[Runesmith]

During the shift, using one's mobile phone was frowned upon but none of the nurses actually cared. Those nurse managers, who entered practice during the dark days of crappy SpaceLabs monitors or Ohmeda ventilators that went crazy at any hint of electromagnetic interference, had an irrational fear of phones being used in patient rooms. The truth was that since the early 2000s medical devices had been made to specifications that could withstand a hundred times more than what a mere phone could throw at them - a truth that was ignored, just to deprive those newly minted RNs of the wisdom of clincalc.com.

The patient was pale and the skin was cold and sweaty. Lynn realized that she needed a SOFA score before she could call the physician. Instead of spending forever for the damned Epic terminal to start up, she pulled out her phone to do a quick calculation. That was when she noticed a Kik notification. She didn't have the time to bother about that at the moment.

After that craziness (including putting in a large bore access in a barely-there vein) was over, Lynn headed to her "quiet place" to read the message. The "quiet place" was the ICU room 17, the designated VIP room (aka Crisco Christie room, in honour of a certain lard ball that had stayed there after a CABG), which was kept deliberately empty until needed. Unlike the other ICU rooms, this had a toilet that could be locked from the inside (and unlockable from outside only during an emergency using a special access code). It was more private than the thin-walled break room toilet, so most nurses used it for private calls.

Lynn opened the app with trepidation, and the bloody thing made her watch a 15 second video ad first. She took those seconds to compose herself. She had been hoping that there would be no message, but at the same time, she knew she'd be disappointed if there wasn't. No message would have meant that whoever it was wasn't interested in her anymore, and for some reason that would have felt like a rejection.

"I want to see you piss. Take a nice long video showing your cunt clearly, and your piss from the beginning to the end. And sound - I want to hear it."

Lynn felt her face burning as it turned a bright shade of pink. Sexual things were already humiliating, but this was way too much. Of course she had peed in secluded places with her friends during hikes and the occasional concert, but it was hidden, discreet, and they all averted their eyes, except when offering/taking tissues. And it was always girls. No guys had ever seen her pee - not even the guys she had had sex with.

There was no refusal, no bargaining. It was almost as if Lynn actually wanted to please this person. Pulling down her scrubs pants with her heavy duty panties and sitting down didn't seem to give a good angle, no matter how she tried. She had a full bladder, and there would be no second takes on this one for a few hours at least.

Lynn stood up, got out of her crocs, pulled off the scrub pants and underwear, and squatted on the toilet with her feet placed carefully on the seat. A slip and fall would be a disaster, and very hard to explain. Leaning back against the cistern, she got a good angle on the camera. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on letting go.