Adventure in search of a bathroom

When the hatch finally slid open, she practically tumbled out, legs shaky with both sleep and **** need.

The corridor seemed to tilt beneath her unsteady feet as she stumbled forward, having only the vaguest idea of where facilities might be located. The smell of the ship was back, now that she was out of the pod, and something about it seemed to make it harder to think clearly as she sought any sign of a bathroom. Her bladder throbbed painfully with each step, pushing her forward even as exhaustion tried to drag her back to sleep. She vaguely remembered the correct direction on the ship's schematic, and, after two wrong turns, finally found it. An automatic door, covering an alcove, labeled simply W.C. Relief nearly made her lose control.

The door slid open at her approach, revealing a space barely wider than her shoulders. A soft blue scan swept over her body before she entered, and subtle lighting activated to illuminate the tiny space. Kira had no idea which species had designed the space, but it certainly wasn't humans, or at least not ones she knew. There was a regular-seeming sink, but past it, instead of a toilet, the floor sloped gently up to a dark hole in the floor, framed on either side by illuminated blue markers clearly intended to show where feet went. At roughly waist height, a pair of handles protruded from either wall, presumably for balance? If Kira hadn't been an officer of the law and in possession of an uncommon amount of dignity, she might have just decided to use the sink, but with sleep-fogged determination, she resolved to figure this out. Behind her, the door kept trying to close, then sliding open again, as if waiting for her to properly position herself.

Frustration and growing urgency drove her forward. Somehow, she managed to turn around in the narrow space, and wobble her way back into a squat, ducking under the handles. The zipper of the shipsuit she was wearing at least was straightforward - she tugged it down all the way, opening up the suit, then carefully placed her feet in the indicated positions. The stance **** her knees apart as she lowered herself into a deep squat, hands finding the handles almost by necessity to keep her balance on the tilted surface. She tried to adjust herself by taking one of her feet off the footmarker. A chiming sound made her jump, and a moment later, the automated door had hissed open. She realized immediately what a **** position she was in. Thank god he's asleep. She couldn't imagine the humiliation if he had walked by in that moment. When she put her foot back, the door closed again. Well, at least the scare had woken her up a little bit.

It wasn't until she was fully in position, thighs trembling slightly from the awkward pose, that she realized her predicament. She hadn't taken off her panties, and now, in this position, there didn't seem to be an easy way to do it. More importantly, the need to go was becoming catastrophically urgent.

She tried to adjust her position, to reach down and deal with the underwear, but the angle of the floor and and the handles made it nearly impossible without losing her balance entirely. Another chime indicated something about her position was incorrect and the door slid open yet again. There was a second soft hiss from somewhere under her, and when she looked down, she saw a strange, clear apparatus rising out of the hole towards her.

Kat stared at it in horror, understanding now why the stance was so specific. The device would cup both her holes, the clear material meaning everything would be... visible. Her face burned at the thought. Still the options at this point were to let it happen, or piss on the floor. She'd never make it to the sink.

The chime sounded again, more insistent this time. The collection tube adjusted slightly, seeking proper contact, but her panties were thoroughly in the way. She'd have to either somehow work them to the side, or... remove them entirely. Neither option seemed feasible without releasing the handles, and she wasn't sure she could maintain the position without their support.

Her bladder was pulsing with desperation, and, with no other choice, she momentarily let go of the handles, tried to lean back, got her her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and yanked them as far out of the way as they would go. The movement made her wobble, and she had to quickly grab the handles again. The underwear hung uselessly around her thighs, trapped by her spread stance. She couldn't get them past her knees without falling.

A surge of panic went through her as she imagined hearing footsteps echoing in the corridor. False alarm, it was just something clacking in the ship. But the thought was planted now: him finding her like this, struggling with her panties around her thighs, **** into this humiliating squat. The door whooshed open again, and she imagined his tall frame filling it, those alien eyes taking in her predicament...

She was saved from further nightmarish imagining when the collection tube adjusted again, the pushed upwards, and came into light contact against her exposed flesh, making her gasp. The door slid shut at last.

The tube pressed up against her, its transparent surface leaving nothing to the imagination. She could feel the beginning of suction, and her cheeks burned at the entire concept of the process. But there was no holding back.

Her thighs trembled from maintaining the deep squat, but any attempt to adjust made the seal break slightly. She had to keep the exact pose, knees spread wide, gripping the handles to keep from falling forward on the tilted floor. With relief so close, her body seemed to momentarily freeze, unable to let go despite the **** pressure.

"Come on," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes to block out the sight of her own exposure. Finally, with a gasp that was almost a sob, her muscles relaxed and the stream began. The sensation was so intense after holding it for so long that she felt light-headed, clutching the handles tighter as her legs shook.

Through the transparent tube, she could see everything - the golden stream flowing through the clear apparatus, carried away efficiently. She couldn't look away, **** to watch the evidence of her body's functions in humiliating detail. The tube seemed to vibrate subtly as it worked, the sensation adding another layer of discomfort to the already **** position.

When she finally finished, the collection tube maintained its seal. A cleansing spray hit her exposed vulva, and she yelped. The suction was just strong enough that she couldn't comfortably pull away. "Please hurry," she murmured, thighs burning from maintaining the squat. Her sleep-fogged brain was beginning to clear from the ordeal, but that only made her more aware of how exposed and **** she was. The door indicator light blinked, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought it might open.

When the tube finally retracted, her legs were shaking from maintaining the position. She had to ease herself up carefully, still gripping the handles, aware that a wrong move on the tilted floor would send her sprawling. Her panties remained awkwardly bunched around her thighs, and she struggled to pull them back up in the confined space, nearly losing her balance twice.

Her body felt heavy, almost **** as she finally stumbled back to the pod. The door slid open at her approach, and she practically collapsed into the soft, conforming surface. The pod seemed to welcome her, the lights fading. As she closed her eyes, soft white noise began to play, almost too quiet to hear. Something about it made her drowsy almost immediately, but despite the relief she'd gotten, when she finally awoke at 0600 hours, she felt barely more rested than when she'd laid down.