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  • Holding More than Cards (Kakegurui F/F)

    By SlothWhispers

    ((Another older fic, this one involves Midari and Yumeko from Kakegurui, and some good ol' Desperation and Wetting! ? It takes place after s1 of the anime, since I haven't gotten around to reading the manga to see how their relationship developed after their first match. Warning for minor dark content (a few mild references to Midari's gunplay kink and suicidal tendencies, but absolutely nothing in detail there, and nothing you wouldn't expect from the anime itself). This one is also NSFW (a masturbation scene and clothed grinding). )) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had been too long. Too long since she'd found any sort of thrill, or even remote satisfaction, at this school. No, in this life.

    Living had already seemed meaningless for the majority of her time on this earth, but ever since that fateful day, things had seemed even emptier than before. Giving makeovers, enforcing the rules of the council, scaring the hell out of certain students...she was just going through the motions, day in and day out, with nothing to change it.

    The only thing that got her heart pounding, besides the click of a cold metal barrel to her head, wasn't even a thing. It was a person.

    One glorious, beautiful, terrifying person.

    Yumeko.

    She'd been expressly forbidden from seeking her out during the weeks after their own encounter, told she wasn't to interact with their enemy until the President's secretive plans were complete. Humph. The President...

    She might have said fuck it and gone after Yumeko anyways, orders be damned, but...she'd needed time to prepare her own plans. That speech the girl had given her towards the end of their game, those cutting remarks about how they weren't actually the same at all, how pointless it was, how she wasn't actually providing a satisfying challenge...how it wasn't even a gamble, because she would have won either way...

    If she wanted to impress Yumeko, to prove that she was worth gambling with, that she was capable of giving her the kind of extraordinary rush that she felt whenever her life was on the line...She had to step it up. She had to come up with a real challenge, something crazy, something truly worthy of catching the devil's attention. Something that would give them both the pleasure and danger they craved...

    And so she'd plotted, ignoring the other council members during meetings, scrolling through her cell phone's photos and gushing over the object of her desires, trying to figure out what would make that creature tick, trying to decide what she could add to the game to really bring it over the edge...

    A few weeks later, she'd heard through the grapevine about the big showdown, the highest stakes gamble...that had ended in a tie. A tie...A game like that, painstakingly set up to prove once and for all who was going to win, Yumeko or the President...and it had all been pointless in the end. 

    Hah! It was all without any meaning, just as she'd been saying all along! She'd laughed so hard that day that she'd fallen right out of her council seat.

    And now...with everything back to square one...with no new plots in play as the council pondered their next moves, as Yumeko continued to enjoy every day, gambling away with her schoolmates...she was free to step in. She could finally have her shot at the prize.

    And so she'd left her dorm room an hour before any classes started, nearly skipping through the hallways, her handbag loaded up with her prized gun, extra ammunition, and every type of card, chip, and set of dice she could think of. She knew by now exactly where Yumeko would be, in the common area and eating some sort of pastry, and the moment she spotted the table (thankfully empty, Ryota must not have met up with her yet) she grinned, her heart beating faster.

    "Yumeko!~ It's been a long time since we've seen each other...How's it been going since you dealt with the President?"

    She'd looked up from her plate with that innocent smile, seeming to brighten up at once. "Oh, Midari! It's nice seeing you here! We had a thrilling game! I'm really looking forward to seeing what she cooks up next time..."

    "Yeah, I heard it was intense, the whole council was talking about it. But enough about the past. Got any plans lined up for the day?"

    "Not yet, but I'm sure I'll find something! There are always games going on here!"

    "Well, if you don't have anything yet...I WANT A REMATCH!" She'd hoped to play it cool, but her eagerness was getting the best of her. Still, she'd ask fair and square this time. No kidnapping or arrests. "Just hear me out, I've got something that'll knock those stockings right off! Look, I've got all of the stuff ready, so just let me explain the rul-"

    "Alright, Midari...how would you feel about a different kind of game this time? It isn't played with cards or chips, but it's still a gamble.~"

    What? Not played with cards or chips? But she'd spent weeks planning this, setting up everything they needed, ironing out all of the rules, making sure it was going to be as dangerous as possible! Was all of her hard work just going to go to waste? And what would even be entertaining about a game without any of those things? "Why would I want to play a different game? We had so much fun last time!" she pleaded, leaning closer to the table and digging through her bag until her hands clasped cold metal. She whipped it out, holding her hand towards her. "Yumeko, please just take my gun and let's go set things up! One shot, I'll let you have a free shot at me! Please, just press the barrel against my head and-"

    "No guns, or I don't play with you at all." Yumeko stated quietly, smile disappearing as she let disdain fill her voice. Her hand reached out to gently take the gun, setting it down on the table before she turned back around. "I already told you that there isn't any true risk when those are involved, not when you're so eager to die. If you aren't willing to play by my rules, I can have plenty of fun with Ryota, and you can just go by yourself and-"

    No, she couldn't choose that spineless bastard over her! He didn't deserve her, he didn't appreciate her the way she did! He was just her pet, her pawn, not someone who understood the true appeal of gambling, the thrill of surprises! "Okay! Okay, I'll do it! Whatever it is I'll do it, just name the rules! I need you, Yumeko, please! You're all I've thought about since that day! All I can think about is the rush I got when we were together, that look in your eyes...Relieve me, relieve me of all of this pent up pressure!~" She was pleading now, getting down onto her knees, staring up at the woman who held all of the power, who was her only chance at getting some relief before she went mad with lust and boredom.

    Yumeko finally smiled again, and though her face held the same cheerful innocence she often wore, she could have sworn she saw those eyes flash for a moment, that briefest glimpse of the creature she so idolized stirring beneath the surface. 

    "Actually, you're going to be feeling even more pressure before our game is over, Midari. You're going to be groveling at my feet, begging for relief.~"

    ~~~

    And so Yumeko had told her the rules of her game. She was to go about her day today as normal, with a few exceptions: 

    1. She wasn't to use the restroom or otherwise relieve herself (be it intentionally or unintentionally) until after she was given explicit permission from Yumeko. If she broke this rule before classes let out for the day, Yumeko would cancel their fun entirely. 

    2. For an extra element of chance, after every class, they would meet up in the hallway and Yumeko would flip two coins. If they both landed on tails, nothing would happen. One head, and she would be forced to down half a bottle of water right there in the few minutes before her next class, or if two heads, it would be an entire bottle. Anything else she chose to drink throughout the day and how much was entirely her choice.

    And finally, what was probably going to be the most difficult part of the challenge:

    3. She was forbidden from being anything but pleasant to Ryota if they happened to cross paths.

    She still wasn't sure how the hell having to piss was going to be anywhere close to the thrill she could seek from a gun, but this was the task Yumeko had given her, so she was determined to follow orders and see where it led. Yumeko had promised that after classes were over, they'd 'move somewhere more private for the real fun to begin', and, well...she hoped at least some of what her idol had in mind was close to what was now running rampant through her own imagination...

    ~~~

    If there was one benefit to this game of Yumeko's that she hadn't expected, it was how much more sensitive her full bladder seemed to make everything else.

    The first three classes hadn't been bad at all (she'd downed the bottle and a half from the coin flips with ease), and while lunch had been uncomfortable, it had still been manageable (so much so, in fact, that she'd downed an entire can of tea with her food, just to liven the rest of the challenge up). But things had started hitting harder for her next class, and another half bottle had actually sent nerves running through her. Although, that only served to heighten her excitement. If she was actually starting to sweat, maybe this wasn't going to be so boring after all...

    After a while of shifting and squirming in her seat during the daily council meeting, she'd ditched the room for one of her usual 'bathroom breaks'. On her way out she'd heard a few of the members muttering to each other about her awkward body language. It was ironic, actually. The one time she actually did need to piss and had a valid excuse to bust out of there, and she wasn't even going to go.

    Stepping into the stall and seeing the toilet had her shoving a hand down her skirt for an entirely different reason than usual as she was forced to cross her legs, groaning quietly. She really hadn't expected all of that water to catch up with her so early on in the challenge, but she was quickly approaching the closest she'd ever come to actual desperation. She wasn't going to let out a drop though. She had to save everything for Yumeko!

    "Yumeko..."

    Just whispering her name sent chills through her, her body shuddering before she'd sat down on the toilet. She'd had to clench her lower muscles tightly as they threatened to contract again. Fuck, she had to piss.

    "Fuck..."

    Closing her eyes and leaning her head back, she'd tried to ignore the present urge in favor of taking care of other urges. It was slow going at first. Despite her desire, it was hard to relax and get into the mood when most of her energy was focused on the constant throbbing in her abdomen. Every light touch had her stiffening up or squirming on the cold porcelain as the urgency spiked, and she had to cross her legs more than once in order to maintain control.

    But once she'd finally started to get into the rhythm of things? Once the lighter touches started adding up, and when she'd started to regain the ability to focus on the feeling of sensations besides her bladder's urges? Those other delicious tingles, the teasing drips that ran along such a sensitive area, reminding her what else could be dripping if she would just let go...

    Holy shit.

    She hadn't done anything else different from her usual stroking routine, but every single nerve seemed to be on edge, every bit of stimuli amplified tenfold. It was rolling through her body in dizzying waves, at one point so intense that she'd nearly blacked out, the bathroom stall speckling at the edges of her vison as she gasped for air, barely able to make out her ragged voice over the ringing in her ears. Mother of fuck. The only thing that kept her conscious was the absolutely burning throbbing between her legs, her hand pressed hard against the slick, pulsing part of her that was now trying to force a jet of piss out of her with all its strength. She could feel her bladder contracting along with the aftershocks, could feel everything running up her urethra, teetering right on the edge of coming out as she gently rocked in place, shuddering, with her palm serving as the only thing stopping her from losing complete control. 

    "You can do this...Y-You can do this..." she muttered repeatedly, biting down on her lip and moaning as she waited for her body to ride out the afterglow of pleasure. Slowly, her breathing began to steady, the sensation below beginning to dull as she lost her hypersensitivity, and after a few minutes she managed to pull her hand back to wipe it off with a wad of toilet paper, relying on her clenching muscles alone to hold back the flood. 

    Sweat was dripping along her forehead as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes. That was...well, it wasn't exactly at the top of her list when it came to euphoric experiences (gunplay was always going to rest at the top, forever coveted until she could find someone to engage in it with her), but...

    "What a fuckin' rush..."

    Light tapping on tile caught her attention as the restroom door creaked open, and she could see black dress shoes with white socks below the stall's opening, slowly creeping into the room in front of her. They hadn't dared come close to her stall, lurking back towards the sinks, but she could see them shuffling from side to side, eventually crossing over each other and hopping around as a hesitant knocking sounded against the granite counter. 

    "U-Um...Miss Midari? A-Are you...almost done? I-I know you don't like being, er, interrupted, b-but the other restrooms are closed for cleaning, a-and it's kind of an emergency..." The legs stepped back out of range from her limited vision as soon as the girl had finished squeaking out her question, and she just barely caught a frantically murmured "Pleasepleasedon'tshootmeohgoshpleasedon'tshoot!" She was sure that last bit had been more of a desperate prayer (how pointless), certainly not actually aimed at her.

    Any other time, she probably would have been pissed off enough to storm out and scare the living daylights out of whatever poor girl had bothered her during these special times, maybe even toy with the little thing for a bit if she wanted to get any pleasure to make up for the ruined session. But today...well, she was still in one of the most blissful afterglows of her life, so she supposed she could afford to be forgiving.

    And actually...perhaps this girl could do a little something for her after all...

    "It's fine, I don't give a shit. Just hop in and go before you piss yourself, I can see you wriggling like a toddler out there."

    The girl was hesitating, shuffing around in silence for a moment before she spoke up again, sneaking back into view as she paused in front of her stall. "Um...a-are you sure? I-It's really okay?"

    She guessed she couldn't fault her for being so cautious. It wasn't exactly above her morals to pull a trick once in a while, only to twist it around to get what she really wanted. "I'm serious, I really don't care. Just hurry up before I change my mind!"

    "Oh...o-okay...Thank you, M-Miss Midari! I really appreciate it!" Darting footsteps tapped to her left as the girl ran into a stall a couple of doors down from her own, slamming it shut and fumbling with the lock before she got situated, moaning and whimpering under her breath the whole time. 

    That's it, just let go. You must be so damn desperate...

    The moment she heard the torrent hitting the bowl she doubled over, biting down on her knuckles to muffle a cry of her own as she heard the girl huffing in relief. Her urge had just barely settled back to an ache earlier, but now it was back in full force, throbbing harshly as she squirmed around, crossing her legs so tightly that her thighs soon burned with the strain. It was splattering so loudly, hissing and pouring, the sound echoing around the otherwise silent bathroom...her bladder spasmed again, and she just barely clenched her muscles back to prevent a leak, tears springing to her eyes as she fought to breathe quietly through her nose.

    It's torture...Fucking hell, it's absolute torture!

    Thank you, Yumeko, you devil. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

    It was all she could do to focus on her pulsing bladder instead of the slowly-returning arousal below, keeping still and trying to breathe calmly instead of giving in to the sensation as the girl stepped out to wash her hands, the running water almost as agonizing. She really couldn't risk a second wave right now. No, as delicious as this suffering was, she needed to wait for a few hours, let her aching bladder settle while she distracted herself with mundane things. 

    She needed to wait for Yumeko.

    Yes...that would be far more pleasurable than anything she could conceive of doing to herself right now...

    ~~~

    Two wonderfully brutal hours later (and a final half bottle of water she'd barely been able to drink, one that the coin had only given her because her hands were shaking too badly to actually flip it), after final classes had let out for the day, she'd wasted no time tracking the little devil down, speed-walking through the hallways and trying not to stop too often. Once she finally found her she couldn't help rocking back and forth and bouncing in place where she stood, only partially out of eagerness. "Yumeko, I've followed-ah, all of your orders! Let's-ngh, start the game!"

    Yumeko hummed to herself, looking her over carefully before she smiled, clasping her hands together. "Wow, you really can't keep still, can you? Alright, let's go down to that room of yours! This is going to be so much fun!~" She was giggling, grasping her hand and pulling her along as she skipped down the hallways.

    It was such a strange, cheerful tone Yumeko was using, but she didn't mind it. It was the complete opposite of Yumeko's true aesthetic, that cold, calculating, crazy bitch that lurked under the surface, and it only served to make her even more excited about what was to come, sending her blood rushing with the dose of unease that came with wondering when that façade would be cast aside, wondering when Yumeko would rip into her once again...

    Would she treat her just as cruelly as she had the last time they'd played together, berate her and act like she wasn't worthy of being anywhere near her level? 

    Just the thought sent a shiver through her, and she tensed up, pausing in her steps and squeezing her thighs together as the throbbing between her legs spiked. How many of those bottles have I downed now? Fuck, there was that tea too...

    "You're almost bursting, aren't you? Don't slow down now though!" Yumeko chided, pouting for a moment. "We're just about to have some fun, aren't we?"

    Of course, she couldn't stop now! The sooner they got there, the sooner she could see what Yumeko was really planning to do to her, the sooner they could be alone, together, just the two of them in a soundproof room...

    Bladder be damned, she tightened her grip on Yumeko's hand, taking the lead as she nearly bolted the rest of the way to their destination. They reached the door in a couple of minutes, and she hopped around, crossing her legs against increasingly-insistent aches as she yanked the key from her vest pocket.

    "Now, once we step inside, you need to stand still with your arms apart so I can frisk you, okay?~" Yumeko giggled.

    Damn it. 

    She should have known Yumeko wouldn't have changed her mind about the no gun rule.

    Scowling, she unlocked the door and waited inside, standing as still as could be while Yumeko closed the door behind them. The girl was smiling as she made her way over, walking slowly to encircle her before she placed her hands on her shoulders, slowly feeling along the fabric of her sleeves. Those hands soon slid to move along her back, then crept forwards, reaching under and moving over her chest in firm, thorough strokes. The slight bit of attention already had her pulse spiking, and she bit back a moan, closing her eyes and trying to lean further into those fingers.

    "Uh-uh! This is a serious pat down!" Yumeko huffed, pulling her hands away for a minute before she stepped around, bringing them back to feel along her waist and down her legs in a way that made her want to melt. "You're desperate though, aren't you, Midari? Just these light strokes are enough to have you on the verge of begging, aren't they?" she whispered in her ear, a finger brushing her lip for a split second. 

    Her single gun was swiftly yanked out of her hiding place and unloaded, tossed across the room with an empty clatter.

    "You disgust me."

    Without any warning, fingers ran down her stomach and towards her bladder in a single swift motion, pressing into her swollen skin one at a time. Two. Four. Six. Eight. All ten, massaging in small circles and feeling around every aching inch, forcing her breath to hitch and gasp as she struggled to stay perfectly still, and not send her hands lunging downwards. Stronger pulses kept striking in new spots as Yumeko continued to feel around like she was molding clay, and she clenched her muscles as tightly as she could against the sudden rush of burning pressure, tears beginning to prick at her eyes.

    "How about now, Midari? How close are you to losing control and begging me to help you with what you can't accomplish yourself? It's just like our last game, isn't it? Except, this time..." Oh fuck, it was Yumeko's real voice this time, that heartless tone that sent tingles through every inch of her, disdain practically dripping in every word. "This time I'm in charge of the rules. I'm the one getting the pleasure out of this. I'm not here to serve your suicidal whims, you're here to serve me." 

    Her breathing was quickening the longer Yumeko went on, that familiar ache filling every fibre of her body as she squeezed her thighs together for another purpose, a moan escaping her lips. But even before that ripple of pleasure could run through her, a wave of pressure nearly overtook her, her abdomen quivering with an especially frantic spasm that had her legs trembling.

    "Yumeko, fuck, I-I think I'm gonna-"

    "What did I say about who was in charge, Midari? You aren't allowed to let a drop go until I say so. Follow the rules of the game. Hold it."

    She was outright panting now, straining every inch of her body into tightening up where she stood, still unsure if she was allowed to grab herself or cross her legs. The throbs were absolutely relentless now, each pulse reminding her of how damn full she was, how long she'd been holding it all in, how close she was to exploding.

    "You are going to wait for however long I want you to, no matter what I do to you. And then I'm going to savor watching you lose control...Is that clear?"

    She was in so much pain that she wanted to cry, her breathing unsteady, but she found herself grinning anyways, a sharp cackle bursting from her no matter how badly it shook her bladder. "You know, this is pretty damn close to what you fussed at me for. No matter what, my body's gonna give out eventually, so you'll still get what you want. Not much of a gamble, is it?"

    "But isn't this what you wanted? An excuse for me to berate you like the pathetic person you are? Time with just the two of us and no one to interfere? A game where all of my focus is on you?"

    If she wasn't so busy trying not to piss herself, she probably would have creamed her skirt right there. Was Yumeko actually just doing this for her?

    "Y-Yeah, but..."

    Yumeko had stepped forward again, pressing her larger chest right up against hers, those entrancing red eyes staring into her as a hand crept around her neck, squeezing tighter and pulling until their lips were locked. Yumeko pulled away before she could make any attempts to prolong the kiss, smirking.

    "It'll still be a guessing game of when you'll lose it, right? Every move you make will be a gamble to hold it in!"

    ~~~

    Damn, she had to piss so badly she could barely think about anything else, could hardly focus on taking in the image of Yumeko lying, still clothed, underneath her, face flushed and eyes practically glowing with that delicious, terrifying gaze. She couldn't stop the strange lap dance she was giving, her crotch grinding into that soft stomach with no sense of rhythm, rocking this way and that and suddenly jerking to change direction mid-movement. She just had to find the right angle, the right sense of pressure to keep the flood at bay for just a few more seconds, please, just a moment where the burning pressure at the edge wasn't shrieking at her.

    "Fuck, Yumeko, please..."

    Her thighs kept clenching around the body beneath her for all that they were worth, tingling and shaking as she strained the muscles to squeeze harder still, but it did nothing but add extra pressure between her legs, sent beads of teasing sweat rolling along them. She was trying so hard not to breathe, not daring to inflate her core with air that could take up precious space, and the dizziness was amazing, sending her vision dancing and adding yet another rush of pleasure that threatened to overtake her. It was wet down there, wet and clenching, over and over against nothing, fuck she needed to-

    She had to gasp for air just before she blacked out, her breaths coming out ragged and desperate, quick and short alternating with longer heaves as she lowered her head to rest against Yumeko's, each inhale sending waves of agony through her bladder, sending more waves of pleasure through overstimulated organs that were still trying to recover from the euphoria she'd just ridden out. The pressure was still there, it was still there and it was such sublime torture, and she had to keep squirming even though her crotch was begging her to stay still to recover, each wave of friction hurting and causing her to flinch.

    A fresh burst of warmth joined the slimy moisture between her legs, and she cried out, burying her face into Yumeko's neck as she shoved her hands against her crotch. It hurt, oh, it hurt, and no matter how hard she strained and clenched it kept coming, pouring out between her fingers and pooling into the fabric of the dress shirt below her.

    "No! N-No, nonono!!! We can't stop the fun now, we can't!!!"

    She liked to think her willpower had been what had finally sealed off the leak, but in reality it was Yumeko's hand, slipping past her own to squeeze and press against her most intimate areas.

    "I'm only helping you for a moment while you collect yourself. This is still a gamble, right? The rest of the game will be on you."

    She tried to nod, but all she ended up doing was sinking her teeth into Yumeko's neck to muffle an agonized, overjoyed scream. Yumeko was touching her, she was touching her and fuck, that was what she dreamed about so often, a satisfying thought-turned-reality that almost made her body overload yet again. She couldn't help a quick buck against those fingers, but that only earned a swat on her ass that forced her to yelp, another quick spurt of urine escaping.

    "Now now, that isn't fair! This game isn't about getting whatever you want! No breaking the rules!"

    And then Yumeko withdrew her hand, leaving her to fend off the inevitable alone. "FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK!"

    She had to piss, she had to piss so badly she couldn't stand it, every breath, every tiny motion making the urge worse and worse, reminding her that no matter how much she begged and pleaded and moaned, it was going to come out soon, it was going to come out and the game would end and she couldn't stave it off forever. She was writhing around like her life depended on it, shoving her hands into her crotch and grinding against Yumeko, crying and gasping and unable to help the saliva dripping from her mouth, unable to help the slick that was still dripping and being produced in the same area where another liquid was barely being contained. "I don't want to go yet, I can't, please pleasepleaseplease don't let me, d-don't let me-"

    Another teasing spurt ran along her fingers and she sobbed, rocking her hips with a whimper. She'd been holding for so long now, it was almost hard to imagine actually letting go completely, and these leaks were only serving to sharpen the burning pain below, not relieve it. But damn, it felt amazing, the constant pressure and pain teasing her in ways normal ministrations could never hope to.

    I can't let our game end yet! 

    "Y-Yumeko!" she gasped out, shifting to try and grasp her crotch more firmly. "The gun, g-get the gun!" She could see Yumeko raising up her head to glare at her, so she hurried to finish speaking before she could be interrupted. "I know it's empty, I'm-ah, n-not gonna fuckin' shoot it! J-Just hand it to me, please!"

    Yumeko looked skeptical, but she had the mercy (or maybe just curiosity) to fulfill her request, shifting her arms behind her and pushing to slide herself further back along the floor until she could reach the weapon. Once she grasped it, she held it out to her.

    She snatched it immediately with one hand, fumbling to shift it in her fingers until she had it with the handle up, the barrel facing towards herself. Perfect. Bracing herself, she raised herself up from Yumeko's wet stomach, wasting no time shoving the metal between her legs and pressing it as closely against her crotch as she could, squeezing her thighs shut around it. The shocking cold of the object forced her to leak a small spurt, but after her body heat began to warm it she regained control. 

    "Mmm, that's creative...I suppose I won't count the gun against you for this..." Yumeko murmured, pulling on the collar of her vest until she adjusted, sitting on her knees, still on top of her stomach. "Let's see how much longer you can go..." With a devilish grin, she'd yanked her to lean down further, capturing her lower lip in a bite that drew blood.

    She couldn't help moaning, her remaining eye closing as she tried to focus her other senses on capturing this moment. The smell of Yumeko's perfume, so much sweeter and more gentle than the girl who wore it. Her pants and murmurs in her ears, the warm hands roaming through her hair and down her neck to stroke her collarbones, and soon slipping under her shirts to run along her stomach.

    "You're so pretty, Midari...It's a shame you're such a wreck."

    Oh fuck, her hands were just barely brushing along her abdomen, but it was still enough to send fresh waves of desperation shuddering through her, her hands tightening their grip on Yumeko's top as she squirmed. "No, nononono-"

    Her bladder spasmed again, sharp and agonizing, and no matter how hard she clenched, a hot stream drenched the gun, running down the barrel and wetting her legs. Breath hitching, she bucked, half-grinding against the metal object in a last-ditch attempt to increase the pressure, but it was no use. She was completely losing control now, her abdomen becoming strangely warm as her bladder began to empty of its own will. 

    "Fuck...I-I can't..."

    She was clenching every muscle, but piss was still flooding out of her, loud hissing and her own ragged gasps filling the room as she collapsed against Yumeko, her face resting between her breasts. The girl's fingers laced themselves through her hair, gripping it tightly enough to hurt as she pulled her head up to make eye contact, while the other pulled the gun out from between her legs, dangling the dripping thing in front of her.

    "You've ruined your favourite toy, haven't you? You're so tired you can barely move, you're drenched with more than just piss, and I think even less of you now than I already did...how does that make you feel, Midari? Who's the winner of this little game?"

    She knew the answer was supposed to be 'Yumeko'. This whole thing was supposed to be payback for her own game, proving a point by doing something that primarily gave Yumeko pleasure while she suffered, just like how Yumeko had suffered through a boring gamble for her own twisted benefit. And it had definitely given Yumeko pleasure. The girl's eyes were nearly glowing, her chest heaving with her own breathless pants and her face blazing red, her legs quivering underneath where she was sitting. Damn, she hadn't even needed to rub one out, coming just from the show alone. 

    But...lying here with sopping wet fabric underneath her, soaking her own clothes as relief began to make her head spin, having been pushed to her absolute limit, put through pure hell and agony with something that could be done over long stretches of time, instead of the split-second highs the click of her gun could offer...being brought to a pitiful condition like this...and with Yumeko getting so physical with her, paying attention to only her for a good hour or two...

    "Actually..." she huffed, a giddy smile working its way onto her face despite her exhaustion. "I think...this is more of a draw. We might have to go for another round to decide..."

    "So you still haven't learned your lesson..." Despite the cold gaze, she could tell that, this time, it was more for show than actual disappointment. "I guess I'll have to raise the stakes then..."
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  • A Wet Night with a Dragon

    By MasterXploder

    “Hmmm?” For some reason, the waking world had decided to gently pull Lucoa, the divine dragon and former goddess, from her pleasant dreams a little earlier than usual. As she opened her eyes, she realized it was still the middle of the night, for the room was shrouded in darkness, the only sounds coming from the ceiling fan above. Though she was awake now, her eyelids still drooped with fatigue, and the desire to return to sleep was quite strong. However, another desire proved stronger, and that was to check on the bed’s other occupant. As quietly and smoothly as she could, she propped herself up and took a look at him, her dragon eyes working just as well as they did in broad daylight. Shouta, her sweet little master of sorts, lied fast asleep as she expected. Clad in his green pajamas, his chest gently rose and fell with each silent breath. His left hand lied next to his head in a half-closed fist while his right arm rested on his stomach. Lucoa sighed wistfully as she gazed at the dozing child. He looked so adorable with his face at total ease, a rare sight for her despite how much time they spent together. On the other hand, she also noticed that his body was uncovered all the way down to his socks. He must have tossed the blanket off him in his sleep, she surmised. That was just no good. It was a rather frigid night, and those thin PJ’s wouldn’t do much against the chilly air. She would never forgive herself if she allowed him to catch a cold overnight. Her first thought was to cuddle up and share her plentiful body heat, but she quickly dismissed it. The last time she tried that, Shouta complained about nearly suffocating underneath her “giant demon orbs” as he called them. That left the other option of pulling the covers over him and maybe nudging a little closer to him just in case. She slowly reached her hand over and grabbed the blanket, intending to do just that. “Num-hmm-hmm…” Lucoa froze up as Shouta mumbled suddenly. Had she stirred him awake by accident? She watched over him, looking for any signs that he would wake soon. Shouta fidgeted a little and kept muttering, his face tensing up in discomfort, but his eyes did not open. Lucoa frowned at the sight. The poor kid must be having a bad dream. She would have to do something about that. With a quick wave of her hand, a magic circle appeared, sending a soft light around Shouta’s head. The magic dispelled the nightmare, and he soon returned to a peaceful snooze. Satisfied with her work, Lucoa went to put the blanket back on him, but she stopped again. A very quiet noise, one that she would not have heard if not for her draconic senses, emanated from Shouta. If she didn’t know any better, it sounded like water hitting fabric, but the only way that would be possible at this time was if… “Oh dear.” A quick look down was all it took to confirm her worry. A wet patch had formed on Shouta’s pants and grew bigger by the second. It soon spread to between his legs and onto the mattress, growing into a pool around his bottom. Before long, urine was visibly breaking the cotton barrier, amplifying the sound of whizzing. As a neutrally-aligned dragon, Lucoa did not meddle in human affairs, but she had picked up on a few of their quirks. For instance, humans had the peculiar behavior of being embarrassed and ashamed about removing waste from their bodies, only doing so in designated places closed off from others. Should they end up voiding in their clothing, they tended to get very upset. At least, that’s what she gleamed from watching TV with Shouta. She could not imagine him being any different. It was such a strange sight to her, seeing him wet the bed yet not showing the slightest care on his face. The poor boy must have no idea what was happening, just the feeling of something discomforting slowly going away and relaxing him back into a deep sleep. Of course, that would no doubt change the instant he woke up and felt the cold, smelly liquid drenching his PJ’s. She was not about to let that happen. As soon as he finished his business, she would cast another spell that would remove all traces of urine, making it appear as if an accident never happened. She had to wait a while before that could happen, though. Shouta must have had something to drink and forgotten to pee before bed, it was the only way to explain how long his wetting was taking. By the time the sound of peeing came to a stop, the front of his pants were thoroughly soaked, and the back was likely not any better. But the more she watched Shouta relieve himself, the more Lucoa became aware of a tingling between her legs as well. Maybe it was the just of watching someone else go, or maybe it was the culprit for waking her up in the first place, but she wouldn’t mind having a potty break herself now. Unfortunately, she did not find getting up to use the toilet a good idea. Her movements might wake Shouta, who would probably cry his eyes out upon realizing he wet the bed. That could be solved simply by cleaning the mattress before she got out, but it was a convenient excuse. In truth, she was feeling rather lazy, the warmth of the bed a little too enticing to leave its embrace. Still, she needed to rid herself of that pesky pressure before she could get comfortable enough to go back to sleep. The simple solution was to magically remove the urine in her at the same time as she did Shouta’s, but then she thought of another idea. A far cheekier one. As a dragon, the concept of wetting oneself was still a foreign one to her. The only time she could recall that happening to her was when she was slipped with that tainted alcohol, and all she could recall was waking up in wet scales. It was a surprising moment, though not entirely unpleasant, at least compared to the other consequences of her drunken night. Taking one last look at Shouta, Lucoa lowered herself back into bed and snuggled into the covers. Her urine pressed against her bladder begging for release, but she no longer resisted it. She was going to satisfy her curiosity and see what the fuss of peeing herself was like. “Oh!” Lucoa gasped as the first bit of pee slipped out and hit the scales masquerading as her panties, the only thing she wore below her shirt. It felt so… warm, and the way it made her pseudo-undies cling to her privates only doubled that sensation. It was a strange sensation to be sure, but not a very uncomfortable one. She did not see the fuss behind having an accident just yet. It was time to open the floodgates. The dragon went from passively allowing pee to leave her to actively forcing it out, and the effect was instant. The room filled with a loud hissing noise as an amount of urine greater than any human could produce gushed from between her legs. In no time at all, her legs were soaked as well as the mattress below and blankets above. Drops of it soon ran down the mattress’ side, spreading the puddle onto the floor. The wet warm feelings running all over her lower body sent a medley of strange signals to the dragon’s brain, leaving her unsure what to think of her wetting. It was uncomfortable, and she definitely would not want to go back to sleep like this for sure. On the other hand, it also felt oddly relaxing, being able to just relax and let go without leaving the comfort of the bed. She wouldn’t mind doing this again, though she would need to do something about the pee getting everywhere. Even though Lucoa did not consider herself bursting to go, her wetting took far longer than Shouta’s. It was only after about five minutes that her stream began to taper off, the hissing dying down to a piddle. The mattress had been completely soaked through on her side, and the puddle on the floor reached out so far, it looked as if someone dumped a ten-gallon container’s worth of urine. Yet through all that, Lucoa kept one eye on Shouta the entire time, and not once did he stir in his sleep. She never figured him to be such a heavy sleeper. Maybe her magic to dispel the nightmare was a little stronger than she meant. She also had to wonder if his parents had heard her accident in the next room over. Then again, they never said anything on the night Shouta woke up screaming because he found out he was groping her by accident. Maybe the whole family was full of heavy sleepers. But as she looked at Shouta, Lucoa fell into a peaceful state despite the massive amount of pee in the room. “Even in your sleep, you still come up with great ideas.”     Shouta groaned as a ray of sunlight reached his eyes, bringing him out of his slumber. He did not open them just yet, instead choosing to turn his head away and hope that Lucoa’s world-class qualities were not right in front of him. While he lied there, memories of his last dream gradually returned to him. He had been in front of his cauldron performing a summoning spell when Lucoa jumped out without a shred of clothing on, just like their first meeting. That was bad enough on its own, but then the cauldron started spewing water everywhere, quickly flooding the room and knocking him over in surprise. The feeling of wetness as the water reached his legs was so strong, it was almost like… Oh no! Shouta felt a cold sweat coming on. He really couldn’t have, could he? It had been so long since the last time it happened, well before summoning Lucoa. On the other hand, he couldn’t recall using the bathroom before he went to bed, and that almost always spelled trouble for him. He really did not want to, but Shouta lowered a hand to check his pants for a wet patch. He had no idea what he was going to do if Lucoa found about this. Taking a gulp, he gave his crotch a couple pats, fully expecting the worst. “Huh?” Dry as a bone. Any other time, this would bring relief to Shouta, but now it only brought confusion. That dream felt so real, he was certain something had to have come out. He needed to take a close look to be sure. Carefully opening his eyes, Shouta found that he was the only one in bed. He wondered where Lucoa could have gone for a moment, but quickly returned to the matter at hand. He pulled the covers off of him and sat up, the sun coming through the window giving him enough to see. Nothing. Not a single drop of pee anywhere. The panic and dread began to die down in Shouta, though the confusion remained. If he hadn’t wet the bed, then where did that sensation come from? “Oh.” That’s when he felt it, that familiar pressure that often got him out of bed in the mornings. All that urine he worried about leaking out was still inside him, and boy, did it want out now. Shouta wondered if that dream he had was his body’s way of waking him up before he could wet the bed, but he would dwell on that as soon as his bladder was empty. With no Lucoa to worry about, Shouta climbed out of bed, feeling the full weight of his bladder as he walked out of his bedroom and into the upstairs bathroom, thankfully unoccupied. Closing the door, he lifted up the toilet seat and pulled down the front of his jammie pants. He then took aim and relaxed his holding muscles. A trickle of tinkle soon came out of him and arced into the toilet, making a satisfying splashing noise that could be heard outside the bathroom. Seeing that his aim was spot-on, Shouta looked straight ahead and breathed out in contentment. It seemed like he had outgrown his bed-wetting just like his mom said he would. He didn’t have to worry about anyone else finding out, especially not Lucoa. With that in mind, Shouta’s mind remained at ease as his morning pee slowly came to an end, bringing his hips forward to compensate for his weakening stream. A slight shiver ran through him while he forced out the last few spurts and shook out any remaining drops. In all, his pee took maybe twenty seconds, which he found a little odd. He normally went for a good deal longer in the mornings. Perhaps he hadn’t had as much to drink yesterday as he thought. Shouta shrugged and flushed the toilet, sending the yellowed water off to who knows where. He had bigger things to focus on today. “Good morning, Shouta!” Two of those bigger things were right in front of him. “L-L-Lucoa!?” Shouta jumped back at the dragon lady next to him. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked with a smile. “H-h-how long have you been standing there!?” Lucoa put a finger to her chin. “Hmm, about shortly after you came in. Why do you ask?” “You did? B-but that means…” Shouta’s eyes grew big as saucers as it dawned on him. “Shouta, are you okay?” Lucoa turned her head. “Aaaaaaaah!” Faster than even a divine dragon could imagine, Shouta ran between Lucoa’s legs and out the bathroom door. The whole house was then filled with the sound of him screaming “The succubus is watching me pee!” All the while, Lucoa stood there with a puzzled look. She had followed the human custom of waiting until somebody was finished relieving themselves before speaking to them. Why he still got upset was simply beyond her. But as she stood there, another thought crossed her mind, and an important one at that. She turned around and leaned out the bathroom door, shouting as loud as Shouta did. “Shouta, don’t forget to wash your hands!”
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  1. A story with Trish Una, of JoJo's bizarre adventure Part 5 (Golden Experience). I usually don't write fanfics (Most series I like have characters too young to lewd, or I have no urge to write Omo with them because I have come up with some other idea). Working title 'Fighting Gold' (funny right?).

    Trish, a girl who is a prissy and uptight girl who wants for nothing for most of the series is a great target for omorashi. She also wears a nice long skirt with a tall slip, also perfect for omorashi! She is also a character in a series where enemies can have insane powers of wildly differing power levels and capabilities. Point of fact, an enemy in Part 3 is called The Lovers. This stand has the ability to sort of link their pain to someone by sending a tiny Stand construct into the person's body who digs into their nervous system and sends pain when the Stand owner gets hurt. The Lovers is a stand with a lot of strange potential for lewd stories, and even possibly omorashi. 

    But for an omorashi story, an original Stand may be in order.

    Ironmaiden.jpg.e22117623952ed5e2b0427e6f462cb2d.jpg

    Introducing: Iron Maiden! 

    Stand User: Amaro Grappa

    A 'Bound' stand that takes the form of intimate women's clothing. While it can change appearance, and even shape to a fair degree, Iron Maiden is still a physical clothing item that can be seen by non-stand users. It often defaults to quality lace panties, but can also be a bra, or other single pieces of light clothing.

    Once worn, Iron Maiden has the ability to entrap a target by making it impossible to take the clothing item off again until the Stand User releases them. While it has a target trapped, Iron Maiden is able to defend itself, and perform limited attacks on the target. Any attacks that strike Iron Maiden can have all the force transferred into the person wearing Iron Maiden, even attacks by Stands that specifically try to strike the clothing only will have it forced into the wearer. There is a brief recovery period between uses of this ability, but it works as a perfect defense for Iron Maiden. 

    Iron Maiden can also influence the body of the person wearing it, dramatically increasing or decreasing the flow of bodily fluids through the body. 

    The reason for this ability is linked to one of the last abilities of Iron Maiden. If it is able to absorb the bodily fluids of people to temporarily increase its own strength in the first two abilities. It can make its defenses even harder to pierce, and use it more often. It can also mess with the natural functions of the wearer to the degree of drying someone out in mere minutes through insane amounts of sweating or salivating until dehydration occurs. 

    The user of Iron Maiden is Amaro Grappa, who is a bit of a creeper. While he used to use Iron Maiden to attack different targets for Passione, usually performing torture or intimidation, he also found that Iron Maiden is useful for his more perverted uses.

    So that is my Enemy Stand, and the idea that follows is pretty simple. Trish ends up with Iron Maiden on (probably after forcing one of the boys to buy her new underpants after the fight with Notorious B.I.G.), and then while the boys are busy preparing for Moody Blues to find out the identity of Boss, Trish realizes that Iron Maiden isn't normal, and that she can't get off her underpants to deal with the large drink of water she was nursing since they arrived on Sardinia. 

    Amaro Grappa communicates with Trish through the stand, and Trish realizes real fast that unless she can figure out some trick, or find the Stand User (among other people in the shopping area she is in), she is going to have an accident that she can't stop.

    Hopefully this will be good fun to write, but it'll take a lot to get in the mindset to write in someone else's space. I mean, if anyone sees this and likes the idea, let me know.

  2. Latest Entry

    POV: BRYCE

    I’ve always been into pee, particularly desperation. The only person I’ve ever told is this girl I went on a few dates with named Kara.

    Our first date was at the movies. We got popcorn and a large drink, which I didn’t even think we’d finish, but she got up and got a refill about halfway through. I barely had any, but Kara managed to finish the whole thing!

    After the movie, she excused herself to the bathroom. On the way home, though, I noticed she was squirming and fidgeting, but I didn’t think much of it. As soon as we got to my house, she made a beeline for the bathroom. We started making out in my room. When it started to go somewhere, she said

    ”Hold on, I’ll be right back. I gotta pee.”

    ”Are you alright?”

    ”Yeah, why?”

    ”You’ve been going to the bathroom a lot.”

    Her cheeks went a little red. “Well... Whenever I have sex, I make sure my bladder’s really full so I can pee afterwards. It helps to prevent pregnancy.”

    ”Really?” I asked. She nodded.

    ”Plus, I read it can make it more pleasurable. I drank too much though. I don’t want to have to pee too badly. It gets distracting, and kind of painful, so I go to the bathroom and let a little bit out.” I noticed she was bent over a bit.

    ”I mean, the fuller the better, right? Like, wouldn’t you want to pee as much as possible afterwards?”

    She hesitated. “I guess, yeah,” she said, and sat back down. In hindsight, this was kind of sadistic on my part, but knowing her bladder was so overfull while I was fucking her drove me crazy. It was the best sex I’ve ever had. As soon as I came, she said “Okay, let me up.” She rushed to the toilet without shutting the door, sighing as her strong urine stream hissed out of her like a firehose.

    Our next date was at a restauraunt. She went through the drinks like nothing, excusing herself to the bathroom numerous times.

    POV: KARA

    On the drive home, I had to pee so bad I couldn’t think about anything else. Bryce’s parents were going out, so we were going to his house again. I’m not supposed to be there after dark.

    I wanted to pee a little bit as soon as we got there, but he was oddly enthusiastic about going straight to his bedroom. I decided I’d go as soon as we were undressed. A little while later, though, we heard something downstairs.

    ”Oh, shit,” he said, and hurriedly got all his clothes back on.

    We hadn’t done anything yet, but I had already undressed down to my underwear. I was about to excuse myself to the restroom before we heard it. My bladder was swollen with hot piss and I couldn’t keep still. I was squirming a lot and occasionally squeezing myself.

    ”I need you to hide in the closet,” he told me. “My parents are super strict, they can’t see you here right now. I’m gonna go see what they’re doing home.”

    He left before I could ask him what to do about my urgent need. I had to go so badly, but I hid in the closet anyway. Pretty soon, I was marching around and holding myself, rubbing in between my legs occasionally.

    ”Oh my god,” I groaned quietly. My bladder was full to bursting. I needed to pee so bad I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. Finally, I heard the car leave the driveway and he came back in the room. I came out, trembling and holding myself.

    ”Sorry it took so long,” he said, “my mom lost her purse. She’s freaking out. They’re going to check—“

    ”I’m sorry, I can’t hold it. I have to pee so bad.” I went towards the bathroom.

    “Wait!” he said, “I think you should hold it.”

    I shook my head. “I’m gonna explode.”

    ”No, just think about it. A full bladder supposed to make sex more pleasurable. If you’re really bursting, this’ll be, like, the best orgasm you’ve ever had.”

    ”I really don’t think-“

    ”If you change your mind at any point, you can just run to the bathroom and come back.”

    ”Fuck, I need to go, though!”

    ”It’s not like you can get hurt from holding your pee or anything.”

    I was stepping around and squeezing my pussy intermittently  with both hands inside my underwear. “I guess,” I said, hoping I could hold it. When I got in the bed, I could feel the liquid sloshing around inside of me. He pulled my panties off and it got even harder to hold

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    Recent Entries

    Hi Understanding world.

    I am struggling as i have no one to talk too about my deepest darkest diaper needs

    I've been silently in this world for a long long time...  Its a world hidden from everyone in my life.  No one knows but me.

    I am a 40 year old wife, mother, and business woman in  a small city so ya people would not understand.  Heck even i don't understand!  

    I battle silently with my love for diapers and being helpless and small.  I put it away for a while and convenience myself it is gone only to have it return again and again... especially when i am anxious or overdone.   To top it off I am a Christian so i even battle faith vs feelings in myself... like I am not strong enough to do what is right.

    I don't totally trust writing here as I wrote something once years back and some guy just wanted to talk to me for less then appropriate reasons.  Its not sexual to me, its a control and release.  Wearing diapers gives me a tiny smidgen of control over myself in a world where life just is crazy and doesn't always feel safe.  SO no... i wont post pictures or video myself.

    Anyways believe it or not after almost 20 years of creating my own diapers out of towels or blankets, today i went to the store and bought some depends overnights.  They aren't babyish, but i can hide them under my clothes with ease.  So yep.  I actually bought some.  Now I am happily wearing multiple ones and they are getting quite wet. 😍🎉

    I wish i didn't feel this way, but even more i just didn't want to be alone tonight.  

    Thanks for hearing me out... 

    Lizzy

     

     

     

     

     

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    Recent Entries

    Latest Entry
    Many years ago I had this Lady-friend, who'd allways be wearing black bra and lacey panties, paired with nylon. While I thought it looked stunning on her, there was another big attraction to me about her..One day she asked me to: "..push hard downthere..on my bladder - Ooh that feels so Good.." I didn't know what I was hearing, was confused and extremely excited at the same time. Did she just-.. Could it be that she loved the sweet pain from her full bladder ?? Could it even be..that there were m o r e people just like me ?? We repeated that same foreplay several more times after that, and everytime it'd start out with her complaining about how bad sne needed a pee, grabbing my hand and directing it towards her bladder area. She'd explain to me what she liked, how hard to push on her lower abdomen, where to push and how to massage her overly filled bladder..After that she'd stand up and go to the toilet leaving me breathless to be honest .By then I knew I was hooked ! Only to discover a whole group of people loving the exact same thing as me ..
     
    So thank you people - for having me, here, for sharing.. and for just dreaming w i t h me.
    I'm not a mental freak after all,as I do know now, and that's much appreciated!
    Mike

    mEeyPdjPrzA.jpg

  3. In my personal holding history, today will be marked as "The Day Of Really Poor Timing".

    All I wanted was just to try being desperate on subway. I haven't peed since 21:30 yesterday, and drank a fair amount before going there. Still, I was at about 8/10 while riding, 8,5 at most while walking to my destination point, where I peed. I spent a few hours there and kept drinking some water or soda now and then, but when I was about to leave, I was too full to even make it to the subway station. I had to use the bathroom, wishing to have had left half an hour before.

    I was pretty adamant to get that subway desperation today: I have no idea if I have to take it anytime soon. Before going home, I went to a fast food place and helped myself on two beers and a soup. Now the pressure is building, and I hope to have some fun finally.

    UPD: 4 stations left until mine, I'm at 9 and it feels AMAZING.

  4. I videod myself recently putting on a pair of pants that I had wet earlier and wetting them again. I let out a few spurts before letting go completely. By the look of things, there was some pre-cum showing through as well!

    Not the prettiest of sights, perhaps, but fun to do.

    148 rewetting.mp4
  5. Lydia and the Dragonborn had gone down to the dining room early the next morning to prepare for the day ahead of them, the Dragonborn still rubbing his eyes; clearly he hadn’t slept very well, but he had a job to do – one more important than saving the world, of course, because he couldn’t be expected to do that if a barmaid were to murder him for letting her business fall apart in her absence. So he just trudged along to take up a position behind the bar and prepare for what was definitely not going to be an enjoyable day. Lydia followed along quietly, looking just as tired as her husband of just twelve hours.

    Though one of them was obviously more awake than the other. Where Bjorn seemed to ignore everything around him except the bare minimum to walk properly, Lydia had noticed that the two weren’t alone. Nobody was supposed to be in the inn so early, and yet there was a figure seated at a table near the bar, hunched over what looked like a teapot with a cup in hand. Lydia halted for a moment and just stared at the figure, surprised more than anything else, though she quickly recognized the figure as the little Khajiit lady who’d been living in the inn and working for Keerava. What was her name again? Azhani? That seemed right.

    Lydia remained stationary as Azhani seemed to notice someone was looking at her; the Khajiit raised her head to look vaguely at the spectator and give something of a wave with the hand her cup was in. Her mouth was slightly open, and Lydia could tell by her movements that she was breathing heavier than normal. Azhani’s tail twitched with what Lydia recognized as annoyance – assuming Khajiit worked the same way as cats, at least, which could very well just be racist – though she didn’t seem to be mad at anything in particular, just sitting there occasionally halting her breathing long enough to drink some of her tea.

    “Uh, hi,” was what Lydia came up with after a couple of minutes wherein the only sounds were the Khajiit’s breathing and the Dragonborn rearranging bottles in the kitchen. ”You alright?” She stepped a little closer to Azhani’s table, being sure to keep a safe distance in case the answer was a rather violent “no”.

    The actual response was a shrug, a particularly-deep breath, and a quiet “Could be worse.” Then Azhani’s nose twitched and she sat up a little straighter, looking off in the direction of the kitchen and the promise of imminent breakfast. “All that food isn’t just for him, is it?”

    Lydia gave a quick snort of laughter as she pulled up a chair at the opposite end of Azhani’s table. “You sure you’re fine?” She folded both arms in front of herself. “You don’t look very… uh… Oh, gods.” Lydia brought her hands to her face with a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re…”

     “Yeah.” Azhani shrugged again and spoke slowly. “Pretty bad season this time, but… at least it isn’t every month.”

    “Sounds fun,” Lydia said with just a grain of sarcasm. “So you’re out of commission, and I guess I could do your job for you. How long do you figure this is going to last? A week? Couple weeks?”

    Azhani swirled her teacup around as if it were a wine glass. “Eh, worst part is over in two… three days maybe. After that, two weeks? But that part… will be fine.” Redirecting her gaze to the table, she added, quieter, “Would be over sooner if, eh… If I had help, yes?”

    Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Can’t do that yourself?”

    “With what? All I have is hands.” The Khajiit raised her free hand and flexed her claws. “And I don’t know about you but… I have been with enough Khajiit to know I’d rather just… deal with it than stick sharp things in there.”

    “P-point taken.” Lydia’s response was followed by a nervous laugh as that mental image made her press her legs together. “But, uh… w-what was that about Khajiit? I mean, I’ve read the uncensored version of that one book about Barenziah, but I never thought they really had… uh, those.”

    “Oh yeah, they have them, they’re only sharp going out, and you never get used to it. Glad I do not have to deal… with the Ba… ah?” Azhani jumped a bit in her seat as she looked up and a little to her left, guided by the smell of nearby food. “How… uh… how long have you been there?”

    “Well, let’s just say I, uh… Didn’t think I’d never need to hear how Khajiit penises work… Even so, I think everyone can appreciate some breakfast.” The Dragonborn set down a tray of various meats and toast, along with a bottle of mead and a few mugs. He gave Lydia a little kiss on the cheek as he pulled up his own seat near her, leaving the ravenous carnivore at the other end of the table to her own devices. “Long day ahead of you, eh?”

    “Oh, please, like taking care of a bar for a few days is going to be any worse than walking halfway across the province. Country. Whatever the fuck this place is now.” Lydia made herself a little sandwich while she spoke. “I’ve killed dragons with you, this is nothing.”

    Bjorn yawned, then carefully grabbed whatever food he could without getting his arm clawed off, settling on a piece of toast. “Oh, you’ll wish we had a dragon to kill once you’ve had a couple hours of this. It’s either going to bore you into Oblivion or you’ll work your ass off for twelve hours only to find out that apparently that’s all for a half-Septim profit at the end of the day.” He looked over at Azhani, who stared back at him, her head tilted as she tried to breathe around a piece of bacon hanging from her mouth. “Though profit margins would probably look a lot better if one of us wasn’t getting everything she wants here for free.”

    Azhani swallowed her bacon, and her tail’s thrashing grew faster as her ears flattened against her head. She spoke between deep breaths. “At least… when I take something… there’s still… something left.”

    “Hah, true, and we both know what’d happen if you decided to take too much, right?” Bjorn continued quickly, ignoring Azhani digging her claws into the table. “Speaking of which, all that tea can’t be good for you, can it?”

    The little Khajiit looked surprised to hear the genuine concern in the Dragonborn’s voice. “Perhaps not… But it helps me when I’m… like this. Keeps me, ah… calm, and awake. Doesn’t help the pain, and I’m still… hot, but… it is the reason I am… still wearing pants and not currently, ah, jumping at the, eh… nearest male.” When Azhani noticed the strange looks she was getting from across the table, she added, “Um, not that… that means, uh… anyone in… in particular…” Then she turned her attention back to the plate in front of her, trying not to look at anything else.

    “Uh, alright, sure, if you say so. Just… don’t make it my problem.” Turning back to Lydia, the Dragonborn said, “As for you, you may be confident now, but we’ll see what sort of trouble you end up in later, won’t we?”

    “Wow, never would have guessed that that’s what this is about.” Lydia rolled her eyes and folded her arms with a smirk on her face. “You ought to know me better than to underestimate me like that. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to put on a bit of a show for you if you really want one.”

    “Well, I’ll never turn down some good theater… but I have a feeling it’ll be more than just theatrics by the end of the day.”

    “We’ll see.” Lydia stood up and finished off what was left of her mead. “Should probably get started then, hm?”

    As the two Nords left the table, Azhani stood up as well. “I suppose I should just… head back to bed then, yes? Not a very good idea, I think, to… sit around in a bar right now. So, um… don’t, uh, don’t tell anyone I’m here if… if anyone comes looking, hm?”

    “Sure.” Bjorn nodded on his way over to the bar. “You want food or something brought up to you or…?”

    “No, I’ll be fine.” She gave a weak wave, then stopped on her way to the stairs and turned back around. “Or, no, uh… just bring up some tea every few hours, yes? But… leave it at the door, though.”

    “You got it.”

    To nobody’s surprise, the inn was fairly quiet for the first few hours after sunrise – the occasional regular had come in for breakfast, but that was about it. Lydia had gone up in the late morning to deliver Azhani’s tea, just to have something to do, and at her husband’s request had dropped off some of his old spellbooks as well. The Khajiit didn’t seem too enthusiastic about that during their brief conversation through the door, but expressed her sincere gratitude for the additional gift nonetheless.

    When Lydia returned downstairs, she again found something to do just to keep herself busy – she’d grabbed a broom and was wandering around aimlessly, pushing around some dirt from overnight while the Dragonborn wiped down the bar and the kitchen counters.

    “So,” Lydia called out after a few minutes of near silence. “This is it, huh?”

    “What, already sick of it?”

    “Not as such, but I can definitely see what you were talking about earlier.” She shrugged and moved over to lean on the bar. “And I would definitely prefer to be back in action, you know?”

    Bjorn sighed but didn’t stop working. “Yeah, me too. You’ve seen for yourself I’m just about well enough for it by now, so in a week or two when the Argonians get back, we’ve got our armor, and I’ve got that package from Whiterun, we’ll be on our way. Don’t you worry about that.”

    “Oh, hey, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about that package. It’s not the real thing, is it?”

    There was a brief pause while Bjorn stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Lydia with an intense gaze. “Absolutely authentic. Obviously, I took a pretty serious beating last time I fought Alduin. So I started thinking, if I’m going to do it again, I need every advantage I can get. Then it occurred to me… he’s not a dragon, he’s a god. And against a god, what advantage could be greater than one of Kagrenac’s Tools?”

    Lydia had taken a seat while the Dragonborn was talking. “Well, with scars like that I sure hope your plan works out. But-“ She leaned forward in her seat. “We’re going to Whiterun anyways, why not just stop and pick it up while we’re there?”

    “Experimentation, dear.” Bjorn walked out of the kitchen and laid a hand on the bar. “We both know the potential of that thing, and I’ve seen a bit of what it can do. But it’s weaker than the legends say it should be; it’s lost a lot of the magic it used to have. I want to know… is what’s left of it going to do anything to a dragon?” He sighed and shook his head. “I barely hurt Alduin at all last time, so it had better fucking be enough, but it was never meant to be used alone. Without Sunder and Wraithguard, I don’t know if it’ll live up to its reputation. Shit, you’re not even supposed to be able to touch the fucking thing without Wraithguard in the first place.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand. “I’d kill for something like Dawnbreaker, or Chrysamere, or Volendrung, anything. At least those I know work perfectly fine on their own.”

    “So basically you’re going to find yourself a dragon and poke it with a really, really, really old magical crystal-knife, and hope it does something?” Sure, there was a more professional way to phrase the question, but someone had to do something to lighten the mood.

    The little joke had worked, apparently, because the Dragonborn chuckled a bit before responding. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Still going on ahead even if it’s just as good as a regular dagger, of course, but I’d like to try it, at least.”

    “Well,” Lydia said, standing up again. “Never thought I’d say this, but let’s hope we get attacked by a dragon, then.”

    “Hah, yeah. Let’s pray for it.” Bjorn stepped back towards the kitchen, but stopped halfway there. “Hey, you want anything to drink? I could put on some coffee or more tea or something.”

    Lydia put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow, a little smirk on her face. “Well, you sure would like that, wouldn’t you?”

    “Hey, I’m only suggesting it ‘cause it’ll help you stay awake.”

    “Oh, yeah, of course. I’m sure there aren’t any side effects that you’d be interested in.” The sarcasm in her voice was excruciatingly obvious. “But, actually, yeah, I could do with some coffee. And since you wanted a show anyway…”

    Come lunchtime, the inn had become as busy as could be expected, and as usual populated almost exclusively by the handful of loyal customers that kept the place afloat. The coffee had started to catch up with Lydia, resulting in a tolerable feeling of fullness as she worked on finishing a generous helping of beer the Dragonborn had given her to go along with a meal. It was more than she’d normally drink at once, and she knew damn well why he’d seen fit to give her that much. Even so, she was content to finish it and was in no rush to do so – and Bjorn certainly wouldn’t be keen on moving things along too quickly either if it was a show he was after. Even now, he was looking over at her every so often while he told some other patrons his war stories, though at the moment she was refusing to give him what he wanted.

    Instead, she was just sitting there, spun around in her seat so that she was leaning back against the bar while she listened to the Dragonborn’s stories and waited for something to do. The current tale was something about the College of Winterhold and something related to Magnus. Lydia hadn’t been there for it so she found it interesting, if a bit predictable considering what she’d seen of her husband.

    Her beer had run out by the time the dragon priest had entered Bjorn’s story, which meant that was a good enough time to get back to work. So she stood up, slid her mug across the counter to Bjorn so he could deal with it, and stretched. She couldn’t help but notice that he was watching, especially when she froze for a moment during her stretch as she disturbed something she shouldn’t have – but to his visible dismay she regained full control in an instant.

    He was keeping an eye on her as she walked around to his side of the bar, speaking quietly to him as she passed: “Putting on some more tea.” Then, sure enough, she went straight for the kitchen and the set of tea-making equipment that had been set aside that morning – normally an extra cheaper set, but considering Azhani’s request, they’d decided it would be better to have the second one available at all times.

    The Dragonborn did have to turn his attention back to the patrons to whom he was describing in excruciating detail the appearance of the Staff of Magnus once Lydia had passed him, so unfortunately could not see that she was standing a little stiffer than usual while she worked. And for her part, she was already starting to question why she’d figured a large beer was good idea when she still had hours to go. Filling the kettle and having to watch as it boiled wasn’t doing her much good, either. But still she remained strong, showing no signs of her state other than the subtle change in her posture of which only Bjorn would have been able to correctly identify the cause.

    Lydia was able to relax somewhat once everything had been properly prepared and loaded onto a tray, so she now stood more naturally, the only hint of her state being the slightest of distensions in her abdomen, concealed by her apron such that even Bjorn didn’t notice it when she walked by. Or, if he did, he made no indication of it – he just looked her in the eyes for a moment and subtly laid a hand on her rear, letting her walk off afterwards with no comment.

    Not like he needed to say anything anyways, considering her current problem was that she needed to climb stairs, a feat which he surely would have been more than content to watch in silence. Despite her outward confidence, Lydia did feel the need to stop just before the stairs and take a deep breath, shortly thereafter moving as quickly as the ever-growing weight between her legs would allow. Each step momentarily added more pressure, not enough to be critical, but enough to be quite uncomfortable and a rather ominous reminder that she’d have to make that trip several more times before the day was out.

    This time, she reached the top of the stairs without spilling a drop of either of the liquids she was carrying, though that certainly wouldn’t be true the next time. Best not to dwell on that for now though – Lydia moved directly for Azhani’s room once she’d finished her climb, just to be done with this errand as fast as possible.

    Knocking on the door, she said simply, “Tea’s here,” and was met with what sounded like a surprised response.

    “Wha- oh. Lydia? D-don’t, uh, don’t leave yet…” This was followed by the barely-audible sound of light feet on wood, and after a moment the door opened just wide enough that Azhani could see what was on the other side, and Lydia could only see a pair of eyes. “I need a favor. You can, uh… come in for… for a minute, if you want, or…”

    Lydia shrugged after a moment of thought. “Sure, why not?” Then the door swung open enough to walk through, and was closed again once Lydia had entered. She left the new tray of tea on the bedside table, and picked up the old one, turning around with it in hand. “So, what is it y- oh… uh, okay then.” Azhani was standing by the door wearing only her fur, with her twitching tail maneuvered to cover her most-sensitive parts, though she made no effort to cover the signs on her chest of her involuntary arousal. Her hair was loose and disheveled and the room itself was no better off, with the bed looking like it’d been ripped to shreds and clothes strewn about at random. Lydia carried on as if this were normal. “Uh, yeah, what do you need?”

    “Well, two things,” Azhani started, crouching down near the bed to drag a metal pot from beneath it and put a cover over it. She stood up with it in hand and extended her arms towards Lydia as if offering for her to take it. “Uh, I need this cleaned. Would, uh… prefer it back sooner than… than later, yes?”

    Lydia gave a quiet nod, holding out the tray so Azhani could leave her pot on it. Her bladder protested at the thought of what was in the pot, but remained firmly under control.

    “And I’d like these washed… if you don’t mind,” the Khajiit said as she picked a set of ragged clothes out of the debris around the room. “Not… terribly important, but… I usually wash them every day… when I’m like this, so that, uh… so they smell… normal.” Then they were handed over to Lydia, who just let them be draped over one of her arms, save for a more delicate article that went into the pocket on Lydia’s apron.

    “They don’t smell that bad,” she said. “Could just air them out and they’d be fine.”

    “No, trust me.” Azhani’s deep breathing seemed to quicken a bit and she was using both hands to emphatically gesture in Lydia’s direction. “If you were a Khajiit, you’d know. Eh… th-they need to be washed. Every day, until… uh, until this is over.”

    “Oh, yeah, right. Sure, I can do that.” Lydia subtly pressed her legs together as she stood. “I guess that’s why you’re holed up in here, isn’t it?”

    “Yes. I would like to be… able to go out for some air, but…” There was the sound of tea being poured in the background while Azhani spoke, causing Lydia to stand a little stiffer. “I would also like… to not have everyone… think I’m a slut. So I stay here.”

    “Fair enough. Is that it?”

    Azhani, who had moved to sit on the bed with her tail draped over her legs, just nodded and took a sip of her tea, then watched and Lydia left the room without another word and fumbled with the tray to close the door behind herself.

     The trek down the hall and back downstairs was far more tolerable this time than going up, but Lydia couldn’t help worrying about the prospect of having to repeat that journey even once. For now, it was just a matter of walking like a normal person long enough to ditch the now-spent tea set and get outside to deal with everything else Azhani wanted. She turned some heads during her walk, but most of them seemed to be more interested in the clattering of everything on the tray than Lydia herself; they’d look in her direction momentarily then get right back to what they were doing.

    Except the Dragonborn, of course, who had his eyes glued to her from the moment she entered his sight, no doubt trying to find in her something of special interest. He didn’t otherwise acknowledge her until she tried to get behind the counter, only to be met with a hand blocking her way.

    “How’re you holding up so far?” Bjorn spoke in a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of patrons enjoying their lunch break.

    “Don’t worry, you’ll get your show, but it’s not going to be that easy,” was the equally-silent response. “And hands off while I’m working, huh?” The rebuke was loud enough that those seated at the bar could have heard it if they cared, and it prompted the Dragonborn to withdraw a hand that had found its way to Lydia’s thigh.

    With no further obstruction, Lydia headed into the kitchen, setting down her tray and grabbing a brush and something that she was pretty sure was at least somewhat related to soap. Then she shuffled everything around to carry it more comfortably and picked up the pot whose contents she didn’t want to think about right now. Especially not with a constant pressure reminding her that her day wasn’t even half over yet. He’d be getting a show, alright.

    For now, though, Lydia went outside, forcing herself to walk straight and keep upright, headed for the nearest canal. But that was the easy part. Now she had to negotiate herself into sitting down in such a way that she could still do what she needed and not add any undue pressure. She worked slowly, eventually ending up on her knees with one foot strategically positioned to provide assistance if necessary.

    Lydia took a deep breath and looked around to make sure she didn’t have too much of an audience, then quickly got to work. First she took Azhani’s panties out and quickly looked them over – there was a still-damp patch caused by what was certainly not urine, but no other damage – then carefully leaned forwards to get them into the water and use her soap-like substance on them. She worked quickly but efficiently, retrieving them after a short while in a state that was probably the cleanest they had been in a decade. Then they were wrung out and set aside and Lydia took a moment to breathe deeply, glad that her body was no longer compressing itself where it shouldn’t have been and preparing herself to do it again.

    But then it was right back to business, giving the ragged shirt and pants the same treatment – though what they really needed was a needle and thread – before all the clothes ended up in a neat pile just slightly off to Lydia’s side. Then her gaze turned to the little iron pot. Then back to the canal, then the pot again, and back and forth like that for a while before settling on the canal again. Lydia dipped a hand in to confirm that the current would be satisfactory, then resigned herself to the necessity of the task at hand.

    She refused to look at and tried not to listen to what she was doing as the picked up the pot, put the lid aside, and dumped the contents into the canal – everyone threw their trash into these things anyways – and waited for a couple of minutes once it was emptied. She’d ground herself into the foot she was sitting on in the meantime.

    Another sigh was followed by Lydia reluctantly picking up the pot, brush, and probably-soap, giving the inside of the pot a decent lining of fatty cleaning-substance, then submerging the pot and vigorously assaulting it with the brush.

    She’d noticed about halfway through that a spot of unwanted warmth had appeared, coincidentally right around the part of her that her foot was pressing into, but forced herself to ignore it for the time being. Just clean the damn thing.

     Once she had finished, Lydia hastily organized everything she’d brought and stood up quickly – perhaps a little too much so, as she felt a little more warmth where she really didn’t want it, but still she pressed on, forcing herself to continue looking normal for just a bit longer.

    She hurried back into the bar, glancing at Bjorn just long enough to notice the dumb little smirk on his face, still keeping things together, if just barely so. This time she didn’t stop to consider the stairs, heading directly to the top at the expense of what little dry space was left in her underwear. Lydia moved quickly to Azhani’s room, gave a simple knock, and when the door opened she simply thrust everything in her hands over to the still-bare Khajiit and left before either could say anything.

    The trip back downstairs had surely left a mark on Lydia’s pants, though she didn’t dare check and didn’t much care anyways since the apron she’d been wearing would cover it for now. And against all logic and reason, she headed for the bar, leaning against it near an empty seat with her legs firmly crossed.

    Sure enough, the Dragonborn came over, taking a moment to silently observe her with his arms crossed and that grin still plastered on his face. Eventually, he spoke: “Well, now we’re at the fun part,” he said. “Isn’t that great?”

    “Perfect,” was the growled response that only elicited a laugh from across the bar.

    “Hey, if I wanted to hear a Khajiit get mad at me, I’d go talk to Azhani.” He chuckled again and Lydia’s face turned red. “Anyways,” Bjorn continued, “how about some of this, huh? Gotta stay hydrated.” He’d procured a bottle of beer from under the counter and was giving it a little shake.

    Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, knowing perfectly well what he was really trying to get at. But she hardly had a choice, since she actually was rather thirsty and couldn’t exactly ignore that. So one hand disappeared beneath her apron and the other was held up above the bar with her thumb and forefinger positioned to indicate she wouldn’t be drinking much.

    So Bjorn pulled out two mugs, filled one a quarter of the way, and poured the rest of the beer into the other one. Lydia grabbed the less-filled one and Bjorn raised the other in a sort of toast before immediately downing half of it.

    “I’m liking the show so far,” he said. “Not much longer until it gets really good, huh?”

    “For you, perhaps.” Lydia drank slowly, taking unusually-small sips. The hand under her apron strengthened its grip.

    “Well, you’re playing along just fine. You’ve had lots of opportunities to sort yourself out so far, and you ignored ‘em. Very nice.”

    “How do you know that? Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’m just pretending.”

    “You’re sweating.”

    “I’ve been running up and down stairs all day.”

    “You’ve won plenty of fights without breaking a sweat, what’s a few stairs?”

    “Well, then it’s warm in here and these aren’t thin clothes.”

    “It’s about the same temperature in here it was this morning, and you were fine then.”

    “Alright. What if it’s a bad time for me and I’m just acting to get you off my back?”

    “Unless something changed in the last few hours, you’re doing just fine. And, uh, you’d have to be about two weeks early for that to be true anyways.”

    Lydia stared at the Dragonborn with a concerned look. “Okay, I’m a bit worried that you already know that, to be completely honest.”

    “I’ll pretend I don’t, then.” The response was followed by him finishing the rest of his beer. “But I definitely know how to tell when someone’s acting, and you’re not.”

    “Can you really be sure I haven’t just learned what you’re looking for?” She bent ever so slightly at the knees.

    “Yes, because there’s quite a bit you’d never be able to do intentionally. Not convincingly, anyways.” Bjorn put a hand to his chin for a moment, then brought it away to point at various parts of Lydia. “That look in your eyes, the way you’re breathing, what that arm’s doing, that thing your feet are doing. And you can’t fake a bulge like that. In fact,” he said, his eyes scanning her whole body, “you’re hiding it well, but you’re already wet.”

    Lydia looked at him with an eyebrow raised while her legs tied themselves together even tighter. “Is that so,” she said, leaning forward and directing her gaze a bit downwards. “Or is that just what he wants you to think?”

    “Oh come now,” the Dragonborn responded, adjusting his position. “You know it’s true, what do you really have to gain from pretending otherwise?”

    “Fine, fine, you’re right.” Lydia wiggled around a bit. “But it’s not over yet.”

    “Of course it isn’t. But tell you what, I’ll be merciful. I’ll deal with Azhani, and you can take care of whoever’s got a table. That sound good to you?”

    The response was a quiet groan. “You don’t think I actually believe that’d be easier, do you? But fine, sure, whatever. Enjoy the view.” Then she wrenched her hand out from between her legs and walked off awkwardly towards the dining room proper.

    Lydia managed to survive an hour of clearing tables and taking orders without any major complications – aside from most definitely not having proper posture and moving far more slowly and carefully than could be considered normal. Bjorn had decided to deal with the cooking himself, so Lydia spent a good deal of time leaning forward against the bar with her legs crossed, relaying crudely-scrawled orders and giving a clear view down her shirt. Then it was just a matter of tossing stuff onto a tray and brining it where it was meant to go – being careful, of course, to not drop or spill anything.

    The ever-present, ever-growing pressure wasn’t helping. Lydia had to either subject herself to bending forward somewhat or doing a bit of an awkward curtsy to be able to put the trays down, which almost certainly would have announced to everyone that something was wrong. So she took the momentary increase in pressure, still trying to look normal.

    Fortunately, the lunch rush – or whatever could be called a rush by the Bee and Barb’s standards – was starting to die down, but it was alone in this. Lydia’s legs were sealed together whenever she was standing still, one of them constantly shaking or a foot incessantly tapping while she devoted all her energy to not using her hands while people were still around.

    By some miracle, that wet patch of hers had been cold for quite some time, despite her body’s best attempts to change that. She could only hope that it was just Bjorn and nobody else that knew about her internal war, though she’d been attracting strange looks for a while now. These customers had to know something was wrong, even if they’d not said anything.

    And if she thought people were looking at her before, they’d certainly be staring now. There she was, with a tray in her hands, shuffling across the floor to bring it to whoever’d asked for it, when she stopped suddenly and bent slightly at the knees. The warmth had returned in force, and this time Lydia could feel it trailing down the inside of one leg. So, having failed to come up with any better ideas in the quarter of a second it took for that event to register in her mind, she dropped into a sort of kneeling position, the dishes she was carrying clattering as she did so.

    Lydia set the tray down on the floor in front of her, quickly deciding to push some silverware off of it as well, then – hopefully subtly – shoved one hand beneath her apron and into her pants, squeezing herself hard enough to stop the stream. After a moment, she lightened her grip, only to be met with a quick burst of warmth, though nothing more. So she withdrew her hand and wiped it off on her apron, using the other to collect what she’d dropped in an effort to look like that had been what happened there.

    It seemed to work well enough, as when everything was organized again and she stood back up, most people who she was certain had turned to look at her were either no longer doing so, or were some of the handful of people looking at her with concern. These people turned away once Lydia made eye contact with them, though, and she moved as quickly as she could to deliver the damn food.

    The tray was practically dropped on the table, and Lydia hurriedly wiped down all the silverware with a clean cloth she’d pulled out of one of her pockets to reassure the customers that it was fine to use – which they were apparently satisfied with, so she immediately went back to the bar. She laid two hands on it and simply stood there doing a little march until Bjorn came over to her.

    “Just about done, huh?” His question was met with no verbal response, only a glare that would have looked more threatening if Lydia weren’t clearly on the verge of tears. “I mean, look at you, you can hardly walk anymore. There’s no way you’re getting upstairs or anything at this point, so I’d be more than happy to help you here.”

    “Not… yet…” Lydia spoke through her teeth.

    “Suit yourself. I’m not about to pretend I don’t like this, but just don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Neither of us are going to like it if you get hurt."

    “I know what I’m doing.” With that, Lydia forced herself to stand as upright as possible and walk back to the dining room to clean up. Her legs got themselves twisted in some convoluted knot and she’d bounce every time she stood still to get something off a table, but still she kept fighting until one table had a mass of dishes piled on top of it. The warmth had expanded in the time it took to do that, but only slightly. Lydia was still in control, for now.

    Perhaps in retrospect it hadn’t been such a great idea to make one stack of everything she had to carry back to the kitchen. She didn’t intend to use her hands anyways, but once she picked that up to bring it back, she wouldn’t even have the option. The occasional leaks had stopped though, so if she was fast enough…

    Lydia took a deep breath and grabbed the dish-tower, stumbling a bit as it tried to demolish itself, but soon enough that too was under control. So she turned around and, with her legs as close together as physically possible, she slowly worked her way back to the kitchen. The handful of people that were still around were definitely giving her weird looks, but Lydia didn’t much care. She was already trying to focus on walking and not becoming even more wet, so her attention was divided enough.

    She managed to get behind the bar without much of an issue, and though the Dragonborn gave her a concerned look he quickly turned back to the group sitting across from him without saying anything. But with her next step, Lydia froze. A massive jet of warmth had added itself to the wetness down her legs, and she could swear she heard some hit the floor. She knew the rest of the flood wasn’t far behind, and rushed to the nearest kitchen counter.

    The dishes were slammed onto the countertop and Lydia moved just as quickly to the Dragonborn, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around to face her with far more force than either of them expected.

    “Do something,” she hissed. Bjorn just nodded in response, subtly indicating with one hand for her to get down. So she sat on the floor, back against the bar, hoping nobody would notice or pay her much mind. And while she waited for something to happen, she wiggled her way out of her pants, pulling them down just far enough that her apron would cover what was exposed, and then shoved both hands between her legs.

    Bjorn, meanwhile, was in the middle of distracting everyone. “Hey, who wants a free round of beer, huh?” He held his arms out at his sides and yelled loud enough for the whole place to hear. And, of course, everyone came running over to him.

    The Dragonborn cautiously looked over at Lydia, who was glaring up at him with a look that demanded to know what he thought he was doing. But then she broke eye contact suddenly when she felt her hands get wet.

    When a decent crowd gathered at the bar, Bjorn turned around, heading quickly to the kitchen to collect an armful of mugs, including a few particularly-tall ones. He seemed to trip on his way back, causing one of the taller mugs to fall to the floor while he juggled and ultimately lost a second normal one. The shorter mug had coincidentally been tossed to land near where Lydia was sitting, and with the Dragonborn’s next step the taller one was kicked over in that direction as well. Lydia grabbed the tall one with one hand, adjusting herself so it was underneath her, though her other hand hadn’t been removed just yet.

    Bjorn had haphazardly dropped the rest of the mugs on the counter, letting everyone there grab one for themselves while he pulled a few bottles out from below. They were each opened in quick succession and he wasted no time in giving everyone a generous helping.

    Lydia, of course, both understood this to be her opportunity and was out of time anyways. One last jet of her waters had been released into her hand, and continued to trickle through her fingers. As soon as the hand was removed, she gave in entirely, biting down on a dry part of her free arm so as to not make more noise than she already was.

    So for a little while Lydia took long, slow breaths with her eyes closed, only opening them in a panic once she realized she could feel liquid running down the sides of her mug. Trying to force herself to stop, she only found that she couldn’t, so picked up the other mug she had with her free hand, quickly swapping the two – though this of course didn’t last very long either, and once it overflowed too Lydia resigned herself to moving into a bit of a low squat. There would be a pretty sizable puddle on the floor either way, and this way no further dishes would be ruined.

    The only problem was that her auditory cover had gone by the time the first mug filled, as the Dragonborn had run out of drinks to fill. Lydia could vaguely hear him hastily composing some story or another, likely in an attempt to talk over her stream and still-expanding lake on the floor once he’d noticed that he could hear it. She looked up at him in time to see him shoot her another glance and sneak his hand under the counter, procuring a rag and tossing it in her general direction.

    She looked at it for a moment, then picked it up and set it on her lap to keep it from getting wet earlier than intended. By then, her stream had slowed considerably and she failed to suppress a sigh as it turned to a trickle and eventually stopped. Another few deep breaths to collect herself, and she looked up at Bjorn again – the crowd seemed to be under control, so she let herself rise just enough to properly move over and remove the pants she’d destroyed, still trying to remain below the bar so as to not be seen.

    Lydia had to admit, it was a fairly impressive puddle. Some of it was being lost between the poorly-constructed floorboards, but even so it was expansive enough that the Dragonborn had moved over a little from his original position to keep his shoes clean. She looked at the rag in her hand and decided it was definitely not going to be enough, so she shoved it through the string of her apron, letting it hang from the back and hopefully hide the fact that she was half-naked.

    Then she stood up entirely and grabbed a bottle of cheap something-or-other from under the bar, casually dropping it to the ground and watching it break. And when everyone looked over at her, she simply started to back into the kitchen, saying, “I’ll take care of that.”

    She came back with a mop and a broom, first sweeping all the glass shards into a neat pile, then getting to work on the puddle that was clearly too big to have been made by only what was in that bottle – though nobody had questioned her on it. The Dragonborn had walked off just before she started cleaning, then came back a few minutes later and quietly laid a clean pair of pants on a counter in the kitchen.

    He then moved much less discreetly over to Lydia, wrapping his arms tightly around her from behind and leaning in to whisper to her: “Still plenty of time left ‘til nightfall, you know.”

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    "'Eggman's Incredible Interstellar Amusement Park'?" Blaze the Cat read over the sign a few times, gazing upon the visage of the bald doctor with the giant mustache. And more importantly, how this Eggman was the one much less familiar to the feline princess. "So, I've returned to Sonic's world. I don't understand how dimensional travel is this fickle." Despite their different planes of existence, Blaze had been crossing paths with the Blue Blur quite frequently as of late.

    Now, how do I get back? The previous times dimension-hopping was involved, it was because of the two sets of Emeralds reacting to each other, thanks to a plot between this Eggman and her Eggman Nega, and stopping them set everything right. But now... "There's no way Eggman Nega is involved with a dumb scheme like this. Which means..."

    "Who do they think they're kidding?! The future is nothing like this!" And it appeared she was not alone, with someone looking over the large map sign not far from her position, someone she had never seen before, a hedgehog with pointed quills and white fur. An almost Sonic? Is he another alternate universe counterpart, like me? "Hey, there," she greeted, walking towards this stranger.

    The mystery hedgehog jumped up in surprise upon hearing her voice, turning around quickly and extending his outstretched palm. And suddenly, as if in response, Blaze couldn't move. She was held in place, lifted into the air, unable to fight back, only able to watch as this hedgehog realized who he had grabbed. "Oh, sorry about that," he sheepishly apologized, relaxing his hand and allowing Blaze to drop. "Thought you were one of Eggman's goons."

    "No, I'm not," Blaze corrected. "I'm-"

    "Blaze the Cat. I'm aware."

    Now it was time for Blaze to be on the defensive. "Why do you know me," she warily questioned, lifting a hand, ready to ignite.

    "My name is Silver, I'm from the future. There are records of your accomplishments in my time."

    "Wait...from the future?!" It wasn't so much that she didn't believe the concept of time-travel, with all the other powers the Emeralds possessed, but the reasoning behind it. "So what are you doing here? I'm sure Eggman's up to something, but does it really have ramifications like that?"

    "No, that's not quite it," Silver laughed. "According to history, Sonic takes this place down before it even opens, so I wanted to see what it was like. It could have been a really fun amusement park."

    "Oh, so Sonic is here?"

    "Yeah, he and Tails are taking care of things. Said they didn't even need my help, so..."

    "So you've been experiencing the attractions." A pretty lighthearted stance to take in unfamiliar territory run by a known villain, but if there's nothing else to do... "Has anything been good?"

    "Well, the World of Tomorrow is a joke. The future is a lot less bleak than that! Haven't had the chance to look at anything else, but I was heading in the direction of the Asteroid Coaster next." Silver extended his hand in an invitation. "Do you want to come with me? I'm still pretty new to the whole hero thing, and I'd like to learn a thing or two from you."

    Asteroid Coaster? Like, a roller coaster? Oh, anything but heights... Blaze's mind began racing with some sort of excuse to turn the offer down, some way that wouldn't expose her acrophobia.

    Her savior turned out to be Eggman's voice blaring across the crackly PA system. "In the unlikely event of an emergency, please find the nearest escape pod. For anyone not named Eggman, your escape pod can be found back on the planet, still being assembled in the factory."

    Blaze felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "Perhaps it would be better to avoid any of the real 'attractions'. For our own well-being."

    "Yeah, I can see that. I'm sure one of the other parks is...safe," Silver shrugged, which did nothing to ease Blaze. All the hedgehog could offer was running between Blaze and a nearby food stall. "Maybe we should get a snack first?"

    The princess looked the vendor over, very cautiously. I don't know if I trust the food here enough to put it into my body. Yet, even as she wanted to refuse, there was some part of her that disagreed. Namely, her dry mouth. Still, it's been some time since I've had a drink. Just that can't hurt, right? "I'll just take a beverage."

    Silver nodded and strutted up to the counter, laying his elbow on the barrier, catching the attention of the robotic attendant. "Hello, I'll have a...er, a..." His voice faded off as he began looking at the odd items on the hanging menu. "Some Egg Candy, thanks."

    Blaze joined Silver at the bar, instead preferring to make her decision before opening her mouth. "A small Chaos Cola for me."

    "Of course." The robot turned its back, pulling a small box from a larger package on the floor, and putting a paper cup under the spout, where it was quickly filled, stuck a cap and plastic straw on, and both items were handed over to the patrons. "Special offer for customers on the NEGATIVE FIRST day of opening! First purchase is free!"

    Silver and Blaze reached out and took their respective items, slowly and warily. "T-thanks? No catch," Silver questioned, receiving no response.

    Not that this wasn't also on her mind, but Blaze had something else she was wondering about. "This is really a small cup?" Indeed, her drink was on the large side, big enough that she could have fit her arm inside, almost up to the elbow. Once again, now that their transaction was complete, the service robot didn't even register their existence anymore. "Fine. Can I at least get a napkin?" No response.

    "I've got it." A napkin from the back of the stall began floating through the air, passing the unresponsive robot by without an objection, landing in Silver's outstretched hand, offering the paper to Blaze. "Here you go."

    Blaze took the napkin and wrapped it around her cup, putting her lips to the straw and taking a short sip. "So, what is it with that power of yours? Where did that come from?"

    As the conversation began, the two started walking down a path opposite their starting positions. "My psychokinesis? I don't know, I was just born with it. Same with your fire powers, I suspect."

    "You really do know everything about me, don't you?"

    "Everything about your adventures in this world and with Sonic, at least. How you were brought here by your Emeralds and your Eggman, how Sonic ended up in your world for a second adventure, nothing major."

    Good, sounds like he doesn't know about the more...embarrassing portions of those journeys. Cream and Tails don't say anything. "Then I say it's only fair that you tell me a little about yourself. Why do you know Sonic?"

    "He helped me on a mission to stop one of Eggman's distant descendants, with a camera that could trap anyone in its pictures. Ever since then, I've been keeping a close eye on his timeline."

    "A...camera? And time travel? Are things always so weird when I'm not around?"

    "There's a lot of strangeness, no doubt, even if I don't know it. This might sound odd, but I've got this nagging feeling we've met before, and I can't possibly place why."

    Now that he mentioned it, Blaze also noticed a niggling inkling when she looked at Silver's face. "I...I think I know what you mean. Like, we've had this whole odyssey together, yet not. And it's really bothering me."

    "Well, maybe it'll come back to us if we hang out for the day. I'm sure there'll be something fun." Silver looked downwards and shifted his feet. "I mean, if you want to."

    Well, I imagine I still have duties in my home dimension, but...it's not like I have any idea how to get back. Could be worth taking a day off. "Maybe I can be of assistance if I better know what Eggman's up to this time. Let's see what's this amusement park has."

    A smile broke across Silver's face. "Yeah, that sounds good! Let's go!" He began running off, at a speed slow enough for Blaze to effortlessly keep up, even while drinking more of her soda.

    ---------------

    Ohhh...I don't want to imagine how much worse this would be if I had ordered a bigger drink. Blaze had finished her beverage quickly, and as the two explored the park, discovering each attraction more dangerous than the last, the soda had its time to work its way through her system. And now, the consumed Chaos Cola was wreaking havoc on her insides like an enraged water god. Why is it, every single time I team up with anybody, I always need to use the bathroom?

    When the urge first appeared, Blaze had no reason to worry. She wasn't in the middle of the desert or the sea this time. She was in an amusement park, there would be public restrooms and the problem would be solved without incident. However, as time continued to pass, and Blaze kept her eyes peeled, she kept coming up empty-handed. Not a single bathroom in sight. I know Dr. Eggman is evil, but he can't be that cruel, can he?

    By now, her bladder had progressed to a very uncomfortable state. As the two wandered through the Tropical Resort, Aquarium Park (where the vast amounts of water tortured Blaze with the reminder of how she had relieved herself in the ocean last time), the entrance to the closed-off Planet Wisp, Sweet Mountain (which was a short visit after Silver complained of a sugar-induced stomachache after eating the full box of Egg Candy), it was a lot of walking and no peeing. Her steps had become more rigid, her legs would press together whenever they would stop, and an upper fang poked her bottom lip.

    And Silver was still none the wiser, not even the slightest clue that something was ailing Blaze. He had lost his energy and was moving lethargically, not unlike Blaze, meaning he had a perfectly non-humiliating explanation for the cat's attitude. He wanted to be considerate, as he stopped by a metal bench. "Do you want to take a break," he offered, practically panting.

    Blaze could not deny that walking all across an orbiting satellite, all while keeping a steady grip on her bladder, had taken its toll on her energy and spirit, even her trained legs were sore after walking in an awkward posture. The chance to sit down would be welcome, but she couldn't. I haven't seen a ladies' room yet, if there is one, it's in the last park. In Starlight Carnival. I don't have the time to stop now. "I can handle a bit of legwork, Silver" she claimed, slowly pressing her thighs together to relieve a minuscule amount of pressure.

    Silver's face fell and his arms drooped. "Oh, I figured you'd want to rest, with those heels and all."

    That's...a very good point, actually. "I think you're the first to be concerned about that. I appreciate it," she smiled a little, as much as she could given her current discomfort. "But these are my shoes, I'm plenty able to run in these. They're really no concern."

    "Really? Wow, that's pretty cool. Or, maybe in your case, pretty hot?" Silver chuckled at his little joke, and only several seconds later did he realize what he had actually said. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that! I wouldn't say that! Not that it's a wrong thing to say, it's not inaccurate, it's just-"

    "Silver, stop talking."

    "Right. Sorry."

    "Well, we're so close to seeing the entire park, I just want to get it done as soon as possible." And find a bathroom as soon as possible! "Maybe that's how I'll find the way back to my dimension." Or find a toilet!

    "Oh yeah, you just ended up here, didn't you? I used the Chaos Emeralds, so I wonder if Chaos Control can hop dimensions too."

    That's an interesting thought, but now is not really the time to slowly deliberate. "Let's just see what Starlight Carnival has to offer. I have to admit, however, I'm not expecting much, going by Eggman's track record."

    A fleet of airships began lifting off from inside the park, and Silver got an idea. He bent forward in a ready stance, one foot placed further back as his brow furrowed with determination. "Race you to the shipyard!"

    Race? With Silver? I know I'm kind of handicapped at the moment, but...this won't even be a competition. She was ready to decline, but Silver looked so eager, she couldn't bring herself to step on his pride. "Alright, you're on." She started with a fiery boost, rocketing into Starlight Carnival, her last hope for a porcelain miracle.

    ---------------

    Agh...Silver's too slow... Blaze was hardly able to run at her full speed, not without springing a little leak, yet she had still left Silver in the dust, and was waiting by the shipyard, as she had been doing for the last twenty minutes. She was alone, not even a robot in sight, giving the princess the freedom to shift her weight from foot to foot in a little dance, to press her hands against the front of her pants with noticeable force.

    And, in her dash, she had kept an eye out for a bathroom, more than ready to veer off the course and make a pit stop should one cross her path. Of course, nothing caught her attention. "How does this whole giant amusement park not have a single bathroom? I really need to go here!" She began bouncing on her heels, careful to not slip in the bobbing.

    At that moment, as if specifically to taunt her, Eggman's voice blared over the speakers. "Attention, the anti-gravity toilets on this level are out of order. We are sorry for this inconvenience and hope you can hold it for another 20,000 light years."

    Blaze blinked in shock multiple times in rapid succession, stunned into silence. A solid few seconds passed before she could respond. "So not only can I not find a single one of these supposed restrooms, but now, even if I did, I can't get in?!" The implication was enough to send her desperation shooting upwards like a rocket, and she needed to slam her knees together, grip her crotch tightly, and make a few cute squeals to avoid leaking. Her chest heaved and tail swung as she worked up the fortitude to beat out her bladder's waves, shutting her eyes to focus on the imperative task at hand.

    And she succeeded. "Eep!" Mostly. She was a desperate princess, her bladder could no longer be satiated by simple holds and dances. No, she needed to leak, and she did just that. A spurt of hot urine squirted out, rapidly soaking into her panties in a tiny splotch, followed by another, and yet another. Her squirming and shaking sped up as she clutched herself tighter, squeezing the dampness further across her underwear, sticking them to her private parts as she pleaded to hold on. Only now, now that she had been pushed to the verge of an accident, did she get her wish. Only now that she was bursting and in ten times more pain after the tease of relief.

    Now...now what?! Time was running out for poor Blaze, and she had no bathrooms to fall back on. "So...guess it's going to be somewhere weird...again," she sighed. Still, she began scanning the environment for anything that could be a decent toilet replacement, which was a criteria starting to include everything at this point. Plastic palm trees, the walls of the terrain, the idea of simply going off the side into space, each one was a possibility, and she slightly hated it. "Why does this keep happening to me? Ugh, at least I'm alone this time..."

    "Hugh...hah...Blaze, you're...you're too fast..." Stumbling and choking, Silver finally crossed the finish line, only looking like he passed out five times on the way over. "This place is...really big..." He took a few deep breaths, hands on his knees to support him, before he could finally muster the energy to stand up and look at his feline companion. "Um, Blaze...what's wrong?"

    Blaze tried to stand up straight and look dignified, she really did, but she was just too far gone. If she let go of her crotch now, urine would flood out of her in a heartbeat, she had no choice but to continue her dance, no matter how much Silver was looking. If anything, she picked up the pace, running on the spot and crossing her legs like a pretzel probably sold somewhere in the amusement park. She didn't even know what she could possibly say at this point, to save her dignity. "D-don't look..."

    In her defense, the sight stunned Silver speechless too. "O-oh, that's...that's a p-problem...a-and I'm sure that soda isn't helping..."

    "I fear I already know the answer, but you haven't seen any bathrooms today, have you?"

    "Um..." The hedgehog took a few seconds to think, all the while Blaze was suffering under the duress of her own body, silently begging him to hurry up. "None that I've seen. At least, none close enough for you to make it to. I mean, unless you're really hiding some inner strength. Not that I need to know, just-"

    "Silver!"

    "Right, sorry. So, what's your plan now?"

    "It's kind of difficult to have a plan when there simply isn't a path out. I mean, aside from simply doing it anywhere. And I really might soon..."

    Silver reeled back in wide-eyed shock. "Wait, really?! But...you're a girl! There has to be something better!"

    "If you define wetting my pants as 'better', because I don't really see any other options." By this point, Blaze had grown tired of others assuming she couldn't pee outside just because of her gender.

    "Yeah, but...in view of all those cameras? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

    "Yes I'm...cameras?" She hadn't noticed any cameras prior to now, but now that she was on the lookout for them, they started appearing everywhere. On every lamppost, on the corner of every building, even a few flying badniks high in the sky, security cameras pointed and recording in every direction. No matter where she did her business, Eggman could see. "You're kidding me! Everything has to go wrong at on-ah!"

    "W-what is it?!"

    "Leaked! Leaking! Leaking a lot!" A tear began to form on the corner of Blaze's eye, and she almost fell over as she contorted her legs into a weird position to hold as best as she could. No one could fault her flexibility.

    Silver felt his heart drop, watching this capable woman wrestle with herself, clearly at her absolute limit, while he was helpless to do anything for her. She was going to pee herself in front of him, and the most he could do was avert his eyes. "This is always how it is! I want to protect what I care about, but in the end, I'm useless! It's always Sonic who saves the day, while I can't do anything but sit on the sidelines!" In anguish, he gazed into his open palm.

    That's where he saw the glowing cyan ring on his glove, the conduit for his psychokinetic power. "My power..." That was the epiphany he needed, as he extended his arm towards one of the cameras, pouring his power out and closing his hand. Without any visible connection, the camera crushed into itself, sparking and sizzling as it fell from its mount, and a proud smile spread across his muzzle. "Blaze! I've got it!"

    "G-got what?" She couldn't even gather the energy to look at Silver, instead choosing to focus everything she had on her bladder, a necessity now.

    "I can take out the cameras wherever you pick, and you'll have privacy!"

    Blaze couldn't show any proper reaction to the plan, instead gritting her fangs even harder, but that didn't mean she was angry. Just impatience to overshadow all impatience. "Then get going! Fast! Just pick somewhere!"

    "R-right!" He began bolting his head around, looking for the place closest to Blaze where she could hide herself and the unclean actions she was about to perform. Too bad that Blaze had become unable to move in a very open space, she wasn't especially close to any sort of private barrier. The closest she had was an unmanned souvenir stand a real distance away. "Guess that'll have to do..." All of a sudden, he became a sharpshooter, disabling every single camera in that spot in the shadows, plus a few extra because he didn't know what exactly each one could see. It actually went by pretty quickly, but when every second counted, it couldn't be fast enough, it must have seemed like twelve eternities to Blaze by the time Eggman's eyes had been eliminated. And with no other badniks in sight... "Blaze! It's done! You can-"

    As Silver turned to face Blaze with the good news, he was met with an unusual, shocking, and maybe slightly intriguing sight: the princess of the Sol Dimension on her knees, in much the same contorted holding position as previously, but with the key difference of the area of her white pants around her gloves quickly turning a yellow shade, streaking down her thighs, forming a puddle beneath her rear as her tail splashed it around. It was too late, she had been pushed past her breaking point. Blaze the Cat was peeing herself.

    "No, it's not over yet! I can still help! I can still be the hero today!" Using both hands, Silver gripped that nearby gift stand they had been eyeing, tensing his fingers as he took hold of the heavy booth, moving it inches at a time as it scraped across the ground. "Ghgh! W-what's in this thing?!" However, even with this psychokinesis being tested, he didn't falter. "You'll end up behind the cover of this thing, one way or the other, Blaze!" That determination gave him the strength to lift it upwards, and without friction, placing it in front of the cat was easy, and it dropped with a loud thud. His face turning red from exertion and...other feelings, Silver swung to face the opposite direction and covered his ears. "Do it, Blaze!"

    Blaze had retreated into her own closed-off world as soon as her need to pee had grown to be too much to bear, but no matter how deep in concentration she was, there was no way she could miss the crash of a wooden stall less than a foot next to her. "W-what is t-that?" She had also been unable to hear Silver amidst the agony, but regardless, this object appearing next to her, to cover her, was nothing short of a miracle, and she wasn't going to question it.

    With a renewed fire in her eyes, and plenty of warmth in her tights, Blaze jumped to her feet in a squat, clawing at the tall hem of her white bodysuit, yanking the thin fabric down her chest and past her crotch in a mad frenzy. "Ew, the wetness..." Sliding the damp legs down her own, tainting her fur with the moistness as the garment continued to stick at every point it could until they came to a bunched up rest at her knees, was hardly a pleasant sensation. Not to mention the trickles she couldn't hold in continuing to soak her black underwear as they shot out right onto the floor.

    "N-now...my p-panties..." Just one more piece of clothing between her privates and the open air, and she could let her bladder flow with reckless abandon. "J-just...p-pull them...do-dowAH!" One thin undergarment was clearly not enough to convince her body not to pee yet, her pants were off and that was enough. If the princess thought she was leaking a full stream now, she was sorely mistaken, for the gush that followed when her bladder gave up the hold outshone it by several degrees of magnitude. If her panties weren't already drenched before, they were soaked with urine front to back in only a second now.

    And that was just the beginning. Before she could even blink, the decent puddle already beneath her began growing rapidly, rippling outwards with strong waves, with a thick layer of foamy bubbles floating on the surface. The impact of her torrential downpour was enough to force the puddle at the collision point apart, meaning the sound of liquid hitting the metal ground never stopped, was never replaced with pure water noises. Just the deafening crash of a waterfall, with her genitals as the source. A thin haze of steam, befitting a princess of fire, rose off the golden pond, drawing out another layer of sweat beyond the one caused by straining.

    That wasn't even bringing the smell into it. Whether it was an ingredient in the Chaos Cola she had filled up on, or maybe just the time in her bladder giving it an aroma, whatever the case, her urine had a stifling stench, one almost too much for her sensitive kitty nose to cope with. She would have clenched her nostrils shut to avoid the odor, if her hands weren't placed firmly on her bent knees, anything to keep her on her feet as her muscles went limp in the overwhelming relief.

    And what a relief it was. "HaaaAaaHhahahAHhaha," she moaned, her voice cracking and changing scale multiple times in the same breath. It wasn't exactly a "pleasant" release, her bladder was stretched and exhausted, and it returning to its normal size was pretty uncomfortable. Not to mention the whole "soaking her panties as they clung to her lower body, sticking to and tracing the contours of her girlhood and butt" thing. Yet, even with all that, Blaze forced a smile out, letting the tension wash out with the flood. She was in such good spirits, in fact, she didn't even notice the hanging sides of her jacket sitting in the puddle, collecting urine.

    Silver wasn't having quite the same good time. Though he had covered his ears, the seal wasn't tight enough to truly cut off the cacophony of crashes and splashes emanating from behind that stand. Part of it was simple second-hand embarrassment, hearing someone in the midst of exposing themselves, performing an act Silver would almost rather die than go through with. But also, even more prominently, was this new feeling, this tightness in his chest, this heat building on his cheeks. He was...intrigued? Like, he couldn't stop thinking about what was really going down behind that trinket stall. "I really shouldn't be thinking these sorts of things about her...I'm going to hell for this."

    And on the other side, Blaze couldn't really care. She was swimming in a pool of bliss as deep as vast as her pee puddle, in a rare moment, she had let her guard down. All that mattered now was draining herself of her warm fluids, a task whose conclusion was fast approaching. It took some time as she continued to spray, but eventually, the fire hose down below calmed down. Now it just looked like she was taking a normal pee on the floor, if one were to ignore the gargantuan volume already present. "Phew," she sighed as what was once a slamming stream diminished into a tiny trickle.

    Then, after a full minute, Blaze the Cat had no more urine to give. Of course, there was no shortage of drips falling off her underwear, what with the vast, rapidly cooling saturation in the panties, but there wasn't much she could do about that. "I'm not about to leave my wet panties lying around in another dimension." Even if it was her decision, she still winced at the thought of sitting in the soaked undergarments for the rest of the day.

    Too bad she didn't have the same luxury of being able to make a decision whether to keep her tights or not, because boy, were they in rough shape. The white color made the dark stain impossible to miss, and the thin material became almost completely transparent under the wetness, leaving a high percentage of the crotch area visible, even while fully dressed. "Guess Silver's gonna know my underwear preference..." But she didn't have a choice, so up they went, yanking the hem to their snug spot up at her breasts, tripling her discomfort in one simple pull.

    I really don't want to keep looking at my handiwork. Redressed and presentable to the best of her ability, Blaze ran away from the collection of her shame, back out in the open. And to her relief, things were much as she left them, empty and devoid of fun. And there was Silver, fidgeting nervously, stiffly looking the other way. He's freaking out about this. Good, then he probably didn't sneak a peek. "Silver, you don't need to be so tense anymore. I'm finished," she declared, hovering her hands over her crotch and blocking the view.

    Silver jumped like a frightened cat when he heard Blaze speak, scrambling to turn around. "B-Blaze, y-you're b-back!" As he tried to talk, his eyes kept darting around, notably shifting downwards several times. "Oh no...was I t-too slow? You didn't make it..."

    Blaze crossed her arms to hide her stain as best as she could, still leaving a good percentage visible. "Y-yes I did! I mean, a bit faster on your part would have been welcome, but I still made it! You know, mostly..."

    "You really call that mostly? I mean, aside from your pants, there's also your coat, and your tail, and-"

    "Silver. Be quiet." Ugh, I didn't even realize my tail got wet.

    "Oh, sorry. Still, I didn't do my part in helping you, I couldn't be the hero you needed." The hedgehog's head fell in shame.

    Confused, Blaze's eyebrow cocked. "Hero? Silver, I just needed to use the bathroom, I didn't need some grand hero. I mean, I'm grateful for the assistance, but it doesn't really matter, don't beat yourself up for not being perfect about it."

    "It does! Every time I get involved in a fight for what I hold close, it's always someone else who takes the spotlight! Even when I had this chance to do something good, I still fell short! What am I supposed to do if my future is threatened, and I can't save it?"

    Great, I'm the one who wet herself, and now I'm the one giving the motivational speech. Hope he can even take me seriously like this. "You're naive, Silver. It doesn't matter who deals the finishing blow, so long as you never give up fighting. You don't need to do it yourself, you can rely on others and use their strength as your own. That's a lesson I've already needed to learn."

    Silver took a second to think it over, and once it had settled in, he started to laugh. "Let me guess, your first time meeting Sonic wasn't an amicable encounter."

    "Wow, that's an amazing guess. Very impressive, Sil...you just read about it in a history book, didn't you?"

    "Eheheheheh...maybe I already knew." The hedgehog of the future crossed his arms and nodded, mulling over the advice. "I'll get stronger. That way, Sonic will know that the future is in capable hands. That's why I want to learn from you, I already know what you can offer."

    "Well, it's nice to hear someone with so much faith in me, but..." Blaze began scratching her cheek, quickly flushing pink. "If you're going to use me as your benchmark, could you please pretend today never happened?"

    "Of course. I wouldn't hold this against you, I know this is a one-time mistake. History records never say anything about this blunder repeating itself, after all."

    And I've never been happier for history records to be incomplete! "Thank you. Now, if we're done making you feel better..." With speeds expected from the princess that could keep up with Sonic, Blaze crossed her legs and did everything possible to cover her crotch. "This is really uncomfortable. Could you please help me one more time?"

    "Oh! Of course, but...I don't really carry around spare pants. Maybe the gift shop has some...that...fit you? ...yeah, it sounded stupid to me too. Could you use your fire to dry yourself off?"

    "If I wanted to burn off my clothes, sure, and I think I'm exposed enough already."

    "Aquarium Park? So you can wash off?"

    "I'd...really rather not go into water. Maybe if I could find some other way to dry off, I could live with these for the rest of the day."

    Once again, Eggman's voice over the PA system turned out to be just the answer she needed, right when she needed it. "There’s no line at Bake Me Crazy, the ride that simulates what it’s like to be baked like a cake. The ride itself lasts an amazing 20 to 25 minutes, or until golden brown. Not recommended for our guests who are sensitive to temperatures exceeding 350 degrees."

    Blaze and Silver looked back at each other, and Blaze smirked. "I think I can take that heat. Sweet Mountain? Race you there!" Without even waiting for any response, Blaze took off, leaving a trail of fire behind her.

    And that freaked Silver out. "W-wait, Blaze! Oh man, I'll never catch up at this rate." Still, he started running, only able to watch as the princess disappeared over the horizon. "Can my first lesson be how to run that fast?!"

  6. Commissioned by Infecteddeer12

    With thanks to Sake for editing

     

    Warning: Contains story spoilers past the fifth palace

     

    "Well then, we will now begin today's panel."

    The audience of students inside Shujin Academy’s auditorium fell silent as Makoto spoke into the microphone from the stage. It was a tad stuffy for an October afternoon, especially with everyone crammed together, but nobody paid it any mind while they looked towards the stage. 

    “Our guest of honor is Goro Akechi,” continued Makoto, glancing to the podium where the young ace detective resided.

    Akechi gave a sheepish smile to the whole crowd as he spoke. “I feel kind of bad, considering how many people have gathered. I’m sure you all would’ve been happier to have a singer or a mascot appear, wouldn’t you say?”

    The audience broke out in laughter, but Makoto remained stoic. “We’d appreciate it if you could tell us about your experience with the notorious Phantom Thieves. It’d be wonderful if you could let us hear more about your actual investigative process.”

    Her words could not have been any truer, not just for the students but for the Phantom Thieves themselves. Perhaps no one in the audience was more eager to know than Haru Okumura, who sat only a couple rows from the front. As the Thieves’ newest member, she had just as much to lose as the rest, especially now when they had officially been deemed criminals. The public had turned against them seemingly overnight, and the police were hot on their heels with their investigations.

    With them treading such dangerous waters, Haru certainly had a lot to worry about, to say nothing of another recent major event. Only a couple weeks had passed since she lost her father, the CEO of a worldwide food brand and the most recent target for the Phantom Thieves. Whether they were truly to blame for his demise remained to be seen, but it still weighed heavily on her mind, even if it didn’t leave her grieving as much as she expected. She needed to learn the truth of what had really happened, so she would do her best as the gang’s self-proclaimed Beauty Thief.

    “Mmm…” Speaking of things weighing heavily on her, Haru crossed one leg over the other, her frown deepening a tad. In all the rush and suspense leading up to the panel today, she had been fully focused on her duty. A little too much, it seemed, for she had completely forgotten to tend to other important things, namely using the ladies’ room at a reasonable interval. In fact, the last time she had actually been in the bathroom that day was… well, too long ago, if the signals from her bladder were any indication.

    It was a most unwelcome distraction, but she definitely couldn’t do anything about it right now, not when they might finally get some answers from Akechi. Makoto was giving it her best shot to pry something out of him, though he remained tight-lipped in his weirdly friendly manner as usual. The least she could do was give the panel her undivided attention, even if it was more divided than she desired.

    “Mako-chan’s really pressing for an answer,” she whispered to Futaba, the other Phantom Thief sitting next to her. It might have been stating the obvious, but anything to keep her focused on the truly pressing matter at hand.

    “She’s pelting him with questions,” replied Futaba. For a moment, Haru wondered if her friend was doing the same thing to stay on task. Maybe she would have somebody to visit the bathroom with once this was over…

    Haru shook her head. Another distracting thought she didn’t need, especially if it made her bladder send off another unpleasant throb. Her legs tightened in response, and she let out another faint whimper, but quickly tried to turn her attention back to the stage.

    “...If the Phantom Thieves are the ones I know of, I can’t possibly imagine they would kill anyone.”

    Both Haru and Futaba gasped simultaneously. There was no way she could let herself be distracted now, not after such a dramatic and bold line from Akechi.

    On-stage, Makoto was quick to the response. “Your comment just now… Does this mean the police have already identified who they are?”

    “Oh, no.” Akechi frowned. “The police haven’t gotten that far yet, but I have my own conclusions about the true identities of the Phantom Thieves.”

    In an instant, the auditorium was abuzz with excited murmurs and whispers. Haru even thought she could hear Ryuji blurting something out from the railings above the bleachers.

    “He’s lying, right?” she asked, not quite able to comprehend it herself.

    Futaba shook her head. “But if it’s the truth…”

    Haru could feel her heart fluttering in her chest with anxiety, a feeling not unlike the first time she accidentally stepped into the Metaverse itself. So many questions and worries filled her mind, yet all she could do was sit and wait for the answers to reveal themselves.

    “I’d like to ask you then,” spoke Makoto, “Who do you think the Phantom Thieves are, Akechi-san?”

    Akechi looked Makoto right in the eyes. “They’re people you all know quite well. The identity of the Phantom Thieves are-”

    Suddenly, several beeps went off over the microphone. Akechi dug into his pockets and pulled out his phone.

    “Oh, it’s mine,” he said with a sheepish smile, “I apologize for the interruption, but I can’t turn off my phone due to my job. Would you mind if I step away for about ten minutes or so?”

    The excitement in the air immediately turned into frustration and disappointment, but Haru couldn’t blame anybody. Those same feelings plagued her as well, almost making her wish for the anxiety in her heart again.

    She sighed and looked down at her crossed legs. Maybe there was a silver lining to this, she realized. Ten minutes was enough time to get up, quickly use the nearby bathrooms, and be seated before Akechi likely returned. That way, she could give this dilemma the attention it deserved. Being rid of this pressure would be quite nice, too.

    But just when she made her mind up, Haru’s phone buzzed from inside her jacket. At the same time, Futaba pulled her own phone out, and Haru knew it couldn’t be coincidence and did the same.

    She had a text from Makoto in the Thieves’ group chat. “Akechi wants us to meet with him. PE faculty room. Please hurry.”

    “M-meet with Akechi-kun?” Haru’s heart sank. Out of the corner of her ear, she definitely heard Ryuji exclaim something.

    “Wait, what’s going on?” Futaba stared at her own screen. “Is he gonna try using police interrogation techniques on us? Ugh, I don’t have a pushpin on me, either!”

    Haru raised an eyebrow, but decided not to ask. Futaba could be… interesting sometimes. “I don’t know, but we should meet up right away.”

    “Maybe I can just bite my tongue really hard,” mumbled Futaba before putting her phone away and standing up. “Alright, lead the way, Haru!” she declared with a fierce look in her eyes.

    Giving a nod, Haru uncrossed her legs and stood up, wincing a little from her bloated bladder shifting. Only now did she realize her plan to pee during this break would not be happening, but again, she couldn’t complain. Something far more important had come up, and she had a duty to see it through no matter what.

     


     

    And she thought she had a lot on her plate before.

    Haru stood in the hallway outside the auditorium, her arms crossed and head tilted as she was lost in thought yet again. The meeting with Akechi had come and gone, but she was still trying to process what it would mean for the Thieves. Though she hadn’t been a part of them for long, it seemed like every time they tried to find a way out of their problems, they only ended up even deeper in trouble. Once again, all they could do was try and find some way to occupy themselves while they awaited whatever new development was in store for them.

    "Oh?"

    Right as she thought this, Haru rediscovered something that she definitely could devote her current time to: finding the nearest bathroom. Looking around to make sure nobody could see her, Haru placed a hand to her groin and rubbed one leg in front of the other. In all the drama, she had somehow forgotten all about her toilet troubles until now.

    This was nothing new to her; growing up as a trophy daughter for a powerful CEO forced her to learn how to appear perfect and proper at all times. Holding her pee for much longer than she ever wanted was part of this, as even asking to use the bathroom was something her father frowned upon deeply when in the presence of other rich, high-class socialites. Eventually, she learned to hide the pain of a full bladder as well as all the other grief of her upbringing.

    But she wasn't at another gathering full of snooty adults. This was a public school with kids who (hopefully) wouldn’t judge her or her family over this. If she had to pee, there was nothing stopping her from making for the bathroom and relieving herself like a sensible person.

    "Hey."

    At least, there hadn’t been.

    "Hmm?" Haru quickly stood up proper and turned to the person approaching her. She had already picked up the faint smell of coffee and curry to know who it was. "Oh, Ren-kun!" she spoke with a soft smile.

    He didn’t say anything, but his own smile told her enough. It always struck her as funny how he was able to say so much with so little. That’s probably why he was their leader, after all.

    Haru had to admit, despite Ren just being a high school kid, she felt a desire to impress him, unlike all those snobs her father would make her talk to. She had to prove herself capable as the newest Phantom Thief in his eyes, and if that meant holding it in just a little longer, she would gladly bear that burden.

    At least they weren’t going anywhere too important now. The school’s culture festival was just about over, with only an afterparty left on the schedule. It sounded like the sort of casual event Haru needed to help her calm down from today’s drama, and now that Ren was here, there was no need to delay any further.

    “Shall we get going?” she asked. “I’ve never actually been to the afterparty before. It sounds like it could be good fun!”

    Ren simply nodded.

     


     

    “Alright, that was a great performance by the dance club! Everybody give them another round of applause!”

    The MC of the post-festival party’s voice came loud and clear (but mostly loud) through the gym’s speakers. The audience did as instructed, a few handfuls of claps to highlight how much smaller the crowd was compared to the Akechi panel. At least the applause sounded genuine enough, Haru supposed. 

    Truthfully, she found it difficult to focus on the performance, which made her feel a bit down. The way they had moved reminded her of her ballet lessons, specifically where she was constantly told to move as though she were water coursing through a river, gentle but capable of becoming a powerful and unyielding rush at a moment’s notice. Right now, that was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of.

    “Mmm…” she moaned a little, her thoughts having triggered another painful pulse from her bladder. With every signal, her regret for passing up her chance to pee only grew. It was a good thing she stood near the wall where most of the students would not be focused. She feared that their judging eyes might make her need feel twice as bad.

    “Something wrong?” Of course, this still left the one person standing next to her.

    “Oh, I’m sorry!” Yet again, Haru forced herself into a relaxed stance and looked to Ren. “I, er, just can’t stop thinking about what Akechi-kun said.” It wasn’t a complete lie, she guessed. It still lingered in the back of her mind, even if much more pressing matters demanded her attention now.

    “It’ll be alright,” he replied in his soothing voice. “We’ll pull through this like we always do.”

    Haru put a hand to her mouth and giggled, despite her bladder wishing she didn’t. “It feels like nothing bad could ever happen when you say that.” This was the whole truth; even while bursting to go and with a lifetime of incarceration hanging above her head, Haru was more at ease than she would have ever guessed.

    “And now, it’s time for your favorite Shujin tradition: the Student Sharing Special!”

    “Sharing?” Haru and Ren both looked back to the stage with raised eyebrows. “I never knew we had such an event.” Once more, Haru’s curiosity and modesty proved stronger than her common sense. As a third-year student, this would be her last chance to find out; she simply had to stay.

    “Alright, who has something to say? Anyone, anyone!?” The crowd buzzed with excitement, but nobody seemed to respond to the MC’s call. “No? I’ll just have to pick someone then!”

    “Ooh, he’s going to choose?” Haru looked over to Ren. “I wonder who it will be?” She had the silly idea of Ren being the one chosen and barely saying any words, yet still captivating the whole audience. Then again, with his criminal record, that would likely just be wishful thinking.

    “How about that fluffy-haired girl over there!? I choose you!”

    “Huh!?”

    Both Ren and Haru looked back to the stage, finding that some of the crowd were glancing expectantly in their direction. Already, Haru’s heart quivered from the attention, sending signals to make her bladder squeeze harder. If not for her upbringing, she likely would have put her hands to her legs just now.

    Instead, Haru nervously looked back to Ren. “He’s talking to me, isn’t he?” she asked, already knowing the answer. How many other girls in this school had hair as poofy as hers, after all?

    “It’s ‘cause you’re cute,” Ren replied with the straightest face imaginable.

    “Oh!” As if Haru needed anything else to make her heart beat faster, and now she had a light blush to add to her sheepish complexion. She wanted to say something back, but all thought of forming a coherent reply had flown out the window.

    “Come, come. Everyone’s waiting!” The MC’s voice reminded her of the bigger issue anyway. Right after, she could hear some of the students clapping and beckoning her as well.

    Her first instinct was to say no and back out of the auditorium as quickly as possible. How could she go on-stage with all these thoughts in her head? Especially not on a bursting bladder, which only felt heavier with this new stress.

    But as she looked at the eyes of all the students hoping for her to take the stage, the simple word would not leave her lips. Even now as a Phantom Thief, it seemed her new rebellious spirit had given way to her desire to please everybody, if just for this one moment.

    “I’ll… I’ll go.” She lifted a hand to her chest and nodded to Ren.

    “You sure about that?” He tilted his head.

    “I’ll be fine. I’ve had to deal with situations like these before. This shouldn’t be too bad. Maybe even a little f-fun!”

    Haru didn’t quite believe the last line, but turned and made for the stage. She kept a smile on the outside, but it did little to quell the worries within. It especially didn’t help her need to pee, growing stronger with each little step she took. Her hands remained held together in front of her hips as she walked, applying a gentle pressure to help stem the tide, for the little good it did.

    “And your name is?” asked the MC as she climbed the stairs, but his eyes grew wide once she finally reached the microphone. “Wait, you’re Okumura-san!?”

    “Um, yes…” Haru looked out at the audience, their collective gaze focused entirely on her. As she feared, their stares filled her stomach with butterflies, which did her bladder no favors. She wanted to rub her legs together, maybe even shift from one foot to the other, but so many judgmental eyes on her kept them rooted on the platform. The only silver lining was that Ren had taken a seat in the front row, his presence a welcome relief in a sea of emotion.

    To her surprise, the students applauded her, with even a couple cheering her on. Did she have more friends and well-wishers than she knew, perhaps? It was a comforting thought, if not a likely one.

    “U-Uhhh…” She wasn’t the only nervous one on the stage anymore. “I’m sure you’re, um… still grieving,” the MC spoke, his voice lacking a bit of his usual bluster. “My, um, deepest apologies.”

    “Oh, please don’t worry!” She replied. As desperate and nervous as she was, she did not wish this pain on anyone else.

    The MC paused before nodding. “So uh, do you have anything you’d like to share with us?”

    I really need the ladies’ room! was the first thing that came to mind, but Haru knew better. Unfortunately, it was the only major thought in her head at the moment. “Something to share… I have too many things,” she lied, her eyes darting among the crowd.

    “Errr…” The MC scratching his head. “Here, let me give you a question, then: Do you think the Phantom Thieves are really Shujin students?”

    “Huh!?”

    It was the wrong question at the wrong time. Caught off-guard, Haru nearly jumped in surprise. This, unfortunately, had a much worse effect on her than she could have expected. Right as her foot returned to the ground, a bit of urine took its chance to slip through her compromised hold. The faintest wet feeling registered in her mind, keeping Haru’s eyes wide open and heart pounding away.

    Unaware of her little leak, the audience let out a series of scandalous “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”, some of them leaning in so as not to miss a juicy take from someone of such high esteem.

    “I mean, they are, uh… your father’s killers,” said the MC. “We’re all dying to know what Akechi-kun was going to say about their true identities.” He leaned in, having apparently forgotten the definition of tact. “So, are they from Shujin? What do you think, Okumura-san?”

    “Erm…Well...” Haru could feel sweat forming on her brow, her body betraying her underlying panic. How could she even think of a proper response now, especially when she could be on the verge of peeing herself in front of the whole school? All she could think of was how badly she needed to get off the stage right now, before she could humiliate herself in any number of ways, nearly all of them involving staining her tights and undergarments.

    “Please date me!”

    “Huh?” For a moment, Haru forgot about all her troubles in the face of such a bold proclamation. She looked to the person who stood and yelled this, only to discover it was none other than Ren himself.

    “Ohoo!” The MC quickly responded. “Like a hot knife through butter, a proposal cuts through the silence!”

    “W-wait!” Haru looked with wide-opened eyes at Ren’s unflinching stare. Was he seriously confessing to her now, of all times? This couldn’t be for real, right? Surely there was some underlying reason to his outburst.

    “So, Okumura-san! What’s your relation to this guy?” the MC asked above the crowd’s cheering.

    “Th-that wasn’t what we were talking about!” said Haru, shaking her head to hide the growing blush on her face.

    “My, she’s quite flustered! Is this a hot scoop?” He turned back to the audience. “But I’m a gentleman. It hurts my heart to bully such a sweet girl!”

    Somewhere in the back of her mind, the faint hope that she was about to leave the stage lit up. Please let me go now, she begged, I can’t take this any longer!

    “Well, did you all enjoy your blushing beauty? Thank you very much, Okumura-san!”

    While the audience groaned, Haru could not feel more relieved. “Th-thank you very much!” she quickly muttered into the mic before turning and departing.

    If Ren was expecting her to come right back to him, Haru had to disappoint. Stepping off the stage, she made a break for the doors leading out of the auditorium and into the adjacent halls. As the door shut behind her and she was free from all the many stares, Haru finally abandoned all traces of elegance, shoving both hands right into her groin and locking her legs together from the knees up.

    “Oohhh,” she moaned in pain. The stress had affected her poor bladder far worse than she could have anticipated. She had reached her limit, and could not put off her needs any longer. She was going to pee very soon, with or without her consent.

    With another whimper, Haru forced herself to walk down the hall, her goal being the closest bathroom. Just a couple corners to turn and she would be there, free to pee at long last. But with every step taken, she felt her hold slipping away and failure seeming more inevitable.

    Just keep walking, she told herself, One step in front of the other. You have to hold on, you have to… aaah!

    Suddenly, that small wetness from before grew to a frightening size, forcing her to a complete stop. She could feel it on her fingertips, the spurt having gone through her underwear and into her tights, a single drop even sliding down one leg.

    “No, no, no!” Haru clamped her entire body down as hard as she could, pushing her hips back to the point that she was nearly doubled over. Her eyelids shut so hard, she could feel tears trying to push through from all the physical and emotional pressure inside.

    It wasn’t good enough, and she knew it. She could not take another step without giving up the last bit of strength needed to keep it all in. This was it for her; no escape from a miserable fate, only this one would be brought all on herself. “I… I’m gonna…”

    “Haru?”

    “H-Huh?” She could only open her eyes and look to both the voice and approaching footsteps. Not only was Ren here but Makoto as well, both looking full of worry at their pained friend.

    “W-what’s wrong?” Makoto walked up to her, hands reaching out. “Ren told me you weren’t looking good, but…”

    “I…” Unable to form any other speech, Haru’s eyes darted between her friends. While Makoto still contained a hint of fear in her eyes, Ren’s changed to one of epiphany, as if to say “Wait, is she about to…?”

    Their looks were the last thing needed to break her. Haru could only gasp as she felt her strength fully give out.

    It began slowly enough, just a slight dribble spreading throughout her undergarments until they were fully saturated at the crotch. From there, if one were positioned underneath her, they could see a small wet patch suddenly spread out from her tights, like dark tendrils snaking across the white fabric. They reached out in every way possible as they made their way down, covering her thighs, legs, feet, and even her rump thanks to the angle of her body. Even with so much moving within the confines of her leggings, even more shot straight through at the crotch, creating an erratic stream surrounded by broken drops all falling straight to the wooden floor. 

    Such a waterfall of off-color gold inevitably led to a noisy piddle once it met the ground, forming a puddle that did not take long to spread from foot to foot. It was here that all three present lowered their heads and were awakened to the truth, most of all Haru. A rich girl of high esteem was peeing herself in the school hallway like a toddler.

    “Aaah!?” Makoto clapped her hands to her mouth and took a step back out of shock. Ren did as well, averting his gaze so as to give her a modicum of privacy in such a disgraceful moment. Not that it did much good, with both the faint smell of urine and the noises of both pee hitting the ground and the hiss coming from the source.

    Haru couldn't respond, her whole body having gone rigid from sheer embarrassment. All she could manage were shallow breaths, punctuated occasionally with a whimper when she felt the gross, warm wetness taint another part of her.

    Her accident seemed to go on forever, yet it was over as quickly as it began. Her stream died off with only residual drops falling to the large puddle, testament that she had reached the very limits of her large capacity.

    “Oh… Ooohhh…” Haru’s moans were filled with emotion, the relief of having an empty bladder again mixed with the humiliation of it all going into her clothes in front of her friends. She looked with wide, vulnerable eyes at her friends. How was she ever going to explain herself, especially when the verge of tears? "I'm… so sorry…"

    To her surprise, Makoto was quick to gently lay her hands on Haru's shoulders and offer a smile. "Hey, it's okay. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can talk." She then looked to Ren and asked, "Can you look for a custodian? I need to get Haru-chan to the nurse's office."

    Ren simply nodded.

    From there, Haru let herself be led on a walk of shame to the infirmary. Every step felt uncomfortable, from the cold cling of her tights to the squish in her shoes, and the lingering smell only made it worse. She kept her head low, not wanting to even know if there were others pointing and gawking at her. If there were, at least they were keeping quiet about it.

    The next few minutes went by in a blur for her. She remembered entering the office and the nurse not being in, then the embarrassment that was stripping out of her bottoms and scrubbing up with a washcloth. Now, she sat on a bed behind a curtain, her legs bare and clad in a spare pair of emergency panties, ready to sulk in her shame for the rest of time, or at least until her servant arrived with a fresh change of clothes.

    “How are you feeling?”

    Haru perked up and looked to Makoto as she stepped around the curtain. “I… don’t know what to say.”

    “That’s fair. It wasn’t the best question, given the circumstances.” Makoto glanced to the empty part of the bed. “May I take a seat?”

    “Um… s-sure.” Haru scooched over and let Makoto sit down, feeling the mattress sink next to her. She kept her glance affixed to her stained clothes draped over a rack nearby. It was easier to stare at this reminder of her accident than it was to look at her friend right now.

    “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

    “Huh?” This was enough to make Haru make eye contact.

    “Let’s be honest, things have not been easy for everyone, especially not today,” started Makoto, “But even so, I should have reached out to you, at least remind you that we’re all here to support each other.”

    “Oh, please don’t apologize, Mako-chan,” said Haru, shaking her head. “It was my fault for keeping all this bottled up. It’s just everyone had so much to worry about, I didn’t want them to have to worry about me either.” She lowered her head and sighed. “But maybe I wasn’t as together as I thought.”

    Makoto stared at the stained clothes, her eyes zoning out as she was lost in thought. “Well, at least this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to the Phantom Thieves.”

    “I know. Ren told me you all have been through a lot before I joined.”

    “Actually, I was talking more about, erm, this particular mishap.”

    “Hmm?” Yet again, Haru looked at Makoto with a raised eyebrow.

    A blush appeared on the usually stoic Makoto’s cheeks. “Can you promise me that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room?”

    “What are you about to tell me, Mako-chan?”

     


     

    “Y-You didn’t!” Haru stared gobsmacked at her friend, hands covering her mouth.

    Makoto sighed. “Unfortunately, I did. Right on Sojiro’s carpet, in front of all my friends. I let my pride get in the way of my common sense, and it cost me my dignity. Not to mention a good pair of pants.”

    “Oh my goodness…” Haru looked down at her own bare legs.

    “I still have a hard time believing it, myself,” said Makoto, rubbing her head, “But it helped me learn to be more open with the others.”

    “I see.” Haru stood up and walked to the nearby window, her back turned to Makoto. “Um, thank you for sharing with me.”

    “You’re welcome. I hope it made you feel a little bit better, at least.”

    “A little bit. It’s kind of strange, actually.”

    “Strange? How so?”

    To this, Haru turned around, her face sporting a little smile. “I know we’re still in the middle of a tough spot, but for the first time, it feels like we’ll actually pull through it, and not just because Ren-kun says we will.”

    Makoto giggled as she stood to join Haru. “Well, I guess a good attitude is the best thing we can have right now.”

    Haru found herself agreeing on the inside. Today had not gone at all like how she had expected, but in spite of everything, she couldn’t deny the optimism. It wouldn’t be easy, but she felt that someday, she could forget this accident and face the world like a true beauty again.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    (A/N: Before you ask, yes, I've already written about Makoto's unfortunate incident at Sojiro's house here. Also, in regards to the change in how I format my titles, well, I decided I've been writing long enough to quit aping Captain L's format and try my own. I kinda like it, actually.

    Anyway, consider me on a writing break starting now. When will I be back to writing? Whenever I get inspiration again, whether that be from coming up with my own good idea, or hearing a reeeaaaaalllly good commission idea. I'll still be lurking and occasionally posting here and on several Discord servers, so feel free to chat me up if you'd like.)

  7. Today I was so busy so I can’t do my pee challenge. So I will just share the first time I peed myself here. Sorry for the bad grammar.

    _______________

    I was about 10 years old. Me and classmates had to sleep (like take a nap after lunch) at school. I just done with my lunch, got some foods and milk, I also drank a lot of water before because it was really hot that day. I haven’t pee the hold morning, I hated the toilets at my old primary school, it’s dirty and don’t even have doors. So that I was never wanting to pee at school. 

    But that day, because it was so hot then I forgot the true is... water will make me have to pee. And yes... I REALLY need to pee. I lied on the same bed with my classmates, that was a big beg, enough for 5 kids to sleep in. I was at the end of the bed. Everything I did was holding my crotch with both hands. So horrible. My friends were all sleep but me kept shaking to try to hold in. 

    It was like 9/10. I couldn’t  even sit up. Just hold and hold. Then, I just  took my coat, tried to put it right between my crotch to hold but... I peed. I peed on my coat... about 5 seconds and I just tried so hard to stop it. My old school uniform is blouse and skirts so it hard to saw what I was doing at that time.  

    I took out the coat and hold my pee with one hand. Other, I tried to find something else that I can pee in. And guess what... a water bottle of someone need me. It still has 1/3 water in it but.... I had no choice. I tried to get out of the bed, that was a hard time. I dropped about 2 seconds but lucky that I stopped it. Then I took off my panties and started to pee in the water bottle. The stream was fucking hard and it made big pee noise. But I was fine, my classmates were still all sleeping. There were about 20 people in the room ( my bed in the end of the room). The bottle was full but my pee still a lot and kept coming of so hard, I tried so bad to hold in and I did it. I cleaned up some pee on the floor with my panties and coat, then I went out to throw the pee bottle. 

    The pressure was less than before but still.... I needed to pee so bad. I threw the bottle and went to the school backyard. No people in there. And I just lost control and let it go.  The rest of the day, i studied at school like normal but no panties. And... nobody found out that I peed in class.

    That was the first time I peed myself outside... not in the toilet. So panic but I didn’t know why I thought it was so cool and I always want to pee myself after that event. 

  8. This story commissioned by Night Rain

    With thanks to Sake and Biku for editing


     

     

    Red hair. Delicate, smooth skin. A gentle smile with a modest posture. Pinkish eyes holding a soft contentment with the world.

    Even from a distance, Elise could admire Sakura's natural beauty as one admired some well-kept flowers, enough to make her stare for more than a bit. How could she not, though? These diplomatic meetings between Hoshido and Nohr in Corrin's Astral Planes castle only happen every couple of months or so.

    Sitting at a table in a flower garden, Elise sighed to herself. Yep, she liked Sakura. Like-liked, even. She'd had enough time since that incident at the banquet to sort these feelings out, even accept that she felt this way for another girl. Just seeing Hoshido’s fairest princess now filled her heart with all kinds of emotions, but most of all was a kind of happiness she had never felt with her family and friends before.

    Elise had to confess her feelings, no two ways about it. If she didn’t, they would eat away at her until she drove herself crazy. At least, that’s what Camilla told her, and she wasn’t about to doubt her big sister when it came to matters of the heart. But looking at Sakura now, Elise wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to do it. Thinking about it was enough to fill her stomach with butterflies, send her heart quivering with anxiety, and make her body tingle in unpleasant ways, especially at her groin. All sorts of doubts would plague her mind as well: What if Sakura only saw her as a friend? What if she wasn’t interested in girls to begin with? Would they even be able to stay friends after this?

    Elise shook her head, then quickly chugged the last of her tea for courage. Sitting there and letting these thoughts fester would get her nowhere. She needed to get up and do it while the girl of her dreams was still by herself.

    She marched up with dedication at first, rehearsing the exact speech she would give over and over in her mind. But as Sakura’s ear twitched from her footsteps and the princess turned to make eye contact, all of that careful planning vanished from Elise’s mind in an instant. She came to an immediate stop, her eyes going wide and face growing warm.

    “Oh, Elise!” said Sakura, “It’s good to see you. Did you need something?”

    “Um, h-hi Sakura!” Elise’s voice lacked any of the confidence she’d hoped to have at this moment. “I was just here, um, admiring you...r interest in the flowers, yeah! And I thought I’d c-come over and… say hi?” She could not keep eye contact, even if she were told her life depended on it.

    Sakura was no dummy either, already tilting her head with a quizzical look. “Um, are you okay?”

    “No!” blurted Elise, quickly realizing her louder-than-intentional volume and trying to smile it away. “Um, I mean yes! I’m just, er, happy to see you again. It feels like it’s been forever since we saw each other last, you know?”

    “Mmm, it does feel that way. It seems like the time we spend together always flies by, doesn’t it?”

    “Sure does! So..." Elise paused to scratch her cheek and think of what to say next. “Crazy question, but how do you feel about kissing a girl?” No, that’s way too much! “I think you’re prettier than all the flowers in this garden!” Ugh, super-cheesy! Where are you, Camilla? I need your help now!

    “Elise, are you sure you’re okay?” There was that worried look again. “Do you need me to take a look at you?” She lifted a hand towards Elise’s forehead.

    “I’m fine, honest!” Elise quickly took a step back. “But well, I really need to, um, tell you a few important things, and I might’ve, um, skipped my morning meditation, that’s all.”

    “Oh!” Sakura’s eyes widened as she glanced somewhere behind Elise.

    “Huh? W-What’s wrong?” asked Elise, taking a quick look behind her and finding no one. Is someone spying on me trying to confess?

    “Um, it’s nothing.” Sakura nudged a stray bang out of her face “I just remembered that I, um, need to join my sister for our morning meditations. I almost forgot about it."

    Somehow, Elise felt equal amounts of relief and disappointment. "Oh, then don't let me keep you. Go right ahead!" she declared with a smile that she hoped looked genuine.

    "Hmm, but before I go, can we promise to meet up again later? M-maybe in a couple hours?"

    "S-sure thing!" Elise nodded. "Where do you want to meet?"

    "How about the gate that leads into the forest? I've been wanting to take a walk outside the castle, and I'd l-like to have a friend with me." A small blush peeked through Sakura's face. "That is, if you're okay with it."

    “Oh, absolutely! A couple hours from now; I’ll be there for sure!”

    Sakura bowed, and the two parted ways from there. The moment Elise rounded a corner, she dropped her smile and let out an exasperated sigh. Confessing her feelings was turning out way tougher than she thought. She certainly didn't expect herself to turn all shy and bashful like her friend. As cute as it was to watch Sakura act that way, she had to admit it wasn’t quite so pleasant when it was happening to her.

    But as disappointed in herself as she felt, Elise couldn't get too down about it. She would have a second chance at it in a couple hours, after all. However, she absolutely could not screw this up again, for Sakura’s sake as much as her own. It was time to get serious, and that meant she needed to prepare herself. First up: another cup of tea to soothe her mind. That, and it was a  particularly lovely brew, so she couldn't help herself anyway.

     


     

    "Ooh, that was not a good idea!"

    Elise frowned as she stood at the gate to the woods. Well, stood was not entirely accurate. She more shifted and fidgeted, occasionally pacing from one end to the other.

    Despite her best planning and deep breathing, Elise was just as nervous as her first confession attempt. The same doubts from before would still not leave her head, and no doubt Sakura was  probably weirded out from last time. If anything else, she felt more worried than ever, and Sakura being a little late was not helping matters.

    This was not even getting into the other problem that had arisen, the product of having a second and even third cup of tea. In her worry over her Sakura dilemma, Elise had completely neglected an important part of her morning rituals. Enough had filled her bladder to send off one unpleasant throb after the next, doubling her worries.

    Stupid Jakob, why does he have to make such tasty tea? Elise put one knee over the other to suppress another wave, looking around to make sure no one saw her potty dance. She couldn't confess to Sakura, not with crossed legs and a major risk of soaking her bloomers like she did at the dinner. Problem was, she didn't know if she had enough time for a quick potty break. The nearest bathroom was a couple buildings away, and she didn't want to be absent when Sakura showed up.

    Her eyes then drifted towards a set of well-kept bushes on both sides of the gate. She knew it was wrong to think about it, but the idea was there. Just a quick little squat and her problem would be solved. It's what Sakura had to do back then and what Elise would have done if her holding strength hadn't failed her so spectacularly.

    That party… her thoughts kept leading her back there. Why wouldn’t they? It was the night Elise realized that her feelings for Sakura were different than for the rest of her friends and family. However, it also made her think of that one moment before that, the first time she and Sakura relieved themselves together. Here they were about to head into the forest where it happened, and Elise was in dire need of a tinkle. She was beginning to realize that fate had a strange sense of humor sometimes.

    But back to the matter at hand. Elise’s hands drifted to her skirt while she eyed the bushes. If this was what she needed to do to ensure a successful confession, she would not hesitate. At least there wasn’t anyone nearby at the moment...

    “E-Elise?”

    “Hah!?” She jumped in place at the voice right behind her, but quickly turned around with a strained smile. “Oh, Sakura! Y-You made it,” said Elise, trying to get her breathing - and her bladder - under control. She considered the fact that nothing had escaped her groin to be nothing short of a miracle.

    “Um, s-sorry if I startled you,” replied Sakura, “I h-had to stay a bit longer to m-make sure everything was just right. I hope you can forgive me.”

    “Eh-heh, it’s okay.” Elise’s gaze drifted back to the bushes, which no longer looked so inviting in the presence of her crush. “I was just, er, taking in the fresh air for a moment. I get lost in it sometimes, you know?”

    “I suppose so…” Sakura’s eyes followed Elise’s to the shrubbery as well and the faintest hint of concern appeared on her lips.

    Elise dreaded the answer, but asked anyway. “S-something wrong, Sakura?”

    “Mmm, N-no, it’s nothing,” she replied.

    “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want. Maybe we’ll try again later tonight or tomorrow?” Elise felt like a bit of a coward for trying to back out, even if it was supposedly for her friend’s sake.

    To this, Sakura put on a smile. “I’m f-fine. This is something I’ve been w-wanting to do. I think it’ll help me out, anyway.”

    Help her out? Elise felt her concern rising, but it paled in comparison to the desires of her heart and bladder. “Okay, if you’re ready to go, then I am too! Shall we?”

    Sakura nodded. “Let’s go.”

    Both girls turned and departed through the gate, Sakura walking just in front of Elise. The endless fields of lush trees and plants entered their view, the faint rustling of leaves accompanying the birdsong overhead. Unique plants not found anywhere in Hoshido or Nohr sprouted all over, making for a peaceful and awe-inspiring sight.

    Sadly, the natural beauty of these woods was the last thing on Elise’s troubled mind. Though she was right behind Sakura, her fake smile dropped to a frown as she took one last look at the bushes that could no longer serve as her emergency bathroom. To say this was not how she had planned on her big confession going would be an understatement. A panicky heart, uncooperative mind, and now a bursting bladder on top of it all? Suddenly, this one moment of stage fright felt more insurmountable than any of the battles from the war.

    She knew of the obvious solution: just tell Sakura she needed to squat behind a tree and make a little water. It would take care of one problem at least. Unfortunately, Elise could not even bring herself to muster those words. Not only were the nerves getting to her, but those pesky doubtful thoughts discouraged her as well. What would it look like if Elise stopped to pee, then came forward with her feelings before even having the chance to wash her hands? That was no way to confess; it had to be a perfect, convincing display of how someone genuinely feels for another. There was also the slight chance that Sakura would need to go sometime during the walk as well, and they might even have to squat and hold hands together like all those times long ago. As nice as it was to have a moment like that, she knew it always took a lot for Sakura to pee next to another girl. Elise certainly didn’t want to force so much on her so quickly.

    Yet again, Elise felt disappointed in herself, but she would just have to wait for another opportunity, both to pee and to come clean. Maybe it’s for the better, she thought. Sakura looked pretty concerned with other things, anyway. There was a faint but certain uneasiness to her walk. Not only  was it a bit slower than normal, but it had a hint of stiffness to it.

    For a moment, Elise had to wonder if she was the only one suffering from an overfilled bladder, but that would be too perfect. Sakura just had to be tired or something. Besides, the tension in Sakura’s body was nothing compared to Elise’s. She kept her hands together over the hem of her skirt, a gesture combining both her nervousness and urge for relief. Her teeth idly nibbled on her lower lip, and she occasionally let off a faint whimper with each throb from her groin. For her, this relaxing nature walk was going to be anything but.

    "W-whoa!"

    Especially if she didn't keep an eye out for stray roots.

    Elise stumbled forward, frantically waving her arms in a desperate attempt to balance herself. It was all for naught, as she felt herself falling forward, having just enough time to cover her face before she hit the dirt with a thud.

    “E-Elise!?” Sakura’s hands went to her mouth.

    “Uugh…” Elise groaned as she slowly pushed up onto her hands and knees. Great, now I’m just like Arthur, she chided herself, Could this get any worse?

    Her eyes shot open immediately after, for she realized it already had. First, with her short dress and rigid hem, Elise knew she was giving Sakura and the forest behind her a good look at her black bloomers. Worse than that, she became very aware of an unwanted wetness pressing against her groin, faint but frightening all the same. Her bladder had taken advantage of her momentary gap in defense, letting loose a quick spurt when she had smacked into the ground.

    “Are you o-okay?” Sakura knelt down to her rigid friend.

    “Yep!” Like a bolt of lightning, Elise shot right back up to her feet. "Just a little tumble there, n-nothing to worry about, hee hee!"

    Sakura gave her an unconvinced look as she stood back up, the corner of her mouth wincing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? That looked like a hard fall.”

    In truth, it had hurt a bit, and now Elise had to deal with pain in other parts of her body than her bladder. “Of course I’m sure! Abso-posi-lutely!” she tried to put on her best fake smile despite all the pressure.  “Now what do you say we c-continue our little walk? J-just you and me and all the birds and trees and-”

    “Elise.”

    Elise’s babbling came to an immediate end. It was rare for her to hear Sakura speak with such an authoritative tone, even rarer for it to be directed towards her. It reminded her of the way Xander spoke to her before sitting her down for a serious talk. “Y-Yes?” she asked with a flat face.

    Sakura’s expression was stoic and serious. “I know what’s bothering you.”

    Just when Elise thought she couldn’t worry any harder. Her heart skipped several beats and her breath caught in her throat. It felt like the agonizing pressure spread from her bladder to her entire body, like she could explode in a tidal wave of emotions at any second. “Y-you… know?” she mouthed.

    To this, Sakura slowly nodded, closing her eyes. “I had been wondering about you since the dinner. I could see it in your eyes, how full of worry they are every time you look at me.”

    Of course Sakura would figure it out. Only now did Elise realize that her friend’s concern for others would tell her everything before Elise could. Still, it did little to quell the storm inside. How long had Sakura known about her feelings? Was she about to be turned down before even getting the chance to confess? Would they even still be friends after this? All these questions flooded her mind, but she couldn’t put any of them into speech with her throat as tight as it was.

    “You’re my best friend, Elise,” she continued, opening her eyes again. “I don’t like s-seeing you b-bottling up your feelings like this. All I want is for you to be happy.”

    The damp feelings of tears welling up visited Elise’s eyes. “S-Sakura…” she started, “I’m s-so sorry. I n-never wanted to risk our f-friendship like this, but I...” she lowered her head, the first tear falling from her eye.

    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sakura’s hand reach out to hers. Even through a glove, its soft warmth kept her from losing complete control of herself, like a soothing anchor in a tumultuous sea.

    “It’s okay,” came Sakura’s soft voice. “I know what I have to do, for the both of us.”

    Elise felt more fragile than the most brittle of glass as she lifted her head looked into her friend’s eyes. She could see the sadness in Sakura’s eyes, as though there was a part of her that didn’t want to do whatever would come next. However, there was an equal amount of determination within, and Elise knew that she would carry it out no matter what.

    For a moment, it was like the whole world stood still as Elise waited. The surrounding forests and the noises within faded away into nothingness. All Elise could see was her friend’s lips, and all she could hear was her own heart pounding.

    Then, Sakura’s mouth finally opened. However, no words came out, only a slight, shaky intake of air. Sakura’s hand squeezed her own for an instant as well. Elise had a brief thought that maybe she had trouble getting the words out herself.

    But another noise quickly pulled Elise’s attention. A very faint sound of something falling onto the grass below them, made audible only by it hitting a stray leaf. Elise had an idea of what that noise was, and it frightened her to no end.

    No, not here, not now! Her gaze immediately jerked downwards, afraid to see a waterfall happening between her legs. She couldn’t even feel her bladder at this point, such was her mental state.

    She saw it: a yellow-tinted water falling in scattered drops and creating a small patch in the dirt. What shocked Elise the most, however, was that it was not coming from her own legs.

    “H-Huh?” She couldn’t comprehend it at first. It had to have been a strange dream. But the longer she looked, the longer she couldn’t deny it: Sakura, Princess of Hoshido and the girl she loved, was wetting herself in front of her.

    It was no small accident, either. Within seconds, the small drops became a sprinkle, her pee glistening in the sunlight as they made their way to the earth any way they could. Unfortunately, this also included running down Sakura’s legs, where her bare skin gained a gleam. Her long white socks gained the opposite, a series of dark trails running down the insides of her legs, all the way to her feet and joining with the puddle between them. Perhaps most shocking of all, her free hand went to her skirt and pulled it upwards, revealing her red panties and the wet patch growing ever larger at the crotch, making it cling to her in a way that formed an improper outline around her most personal place.

    "S-Sakura…" Elise breathlessly muttered, still not entirely able to comprehend what she saw. Her eyes darted back up to learn more, but it only left her more dumbfounded. Sakura was clearly upset; her breath shallow and ragged, her cheeks burning red, and eyes growing shiny from holding back her tears. However, that fire in her eyes was still there, even as she soaked her entire lower half, perhaps staining her socks and underwear irreparably.

    Sakura had wanted to do this; there was no other explanation for such a demeaning display. This revelation only raised more questions in Elise's mind, and she couldn't resist asking her, in the best way her overwhelmed brain could: "But… why?"

    To this, Sakura let go of Elise's hand and wiped a tear from her own eyes. "I… I never forgot about y-your, erm, accident at the dinner, and how upset you were. I was worried you s-still weren't over it, s-so I wanted us to be equal again."

    Sakura looked down at her dwindling stream and the mess it had made. By now, the puddle had grown to reach both feet, and both girls could smell her urine, sharp and unpleasant.

    "You… did this for me?"

    She nodded and gingerly lowered her skirt, hiding her soaked smallclothes from view again. "You don't have to be so worried around me anymore. Now I'm just l-like you." Sakura offered a small smile, a sincere warmth against a face full of embarrassment.

    Just when Elise thought she was already full of emotions, a new one emerged: guilt. "Oh, Sakura! You didn't have to do that!" She looked down at the grass. "I wasn't still upset about my accident. Er, maybe a little, but it wasn’t on my mind at all when I was looking at you today!"

    Now Sakura was the bewildered one. "You weren't? But then…"

    Elise could see the worry growing on Sakura's face, the dreadful thought that she had just humiliated herself for nothing. This wouldn't do; if she didn't find a way to soothe Sakura's worries, her friend might be the one leaving these woods in tears.

    "Hah!?"

    A painful throb gave Elise her answer. In all the drama, she had completely forgotten her dire need to tinkle, even when watching Sakura wet herself. There was no ignoring it any longer now; she could feel her hold slipping away by the second. She had maybe a few moments before all her pent-up piddle would come out, giving her smallclothes as much of a soaking as Sakura had done hers.

    But maybe just this once, having an accident might not be all that bad.

    “Elise? W-what’s wrong?” Sakura leaned in, her worry turning towards her friend.

    To this, Elise closed her eyes, offered a weak smile, and responded with a soft “Oops!”

    Her hold fully gave out in the very next moment. Elise’s blush grew deeper as she felt her bloomers grow very warm and very wet, very quickly. A scattered stream of yellow fell from beneath her dress while several trails ran down her pale legs and into her high boots.

    All those unpleasant sensations - the small tinkling noises, the way her clothes clung to her skin, the rapidly-cooling wetness, the sharp stench of pee - it was like Elise was back at the dinner all over again. There was one big difference, however: she didn’t feel like bawling her eyes out this time. Instead, she let out a shaky sigh, conveying both her embarrassment at peeing herself as well as the relief of finally ridding herself of a painfully-bloated bladder.

    Opening her eyes, she found Sakura staring wide-eyed at Elise’s lower half, her hands clasped over her mouth. “Oh… Oh no!” she squeaked out. “D-did you need to go all this time!?”

    Elise nodded. “Y-Yep. I just didn’t w-wanna say anything because… I really wanted to tell you something, but I was s-super nervous.” Even Elise was surprised at how the words came out so easily now, even while urine fell out of her just as effortlessly. “B-but look!”

    Elise surprised herself again by grabbing her skirt and lifting it up to show off her soaking bloomers and the exact source of her pee. While the black color made it difficult to see a wet patch, one could still see how it clung around her groin, forming an outline that her retainers would be horrified to see her showing off.

    “Tee-hee-hee, now we’re really equals!” Elise declared without shame as her piddle petered out. When all was said and done, her puddle was as big as Sakura’s, reaching from one foot to the other.

    At first, Sakura didn’t move at all, but she eventually lowered her hands and smiled. “I… guess we really are,” she said, punctuating with a giggle that sounded like music to Elise’s ears.

    “Yep!” Elise dropped her skirt and stepped out of her puddle. “Now what do you say we head back and get cleaned up? I know a bath sounds really good to me right now!” She offered her hand to Sakura.

    “Mmm, I’d l-like that very much.” She gingerly took Elise’s hand, their fingers weaving together.

    The two set off back towards the castle, leaving their puddles to evaporate and absorb into the dirt. Elise winced a bit at how cool her legs and elsewhere felt as she walked, but it was hard to get worked up over it. After the emotional ride she had been through, Elise felt strangely calm, like she no longer had to worry about anything bad anymore, especially not when she was holding the hand of the girl she desired.

    “Um, Elise?”

    “Hmm?” Elise looked over to a blushing Sakura. “What is it?”

    “Y-you said you had something you w-wanted to tell me. Could I ask what it was?”

    “Oh, that!” Elise scratched her cheek. “Um, can it wait until after the bath? I think it’s something best said in clean underwear, you know?”

    “Oh, of course! Whenever you want.”

    “Hee-hee, don’t worry,” she said, giving a smile as big as her heart. “I’ll definitely tell you soon. That’s a promise, and I never break my promises, especially not with my best friend!”

  9. Commissioned by Dustin-James Lee

    With thanks to Sake, Biku, RowletForSenator, and Phoenix (lordbardak) for editing

     

    (Note: Contains explicit mention of underaged genitalia and peeing... like, a lot of peeing. Reader discretion advised)

     

     

     

    Today could not have been a more perfect day to walk through the forests of the Hoenn region. Sunny skies, fair temperature, and a pleasant breeze kept people and Pokemon alike invigorated in their travels. Indeed, it was not an uncommon sight to see a pretty Pokemon or two going about between the trees, whether they were looking for food or just wanting to explore the world at their own pace.

    May, the novice Pokemon trainer and contest competitor, certainly kept her eyes on the woods as she walked along the trail with her friends. However, she wasn’t just looking for a new Pokemon to catch and train, but also for a little more personal reason.

    Ugh, I have to pee, she thought with a frown, a hand idly resting near her groin. Her other hand held a tall water canteen, almost empty from the long walk they had been on. Even in the sun, enough time had passed for that water to make its way into her bladder, and now a dull throb kept distracting her from enjoying the walk.

    May let out a quiet sigh. The next town was still about a day away, and there wouldn't be any bathrooms to make use of along the way. No, she'd have to squat behind a tree or bush, which was not something she was looking forward to. She'd done it plenty of times already, ever since her mom first taught her how when she was little, but squatting was just a pain in the butt for her. She didn't like the strain it put on her legs, and it always carried a risk of something going wrong, like losing balance and falling on her rear, or getting caught by a wild, aggressive Pokemon. She didn't even want to think about if a boy saw her with her shorts down.

    Like it or not, she was gonna have to answer nature's call in its domain soon. Might as well take care of it sooner rather than later, she figured. Coming to a stop, May opened her mouth to speak.

    "Uh, hey guys?"

    That wasn't her. Instead it came from Ash Ketchum, the boy walking behind her. May, along with her brother Max and the rookie breeder Brock, turned around. There was Ash, with a hand between his legs and one knee rubbing against the other, carrying a nervous smile. His Pikachu rested on his shoulder, also looking a bit embarrassed at his owner.

    “Could we maybe stop for a minute? I gotta go again!” he said, his eyes shut.

    A bead of sweat ran down everyone’s head. Business as usual with Ash, huh? May thought to herself.

    “You could’ve asked us anytime if it’s that bad, you know,” said Brock.

    “Sorry, I was so busy keeping an eye out for wild Pokemon, I wasn’t paying attention!”

    “It’s a shame we can’t teach him the Endure move,” said Max with a sigh.

    May giggled a bit at the joke. “Well, I can’t blame him. I could use a little pit stop, myself,” she said, giving a little wiggle to her hips.

    “I see…” Brock looked at May more intently than usual. This stare was quickly broken by a glare and growl from Max. “Uh, then let’s take a break! Guys on one side of the road, girls on the other?”

    “Works for me!” Ash was quick to depart for the trees, still holding onto himself.

    “Well, if everyone else is stopping, I may as well too. I mean, I could have held it for a while, but still,” said Max, following after Ash. There was a noticeable stiffness to his walk.

    May kept a close eye on Brock as he walked into the woods as well, making sure he was fully out of sight. Once that happened, she placed a hand to her groin, now that no one was around to watch her squirm a little.

    Alright, let’s get this over with, she thought, turning to the woods behind her. She stepped forward, only to immediately come to a stop before walking into a bush of poisonous leaves. “Eep, close one!” She backed up immediately and looked for another way around. Unfortunately, this plant was notorious for growing in large batches, and there seemed to be bushes of the stuff everywhere on her side. Even if she found a detour around, she didn’t trust that there wouldn’t be more out of plain sight. That was the last thing she wanted near her exposed legs, rump, and “Little Shellder” as her mom called it.

    With a sigh, May turned around and walked into the boys’ side of the forest, where not a single poison bush could be seen. She didn’t like the thought of being exposed around them, but if anything, she could trust Max to keep a tight rein on them. Besides, as long as she headed in at a different angle, there would be little chance they’d bump into each other.

    Or so she thought. As she passed a tree, May noticed some colors contrasting with the greens and browns of the woods in the corner of her eye. She immediately looked, hoping it would be a new Pokemon, but instead found something very different.

    Standing with their backs angled towards her were Ash, Brock, and Max, all three in the process of relieving themselves. She could see their streams, steady and uniform like a Mudkip’s Water Gun except more yellow, leaving from between their legs and making all kinds of noises as they fell into a bush, scattering the liquid everywhere. Ash looked relieved as expected, but Brock was smiling too, and especially Max seemed happy with how much he was finally able to let out. Even Pikachu got in on it, standing on his hind legs and tinkling onto a tree bark, his head held up and a long “Piiiiii~” escaping his open mouth.

    May’s face went red instantly. This was not a sight she was expecting to see today. Perhaps the crazier thing, however, was that she didn’t want to look away. Despite growing up with Max, this was the first time she had ever seen a boy peeing… and they were standing up. Did they really not need to squat down like she did, at least for going number one? It looked so effortless, with practically zero chance of falling over or getting a poison leaf on their place down there, which she thankfully couldn’t see from here. If only she could do something like that…

    Wait! It was like a Torchic used Flash to light up something inside her brain. She didn’t know what boys had, but who really said she couldn’t pee standing up too? Maybe she needed to take an extra step or two, but if there was even a chance she could make it work, then it was definitely worth trying.

    And what better time to test it out than now? Watching the boys relieve their bladders made her own throb a little harder, reminding her of her original reason for coming here. Putting her legs together, she snuck away and let the boys finish up by themselves. She didn’t stop until she had put more than a few trees and bushes between them; they would practically have to be right on top of her to catch what she was gonna do.

    Her privacy secured, May had to wonder exactly how this would work. She definitely lacked whatever boys had to aim it forward. The only way she could probably shoot it out like that was if she was leaning back on a log with her legs spread wide and underwear totally off. No, it was gonna come out straight down, which meant she needed to have absolutely nothing in the way for that.

    May took one last look around for any Pokemon or people, her gloved hands moving up her mini-skirt and other her shorts. Satisfied with her privacy, she hooked her fingers around the waist and pulled both her shorts and underwear down to her ankles. She then lifted one foot out and rotated them so that her legwear rested on the outside of her other foot.

    Standing back up, May lifted her skirt from the sides, revealing her bottom and “Skitty” to the forest around her. Looking down at it, she felt a little weird letting it air out like this, even somewhere she couldn’t be seen. Still, she could feel the urine just inside begging to be let out now.

    So… is this all I gotta do? May wondered as she glanced from her groin to the ground below. It seemed simple enough; with her feet at about shoulder-width, gravity would take care of it for her. Maybe her shoes would get a little bit of splatter, but that would wipe off easy enough. Still, it was probably better to start things slow.

    May took in a small breath as she gradually lowered her hold, like a faucet slowly being turned on. A soft glint could be seen at the exit before the first drops, tinted with only a hint of yellow, fell through the air, hitting and almost immediately soaking into the dirt below. Another little dribble followed after, this one adding to the tiny damp patch.

    Okay, so far so good. May had to admit, this risky way of piddling was working better than she expected. The only part of her that had gotten wet was the one place she knew would have to be wiped anyway. A little smile grew on her face. Maybe this was gonna be easier than she thought.

    But if she just kept it to a tiny trickle, she’d be stuck here forever. Her body seemed to agree, as she felt her muscles relaxing further, letting more urine pass through. A little tingly feeling, something she usually got if she had to go fairly badly, radiated from her groin, and May closed her eyes while deciding to express her relief.

    “Haaahh… Aaah!?”

    Her eyes shot open as she quickly felt the one thing she didn’t want to feel: warm and wet.

    May looked down at her stream and her heart immediately skipped a couple beats. Her pee was now coming out at a strong force, but not at all like the steady stream she wanted. Droplets flew out at all angles, and a trail ran down each leg, leaving a gleam in the sunlight. She could see plenty of it flying off the puddle growing between her feet, landing on her socks, shoes, and even her shorts and undies.

    “Ah, no no no!” she cried out, her arms flailing at her sides. She tried to clench herself shut, but it wasn’t happening, not with her pee already leaving at full force. In her panic, May tried to buck her hips back and forth, hoping to somehow direct the stream a little. If there was any difference, it was that it flew forward a bit between jerks, but otherwise stayed just as messy.

    May came to a stop as the futility of it finally dawned on her. This was a failure, no two ways about it. Her legs were soaked, shoes and socks felt gross, and even her pulled-off panties weren’t spared. As her spray slowed into a little tinkle and then into a stray drop or two falling off, May let a frown come on and her upper body hunch over in defeat. “Aw, man…”

    Shaking her head in disbelief, May grabbed her fanny pack and pulled out several environmentally-friendly tissues, then went to work wiping her lower body down. She got it all off her skin, but there was little she could do for her clothes at the moment. Her only hope was that there would be a river soon for her to wash them in private, and that some of her cosmetics could mask the faint smell of urine.

    Faced with such an embarrassing moment, May wondered if this had been a good idea in the first place. She shook that thought out of her head in the next second. Whenever she lost in a Pokemon battle or contest, she knew that getting mopey and beating herself up didn’t solve anything. The best thing was to pick herself up, see what she did wrong, and try again. Why wouldn’t that be the case here? It had worked at first, surely there was a way to guarantee a successful standing pee. She just had to figure it out for next time.

    Alright! Next time, I’ll pee just like a boy! She mentally declared while putting her foot back through her undergarments, yanking them back up with a determined look. Said look quickly changed to one of mild gross-out.

    Ew, gotta change into my other clothes next chance I get!

     


     

    “Ah, at least I’m out of those shorts now.”

    May crawled out of her tent, looking a bit tired from all the walking she had done that day. The setting sun put an orange tint on her spare clothes: a sleeveless, reddish top with a green bandanna, white gloves, green belt, and a different pair of shoes. It was a bit much to completely change her outfit, but even out in the woods, she still couldn’t deny her sense of fashion.

    The faint smell of something delicious perked her up a bit. She looked at the campfire to find Brock in the middle of cooking some stew, with Ash and Max eagerly awaiting the meal to come nearby. Hope I can get at least one bite in between all these bottomless stomachs!

    “A pleasant day on the trail and Brock’s cooking on top of that?” she said while walking up to them. “I’m starting to feel a little spoiled today!”

    “Is that why you decided to change your entire outfit?” asked Max.

    “Um, I…” May put on a nervous smile and her hand behind her head. “Er, yes! I just wanted to, um, dress for the occasion! You know, since we don’t get to eat Brock’s cooking that often!”

    “But we just ate some of his cooking a couple days ago,” said Ash.

    “Yeah, and you didn’t dress special for that, either,” added Max.

    Shoot, why do their brains still have to work on an empty stomach!? May’s brain drew a blank no matter how hard she tried to think of another good excuse, or any excuse for that any matter. She definitely didn’t want anyone to know the messy experiment she just tried, but lying was never a strong point of hers. She needed to find a way out of this discussion, and fast.

    “Oh?” That’s when she found, or rather felt, her solution. May put her legs together and a hand between them, giving a little wiggle. “S-Sorry, nature calls! Gotta go!” she declared before quickly trotting off towards the woods.

    “I wonder what that was about?” she heard Ash say.

    “I dunno. You kinda get used to it when you spend enough time with her,” said Max, “Why, this one time growing up, I remember when she really had to go to the bathroom, and…”

    May didn’t catch the rest of the story, but if it was the one she thought Max was recounting, she would have some very choice words with him when she got back. How was she supposed to know back then that an Oddish could bury itself up to its leaves? It took her forever to get used to peeing outdoors again after that.

    With a groan, May returned her focus to her new issue, the building pressure in her bladder again. She hadn’t peed since her failed standing attempt, partly because no one else needed to stop again. The biggest reason was that she wanted to try thinking up some ways to improve her chances of success before she tried again.

    She had boiled her failure down to two problems. First, she needed a way to give her pee some forward momentum, since making it go straight down seemed to invite trouble. Second, and more embarrassingly, she remembered a few things about how her “plumbing” worked, namely that while standing, the exit was covered up by her “Bellossom petals”, as mom had called them.

    May stopped to scratch her cheek. Mom sure had some silly ways to talk about my vagina!

    While that issue was simple enough to deal with, the lack of proper aim still proved a problem. As she walked, May tried to think of a way to maybe angle herself so it could come out more forward than down with a little force.

    While she thought, her eyes drifted towards two trees growing a couple feet apart from each other, with a couple bushes nearby. It'd make for good cover, but something about the way they were positioned made her tilt her head, like it could prove to be more than that.

    "Hmm… Oh!" It hit her like a Blaziken using a high jump kick. She smiled at the naughty idea she just came up with. Maybe it wouldn’t work all the time, but she may have found a way to hit two Pidgeys with one stone.

    Giving another look around to make sure she was alone, May walked over to the trees, her hands already hooking around her shorts and panties. She pulled them down and stepped one foot out just like last time. That was where the similarities ended; putting a hand on one tree for balance, May lifted her leg with the clothes around her ankle up to the other tree at a nearly ninety-degree angle, letting her naked groin really shine in the setting sun. She then bit down on the glove of her free hand, pulling it loose and leaving the garment in her mouth. Her bare fingers delicately pulled apart the “petals” down below, leaving a certain hole exposed with nothing in the way.

    May’s heart quivered in anticipation, making her cheeks turn a light red. Her bladder was more than ready to get the flow going, but May knew she couldn’t just let it out on its own pace this time. If she wanted to avoid a cleanup this time, she needed to push it out. I knew those exercises would come in handy someday!

    “Hmph!” May tensed her muscles, forcing the urine out of its home and through the exit. It shot out of her in a steady and strong stream, almost sparkling in the sunlight and flying forward a fair distance before arcing downward and breaking up, hitting the grass with a faint piddling noise. Her force also produced a slight hiss from her personal water spout; she was certainly thankful everyone else was distracted back at the camp to not hear and see this private performance of hers.

    But more than that, May began to smile in excitement. Her technique was working! Maybe her raised leg would be a little tired after this, and she could still feel the need for some tissues once she was done, but this was already going way better than her first try. The relief was quite nice, too. Pushing so much out so quickly was leaving a nice emptying feeling in her, like ridding herself of all the stress that had been building inside her. It wasn’t quite as strong as the couple times when she made it to the toilet right before she peed her pants, but she couldn’t complain about having some nice sensations to go along with her success.

    “Mmm…” She sighed with the glove in her mouth, ready to ride out the rest of her potty time in clean, happy peace.

    “Hmm!?”

    Sadly, that would not be the case. As her pee slowed down, it could not maintain the momentum to stay at that arc. As it declined, the stream gradually fell apart as well. Before she knew it, a trail ran down her grounded leg, and all those happy feelings evaporated quicker than the wet patch that had formed in the dirt.

    She looked at her leg as it was defiled once more with her golden, smelly waste. Her first instinct was to try and move her body to somehow stop the trickling tinkle. Unfortunately, she couldn’t, not with her body propped up so precariously. A kneejerk would make her fall over, and even more would be covered, not to mention the dirt getting on her legs and butt. Stopping the pee wasn’t happening, either; forcing her muscles like that made sure she wouldn’t be able to clench them shut until it was all out.

    As much as she didn’t want to, all May could do was groan in disappointment as her pee continued for a little bit longer, her leg getting wetter all the while. She could feel drops of urine soaking into her sock at the ankle, and even a little down at the heel, making her cringe. I’m gonna have to change my socks again!

    Once the last spurt of urine had dribbled onto the ground, May let her raised leg down, feeling the blood circulating through it again. She lifted her stained leg up and inspected the full damage, further dismaying her.

    “So much for that idea,” she bemoaned after removing her glove from her mouth. Not that it was a practical solution anyway; this pose only worked if she had something to brace herself on in the first place, and it still left her far messier than was acceptable.

    Yet again, the thought that her pursuit was doomed from the start weighed her down, but it only took a glance at her other leg to convince herself otherwise. Only leg was soaked this time, and her underwear remained dry and wearable. If anything, she had gotten closer to her goal than before.

    That’s right, she told herself, I know I can make this work! I don’t care how many pairs of socks and underwear I go through, I will achieve a perfect standing pee!

    May struck a pose of pure determination, a fire lighting within her eyes that wouldn’t stop for anything. However, a growl from her stomach quickly proved otherwise. “Ugh, Brock’s cooking sounds really good now,” she admitted, clutching her empty belly.

    A few used tissues lying on the ground to dissolve later, and May was on her way back to the campsite. Food was at the forefront of her mind, but she still gave a little thought to her experiment. They would be reaching the next town sometime tomorrow; maybe it would be for the best if she put off her attempts until then. She would probably have the chance to practice while taking a shower, where she wouldn’t need to worry about cleanup or being seen at all. It made more sense to her, at least.

    But she could leave that for later. Right now, all she wanted was some good campfire grub, nice tea to wash it down, and then retire to her tent where she could recharge for another big day tomorrow.

     


     

    "Nngh, why do these buildings have to be so confusing?"

    May rounded the corner to yet another corridor, this one looking the same as the last few. Nothing but plain halls and closed doors everywhere, nothing resembling a ladies' room, which she so badly needed.

    How'd she even let it get this bad? May tried to remember, but the details were hazy. They got to town, drank some tea, then the next thing she knew, she was in a desperate search for a bathroom in a random building. Hand at her groin and squirm in her hips, she continued to make her way through, every second bringing her closer to the first accident she would have since childhood.

    But just when that seemed unavoidable, May finally saw it: a door with a pink sign and a female stick figure, dead ahead.

    "Alright, finally!" She said with a smile, opening the door and stepping in without a moment's pause. "Wait, what?"

    May looked on in surprise and confusion. This wasn't a bathroom at all. Somehow, she now found herself in what looked like a contest hall with a big stage on the other side and a massive audience. Several girls stood at the edge of the stage.

    Wait, May realized, they weren't just any girls. Roxanne, Winona, Flannery, Glacia, and Phoebe… these were the female gym leaders and members of Hoenn’s Elite Four. What is going on here!?

    "Alright, ladies!" said Phoebe, who stood in the middle. "Time to stand and deliver!"

    All as one, the girls widened their stance, thrust their hips forward, and put their hands between their legs. It was at this point May noticed the biggest shocker of all: none of the ladies had any bottoms on! She couldn’t make them out very well through all the lights and strange haze in the room, but there was no doubting they were all naked in the place where it mattered most.

    Her shock only grew from there as five streams of urine flew forward from their groins, shimmering in the studio lights as it fell into the audience. The girls all wore different faces of relief, from Glacia’s soft smile to Flannery’s ear-to-ear grin. The hiss from all of their vaginas came through loud and clear, like invisible microphones were hooked up to their crotches. Cheers roared from the audience, louder than any crowd May had ever heard. She couldn’t pry her eyes away from this oddly-mesmerizing display; what bizarre show could she have possibly stumbled into?

    The streams ended as quickly as they began, seemingly disappearing into thin air. Suddenly, Phoebe lifted her arm and pointed straight at May. “Now it’s your turn to take the stage!”

    “Huh!?” May looked down and found that she was no longer by the door. Somehow, she now stood onstage, with everyone in the faceless crowd looking at her. Furthermore, she was wearing her pink swimsuit, with one major difference: a complete lack of undergarments.

    She immediately went wide-eyed and red-faced, wanting to cover herself and run away. However, her legs stayed rooted to the spot, and her hands wouldn’t move, leaving everything below the belt on display.

    “Go on,” she heard Phoebe say behind her. “Stand tall, assume the pose, and show them all the power inside!”

    May’s body moved on its own, spreading her legs, moving her hips forward, and placing her hands at her entrance. She became reminded of all the urine built up within, eager to flow out onto the audience below.

    I… I’m really gonna… May closed her eyes, bracing herself for whatever came next. Seconds passed as the stage, the crowd, and all the noises within swirled into darkness and silence. She re-opened them expecting to see her pee flying out.

    Instead, May was greeted with the canopy of her tent, and the noises of birdsong in the distance. “Wha?” She sat up, letting her sleeping bag fall and reveal her orange pajama top and pants with white stripes, and looked around in confusion.

    All just a dream, a very bizarre one at that. She had to wonder if a psychic-type Pokemon had used some kind of dream move on her. Why else would she ever imagine such a scenario?

    But then May’s half-lidded eyes fully opened as she felt the one part of the dream that was very real.

    “Ooh, gotta pee!” She was quickly reminded of the extra cup of tea she had before bed, and how that had led to one very embarrassing morning as a kid. It seemed there were some lessons she never fully learned, even when her bladder capacity was a bit stronger than that time. Still, she knew that it would be coming out before too long, and she needed to get behind some trees before that time arrived.

    May quickly slipped out of her sleeping bag, threw on her slippers, and crawled out of her tent, pausing only to let her eyes adjust to the morning sun. Looking around, she saw Ash still fast asleep in his bag, and Brock and Max’s tent was still zipped closed, so at least she wouldn’t have to worry about them.

    With hand in groin, May set off into the woods again. Not as far as before, she didn't want to hold this any longer than she needed to. That, and wandering off too far without any friends or Pokemon for protection was a bad idea, aching bladder or no.

    Her urge was strong, but not strong enough to make her forget such a vivid dream as she walked. Seeing such famous, strong women expose themselves and pee in front of an entire audience… she wouldn’t be forgetting that dream for a long time, for better or worse. At least they all looked so powerful in their stance, she supposed.

    Wait! It all came back to her at once; the exact way they stood as they peed, and the same pose they made her take was clear as day. Could it really be what she looking for? Sure, it came from a weird place, but if had a chance to work, then she had to give it a shot.

    After ducking behind a decently-covering tree and bush, May glanced down at her pajama-clad legs and slippers. She had lucked out her last two times by wearing dark shorts, but she absolutely couldn’t take any risks this time. She kicked her slippers off, then grabbed her bottoms at the waist and pulled them off as well, setting the pants down on top of the bush. The sensations of her exposed lower body in the morning breeze and bare feet touching the grass sent a shiver down her spine, making her bladder beg even harder to be free of all that urine. Just a little longer, she told herself.

    “Alright, let’s see…” May visualized the steps from the dream, doing her best to re-enact them. Legs spread past her shoulders, and hips thrusted forward. Those were easy enough to do, but she had to wonder about the next step. She had never tried pulling on her folds like that before, never needed to. This would be a new experience on top of a new experience, and she hadn’t been awake for five minutes yet.

    Her hands reached down to her warm, soft petals and gingerly pulled them upwards. Her face went red as she realized just how much pink she could now see this way, but she could tell that this would keep it from falling straight down and soaking her legs again. At least, it would as long as she remembered the golden rule to making her own gold this way: Push.

    Only a second passed between the moment she let go and the first release, but it felt like an eternity of waiting to her. A million thoughts ran through her mind, equal parts excitement and dread making her heart race. The moment was upon her; would she shoot or soak? As it left its uncomfortable home and passed millimeter by millimeter, she would see for herself.

    A small spurt heralded the start, just a bit of shiny, golden liquid flowing out as much forward as down and hitting the ground with an inaudible patter. May’s whole body went rigid, but her bladder kept pushing, no time to stop it now. Next came a trickle, chaotic and broken, falling at the dirt before her. It still left cleanly enough even at this splatter, but May knew she couldn’t keep it at this rate. It would get stronger whether she wanted it to or not, and knowing the relief to come, she definitely wanted it.

    Her pee built up from there, becoming steadier and stronger, landing narrower and further, until it reached its peak: a powerful stream, long and robust, flying forward and breaking up only as it began to dip towards the earth. Noises entered May’s ears, of both the small, targeted rainfall and the hiss from down below. She then detected a faint hint of her scent too, and she briefly wondered if this would end up attracting any Pokemon to her. I sure hope not!

    But nevermind that, May could barely believe the sight happening before her. She was peeing… standing up… and it was working! Maybe not one hundred percent, as she could feel just a bit of it dripping off the bottom of her vagina, but anyone who caught her right now would say she was peeing as good as any boy.

    Her mouth opened up in surprise at first, both from the success and the naughtiness of such an ungirly action. However, it gradually lifted into a smile as free and unashamed as the stream before her. “I… did it!” she declared to the world. “I can pee standing up!”

    May laughed in triumph, feeling unstoppable in that moment. If only those girls from her dream could see her now; they’d be clapping and cheering her on, the audience below roaring with approval at her flawless technique. It was a shame this sort of display wouldn’t win her any contests, but she was certain she would win a gold medal if they ever allowed it.

    She let loose another laugh, but quickly remembered how close to the camp she still was. “Eep!” She quickly shut her mouth and glanced behind, though she couldn’t see anything. I hope no one heard that! She’d almost prefer soaking her legs again than giving Max more ammo for embarrassing stories.

    Best to just relish in the moment quietly, she decided. Leaning her head back, May closed her eyes and let out a long, uninterrupted sigh as she took in the pleasure of a nice morning pee. She’d never tell another soul, but emptying her bladder first thing in the morning had a certain satisfaction to it, much like how another person would enjoy a cup of coffee or their wakeup stretches. It was the icing on the cake to her hard-earned success, and she would enjoy it to the last drop.

    Said drop didn’t happen for a while, but eventually, her stream declined in power, the hard splatter on the damp dirt fading into a faint piddle, and the hiss of her personal water gun disappearing. Even then, her pee took its sweet time growing weaker, to the point that it felt like minutes passed before it stopped completely, even though it really hadn’t been that long. A large puddle remained in front of her, and would stay there for a while before soaking and evaporating away.

    “Hah… wow, I actually did it,” she muttered to herself, still as red-faced as ever. She wanted to stay there and bask in the slight afterglow of success, but May knew staying here like this was asking to be caught. Best to wipe up and get dressed before that could happen.

    That was when May thought of something rather dismaying. “Ugh, I forgot to bring tissues,” she groaned, lowering her head. Without wiping, she was sure to leave a small wet spot on her pajamas, and she’d never hear the end of it if the boys saw her.

    Luckily, a solution quickly presented itself. A slight breeze picked up, blowing against her exposed “Luvdisc”. She gasped at the sudden feeling, but quickly noticing it was not an unpleasant feeling. In fact, it was helping her dry up, making what drips she still had fall to the grass between her feet. May breathed out a relaxed breath; it’d take a little bit this way, but it gave her more time to enjoy the moment.

    As she drip-dried, May thought of what else was ahead of her today. She never considered herself unconfident, but now she felt as though she could take on all of Hoenn right now. Come what may, this girl would always take the stage knowing she had the power to stand and deliver.

     


     

    And now, for something completely different: the original English anime opening, as sung by May in mid-pee!

     

    I’m gonna pee standing up
    Like no girl ever has!
    I won’t squat in an itchy shrub
    The boys, I will outclass!

    I will trickle through the air,
    Spraying far and wide
    With these two folds, you should beware
    The power that’s inside!

    Potty time!
    (Gotta stand up tall!)
    It’s time to pee,
    And standing is much more free!

    Potty time!
    Oooooh, it feels so good
    In the way that peeing should!

    Potty time!
    (Gotta stand up tall!)
    I peed a ton!
    “Little Shellder’s” had her fun
    Wipe and dress and now I’m done!
    Pot-ty time!

    (Gotta stand up tall)
    Gotta stand up tall
    Potty time!

  10. A Time Never Forgotten

     

    Have you ever completely embarressed yourself, in front of majority of the school you go to. I have multiple times, story time, back in highschool I remember taking the sophmore biology exam. Its a 90 minute exam that is soooo boring. Halfway through the exam I started too feel the urge to pee. I shrugged it away, knowing I should have went before the exam started. Wearing a grey hoodie, a red tank top, and a light red and black skirt, holding myself would have just let everyone around me know what I wanted to do. As about 10-15 minutes later, I was more fidgety than I ever have been before. I could barely even sit still, I had to pee so badly! I really wanted to just let loose right there. I was almost finished with the exam, so I decided to just finish the exam and attempt to hold myself in a discrete way. When I reached the last few questions I felt my body start to twinge and let loose. The person next to me heard me say "oh no.." Outloud, silently. While this was happening, my hand felt warmth start spreading. In this moment of panic, instead of running to the bathroom like a sane person, I just raised my hand, waiting for a teacher to notice me.

     

    As I waited for a teacher to come my way, my light stream turned into me fulling peeing my panties. Finally a teacher came to me and noticed what was happening, she motioned for me to leave, and as I did, I didnt think about the puddle left, or the huge wet spot on my butt. My main concern was not completely soiling myself. Over all this holding, out of nowhere, my body had a sudden urge to poop myself. Like a really bad urge. I was lucky enough too open the bathroom door, get in the stall, close the stall door, before I felt a log drop in my already soaked panties. At that point I just gave up. I was bawling my eyes out as I felt my backside buldge increasingly, I even peed myself more. After the whole trama, I figured I should call my mom to pick me up, but when I did, she assumed I did it on purpose, telling me "once your home, you are grounded. Me and your father are also going to put you back in diapers because of your little incident you chose to do today." I felt completely distraught, I wished I'd died right then and there.

     

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                    “Honestly, Cel, your confidence is disturbing.” The Councillor crossed his arms and turned around. “But I suppose that’s what the others liked about you. Just send us a signal when you’re ready for the trials to start.” Then he left, leaving the balcony above Cel empty, with her alone in the arena. As alone as she could be anyways – somewhere even farther above, the Council of Nine was watching her, to keep an eye on her performance. Were they anything less than professionals, she would have been concerned that they were watching her dress. It would be quite the show, for Cel was no longer wearing her usual conservative robes that flowed elegantly down her body and hung just loosely enough to conceal her figure in the process. Rather, her clothing now consisted of a sleeveless tunic and a shorter, more practical skirt (both still in the traditional yellow), completed with the sort of boots a farmer would wear in the winter and simple hand wraps that were only now being tied up. Suffice it to say she was showing quite a generous amount of her fair brass skin, which her peers at the Academy would no doubt have enjoyed despite her remarkably average appearance.

                    In any event, there was no chance of spectators seeing the curves Cel so rarely displayed. The Council trials were conducted in a private arena, overseen exclusively by the Nine themselves, and the Nine had no reason to take interest in someone wearing sparring gear they’d seen a million times before. And as if a million times weren’t enough… With all her clothing in order and dark hair arranged just so – it was short enough to keep loose, but it couldn’t just be left to its own devices – she stepped out into the arena proper, draining the contents of the waterskin she’d brought with her on the way out. She didn’t know what exactly the trials would entail, or how long they would last. Best to start well-hydrated and not worry about it later.

                    Standing in the center of the arena, Cel raised a hand and produced a golden flame, which she flickered a few times before dropping entirely. Up above, she could see a figure walk up to a window in the cavern wall, and a magically-amplified voice rang out.

                    “Ready? Fine. You stand before the Council of the Nine Masters of Medru Dalach, to prove to us your worth to serve at our side.” This Councillor was known to Cel as Varassus, and he sounded incredibly bored as he droned on with his announcement. “Each of us has prepared for you a test designed to push your knowledge and skills to their absolute limits. You must successfully complete each of the nine trials, then you will be tested in a tenth challenge arranged by the entire Council. As any one of us does not know what the content of the other eight trials will be, you are on your own. We are not allowed to provide guidance or aid, though we will intervene to the best of our abilities if it is absolutely necessary. If you leave this cavern, your trials are forfeit, but there are otherwise no rules or limitations. You must complete the tasks set before you by whatever means possible.” Councillor Varassus cleared his throat, now speaking with more energy. “And, official speech aside, on a more personal note, Cel, remember that you are here because we believed in your skills. You are young, yes, but don’t worry. We won’t let that cloud our judgment. You will be subjected to the same rigorous tests as anyone else and held to the same exalted standards. There is only one advantage you get here today, and that is that if you pass these trials now, your position among us is secured – you will be immediately granted the next seat to open, as we have already discussed. But remember that if you fail and come back to try again, we cannot extend this same offer.”

                    Then the world went dark and the Councillor continued to speak. “Anyways, your first trial is something I’m sure you’ll find relevant to your studies.” When Cel’s vision returned, Councillor Varassus had retreated from the window, and in the arena a forge had appeared alongside a table, on which lay an assortment of metal bars. Cel recognized silver and gold, and a few others known for their ability to take magic like a sponge.

                    The Councillor was right: Cel’s studies had primarily focused on enchantment, and now she was being asked to create one of the enchanted metals. The only problem was that the two most well-known metals were beyond her abilities – literally impossible for her, as they demanded a type of magic she couldn’t use. But of course Varassus wouldn’t expect her to make either of those, knowing that. That would be too easy, anyways, just a case of melting the silver down, imbuing the molten metal with energy, then turning it back into a bar.

                    No, it had to be something involving more than one metal. That would make it the hardest to not only enchant, but also to reform to a usable state. But that had its own problem too. Cel had heard of an enchanted metal that made use of everything she’d been given here, but it still needed magic she didn’t have access to. It would theoretically require at least one other person, though realistically she’d need the help of two of the Councillors, which was obviously out of the question.

                    That just left one alternative: a complex enchantment that normally needed four people, but Cel’s magic allowed her to do alone. It wouldn’t need all the metals she’d been given, though perhaps that was the trap – assume they want all the metals used then ask for help because the task is impossible alone, then instantly fail for not seeing the alternatives. They’d have to try harder than that if they wanted Cel to fall for their tricks. Indeed, she simply grabbed up the metals she’d need and headed to the forge, where she worked at melting down each piece individually. Drop one bar in, and feed the forge fire and air from her own hands. When it became malleable enough, she’d imbue it with energy and move on to the next piece, until she had four so enchanted.

                    And then there was the hard part. All four pieces had to be melted down again, and re-enchanted at the same time. Done incorrectly, the resulting mess would just be a worthless blob of mildly-magical metal. But with skilled hands, such as, say, those of someone who’d spent the last six years studying every form of enchantment known to man – including several supposedly invented by the dragons of ancient myth – it wouldn’t be difficult so much as it would be annoying. Little details needed to be just right, like when the forge should be fed or fanned, and when each energy should be added.

                    But, of course, in time Cel pulled out a bar of metal that almost looked silver, except for its golden shine. She waved it over her head and felt its weight leave her as her vision faded again and the next Councillor spoke.

                    “Hm, how about something a little more energetic? Mine is a combat trial. The test begins when you have armed yourself.”

                    When Cel could see again, the arena had been cleared out entirely, devoid of everything but its own walls and floor.

                    “Clever bastard you are, Renagor,” Cel muttered. There were no weapons available, even in the preparation area which was still open. “I have to arm myself but you don’t give me weapons? And if I ask for one I fail. I see how it is.” She laughed quietly as she continued talking to herself. “Good thing I know what the real test is here, hm? How’s this for armed?”

                    With that, she raised her right hand over her head and drew it back, a line of dust following the path and taking the shape of Cel’s favored cross-spear. Then she slammed the spear on the ground in front of her and crossed both arms over her body as black iron enveloped her. And when she brought her arms back to her sides, the Second Councillor’s voice sounded again.

                    “Ready? Ah, good. This is a little trick I picked up from my nephew, believe it or not. I’ve found it to be very convenient. You should find it quite the opposite.”

                    There was a pause after he finished speaking, during which he was presumably waving his hands around or some such thing, then three dark figures seemed to crawl out of the shadows. All three took the shape of Councillor Renagor, and all three carried traditional elven weapons. One had a glaive, another had a staff, and the last brandished a warhammer and cowered behind a tower shield.

                    The one with the glaive moved first, surging across the arena with such speed that it simply turned into a cloud of dark smoke. Not even a second later, the mage shadow lifted its staff, and by the time it struck the ground the first shadow had materialized again. Its strike prompted a hasty defense from Cel, who managed to get the shadow’s glaive caught between one of the lugs on her spear and its head, but she was hit from the side by a ball of dark energy before she could take advantage of this.

                    She recovered quickly enough to block another attack from the first shadow, this time grabbing its weapon in her left hand and kicking the shadow away. The glaive disintegrated on its own accord and Cel wove around a few more attacks from the mage shadow, then grabbed the cross of her spear with her free hand and drove it into the shadow she’d disarmed. The shadow at first crumbled into the attack like any normal person would upon being violently impaled, but after a brief moment exploded into dark smoke which went to rejoin the shadows cast by the arena walls.

                    The remaining two shadow figures didn’t seem the least bit unnerved – unsurprising, considering they were merely magical constructs – and they both went straight to work as if nothing had happened. The one with the hammer had moved in front of the mage to provide cover, and the mage had its free hand in the air.

                    Cel started to move in a wide circle around the two shadows, and when the mage finally threw the energy it was collecting, she jumped out of the way with more than enough time to watch the blast crash into the arena wall and dissolve with no effect. Then she just went back to what she was doing, weaving around the barrage that the mage was now unleashing, until the one with the shield was just at the edge of her spear’s range.

                    The mage refused to yield, so Cel kept herself low as she stepped forward and hooked the edge of the other shadow’s shield with the cross of her spear. The shadow saw this as an error, so simply took advantage of this to shove Cel’s spear aside while the mage prepared another assault. Unfortunate for the shadows, then, that that was exactly what she wanted, using the momentum she’d been given to swing her weapon around past the shieldbearer, slicing into the mage with the spear’s head. The mage burst like the previous shadow, and now the shieldbearer was left alone.

                    Alone, but not without options, of course. The last shadow brought up its shield again and charged straight for Cel, ramming into her before she could bring her spear back around to defend. The shadow immediately followed up by striking her with its hammer before she could regain balance.

                    Of course, her armor was well-made and properly-fitted, so the blow didn’t hurt, exactly. But then all the plating and padding didn’t quite cancel out the force of the hammer either. That wouldn’t be much of a problem on its own – Cel could deal with a little blunt shock – but things had aligned in just such a way that getting hit in that particular location brought her attention to a more personal issue, if only for a moment. Good for her that it was an issue she could ignore, at least for now, because she couldn’t spare the moment to give it any more thought than simply acknowledging that this was the result of keeping herself hydrated.

                    The shadow’s intervention only served to prove that there was no time to think – it had thrown another strike at Cel, though this one she was able to stop with her left arm. The shock of the impact was enough to indicate that maybe doing that again would be a very stupid idea, and that she was extremely fortunate to be wearing armor at that particular moment.

                    Even so, Cel was able to immediately turn around and grab at the shadow’s hammer, though before she could take it for herself she was struck in the chest with the shield and forced to release the weapon. This time she recovered quickly enough to back off out of the shadow’s range before it could do anything else, and retaliated with a few two-handed jabs, though each collided harmlessly with the massive shield. The shadow responded with a wide swing of its hammer, and Cel grabbed its arm to stop the attack. The shadow, in turn, moved to bash her with the shield, only to have it collide rather harmlessly with her spear. Cel kept hold of the shadow’s weapon arm and moved her spear such that the cross was hooked around the edge of the shield. Now in control, Cel threw the shadow’s arms open and quickly drove her spear into where its heart would be. The shadow staggered backwards for a moment, then started a swing aimed directly at Cel’s head – though just as the hammer would have struck the side of her helm, the shadow dissolved like the others.

                    Taking a deep breath, Cel dropped her spear, and it faded away before it could hit the ground. Then she took a little step forward, stretching her arms out from her sides while the armor dissipated as well. A moment later, Councillor Renagor’s voice rang out again.

                    “Hm. Very physical. Interesting. Obviously I’ve heard of your order from Sentagon, how your people avoid using magic unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He paused for a second. “Admirable, I must say. You’re taught to respect the magic – to fear it, to fear your own power. If only everyone could have such discipline. Ah, but now… Attraeon?”

                    Renagor’s voice faded out as he spoke his last sentence, and shortly after he finished speaking, there was a different voice. “Yes, yes, right.” This Councillor coughed before moving on. “Ah, well. Excellent progress so far, but you’re coming for my seat, and I’m sure you know how hard it is to impress me.” Cel’s vision faded again and the Councillor kept talking. “But this… This is special. I don’t just want to be impressed. No, what you have to do…. Suffice it to say that even I haven’t ever actually done this. Nobody has. Not in centuries.” The darkness passed, and the Councillor finished as Cel gazed upon a massive obelisk in the center of the arena. “Enjoy being the first.”

                    The obelisk was a simple stone pillar, inhumanly smooth and apparently made out of the same material as the arena itself. This sort of monument was fairly common – there was a much larger version of the same thing up on the surface, out in one of the central plazas of Medru Dalach’s campus, and there were a great deal of them scattered around the countryside and at the edges of cities in most places. Cel knew exactly what this was, so as she looked at the pillar and considered the challenge, all she could do was stare and silently mouth the words “what the fuck”.

                    And there was good reason for that – structures like this obelisk were so widespread because of their magical properties. These things acted as conduits for teleportation, enabling travel over long distances to those that had the skills. And in the Fifteen, at least, the obelisks – lodestones, the locals called them – had stood for nearly a thousand years, spaced a few miles apart to cover almost the entire continent. None of them had ever been disabled, and because they covered all the important areas save for more recent constructions like Oraculum, nobody ever bothered to build more.

                    The Councillor definitely wasn’t exaggerating – this was extremely special, and enchanting a lodestone would be beyond impressive. It’d be legendary. But of course, there was a reason for that as well. Because it had been centuries since the last time one had been enchanted, nobody knew how to do it, strictly speaking. No doubt Councillor Attraeon knew it, in theory, but especially with something like this, theoretical knowledge and practical knowledge were two entirely different things. Even Cel theoretically knew how to enchant a lodestone, as a consequence of studying enchanting at the world’s most prestigious magical academy. But the problem was: how could that knowledge be applied? Just one way to find out.

                    Cel approached the inert shrine and gently laid a hand on it – it certainly felt devoid of all power, so this would need to be done from nothing. She circled around the obelisk a few times, leaving her hand to brush against it. When she finally stopped, she put her free hand onto the lodestone as well, and leaned forwards into it. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and just as her head was about to touch the pillar, her body turned to smoke and reformed on the other side of the obelisk. She took a few steps to regain proper balance, then turned around to look at the stone again. It didn’t seem to have changed at all, so she shrugged, took a step forward, and teleported back to the other side, the smoke weaving around the pillar. Of course, still nothing had happened.

                    “Hmph.” Cel fell into a sitting position and folded her arms, the motion leaving what was under her skirt visible for just a moment before everything settled into place again. There she sat for some time, her head tilted slightly and the fingers of one hand drumming on the opposite arm. Perhaps she was there for only a few minutes, perhaps for a few hours. It was nearly impossible to tell for sure, but eventually she did stand up again, and approached the lodestone again with a sigh.

                    This time, she held both hands out at her sides, and when she brought them forward to touch the pillar they had a yellow glow about them. Another deep breath and Cel leaned in as if she were trying to push the lodestone away, moving her hands in small circles over the stone.

                    She stood like this for some time, and was about to give up and try something else when the pillar started to glow with the same aura that she was projecting herself. Seeing this, Cel pushed off against the lodestone and jumped back, and with her hands still in front of her she unleashed a stream of yellow energy at the stone; the energy initially struck with no effect, parting to move around the pillar, but when it did that it simply got absorbed on the other side. A few seconds of that, and the assault was cut off, Cel running forward again to strike the pillar with one hand. The resulting glow was even brighter than before, and when her hand was removed, the light of ancient magical symbols shone briefly on the stone before fading away. Then she teleported to the top of the pillar, balancing on its tip for a moment, then jumping off and striking it again while she dissolved to teleport back to the ground.

                    When her body reformed, she took a deep breath again, crossed her arms over her chest and bent forward slightly. With one quick motion, she straightened out and her arms flew open, releasing a blast of the same golden energy in all directions, which the lodestone absorbed before any of the energy could hit the other walls of the arena.

                    Then, it was a simple matter of just approaching the stone and touching it. If all went well, all Cel would need to do was focus.

                    Indeed, upon touching the stone, Cel’s vision blurred and her ears were filled with the sound of rushing air, and when she could see again, the Nine had her backs to her. From this position, she could just barely see the top of the lodestone below. It didn’t take long for the Councillors to realize what had happened, and they all turned to face her – their reactions varied from shock (be that because she had actually succeeded, or because she teleported into the observation room to prove it) to utter indifference. Cel responded with a simple, smug bow before disappearing into the arena again.

                    “Um, well, I’m not sure that was necessary, but…” Even Attraeon’s sigh was amplified. “Yeah, fine, good work. Now, even if you fail, you can say you’re the only person alive who’s ever done that.”

                    The next voice had an accent Cel had only ever heard at the Academy – thick and tinted with the age of both the Councillor and his native tongue. “Now let us see,” he said. “Here is something else special for you. Very important to my people, these are, but to you, perhaps it is just a slab of rock.” The world went dark again, of course. “Even so, to be a Councillor you must know magic from all parts of the world. I am sure you know much that comes from the Origin of Man, so let us see just how far this knowledge goes.”

                    When Cel could see again, the obelisk had been replaced with almost exactly what the Councillor said it would be: a slab of rock, essentially a large stone table. It brought back memories of the altar in the temple back home. But obviously the challenge wouldn’t be so easy – surely Councillor Nemthuur would have known about this, especially with one Star Priest on the Council already. No, this particular altar had a different purpose.

                    Whatever it was, Cel was getting those all-too-familiar signals from her body that it’d be best if she figured it out quickly. Sure, she could leave now – no penalty for leaving the arena to deal with things like that so long as she stayed underground – but for now, she could wait just fine. As far as she was concerned, she’d have to anyways. Something so mundane wasn’t about to interfere with the most important tests of her life. Though, she would have to drink something pretty soon, and with no way to tell how long the remaining tests would take, that could very well cause problems.

                    Problems to deal with when they arise. For now, the problem was figuring out what the Councillor’s altar was for. If it was like the others Cel had seen, it likely had some sort of teleportation functionality, or perhaps it was an amplifier that needed the correct ritual to activate.

                    Too bad for her that Councillor Nemthuur was very much aware that ritual magic like this was her weakness – especially with something so foreign. Sure, if he’d just given her this slab and told her to enchant it to do whatever it was supposed to do, she could do that well enough, but just reaching out for it demonstrated it was overflowing with magical energy. Getting an existing enchantment to actually do something, especially without knowing what it did in the first place? That was a challenge.

                    A challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Cel walked up to the altar and laid a hand on it, closing her eyes to try and figure out what all that energy was trying to do. Something about it felt wrong, so Cel frowned and put her other hand on the altar as well. A few minutes of concentration revealed that the energy felt as though it were coming from somewhere else – where exactly, who could say, but that meant one thing: the altar summoned something.

                    Specifically, whatever was on the other end of the connection. A reverse teleportation enchantment, essentially. No doubt this was a simplification of what Nemthuur would have used in his homeland, but what chance had anyone from any other part of the world to figure out the real ritual?

                    Of course, being easier than it could have been wasn’t saying much – sure, the altar could summon something, and it was already linked to whatever that thing was, but summoning was a fairly peculiar skill, rare if not nonexistent everywhere except in Nemthuur’s homeland of Vinumur. It wasn’t even taught at Medru Dalach, for all their notoriety, because it was so utterly useless outside of obscure religious rituals practiced only by the oldest civilizations. Well, it was useful for that and Council trials, because it wouldn’t be a proper test to become a master among masters if it didn’t test one’s skills at things one would never need to know again.

                    Cel stayed in that position, hands on the altar and eyes closed, while she considered how to do what needed to be done. Theoretically, she could just pull the energy through and hope that whatever was on the other end of the connection would come along with it – but that was just as likely to destroy the altar, the connected thing, or both.

                    But wait – if it were already connected, perhaps the teleportation idea wasn’t all that far off. Teleporting was already essentially just taking something – one’s own body in practice – and putting it somewhere else. That concept could easily be applied in the opposite direction, as long as there was a way to tap into the energy of whatever needed to be moved.

                    Conveniently…

                    Cel waved one hand over the altar in a large circle, holding the other steady just above it for a moment, until there was a burst of flame that forced her to pull her arms back. The flame rose from the altar, assuming the form of, according to the legends, a dragon. It continued to rise for a brief moment, then disappeared in a bright flash and a shower of embers.

                    “I did not expect that to be so easy for you.” The Councillor’s voice confirmed that was supposed to happen. “Interesting. If you maintain this, we will speak again for your final trial.”

                    His voice faded, followed shortly by Cel’s vision. It returned as usual, and the edges of the arena had become a pool of water. There was quiet for a moment, then a woman’s voice, ancient and monotone, was heard above. “Do something useful with this.”

                    Useful? Well, it was useful now – for Cel at least, whose first choice was to kneel in front of the water and get herself a few handfuls to drink. She was already being made well aware that she’d regret that soon, but such things were far better problems to deal with than dehydration.

                    Anyways, what could Councillor Theryl have wanted? Surely a ninety-year-old legendary alchemist would know better than to give an enchantment trial to a skilled enchanter with no concept of humility. But then, unless Cel were to somehow magically pull together a brewery, there was very little useful to be done with water otherwise.

                    Plus, Theryl was definitely the sort to lay traps for overthinkers, especially when she decided to teach classes personally. “Oh, this is too obvious, it must be something else,” her students would think. “There must be something else she wants us to do.” Then they’d fail because she actually just wanted them to brew tea.

                    Usually they didn’t fall for that more than once. It was her special way of inducting the first-years into a system they’d likely never seen before. But Cel was in her sixth year. Seeing one of Theryl’s traps at that point was, to say the least, odd, especially when she was testing to find someone that she’d be working with.

                    Ah, but she wasn’t looking for skills, was she? No, this was a logic test. To see if Cel could be tripped up not by Theryl’s traps, but by the context of the trials. Everyone knew what to expect from the Councillor in a classroom setting, but surely those expectations wouldn’t apply to a test to join the Council. And that was the trap.

                    In any case, the water had already been enchanted while Cel was considering these things – she’d been absentmindedly waving her hands around, as something as trivial as making healing water had become second-nature to her – so by the time she’d finished her thoughts she couldn’t see anything anymore. Theryl hadn’t said anything, unsurprisingly, and presumably she was nodding in approval up in the Council’s little spectating room. The next Councillor was entirely silent, too, leaving Cel staring at a segmented pillar when her vision returned.

                    It had old runes carved into it, the sort that Cel couldn’t read but everyone with magic knew vaguely what they meant. One of them was glowing, the one for fire.

                    Cel cocked her head and muttered “Fire?” Then she shrugged and made a quick swiping motion in front of her with one hand. She’d launched a small golden fireball at the pillar, and when it struck the rune that segment rotated away and a different one lit up. Air.

                    Is that all this is?’ Cel audibly groaned and finished her thought. ‘Great, this isn’t going to end well at all…’ With a sigh, she gave a quick punch with her right hand, and across the room the pillar changed again. Water. Slightly more complicated, but all it took was a bit of a circular motion to pull some of the moisture from the air and send it at the pillar. Then it was earth.

                    Cel stomped with her right foot to bring up a rock to throw. Except that never happened. The ground stayed firmly in the ground, so she tried again, and still nothing. She reached out to pull at one of the walls, then the ceiling, and even the other walls, and nothing happened.

                    “Yeah, of course.” Cel sighed, rubbing her forehead for a moment, then putting both arms out in front of her and focusing. Her hands started to shake after a little while, and then a bit later pebbles started to form from apparently nothing, eventually coalescing into a rock just large enough to throw.

                    So, of course, that rock was immediately hurled at the pillar, which was apparently satisfied and turned to show the fire symbol again. Cel raised an eyebrow and threw another fireball at it, but this time that did nothing. She tried again, and again, no response. Cel leaned back slightly and put out her hands in a motion that on its own said “what is this nonsense?”

                    Further consideration, though, caused her to direct one of those hands to her face as she realized that this solution was obvious. She widened her stance, took a deep breath, and started to move both arms in wide circular motions. The first hand started near the ground to make a spark, and the second caught the lightning in front of her and dragged it out even more, eventually leading back to trade the energy between both hands a few times. Then one foot suddenly shot out and her stance had changed entirely – where her body had been facing the pillar before, now she was turned to face the wall with the Councillors’ viewing window, both arms stretched out in opposite directions. The same instant, there was a deafening crash and the lightning Cel had been working on was gone without a trace, save for Cel’s hair now being significantly less orderly.

                    Cel relaxed and went back to her normal stance, but the pillar changed again. It was still the symbol for fire, but now it was glowing white, not red.

                    “Is that-“ Cel whispered, eyes wide, watching the pillar to make sure it was correct about what it wanted. “They don’t really- Naaah, fuck.” It was. They did.

                    Cel took a moment to calm herself down – deep breaths, closed eyes, she’d even sat down again – and went back to talking to herself. “Alright, well, that’s… How am I going to do that? They’re not going to take anything less than perfect, for sure… But can I even do perfect?” She brought her elbows to rest on her legs and let her hands support her head. “Well, not like there’s all that much of a choice. If they really want to see it… I’m going to give them perfect.”

                    She stood up, breathed deep again, and held her hands out to her sides. Golden flames appeared in each, and she brought her hands to her front and tried to press them together. The flames resisted, of course – part of why getting this perfect was so difficult; it was hard to even do it at all to begin with – but Cel wasn’t about to give up. She simply tried harder, the effort and heat causing her to break a sweat for the first time in her trials. The flames started to swirl around each other as she focused on nothing but the task at hand.

                    But then she suddenly jumped back a bit and dropped the fire as she felt warmth somewhere that the flames couldn’t have affected. Cel’s body tensed and she pressed her legs together for a moment, not daring to check to confirm what she already knew had happened. She looked over her shoulder at the entrance to the arena. It was still open, she could leave now and come right back without penalty. She could, or she could finish what she’d started.

                    Well, that was hardly much of a choice, was it?

                    Without any further hesitation, Cel had her fire in hand again, right back to what she’d been doing – though this time with a slightly tighter stance and a divided focus – to make it seem like she’d made some mistake the last time. Perhaps they’d think she’d burned herself a little, or something.

                    She’d duck out in between tests once this was done. Leaving in the middle of one was just unprofessional. This would just… take a while, is all. Certainly not long enough to be a problem if Cel paid attention.

                    At any rate, she’d already committed to the test, and now that she’d doubled down on it, things were going well, if slowly. It did take a few minutes for the flames to join into one, and from there it was a (theoretically) simple matter of compressing that even further. More effort, more focus. And a little bit of focus on making sure that cold spot didn’t get warm again.

                    The flame eventually became a white ball resembling a small sun. But it still wasn’t good enough. More effort, more focus. The ball was still hot, still glowing. That wouldn’t do. That wasn’t perfect. Cel threw her arms out to her sides, ripping the ball in half, then forced them back together just as quickly – keeping her head turned so that the resulting blast of heat only warmed up her ear a little bit. Then she pressed her hands even closer together, gradually closing in around the ball until her hands met. When they opened again, she was carrying that ball of energy in her left hand, feeling around it with her right and being very careful to not actually touch it. The absolute lack of any heat – or light, for that matter – coming off of it made it far more dangerous than any regular fire, but also confirmed one very important thing.

                    It was perfect.

                    And so it was thrown, and when it hit the pillar, the runes stopped glowing and the pillar retreated into the ground. Cel’s vision faded with but a single word from the Councillor: “Impressive.”

                    The next one was more talkative. “I must say, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone get this far so quickly and so easily,” he said. “And, of course, we’re not supposed to give you any help, but I’m sure the other eight will agree with me when I tell you…” Cel’s vision returned during the Councillor’s pause, and in the middle of the arena there was now a collection of tables covered in alchemical instruments, plants, and bottles of various liquids. The setup was completed by a lectern off to the side, the book on it already open to a particular page. “If I didn’t give you the directions, you wouldn’t stand a chance at finishing this trial. So I’m not looking for you to know anything. No, this is actually fairly straightforward, and I’m sure this trial is going to… Well, it may just beat the arrogance out of you. I’m actually hoping otherwise; this place just wouldn’t be the same without someone like you around.” He paused for just a moment. “Eh, anyways, just do what the book says.”

                    Cel had already made her way over to the book while the Councillor was speaking and had already scanned the page by the time he’d stopped. It actually was fairly straightforward. One very simple task: make the potion described in the book. No tricks, no distractions. Just a potion.

                    Or, more specifically, create the single most powerful and complicated potion ever to have been made by human hands. Trivial, really.

                    After all, everything Cel needed was out on the tables, and the book told her exactly what to do. That of course didn’t change the fact that Cel’s heart had nearly stopped when she first read the list of ingredients. This particular potion left absolutely no room for error, and there were only enough materials for a single attempt. If even one thing was ever so slightly off, the entire thing would be ruined and the trial failed. In retrospect, perhaps the cold fire didn’t need to be perfect, but this absolutely did – the end result literally could not possibly exist in any state other than perfection.

                    But this was fine. Cel just had to pay attention to what she was doing, be careful, and it’d turn out alright. She didn’t even need to enchant the water herself, all she had to do was work the instruments and mix the ingredients.

                    There would be no way to stop once she’d started, though. Even looking away for longer than it would take to blink would mean potentially missing a vital timing. Logically, this would be the perfect time to do whatever needed doing – especially pressing concerns that had brought themselves up in the prior test. But, come to think of it, Cel wasn’t really feeling it all that badly anymore. Perhaps it was just the strain from trying to work the cold fire that had set things off. There’d be nothing like that here, just staring at tubes and putting leaves into things. And if it wasn’t all that critical, it could wait until later…

                    Cel glanced at the exit – still open – for only a moment as she picked up the book and moved it to the workbench, setting it down directly in front of where she’d be standing for the duration. Pouring out the contents of a bottle into one of the strange vessels and lightning a fire below it marked the point of no return, and from there she set about doing whatever else the book instructed her to do. Crush this plant, put this thing over there, pour this onto that, light this on fire, turn this valve…

                    If not for the fact that everything had to be timed and portioned exactly correctly, this would actually be fairly monotonous. It did boil down to just following directions, after all. But that was part of the difficulty of doing this alone rather than with the traditional team of maybe a half-dozen alchemists. Everything was important, every sound, every detail. All the bubbling from the various reactions would be background noise anywhere else, but here, the sound from each individual vessel meant something. Dismissing those sounds as the typical droning of an alchemist’s workstation would mean disaster.

                    Ah, but, perhaps something else should have been held with the same regard…

                    Of course, that would be a far less significant disaster, but with everything going on now Cel was starting to regret having ignored her needs for so long. Now she couldn’t leave and was stuck watching things boil and drip. Her situation could have been better, to put it mildly.

                    Though, honestly, it could have been worse too. At the moment she was standing fairly normally, just with her legs pressed together and occasionally a slight shuffle. If she could risk dividing her attention, she’d probably have forced herself to stand still and proper, but it was better to let her body take control of holding on while her mind concentrated on what would hopefully become the panacea she was supposed to be making.

                    Things were looking good on that front, at least. Everything had gone well so far, and right now it was just a series of slight adjustments to things that had already been set up earlier. That certainly didn’t mean she could pay any less attention to it, though: a “slight” adjustment could mean something so minute that whatever needed to be adjusted would be changed too much by touching it a little too intensely. But it was still a nice bit of a break until things needed to start being brought away from the heat, at which point it was business as usual again.

                    Near to usual, anyways, as the strain on Cel’s body had only been increasing the entire time, and with both hands needed to work the alchemical instruments…

                    Well, better to not think about that – especially since she literally couldn’t afford to think about anything else anyways. Still, it had gotten to the point where even if she could dedicate any willpower to it, she wouldn’t be able to stop the constant motion of her legs. And because she had to focus on the trial, she couldn’t actively suppress the pressure down there either – just let herself feel the dull ache for a while, minimized only by the fact that it wasn’t the most important thing at the moment.

                    As time went on, though, things were only moving in one direction, and with her mind focused on the potion, Cel’s body was left to its own devices. Only her inseparable legs and subconscious willpower were keeping things (mostly) dry below, but everything has a breaking point… Cel was finding it increasingly difficult to stand still as the trial dragged on, forcing her upper body to remain mostly steady by pure necessity while her legs shook and tried to dance.

                    Cel was aware of the warmth when it appeared, but she could do nothing about it and was forced to feel the wetness expand before it stopped on its own. She was running out of time, but fortunately so was the potion. It would be close, and she was already wet, but there was a chance. There were only a few steps left in the preparation, and the only evidence of anything having gone wrong was under her skirt, which nobody with a brain would risk provoking her ire to check. Cel’s legs crossed tighter as the warm spot was freshened up and she forced herself to finish the potion as quickly as the procedure would allow. That was all she had to do. All the hard parts were over already. Just finish the damn potion.

                    It probably would have been easier if “finish the potion” meant anything other than “pour these liquids together in specific amounts that need to be measured out exactly.” Suffice it to say that pouring things into other things was not exactly what Cel wanted to be doing if she couldn’t pour things from her own body into… well, anything would do, really, so long as it wasn’t her own clothes. Not that her body was giving her much choice in that matter – her bladder was burning and its patience wearing thin, leaving her wet spot with no time to cool off and a puddle at her feet that could hopefully be passed off as excess fluid from the instruments. Not much longer, though…

                    Cel’s control was slipping for good by the time the final potion was getting bottled, and by the time it was finished she was producing a steady trickle, so as soon as she was done she dropped the potion onto the table and threw herself at one of the arena walls – the one with the Councillors above, so they couldn’t see her given the angle. The Councillor whose challenge she’d just finished said something she wasn’t listening to, and when her vision faded to confirm that her potion was correct, she gave up. Back against the wall, legs spread out slightly, Cel let go.

                    Her already-wet black panties were destroyed almost instantly, the flood creating a puddle that quickly reached to her boots. Before she could even see again, Cel closed her eyes, sighed, and lowered herself to the ground, hiking up her skirt to save it from the damage she was doing to everything else. Some part of her found some humor in this situation – this hadn’t been the first time something like this had happened, and of course she hadn’t learned from then. Though, at least now she wasn’t in public, and there wasn’t even anyone around to see her. Her torrent died down quickly, though despite both the volume she’d released and how long it’d taken, Cel knew she wasn’t quite done – she never was, when something like this happened; she’d always end up only letting out about half of whatever was in her if she was pushed to the end, just enough to feel better immediately, but also enough that she’d still need to deal with it properly soon anyways. As far as she was concerned, though, she was done. She wouldn’t be able to force anything else to happen just yet anyways, so she stood up, sliding off her ruined delicates as she did so. She wrung them out into the puddle she’d made as best she could then attempted to use them to dry off her legs (to minimal effect) before summoning up a magical fire to destroy them.

                    And then she looked up. The next trial had been prepared with a very simple setup. A small circular platform and a table nearby with various sacred oils and ritualistic instruments. And the next Councillor was standing in the arena, too, with his back to Cel, clearly very uncomfortable. Cel’s face immediately turned red and she looked around for some way to explain what had just happened. Technically it wasn’t against the rules to piss on the floor of the trial arena, but it was shameful, and went completely against the image Cel had tried to create for herself at Medru Dalach. She was already practically a kid to everyone else at the academy, and while everyone could overlook one public incident, another happening for the exact same reason would be devastating for her.

                    But there was nothing Cel could blame but her own pride, so she cautiously approached Councillor Sentagon without a word. He turned around to face her when she got close, and they both seemed to be actively avoiding eye contact. Sentagon spoke first.

                    “Um, well… you, uh… you do know that wasn’t the kind of limit we were testing for, right?” He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “But, ah, are you alright? Do you need to go wash up or something first?”

                    “N-no, sir, I’m fine.” Cel’s legs came together again, if only to hide the fact that she was now bare beneath her skirt.

                    “You sure?” Sentagon cleared his throat. “Alright, well, I’ll just, uh, not tell anyone about this, and we’ll both pretend it never happened, yeah?” When Cel nodded silently, he went on. “It’s no big deal, this stuff happens. You see it a lot in ninety years, trust me. Ah, but, anyways.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Back to business. I’m actually down here because it’s the only way to figure out if you’re doing this correctly. Could have sent anyone down here, really, could even have you work with one of Renagor’s shadows, but I honestly don’t trust the judgment of anyone but myself with this. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to perform this particular ritual on anyone not of our faith anyways.”

                    “And this ritual is…?” Cel tugged at the front of her skirt. Suddenly it felt too small.

                    “You’re going to act like I’m being initiated as our High Priest. I expect you to perform this ritual exactly as if it were real, so do be careful with it.”

                    Cel leaned back a bit and raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s…”

                    “Monumentally rare, yes. Even, eh, even our Hierophants, we actually need to know it, but we’re never expected to do it. You were never expected to learn it, you never would have had to do it, but I know you know it and can do it anyways. So, am I right?”

                    There was a fierce nod from Cel and she spoke with her usual conviction. “Damn right, sir.”

                    The Councillor chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Now…” He reached up to his shoulder and untied the blue sash that served as part of his uniform, tossing it aside and letting it dissolve. Then he worked his way out of the white button shirt beneath, letting that disappear to the same place as the sash. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, turning to face the entrance to the arena and falling to one knee, his gaze immutably directed to the ground.

                    Cel walked over to the table nearby and set about looking through the bottles and tools upon it. “So, I don’t suppose you’re allowed to talk anymore, huh?”

                    “No.”

                    “Yeah, figures. Now, what was… Ah, yes…” She picked up a small vial of oil and a piece of yellow cloth from the table, ripping the cork from the vial with her teeth and soaking the fabric in its contents as thoroughly as possible. Then she brought the cloth to the Councillor and drew it down his back several times, hesitantly muttering in a long-forgotten language as she did so – she didn’t know what the words meant, hardly anyone did, but they were important. When she spoke the last word, accidentally making it sound like a question, the Councillor responded with conviction in the same language.

                    The cloth was left draped over Sentagon’s neck as Cel brought a bowl of water from the table. She lifted it above herself with another ancient word, waited for the Councillor’s response, then poured the contents over his head. She took a knife from the table and came around to Sentagon’s front – he was still staring at the ground as before, but now lifted up one arm. Cel drew blood from his hand, and Sentagon looked up slightly, with eyes shut – she took with two fingers the Councillor’s blood and pressed those fingers into his forehead, then did the same with her own blood. The cuts weren’t deep by any possible description, but she still pressed an open hand against each. Sentagon’s only response was a sharp breath as Cel’s hand grew hot enough to seal the wound, and she reacted vocally when she did the same to herself.

                    Then the cloth was brought over to cover Sentagon’s face, and he was pushed back so that his body was straight and his head was pointed towards the ceiling. Cel pressed a hand to his chest and there was a yellow glow for a moment, then the cloth was removed and more instruments brought out – this time a plain white cloth, a brush, and ink. The white cloth was used to remove the oil from Sentagon’s back, then, with the brush coated in ink, Cel drew sacred symbols onto the Councillor, slowly and carefully, while speaking another ancient prayer just as slowly. Sentagon responded firmly when she finished, then he stood and looked straight ahead.

                    A staff was brought out from the table, Cel bringing this to Sentagon’s front. They each held the staff with two hands, and Cel gave one last chant with her eyes closed. She let go of the staff when she’d finished, and the Councillor bowed his head, speaking a single ancient word.

                    Then he handed the staff back to Cel and stretched, a golden light removing the ink from his body and a swirl of dust returning his clothes to him.

                    “Alright, yes.” He reached up to his head and magically pulled the water from his hair, tossing it aside. “Fine, very good. I just need to check what the others saw you draw. It felt right, but I am clearly not in a position to render judgment on something I have not seen. You’ll hear the results soon.” Then he dissolved into a cloud of dust that shot up towards the observation room.

                    Cel took advantage of the downtime and used one of the spare cleaning cloths on her legs, which had only been made more wet by her earlier attempt at drying them off. There was a quiet gasp from her as the cloth found its way under her skirt, apparently also finding a sensitive spot – but there was no time to fool around with that, so she moved on and tossed the cloth to the side when she was done. The rest of her spare time was spent looking at the excess materials left for her, including a bottle of clean water that she downed – presumably it had been intended for refilling the bowl if something should have happened, but now it was a drink.

                    Her vision faded almost as soon as the bottle met with the table again, and the voice was that of Varassus this time, not Sentagon. “Well, that was… a rather unusual trial. I won’t pretend to know what Master Sentagon was thinking, but I trust him when he says he rendered you no aid, and I trust his judgment. Of course, all eight of us were watching and he requested our opinion to aid in his decision. Perhaps we are not the best at explaining what we saw, but Sentagon found our input adequate to render judgment on your trial.”

                    Cel’s vision returned, and her heart sank when she saw the arena was empty. Her mind was filled with thoughts of what she might have done wrong, and she hardly heard the Councillor’s announcement. She heard something, and froze. What was that he said? It didn’t sound like “failed”.

                    There was no time to consider this, though, and the next voice that rang out put her mind at ease. It was the last Councillor. “Well, I must say,” he started. “I am sorry to have ever doubted you, Cel. Honestly, I am… amazed at the challenges the others have given you today. And I’m equally amazed at how absolutely none of them seemed to be of any challenge at all. I’m also disappointed, because I know that there is nothing I can give you at this point that is going to stop you from joining us. I may have underestimated you, but now… Now the world is going to know who you are, and all you have to do is clear two more trials. There is no way that I can see that you would fail them, so consider this a break. Something simple that will allow you to rest in preparation for your last test.”

                    There was a blinding flash, and when it passed the arena was filled with what seemed to be walls made of light, waves of energy assembled into blocks that seemed to interact and intersect in impossible ways. There was only a little bit of clearly-visible ground in front of Cel, and all the rest of the arena was warped by the light-walls.

                    Clearly, it was a maze designed to get the occupant even more lost than a regular maze. And as just about anyone knew, a maze was trivial to someone who could teleport – therefore, teleporting would presumably be rewarded with a failure. How the Council would know, Cel wasn’t sure, as the light-walls formed a dome over the arena, blocking the Council’s view of the situation below. Still wouldn’t be a great idea for her to find out what would happen, not after getting this far and nearly humiliating herself once already.

                    So she just started walking. The opening to the maze was blocked off by a light-wall once she was inside, and Cel kept her eyes to the ground to avoid being distracted by the view through the walls. Or, she did, for a little while, until that turned out to be disorienting as well. She ended up getting horribly lost going around corners, so she decided to instead keep her left hand pressed against the wall, which was far more solid than it seemed. It was still hard to see any turns that weren’t immediate, but it would help with navigation somewhat. And for a while, Cel wandered around quietly through the maze with that as her tactic.

                    She wasn’t sure how far she’d gotten through the maze when she realized that things had caught up with her – the water from the previous trial, however necessary it was, had not reacted well with the fact that she was still half-full from her incident. Cel moved slowly and kept her legs close together. Hopefully the end was somewhat close. This time she’d surely get away for a break before the last trial began, just as soon as she could get out of the maze.

                    Whenever that would be.

                    Definitely seemed to be taking a while, and the walls of the maze meant it was impossible for Cel to tell if she’d already been to a particular part of it – no doubt she’d ended up walking back and forth through the same area for a while. And with things moving quite a bit faster than Cel would have preferred, she had to find a way out of the maze very soon. There was no way to tell time in the cave, of course, but however much time had passed between the end of the eighth trial and now, Cel had progressed to the point of having to stop every so often to press her legs together, occasionally letting a hand join in – nobody could see anyways.

                    Speaking of nobody to see…

                    No, she couldn’t do that. Well, she could, technically, but she wouldn’t allow herself to. It was bad enough that she’d let that happen just two trials ago, she was definitely not going to relieve herself somewhere inappropriate if she could help it.

                    That was starting to be quite a big “if”, though.

                    Before long, Cel had one hand that was quite content to remain wedged between her legs while she attempted to orient herself and escape the maze. She was reduced to a bit of an awkward shuffle, but she could last until the end.

                    Never mind that if she were to put a hand to her belly, it’d be ever so slightly inflated and harder than normal, or that the hand stuck between her legs was already getting wet. She’d be fine.

                    As long as she could find the exit soon. Had she already seen that corner? Was that even a corner? Everything looked the same, and the only indication that she’d already been to an area was that she was starting to leave a trail. But of course she could ignore that, it didn’t exist, it wouldn’t be a problem once she just got out of the damn maze.

                    Not much longer, she kept telling herself. Not much longer…

                    Too bad for Cel that her body was saying the same thing. She managed to pull her hand out from its position, only to double over in instant regret when her body realized there wasn’t anything left to physically block its relief – she did recover quickly enough, but not without getting a trail down her legs. She took a deep breath once she’d composed herself and looked down at her skirt. First off, it needed a good ironing, but more importantly there was a conspicuous dark patch on the front. Cel just groaned and tried to smooth her skirt out with her wet hand, creating a lighter streak.

                    After taking a moment to look around – for all the good that did – Cel stumbled forward, leaning on the wall to her left to maintain some sense of direction. Both hands were against the wall, one slightly ahead feeling for turns, the other serving to keep Cel some degree of upright. Each step added to the trail running down her legs and to the trail on the ground behind her, and before long she could have stood on dry ground and still have her feet in a puddle. Yet still she went on, until she rounded a corner, only to feel the walls turn her right back around again.

                    Rather than following the path out from the dead end, though, she stood there for a moment, legs trembling, and looked around in vain. “What…?” She started muttering, incoherent even to herself. “But, I don’t…”

                    She backed up against one of the walls surrounding her, closing her eyes and breathing heavily.

                    “Ah…”

                    There was no attempt to stop the wave of desperation that overtook her, and caused a large spurt to soak her legs and boots even further. Cel opened a single eye to look down and inspect the damage, and then her only reaction was to spread her legs and give up. She brought down a hand to move the front of her skirt out of the way just before the torrent started, then sighed as she soaked the arena floor for the second time in mere hours.

                    “Haah…” After a minute, Cel opened her eyes and looked around again. The puddle at her feet had already reached her boots and just seemed to be getting bigger, but considering they were wet on the inside too, there was little reason to adjust her stance. The walls were all as nonsensical as before, except… “Ah… W-wait… What’s…?” She stuck her head out as far as possible without moving from her spot, squinting and looking at the wall across the way. Something looked off about it, even moreso than all the other walls, but she wasn’t in much of a position to investigate. “Huh.” She leaned back and sighed again, keeping an eye on the suspicious wall while her stream gradually slowed down. Another minute and it had been reduced to occasional dripping, so Cel released her skirt and stepped out of her puddle, shaking her feet as she did so.

                    Her legs quickly grew cold and her feet were wet and uncomfortable as she headed toward the strange light, prompting her to pull at her lower half with magic in some attempt to clean herself – most of her urine came off and she tossed it aside, letting it strike a wall with an outlandish noise, though what was in her boots couldn’t be removed until she washed them later.

                    When she reached the wall, looking at it up close confirmed it was darker than its surroundings, and ever so slightly more transparent. Cel reached out to touch it and it rippled when her hand made contact, and when she pushed, the wall disappeared and she nearly fell over.

                    “What in th- Fucking kidding me?” When she regained her balance, she looked around mouthing “What” repeatedly and making exasperated hand motions. “Really that fucking close, right,” she muttered, “of course it would be. Fuck.”

                    Indeed, she needed only to take a few steps forward after breaking through the wall for a bright light to overwhelm her, taking the maze with it when it faded. Soon after, a cloud of dust formed into the Nine, with Varassus stepping forward once they were all present. Cel stepped back slightly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to smell what had happened.

                    If he could, he made no indication, instead giving a nod and a smile. “Excellent work, Cel. Yes, that all was… quite interesting, I must say.” Some of the other eight behind him either nodded along or gave Cel looks of encouragement. “Now, you’ve passed all nine of the individual trials. This tenth and final one is administered by all of the Nine Masters at once. We will do our best to stop you from joining us, but…” Varassus shrugged. “At this point I highly doubt there’s anything we can do to that end. Do you… need a moment to prepare?” He raised an eyebrow and looked Cel over, his gaze lingering a little on the dark spot on her skirt, which she quickly covered up with a hand.

                    Cel blushed and attempted to respond to the Councillor. “I, uh… I…” She took a deep breath and continued. “No, I’m ready.”

                    Councillor Varassus stretched out his arms to his sides. “Then let us begin.”

                   

  11. Polt was a kobold of many, many talents, but a weakness of hers became apparent as she sat alone in the manager's office of Sports Club Kobold: she was restless. There was nothing to do, and she was getting fidgety just waiting around. She had organized her desk three times in the last hour, taken multiple jogs around the gym grounds, and the only thing keeping her from taking a nap in her chair was a limitless amount of energy.

    "There's nothing worse than the wait before a new business opens," Polt whined, tapping her claws on the wooden desk. While Sports Club Kobold would be the first interspecies exercise parlor in Japan, thanks to the recent Interspecies Exhange Bill, that distinction required a lot of fine-tuning on her end to make it practical and inclusive. She was lucky to have a group of monster girls willing to be volunteers, running trials that revealed a lot of the facility's shortcomings, but all that meant that orders for furnishing and remodeling had been placed and construction was proceeding, leaving Polt with nothing to do herself.

    Today's project was a complete shutdown of the building's plumbing to remodel the restrooms after one of the volunteers, an ogre named Tionishia, had discovered that the toilets were not suitable for use by some larger species. And, because the human contractors weren't so accustomed to installing monster-sized commodes, it was taking much longer than anticipated to complete.

    A fact that Polt was all too aware of right now, as she shifted her legs one on top of the other, squeezing them together as she squirmed in her seat and elicited a small squeal inside her mouth. It was shortly after noon, and because of her forty-kilometer morning jog after leaving home at the crack of dawn, the construction crew had arrived at Sports Club Kobold before her and began their work. Combined with the ample quantity of water consumed during that run, the office was currently home to a very desperate kobold. "Mmph..."

    It wasn't just the lack of access to the restrooms that was annoying, but all the alternatives also made unavailable really irritating Polt. While both gender bathrooms were being worked on, despite the vast majority of monster species being female, other drainage solutions were still present and unoccupied. If she needed to go after a long workout, there was no shame in relieving herself in the shower, making a pit stop there seemed like a good solution to her current conundrum. If only the water to the entire building hadn't been shut off, robbing her of the ability to wash away the evidence.

    She swiveled her chair to face the large windows decorating one of the walls of her office, looking outside for some distraction. While the crowds of people walking by, and the birds flying, did grab her attention, there was something else out there more pressing, diverting her gaze to its allure: the trees. Polt was also no stranger to doing her business outdoors, in case her time management was off and she found herself desperate while on walkies. She could practically picture it, tugging her shorts down and squatting behind a thick grove of bushes, letting a healthy stream of urine gush from her privates. That fire hydrant on the street corner was looking pretty tempting...

    "...not a good idea." Polt was about as far from being a shy girl as one could get, but undressing in front of hundreds of strangers to pee was asking a lot of her. She'd need to be seriously ready to burst to consider that. "Still..." While the flora in view was out of the question, it had given the kobold an idea, and her ears perked up as hope returned. "I'm going stir-crazy in this office, a good walk is exactly what I need! It's only a couple kilometers to the park, it'll be a great way to get the blood flowing and find a place to go!" A bright smile broke out across her muzzle, showing off her white canines as she jumped up to her paws, tail vigorously wagging behind her.

    Luckily for her, she didn't need to change clothes to be properly dressed for a run. She was still dressed in her usual exercise attire, consisting of a black tank top, loose white shorts, with sneakers and a sweatband to top it off. Now that she had set her mind to it, nothing could stop her as she ran out the office, right out the gym onto the street, ready to run and more than ready to pee.

    ---------------

    "Whew...phew...made good time." Over ten kilometers in fifteen minutes, not a personal best for Polt, but impressive nonetheless. Being active and getting sweaty was a kobold's favorite pastime, she could practically feel her worries wash away in the perspiration running through her fur. And her destination was also comforting, a dog park close enough to her home and work to make it a frequent stop on her runs. Clean, colorful, lots of people and their pets, it was relaxing.

    Well, not relaxing enough to ignore the discomfort that no amount of exertion could distract from, a different bodily fluid wanting to escape as she continued to push herself. Her desperation had grown no easier in the travel, and it was really, really bad now. Her bladder was throbbing beneath her sculpted stomach, pulsating and working its hardest to push the volume of warm urine it carried out, only held back by Polt's willpower. Now that she had come to a stop, and no one was paying any special attention to her, she pressed both large paws against the crotch of her shorts with moderate force, feeling the firm paw pads on her palms press the loose, airy fabric and panties beneath right where they needed to press.

    As good as it felt to hold, it was all too clear that it wouldn't satisfy for long. She really needed a toilet, immediately if possible. Thankfully, that was covered as well, because she had reasons other than fond feelings in choosing the park as her end goal. She passed through her frequently, ran all its paths, she knew the layout by heart, and most prominently, where the public restrooms lay. After all, they had been her salvation many times, when she would occasionally forget to use her own amidst the morning excitement. And they weren't far, either! She wasted no time bolting in their direction, pulling her paws from her crotch, so as not to draw leery eyes. Though, she wasn't as bouncy as usual, her gait much stiffer and straighter.

    Well, they weren't far with her usual running speed as the benchmark. At a more rigid walking pace, it was taking significantly longer to cross the distance. Many other joggers, walkers, and dog owners passed her by as she traveled the gravel roads, the dogs usually barking at her. Somehow, maybe through animal solidarity, they could tell something was wrong. Then again, maybe they knew because every step Polt took was deliberate, one of her fangs was poking out from her mouth, biting her bottom lip, taking any chance to press against her shorts. Polt was not a subtle girl.

    And her need was about to get a whole lot less subtle. The path she had absentmindedly taken went down the shore of a pond, one creeping close to the sidewalk, so close that the sound of rippling water from ducks landing in the center rang loud in a kobold's large ears. She let her guard down for just a second, and in that tiny span, her bladder had its way. "Eep!" A small smattering of pee splattered out from her urethra into her underwear, warming her crotch with its damp, dirty wash.

    Snapping her thighs closed with the speed and force of a crab's pincers, squeezing the little moisture that had made its home in her underwear into a wider area, Polt managed to successfully command her bladder to heel. It was a close call, almost able to hear the urine pent up inside her pleading to drench her shorts, but she remained the master. For now.

    The second surge came almost immediately afterwards, as her small, sensitive nose picked up a light scent wafting upwards, emanating from underneath her shorts, where just a little tinkle resided. She was well-hydrated, so her pee had very little odor, but her heightened senses still clearly recognized it, sending her spiraling with another desperate urge. She obviously couldn't see what was transpiring below, but the smell growing twice as strong told the whole story. Polt didn't dare separate her legs now, for fear that there would be a lot more urine gushing out should she do so.

    Keeping pressure on her crotch this way was going to make walking difficult, though. So, after close to a minute had passed, Polt all the while rubbing her thighs against one another as her hips swayed, she finally felt confident enough to spread her feet and return to a slightly more natural posture. The shivering, frazzled fur, and ears on end still gave away that something was wrong with the kobold. With the way she was frantically looking around, it wasn't impossible to guess.

    Luckily for her, that frenzied searching had its upsides as well. Without scanning every bit of the nearby scenery, admittedly mostly for a secluded bush, she wouldn't have seen something off in the distance, obscured by trees, benches, and light poles: the small brick shack she had laid eyes on many a time before, the one she knew contained the little monster girl's room. Her tongue popped out from between her lips as a drop of drool fell loose onto her endowed chest. It took a concerted effort to shake herself free of the haze, but she did so, and almost immediately began dashing for it, paws firmly against the front of her shorts, all in the name of holding.

    With her fit kobold speed, the time elapsed between the first step and skidding to a stop was brief. That didn't mean it was easy, of course, exerting herself at such a delicate time. "Don't think about how much you leaked, don't think about how much you leaked..." She could absolutely feel the soaking in her panties grow warmer and wetter, like it could be showing through the thin fabric of her white shorts. All the more reason to keep her big paws covering the spot, no matter what strange looks it attracted.

    But there it was, right in front of her eyes, the universal symbol denoting the women's restroom. All she needed to do was push, straining to remove her right paw to do so, and leaned against the door with the full weight of her body. But it didn't budge. "Wha?" Pulling back, she slammed the door again, hearing it move a fraction of a millimeter before hitting a barrier. "You're kidding me! It's locked?!" It was only in that moment of despair that she noticed the piece of paper taped just beneath the gender sign, its words clear and concise: Out of Order.

    It took Polt several seconds to process the words before her, but when the meaning finally sunk in, her eyes widened, her jaw fell, and her bladder leaked. "Really?! Of all the times!" She had run all the way here, and the toilets were no more usable than the ones at the gym! In a fit of desperation, she even ran to the opposite door, the men's room door, and found the exact same warning pasted to that entrance, just as locked.

    Now Polt was in a real pickle. She had spent so much of her available time before an accident just making it here, and now that this opportunity had been swept away from under her, the accident seemed inevitable. Burying her paws between her thighs like a bone in the dirt, she began bouncing on her heels, jiggling her right leg as she continued to lower herself further and further into a squat with each shake, only tempting her body even further.

    "Maybe I should just go for it right here..." While that proposition did sound nice, there were still people that would see if she were to yank her shorts off here. Not the end of the world, but still something to be avoided while there was still a chance. But was there a chance? Her panties were soaked now, and a particularly powerful jet of pee when she was almost down to the ground ensured that it had to have broken through to her shorts now. It might not be visible on the waterproof fabric, regardless of the color, but she couldn't tell. The warm liquid hitting her paw pads was worrisome enough.

    As hope continued to fade, one thought kept nagging at her subconscious, one image forcing its way to the forefront of her mind. This bathroom building was on the very edge of a treeline, and directly behind it was a thick grove of trees. She had never needed to consider that area before, given that it was much easier to use the real toilet immediately adjacent to those woods. However, now that these bathrooms were non-options... "Time to water some plants!" She could hardly be more accepting of the circumstances as she hopped to her feet and ran behind the structure, one or two drops snaking down her thigh from the jolt.

    Because the distance was so minuscule, she ran the distance in almost no time. And if she wet her panties any further on the way, she didn't notice, she couldn't with how drenched she already was. But nothing was going to slow her down now, not when she could see the greenery, smell the chlorophyll permeating the air, hear the footsteps of the people grow ever so slightly quieter and farther away.

    The pieces had all fallen into place. While she hadn't found a physical barrier to conceal herself behind, there were enough scattered obstructions to reasonably ensure she had privacy, and that was enough. Gripping the elastic waistband of her athletic shorts and underwear simultaneously with her trimmed claws, she pushed the garments straight down, exposing her kibbles and girly bits to the open air. She didn't even wait for the path from her privates to be clear before she bent her knees and squatted with her feet apart.

    Purely by coincidence, the instant she wouldn't drench her clothes with the impending flood, it began. No build up, no struggle, no effort, just a mighty, gushing, fire hose of a pee. It was perfectly clear and only had a light smell to her powerful nose, but it hissed like an angry lamia, splashed like white-water rapids, and drops jumped back up onto her socks and ankles like a high-dive into a pool.

    And to Polt, it was one of the most sublime experiences of her life. "Haaahahahhaaaaaaaa..." Just letting go of her bursting bladder and letting its contents drain into the dry dirt felt wonderful, as the radiating warmth on this mildly chilly day blew across her fur. The soil couldn't even handle the downpour all at once, the majority instead gathering and quickly expanding a puddle from where the stream crashed down, bubbles forming on the surface and slowly drifting outwards.

    Once again, her tongue drooped out as she started breathing heavily, panting with ecstasy as her bright blue eyes shone, her ears folded back, and her tail began sweeping the ground behind her, kicking up a small cloud of dust. While it wasn't exactly her preferred method of doing business, there was just something about peeing outside that felt...liberating, natural, correct. She was no slouch when it came to urine capacity, so the volume spouting out was quite respectable for her size. The puddle, quickly turning into an ocean, continued to spread until it was completely surrounding the soles of her sneakers.

    Of course, at that power, it was only a matter of time before her stream diminished. It was no short time, but it came to pass while Polt was still enjoying it, a solid minute later. It first went down to what one would normally expect from an average potty break, managed to stay at that level for a surprisingly long time, and then dropped off to nothing but dribbles and spurts, a stage that didn't last long before the kobold had peed it all out. "Mmmmmm...good..."

    She took a second, or two, or two dozen, to recover from the bliss after it had ended, far more out of breath than any workout could cause. "Phew...haven't needed to go like that in a long time! Felt good to go, but it's nice to be done!" However, the sound of one stray drop falling directly beneath her reminded that she wasn't totally finished yet. "Oh, should find something to wipe with." She looked and looked, as far as her head could turn, but she had picked a barren piece of land to plop down and go for it, a place where no leaves could be found. "Looks like I might need a change of underwear when I get back. Oh wait, I don't think I have any. Then I guess it'll be pantyless for today!" The sky blue undergarment was pretty wet, now that she could see them, wearing those the rest of the day wouldn't be comfy, especially not with the frequent movement she was known for. Hoping to spare the poor cloth any further damage, she shook her butt and dislodged any stray drips stubbornly clinging on.

    Suddenly, the sound of rustling dirt caught Polt's attention, as her ears perked up and located the direction of the noise. Whatever it was, she wasn't alone, and she didn't need to wait long to see who was approaching: another girl, slender with light hair, but with large wings on her back and green scaled arms, walking pretty stiff and uncomfortable, biting her bottom lip and looking around carefully. Polt recognized her. One of her side jobs was rehabilitation of monster delinquents, where she had amassed a small group, and this girl was one of the members. "Hey there, Draco!" She jumped up to greet the dragonewt, excited to talk and catch up.

    Draco jumped high in surprise, hearing the kobold's loud voice. Clearly, Polt had gotten the upper hand, or paw, on detecting the other. "P-Polt?!" She jolted to look over at the trainer, and violently reacted once again, staggering back with her arms covering her eyes. "W-what are you doing?!"

    Polt tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong, Draco?" While the dragonewt wasn't usually happy to see her, the reaction was never this extreme.

    "You need to pull your pants back up!"

  12.  

    Chris, Sean's and Richard's friend, was throwing a very grand party indeed. It was all set up in the hotel's great banquet hall. Unfortunately for Sean, the hall was jam packed with people they knew. People they had to meet, come what may. 

     
    The next circle of friends had joined them. As they talked and laughed, Richard glanced at Sean with a little smirk on his face. 
    Despite the wide grin on his face, it was clear that he was panicking. His eyes were a little pink and wide. His face, pale. Every now and then, he tugged up his slim-fit pants by its waistband, ran a hand over his swollen bladder and shoved his hands into his pants pocket while shifting on his feet. 
     
    "Friends!" A voice bellowed from the stage ahead of them. 
     
    They turned to see Chris, all dressed up in a shining tuxedo. "So here's the surprise I've been dying to tell you all." Smiling, he paused to look around the hall, checking to see if any of them could guess what it was. "Catherine and I are finally getting married." 
     
    A round of gasps erupted. Then, a huge round of applause. 
     
    "This is amazing!" 
     
    Richard heard a random comment and glanced over at Sean to see him clapping his hands. 
     
    The applause died down and Chris continued to talk upstage. 
     
    Sean stuffed his hands back into his pocket and shifted on his feet again. 
     
    Richard leaned towards him and spoke quietly. "How are you doing?"
     
    Sean glanced at him and rolled his eyes while sighing. "I can't do this," he hissed. 
     
    "Yes, you can."
     
    "No, I can't. If I don't pee now, I'll be in trouble."
     
    "I still don't see the erection."
     
    "I can't have it in here. Not with all these people! Are you crazy?"
     
    "Fine. You want to pee?"
     
    "Since long!"
     
    "Okay, go and pee. But don't come back to me after that."
     
    "Richie..."
     
    "No, I mean it."
     
    "Can we at least cut down on the time? You're asking me to hold it till we get home, which is ridiculous. I already have to pee so badly. How the hell am I going to hold it all night?" Sean spoke in a frantic whisper. 
     
    "I don't know. Just do it. And... that's where your erection comes in. It will lock in your piss."
     
    "Don't you get it? I can't get erect in here."
     
    "You will, if you're full enough. Problem is... you aren't."
     
    Sean held his tongue for a moment, clearly seething. He grabbed Richard's hand and placed it over his bladder. "Tell me now. Tell me that I'm full." He gnashed his teeth. 
     
    Richard was stunned at the sudden move. He wasn't expecting that. He allowed his hand to rest over Sean's bladder for a moment, feeling its hardness. Indeed, it was full. Maybe not a hundred percent, but easily close to that. "Not enough," he smirked and gave a couple of pats, sending jolts into Sean's aching bladder. "Erections happen when you really-really-REALLY have to pee. And when I say that, it means, desperately. You aren't desperate enough."
     
    "I am."
     
    "It's time to raise your bar. I still say you're not desperate enough."
     
    "I told you that I am. I'm just aching since so long."
     
    "Simply aching doesn't mean you're ready. You will be when you really fear losing it. When you feel that hard push of pee struggling to get out, and then you succeed in holding it back, and you feel your cock throbbing. Until, the first jet of pee spurts out. And then another. And then another."
     
    "Are you crazy? I can't do all that in here!" Sean spat and leaned in closer. 
     
    "Who's asking you to? Hold it in. That's how you get hard."
     
    Frustrated, Sean hissed and bend over a little and peeked into Richard's face. Sean was a good 6'3. Richard was close. "See, listen to me. Let's do all of this at home. Trust me! I'll do anything that you want. Tie me up. Make me wear what you want. Make me get the biggest erection ever. Make me hold it all day. Heck, even a couple of leaks for you."
     
    "That won't be an honest erection, Sean. Here, with all these people, you can't lie."
     
    Sean sighed and gulped hard. He was close to that criteria Richard mentioned. His cock was throbbing after a huge surge of pee desperation. "Can we at least sit down somewhere? I can't hold on like this."
     
    "I'd suggest you keep standing," Richard said coyly. "Challenge yourself."
     
    "I'll have an accident," Sean argued. "Do you want me to hold it or just piss myself?"
     
    Richard raised his eyebrows and smirked. "I see your point. Come, let's sit."
     
    They sat at a rectangular table for six. As soon as he sat down, Sean squeezed his thighs shut, fanned them and gently edged on the chair. 
     
    Richard watched him, feeling aroused. He wasn't lying. He really did have to pee. And probably, he's close to exploding. 
     
    Quietly, without being noticed, Richard slipped a hand under the table and stealthily slithered over Sean's thigh. 
     
    Sean gave him a bewildered look. "What're you doing?" he whispered. 
     
    "Checking you out?"
     
    Richard moved his hand to Sean's crotch, where his slim-fit pants were bunched up like a tent. He groped gently in an attempt to find his dick. With his pants being tight and fitting, and the ever-growing hardness, it wasn't hard to find Sean's penis. "Hmm, slowly getting hard, eh?"
     
    Gulping hard, Sean looked away and jiggled a leg. His face was getting red from it all... getting touched there, the arousal, the fear of being seen... and the desperate the urge to urinate. 
     
    "You're doing good," Richard encouraged and continued to feel Sean's penis, holding it gently and progressing from the base to the tip. 
     
    Sean squeezed his eyes for a moment and pressed down on his lips. Being touched there while having to pee desperately was a different feeling altogether. Groaning quietly, he opened his eyes and let out a long, quiet puff. 
     
    "What?" Richard smirked at him. 
     
    He said nothing. He just clenched his abdomen. Richard could feel him do this again and again, a sign that he was working out on his pee muscles in a desperate attempt to not wet himself. 
     
    "I'll piss myself," he heard Sean whimper with his head down. He could hardly talk. Squeezing his thighs tightly together and slowly bobbing his legs up and down, he leaned forward as the need to void his bladder built to extreme levels. His hand shot out to grab his penis which was already held by Richard. 
     
    "What happened?" asked Richard. 
     
    Sean was so red in the face. He was holding on with everything he's got. He tightened his hold over Richard's hand which was over his thrumming penis. 
     
    "It's that feeling, isn't it?" asked Richard in an excited whisper. "The pee pushing hard to get out?"
     
    "Hmm." Sean nodded. He rocked back and forth on his chair. 
     
    "It's okay, you'll make it," Richard assured and held Sean's hardening cock like a pencil, sliding up and down his shaft, slowly at first, then, faster, by a step, then two... then more. It didn't take long for his form to grow by an inch or two. 
     
    Sean exhaled while edging on his seat, as if humping Richard's hand. It felt like a hand job, the best hand job yet. 
     
    "What?" asked Richard, smirking. 
     
    "We need to find a bathroom," suggested Sean.
     
    "If it's to pee, then, I object."
     
    "No," Sean denied. 
     
    "I don't believe you." Richard let go off Sean's penis and leaned back onto his chair. 
     
    Sean shot at him, bewildered. "Why'd you stop?"
     
    "Because you were breaking the rule," replied Richard smugly. "You're supposed to get an erection on your own. Solely out of your desperation."
     
    Sean sighed in defeat and grabbed his hard on. He had to hold on till his "deadline" was completed. However, he hoped that Richard would let him go sooner. From the looks of it, he didn't think he could hold on that long. His bladder and penis hurt so bad from holding onto all the urine that was filling up by the minute. 
     
    The next one hour was pure torture for Sean as the diuretic continued to fill up his bladder to stretching point. He should have taken at least three bathroom breaks by now, instead, he had none. 
     
    When Richard looked at Sean, he was fanning his legs and edging at the same time. There was a clear, stiff bend in the fabric over his crotch. He wouldn't call it just a "bend". It was an erection. A good, solid erection that was still growing. He reached out and held it like a wand. 
     
    Sean hissed, his belly and crotch sucking in. He banged his thighs shut and placed his hand over Richard's, right where his hard on was standing proud. "Don't," he pleaded. 
     
    "Why not?"
     
    "Just don't. It makes it worse."
     
    "Makes what worse?"
     
    "Urine," he mumbled.
     
    "What urine?"
     
    "Urination," Sean repeated. "I'm just dying to go piss."
     
     "You're right. You do have to go. It's just so tight in there." Saying this, Richard rubbed over the stiffness in Sean's crotch, teasing his need to pee. 
     
    "Don't. Please."
     
    "Rubbing it will help," Richard suggested. "Let me do it for you." Saying this, he went on to stroke his penis which was still within his pants and dying to let out the liquids in his bladder. 
     
    Sean leaned forward, clenching his belly. He exhaled as a wave of pleasure coupled with intense desperation washed over his entire body. Wanting faster relief from the huge need to urinate, he grabbed his cock which was now erect in his pants. He clenched it hard and wrung the tip, as if doing so will suppress the desperation. "That's it, I'm going to the bathroom." He shot to his feet and Richard quickly pulled him down. 
     
    "So does this mean that we're over?"
     
    "No!!! We aren't. Baby, if I don't go now, I'll piss myself."
     
    "I swear, the minute you go, I'll walk out of here. And you'll never even find me again."
     
    Sighing and in desperate tears, Sean gave in and continued to labor through another hour of extreme pee desperation. 
     
  13. This post will serve as a one stop shop for finding all the short stories written to fill out the Legacy of Gold universe!

     

  14. Latest Entry

    0556_KOT_A10.png

    "Hahah, you're not very good at this game, are you Risa?"

    Kotarou looks at me with a grin as the words "Game over!" echo from the television screen.

    "Oh, you think you can do better then? Here~"

    I hand the controller over to Kotarou, who happily snatches it up and plops down on the cushion in front of me with a grin.

    After my humiliating.. er, incident, earlier this evening.. I got the pleasure of having Kotarou help me get showered and cleaned up. Which, of-course, came with endless teasing, that didn't stop until I reminded her how she not too long ago completely soiled herself in my car too.

    Afterwards, with the storm still going on outside, I decided to play some games in my bedroom with the two. A perfect distraction.

    It seems to be working, too. Kotarou's been having so much fun taking turns with me she seems to have almost completely tuned out the noise outside.

    "Fufufu~, I win again!" Kotarou exclaims as she easily beats the level I was stuck on.

    1018_RIS_A73.png

    "There's no way you haven't played this game before." I say with a bit of an annoyed expression.

    The game being the new Crash Bandicoot N. Sane Trilogy. It's been so many years since I played the original, and I only got the game recently, so I have had little time to play it myself.

    "I haven't! Maybe I'm just better at video games than you, Risa~" Kotarou teases as she looks back and sticks her tongue out at me.

    Oh, that's how it is, huh? Let's see if I can put this snarky little pup in her place.

    As Kotarou begins the next level, I sneakily make my hands up her armpits and begin a vicious tickle attack, causing her to promptly slip up fall off a ledge.

    "Ahaha.. hahahaha! Hahahahaha, h-hey, s-stop that!"

    Ohoho? It turns out she's even more ticklish than I expected.

    "What was that you were saying? If you're so good at this, beat this level and I'll stop!"

    She attempts the same level again, and for a moment I ease up on the tickling.. until she gets to the most challenging part of the level, and then I begin my attack again.

    She somehow suffers through until the tickles make her accidentally spin and blow herself up with a TNT box.

    "Hahahahaha! Aha.. hahaha, d-damnit Risa! Hahahaha!"

    I grin madly as I continue the attack, noticing the doggy girls' legs shifting and writhing together.

    "Pffft, now why did you do that?"

    "Y-You made my hand slip!! T-This is not fair! Hahaha! Not fair at all!", Kotarou barely stammers this out between giggles.

    "Well, hurry up and try again, beat the level and I'll stop!"

    Even as I let off on the tickle torture, I can feel Kotarou's squirming around restlessly on the cushion, bringing about an evil grin on my face.

    I let her play most of the level normally this time, reveling in the sight of her butt squirming around between obstacles. She ends up dying a few times before running towards the end, on her very last life, and then..

    I strike!

    The doggy girl does her best to ignore me and concentrate on the level.

    But I keep up the tickling, even letting my hand trail up to her chest and give her breasts a teasing squeeze between tickles as she jumps in surprise.

    Spurt!

    "R-Risa, hahaha, y-you pervert!"

    Spurrrrt!

    Dyxsjb_VYAAIXsC.png

    In Kotarou's frantic attempt to remain focused and complete the level, she doesn't even seem to notice as a lengthy, strong splurt of warm liquids force their way out of her, rapidly soaking through the fabric of her jeans and pooling under her backside and soaking into the cushion.

    Despite my best efforts, Kotarou rushes to the end and completes the level. Though, as soon as the "level complete" screen turns up, she realizes her dilemma.

    "A-ah, ah crap!" Kotarou's cheeks glow a shade of red as the doggy girl shoves the controller into her crotch to stem the flow.

    "R-Risa! I won! I won! Now let me up! We had a deal!"

    I think to let her go, savoring the thought of watching Kotarou rush desperately to the restroom with streams running down her legs, when..

    Pbbrrrtttt!

    Kotarou does something that makes the controller (which is still jammed firmly up her crotch) vibrate aggressively.

    "A-ah! Oh-ohhhh~!!"

    That audible moan is enough to make both me and Mikan (who has been gawking at the entire situation from my bed rather dumbfounded) blush, though not nearly as much as Kotarou, who instantly lets go of the controller and clamps her hands over her mouth.

    Bad idea for her._

    Pffsshhhhhsssss~!

    Suddenly, the flood gates burst open and a roaring hiss can he heard as a gush of warm liquids splurt out from Kotarou's nether regions, sending a dark splotch running down her thighs before pooling up over her legs, turning her lap a glistening, dark blue before soaking into her butt.

    It's not long before I feel those same warm liquids pooling back from the seat cushion and soaking into my own jean shorts.

    I burst into laughter as Kotarou suddenly jumps up and attempts a futile rush towards the toilet, only to slip on the floor cushion and, in quite an awkward display, fall face forward right on top of me with her crotch buried right in my face.

    Feeling the warmth of Kotarou's still very soggy jeans pressing against my face sends blood rushing to my face, but I still can't stop giggling as Kotarou lets out a resounding, long frustrated cry of defeat.

    "Hahahah, K-Kotarou, get off me! I can't breathe!"

    Kotarou, looks down at me for a moment, before her ears perk up and a smirk appears on her face.

    "What was that Risa? I'm afraid I couldn't hear you~?"

    Kotarou pushes herself up slightly and I begin to make my way out from under her.

    "I said-"

    SQUISH!~

    "Mmmph!"

    Without warning, I find Kotarou's soaking wet butt planted right on my face.

    "A-ah, Risa!", I hardly hear Mikan's concerned pleas as Kotarou teasingly wriggles her derriere against my face, eliciting more squishes.

    0713_MIK_A61.png

    I open my mouth to yell for her to get off, but instead of words, all I find breaking out from my lips is a heavy moan of pleasure.

    "Mmphh, nnnhhhohhh~!"

    My legs shift and squirm wildly as I weakly try to fight free, which merely causes Kotarou to laugh harder.

    "Hahahah! Risa, you're such a pervert! Let's see how much you like this then!"

    With my hands cupped around Kotarou's rear, I'm hardly able to squeeze and push enough to lift her an inch before a familiar hiss fills my ears.

    "K-Kotarou, you aren't! Don't you dare!"

    The blue-haired doggy girl looks down at me with a smirk as all but her wagging tail relaxes again, and sure enough, moments later a hot, glistening golden liquid comes cascading down and soaking into her bottom before sending several rivulets splashing down onto my already dampened face.

    I try to push harder, but Kotarou fights back and easily overpowers me, and I'm met with yet another, much squishier impact of the doggy girls' butt planting itself back onto my face, warm liquids pooling and streaming down all the while.

    I squeeze and push harder, but all this does is make Kotarou wriggle her butt against me more and I can't help but let out another loud moan as some warm liquids pool into my mouth.

    Oh god.

    My face contorts as I have no option but to swallow some of it, and my hands collapse as I submit to my fate.

    A few moments later, once Kotarou finally finishes emptying her aching bladder, she lets herself up and I'm finally able to breathe again.

    I look up to see Kotarou who, despite standing there in completely drenched jeans, is smirking with accomplishment. Mikan on the other hand, is blushing thoroughly through a covered face.

    After gathering my breath, I sit up and let out a sigh, using my sleeve to wipe some of the urine off my face before facing Kotarou and sticking my tongue out defiantly.

    "You know, you call me a pervert, but I think you enjoyed that a little too much."

    Kotarou just grins and sways her soggy tush at me, wet tail wagging all the while.

    During this time, I notice Mikan's gone oddly silently and won't stop shifting in place.

    0703_MIK_A32.png

    "Uhm, Mikan? Do you gotta pee now too?"

    "A-ah, n-no!" Mikan jumps, cheeks red and quickly waves her arms.

    Kotarou looks back and forth between the two of us, before sniffing in Mikan's general direction, and grinning again.

    "Mikan~ are you taking after your masters perverted ways? It seems someone else is feeling frisky now too~".

    Both of our cheeks burn a deep shade of red. "W-what are you talking about?" I exclaim, as the orange haired doggy girl stammers out "M-Mikan is not, she just, just, uhm!"

    Kotarou just bursts out laughing again before leaning into me with a sly grin, ears perked up and tail still wagging.

    "Don't you know, Risa? Our sensitive noses allow us to pick up all kinds of things.. ..and right now, you're drenched in pheromones.. among other things!"

    W-what? Obviously I know anthropoid's have sensitive noses, but.. surely she's making that up.

    My face turns even redder as I take a step back. "S-so.. every time I've been.. ..you could tell?"

    Kotarou leans back and grins with a proud look on her face. "Of-course, nothing slips by my sense of smell~"

    I feel shivers run up my spine. "That is a complete invasion of privacy, you know!"

    Kotarou laughs again.

    "Don't worry, Risa~ unlike me, it seems Mikan can only subconsciously pick up the scent. But even so, when a pet has such strong feelings for their master.. it's natural for them to react to their masters feelings and urges."

    Kotarou gently nudges a still very blushy Mikan into my direction.

    0556_KOT_A10.png

    "So, maybeee.. you should accept responsibility for what you've done to her, while I go to take a shower~"

    I stand there flustered for a moment, looking down at Mikan as she shyly returns my gaze, before a cooling sensation below snaps my back to reality.

    "H-hey, wait a minute, you're not the only one who needs a showe-!"

    I try to call out, but she's already made her way to the bathroom and locked the door.

    Leaving just a very blushy Mikan and I.

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    Recent Entries

    Hey!

     

    Since finding out Omorashi was, well, a ‘thing’ that other people actually enjoy as well, I’ve felt a lot happier and more confident exploring. Everyone here’s been really nice, which is lovely. 

     

    I’ve been super busy lately, and it’s been a long time since I’ve held for any real length of time. With a bit of luck I’ll have some free time early next week for a reasonably long hold, and can’t wait! I hope to write  it up for the wetting experiences forum, maybe. Writing really helps me focus on how I actually feel, in the moment. 

     

    PS.

    (I’m also toying with the idea of pull-ups. I’m not in the least bit little, but having read a few experiences here, I’m curious as to how it might feel. Who knows, it might save on laundry...)

     

     

  15. So your girl is going to be doing a 72 hour padded challenge to beat her existing 48 hour record. For practical reason's I'll be mostly using pullups and giving myself a bathroom break every 4-6 hours.....

     

    Wish me luck!

    😉

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    A little about me:

    Pronouns: He/Him

    age:23 

    height: 6’2”

    weight: 150lbs

    How often I hold: depends on my mood. If I’m in a desperate mood, 2-3 times a week. When I’m not, I don’t hold at all, but if I do hold because of situations or circumstances it can throw me back into it.

    type of employment: construction involving a lot of time on the road and semi-frequent travel. 

    Things I’m into: holding, omutsu (wetting), peeing in interesting places.

    Requests: if they interest me.

  16. With thanks to DerivativeWings and Phoenix (lordbardak) for editing

     

    She needed to relieve herself. Brighid had found it more and more difficult to deny this fact as the hours had passed. What had started as a minor nuisance had only grown more discomforting, distracting, and worrisome with each new drop filtering into her distended bladder. Other priorities, like keeping track of specific ingredients to collect, or their overall objective in Torna, didn’t seem as important as the pressure in her groin she could be releasing, but still chose not to.

    This wager of hers was ridiculous, and she knew it. His Majesty would no doubt be less than thrilled to get wind of this, and she was even contemplating not writing about it in her diary. Still, she could not abandon it now. Finding something to claim superiority at over Mythra may help in teaching the Aegis a lesson or two in humility. The good she could accomplish with that would be worth whatever pain and embarrassment this contest could bring her.

    But this challenge had proven more difficult than she expected. Mythra, usually the first to declare her urge to urinate, was rather quiet on that subject. It should’ve been a pleasant thing, but it also made it difficult to gauge Brighid’s desperation against hers. The only clue that she needed to pee had come from her sloppier-than-usual fighting, which had come quite in handy when she needed to counter Mythra’s surprise pressuring a moment ago.

    Despite resisting Mythra’s attempt at playing mind games, Brighid had a feeling the worst was yet to come, and she was headed right for it.

    “Are you sure we can both fit behind there?” asked Haze up ahead.

    “I’m sure,” replied Lora, “And if not, we’ll be far enough where it hopefully shouldn’t matter.”

    Brighid looked to what the other ladies spoke of. Not far from the villa was a set of large stone structures that rose up and curved like a rib-cage over a pond. Standing behind it would put them out of sight from the rest of the group, the most privacy they could ask for out here.

    “That’s good,” said Haze, her hips shaking quite a bit as she walked. “I would hate to have us take turns.”

    “Me too!” Lora nodded with one hand resting near her groin. As they reached the rock, she turned around to face Brighid. “Um, we’ll just be a couple minutes, if you don’t mind the wait.”

    Brighid kept her posture as upright as possible while she spoke. “It’s quite alright. Take as much time as you both need.” Though preferably not too long, she mentally added.

    With a nod, both Lora and Haze strode over behind the rock, their motions no longer hiding what they were about to do. Brighid sighed as she turned around and put her back to the stone. She did her best to focus on her view of the countryside as another pang of pressure emanated from her crotch. It was expected, given that she was in a place designated as okay to relieve yourself in, and she wasn’t doing that. She just had to keep steeling herself as normal.

    But all the preparation in the world would’ve done little for what came next.

    Brighid’s entire body tensed up as she heard it: the sound of water forcibly splattering on the ground just behind her. Judging from the volume and myriad small noises, she surmised that both ladies had let go as one, and neither of them had exaggerated their need for relief. A second later, and she picked up a hum from Lora and a sigh from Haze, telltale signals of satisfaction.

    Worst of all, however, was the effect these these noises had on her. Immediately, the urge to let go became that much worse, forcing a light groan to escape her throat. She brought her legs together, one knee over the other, and swayed her hips to and fro at first, her body moving out of instinct rather than planned thought. It held the pressure at bay, but it also made her feel like a little girl shamelessly dancing in front of her parents, not the grown, refined woman that she was supposed to be.

    It pained her so, but Brighid grit her teeth behind her closed mouth and forced herself back into a proper posture, albeit with her legs still close together. She wanted to prevail, but it would be a hollow victory if she had to sacrifice her dignity to do so.

    In all, it only took about a minute for the sounds of two personal waterfalls to dwindle away to a light dribble, and then to nothing at all. Granted, a minute of torture still felt longer than an hour of pleasure, but at least the worst of it had finally passed. She didn’t want to think about the massive puddle the ladies had no doubt left in the soil.

    “Hahh,” she heard Haze sigh, “I’d been looking forward to that for a while!”

    “M-Me too,” came Lora’s reply. “Er, did you happen to bring anything we can clean up with? I don’t see any leaves around here.”

    “Don’t worry, I can take care of that.”

    “I can always count on you, H-oh!”

    Brighid picked up on a faint gust of wind blowing from behind the rock, lasting for a few seconds. She couldn’t say for certain, but she had an idea of how Haze had applied her powers over the wind just now.

    “W-Well, I didn’t think your powers had so much utility, Haze,” said Lora once the gust died down. Clothes ruffled afterwards, suggesting they were getting dressed again.

    “It’s come in handy a few times,” said Haze. “Um, sorry if I startled you there, Lady Lora.”

    Brighid heard their voices moving, so she turned back around. “It’s okay. Just a little warning next time, okay?” asked Lora as she and Haze rounded the corner, Lora having a noticeable blush.

    “Sure thing.” Haze looked to Brighid, and they both came to a stop. “Oh, Brighid! Thanks for keeping watch for us.”

    “I hope we weren’t too noisy for you,” said Lora, putting her hands together just in front of her waist.

    “It was no trouble,” Brighid replied. A lie to be certain, but she just wanted to be away from this place as soon as possible.

    Haze lifted her hands up and nodded. “We can keep watch for you now, if you’d like.”

    More temptation, exactly the last thing she needed right now when her bladder was all but begging her to agree. Instead, she shook her head and said, “Thank you, but that will not be necessary.”

    “Are you sure?” asked Lora, “We’ve been working for quite a while.”

    “I assure you, I am fine,” Brighid forced herself to say. “We had best regroup with the others, anyway. It’s not safe to be split up for long out here.”

    Lora and Haze looked at each other for a moment. “She has a point there,” said Haze.

    “Then we’ll just be on our way, I suppose,” said Lora with a shrug.

    The discussion ended there as the ladies departed from the rock. Once more, Brighid hung behind the other two while they chatted about this and that. That way, she could hide the wincing from her bladder expressing its disappointment in passing up a chance to finally empty itself. She had hoped that resisting that temptation would embolden her confidence, but if anything, her groin muscles felt weaker than ever.

    With her urge to pee being the worst she could recall in quite some time, Brighid had to wonder if her foe was feeling the same way. If not, she feared her dignity would be at serious risk before much longer.

     


     

    Mythra had learned something today: it was possible for the muscles in her face to hurt from too much frowning and glaring. She rubbed her temples in an attempt to soothe the headache she was giving herself. This pain was nothing compared to what she felt in her groin, but she wasn’t about to put her hands there with a bunch of guys nearby.

    She looked back to where the other ladies had gone to for the umpteenth time. Finally, they were on their way back, which meant she could examine Brighid again. If she had given up and peed, then Mythra could finally run off and rain down a different golden power onto the earth in triumph.

    The closer Brighid got, however, the more obvious it became that this battle was not over. Her pursed lips, shorter steps, and deliberate walking behind the other girls gave away her powerful but still contained need. Mythra grit her teeth at the sight, both out of frustration and a way to fight her own urge. Mor Ardain’s hottest Blade was proving to be just as stubborn as she was. Not that Mythra had any doubts she would still prevail, but she wanted to be rid of all this urine inside her already, dammit.

    “We’re back!” announced Haze once the ladies had entered talking distance. Hearing this, the rest of the group dropped their own chatter and all gathered.

    “Took you long enough,” muttered Mythra. Her focus drifted to Brighid, and their eyes seemed to lock for a moment, though she might have imagined it.

    “So I guess it’s back to finding food with us?” asked Lora.

    “No, I think we’ve got enough for the resistance today,” said Addam. “More importantly, we need to take care of that next.”

    He turned towards the set of containers nearby, the same ones the tirkin had attempted to steal.

    “Seriously?” Mythra scoffed. “You want us to carry all that back to camp?”

    “Well, the militia can’t use it if it’s sitting all the way out here, can they?” replied Addam.

    “We have to return to camp with all the ingredients anyway,” said Jin, “There’s no reason we can’t do both at the same time.”

    I can think of a good reason, Mythra thought. Her groin muscles, already working hard to keep things sealed tight, trembled a bit at the thought of heavy lifting.

    “Then we better get moving,” said Addam. “They might be needing these supplies already.”

    They all walked over to the containers, each of them varying in size and weight. The next minute consisted of them figuring out how best to carry them back to the villa, with Addam delegating which person carried what cargo. Mythra found her bladder’s voice a bit louder than Addam’s, and thus tuned him out for the most part.

    “That just leaves the biggest one for us, right Mythra?”

    “Er, what?” She definitely heard that part.

    “Come on, it’s only fair we carry the heaviest load. Think of it as a workout!” he said with a cheeky smile.

    I’ll give you a real workout if you keep making my day worse, Mythra thought but was somehow wise enough to not say. Instead, she merely scoffed, gave a quick “whatever”, and stepped to one side of the container in question, a long metal crate only about a meter high but no doubt full of weapons, armor, and other heavy junk.

    As he squatted down, Mythra went to do the same. It was only when she got down there did she realize her bladder couldn’t tell the difference between a lifting squat and a peeing squat. Her face muscles tightened as much as her groin muscles did with both legs apart and nature only about a foot away from her bottom.

    “Alright, on three,” said Addam, “One-“

    “Three!” Mythra wasn’t waiting another second with her bladder preparing to empty itself. She stood straight up, with Addam having no choice but to follow with her. The container’s weight spread across her arms and back, nothing she couldn’t handle, but the strain also reached the muscles in her stomach and groin. Ugh, out of one annoyance and into the next.

    “Easy now! This isn’t a race, you know!” yelled Addam.

    “Can we save the scolding for after we’re done carrying this?” Mythra responded.

    Addam looked around at the rest of their crew, all with heavy loads in their arms. “Fair enough. Onwards!”

    What followed was the longest few minutes Mythra ever had the displeasure of suffering through. Having to carry such heavy cargo a long ways was annoying enough, even if she was a good deal stronger than the average Blade. But it was made all the worse by her dire need to pee. Due to the wide load, she had to keep her legs slightly apart, and holding with her hands was obviously out of the question. This coupled with the weight meant she was relying solely on her groin muscles to keep several hours of pent-up piss from spraying right through her bottoms. Her only saving grace was the hope that Brighid was suffering some of the same strain as her. She would practically kill to see the prim and proper lady drop her crate and squeeze her crotch like her life depended on it.

    Sadly, that didn’t happen. The only welcome sight Mythra found along the way was the set of tents set up outside the villa gate, signaling that they had returned to the camp.

    “Ugh, finally,” she made her relief known. “So just set this down wherever?”

    Addam looked about as he walked backwards between the tents. “Sounds like it. We’ll need to sort this stuff out and- whoa!”

    Mythra didn’t need to ask what happened, for she was part of the ride. Addam had bumped into another crate nearby with his foot, sending him stumbling backwards and Mythra forwards. The good news was Addam regained his footing just as quickly, but Mythra was not as fortunate. When Addam came to a hard stop, Mythra kept going as the container lurched forward, causing it to hit her stomach with a not-insignificant amount of force.

    The impact forced air out of her in the form of an “Oof!”, and the pain followed shortly after, but that didn’t get Mythra’s attention. No, it was the feeling of warmth and wetness, small but no less present, between her legs that worried her most. Her eyes went wide and mouth shot open for an instant, and she immediately clamped down, her entire body going tense to keep nature from running its course right where she stood. I won’t lose, not right here, not like this!

    “You okay, Mythra?” Addam called her attention away from her bladder. “Sorry about that. Just tripped over something there.”

    It was then Mythra realized how obvious it was that something was off with her. She needed to get out of there, and fast.

    “Here, the camp can deal with this garbage now!” she yelled, letting the container fall into the ground on her side. She walked off towards the manor, her hands balled into fists. With any luck, no one would be stupid enough to come after her.

    Rounding the corner to the villa gate and stepping behind a tent, Mythra looked around to make sure nobody could see her. The moment she felt alone, her hands shot to her groin and legs twisted together while she hopped from one foot to the other. Pride didn’t matter in the least to her as long as no one knew, so if this is what she needed to do to win, then so be it.

    “Mythra!”

    But she had to immediately stand up tall once she heard Addam calling her. She muttered a “dumbass” under her breath as she turned around to face him, finding his arms crossed and expression not a happy one. “What, you want me to help sort through everyone’s laundry or something now?” she asked.

    “May I ask what could have gotten into you today?”

    “You mean aside from today being a big pain in the butt?”

    “Come now, we’ve been through more tiring work than this, and you weren’t half as difficult.” He paused to sigh, his frown relaxing. “I am your Driver, you know. We don’t need to hide anything from each other.”

    As usual, he was right, which she didn’t want to admit to. “I don’t…” she looked away while she looked for something to say.

    “Don’t what?”

    Mythra shook her head. She didn’t have the patience to come up with an excuse anyway. “Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong? I really gotta-”

    “Mister Addam!”

    Mythra didn’t bother to finish as they both turned in the direction of the yell. A second later, Milton ran around the corner with Mikhail following behind, both of them sporting panicked looks.

    “Boys? What’s wrong?” asked Addam.

    “There’s an emergency at the tents outside! They need your help right now!”

    “An emergency? We’re there! You two stay back here and wait for us,” said Addam before turning to her. “Mythra, let’s go!”

    Seriously!? Is there ever a quiet moment on this giant rock? Mythra thought with a grimace. Even more trouble awaited her, and she had no choice but to face it.

    As the kids ran further into the camp, Addam and Mythra set off into danger. With one hand on her crotch and the other on her sword, Mythra could only hope that she could beat the emergency outside before the emergency inside finally won.

     


     

    I must endure. I must endure this!

    Brighid looped this thought through her head as she stood behind a tent, out of sight from her team. Her need for relief had overpowered her modesty at last, finally relenting with legs pressed together and hip-wiggling that no one of her status should ever reduce herself to. She didn’t know exactly how long she had left before her hold inevitably gave out, but it was getting closer by the second. The temptation to abandon this contest and make for the ladies’ room at once had never been stronger.

    Speaking of, where did Mythra run off to? She had stormed off towards the villa not long ago. Perhaps she had given up and was surrendering to nature’s call at long last. Unlikely, but Brighid needed something, anything, to hold onto if she wanted to stand a chance at victory. In any case, she at least had enough peace and quiet to focus solely on herself now, and was going to make the most of it.

    “Look out!”

    Until a shout and crashing sound caught her attention.

    At once, Brighid ran out from behind the tent to see the commotion, only to nearly open her eyes in shock. A large snake-like monster with bulging eyes towered over the other tents, shattering another crate with a lightning-fast strike before turning its gaze towards the team.

    “W-Where did that thing come from!?” yelled Haze.

    “Doesn’t matter. We need to stop it before it can hurt anyone,” said Jin, already pulling out his sword, never taking his eye off the beast.

    “Right! Boys, go find Addam and Mythra, then take cover inside!” Lora declared.

    “Don’t have to tell us twice!” said Milton as he and Mikhail turned and ran into the villa.

    Without taking his eyes off the monster, Jin nodded towards Brighid as she reached them. “Can you draw its focus so I can strike it from behind?” he said.

    “Of course!” Brighid grabbed her whip-swords and drew them without pause, a flair of blue flames flying off them. With legs still close together, she stepped up and looked the monster right in its eyes before swinging a streak of fire right at it, a roaring “fwoosh” of heat and light singing against the beast.

    The creature only reeled back for a moment, not particularly fazed by the attack, before lashing towards Brighid. She crossed her swords and braces herself, but the sheer brunt of the strike still forced her back a few feet. Gritting her teeth, Brighid lifted a sword as the monster reeled back once again, preparing to put all her might into it.

    Her underwear was wet.

    This realization alone was enough to make her gasp and slow her hand for a split second. The sword swung out into a whip, only to bounce off the snake’s thick hide and catch her off-guard.

    It was the worst possible time for her to lose focus, she discovered, for the Monster was already leaning back to strike again. With her guard wide open, all Brighid could do was brace herself for the hit.

    But as it shot forward, a ray of light blasted the beast from the side, knocking it back again. While it remained dazed, Brighid looked over to find Addam and Mythra running up from the gate, Mythra pressing one hand to her groin.

    “Everyone okay?” yelled Addam.

    “Nngh, y-yes,” Brighid said as she got back into a fighting stance. “But what of the others?”

    Just as she said this, Jin leapt up from behind the beast and brought his nodachi straight down onto its back. Unfortunately, it only bounced straight off its scales, and Jin fell onto his knees, quickly jumping away before the snake could counter.

    “It’s no good!” yelled Haze as she ran up to the others. “Our weapons can’t get through its skin!”

    “Sounds like it’s finally my turn,” said Mythra, faintly cracking a smile as her emerald core crystal began to glow. “You don’t mind a little overkill now, Addam?”

    Addam nodded. “Alright, but we need to lure it away from the camp first.”

    “I can handle that. It doesn’t seem to like me very much,” said Brighid.

    “Then you better hurry. I can’t hold this forever!” said Mythra, already gritting her teeth and pressing her legs together.

    Her bladder let off another pang out of sympathy, but Brighid had no time to pay it any mind now, not when innocent lives were in danger. She dashed off, quickly swinging another gust of flame towards the monster to directs its wrath. Her muscles burned as she ran as fast as possible, especially the ones in her groin, desperate to keep its contents from spilling out at such a crucial moment. She zigged and zagged, weaving around the beast’s attacks and throwing out more flame just to keep its attention long enough. With every strike, the monster got closer to her, and it wouldn’t be long before it closed the gap.

    Meanwhile, Mythra could feel sweat on her brow as the ether inside her continued to gather. Focusing for a laser strike from Siren normally didn’t put this much strain on her, but she had to work twice as hard to keep her bursting bladder in check.

    Suddenly, she gasped as another pang of pressure went through her. She no longer had the focus to keep it channeled, and thus released the ether, signaling the artifice far above to strike. A powerful beam shot down from the heavens, hitting the beast with deadly aim. The monster was vaporized in the concentrated blast, with Brighid just outside the ray, putting her blades up to brace herself from the shockwave of energy.

    The ray was gone as quickly as it arrived, leaving no trace that the monster ever existed. The battle was over, and all that remained was surveying the damage.

    As Brighid lowered her guard and put her swords away, she saw the team running up to her, Mythra included.

    “You okay, Brighid?” asked Lora as she arrived.

    Yes. It would take more than a quick jog and some win to get the best of me, ” she replied.

    Mythra walked up to her, her eyebrows raised. “Well, gotta hand it to you. You definitely have some guts to play bait for a giant monster and a siren strike.”

    “Yes, and I must admit, as destructive as your power can be, I am fortunate that it’s on our side,” said Brighid.

    They took a moment to look at each other. For the first time since meeting, Mythra and Brighid could feel a small bit of genuine respect for each other forming. Maybe, just maybe, they were not destined to be eternal rivals after all.

    “Gah!”

    “Aah!”

    Their faces contorted, hearts leapt, and entire bodies went rigid as a spurt shot into both ladies’ undergarments. Instantly, their hands shot to their groins and bodies doubled over, eyes shut with a visible strain.

    “M-Mythra!?” called out Addam.

    “Brighid!?” gasped Lora.

    Their friends surrounded them, bombarding them with questions and concerned words. However, neither Brighid nor Mythra could really comprehend them, let alone respond. Every last bit of their mental faculties went into trying to prevent the inevitable one last time.

    But it wasn’t working for either of them. They could feel their holds slipping away, each heralded by another dribble in their panties, and no amount of pleading could stop it. The only thing they could do was try and hold on for just an instant longer than the other.

    Another gasp escaped their lips, and everything went silent for a moment. Their bodies went incredibly stiff, then relaxed as both Mythra, the Aegis, and Brighid, Jewel of Mor Ardain, wet themselves.

    Even in their accidents, the two ladies held quite the variety. Brighid’s wetting began slowly, with the first visible drops of lightly-tinted urine running down her legs first before it fell through her hands as a series of scattered drips and weak trails. The bright blue glow of her fingers faded as they became further soaked, with her legs growing dim not long after.

    For all her beautiful elegance, Brighid could not do a thing to make her accident appear ladylike in any way. Her breathing came out in slow pants, occasionally broken with a choke. She hung her head low, hiding her shame and red face as much as she could. For the first time since setting foot on Torna, her eyelids parted, revealing a pair of deep blue pupils that burned the image of the growing puddle at her feet forever into her memories. Never had she felt so disgraceful in her entire life.

    But Brighid may as well have been a pinnacle of grace when compared to Mythra. While she was also embarrassed beyond belief, the sheer release of all that pee had overridden any sense of modesty she could have had. Mythra practically pushed out urine as golden as her hair, gushing through her fingertips and making all sorts of hissing and piddling noises as it went everywhere down her bare legs. All the while, she kept her eyes shut and mouth open as a long, shameless moan left her throat.

    Eventually, Mythra found her strength leaving her legs as well, and lowered herself into a squat. Her soaked gloves left her groin, exposing her stained, saturated panties to all of Alrest. With nothing blocking it, her pee shot through her undies in a chaotic stream, quickly breaking up as it fell onto the already-large puddle in the dirt.

    Even the Aegis knew that peeing herself in front of her friends was something to be deeply ashamed of. Yet in that moment, she couldn’t muster up the willpower to care. It felt like every annoyance, every pain she had put up with that whole day was disappearing, leaving her in a void of physical and mental bliss.

    Until the initial wave of relief wore off, at least. Then the weight of her embarrassing display hit her all at once. She opened her eyes and mouth in a look of pure horror, who all shared dumbfounded looks. The only one who didn’t was Jin, who glanced to the side and looked rather annoyed by the whole thing.

    “G-guh, I, buh…” Mythra stammered, her eyes darting about. “S-Stop watching!” She finally managed to say, closing her legs while she continued to spray the ground.

    “Oh! S-Sorry!” Lora turned around at once.

    “W-We didn’t mean to look like that, h-honest!” said Haze from behind her hands covering her entire face. “Um, a-are you two not feeling well?”

    “N-Not feeling well? I’m pissing myself in public, what do you think!?”

    “Mythra!” said Addam in a stern tone. “I know you’re upset, but we only want to help. Now, can you please tell us if you’re ill in some way?”

    “Er, well, I…” Mythra lowered her head, seeing her massive puddle for herself. By the time her bladder was fully emptied, her shoes were surrounded by urine on all sides, a true testament to the holding capacity of an Aegis. Had she not soaked her panties and legs just now, she would have been impressed with herself.

    “We are not ill.” The team all turned to Brighid as she slowly stood upright again, her own stream having faded to a few drops. The puddle around her feet was not as big as Mythra’s, but still more than what the average person was capable of. The trails that ran down her legs were already evaporating from her fiery heat, but it also had the unfortunate effect of amplifying the smell of urea around her.

    “This... was simply the result of some very poor judgment,” Brighid continued, her red cheeks burning hot and sharply contrasting with her blue hair.

    “Er, that’s putting it mildly…” Haze rubbed the back of her head.

    “But I still don’t understand,” said Lora, “Why didn’t you, um, do that when you were with us earlier?”

    “And I must ask you the same question, Mythra,” said Addam. “Really didn’t think I’d have to have a conversation like this twice in one day,” he muttered to himself.

    “Uugh, can I get cleaned up first before I explain?” said Mythra as she stood up. “You have no idea how gross this feels right now, and I’m not even wearing leggings or anything.”

    “I… must agree with her,” said Brighid. “I promise I will explain myself afterwards. I owe all of you that much and my sincerest apologies, at the very least.”

    “Er, I suppose that would be for the best,” said Addam, a little bit of pink appearing on his face. “Jin and I will just leave you to it for now.”

    “Here, we can help you out with that,” said Lora. She and Haze walked up to Brighid and Mythra’s side and took hold of their arms.

    “Right, and don’t think we’ll take ‘no’ for an answer!” Haze said with a smile at Mythra’s face.

    “You are way too happy for this,” Mythra commented.

    Brighid did not get a chance to respond, for they were soon tugged along to somewhere private and with a bath, she hoped. At least then, she could remove every physical trace of the disgusting, demeaning waste on her. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about the shame. It would follow her until the day she or Emperor Hugo drew their last breath. She normally loathed the idea of losing all her memories upon bonding with a new Driver. However, she would gladly welcome that if it meant never having to relive this experience again.

     


     

    “The entry ends here.”

    Brighid closed the book with a soft snap, setting it down on the table next to her. Its blue cover, illuminated by a nearby candle, simply read the name “Brighid” and a date from long ago.

    “To be honest, I always found this one rather curious,” she continued from her chair. “It’s a wonder that I - or rather, my past self - saw fit to record even that incident.”

    “Perhaps you were even more diligent five hundred years ago than you are now,” responded Mòrag from across the room.

    “More diligent, maybe, but certainly not as wise.” Brighid raised a hand to her chin. “I will never understand what would cause me to act so abrasive towards another lady, let alone engage in such a crass competition.”

    “In fairness, it sounds as though Mythra lacked the self-restraint that she exercises today,” said Mòrag. “I imagine your skin was not the only one she managed to get underneath.”

    Brighid looked up and over towards Mòrag, or at least to the privacy screen that hid her from view. Not even the Special Inquisitor could hide the deflation in her voice that one gets when their confidence has taken a hit.

    Standing up, Brighid walked over to the screen, her heels clacking along the stone floor. “In any case, I had other reasons for reading you this particular entry,” she said as she reached the corner and turned to the side.

    “I assume it was meant for my benefit, somehow?”

    Though she couldn’t be seen, Brighid nodded. “I thought it would ease your misery a bit to know that you are not the only proud citizen of Mor Ardain to suffer such a blunder.”

    Silence met Brighid at first, and she wondered if she would have to better explain herself. She then heard light stepping around the screen, and Mòrag entered her view, clad only in a dark undershirt with matching boyshorts.

    It took a moment for their eyes to meet, with Mòrag’s lacking some of the strength she normally displayed. “You know I appreciate what you have done for me tonight,” Mòrag started. She glanced over to her uniform draped over another chair. The wet patch could not be seen on her dark trousers in dim lights, but they both knew it was there.

    “But I’m afraid only time can help soothe me,” she continued, ending with a sigh.

    “Hmm, perhaps that was the case with me as well.” Brighid looked to the stained uniform, then back to Mòrag. “But please allow me to remind you of one more thing.”

    “And that is?”

    Brighid lifted a hand and rested it on Mòrag‘s arm, careful to keep the heat of her flames low. Her eyelids parted, and a set of blue pupils pierced into Mòrag‘s eyes. “No matter what, you will always have all of Mor Ardain to support you, and you may always rely on me in your moments of doubt and weakness,” Brighid said with a smile as warm as the flames coming off her.

    Right before Mòrag’s eyes drifted away again, Brighid thought she saw a bit of gratitude in them, along with the strength and pride that she was normally filled with. “Brighid, I…”

    “We should finish getting you dressed.” Brighid withdrew her hand and closed her eyes. “We have quite a bit of work ahead of us tonight.”

    Mòrag opened her mouth for a moment, only to close it in a small nod. “Yes, that stampede has left quite a mess for us. We may not see any rest until daybreak. I trust you are prepared as always?” she spoke in her professional tone.

    That bit of pride returning to Mòrag’s voice was exactly what Brighid wanted to hear. It would take much more than a simple piddling incident to bury the proud Special Inquisitor hiding within. She was certain Mòrag would fully return to her old self before she knew it.

    “Hey, Margie!”

    The door to their quarters opened with a slam, and the clacking of talons came in. Without hesitation, Brighid moved in front of Mòrag to help preserve her modesty as they both looked to whoever so rudely barged in. They only calmed down a little once they saw the feathers and dull eyes of a certain bird Blade.

    “Finch?” asked Mòrag.

    “What is the meaning of this?” asked a stern Brighid.

    “Oh, girls! You gotta hear this! It’s really important!” Finch replied, hopping up and down.

    “Calm yourself, Finch. What do we need to hear?” said Mòrag.

    Finch stopped hopping, though there was still a little quiver to her movement. “I heard there was this big stampede through the city! Lots of monsters running around tearing up the place and all that! We should do something about it!”

    Mòrag and Brighid glanced at each other for a moment. “Yes, we are more than aware of the stampede,” said Mòrag, “And need I remind you again that my name is Mòrag?”

    “W-Wait, you knew already?” Finch blinked a few times. “Whoops, sorry about that! I only found out about it when I came back from, uh, wherever I was.”

    “Yes, your assistance would have been most appreciated then,” said Brighid.

    While Brighid’s brows furrowed, Mòrag simply arched hers. “May I ask why you continue to fidget?”

    “Huh?” Finch looked down at her body as she kept shifting weight between her feet. “Oh, right! I was also coming up here because there was something else I really needed to do. It was, um… er…”

    Finch slowed her dancing to a stop, then lifted up her head and adopted a faraway look in her eyes. Her hands pointed at her head as she rolled it back and forth, lost in her own mind as she sought to remember that important thing. No matter how hard she tried, the answer just would not come to her.

    However, Mòrag and Brighid soon discovered the answer themselves.

    Between the feathers at Finch’s groin, a spurt of yellow dribbled onto the ground. It quickly picked up to a light jet, creating a piddling noise against the floor as a puddle grew between her talons. All the while, Finch remained in the same pose, though whether she was oblivious or ignorant of proper potty training could not be determined.

    But whatever the reason, there she was, openly peeing on the floor like it was nothing. Both ladies, not sharing the same free spirit, balked at the sight, with Brighid putting a hand up to her mouth. Never had she seen such a vulgar action performed so brazenly, at least not in her current incarnation.

    Mòrag shared the same sentiment; Finch was mere moments from receiving a stern talking-to, the only decision to make whether they began before or after she was finished relieving herself. Still, she supposed there was a silver lining to this. To actually see someone embarrassing herself in such a manner, especially a Blade serving a high-ranking official… She had to admit, it made her own incident seem just a little less severe. How did that saying go? Misery loves company, right?

    Now that she thought of it, perhaps “Birds of a feather” fit better here. No one else in this room could exactly judge her for her accident now. Maybe this was the real reason the Brighid of the past recorded such an embarrassing moment. In some strange way, she felt closer to her comrades now. No matter where her adventures took her, Mòrag was certain of one thing: there was nowhere else she felt that she belonged more so than with this odd crew by her side.

     

     

     

     

    (A/N: And yes, I already wrote that Mòrag story. You can read it here.)

  17. How would it make you feel if OmoOrg one day tried to trademark the term "Omorashi"?

    What if we made it clear we owned the word and legally banned the community from making use of the term?

    You'd probably be pretty mad, right? Justifiably so.

     

    Unfortunately, that is exactly what a Canadian company called Rearz, Inc. is trying to do with the term Omutsu.

    Omutsu, as you may already know, is essentially just Japanese for "diaper." It is a term we use widely in OmoOrg's AB/DL community, as it goes hand-in-hand with Omorashi.

     

    It's important to note that this is not the first time Rearz, Inc. has done this, either.

    Last year, the company notoriously attempted to trademark the term ABDL, leading to widespread company backlash that eventually forced them to abandon their pursuits.
    https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20180108/07500338956/community-backlash-leads-adult-diaper-company-to-drop-trademark-application-abdl.shtml

     

    Now they are at it again, this time over the terms Omutsu and Onesie,

     

    You can find the patent application for Omutsu here:
    http://www.ic.gc.ca/app/opic-cipo/trdmrks/srch/viewTrademark?id=1922466&lang=eng&tab=reg

     

    Despite widespread outlash, Rearz Inc. has opted to completely ignore the communities outcry; going as far as to block people who demand an explanation for the trademark applications on Twitter.

    I have personally reached out to Rearz Inc. several times in a request for a comment or some explanation, and warned that if they did not at least respond to the community on this issue, I would publish an official article on OmoOrg calling them out for it. Over 1 month later, we're still waiting.

     

    If you agree with me that a company trying to trademark general words such as "Omutsu" and "ABDL" is shady and should not be tolerated, help make your voice heard.

    Call them out for trademark trolling on their Twitter and elsewhere. We can either make sure as many people as possible realize what they are doing, or ideally force them to abandon their trademark applications again.
    https://twitter.com/RearzInc

     

    Regardless of what happens, I want to be clear that even if their trademark for Omutsu is granted in Canada, OmoOrg has no intentions of recognizing it.

    Outside of Canada, it is not legally valid to have a trademark of generic foreign words, and as such, their trademark application is not valid or enforceable outside of the country.

    Regardless, these kinds of things should not be tolerated based on principle alone. What they are doing is shady and harmful to the community as a whole, which is why I strongly suggest everyone boycott this company and continue calling them out for what they do until they eventually do the right thing and abandon their shady trademark pursuits.

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    Recent Entries

    I am experimenting with writing in the present tense & in first person, so if it sounds off let me know & I'll get it fixed. Thank you.

     

    -----------------------------------------------------------------

    From Liberty's POV

    The other day my old friend Georgia had invited me to go to the movies with her. I completely forgot that it was happening until she called me up while 
    I was editing a livestream down today telling me she was picking me up in an hour. I take a shower, brush my hair, throw on some gray shorts and that leaves me with
    about half an hour left to go. I was thinking I might use the bathroom but I don't really gotta go so there really isn't any need, and if I need to the theatre we're 
    going to is only about an hour away. There's no way I wouldn't be able to hold it until then. So for the rest of the time waiting I just
    plan to chill out on my sofa in my apartment, sipping on some cola, scrolling through media, waiting for Georgia to show up.

    After some time waiting I hear a car honking in the parking lot & hear a shout coming from the parking lot.

    "GET IN LIBERTY, WE'RE GONNA GO SEE SOME AWESOME SHIT!"

    I laugh, & grab my phone charger, & shove it in my small bag that I'm bringing with some snacks. I feel a little bit of pressure on my bladder but it doesn't seem 
    too urgent. Besides, I don't have enough time to do anything about it right now anyway. We gots to go.

    Right after I get in Georgia's car and she leaves the building's parking lot she starts up with,

    "Hey, so I'm sorry about what happened to you last week. I was watching when you wet yourself live & felt so embarrassed for you."

    I was kind a little hurt, won't lie.

    "Wow thanks. You're really making me feel great about myself." I reply, very sarcastically.

    "Really?" She's asking seemingly proud of herself.

    "No. Of course not. I do not want to think about that."

    "Alright, sorry. Here, I know what'll make you feel better."

    To me, that sounded way too confident. But she ended up pulling on into the Wendy's drive-thru and we got 2 chickens patty's & one large soda each. I was really happy
    that she did. This is however one of my favourite restaurants. The large soda is a bit concerning but nah, it won't be a worry. Last week was just a one-time event.
    After a little while I finish my food & check the time, turns out we still have half an hour to go. I'm really starting to regret drinking so much. Should I tell her
    that I gotta go? Nah, that would only slow us down. There's no point. Just a little longer.

    While waiting I reflect on the times I wet myself before the live stream incident last week. The biggest of which was in class. Our teacher was giving us a test and
    I was asked to wait until it was over. Turns out that task was a bit much for a young Liberty, before I knew it my pants were being flooded in the front row. The
    classroom was as quiet as a mouse too so everybody heard the splashing of my urine on the floor. It was so hard to come back to school the next day with all of the embarrassment.

    We are finally arriving to the theatre, and it's getting pretty bad by this point. I feel like I can finally relax knowing that I'm definitely gonna make it. We enter & grab the tickets for our movie.

    "Hey Georgia, I'm gonna go off to the bathroom real quick."

    "Alright, don't fall in." She joked

    I quickly run off to find that the bathroom was closed. The sign on the door said,

    "Closed for maintenance, will reopen shortly."
     
    "Oh god" I thought, "not again." I grabbed my crotch, leaking in my shorts a little bit. After a deep sigh, I made my way back to Georgia and told her that the
    bathroom was closed. 

    "You gonna be okay?" She asked concerningly.  

    "Yeah, I think I'm gonna be alright." I reply nervously.

    We get into the theatre and the movie starts. At this point, the pressure becomes too immense. I cross my legs hoping for the best. I leak a little more into my shorts.
    Georgia sees that I'm struggling to hold on but doesn't do or say anything. A lot comes out this time. It's clear that my shorts are stained. There would be no hiding
    it even if I did make it to the bathroom. I take a deep breath and give in. I can hear the sound of my urine rushing out of my body, through my cloth shorts & onto
    the soft theatre seat.

    psssssssshhhhhhhhh...

    A few seconds of relief hit me. I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and relax. My hands are still cupped over my crotch. It's finally over I thought to myself. 
    This felt horrible. I couldn't help but cry. It felt like an eternity I was sitting there in my puddle. I move my hands to find them soaked. Everything was soaked.
    I don't know what to do, I haven't pissed myself in public in nearly 15 years.

    "Holy crap. Let's get you on out of here." Georgia was obviously worried & more than willing to help. Thank god, because there's no way I knew what to do.

    We got up out of our seats and she gave me her sweater to tie around my waist. Once we got in the car and got me back to the apartment she said that I could keep her
    sweater for now. So I did, and went back up to my apartment. I cleaned up and showered. I sat in regret once I was finally dry. I think the diapers are going to be necessary...

  18.                 Under any other circumstances, being summoned to stand before the Great Lord of Sunlight would have been the highest possible honor. Of course, in light of the Eldest’s treason, those that served him were now potential traitors as well, and as one of the disgraced war god’s knights happened to also be the captain of the Four Knights, all four were to be in attendance. Ciaran could understand – after all, if the leader of the Four was a traitor, the Lord had good reason to believe that the other three would follow along. Quite frankly, Ciaran was surprised that she wasn’t the main suspect, or indeed the target of any suspicion at all, considering her status as the foremost among the Lord’s assassins and spies. Then again, perhaps that was exactly why she wasn’t seriously considered a threat; regardless, she couldn’t envy the Dragonslayer his present condition.

                    “I swear I knew nothing, my Lord,” Ornstein said, kneeling. His helm and spear lay in front of him at the Lord’s feet. “His betrayal was as shocking to me as it was to you.”

                    Being in the Great Lord’s terrifying presence was one thing; seeing the golden lion-knight, one of the most faithful and honorable knights of the Sun, brought to his knees to beg for mercy was almost nightmarish.

                    “Thou wouldst have me believe that?” The Lord looked down on His knight from His throne, His expression unreadable and body almost motionless. “Thou wert his most faithful servant, and still he told thee nothing?”

                    “Yes, my Lord. My loyalty to him only extended so far as to best serve you, and I suspect he knew that.” The Dragonslayer was unusually hesitant. Perhaps the others would see it as his nerves getting the better of him, as one would expect given the circumstances. No doubt all three of them were unsettled by this, Ciaran especially. She hoped that either her deductions were wrong or that the Lord would assume that any strange behavior by His Knights could be attributed to the stress of the situation. If Ciaran’s skills were still reliable – and right now she very much wished for them not to be – Ornstein was right to be afraid, though perhaps he’d never have acted on his desires. Still, some deep part of him was yet loyal to the exiled king, and Ornstein was very seriously considering listening to it. Of course this would be an uncomfortable situation. She really didn’t want to be around to see what would happen when the Lord saw the truth.

                    There was another reason for Ciaran’s present anxiety, though, for she had been en route to deal with more personal matters when she’d received her summons, but that was a drop in the ocean compared to what potentially awaited the Four. Even so, if they were going to be executed as traitors, Ciaran hoped she’d at least be allowed to deal with that before being put to the hammer, to retain at least some dignity.

                    The Lord sat still for a while, and the room was silent save for Gough’s breathing. Then the Lord rose and said, “Very well. I shall reaffirm thy station among my Knights. In return, thou shalt prove thy loyalty again.” He raised His left arm and snapped His fingers, and within seconds a silver knight was at His side, presenting His greatsword. The Lord pulled the sword from its housing, and taking it in two hands He touched the flat of the blade to each of Ornstein’s shoulders before returning the sword to the knight that had presented it. “Thine orders come now from the Princess. Thy station is to be shared with… the cannibal…” There was a hint of disgust to His voice for a moment. “And together thou shalt serve and protect the Princess and the Cathedral. Thou shalt not leave Anor Londo without my order to do so. Go now.”

                    “At once, thank you my Lord.” Ornstein stood, collecting his helmet and spear, and backed away from the Lord while bent into a deep bow. When he came to be in line with the other Knights, he put his helm back over his head, straightened out, and turned to leave.

                    The first to speak when he had gone was Artorias.

                    “The cannibal, my Lord?”

                    “If Smough cannot break him then truly his loyalty lies with me.” The Lord turned to Ciaran while Artorias bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Ciaran. Thou art to follow him, ensure that he does as ordered. Do not be seen. Gough and Artorias, I shall summon thee again if I have need of thee. Go now, Ciaran.”

                    “Of course, my Lord.” Ciaran bowed deeply while the other two gave a salute and rushed off. By the time she’d turned to leave, Artorias was already at the steps leading down into the Cathedral’s main room, and she hurried to catch up with him. “So,” she said, popping up from behind him. “Where are you off to?”

                    Artorias turned his head ever so slightly to look at Ciaran, presumably giving a bit of a sideways glance and a suspicious glare – hard to tell under his helmet. “I was headed to the blacksmith, but don’t you have work to do?”

                    “Oh, well, I was actually going to go that way, so we can walk over there together.” Ciaran had developed a bit of a spring-step while speaking.

                    “It’s… just down the hall…” They passed a set of Sentinels, and Artorias returned the salute they gave.

                    And, indeed, the two were nearly at the first set of stairs that would lead to the Giant Blacksmith’s workshop, but Ciaran didn’t seem the least bit discouraged. “Yeah, I know, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a bit of company for a little bit?”

                    “I guess…”

                    Ciaran glanced at Artorias, her expression hidden behind her porcelain mask. “What are you having the blacksmith do anyways,” she chirped. “All your stuff is in good condition.”

                    Artorias put a hand on the sword at his hip and returned a salute from a passing silver knight. “Yes, it is, but I’m going to have him make me a shield. A proper magical one that can still protect someone even if they’re not actually carrying it.”

                    “Sounds pretty complicated.” Ciaran had started fiddling with the hair on the side of her mask. Not quite the same as if it were her real hair, but it would do.

                    “It has to be. It’s not just myself I need it to protect. But I trust the giant’s skills. He’s even earned our Lord’s trust, so I have no doubt he’s capable.” The rhythmic clanking of the Giant Blacksmith’s wooden hammer against his anvil could now be heard, and it grew louder as Artorias spoke and the two descended towards the workshop. “Should you really be going this way? Probably would have been better to just follow him out the front door.”

                    “What do you mean?” The two looked at each other for a moment, and Ciaran suddenly realized what it was she was supposed to be doing. It was a good thing her mask hid her flushed face. “Oh! Oh, right, no, this is fine. He’s… he’s not going to sneak away anywhere just yet, I’m sure. I’ve, uh, got to keep a good distance anyways.”

                    “Riiiiiight…” As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Artorias gave a little wave to the blacksmith while he spoke. “Well, here we are. Good hunting.” He made a gesture that was almost a hybrid between a salute and a wave, then turned to the blacksmith who greeted him the same way he greeted everyone else.

                    “Forge, I can. Strong, I am.”

                    “Oh, don’t I know it. Listen…”

                    Ciaran cut him off when she suddenly turned around at the door and called out to him, carefully walking backwards to get properly outside. “Oh, I’ll probably need to check on the painting too, so I guess I’ll see you later.” She gave a wave before she disappeared.

                    “Uh, sure, I guess.” Artorias shrugged, at this point no longer talking to anyone at all.

                    Ciaran sighed as she walked the streets of Anor Londo. It hadn’t taken very long to find Ornstein, so it was just a matter of watching him and staying out of sight. She was looking for any opportunities to get on top of a building, so she could see and hide better. Not the easiest of tasks considering her divided attention.

                    First, there was her job. She would be in quite a lot of possibly-explosive lightning-based trouble if Ornstein really did try to pull something and she wasn’t there to see it and report back to Lord Gwyn. Maybe even worse if she was there but wasn’t paying enough attention.

                    Then there was Artorias. Ciaran wasn’t stupid. She could tell Artorias wasn’t responding to any of her advances. He barely even seemed to know she existed. And yet, she couldn’t help but think that some day she’d win him over, that one day he’d be hers alone. She knew perfectly well the odds of that happening were just as good as the chance that the Dark he hunted would take him first, and yet here she was chasing after him like a child. It’d never work, so why was she trying so hard?

                    As if that weren’t enough, that personal matter of hers from earlier had returned in force once she’d calmed down from the audience with the Lord and almost having been briefly alone with Artorias. Keeping in constant motion was helpful, but considering Ciaran had already been preparing to deal with this issue hours ago, there wasn’t much time left until she didn’t have a say in the matter anymore.

                    For now, though, she was still in control. Very fortunate, as she still had a job to do and Ornstein was passing by the stables, which Ciaran would have to go through to stay out of sight. Fortunately, they were mostly empty. Except for…

                    Bark. Bark.

                    The little grey wolf pup Artorias had brought back from the forests around Oolacile; the inspiration for his Wolf Ring. Her name was Sif, she was Artorias’s best friend, and as far as Ciaran was concerned she was absolutely adorable – or would be at literally any other time. As it was right now, Ciaran had to maneuver herself over a wall to hide from Ornstein, who almost certainly would have come to investigate the barking. Usually such a maneuver wouldn’t have been a problem, but her present condition made her a good deal slower.

                    Sif was kept in a separate enclosure, large enough for her to grow into a proper great-wolf, so there was no doubt Ornstein knew exactly where the sound was coming from. Indeed, just as soon as Ciaran had gotten herself out of sight she could hear the clattering of the golden armor approaching, then stopping, presumably at Sif’s enclosure to see if the wolf had noticed anything out of place.

                    Ciaran of course knew that she was the one to set Sif off in the first place, but Ornstein was left to try to find some reason the wolf would have been startled. So he looked, or at least Ciaran could assume that was what he was doing – she could only hear his armor rattle as he moved, never going far.

                    Perhaps some other time Ciaran would have been more than patient with something like this, but right now she was praying for Ornstein to move on so they could both be done. The pressure was growing while Ciaran was just sitting there doing nothing, and if she couldn’t at the very least move along soon… something would happen that she preferred not to think about.

                    Finally, after what must have been hours – but of course was hardly even five minutes – the Dragonslayer addressed the wolf.

                    “Are you looking for your master? He’s not here now, but I’m sure he’ll come visit you soon.”

                    Sif just barked at him in response, and he must have considered that to be acceptable, for the sounds of his armor soon faded away. Ciaran pulled herself up to look over the wall, with far more effort than it should have taken, then worked her way over and dropped onto the ground on the other side, receiving another greeting from Sif as she landed. That little bit of sudden warmth she was feeling had absolutely nothing to do with any of that and would go away if she just ignored it.

                    Not that she had time to deal with that even if it had been something – truly, ignoring it was the only option. She had to hurry to make sure Ornstein wouldn’t get out of sight. He was approaching a path down to the lower city, and now there was finally going to be an opportunity to get above him, if only Ciaran could climb up one of the many buildings that made up the residential center of the holy city. All the better that the Executioner worked in the slums, where the spaces between buildings were just barely large enough for a silver knight to slip through. If this were one of the more upscale places out towards Duke Seath’s library, sure the houses would be larger, but they’d be so far apart that Ciaran would have to climb down and back up every time she got to the edge.

                    Right now, just getting onto a roof once would be a problem. Ciaran was hanging back out of sight and, save for the occasional civilian, the streets were empty, so she had some time mostly alone to prepare herself for the task of scaling the side of a house. Mentally more than physically – things were under control for now and would remain so, if only Ciaran could focus on guaranteeing it. She had to act quickly, though, as narrow roads and sharp turns into innumerable alleys and side streets meant she could lose track of Ornstein in an instant. So, with a deep breath, Ciaran slipped into the nearest alleyway and got to work climbing up the house wall in front of her, grabbing at windows and using the Tracers to get a grip in places where the masonry was cracked. It was a good deal slower than normal, as Ciaran was trying to maintain the delicate balance she’d established in her lower half, and if anything were to happen to disturb that balance… she didn’t really want to think of what that meant.

                    Fortunately, Ciaran was able to maintain focus and control long enough to get up onto the roof, and even more fortunately, she could see both Ornstein and the executioner’s block from there – she’d still have to jump across to another couple of houses on the way, but so long as Ornstein planned to do as he was told, there wouldn’t be any issues. He’d slowed down considerably, though, and stopped just before he rounded the last corner. He stood there, looking around at whatever there was to see, adjusting bits of his armor and inspecting his spear. Ciaran loomed overhead, just out of sight, both hoping the Dragonslayer would move on, so she could get back to personal business, and wishing he wouldn’t, so she didn’t have to get so close to the Executioner.

                    After idling long enough to seem suspicious, though, Ornstein did head down the proper road, and Ciaran followed above and slightly ahead of him, hopping over gaps between houses to end up directly above Smough. There was a prisoner already on the block, so her focus was on Ornstein while he approached, putting up a hand to block his view and turning his head to the side as a massive cracking noise and guttural laugh rang out in the alley. Only Smough was left standing when Ciaran and Ornstein both looked again. Neither of them dared look directly at what had happened to the prisoner, though the Executioner’s reputation and the size of that hammer were more than enough to guess.

                    The lion-knight cautiously stepped forward and opened the maw of his helm that served as a visor, and Ciaran dropped into a low crouch to hear what he was to say. There was a protest from somewhere deep within her body, but she willed herself to ignore it, just for a little while.

                    “New orders for you,” he said, “From, eh, from Lord Gwyn.”

                    “What? Why would He do that?” Smough’s voice was muffled and distorted by his grotesque helmet.

                    “You’re, uh… you’re, you’re more than welcome to… to ask Him yourself when you see Him.” Ornstein tugged on the plume at the back of his helmet and looked off somewhere just beyond Smough – in Ciaran’s general direction, though she was sure she was hidden. “But… best not to bother Him with questions like that.”

                    “Right.” Smough let his hammer down at his left side, grabbing the handle to keep it upright. “Well, what is it?”

                     “I was sent to tell you,” Ornstein leaned his spear towards Smough as if to point at him. “That, uh, you, and me too actually, we’re to speak to Princess Gwynevere. We’re in Her service now.”

                    Ciaran shifted around as her body continued to disagree with her choice of position – and she tried her best to stay silent as she felt a most unwelcome warmth in her smallclothes.

                    “Uh, alright. Hey, if I’m working with you now does that mean there are Five Knights?”

                    Ornstein closed his visor again and briefly looked up at Ciaran’s roof, this time quite explicitly. Surely he couldn’t have heard her fighting against her own body. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s never going to happen. I mean, you eat people’s bones. I don’t think that’s the kind of person the Lord wants representing Him. Lord Nito, maybe, or even Lady Izalith if She’s in the right mood, but not Lord Gwyn.”

                    “Fair enough, yeah.”

                    The two trailed off into some sort of conversation, though Ciaran had stopped paying attention. Still in her squatting position that her body hated her for, she had both hands vigorously rubbing her thighs, drifting ever closer to grabbing at herself without ever quite getting there. The inside of her mask was utterly saturated with her sweat and the warmth below grew in little intermittent bursts until she was practically sitting in a puddle within her own clothes. She was out of options and out of time. She’d done as she’d been commanded, and it seemed like Ornstein and Smough were just going to sit around making friends with each other. She’d earned a minute to herself.

                    Thus, Ciaran backed away from the edge of the building, stood up and immediately ran back to the house she’d climbed up in the first place, the force from jumping the gaps between buildings causing a little more liquid to join the party. Once she was fairly sure she’d reached the right house, or at least was far enough away, she fumbled with getting the Gold Tracer off her belt, nearly dropping it, and dug it into the wall as she jumped off. Thanks to whatever magic the Giant could work into weapons, that knife was far stronger than it had any right to be, so Ciaran could simply slide down the wall of the house and drop into a quiet alley. And thanks to her small stature compared to the other Knights, she didn’t have to worry too much about being seen, though she was right next to the open road.

                    Not that any of that was important. Ciaran could think of nothing else as she tore down her pants, a light but steady stream already working its way to the ground, which became a full-force torrent as soon as Ciaran had lowered herself into the usual position. The pale golden stones below her immediately became drenched in a fresh coating of a much deeper gold, and even the opposite wall of the alley was close enough to receive a generous spray.

                    Alas, it didn’t last long. Before Ciaran was even halfway done, she could hear heavy footsteps coming from behind her, out on the road. If they were loud enough to be heard over her own cascade, that meant only one thing. With every grain of strength left in her body, Ciaran forced herself to stop, hastily redressed, and crossed her arms as she willed a disguise spell upon herself. Not a moment later did Ornstein pass by, Smough at his side. They were engaged in some sort of conversation that Ciaran truly did not care one bit about, until Ornstein, who was the nearer of the two to Ciaran’s alley, stopped abruptly and looked down. He lifted his right foot, and a little bit of the Blade’s waters dripped from the heel of his boot.

                    “Eugh.” Ornstein shook his foot and took several steps to his left to avoid the still-expanding puddle that had spilled out onto the street, then the two carried on walking. “How do you live down here with these creatures and their filth?”

                    Smough’s response was something about plenty of opportunities for him, but Ciaran only listened for when their footsteps had faded away enough for her to be considered out of earshot. As soon as she was sure, she dispelled her disguise and instantly fell forward, lying on her hands and knees in a pool of her own making. There was hardly even time to breathe before the flood she had so rudely interrupted started again, this time filtering through Ciaran’s clothes before hitting the ground with even more force than earlier.

                    With no real options available, Ciaran moaned as she let herself fall even lower, head kept off the ground only by the fact that her forearms were in the way. Her chest and arms were soaked almost immediately, to the point where she could feel her waters on her skin. And yet she didn’t really care. She was bent over as if she were a dog in heat presenting herself, and was panting like one too, and still she didn’t care. Only the relief mattered, so Ciaran stayed as she was, reveling in the feeling of being able to remove what must have been more than twelve hours of fluids from her system. Ciaran couldn’t properly gauge how much time passed until the torrent ended, but even when it did she remained in her position for a while, letting whatever was left drip down from her garb and join the ocean she’d made.

                    Once she heard the last drops land, she pushed herself up and fell back against the wall. Ciaran lifted up her mask and for a few moments gasped for breath before calming down again and sliding even farther into the pool below. It took a while to process what had just happened, and when she did finally figure it out she pulled her mask down again to hide her deep blush. Then she looked around and sighed. She was an absolute mess. Soaked through to the skin practically everywhere except her back and head, she had no idea whatsoever how she was meant to clean up. Perhaps she could just borrow a painting guardian uniform. They wouldn’t dare pry into their leader’s personal business, if she could get over there without being seen by anyone else, like a silver knight, or Artorias, or worst of all Lord Gwyn. What nightmare awaited her if her Lord found out one of his prized Four Knights lacked the constitution to perform a simple task without soiling herself like a pathetic Undead?

                    Oh well. She’d deal with that if it came to it. At least she’d made sure nobody could say the streets in Anor Londo were not paved with gold.