” He breathed, “ I can’t… I…! Babe!”

She kissed him, biting his lip and then pressed his bladder. “I know…”

His eyes widened in confusion as she stepped back from him and watched him.

Just then his bladder jet out urine once more in nervousness, making him clench his eyes shut and grit his teeth.

There was no holding back now, for the next stream was too strong to cut off. Relief waved through his body and his legs weakened and shook as he started to soon feel the warmth of his urine pattering into his jeans and rushing down his legs in a dark patch, then puddling to the floor. His skin grew exceedingly hot from the mix of alcohol and strong embarrassment, and he looked around frantically with tears in his eyes. It felt like it went on forever and by the time it tampered off, he was drenched.

He was mortified. He just not only pissed himself in front of a hot girl, but also an entire club, because the moment he’d want to leave he’d have to show himself to anyone he wanted to get by.

He shyly looked back the girl. Her eyes were fixated on his crotch and that made him back up and sheepishly put his hands over his wet patch and now throbbing manhood. He felt like a deer on an open field.

“What do I do?” He asked, feeling humbled.

She smiled, more gently this time.

She took his hand and lead him through the crowd and made sure no attention was drawn to him. He accidentally bumped into her a few times and felt terrible when he noticed some the patch sept into her pants.

When they got towards the exit she stopped him and pulled him by the shirt into a closet nearby and shut the door.

It was dark, and she felt around for him.
“We should get out of these clothes.” She suggested.

He just nodded without questioning and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off. But, when he did, there was another pair of jeans underneath. He furrowed his brow and tried again, but then under that was another of the same soaked, dripping pair.

With a sudden jolt, Bryce woke up and sat upright. He was drenched in sweat, and judging by the warmth in his lap, more than sweat.

He winced at the puddle in the sheets but was somewhat relieved it was only a dream. Wetting himself at a club would really be a disaster.

He stretched his arms up with a yawn, and suddenly a girls arm plopped over into his lap. He glanced down.

The hand was small, and soft, and the slender fingers had black fingernails.