Desperate Dare

The silver vulpine eagerly gulped down a two-liter bottle of soda, grinning as he was cheered on by a group. Fizzing and gulping could be barely be heard passed the whoops and hollers of semi-drunken laughter. This only egged the fox on as he tilted his head all the way back to chug down the last of the caffeinated drink.

Earlier, Wes had been invited to a house party by his best bud, Jessie. The jaguar had insisted he go, and he couldn't say no to the giddy cat. He'd not really been interested, but if it meant something to his friend, he'd endure it.

When they'd arrived the duo had been greeted by a small group of partiers that had clearly been drinking. Luckily for Wes, however, whom was not a big drinker, they had run out of alcohol. Apparently the ten or fifteen guests had already downed the little there was of it. This had made them tipsy more than anything.

All that was left to drink was soda and water, which a few of the other furs were already sipping at. Wes and Jessie quickly snatched up a can of soda each, moving in to chat and hang out with the others. The fox remained somewhat quiet, letting his friend do most of the socializing.

At some point, and he had no idea when, somebody had dared him to chug one of the eight two-liters of pop that were sitting around. Jessie somehow managed to get him to accept the dare, and he'd downed the big bottle with ease. Surprised, a couple of the tipsy guests had demanded he continue.

And that's how Wes ended up chugging eight two-liters of fizzing and bubbling soda. His stomach bulged out a great deal, made more obvious by his small four-foot stature. There was so much liquid inside of him that he'd had to unzip his jeans, as they had been far to tight. His red t-shirt had also been discarded and was now laying on the floor.

The furs cheered, and the fox felt a little bad that something so stupid had to be the highlight of their crummy, poorly-funded party. He had thought college kids could do better than this, but apparently not. This particular group was pretty pathetic, consisting of bored furs and wannabes.

Wes stood up from the couch, the contents of his belly sloshing about as he gave his friend a brief wave goodbye and made his way out the door. There was no point in him sticking around any longer anyways. Jessie seemed to understand, nodding and giving the fox a thumbs-up.

Cool air ruffled his silver and white fur as he stepped out into the fresh evening air. The sun was almost set and the moon was already visible in the darkening sky. He briefly remembered that he'd left his shirt back inside, but he didn't really want to go back in. Shrugging, the vulpine held up his pants and started to walk home.

His apartment, which he shared with Jessie, was six miles away. It was in a small, run down building that the small city assumed only college furs lived in. Well, that was true enough. The rent was so cheap one could live there and still have money for some booze.

To get there, Wes needed to walk downtown. That was only a mile away, and he was thankful for that. All the liquid in his belly was weighing him down. He'd need a place to rest soon.


--


As time passed the fox found himself walking a little bit quicker through the still somewhat busy (though quickly thinning) downtown area of the city. The eight bottles of soda had moved south rather quickly, so his lower abdomen was now becoming more and more bloated. His legs twitched every now and again as pressure began to grow between them.

In no time at all, Wes was searching for a restroom. Most of the shops here were 'customers-only,' but there were a couple of public bathrooms. In fact, there was one just up ahead!

Internally sighing with relief, the fox walked up to the mens room, only to see a cervine of some sort desperately staring at it and holding himself.

"What's wro-" Wes began, only to be cut off by the clearly struggling other.
"Both sides are out of order," he huffed.

"Oh," the realization made the pressure between his legs spike, making him instinctively press them together. Sympathizing with the other's plight, he turned and began walking downtown again, searching for another restroom.

After a short while he gave up. He could make it home in time. This wouldn't be the first time he'd needed to hold it. So with an inward shrug, he continued to walk towards his place. It was only three miles away, how bad could it be?


Much worse than he'd anticipated, of course.


The pressure inside him only grew, and pretty soon it was becoming hard to focus on anything else. As he walked Wes would squirm uncomfortably, his legs pressed tightly together and his lower muscles clutched. This, of course, made walking a little awkward.

A small, sharp squeak escaped him when he felt a wave of desperation hit, making him stop in is tracks. With a small gulp, the fox looked down at himself. His eyes widened when he saw the huge bulge that was slowly moving from his stomach and into his bladder. Already it felt full, but it was clear there was still quite a bit of liquid in his stomach, that of which now rapidly making its way south.

He picked up his pace some, trotting towards his destination rather than walking. This, however, only made things worse for him, and he soon had to stop as another wave of desperation- this one worse than the last- took over his body.

Thankfully, there weren't many other furs around now, as the sun had set. Most of the night crowd were in their clubs, a few lingered outside for a smoke or some fresh air, so he didn't need to worry to much about making a fool of himself.

Wes let out a quiet groan as another sudden wave of desperation swept over him. His bladder was so full he now couldn't stand it, stuffing his paws between his legs and pressing them tightly over his crotch. There was no way he'd make it home if he jogged there.

There was a bench nearby, which was shaded by a large tree. Perhaps if he took a brief rest, he could regain control of his bladder. Taking a deep breath, the fox removed his paws and walked over to it, sitting down close to the tree. It was so dark under here that it was unlikely anyone could see his silver fur.

Looking down at himself made him let out an annoyed growl, just as the pressure within him spiked. He slammed his paws back between his legs, crossing them tightly. It was all he could do to keep from wetting himself right then and there. His bladder was passed its maximum, and how it held so much liquid he may never know. It looked as if he'd swallowed a beach ball that was ready to come back out.

Wes squirmed, his vulpine tail curling around his waist. Another wave of desperation hit, making him shudder and whimper. There was no way he'd make it home dry unless he found a place to go.

He glanced around, whimpering again when he realized everything nearby was either closed, members only, or pay-to-enter. There was literally no place he could go around here. A small sigh escaped him as he tried to stand, only to be forced back down and press himself hard into the bench to keep from wetting himself.

The fox removed one hand from his crotch, continuing to hold himself with the other, and rested it on his immensely swollen abdomen. He was filled to the brim. Shifting a few times, he tried to make himself comfortable, only succeeding in making a burning pain stab trough his bladder.

Not even making the faintest attempt to keep still, Wes squirmed and writhed and held himself and pressed himself against the bench and his paw. Waves of desperation were almost constant now as his bladder desperately tried to void itself of its contents. This made him whimper and whine, and he hoped no one around could hear him.

The pain inside him only grew more and more, and he was starting to sweat from the effort of holding back so much liquid. He couldn't move now, let alone stand. Why had he taken that dare? What possessed him to say yes to something so stupid?

He yelped as he felt a small amount of urine escape him. Wes clamped his paws on himself harder, crossing his legs as tightly as he possibly could. Maybe it would help if he laid down?

With a shaky breath, the fox moved to lay on his side, hoping the change of gravity would help him. It didn't at all. In fact, laying on the bench put so much stress on his bladder that the pain of holding his liquids and moving brought him close to tears. He groaned and curled up into a ball, but the action only further worsened his predicament.

Wes was trembling and sweating with the effort to keep himself contained. His bladder contracted in protest, demanding the release that he'd needed for a couple of hours now. Whimpering, he knew that the only way to keep from wetting himself was to drop his jeans and go in public. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind before, be it because he was to desperate or to daft to think of it.

So, the fox tried to sit back up so that he might waddle over into an alley or something and go. That was the last strain his bladder could take. The hot urine burst out of him so hard it hissed, wetting his paws (which he promptly moved away) and jeans very quickly. He tried to stop, but it was no use. His muscles wouldn't comply. All he could do was sit up and wet himself all over the bench.

He'd never been so embarrassed in his life, and he was more than thankful that there was nobody around to see him now.

The beach ball in his lower abdomen showed no sign of getting smaller, and his pants were already drenched. With a resigned sigh, he pressed both his paws on the massive bulge and spread his legs some, forcing the liquid out so that he could get this over with. Urine dripped off the bench and onto the ground, surely making a puddle, though it was to dark to see it.

It was quite a long time before his bladder returned to its normal size, and even when it did, he still went for a good forty seconds longer. When Wes had finally finished, he jumped up and sprinted all the way back to his apartment, tossing his jeans in the wash and hopping into the shower, praying that Jessie had been to tired to wake up from his nap on the couch to notice him.