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  1. I had already purchased this video before, so here it is :) Mega JeansPiss DELUXE! with MaryHaze.mp4
    5 points
  2. Version 1.1

    2,938 downloads

    Our protagonist, Chie, wet herself at the Culture Festival, this year. As she went to bed, that night, all she wished for was that the day never happened. In a cruel twist of fate, instead, the Culture Festival entered an endless loop. After Chie goes to bed, the day resets itself. At least she's the only one aware of what's going on? I would say have fun getting Chie through the day and night, dry, but we're not here for that, are we? Time to have fun putting Chie in situations where she has to constantly deal with having accidents and wetting the bed. There are a total of 10 Wetting scenarios and 6 Bed-Wetting scenarios. As a note, this game was never actually finished, so there are some inaccessible scenes and bugs. Known Issues: *It is possible to have the game not know what bathroom you're in and error out, forcing you to the outside bathroom. *It is possible to get the Coffee Recipe, but the scene where you do something with it was never made. *It is possible to obtain the Horror Tickets, but impossible to enter the Live Hall to see the show. *When entering a bathroom, the location still shows up in Japanese, in the upper right hand corner. If you encounter anything that is still untranslated (Or shows up as a bunch of squares), please let me know. Also, please let me know if there is any text that seems out of place. There were a lot of duplicate maps, and the scripts jumped around, a lot, so it's possible that I misinterpreted the context, somewhere. On a final note, a guide will not be fore-coming, from me. There is a NPC in game that you can get hints from, but everything is fairly easy to do.
    Free
    4 points
  3. I have plenty more in higher quality, but I'm pretty lazy when it comes to uploading things. This should be obvious, but do not message me asking for contact information. rose.mov sophia.mp4
    4 points
  4. I love how diverse her content is on her Clips4sale store. Cat could not make it into the bathroom.mp4
    3 points
  5. There is a list of people I’d like to thank before we get to the story. I’d like to thank @Bulge_Lover for being my editor and inspiring me to write medieval themed stories. Had it not been for him, I would have never taken to writing about medieval stuff. He has always been there for me and motivated me whenever I needed it. Thank you so much my friend! Your advice has always proved to be helpful. Thank you so much for everything. It wouldn’t have been possible without you! I’d like thank @KozmoFox for reviewing my work when it was still at a nascent stage. Thank you so much! You are an inspiration and your guidance was really helpful! I got to learn so much from you. Thank you! It wouldn’t have been possible without you! Thank you @OmoCommando for editing the first part of this story for me. You were truly kind and helpful and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me with my work. I’d like to thank @holditin for always inspiring me with his works and giving me the strength to believe that I can write whatever I love to write. Thank you so much buddy! You truly are an inspiration! And in the end, I’d like to thank @full-bladder12 for always motivating me and pushing me to keep writing omorashi! Thank you so much for supporting my work! I owe you big time! Thank you! Coming to the story, it is the sequel to my previous work, A Song of Swords, which I’m sure some of you might have read. It has a medieval setup which means it highly underlines the medieval practice of violence, though I promise you it was all necessary for the story. The story is built upon the base of the great fantasy works famous throughout the world, which will be evident once you begin the journey. These great works of literature have always inspired me and I’ve always wanted my work to be a reflection of them. I hope I’ve done justice to the great writers who have written these stories and to my readers as well. ---------------------------------- The Rains Of War CHAPTER- I THE CITY OF THE GODS The loud cry of warhorns, the screech and thud of catapults tossing stones, the crashes and splinters, the crackle of burning pitch, the fling of scorpions releasing their iron headed shafts, the ceaseless clangour of bells... and with it all, the cries of dying men. The sounds of battle pervaded the halls of the King’s Fort, where in a bunker the trestle tables were filled with the highborn ladies of the city, along with a handful of old men and young boys. The Queen had promised they all would be safe here. She sat on the high dais with her son, Prince Iwan. Her gown had a shade of green, like the colour of the sea after a storm. Her hair was tied in a bun and around her slender neck hung a rope of diamonds and emeralds. She signalled for her mug of beer to be refilled while the others quietly went at their broth. They had been here since morning, since the first report of the advancing enemy had reached the castle, praying to the mother as their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers and nephews prepared for battle. Though silence prevailed in the room, the air was heavy with fear, Queen Charlotte could sense it. If they were to lose this war, the Daltons would not spare even a single one of them. They had been raiding her father’s lands ever since she had managed to slip out of their clutches almost a year ago. Towns were brutally sacked, the buildings burned, the bodies of men, women and children butchered in the streets and left as fodder for rats and carrion crows. The long struggle had left the Torrington forces tired, beaten and broken trying to defend their lands from the enemy’s incessant onslaught. For long now, the Queen had worried about what would happen if Lord Reynard decided to march for Godswick. There was nothing to stop him from taking the city and the throne, and now all her fears were coming true. The attack she had dreaded for so long was at last at hand. The news of the approaching Dalton army had incited terror in the city streets. Thousands of smallfolk had streamed out the city gates in these past few days, carrying their children and their worldly possessions on their backs to seek safety in the country side, while others dug pits and tunnels under their hovels, dark clammy holes where they hoped to hide whilst the city burned. Riots had broken out all over the city as mobs surged through the streets, looting as they went. Hundreds died in stampedes, women were raped, and young ones had been plucked from their mothers’ breasts. The city guard lost over a hundred of their men trying to control the crowd. The Queen had ordered the city gates to be closed and barred days ago, sending watchmen to the walls and dispatching pigeons to Longford, carrying a message for her brother Walter, pleading him to come to her aid at once. As well, she had commanded pigeons to be sent to all the lords loyal to the crown, summoning them to the defence of their Queen, but most of them were afraid to stand against the Daltons and those who weren’t had already been put to sword. The city stood defenceless, like a lamb before a pack of wolves and the fate of the crown now rested in the hands of the almighty. The broth was followed by a salad of diced red-skinned apples, celery, grapes, chopped walnuts and yogurt. However scared, the guests ate whatever was served to them, though not the Queen, her plate was left untouched. After the salad came roast fowl, served along with frumenty and cabbage pottage, trailed by mutton roasted with leeks and carrots, served in trenchers of hollowed bread along with chicken covered with yolks and sprinkled with spices. The war raged outside the city walls till late at night. Thousands lost their lives, some only their arms or legs. The city was an image of blood, mud, fire and smoke. Arrows, rocks, screams and curses flew freely in the air. The guardians of the city fought bravely till the wee hours of morning but when the tide of the battle started turning in favour of the Daltons, their courage deserted them. Many threw down their weapons and ran, many yielded, but the most devastating blow to the city came when the captains commanding the twelve gates were murdered by their own men. A bit of coin had weakened the loyalty of those who were thought to be the city’s protectors. The city gates were opened to the Dalton army. For all the vaunted strength of its walls, Godswick fell in less than a day. A bloody fight waged at one of the gates where a few knights and men-at-arms still loyal to the crown tried to fight the enemies and hold against attacks both from inside the city and out, but their courage was for vain as Lord Reynard’s army poured in through the other gates unmolested. The realization that they were vastly outnumbered took the heart out of the Queen’s men. When they saw that resistance was futile, the members of the royal council surrendered the keys to the castle, bowing their heads in defeat, and ordered the knights and men-at-arms to lay down their swords. Though he had conquered the city, Lord Reynard’s triumph was far from complete. The Dalton soldiers stormed the castle and killed everyone they could find. But when they broke down the doors of the bunker they only found a flock of frightened women. The Queen had fled with her son, along with the knights Barnabus Ricaud, Mark Ambrose, and Robyn Hawksworth of the Queensguard. Not even the members of the council seemed to know where they had gone, and none had seen them pass through the city gates. CHAPTER- II WELCOME Rain lashed at Charlotte's face as she spurred her horse across the swollen stream. Beside her, Sir Mark gave the reins a tug and his mount neighed in response. A cold wind made the trees dance and sent the wet leaves flapping around them. She looked back at Iwan and hoped he could keep up. Though the Prince was now all of eleven, he still was not a good rider even in fair weather, and a whole day of rain had left the ground muddy with hidden rocks. The wind brought the water right into Charlotte’s eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her sodden and itching, her butt sore after the long ride. The sound of steady wash of rain against leaves filled her ears. It was mid-afternoon, yet the forest seemed as dark as dusk. All the beer and water she had drunk since yesterday sloshed inside her cavernous bladder, yet she rode on without a thought of it. Even now she felt no more than a slight urge for relief. The cold air made her shivery and her fingers felt stiff, she longed for a fire and a little tea to warm her. They wove a path between rocks and puddles, past great oaks, grey-green sentinels, and black-barked ironwoods. In places the branches wove a canopy overhead and she found a moment's respite from the drumming of the rain against her head. From a distance, she could see the massive walls and stout towers of Tilsworth. Green banners flew from its battlements, displaying the graceful golden deer of its lord. Lord Gilbert Furnival had been a loyal support to her father and had followed him into many wars without doubts or questions. She knew he would protect her and her son. When they got close enough a knight rode out to meet them. His armour was grey, but his cloak was the rippling green and black of Tilsworth. “Who goes there? State your purpose.” “Sir Mark Ambrose, with Her Highness Queen Charlotte and Prince Iwan,” the Queensguard answered. The knight lifted his visor. “I thought the lady looked familiar. It is a pleasure to have you both here, my Queen and my Prince,” he bowed. “May we enter the castle?” Sir Barnabus asked. The knight nodded in agreement. “In the name of Robert Furnival, Lord of Tilsworth, I bid you enter freely, and charge you to keep his peace.” “Robert?” Charlotte’s voice sounded her confusion, “I’m here to meet Lord Gilbert, his father.” “Forgive my man’s folly, my Queen,” she heard Robert call as he approached, guarded by half a dozen men-at-arms of his own. “My Lord father awaits you inside the castle.” He smiled and bowed. “My apologies he couldn’t be here to greet you, his health keeps him confined to his chambers.” Her mind found itself restless, her body a victim of fatigue. All she wanted to do now was take a long piss and go to sleep. Dulled by exhaustion, she nodded at Sir Mark. Stable boys took their horses from there and they walked inside afoot. “This way, if it please you, my Queen,” the Lord showed them the way, “You honour us greatly by being our guest, Your Highness.” But before she could respond to Lord Robert’s greetings, they came across something in the courtyard they would have never imagined … though Lord Gilbert’s charred corpse was burned beyond all recognition, hanging from the gallows; only by the jade ring he used to wear on his left thumb did Charlotte know him. The blood drained from the Queen’s cheeks, but young Prince Iwan was the first to realize what it meant. “Mother, run!” he shouted, but it was too late. Lord Robert’s men, over forty strong, fell upon the three Queensguard. An axe took Sir Robyn Hawksworth’s head before his sword could come out of its scabbard, and Sir Barnabus was stabbed through the back with a spear. Men closed from both sides. Sir Mark Ambrose reached back over his shoulder, ripped his sword from its sheath, and buried the blade in the head of the first man to come at him. Bronze was no match for steel. The blow sheared right through the guard’s helm and deep into his skull, Sir Mark kicked on his shoulder to free his sword, which came out blanketed with blood. Steel rang on steel as he danced with his sword and corpses fell to his feet, one after the other before a spear pierced through the back of his neck. Blood sprouted from his mouth as he choked with the fall and with him died the last of the Queen’s defenders. “Sir Mark Ambrose.... the greatest swordsman to ever walk....,” Robert smiled as he looked at the dead bodies lying all around him. Charlotte pulled her son to her chest,“Why?!” she yelled, tears welling from her eyes, the terror of her life stopping the words in her throat. For a moment she had thought she was safe. “Sometimes the old must go, to make place for the new. King Reynard is the new lord of the twelve kingdoms and anyone who denies his claim will die, just like my old Lord father did,” Robert stated. He signalled his guards with his head and they pulled Iwan away from her. “Mother!” he shouted. “No!” she screamed, trying to fight the men but to no gain. Her son was gone, she could not see him anymore. Where had they taken him? She did not know. CHAPTER- III DARK Her eyes had never starved for light like this ever before. There were no windows, no bed, no goblets made of gold that she was used to. Only darkness. She remembered walls of black stone, incompletely covered in a blanket of moss, a brownish door of splintered wood, four inches thick and studded with iron. She had seen them, briefly, a quick glimpse as they shoved her inside. Once the door had slammed shut, she had seen no more. The dark was absolute. She now knew how it might feel to be blind. The dungeon was under the castle, deeper than she dared imagine. Robert’s face seemed to float before her in the darkness. His shrewd, cunning eyes, his smile reflecting mockery. She wept when she thought of Iwan, though as silently as she could. The thought of him was as painful as a sword through the heart. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She wondered whether she would ever see him again. For how long she had been here she did not know. There was no sun and no moon. Charlotte closed her eyes and opened them; it made no difference. She slept and woke and slept again. She did not know which was more horrifying, waking or sleeping. When she slept, she dreamed of death and blood, and when she woke, all she could think of was about the same. Her bladder was jutting out of her abdomen now, filled with three days worth of piss. She knew she was in a dungeon, she knew she was alone and no one would see her if she decided to relieve herself here on the floor, but her pride stopped her. She was a lady, and a proper lady always and only relieved herself in a privy or a chamber pot and nowhere else. She was half-asleep when the footsteps came down the hall. Water, she thought. When the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sudden light was painful to her eyes, though she had grown used to it in this short while. The gaoler thrust a jug at her. The clay was cool and beaded with moisture. She grasped it with both hands and drank eagerly till it was empty. They brought her water every three to four hours but every time she drank it like she’d been thirsty for days. Something made her throat dry, maybe it was the fear. “How long..?” she asked weakly. The gaoler was an ugly man with a pot belly and bald, clad in a mail shirt and a leather half cape. “No talking,” he said as he pulled the jug from her hands. “Please,” Charlotte said, “my son...,” The door crashed shut. She blinked as the light vanished, lowered her head to her chest, and curled up on the straw. She could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. For as long as her spirit and strength gave her consent, she begged the man for some word of her son and the world beyond her cell. Grunts and kicks were her only replies. Later, when the stomach cramps began, she begged for food instead. Though they did not feed her, the gaoler brought her mugs of milk from time to time. One thing was clear to her by now, if Robert wanted her dead, he would have cut her down the moment he saw her. He wanted her alive. Weak, desperate, yet alive. But why? She lay there on the straw in silence as her bladder swelled further with all the water and milk and all the beer she had before leaving her castle. She ran a hand over her belly and wondered when she’d get to use a privy? Will they ever let her out of here? If not, would she just have to keep holding it? For long she listened to the sounds of beating and torture from other cells, she listened until she could listen no more to the cries and pleas, begging for the gift of death. Horror crept under her skin, so much that she lost her sleep. It had been two days since she had eaten, or maybe three. Down here in the dark it was hard to tell. But at least they brought her milk, the other prisoners did not get even that. But she could feel all the liquid bothering her bladder now. She wondered what fate had in store for her. Would she get out alive? Whenever she closed her eyes, she found herself remembering her husband. All this would have never happened had he been alive. Suddenly, she heard the sounds outside the dungeon door. It was strange. They had brought her water and milk just a while ago, so she knew this wasn’t that. They were coming to beat her, they would torture her. At once she froze, fearing even to breathe. She listened in terror, hard as stone, to the scuff of boots and the clanking of iron keys. No, she thought, no, please gods, not me, not me. She did not want to die, not this way. The sounds were growing louder. Please gods, he isn’t coming for me, she prayed, crouched down in a corner of her cell. Go away, she prayed, go away, pass me by, please, please. But the footsteps stopped just when they were loudest, and the keys clattered right outside the door. Her hands trembled in horror. “No,” she mumbled, “Noooo.” Her clothes fought with the straw as she tried to push herself into the corner, into the cold damp stone walls. The sound of the lock turning was the most terrible of all. Torchlight fell across her face as the door creaked open. She shielded her eyes with a hand. And when the man came to stand before her, she let out a shriek. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He was simply too big to be unintimidating and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of clay pots, and his feet in their leather boots were like tree trunks. She looked at him wide eyed, afraid that he was going to smash her skull open or do something even worse. Charlotte was certain she was going to die tonight but then the giant opened his mouth, “My Queen, don’t be scared,” he bowed down a bit, “I’m Gunther, the kennel master, come with me, I’ll get you out of here” he said. For a moment she did not believe him. Maybe this was a trap. But how much worse could it get? “My son” her lips trembled, tears flooding her cheeks. He held out his vast muscular arms to help her up. “Don’t worry, he has escaped,” the giant whispered. “Now come with me before someone sees us.” The gaoler was dead drunk in a puddle of wine, with his breeches down around his ankles. They quickly climbed the steep dungeon steps, the flame of the torch in Gunther’s hand flickering like a dancer’s hips. “The Hunter’s Gate has no guards,” he spoke but Queen Charlotte didn’t reply; only looked at him. She walked rigidly, with her thighs slightly pressed together and a hand on her stomach, a sign that she would like to let out her three days worth of urine, but she didn’t let it show and kept her composure strong. It was a chill dank autumn night. Clouds hid the roof of stars above and wind made the trees dance. It smelled like rain. Charlotte did not know whether that was good or bad for their escape. No one saw them, and they saw no one, only a black cat creeping along atop the wall. The fires were out, and the castle fast asleep. The postern gate was unguarded, just as he had said. Outside the walls of Tilsworth, a wolf howled long and loud. Gunther lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door, they slipped from the castle and splashed across the stream, stumbling over stones. Wisps of pale mist threaded between the trees. Sentinels and soldier pines grew thick about here, and there was nothing as dark and gloomy as an evergreen forest. CHAPTER- IV A FRIEND INDEED The rays of the morning sun pierced through the roof of leaves over their heads, showing them the way ahead. Her mount walked forward in the dense forest, beside Gunther’s large garron. They crossed a shallow stream and went deeper into the woods. Many a times during the cold night that went by, Queen Charlotte had found the moments to close her eyes and sleep, even if it was for short whiles. But the man had been awake since their escape. Only once had he stopped to rest and eat apples that he had carried in a sack. Charlotte had been fending off her increasing bladder pangs for hours now, trying not to think much of it. Taking a deep breath, she again reminded herself that she had to wait until she got to a privy or a chamber pot, no matter how badly she wanted to go. She knew her bladder was much too large but everyone had their limits. More and more she found herself thinking of emptying her swollen vessel but every time she erased the thought from her mind. She looked around to take her mind off her need and felt as if she knew the place. “The Enchanted Forest,” she sighed. Of all the tales her Lord father had told her of the place, one she had cherished more than the rest. It told of a monstrous beast that lived in this forest over ten thousand years ago, a lion with the head of a goat arising from its back, and a tail that ended with a snake’s head. Every night the fiend would appear from the forest to hunt people from the nearby village. It killed anyone it could find men, women or children and dragged them back to its den to devour. To appease the creature, the people of the village fed it two sheep every day. But when they ran out of sheep they started feeding it their children who they would choose through draw. There came a time when the lot fell on the lord’s daughter.The lord, in his grief, told the people they could have all his gold and silver and half of his lands if his daughter were spared but the people refused. The poor girl was sent out to the forest to be fed to the monster. But just when it appeared from the woods, snarling at the trembling girl, Sir Richard Cantillon, who happened to be riding through, thrust his sword into the beast’s back. A gory battle took place between the knight and the monster which ended when Sir Richard buried his sword into the animal’s stomach. It died, but not before bathing the warrior in a burst of flames that cooked him in his armour. When she was a child, all Charlotte wanted was to become like Sir Richard Cantillon, strong, valiant and kind. But the older she grew, the more she realized that what she wanted did not matter. What mattered was her father’s name and the honour of their house, what mattered was her husband’s crown and the name it held and what mattered was her son’s life and the throne he was going to sit on. She now knew that her life had never been her own. It had been for others, the ones she loved. They went on for another hour before in the middle of the dense forest they came upon a small hut with a chimney that had smoke coming out of it. Gunther lifted her from the saddle and gently landed her on the ground before knocking on the thick wooden door, “Martha?” The door opened and stepped out a beautiful middle aged woman, who looked gentle by her appearance. “Your Highness, this is Martha, my wife,” Gunther said. “Oh, my Queen!” Martha bowed when she realized who stood before her, “It is such a great pleasure to have you here!” she couldn’t control her joy and kissed Charlotte’s hands, “Please do come in” she welcomed Her Highness, and the Queen smiled meekly, trying to conceal her bladder fatigue. “The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing, Gunther, you'll get us some fish," Martha echoed. “Of course, my dear,” the giant picked up the net that hung outside and left for the brook nearby. Meanwhile Martha filled the kettle, lay the table, cut the bread and put the plates in the oven to heat and drew a huge jug of beer for Gunther from a barrel which stood in one corner of the house. Just as the frying-pan was nicely hissing, Gunther came in with the fish which he had already opened with his knife and cleaned out in the open air. The new-caught fish smelled rich while they were fried it, making him feel hungrier. Martha drained the potatoes and then put them all back in the empty pot to dry on the side of the range before dishing up the trout as everyone prepared to eat. There was a jug of creamy milk for the Queen and a great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table to go with their potatoes. Though the Queen only had some bread along with the milk, she felt hungry no more. “I would like to thank you both, I owe you my life,” Charlotte spoke, “I promise you’ll be rewarded handsomely for this,” she finished as she looked at them. “Oh, that won’t be needed, my Queen,” Martha smiled, “It is our duty to serve Her Highness.” She forced a smile but her concern soon boiled over. “I’m worried for Iwan, I don’t know where he might be now,” she held her face. “Norman, one of the stable boys, I asked him to take the Prince to your brother who is not too far away from the capital now, moving forward with this mighty host,” Gunther assured her, “We could have escaped together but this way it will be difficult for them to catch us.” “Does my brother know?” Charlotte asked, her fist clenching tightly over the table. “No, he doesn’t,” Gunther replied, “Robert planned to sell you to a flesh merchant from across the Troubled Sea. Men would kill to have the Queen warm their bed. It won’t be long before the word gets out though,” he stood up, “Robert will have his men looking for you, that is why I brought you here.” Martha filled one of Gunther’s huge beer jugs and placed it before the Queen. “Thank you,” Charlotte said with a wry smile, avoiding mentioning her swelling bladder. Despite a wait this long, the Queen was not desperate. The beer was going to make its presence felt soon enough but she knew she could hold it. “Lord Walter plans to march on Godswick when the time is right. Reynard Dalton sits warily on the throne. His forces have dwindled but many have joined his cause, mainly out of fear,” the giant said. “I must be with my brother... I must go to Walter...,” Charlotte found herself drowning in her pool of thoughts. “It won’t be safe for you to move out right now,” Gunther added, “I say, you stay here, my Queen.” “I know, but I need to know where Iwan is,” she said, “I’m worried for him.” “I know, my Queen,” Gunther spoke softly, “....but I assure you he is safe, might have as well reached your brother’s camp.” That calmed her down a bit but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m afraid I must leave your here with my wife, Your Highness,” Gunther said, “I must go back to Tilsworth or they’ll come looking for me.” With a nod she gave him her leave and Gunther looked at his wife before stepping out of the door. Just as he left, Martha came to her, with her legs crossed and her body bent a little, “My Queen, if I may have your permission, can I go out to relieve myself? I haven’t been all day.......,” “Well, of course you may,” Charlotte answered. In that moment, she wished she was a commoner as well. Then she could have peed anywhere she wanted and no one would have cared. But she was the Queen; it would botch the name of her family if she was to do something like that. She shook her head and let that thought go. Hold it, she told herself as she clenched her fists over the table. As Martha rushed out, Charlotte walked to the window and looked intently at the woman. She saw Martha lift up her dress, which revealed her bulging bladder, it was gigantic! It was nothing close to her own swollen bladder but it was huge none the less. Charlotte turned around when she saw Martha begin to squat and went near the fire place but in her mind she imagined the relief that might be flowing through the woman’s body. She wanted that relief too but she knew she’d have to wait for it. As the night fell, Charlotte began to feel cold. Thus Martha heated up the mare’s milk she had full in a huge cauldron and filled a mug for Charlotte. The Queen felt much better as she began to sip the hot drink. It was something she had never tasted before, sweet and foamy and creamy, and it warmed her right down to her toes. She stayed up all night, sitting by the fireplace with a blanket around her, drinking the mare’s milk. By the morning the cauldron was empty but the Queen felt tired and her headache had worsened. Her shoulders pained and her fingers felt stiff. After she came back from picking cherries off the bushes, Martha brewed the Queen a kettle of hot nettle tea, which gave the Charlotte a slight respite from the headache. The warmth spread through her body and made her feel better. She cradled the tea in her hands and blew on it to cool it. Fate seems to be upset with me, Charlotte thought as she sipped the astringent tea, before I go to my son, I only wish to see my father once. But she knew she could not. She had written to him before the day Godswick fell. I love you father, I pray for you to the Lord each night, may he grant us strength in these difficult times. Over the day she drank over a dozen kettles of nettle tea and though it made her feel warm and nice, it didn’t help abate her headache. It made her want to pee more but she corked it up like an iron horse. When the night had shrouded the forest in its dark and Martha and Charlotte had fallen asleep, a sudden banging at the door woke them up. Martha opened the door to find Gunther, with a look of fear on his face, “Hurry, we must leave right now, Lord Robert’s men are on their way here! There’s not a moment to lose...,” Martha turned swiftly and handed over a blanket to Queen Charlotte, before picking up sacks and laying them on the table, "Gunther, just reach down that ham and get two or three loaves out of the crock over there in the corner." "What are you doing?" exclaimed Gunther. "Packing a load for each of us, dearie," said Martha chaotically. "You didn't think we'd set out on a journey with nothing to eat, did you?" "But we do not have any time to waste!" said Charlotte, wrapping the blanket around herself. "They may be here any minute." "That's what I say," added Gunther. Martha packed whatever little she could and they all rushed out. Queen Charlotte walked, her bladder straining with the movement and Gunther helped her on her horse, before they set out into the cold night. CHAPTER- V THE ONE OF HER OWN Martha had gone ahead to scout, and it was she who brought back word of the army at a distance. "By their fires I think they might be twenty thousand strong," she said. "Their banners are green, with a dancing horse." "It is my brother," Charlotte said, her mammoth bladder aching after the long night’s ride. She put her heels to her horse and trotted off, giving Gunther and his wife no choice but to follow or be left behind. Distant watchers peered down from watchposts made of wood as the three rode towards them. A dozen crossbowmen manned the uneven hilltops. Charlotte halted Martha and Gunther out of range and rode up. "Who commands here?" she shouted. The captain was quick to appear, and even quicker to give them an escort when he recognized the Queen. She could see the camp spread out to a vast distance. Mailed men sat under trees and honed their blades, and familiar banners fluttered from staffs thrust into the muddy ground. The air was filled with the smoky haze of a thousand cook fires. Thousands of pavilions rose from the grass like silken mushrooms. A party of mounted horsemen rode forward to greet them as they ventured further in. The knight who led them wore silver armour inlaid with ametrine and striped purple and golden cloak and his shield bore a lamp for the sigil. Charlotte reined up to greet him. “Sir Adam.” Sir Adam Popplewell lifted his visor. "Your Highness," he said in astonishment. "We all feared for your safety, it is a blessing to see you unharmed!" He looked at the giant and the beautiful woman besides him uncertainly. "These . . . friends of yours . . .” "My travel companions," Charlotte said. "Where will I find my brother?" "He is in his pavilion." "I will see him at once." "As you say, my Queen." Lord Walter’s camp spread over leagues. Martha’s estimate of twenty thousand men could not be far wrong. The common men camped out in the open, but the knights had thrown up tents, and some of the high lords had erected pavilions as large as houses. Near all the chivalry of the east had come to Walter’s call, it seemed. Charlotte could see the silver eagle of the Calverts, Lord Longwood's pine tree, the bells of Swinton, the beaver of Stillman. Everyone bowed as she rode past, containing all the water beer and milk she had consumed as it streamed into her bladder. And even though she was holding this much, her demeanour was calm as ever and only her bulbous abdomen could tell otherwise. Martha was gaping back; beyond a certainty, she had never seen so many men, horses, and weapons in all her days. A pair of house guards in greenish cloaks and helms stood outside the great pavilion, on either side of the door. Charlotte recognized their captain. "My brother?" "Inside, my Queen." "Those two who came with me will want clothes to wear, beds to rest and meat and mead to fill their stomachs," Charlotte told him. "See that they are well taken care of." She entered the pavilion, and there was Walter. She found her brother surrounded by their father’s lords bannermen. Walter Torrington, The acting Lord of Longford, was in his early thirties. He was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders and a flat stomach. With rich black hair, a handsome face and brown eyes. He stood leaning onto the table, a pile of maps and papers in front of him, talking intently with Earl Calvert and Victor Atwell. At first he did not notice her... but the other lords did. The lords fell silent one by one, and Walter looked up at the sudden quiet and saw her. “Charlotte?” he said, his voice thick with sentiment. Charlotte wanted to run to him, to hug him so she could feel safe again, but here in front of his lords, she dared not. So she held herself at the far end of the table. Lord Hadrian was the first to travel across the tent to pay his respects, kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. “My Queen,” he said, “you are fair as ever, a welcome sight in troubled times.” Lord Earl followed, his son Baron, and the rest, one by one. Sir Duncan was the last. “I had not looked to see you here, my Queen,” he said as he knelt. “I had not thought to be here,” Charlotte said, “....until I escaped from Tilsworth, and someone told me that Walter had his host moving towards the capital.” “My Queen, we had men looking for you everywhere but none of them could find you...,” Lord Victor said. The lords were anxious to talk to her, but Charlotte raised a hand. “No doubt we will have time for all this later, but my journey has fatigued me. I would speak with my brother alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Calvert, the bannermen bowed and took their leave. “Have you had any word of Iwan?” she asked the moment she was sure they were alone. “There was a letter,” Walter said. He went to the table, rummaged among some maps and papers, and returned with a crumpled parchment. Something in Walter’s tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. Her son was Lord Reynard’s prisoner now. She held the table for support as something broke inside her and tears came to her eyes. “He wants me to surrender you to him as well and ask my men to ride back home,” he added. “And if we march... even if we win... he’ll kill Iwan.” Her hopes were crushed, the light within her suddenly dimming. She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think. All she knew was she couldn’t lose. Not after coming this far. “If you turn your tail and retreat to Longford, your lords will lose all respect for you. Some may even go over to the Daltons. Then Reynard, with that much less to fear, can do as he likes with Iwan,” Charlotte looked at him with pleading eyes. “Our best hope, our only true hope, is that you can defeat the foe in the field. If you should chance to take Lord Reynard or any of his sons captive, then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as you have power enough that he must fear you, Iwan should be safe. Reynard is wise enough to know that he may need him to make peace, should the fighting go against him.” “What if the fighting doesn’t go against him?” Walter asked. “What if it goes against us? He has twice the numbers I have.” “They say the Daltons have hearts of stone.” Charlotte looked down for a moment and then towards him, “If you lose, there is no hope for any of us.” Walter saw the fear and desperation in her eyes. “Then I will not lose,” he vowed. CHAPTER- VI THE STONE TABLE The morning that followed was a strange one. Charlotte woke up in her pavilion that was larger than the common rooms of an inn and furnished with every comfort: feather mattress and sleeping furs, a wood-and-copper tub large enough for two, braziers to keep off the night's chill, slung leather camp chairs, a writing table with quills and inkpot, bowls of peaches, plums, and pears, a flagon of wine with a set of matched silver cups, cedar chests packed full of clothing, books, maps, game boards, a high harp, a tall bow and a quiver of arrows, a pair of red-tailed hunting hawks and more. She tried to sit up on her bed but felt an immense increase in pressure as she did so. Her bladder was now rock hard. The barrel of beer she had emptied last night while discussing the battle plan with her brother and his bannermen was now brewing inside her bladder, stretching it out immensely. She still was not at her limits, but she was very, very full and her bladder felt very heavy in her abdomen. She quickly dressed herself up but before she left for her brother’s pavilion, Charlotte reminded herself that she had to act normally no matter how much her bladder ached. She was determined to keep her legs uncrossed all the times. She knew she was in full command of her bladder and she could wait to empty it. So, nursing her bursting bladder, she walked as normally as she could to her brother’s camp. She found him sitting on his chair, looking carefully at the map that lay before him. “Your Highness,” he rose up to greet her. “Is there any word of Iwan?” Charlotte asked as she walked towards her seat, containing in her iron bladder litres and litres of urine. “Well, no. But the scouts report King Reynard has moved his army further up,” Walter studied the pieces on the map, “He wants to end this as far away from the capital as he can.” Just then a knight entered the pavilion, "Sorry to interrupt you My Lord, but there is a messenger from Reynard Dalton." Charlotte looked at her brother and he looked back at her. "Let him approach," said Walter. The knight went away and soon returned leading the King’s messenger. “What is your message?” asked Walter. "The King of Solambria desires a safe conduct to come and speak with you," he said, "on a matter which is of as much concern to you as to him." "King of Solambria, indeed!" said Charlotte. "That bastard -" “Charlotte, no,” said Walter, “.... we might have a chance to get Iwan back” he added, “Tell your King, that I grant him safe conduct.” The messenger bowed and left. The hours that went by left Charlotte’s mind laden with the thoughts of her son and for once she did not think of her bladder that was now swollen outrageously to contain the copious amount of liquid she had consumed. Even when she felt the need she acted as if her bladder was empty. Only the significant bulge of her abdomen told otherwise. The wait was getting on her nerves, but she did not worry. She knew her bladder would swell further if needs be but would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. A herald’s voice suddenly boomed across the empty skies, “Here comes King Reynard of the House Dalton, the fifth of his name, Emperor of the twelve kingdoms and the father of the realm.” The Queen felt a shudder running down her back at the sight of his face. Murmurs rose from the men around. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Walter and the King himself. They entered the tent and took their seats. "The bitch is here," said Reynard looking at Charlotte, his voice cold and straight “and I have her pup.” His words enraged Walter but he reined the storm within him. "Well," said Walter. "What do you want from us?" “What do I want? Huh!” Reynard grinned, “You speak as if you do not know. I want both their heads on spikes, yours too if you don’t mind.” “You have Iwan, why haven’t you killed him yet if that is what you want?” “Well oft times I’ve heard that a live captive is of more value than a dead one,” Reynard breathed. He looked at Charlotte and then at her brother. "Have you forgotten the Laws of the God?" asked the King, coming straight to the point, his voice stiller than before. "Let us say I have forgotten them," answered Walter gravely. "Tell us of these Laws." "Tell you?" said Reynard, his voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone that the Servants of the God carved with their own hands? You very well know the Laws of the God. You know that as the King of Solambria, every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have the right to kill." He looked at her again. "And so," continued Reynard, "....the Prince and his mother are mine. Their lives are forfeit to me. Their blood is my property." Charlotte stood on Walter’s side, looking all the time at his face. She felt a choking feeling and wondered if she ought to say something; but she didn’t know what to say. "Charlotte," said Walter, "I will talk to the King alone." She turned and left the pavilion. It was a terrible time this - waiting and wondering while Walter and King Reynard talked. They talked for long and until the night fell dark and the shimmering stars glowed in the sky. As she waited outside the tent, Charlotte gave an “aah!” and hiked one leg up as the bladder pangs grew stronger but then stood confidently without giving a trace of her desperation to the men around her, as her organ swelled past the six day mark. The gallons of water she had today were stretching her bladder walls even further. There was going to be no release of pressure until she wished it and there would be no giving into the desperate need to let out the massive lake that she had inside her, she’d just have to wait. Then suddenly King Reynard appeared out of the tent and left without saying so much as a word. Charlotte went to her brother who took a last sip from his goblet of wine. "I have settled the matter. He has renounced the claim on your lives." Charlotte felt so relieved, as if she had began to breathe again. She held her bladder as a smile ran across her face. “...and he promised to send Iwan back early on the morrow,” he continued. She couldn’t believe her ears, her joy knew no bounds. Then, she stopped, “But what did he ask for in return?” she could read the sorrow on her brother’s face. But of that she did not get an answer as Lord Walter stood up and left. Charlotte couldn’t sleep that night. She had a horrible feeling - as if something was hanging over them. She felt as if something dreadful was going to happen to her brother. Early morning the next day, as he had promised, King Reynard returned the Prince to them. Sir Adam Popplewell brought him to the Queen and she pulled him to her loving embrace, “Oh, my son....,” she cried as her fingers ruffled through his hair. “Mother!” he sobbed, the wound on his lower lip paining him. She ran her hands through his beautiful face and wept, thanking the God. “They killed Norman and they tried to kill my friend too but he got away!” the young Prince cried when he found the strength to speak. “Friend? Who?” “My friend, Tirius!” Iwan told her, trembling. “Tirius?” Charlotte believed she had never heard that name before. “Yes, mother. He is my friend,” the Prince nodded, “You would not believe but he had legs like a goat’s and two small horns over his head, he brought me apples and cherries while I hid in the forest! But then they found me!” Charlotte couldn’t believe the words of her son. Maybe the shock and fear had caught to him. She could not say. She only knew that the boy was frightened and only time would heal his wounds. She asked a squire to take the Prince to his pavilion and help him bathe, while she proceeded for the war meeting. All through the meeting she strode about around the tent as she spoke to the lord’s bannermen, still keeping her legs apart and paying no mind to her aching bladder. She needed this victory more than she needed anything else and she was going to make every effort she could for it. But during that day, many a times she heard her brother telling Lord Atwell how to place his men against the Dalton army while in battle. He told him of every move or strategy he could think of and also gave him the command of his army. "But you will be there yourself, my Lord," Lord Atwell asked. "I can give you no promise of that," Walter answered. He did not talk very much and seemed to them to be sad. Walter's mood affected everyone that evening. Lord Atwell was feeling distressed also at the idea of fighting the battle on his own; the news that Lord Walter might not be there had come as a great shock to him. Supper that evening was a quiet meal. This feeling affected Charlotte so much that she couldn't get to sleep when she went to bed. And after she had laid counting sheep and turning over and over she heard Martha give a long sigh and turn over just beside her in the darkness. "Can't you get to sleep either?" asked the Queen. “No,” said Martha. "I thought you were asleep, my Queen." "No, I couldn’t. I've a most horrible feeling - as if something were hanging over us." "Have you? Because, as a matter of fact, so have I." "Something about Walter," said Charlotte. "Either some dreadful thing is going to happen to him, or something dreadful that he's going to do." "There's been something wrong with him all afternoon," said Martha. “What was that he said about not being at the battle? You don't think he could be stealing away and leaving us tonight, do you?" "I don’t know. Where is he now?" said the Queen. "Is he here in the pavilion? I’m worried for him,” she added, "I want to see him." “My Queen, he must be asleep by now, can’t it wait till the morrow? “No, I’ve to see him right now,” Charlotte threw away her blanket, “I have a feeling that he needs me.” "All right, let's," said Martha, "....we might just as well be doing that as lying awake here." So the two women slid out of the tent and quietly made their way towards Walter’s pavilion. The moonlight was bright and everything was quite still except for the noise of the river chattering over the stones. Charlotte peeped into his tent and found he wasn’t there. "Is he here in the pavilion?" asked Martha "I don't think so." "Let’s have a look round,” Martha spoke “We might see him." And then, on the far side of the camping ground, just where the trees began, they saw her brother slowly walking away into the wood. Without a word they followed him. He led them up the steep slope out of the river valley and then slightly to the right. On and on he led them, into dark shadows and out into pale moonlight, getting their feet wet with the heavy dew. They saw that they were going up the slope of the hill on which the Stone Table stood, an ancient relic known to all the men of the realm. They heard the sounds of men talking and the two women crouched behind a thick wall of bushes. Almost a score of men stood round the Stone Table. It was a great grim slab of grey stone supported on four upright stones. It looked very old; and it was cut all over with strange lines and figures that might be the letters of an unknown language. Though the moon was shining, many of them carried torches which burned with red flames and black smoke. And right in the middle, standing by the Table, was King Reynard himself. They laughed at her brother and made japes of him. “The fool!" King Reynard said. "The fool has come. Bind him fast." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths waiting for Walter to draw his great sword and cut his enemies down. But it never happened. Four soldiers came forward to tie his hands and legs to which he made no resistance at all. Then they began to drag him towards the Stone Table. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two women could not even see him - so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of men kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him. At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag Walter to the Stone Table. “Those bastards...,” sobbed Charlotte. When once Walter had been tied on the flat stone, a silence fell on the crowd. Four men, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. Reynard Dalton pulled out his sword. The thing shone in the moonlight, white as milk. At last he drew near. He stood by Walter's head, who looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before Reynard gave the blow, he stooped down and said in a quivering voice, “Fool, did you think that by all this you would save your sister and her pup? Now I will kill you instead of the Prince as our pact. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him and his bitch mother? And who will take them out of my hand then? I have two times the men you have but this has made things really easy for me. Without a leader your army will scatter in no time. Understand that you have handed over the fate of your sister and her son into my hands, you have lost your own life and you have not saved theirs. I hope you find peace in the afterlife.” He brought down his sword to pierce right through Walter’s chest. The blood of his life ran on the stone table and he closed his eyes. Charlotte covered her face, trying to stop the images of her brother’s murder but it didn’t help. She cried without making a sound and Martha tried to hold her. CHAPTER- VII THE LAWS OF GODS AND MEN While the two women still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the King calling out, "Our work is done here. Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the whore now that her foolish brother lies dead." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths as the men walked past the bushes. They would be raped before being butchered if King Reynard got to know they hid here. Their laughs and japes echoed in Charlotte’s ears as they mounted their horses and swept off the hill-top. At any other time she would have trembled with fear; but now the sadness and shame and horror of Walter’s death so filled her mind that she hardly thought of it. As soon as the wood was silent again Charlotte and Martha crept out onto the open hill-top. The blanket of clouds hid the strokes of the moonlight, painting the night deeper and darker, but still they could see the shape of her brother’s body lying dead in his bonds. They both knelt down in the grass, before the Queen kissed his cold face and stroked his beautiful black hair; “He did this to save us...,” tears flooded her cheeks, her voice shaken. She cried and cried till she could cry no more. She looked at Martha and sobbed for she felt lonely and weak. "Help me" she said as she stood up and tried to pull out the sword that pierced her brother’s chest. They put all their strength to pull out the sword that had cut into the stone and at last it came free, her brother’s blood dripping off its edge. Charlotte tossed it aside and fondled Walter’s face. They tried to untie him but the cords were drawn so tight that they could do nothing of the knots. A certain quiet surrounded them. Charlotte felt as if nothing was going to happen ever again. Hours and hours went by in the dead calm, and they hardly noticed that they were getting colder and colder. Though Martha noticed the sky on the east side of the hill was a little less dark than it had been an hour ago. Then Charlotte in a fit of broken despair tried to untie her brother for one last time, and this time she succeeded. The sky in the east was whitish by now and the stars were getting fainter - all except one very big one low down on the eastern horizon. They felt colder than they had been all night. Every moment Walter’s dead face looked nobler, as the light grew and they could see it better. In the wood behind them a bird gave a chuckling sound. It had been so still for hours and hours that it startled them. Then another bird answered it. Soon there were birds singing all over the place. It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night. Martha rubbed arms to fight the cold as she looked on in despair at the broken Queen. The rising of the sun had made everything look so different - all colours and shadows were changed that. Charlotte held her brother in a tight embrace. Lost. All was lost. Her brother was gone. Her tears knew no end and her breathes were broken still. Defeat was absolute. “The Laws of the God...,” there came a voice from among the trees that startled both the women to the toes. “Who’s there?” Charlotte went wide eyed, horror creeping under her skin. Martha took a step back, sweat beading down her forehead. And then a very strange person stepped out of the trees, into the light. He might have been as tall as Iwan. From the waist upwards he was like a man, but his legs were shaped like a goat's, the hair on them was glossy brown and instead of feet he had goat's hoofs and his skin was rather reddish too. He had a strange, but pleasant little face, with a short pointed beard and curly hair, and out of the hair there stuck two horns, one on each side of his forehead. Charlotte and Martha couldn’t believe their eyes. A faun stood before them, a being of whom they had heard of only in fables. For a moment Charlotte thought she was dreaming but then the sight of her brother’s corpse stabbed her. “My Queen, I’m Tirius, a friend to Prince Iwan,” he bowed before her. The two of them didn’t know what to say. Fear stopped the words in their throats and left them shaking. Iwan was right, the person he had been describing was true after all. “The Laws of God, my lady, are strange but just. They say, only he can govern what is true and what is false. Only he holds the right to give life and to take it back,” he walked towards them, “....but he is not the only one who can give life. A mother can give life as well.” Charlotte looked at him with tear filled eyes. She couldn’t understand what he was saying and she didn’t know what to say. “The Stone Table was built thousands of years ago, on the command of the almighty, to serve as a symbol of justice and only the King could serve this justice,” he looked at Walter’s face, which seemed to be at peace, “The King is next to the God and his word is absolute. But if the Lord almighty gave the King the power to take life, he gave the Queen Mother the power to give life as well.” His words struck a string of hope within her. Suddenly her heart started to beat faster. “The Stone Table does not agree to the blood of an innocent,” Tirius told them, “If someone, for no fault of his is executed on the Table, then he can be brought back to life, but only by the Queen Mother.” “How?” she asked, her voice shaken, “It is not possible...,” “But it is...,” Tirius said, “It could be...it all depends upon the faith.” She looked at him, then at her brother and then at Martha. Wrecked by grief she stood up and placed her hands on the chest of her brother’s corpse, and though she didn’t believe the faun, the words came to her mouth, “My Lord, the creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you, shed your mercy upon us.....,” Her words sounded hollow to her ears, her hands touching her mistrust. She tried and tried but her brother’s breathes did not return. She sighed, broken in spirit. Her eyes closed in defeat. Tears flowing down her face. She looked at him, hoping he would move, hoping he would speak but his soul was gone. Gone far away. Her hands shook. She had lost. She looked at Martha, who stood still, not uttering a word. Charlotte turned and walked, to where she did not know. “My Lady there is one more way....,” Tirius spoke suddenly. She stopped on her track, then started walking again. “My Queen, without Lord Walter this war is lost,” Martha’s voice sounded in her ears, “Only he could have guided your men to victory.” Charlotte knew that was the truth but could she believe the faun’s words? “My Lady, inside the Castle of Light and Dark lays a hidden chamber. And inside that chamber is a tabernacle which holds a chalice of gold. The chalice that contains the God’s wine.” He stopped to catch his breath. “It is said that one can ask of anything from the Lord almighty if he succeeds to drink from the chalice and his wish shall be granted. But to get to the chalice is not easy....,” Tirius said, “It is said that magic guards the walls of the Castle of Light and Dark and to get past it is no feat for the faint of heart....,” The Castle of Light and Dark? She had never heard of it before. Was the faun lying? But what if it was the truth? Maybe it was her only chance to get her brother back. “How far is the castle from here?” “A day’s ride north,” Tirius replied, “...but my lady I must warn you, this may cost you your life...,” “If this is the way to bring my brother back, then I must do it....,” Charlotte spoke, “No matter what the cost....,” CHAPTER- VIII THE CASTLE OF LIGHT AND DARK Amongst the dense forest of larch and pine, Charlotte found the castle of Light and Dark. What she had presumed to be a magnificent stronghold was just a grey and ancient ruin, protected by the woods. She stood there with a hand on her aching bladder, her thighs pressed together. Studying the fortress and guessing what it held inside. The pressure inside her bladder had grown to the highest degree. The waterskin she had carried with her on the journey had been emptied and refilled over a dozen times since she had left Martha and her brother back at the camp yesterday and yet her bladder was unrelieved, still holding ten days worth of urine. But Queen Charlotte was confident. She knew her bladder would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. But what if it became her undoing inside the Castle of Light and Dark? “My Queen,” Tirius said, “I want you to think this through one last time...” “There is nothing to think about,” Charlotte spoke, her eyes stuck on the castle, “I have no other way,” she sighed. “It is said that many go into The Castle of Light and Dark, but few come out,” he told, “If you have decided to follow your heart, then take me inside with you. I’ve heard many tales of the place, maybe they will come of help.” “No,” she breathed, “Some places even the Queen must walk alone.” This frightened the faun, “My Queen, you must remember, the front way leads in, but never out again. Heed my words, The Castle of Light and Dark was not made for mortal men. If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you.” “I will do as you say,” Charlotte promised. “When you enter, you will find yourself in a room with four doors: the one you have come through and three others. Take the door to your left. Each time, the door to your left. If you should come upon a stairwell, climb. Never go down, and never take any door but the first door to your left.” “The door to my left,” Charlotte repeated. “I understand. And when I leave, the opposite?” “No,” Tirius said. “Leaving and coming, it is the same. Always up. Always the door to your left.” “I understand.” She sighed and as the Queen walked towards the huge wooden door, it opened itself to let her in. She turned to look at the faun for one last time and then entered the castle. The door slowly closed behind her back. She found herself in a stone anteroom with four doors, one on each wall. With some hesitation, she went to the door on her left and stepped through. The second room was a twin to the first. Again she turned to the left-hand door. When she pushed it open she faced yet another small antechamber with four doors. I am in the presence of sorcery. She felt shaken but never did she let her fear overcome her. She took the door to the left once more and found herself in a long hall. The long hall went on and on and on, with torches burning on the walls. She walked past more doors than she could count, closed doors and open ones, doors of wood and doors of iron, carved doors and plain ones, doors with pulls and doors with locks and doors with knockers. Finally a great pair of bronze doors appeared to her left, grander than the rest. They swung open as she neared, and as she entered it, Queen Charlotte saw the thing for which she was not prepared. A gigantic dragon, bound by chains lay before her, guarding the doors behind it. Even the darkness had not dimmed the beauty of its scales that shone a shade of dark green in the light that danced upon the torches. For a moment, it took her breath away. Dragon? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen one in her entire life and now, one was right before her! That’s an Asgarothian Ironbelly! She realized. She had read about dragons in the books kept in the capital’s great library and knew they had all died out centuries ago. It was a miracle to find one alive. Her amazement was short lived though as then the being sensed her. It turned its ugly head towards the Queen and roared with a noise that made the rocks tremble and then, it opened its mouth to spew a jet of fire that sent Charlotte running back. She held her bladder as she leaned back on the wall, her organ unprepared for this kind of rapid movement. The Queen went back in again, peeping at first. She could make that the creature was partially blind but only more savage for that. It looked at her fierce but then suddenly the dragon began to shift backward, as if it was scared of her. Charlotte couldn’t understand what was going on but she knew this was her only chance. The Queen slowly walked towards the wooden door behind the dragon and placed her hand on it. The door opened and she found herself in a room that was crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures— some with long spines, others with drooping wings — potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown. There at the end of the room, she saw the tabernacle. She hurried towards it and opened it to find a chalice full of red wine like the faun had told her. Charlotte raised it to her lips. The first sip tasted sour, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and blood. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the chalice was empty. She closed her eyes and prayed, “O’Lord almighty, creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you to show your mercy upon me and send my brother back to me....,” she couldn’t control her tears any longer. Then all of a sudden the ground beneath her started to shake and the pillars that held the roof started to crumble. Horror gripped Charlotte tighter than ever. “Oh no!” she wailed. Huge boulders fell down as the roof began to collapse. The castle was coming down. Maybe it was the effect of her drinking from the chalice, she did not know. All she knew was that she needed to escape or she’d be crushed to death. She rushed towards the door as fast her swollen bladder would allow. The bound dragon let out a roar but its posture still seemed submissive, as if it was afraid. Then something happened, something clicked inside her and inspiration or madness came to Charlotte. She rushed towards the dragon and climbed atop the creature, which strangely showed no resistance. “Go! Go! Go!” she commanded and go it went! Charlotte had to put all her strength into her pee hole to keep it shut but she had other things to worry about now. The cuffs broke open with loud bangs. The dragon’s scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel her. Then the creature became aware that it was unbound. With a roar it reared: Charlotte dug in her knees, clutching as tightly as she could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the pillars aside like skittles. Charlotte, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the castle continued to fall around her. By sheer force the dragon clawed and fought its way through, a massive rock hitting its head, though it wasn’t enough to stop it. Charlotte’s eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crashing of rocks and the dragon’s roars, she could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment. And then at last, as the result of the dragon’s brute strength, the remaining roof over its head fell apart. Finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell around itself, the dragon climbed atop the rubble of the falling castle with Charlotte still clinging to its back. And then after a bit of struggle, it launched itself into the sky. The Queen was crazed with fear. What if she fell off?! She looked down and saw the Castle of Light and Dark, only the way she had found it before. Unharmed, unbroken. CHAPTER – IX THE BATTLE FOR GODSWICK Swords grazed the flesh off men and horses alike. Screams and shrieks filled the cold air and rivulets of blood ran through the field of battle. Murder was never a sight so common. Lord Victor Atwell could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick. He saw Sir John impaled on a spear and watched Lord Borbon’s horse shatter a man’s ribs with a kick. A flight of arrows descended on them; where they came from he could not say, but they fell on Torrington and Dalton alike, rattling off armour or finding flesh. Lord Victor lifted his shield and hid beneath it. One by one, his men were falling. The chance of victory slipping from their hands. With Lord Walter dead, there was no chance of defeating Reynard Dalton on the field. He should have known that. Lord Victor saw his son take an arrow to his eye before he fell to the ground, dead. Men stepped on his corpse. He screamed with grief and pain, louder than he had ever screamed but the sounds of the battle muffled his voice. He ran and took the motionless body of his son in his hands and rested his head on his lap before he pulled the arrow out of his skull. Tears found their way to Victor’s blood soaked cheeks, his hands shivering and his lips trembling. His wails were loud, heavy with sorrow but unknown to the ones around him. Then he stood up, swaying his sword, in anger, in pain, in defeat. But all was lost. Someone struck him from behind and his body surrendered itself to the mud. He didn’t want to get back up. All was lost. But then he heard something that left him numb, “Lord Walter is here!” A huge roar of approval went up as men pointed their swords and spears towards the sky in joy! And then he saw him. Atop his white stallion, the Lord of Longford pierced through the enemy. He saw Lord Walter catch an arrow mid air just when it was about to core his eye. What a magnificent warrior! Walter Torrington tossed it aside and jumped off his horse, piercing his sword into an enemy as he landed. Victor could not believe his eyes. A night ago he had wept over his Lord’s corpse that lied cold in his coffin and now he stood before him. Just then the knight who had hit him came thundering down on Victor, swaying his axe. He hit Victor’s helm with the side of his weapon. His head exploded with pain, his skull suddenly heavier than a boulder. Victor’s sword fell. He clawed on the ground for anything he could get his hands on, but the knight hit the side of his axe on Victor’s face once more and he fell down again. He did not recall hitting the ground, but when he looked up there was only sky above him. He rolled onto his side and tried to find his feet, but pain shuddered through him and the world throbbed. The knight drew up above him. "Lord Victor," he boomed down. "You are mine. Do you yield?" Yes, he thought, but the word caught in his throat. He made a croaking sound and fought his way to his knees, fumbling for a weapon. His sword, his dirk, anything . . . "Do you yield?" The knight loomed overhead. He seemed immense. The axe in his hand a raw piece of steel. Victor's hands were numb, his vision blurred, his scabbard empty. "Yield or die," the knight declared. “Fuck you, pig,” Lord Atwell mouthed and in an instant his head was gone. Lord Walter stood on the other side of the field. The battle seemed to have moved beyond him. No one remained on his part of the field save a large number of corpses. Ravens were already circling and landing to feed. The sound of hooves coming up behind him made him whirl, and he saw King Reynard’s reserve come sweeping along. Walter watched as the remnants of his lines got shattered like glass beneath the hammer of the Dalton charge. He had lost the battle. Then the enemies turned towards him. His eyes met theirs’. Suddenly Lord Walter felt as if the world had stopped moving and then he heard the word, “Charge!” Thousands of mounted men were coming towards him. To kill him. To rip him apart. He readied himself, tightening the grip on his great sword. He could feel the earth shuddering beneath his feet, sweat running through his brow, eyes pierced at the sea of warriors that was charging towards him. This was it. He had failed his sister. He had failed his men. This was his end. He closed his eyes and remembered his father, his late mother and his sisters. But then, a sound of thunderous roar filled the skies. Every eye on the battle field looked up and there it was. A dragon. King Reynard watched open mouthed as the great being flapped its gigantic wings. And then he saw her. Sitting atop the dragon’s back. The Queen. In the blink of an eye the dragon came sweeping down to rain fire on his men. Shrieks of horror went up in the skies as an inferno engulfed them. Many ran to save their lives, many got cooked. The dry grasses and stands of wheat went up at once. The wind fanned the flames and blew the smoke into the face of the King. The scent of fire sent the horses into panic, and as the smoke thickened, horse and rider alike were blinded. Their ranks began to break as walls of fire rose on every side of them. The remaining of the Torrington men waited with their bows and spears and made short work of the burned and burning Dalton men who came staggering from the hellhole. More than twenty thousand men died in the flames and what remained of King Reynard’s men perished from swords and spears and arrows. The beaten King looked on as the battle slipped from his hands. All was lost. He began to flee but found someone standing before him. A ghost of his past. A man he had killed. “I hope you find peace in the afterlife,” Lord Walter said before putting his sword through Reynard’s belly. Blood sprouted from his mouth before he fell to the ground. Dead. The echoes of, “Long live the Queen!” and “Long may she reign!” filled the air. A smile ran across Walter’s face. The war was over. They had won. CHAPTER– X THE END The night that followed was that of celebration. Lord Walter held a small feast to mark their victory and everyone drank to the health of the Queen. Charlotte herself drank a large amount of beer on the insistence of the Lords and knights present, though she had not wanted to. She had not made water in days, and the last thing she wanted was more liquid getting pumped inside her tired bladder, but she very well could not refuse the men who had fought for her. As the night darkened and the Queen went to her bed, sleep evaded her. She was beginning to grow less and less confident in her ability to hold her piss and was clenching her muscles as tight as she could, her calmness slowly slipping away. The pressure was getting to her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her bladder filled considerably during the night and by the time it was morning, Queen Charlotte was feeling a fairly intense urge to piss. She knew there was no room left for her bladder to expand and she had little will power to continue her hold. But regardless, she got up and dressed herself. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode but the Queen withheld her pressure and waited calmly until it was time for her to leave for the capital. She was dying to get to the castle, rush to the privy and take the piss of her life. She just wanted to let it all out. Hold on, you can hold on, she told herself. Waves of urgency came upon her again and again as her bladder attempted to release its contents to save itself from bursting apart but the Queen held on, endlessly. Her composure unshaken. But inside her chest, her heart beat faster than ever, her head heavier than a boulder. She realized she wasn’t able to think straight, did she really needed to pee that much? It did not matter. She would hold it till she reached inside the walls of the King’s Fort. Inside her chamber. Inside her privy. Only then would she relieve herself. She thanked all the Lords for their support in the war and kissed her brother’s brow before climbing atop her horse, barely controlling her immense need to piss. They all waved at her, Walter, Gunther, Martha and the rest, and she waved back, and so did her son who rode right beside her. Surrounded by a dozen guards, they went on their way as the others looked on. As they rode on into the dusk, Charlotte found herself grabbing her crotch whenever she was sure no one was looking. She could not believe the pressure, it was more than she’d felt ever before. She had never wanted to wee this badly in all her life, yet she was determined not to let it show to the men who rode with her and especially not to her son. She reminded herself that she did not need to worry; her bladder was cast-iron, strong and unbreakable. But then why did she feel so worried? She realized she did not want to think about it. They’d get to the capital tomorrow anyway, until then she’d just not think about it. She just pressed her crotch on the saddle of her horse and rode on. After another hour of riding, they spotted a watchtower. It meant they were on the border of her father’s lands and the royal grounds started from here on out. As they got closer to the tower, Charlotte spotted three armoured men on horsebacks. One carrying a banner with the rampant Griffin of House Seymour on it, the sigil of her late husband’s house and now hers. The three men rode towards them, grasping swords and shields. “It’s an honour to have you here, my Queen and my Prince,” one of them said, “I would like to congratulate you on your victory.” “Many thanks to you, my friend,” Queen Charlotte said forcing a smile. Her bladder was absolutely bursting by this point, her desperation growing by the minute. She realized her hands were shaking. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she was growing restless and panic was starting to crawl up her chest. Was this because she had to urinate? No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t be. She was the Queen. She could hold on as long as she wanted to. Then why was she sweating? Why was she afraid of losing control? Why? Why? Then, it suddenly hit her, I cannot hold it. M-my bladder is going to explode! I have to piss....i-it’s going to come out! I need to find somewhere to go! I have to piss! Oh my god, I have to piss! Her body was trembling, but she couldn’t let it show to everyone. Hide it, hide it! She screamed within. Holding the reins tighter in her trembling hands. “My Queen, we’d be honoured to have you as our guest at the tower, to share our meat and mead and our roof for the night,” Oliver, one of the men said. Albert, the captain of the Queen’s escort replied, “I thank you for the offer, but we must continue on our way to the capital.” “Wait,” Charlotte said suddenly. “I think we will accept your offer of hospitality. I am sure my guards are hungry, and my back is sore from riding. If you could give me a private room with a bed in which I could rest till the morrow, I would be very grateful to you.” “My Queen,” Albert whispered quickly. “... the capital is just a few hours away, we’ll reach home if we cont--” “I have given my command,” Charlotte said sternly, although on the inside she was frantic. She’d already waited past the breaking point. She knew she didn’t have much time left. “We’ll rest here for the night,” she finished much more politely, turning back to Oliver. “Of course, my Queen,” Oliver said with a bow. “I thank you. With haste, then,” Charlotte said loudly over the whispered protests of her guards. She ignored them completely as she reined her horse to follow Oliver towards the tower. It was a short ride, and soon they were dismounting and making their way into the tower. Oh, she couldn’t wait to piss! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! She screamed internally at Oliver, who was leading them inside. Charlotte walked into the lobby, her bladder ready to crack, “My room?” she asked straight away. “My Queen, would you like some wine before your rest?” he asked. “N-no, not at all,” Charlotte held her brow, squeezing her thighs as tightly together as she could, “Just show me to my room, please....” “Of course,” Oliver replied. “If you would follow me.” Charlotte turned to step after him, and he led her to the base of the tower's staircase. She trembled at the thought of climbing up stairs when she was just moments away from losing complete control of her bladder. Nor did she have the energy neither the time to fight off her need anymore. Still, there was no escaping it. She lifted her right leg and took the first step of the tall tower, then another with her left. Every time she raised a leg, her thigh pressed into the bottom of her bladder, causing it to send out a pulse of pain and pressure that rippled through her body. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, and she pressed her thighs together, her hands gripped in tight fists, nails digging into her pale skin. Charlotte gasped in pain, audibly but quietly, and her bladder throbbed strongly. Then, suddenly, without her consent, her pole opened for a full second and a long, hot leak escaped into her smallclothes. She froze in panic and quickly stood straight, clenching her muscles, stopping herself from wetting her dress any further. Looking down in horror and shame, she saw the wet spot on her dress, now dark green from the sudden spurt of her warm urine. Fuck, this is so embarrassing! Despite her humiliation, she continued to climb the stairs, grabbing her crotch as tightly as she could. Finally she came to a thick wooden door at the fifth floor, and she grasped the handle, stumbled inside and yelled, “Thank you so much!” to Oliver before banging the door shut at his face! She dashed straight towards the window, lifting up her dress and tearing down her small clothes as she did so. Stricken with panic, she threw her bottom over the edge of the window and at that very moment, the flood inside her erupted completely. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooohhhhhhhh mmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy ggggoooooddddd!!!” Queen Charlotte threw her head up as her eyes closed themselves tight with the immense relief that flowed through her exhausted body. Her toes curled in response of the enormous release. So much pressure... for so long... “Oooooohhhh tthhhaaannnnkkk ggggoooddd!!!” she groaned, the relief rendering her unable to open her eyes. Her whole body shivered with respite as the endless flow of piss streamed out of her. Her brain felt numb. It felt so good to finally release it! Her bladder was stretched to the bursting point. How she had managed to hold it this long she’d never know. She could feel the stream carry her stress out with it. Oh, how long had she waited for this! This glorious feeling of relief. Another heartfelt groan of relief escaped her throat as she let out her long held waters. Oh, how much her bladder had ached! The feeling of bliss as she finally felt her organ shrink was beyond what words could describe, it was pure ecstasy. The tower had come as a blessing in her time of desperate need. There was no way she could have held it all the way to the capital with her bladder that full. But now it was over. She did not have to worry anymore. She was saved. “Phew!” she breathed as she felt the heavy stream run out of her, I really needed that. The relief was so overpowering that she felt light headed. It felt so good! But this private moment of her release was interrupted when a fat man suddenly burst into her room! “My Queen!” the man said with a big smile on his face, “Am I disturbing you?” Charlotte’s eyes widened in shock and humiliation and with the fear of being found out! She didn’t know what to do or what to say! She froze where she was, not moving an inch as her piss continued to flow out of her. “Oh, Your Highness! You mustn’t sit on the window like that!” he yelped, “You might fall off!” The man she recalled as Lord Peter Walden. Many years ago she had granted him the custody of this watchtower for his dedicated service to the throne. Now he was standing before her, about to find out that she was weeing out of the window of his tower. Get lost! Get out, you idiot! She screamed within. “M-my Lord, I-I assure you that I’m safe,” she said, trying her best to cut off her flow but her sphincters were too worn out, “T-to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” “I am most grateful to you my Queen for the generosity you’ve shown us by being our guest for the night,” he said, “I hope you find your stay comfortable.” Yes! Please get out of the room! Get out! Now! “T-thank you, M’lord, that is so kind of you,” she forced a smile that told she wanted to kill him, “Is that all? You may leave now.” She was trying her best to stop the flood that was pouring out of her, all while keeping a straight face but it was out of her control now. There was no stopping it. “Oh, my Queen, I must say we’ve never had a ruler more generous and kind than Your Highness,” he went to sit on her bed, much to Charlotte’s horror, “My Queen is the fairest of all!” he laughed. Queen Charlotte felt like she’d rip him apart, but she was stuck on the window, her river of wee going on and on and on. Then finally he stood up, “Well, my Queen, I beg for your leave now. I’d look forward to seeing you at the feast,” he bowed and left with a smile, closing the door behind him. Charlotte let out a breath of relief. Lord Peter was an old man. She hoped he wouldn’t have noticed what she was doing. Her piss continued unabated for a few more minutes before she found the strength to cut off the flow and quickly climb off the window. She had botched her family name and her title of the Queen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She still had to pee a lot but her bladder was now empty more than half, which meant she had let the pressure off enough to be able to ride home. She looked out of the window as she adjusted her smallclothes and found that the wall was drenched and at the ground a massive puddle sat as if made by an elephant. A small pond of warm piss. I shouldn’t have relieved myself like that. She felt a sense of guilt overcome her but she tried to suppress it. She quickly adjusted back her dress and went down for the feast. That whole night, the Queen didn’t even look at Lord Peter out of embarrassment, but the old man seemed normal to her, as if nothing had happened. Maybe he had not found out what she was doing back in the room. She thanked the God and participated in the feast with utmost graciousness. During the entire feast, Charlotte didn’t take any wine or beer but only stuck to timely sips of water. Her bladder was completely exhausted and the last thing she wanted was more liquid making its way into it. They left for the capital early on the morrow and after a few hours ride, they saw the massive walls of Godswick at a distance. People praised her name as she rode through the city streets and children ran behind her contingent. But Charlotte cared for none of it. Her desperation had grown since they had left the tower and the Queen once again found herself on the edge of losing control. She had to get to the castle, and fast. She found a small welcoming party along with the members of the royal council waiting for her at the foot of the King’s Fort, but she dismounted and walked past them, steeling herself from grabbing her crotch in full view of her people and leaving her son behind in her frantic run to reach the privy. My room. The privy. Have to go so badly, it all took over her mind as she stepped into the great hall of her castle, ignoring the guards. She slowly climbed the stairs that led to her chamber, stopping her piss at the gates. Her breathing was heavy and her bladder completely exhausted. Hurry, hurry, hurry! She told herself. It’s going to come out! She grabbed her crotch as tightly as she could. She would never know how she had managed to put off her need to wee for so long. Somehow she reached the top of the stairs, and she turned towards her chamber. Squeezing her crotch with her trembling hand as she held her breath tight. She screamed out loud as her bladder pulsated madly within her. She needed to piss so badly! And the pressure was increasing rapidly. Her pee was just a hair breadth away from completely pouring out of her and her chamber still seemed so far. Then suddenly a long jet of her hot wee escaped out of her and she stopped in her track, her eyes widened in fear. There was nothing more she could do. I got so close...just a few more- There was no stopping it anymore. Her piss exploded in a thick stream as relief washed over her body. The Queen was wetting herself. She tried her hardest to stop the flow but failed. She looked on in disbelief at the puddle of hot piss as it grew beneath her, her eyes still wide with fear and humiliation. “Stop! Please stop!” she sighed her hands holding her face on the sides. Her body was beaten. It could have not taken the pressure any more. My God, why did you let this happen to me?! Shame crawled up her skin. What if someone saw her like this? Wetting herself in the hallway. She could not let that happen. No. She’d be humiliated for the rest of her life. She needed to move from here, but her body was frozen. She could not move. Her legs trembling as the amazing relief flowed through her. “My Queen?” Charlotte’s heart practically stopped. She looked up, eyes wide. Her handmaidens Lucille and Mary stood before her, looking on with disbelief. The Queen was wetting herself. This was a sight they shouldn’t have witnessed. The Queen’s embarrassment flowed from under her dress like a river, soaking into the carpet and spreading out in every direction. Her body was fatigued and she was completely defeated, humiliated in front of her servants, everything she thought of herself as a Queen flowing out of her, dampening the bottom of her skirt. It just went on and on, a seemingly endless stream of hot piss that nearly reached Lucille and Mary who were standing several meters away. Despite the absorption of the carpet, the puddle reached the ledge of the second floor of the entrance hall and fell to the marble below. Charlotte could hear it splattering against stone even at this distance, and she knew there was absolutely no hiding such an accident. Even if she banished Lucille and Mary from the Capital, people would come into the hall at some point and see the mess coming from her wing of the castle. I'm going to have to run. Just shift to some other country and make a living as a cook. What if Iwan finds out about this? Oh, no! Not him! It was several minutes before her waterfall fell silent. Her puddle was almost ten feet in span and the only sound that could be heard was of her pee falling to the floor below. Her two servants still stood by, watching her in disbelief. She wished they would look away, but it made no difference now. Her body and mind fatigued, she looked at the two young girls. “So, what is going to happen now?” Charlotte asked them, a semblance of hurt and humiliation in her voice. “Are you going to run and tell everyone what I have done here? This is a good chance for you to have your vengeance for how poorly I’ve treated you all, isn’t it?” The two of them looked between Charlotte and her colossal puddle. They knew if the word of this got out, the Queen would have to face an embarrassment like no other. Mustering her voice, Mary spoke first. “It was me who did this. I lost control of my waters. Please, forgive me.” Charlotte sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time in what felt like days. “Oh, my sweet girl, that is so kind of you....,” she breathed. “However, nobody will believe that a tiny one like you could hold this much piss. I fear there is no possible way for me out of this.” “I couldn't hold it either,” Lucille said suddenly, “We were so occupied in preparing for your welcome since morning, that we didn’t get a chance to use the chamberpot. We beg for your pardon, Your Highness...,” At this very moment, Charlotte loved these girls like they were her own daughters. “You would take the blame for this, after how I have abused you over the years?” “We owe you everything we have, my Queen,” Lucille said, “We were born to serve you.” “I will never forget this,” Charlotte said, “You two will be rewarded with whatever you want for this.” “Please, my Queen,” Lucille said. “Just see yourself to your chamber to wash.” Charlotte nodded, her heart full of gratitude, before she rushed towards her chamber. The End
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  6. Mara Jeez, where is she? She's really late... It was past 12:30, and they were supposed to meet up at 12. If she'd known she would turn up this late, she wouldn't have rushed out in such a hurry this morning. She'd managed to leave her jacket, backpack and wallet behind in the scurry- not to mention her keys. In other words, She was locked out of her apartment. Again; for the third time this week. Honestly, she couldn't even argue when her friends called her the ditz friend anymore. Things like these were rather regular occurances, but her friends were of the reliable kind to make up for it, usually. Charlie was one of said reliable friends. Never ever had Mara experienced that she showed up more than 10 minutes late, and she really and wasn't the kindto show up late without giving a heads up. Today? Not a peep. It was 30 minutes past their rendevouz time, and she was yet to show up. Incredibly inconvenient, in this case. It was the first hot day of the summer, and she practically dove out of her bed this morning. The heat, exertion and time had left her really, really thirsty. Plus, she kinda really needed to pee. She felt a shudder ride up her back. That's it, holding was starting to take a lot more effort than she'd usually let it.... ACTION [?] PROFILE HOW TO PLAY
    2 points
  7. Version 1.0.0

    4,720 downloads

    Than name should give it away. These are older clips that I've been inexplicably holding on to for a while, I hope you all enjoy them. Rach
    Free
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  8. Check out what Kotex is marketing in Singapore. Don't get too excited though, they're 100% for menstruation only. They're just real absorbent *winks coyly while holding a glass of water for no reason*
    2 points
  9. When I finished uni I managed to get myself a job just outside of London, and after looking online at some places to rent I decided to save money by renting a room in a shared house. I found a room that looked OK and was close to the office, and spoke to the landlady on the phone. She was very friendly, and we arranged a date for me to travel down and meet her and view the room. On the day of the viewing, I took the train to London, then took a tube to another London station (Waterloo) and then finally a suburban train to the town, where the landlady had offered to pick me up in her car and drive me to the house. By the time I got to London Waterloo after my long journey by train and then by tube, I was badly needing a pee. I'd had a big cup of tea that morning along with a couple of bottles of water during the journey, and had not been to the loo since leaving my flat. However, my next train was due to leave in just a few minutes, and I didn't have enough time to find the toilets. I decided that I'd just have to use the toilets on the train, but unfortunately for me, there weren't any! I just had to hold on, fidgeting in my seat. After a frustratingly long journey to the station, we finally arrived and I looked anxiously for the toilets, only to find the station toilets closed with a big 'Out of Order' sign posted on the door. I was getting really desperate now, and was considering trying to find somewhere discreet to have a quick pee when the landlady called me to say that she was waiting in the car park. Not wanting to delay her, I went to meet her and tried to ignore my very full bladder. She was an attractive curvy blonde lady in her early 40s, and very friendly and chatty so there wasn't any awkwardness. On the short car journey to the house, I really wanted to ask her if I could use the toilet as soon as we got there, but out of shyness I just couldn't bring myself to ask, and I tried to keep my fidgeting to a minimum. When we got to the house I took my shoes off and she showed me the room, then took me round the living room and kitchen, and the whole time I was trying to pay attention and not let on that I was absolutely bursting to go to the toilet. I kept trying to find a good opportunity to ask if I could use the loo but I was too shy! I thought she would then show me the bathroom, which I decided would be a good time to finally bite the bullet and ask permission to use it, but instead we stayed in the kitchen and she made us both a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled, we stood chatting and I couldn't help but fidget around from foot to foot, sometimes crossing my legs, and I'm sure she must have noticed but she didn't mention it or ask me why I was so fidgety! We went to sit in the living room and drank our tea, chatting some more, and I was finding it harder and harder to sit still and not squirm around on the chair as my bladder demanded relief. Luckily she could not see me bouncing my legs under the table! Eventually, we finished our tea and she offered to drop me back at the station. I was really, really bursting for a pee by this point and could hardly stand still. She then showed me the bathroom, much to my relief, as this was an ideal time to ask to pop in and use it quickly before I left. However, she was clearly very proud of her very large, newly tiled bathroom, as she took me inside and spent ages talking about it, and explained in great detail about the expensive shower with the large square shower head, and how nice it was to stand under there as the water poured out. I was literally standing right next to the toilet, stepping from foot to foot, absolutely longing and desperate to relieve myself, having to listen to her talk for ages about rain and splashing water. It was almost too much for me, and I was so close to interrupting her and asking to use the loo, but I just about managed to hang on until she finished speaking. She asked me if there was anything else I wanted to ask and I thanked her and said no, that was everything. I started to blush. It was now or never, I was going to have to ask. 'Actually...' I said, crossing my legs, 'May I use the toilet quickly? The ones at the station are closed.' I jiggled a bit on the spot and she laughed and glanced down at my legs for a second. 'Yes of course you may! I'll wait by the front door for you.' I thanked her and she left, closing the bathroom door behind her. Immediately, I turned around and unbuckled my belt, hopping up and down on the spot as I frantically undid my fly and pulled out my cock, leaking a few drops of pee into my boxers. As soon as I took aim at the toilet bowl I immediately let loose a long, gushing stream of pee, splashing loudly into the water below, and I groaned with relief as I was finally able to empty my aching bladder after waiting for hours. After pissing for close to a minute, I gave a big sigh of relief, and washed my hands before exiting the bathroom and walking down the hall to where the landlady was waiting. I'm pretty sure she must have heard me peeing as she smiled at me and asked if I felt better, and my face blushed bright red with embarrassment!
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  10. She's known as "Mylene". Here's another one video with her (includes nudity and fisting after 4:30) : Light blue jeans pissing & anal fisting.mp4 Screenshot:
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  11. not doing very well. the pull-up can't hold anymore from how much I've leaked and my bladder still hurts it's so full
    2 points
  12. Pee drama

    "Oh god I hate math". Sixteen year-old Alexis Canaan thought to herself as she struggled with yet another question on her Geometry test. She continued to attempt to write away with her pencil as she desperately tried to work. She had never viewed herself as stupid, but she also never viewed herself as smart. Due to her mix of decent intelligence and decent looks, she was neither part of the cool clique or the nerds of the school. She had a group who remained roughly in the middle, away from the drama of the populars and the bullying of the nerds. She twirled her curly light brown hair on her finger as she attempted to find the angles of a triangle. Her struggle was interrupted as she noticed someone with an even worse predicament. Samantha Parker, the head of the "cool clique" and the most popular girl in the grade was wiggling in her seat and tightly gripping her crotch in her skirt, showing she was horribly desperate to pee. Unlike Alexis, Sam was not even remotely intelligent and was probably doing far worse than Alexis. Mr. Crofft refused to allow anyone to use the restroom during his class, and everyone knew much better than to ask, let alone during a test. "Oh no." Alexis thought to herself. Watching Sam bust made her start to feel a sensation in her own bladder. "No, no, no" She immediately began to regret watching Sam's desperation as she soon was developing desperation of her own. She slid a hand to her crotch and unzipped her jeans. "Shit, shit!" She heard Sam loudly whispering to herself across the room. "That's basically the same thing I'm thinking right now" Alexis decided to put her full effort back into her test to distract herself from the growing need down below. She managed to struggle her way to the end of the test with ten minutes still left in class, leaving herself to try and hold for ten minutes straight. She tried to restrain from wiggling or crying out because she attempted to hold a good image in the school. Sam on the other hand, could care less if people saw her holding as she viewed herself as better than all them anyway. Finally the bell rang and the two bursting girls both sprang up and left the classroom. The heels of Alexis's red ankle boots clacked on the floor as she marched her way to the bathroom. Not surprisingly, Sam had run off to make a bigger deal of her predicament and laugh about it with her friends. "At least I get to pee." Alexis joked to herself abut her lack of competition. However, upon arrival to the bathroom she realized she was exactly wrong. Every stall was filled and she was left tapping her feet for an agonizing two minutes. As pee pressed on her urethra, she could failure approaching. "Oh god please no" There would most certainly be no returning from the humiliation of having towalk around in wet blue jeans, and she was determined to avoid that. A flush finally came from the furthest stall and Alexis finally breathed a sigh as relief as the girl exited. However, the bathroom door opened right as Alexis was about to close the stall door and Sam came bursting in. "Canaan stop Im leaking!" "I really have to pee too Sam.. I.. I.." She attempted to stall, but she knew better than to mess with the self-proclaimed queen of the Tenth grade. "I don't care Canaan, so let me go or ahhh!" Sam leaking into her panties and skirt. "Get the fuck out of my way bitch!" Alexis ran the stall and let Sam through, who dribbling constantly in her underwear as she closed the stall door. "I'm not gonna have time to pee." She looked down at her phone to see only one minute remained until class. "Time to go learn about dead people" Alexis barely made it too history class before the bell rang, ready to go with a long forty-five minute class and a full bladder. She could take some comfort in knowing she had lunch after that class meaning plenty of time to pee, the only issue was making it too class. She hadn't leaked yet but she was trying not to jinx herself. "Please pass this paper back when you get it, this paper will outline this whole chapter so don't lose it please." Mrs. Carson spoke in her usual monotone voice. Alexis received the paper from the girl in front of her and took her own copy of "Chapter 9: The Russian Revolution full outline" Her overflowing bladder spasmed and forced her hands straight to her crotch. "People have to be looking at me for sure." Alexis had no choice but to begin full on pee dancing in her seat. The class dragged on and her body begged for mercy. She looked at the clock, the minute seemed to not even be moving. When there was only ten minutes left, Alexis removed her hands from her crotch for a few seconds to push her hair off her face, and almost instantly a small amount of pee escaped her urethra and soaked into her panties. "Oh my gawd, oh my gawd" She said in a very quiet voice, catching the attention of a few people around her. She could feel her end coming, pee was flowing out, she closed her eyes and started to pee but was interrupted by the bell ringing. She cupped her hands to her crotch and cut it off. Her panties were soaked and she had a small wet spot the size of a penny. She quickly grabbed her things and headed out of the classroom. To her luck, the girls bathroom for the floor she was on was locked, and she would be forced to wait until she got up the stairs to finally relieve herself. Every step she took was pure agony as she barely managed her way upstairs. She was ready to storm in and pee at least but the bathroom upstairs was the same as before, Locked shut. "I can't believe I'm actually gonna pee my pants" She thought to herself as she pee danced in place in front of the bathroom door. At last she decided to go to the lunchroom and take her chances. In the lunchroom she heard a few girls complaining about the locked bathrooms. "Yeah you sure got it bad" The girl thought to herself. She sat down at her table, her friends blabbing on about something she didn't care about. "If anyone wants to go outside you better go now cause there is limited seats at the outdoor tables!" Boomed the principal as she opened the door from the cafeteria. "Outside... that's it" She grabbed her bag and began to walk alongside the people outside. "Where are you going?" "To take care of business" Her business, specifically. She got outside and she headed around the corner to the back of the school. She was right under the security camera in its blind spot, and was basically ready to burst. She ripped and her jeans and at last let loose. "Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh" She moaned under the relief. After almost two minutes straight of peeing, she could barely stand up as she shook with relief. "Finally" "Damnit!" Samantha Parker watched the girl she had dubbed "the bitch that made me wet my panties" come around the corner from the cool clique table outside. She had gotten her friends to lock the bathroom in hopes of making Alexis pee her pants. "This isn't over Canaan..." She said to herself. "This isn't over..."
    2 points
  13. I'm going to start taking fanfiction commissions, much like The Comedian does! Here is a link to a masterpost of what I will and won't do, if anyone is interested! https://birdschach.tumblr.com/post/160784554003/my-commission-masterpost
    1 point
  14. Version 1.0.0

    1,364 downloads

    Wetting her tight sweatpants.
    Free
    1 point
  15. I APOLOGIZE THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG AND ITS PROBABLY REALLY STUPID SO I'M SORRY AHEAD OF TIME. THIS CONTAINS A LOT OF PITY TYPING AND SELF REFLECTION THAT PROBABLY NOBODY WILL READ AND I JUST WANTED TO GET IT OFF MY CHEST I GUESS. Like seriously you really don't know how sorry I am for even posting this because I feel like its just garbage spewing out of my mind and onto my keyboard. So, since I'm in a pretty stable mood today, I felt like I should finally like....get this out here. Now I sort of alluded to this not too long ago in the love/hate omo thread and I didn't want to derail it but I sort of made a few comments about how I felt personally and I just kind of want to expand on it. On top of that I guess I want to sort of give some background to myself and my goings ons with my life. Part of this is because I just don't have anyone to talk to, the other part is because I figure you guys actually might be more understanding anyhow. But its getting to the point where I need to I guess vent? Or just hope that someone will listen because it just bothers me to not think about it or talk about it or anything. Like this is going to probably be TMI and really just a bunch of nonsense but I'd rather this then just keep it all bottled up anymore I guess. But anyways, I talked about how I sort of viewed the "love/hate" for omo in a different light than what was being discussed and made mention of how at times it gets the point where I hate everything because I feel like I hate myself more anything. Its sort of a vague and I guess I'll start by sort of discussing this point. Some people thought I meant I just hate omo, but it boils down to all my hobbies when I get like this. Like when I think about omo and some of the stuff that I like I sort of stop sometimes and just think....."How fucked up am I?" Like overall I feel like a lot of my interests are trash. I'm a semi-competitive (I only say semi because I've got like 10 years on these kids now a days) DDR player, I mess around with working on cars that I own, I still collect (and sort of play with) toys and stuff. I play video games still and do really childish things I guess. Like I just feel like most of this is pretty stupid and childish. Every once in a while I still act like a brat and give my coworkers grief while I'm off the clock doing SUPER immature things that are basically things a kid would be doing to annoy an adult. I think my friends think I'm just being an asshole but honestly for me its almost like "playing" for me. Its not often I do it but I do. I guess in a sense I feel like a lot of those hobbies are something a kid would have, not an adult. The only sort of "viable" hobby is probably working on cars. And the platform I work on is obsolete as shit and honestly probably isn't even worth wrenching on but I do it anyway because I've grown to appreciate that platform (Crown Vic, I own a couple of ex-Police cruisers that I never shut up about). But there are days where I get washed over with this feeling of worthlessness and all of my hobbies/interests are suddenly considered garbage. And sometimes the strongest feeling of hate would go to omo, because I mean its probably just the black sheep. Its not normal I guess. So it being something so out of the norm makes me hate myself even more at times I guess. But let me touch on this too, as I typed earlier I said I'm in a "stable" mood. The other problem is I'm diagnosed bipolar, also depression....probably a couple of other undiagnosed things as well. I know I also have some sort of anxiety when it comes to masses of people that can appear out of nowhere. In which I'll just sort of shut down and become a very shy introverted person when there's too many people around me. Doesn't always happen but still. I have good days and I have days where I spend my day trying to come up with a good way to kill myself. My personality is usually pretty outgoing and I actually try to make people laugh and have a good time so I guess they don't worry about me but I dunno if it actually works. Now I say usually because there are times where I'm very opposite and sort of shy/nervous wreck type as well. It comes and goes I guess but it can really fuck with me. I'd like to think my job doesn't contribute any negativity but my job can be uh stressful for a person who doesn't have a bunch of issues so y'know....stressful job too. But I guess the only reason I brought this up is because this will sometimes control the way I feel about myself at times. So with that in mind I'm not sure why I have such a self-hatred of myself. Maybe I had a crappy childhood? I'm not 100% sure. My dad wailed on me (beat me) pretty good when I was younger and it really didn't teach me "respect your elders" or anything as much as it taught me to hate people who treat you like this. I learned a lot of my "respect your elders" from my grandparents who I loved very much. Both were in the military and I feel like they had a pretty good hand in forming my moral compass. (Of course as you grow your moral compass becomes a bit corrupted but I digress). As a matter of fact it taught me to become defensive towards persons of authority only because I felt like this was the "normal" thing they'd do to you. I actually had lashed out at a teacher one time because of this upbringing I believe...My mother really didn't do anything without subconsciously getting approval from my father, or at least looking back at it that's how I feel. I sort of feel like my parents "loved" me when it was convenient for them. And its probably a terrible thing to say but I feel that it was solidified for me when my sister arrived. We're only 3 years apart but when we were younger I worked really hard to impress my parents in school. Up until Jr. High they acknowledged it too. But my sister sort of became the big deal when she got into GATE learning faster than I did and so on and so forth. Once I hit Jr. High I feel like it started to go downhill for me and my sister became the focus point. She was good at sports, did well in school, etc etc. Meanwhile I tried to keep up but I wasn't really acknowledged like she was. It was like my parents heard she'd do well in school and a lot of focus was put on her because she showed promise where I guess I didn't. Still to this day I feel like this theory holds true as my mother considers my sister to do no wrong even though she had two kids before she was married (which is actually like, a big thing in my family) and fucked up hard a few times in school (like if I were to fuck up that hard I would've been disowned). Meanwhile I just went out into the world to do what I could with what I knew. But to get back to the point, my mother sort of placed me second, or I guess my father did? I'm not 100% sure. Once I hit my teen years my dad tried to I think reconcile things by showing interest in things I liked but I was still 2nd in line when it came to things. But I feel that I may have been onto something here as friends of mine who have seen my family in action have commented to me asking me if I've always been treated this way. And sadly I have to say yes, I was. I mean I'm not going to go into the materialistic side of things (because I don't think we were a rich family to start with), but in terms of treatment, I guess I got the short straw. Does this factor into how I am now? Maybe. Not sure. But yeah, you'd think this would be enough but as I browsed omo.org I came across other interests that intertwined with my love for omo. Lately Furry things have been sort of in focus for me. Which is hard for me because I'm not sure how to I guess....accept it? Like I'm not even sure how to put this into writing to be honest. Like personally I feel we're animalistic by nature but society and the sort of unspoken word to be "civil" really locks away these traits. But I think about it from time to time that in a sense we're denying these sort of baser animal emotions in light of we don't want to be viewed as "lesser" people by others. People are always judging (at least I think so, I'm sure there's going to be plenty of people that sort of silently judge this pile of garbage that I've written). But those are just thoughts I guess and personal theories. Nothing too concrete. Anyhow I can't really figure how to accept this. This legit probably started when I was younger too as I often considered myself more of an animal than a person when I was in elementary school, heh. But its honestly really obnoxious because I have "those friends" who hate on EVERYTHING and have made public comments about their disdain things, so I dare not even bring this stuff up in front of them. Or my family for pretty much similar reasons. I will say, reading through that Shine comic that Kirito posted sort of lifted my spirits. Or at least made me stop and think "this is the same BS that's run through my head about omo or some other hobby that I'm into." I guess I can identify with it a bit. Bleh, sorry, this was an extremely long post and if you actually read all the way through it I want to say thank you. If you actually have any advice or questions or anything, I'll totally answer back in the discussion that occurs below this.
    1 point
  16. I'm so excited to have this story to tell, especially because it was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity and because he was so embarrassed that he made me swear we'd never talk about it again. I was nervous about posting my first story a few days ago, mostly because I sometimes drag things out and use too much description by accident (I'm a writer, it's a problem), but it seemed to go over well so I figured I'd write about the other experience I had. I know this sounds like a poorly-written fanfic and even though he'll never admit it, yes it actually happened. Anyways, I started dating my boyfriend Alex about three months ago. We're both 23, he works with me (which is where we met) and he's absolutely perfect. Lean body, long brown hair, those perfect green eyes; okay now I'm just gushing. This happened about a month ago, two months into us dating and about six months after we met for the first time. It was an unseasonably warm day in April, and we both had off work that day and the day after. At work the night before, we joked about getting in the car early in the morning and just driving down to the beach for the night. What started out as a joke quickly turned into a good idea, just a fun little vacation away from all of the stress that work was causing, so we just decided to go with the flow. He agreed to pick me up at six the next morning, it was about a four hour drive from where we are and we would get there around early afternoon. I was excited when I got into his car at almost exactly six, just like we planned. I had a whole two days with him to look forward to, and everything going wrong in life was temporarily fading out of my mind. We started driving and quickly jumped the highway as he sipped on his large coffee, something I've never seen him drink before. "You tired?", I asked him. "You never drink coffee." "Way tired, I couldn't sleep but I figured this would give me some quick energy if anything." He finished almost the whole coffee in the next twenty minutes as we continued down the highway, more than excited to get to the beach. About an hour into the trip, I noticed his leg bouncing up and down slightly as we sat at a red light. Obviously me, being who I am, wondered to myself if he had to pee from all of the coffee he's not used to to having. He's always been shy when it comes to things like using the bathroom, and I wondered if he'd come clean and admit it or wait until I asked him to stop somewhere (he knows I have a small bladder, so I'm sure he figured I would.) Things were kind of quiet at this point as we continued to drive, and I tried not to make it seem like I was staring as he squirmed in his seat every so often. We were about to pass an exit and he slowed down a little and looked at me. "Do you need to stop or anything before we get on the interstate? Traffic's usually backed up here around this time because of the morning rush." Normally I would have said yes just for the chance to empty my bladder, but I secretly wanted to see what he'd do if I said no, so I shook my head. I noticed him grimace a little and drive past the exit and onto the interstate, obviously not wanting to lose pride by being the one who needed to stop. Of course he was right about the interstate, the traffic was ridiculous around eight o clock there, or just so in general. It seemed like we were doing a lot of just sitting, stuck between cars and time was going by so slowly. It had been about an hour and forty minutes by now and I had to pee just a little bit, certain I could hold it for a couple more hours or probably even until we got there. I glanced back over at Alex, who had one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other close to his crotch. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he shifted in his seat a little before squeezing himself with his hand, then quickly turning to look at me to make sure I wasn't paying attention. I could feel myself become more aroused by the situation, never thinking I'd get the opportunity to see him desperate. "You good? You seem a little tense.", I asked him kind of coyly. He immediately tensed and stayed still, making his hand into a fist and lying it back on his lap repetitively. The traffic was moving so slow that it was frustrating me, and I wasn't even the one driving. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache." Perfect. I pulled out two Tylenol and a full bottle of water from my purse, excited for this opportunity now, too. "Here, take these. They'll help. And drink as much of the water as you can, you're not used that much caffeine, it dehydrates you." I half expected him to crack but he didn't, taking the pills from my hand and downing them with about half of the bottle of water. "You should finish that, you need to stay hydrated.", I insisted. "No, I'm alright, I'm sure this'll help, thank you though." At this point in our slow moving traffic, I noticed the stretch in front of us had one closed lane which was causing the extra slowness. Alex groaned under his breath as he noticed the scene and I felt the arousal increase inside of me, hoping I'd actually have the chance to see him have an accident. We were at a complete stop again as I heard him take in a short breath. The part of me that felt bad for him in this predicament was silenced by my curiosity and want to push him over the edge. "Headache that bad?", I asked him, not wanting to let in on the fact that I knew he was lying. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and shook his head yes, looking for another cause to blame. "Here, I know something that'll help." I leaned over as far as I could with my seatbelt on and started massaging his shoulders and neck, feeling the tension beaming off of him. "You're so tense, I can't help when your muscles are so tight. Just take a deep breath and let your whole body relax, okay? Just relax." I could see his desperate attempt to not move under my touch, but it was quickly thwarted when I'm guessing another wave of desperation hit him, causing his knee to bounce quickly and his hand to fly back to his crotch and squeeze. "You're not relaxed.", I said playfully. I could see him squeezing himself every three to four seconds now and knew it wouldn't be long before he couldn't hold it anymore. "I...I can't.", he said in a flat tone. "Why not? Is your head still bothering you?" "No, I just uh, kinda have to pee." he finally admitted, now letting himself squirm a little more openly. "Oh, okay, I have to go a little bit too. We can stop at the next stop if you want, I think it'll only be another twenty minutes or so in this mess." He groaned again a little louder, his hand now not moving it's spot as he kept a tight grip on himself. "No, I need to go like, right now, I didn't expect all of this traffic." I could see his face turn red with embarrassment and didn't know what to do. I thought about telling him to try using the bottle or his empty coffee cup, but instead just looked down at his trembling thighs. "Here, I'll help.", I said as my fingers went towards his leg. He was almost shaking now, and I knew that even if we did get somewhere soon he probably wouldn't be able to hold it until he got inside. "Don't. I can't move my hand.", he moaned. He didn't look at me during any of this, and I tried to act like it was no big deal to me. I ignored him and quickly replaced his hand with mine, hearing him whimper and seeing the tiniest spot between my fingers on his jeans a moment later. I knew how bad he had to go, but seeing him leak even the tiniest amount was still shocking to me, it was so unreal that one my fantasies was coming true right before my eyes. I continued squeezing his dick and feeling it throb under my touch as I tried to convince him to relax a little, secretly hoping he'd soon just let go. "Just try to relax the rest of your body, okay? It's worse if you tense up everywhere the way you are." He didn't say anything and it was clear he didn't listen to my advice, still overcome and blinded by need. He had both hands on the wheel now, tapping his hand forcefully as I continued to keep my grip on him, wanting so desperately to let go on purpose and watch him leak. Eight minutes went by and he was somehow still holding it all in as I felt another small warm sensation underneath my fingers, followed by a second, slightly longer one. He was losing control and I could barely stand to watch without wanting to climb on top of him. I acted sympathetic and didn't say much as he tried to focus on driving and holding back his overly-full bladder. Traffic sped up a little faster than expected for the one lane situation, and we managed to pull into a local fast food joint. His pants were mostly dry besides a small round spot around my hand, and I moaned quietly at the thought of how terribly full his bladder must have felt. He parked the car and I finally had the courage to let go of the hold I had on his dick, and within a second he was already peeing. I watched as a stream made it's way across his thigh for a few seconds before he clamped down, frantically dancing in his seat. "Mackenna, I told you not to let go.", he said flatly. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me or just full of embarrassment of the situation, but I apologized anyways, merely saying I forgot. "Fuck.", he groaned, and I watched as the spot on his jeans slowly grew a little wider every few seconds. Not wanting to see him completely ruin his upholstery, i quickly took the lid off of his coffee cup and passed it to him. "Here, this is empty, just pee in that until your bladder is empty enough to get out." He still didn't look at me as he took it out of my hand, probably unsure of how he was going to get his pants out of the way before releasing his bladder. He fidgeted and squirmed, trying to adjust himself for a few more seconds before I watched him hold the empty coffee cup up between his legs, his pants still on. I immediately heard the sound of water hitting the plastic surface as he tried his best to aim into the cup while peeing through his pants. He let out a long sigh and continued going, half of his pee hitting the inside of the cup and the other half spreading quickly across his thighs and soaking into the seat of his car. His body finally seemed to relax and the tension leave him, and the look of relief on his face was amazing. He seemed to no longer care about making a mess or me watching as he emptied his bladder, which seemed to take forever. After he was finally done, he sat the cup in the cup holder, looked down at the damage he had done and said nothing besides 'this? Let's never talk about this again.
    1 point
  17. Hi guys, Casey is back!!! Some people may have read some of my stories from before about a friend of mine I refer to as Casey... Well, here is a new one from just last night less than 24 hours ago! She is my housemate and yesterday in Australia was Mother's Day, so we both caught the train together to see our mums. I stayed at home for a home cooked bbq for my mum as she went out to somewhere fancy with her mum where the drinks were flowing. We decided to meet back at the station afterwards and catch the train home together. When we got to the station there was a minute until our train came! We made a dash for it and got it in the knick of time! We sat down and prepared ourselves for the long hour and ten minute train ride home! She told me as we sat down that she should have peed before she left and she needed to go. She was wearing a purple dress with a black laced covered jacket... She looked fine as hell!! It had been raining most of the day and although now night, the rain was still pouring down! We reached the city, our train goes straight through, so we stayed on... She was fidgeting now and it was obvious... She had a face of concern, I just comforted her. As much as I want to see her have an accident, I don't want to see her publicly embarrassed, im a good guy ok!!! Then news hit as we took off that she didn't want to hear... The train driver came on the speaker and said something along the lines of "this train only runs from to *blah blah* due to scheduled track maintenance. Replacement buses will be running from..."... I told her it will be ok, she can get to the station and use the toilets before we got on the bus. As we pulled into the station, we hopped off the train and walked to where you get the buses. Our bus was already there! I asked the driver how long until we leave and he said he was about to and the next bus wasn't for another hour. **If you don't know what public transport is like on the west coast of Australia on a Sunday, it's shit house! Things run once every hour... And being it was raining and windy, getting home was what was on both our minds** Casey said she could hold another 20 minutes so we got into the bus. I comforted her again and said she could use the toilet when we get off the bus at the station before our last bus home. She nodded and I gave her my iPod to share to distract her from the feeling she had. She grabbed herself maybe once or twice on the bus trip, she seemed distracted enough from the music, so my idea worked!! We hopped off the bus and to her trauma, the station was closed!! As no trains were running, the station was shut down! That meant no toilets for Casey. It was an hour and twenty minutes walk home... So off we went in the pouring rain and wind for our stretch home. I gave her my black hooded jumper to keep her warm, doing all I can to help. She kept telling me the rain and the wind was making it hard for her to hold. I jokingly said "just pee yourself"... She smiled back at me teasing me saying that I would love that... I couldn't disagree with her!! Another ten minutes later she just stopped on the footpath and stood still. She grabbed my hand, smiled at me and walked me off the main road. She lifted her purple dress slightly to reveal her red satin seamless panties and just started going!! It was pretty hot... Rain was pouring, we were soaked and she was there revealing her panties as she stood there wetting them in the middle of the street! She went for about two minutes solid with a pretty strong stream! She seemed happier once she was done, smiling at me and almost skipping up the road! She knew it turns me on... She just said she was too cold and needed to warm up her legs... I played along with it! 40 minutes into our walk she told me she needed to shit... We are both not really into messing... So I didn't see it as a thing to get turned on about. I think she was hinting at something... But I didn't read into it much. An hour into our walk and I was cold... And I mean cold! It hasn't stopped raining the whole time and I had given my jumper to Casey to stay warm... All I was in was a t shirt and light grey skinny jeans. I had a full bladder, but I wasn't desperate to go and it was comfy walking... But I wanted to warm up... So I decided I was going to do what Casey did... I got her attention and stopped on the side of the road and just let it fly... I started peeing my jeans. Although they were already wet, you could see the patch get bigger. Her eyes lit up, shocked at what I was doing. She grabbed a hold of my cock through my jeans as I started to soak them. She just let the piss fill through her hands as she slowly played with member. Although it was only about a minute, for me that's not long, it felt relieving to have some warmth on my body somewhere... Even if I was soaked in piss. We talked about what had happened for the remainder of the walk, she brought up a couple more times she needed the toilet... I just told her we would be home soon. When we got in we took all our clothes off (except Casey kept her wet panties and her bra on) and threw them in the laundry sink. I offered her the shower first... Being the gentleman that I am. She got the water to hot and dragged me in... That's where I shall leave the story!! Yes, there is a bit more but I am not sure if people would want to hear that! Im pretty damn lucky to have a housemate like Casey... She is one damn fine girl!! I hope you all enjoyed this and I still have some stories up my sleeve!!! **PLEASE NOTE!! All my stories I post are not made up! I would like to think I don't have that much of an imagination when it comes to writing stories... so I am not really into writing them. However, when it comes to telling stories from personal experience, that's what I prefer to do... Share with the world situations that I have been luckily enough to be in**
    1 point
  18. What I mean is when was the first time someone found out about your fetish. Or did you never try to hide it? Or were you just REALLY good at hiding it?
    1 point
  19. This is the story of my first omo-sexual experience. I was 18 and fresh out of high school and spending much of my time with my best friend at the time, who we will be referring to as Liz. Liz was a quirky little fiery red-head rocker chick. Among her quirks was the adamant belief that my parents house, where this story takes place, was haunted. As a result she absolutely refused to be left alone in any room of the house after sun down. One night we were hanging out in my bedroom, lounging on my bed. Liz was looking amazing with her curvy hourglass figure, wearing some skin tight, olive green boot-cut jeans with a black tank top and a variety of spiked and chained jewellery. After a while of chatting i noticed she was starting to get fidgety. Liz was aware of my interests in desperation and wetting, as we were very open with one another about sex, and she noticed me becoming distracted. She put one hand between her legs while rubbing her thighs together, she leaned toward me, arching her back slightly adding emphasis to her already generous butt, as well as giving me a clear view down her shirt. She whispered in my ear "I have to pee soooo bad." She loved to tease me. I think she would do it to take her mind off of her anxiety, but she also seemed to get some kind of sadistic kick out of it; she knew exactly how to get me worked up, and occasionally it would result in sex. Needless to say, i was instantly aroused, and it was obvious. "Will you keep me company while i go to the bathroom?" She requested, with an exaggerated squirm. "I would love to," i said adjusting my pants, "but my parents are still awake. What if I wait right outside the door?" The entrance to the bathroom was in full view of my mom's seat at the computer. "Either that, or you can hold it until my parents are asleep." She sat down at the edge of my bed with one leg bouncing, her hand still firmly planted between her legs. "I'll try to hold it." "Or...." I said, trying not to sound too excited, "you can pee in your pants. I'll wash them for you." She looked toward the ceiling while contemplating her options. "Ok" She said as she stood up on my bed, legs slightly apart, with me standing on the ground in front of her, my face about level with her crotch. Suddenly the olive green of her pants darkens at the crotch. The dark patch spreads outward and down her inner thigh. The dark patch continues to spread as i undo my pants and begin stroking myself. The simmering wetness continues down her inner leg and then wraps toward her outer thighs until she is left standing on two wet patches on my bed with only a narrow strip of dry fabric along her waistband and down the outside seam of her pants. She climbed down off the bed and stood facing me. I reached around and put my hands on her soaked butt as i finished there on the front of her jeans. "Wow," She said quietly in my ear, "did you enjoy that?"
    1 point
  20. Hello again! Over the last few days, I have been working on various back-end updates to the site's software platform and server configuration in order to help improve overall performance. You should see the site is running somewhat faster in general now. In addition, there should be a significant improvement in file download speeds, especially during peak hours. These updates are unlikely to cause any issues, but if you catch any new errors or glitches popping up anywhere, please let me know!
    1 point
  21. I always wanted to play the tabletop version of Battlefleet Gothic, but the 40K players in my area always had zero interest in it. I might have to give that a look. Is it anything like the Homeworld games? I enjoyed those quite a bit.
    1 point
  22. Ellie Tests Incontinence Panties Accidentally. In Public. Whoops. -------- My name is Ellie, and I was an alcoholic. Not a great way for someone who's barely 21 to introduce herself, but at least now I can say was rather than am… at least most of the time. Cut me a little slack though, growing up dirt poor in the big city isn't easy, and I made it through mostly unscathed. Didn't get flunk out, didn't get pregnant, didn't get shot, and didn't terminally damage my kidneys, though I came close to a few of those (okay, maybe most of them). However, those are stories for a different time. At 21, I had mostly turned my life around. I was doing decent in college; had mostly stopped drinking, most of the time; and had met Dan, my first boyfriend who wasn't a gang-banger. But my previous lifestyle had left some marks: after getting my act cleaned up, my doctor (the first I'd seen since early childhood) diagnosed me with overactive bladder syndrome - probably a result of excess alcohol consumption he said, and probably something I'd be dealing with for the rest of my life. One night while reading online I saw an ad for a new line of "sexy" incontinence underwear. Sometimes it scares me that Google knows I want something before I even know it exists. They actually looked like underwear a normal 20-something year old would wear, although with their decent looks came some trade-offs: they weren't designed to hold much more than very light leaks. That was fine by me. Most of the time I made it to the bathroom fine. When I didn't, I usually didn't leak too much, but when you're out in public, returning from a bathroom break with even a small wet spot is still pretty embarrassing. Needless to say, I ordered a pair to try out. The next Saturday, Dan invited me out to dinner and to a play that I had really been wanting to go see. It seemed like a very appropriate opportunity to try out my new purchase, especially because I sometimes have trouble staying completely dry for an entire movie or show. Over the new panties I wore some fairly tight faded blue jeans, which I knew from past experienced turned fairly dark when wet. It was great to be able to wear them for once without concern about leaks showing up. At dinner I started with just water, and I had intended to stick to just water. However, after ordering my pepper-encrusted steak with sautéed onions, the waiter recommended we pair our meal with one of their in-house vintage wines. I was going to decline (really), but Dan said it sounded great to him. Sometimes it's hard to say no… so I got a glass as well. Normally I would never drink before any situation where I wouldn't have immediate access to a bathroom because alcohol tends to aggravate my OAB, but confidence in my new panties made me feel that I had a little extra wiggle room this evening. Dinner was delicious, but the service was a bit slow. By the time we finished eating we were way behind schedule. As we waited for the check, Dan looked up walking directions on his phone and found that if we left immediately we could get there with about 5 minutes to spare. This was the type of show where if you were late, you didn't get in - it said so in bold text right on the ticket. I was starting to feel the need to pee at this point and under normal circumstances would have started looking for a bathroom, but I was caught up worrying about whether we could get to the theatre in time. For the next couple minutes we sat in tense silence, anxiously looking around for our waiter. Finally, Dan told me he was going to get up and go look for the waiter. This was pretty unusual behavior for Dan, but we both realized how little time we had to waste. I opened my mouth to tell Dan I was going to run to the restroom while he tracked down the bill, but before I could speak the waiter appeared next to our table, set down the bill, and wished us a good evening. In less than 30 seconds, Dan had paid in cash (also pretty unusual), and we were out the door and rushing down the street. The sidewalks were crowded with people going out to enjoy their Saturday evening, but we set a rapid pace despite the congestion. Google Maps told us we would be late, but of course it assumed we would be walking at a normal pace. I nervously checked the time on my phone every two minutes, wondering first whether we would make it on time at all, and second whether there was any chance of us making it with enough time for me to use the bathroom before the show. Fortunately, we made good time and stepped through the front door and into the lobby with a couple minutes to spare. The play we were going to see that night was at one of the few theatres in the city I hadn't been to before. The theatre building was an unusual and somewhat awkward shape, although I have to give props to the architects for managing to squeeze a building of any sort into the V-shaped lot at the corner of two streets that met at a 45 degree angle. The pie-slice-shaped building had its entrance and lobby at the tip of the V. Immediately upon entering, I looked around for the bathroom, as I had reached the point where I would normally have stopped whatever I was doing and gone to pee. I had no trouble spotting it, but there was also already a woman standing next to the door waiting to use it. I only would have had time to use the bathroom had it been vacant, but even a one-person line meant someone was already inside. Cycling three of us through the bathroom before the show started wasn't going to happen, so I didn't even bother mentioning it to Dan. The lobby had doors leading deeper into the V on either side of the back wall. I expected to find myself at the back of the auditorium when we went through the door, but instead we found ourselves walking down a straight dark hallway lit by tiny aisle lights near the floor. Moments later we emerged into the auditorium at its front, right next to the stage. As we started climbing the stairs towards our seats, I looked back and saw a flood of light pouring into the dim auditorium through the two doors to the lobby. I understood now why the theatre didn't allow late admittance. I almost panicked when I realized that leaving in the middle of the show wouldn't be possible without causing a major disruption, but I managed to hold it together. To make matters worse, our seats were near the center of the row, and we had to climb over everyone who had arrived on time to get to them. When we reached our seats I looked around for other exits. There were two at the back, but they were labeled as emergency-only exits. The dark hallways flanking the stage were the auditorium's only link to the lobby. It would have been nice of the architects to have blocked the light from the lobby by putting a zig-zag or curve in the hallways, or even a second set of doors on the auditorium side, but I guess between the need to have two forward-facing exits for the fire code and the desire to maximum the space available for the stage they hadn't been able to manage it. As someone with OAB, I'm pretty familiar with the signals my bladder sends. So within about 10 minutes I knew with almost complete certainty that I wasn't going to be able to hold it for the remaining 80 minutes of the show. I was pretty pissed at myself for having that glass of wine at dinner and for not somehow managing to find a way to the bathroom before the show… although mostly for the glass of wine since that was actually under my control. At least I had chosen tonight to wear these incontinence underwear, although they were also the reason why I told myself it would be OK to order the wine, sooooo… I wasn't paying any attention to the show at this point. My eyes were everywhere except the stage, looking for some way to get to the bathroom without causing a major disruption. We had probably already annoyed most of the people in our row by arriving at the last minute and having to climb over them as the show began, but they would forgive us for that. I wasn't willing to face the embarrassment of having to ask them to move again less than 10 minutes after the show started. I'm sure in their mind they would be thinking that anyone who had to pee so badly they disrupted the show after only a few minutes should have gone before the show started. Right. I told myself I would wait at least another 20 minutes before getting up. Having to leave after only 30 minutes still didn't really seem acceptable, but it was sure a lot more reasonable than having to leave after 10. 20 more minutes without a small leak or a few dribbles was asking a lot of my poor bladder, but if my underwear worked as advertised it would be no problem. Of course, I had turned my phone off for the show, so I didn't actually have any way of seeing what time it was or how much time had passed, but after what I thought must have been about 20 minutes I still hadn't leaked, or at least hadn't had any leaks significant enough for me to feel them. I did have to pee really badly though, like really badly. In my mind I pictured how it would go: I would get up and disrupt each person in my row as they stood to allow me to pass by, and in turn the people standing would block the view of those behind them. Then I would draw everyone's attention, audience and actors alike, as I walked down the stairs to the lobby door, and finally I would blind everyone in the audience by opening the door and letting light from the lobby flood the room. Then I would do it again on the way back. In that moment I decided I couldn't do it, even after I had promised myself that if I just waited 20 more minutes I would let myself get up and go. The embarrassment of having to leave the auditorium was simply too great and too immediate. Would it be more embarrassing than peeing my pants? Maybe or maybe not, but I hadn't lost control yet, so having to get up to go to the bathroom felt like more of an immediate threat than having wet pants. I prayed that by some miracle the show would have an intermission and save me, although I didn't think one was scheduled. At least I had the new panties, although I really wished I had bothered to test them beforehand to see how much could actually hold. They were only advertised as being able to protect against mild leaks - a few teaspoons at most, but at that moment I was really hoping they were over-engineered. I knew they were going to get a little wet, even if the show did have an intermission, but hopefully not wet enough to show. I felt torn between trying to stay dry for at least another 15 or 20 minutes to see if there would be an intermission, or testing the underwear right away while I still had reasonable control over my bladder. After waiting what felt like 5 more minutes I couldn't take it anymore. Here I was, a 21-year-old college student deciding to test a new incontinence product in the middle of a crowded theatre - great planning Ellie. Given that I had little choice in the matter, my plan to test the panties was basically the same one I would have used in private: I would pee a little tiny bit, wait for a few minutes, and then check for any leaks. I expected the panties to leak at some point, so I would repeat the process a few times until they did. There was enough of the show left that a small leak would dry by the end; I had enough experience with minor leaks to know that. Hopefully the panties would absorb enough for me to hold the rest until an intermission or the end of the show. If they didn't, I would suck it up and go to the bathroom, because in my head I knew peeing myself would be a much more embarrassing and much longer-lasting ordeal than having to leave the auditorium during the show. So then I tried to do something I had never tried to do on purpose before: I tried to pee myself a little while surrounded by other people. It was surprisingly difficult to do, despite how badly I had to pee at that point. Butterflies filled my stomach as I tried to relax. Then I felt a huge urge to pee building and quickly aborted the attempt because it felt like way too much was about to flood out. I tried again and managed to let out a few agonizing dribbles. Less than I had hoped, but at least it was something. As I sat waiting for it to soak in I felt hot everywhere. My face was flushed and probably bright red, and my urethra felt warm and pleasant from the liquid that had just passed through it. After a minute I stared down at my jeans to look for leaks. I didn't notice any, but it also wasn't really bright enough to see them very well. I discreetly rested a hand in my lap and probed with my fingers - they felt dry. Finally, I lifted one butt cheek and ran a hand under my bottom - also dry. Winner of round one: panties. Time for round two. Butterflies built in my stomach again, but it was a lot easier to let go the second time - the pump was primed so to speak. I let loose a few high-pressure spurts. A little more than I had meant to this time, and I actually thought I heard an audible hissing in between lines of dialog. No one around me seemed to have noticed though, so I probably only heard it because I was listening for it (or maybe I just imagined it). I stared down at my crotch again, and again it looked dry. A quick check with my hand in my lap also came back dry. When I ran my hand under my butt it felt like the tips of my fingers came back slightly damp. I checked again; they still felt damp. The panties had held quite a bit less than I had hoped they would (although to be fair, I was probably already pushing them beyond what they were rated for). I wasn't really sure what to do at that point, although I knew I should probably just get up and go to the bathroom like a big girl. I didn't have to wait much longer though, a minute later I got a funny feeling in my stomach and felt a strong urge to pee coming on very quickly. I couldn't clamp down quickly enough to stop it and felt warmth in my lap as I filled my panties with a severe leak. I immediately ran my hand under my bottom again. This time my entire hand, both butt-side and seat-side, came back obviously wet. I had only leaked for a second or two at most, but with the underwear's absorbent lining already saturated the pee had gone basically straight into my pants. Now that my pants were obviously wet the entire embarrassment-equation had changed drastically. I would no longer really save myself any face by leaving to go to the bathroom, so that wasn't going to happen anymore. I didn't intentionally pee myself right then, but a few minutes later when I started leaking again I also didn't try too hard to stop it. I just tried to limit the flow to keep the noise at a minimum. However, I did stop when I heard drips beginning to fall off the seat and smack into the floor. At that point though I had gone enough to hold it for the rest of the show. The show didn't have an intermission, and I ended up being pretty stiff by the end of it, because for the rest of the show I couldn't really shift my weight on the seat with compressing the cushion and sending audible drips of pee down to the floor. So I ended up sitting extremely still in my wet jeans for another 45 minutes or so. I can't remember almost anything from the first half of the show, but the second half was good. Also the underwear do work, but only if used responsibly. -------- Inspired by a true story: broadly.vice.com /en_us/article/polyuria-essay-pee-proof-underwear-review (remove the space to fix the URL) An accompanying video I found, showing an inside-the-panties view of the climactic moments of the story: [contains nudity] https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5892d3a4d4935
    1 point
  23. Julie Skyhigh is probably my favorite porn actress. She does a lot of stuff related to my down jacket fetish, but this is her only clothed wetting video. I'm trying to get her to do more... She has a few dozen videos of naked pissing too, but as they show genitalia I'm not sure if they violate the rules of this forum. Anyway, this vid is great. She walks around town dressed in a leather jacket, tight jeans and her signature high heels, visibly desperate to pee. She finally empties herself in her jeans. Well worth the $10 https://clips4sale.com/studio/47732/9292115/emergency+in+my+jeanspant+in+public+-+HD
    1 point
  24. Performance improvements

    Yep. I tried to spread them out to avoid too much of a disruption.
    1 point
  25. Did you fully wet yet? I really have to go.
    1 point
  26. Currently holding 8/10...Have not gone since this morning and drinking tea. Just had the route 44 from Sonic.
    1 point
  27. Totally not diapers at all! I hope this trend hits North America. :)
    1 point
  28. Short introduction: I’m a male student, 25 years old and have been reading on here for quite some time. I’m into both sorts of accidents, mostly watching though, but unfortunately haven’t been very lucky so far except for one time. I’ll share that one later on. Now I want to share my experience from this morning. After working on my thesis for a while, I decided to go running before having lunch. So I just put on my running shorts and shoes and left the house. About 1 km from home I realized I had to pee quite a bit, probably due to about 1.5 liters of water and two cups of coffee that I had beforehand. I didn’t really care that much though because the track I usually take goes through a forest later on, where it would be easy to go pee. I was quite surprised about the speed of my desperation level rising though. I decided to make it to the 5 km point where I turn around and go pee there. Its in the middle of the forest and there should have been enough secluded spots to go. At about 4 km I was already absolutely bursting, but I somehow decided to take the challenge and make it all the way to where I planned to go peeing. At this point, my urge was already that strong, that I suddenly lost a small spurt in the middle of running. Usually, it should be really difficult to pee while moving, not anymore with the bladder filled up that much though. I pulled the waist band of my running shorts a little away to check if I truly already lost a spurt cause I couldn’t quite imagine that, regarding that I had felt the first desperation about 15 min ago. There definitely was a small spot on my grey boxers though. So I hurried up and reached my destination without another incident and was about to go pee, when suddenly there was a woman walking by with her dog. I couldn’t quite believe my bad luck. I was that desperate at this point that it felt like I would start peeing any second. So I just pretended to take a break and sat down on the bench where I always turn around. I instantly grabbed myself after sitting down, even though the woman was still approaching me, but from the angle she shouldn’t have been able to see. Once she passed me, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore and started peeing full force for about 20 sec. My grey boxers were soaked as well as my running shorts. It was my luck though, that the shorts are black, so I’m quite sure you couldn’t tell from the outside. After I managed to regain control and it wasn’t that much of an emergency anymore, I just got up and started my way back. When I reached my house, I was really desperate again though. I took a picture when I got home. Hope you enjoyed the story.
    1 point
  29. This lovely photo set features Sosha wearing a pull-on style diaper on a sun-porch. Standing on the porch, bathed in warm sunlight, we find Sosha wearing nothing but a cute pull-on style diaper. She poses for our camera, looking adorable, and teasing us with sexy views of her diaper. Later in the photo set, she takes the diaper off, holding it up to show it off to the camera while posing fully naked. Also of note, my girlfriend, Kate, has been practicing her photography recently. She actually shot these photos, as I had a terrible cold at the time and wasn't feeling up to doing a shoot. So, if you enjoy her work, make sure to post something and let her know. Here are some sample images from the gallery. The full gallery features 110 unique photos. Be warned, there is some nudity here-
    1 point
  30. I cant never get this play.. Maybe is just my connection?
    1 point
  31. [Chapter 3: Consideration] Time was short....The boy could hear the clamoring footsteps of the entire mass of female students, as they made their way to the locker room.... 'Shit....What do I do..?' The boy thought to himself, frantically searching for a place to hide. Leaving the room was impossible, and being discovered in the girl's locker room..... Expulsion would be the least of his issues......If he was caught, looking like he was trying to peep on his female friends..He'd definitely be...... Fwunk. The boy's head suddenly clanged against metal, as the dusty-blonde shoved him into a locker...slamming the door shut to black out most of his view..... "Wow, Lillica! You're pretty amazing at shooting." a familiar, lightly regal voice called. The boy could picture long, pink hair....A respectable figure, and a lengthy dress.... 'Ria..' he thought, as a slight chuckle could be heard... "Ah, well...I've always been good at throwing things." Lillica's voice added, as the boy lightly rose to his feet....a small vent in the locker letting in the slightest amount of light.... "Eheh...I hope we don't have to play you during our testing time." Ria's voice mused, as the boy managed to barely peek out...his eyes going wide as he saw bare, creamy flesh....Only lightly covered by naughty material..... 'Stripes...' he thought, closing his eyes after a few dared moments....Holding his breath, and waiting...... 'I..I can't be found here..' It felt like hours.......But, in reality, it was merely a few, tensed minutes......The noise inside of the locker rooms slowly dying down.......The crowd, slowly dispersing....And then... .... FWUMP. The boy's body tumbled to the ground as the door was opened, the dusty blonde standing behind the opened door, back to wearing her tan sweater, and ankle-length dress.. "Enjoy the show?" Faye's voice mused, as the boy shook his head. "I..I didn't peek...Honest." he assured the girl...Whose expression glanced downward...and then sighed. "I suppose..you didn't." the girl called, sounding a fair bit more...annoyed than before. "Figures that the almighty powerful artifact of lust, and desire....Falls into the hands of the one person who won't abuse it for their own personal, lustful gain.." Faust went to raise himself up at this, glaring back at the girl. "Speaking of, give it-" he started, as the girl held out the black notebook. "Take it." the girl called, coldly. "I promised I would, and I'm not a liar.." The boy took the book back from her quickly, and started to fan through the pages.....Glancing up at the girl after a bit. "How do I know this is the real thing?" he stated, the girl's smile turning mischievous again. "Could always write my name down again.." she mused, her hands gripping her long dress. "Make me do something demeaning....And then wet, again." Faust glanced at the girl for a bit...before merely holding the book under his arm, and exhaling sharply. "I'm fine, thanks.." he answered stiffly, glancing towards the door. "I...can test it later. When there's not so many people wandering around..." "Oh? So you're one of those kinds?" Faye mused, giving a giggle. "Polite, and proper in public....but a freak in private.." "Don't make such baseless assumptions.." Faust denied sharply, waving his hand side to side. "I just think...one wetting is enough for you today." "Even though you could write more?" the girl mused back, grinning. "Could write anyone's name in it too. Make anyone do what you wanted with them......I saw you staring at-" "I refuse." the boy stated firmly. "I don't plan on using the note, unless I have to....Abusing this kind of power would just be....unsightly." "Heheh..So self-righteous.." Faye added, with a grin. "Very well...You can do what you want....For now..." The boy watched as the girl started out ahead of him...her long dress waving side to side as she deliberately swayed her hips...the door closing on her back.... '....I..should get out of here..' he thought, before starting out of the room..quietly. If he stayed any longer.... .... ....... "So, someone knows about me?" the sultry voice of Saril called out to the boy, nonchalantly. "My my....It seems my reputation precedes me." "It's so weird.." the boy snapped back, as he shut the door...Peering back at the ethereal, buxom woman...With ivory skin, violet eyes, and long black hair. "I mean..How many people have you given this notebook to before?" "None." Saril answered quickly, as she floated in the air. "I've certainly catered to the desires of others before, but that notebook is my personal one. There's nothing else like it." "Right.." the boy stated flatly, as he set the Wet Note on the table. "Aside from the literal fact of it making people soak.." "Not entirely a unique feature.." the Goddess mused, as she floated down. "But, she made you use the Note." "I didn't have a choice.." the boy called, as he sat down in his chair. "It was that, or she'd make off with it!" "You could have prevented it, by writing her name before." The goddess called, as Faust shook his head. "I just..don't want to have to rely on that kind of thing." the boy argued, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "I just..." ... The boy suddenly couldn't figure out how to finish that statement. He had a magical book, that could cater to his own desire....Something with a vast amount of power....And yet he.... He didn't want to use it? 'It's not that I don't want to, but..' he thought, as he remembered the girl's accident once more. Blue shorts, turning a sharp navy..... Her smug, confident expression.... melllllllting away as her urge overtook her..... The growing, flowing puddle..... "You look like you're enjoying yourself..." the Goddess's voice called, as his eyes opened once more. "Well I..-" the boy started, before suddenly backing up, flushing. "S..Saril! Wh-wh-wh...." "Oh, This?" the Goddess's voice mused, as she grinned. "I was just thinking..I should adopt a new look." What was once a fully-grown, buxom woman....Was now only a slightly older girl...With softly pale skin....Violet hair tied into twintails..... And, what was originally a black corset... Was now a violet blazer, and a knee-length plaid skirt, with tall purple stockings.... "S..so you just.." Faust remarked, as Saril brushed past him, with a grin. "Yep." she mused, long black wings folding up neatly on her back...As she turned. "You don't mind, do you?" The boy had certainly gotten used to Saril's adult figure......But, this modest, teenage one..? "O..Of course not.." he bluffed, starting to turn on his computer. "You're...free to do as you...please..." "Perfect. Heheheh...." the Goddess mused, letting out an amused giggle.....As she started off, swaying her hips with every step.... 'Gods......' he thought to himself with the shake of his head, as he started to type away on his computer. 'She's just..trying to get me all bothered again..' The boy started to peruse to a certain site....Curious about a mixture of updates, and submissions from...interesting parties..... Booooooop....Booooooop.... The boy jumped as his computer started making noises at him.......One of the messenger apps he had open beeping... [Call from: Lustful Lyras] The boy, logically, denied the call.... Booop...booop... Only to get it back....Again...and again...and again. Eventually, the boy groaned loudly, and clicked the button....Ready to give the pestering caller a piece of his mind... "Hello, Faustus." The moment he accepted the call, his monitor was filled corner-to-corner with the sandy-blonde haired girl from school....no longer wearing the same long dress, and concealing sweater.... But instead, simple....plain white lingerie. He didn't have a camera on his computer.....But, somehow, it felt like her golden eyes were staring right at him, as she leaned back on a fluffy looking bed....The girl smiling. "You didn't want to do this in school....So, I'm giving you a chance now.." The boy found himself staring...mouth agape, as the girl spread her legs wide, her fingers running along the insides of her legs. "Go on...Write my name." she softly groaned, her eyes practically glowing with desire. "Demean me....Humiliate me...make me bend to your will.." The boy's eyes were still glued at the girl's legs, as she let out a loud, sweet moan.... "Ah..." the boy's mouth sounded quietly....As the girl's ears perked up...And she giggled. "You sound needy.." the girl mused, as she leaned back on her bed. "Go ahead...write....I want to hear the noises you make..." 'How...did you even..?" Faust sounded out, as the girl rolled over onto her stomach...White panties cupping her ample bottom nicely. "I Have my....ways." the girl's voice called dismissively......As she looked over her shoulder. "Do you like this angle? Or, would you prefer to see my..br-" "I..I didn't ask for this..!" the boy snapped sharply, blushing from ear to ear. "Oh, maybe not verbally..." the girl mused, brushing a finger against her lips. "But, your essence....Your Aura.." Faust squeezed his eyes shut to try to block out the view.......... "It just screams to me....." she started, as her fingers slid down to the sides of her panties. "You want more. You want..." BLIP..... The screen went dark on Faust's end.....Everything shutting down suddenly....As the boy peeked out from nearly closed eyelids... "Ah..?" he started, quietly. "The power's..." The whole room had grown dark, and the bright lights of his monitor were now blackened....As he glanced around, warily. "That's....odd timing.." he stated quietly, before standing up...The power blinking back on in a few moments. His computer started to stir to life, but the boy moved to turn it back off.....sighing lightly. "Geez....Why me..?" the boy called to himself, pacing around his apartment....Glancing once more at the black notebook. "Maybe...Maybe I Should get rid of it, before I do something....stupid..." "Would you rather I haunt someone else?" Saril mused from the hallway, the boy turning to face her...and then away once again at her teenage form. "I'm certain I could find a more amusing target than you at this rate. It's been so long before today.....Have you even considered using it for your own pleasures in these past few months?" "Well...I.." the boy started quietly.....As Saril's fingers jabbed into his sternum. "Let me answer that for yo- No." she stated, flatly. "So, how about a good old fashioned bribe?" "A..bribe..?" the boy called, as the girl climbed up onto his desk, crossing her legs. "Quite. It's the only way I ever get you to do anything..." she mused, tapping her fingers along her thighs. "Bring me the undergarments of four different girls....And I'll give you a blessing." "Ah..?" the boy sounded quietly...As Saril held up her finger. "Oh, but if you don't complete my mission by the end of the week..." she added, uncrossing her legs. "I will leave you to lead your boring school life....And, go follow around someone with a more active Libido." "A week?!" the boy snapped, sharply. "B..But...!" "No butts." Saril stated, firmly. "And don't try to cheat me on this. I'll know if you try to bring me a bunch from that pinkette....Or, just buy some at the store." "I...I would never think of cheating like that.." the boy defended quickly, as the girl leaned into him....Violet eyes looking deep into his soul... "Of course not..." Saril stated sweetly...before the boy felt a firm grip on a very sensitive part of him.....Saril's pleased, bemused expression suddenly looking icy cold... "Or...I'll have to take this with me when I go." ..... Any thoughts of trying to game Saril's system were swiftly dispersed.....As the boy paled.... ...... "Aww....It looks like he disconnected." Faye's voice mused, as she rocked back and forth on her bed. "Shame...and I was looking forward to soaking these..." The girl sat up, and parted her legs...leaning back on her bed.... "Well, no sense in wasting good fodder.." she mused...closing her eyes, and letting out a loud....soft sigh... Psssssssssshhhh...Psssshhhpshssssshhhh As white material started to darken a faded grey....a puddle forming between her hips, and puddled under her bottom. "Next time....Maybe I should try a more...subtle approach.." Her eyes flickered purple again as she pondered....Letting her mind wander as she lightly marinated in her puddle... ========================================================================================================================================== [Chapter 3: Consideration, End]
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  32. https://vk.com/id394689175?z=video323865349_456239017%2Fvideos394689175 Very kinky, pretty sure she's acting it out for a wetting company even though it isn't noted in the video.
    1 point
  33. Well here it is, there are still 4 or 5 pages i wanna do to finish and embellish the story, but here it is. If you go by file name they're in order, sorting by captions sort of works but it skips pages 2-9 and goes right to the aftermath. Hope you like them and please please please give feedback. Also have to include a nudity warning, there's a closeup of her urethra letting go that definitely shows a lot, and I also plan to do a page of her changing out of her wet clothes.
    1 point
  34. Thank you so much everyone for the generous comments! It is so kind of you all! Thank you!
    1 point
  35. Sorry for the lack of gifs earlier, had to reduce the picture size a bit because there are more animations than there are shown in the gifs for desperation. The animation will have some refinements made for them soon.
    1 point
  36. A diaper is the only responsible option in this circumstance. Nitrous is funny stuff, it feels quite a bit like being quite drunk in that it removes a lot of your inhibitions. A bedwetting problem, an omorashi kink interest, nitrous oxide and a dentists chair are a recipe for a very awkward situation because there's double danger - one an accidental wetting and two, an under the influence deliberate wetting. Be safe, pee before the appointment and wear a diaper out of respect for your dentist and whichever poor sap would have to clear up afterwards.
    1 point
  37. Jenny drank from her complimentary bottle of water and sat in her chair. She had barely made it to the meeting on time, stopping for starbucks despite the long line of cars in the drive thru. She hoped her coffee breath wasn’t bad, she had downed her venti coffee black, she liked it strong. As the meeting progressed, Jenny found herself tapping her foot. Her stop for coffee had left her with no time for a quick bathroom stop and the drink had made its way to her bladder quickly. She hoped they didn’t have to talk for too much longer… The meeting was dragging out. Jenny was getting more and more desperate. Her legs were crossed twice, at thighs and ankles, and she was thinking about sneaking a hand between her legs. She tried not to rock too much but she couldn’t help some movement when a wave a desperation came through. She switched her legs and slid one hand off the table. Slowly, she moved her hand to grab herself discreetly. She was going to wet herself if the meeting didn’t end soon. Come on, come on! She thought desperately. The meeting was coming to a close but people just kept talking to say “one more thing before we head out.” Jenny was almost squirming in her seat. She felt a bit of wetness leak through her pantyhose and onto her hand which was pressed tight against herself. She rubbed her thighs together and hunched over a bit willing this meeting to be over already. The small spot of wetness drove her nuts. She didn’t want to wet herself in front of her colleagues, but it was looking more and more likely that she would leave a puddle in her spot at the table. Finally her boss spoke. “Alright, we’re done here, everyone can get back to work now. Great meeting guys!” Jenny rushed out of the room, trying to look normal, but knowing that she wasn’t fully succeeding. “What’s wrong, you looked upset all meeting?” Sarah asked her, stopping her in the hallway. “Just cramps.” Jenny managed to squeak out. “I’ve got some midol?” Sarah suggested. “I’ll be fine.” Jenny replied, gritting her teeth. “I’ll be back to my desk in a minute” She added, already heading towards the bathroom again. It was just around the corner, she could feel herself leak again just thinking about the toilets. She grabbed herself and ran straight into the empty bathroom. When she got in a stall she fumbled with the lock, trying to hold herself with one hand while securing the door with the other. She could feel pee dribbling down her legs as she finally locked the door. She didn’t have time to take off her panties, she just pulled up her skirt and sat on the toilet, sighing happily as pee rushed out of her hissing as it passed through her tights and panties. When the flow finally stopped she took off her soaked undergarments and rung them out as best she could. The panties were ruined but the tights had survived after being washed in the bathroom sink. Jenny decided she would go commando that day.
    1 point
  38. This is not about changing diapers, that subject provides context and coincidence. About two hours ago Diapered1998 posted unusually good advice about preferring to change diapers in a single occupant restroom. I'm in a StarBux with single-occupant restrooms. I recently got up to avoid needing to change my diaper. (Started leaking while walking across th public area. At restrooms found someone had taken advantage of locks to clog and leave then running sinks unobserved. Within five minutes I really should have changed. But I have a good excuse for smelling of pee. To the point -- A retired Bible minister frequenting this shop had an intense conversation with the cleaning guy (slowing work) and departed. For many coffee and waiting don't (do?) mix well. Two college girls to my right have keep their legs very tightly crossed (for about twenty minutes now.Another has looked uncomfortable for an equal time. She started a new venti, but after very little pushed it away. Apparently, an extra two ounces pushing stomach toward bladder gave her a problem. Another college girl facing away from the restroom got up and started for it. Before returning to her bench she had her hand between her legs. She just picked up here book-pack said something to the cleaning guy and decided to stay. All four girls keep glancing toward he rest room. The college is locked today. Another college girl, who hadn't appeared in need, just got her boyfriend to take her somewhere else. The girl who had put her hand between her legs grabbed her book-pack and rushed out. I just counted seventeen customers plus the four person staff. Seemingly these college girls either don't remember or don't know a Mexican cafe half a block away has the restrooms just inside the parking lot entrance. They're never locked during business hours. A hallway jog prevents observation from the dining and kitchen areas. No one would notice anyone using the restrooms and leaving. Another leg crosser departed. The grl with the bookpark returned looking out and out "relieved" and happy. I've stayed for 45 minutes to see shat sort of line develops when the restrooms open. That's not happening. Those admitting to desperation, now allowed to use the restrooms. Girls who have had obvious excess pressure for 45 minutes, have not noticed the conditional access and have not been informed by the staff. Conceivably, they'll do something worth reporting. As things stand, I'm in a limited-capacity day diaper. It's been getting fuller for 50 minutes and at some point (actually overdue) my own urinary spincter will refuse to close off a leak. Stanley
    1 point
  39. Some pictures of me after too much tea and seeing how many holding wettings my diaper could take.
    1 point
  40. Tumblr Finds

    https://wetbedg.tumblr.com/post/160116469334/pricilliain2pee-desesperation-girl-pee-jeans Sorry if repost
    1 point
  41. Perhaps the solution is to have a section for this. We've gone down this road so many times before. Some of us like both, so why not put them in their own topic like this?
    1 point
  42. I have never showered with your girlfriend. But im available most weekends.
    1 point
  43. There's nothing rude about what I said. Why should we have to tag topics? Because some of us don't want to see certain things.....
    1 point
  44. Version 1.0.0

    797 downloads

    some ok videos not my favorite
    Free
    1 point
  45. I don't know about women, but I have my own internal conflict about this lol. Under any other circumstances I'm 100% straight and the sight of naked males turns me off pretty fast. HOWEVER, add a very full bladder to the equation, and suddenly women, men, cartoon characters, furries, amorphous blobs, and just about anything else becomes extremely attractive to me. I'm simply peesexual. As long as someone or something is seriously bursting to pee, no matter who or what it is, I get sprung.
    1 point
  46. hello :D you're talking about me! Thank u :) if you like the wetting and wetting I also uploaded other videos recently on pornhub i descover with pleasure this topic :) http://it.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5891deeccc134 Pee in sweatpants http://it.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5893392105c1c Pee on the kitchen chair
    1 point
  47. Just give me $1000 and a bucket of ice. I'll be five minutes.
    1 point
  48. Some videos I picked up from my female wetting collection to celebrate my Contributory Member status. Enjoy my first and great contribution as Contributory Member! Didn't found the right colour, but anyway... I'm really happy. I hope these videos are new to you. Black jeans wetting.mp4 Gray leggings wetting LouJaxx.flv Pink leggings wetting MelodyStar.flv wetting in leather leggings and rubber boots mit bondageangel.flv wetting in wetlook leggings mit bondageangel.flv
    1 point
  49. 5,155 downloads

    This was on of four parts that was meant to be offered as a single 2GB download but unfortunately after various attempts and failures that lasted 6+ hours I've decided to go ahead and split them up. In hindsight a single 2GB file may have been daunting for some members, it would have been for me. So maybe this method is better, allows me once again to add thumbnails for all 52 videos. As with the Male variation of these sets a ZIP file of all videos is also included. *Some users from XTube were skipped due to various reasons such as, videos were not their own, videos violated the forums upload policy, videos belong to another user. Probably the most popular, Naughty_Lucy420, is not included because there is already an amazing collection offered by our very own administrator Shu, that seems to have all her videos from XTube and maybe even more.* Link to this page is here... Videos included in the series contain nudity, wetting, desperation, some diapers and non-clothed peeing. That is not saying this set has all of them it's what you can expect. The list of users videos offered in this set are as follows... Swishersweetie L34H Babyweewee10 Undine90 Nooneyouknow DespGoldLeaker If you feel there is a better way of uploading such a large amount of files feel free to give your suggestion. That's it thank you all for being such a great community.
    Free
    1 point
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