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Piddle Pants Pass

By Zrathie

The reality struck Keith when he pulled into the parking lot. He was wearing the garment he was supposed to wear. It was a one-piece, white garment with short legs and short sleeves with a small hemmed tail hole for his tail. A long zipper ran down the back, allowing entry and exit. It was made of a space-age material supposedly stronger than Kevlar yet soft and comfortable to wear as clothing.

It was the special uniform called the Piddle Pants Pass. As the name suggests, it was clothing designed for enforced bladder accidents and a pass to get into the fetish-themed adults-only theme park. With the advantage of waving all fees at the park, it was a tempting option. It was free to order the uniform then you showed up at the entry gate wearing it, but there was a big catch.

The catch was while you were there, you were locked inside until you exited the park. If Keath had to pee, it would be a mess if he didn't leave the park in time. There is no minimum time limit for him to be in the park, so Keith could spend a fair amount of time at the park and walk away before things got too desperate.

Inside the park, another Piddle Pants Pass holder was visiting one last attraction. Barry looked down at the unusual movie theatre seat. It was covered in red fabric and had thick cushions. There was a hole in the back for his tail, and the backrest was quite tall. The seats had U-shaped buffers for both of his legs. He sat down after shuffling towards the centre of the theatre. He sank into its cushions, his legs spreading wide open following the seat's contours. He sat back and relaxed as he felt the seat supporting him.

The lights in the theatre dimmed, and snapping sounds echoed across the space. Barry looked down and saw that his wrists had been gripped by living latex cuffs trapping his arms to the armrests. There was a commotion in the cinema as the other moviegoers cried out in alarm. The wolf looked around and saw a deer a few seats across from him tugging at his armrests, his wrists trapped by the same restraints.

"Welcome, guests; by now, you have found yourself locked into comfort. Leaving the theatre during the screening is not permitted. So please enjoy our feature," came a loud voiceover.

Meanwhile, Keith was in the entrance line to the park. It moved swiftly as a small army of creatures were operating the welcome desks. Eventually, a vixen at one of the welcome desks waved the coyote over. Keith walked over to the fox and stood next to her station.

"Hello and welcome. I see you have a Piddle Pants Pass, but first, I need your name to verify your age," said the vixen.

"I'm Keith Radcliff," said Keith.

The vixen typed away at her terminal and asked Keith for his date of birth. The computer held all the records that allowed the coyote to enter the adults-only theme park. The meat of the conversation came when she asked if Keith had previously validated a Piddle Pants Pass.

"I'll go over some terms and conditions. The Piddle Pants Pass is geared toward watersports and omorashi fetishists. You will be locked inside your Piddle Pants Pass for your visit. The park holds no liability for any items of clothing or electronic devices worn with or under your PPP being damaged while inside the park," said the vixen.

The coyote nodded. Keith was neither of those; he planned to make the most of a single trip and simply leave the park before it came to that.

"Your PPP has been treated with a dye that will stain the outfit purple in the presence of urine, whether it's yours or someone else's. This is intended to humiliate the pass holder for the enjoyment of other guests. If you happen to wet yourself while wearing your PPP, you're still allowed to stay and visit all attractions but note you're not allowed to take it off until exiting the park," said the vixen.

The vixen reached into a bin and took out a wristband. Keith offered his right wrist, and the employee warped the band around it.

"This device allows you to access the available rides, attractions, food and drink. You tap it to a card reader," said the vixen.

The vixen pointed to a card reader on the table. She reached up and took out a padlock. Keith could feel his heart flutter as he turned around and let the fox lock him inside the Piddle Pants Pass. Then, with a simple click, it was over, and the coyote was committed to the experience.

"Please tap your wristband on the card reader to activate it," said the vixen.

With a crisp beep and a green flash from an led, Keith was ready.

"Hey, I ordered a small," said a hyena.

At a drink shop in one of the park's dining areas, The striped hyena named Wendy scowled at the mouse worker behind the counter. An enormous cup, enough to hold a full-sized bottle of coke, stood on the counter. The sides of the container sweated, signalling its contents.

"All PPP holders get upsized to Dam-Buster-Mega-Quench," said the mouse.

The mouse was acting sheepish, but Wendy knew it was one of the many tricks of the park to make them validate their Piddle Pants Passes. The hyena took the oversized drink with a grunt and left the stand without even thanking the server.

A lime-furred fox tapped his wristband on a card reader. He was named Henry and was going on a merry-go-round ride in another part of the park. It was a bondage-themed ride where the horses were outfitted with living latex shackles that secured a rider's lower legs to the flanks of the faux horse and lower arms around the neck; otherwise, it was a regular merry-go-round, or so he thought. Ultimately, Henry straddled the white and gold horse and felt the rubber shackles wrap around his arms and legs.

The fox wore a Piddle Pants Pass and had been at the park for half an hour or so. Then, pipe organ music began to play the ride began to move. Henry and the other riders started to move up and down atop their merry-go-round horses, bound into place.

In an underground control room, a husky controlled the merry-go-round ride. There were several screens showing footage of the ride and its passengers. There where a list of guests on one of the screens. The husky employee noted the riders and decided to spice things up for them. He pressed a button on his controls. Under the merry-go-round, a caged magical artefact began rising on a chain. It stopped when it was several meters higher, enough for the riders above to be within its area of effect.

Within two more laps, Henry felt an unmistakable urge to pee. At first, he tried to deny it, but his body sent a strong desire as if he had been holding it for hours. It made no sense. Henry had only been here for, at most, an hour. He shouldn't need to pee already and with such an intense urgency. Henry tried to claim himself as the fox didn't want to make a scene. He would hold it until the ride ended and try to get back to the entrance in time. It would be challenging, but he would have to try at least.

The riders still needed to learn it, but none would make it off the ride dry. The husky worker had turned off the automatic number of rotations and was watching the riders. He was ready to count them off as they failed one by one.

Henry clamped his legs down on the saddle and pulled at his bound arms. His hand paws were locked just under the faux horse's head, and he could not free them. His bladder felt swollen, and it was only getting worse. He would have to hold it and get out of the park pronto. His vulpine bladder continued to throb, seemingly worsening with each rotation of the ride. The fox was so focused on his battle that he didn't notice that other riders had the same issue.

An otter bound to a horse in front of him groaned. Henry looked up just in time to see piss rushing off the saddle and flowing past their shorts down their legs. The fox turned to look away to his right. Unfortunately, he didn't find respite from the sights of creatures wetting themselves. There a spotted hyena squirmed as she stared at the otter. Henry could see the crotch of her jeans darken as she, too, began to wet herself. Seeing other riders piss themselves only made Henry's struggle much harder.

His paws began to sweat from the strain of holding his overfilled bladder. He wanted to bring his hand paws down and clamp over his sheath. Anything to stem the desperate feeling. The ride wasn't slowing down or stopping. The ride had taken less time as he watched from the queue. Henry bit his lower lip before letting out a gasp. Henry clamped down for a moment as a powerful desperation wave overcame him.

Keith was well inside the theme park by now. He was making a loop of the attractions. There were many rides with a few erotically themed; there was a merry-go-round with passengers strapped to the horses with living rubber restraints. There was a Manokit aquatic show, rollercoasters and log flumes. A swinging pirate ship and more tame attractions like a cinema.

The crowds of guests mostly looked like tourists in most places, with a few creatures dressed up in fetish gear like latex catsuits, pup play hoods, harnesses and collars. A few critters were wearing a Piddle Pants Pass. Worryingly some had bright purple stains around their crotches. Most didn't seem to care, while others looked to be quickly walking towards the park's exit.

Keith decided to take the park's cable car for his first ride. He spotted the station and joined the queue.

Wendy sipped her massive coke as she walked past a long queue to the restrooms. She was only a third way through the drink. Near the head of the toilet queue, the floor was covered by metal grates. This was the male line, and the creatures standing there looked desperate to piss. Knees trembled, hand paws clutched at crotches and others openly potty danced in the queue. Behind a low crowd barrier that separated the serpentine line from the footpath, Wendy stood next to a ram with brown wool and tan horns. The hyena took a long suck from her straw and regarded the other creature. He was shifting his weight from one hoof to another. His short brown and white facial fur was damp with perspiration.

It seemed to Wendy that not only holders of a Piddle Pants Pass had the potential for public humiliation. It was unlucky for the ram because Wendy loved what she saw. He looked the most desperate out of them and had made the jinxed choice to wear tan shorts today. She finally withdrew her lips from the straw and gulped down the mouthful of sweetness. Then, she offered the straw to the ram.

"Want a sip, baa boy?" asked Wendy.

The ram twisted his head away and looked left and right for several moments as if trying to find someone to save him or hoping Wendy wasn't talking to him. Eventually, the ram shook his head in a firm no. Sweat went flying from his face as he did so.

Wendy rocked the cup, making sure the sound of coke sloshing over the ice cubes made it to the ram's ears.

"Come on, you look so warm there," said Wendy.

Wendy felt a sudden rush of heat flow over her as the ram bowed his head and took a swig from Wendy's drink. It was an act of submission, and the hyena knew it. The ram looked at her with pleading eyes once he had swallowed his sip. Wendy took a step back, keeping her eyes locked on her target.

The ram crossed his arms and stiffened his posture. A look of sheer terror overcame his muzzle. Wendy soon saw why. A sizeable wet patch appeared on the ram's shorts. The stain flowed down his legs until drips of warm ram piss dropped from the fabric. The ram's expression softened to base delight now that he didn't have to keep up the facade of civilised behaviour. Pee had formed rivers running down his legs and over his hooves into the drain under him.

The ram moaned in an almost orgasmic delight as his crotch positively hissed. He pissed his pants in front of everyone. This made the others in the line cross their legs tighter or even grip at their crotches. The sound must have been too much for a cheetah at the head of the line. The feline also began to flood his pants. A dog waiting behind the cheetah brushed past him as one of the toilets became available.

A few moments later, the ram and cheetah shuffled out of the queue and slinked away. Wendy took a seat on a nearby retaining wall to a planter. She watched the line slowly move; some creatures pissed themselves, which often caused others to fail to hold before reaching the restrooms. Wendy sipped on her drink. She felt the need to pee herself. Not as urgently as some of the males across the way, though. Regardless, she would put her plan into action to avoid such humiliation.

At the same time, another Piddle Pants Pass was being validated. Henry was trying his best to hold it. His paws dripped with sweat as he had wave after wave of desperation from his bladder. He was at the point he doubted he could make the walk off the ride before springing a leak. The diabolical nature of the horse's motion, how his legs were spread wide by the saddle and seeing the other guest piss themselves all made his effort futile. A loud hiss was the first clue that he had lost the struggle.

Henry didn't have to look down to know what was happening. He instantly made himself small and tried to keep any attention off what he was doing. But unfortunately, the crowd didn't let him. A few creatures shouted about the lime fox wetting himself, and it felt like all eyes were on him. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on the relief of emptying his bladder.

He could feel the torrent of piss soaking his crotch and flowing over the saddle. He moaned and rested his muzzle against the horse. Unfortunately, he wasn't the last to go; a lion and zebra on the ride had yet to give in. In the end, the lion began flooding his pants on the next lap. In a cruel move, the hidden operator stopped the ride and allowed the last dry passenger off first. The poor zebra lady shuffled and squirmed her way past the still-bound riders before pissing her denim overalls on the exit steps leading down from the ride.

Elsewhere, a cable car ascended into the air. The coyote had a view of the whole park and the surrounding area from up here. Keith felt a sudden, compelling need to pee as he took in the vista. It had come out of nowhere. It was growing unusually rapidly. Whatever it was, it was powerful. His bladder urges were multiplying.

At first, he felt around the back of his neck to see if he could get the padlock off. He was trapped. The lock needed bolt cutters to come off unless he had the key. He next tried to open the outfit with the lock in place. Keith tried to squeeze his shoulders through the neck hole. Keith crossed his legs tightly and used a hand paw to squeeze his penis. He was already at the point where he would surely wet himself otherwise.

Back in the cinema, Barry was halfway through the movie. Holding his piss all day long was finally catching up with him. His bladder began to throb in ways he just couldn't ignore. Unbeknownst to the wolf, the buck he had seen earlier was in a much worse state. His brow was damp with sweat as he regretted his decision to catch a bit of a movie while the toilet queues grew shorter.

The wolf had dodged drinking anything while at the park. He was determined to avoid the wet fates that most Piddle Pants Pass holders met. Barry calmed himself and watched the film. He was trapped here whether he liked it or not, and he would just have to go along with the show.

Above the park, in a gondolier, Keith was near frantic. His legs were crossing and recrossing in a vain attempt to hold back the floodgates. He would have stood a chance if he wasn't on a ride, but the coyote was sure he wouldn't even make it halfway back to his car in his current state. He had been naive to think the Piddle Pants Pass would be a free lunch. He felt a short pulse of piss leave his urethra. The wet urine dripped out of his sheath and was soon followed by a more significant leak.

The ride operator torturing Keith de-energised the magical bladder-filling touchstone that had been welded inside one of the railings. Back on the ride, Keith looked down to check the damage and saw a wet dot form near his cock tip. The material first darkened, then became bright purple. Staring at the evidence of his leak prompted a thick gush of pee to shoot into the crotch of his piddle pants. Then, as he saw the shameful evidence of his accident grow, he let go of the rest of his bladder.

The outfit darkened as the thick coyote piss defiled them. Keith couldn't help but stare as the piss stain worked downwards before coming out of the legs. The purple dye appeared after, even as he was still pissing. Keith kept his paws away from his mess as the piss leaked into a puddle under his seat. He could feel the warmth spread over his backside as the piss flowed across the seat.

Wendy was now looking for a secluded spot to take advantage of her plan. She soon found a semi-wooded area that was hedged off from the more busy park areas. Wendy thought this would work nicely. She walked down a path that ended in a cul-de-sac with a bench. Next to the trail were some tall bushes enough to hide behind. She hid behind the bushes and placed down the now half-empty cup. She touched her right thigh, feeling it with her paw pads.

Soon she sensed the tube hidden under the uniform. It was still tapped in place. She quickly found its tip and pushed it lower until the end came out from the leg hole of the Piddle Pants Pass. The hyena aimed the pipe away from herself and let loose. She could hear her piss flowing down the tube and see it streaming out into the garden. She had beat the system!

In a control room, a young sabre called over one of his colleagues. The meerkat looked at the screen.

"What's she doing?" said the sabre.

On the monitor was a CCTV vision of Wendy. She was still pissing, and a puddle had formed in the dirt near her. Her outfit remained pristine. No purple stains were evident.

"She's using a she-wee," said the meerkat.

Her colleague raised his eyebrows.

"A she-wee is the travel and camping gadget. It allows female creatures to pee standing up without removing any of their clothing. Essentially, it's a funnel fashioned to cup around our guest's vagina connected to a section of pipe," said the meerkat.

"Kate, how do you know about this stuff?" asked the sabre.

"Working here and as a forest firefighter. It came in handy," said Kate.

By now, Wendy had finished. The last of her piss drained from the tube. She gave herself a shake, much like a male at a urinal. Then, she tucked the end of the pipe back under the uniform. The hyena looked around, retrieved her drink cup, and stepped onto the path.

The line avoiding buck was just about to have his humiliation. The creature tried frantically to cross his nimble legs. However, it was useless as the toilet training braking design effectively kept the buck in a bladder stress position. Helpless to even reach his fly and free his cock from his clothes, the deer felt this was it. Hot warmth spread into his underwear then, as it became saturated, it spread out into his pants. The creature's cheeks were just as hot as the piss flooding his crotch.

The poor buck needn't have worried; the closest creature to him had its own problems. Barry was panting as his bladder throbbed. He was finding it harder and harder to focus on the movie. Seeing this film was a mistake. He had forgotten all about it as his attention was all on keeping dry.

The hyena looked for a new attraction. Wendy settled on a manokit show. A show was just starting, and she walked into the top of an amphitheatre. Several rows of seats surrounded a large tiled area and a round pool. A black horse with a white diamond-shaped marking on his forehead was the master of ceremonies. He was also wearing a black and grey wetsuit. He stood on the tiled area in front of the pool. It was fenced off with glass and metal railings. It was enough so those in the lower seats could still see the action.

Wendy soon found a seat and watched as more creatures walked in. It only took a minute or two before the show began. The MC talked about manokits, and suddenly, a manokit lady leapt out of the water behind him. She was wearing a sparkling metallic silver one-piece swimsuit. The crowd cheered as it landed with a splash in the pool. It seemed the crowd's reaction was exciting to the horse because an awkward-looking lump had formed at his crotch. It was evident to the creatures watching even in the back because a jumbotron was telecasting the show live.

The MC was breathing hard into his portable mic as the show continued. He explained some facts about manokits, and two manokits soon swam into the pool behind him. Soon, they both jumped out of the water and did two flips. The manokits were doing tricks tossing an inflatable beach ball between them and doing flips in the air, diving in and out of the water. Finally, the horse wheeled around and pointed at the water.

"This is Misha," said the horse.

Misha splashed out of the water and slid across the tiles striking a pose; she was the first manokit from before. The crowd cheered at the display. Wendy joined in with the ruckus.

The horse gave a mic to Misha.

"How is everyone doing?" said Misha.

There were a few cheers from the crowd.

"It's good to hear some noise because Gregory likes it when you make a bit of noise,"

As the camera focused back on the stallion, the wetsuit didn't hide the fact he was semi-erect, the tight lump clearly visible.

"T-this is Oscar," said the horse.

The stallion opened and closed his legs as Oscar jumped out of the water to greet the crowd. He was a male manokit wearing a silvery speedo.

Gregory handed him a mic.

"As you may have noticed, our stallion has a situation going on in his pants," said Oscar.

Wendy couldn't help but stare at the jumbotron as it returned to the stallion. The stallion's cock was fully erect inside his wetsuit. But, on closer inspection, it wasn't a conventional wetsuit because the horse's genitals looked like they had been dipped in oil. On the massive screen, the stallion's equine cock and balls were on full display. The rubbery glossy crotch panel had shrink-wrapped the stallion's junk and was seemingly pulsating and teasing it.

"If you want to help Gregory out, make a lot of noise," said Misha.

Gregory retrieved the mics from both manokits before the vision on the jumbotron changed. It to that of a ring that had come down over the pool. Suddenly Misha jumped through the hoop. The crowd roared and clipped at the display. The stallions amplified pants were barely heard over the excitement. Eventually, the noise subsided, and the stallion explained the next trick. His voice was breathless, and his legs opened and closed as he tried to displace the heat between his thighs. It must have been a struggle not to grasp himself, even with everyone watching him.

At this point, Wendy was quite excited. She reached down to squeeze one of her nipples and discreetly ran a hand paw over her crotch. The she-wee blocked any sensation acting as an impromptu chastity device. She grew more aroused at the thought of her tricks blocking even the quickest of touches. Defeated, she sipped the last of her drink.

Kate and the young sabre watched Wendy's actions. There was nothing hidden from the pair.

"She seems to fancy Gregory; w-we could use this," said the sabre.

Kate adjusted her glasses, and her muzzle pulled into a smile.

"I'll get our stallion on the horn and arrange a backstage pass. You get full credit for this, Ben," said the meerkat.

Back at the show, the screen turned back to the ring, and suddenly, fire propagated around the hoop until all of it was aflame. A drumroll played over the speakers until a sudden flash of colour zoomed through the ring. Oscar splashed back into the water, and the crowd roared much louder than before. Wendy jumped up from her seat, as did many others. The urge to follow was irritable to the other creatures, and the crowd soon joined in on the cheering.

The stallion's moans were soon heard over the speakers as the jumbotron focused back on him. The hidden camera had zoomed in on the stallion's crotch, ready to give the crowd the equine climax of the show. But instead, the rubber-encased flared tip of the stallion's cock bulged violently upwards but didn't rupture. Instead, the material surged with each pulse of stallion cream. The horse panted and gasped as he creamed himself. Ultimately, the living rubber of his wetsuit released its tight grip, and his cock became a less defined oblong-shaped bulge than the shrink-wrapped spectacle it had been.

With rubbery snap sounds, Barry's cuffs released his wrists. The wolf stood up on his foot paws, and the relief was swift. He crossed his legs and bore down on his bossy bladder. Now that he was out of the bladder stress position, he had time to get to the exit. He swiftly exited the theatre, ignoring the two other guests who had flooded their pants. Once outside, he carefully walked down the path.

Another creature was making its way towards the exit. Wendy was exiting the amphitheatre when there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see a tall, dark stallion standing behind her. It was Gregory from the show. He smiled down at her and offered his hand.

"Hey, Wendy, you've been randomly selected for a backstage tour," he said.

The hyena smiled and took the stallion's hand. While Wendy needed the restroom again, she would have time to meet this hunky horse. Gregory walked her back towards the Manokit show stage and to a staff-only door built into a wall to the side of the performance area.

The wolf Barry was doing a walk of his own. He was busting to pee and wasn't embarrassed about clutching down on his sheath. He stopped at one point to check for damage. Luckily there wasn't a purple stain yet. It only took a few more minutes to reach the exit to the park. He tried to act casual, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all, the dingo staff member who held the keys to the lock on his uniform.

The dingo's radio beeped, and this was a bit of luck for Barry as it was a code telling the dingo to let him go without "losing" the keys or stalling for more time to force the wolf's issue. The employee held up a set of keys and went for the actual key instead of going through several dummy ones. Barry turned around and crossed his legs, panting as the dingo unlocked the padlock and pulled it free from the eyelets and zipper pull tab.

"Thank you; I hoped you enjoyed your stay," said the dingo.

Barry nodded but was too distracted by his throbbing bladder to reply. So instead, he made his way out of the exit gate. The wolf saw some trees and bushes off to the side. They were between the perimeter wall and the car park and offered the closest private area. So he dashed towards them. It was secluded enough, so he zipped open his Piddle Pants Pass and rolled it down over his belly fur until he moved it past his crotch.

He began pissing a high-pressure stream that fell in an arc against the wall. A grunt came next to him as a black panther peed on the wall. His sheath poked through his fly. They didn't make eye contact, but both creatures must have just made it. Barry's piss stream lasted for a minute or so. Finally, he gave his lupine sheath a shake, pulled up the uniform, and made himself decent. The wolf returned to the lockers where he had stored his car keys. It was a much more dignified walk than the last few minutes.