DsGSilver

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  1. Repconn's art

    Fallout omo is top tier omo.
  2. Repconn's art

    Very nice. Scenarios where multiple people have accidents at once are always great. That'll be fun. Can't wait!
  3. The curse of the eastern isle

    Agreed.
  4. Wet in the Wastelands

    Excellent chapter, very excited to see part 2!
  5. Journey to Arnwick

    And, almost exactly one month later, here's the next part! Also, just as a teaser, the next chapter will be from Alma's perspective. Anyway, sorry about the wait, but I hope you guys enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Morning had come, and the early sunlight danced on all of the wet leaves and grass. Hazel had changed into a gray, long-sleeved shirt and dark brown pants. She still wore Alma’s long coat. Following Alma’s example, she had traded her dress for something a bit more practical. In her own defence, though, she hadn’t expected that she would need to survive in the wilderness- this was supposed to be a quick, couple-day trip! She didn’t think she would need to flee from ferocious monsters. She most certainly hadn’t expected that she would have to protect Alma while she was unconscious. She crouched near her friend and inspected her. Alma had gone pale, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Pressing her hand against her face, Hazel confirmed that Alma had a fairly severe fever. She was breathing in ragged little gasps. Alma had assured her that she would be fine, just unconscious, but she looked anything but “fine”. Hazel prayed she was right. She set about gathering their scattered supplies and stockpiling them in the shelter of the ruined carriage. Much of it was completely lost in the chaos, but she was at least able to gather a lot of their food, water, and clothes. She couldn’t help but to weep softly as she collected it all. She had sold everything, left behind everything for this. And now half of all that she had left to her name was lost; strewn about a deadly forest. A smile shone from her face as she came upon one of their sleeping bags. It faded somewhat as she lifted it up, and discovered it was only the tattered remnants of a sleeping bag. It must have been shredded at some point when the carriage veered into the woods. But there was just enough of it left that perhaps it could still be used as a mattress. Making her way back to Alma, she laid out the torn sleeping bag on the ground. Putting one arm under Alma’s back and the other under her legs, Hazel tried to lift the hunter. Grunting and groaning, she heaved as hard as she could, but only managed to elevate her friend about a foot off of the ground before collapsing. Alma groaned in pain at the fall. “Oh God, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Hazel put one hand over her mouth. Slowly and carefully, she grabbed Alma under the arms, being careful not to put pressure on her injured arm, and dragged her onto the sleeping bag. Lifting her feet, she pulled them onto it, as well. It wasn’t much, but it had to be better than slumping over onto a bunch of wet roots. Alma seemed to shiver slightly, and Hazel quickly took off the hunter’s coat, and laid it over her chest, like a blanket. Hazel was happy she could at least give her friend this much. Once their little “camp”, if it could be called such, was done, Hazel sat down with her back against the carriage. She picked up the book and studied its cover for a moment. She was hesitant to begin reading from it; worried that a monster of some sort could attack while she was distracted. She had loaded Alma’s crossbow (quite strenuously) and taken one of her silver daggers- both now rested on either side of the merchant. Still, she was nervous. She mentally slapped herself, remembering that Alma had instructed her to read through the book. She flipped the book open to the first page, and began reading with determination. DO EAT: Small green raspberry-things are a-ok. Taste like ass, but they’ll keep you going. Direwolf meat. Tough as nails, but whatever’s in it will build muscle like nothing else. DO NOT EAT: Small purple berries with dark purple splotches. They taste pretty good, but you’ll shit yourself silly. Oranzelg meat. Tough like steak, and good like it, too. Only problem is that whatever they use in their venom must be in their meat, too, since eating just a little bit will make you go all numb and lethargic. Definitely do not eat both as part of one meal. That is the end of that pair of pants. It sounded like Alma had an eventful day when she made that notation. Hazel figured her friend was telling the truth about how many times she’s soiled herself in this line of work. Looking at the next page, Alma had detailed various kinds of traps that are good for catching prey. The next described weather conditions and their effects on the wildlife. The page on weather caught Hazel’s attention. Oranzelgs are pretty sedentary creatures, but for whatever reason, rain agitates them, and sends them into vicious rampages. I can still see Donny running towards me, with one chasing after him. Still see it pouncing on him. If it’s raining, avoid all travel if possible. Hazel remembered Donny. He was a young boy who had become Alma’s apprentice. Hazel had only met him a few times, but he seemed pretty nice. She was always a little jealous of the fact that he was a couple years younger than she was, yet was twice as brave as she was. She’d heard that his career as a hunter came to an abrupt end when an oranzelg shredded his leg. She’d always figured that he must have been alone when it happened, but it seems that Alma was present for the incident. She lowered the book, and looked with sympathy towards her friend. Poor thing, she thought, She had to watch her student get maimed in front of her. After a moment of reflection, she recalled Alma’s concern for her safety, how much she seemed to dread one of the creatures appearing. Hell, the fact that Alma, of all people, lost control of her bowels and filled her pants in fear. It seemed to make sense, suddenly. She must see a bit of Donny in me. She thought she was going to lose another student. Another friend. She continued flipping through the book. She was determined more than ever to keep Alma safe, and to not put her through the loss of someone else. More pages on what to eat and what to avoid. A few on different monsters and what draws them out. Hazel leaned in excitedly when she found a page of potion recipes and natural remedies. A few different types of antivenom caused her some confusion, as she wondered which one to try and make. She supposed she’d never really thought about the fact that not all animals use the same kind of venom. Her heart sank when she noticed the little footnotes that indicated these would only work for very specific maladies. As she turned the page, however, she did find a recipe to make an all-purpose painkiller. Looking at her friend’s ragged, shallow breaths and pale exterior, Hazel figured it would help, if nothing else. The ingredients looked to be fairly simple, too. Just some basic herbs mashed up and mixed with water. I can do that! She thought proudly. She stood, and took one step away from their makeshift camp before she realized she was about to leave her friend completely alone. It also occurred to her that if she was attacked, she’d only have one shot with the crossbow- there was no way she’d be able to reload it during combat. It took all of her strength to pull the string back. “Nnnnnnnnn...” She heard Alma groan, and rushed to her side. She was writhing in pain, twisting her body in unsettling ways. She was in agony, Hazel realized. She felt tears forming in her eyes as she looked at her friend’s suffering. She had decided, now. She needed to make Alma that medicine. As she worried about her friend’s safety, she recalled what had protected her on her first night in the forest. She retrieved the container of salt from the ruins of her carriage, and formed a circle of it around the unconscious hunter. Hazel had no idea how effective it would be against some of the fiercer monsters, but it would certainly stop the smaller ones. If nothing else, it was peace of mind enough to set off for the ingredients. Scanning the area to ensure that no creatures were already approaching, Hazel clutched the crossbow, and set off to find the required herbs. Meanwhile, Alma continued to stir. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hazel was filled with relief when she plucked the last ingredient for the potion. It was a small mushroom, which she turned over and over in her palm, silently thanking it for its sacrifice. She dropped it into the pouch that contained the rest of the ingredients. Double-checking Alma’s notebook to ensure she had acquired all the necessary reagents, she hoisted up the crossbow, slung the pouch over her shoulder, and practically skipped back to camp. A nagging concern migrated from the back of her mind to the forefront, and she wondered if Alma was okay, since she had been left all alone. The salt was effect enough at keeping some creatures away, but the oranzelg sure didn’t mind how close it had come to their stash. Her exuberant skipping evolved into a hurried jog as worry tugged at her heart. She came upon the camp, and was relieved to find Alma still in one piece. One passed-out, heavily envenomed piece. She knelt down next to her, and placed her hand on the hunter’s forehead. She was burning with fever. Her face was still pale, and she was drenched in sweat. Her breathing was faint, but it was there. There’s no time to lose, she thought as she retrieved her satchel. She would need to crush the herbs, then mix them with water to complete the process. Rummaging through the wreckage of her carriage, she at last stumbled upon an undamaged bowl, then settled on a relatively round rock to serve as an impromptu mortar and pestle. As she prepared to dump the herbs into the bowl, she heard Alma moan suddenly, “Haaaaazyyyyy...” Came Alma’s raspy, choked voice. Without a second thought, she rushed to Alma’s side, crouching down beside her. “What? What do you need?” She asked quickly and dutifully. “Hazy… Need… I need...” Hazel’s hopes of her friend returning to the waking world when dashed when she realized the hunter was basically just sleep-talking. Alma’s head lolled over to the other side, mouth open as if she were snoring. Hazel prepared to return to her potion-making, when Alma quietly whispered, “Need… Aaaahhh...”. A look of total bliss came over Alma’s face, which confused Hazel. She placed her hand on her forehead again to see if the temperature had changed, when the quiet sounds of running water caught her attention. Don’t tell me, She thought as her eyes slowly lowered to look at the crotch of Alma’s tight, black pants. Indeed, they were wet, and growing more so. A circle of wetness spread between her thighs. Alma’s stream grew much stronger- and louder- suddenly, and the circle of wetness grew extremely quickly. Glistening crescents formed on her inner thighs, and a yellow stain spread on the sleeping bag below her, creating an uneven, discolored patch. After what must have been a minute and a half, Alma's stream at last began to die down. A few more seconds, and she had completely finished wetting her pants. Hot steam billowed into the air from the hunter’s groin. Hazel’s face burned red with embarrassment for her friend- and for herself for having so closely observed it. She tried to convince herself that it was good that at least it wasn’t She who had wet themselves; yet she couldn’t find a way to be happy about it. Her heart grieved for Alma’s plight, and she’d give anything to trade places with her. “Oh, Alma...” She whispered with genuine sympathy. She sighed, and mentally braced herself, “Okay. Let’s get you… cleaned up,”. Her face red as a hot iron, Hazel shakily placed her hands onto the fastenings of Alma’s pants. Once they were undone, she began to slide them down. Very quickly, the red fabric of Alma’s panties became visible, and Hazel stopped in her tracks. This felt like such a violation of Alma’s body. Closing her eyes, she gave a sharp tug, yanking the trousers away from Alma’s rear. As Hazel struggled to get the pants past Alma’s knees, she decided she was being immature, and forced one eye open. In less than a second, her eye fell upon Alma’s most private space. Her panties, once a vibrant red, were now darkened from the crotch to her backside. Opening her other eye, Hazel managed to slide Alma’s cooling-yet-still-warm-with-urine trousers past her knees, then completely off of her person. She couldn’t help but look with admiration at the monster hunter’s well-muscled legs. Her thighs alone, wet and dripping as they were, looked like they packed enough of a punch to kill a man. Her reverie was ended when her eyes reached Alma’s soaked underwear, and she remembered that she was about to see much more of her friend’s body than either of them were comfortable with. Grimacing with shame, she slid her fingers into the waistband on Alma’s red panties, and gingerly began to lower them. Taking care not to stare at her friend’s privates, she quickened her pace, and swiftly removed her underwear. Taking a moment to compose herself, she retrieved a pair of white panties, and dressed her friend in them as quickly as she could. She panicked a bit when she remembered that Alma was still lying in a puddle, and the new panties would get wet. Using all of her comparatively meager muscles, she heaved her friend up, and slid her off the cot. The grass wouldn’t be half as comfortable, but it would be much dryer. That done, she looked around, dismayed at the fact that any pants or skirts she could have covered up Alma with had been scattered in the storm, or ruined by… Other substances. Sighing with sorrow for her friend’s obliterated dignity, Hazel lifted the jacket she had placed on top of her as a blanket, and repositioned it to cover her lower body. She then laid out Alma’s pants on a rock that was sitting in the sunlight. They wouldn’t smell amazing, but at least they’d be dry. Alma’s unnatural sleep had seemingly deepened to a frightening degree, as she barely stirred at all through the whole changing. She needed to make that potion for her, soon. She had to do something. With great urgency, she crushed ingredient after ingredient into a fine paste, then mixed it with water. The end result was a foamy, pale-green liquid that was much to thick to really be called a liquid. Hazel lifted the bowl up, and sniffed the mixture, gagging slightly. She didn’t even want to think about how it might taste. Carrying the bowl as carefully as though it were an infant child, Hazel walked over to her sleeping friend. Slowly, gently, she lowered herself, and moved to bowl to Alma’s lips. “You’re going to kill her, you know,” Came an unknown voice from behind her. Hazel shouted in surprise and jumped. Some medicine splashed out of the bowl, landing on Alma’s cheek and sliding down. As cautiously as her panic would allow, Hazel set down the bowl, and lifted up the crossbow. She spun around, and leveled it the intruder. The rattling of the crossbow gave away how much Hazel was shaking. Yet, the person before her was not the bandit or witch she was anticipating. A young woman, barely an adult stood there. She wore an old, dark orange dress; its hem only reaching down to her knees. A long, dark crimson jacket hung far past the end of her dress, nearly down to her ankles. Old leather boots covered her slender legs. In her right hand she clutched a wooden staff that stood perfectly straight, until it curved into the shape of a crescent moon at its top. Numerous ornaments and trinkets adorned her staff. Atop her head sat a black, wide-brimmed hat. Below it rested the tired, sunken eyes and curly black hair of a strange woman. “W-who are you?!” Hazel demanded, lifting the crossbow a little, the clik-clak noise it made a reminder of its presence. Her tired eyes slowly drifted down to look at the crossbow, then back up to its wielder, “I’m much less dangerous to either of you than you are to her,” She said in a condescending voice. “What do you mean by that?” “I mean that that potion would have turned your friend’s short nap into a permanent one,” The young woman intoned in a deadpan that almost sounded like Alma’s own way of speaking. On seeing Hazel’s confusion, the stranger sighed, “That potion doesn’t just numb pain. It numbs everything, and often makes people sleep for long hours. Couple that with oranzelg venom, and you have a formula for the longest sleep you’ll ever take,”. Hazel eye’s widened, and she lowered the crossbow a bit. Did I really… Almost kill Alma…? She thought to herself in horror. Another, almost equally terrifying thought creeped into her head, “Wait, how did you even know what potion it was?”. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time,” “W-why?! For how long?!” Hazel was growing indignant. “Long enough to see the both of you void your bowels in your clothes during the fight last night,” Shame rose up in Hazel, but she crushed it down with anger and confusion, “As for why...” She looked up, and seemed to think of a response for a second, “Well, wouldn’t you want to keep an eye on an intruder in your home?”. “What do you mean ‘your home’?” “These woods. They’re my home, in which you are rudely trespassing,” The girl’s voice took on an annoyed tone. “Well pardon us, but we didn’t exactly plan on visiting, you know!” The girl was getting on Hazel’s nerves, now. It showed in her voice. “And I don’t plan on entertaining you for long,” The girl’s sunken eyes shifted ever-so-slightly to express anger, then returned to their normal, dreary state, “Let me heal your friend so you can leave. You’re upsetting the spirits here,”. Yeah well, they upset me pretty badly, too… Hazel inspected the girl for a moment. Numerous potion bottles and satchels rested on her waist, giving the impression of someone skilled in alchemy. “Fine,” She relented, lowering the crossbow, “Just please, help her. We’ll leave just as soon as she can move,”. The girl replied with a curt nod, then walked towards the sleeping hunter. With the deftness of a trained expert, she produced reagent after reagent, working some into Alma’s mouth, and some onto her wound. Hazel could only watch in amazement. After only a few minutes, it was over, and the girl stood. “She’ll wake up in just a few hours, with no traces of the venom left. It'll be as if she was never attacked,” Hazel wanted to hug the stranger. As if sensing Hazel’s growing fondness of her, the girl quickly collected her belongings and walked past her, “Just make sure you’ve left as soon as you can,” The girl advised, “The entities here do not care for you, and they will make as much clear,”. “Thank you,” Hazel said, and she meant it. “Mm-hm” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace. Hazel sat near her friend, crossbow at the ready. She wasn’t completely sure that she trusted this stranger, but if she had wanted to kill them, she had missed some very good opportunities. Enough that Hazel figured she was telling the truth about her cure working within the hour. The sun was setting. Hazel became aware of her every breath. She could feel sweat forming on her forehead, and a pit in her stomach. If Alma didn’t wake up now, then she’d be facing the monsters here alone. The thought brought an uncomfortable sensation to light: she had to piss. She’d been so busy taking care of Alma, she hadn’t been able to relieve herself even once all day. Twice on this journey she’d wet herself, and once she’d soiled herself. She was not eager to repeat either incident, but she refused to leave Alma’s side. She was the only thing keeping Alma alive, and she was determined not to get caught with her pants literally down. She’d happily piss and shit her pants then and there if it meant she wouldn’t be distracted. Of course, she still hoped her desperation didn’t reach that point. At least her bowels were still largely empty. If she had to find a bright side to having crapped her panties, it would be that it meant she wouldn’t have the “resources” to do it again later. A sudden, loud rustling caught her attention, prompting her to jump to her feet. Something moved in the distance, and it moved hard enough to be heard. Once again hearing the rattling of the crossbow, she tried to calm herself by thinking that it was just the girl, continuing to watch them. Perhaps she had tripped and fallen, and that was all? A loud, fearsome growl put an end that that theory. Something was here. Something not nice. Hazel’s legs began to quiver, and she looked down at Alma with pleading eyes; Please wake up please wake up please wake up, was all she could think. Another sound, much less anticipated, echoed through the woods a short moment later. A panicked scream, definitely from a girl. In that moment, time seemed to slow down. She remembered everything she’d said about being braver, but, at the same time, a little voice in her head tried to convince her not to go out, because it was likely already too late. As her mind raced and her body shook, she gathered her will, and slapped herself across her right cheek. She could never live with herself if she repaid the girl who saved Alma by letting her die. Steeling herself, she readied the crossbow, made sure she had one the silver knives, and moved towards the source of the screaming. She hated to leave Alma behind again, but it wouldn’t be for long. Moving between tall trees and through thick bushes, Hazel followed after the sounds of growling and whimpering. After only a minute or two of running, she found the source of both. Indeed, the screaming was from the girl. Her eyes, still baggy and tired, had finally come alive, but they were filled with fear. The source of the growling drew much more of her attention, however. At first, she thought it was only a wolf. A large wolf, but still just a wolf. As she looked at, though, it became abundantly clear that it was a creature of unholy origin. It had the posture and general body shape of a very large wolf, but its bone structure was much more sharp and pointed, giving the creature an almost jagged appearance. Speaking of sharp and pointy, numerous spines jutted from its back, rising several inches into the air. Its fangs and claws were substantially longer than any wolf’s should be. Its gray fur was rough and patchy. It seemed neither the beast nor the girl had seen Hazel, yet. The wolf demon slowly walked towards the girl, whose normally still body shook heavily. She backed up until her back hit against a tree. Realizing there was nowhere to go, the girl stared at the wolf in utter terror. Tears ran down her cheeks. That wasn’t all, Hazel realized, as she saw a dark circle appear on the front of the girl’s orange skirt. It spread out several inches, and only a second later, Hazel saw the stream of piss fall between the girl’s legs. It splattered loudly on the ground, and little droplets of urine splashed onto the girl’s legs. A few little streams ran down her legs. I’m so scared… Hazel thought, But I have to help her! The wolf hadn’t seen her, yet. This would be her one chance to take a perfect shot. She shouldered the weapon, took aim, and fired. Splitting the air apart, the bolt sailed towards its mark, and buried itself firmly in the side of the wolf’s chest. It howled in agony. Both the demon and the girl turned now to notice Hazel. The girl had a look of disbelief in her eyes. She could see steam rising from the wound she’d inflicted on the beast, meaning the silver was taking effect, but the wolf didn’t die. It was clearly in pain, but it was not dying. And now it was looking at her. As Hazel took a step back, she felt her thighs rub together, and noted with some satisfaction that they were dry. She at least hadn’t pissed herself yet. She thought this must be how Alma felt during the fight the oranzelg- completely, utterly terrified, but knowing you have to do something. The wolf sprinted at her, and Hazel’s eyes went wide. Trusting her instincts, she slammed the crossbow into the wolf’s maw as it leapt for her. While the wolf clawed and chewed on the weapon in confusion, Hazel ran over to the girl, who still had little droplets of pee falling between her legs. “Are you okay?” Hazel breathlessly asked, amazed she could still form words. It would appear that the same could not be said for the girl, who only whimpered. She seemed unharmed, just… wet. Her eyes were still sunken and tired, but behind them, Hazel could see true and honest gratitude. She felt a sense of pride well up inside of her, a kind she hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever. It was accompanied by a surge of confidence, I will get her out of here, and I will keep Alma safe, she swore to herself. A loud roar from behind her reminded Hazel that she hadn’t really saved anybody yet. It also reminded her of her rather pressing need to urinate, as she released a short stream of piss into her pants. A wet streak formed on her crotch before travelling down her right thigh about two inches. While that was all that showed on her pants, she could feel a few droplets racing all the way down her legs. She also remembered, now, that she had discarded the crossbow to temporarily stun the wolf. She turned about, and saw the wolf demon slowly approaching them. Unlike the cold, emotionless eyes of the oranzelg, this creature’s eyes were full of hate. It wasn’t just doing this to eat, it wanted to kill them. Hazel could feel her resolve- and bladder- weaken as she faced the creature. Shaking slightly, she drew her silver knife. It wasn’t much, but it was her last line of defense. Psshh… As it approached, Hazel felt herself lose another spurt of urine. The wet mark on her pants grew a couple of inches. “I-I have s-something...” the girl quietly stated as she hid behind Hazel. Hazel fought the urge to turn and look at whatever she had, knowing the wolf would seize on that opportunity. “A-a flask that m-might kill it,” That caught Hazel’s attention. “What do you need me to do?” She asked urgently. “J-just hold it still, then r-run when I hit it with the flask,” It sounded as though the girl’s courage was slowly returning. But still, Just hold it still?! Hazel thought in disbelief. She was certain that she was going to completely piss her pants if the thing got any closer. Of course, Hazel knew she certainly couldn’t kill it alone, so whatever the girl had might be their only shot. She took the deepest breath she could, and took one step forward. Psshh… Once again, the wetness between her legs grew as she re-warmed it with her urine. The darkened patch was now a few inches in diameter, and short, wet streaks had begun their journey down her legs. Fighting the urges to vomit, pee her pants, run, or all three, Hazel sidestepped while continuing her slow advance towards the beast. It took its attention off of the girl, and gave the girl a clean shot at throwing the flask. Her heart beat so hard she thought it might erupt out of her chest. She was certain that if she’d had anything to eat today, it’d be sitting in her underwear right now. The wolf seemed to pick up on this. Perhaps it was finally noticing that she’d been slowly pissing herself, for it lunged towards her, its great and mighty fangs bared. Time seemed to slow down as Hazel tried to take stock of everything that was happening. Closing one of her eyes in fear, she half-blindly swung the knife in front of her. The blade missed, and she felt the wolf’s horrible maw enclose on her arm. It bit down, hard. As this happened, the girl’s flask was flung through the air, and crashed against the wolf’s side, shattering, and spilling its contents. A viscous, purple liquid spewed across its side, making sizzling noises and generating plumes of steam. The wolf released Hazel, and howled in pain. It fell to the ground, thrashing in pain. Now was Hazel’s chance. Her right arm was damaged from the wolf’s bite, and she could barely move her hand. She quickly took the knife into her non-wounded hand, fell to her knees, and plunged the silver blade into the wolf demon’s eye. It’s thrashing was finally silenced. As Hazel panted, her whole body felt numb. Feeling slowly returned to her body, and, shamefully, the thing that made her realize this were the rivers of warm wetness pouring down her legs. Looking down at her groin, she did indeed bear witness to a rapidly expanding urine stain. She felt her warm liquids travelling down her legs, creating thick, dark stains down her thighs. Felt the heat lick her rear as the wetness caressed almost every inch of her lower body. Her body was still not completely under control, as fear, shock, and adrenaline rampaged through her system. She grimaced as she felt something slip out of her backside. She was soiling herself, with what very little was left in her body. It wasn’t much, just a small amount, not even enough for a bulge to appear. But still, she was quite privy to the fact that she had, once again, defecated on herself. Her embarrassment was immediately forgotten as the numbness left her right arm, and she was reminded of the wound she had sustained. Utter agony surged through her, and she screamed. The mysterious girl rushed over to her. She was saying something, it seemed as though she was possibly trying to comfort Hazel, but the pain was too intense. Giving up on talking, the girl retrieved one of the last of her potion flasks, and deftly removed its lid. Holding Hazel’s head with one hand, she poured the potion into the merchant’s mouth with the other. Hazel’s pained screaming slowly died away as she slipped into unconsciousness, the world around her filling with blackness, then falling away. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slowly, very slowly, Hazel’s eyes opened. She felt groggy, and utterly exhausted. She entertained the idea of asking for “just five more minutes,”. She rolled over a little, but shot upright as a spike of pain ran through her right arm. Gasping sharply, she looked down at her destroyed appendage. She was confused when she saw clean, white bandaging adorning most of her forearm. Her wound hurt, pretty badly, but nearly as much as it did the last time she was awake. It occurred to her that she was inspecting the wound in the sunlight. It was morning, now. Did she help me? Hazel wondered. She sat all the way up, and crossed her legs. Her ever-so-slightly damp legs. She glanced downwards and noticed that she was still wearing her peed-in pants. Wiggling her butt a little, she could even still feel the bit of mess left in her panties. “Uuugh...” She groaned. “Sorry,” Came the mysterious girl’s voice, catching Hazel off guard. She looked around until her eyes fell upon the girl, who was sitting near a campfire that had a pot of something good-smelling cooking over it. “I would have changed you, but well...” The girl’s tired eyes looked away, and her pale cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment, “I didn’t know where your spare clothes were,” she said, making an excuse for herself. “Don’t worry about it,” Hazel replied, her voice hoarse from her screaming. She remembered how she felt when changing Alma, and could hardly fault the girl for not wanting to do the same with a total stranger. Even if it meant she might have a rash now. “I, er, tried to put you in the sunlight, at least. You know, to dry off,” Hazel noticed that girl looked even more tired than before. Has she been awake all night for us? She wondered. And speaking of drying off, Hazel looked to the girl’s own clothes. Her orange dress had been dried and cleaned, leaving little trace of the fact it had been heavily urinated in. “Wait, where’s Alma? Where’s my friend?” Hazel asked as more of her senses returned to her. “She’s fine, she’s fine,” The girl answered, “She was… much heavier than you are. I couldn’t move her, and I could barely move you, so I’ve been going back and forth to check on the both of you,”. Hazel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you… for the help last night,” The girl said, with probably as much gratitude as her voice would allow. “After you helped my friend,” Hazel began, looking the girl in the eyes, “It was the least I could do,”. The girl smiled, “Still, you got hurt to save me, and I won’t forget that,” She walked over, and offered her hand to help pull Hazel to her feet. “M-my name’s Eliza...” She said as Hazel stood. She sounded fairly unaccustomed to saying it. “Lovely to meet you, Eliza,” Hazel flashed Eliza a smile, “My name is Hazel, and my friend is Alma,”. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With Hazel ambulatory once more, the two packed up Eliza’s miniature camp and returned to Alma. Hazel noted several little objects dangling from the branches and bushes surrounding the crash site of her carriage. They resembled windchimes and dreamcatchers. “Those are charms. They keep monsters away,” Eliza explained when she noticed Hazel looking at them. The two set down near Alma, who Eliza insisted should awaken at any second, and set about eating the stew that Eliza had prepared. The two found little to chat about, but any conversation was soon ended when, at last, Alma began to wake up.
  6. Wetting/Messing Scenes in Games

    The fact that (In KOTOR, at least) the Sith canonically have a Force ability to make people wet/soil themselves was always an exciting concept. Also, while I haven't been able to reproduce this, I've been informed that if you get into a fight with a much higher level enemy in Hyperdimension Neptunia, Neptune might ask for a change of underwear at the start of the fight.
  7. Wet in the Wastelands

    I'm liking the preview drawing. Very excited to see where you take the series, and what this side series is all about.
  8. Fire Emblem: Tales of Journey

    Agreed.
  9. I'm really enjoying this, so far. I'm especially fond of the quantity of fear accidents.
  10. Home alone for the weekend

    I vote for drinking some coffee, then seeing what effects the home-gym has on your bladder.
  11. Kisekae Peeing (my attempt)

    Certainly not bad. I always thought there was something charming about Kisekae omo. What's the website to make them?
  12. List of female wetting scenes in movies/shows

    If we're posting more stuff here, I found some. There's three separate wettings in Made in Abyss- all from the same character. I only found the first one to be "palatable", as the other 2 were kinda... intense. Omo aside, though, it's an absolutely brilliant anime. In episode 6 at 14:50, Riko wakes up to go pee, but is stopped by a creepy monster. She runs back and jumps into bed with her friend, then promptly wets the bed out of fear/desperation. There's a cute scene after of them talking about, and Reg asking why she had to wet his bed. In episode 11 at 15:55, Reg enters into Nanachi's house to find her stripping the pants off of an unconscious Riko. Reg freaks out, but Nanachi explains that Riko had just peed herself while she was unconscious. She then tasks Reg with cleaning her soiled clothing. The context of why she was unconscious made the scene more sad than anything, for me, though. And lastly, in episode 13 at 39:17, Riko is getting these mushroom things cut off of her arm, which apparently hurts extremely bad, as she wets herself when they start cutting a big one. We see wetness seeping into the mattress she's lying on. Although this scene is actually a little fucked up for my tastes, maybe someone will like it. Like I said, I could only really get into the first, as it's the only one that's more or less played for laughs, while the other two instances are either: A. Directly following some horrific moment, or B. Are the horrific moment. The anime is still outstanding, though, and I'd recommend watching the whole thing.
  13. What is your fav anime

    I cannot decide only one, but I narrowed it down to three: Wolf Children Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Made in Abyss As for favorite characters, I'd go with the Laughing Man from Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. And Nanachi from Made in Abyss. And Ed from Cowboy Beepboop.
  14. A Brave Heroine's Untold Story

    I was just a lurker on that site, so I didn't really do anything with my account. I've been trying to look for some other good stories from the site, and I remember there being more than a few good Samus ones.
  15. Journey to Arnwick

    I meant to have this posted some time ago, but some drama at work got someone fired, and I had to pick up all their hours, so I've had almost no time to write. Finally, though, I got it done, and here is part 2 of the Journey to Arnwick. Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thunder rumbled overhead, and the winds were picking up. Hazel soon understood why Alma always tied her hair back into a bun, as her own hair was turned into a series of little blonde whips against her face. Before long, she grew too annoyed by this, and pulled her hair back to tie it into a ponytail. She glanced upwards as she fixed her hair, into the dark and ominous sky. When the storm finally hit, it would hit hard. The carriage could withstand storms just fine, but she’d heard lots of tales that monsters grow stronger and deadlier in the dark, and she wondered if storms might affect them, as well. Nervously, she clutched at her red dress tightly, bunching it up in her hands. “Hmmm,” Alma intoned. Hazel looked over to see the hunter was looking into the stormy sky, albeit with a much more grim look on her face. Reaching down to her belt, she fiddled with one of her knives until it came loose from her belt. She handed the weapon, sheathe and all, to Hazel, “Hold on to this for a while,” she said casually. Hazel pulled the blade from its leather housing, and was not at all shocked to see that it was silver. She looked over to her friend and asked “Is something wrong?” “Nothing yet,” Alma didn’t appear to have any intention of expanding on the answer. Hazel would’ve been upset by this, but she honestly doubted she wanted to know what Alma might be worried about. However, if they were going to be running from or fighting monsters in the near future, she needed urinate again; and she had no intention of doing so in her clothes a second time. “Alma...” She began, blushing lightly. “Yes?” “I, er, need to,” she coughed nervously, “relieve myself,” her blush deepened. Alma seemed to consider this for a moment, thinking to herself. She glanced around the surrounding forest before answering, “Alright, I’ll bring us to a stop just up ahead and you can find a tree,”. “Thank you,” Hazel replied quickly, grateful at their businesslike approach to the topic. A moment later, the carriage came to a stop, and the two climbed out. They didn’t go far from the road at all, settling on a spot a mere few feet from the carriage. Still wary after her last expedition into the woods, Hazel clutched the knife tightly, half expecting some monster to jump from behind any one of the trees. “Go ahead, I’ll keep watch,” Alma said reassuringly. Hazel turned about to see the hunter leaning against a tree, crossbow in hand. “W-well, don’t… don’t look!” Hazel was already mortified enough. “I’ll look away, Hazy, just go,” the hunter made a show of turning her head and using her hand to block her vision. Still red in the face, Hazel began to hike up her dress and squat. She quickly yanked her panties down, wishing for the ordeal to be over as soon as possible. The cold air shocked her as her privates were exposed. She glanced back over to her friend, to see Alma keeping her word, and looking at basically anything but her. Still, she had to force her urine out. It seemed as though all sound in the world had purposely gone mute just to make the sound of her peeing all the louder. Her cheeks glowed bright red as a loud psssssssssshhhhhhhhh filled the silence. When she was done, she realized she would have nothing to wipe with. She felt sure that Alma was growing impatient, and she didn’t want to be away from the cart any longer than necessary, so she just pulled her underwear back up and lowered her dress. She grimaced as she felt a final few drops of urine soak into her panties. “Done?” Alma asked, casually. “Y-yeah, done...” Hazel replied, still blushing. She fidgeted slightly in her damp panties. “Good, hold this,” Alma said, thrusting the crossbow towards Hazel. “Wha- why?” Hazel inquired as she took the heavy crossbow into her arms. “I have to piss, too,” Alma had already begun to drop her pants midway through the sentence. Hazel squealed in shock as she turned around to give her friend privacy. Like her own release, it seemed the world had gone quiet just so she could her the pitter-patter of Alma’s urine hitting the ground. “Done?” Hazel asked, not yet turning back around. “Done,” Alma answered, as she refastened her pants. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed. The sky had grown dark and the thunder was loud and frequent. Mercifully, the rain had not begun to fall in earnest, yet. The occasional ambassador of the coming torrent would fall from the sky here or there, but the two were still dry. A small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless. Alma shifted suddenly, drawing Hazel’s attention. Hazel looked over to see Alma’s eyes flitting about the surrounding woods with no small amount of worry. Hazel felt that she should be afraid; anything that could put Alma on edge was surely more than a match for her. Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t know what Alma was so concerned about; perhaps it was the presence of a talented monster hunter that kept her calm. Either way, Hazel decided it was time she knew what the problem was, “Alma, what are you so worried about?” Alma’s eyes widened when Hazel spoke, as if she had forgotten that she wasn’t alone, “Huh?! Oh, it’s nothing,” she gave a quick smile to Hazel, but she could tell it was not genuine. “I know something’s wrong, this is the most nervous you’ve been this entire trip,” Hazel wasn’t an expert at sounding stern, but she did her best. The hunter sighed, then seemed to contemplate. “Fine,” she said, as she resumed her watch over their surroundings, “An oranzelg might be close by”. “A… A what?” “It’s a bit like a werewolf,” Alma turned and looked Hazel in the eyes; her face was stone cold, her tone was serious, “But it has a more insect-like face, and a large tail tipped with a stinger. They sleep a lot, but rain has been known to agitate them awake. They’re extremely deadly, and there’s several of them around these parts,” Hazel suddenly decided that she might help keep watch. She turned her head to do so, but Alma continued with the explanation, “Though they have a similar frame to werewolves, they are different creatures. Oranzelgs prefer to use their stinger to envenom prey, then drag them off so they can eat them in the comfort of their lairs-” “Enough!” Hazel said, finding her stern voice, “I don’t need to know any more,” Alma looked into Hazel’s eyes again, and must have deduced that her explanation was frightening her, “Sorry, Hazy,” After a moment of tense silence, she added “Just… just be careful, ok?” There was genuine concern in Alma’s voice. “Don’t worry, I will be,” Mere moments after their conversation had ended, the two both felt numerous raindrops begin to pelt their bodies. Remembering what Alma had said about the rain angering the creatures, Hazel looked fearfully into the sky, wishing she could just will the storm away. Despite her hopes, the rain began to fall. And fall. And fall. And fall. Hazel yelped in pain as the droplets of rain slammed into her like rocks. The rain was so fierce that she worried that it may tear her carriage to shreds. She refused to look up for fear that she might drown in the deluge. Raising her arms to cover her face, she turned to Alma, but her vision was swiftly covered by Alma’s long coat, as it was thrown over her. “Put it on!!” She heard her friend scream through the cacophony of sounds the rain had brought with it. Though she was loathe to take away Alma’s protection from the pelting rain, she felt beaten and bruised all over, and she wasn’t going to pass up the extra layer of protection. She wriggled her arms into the coat which was many sizes too large for her, then pulled the back of it up, over her head, like a hood. Much of her body was still exposed, or only lightly covered, unshielded from the hostile storm. “What’s happening?!” Hazel yelled, her voice shaky with panic. The horse pulling the carriage reared up, fiercely whinnying it’s complaints about the current situation. Alma began tugging and yanking on the reins, attempting to bring the animal back under control. It was no use. The horse began struggling violently against its restraints. Something, not just the rain, seemed to have frightened it. With no hesitation, it veered from the path, sprinting as fast as it could into the woods. The carriage rattled and shook, creaking as though it were going to split apart at any second. The horse dodged and weaved between the trees, slamming the carriage into them as it passed. The sounds of splintering wood and the impacts of fallen supplies were unmistakeable. Finally, the pieces of the vehicle that held the animal to it were snapped apart, the reins discarded, and the horse sprinted off into the mist that had gathered. The carriage’s momentum slid it forward, until it collided with a tree, then tipped over. Hazel screamed as she fell from the carriage. She felt arms wrap around her, and hold her tightly. Her fall was broken as Alma shielded her as best as she could. She spun around to behold the hunter lying on the ground, still holding onto Hazel. Hazel stood, and, using both of her hands and most of her strength, pulled Alma up to her feet. Cold fear surged once more through Hazel as she noticed the eerie, blue-green lights shining in the mists, their progenitors fully obscured. Hazel counted no fewer than four of the spirits. Even through the deafening rain, the dreadful wail of each of them formed into an unholy chorus. Flashbacks of her first encounter with a ghost sped through her mind, and before she was even aware of it, she sent a long jet of urine through her panties. Her crotch warmed suddenly, and the short stream of piss fell between her thighs before it impacted the ground, splattering onto her legs. Following her gaze, Alma turned around to see the spirits, too. Alma looked around in panic. Her eyes were wide, and they darted around frantically. Her hair that had once been tied in a bun now hung loose, billowing about in the wind. She looked disheveled, she looked worried, she looked… scared. Before long, Alma’s eyes landed on her target: her crossbow. She moved to grab it, but was swiftly stopped as Hazel hugged her, shaking and sobbing into her chest. Hazel had sworn that she would heed Alma’s encouragement, that she would do better, be braver. But now, faced with all this, she just wanted to curl up and cry. After the two held each other for a moment, Alma broke off from the embrace. She bent over, and retrieved the silver dagger from the dirt. She grabbed Hazel’s hand and forced the weapon’s handle into her palm. She then picked up her crossbow and its quiver. “Stay here,” Alma said forcefully. Hazel looked into her eyes again, and she could swear that she saw that same desire to curl up and cry in the hunter’s eyes. She wondered if Alma had pissed herself, as well, but they were both soaked from the rain- it was impossible to tell. Alma ran off, into the mists. Within only seconds, the ghostly wailing had turned into a series of piercing screeches. Lights flared and flashed about, signifying that combat had begun. Hazel curled up against the wreckage of her carriage, the canopy of trees overhead shielding her from much of the rain. She clutched the dagger tightly, closed her eyes tightly, and prayed for Alma’s safety. She had been pleading with God for at least several minutes when she heard the first footfall. A loud thunk, thunk, thunk indicated the presence of something big. Something approaching the ruined carriage. More footsteps, each louder and louder. A slow, rumbling growl nearly stopped Hazel’s heart. Her groin grew warm once more, and she buried her hand in her crotch. She was terrified beyond belief, but she was determined not to wet herself again. Even so, with each footstep, she felt a little more liquid wet her underwear. The carriage she leaned upon shook suddenly, as though something were climbing atop it. The creature was certain to see her in only a few precious seconds. Steeling herself, she shot forward, stumbling heavily over some roots, but she regained her footing, and sprinted into the mist as fast as her legs would carry her. No sooner had she taken off than she heard a furious snarl from the creature. Following the snarl, she heard rapid, heavy footfalls chasing after her. The monster was gaining on her, there was no doubt. It would catch her, if she didn’t do something, anything. Closing her eyes, she whirled around, and lashed out with her dagger. The blade met with heavy resistance, and she felt something warm and wet spray onto her hand. Opening her eyes, she saw that she had plunged the dagger into the right eye of a large monster. It was a hulking creature, the size of two men. It had an almost humanoid body, with two arms, and two legs. Brown and black fur covered it completely. As humanoid as its body may have been, its face was anything but. Emotionless, black eyes stared at Hazel, and two large, fang-like protrusions, similar to a spider’s, hung from its face. A thick tail that terminated in a dripping stinger waved about behind it. It threw its head back, knife still embedded, howling in pain, thrashing about as the silver did its work. Hazel wanted to run, or to continue attacking with the knife, but she was petrified. Her knees started to knock together, and she had completely forgotten about her bodily functions. Steam rose from her womanhood and legs as her white panties were flooded with piss. Her posture had placed her dress in the way of the torrent, and the stain developed rapidly between her legs, running down in rivulets. Perhaps the adrenaline had aided her sense of awareness, because Hazel was acutely aware of every little drop of urine sliding down her legs. Clawing at the dagger, the monster finally ripped it out, roaring in agony. It returned its attention to Hazel, who could still feel her courage draining into her panties. It began a slow trot towards her, now wary. But it had nothing to fear; Hazel had lost her first and last line of defense. She fell to the ground, sitting on her knees. Piss was still dribbling out of her, but her body had found something else to evacuate. A firm log of shit slipped into her panties, followed by a mound of softer mess. They tented and bulged quickly. Her adrenaline had cursed her to smell, feel, and hear every part of her accident. The warm, soft mess pressed against her ass, smoothing out and spreading. The smell drifted up to her nose. And the sound. A wet squelching filled her ears, and continued as her body pushed all its contents out into her waiting underwear. As embarassed as she would have been about having wet and soiled herself, the threat of imminent death was a much bigger concern for her right now. The monster raised its claw, preparing to strike. A mere instant before it could strike, a crossbow bolt soared through the air, and buried itself in the beast’s neck. Like with the dagger, it screamed, and reared back. Hazel dared to look at where the bolt had come from, and smiled wider and harder than ever in her life when she saw a battered- but alive- Alma coming to her rescue. Before the beast could remove the silver from its body, Alma launched another bolt into its chest, then another into its belly. Perhaps the monster realized it was losing. Perhaps it realized it was doomed, for it broke into a suicidal charge towards Alma. Hazel cried out in grief when she saw the beast’s stinger slice through the air, and embed itself in Alma’s left shoulder. The hunter screamed in pain, but brought her crossbow to bear, and fired one last bolt into the monster’s face. It roared a slow roar, gradually weakening and quieting, until the beast collapsed, dead. Alma, clutched at her wound, but seemed to completely forget about it when she noticed Hazel. She ran over, and scooped up the young merchant into a tight embrace. Either not knowing or not caring about Hazel’s less-than-clean state. “Hazy...” Alma muttered, her voice hoarse and exhausted, “Hazy, thank God you’re alive,” “Thank you, Alma!” Hazel sobbed, “Thank you so much!” Their hug was ended when Alma yelped in pain and backed off to clutch at the wound on her shoulder. Hazel realized the implications, and her relief swiftly vanished, “Alma...” she struggled to use her voice, it was so shaky, “A-are you...” “I’ll...” Alma looked into Hazel’s eyes, but she looked just as worried, “I’ll be fine. Remember how I said they like to envenom, then eat their prey? It’s just paralysis, I’ll be unconscious, but fine,” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself just as much as Hazel. The two began their trek back to their destroyed carriage. They knew the vehicle’s traveling days were done, but perhaps there were supplies to be salvaged. Halfway through the walk back, Alma had grown woozy, and needed Hazel’s support to walk. When they reached the carriage, Alma simply slumped against a tree. Hazel began rummaging through the bags and boxes that had been strewn about. “Hazy...” Alma’s voice was still rough, and now she sounded half-asleep. “Yes?” Hazel turned to her friend without delay. “Fish me out some underwear, please,” “Er, why?” In her usual deadpan voice, Alma answered, “I shit myself when I saw the oranzelg,”. At least I’m not alone… Hazel thought to herself. She retrieved a red pair of panties, and walked towards Alma. The hunter stood up, facing away from Hazel. She could indeed see a bulge in the seat of Alma’s pants. She hadn’t defecated in her clothes quite as much as Hazel had, but she still had definitely ruined her underwear. Shamelessly, Alma dropped her pants, and wriggled her feet out of them, causing Hazel to blush furiously. Seeing her now exposed panties, more than a few logs were plainly visible, creating an uneven lump right between her cheeks. Discarding her full panties, Alma used some leaves to wipe herself as much as possible, then slid the new red panties up, then her- likely smelly- pants were slid back up. Alma sat back down under the tree, her head lolled for a brief second before she seemed to fight back to consciousness, “Hazy...” it sounded as though it hurt her to speak, “I’m going to… be unconscious for… maybe a day... ” ragged gasps for breath interrupted her words, “In the pocket of the coat I gave you… my notebook… read it...” her message given, she slumped over, completely fainted. Hazel was grief stricken to see her friend like this, but she needed to heed her instructions. She felt around the coat that she still wore, until she discovered a small notebook in one of the inside pockets. Opening it, Hazel saw that it was more-or-less a survival guide, a massive compilation of notes on what’s safe to eat or drink, what creatures abound and where, how to ward them away, the kind of experience that comes from a lifetime of doing this sort of thing, condensed into a small book. Hazel felt overwhelmed. She opened to the first page and began reading. For a little comfort, she sat down on the ground. She winced in surprise and discomfort as she felt the squishing sensation below her bottom. Oh right, She thought, I soiled myself. She closed the notebook and placed it back in her pocket. Following after Alma’s example, she began searching for a change of clothes, the disgusting mess now pressing up against her backside uncomfortably. As she searched, a beam of light crossed her face. Hazel looked up, and smiled ever so slightly to see that the rain had stopped. A small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless.