An Unforeseen Calamity

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Olivia is forced to run 6 miles or lick up her own piss
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My first story. Didn't really go as planned but to hell with it. If I ever write continuing parts they will most likely not be completely centered around pee.


Olivia was 18 years old and had recently dropped out of college after finding success streaming on Twitch. Her breasts were only a-cups which let her break free of the titty streamer stereotype. It helped her reassure herself that she wasn’t just some slut appeasing a horde of horny 12 year olds on the internet.

One day, Olivia woke up laying face down on a cold hard floor. She found her glasses beside her and got up while putting them on. Upon surveillance of the room she was in, Olivia found that the walls, ceiling and floor were all gray, and the only thing inside it was a treadmill and a note. Other than that, there was just the t-shirt, skinny jeans and glasses she was wearing.

The note read, “Travel 6 miles on the treadmill at at least 4.5 mph. If the treadmill stops or goes below 4.5 mph at any moment before 6 miles, then you have to restart. Only after you complete your task, you will be given food and water.”

Olivia nervously laughed and called out, “Ok Ryan, you can stop now. This pranks not very funny.”

After waiting a couple of minutes, Olivia realized that this might not be a prank at all and began to wonder if maybe a deranged fan had kidnapped her. She decided that if this were the case, the kidnapper probably wasn’t too competent, so she should sit down and wait it out. After what she presumed was a few hours, she got the urge to pee. After arguing with herself for a few minutes, Olivia peed in the opposite corner, then sat back down.

Just a moment after sitting down, Olivia realized just how dry her mouth was. She bit her lip and stared longingly at the puddle across the room. Olivia slapped her own face to get out of the trance.

“No, that’s fucking ridiculous.” She told herself.

Olivia looked back at the note and started to consider doing the task. She hadn’t run or even walked a mile since sophomore year of high school, much less ten while being both hungry and thirsty.

Olivia took another glance at her piss puddle and decided that there was no way running ten miles could be any worse than licking your own piss off the floor. Olivia got on the treadmill and set it to speed 4.5. In only half a mile she was already completely out of breath and both her mouth and throat felt dryer than a desert. By one mile her legs were screaming in pain and her breath was weezing. The fact that if she failed, she’d have to do a full restart hit Olivia hard and helped her persevere.

By the 2 mile mark Olivia was doing better. Her whole body was still in excruciating pain but her mind felt more at ease and she was feeling confident. Then, at the 2.5 mile mark, Olivia felt another urge to pee. She tried to think about other things; her friends, video games, movies, but her mind always circulated back to her dry throat, or her screaming legs, or her urge to pee.

Before she knew it, she was at the 5 mile mark, but she was no longer feeling confident. Along with her legs and throat, Olivia’s bladder was screaming for relief. Olivia felt an instant rush of confidence when she reached the 5.5 mile mark.

“Just a couple more minutes.” She told herself.

As Olivia reached each of the next decimal marks, her hope and happiness grew immensely. All the confidence, all the happiness, all the hope, faded instantly when she reached the 5.9 mile mark. The moment she reached 5.9 miles, the treadmill speed began to go up rapidly.

Olivia was able to keep up for even a second. She flew backwards and hit her head on a wall, just before landing in the puddle of her piss. A moment after impact, Olivia pissed herself, which further soiled her already piss covered clothing.

For a minute or two, Olivia laid there unmoving. When she finally got up she looked at the treadmill and saw that the miles had reverted back to 0. Olivia viciously sobbed as she sucked and licked up her own piss from the floor.

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