5-Year-Old-Fievel In, The Quiet Room.

Solo.
Fetishes; Scat and Watersports, (Peeing.)

Characters. Fievel Mousekewitz. And others, like school teachers and counselors. Momma, poppa Mousekewitz.

“Come on Fievel, you don’t want to be late for school.” said poppa.

“Here’s your lunch Fievel.” said momma.
Fievel was rushed so fast after getting up, that he hardly had the time to change clothes, from an old shirt of poppa’s, which covered his privates, to his blue pants and red shirt. He wanted to place on pull-ups, but ended up placing on a regular pair of underwear.

Fievel half ran to school, as he was running on the late side… or at least getting pretty close. He made his classroom just on-time, as he sat at his desk.

The other mice children just nodded at him, as the teacher started.
They were learning how to say some simple words, by their spelling. Like (cat) and (dog.)

Fievel had a good idea already how to spell some words, and had a pretty big vocabulary for a 5-year-old-boy. Fievel felt pain in his bladder, as well as his gut.

Fievel’s normal routine was to poop and pee soon after getting up, and then placing on his normal clothes. Unfortunately for Fievel, this morning he was rushed too fast.

It was partly Fievel’s fault, as he’d gotten up a bit late. So he had to rush to get up, and to school. Fievel sat holding onto his little peen, as he waiting to see what the teacher had in store today.

“Okay class, instead of reading simple words, we’re going to do some simple addition.” said the teacher.
She wrote on the chalkboard, 2+2=4. The class would later have to remember this on their own. Fievel had to pee and poop so badly, he couldn’t think about anything else.

Fievel raised his paw… wanting to go to the bathroom. He waited for only a few moments, until Mrs. Smith asked, “What is it Fievel?”

“I have to go to the bathroom.” answered Fievel.

“You will have to hold it until the end of my class.” said Mrs. Smith.

“But I really have to go.” said Fievel.

“You should have went before you came to class.” said Mrs. Smith.

“Fuck you Mrs. Smith.” said Fievel.

“Excuse me?” asked Mrs. Smith.

“I said fuck you.” said Fievel.

“That’s it, you earned yourself a time out in the quiet room.” said Mrs. Smith.
She grabbed Fievel by one of his ears, and then dragged Fievel into the hallway. Down the hall and into the quiet room. She was pretty upset with little Fievel, using such naughty words. Fievel realized his momma and poppa would be called, so he was in deep.

Mrs. Smith and Fievel got to the door, and then Mrs. Smith pushed Fievel into the quiet room, to take a time out. She would call Fievel’s momma and poppa from the nearby office.

The quiet room had padded walls and floors. You could have slammed yourself into the walls as hard as you could, and still wouldn’t hurt yourself.

It was very much like being in an insane asylum, as everything including the little bench was padded. Fievel broke down crying as his bladder hurt.

Throwing a temper with naughty words was a bad idea, and Fievel knew it. His bladder hurt him, and so did his gut, as he had to go both. He had to poop pretty bad, as well as pee.

He knew he was in trouble too, as the teacher would call momma and poppa, and poppa wouldn’t be very happy when he hear that Fievel used the (F) word, not once, but twice.

So Fievel continued crying, knowing that he was in a heap of trouble. The door did not even have an inside knob, so he couldn’t even try to open the door.

Fievel knocked on the little window, which was unbreakable.
It was made that way, so that that’s the only way you could even slightly harm yourself.

The teacher came to the little window, and then pointed at the little bench. She said through the system, into the mic, to Fievel.

“You do not come out of there, until your parents get here.”

“But I really have to go to the bathroom.” screamed little Fievel.

“NO… you should’ve given that thought, before you sore at me.” said Mrs. Smith.

Fievel sat on the padded bench, holding onto his little peen, as he really had to pee badly. He didn’t know what to do. Momma and poppa both had jobs, so one of them would have to get off work early.

It would probably be poppa, and he’d be pretty upset with little Fievel. Fievel got the equivalent to five dollars in allowance  money. But Fievel said fuck, he would probably lose it all to the swear jar on the fridge.

Fievel sat crying as he held onto his lil peen, knowing well he would be punished at home too. Fievel sat moaning some too, knowing he could only hold it for so much longer.

Meanwhile Mrs. Smith was talking to poppa Mousekewitz on the phone. Poppa told Mrs. Smith he couldn’t get there for another hour or so.

Fievel did not know how long he would have to stay in the quiet room, but his bladder was hurting more and more as he sat on the padded bench.

Fievel had tears running down his face, his bladder hurting, as he held onto his little peen, trying to hold it in. Fievel moaned as he sat there, he knew this might just be worse than the changing room.

Fievel looked over at the little window, on the door. There was no one there watching him, as he sat there having to pee badly.
He wasn’t sure if he was going to just go, like the changing room.
He knew he really had to pee badly though, as well as he had to poop. Tears ran from his eyes, as he got up, and then pulled at his red shirt.

Fievel managed to pull off his blue pants, but it was getting so difficult, that he had to cross his legs, with only underwear on.
Fievel moaned as he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next.
He stood holding onto his little crotch, knowing pee would soon be escaping from his body, as he could not hold it much longer.

Fievel also knew he would be in more trouble because of releasing his body from the pain it was in, but did not care at this point.
Fievel let himself begin to pee, as he had a growing puddle at his foot-paws, allowing his bladder to just empty at this point.

As Fievel let go of his bladder, he felt relief through his body, but pain was still there, as his intestines were still full. He moaned as he soaked his underwear, a puddle of pee growing at his foot-paws.

Fievel began to relax some, as his bladder finished emptying.
He would poop, but did not want it in his underwear. But as he went for pulling them down his body kicked him hard… Fievel had to cross his legs to keep it from going into his underwear.

Fievel held it in, with new tears running down his face. He wanted to just rid himself of his poop too. As soon as he felt like he could, he worked on pulling off his underwear.

As next he got a bit nervous, knowing what it was he was about to do. But his body hurt so badly, he wanted to rid himself of his poop. He bent down some, like sitting in an invisible chair.

Fievel grunted a bit, as he pressed to poop. His poop stretched his anus quite a bit, as he grunted feeling it sliding from his anus.
Halfway done, the door swung open, as Mrs. Smith witnessed Fievel finishing taking a poop, in the middle of his pee puddle.

Fievel blushed, and this was even noticeable with all the fur on his face. As Fievel looked at her, and then began to shake slightly.
He felt the last of his poop drop off, as Mrs. Smith was shaking her head. He figured he was in even deeper trouble at this point.

“Well darn it, I was going to take you to the bathroom.” she said.
Mrs. Smith seemed a lot less as upset, even though Fievel had just finished peeing and pooping on the floor. Instead of getting upset.
“Well Fievel, I’ll have to call the janitor later.” she paused, “Just sit and relax for awhile, you are not free to go though. Your poppa will be here in an hour or so.” said Mrs. Smith.

Fievel did as he was told, as he sat naked on the padded bench.
It seemed to take hours, as finally poppa got there. They would walk home together, as Fievel knew he was in trouble.

They soon got home, as Fievel and poppa went into their house.

“To your room, and dress. You stay there all night. One last thing, give me your allowance money.” said poppa.

“Yes poppa.” answered Fievel.
Fievel headed for his room, got dressed, and then grabbed his whole week’s allowance, as he handed it to his poppa.

“Attaboy, now this goes in the swear jar.” poppa said.
Fievel went back to his room, and then sat on his bed. He would be allowed to leave his room, only for dinner. Then he would have to go back into his room for the evening.

(FIN!)