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Doodle Story: Slight Nuisance

The rottweiler grunted four times before he placed the barbell back into its uprights. The sweaty canine started to pant and exhaled as he slowly sat up and sighed. The muscular rottweiler wiped some of the sweat from his forehead before he glanced up ahead and sighed with frustration. The bathrooms were still under repair, and the dog still had to urinate. He didn't have to go badly, but it was hard for him to bottle up his fluids each time he worked out. The rottweiler looked down at his black t-shirt and black wind pants with white stripes on the side before sighing again. He had been working out for the past hour without taking a break; he was forcing himself not to drink anymore water so he wouldn't agitate his already full bladder. But after bench pressing for several minutes, the dog just had to take a small swig. Of course, small in the rottweiler's mind was six ounces of the forty-eight-ounce bottle of water he had. He chugged the cold fluids before putting the bottle down and sighing. He thought about peeing outside, but he heard rumors that a few furs and scaleys had been banned from the gym for doing so. He also thought about running to a nearby store; the gym was located not far from a small shopping complex. But something told the canine to ignore the little pain in his bladder. He didn't have to go that badly, and he was only gonna be in the gym for another hour or two. He could hold it.

The buff canine stood up from the bench and started to jog around the indoor track, timing himself to see how many laps he could do in twenty minutes. As he ran the dog panted and felt that same overflowing feeling in his bladder again. It kept distracting him from his jogging; he actually stopped running because he thought he was about to piss himself. But when he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, his bladder felt fine. There was no risk of his bladder exploding and staining his pants; it must've just been all the jogging. The rottweiler exhaled with relief before he stopped the stopwatch. He ran around the track twenty times before his bladder interrupted him and he had to stop. The canine caught his breath before he guzzled down another six ounces of his beverage and sighed. There was no point in running; his desperation would end up getting in the way. That's when the rottweiler spotted an old friend of his working at the leg press machine. He smiled before he ran over and greeted the German Shepard.

"If it ain't my old friend Sandells!"

The German Shepard grunted as he pushed the weights up on the machine and held them up with his powerful legs. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the buff rottweiler looking down at him and grinning.

"Hey...Wyley," he said, his voice strained.

The German Shepard locked the weights back into place before he got off the machine and stood up to greet the dog.

"Been a long time buddy. You finally decided to get rid of some of that weight in your gut?"

Craig had grown a bit chubby over the past few months. He was still toned and had impeccable abs, but a small gut was beginning to show. If Craig waited any longer, he'd end up having a musclegut, and would probably lose his muscles too.

"Yeah, I've been busy with my girlfriend. Don't get me wrong; I love that she's into wat...um...stuff, but she's so clingy."

Wyley got onto the diagonal sled-like leg press machine and lay down on the seat. He put his footpaws against the metal plate, undid the small bracket holding the weights up, and started to push the weights up and down.

"Clingy...you say?"

"Yeah, I can't go anywhere without her following me! The only reason why I'm here is because she doesn't want to be surrounded in a place that smells like feet and musk and has too many guys. Hell, one time I flat-out told her I was going to the bar to get drunk and throw up on furs and she wanted to come anyway."

Wyley grunted and held the weights up after doing ten leg presses. "Maybe...she likes...getting puked on?"

Craig snickered. "Trust me; this bitch may be into a lot of kinky stuff, but she's definitely not into that."

Wyley grunted again and began to pant. "What-URGH! What stuff?"

"Uh, you know..." The German Shepard scratched the back of his head before he abruptly dropped the subject. The rottweiler could see he didn't want to get into it, so he left it alone and continued to leg press. Craig spotted him as he exercised his leg muscles. After thirty leg presses, the burly dog started to pant and sweat. His legs were beginning to shake and the rottweiler was gritting his teeth. Wyley tried to force himself to do more, but his body (and bladder) couldn't take it. He locked the weights back into place before exhaling and rolling out of the machine. He grabbed his container of water and chugged another large amount, still wondering when the repairfurs would fix the bathroom. Meanwhile, Craig Sandells grabbed his crotch and slowly began to pant. He was wearing dark red nylon shorts and a gray tank-top. The German Shepard groaned before he swore out of frustration and approached the wall.

"Wyley...do you know how long it'll be before they finish repairing the bathrooms? I gotta piss like a fuckin' horse."

"Yeah, so do I."

"No, I mean I can't hold it much longer."

Wyley could see where this was going. He walked over to the German Shepard and stood beside him. "Uh, Craig?"

The German Shepard looked left and right before grasping his groin with both paws. "No one's watching me, right?"

"You can't piss on the wall, Craig! Furs got banned for peeing on the wall outside the gym!"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't pee on the wall."

"Well then what...you can't be fucking serious."

Craig Sandells removed his paws and looked left and right again. Besides Wyley, no one was around or watching him. He decided that bottling up all his urine wasn't worth it and promptly started to piss his shorts. Craig sighed with a smile on his face as the urine hissed loudly; it created a large dark stain that rapidly spread around his musky speedos and nylon shorts. His urine started to spread all around his shorts; there was so much of it that it was already beginning to leak onto the floor. Wyley swore and took a step back. The dog's pee trickled onto the floor noisily and started to form a small puddle by his footpaws. At first, the urine simply trickled out, but Craig pushed harder and the trickling soon turned into a stream. The rottweiler blushed; he was more embarrassed than Craig was. He watched the dark yellow stream of musky fluids splatter on the ground, making the puddle bigger and bigger until it reached Craig's footpaws. Almost the entire front side of Craig's shorts was drenched in the fluids; anyone who saw them would immediately know he failed to make it to the bathroom. But the German Shepard didn't care. He was just glad to get rid of his bladder trauma.

The dog's massive stream of urine began to turn into small trickles again. He was finally finished. Craig sighed again before glancing left and right. There was still no one watching him--except Wyley, whose eyes were wide.

"Please tell me you didn't just piss yourself."

Craig smirked. "I can, but I'd be lying."

"Why would--" Wyley quickly stood behind Craig and tried to cover his puddle when a jogger passed them. "Why would you just stand there and wet yourself?! You seriously couldn't hold it in?!"

"I've been in this gym a lot longer than you have, and I've been chugging a lot more fluids. Every goddamn time I asked the repairfurs when the bathrooms would be fixed, they always said 'in another ten minutes.' The bathrooms have been busted for over two hours now--it's like they want us to wet ourselves."

"Why didn't you just run down the street and use one of the other stores' bathrooms?!"

"Why haven't you done that? Don't you gotta pee too?"

"No, that's different! I can hold it!"

"I said that same thing an hour ago. I tried to ignore it too; I thought working out and waiting until the bathroom was repaired would keep me distracted from my full bladder. But it didn't. Wyley, it doesn't matter if you go in your pants, the wall, the floor, the toilet, the ceiling, even in your mouth--"

"Craig!"

The German Shepard sighed. "What I'm saying is that sooner or later, you're gonna take that piss. If you don't want to ruin your pants, that's fine. Run over to another shop and use their toilet right this minute. But if you're like me and you don't want a minor inconvenience spoiling your perfectly good workout schedule, you're better off just standing where you are and letting nature take its. Frankly, I'd rather work out with wet shorts than a full bladder, but that's just me."

Craig exhaled after talking for so long and glanced to his left and right. They were still alone.

"That is a miracle. I've been jabbering this whole time and still no one's noticed what I did."

The German Shepard picked up Wyley's water bottle and abruptly poured water over his shorts and the puddle on the floor.

"What are you doing?!"

"What? Now if anyone asks, I can just say you spilled water on me."

The German Shepard handed the bottle back to Wyley before he started to walk off. "You think about what I said, bro. It's only one pair of pants!"

Wyley blinked as he saw Craig get onto the indoor track and run along the path. He felt the same pain in his groin again and began to wonder if what he said was true. After all, he was wearing black. Even if he pissed himself, the stain wouldn't be very visible from afar. He could possibly...

"No, no, forget it. I'll just...try not to strain myself when I work out. I'm sure that'll work."

And so, for another forty-five minutes Wyley went around the gym working out on all the other machines. Unfortunately, his bladder issues only got worse. When he was on the shoulder press machine, he had to stop after doing ten because he thought he was gonna piss himself. He immediately got off and went over to the leg curl machine. He sighed with relief as he began to exercise. Since he was lying face down and applying more pressure to his groin, he couldn't piss himself if he wanted to. At worst a few drops would trickle out. The only problem was that the pressure in his bladder doubled and distracted him even more. Eventually he decided it wasn't worth it, and got off the leg curl machine to do pull ups. That didn't work either; everytime he got his chin over the bar, he thought he would end up leaking in mid-air. He quickly got off the bar and swore to himself. The only thing on his mind ever since he talked to Craig was about wetting himself. And judging by the way his body was acting, he was gonna go through with it. But Wyley still had one last thing he wanted to try out.

The sweaty, muscular rottweiler walked over to a barbell resting on the floor with a few oversized plates stuck to each end. He didn't bother adding more plates; he'd be pushing his luck if he did. So the dog squatted, grabbed the barbell, and began to grunt as he started to lift it into the air. He gritted his teeth as he gradually began to lift the barbell up to his waist. The rottweiler squatted some before he grunted and began to raise the bar higher and higher, unaware of how much pressure he was putting on his bladder. He huffed and grunted again as he finally began to raise the bar over his head. He was still gritting his teeth and straining himself. Once the bar was finally above his ears and his arms were up in the air, he whimpered. A few drops of urine began to trickle into his underwear. He quickly stopped himself before he began to flood his pants, but that just made it worse. The muscle-bound dog shut his eyes as he held the bar up; he would always get into a contest with Craig to see who could hold up their barbell longer before throwing it on the ground. Whenever the German Shepard wasn't there, he'd just time himself or do back squats. Wyley could still feel more pain in his bladder, and another few drops of urine began to come out. It was right then that Wyley realized no matter what he did, the urge to urinate would bother him and screw up his workout routine. He knew he was probably gonna regret it, but at this point he didn't care anymore. If anything, he was surprised he got the barbell above his head, unlike the woman he saw in a YouTube video that showed her wetting herself.

Still holding the barbell, Wyley grunted and released all the contents of his bladder. A small dark stain appeared on the front side of his pants and began to spread quickly. The dog exhaled as the warm, yellow urine began to trickle down his legs. He was wetting himself as badly as Craig did; the small trickle quickly turned into rivulets, and his piss started to drip onto the floor. He could hear his pee hissing as it came out of his penis shortly before feeling something wet on his footpaws. The stain on his pants was dark and humongous. The piss bled through the material and dripped onto the floor, creating a small puddle that began to expand. Wyley exhaled again, glad that he finally felt relief--even if it was in a rather humiliating way. The dripping sound intensified; he was letting it all out now. The puddle quickly began to expand and the stain on his pants had completely darkened the dog's crotch. It was even beginning to spread around his legs, thighs and part of his butt. He was still holding the barbell, surprised at how light it seemed now that most of his piss was gone. He glanced at the floor and realized just how large his puddle was. Both of his footpaws were covered in pee from all the streams that slithered down his legs. The musky scent was so strong he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to wear the trousers again without someone realizing he had an accident at one point in his life.

Eventually, the flow of urine began to cease, and the muscular dog sighed with a wide smile on his face. He threw down the barbell before looking down at his wet pants and sighing again.

"Shit...that feels so much better now."

Everything was going swell until a green dragon in a blue wrestling singlet spotted him while he was jogging on the track. The reptile holding a water bottle glanced at Wyley and his dripping pants before he raised an eyebrow and stopped running.

"Did you piss your pants?"

Wyley looked up at the dragon and froze. He would've pissed himself with fear if he hadn't already drained his bladder. There was no point in denying it. There was a puddle underneath him and the evidence was still dripping from his pants. Even if he did what Craig did and dumped water on his pants, it wouldn't matter. The stench would've exposed him.

"Um...yeah," he said meekly.

The dragon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank God. I thought I was the only one."

Wyley looked down at the dragon's spandex wrestling outfit. He had a large stain on his crotch too, although most of it had dried out; he must've peed himself an hour ago.

"You know these assholes have been working on the bathrooms since yesterday? I swear these guys must want us to piss ourselves. They know damn well we're not gonna fuck up out workout schedule just to run down the street and use someone else's toilet! Our routines are like remote controls: are we really gonna get up and change the channel when we have a perfectly good working remote lying beside us?"

"I know right?!"

"You got lucky though. I pissed myself while I was wrestling with a friend. And on top of that there was a small crowd watching us..."

Wyley inhaled sharply. "Damn...that sucks."

"Yeah," said the dragon, looking away and blushing. "Uh, don't worry about the puddle; I'll clean it up. And if anyone asks,"

The rottweiler yelped when the dragon abruptly dumped the contents of his water bottle all over his groin and pants.

"I spilled water all over you."

Wyley started to smile again. "Thanks man. I owe you one."

It seemed that luck was on the dog's side today. The only fur or scaley who saw him was a dragon who was just as outraged about the broken bathrooms. Had the rottweiler taken a closer look at a few other furs, he would've noticed that quite a few of them were forced to piss their pants or shorts. The bulky dog smiled as he headed over to the section of the gym housing the barbells. He promptly grabbed two heavy ones and began to lift them with ease. Now that the bothersome pain in his groin was gone, he could exercise without anymore problems. At worst, he'd have to explain to some of the other bodybuilders, wrestlers or gymnasts why there was a giant stain on his pants. Wyley was about to lift his dumbbells for the sixth time when he heard a loud slam. Someone else had dropped their dumbbells to the floor. The rottweiler looked to his right and saw Craig staring at him with a smug grin on his face. The German Shepard had clearly seen the stain.

"You pissed your pants, didn't you?"

"Shut up."