Let's call me Rayne for the sake of keeping the secret side blog a secret! I use they/them and xe/xem pronouns. I'm an oriented aroace (though the oriented part confuses even me sometimes, I'm at least sapphic, possibly pan with a sapphic lean).
This isn't exactly a kink blog (please don't send me sexual things), but more a place for me to explore certain interests that I can't really do elsewhere. Might feature NSFW on occasion (I have commonly said I am more interested in sex scientifically than personally), but those will be tagged as such.
Just for the sake of my comfort and how this blog is to explore side interests that can be sexual (even if they're not inherently), I'd strongly prefer minors DNI.
I'll probably write primarily with ocs, but I will dabble into fandom on occasion (the only one I feel comfortable and confident writing is Naruto, though probably more in an au version of events that's taken over my brain than canon lol)
Things I am very interested in:
😍 sickfics! (Love me a good sickfic, especially one with nausea/vomiting)
😍 omorashi/pee desperation (don't care which set of equipment is involved; just give me squirmy folks)
😍 general whump (there are some limits to this one, but in general, give me hurt characters and caregivers of all sorts)
😍 recovery whump (I just discovered this one recently, and I am in love)
Things I'm sorta interested in:
😳 diapers (NOT in an age play sort of way; more as an unconventional place to pee)
😳 watersports (not a fan of peeing all over someone in general, but lap wettings? Those I accept)
😳 degradation (only as a scene for rp purposes; gimme cozy aftercare once its done)
Things I'm NOT interested in:
😳 a-b-o/omegaverse (only when done in non transphobic ways; very few accomplish this, so if you have any recs, please send 'em my way!)
😳 nsfwhump/noncon (I'm more interested in the recovery aspect of this than graphic descriptions, but I do enjoy it in moderation)
😖 scat/messing/whatever it's commonly called (no offense to those who do enjoy it; it just grosses me out in the not fun way)
😖 ageplay/abdl (I've read some things involving it, and it just doesn't tickle my fancy)
Hey, before this meeting starts, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick… Oh, your schedule is really that tight? OK, let’s just make it a quick chat then!
Having someone grinding against their pillow on the morning because they are so desperate but you have your arm wrapped around them and they wouldn't want to leave you not even for the whole world. Not even if they slowly pee themselves, leaking against their pillow as they try their best to hold their tiny needy whines back because now they are not just desperate to pee, they are also turned on for being so naughty.
Sounds like a dream. Where can I find someone like this? Asking for a friend
when he pulls his dick out and the piss is already flying out!! when he rips his cock out of his pants and piss just gets everywhere!! when he scrambles to get his dick out and his pants are already damp and yet he's doing his best to not wet himself completely. ugh i love that shit
Making someone wrap their legs around you while their desperate is so underated. All squirmy and they can't even cross their legs, grinding themselves into you just to hold it in a little longer. And when they finally loose control and have an accident, you get too tease them about pissing all over you. Yes please.
You guys know wetting is my thing, but can we all take a moment to appreciate when a character juuuuust makes it?
The thought of them scrambling to the toilet, shifting their hips side to side as they fumble with their zipper, and their legs are trembling because they have to go so bad…or when there’s no toilets around, but they’re soooo desperate they use a container/training potty instead
They somehow manage to free themselves from their jeans and are finally able to let go, making the sound of a loud, forceful hiss fill the room. All while they’re gasping and moaning and shaking from the relief
After they’re done, they zip up their jeans and blush at the noticeable wet patch from when they leaked. Their friend/sibling/spouse lends them a jacket to hide the spot, meanwhile they just hope no one can smell the faint scent of pee on their jeans
She’s crossing her legs and staring at the map of the nature trail, frantically searching for a restroom. But there are none for at least another mile, and she’s already close to wetting herself. It only took a little thermos full of water and an hour of hiking to get her to this point, and you watch as she squirms and dances there helplessly, knowing she only has two choices— wet herself or pee in the woods.
“I can’t do it. What if someone sees?” She asks. But the pressure is so intense. She can feel it right there, about to spill out of her if she tries to wait any more. You assure her you’ll keep guard, and together you stumble off the path as she tucks both of her hands between her thighs. She finds a tree to hide behind and looks around before starting to undo her shorts. She’s shaking both from the desperate need to release her bladder and from the nervousness that comes with being so exposed in public. But finally, just as it’s dripping out of her and she can no longer control it, she drops her dampened panties and shorts just in time. You can hear the hiss and splash as it rushes out of her and she sighs in relief.
When they are tensing every muscle, pressing their legs together as tightly as they can, telling themselves to hold it and it’s trickling out anyway… that’s true desperation
“Oh, fuck, no, I really can’t hold it anymore,” he says, frantically undoing his belt. Piss is already pouring out of him, and you can see the dark stain on his light gray briefs clear as day as he pushes them out of the way to free his cock. “I need to piss, I need to piss,” he chants as he hurries, finally getting a hand on his dick and aiming himself. The weak stream turns into an absolute torrent, everything pouring out of him at last.
He looked between the GPS of his uber ride on his phone and the door back inside his office. His bladder was insistent, aching. He could feel the pressure starting in the tip of his cock. He hadn’t realized how badly he had to go and how long he had been holding until he stood from sitting down at the computer for hours, walking outside to wait. Gravity hit gradually until it slowly became urgent.
Right as he changed his mind, doing a small pee dance, turning to walk inside, his Uber arrived, beeping. “You’re Micheal?”
Micheal cursed to himself. He now had forty-five minutes until he got home. He sighed, walking as normal as possible and getting into the back seat, getting the seatbelt on. “Yeah. Hi.”
“Hi. Hope you enjoy the ride.” The man said with a friendly smile. He was older, probably retired and wanting something to do.
The car lurched gently as he pressed the gas, shocking his bladder. Micheal gripping the car door on a white knuckle grip to keep his bladder together.
It took ten aganozonf monutes for his bladder to adjust and settle, breathing through it. He calmed once the urgent feeling dulled to a throb.
Then halfway home the man had to stop the car very suddenly. Startling him, the seat belt suddenly tightened around his bladder and what little control he had slipped for a moment as he leaked. He cursed, tightening legs as best he could, trembling as he got the leak under control but now he was more desperate than ever in a strangers car.
“What’s going on?” He asked, holding the door handle like a pregnant woman in labor.
The olas man huffed. “Traffic jam. Don’t worry, I won’t add this to your bill. We should be clear of it in ten minutes.”
“Oh, ok.” Micheal said as a wave of desperation went through him, his cock threatening to leak again. He couldn’t do this. He moved his bag onto his lap, bringing a hand under to hide as he held his cockhead.
He could only watch as they sluggishly got acrosss the high way. His bladder aching and desperate and eventually calmed as they finaly got past the accident that caused the jam.
With the car driving smoothly, he relaxed the slightest. He could do this. He wasn’t going to wet himself in the back of a stranger’s car.
Even holding himself he managed to leak. He was so tense he was trembling as they pulled onto his steeet. When he saw his house he tensed as the most urgent wave of desperation came over him. A leak escaping despite his tight hold. Fuck, how is he supposed to get out of the car?
The man parked. “Here you go. Have a good rest of your night.”
Micheal nodded shakily. “Yeah, you…you too.” He replied nervously. He used his free hand to undo the belt buckle and then the car door.
He could only hope of hiding as he wet himself. He took his hand away and he was thankful he seemed to have a few good seconds where it wasn’t urgent as he managed to get out.
Once he stops was different.
His body was already peeing, leaking steadily. He cursed, going back to holding himself as the car drove away. Now with the car gone, he can whine, writhe and hold himself. “Please…I’m right here..just one more minute..” he pleaded with his body as he walked awkwardly to his front door.
Once to the door he did the most intense pee dance, feeling like a child. He got his keys with trembling hands, his cock steadily leaking as he lined the key up but with his hands trembling, he missed the hole, dropping his keys.
He bent down and Suddenly it wasn’t leaking anymore. He moved to hold himself, trying in vain to keep it all in, tensing with effort but his body didn’t listen, shivering and whining. “No…no, stop..”
He gasped at the euphoria of finally getting to release. It was so much and so good he leaned against the door,moaning softly as he made a pale yellow puddle below him, trickling down his legs, staining his pants.
It must have been a full minute, maybe more before he was done. Once the euphoria wore off, shame filled him as he quickly got his keys that now were covered in his pee. He opened the door without another word and walked inside.
i love when someone is desperate and the urge gets so bad for just a second that they have to dance/squirm harder and make those adorable and panicked "ah ah ah ah-" noises
lazy Saturday morning omo where she wakes up needing to piss but wants to sleep in more, so she rolls over and ignores her need. every time she’s pulled away from sleep, she just readjusts herself, first simply laying on her side with her legs together, but soon bunching up her blankets tight between her thighs. eventually, her bladder won’t let her go back to sleep fully, but she still doesn’t want to get up, still wants to relax and doze off, so she pulls the covers tighter and crosses her ankles for good measures. the pressure her legs feels good when she shifts and squeezes, and she soon has to in order to keep control. subtle thigh clenching becomes occasional rubbing and eventually desperate little ruts while she pulls the cover tighter up. when it reaches the point of really urgent, the level of desperation where she knows she’s going to start leaking soon if she doesn’t bolt now, she’s muffling moans in her pillow and humping the blanket from more than just desperation. her thin pyjama shorts are wet long before she leaks, sticking to her quivering pussy and swollen little clit. every time it rubs on the covers, she feels herself pulse inside and add to the wetness. when she first leaks, she doesn’t even feel the difference because of how wet she already is, only experiencing a flash of heat before it joins with the rest. gasping, she crosses her legs, the cover still trapped between them, and hastens her pace. when the drops turn to full spurts, she only doubles down on her grinding. heat rises inside her with every thrust against the wet material and every pulse of warmth. there’s a growing wet spot on the blankets, one that’s approaching real troublesome to deal with, but she’s too turned on and too close to care. she keeps spurting, keeps humping and biting down breathless little gasps of pleasure, and every time it feels like a tantalizing glimpse of the orgasm building up. when she loses control for several long seconds, a loud hiss resonates and she almost panics, pulling the covers as tight as she can between her legs. the flow dims, is forced to stop by sheer pressure, she trembles, and then her muscles throb again, allowing another spurt out, and that’s when she finally comes. it takes her almost by surprise, and quite violently too. she gasps, tenses all over, and shivers, as her pussy uncontrollably throbs and clenches down. she humps hard and fast with no rhythm or reason, rubbing her clit right into the covers, as she squirts and gushes all over them. by the time pleasure starts receding, she’s shaking and unable to keep holding at all. she finally empties the rest of her bladder, letting go of all the tension in her body, allowing it to happen now that it’s too late anyways. she gently grinds through it, savouring the aftershocks and the relief of finally letting go.
seems like this Saturday will be a laundry day then.
God godddd I love desperation I need to see my fav subtly shifting and only able to adjust rather than grab himself himself just super desperate and trying so hard not to show it barely crossing his legs before uncrossing them again because it's too suspicious and squeezing his thighs together and shivering and his fingers twitching because he wants to shove his hand between his legs and hold properly but he can't balling his fists or holding his sleeves and trying to stop his lip from quivering and keep down how badly he wants to whine or hiss or something because he's so dead set on not showing it
At first, he thought he could wait. He always could. He was good at it—too good, maybe. Quiet. Controlled. The kind of person who’d bite their tongue until it bled before admitting they needed something.
Even when his bladder began to ache, he stayed silent. Even when the ache turned sharp—gnawing at his insides with each passing minute—he kept his legs still and jaw tight, bouncing one foot rhythmically to distract himself from the pressure building behind his belt.
It wasn’t until he started sweating that he realized he might have made a mistake. He sat curled on the floor, pretending to scroll through his phone, body drawn in tight. The long sleeves of his shirt were damp under his arms. His belt pressed cruelly into the hard swell of his abdomen. His thighs were clenched so tightly his muscles had begun to tremble.
He couldn’t sit still anymore.
He stood too fast and immediately doubled over with a gasp, one hand flying to his lower stomach. The jolt of movement had sent a hot surge of pressure down to his groin. He cursed under his breath, breath ragged.
Someone noticed.
“Hey… you okay?”
He stiffened. Didn’t look at them. Couldn’t.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly. His voice was thin. Brittle.
The other person raised a brow. “You don’t look fine.”
He didn’t answer. Just turned away, pacing in tight circles. Every step was agony. His bladder was screaming. Full to the brim, maybe past it.
“Do you need to—”
“Don’t say it,” he snapped, voice shaking. “I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t.
And five minutes later, he was hunched behind a pile of storage boxes, shaking hands fumbling with a half-empty water bottle he’d found on the floor. His belt had finally been ripped open, jeans tugged just low enough to expose the tip of his cock, but his bladder didn’t wait.
The second he angled himself toward the mouth of the bottle, he let go.
The relief was explosive.
Urine gushed out of him in a violent, endless stream, crashing into the plastic with a sharp hiss. His body sagged from the force of it. His knees buckled. He gasped—high, desperate, half-moan.
The stream didn’t stop. It kept going, surging with each pulse of his bladder, the heat of it stinging his thighs and fogging the inside of the bottle. It filled fast. The bottle wasn’t even meant for this—it was barely 500ml, and he’d been holding more.
Panic twisted in his chest.
“No, no, fuck—” he whispered, voice trembling.
The steaming liquid surged toward the top. His hands were slick with sweat. His fingers trembled. He tried to stop—squeezed his muscles hard, tried to cut the stream—but his body refused.
It overflowed.
Hot piss spilled over the rim of the bottle, pouring down his hand, spraying onto the floor with wet splashes. He gasped again, shame burning through his face. He couldn’t stop it. The stream just kept coming—splattering across the floor, wetting his jeans, pooling beneath him.
He was crying now. Softly, lips trembling, shoulders shaking as he pissed himself into an overflowing bottle like some desperate animal.
“F-fuck,” he gasped, breath catching. “Fucking—shit—why can’t I—”
Behind him, a quiet voice.
“...You should’ve said something.”
He didn’t turn around.
He jolted, nearly dropped the bottle. The stream finally slowed, tapering off into weak, exhausted dribbles. He was soaked—his hand, his thighs, the floor. The bottle was full, his bladder finally empty, his heart hammering.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said hoarsely.
A pause. Then:
“I already did.”
He clenched his eyes shut. His ears burned.
The voice was closer now. Soft. Measured. A little awkward.
“...You really couldn’t hold it anymore, huh?”
He let out a hollow laugh, eyes downcast. “Obviously.”
“Still… if it makes you feel better,” they added, “I think you actually looked kinda—impressive.”
He gave them a look—blushing, bitter, still crying.
Guy waking up hard and half asleep and deciding to jerk himself off. It feeling so good as he moves up and down, using his precum as lube. Mistaking his need to pee as arousal. He's so turned on and feels good all over as he keeps jacking himself off. Feeling himself start to twitch and going faster until he cums. It's a great orgasm, moaning and thrusting more than usual, hips bucking up even after he's finished cumming. And that's when he starts to pee. He feels the warmth on his skin, and then his clothes, and then his bed. He grabs it, of course, tightening his muscles, as he tries to stop soaking himself. It's useless. He keeps peeing, his pajamas and bed soaked. His cheeks are flushed, embarrassed of his accident and his mistake.
