A Paradise called Lavatria: Part 3

[Vassal 1,471]

Now would be as good a time as any to tell you about our humble student apartments. While we may be lucky to be right across from the beach we live in a two-storied building filled with one room apartments, what Americans would call a “studio.” Before you ask, yes, there is a toilet, but you could probably understand it's only used once a day, so you could see why it would be regulated to sit exposed in a corner, not even important enough to have it's own room. Some poor attempts to attract Europeans caused some architects to even install floor urinals in bedrooms, with no attempt at cover. That is something odd, even for my people, but it still draws ample wet attention. Imagine an European, who would have trouble trying to pee on his bedroom floor try to use that! Our public buildings have bathrooms with toilets as well. The shower has it's own corner in the main room, in a sort of door-less closet, with a half wall, that's open to the room, and a window to the back patio space. In older homes there would be a direct drain to the outside street but in these modern times the drain is connected to our humble sewer system. Most houses here have drains set in the floor, depending on the layout there may be multiple in one room and have some channelization or sloping. The primary function of this closet or alcove is probably already apparent. As with the bench and channels, this structure is a hold-over from less modern times. This area would usually have a small shrine, set into the wall at about waist high. I shouldn't have to tell you who's statue rests in this quasi chamber is none other than our patron goddess, Urinaelia. The alcove acted as a convenient place for one to empty the contents of their chamber pot, urn, bowl, bucket, glass or bedpan if one used such a device. The entire night's bladder collection, sometimes filled to the brim, ceremoniously dumped in this corner, the duty usually belonging to the youngest family member. This member would then refresh the statue of our goddess with a fresh, hot libation before returning the pots to their rightful places.

The alcove is a nice place to pee if you're stricken with pee shyness. I said that correctly, some members of our society have trouble peeing as openly as the rest of us and we're not really sure why. They still lack the continental modesty that is ingrained in our people but for some reason can't get a flow going when watched. They would never think of being as antisocial as to pee in the toilet, closed off from their friends and family so these recesses provide a good way for them to pee semi-privately but still out in the open. Every so often you'd find a puddle in a hard to get place or tucked away in a corner. This group was always fun to tease. A girl I was seeing at the beginning of uni had this affliction. I'd often find a fresh puddle tucked away in her closet or watch her sheepishly squat behind the half wall of the shrine-shower and hear a muted hiss and pattering a minute later. I liked to creep up and catch her in the act of urinating, usually causing her to squeal and involuntarily stop her flow. As she squirmed I would take out my penis and casually pee onto the floor next to her, playfully mocking her in her unhelped modesty. Another game I liked to play with her was when we were both awake in bed in the morning. I'd wait until I knew she was at the height of her desperation and just let go, soaking my balls,thighs and the bed beneath me, while she fidgeted next to me, relishing in my relief and the hot puddle creeping below her. Sometimes I liked to do it secretly, releasing it in small bursts until the puddle reached her, or with wide eyes as she spied the growing wet patch of the cover sheet. I always tried my best to get her to wet the bed with me, spooning her, sometimes as I still went, trying to keep her in bed and coax out her morning pee.

This brings me to another question you probably have. If we freely use our furniture as toilets, won't they go bad and rot? Well the answer lies in a potted plant present in almost every Lavatrian home. The plant is only found on our island and seems to have evolved with it's people. The plant is called “latrinaflos,” or a “cup-plant” in English, named for the sturdy, fibrous, deep, cup like flower that grows on the plant roughly two and a half feet from the ground, resembling a pitcher plant flower without the predatory nature. It may be redundant to say, but would you be surprised if I told you this plant thrives on nitrogen rich soil, in other words, urine soaked soil. It thrived so much on our piss that it evolved this faux-flower that when filled with water, feeds the plant directly. You probably can guess where the water comes from. From an early age Lavatrians have been encouraged to pee in the cup flower when it is in bloom. It is a miracle of our island and a driving factor for our self sufficiency, as a result Lavatrians keep one in their houses as a homage. I can joyfully remember, right before I left for uni, when back in my home village, my bedroom's latrinaflos sprouted two cup-flowers at once, a rarity and sign of good luck. I remember calling Nick and Elena to come over to show them. Nick and I happily took out our dicks and placed them into the mouth of the green cups and peed forcefully into the plant's innards while Elena looked on, removing her skirt and clutching her pussy in waiting anticipation. When Nick and I finished peeing, we lifted our cocks from the cups which were filled nearly to the brim. We stepped away from the plant and gave Elena ample room to use the natural toilet. Pouting at the high levels in the cup-flowers, she thrust her hips forward, parted her lips and let out a hot spurt into each cup and finished the remainder of her bladder all over the plant's stem and leaves, drenching the soil and my floor as it dripped downward. We all laughed at the fun and hung around until our bladders filled again. We let Elena use one of the now empty flowers while she held my cock to the other one and as we peed together into the plant, Nick was opposite us watering the soil.

As a result of this short co-evolution, you can probably imagine the uses this plant would have. It can be cultivated like a bush, which we keep ornamental in our homes and gardens. These ornamental shrubs have been selected for it's large cup-flowers, their reproductive purposes greatly diminished. Though it is speculated that while evolved for nourishment, if a man (or woman if she was close enough) were to stick his cock in a cup-flower to pee in it, that pollen could be transferred from plant to plant if he were to pee in another. The latrinaflos can also be cultivated as a tree. While it loses it's prominent namesake, the faux-flowers are much smaller in size and act as real flowers. Instead of it's pitcher like flowers, the tree slakes it's thirst like other plants, through its large root system. Like the smaller shrub, the plant thrives on nitrogen, particularly human urine. As a result of this urophilia, the fibers and wood of the cup plant are valuable as a material. The stems and wood of the cup plant are naturally anti-microbial and like the flower and roots, actively absorb urine to a degree, leaving only a faint pleasant odor. The fibrous leaves could be rendered to make a tough, but soft thread as well. These discoveries sparked an ancient boom in Lavatrian carpentry and textiles. You can walk down any main street and find shops of all kinds selling Lavatrian furniture, specially made to be drenched in hot wee all day. Chairs, benches, tables, desks, dressers, beds, mattresses, you name it and you'd most likely find the latrinaflos wood equivalent. The discovery of the thread combined with our warm Mediterranean climate made the most impact as you could imagine. The mattresses and sheets made from this material would not develop mildew after thirstily soaking up your morning pee and would be dry by mid-day, ready for a lazy afternoon nap's wetting. My mother would even use the corner of the beds in our house if she didn't want to deal with a puddle. I'd often pass by a doorway or walk into my own room and find her naked from the waist down noisily piddling on my bed, with a look of pure bliss on her face. I can remember, as a form of some kind of reciprocation, she would encourage my sister and I to wee on my parents' bed. Laughing as I peed as far as I could all over their bed, soaking as much as I could while my sister straddled the corner like our mother, whose habits she happily inherited, except this time she was facing the bed, leaning back as she sprayed a long, heavy arc across the bed spread. As a practical joke, even now in uni, I would sneak into my sister's room and pull back the bedspread to leave her a wet surprise, I'd then creep back to my own room later to go to bed and find my sister had done the same thing! There's not much more you can do than warm it up on your own.

Even when used as a wood it's extremely hardy and rot resistant. There is a niche market where we export our furniture as outdoor furniture even though it's what you would find indoors in any Lavatrian home. Even with the rise of plastics, our furniture is just as popular as ever. There is a huge industry for our cabinets, desks and dressers. Many an exploring Lavatrian has pulled open a drawer and used it as a toilet. The wood would absorb as much wee as possible before wicking it through the paneling and onto the floor. No rust or rot from a standard metal or wood dresser. Even our wood flooring and walls are made from the latrinaflos tree, providing very easy clean up (or rather no clean up at all after a few hours). Chairs are often made with a wicker from the shrub, allowing absorption and easy flow of pee to the floor from it's source nestled upon it. Some hard bottomed chairs are built with channels in the middle, allowing one to control where your bladder ended up. Some would even have a space cut out right where one's genitals would be seated normally, allowing one's penis to hang freely or pussy exposed to the floor below. These are popular with Lavatrians who don't like to wet themselves, allowing them to relieve themselves directly onto the floor below, without moving from your seat. They also act similar to the ancient slotted benches and allow for someone to be below you if they wanted a draft straight from the source or for filling up a glass without moving.

In my simple student apartment we are furnished with a Lavatrian bed, which I've set up next to the half-walled alcove. There's a standard kitchenette set up stove, small refrigerator, the usual, as well as a small table and two chairs for dining, which doubles as a desk. The sink is a deep affair with a low cut front, just at crotch height for most Lavatrian students. There is also a closet, big enough for student needs, made from the latrina tree. The school also provides a Lavatria University (colloquially abbreviated as “loo”) branded chamber pot and bedpan, both of mine readily available under the bed. Opposite the bathroom there is a tall window complete with channelization out onto the walkway it opens up to. Walking down along the apartment building you would have to watch out for puddles beneath the windows. When I got to my door, a neighbor was perched on the window, cock seated over the sill, streaming a warm cascade on the wall and walkway below. You'd also have to watch out for the drain pipes from the second floor apartments (as well as any fresh streams through the balcony slats).

The room itself is tiled, using a form of marble only found in the Mediterranean. This marble is extremely hydrophobic and liquids just roll off it, leaving very little residue. Combined with the drains this allows for very efficient puddle management. With a growing population our streets would be absolutely flooded. Students can choose to bring their own rugs, and many do. Nothing is more satisfying than watching your wee seep into the carpet fibers, splashing in a delectable sploshing as your bladder drains. While made from the latrinaflora, the wet stains are always rewarding to see after, watching the path of your pee as it leaves your urethra, those first few drops falling directly below you, then snaking out erratically as your flow picks up strength, straightening out as it finally finds it's mark in the large, glistening stain before losing volume and slowly drooping back towards it's source, dripping in a similar pattern to the one it made on the way out. As with the prank with our beds, my sister and I often try to leave messages to each other on the other's bedroom carpet. Usually it'd be a crude drawing of our genitals.

Further beyond my humble kitchen is my potted latrinaflos plant and the sliding glass doors to the back patio and shared space. The patio was made with more marble tile and sat across from a mirrored apartment on the other side. With the glass doors and large window by the alcove we have little privacy if we chose to display it, which most do, doors and windows wide open allowing anyone to see what your neighbor was doing. Whether they liked to wear clothing or not, their sexual habits, and of course how they chose to relieve themselves. Speaking of which, it has been a few hours writing this and I've had several glasses of water. As the evening is warm, I've shed my shirt and am writing at my kitchen table naked upon a latrinaflos cushioned chair. I don't feel like getting up since I am in such a mood to write, I think I'll just go here, and I do, slowly at first. Savoring as my warm stream trickles out, absorbing into the cushion as the puddle grows under my thighs and balls. Eventually I lose control and start peeing harder, the force lifting my cock up slightly, hitting my left thigh directly before shooting out on to the floor in front of me. Reaching down I grab my dick, pulling back my foreskin and aim my bell end directly into the cushion causing the stain to grow even more. My puddle has spread fully around my ass. The warmth is incredible. Wanting to feel it more, I glance around the room and then remember my mother, the bed! Copying my mother and sister I straddled the corner of my bed, pushing my penis down into the mattress. It didn't take much to get me going again as a muffled hissing now filled the room. My warmth and wetness washed over my shaft and balls and felt tremendous as it crept up my bum until I had soaked the entire corner of the bed. Feeling dry fabric getting wet with your own pee is one of life's greatest pleasures. Sadly my bladder became devoid of my wee just as Dany and Christine came in for dinner.

[new2this 128]

Lol, @Vassal, I'm glad you overcame your block.  <3 Excited for your next chapter!

Edited February 21, 2018 by new2this

[BeneathMyWillow 840]

Been hoping for another chapter of this - great work! 

[wetwulf 3,324]

Hot AND creative @Vassal. Well done. I patiently await the next chapter.