Enjoying a Pleasant Wee in the Enchantress' Tree

The house falls quiet. The awkward silence between you two is almost enough to make you forget about your aching bladder. Almost.

“I don’t understand,” you finally break the silence. “Our wee what?”

Zecora’s sheepish smile drops to an unamused frown. “Our wee.”

“Our…” Your eyes open wide. “Oh. That wee.”

Seeing the realization in your eyes, Zecora smiles again and trots off to a cabinet, leaving you standing with your eyes wide and mouth agape. It’s not until you hear the cabinet doors open that you remember how to speak again.

“You know, Zecora, I never took you as a pony who was good at telling jokes. You almost had me there for a minute.” You chuckle slightly as you turn around to face her. Your bladder’s contents swish during your about-face, making you wince and squeeze your legs again.

“I do not speak with my tongue in my cheek. Ponyville depends on how we spring a leak. Our urine will bring the ingredients together, and save everypony feeling under the weather.” Though her head is buried in the cabinet, Zecora’s rhymes come in clearly. Her backside remains turned to you as she rummages through the cabinet. It would have been a normal, not entirely unpleasant sight if not for one small detail.

Instead of being spread apart to give her balance, her hindlegs are twisted together and lightly rubbing each other, with her tail tightly tucked between them. If you didn’t know any better, she looked just like she needed to…

Your eyes open wide for the second time today. Well, she did say the antidote needed “Our wee.”

And just like one uncontrollable spurt leading to another, the realizations keep hitting you. If this potion truly required both your and her urine, then it can’t be coincidence that you would both need to go right when it came time to add that ingredient. Your mind instantly conjures the memory of you and her enjoying that drink. Given how adamant she was on only letting you have one cup, there was no way that drink’s only purpose was to wash down a horrible taste.

“Zecora…” you try to speak. There are so many questions running through your head, it is hard to decide which one to start with.

Perhaps it should be about what Zecora is doing now. While you were thinking, she had emerged from the cabinet with what appeared to be a wide box of sorts. She pushes it along the ground with her head until it is right next to the cauldron. With that sorted out, she lifts her head towards yours.

“There are many things on this potion I could explain.” Zecora tilts her head and looks at your legs. “But I think you would rather be relieved of your pain.”

You bite your lower lip as you consider her words. She has a point; you’ve been holding this long enough that it’s starting to hurt, both from the chafing of your legs rubbing together and the pressure that rests between them.

The finer details can wait. Your bladder can’t.

“Okay, so how do we this? Do we just whizz in a jar and pour that in?” You give another sheepish grin. “I hope you have a big enough jar for that.”

Your hope disappears upon seeing Zecora shake her head and nod towards the box on the ground. “The urine must come straight from the bladder, or else all our work will not have mattered. While one of us stands and gives nature her answer, the other must take the opposite side and stir.”

“Wait, we’re going into the potion itself while the other one stirs? But then that means…” You feel your pupils shrink and your cheeks go red. Now there’s a sight you didn’t plan on seeing or showing anytime soon.

“I understand your wish not to show me that sight. You are not the only one feeling stage fright.” Despite the determination in her eyes, Zecora’s voice is more tender than normal, and her cheeks grow a deeper shade of pink. “But we cannot be shy to cure this disease. We must stand our ground, swallow our pride, and pee.”

You gulp. As embarrassing as it sounds, Zecora is right. It would require someone far more heartless than you to leave an entire town bedridden and covered in spots because you were bladder-shy.

You muster a weak smile and say, “I’ll do it, for Ponyville’s sake.”

Returning the smile, Zecora shuffles around to the other side of the cauldron. “Then prop yourself up, and do not delay. We must let it go soon to save the day.”

“Wait, don’t you want to go first?” you ask.

“I can hold mine in for a little bit longer,” she says, the cauldron’s ladle already in her hoof. “Now go. Our bladders will not get any stronger.”

The sudden harsh tone of her words makes you jump back a little. This has the unfortunate side-effect of forcing another wave of pressure to hit your bladder, the toughest one thus far. Your legs lock together instinctively. Every fiber of your being goes into keeping yourself from having an accident.

It works, but just barely. Another wave like that, and you would certainly lose it at a force strong enough to rocket you into the air. Awkwardness be damned, you need to pee now.

As quickly and carefully as you can manage, you climb onto the box and prop yourself up on your rear hooves. Your forehooves rest on the cauldron’s lip, helping you keep your balance.

Also resting on the cauldron is a certain external organ of yours. An organ that has two primary functions, and Zecora is about to bear witness to one of those functions in action.

You keep your head pointed down at the cauldron, its reflection disturbed by the ladle’s entry. Zecora’s reflection gives you a light nod. It’s now or never.

For a moment, everything comes to a stop. The air hangs thick. Your breath is firmly lodged in your throat. Not a noise is uttered anywhere. The entire world fades out of your view, leaving only Zecora, the cauldron, and you.

And then you pee.

It’s a tiny dribble at first. The liquid, more yellow than clear, peters out as if gravity was doing the work rather than your bladder muscles. The drops disperse upon hitting the water, adding a small discoloration to the murky surface where they landed. The faint noise of tinkle hits your ears and Zecora’s, for better or for worse.

Your cheeks grow pink. It’s happening, whether you were okay with it or not. You are urinating freely in front of your crush. Your penis is in full view, a very noticeable pink poking out of the edge of the sheath, with pee freely being expelled from the opening at the tip. You can only hope she’s giving you some shred of privacy by not looking while she stirs the pot.

Before you can contemplate your position any further, you feel the flow picking up. It was inevitable; your overfilled bladder had a taste of release, and it only wanted more. The dribbling grows into a full stream and the arc picks up, hitting the water farther away. The yellow discoloration swirls about as Zecora stirs the brew. The noise your tinkle makes is now not so different from peeing into a toilet. An oversized toilet in the middle of a house with no way to flush, but a toilet nonetheless.

A light whimper escapes your throat. This whimper stems from two separate but connected reasons. The first is that you are slowly but surely getting the relief you have needed for so long. You can already feel your body growing less tense with each passing second. Your mind, however, remains as tense as ever because of the second reason.

You are running out of peeing room in the cauldron.

Already, your stream is nearing the opposite edge, and Zecora is adjusting her stirring. Unfortunately, you still have a ways to go before you are going at full blast. Holding yourself back is not an option; the relief hitting you has a nasty side-effect of making your bladder muscles mostly uncooperative. Your member is already resting on the lip as well, which means lowering your aim is also not a viable option.

At this rate, you’re about to do the one thing worse than wetting yourself in Zecora’s house: Getting Zecora wet in her own house, and not the good kind of wet. Pissing away the cure to a nasty plague would rank a distant second.

“Control yourself!” Again, Zecora doesn’t bother with a rhyme. Even she’s aware of your and her current predicament. Her sudden command is enough to scare your stream back, reducing it to a smaller trickle that lands at the center of the brew.

An idea to save your hide and Zecora’s coat suddenly hits you. If you can’t aim any lower…

Taking advantage of your weaker stream, you grab your member with a forehoof and point it almost straight up. For just a second, you can see the stream hitting only half as far as it was after Zecora’s command. It doesn’t take long for your bladder to shake it off, and soon the stream is picking up again. This time, however, it gains in distance at a much shorter rate. It would take a gargantuan amount of pressure to get any on Zecora now, or at least way more than you can muster.

With your aim secured, you feel the last control you have over your muscles give out. Giving one final sigh, you let go the last of your inhibitions and fully relax your bladder.

The effect is instant. Your stream rockets up into the air. It arcs high above the cauldron before coming down close to the center, already broken into several drops. The room fills with the sound of your tinkling and the swishing from the ladle stirring the pot. The acrid stench of your waste wafts into your nostrils, making your snout twitch.

Somewhere inside you is a part of you that feels embarrassed at the situation. Who wouldn’t feel awkward about having to give their significant other an up-close and personal view of their business as they handle it, let alone letting it fly high in the air and into a potion?

The answer is you. Your embarrassment stems not from the circumstances of this pee, but how much you’re enjoying it. Not even your most pleasant morning pees gave you this much reward.

A low moan reverberates in your throat, your tail happily swishes from side to side, your eyes close in bliss, and the ends of your lips curl into a goofy grin, all in response to the pressure between your loins finally able to release, leaving behind a tingling sensation that is subtly different and not entirely unpleasant.

There’s no denying it: you have made the transition from merely peeing to relieving yourself.

As you let the pleasure go through your body, you feel an irresistible urge to sneak a peek at your stream. You blame it on your inner stallion, always wanting to enjoy his accomplishments no matter how gross. Letting one eye open halfway, you take a glance down.

You almost shut your eye right away upon what you see.

Zecora is staring at you. Her eyes are wide as saucers, yet she seems to have a tunnel vision directed right at your groin. They flicker up every once in a while to eye the stream, but she still maintains a hawk’s level of scrutiny on your package. A hint of pink graces her cheeks while she stares, and her head is leaned far enough in for you to worry about giving her a noseful of pee. Thankfully, she still has to stir and keep her balance, so you doubt your accidental shower of piss will come to pass.

Your first instinct of seeing her watching you was to yell or ask her to look away. No matter how hard you tried, however, you couldn’t force yourself to follow it. Maybe you were just enjoying your wee too much to do anything else. Maybe you couldn’t really stop Zecora from looking if she really wanted to.

Maybe you wanted her to watch.

Instead of telling her not to look, you grin a little to yourself and let the scene go undisturbed. After all, Zecora may need to look anyway, if only to make sure the potion’s coming along. Besides, if she is genuinely enjoying the show, who are you to stop her?

Even at full blast, your pee goes on forever. At least, that’s how it feels to you. Whatever Zecora put in that drink certainly did its job. You shudder to think what would’ve happened had you downed another cup.

Finally, you reach the downhill portion of your potty time. Your stream takes its sweet time while it gradually drops in height and pressure. You let go of your member and let gravity handle the remaining urine inside you. One last squirt and a couple shakes later, and you’re fully relieved.

“That feels better,” you say following a deep sigh. Opening your eyes, you glance down to Zecora. As if a spell had broken, Zecora snaps out of her tunnel vision. Her eyes grow a little wider, and her hindlegs lightly bounce in place. Maybe she just remembered how badly she needed a wee herself?

“A-heh-heh, your turn.” You quickly lower yourself onto the ground, putting your naughty bits out of view.

“Then let us hurry before we face the worst. Your performance has made me about to burst.” Zecora whimpers and bits her lower lip as she finishes her rhyme. If not for the urgency of the situation, you would have found that look to be a little cute.

Instead, you quickly walk over to the other side of the cauldron and take the ladle off her hooves. While you get yourself into position, Zecora shuffles over to the box, her hind-legs firmly squeezed together.

Just as you get yourself settled in, Zecora climbs onto the box and turns around. Her hindlegs spread apart, her backside backs into the cauldron’s lip, and her tail lifts up to the ceiling.

And that’s when you see it. Well, not for the first time; you had caught glimpses of it whenever she walked in front of you at the market. Still, it was always at an angle, and quickly covered by her swaying tail. She never exactly gave you a full frontal view with nothing obstructing it, in any case.

Zecora was a full-grown mare, and it certainly showed in her naughty place. The lips were fully bloomed, leaving her openings and clitoris for the whole world to see if she wished. She looked after this part of her quite well, as shown by how clean both her slit and anus appeared. If she has had any ex-coltfriends in the past, they are surely missing out.

The friend part of you wants to look away, shut your eyes, or otherwise do something to grant Zecora some form of privacy. However, the part of you that’s a stallion can’t help but admire what she has to show. You could scarcely imagine a more alluring sight than this.

And then she pees.

Unlike you, there is no slow buildup to Zecora’s release. It sputters out of her opening at first, but then skips the gradual build and shoots out at a high pressure. Her pee lands as a solid stream into the potion, filling the room with the lewd noise of piddle. The potion bubbles at the center of the pee, its color turning a deeper shade of yellow.

The tinkling was not the only audible sound in the room, either. You consider folding your ears down out of respect upon hearing a certain hissing sound emanating from a very specific region of Zecora’s. This hiss only grows louder as she adjusts her stance and increases her flow to full force. It’s not always easy to be a mare, you suppose.

It’s a sight that isn’t easy on the eyes. Zecora’s nether region flexes with every little motion she makes. Pee shoots out of the small opening near the bottom of her bottom like a faucet was turned on at full blast. Her peehole hisses more than a train engine letting out steam. The scent of urine has gone from wafting into your nostrils to forcing its way up them.

If you had walked in on Zecora doing this on any other day, you would immediately look the other way and try in vain to not have the image burned into your brain. Now, she could not be any more in your face with this sight without getting you wet.

So why can’t you look away now?

As weird, gross, icky, and a bunch of other negative words this image should be (it’s piss, for crying out loud), you can’t help but find the whole picture mesmerizing. What was that phrase again? “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”? Well, maybe not the be-holder in this case, but still.

“Oh, mungu wa kike…”

Zecora’s mumbling is enough to pull your attention away from her backside. Her head is turned to the side, and her eyes are shut. A bright pink spot adorns her cheeks while she mumbles in what you assume is her native language. It didn’t take an expert in body language to see that, against her sense of modesty, she was enjoying her pee as much as you had enjoyed yours.

You couldn’t blame her; she was on the verge of having an accident mere seconds ago. You of all ponies knew that a sense of relief too big to ignore hitting her entire body was sure to follow.

Still, her display of relief allows you to see the big picture of her show. Before, it was just a mare peeing. Now, it was Zecora, mystical enchantress of the Everfree Forest, relieving herself in front of you and showing a rare display of her in a vulnerable and, dare you say it, intimate state. It’s enough to cause a certain intimate portion of your own to stir up…

Speaking of which, shouldn’t something else be stirring as well?

It’s only now do you realize you had been shirking your important duty of stirring the potion while Zecora adds the important ingredient. You get right to it, mimicking the circular motion she had made as best as you can.

Despite your appointed task of stirring, your eyes remain firmly focused on the mare before you. You suppose you’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough, but at least it will be worth it… probably.

Some time passes, and Zecora’s tinkling eventually begins its decline. The hissing and tinkling noises fade away, followed by a gradual drop in the pressure and angle of her pee. The stream dies away to nothing, squirts out a few last drips, and then is finished.

“Bora zadi,” you hear Zecora speak in a hushed voice upon finishing her pee. Out of the corner of your vision, you see Zecora’s eyes open, giving you a split second to avert your own to a random part of the house.

“Well, uh…” you feel compelled to say something, but find yourself at a loss of words. The only thing you can think of is, “Do you, uh, need anything to wipe with?”

Against your better judgment, you return your glance to Zecora, only to immediately divert it upon seeing that her tail is still raised high skyward. You aren’t sure what compels you, but you quickly add, “Um, do you need me to grab something for you to wipe with?”

Zecora giggles lightly, a heavenly sound. “I appreciate your concern to prevent a drip, but I have my own way to give them the slip.”

“You do?” Just like before, your curiosity overpowers your judgment, and your eyes drift back to Zecora’s intimately-positioned backside.

Zecora doesn’t explain her technique. She shows it to you.

While she looks straight at the wall in front of her, she rocks her rump back and forth. Drops of wee flick out of her nethers and into the brew below. Like a cheap magician dangling a medallion, you can’t look away from her hypnotic swaying. And just when you thought the show was over…

Another dozen shakes or so later, and Zecora’s tail falls down to cover herself. All good things come to an end, you suppose.

“So…” you rub the back of your head while she steps down from the box. “Do we finally have a cure for the pox?”

“There is nothing more to add, if that’s what you inquire,” says Zecora as she trots back to a cabinet. Her steps are much more relaxed than before. “All it needs now is to be put under fire.”

Sure enough, as Zecora finishes up in the cabinet, she walks back to you with some flint and a knife on her back.

“A little fire? I can handle that.” It was the truth; you’ve had to light a few fires of your own while mixing up some potions at your place.

Zecora nods and turns to her side, letting you grab the pieces off her back.

A few sparks off the flint, and soon the wood under the cauldron is burning. You are very much aware of the fact that heating the potion will make the smell of urine even more overpowering, but you can tough it out. You’ve just seen your crush take a wee in front of you and vice versa. You can handle anything.

“So how long do we keep the potion under fire?” You ask just as Zecora returns from opening the windows to her tree. That smoke’s gotta go somewhere, after all.

“The time it takes to brew a cure is a couple hours, to be sure.” Zecora and you stare into the potion’s surface. It had lost its reflective nature after you had both finished answering nature’s call.

“Guess that gives us some time to chill.”

“Indeed.” Zecora looks away from the brew. “I know of just the thing to do while we wait to make our brew.”

You turn towards her. “You do? And what would tha-”

A pair of warm lips presses against yours. You stand in shock as Zecora gingerly kisses you, her eyes closed in bliss. Despite your shock, you feel your body melting into the kiss. You let your eyes fall shut and soon find yourself returning the kiss.

The kiss is over just as quickly as it began. Zecora is the one to pull away first, leaving you kissing air for a split second. You open your eyes to find her smiling at you, and her eyelids lowered in just the way to make your heart rate climb a few extra beats.

"Z-Zecora..."

"There are many things I could explain, but I would rather relieve your pain," she says with a hint of whisper in her voice. She leans her head to the side and looks in the general direction of underneath your flanks.

It's at this point you realize that you were still feeling the stiffening effects from her show. You aren't quite at full mast, but you know it wouldn't take much to change that.

"Heh-heh," you try to speak. "Guess we're not done relieving ourselves just yet."