Cassiopeia arrived at the front door of a hulking metal airship, panting. It looked like a giant clothes iron on its flat hovering base, with a glass dome on the top level, a wooden dock structure built around the back acting as a back porch, distinctive rounded windows, and a shiny silvered hull. Cassiopeia was here, in an airship docking yard on a high plateau in the middle of nowhere, for a job interview.

According to the digital display on Cassiopeia's wristwatch, it was 09:18. Her interview had been scheduled for nine. Having stayed at an inn at the base of the plateau, she'd overslept and rushed out the door, throwing on her coat and only taking the time to comb her long green hair out and wrangle it up into a haphazard bun. She hadn't even had the chance to use the bathroom that morning, and her full bladder was straining as she knocked on the rounded metal hatch that served as the craft's front door.

After two tries and five minutes, it was starting to look like the dock owner either wasn't home or wasn't answering the door. Cassiopeia turned around to look at the dockyard: it was a cold late-summer morning, and a thick fog blanketed the plateau. There was a squat shed in the distance, but no bathrooms around. The same deciduous trees that populated most of the area surrounded the yard, offering her best chance at cover, trailing off in the fog. Cassiopeia's bladder throbbed, and she pressed her legs together: she decided that she would knock one more time, and if there was no answer she would hurry back to the dockyard entrance, go into the trees and finally have her morning pee-

A shadow caught Cassiopeia's eye from the other end of the yard, speeding toward her: a pair of dark blue wings, with lighter beige tips like a peacock's. They were attached to a tall figure, who landed gracefully on a nearby walkway. Folding their wings behind them, the figure strode forward through the fog: it was a woman, tall, wearing coveralls and a pair of green-tinted goggles, with dusky blue hair pulled back in a knitted headband.

"C-Cassiopeia Will-" the figure puffed, stopping to catch her breath when she reached Cassiopeia, towering over her. "Cassiopeia Williams?"

"That's me," said Cassiopeia, a little intimidated as the winged woman removed her goggles. She wasn't wearing makeup, but she had high cheekbones and an elegant face, pink from the effort of gliding across the yard. It made Cassiopeia feel crumpled and sloppy in comparison.

"Hi," panted the woman. "I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long." She approached Cassiopeia and held up one gloved hand in greeting. Cassiopeia touched palms with her. "I'm Mayra Eneko."

Mayra led Cassiopeia into the large hovercraft. The front door entered into a small mudroom on the bottom level, with a closed hatchlike door on the left and a stairwell to the right. Mayra removed her work boots and Cassiopeia followed suit, pulling off her shoes. After that, Mayra led the way up the stairwell to the next floor, which housed an open kitchen and living area. There didn't appear to be a bathroom, and Cassiopeia tried not to look desperate to pee when Mayra directed her to sit down at a small table next to a round window overlooking a small, disused orchard behind the hovercraft.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" asked Mayra, stopping at the sink to wash her hands. Seeing the running water made Cassiopeia twist her legs together under the kitchen table. It didn't help that Cassiopeia wasn't wearing any underwear under her dress, and the cold seat of the chair against her butt made her need to pee even worse.

"Not yet," said Cassiopeia. "I overslept a little and left in a bit of a hurry this morning." It wasn't a lie, but she omitted how late she'd been.

"If you help me out by making coffee, I'll make us some food," said Mayra.

Cassiopeia accepted the offer, and had breakfast with Mayra. They discussed the job and pay over egg toast and coffee. When they'd finished eating, Mayra showed Cassiopeia around the yard.

It was still chilly outside when they exited Mayra's hovercraft, but after hot food and coffee, Cassiopeia didn't mind the cold as much. She hadn't, however, had the guts to ask Mayra to use the bathroom. As she followed Mayra along the grid of walkways that made up the dockyard, Cassiopeia's lower belly became painfully taut. About halfway across the yard, a hot drip of fluid warmed her vulva. Without any underwear to soak into, it ran down her thigh under her skirt. Beside her, Mayra didn't seem to notice: she was happily gushing on about her update of the dockyard's radio tower.

"Right now I'm adjusting the power flow. Once it's finished, I'll be able to call people as far away as the coast without pissing away money using the land line-" Mayra paused, looking up. A radio tower sat on the outer edge of the yard, looming large in the thinning fog. A bright red light flashed near the top, and Mayra paused when she saw it.

"Whoops. Wait here a sec, Miss Williams," Mayra said suddenly, and strode down a nearby set of stairs off the walkway toward the tower. Cassiopeia waited for her near the top of the stairs on the walkway. Another drip of urine leaked out of Cassiopeia under her skirt. Her vulva was quivering from the effort of holding back her overfilled bladder, and it would've felt good if she hadn't been mortified that Mayra might turn around and see her at any second.

Watching Mayra's wings bobbing as she climbed the ladder, Cassiopeia found that she couldn't stop herself from leaking. If she released just enough to relieve the pressure, she might be able to make it to a bathroom, whether she got up the nerve to ask to use Mayra's or had to trek all the way back to the inn at the bottom of the plateau. With a massive effort, Cassiopeia stepped as casually as she could down the stairs and spread her feet a little, her urethra burning in anticipation as she looked up. Her host was facing away from her, opening a panel on the radio tower's exterior.

Unable to hold it back any longer, Cassiopeia let go. It started slow and hot, and felt nice in the cool air. She suppressed the urge to sigh aloud and allowed herself a long, quiet exhalation. She listened to the piss pattering on the ground for a long moment, glad that it wasn't soaking into her socks anymore.

After what felt like too short a time, Cassiopeia clamped down on her kegel muscles to stop herself. It was difficult, but the worst of the pressure had been relieved. She'd stopped just in time: Mayra finished whatever she was doing on the tower and pushed off from her perch, spreading her wings and allowing herself to glide back down in a wide arch. She landed on the ground a few meters away from Cassiopeia, the fog swirling around her. Cassiopeia straightened up and tried to look like she hadn't just urinated on her prospective employer's property.

"Thank you for waiting," said Mayra. "If you accept the job, don't worry, you won't have to deal with Bessie here." Mayra indicated the radio tower with a broad wave of her arm.

Cassiopeia wanted to ask why the radio tower had been named Bessie, but another question escaped her: "Accept the job?"

"It's yours if you want it," said Mayra matter-of-factly.

Cassiopeia accepted the job, and she and Mayra scheduled to meet again the next day at noon. They walked back toward Mayra's airship, and Cassiopeia had just taken a breath to ask Mayra to use her bathroom when a high-pitched keening noise rang across the yard from the direction of the radio tower. Mayra stopped and sighed, exasperated, "That's what I get for buying from a scrap yard," Mayra mumbled to herself, then said to Cassiopeia: "Sorry to cut this short, Miss Williams, but Bessie's calling. Again. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Cassiopeia, nodding goodbye to Mayra while she jogged away. Cassiopeia crossed her legs. She hadn't realized how much she'd been counting on being able to use Mayra's bathroom, and under her skirt, her vulva was warm and quivering again. She knew she wouldn't be able to make it all the way to the inn: the fastest way into town was a long, winding set of stairs down the cliffs at the edge of the plateau, set into a sheer cliff in several places. It was safe, but it was nerve-wracking, and the staircase was visible to half the town below.

A small trail just outside the entrance to the yard led off into the trees, and Cassiopeia hurried along it. The trail led down a gentle incline around the side of the high plateau, and close by there was small stone outcropping with a sheltered area underneath. Cassiopeia was beginning to leak uncontrollably again, and half-waddled to the cover of the outcropping, leaving a trail in the damp dirt.

Cassiopeia hiked up her skirt as she reached the mouth of the small shelter, looking up to glance at her surroundings. The first thing she saw was a wide view of the town at the foot of the plateau and the lake it sat around, its water turning from silvery gray to bright blue under the thinning clouds. She tensed her vaginal muscles in a futile effort to stop the leak while her stomach did a bladder-compressing somersault. She was almost a kilometer away from most of it and forty meters up on the plateau; though seeing the town spread out before her made her heart race, no one would be able to see her at that distance.

"Not without a telescope anyway," Cassiopeia snorted to herself, spreading her legs and squatting down. Even if someone could see her, she knew she wasn't going to regain control of her bladder. Like the last time, the initial release was slow and messy, picking up into a stream as she relaxed. Cassiopeia allowed herself a long, deep sigh of relief, reaching down to spread her labia and steer the loud, hissing flow. What would anyone do if they saw her, anyway? Run into the streets proclaiming that Cassiopeia Araluen Williams had been caught exposing herself?

"It's indecent," Cassiopeia giggled to herself, looking down at her pussy. It was very pink, and her clitoris was visibly swollen, wiggling slightly while her hot urine gushed out beneath.

Cassiopeia pushed on her bladder, spraying an arch in the direction of the town below. The bright yellow piss splashed on the leafy ground in front of her, slowing abruptly after about ten seconds. Cassiopeia imagined what her former caretakers had called a "nice human boy," seeing her through a telescope, gasping in chaste horror. Cassiopeia tweaked her clitoris lightly; it was even more sensitive than she'd expected and threw off her already-precarious balance. Cassiopeia fell backward on her butt, just barely clear of the wet spot on the ground. It didn't matter - not having to focus on squatting, she could concentrate more on what she was doing. Finding her clitoris a little too sensitive, she explored her labia, and she was wet enough to slide three fingers easily into her vagina. In Cassiopeia's mind, she replayed the "nice human boy's" cartoonishly scandalized reactions. It made her vulva tingle.

Cassiopeia alternated between fingering herself, rubbing her vulva in broad circles, and tightening those circles on her hard clitoris. It had been over a week since Cassiopeia had even thought of masturbating, and the urgent tension between her legs built up much faster than usual. Her body started to twitch, and she slowed down her hand a little.

In Cassiopeia's imagination, the "nice human boy" was still watching despite himself, cradling a noticeable bulge forming in his pants. Cassiopeia's hand seemed to speed back up on its own, cramping a little, but she didn't think she could stop anyway.

Cassiopeia felt her orgasm coming on and stifled a gasp when the first contractions rocked her hips. It bulldozed her senses in hot waves, and her body writhed uncontrollably. She felt a couple more squirts of piss escape her, but she was too busy trying to keep her moans quiet to care.

Warm and shaky as she finished up, Cassiopeia scooted back on the dirt a little, panting. The spot she sat in was beginning to warm up, catching the first dappled beams of sunlight through the fog and trees. She sat back, legs open with her pussy wet and twitching. She would need to get back to the inn at some point, but for now, she wasn't in a hurry. In the valley below, a ferry shoved off on the near side of the lake, and she watched it drift slowly across.

As usual, it didn't take long for the urge to pee to strike again, and this time, Cassiopeia was ready for it: she spread her legs a little wider and let go. A strong, easy jet of piss arced up into the air, sparkling in the sunlight. She leaned back a little as she let the last of the warm fluid run lazily into the damp ground. Feeling more relieved and more relaxed than she had in weeks, Cassiopeia lay back and let sleep overtake her.

Pub: Jan 30 2021 06:02 UTC
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