Dwight's Dystopian Pee Dream (Preview) (Patreon)

Dwight wished he could remember what had led up to this. Even if these new regulations he was supposed to follow had apparently never been put up to a vote, he thought he should have been able to recall some kind of announcement about them.

But, he couldn’t.

He also couldn’t remember when The Leader had stepped down from his position, something he was certain should have been big news. Nor could he remember how in the world Karl, of all people, had taken his place.

Dwight did know that all of these things were true, he just lacked a memory of why. But, maybe he had a good reason to be suffering from a bout of amnesia— He was in so much pain that he could barely think.

“Smith,” a stiff, higher-ranking guard said as he glowered down at Dwight, staring straight at the feet Dwight was trying not to bounce. “I’m giving you one last warning, you are in violation of almost every public decency regulation.”

Dwight balled his hands into fists, clenching and un-clenching them at his sides. He managed to make his feet go still, and very nearly even got himself to uncurl from his hunched over posture. But, not quite, and before he knew it, one leg was inching atop the other. “S—Sir,” he pleaded, his expression filled with urgency. “I need—“

“You NEED to familiarize yourself with the law again,” the other guard cut him off. “Your Urination License was revoked.” He displayed the card he’d ripped from Dwight’s hand a moment ago.

“But, but, it’s not supposed to—“

“REVOKED,” the guard repeated. “Meaning GONE, FORBIDDEN. You’re not permitted to access ANY facilities in this country since your track-record of obeying the law has been so abysmal.”

Dwight’s whole body shook and his eyes began to burn painfully.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re an adult, don’t you dare cry— And stop crossing your god damned legs! Hey, you know what? You can just come with me.”

***

Dwight had little memory of the walk to the jailhouse. He knew it must have been very painful, going such a long distance with such a full bladder. It must have been so awful that he’d blocked it all out. Just, one second, that guard was shouting at him and, the next, he was being shoved through the door of the jailhouse.

Perhaps the main reason he blotted it out was because he was almost HAPPY when he got through the doorway. Kenneth was there, sitting behind a desk… But, gnawing the absolute FUCK out of his hands. He was desperate— Of course he was desperate, the regulations had been absolute Hell for him— but since most people didn’t realize that for Kenneth, hand-chewing was a SIGN of desperation, no matter how much he did it he never got in trouble for violating the rules.

“Sir,” Kenneth said to the unknown, superior guard. “What is happening now?” He bit down on his lip. Dwight could tell he wanted to say something different, wanted to demand the guard let Dwight go— In more ways than one.

“Paulson,” the other guard said. “Smith here was caught engaging in multiple violations of the law— Public displays of desperation being a big one.”

Dwight fought not to start stomping his feet and committing ANOTHER violation of that rule. He had to grind his teeth together to keep from vocalizing his need. That had been the toughest habit of his to break; Voicing aloud that he needed to pee had always been so helpful, but now it wasn’t permitted. He instead just kept screaming it inside his mind. ‘Gotta peeee! Need to peeeeeeee! Please, please, please, I wanna pee! Now!’

It didn’t help.

Kenneth wrote something down, his teeth sinking even more firmly into one of his knuckles. His eyes were big and watery as he looked at Dwight. Dwight wished he could go to him, wished he could hold him, cuddle him, the way they used to do before the regulations had barred them from having any contact with one another.