Look, I didn't want to be an omorashist.

My advice is if you're reading this because you think you might be one of us, continue on. There's a whole world out there of this. Agree with what your parents say and try to lead a normal life, at least on the outside.

But otherwise, stop reading right now. Clear your browser history and pretend you never saw this.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Annabeth Chase. I'm 12 years old.

If you're reading this, I assume you know about Demigods, Gods, and Camp Half-Blood, all that jazz. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't bother telling you. Because that is not what this is about. This is about me and my fetish.

It started back when I was still traveling with Luke and Thalia. We were hiding in the woods a lot of the time so we almost never had access to a bathroom. Needless to say, the first time we were in the wilderness, I held until I really truly wet myself. Luke and Thalia were really understanding and we went to one of the safe houses nearby to change. {Will you readers get this experience? Comment if you want it.}

Over time, I discovered that I have a small bladder, but thankfully, Luke and Thalia didn't mind stopping often.

Eventually, just about a month before Grover found us, I discovered that the holding sensation turned me on. (If you're surprised that I knew what the sensation was, please remember, I am a child of Athena. We are always in search of knowledge. Sure, I read medical textbooks and did my own supplementary research, who doesn't?) Something about the pressure on my urethra, the feeling of being on the edge of control, and the trembling of my sphincters, combined with the naughtiness, made my slit moisten and my clitoris throb.

I can only guess if Luke and Thals felt the same way.

So I held it until I was so desperate I couldn't walk, then I called for a stop, whipped down my pants, popped a squat, and unleashed a torrent of pee.

Thalia had this way of peeing without squatting. She would drop her pants and pee against a tree. (Ironic, isn't it?) I was always envious of her because of that.

This summer, while I was talking to Chiron, I heard someone calling for help from the border.

I spun around to see a boy, about my age, with jet black hair and sea green eyes that I could see, even from here. He was dragging an unconscious Grover.

He stumbled over to the porch and collapses. I took one look and him and somehow, I knew. I said to Chiron, "He's the one. He must be," Remember I just saw this kid take down the Minotaur.

"Silence Annabeth." He replied. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside." And with that, the kid helpfully passed out.

I slung my arms beneath his and wrapped him in a sort of bear hug before dragging him into the infirmary.

We laid him down on one of the beds, wrapping him in sheets.

I kind of thought he was cute. But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll hunt you down and kill you.

The next day, I was feeding him some ambrosia and I was having trouble focusing because of the growing ache between my legs. I whimpered and momentarily plunged my hand between my legs, feeling heat radiate from my core. This guy - Percy, Grover had said, - was drooling in his sleep. I shifted around in my seat, sticking my foot beneath my ass. I smirked as I scraped it off his chin and when I looked up again, his eyes were open.

I leaned in and whispered. "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

His intelligent reply: "What?" I looked around to see if Chiron or anyone else was here, but also to make sure no one saw me in my desperate state. Then I whispered again, "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry. I don't…" He mumbled.

Someone knocked and I filled Percy's mouth with ambrosia and he passed out again. The momentary panic released a single droplet of hot piss, sliding along my lower lips, mixing with my arousal juices, and dampening my satin g-string.

Chiron walked in in centaur form.

"How's Percy doing?" He asked.

"Just fine sir. He was awake a few minutes ago." I replied, trying to keep Chiron from catching on and to keep my voice from trembling.

"Ah well. Do let me know when he wakes up again." And with that he left.

I set the bowl down next to Percy's bed and plunged my hand between my legs again. I whimpered as my bladder mutinied against me.

Then suddenly, a spurt. Then a second. Then a third, and I couldn't stop so it turned into a weak dribble. I felt my denim shorts getting wet. A spurt turned into a weak stream and then I completely lost control on my sphincters and I flooded my panties. It sprays out with such force, it passed right through my g-string and my jean shorts. I felt it patter on my hand and pool beneath my ass.

The stream finally tapered off after about a minute and a half.

I reveled in the feeling after a wetting and the feeling of my quivering perineum, and began to grind the heel of my hand into my now soaked (in more ways than one) slit and my erect clit. I moaned from the feelings and reached my other hand up and began tweaking my nipples, increasing the pleasure a tenfold. My hips bucked up to meet my hand and I increased the pressure and the speed. I bit down on my shirt as I came, adding more liquid to what was already on the chair and floor.

I took a minute to compose myself, then I got up and cleaned up the mess, while still in my pissed in shorts. Not gonna lie, the wet denim chafing my thighs was beginning to turn me on.