Mermaid Movie

This story is fiction. It involves the use of models to be dressed as mermaids for a movie sequence, where they must wear the mermaid costumes for a long time during which they must consume a lot of fluid, but cannot urinate. No hard sex, nothing non–consensual. W/s (Hold–it), exhibitionism, consensual, MFFFFFF This is a long story, you don’t read it in 5 minutes!
CHAPTER 1 A Challenge
Tim Holt recognized a real challenge when he saw one, even if his client didn’t. Tim worked with a small modeling agency in a moderately sized seacoast town of New England, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be called upon to provide models for photographers or movie makers using his area for location work. The rocky seashore area was popular for vacationers and make a great backdrop for shoreline activities.
Russell Thatcher, producing a low–budget movie, had called on Tim with a very simple request; he needed six models who would be costumed as mermaids and would serve as a kind of background scenery for a sequence he intended to shoot. Originally, the scene had been planned for nearer his home studio in California; but the director had recently viewed a location not far from Tim, and decided it was just the perfect spot to use, so they had decided to shoot on location. Tim now had been asked to find six female models to portray the mermaids, and to be ready with them in about ten days. Thatcher’s company would rent a small studio in Tim’s area, where they would store their equipment, and prepare the actors and models for the scene.
Tim had been provided a synopsis of the script, for his use in selecting suitable candidates. The scene they intended to shoot was only a small part of the movie, and they intended to do it in one day, once everything was set up. The actual shooting location was to be an isolated rocky area of coastline about fifty miles away, and at that location there were no buildings or facilities of any kind, so all of the participants and equipment would be taken directly there from the rented studio. It was intended to do all of the shooting in one day, as it would expensive to return to the location. Also, he had learned that the director was quite fussy about the quality of his work, and, without an opportunity to return to the site, he wanted all shooting done with numerous takes. This would give him maximum opportunity to select that most to his liking for the final production.
The scene involved a “dream” sequence within a larger story. Only the “dream” sequence would be shot here. The scenario called for what would be portrayed as a dream of the main character (played by a male actor). In the story, the principal character has heard a legend that mermaids inhabit a certain isolated coastal area where they can occasionally be seen by humans. In the dream sequence, he dreams that he and two friends go in their truck to the area, intent on capturing mermaids, which they would intend to take home with them. As they explore the area, they come upon a family of mermaids, consisting of five young mermaids and their ever–watchful mermaid mother. All of them are reclining on rocks by the sea. The men approach the mermaids and make overtures to befriend them. In typical mermaid fashion, the mermaids never speak, but the men consider how to go about capturing three of them, while they do not want to tangle with the mother who keeps an eye on everything going on. They hit upon an idea, and produce from their truck a supply of champagne glasses and a number of bottles of champagne (in dream sequences one does not need to be concerned with the logic of carrying such things in a truck). They offer the mermaids, including Mama mermaid, champagne. Never having tasted it before, the mermaids sip it cautiously, then enthusiastically down it – glass after glass. While they are doing this, the men debate among themselves which of the mermaids they will try to take. After a time, all of the mermaids, including the mother, become so drunk they pass out. The men then carry the three they have selected, unconscious, back to their truck and drive away.
The scene seems simple. The actors do all the talking and the action. The mermaids only have to sit there, look pretty, and drink numerous glasses of champagne. In reality, of course, it won’t be champagne, but soda water or something similar that will look like champagne; but they will have to drink it, as that is their part of the action. And, Tim knew, each scene would be shot many times.
So he knew he needed six women, five youthful ones, and one older one to portray the mother. All they had to do was lie on the rocks, in costume, and drink simulated champagne. Russell had not seen that it should be difficult to find female models locally to portray the mermaids.
Yes, Tim thought, he could probably find five girls and one older woman to be mermaids. Thatcher’s company was going to provide the costumes, which were already made, and the place where they would dress and be made up. Thatcher had told him, of course, that mermaids were ordinarily topless, and the models would have to appear this way (it was obviously an adult–oriented movie). The costumes covered the models only from the waist down. Tim recognized that this did impose a bit of a limitation, but he could find girls willing to be topless for this scene. A bigger problem, but not unsolvable, would be the “mother” mermaid, as Thatcher had specified that she must have gray hair (this could be sprayed, if necessary, but natural gray would be preferred), and must have the appearance of an attractive woman about fifty or more.. She would have to appear bare–breasted, as a mermaid, but it was specified that her breasts must have a fair amount of droop, so as to clearly suggest that she is much older than the others. Tim knew he could come up with older models, but the requirement to be attractive in appearance yet to have obviously drooping breasts and a willingness to display them bare, would somewhat limit the field.
Tim had done a bit of research on who among his lists of models he might use, when he decided that he needed to be certain just what the costuming would be like. When he found out from Russell Thatcher a little more about the costumes, he began to realize he indeed had a challenge on his hands.
The mermaid costumes had already been made, and at minimum cost (this was a low budget movie). Since they were to be used only for one day, it had not been thought necessary to make them particularly durable or reusable. After all, the mermaids would only lie on the rocks in them while the scene was being shot. They didn’t have to move around; they could be carried into position, and the actors would carry off several of them later.
Actually, the wearers would hardly be able to move, at least from the waist down. The wearers would have nothing on from the waist up, but the costumes would encase them from the waist down, completely hiding their legs. Instructions had been prepared for dressing the mermaids, and Tim had read them. While specific, they did not directly suggest any major complications.
He had been given a size range for the models, but the costumes could accommodate a reasonable range of sizes. He noted the one for the mother was a bit larger. Size would not be a major problem. Under the costumes, the wearers could not wear anything. Underwear of any kind might cause lines to show or would interfere with the make–up process. Before putting on the costume, the wearer would have to lie (presumably naked) holding her legs together. A thin but tough ribbon was to be used to loosely bind both legs together, to prevent any accidental movement which might damage the costume; so, once dressed, the wearer had to remain with her legs bound together until the day’s work was done. The costumes themselves were fragile, being made of a kind of paper mache with an elastic top. Actually, each would come in three pieces; a front and back which were molded into the fishtail shape, and which would be placed on the wearer and the two halves then fastened together; after which the elastic portion would be slid into position over the top portion and covering the area just below the wearer’s waist.
The make–up people could trim the front and back halves slightly to adjust the fit to the wearer, and after all the pieces were in place, a type of body make–up would be applied over any visible seams and to shade the costume into the wearer’s body.
Obviously, the costumes were intended to be worn only once, and once in place, were not intended to be taken off until no longer needed. As the actual costumes were fragile and were not intended to be reused, the wearer had to keep her legs together and quite still as long as she wore the costume.
Thatcher’s costumer had sent Tim a note with a bit of added information. “Whoever you select as a mermaid needs to know that she will have to be dressed in the costume very early in the day, and the process of dressing and applying make–up will probably take an hour, possibly an hour and a half. She will have to wear the costume all day, or at least until the shooting is finished. She can move her legs a little, but the costume will probably make her feel cramped. With the costume on, she cannot walk or even crawl, so she will have to be carried to wherever she must go. Also, this type of costume tends to be quite warm for the body parts it covers. She will probably find that her legs get hot, but as she will be bare from the waist up, and presumably near the seashore with the probability of some cool breezes, it should be tolerable. When we designed these costumes, we expected to be shooting very near the studio, so you will need to make the wearers aware of the time it will take to transport them to the scene of shooting.”
The challenge, Tim realized, was the time the models would have to wear the mermaid costumes. An hour and a half to get dressed and made up, he calculated, plus about two hours and a half to get to the location (possibly an optimistic assumption, given its isolation), then maybe an hour or two to set up. That came to six hours, and Russell had said he wanted the models available for at least six hours to do the shooting and retakes, with the possibility of overtime if needed. Even not counting the trip back, the models would need to wear the mermaid costumes twelve hours or more. He verbally went over his calculations with Lucy, his office assistant sitting across from him.
“Lucy, don’t you think those girls are going to get very cramped legs, having to keep them together in that suit for twelve hours? Think we can get girls willing to do it? Seems a long time!”
“Tim, you started out saying all they had to do was lie there in the costumes while the shooting goes on. By the time they get to the shooting, they’ll have been in those things six hours. I hope they’re still going to feel like looking pretty! Glad it isn’t going to be me. I hope you come up with a warm day for their top halves and a cool one for their bottoms!”
“Well, at least they’ll get to guzzle some make–believe champagne! Russ said he expected a number of takes, and they have to be seen drinking the stuff. That’ll keep them cooled off!”
“Champagne! You didn’t tell me about the champagne!”
“Don’t get excited, Lucy. It’ll only be make–believe champagne, but each girl will probably get to drink two or three glasses for each take. The drinking has to be real, that’s been specified. So they won’t be thirsty. I’ll try to arrange to have it chilled, so it will help keep them comfortably cool.”
“COMFORTABLY cool? They may be cool, but they sure won’t be comfortable. I didn’t know about the champagne part of it. You may have a real problem getting girls who can do this!” Lucy seemed a bit dubious.
“Yeah, I figured we’ll have to explain it all to them. But I can hike the hourly rate a bit, and they ought to be able to endure a few cramps in their legs for what they’ll get. Especially if it runs into overtime!”
“You’re worried about cramps in their legs? That’s going to be a minimal problem. Tim, don’t you know anything about female biology?”
“What do you mean? Every model has to get used to a little discomfort!”
Lucy shook her head in disgust. “Tim, how long do you figure they have to keep those fish legs on, altogether?”
“Probably a bit over twelve hours. They’ll need to be prepared for possibly fifteen, though, with the chance of overtime or the return trip.”
“Tim, do a little thinking. They are in those things, all sewed up, with their legs tied together. Once they’re in that state, they can’t go to the bathroom until the day’s over. Right?”
Tim thought a bit. He had been thinking of the hot legs cramped up in the fishtail costumes. Lucy had a significant point. “I guess you’re right. So we better warn them before they go…”
“BEFORE? Tim, could you go twelve hours, let alone fifteen, without going to the bathroom? Even without guzzling a dozen glasses of make–believe champagne? Then you want them to drink like fish during a six hour shoot, which may mean they have to down a couple of liters of the stuff, if he insists on a lot of retakes. Then, if one of them leaks, the costume gets wet and you know they’re not waterproof, so they will fall apart. You better find girls with iron bladders!”
“Lucy, what am I going to do? Russ is an important client, and he isn’t going to budge on his requirements. We’ve got to find six models for this job. How do we do it?”
“Look, Tim, about all I know is that I couldn’t do what this is going to take, even if I had the shape for it. You’re going to have to call those on your list and give them the requirements. You’ve got to tell them the job calls for posing half nude with their legs encased in a tail for fifteen hours, while drinking a quart or two of liquid and absolutely no bathroom breaks! You’d better offer a good price! And even if they say they’ll do it, you’d better come up with a way to test them, because if it turns out they can’t do it you’re going to have a big problem!”
All of this resulted in a long planning session, well into the evening, between Tim and Lucy. Eventually they did come up with a plan.
CHAPTER 2 Applicants
Information for Those Interested in Posing for Special Mermaid Scene
Will require models to wear mermaid costume for up to fifteen hours continuously, one day only; semi–nudity required. Five youthful female models needed, plus one female between 50 and 60. Older model should preferably have natural gray hair. All must have attractive appearance and youthful models must have slender figures. Mature model should be slender with notably mature bustline. Models will require substantial physical endurance, which must be demonstrated in advance.
Those who wish to apply as mermaid models for this event should call to make an appointment for interview with Tim Holt.
Please arrive for your interview in casual attire, but without brassiere and with bladder full to capacity.
Lucy and Tim looked at the information sheet they had prepared for the prospective mermaids. It was being provided to those they considered prospects and anyone else who expressed an interest. “It’s the strangest looking sheet I’ve ever produced”, Lucy commented. “I’m going to have a hard time making explanations for all this! I’m going to get the questions.” She shook her head, smiling. “What do I say when they ask what, ‘full to capacity’ means?”
“Just tell them what we agreed upon. It doesn’t mean they just feel like they need to go to the bathroom; they have to be way beyond that, holding as much as they can possibly stand. Tell them they will be tested on it. I think you should feel the applicant’s bladder before she comes in, and if her abdomen doesn’t feel absolutely hard, you should tell her to go drink a few glasses of water and come back later! With the procedure we discussed, you should be able to.”
“Yes, I hope it works. Let’s see, I’m to make appointments so we don’t have over one at a time, and I will be sure they meet the requirements before I send them in to you. We agreed I would have them remove everything above the waist before they come in to see you. I suppose you’d like to interview them naked, and watch them pee at the end of the interview, but I doubt most would agree to that. Since the job doesn’t require them to show their legs, it doesn’t really matter what kind of legs they have. “
“OK, let’s do it that way. I will interview them, and draw it out for a while. If she really has a bladder full to capacity, you will have checked it and found it feels hard, so if you send one in, I’m going to assume she is full to the brim. By dragging out the interview, and asking her to pose a bit, I’ll be able to judge if she can really look cute and pretty while struggling with an overstretched bladder. If I’m satisfied with her, I’ll send her back to you, and then you ask her to go behind the screen and pee into the pitcher. If she can’t do it, she must not be full enough. If she produces much less than a quart, we probably can’t use her because she won’t be able to hold enough for the session, what with all she’ll have to drink. We can’t risk using a girl with a small bladder, or who doesn’t have really good control over it. It should be a good test. But I’m still afraid of the one we need for the mermaid mother – finding an older woman to meet these requirements is going to be rough!”
They did their work, and Lucy began to call their list to schedule interviews. They hoped at least a few new volunteers would call in to get on the list.
Monday morning came, and Lucy had scheduled nine interviews, starting at 9 A.M. Time was getting short, for on Friday the scene was to be shot. They needed to have their mermaids prepared.
At nine, the Paula showed up, the first candidate. She was twenty, about five feet five, slender and very good looking. She had on casual attire, as had been requested; jeans, with a colorful shirt. Lucy looked her over. There were no bra straps in evidence. Her bustline, however, looked high and firm, but not particularly large. She was noticeably nervous, fidgeting and shifting from one foot to another.
Lucy greeted her, then made an excuse to have her wait. She slipped quickly into Tim’s office. “Number 1 is here, Tim! And the way’s she’s jumping around, she must be close to full up! I’ll keep her maybe fifteen minutes and send her in with her top half au naturel.”
“Paula,. sorry to keep you waiting. Did you understand clearly what we need?”
Paula nodded, fidgeting nervously. “I’ve tried to meet what you asked, but isn’t this a very unusual type of interview? It seems the rules are a bit as though I was going for a medical.”
“Yes, Paula, it is unusual. We not only have to have models for this job who look the part, but they have to have a lot of physical endurance. The day of the shooting will be a very long one, and you will have to spend it inside a costume that will greatly restrict you. We have to be sure the ones we select can tolerate it.”
“I know about what a mermaid costume is going to look like, so I guess that explains the no–bra bit; but I don’t understand why I need to come with my bladder so darned full! Do mermaids have to pee in this scene? If that’s part of it, I’m really not quite into that!”
Lucy laughed a bit. “No, Paula, the mermaids won’t have to pee. In fact it’s really the opposite of that – mermaids don’t pee, and the models posing as mermaids won’t be able to, at least not as long as they are wearing the costumes, which may be up to fifteen hours. During that time, however, they will have to drink quite a bit of liquid, as part of the scene. We need models who can look like mermaids, but they also have to be able to hold a lot of pee for a long time, and we can’t take a chance on you not being able to do it next Friday. That’s why we need to have it demonstrated today. Do you understand?”
Paula seemed a bit astounded. “I see your point. I need to get on with this – what do I do?”
“Slip off your shirt and let me see you without it. You can hang it on the clothes rack. I see you followed the rules –no bra. right?”
“Right. I got it. Say, if I take things off here, is someone going to walk in one me? I don’t want to be an exhibitionist!”
“Don’t worry,” Lucy reassured her. I’ve got the outer door locked. I won’t unlock it while you’re undressed.”
“Did you say undressed? Look here, the paper said semi–nude. I’m willing to do bare breasts, but I don’t really do full frontal nudity!”
“Calm it, Paula. For the interview, you have to be nude from the waist up. You only need to be totally nude for the time you’re being dressed. The costumers will require you to strip while they get your costume on, because it has to go over bare skin; but there will be no posing or photos of your bottom half. However, you will need to be interviewed with your breasts bare, and afterward I will ask you to step behind the screen and empty your bladder into a container.”
Paula looked puzzled, but removed her shirt. Lucy had her make several turns, satisfying herself that Paula had a good enough figure for the mermaid scene. She asked Paula to stand close to her. Carefully, Lucy pressed on Paula’s abdomen. It did indeed feel hard, and the touch made Paula wince noticeably.
“You feel reasonably full. Paula. Tell me what you did to assure that you had a full bladder?”
Paula blushed a bit. Being half naked was bad enough, but having to talk about her urinary situation was really stressing her modesty. “Well, I got up about seven. Usually, I go to the bathroom and take a pee right after getting up. Today I skipped that. I drank about five cups of coffee instead of eating breakfast, and also had a big glass of juice and two glasses of water, all between seven thirty and eight. Then I drank a canned drink on the way down here.”
“How does your bladder feel, and when did you pee last?”
“I haven’t peed since about eleven last night; and my bladder is sore. It feels hard when I touch it, and it hurts, and I really need to pee something awful! When can I?”
“In a little while, after your interview is over. All right, you can go in and see Mr. Holt, now!” She started to open Tim’s door.
“Just like you are. Bladder and all. Mr. Holt will make the decision on who we select.”
Blushing and shaking, wearing only her shoes and jeans, Paula walked into Tim’s office. He rose to greet her, and extended his hand. She hardly knew how to act., She wasn’t accustomed to doing interviews half nude, and, anyway, her distended bladder was hurting her terribly. But she was a model, and she tried to maintain some semblance of poise.
Tim tried to ease her a bit. “Paula, I hope Lucy explained why we’re doing things this way. I know you are terribly uncomfortable, but this is the way you’re likely to feel toward the end of the day on Friday, if you’re with us when we do the shooting. Despite how you feel, we still need models who can look like pretty mermaids. So I need you to show me how you would do it.”
He talked with her a few minutes, had her walk and pose, and looked her over carefully. She did try to recoup her composure and managed a smile. She did have a good figure, and her bare breasts were perfect for a mermaid. After about twenty minutes, Tim decided to go to the physical test.
“Paula, I had to ask you to do this, but we have to see what your bladder capacity is, because we can’t risk using a girl with a weak or small bladder. What do you think about yours?”
“Right now,” Paula replied, “it feels as big as a watermelon and as hard as a rock. I hope you’re going to let me relieve it soon!”
“Right now,” Tim responded. He produced a large plastic pitcher bearing calibrations. “I am going to send you out to Lucy, with this. She will allow you to go behind a screen in the outer office, and fill it as much as you can. That will give us an idea of what your bladder capacity is. Go ahead!” He handed her the pitcher, and escorted her to the door.
Outside, Lucy directed her to a screen set up at one end of the room. “You may go behind it, while you fill the pitcher,” she directed.
“Do I have to do it here? Can’t I go to a bathroom?” Paula asked, nervously.
Lucy explained with a shake of her head, “We can’t take any chances of applicants filling the pitcher from a water faucet or from someone else. I must ask you to do it here. You do want the relief, don’t you? And the modeling job?”
She blushed some more, but stepped behind the screen. She unfastened her jeans, dropped them and her panties, and assumed a half–squatting position, holding the pitcher under her with one hand.
It took her a minute or so to get things going, but she did manage to urinate into the pitcher. To her surprise, Lucy talked to her while she was urinating, asking her of her schedule to assure her availability for the job. She answered, thoughtfully, but horribly embarrassed to be talking while she was urinating into a pitcher.
At length she finished. “Do you want it?” she asked, holding the pitcher. Lucy took it, inspected it, and noted the calibrations. “920 ml’s – just a little less than a quart. That’s a good load for you. And it’s not too strong, either, showing you drank a lot recently and that dilutes it. OK, thank you. I believe you can be confident of being one of our mermaids.” She asked her to put her shirt on and wait, while Lucy went in to see Tim with the foaming pitcher of yellowish urine. “I think she meets our standards, Tim. Close to a quart. And you know, she sure feels better!” she commented to Tim, as Paula retrieved her clothes and began dressing. Lucy returned to the outer office, carrying the pitcher. She thanked Paula and dismissed her with assurance she would be very favorably considered, after which she took the pitcher out to dispose of its contents.
At ten, the second candidate showed up. Lucy took her through much the same routine. She was just a little older than Paula, with a good figure. She didn’t seem quite so nervous, though.
Tim found out why. After his interview, when she seemed just too relaxed, he gave her the pitcher and Lucy found out she had only 500ml in her bladder – a little over half of what Paula had held.
The day went on. By mid–afternoon, he had found three girls whom he felt would make good mermaids, and seemed to have adequate bladder capacity. Another, terribly upset about her small bladder, asked if she could come back and try again Tuesday. Two, disturbed about the whole procedure, left before reaching Tim for an interview. He had three more to interview today.
Around 4:30, he conferred with Lucy.
“We’re doing pretty good with our young mermaids, but what have got for the mermaid mom? I haven’t heard you say a thing!”
Lucy shrugged. “Only one bite, and the woman wasn’t interested after I explained it. You had it right – it’s going to be hard to find an older woman for this. “
One more mermaid candidate was added to the “maybe list”, after Tim finished with an hour later. He returned her to Lucy, who directed her to the screen, from where she returned holding a pitcher filled to 800ml. Lucy reported to Tim, who responded “She did pretty well, but I don’t really think she looks right. What else have we got coming?”
“One more tonight, and then there’s a list for tomorrow.”
Tim began his last scheduled interview for the day with Renee, 29 years old, and the most relaxed one he had seen all day. She walked proudly and confidently into his office, nude to the waist, as they all had been. She didn’t seem to mind this at all, and acted quite at ease.
Before him, she did the right posing. He thought she was a bit old for the job, but she had a good shape, and she certainly had poise. What bothered him was that she did not seem to suffer from bladder distress at all, though Lucy had signaled him that she indeed had a very firm hard bladder.
He felt compelled to broach the question to her. “You know,” he began, “you are very poised and you certainly are experienced and look the part. But I don’t understand you feelings – you are either awfully good at covering up your bodily feelings, or your bladder really isn’t full. Which is it?”
“Lucy asked me what I did to get ready, that is, to fill my bladder, and I told her. I know you want it full, and if you want me to, I can demonstrate how full it is. I just have a good capacity. I have had to hold myself lots of times, and I have become good at it. Yes, it’s stretched pretty bad, and it’s hurting me a bit, but I’ve learned to handle it.”
“Good. you can show us” He handed her the pitcher, and started to usher her to the outer office.. She stood still, looking a bit puzzled at first, but seemed to get the message. “I’d prefer to make the demonstration for you, instead of Lucy, if you don’t mind,” she said, rather firmly. Tim was a bit astounded, and answered “Do you really? Well, OK, if you want to, but I’m not requiring it. Without a further question, she unfastened her slacks and stepped out of them, then pulled off her panties, still standing in the same spot. Then she spread her legs, held the pitcher under herself, standing erect, and began to pee a fierce stream into it.
“Does this satisfy you?” she asked, calmly, while her stream shot forcefully into the pitcher, already half full. He asked her how she had prepared, and, while continuing to urinate, she answered “I drank water all afternoon. I don’t know how much. At one point, I drank a quart almost straight down. Another time I drank several glasses, then stopped only because my stomach was full. I haven’t eaten all day, just filled my stomach with water. It’s all water, and I probably drank over three quarts. I haven’t peed since eight this morning, until now; and, you’ll notice, I’m still peeing, and I have more in me. I think I’m going to fill this pitcher. Do you have another?”
He was amazed. He did have a second pitcher and got it for her. She calmly stopped her flow, handed him the pitcher filled with about 1350ml of almost clear urine. She placed the second pitcher under herself, and asked, calmly, “shall I start up again?” He answered, “Go ahead”, and she released her stream again, continuing her commentary as the liquid poured from her, “I’m getting low now, probably will stop soon. Am I producing enough for you?”
He was amazed. She produced almost another 300ml in the second pitcher, a total of about 1650. What amazed him most was her seeming lack of distress with a bladder that must have been exceedingly well stretched.
He concluded the interview, and shared his report with Lucy. “I think she’s mermaid number 4”, he indicated. Lucy seemed to agree, but she had something else to report. “The Mermaid Mom – I’ve actually got a bite!”
She got his interest, and continued, “I’ve called four of our mature models, and didn’t get anyone who would interview for it. But I got a call from a Martha Lewis, who want to be interviewed tomorrow. She wanted to be sure she understood the requirements. She wanted to be allowed to come in wearing a bra, saying she would take it off during the interview. I talked her out of that, and told her we needed to see how she looked braless as she came in. She really didn’t want to walk around without a bra, but said she would pose bare breasted. The bladder thing bothered her too –she said how full is full. I told her again, it means as full as she can stand it. Her reply was ‘you mean so full it hurts”, and I said yes, indeed. She’s 56, says she has natural gray hair, but asked for a later appointment, said she needed time to fill herself up. So I gave her eleven tomorrow.”
“She’s a bit older than I would like, and it sounds like she’s probably got well hinged breasts; but, well, she’s the only mermaid mom we’ve got so far.”
That evening, Tim tried to get two older women who had done modeling for a friend, but got a complete turn down from one, and an “I’ll think about it” from the other.
Tuesday began with them still needing one young mermaid and a mermaid mom.
CHAPTER 3 Mermaid Mom
The first interview, early at eight o’clock, did not go well. The candidate decided she would not try to endure what was required, and left. The second produced a possible, until she got the pitcher test, which resulted in only 200ml. Tim decided she either wasn’t trying, or had a hopelessly small bladder. She wouldn’t have been able to last through even half of the day, he decided.
He was getting discouraged, but the third candidate was better. She was terribly nervous and upset, apparently because her bladder was indeed overly full, and she said she was not sure she could hold it even to the end of the interview. She constantly asked to relieve herself and return to the interview afterward, but Tim wouldn’t let her. Actually, he was quite pleased at her agitation, for it showed she had indeed filled her bladder to the bursting point. She did hold to the end of the interview, and produced 770ml when she used the pitcher. Tim was pleased, although he had hoped she would come up with a bit more. He felt she would do, but admonished her to try just a little harder on her capacity, warning her Friday was going to be a difficult day for her. As she left, he announced to Lucy that she could be number five.
A few minutes before eleven, Lucy saw through the window an older woman walking toward their building entrance. This, she thought, will be Martha Lewis. A couple of minutes later, Martha Lewis indeed rang the bell at the office door. Lucy, delighted to finally have a candidate for Mermaid Mom, welcomed her to the office, insuring the door locked again behind her.
Martha was quite tall, about five nine, and weighed in at 135. She was not as slender as the younger candidates, but her face was smooth and with only a trace of age lines. Her hair was solid gray, worn at shoulder length. She wore a light yellow shirt and nicely fitting blue slacks. She was holding herself very stiff and erect, and her posture caused her to appear about aloof. Lucy sized this up as the attempt of an older woman to keep her breasts lifted and still. Lucy recalled that this lady did not want to walk in braless, but had finally agreed to. She stood stiffly, swallowed noticeably, and seemed quite uncomfortable. Lucy was delighted. This lady was probably walking around without a bra when she really needed one, and with a very uncomfortably full bladder.
Lucy insured that Martha was indeed braless. Martha, when asked, simply slipped her shirt collar to the edge of her shoulder, evidencing that there was no bra strap there. Martha commented “I hate to be braless, but I understand this is what you require. You can see I have no bra. Do you want me to take the shirt off?”
“That would be a good idea,” Lucy responded. “Also, tell me how you prepared your bladder for this visit?”
Martha unbuttoned her shirt, and opened it, revealing two moderately sized breasts, with large, dark, and very erect nipples. They drooped a bit, even as she tried to stiffen her back and hold them up. In fact, the erect nipples pointed downward perhaps thirty degrees, and the underside of her breasts were hardly visible. As she removed the shirt, she commented on her condition. “They’ve stiffened from rubbing against my shirt – as I told you, I don’t usually go braless, and they do quiver a bit…” She was obviously referring to her nipples. “And, as for my bladder condition, I can assure it it’s not only full, it’s bulging. I hope you don’t want me to show you – my bottom isn’t that pretty, but I think my top is pretty good for my age. I don’t know what you are expecting. I last went to the bathroom about seven thirty, and I have drunk about ten glasses of fluid since then, mostly water and soft drinks. I understand this is some kind of a test to see if I can wait ! a long time without going to the bathroom, and I think I do as well in that as most younger women. But I kid you not, the whole area below my stomach is swollen and aching, and I think that’s where most of the water is now.”
Lucy explained to her a bit more of the Mermaid Mom situation, and what she would have to go through. She asked Martha to turn and let her see her body in profile, and from the rear.
Martha still stood rather stiffly, and finally Lucy told her, “Mrs. Lewis, you are standing rather stiffly. I think you are trying to hold your breasts high, but I really need to see them more relaxed. Please face me and bend over – put your hands on my desk. I want to see how your breasts hang naturally!”
“They do hang.” Martha replied, doing as told. “they’re not as firm as when I was younger.”
“Yes,” Lucy agreed. “But we don’t want firm young breasts in your situation. We want older breasts, and we want them to hang gracefully. Now I want you to shake them slightly, so I can see how they move.” Martha, obviously embarrassed, managed a little shake, Her nipples, still erect, quivered a bit. Softly, she said, “my bladder’s so, so, full!” Lucy smiled, satisfied.
Lucy instructed Martha to stand in front of her, explaining that she needed to press slightly on her abdominal area to see how her bladder felt. Martha protested a bit, but stood in front of Lucy as she palpated the woman gently. The hardness was apparent, and Lucy nodded to her. “I think you’re in the condition we expect. You may go in!” Lucy opened the door to Tim’s office.
Lucy ushered in the semi–nude gray haired woman. Martha at first tried to cover her breasts from his view, but hastily reconsidered and accepted Tim’s extended hand. He had her stand before him, then she had to turn, showing him her body from every side. Her had her bend over, viewing her breasts as they hung. The nipples were still erect, stimulated by their unaccustomed exposure.
Tim was satisfied at her appearance. He told her so. Finally, he produced the pitcher and instructed her to return to the outer office, behind the screen, and empty the contents of her bladder into it. She was very reluctant, finally agreeing. Her urination was slow, not as forceful as many of the younger women, and when she was through, she produced the pitcher, with its contents at 650ml. Lucy reported the results.
Tim was disturbed, “Martha”, he began, “In everything else you will do quite well as the Mermaid Mom. You look good, and your breasts are right for the job. Your hair is great, and so is your color. But if your bladder capacity is only this much, I don’t think you could last through the day! I just wish you could stretch your bladder a little more, in fact, about half again as much! I can’t really take a chance on you not being to hold it long enough to get through the day!”
Martha was a bit downcast. “I guess I’m just an old lady, and I must not have prepared well enough. But I tell you this, if you use me, I won’t wet myself! I’ve never done that. I’ll hold on, no matter how much it hurts, even if I feel like I’ll burst! I may complain about the pain, but I can stand it. Just let me try!”
Tim knew that he had no other candidate at the moment. He looked at this half–naked, 56 year old woman, now with her back drawn up and her breasts proudly thrust at him, even if pointing a bit downward, and he thought she was perfect, if only her bladder would hold. He told her he would consider her plea, and then escorted her to the door.
Two more young mermaid candidates showed up that afternoon, although one declined to interview. Tim dismissed the other because he was not impressed by her figure.
As the last candidate left, Lucy picked up the ringing telephone. A female voice presented itself. “I am Eileen Townsend. Tim called me last night. I would like to interview for the mermaid assignment, if I may. I’ve thought about it carefully. I can come in tomorrow morning, if you still want to talk about it
Lucy, somewhat ecstatic, signaled Tim. Eileen was told to come in at nine. She objected. “You know, with the requirements you have imposed, I’d really like to come in earlier. I mean, well, it’s the requirement about a full bladder. Could you make it earlier?”
Tim whispered to Lucy to find out why she wanted an earlier appointment, but told her to make it anyway. “It’s a matter of timing. Tim told me that the bladder requirement was because I might have to go fifteen hours without using a bathroom. I didn’t know if I could do it, but now I’ve tried, and I think I can. It’s five thirty now; fifteen hours from now is eight thirty in the morning. I’ve just emptied my bladder after holding it for fourteen hours, but I didn’t drink much. I don’t plan to empty it again before I come in, and from about seven I intend to start drinking all the water I can hold. I don’t know what this is going to do to me, but I intend to be extremely full when I come in. I will not be wearing a bra, in fact, I won’t be wearing much of anything if I can come in early.”
Lucy was amazed, but put her down for eight. She and Tim smiled at each other.
Wednesday, promptly at eight, they had a visitor at the door. Eileen Townsend indeed was there. Lucy viewed her as she came in. She had short gray hair, a slightly tanned skin color. Her rather small beasts moved only slightly beneath their thin covering. She wore a red robe, very light and thin, tied with a thin cord at her waist. She was slender, reported her weight as 130, and her age as 53, and on her feet she wore sandals. She was smiling, and her face was clear and attractive, with very subtle make–up. As Lucy looked at her, she guessed that the robe was her only garment and that she was naked under it.
Eileen was not hampered by excessive modesty. “‘Are you ready for me, and is it all right if I take the robe off?” she asked.. Lucy nodded, and her guess was affirmed. Eileen Townsend kicked off her sandals, and stood in front of her, naked.
Lucy quickly commented on her nudity, remarking that it was necessary only to display her breasts. However, she added, “since you have come without any other clothing than the robe, we will agree to interview you naked, as long as you don’t mind.”
She posed quite erect, for a moment, allowing Lucy to view her body. The tan color did not extend below her neck, indicating that she had not been sunning herself topless, but her body was firm. Her breasts were not large, and had only a little sag to them. Below her navel, her carefully trimmed pubic hair showed, and there was an obvious bulge suggesting her bladder was indeed very, very, full.
Her face bore a smile, but as Lucy looked at her, there were tears in her eyes, and she was shaking, visibly.
Lucy could see that there was an attempt to display nonchalance, and her apparent lack of modesty was feigned, for she was obviously nervous, blushing slightly, and trying to cover her intense discomfort. She was in great pain, Lucy concluded, from the attempt to retain her urine, and she was trying to cover it with an attitude that would allow her to get it over with as quickly as possible. Lucy recalled that Eileen had said she intended to drink all the water should hold this morning, after already having held her urine for at least fourteen hours; and this lady had put herself into a position of extreme discomfort with a painfully distended bladder being forced to accept a further huge load of water, and using all the muscle strength she could command to hold it. No wonder she wanted to go through it as fast as possible. That was the reason for wearing only one garment and being so quick to discard it.
Lucy had her pose quickly, looking at her on all sides. She was indeed an attractive woman, but, Lucy noted, her small breasts were firm and stayed quite well in place when she moved, where the request was for breasts that sagged more and looked older.
Eileen seemed not at all embarrassed when she was ushered, nude, into Tim’s office. She held out her hand in greeting, with no attempt at all to cover her body. Tim noted, however, that the hand he did not grasp immediately fell to her crotch and pressed into her pubic region, a sure sign of her bladder distress.
Tim had her pose in various positions, which she did. He tried to put her in postures where her breasts would move a bit, but they simply didn’t cooperate. Actually, they were quite firm and high, but this was not in keeping with the requirement.
Tim, also saw the tears in her eyes and noted her shaking. He had, with other candidates, tried to draw out the interview, to see how the woman would come across trying to maintain poise when her bladder was painfully full, but he could see this one was having a hard time with it already. Try as she could, the pain was showing, and the poise was not equal to covering it.
Eileen knew she was not handling it the way she hoped. She got to the breaking point, and her voice trembled as she spoke to Tim, “I can’t; I can’t!! I’ve tried so hard, but I can’t hold it any longer! I’ve got to let it out –now – now . Even if you’re not through with me, please, I’ve got to do it now, NOW!!”
Quickly he gave her the pitcher. She tried to hold it under herself, while bending only slightly. Suddenly, a burst of urine came out of her, spraying in an arc, pouring into the pitcher. She held the pitcher, sobbing, with tears in her eyes. While the stream continued to pour out of her, she lowered her voice and said to Tim, “I guess I’ve lost it– and I did so want to be your Mermaid Mom! I thought I could force myself to hold it!”
When she finished, Tim noted she had urinated almost 1400ml! Almost a quart and a half, out of a lady on the shady side of fifty! He wondered how many other women would be able to do this, with or without the tears.
He tried to comfort her. She had really done exceedingly well with the bladder test, and the only real problem he could see was that her breasts were too small and too firm. It would not be any easy decision.
After she left, being told they would call her shortly. He and Lucy held a conference.
“Lucy, Eileen was great, even with the tears and all. She clearly could hold it, but her figure is going to disappoint Russell. He wants flabbier breasts that swing a bit. Martha has them, but I’m not sure Martha’s bladder is equal to it. What think you?”
“If we could get Martha to do another test, I’d say go with her. But I really hate to disappoint Eileen – she really put herself through torture, really gave it a try!”
After some consideration, Tim found himself talking to Martha Lewis on the telephone. “Martha, he began, you’ve really got the best figure for this, and I’d like to use you, but I just need to be sure your bladder has the endurance we need. I know you said you could hold it longer, but I can’t take a chance. In the scene, you’ll have to consume as many drinks as you are asked, and you’ll probably have to go fifteen hours without a pee. The young women we’ve selected have all managed to hold a quart, or almost a quart; and you only did two thirds of that.”
“Tim”, Martha broke in, “I know I can hold it – I know I can. It’s going to hurt, I know, but I can endure the pain. Is there any way I can convince you?”
“Yes, Martha, there is. A demonstration. That’s the only fair way to do it. Come into my office this afternoon with a least a liter in your bladder and I’ll use you for the job. “
“What time to do you want me?”
“How long will it take you to fill up?”
“How about three o’clock?”
“OK – I’ll be there! Filled up!”
Tim and Lucy awaited their model applicant, wondering if indeed she would succeed.
They underestimated Martha Lewis.
At one o’clock, Martha was at the office of Dr. Martin Phillips, a local GP. She was there addressing an old friend, Jerri Matheson, the office nurse of Dr. Phillips. Jerri knew Martha as an occasional patient of her employer, and as a personal friend of many years.
Martha was making a request. “Jerri, I need you help! I’ve got a modeling job coming up, and I need to qualify for it this afternoon. You can help me. I know you’ve done catheterizations in the office. Can you catheterise me?”
Jerri stared at Martha with a bit of shock. “What on earth for? Have you got a urinary blockage of some kind? You need to see the doctor, and he’s not in today–”
“Look here, Jerri, I haven’t got a lot of time. No, I don’t have a blockage. It would probably help a bit if I did. But my bladder control may not be good enough for me to get this job! I want you to put a catheter into me, not to empty my bladder but to fill it up! Can you do it?”
Jerri, completely baffled, sat down and just stared at Martha, who continued. “See, they need a model my age and shape, but the job is going to require me to get into a costume I can’t get out of for probably fifteen hours, and I can’t urinate while I’m in it, but I’ll have to drink a lot of liquid while I’m wearing it. So I’ve got to hold my water for fifteen hours including all I have to drink. So they will only take a woman who can demonstrate that she can hold about a liter, or a quart, in her bladder. I tried, and made about two thirds of a liter. I think I could hold a full liter, but I’ve got to get it in me, and I’ve no way of knowing how much is in me. Bladders don’t come with gauges. But you could stick in a catheter, and fill my bladder up to a full liter; then, all I have to do is manage to hold it long enough to go over to the agency, and I’ll be able to urinate a full liter, which will demonstrate my capacity. Won’t you do it for me?”
Jerri was shaking her head, confused. “Martha, how can you be sure your bladder will hold a liter? That a lot for a human bladder! I could probably put it in, if I do it slowly, and stretch your bladder, but it’s going to be awfully painful, and I can’t give you any painkiller or anesthetic. Then when I do take the catheter out, you’ll have to hold it by yourself, and you may not be able to. I’m telling you, that much is going to stretch your bladder to its limits, and it’s going to be very painful for you! And, even if you do manage to hold it, what I’m going to put in is clear water. If anyone checks you when you urinate, they’re going to see that it’s clear, and they will know it won’t be natural!”
“I thought of that. Could you put a drop of this in?” She produced from her purse a tiny bottle f yellow food coloring. “It’s edible, it’s non–toxic, and if you use it in the water you put it it will turn it yellow. It will look natural. No one will question it!”
Jerri shrugged her shoulders, muttered something under her breath, and looked in her supply cabinet.
“You get in the first examining room”, she said, and undress. I’ll get a catheter. But I’ve got to drain your bladder first, or do you just want to urinate first and assure me it’s empty? If you don’t, there’s a chance I will overfill it! And you had better not ever bring this up to the doctor!”
Martha smiled at her victory. She made a quick trip to the ladies room, while Jerri got ready. Shortly, Martha was on the table of the examination room, with a catheter being carefully inserted into her urethra.
Jerri hooked up a tube to the catheter, and measured out a liter of water, adding a drop of the yellow color. She hooked up the bag to the tube, and let the water flow into Martha’s bladder. As the bag emptied, Jerri held it higher and squeezed it slightly to apply pressure. Martha lay on the table, her bladder gradually distending. More and more water was forced into her. Jerri called out, “You’re up to 600ml– how do you feel?” “Awfully bad – like I need to pee something awful! But keep going!”
Jerri continued the flow of water. Soon there was only 200ml left in the bag. “Martha – you sure you want me to do this? you’ve got 800 in you!” . Martha lay still, her fists clenched, her face contorted, her determination undeterred. “More – more, fast as you can!”
“Martha, I’ve got to do it slowly, so you get stretched a little at a time. I can’t do it fast. Anyway, after I get it all in, it’s going to be up to you to hold it!”
Jerri called the count at 900, then 950. Martha was clearly suffering. Tears streamed from her eyes. The pain was intense. Still the water flowed in. Finally Jerri announced, “All right, you’ve got a liter in you. Now let me deflate the catheter balloon and take it out. You better get your muscles ready to do some strong holding!”
A couple of minutes later, Martha was sitting up, adjusting her clothes. She was almost in a daze. The pressure inside her was strong, and her whole bottom half seemed wracked with pain. She felt swollen and extremely uncomfortable.
Somehow she managed to get from the doctor’s office to Tim’s location, a couple of blocks away.
She arrived ahead of her appointment time, but Tim and Lucy were waiting. Martha told them, “I’m here, it’s maybe a bit early, but I’m ready. I think I can prove to you I can do it!”
Lucy asked her to remove her clothes and hang them up, while Tim went for the pitcher. In a minute or two, she was naked before them, her badly swollen bladder protruding from her abdomen like a grapefruit. Her pubic hair was untrimmed, thick and dark. Suddenly she was embarrassed that her bush was showing; but she took the pitcher, and placed it in position. Her stream began to flow.
Both of them watched, astonished at the force of her stream and the quantity she discharged. It passed her 650 mark easily and the level continued to climb. It even passed 1,000; going to about 1,100. Then she stopped.
They congratulated her. She had done what she had promised. She was going to be their Mermaid Mom.
CHAPTER 4 To The Location
Thursday was spent insuring the mermaid models are had their final preparation instructions. They were to watch carefully their diets and fluid intake on Thursday, so as to minimize the possibilities of bladder or bowel problems Friday. They were advised to fast if they could, or eat only low–residue foods Thursday, and keep their liquid intake as low as reasonably possible. Friday they were to be at the studio at six A.M., ready for work. All they needed to bring was themselves, as the studio would provide dressers and make–up staff to prepare them.
Tim was at the studio Friday, to check in the models as they arrived. He met Marc Abramson, the Director, who would be in charge of the shooting. Marc was a brusque man with a lack of patience and an artistic temperament. He was dressed casually, wore his black hair at shoulder length, and carried sunglasses in his pocket. He spoke quickly to Tim. “The mermaid models are not my prime responsibility; my main interest is in the actors and the action. The girls just have to sit there. They have to do a little drinking, but other than that all I expect is that they sit in position and look pretty. I hope they’re not bashful – I need to have a lot of breast display. I’ll position them so their tops show up properly, but after I position them, it’s your responsibility to see that they stay there and don’t give us any trouble. I don’t want to hear that they have any problems, so you take care of them. Got it?” He didn’t wait for a reply, but went off quickly.
Tim checked his arriving mermaids. As soon as one was ready to be dressed, she was told to use the bathroom (her last chance for many hours), then to step behind a curtain which screened the dressing area, where she was to remove and leave all of her clothing. She was then to present herself, naked, to the two dressers, one male and one female, who put the girls into the mermaid costumes.
To do this, she was required to lie on a low table, where her legs were loosely bound at the knees and ankles with a strong but soft cord, which was then tied securely. This allowed her to move her legs a little, but not to separate them more than an inch or two. A soft cloth was slipped between her inner thighs to prevent chafing. Next, she was rolled on her side while the back half of the formed tail costume was fitted to her. Then the front half was installed, and the two parts fastened together securely. The elastic top was then slipped up over her feet (now tail), and adjusted to her waist. The tail costume was then checked and a type of putty used to close the seams and any fasteners showing. She was then carefully lifted into a sitting, but reclining position on a low chair, where the make–up persons went to work on her hair, face, and body grooming.
When each model was finished, she was inspected by the Mark, the director, and then allowed to hold a towel over her breasts while she was carried by two men into a large van waiting outside.
The process of preparing the girls went on schedule, and about a quarter to seven it was announced that they were ready to go. The six models, Paula, Renee, Jeanne, Inez, Susan, and Mermaid “Mom” Martha, were laid on seats in the van. The women were talkative as they prepared to depart, and this was really the first time they had to meet as a group. The favorite topic was the “hold it” ability they had to demonstrate, and which they knew would be crucially tested today. But at this point they were all made up, their legs were not yet tired, and their bladders were empty, so they could joke about it. They did appear a helpless lot, though, because they could not walk or move their lower bodies more than a very slight amount. The costumes looked fishy and flexible, but were in fact quite stiff, and they had been told to keep their legs as straight as possible to keep the costumes intact.
What became a convoy of five vehicles left from the studio, carrying the mermaids, the actors, camera staff, and the rest of the crew. Time rode with the models, with the male make–up specialist, there to do any field repairs required.
It was indeed a long ride. They were unsure of the route, and ran into traffic and a short detour. It was becoming a warm day, and the make–up man broke out cold soft drinks and passed them around. The mermaids, saying things about “living dangerously” or other bits of humor, accepted the drinks but drank them slowly.
It was well past nine when they arrived on the site, which involved a group of large rocks situated on the coastline, with the waves gently washing the lower areas but leaving the higher parts dry. Some time was consumed as the director chose the exact positioning of the mermaids. Then, one at a time, they were carried out of the van and put in place on the rocks. They were relieved of their towels, and their placing was carefully reviewed. Mark critically examined the placing of each mermaid, with special care that each had her breasts prominently exposed and free from any shadows.
As he worked with Martha, he considered what pose to use. “What’s your name?” he asked of her at first. “ “Martha,” she answered warmly. “OK, Martha, you’re supposed to be the senior member of the clan. I need to be sure your hair shows clearly, so the gray comes through. Also, your top needs some special consideration. The other breasts are all high and firm, so they’re not expected to move much. Yours need to show their, well, flexibility. I want you to twist back and forth several times, so I can see how much your jugs flop around. Try it!” Martha, a bit embarrassed by the request, nonetheless complied.
Mark gave her several tries, the instructed her, “When the camera’s on you, I want to see those things swing and jiggle. So let ‘em hang loose – don’t try to keep them still. Understand?” Martha nodded.
With all of the preparations that seemed necessary, it was eleven before the actual shooting began. In the heat of the midday, the girls were beginning to complain that their legs were hot, and some were a bit concerned about the effects of the sun on their exposed tops. These were calmed, though, and the work went on.
Tim asked them, between takes, how they were holding up. Martha replied clearly, “I’m fine – don’t worry about me. My only real concern right now is the sunburn I’m going to get on what Mark calls ‘my jugs’. They’re not used to this much exposure!”
Jeanne was a touch less carefree. “Well,” she said, “it would be nice if I had a bathroom built into this suit. I could use a good pee. But I’m OK – I’ll last!”
Inez was “A little chilly! What with no shirt and all this breeze!”
Renee just smiled and said, “No problems. Carry on!”
The dressers and make up staff served as caterers for the group, and at times kept the group supplied with cold drinks and a few sandwiches. Many of the men were heavy drinkers of the sodas, but of the mermaids, only Renee seemed to want to imbibe deeply. The others avoided the drinks, or sipped them slowly when offered.
The staff worked diligently, and there were few breaks. The drinking scene was shot early in the activities, and for it each model was provided a champagne glass, served in the scene by the main actor. In actuality, a few times he give them the glasses, but for most of the shoots they were provided the glasses by one of the crew. The glasses were actually filled with ginger ale, which was the simulated champagne.
Mark was insistent that the drinking be real, for many close–ups were being taken. He explained that after the initial serving, the mermaids were to look as though they were delighted with the drinks, and were to look like they were enthusiastically downing glass after glass.
The director wanted both long shots and close–ups of the mermaids drinking the “champagne”, and of the actor serving it, so many glasses were filled and refilled. as the day grew on, Tim was a bit concerned about how much the girls were having to drink. Quietly, he asked the “caterer” how much they had used. Cliff, the make–up man dispensing the ginger ale, admitted he was worried. “We’ve already run through eight liters, and no one’s getting it but the mermaids,” he commented. “He’s doing an awful lot of shoots. I hope he gets through, soon – I brought a dozen bottles, and we’ve only got four left. If he needs more than that, we’ll have to try using the stuff from the soft drink cans; I don’t know where I could get any more around here! I’m getting worried – I never know when this guy is going to be satisfied!”
Tim did a bit of mental calculation. It was now nearly two in the afternoon, and the girls had been in the costumes eight hours. Eight liter bottles, spread among six mermaids, averaged out to well over a liter for each. His average mermaid had been drinking the stuff over the last two hours, now adding up to over a liter each, not counting the other drinks they had had earlier, and he knew none of them had urinated since six in the morning. They must all have very full bladders by now. Nonetheless, the director showed no signs of nearing completion. They had actually been shooting only three hours; the schedule called for six.
Tim shared his concerns with Cliff. “You know, I’m not worried about running out of the stuff, I’m much more concerned about another problem. Over a full liter has gone into each of those girls, and not a one of them has had a bathroom break for eight hours. How do you suppose they feel?”
“Glad I’m not them”, was the response.
Mark approached the mermaids, saying, “Look, ladies, you can’t get tired now. Keep those smiles up! You’re supposed to be having a great time! Let’s see some enthusiasm!” Turning to Tim, he commented, “Gosh it’s hard to keep them in the mood! You’d think they would enjoy all this time lying on the shore and just feeling the breeze. It can’t be too cold for them. They must tire easily!”
Tim answered, calmly, “They’re probably getting full bladders. They haven’t had a bathroom break since six A. M., and they know they won’t be getting one”.
Mark was impatient. “Comes with the job. They’re supposed to be models. They should know how to stay put and pose!” With that he wandered off to the camera crew.
More takes were made. Mark was difficult to satisfy. Good thing the weather is holding, Tim thought. If we had a miserable day, Mark would be impossible to live with.
As three o’clock approached, Tim took a can of drink from Cliff. As he opened it, Cliff suddenly cried out, “Gee, look at that!” he pointed to the mermaids, in between shoots, all six of them noisily calling and jeering at one of the camera crew. Tim rushed over to see what the commotion was about. It told him a lot about how the mermaids were feeling.
The camera crews had also had a long day, and no bathrooms were around. A lot of soft drinks had been consumed. Usually the men would slip away behind a rock or a truck to relieve themselves, but one cameraman was apparently held to his post by some compelling duty, and had turned aside, in full view of the girls, opened his pants and started peeing.
The girls had a right to be offended by his exposure, Tim surmised, but as he approached he realized that it was not the exposure they were screaming about. It was simply his insensitivity in doing in front of them something all of them desperately wanted to do, but could not.
“Do it for me, too!” yelled Susan.
“And me! Twice for me!” screamed Inez..
Renee added her noisy observation, “Men are weaklings! Women have to hold it! Men can’t!”
“You ought to be one of us” thundered Paula.
“You ought to have to do what we have to” Jeanne yelled. “Men! Insensitive pigs!”
Only Martha, eldest of the group, seemed to be quiet.
Their rage told Tim what he feared; their endurance was being sorely tested. With hours to go!
After the cameraman returned to his usual duties and calm was restored. Tim walked over to the mermaids during a break in the shooting. He told them, “I think the drinking scene is finished – at least I hope. They’re running out of ginger ale, anyway. Hey, I know this is rough for you; that’s we tested you. How are you doing?” He checked each of the models, starting with Martha.
Martha was feeling miserable. Inwardly, she was having second thoughts about the wisdom of her trick to get the assignment. To Tim, she could say only “I’m holding on – just wish I had a few more muscles to hold with. I wish they could have built relief valves or maybe diapers into these suits! I hope I don’t have to drink another glass – I think I got more than anyone else with all those shoots of him trying to get ‘Mama Mermaid’ drunk.” She looked down at her breasts. “I didn’t really think he’d be impressed by these, but he’s made me flop them around a lot. Right now I wish they were tanks to store ginger ale!”
Jeanne was specific. “I forgot to bring my spare bladder. The one I’m using filled up a couple of hours ago. Man, you don’t know how stretched it is. It hurts; and it’s going to get worse!”
Inez just shook her head. She made a face, and pointed to her abdominal area with a finger.
Renee was smiling. Tim remembered her capabilities. She quietly told him, “I’m putting a good face on it, but its getting to hurt. I think I can handle it, but I’m worried about these other girls who aren’t as stretchable as I am. Especially Martha over there. I think she’s really in deep pain.”
Paula was resolute. “I’m trying. I don’t know if it can hold it till we finish, but I’m trying!”
Tim was hoping they could get through it. He heard Mark say something about having enough takes of the drinking, and to be sure they had the champagne glasses out of sight.
Cliff came around again with drinks. He got takers from the camera crew, but only jeers from the mermaids.
“Do you take returns?” Jeanne called to him, “I’ve got a gallon or two I’d like to give you back!”
Even the director was concerned. To Tim Marc asked, “Are they OK? We said six hours, you know. Some of them seem to have doubts. I assume you told them what they had to do?”
“Oh, they know all right. But there are human limitations. They will reach limits. We need to get through as fast as possible. “
“I want you to apologize to them on my behalf, for that clod of a cameraman. He should have known better than to expose himself like that in front of six women! I told him if ever tries that again, he’s through!”
“You know,” Tim tried to tell him, “they weren’t as upset about him exposing himself as they were about what he was doing. He was really rubbing it in! Making a point of relieving himself, when none of them are able to! Every one of those girls out there probably had a much fuller bladder than he had, and none of them is allowed any relief at all! That’s what got them upset!”
Mark was a bit exasperated. “All afternoon you’ve been telling me about female bladder problems! Tell them to hold it! That’s what they’re being paid for! I don’t want to hear any more about it!” With that he charged off again.
Tim could do nothing but shrug. He was keeping his fingers crossed that the models could finish the shoot. It was getting harder and harder to keep them smiling for the camera. Off camera, between takes, they were beginning to show contorted faces and clenched fists, with obviously fidgeting of arms and even legs, under the tail costumes. A couple of times Mark had called to them to keep the tails still, because of the twitching motions of their bound legs.
3:45 P. M. A take was in process, scanning the mermaids. They were five hours into the six hour shooting schedule. Suddenly, with cameras running, a cry came from Jeanne. She was sobbing, screaming “I can’t – I just can’t!”, tears running down her quite unsmiling face. All eyes fell on her. The whole front of her tail was quivering, the outer surface moving rapidly. Then pieces came off. It was starting to deteriorate. Fragments dropped, then a large piece fell off and a large gush of liquid poured out, washing away more fragments. Parts of her bound legs came into view, and liquid was soaking her legs and what was left of the costume. Make–up was being washed off.
It was obvious that Jeanne had lost control of her bladder, and its contents were now washing away her paper tail and the carefully applied make–up that faired it to her body. She looked a mess, and continued her sobs and tears.
Mark was neither sympathetic nor amused. “Get her out of there! Clean up that rock!” His exclamations was punctuated by a series of obscenities, after which he yelled to the girls, “The rest of you better be able to keep control of yourselves! We have to go on now with five of you! I hope the rest of you can do better! There had better not be another problem like this!”
He fumed at Tim, “You were supposed to provide models who could stay in character for six hours!” He walked off, cursing and fuming.
Jeanne was carried away from the rock, her urine dripping from her legs and what was left of her costume. The men peeled off the remnants of the tail, and cut her legs free, then left her beside the van that had brought them in. At this point Jeanne was naked, standing beside the van, in tears, her eyes hidden by her hands. She didn’t seem as concerned by her nakedness as much as she was embarrassed at her failure and the humiliating spectacle she had provided.
Tim went to her and tried to comfort her. She looked up at him, and muttered, “I’m sorry! I should have been able to do it! I just couldn’t hold it in any longer! When I started to leak, I couldn’t stop it until the tail got soaked and started to fall apart. By the time I got it stopped, it was too late. I ‘m sorry!”
Tim tried to give her some words of comfort, but she wasn’t really listening. She cut him off, “I still ache down there! I did get it stopped, but, I might as well finish, it doesn’t matter, now!” With that, she sank to a squat, and poured out a forceful jet from her bladder onto the ground. It continued for half a minute or so, then trailed off, leaving a large puddle on the ground in front of her. She turned, still sobbing softly, and climbed into the van, taking a seat by herself. There were no clothes for her. She didn’t care any more. She lay on the seat, naked, alone, in tears.
The remaining five mermaids were clearing showing their agony, except perhaps for Renee, who seemed to be able to cover up her needs best of all. Mark was disgusted with them, but went on with his remaining takes, using the five that were left.
Tim wondered who would be next to lose control. What was being required of them was well beyond what he had expected. The drinking scene had been shot early in the sequence, and had resulted in their consuming a lot more than he had expected; but, worse, they had to consume it earlier which meant holding it longer. He hoped they were near the end.
Inez was the next to show signs of failure. At the end of a take, she called out, “that’s got to be the last for me – if I have to wait any longer, I’m going to lose it just like Jeanne did!” Paula was nodding in agreement. Martha was shaking her head, her face contorted, her breasts quivering.
The time was about 4:20. They had now gone over ten hours without a bathroom break; less than the twelve Tim had expected, but with a much greater liquid intake than he had anticipated. How much longer could they last? One had already failed, and it looked like two more were right at the edge.
Tim pleaded with Mark for an end to the shooting. Mark was not ready. “I need about another hour to finish it; and I need the mermaids in position. I can do with these five, but….“his voice trailed off in thought. Suddenly he called his dressers together. “We got a problem. The one mermaid – that one,” he said, pointing to Inez, “is about to spring a leak. I’ve got to keep them together long enough to finish up, maybe another hour or so. The others seem to be hanging in there, but this one’s a problem. Can you do some quick surgery on that costume, to empty her, then repair it so it’ll hold for an hour?”
The two had a quick discussion, then went over to Inez with a bag of their equipment.
The female dresser was sympathetic to Inez, “Kid, hold in there! They ‘re putting you through torture, and we’re going to try to help you relieve yourself. Interested?”
Inez gave her an enthusiastic affirmation. The woman positioned Inez on her side, then began feeling gently along the front of her costume. She took a small knife and a pair of scissors, and began to cut a small circular hole in the front, just below where she judged Inez’s crotch to be. Meanwhile, her helper called for two men to come over and help.
The woman felt carefully inside the costume, her hand touching Inez’s private areas and palpating her abdomen slightly. “Bob, you ought to feel this – bet you never ran into this before!”, she said to her colleague. At her request, his hand slipped up through the hole and felt upwards. Inez winced and squealed “No – not there – don’t push it!!”. He looked at the lady dresser, “She’s hard as a rock, and all swollen! No surprise she’s making such a fuss! Here, let me help..” his hand adjusted the edges of the hole, folding the paper material back a bit. Together, they looked through it, where her labia were exposed to the strong sunlight, and her pubic hair showed through. “Let’s try it now,” he said, “We need to lift her up and hold her face down, so nothing will fall into the tail; it’s got to all come out the hole.” The three men picked her up, one holding each arm, and one her feet, encased in the tail. They held her about at the level of their waists, her face ! down, her uncovered breasts hanging.
Bob bent down and crawled under her, holding a small spatula. He slipped it into the hole, trying to get in the space between her legs. It didn’t fit. “Use your hand, stupid, a little pee won’t hurt you” , his female colleague anxiously instructed him. He placed his hand with two fingers wedged between her legs, his palm facing the upper part of her body, ready to deflect her discharge from entering the tail. “Let go! Now!” they shouted at Inez.
Inez was a strange sight. Being held in a prone position, her naked breasts hanging below her, the men supporting her by her arms and feet, and a male hand slipped into the small hole cut around her crotch, she held her head up, bending it back. She looked like some kind of fish being dragged from the sea. She could feel Bob’s hand in its very intimate location, squeezed between her bound legs. Her muscles were clenched while she was suffering severe bladder cramps. She tried to release them. It took a bit of time.
Bob felt her urine splatter his hand. He tried to deflect it down, to clear the tail. A torrent of fluid poured out of her, falling to the ground below. Inez felt strange. Never had she had to urinate in such a strange posture, held by three men, with another man using his hand to deflect her stream, and while the whole crew watched. She was looking straight at the cameraman. Suddenly, she realized, he was filming her! She was tempted to scream a protest, but the cramps were subsiding and her pain was diminishing. She just felt too good to complain about anything.
They held her for several minutes while she urinated. When she was through, they put her down, and the dressers began to repair the damage to the costume, trying to recover the hole and mask the seams.
“Hey, how about us?” wailed Susan. Paula looked on with an eager face, almost whispering, “Could you do me, too, please?” Only Renee seemed indifferent. Martha looked on, a bit farther away. but said nothing.
Mark made a clear announcement. “We haven’t got time to do you all! We’re just trying to keep this one from being a basket case! Let’s get back to the shooting and we’ll get through, soon!”
They went on. Inez was now relaxed and smiling. The others were gritting their teeth and trying to hold on. Time ticked slowly.
Finally came the great moment. At a few minutes after five, it was announced that the camera work was over. The men were ordered to collect the girls and take them back to the van.
Inez, in no hurry, now, waited, relaxed.
Two men picked up Susan, and another two carried Paula. Renee awaited her turn.
Martha, the Mermaid Mom, was beyond waiting. As the first two mermaids were being taken to the van, Martha reached down and began to tear away the fishtail costume. She made short work out it, and somehow she worked the cord off her ankles. With her knees still corded together, she then worked herself to her feet, turning her side to the camera location. She bent over, standing with her ankles a foot apart but her knees still bound, her breasts swinging below her with every move, as she tried to free her knees. Finally she slipped the cord, and stood up, spreading her freed legs wide, and with full face to the camera released a great gush of urine. It poured out of her like a water hose, spraying and gushing, running down her legs. Prominently displayed was her thick black bush of untrimmed pubic hair. Ecstatic with release, she stood and raised her arms as if in a victory signal; displaying full frontal nudity to the entire crew, who simply stood and looked. Seeing! Tim, she cried out, “I knew I could do it! I told you I could! And I did, I DID!”
The display over, Martha made her way to the van in complete nudity, her legs wet with her urine, proudly twisting her frame and swinging her breasts as she went. “Last chance to see ‘em, guys!” she called out, this 56 year old lady with the graceful body and magnificent gray hair, showing herself off as if she was a teenager.
Back at the van, the crew cut away the costumes from Paula and Renee, leaving them naked, although they were quickly offered towels to cover themselves. Without waiting for a towel, Paula immediately found a spot near the van, squatted and urinated profusely.
Renee took a seat in the van and covered herself with a towel. She sat strangely quiet, not smiling, squirming just a bit, as the van started up for its return trip. About fifteen minutes into the trip, Paula looked at her intently for a moment, then asked her directly, “You still haven’t peed, have you? The only one of us who hasn’t! You trying to prove something?”
“Maybe”, Renee answered, softly. Then added, “I just want to see if I can last until we get back – maybe I can!”
While the trip continued, the women talked quietly among themselves, mostly exhausted from the long day. Renee got little attention, but her expression conveyed the pain she was feeling. Several times someone asked her if she wanted to make a stop, but always she shook her head.
An hour into the trip, Renee was rubbing her abdomen visibly, her teeth clenched, her body straining with all her might to keep her muscles tight. Suddenly, she called to to driver, “Please, make a quick stop. I’ve got to get out for a minute! Please– “
The other girls began to smirk a bit. Renee was finally having to give up. The driver stopped, and she moved quickly to the door, leaving behind her towel. With no attempt at modesty, she stood erect outside the van in he waning sunlight, spread her legs, placed her hands behind her neck, and spewed forth a gushing torrent of urine onto the ground in front of her. Everyone was watching.
After what seemed a minute or so, she turned to the van, observing that everyone was watching her, and announced, “So I didn’t make it – I came a darn site better than anyone else did! And I almost made it all the way back! I may not be the prettiest model in the lot, but no one else could hold it like I did!” Proudly, she threw her hair back as she finished her stream, then slipped back into the van and collapsed onto her seat. Two of the men applauded. The other women just looked at each other. One shrugged.
They returned to the temporary studio. It was now getting dark, and the day’s work was done. Six women, all wrapped in towels, walked back into the room where they had been dressed, and retrieved their clothes. Tim gave them all a warm thank–you for the work that day and the pain he knew they had all endured.
“All except Renee”, Inez was quick to add, “I think she loved it!”
Renee just smiled.
Martha dressed while Tim watched. “Have your last look – I think I’m getting a bit old for this. I wouldn’t want to go through it again. I’m past the point of having a body suitable for showing off..”, then stopped, hesitated, and thoughtfully added, “but even if it was one last fling, it was fun! Even if I almost failed the bladder test! You know, when it was over and I could peel off that costume, I was hurting so bad I didn’t care who saw me. If I hadn’t been so full and hurting so bad, I couldn’t have done it. I just had to get out of it and let everything go!”
“Martha”, Tim replied, “You were great! If you had been twenty, you couldn’t have put on a better show!” He extended his hand for a final congratulatory handshake.
Lucy, who met them on the return, looked to Tim. “Did it go OK?” she inquired, adding thoughtfully, “I’m sure glad I wasn’t one of the mermaids!”
“Great show, Lucy, great show. Even the Mermaid Mom – no., especially the Mermaid Mom. But let’s never do this again. OK? “
Francine