For several painfully awkward minutes, the women stood in silence, occasionally drinking more icy water and pointedly trying to ignore Priya's wet t-shirt. The time seemed to drag on, and all three women found themselves feeling varying levels of nervousness at the thought that they might be the next target of a hidden nozzle. None of them cared much about showing off their figures by this point, but Priya's reaction had Stacey and Tara thinking about how unpleasantly cold the blast must have been.
'Fuck this.' It was Tara who broke the silence at last. She downed the rest of her glass in one go and let out a satisfied gasp. 'That should speed things up.'
Stacey and Priya exchanged glances, but neither of them seemed to want to follow suit. Even then, nothing happened for several minutes. Eventually, Tara crossed her legs and started to look tense. 'Fuck am I doing,' she asked rhetorically, before pointedly uncrossing them again. It was evidently difficult to fight against her body's own natural reaction and her mind's attempts to avoid the embarrassment of the inevitable. Still, she managed it somehow, and after resisting the urge to quickstep around the small room, she managed to resist the urge to resist the urge to pee.
There was no slow dribble leading to a steady flow here, though. Piss came gushing out, soaking her thong and leggings within seconds. The dark patch spread quickly from her crotch to cover her thighs and a puddle formed at her feet a moment later. Understandably, she couldn't look at either of her colleagues, but she couldn't stop the flow either, once it had started. When it finally ended, he leggings clung to her like Priya's t-shirt clung to her tits. The difference was that her drenching was warm and slightly unpleasant-smelling.
'Oh. Uh-oh,' Stacey murmured. Something about watching Tara semi-willingly pissing herself must have triggered Stacey, because she was next to go, just a moment after Tara finished. She went through a similarly silly dance -- firstly squirming and fighting the impulse, then realising it was pointless. Once she finally managed to fully relax all the relevant muscles, a torrent like Tara's game flooding out of Stacey. The effect was exactly the same, her leggings dark with her own warm piss, soaked and clinging to her while a puddle spread out beneath her. Even Stacey had the decency to blush, but Tara, at least, was understanding. Priya looked mortified. Whether that was because she knew she had to submit to the same urge any moment now or because she was genuinely put out by the piss that was now covering most of the floor, only she could know.
Indeed, a large puddle was spreading across the floor by now. The room wasn't particularly big, and two women had drunk quite a large amount of water to get themselves to piss. That realisation birthed another one: their outfits hadn't been given shoes. None of the women had considered it all that weird at the time. It hadn't even crossed their minds, in fact. Compared to previous outfits, not having shoes didn't warrant a thought. Now, though, with an inexorably spreading puddle of piss on the floor, bare feet provoked a great deal more thought.
'Ah, fuck,' Priya said, interrupting everybody's thoughts. She was adding to the puddle now, too. She couldn't help it, however much she tried to avoid it -- however much she seemed to want to avoid it. Like Stacey and Tara, Priya's leggings turned dark within seconds, and clung to her shapely legs like they'd been painted on. And like the paint was still wet.
There was nowhere to hide now, either. The warm, smelly puddle had spread across the whole floor and no matter how much the three women tried to stand on their tip toes or look for a dry corner, it didn't help. After all, their feet were drenched by the initial release, so each of them in turn resigned themselves to standing bare foot in the piss. None of them looked happy about it, of course, but there was no avoiding it.
'Well this is...' Stacey tried to break the awkward silence, but her heart wasn't in it. What could she really say, anyway?
'Well done, girls,' Master said, doing what Stacey couldn't. 'But the door mechanism isn't quite working. I'll get it any moment now. You girls just hang five. Talk among yourselves.'
He didn't even try to sound convincing. It was obviously a lie. He was obviously rubbing their predicament in their faces and there was nothing they could do about it.
Priya still looked particularly disgusted by her surroundings, straining her feet to stand on tip-toes, but all three women were eager to get out of this room. If they had been in a more reflective mood, it might have amused them that the simplest room had caused them arguably the most discomfort, at least socially. Understandably, though, none of them were feeling particularly mindful.
Finally, mercifully, a door slid open in the opposite wall and the three women were free to move on. Less mercifully, there was no sign of a way to clean up. Even walking a few feet into the next room was a constant, uncomfortable reminder of the experience they had all just shared. Warm, damp and slightly chafing, the figure-hugging leggings didn't help either. They moved on in the same awkward silence, each individually contemplating -- and dreading -- what might be next.
