Mishaps in Majorca by Imouto Kitten Commissioned by Anonymous The sun was shining in a cloudless sky and the salty, Mediterranean air was crisp as three lovely ladies stepped out of the villa they had rented for their vacation on to the patio overlooking the beach they had chosen for their reprieve from the frequently dreary weather of their home back in England. From the strong resemblance the three women share, age the biggest difference between them, it would be clear to any passersby that the trio is a family of three, a mother along with her daughter and teenaged granddaughter. The eldest of the three, June, despite being just a few years shy of sixty, still had an aura of vitality about her, a moderately attractive figure apparent even with the very conservative cut of her one-piece swimsuit, the silver highlights in her dark hair the only indication that she's the grandmother of the group rather than being the aunt. In the middle, an inch or two taller than June and with aslightly bigger bust, stood Karen. Mid-thirties and sporting a modest, black bikini that accentuates her curves well, she looked like a woman in her prime, mature enough to intimidate boys looking to hit on naive girls, but still youthful enough to make men's heads turn, and if she wasn't flanked by her mother and daughter, one could believe she was here looking to snag a husband. Last, and in her own opinion, least, was Lisa. Old enough to not be considered jailbait, but not yet old enough to drive, she was nearly a head shorter than her mother, a cup size smaller than her nan and held herself with none of the self-confidence of the two older women. Despite this, she was still quite attractive, and in the purple three-piece she was wearing, the bows of slender, silken string resting between her breasts, between her shoulder blades, and atop her hips looking like they'd come untied at the slightest tug, she'd be a magnet for all but the most big boob obsessed of boys her own age. But Lisa wasn't thinking about teenage boys tripping over themselves in their attempts to garner her attention, or even of the bright sun and crisp sea air of the invigorating, mediterranean weather. Instead, her thoughts were drifting back to the last time her family vacationed in Majorca. ###Six Years Earlier ### Ten-year-old Lisa, her arms, legs, and tummy chubby with leftover baby fat, and her skin speckled with sand, sat in the sand, a frilly, pink bikini covering her cute, little butt and her mosquito-bite breasts as she built a sand castle. Her pig tails swaying in the breeze and humming her favorite tune, the little girl was paying no attention to the growing pressure in her lower abdomen as she constructed what was to be, in the preteen's mind, the grand palace of her private kingdom. In fact, the last several times her mum and nan had asked her if she needed to go potty, she had dismissed them by insisting things like, "I'm fine." and "I'm a big girl." So engrossed in her amateur architecture project, Lisa has no idea just how dangerously full her bladder is as she stands up and drags her shovel through the sand to dig a moat for her castle, and is completely ignorant of the rather unpleasant way her run towards the water with her empty bucket jostles her tremendously taut tinkle tank. Despite having completely tuned out her poised to pop piddle pot, Lisa manages to fill her bucket from the ocean without issue, and it isn't until she squats next to her masterpiece, preparing to fill the moat with the gathered sea water that it happens. Without so much as a warning spurt, Lisa's bursting bladder, tired of being ignored by its owner chooses that moment to brute force its way past her floodgates, shattering the dam completely as a torrent of tinkle gushes from her girlhood to fill her sandcastle's moat, long pent-up piddle pouring forth as if the pink bikini wasn't in the way. The young girl freezes, her entire body engulfed in a blush to match her swimwear as she essentially pees her panties in public for the first time since kindergarten, the fact that she's putting out enough to fill her moat and over run its banks only adding to her humiliation. When she's finally empty, Lisa, still holding her bucket of sea water, looks up to find both her mum and nan looking down at her with disappointed expressions. "Looks like our little girl just peed herself like a baby," comments Karen. "And judging by her yellow moat, she lied to us when we asked her if she needed to go." adds June. Humiliation turning to fear, Lisa drops her bucket, destroying half her sand castle with flood damage as she tries to make a run for it only for the pair of grown women to each grab a wrist and start dragging her kicking and screaming back to their villa for her punishment. ###Present Day### Lisa is snapped out of her memories of one of the worse days of her life by her mum calling out, "Hey, are you going to join us, or just stand there." As she runs out into the sand to join her mum and nan, Lisa assures herself that she won't repeat that terrible day from six years ago. As the sun rises high into the sky, the family of three take advantage of the many attractions the beach has to offer, from swimming in the crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean sea to flirting with the various single guys on the beach to enjoying the selection of fine Spanish Wines and coktails on offer at a cabana bar. June and Karen more than once have to scare off a young man who looks ready to get a bit too touchy-feely with Lisa, causing the lightest dusting of pink to cross the teenager's cheeks each time, but the two older ladies don't hesitate to sneak the youngest of their party a bit of the alcohol she's too young to purchase herself. As lunchtime rolls around, the trio find a spot to layout the picnic lunch they packed, emptying the cooler of soda they were carrying and adding several glasses of wine and several cocktails to what they drank through the morning. After finishing their picnic and packing away their refuse, the two older ladies decide to do some sunbathing while Lisa decides to join a nearby game of volleyball. "Stay within sight of us." declares June to her granddaughter. "But have fun." adds Karen as she and her mother stretch out next to each other on lounge chairs, both ladies relaxing without a thought to the liquid working its way through their systems, and before long, both mother and grandmother have fallen asleep. Meanwhile, Lisa is enjoying the volleyball game and the glances she's getting from the boys her own age and even a few young men she's pretty sure are in their early 20s. As the teenage girl drinks up the attention, she doesn't notice as her own waste waters start to pool in her lower abdomen, her accident from years ago nothing but a distant memory as fantasies of finding someone tall, dark, and handsome with whom she could enjoy a summer romance prove as distracting to the teenager as fantasies of being a princess in a fairytale castle had been to her ten-year-old self. By the time Lisa's bladder manages to catch her attention, the Sun has dipped noticeably from its noon position, and she nearly bends double as a wave of desperation crashes over her. When Brad, the boy who had been chatting her up for a while now asks, "Are you okay, Senorita?" Brad was muscular, well-tanned, and spoke with just the slightest Spanish accent to his English that Lisa couldn't tell if he was a local who spoke good English or a tourist good at faking the accent, but she didn't really care. He was physically attractive to the point Lisa was sure the dampness in her bikini bottoms was from more than just her last dip in the water, was just old enough to buy her drinks from the cabana, and best her tipsy mind could tell, he had been a perfect gentleman. So naturally, instead of confessing her need and risk ending their conversation and never seeing him again as some other girl catches his eye and recalling that there aren't any public restrooms nearby anyways, the teenager schools her features, places the hand not holding her current cocktail on her lower abdomen in hopes of hiding the bladder bulge starting to form right above her waistband and insists, "I'm fine." Around the same time, June and Karen wake from there naps, their tinkle tanks throbbing terribly like that of the teenager of their trio. As the sun will soon start setting, and knowing their villa is their best, possibly only, option for a proper toilet and neither being willing to go in the water, they silently agree that it would be best to simply head back to the villa for the evening. As they stand up, the action squeezing both of their bursting bladders to much discomfort and both ladies having to grab the crotch of their respective swimsuits to prevent a leak, they realize with horrror just how far they've drifted from their villa during the course of the day. To make matters worse, Lisa has wandered off further than either is really comfortable with. Once they've regained their composure, the pair pack up their stuff before scanning the horizon for Lisa, spotting a speck of purple sitting at a cabana just barely within sight, though unfortunately in the opposite direction from their villa. Hoping they've indeed spotted the wayward member of their party, can hold it long enough to make the round trip to the cabana and then back to their villa without wetting their swimsuits, and that, if any of the men on the beach notice their bladder bulges, none will be crass enough to comment, the pair start making their way across the sand. Back at the cabana, Lisa accepts another cocktail from Brad, consuming more liquid despite what's left of her better judgment screaming at her not to, thinking it would be rude to refuse the offer. Just as the teenaged girl is contemplating suggesting she and Brad go for a swim, thinking she could simply go in the water, letting her relieve the powerful pounding in her piddle pot without excusing herself or risking embarrassment, her mum and nan walk up, the two older ladies wearing matching smiles of relief both at finding their progeny and that they didn't waste precious minutes before the dam breaks walking in the opposite direction of relief. "Come, Lisa, its time to head back to the villa." says Karen once she's close enough to confirm her daughter's identity. "Oh my, Lisa didn't tell me she had two such lovely sisters." Comments Brad, seeing the two older ladies and noticing the clear family resemblance. "I'm flattered, young man, but I'm her mother." replies Karen with just the slightest bit of flirtation in her voice. "Sadly, flattery won't get you very far, boy." adds June, coldly. "I know I'm quite attractive for my age, but only an idiot would believe someone could mistake my granddaughter and me for sisters. Women's intuition says its more advice than you deserve, but mistaking my daughter and granddaughter for sisters and me as both their mothers would have been a far more believeable lie. Come along, Lisa." Her cheeks pink from the alcohol and her mum and nan getting between her and another boy, Lisa quietly follows the older ladies as they head for their villa. Although it couldn't possibly be more than a few hundred meters, the walk back to their villa feels like several kilometers as the trio's tinkle tanks threaten to explosively expel their waste waters, none of them able to enjoy the view as the setting sun turns the sky and surf a dazzling array of reds and oranges due to their piddle plight. More than once, Lisa is tempted to run out into the water or even just let go in her purple bikini bottoms, but everytime such thoughts cross her mind, she's reminded of the punishment her mum and nan administered the last time she had an accident at the beach, adding a tremor of terror to her tinkle tormented trembling. While the older ladies do a better job of concealing their desperation, they are in just as bad a shape as their younger companion, more than once glancing towards the water and thinking of relieving themselves in the water, only for their pride to make them discard the idea. After what feels like an eternity of tinkle torture, the trio reach their villa, all three unceremoniously dropping their stuff to the hardwood as they enter their vacation home. Lisa is about to make a mad dash to her room and its en suite when she hears a pair of nearly identical gasps. Turning to the sound, the teenager is shocked to see both her mother and grandmother bent double with their hands jammed between their thighs. Though their black swim suits hide it well, the yellow tinted spurts gushing between the older ladies' fingers and the matching rivulets running down their thighs make it clear to Lisa that both June and Karen have sprung leaks and rather prominent ones. Lisa isn't sure if she stares transfixed by her mum and nan for seconds or hours, but the spell is broken as her own bursting bladder gives another hard spasm. Not waiting to see if the older ladies regain control or not, the teenager dashes for her room, throwing open the door to both the room itself and then the en suite, not even thinking of closing either behind her as her salvation comes in sight. Lifting the lid of the toilet, Lisa doesn't even bother trying to pull down the bottom of her swimsuit, sitting down just in time for the dam to break, plentiful, pent-up piddle pouring through the purple fabric as the teenager lets out a sigh of relief. After what seems like an eternity, Lisa's stream finally trickles to a halt, the water in the toilet now a yellow every bit as vibrant as the purple of her three piece swimsuit. After flushing, Lisa heads back to the Villa's common room to check on her mum and nan to find neither of the older ladies present, only to bump into them as they exit their respective rooms. Given that there's no sign of pee anywhere other than their respective swim suits and thighs, Lisa can only assume they barely made it as well, an assumption that seems to be confirmed as June declares, "Looks like we all had a rather close call. I suggest we get cleaned up and then go out for dinner." "That sounds great." replies Lisa as she heads back to her room to take a shower, feeling a bit less embarrassed about her near accident on account of how close the older, more confident women came to having one as well. After a quick shower, each of the lovely ladies slipped into their nicest dresses in preparation to sample some of the finest cuisine the island paradise had to offer. June favored a form fitting, sleeveless black dress that fell nearly to her ankles, but with a slit up one side for greater mobility that exposed the nearly regal older woman's calf and thigh. Elbow length white gloves and shiny black high heels completed the grandmother's outfit. Karen's short sleeved, red dress was every bit as form fitting as her mother's, but stopped just pas her knees, her calves on full display above her red heels. Lisa wore a looser, spaghetti strap dress that showed off a bit of her developing cleavage and only ran to mid-thigh, but wore lavender pantyhose underneath the amethyst dress, and while her own shoes matched her dress like her mum and nan, she wore flats, having not yet gotten the hang of walking in heels. As the trio enjoyed a meal of the finest dishes Spain and the Mediterranean had to offer, all three enjoyed several glasses of wine, probably more than was wise given they hadn't fully recovered from their indulgences earlier in the day, and after eating, none of them ready to call it a night, they decide to check out the night life. At every club and bar the three visit, they all catch the eye of at least one man willing to buy them a drink, and though the two older ladies never allow any of the men to seduce them, or to take advantage of Lisa's lowered guard, much to the teenager's embarrassment, as the evening goes on, their impaired judgment leads them to progressively lower quality establishments. Throughout it all, all three ignore the signals from their tired tinkle tanks despite their close calls mere hours earlier. It's around midnight when their bursting bladders give them a warning they can't brush off. Within a few minutes of each other, All three of them find themselves freezing in the middle of the dance floor of the dingy club their alcohol addled minds have lead them two, pressing their thighs together as, like a trio of bouncers shirking their duties, their respective spincters let a spurt of piddle through to dampen their panties. Excusing themselves, the three head to the loo, leaving their latest dance partners alone on the floor, but after taking one look at what could charitably be called unsanitary conditions, they silently agree that its probably time to call it a night. Too drunk to walk back to their villa, especially given the late hour, the three flag down a taxi, but while sitting in the backseat of the vehicle is a great relief to their feet, sore from a night of dancing and their heads, still spinning from too much wine and spirits, being bent at the waist and with seatbelts stretched taut across their midsections does nothing for their bloated, bursting bladders. During the ride, which seems overly long, but during which none of the ladies question whether the driver is taking a direct route, all three feel a couple more leaks slip past their crumbling control to further dampen their underwear, and if they were less drunk, they might be worried about having wet spots on the seat of their dresses. When they finally return to the villa, June settles their fair as Karen stumbles to the door and tries to unlock it. Vision blurred from God knows how many drinks and hands trembling with the effort of keeping the deluge contained, Karen misses the keyhole at least a dozen times in her attempts to bypass this final barrier to their salvation. As her mother struggles with the locked door, Lisa is practically dancing, the front of her skirt hiked up and her hands clamped over the crotch of her pantyhose as her hips sway side-to-side with as much energy as they did during any of the dances she enjoyed with boys at the clubs that evening, sounding more like a child half her age as she urges, "Hurry, mummy, I can't hold it much longer." "I'm trying, sweetie!" cries the panicked 30-something as she continues to fumble with the keys as June joins her daughter and granddaughter, the older woman's unflappable calm starting to crack was well. "Yes, please hurry dear." declares June, her posture stiff and her fists clenched so tight that her knuckles would be whiter than her gloves if they were visible. And then it happens, sweaty palms added to desperation and drunkenness causes Karen's latest failed attempt to get the key in the lock to result in the key slipping through her fingers. All three girls turn ghost white and their eyes grow big as saucers as the little sliver of brass seems to fall in slow motion, a subjective speed measured in millimeters per minute, nearly in perceptable but no less unstoppable than a tsunami baring down on a small, sandy islet as Lisa, Karen, and June all stare frozen in horror. After what seems like an eternity but is really less than half a second, the key bounces off the villa's front patio, sounding the death knell for all three of the trio's truly titanic, tremendously taut, torturously throbbing, terribly trembling tinkle tanks, thre torrents of tinkle bursting forth, soaking not only their panties, but Lisa's pantyhose and their dresses. As each lady's own personal River Thames gushes forth, their hands clutching at their crotches about as effective as wet tissue at stemming the flow, Lisa cries out what all three are thinking, "Oh sweet Mary, mother of GOD! There's so much and I can't stop IT!" as their puddles run together and swell to put the Atlantic to shame. As the trio finally empty, the entirety of the villa's front patio seeming to glisten in the moonlight from their combined accident, Lisa is the one to bend down and fish the key out of the prodigous pool of piddle and unlock the door that had sealed their fate. Stepping inside, the three, sobered quite a bit by their shared humiliation stand in an awkward silence for several minutes before Karen suggests, "Maybe this would be a good time to try out the jacuzzi?" Her mother and daughter nodding in agreement, Karen leads the way to the Villa's fenced in backyard where a hot tub rests recessed in the deck. Peeling off their soaked clothes and dumping them in a pile on the deck planks, the three lower themselves into the bubbling water before retrieving something fruity, and non-alcoholic, from the conviently located cooler as they let the hot bath wash away their shame and relax their tired muscles. After their communal bath, the trio dry themselves with towels from a warmer kept on the deck before wrapping themselves in the fluffy terrycloth and heading to their respective bedrooms. Exhausted from their long, eventufl days, none of them bother changing into their night clothes, collapsing on their respective beds and letting sleep claim them almost immediately, still wrapped only in the oversized towels.