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Hello, everyone, I have a new story. This one's gonna be a bit different from my usual ones, and is much slower paced than the others. This first chapter contains desperation and fear wetting, but lat

I actually finished this story. I actually did it. Motivation to write this whole story came and went constantly, but I honestly do believe it's my best work. It's most certainly my longest. I re

I meant to have this posted some time ago, but some drama at work got someone fired, and I had to pick up all their hours, so I've had almost no time to write. Finally, though, I got it done, and here

2 hours ago, Night Rain said:

A 'trap' is someone who looks kinda feminine and wears womens clothes.

While i am not into male messing adding in 'trap'  sounds interesting

So yeah I just wanted to confirm Zabrak was saying what I thought they were saying because that is an extremely offensive slur.

Edited by YourFNF (see edit history)
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12 hours ago, YourFNF said:

So yeah I just wanted to confirm Zabrak was saying what I thought they were saying because that is an extremely offensive slur.

...what? For people who like crossdressing? I think that's a bit of a stretch to say the least.

EDIT: To be clear, calling a transperson a "trap" would clearly be an insult, and I can't speak for the person who first brought it up. However, the way that anime fans of today uses the word “trap” is different, generally referring to these cross-dressing characters, often in affectionate terms, and such characters are highly popular (see Astolfo).
 

That being said...

16 hours ago, Zabrak said:

its extra great because its not gay so all can enjoy :thinking:

Fuck off with this crap. Seriously.

Edited by tenck5k
Clarity. (see edit history)
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21 minutes ago, tenck5k said:

...what? For people who like crossdressing? I think that's a bit of a stretch to say the least.

EDIT: To be clear, calling a transperson a "trap" would clearly be an insult, and I can't speak for the person who first brought it up. However, the way that anime fans of today uses the word “trap” is different, generally referring to these cross-dressing characters, often in affectionate terms, and such characters are highly popular (see Astolfo).
 

That being said...

Fuck off with this crap. Seriously.

Yeah person seems queerphobic in general

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This is not exactly what I expected the discussion would look like, but it made me laugh.

Anyway, it looks like you guys don't mind male scenes too much, so there will likely be some more of them. The story will still primarily center on female characters and their accidents, of course, so don't worry if male scenes just aren't your thing.

Thanks for the feedback! I want to get the content train up and rolling again, so I'm happy to say that work has already begun on the next chapter.

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  • 2 weeks later...
2 hours ago, Poowrite said:

Oh my god, I love this story (♥ω♥ ) ~♪.

Indeed, I love pretty much all of  your work. Do you usually go in to these stories with an idea of where they're going, or do you just make it up as you go along?

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the next chapter.

I usually have a general idea of where the overall story arc is headed, but otherwise it's mostly just written on the fly. Usually, I know when a character will be introduced and what big event will happen, but the rest I just improvise.

Also, thanks! That means a lot.

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  • 5 months later...

Happy Halloween, everyone! I figured what better way to celebrate the spookiest holiday, as well as the anniversary of this story, than with a big, juicy chapter? Hope you guys all enjoy!

 



Eliza watched as the demon man plummeted from the air, thanks to her timely shot from Alma’s crossbow. Tabitha and Matthew were released from the unholy chains binding them, and Tabitha seized the opportunity to thrust her sword into the fallen cultist, finally finishing him off. As he writhed and breathed his last, the flames of Tabitha’s sword engulfed him, turning his body into a veritable bonfire.

Matthew was out cold, and Tabitha had fallen to her knees, then onto her stomach. Slowly, her eyes began to close, and a large bulge began to form in the seat of her pants. Eliza’s eyes widened, and she wondered if she had been too slow. Despite their unfriendliness towards each other, she didn’t want the witch hunter to die. Hazel moved passed her, and began to investigate their unconscious comrades.

“They’re alive!” She said, causing Eliza to exhale in relief. Hazel rolled Tabitha over, so she was lying on her back, the large mess in her trousers audibly squishing. Both Hazel and Eliza cringed a little. They did so again when they rolled Matthew over with similar results. Before long, Hazel’s relief had returned to worry as they did not awaken, “Can you wake them up? Don’t you have a potion or something that can help them?”

“I can make one...” She was lying. She already had an elixir that could wake up the both of them. Honestly, they didn’t even need it; they would be fine. But she needed to speak with Hazel, in private. “Hazy, could you… come with me? I need to gather the herbs.”

“But what about them? Will they be okay in here?”

“We’ve killed everything here, and the curse on this place is broken. They’ll be fine.”

“All right, then.”

The two of them walked back through the long cave, stepping over the remnants of the ghouls that had barred their way inside. Eliza was silent the entire walk, and she clutched her staff tightly. Hazel, despite the piss soaking her pants and shit filling her panties, managed to keep pace with her, even if she was walking slightly bowlegged. Evidently, she noticed Eliza being lost in thought, asking, “Is something wrong?”

Eliza was quiet for a minute more, trying to think of how to begin, “H-Hazy… ” Her voice quivered, and she suppressed a slight sob, “T-those people we just fought… They… ” Eliza struggled hard to force the words out, but her body wasn’t listening. Tears began to fill her eyes, and, unbidden, stream down her cheeks. She covered her face with one hand, turning away from Hazel, wishing she wasn’t so damn weak. Hazel moved around, and placed her hands on Eliza’s shoulders, Eliza responded by clutching onto her friend tightly, not quite a hug, but just as meaningful. “Those… ” Eliza finally began to compose herself, and found her voice again, “Those were my parents… ”

“What?!” Hazel looked down at her in alarm, “Why didn’t you tell us?! We- We could’ve-”

“No. It had to end like that… ” As much as it hurt her, it was true. She took a step back, and wiped her eyes, “They… They’ve been gone for a long time.” Hazel just looked at her, confused, but sympathetic. “I needed to talk to you. Just you,” She didn’t trust anyone else. “Those two… A long time ago, they… did some terrible things. To me, to others, and to themselves.”

“Is that why you lived alone?” Hazel inquired, trying to start fitting the pieces together.

“Yes… ” Her voice weak, and her heart heavy as she remembered such a dark time, Eliza continued, “When I found out what they were doing, I just… ran… ” Her composure kept crumbling, and her voice grew shaky, “If I hadn’t been such a coward then… ”

“Eliza, you can’t blame yourself for things like that,” Hazel snapped back, sympathetic but firm.

“But I-” She cut herself off, and closed her mouth abruptly. Tabitha was exiting the cave with Matthew in tow. They each had an arm looped around the other, and were still unstable and close to collapsing. Not wishing to continue this conversation in front of the witch hunter, Eliza simply remarked, “Let’s just help them back to town. We’ll talk more later.”

She grabbed a hold of Matthew while Hazel assisted Tabitha. She’d managed to ignore it when she was talking to just Hazel, but now that she was in such close proximity to all three of them, the odor of urine-soaked and shit-filled pants was nearly unbearable. Tabitha barely seemed to notice or care what she’s done in her clothes, and walked with a surprising dignity and professionalism. Matthew was still wounded from the fight, and was walking awkwardly, clearly trying not to further agitate the severe mess he’d made of his trousers. Hazel had this way about her, in that she seemed to just completely forget about the state of herself while she was helping Tabitha along. Despite the wet streaks down her legs and the conspicuous bulge in the seat of her pants, she pushed herself to walk normally. Eliza admired that about her. Personally, she was mostly just happy and impressed with herself for not doing the same things in her own panties.

While she observed her companions, She felt a dagger of fear shoot through her body as she noticed Tabitha glaring menacingly at her. Eliza looked away, and down towards the ground. She had a feeling the trip back to town would be a quiet one.

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Alma raised a fork with a bite of cooked meat skewered on it to her lips. She chewed and swallowed, but the action barely constituted “eating”. There was no taste, and she was barely even aware of what she was doing. She was much too distracted thinking of Hazel and Eliza, wondering if they were okay. What was I thinking, letting them go alone? Her troubled thoughts had been filling her with worry and guilt for some time, now.

Her fork scraped against her plate, and it took her a good few seconds to register that there was no food left. This helped bring her back to the current moment, as she fully remembered where she was and what she was doing. She was in a small, downtrodden inn. Only a few people were inside, most of them drinking. Lowering her fork, she stood and prepared to pay, only to recall that any money she and Hazel had was lost when their carriage was overturned.

“Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she patted down her pockets, searching for any kind of currency.

“No need, miss,” came the sullen innkeeper’s voice, “Way things are, none of us have much coin to throw around, nor much use for it.”

“Thank you, good sir,” She replied, truly grateful. Actual meals had been difficult to come by in recent days.

Exiting the inn, her ears were immediately assaulted with the voice of a nearly hysteric woman, “Emily!” she called out, desperately, into the woods. When no reply came, she turned around, but her eyes lit up with hope when she spotted Alma. She nearly sprinted towards her. Once she was closer, Alma were able to take in her appearance. She was a woman, maybe into her mid-thirties, with long auburn hair. She had smooth, fair facial features, but her face was twisted in sadness and worry. She wore a brown and white shirt, and a long blue skirt that reached down to her ankles. Alma’s eyes settled on a large stain on the front of the skirt. It was dried, but the discolored outline of a wetting was very apparent. Must’ve pissed on herself during the attack.

“You! You’re one of those monster hunters from out of town, right?!” The woman stammered out very rapidly.

“I am the monster hunter from out of town, yes.”

“Please, you have to help me!” Her face was more desperate than any Alma had ever seen, “My name is Marie. My daughter, Emily, she’s been missing for nearly two days, now.”

Emily? Alma’s face hardened as she recalled the woman who approached them in their camp; the one who led them here. Had she never made it back?

“With everything going on, I just know she must be lost somewhere, probably scared to death, and no one will help me find her!”

“I’m not exactly in any condition for hunting down a lost woman in a monster-infested forest,” Alma motioned to her broken arm, still stuck in a sling.

“I… I know, but please, I can come with you, or- or-”

“So we can both die?”

Please!” She shouted, her voice cracking as tears began to streak down her cheeks, “I know it’s dangerous, but if you don’t help me, then my little Emily could… ” She trailed off, the words getting stuck in her throat.

Alma was sure she must’ve sounded heartless to the poor woman. It wasn’t that she was afraid or disinterested, it was just a simple matter of her being injured and Marie likely being no good in a pinch. Hazel wouldn’t have hesitated, her mind taunted her, Hazel would probably already be halfway through the forest.

… Dammit. She knew Hazel looked up to her, but she never truly realized just how much she respected the merchant right back. She sighed deeply, “It will be extraordinarily dangerous. I’m wounded, and I won’t be much good in a fight. Are you willing to risk your own life for Emily?”

“Absolutely!” Marie answered without the slightest hesitation, catching Alma off guard. “If I’ve got a choice between my life or hers, I’m choosing Emily!”

“... So be it. I’ll grab some supplies. Find yourself anything you think might be useful. Bring a bag of salt. Meet back here in fifteen minutes,” With that, Alma turned and strode away to gear up.

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

A short while later, and Alma and Marie had ventured out into the wilderness, towards Emily’s last known location. Even with a shattered arm, Alma still looked the part of a deadly monster hunter. Her hat sat atop her head, she wore black trousers and a red shirt, with her beloved jacket dangling from her shoulders, since she couldn’t put it over her damaged arm. Since Hazel was currently using her crossbow, Alma carried only her silver dagger. Her good arm was broken, but she was still skilled at wielding the weapon in her left hand.

Marie wore the same clothes she had in town, and carried, as her weapon, a scythe. A farmer’s scythe. If things get dangerous, she isn’t going to last a second, she mused. Marie had at least followed her instructions and brought some salt with her.

Before very long, they came upon the site of their old camp. Emily may have been stealthy enough for them to not notice her directly, but she wasn’t good enough not to leave tracks. Broken twigs, disturbed foliage, and footprints all gave away the young woman’s path. They walked along Emily’s path. Marie evidently couldn’t see a single thing that Alma could, and stuck very close beside her. It was good that the woman had made herself so easy to track; Alma could feel a growing need to relieve her bowels, and she didn’t want to be out for much longer.

A pained groan a short distance away stopped both of them in their tracks. “Emily?” Marie whispered, before Alma raised her hand, signalling for silence. The two of them crept forward slowly, taking cover behind a tree. Peering around it, they saw a pale, emaciated man with scars covering his body. Marie covered her mouth, and recoiled backwards.

“Ghoul,” Alma said simply. Drawing her dagger, she bashed the handle against the tree, making a loud noise. A surprised grunt came from the direction of the ghoul.

“What are you doing?” Marie asked frantically. She was shaking.

Rapid, dragging footsteps drew closer and closer as the ghoul approached. With a snarl, it rounded the tree, and centered its vision on Marie. The poor woman was shaking so badly that she dropped her scythe, and brought her quivering hands up over her mouth. Her knees knocked into one another, and her bladder evidently released itself as Alma observed the spot where her skirt had already been urinated in grew wet with piss once more. A large stain grew, and little trails raced down the blue skirt, leaving darkened streaks behind them before reaching the hem and dripping onto the ground. Some urine wound down her legs, flowing over her shoes, and much of it simply fell between her shaking legs, splashing and puddling onto the ground.

Marie could only whimper as the ghoul approached her, but Alma was prepared. It passed by without noticing the hunter, and once she had the opportunity, she took it. Wielding the silver blade in her left hand, she sliced several times across the ghouls’ back, eliciting pained moaning and sizzling flesh. It fell to its knees, whereupon Alma jammed the blade into the side of the thing’s head, ending its moaning.

“Are you okay?” She asked Marie.

Her senses seemed to gradually return to her as she realized it was over, and that she was safe. Her eyes slowly panned downwards, centering on the giant stain on her skirt and the puddle below her. Her cheeks flared red, and she lowered her hands over her groin, trying to shield the evidence from view, “I’m fine,” she answered after a delay. She picked up her scythe, and the two continued onward.

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Near to two hours later, and they were still searching. Emily’s trail made inexplicable twists and turns, practically running in circles at certain points. Alma’s thoughts over the past hour or so had only been a stream of curses and swears as her need to empty her bowels grew from a pressing matter to an urgent one. “Emily!” Alma called out, hoping they had gotten close enough for her to hear them. Marie joined her in calling for the missing woman.

After minutes of shouting, the two were losing energy, and Alma didn’t want to attract any more monsters. That is, until they heard a woman cry “Help!” in the distance. Hearing this, their walk became a run, and they continued to call out as they ran in the direction of the voice.

At last, they came upon the source, and Alma could hear Marie begin to cry tears of joy when they spotted Emily. She was sitting upon a large, flat rock. The rock itself was positioned in front of a small cave mouth, and on the shore of narrow river that flowed into the cave. “Emily, sweetie! Come here!” Marie exclaimed as she approached her daughter. Emily’s face was pale, and she looked afraid. This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.

All too late, Alma spotted the reflection of the light in the eyes watching them from inside the cave. “Marie, get back, now!!” She commanded, but the ecstatic woman was no longer listening to her, she only cared that her daughter had been located. Located and used as bait! Alma realized. She ran forward, quickly catching up to Marie, and grabbed her by the arm. Not caring to be gentle, she pulled her back, and hard. Marie fell onto the ground, and Alma yanked her up and tossed her backwards as the beast finally emerged from its den.

She should’ve guessed; the strange, erratic trail Emily left- she was running from something. The trail was pristine and clear, because the beast wanted it to be. Even before the monster was fully visible, Alma knew exactly what it was: a huntsman. A massive, man-sized spider creature. Like a disgusting centaur, a sickly humanoid body rose from the creature’s front. Atop its bulbous head were no fewer than twenty black eyes, and two sets of fanged mandibles, one pointing up, the other down, creating an X-shaped mouth. Two clawed arms protruded from the upper body. These creatures were widely feared- and rightly so. They stalk prey for hours, before pursuing them, then using them as bait to lure in more prey. This thing must’ve been following them since before they set up camp, then captured Emily once she left on her own.

And now, it had successfully baited the two of them- a cripple and a frightened mother- directly to its lair. This was bad.

Evidently, the gravity of the situation was not lost on Marie, as Alma heard a faint squelching coming from the woman on the ground, followed by a somewhat watery sound. The smell of waste promptly confirmed that Marie had, indeed, just shit herself. It’s like Hazy is still here, Alma thought as she yanked Marie to her feet. A brown smear had formed on her backside, indicating that a good deal of the mess in her panties was not very solid.

Drawing her dagger, Alma started to draft some kind of plan for how to fight a huntsman alone, when she noticed that Marie was still clutching her scythe. Looking at the woman beside her, Alma was surprised to see that Marie, despite just having crapped herself, did not look afraid or faint, but rather, determined, and even angry. Then she noticed that the woman wasn’t glaring at the monster, but at her daughter. Marie’s resolve to protect Emily was nothing short of astounding to Alma.

“Marie,” She uttered, as the huntsman began to approach them, “Are you ready to save your daughter?”

“Absolutely,”

“Then listen close: Get that thing’s attention. Swing that scythe around, try to hit it. I’ll come around behind it and jump on its back. From there, I can stab it to death.”

“Understood,” She replied, then charged forward, scythe held high. The huntsman skittered forward, its own scythe-like claws ready to strike. Marie swung her weapon as hard as she can, and the monster quickly backstepped to dodge the blow. She kept up the pressure, swinging over and over again, forcing the beast back again and again. Alma used this bought time well, and maneuvered around the side of the large creature. She did her best to ignore how close she was to losing control of her own bowels.

Marie’s frantic swings were stopped as the huntsman parried one of her strikes, then moved in for the kill with its other hand. She was good as dead. Emily screamed in terror as she watched. Gritting her teeth at the ruin of their plan, Alma slashed at the beast’s leg, the silver biting into its unholy flesh. The strike that would have slain Marie was stopped abruptly as the huntsman recoiled in pain, then spun about to face Alma. Lacking any long range melee weapon, she knew that she stood no chance facing it directly. She began backtracking as fast as she could, nimbly dodging the stabs and slashes from the thing’s long claws. One thrust of its weaponized arm came close enough to her face that it sliced some of her hair. Alma launched herself backwards, narrowly dodging another slice that would have removed her head. She stumbled and fell backwards, her broken arm screaming in agony.

The huntsman closed the distance immediately, and would be upon her before she could stand- were it not for Marie. The woman ran forward, and swung the scythe downward, burying it deeply into the creature’s thorax. It screeched in pain. Alma used this distraction to return to her feet, and once again circle around the huntsman. Attempting to dislodge the scythe, Marie tugged and pulled, and managed to cut it deeper and deeper, but not pull it out. This aggravated it enough that it forgot about Alma, and turned to face Marie. She had failed to dislodge the scythe, and it was pulled from her hands as the beast turned about, leaving her defenseless.

By now, however, Alma had climbed atop the thing’s back, and made for its upper body. There, she proceeded to drive her silver dagger again and again through its many eyes, into its brain. It screeched and squealed, it flailed and shook, but slowly, all of that ceased, as the huntsman succumbed to Alma’s attacks.

They both were drenched in sweat by the time it finally died. Alma slid off its back, and collapsed onto the grass, panting heavily. A moment later, she rose to see Emily walking towards the two. “M-mom?” She said, in disbelief.

Without a word, Marie sprung from the ground and embraced her daughter. Now that she was so close to them, Alma noticed with some sympathy that Emily’s skirt was also wet in the front and browned in the back. Like mother like daughter, She joked to herself, Must’ve had the poor woman placed as bait for so long she couldn’t hold it any more. Just thinking of “holding it” reminded her of her own issues in that regard. She didn’t know at what point during the fight it had happened, but she could feel her mess had already begun to emerge, and was touching her panties.

She took one step, wondering if she could make it to a bush or something for some privacy, but felt her butt part and more mess flow into her panties as she did so. She sighed, and resigned herself to her fate. With a slight push, her mess slid out of her, and deposited into her panties with a quiet crackle. The soft mass collected in the back of her underwear, flattening and spreading out slightly, but mostly just creating a ball. She could feel quite a bit more still inside herself, and it joined the rest of the mass, further flattening and condensing it. By the time she had finished emptying her bowels into her pants, her trousers had an absolutely monstrous bulge on their rear. It had been a long time since she’d loaded her panties this badly.

A few moments later, everyone had caught their breath, and was ready to move on. Neither of them made a comment about the veritable mountain of mess Alma had left in her pants, but neither of them were in any position to judge. They made their way back to town, Marie and Emily not moving more than an inch away from each other the whole walk.

Edited by DsGSilver (see edit history)
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