Amara's Curse

[kepee314 81]

I wasn't originally intending to ever post this, by nature I'm more of a lurker. This story is something I've been working on as part of a longer series, so apologies if it seems to take a while to get to the good bits. I tend to get caught up a bit in the world building and character establishment. I'm also nowhere close to a professional writer, so some parts might be unnecessary or redundant.

This chapter contains two scenes of female outdoor peeing.

 

Chapter 1

Amara was cursed. Or, she would be on her 23rd birthday. This is what her mother had told her anyway. She wasn't sure if she really believed it, though. It all seemed rather far-fetched. A curse that makes you uncontrollably urinate after taking even the smallest drink of water? What a strange curse, she thought.

It was true she had never really seen her mother drinking, well, anything, but as a child Amara spent most of her time playing out in the woods behind the inn, and now, as an adult, she worked in the inn so it's not like she really saw her mother for that much of the day.

There was a story behind the curse, of course, her mother had told her that as a teen. Her great-great-great-and so on grandmother, Zareen, was a strong and beautiful warrior of the city of Shara, the great Jewel of the Desert. She was destined from birth to be its queen, selected out of many in a sacred ritual. But her rival, a jealous man always in her shadow, plotted a way for himself to be king instead. As soon as he was crowned, he used his magic to curse Zareen and then exiled her from the city, never to return. The curse was then passed from mother to daughter, through the generations, always on the daughter's 25th birthday.

Or something like that, anyway. It never made much sense to Amara. Her rival got to be king, why would he need to curse and banish her too? And a magic pissing curse? Why that of all things. Surely he could have just made her weak or ugly, something far less contrived.

It didn't really even seem like much of a curse. Amara thought it was actually quite funny. Sure there were a lot of places where you wouldn't want to uncontrollably piss yourself, but peeing was always a little bit fun. The idea of being able to take a sip of water and be immediately full to bursting was a bit exciting.

This feeling only got more intense as she entered adulthood, taking on a sexual aspect for her. Though she hadn't shared that with anyone. For the time being it was her little secret. A secret which she wished she could partake in more often.

Her days at the inn were often quite busy. It was situated a short walk up from the river docks, a busy trade thoroughfare through the Riverlands. Merchants and travelers were always coming and going. Sometimes scholars or even adventurers would come through on their to the mountains to, respectively, measure something about the desert or drive back small fire creatures who had crossed over from it.

The fascinating array of people that came through with all their stories was one of the things that made her job enjoyable. Besides that, she was compensated well enough, free room and board, a small amount of spending money, it was a good deal all things considered. The innkeeper's youngest son, Rand, a childhood friend of Amara, worked there too, often tending bar in the tavern, but serving as a bouncer when patrons became a bit to rowdy.

He was getting married, soon, to the daughter of some merchant...Keen or Kayn or something, Amara always had trouble remembering. He'd always planned to leave the Riverlands, even when they were young he'd talk about it a lot. He was just stricken with a wanderlust, it seemed. His father didn't fully approve, but wouldn't try to stop him. For her it was somewhat disappointing. He had been a lifelong friend and they'd spent a great deal of time together. It was something of a surprise to everyone else that they didn't end up together.

That wasn't really the nature of their relationship. Though Amara had often wondered what he was like in bed. Probably more attentive than the first boy she bedded who seemed to think he had a magic wand that need only be inserted to activate untold depths of pleasure. Probably true for him, Amara thought.

Shaking her head to dispel these thoughts, she rose from her bed and opened the window shutters letting the morning light into her room, pleased to see that it was clear and sunny. Her room was in the attic on the back side of the inn which faced the wooded hills to the west. Today was her day off and she was going to make the most of it.

Getting dressed and grabbing her large traveling water skin, she went down to the kitchen to get some breakfast and a packed lunch of bread and cured meats before heading outside. The sun held suspended over the hills across the river casting its warm light over the the town. Amara stretched, taking in the warmth of the morning sun, before turning and walking towards the back of the inn to fill her water skin at the well.

She had dressed herself in loose fitting linen clothes; a sleeveless tunic and trousers, the most appropriate outfit she had for a hike, her planned activity for the day. Her destination was a secret spot she and Rand had discovered as children. It was a long trek, first on well-worn before deviating into the woods. The whole trip would take most of the morning.

It was warm, but the shade of the woods and morning breeze made it quite cool, easing the effort of the uphill hike. The trail wound its way around the hillside to keep its slope gentle, meeting with other branches that led to other parts of the town. Mostly this trail was used by hunters and trappers heading up into the hills. She didn't encounter any that morning, likely it was too late, most hunters left at daybreak or earlier. They'd be far up in the hills by this point.

One out of sight of the buildings of the town she made to relieve herself on the side of the trail. She had opted not to use the latrines at the inn, as she often opted not to when she needed to pee. The outdoors didn't smell quite so bad so it was preferable. Glancing furtively up and down the trail, she quickly loosened the cord of her trousers then, with one hand she lowered their front. Using her other hand to aim she quickly released a forceful golden stream into the underbrush. She had long practiced this skill, envious of boys being able to do it.

She found this experience intoxicating and planned to have more fun once reaching her destination. For now, though she had to be wary of others that might also be wandering the trail. Although the idea of a strapping young hunter hurrying up the trail and catching her like this was thrilling. Amara imagined him stepping up beside her to take his own piss, having neglected to do so in his haste to get into the hills. In her mind, he'd make small talk as he took his cock out and began to piss. He'd carry on as if it was all as ordinary as standing next to someone at a market stall.

Snapping out of her fantasy, she continued looking up and down the trail. No one was coming. It was just her with the sound of the birds and the breeze through the trees and her own surreptitious stream. The pattering and rustling of her stream playing off the leaves of ivy and twigs it was falling in. This continued for a bit longer than Amara would have liked; she had a surprisingly large bladder. A "quick piss" was not something Amara was familiar with.

Still, it wasn't too much longer until she ran empty. She pushed hard and then abruptly stopped to keep from dribbling before plucking a leaf from a nearby branch to collect the few drops that still clung to her. Discarding the leaf, she refastened her trousers and set back off up the trail. Taking a large swig from her water skin as she did so. She needed to refill for later. 

Amara continued along the still deserted trail, drinking often. As it climbed higher, the trees thinned out somewhat allowing more of the sun's rays down to the ground. It was about mid morning when she reached her turning point, a steep slope through trees and brush down to the small valley separating the hill she was on from the one to the north. At the bottom of this valley was a small brook. Once reaching that she would head upstream until reaching her and Rand's secret spot.

Amara had made this journey hundreds of times by now, her and Rand having figured out the best way down as children. Making her way down to the brook was only about an eighth the distance she had already walked, but would take nearly half the time. The woods here became dense and the ground was steep in places. She followed the carefully plotted route from this tree to that tree, making her way steadily downwards, not forgetting to stop and rest and drink.

Arriving at the brook, it wasn't much further upstream to get to her destination. She needed to refill her water skin, having finished the last of its contents on the way downhill. Mind, this was not a small water skin, had she merely been drinking for hydration she could have made it last perhaps 2 or 3 days. Even longer if she needed to ration it. It was, however, quite heavy when it was full and she was also refilling her bladder and wanted it full when she arrived.  That part of the plan was going well. Maybe a little too well, she thought, as she followed the brook to the west. She was feeling the pressure begin to build rapidly and still had some distance left to cover.

She was unconcerned, of course. Firstly her mother had always stressed the importance of holding it. A much needed skill for bearers of the curse, she was told. Secondly she was deep in the woods, and if she so needed she could go anywhere she pleased without having to worry about being seen. She continued her trek, the urge within her growing, but doing little to slow her down.

At last she came to her destination, a small clearing surrounded by tall trees. At the far end the brook sputtered over a small waterfall and into a shallow pool when then overflowed into the brook Amara had been following. The pool sat in the center of a shallow hole in the surrounding terrain, the dirt and rock walls held fast by the roots of the great trees surrounding the clearing. A sandy embankment encircling the pool.

Amara lazily strolled forwards into the clearing, removing her water skin and setting it down on the roots of a tree near the edge of the hole. Sitting next to her water skin she removed her shoes and foot wraps, placing them next to her. Sliding off the ledge her feet landed in the soft and cool sand providing some measure of relief after the stuffy prison of leather and cloth they'd been released from.

Deftly removing the rest of her clothing and leaving it folded under her water skin, she stepped gingerly across the sand and into the cool water of the pool. She hadn't forgotten the need in her bladder, not that she could if she wanted to with the trickling of the small waterfall at the end of the pool. But she was going to go when she wanted to, not because she needed to. She enjoyed the feeling of delaying that particular gratification.

Wading through the pool she approached the small waterfall. It was only chest high, she could have rested her breasts on top of it and blocked it's flow were she so endowed. She had been with women who were gifted in that area and while they were fun to look at and play with, it seemed like they would prove a hindrance more often than not.

Amara cupped her hands under the waterfall, first drinking, and then bathing in it. The water was cool and refreshing, hardening her nipples and raising henflesh as she washed the sweat from her skin and cooled her body. She ran her hands down her body, brushing away the excess water. Closing her eyes she focused on the feeling of her hands on her skin, conjuring in her mind someone standing behind and reaching around to feel every part of her body.

A woman with her ample breasts and firm nipples pressing into Amara's back, massaging her. Or a man, stiffening into the small of her back, pulling against her stomach to press her into him. Either would do and she let her mind wander back and forth between them has her own hands made their way down her stomach and through her hair before pressing the heel of her hand hard against herself. Irresistibly she tilted her hips into it, her flesh sliding in shear motion building her pleasure.

A twinge.

Snapping out of the moment Amara realized she had indeed forgotten her need. Distracted by her own fantasy. "No matter," she thought, "I can topple two pillars."

Surveying her surroundings she tried to take stock of what options she had before her.  She didn't want to repeat what she'd already done, she wanted something new.

"I could write my name in the sand," she thought before quickly dismissing it, "No, come on, I can think of something better than that. Think. Think."

She stood one arm across her body supporting the other on whose fist she had placed her cheek. Gently twisting back and forth the pressure in her bladder kept increasing. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to just piss as hard as she could.

"Why not," she thought?

That was it, the thought crystallizing in her mind. She would piss as hard as she possibly could. Actually, she would piss as *far* as she possibly could. She had never really tried for distance before. For some reason it had never really occurred to her, pissing on or in or against something had always been enough. But where to do it...

"The waterfall!" She thought, before clambering up the short ledge and standing astride the brook. Squatting down she leaned backward using one hand for support and one hand to aim herself. This proved difficult, her supporting hand was in the brook, whose rocky bottom was stabbing uncomfortably into her palm. Trying to adjust to either side she couldn't find a comfortable position. "Fuck it," she said, exasperated.

Rising back up, she firmly planted her feet to either side of the brook. This time using both hands to aim, she finally cut loose. Immediately a jet of clear piss erupted from her and sailed through the air landing in the sand past the far end of the pool.

A short shout escaped her, "Woo!"

Her need had been great and this was the distance she got from just relaxing and releasing. She quickly began to bear down, greatly increasing the force behind the stream emanating from between her legs. The change was so sudden, the impact point didn't really trace a line through the sand so much as jump a few strides closer to the edge of the clearing.

Thrusting her hips forward she leaned back as far as she could, lifting an arch whose highest point was nearly at eye level. "Yes!" she exclaimed, throwing her head back in relief, "gods, yes!"

Chuckling, she started to sway and buck her hips, watching her stream twirl and dance through the air, mindful not to hit her clothes on the ridge nearby. She wondered what Rand would think of her doing this, wishing he was secretly watching from the woods at that moment, bewitched by her naked form playfully adding her own water back to the brook.

"Should have been born a brook spirit," she said out loud, "or maybe a rain spirit," as she started to adjust her aim more vigorously, breaking her stream up into a spray of large droplets. Continuing her performance as a rain spirit, her mind drifted back to thoughts of being watched by someone.

Not by Rand, necessarily, but someone. The idea excited her; she imagined a woman happening upon her in this moment, marveling at Amara's ability to piss in such a fashion. The woman would ask her "could you teach me?" which Amara would of course oblige. They would practice together, side by side, crossing streams.

"Then we'd fuck," Amara thought to herself.

She was about half done at this point and had eased off the power to make it last longer. As she did so, she lowered her aim until her urine was landing directly into the pool with a loud splashing. The sound of it easily overpowering the brook's lazy gurgle over its small waterfall.

"Brook spirit, indeed," Amara said with a sigh. No longer having a need to aim, she moved her hands to her hips. Content to revel in the feeling of relief, she stood still and silent, save for the splashing as she continued urinating into the pool below. As she felt her bladder empty she thought about the curse again, wishing at this moment that it was real.

"Well," she thought, "I'll know for sure tomorrow."

[hplagoon 0]

Fantastic! Whatever concerns you may have had were unwarranted. Can't wait to read more!

[Lutab 1,011]

Great start. Hope you continue the story and she finds more places to relive herself once the curse takes effect. Maybe she tops up the liquid in a jar of pickles or adds to the beer at the inn. She could also make some special mixed drinks in the back room or she could have fun in one of the rooms there.

[Shitty Wizard 0]

I actually wanted to see her write her name with her urine.

[kepee314 81]

Chapter 2

Amara awoke early on the morning of her birthday. Her cursed birthday. She did not know what to expect, really. Her mother had warned her of the curse and had often made her wait to pee to "strengthen her resolve", but was otherwise very tight-lipped about what, exactly, was to happen.

It seemed as any other morning, yet there was a trepidation within her that she couldn't quite place. She laid there in the dark, her nerves keeping her from returning to her slumber. She could hear the soft pattering of rain against the thatch, a significant departure from the previous day's weather, as if to mirror her vague mood.

She stayed like that until the dim gray light of dawn began to outline the shutter of her window. The rain was falling heavier now as she decided to rise from bed.  Opening the shutter she leaned against the sill, breathing in the cool, damp air. She had to work today, the rain meant the tavern likely wouldn't get busy unless it cleared up. There was no rush to get downstairs, then.

Her window faced the woods behind the inn and the trail she so often took to her and Rand's secret spot. Though she couldn't remember the last time he'd gone there with her, some time when they were still children. They used to go there together all the time to play, or tell each other their secrets. She had told him about her curse, but Rand just thought she was playing some kind of make-believe game and said he was cursed to fart every time a girl smiled at him. Amara thought this amusing and giggled, prompting Rand to fart causing them both to double over in laughter.

She smiled at the memory and stood back up from the window sill. Such memories were always a touch bittersweet. Though they had remained quite close--Amara had been the first person to learn of Rand's engagement--there was no denying that they had drifted apart in some sense. But there wasn't much to do about that now. Rand would be getting married and leaving Thistledown for Whiteport.

Rand had traveled there about a year ago to see a merchant, his would-be father-in-law, to secure a trade deal for imported wine or something for the inn. While there he met that merchant's daughter and the two of them fell in love almost immediately. After one passionate night together she put in a good word with her father and, wouldn't you know it, Rand secured the deal.

"So you got the deal *and* you got to bed a beautiful woman?" Amara had asked upon hearing the tale after his return. "No, no, you got the deal *because* you fucked a beautiful woman."

Rand's cheeks had flushed bright red at that, "I wouldn't describe it that way."

"Well you should! Gods around, Rand, if I could do that, I wouldn't be here! You have to tell me everything. Details. Sallacious ones if you'd be so kind."

Rand chuckled, "much as I'd like to say I could bring a woman such pleasure, the answer is really just that we're in love. We--uh--we got engaged."

"Engaged? But you were barely there a week, this must be some woman."

"She is, Amara, she is incredible."

"Okay, well could you describe her incredible breasts to me?"

Rand laughed and shoved her playfully.

Amara slipped back into the present, still standing in front of her open bedroom window, a distant low rumble of thunder rolling through. "I had better get ready," she thought, turning to head to a small wooden wardrobe at the foot of her bed. Her usual morning routine of taking a short walk into the woods to relieve herself before returning to work would be postponed due to weather. This was fine, her need was significant but not urgent and she was perfectly capable of holding it, perhaps even the rest of the day if she had to.

Placing one hand on the knob to the wardrobe she paused, looking back open at the open portal that was her window. Crossing back over to it, she leaned out to get a good look around. No one. She looked down at the windows to the guest rooms below her. Closed. A small grin spread across her face. With one hand to steady herself against the frame she lifted one foot up onto the sill before lifting herself the rest of the way, adopting a low squat in the window.

Her stomach fluttered as she released her morning piss straight from the attic window to the muddy ground far below. The rain was heavy enough that her golden stream made no noticeable sound as it merged with the mud. From this great height her arch easily cleared the distance to the woods. Twisting her hips she brought her stream to bear on the trunk of a tree, imagining herself a giant, pissing from far above.

She continued twisting her hips marking each tree she could reach until she was spent. She remained in that position for a bit longer, almost daring someone to come see her naked form, crouched in the window like some kind of fleshy gargoyle.

No one came and she climbed back down, chest still buzzing with excitement. "Why have I not done that before," she thought to herself, a new need now quickly growing within her. Irresistably, she let her fingers find their way between her legs, beginning their work as she fell backward onto her bed.

---

The rest of the morning was slow. Patrons from the night before gradually trickled down to the tavern for breakfast before leaving. Those that could afford to wait out the rain did so, leaving in the moments when it briefly let up. By midday the rain had come back in force and the inn was empty except for the day cook, Arney, and Rand's father. After mopping up the last muddy bootprints, Amara headed back to the kitchen to have lunch. The cook was sitting by the open back door having a drink.

Hearing her enter the cook looked back over his shoulder, "aye, Amara, pull up a stool here if ye like, much less stuffy by the door."

Amara pulled a mug out of a cupboard and drew some water from the large cask by the entrance before pulling a stool up to sit next to Arney.

"Aren'cha gonna eat? There's fresh bread on the counter."

Amara shook her head, "not very hungry today."

"Whas that? Is your birthday today, innit, you're not near old enough to be down on your birthday. Ya'd hafta be my age fer that," Arney said, letting out a deep laugh.

Amara smiled, "something just feels off today is all."

"Aye, could be the rain; dismal weather. 'ere maybe this'd cheer ya up some." Arney rose and walked over and picked up something from the counter before returning and handing it to Amara.

It was a small paper sack containing a pastry tart.

"I know ya like them plums what come from downriver-"

"Bearwood plums," Amara interjected softly.

"Aye, Bearwood, tha's tha place. Well I seen a man selling them at the market, so I made ya this."

Amara removed it from the little bag and took a bite. The crust was buttery and flaky, the filling blissfully sweet and floral, these were Bearwood plums to be sure. Amara sighed as she chewed, "mmmf, Arney, why you've not opened your own bakery I will never understand."

"Ah, lass, I've not the mind for money. 'sides, got what I need right here, a kitchen to work and people to feed at the best inn in town!"

Arney sat back down on his own stool and took a drink from his mug. "So what's eatin' ya, ya said somethin's off." he asked as Amara devoured the last of the plum tart.

"I wish I knew, it's just-", Amara was cut off by the kitchen door opening, Rand in a dripping wet travel cloak.

"Amara, happy birthday!" he said, striding towards her. Arney rose and clapped her shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze before silently leaving. Rand removed his cloak and hung it from a hook near the open back door before facing Amara with his arms open. She stood up and they embraced.

"Happy birthday, Mara", a pet name Rand often used with her.

"Thanks, Rand," she replied as he loosened and let go.

"Here, I have something for you," he said, turning to open a large canvas sack Amara hadn't noticed him carry in. Lifting from it an amazingly well-crafted leather travel backpack and handing it to her. The craftsmanship was truly exquisite featuring numerous pockets and buckles and straps.

Amara ran her fingers over the stitching, "oh, Rand, this must have cost a fortune."

"Consider it payment for all of your birthdays I'm going to miss," he said, "Kaine and I have settled the arrangements for the wedding, we're holding the ceremony in Whiteport in a month."

Right, the wedding, it'd be official soon. Amara gripped the backpack, "so you're leaving finally."

"Well not right this moment. I'll be staying here in Thistledown for a few days to do my goodbyes. Kaine is here with me, actually, I wanted to show her where I grew up."

Amara had met Kaine on a few occasions when she'd pass through on merchant business. She was actually a very beautiful woman, someone Amara had fantasized about more than a few times herself. She was kind and had a good sense of humor as well, Amara could see why Rand liked her. Truth be told, Amara liked her as well.

Rand continued, "speaking of which, I'd like to show her our spot. But only if you're okay with it, you can come along with us, too, we'll make a day of it."

A tempest of emotions was blowing through her. That spot had always been their shared secret. Kaine was already taking Rand away, now she'd be taking that, too. But Amara could never look past the joy in Rand's eyes whenever he spoke of her. The happiness she brought. This was important to him, clearly, and he asked her permission even. She could always say no.

Amara spoke, "yeah, that would be fun. As soon as it clears up, we can all go together. Do you still remember the way?"

"Of course, I could get there blindfolded walking backwards," he said with his trademark cockiness.

"Alright, we'll see, explorer Rand."

They embraced again, "thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me. I'm going to get Kaine settled upstairs. See you at dinner?"

"Dinner? That's a long time to be *settling in*, you sure you got the stamina for that?"

Rand just laughed, "never change, Mara."

Amara sat back down as he left, picking up her as yet untouched mug of water. She felt better, Rand always seemed to have that effect. He was leaving but Amara knew he'd always be there for her if she needed him, somehow. She tilted the mug up to her mouth to take a drink.

Barely had the water made it past her throat when an excruciating pressure arose in her bladder causing her to double over, spilling the remainder of the mug's contents. She almost lost it right then and there but somehow managed to hold on, staying perfectly still. Any small movement felt like it would cause her to lose control.