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DsGSilver

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DsGSilver last won the day on April 8 2017

DsGSilver had the most liked content!

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About DsGSilver

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    Bursting

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  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Bedwetting
    Crossdressing
    Hypnosis
    Messing
    Tomboys

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  1. That was really good! I was also wondering if you were gonna do more League stories.
  2. If male wetting content is ten times rarer than female content, then male messing is ten times rarer than that. It's unfortunate. I only really know of a couple male messing stories, and they're pretty weird, even by my standards. Palutena's Trap Just Another Hex Like I said, these are weird and contain elements of feminization and crossdressing, but they do have male messing. While it has no messing, I do recommend The Trouble With Resurrection for lots of Link from Breath of the Wild wetting himself. Afraid I'm not aware of much more male messing fiction, aside from my own stuff.
  3. If you're in the Council Discord, I may have posted it there before. Otherwise, it may just be because it's set in Present's setting, with several of his characters.
  4. Many of you probably know Present's stories March of the Valkyries and The Conqueress. If you haven't read them, they're wonderful stories, full of messing and fear accidents. We've been collaborating on more stories set in this universe, featuring the character Ulrika. And, like it says in the title, there's some extra art by Livinginfinite at the end. Hope you enjoy! Virago Queen: Thunder “We’ll be arriving at the war camp within the hour, Your Majesty,” One of Ulrika’s royal guards informed her. “If all has gone according to plan, the fort should have fallen.” “That such a small obstacle has troubled us for this long is an embarrassment,” Ulrika responded coldly. A single, understaffed, lightly-armed Gothian fort had stalled a major military operation for weeks on end, and Ulrika had grown tired of the commander’s excuses. Redirecting a larger army, she intended to crush the fort into ruin on that very day. That army had been embattled with the fort since dawn, and should have achieved victory well before her arrival. God save them if they, too, have failed me, the queen thought bitterly. Along with a small contingent of royal guards, her assistant Iris also rode alongside her. The young lady was being her usual quiet, reserved self. Her face bore a somber, pensive look that Ulrika knew reflected Iris’ desire to be as far from the site of a battle as possible. She was a gentle soul, and appreciated being as far away from danger, and from the more gruesome side of nature as possible. The roar of distant thunder demanded Ulrika’s attention. For a moment, she thought it might’ve been cannonfire. Breathing a sigh of relief, she observed as a blanket of clouds released a deluge upon the land some ways away. Her bladder felt a kinship with the storm, and threatened to release its own deluge. She’d been riding for hours, and had not one opportunity to relieve herself. Certainly no opportunity presented itself where she could relieve herself without exposing her most closely held secret: the large diaper wrapped snugly around her waist. Ulrika had convinced herself that she’d be able to hold it until they arrived at the war camp, but she quickly lost faith in that plan. Even though they were so close, she knew that her generals could hardly wait to inundate her with meetings and discussions. It would be at least another few hours before she had a moment to herself. Exhaling in annoyance, the Virago Queen opted to release her hold then and there, and at the very least end one of her discomforts. Iris had ever proven to be a faithful and loyal confidant, and would be more than happy to change her later. With a sharp inhale, she let go. Almost immediately, the warmth of her piss flooded the front of her diaper. The hot urine filled the space between her thighs, and then reached her rear. She hated the sensation of it, but she couldn’t resist the blissful smile that came with the relief. The garment began to swell, and forced her legs apart ever so slightly. The queen’s bladder continued to empty itself, and she began to worry that it could leak. “The camp is just ahead, now, Your Majesty,” One of her escorts said. His announcement caught her entirely by surprise, and her stream of piss momentarily doubled in its intensity. “Ah, e-excellent,” Ulrika replied. She tried to remain stately and regal, but it proved difficult to do while she was actively urinating in her pants. “All of you, ride ahead and prepare them for my arrival.” “At once, Your Majesty,” With a hard spur of his horse, the guardsman took off, the others following closely behind him. At last, her bladder was empty. The diaper between her legs was swollen and soaking, and she feared it could leak at any moment. “Iris,” She said, in a commanding yet gentle tone. The young woman jumped slightly in surprise, “Y-yes?” “When we find a moment to ourselves, I shall require your assistance with a delicate matter.” For a long time, Iris had served the queen in this way, and Ulrika knew her message was clear. Even so, the blush of her cheeks was certainly telling of her predicament. “Oh, of course, my Queen. We should be well-stocked of your… equipment.” Iris knew better than to say aloud that the Virago Queen wore diapers. Nonetheless, Ulrika was grateful for her assistant’s discretion. The two women approached the outskirts of the war camp, and none too soon. The sensation of the wet diaper being squished against her by her horse’s saddle irritated Ulrika to no end. Busy soldiers and officers scurried about, carrying arms and munitions to and fro. Many people were shouting, and many soldiers were running ahead, weapons at the ready. It was then that Ulrika realized: perhaps it wasn’t just thunder she’d been hearing. ------------------------------------------- The Virago Queen certainly has an interesting way of showing gratitude, thought Brenna. She served her queen as a lord commander with a decently sized regiment under her control. Before that, however, she was called the Howling Gale on the battlefield. She was a famous warrior, having slain countless of the throne’s enemies. For her courage and valor, she was to be awarded with power and authority. How nice those things had seemed, before Brenna found herself overseeing the most pitiful group of pants-pissers she’d ever seen. An unfortunate symptom of having an almighty warrior-queen serving as an icon to your people was that it inspired even the most unfit citizens to sign up as soldiers. The Queen had felt that if anyone could turn these weaklings into killers, it would be the Howling Gale. What followed had been months of Brenna and her subordinate Signe attempting to educate nearly three hundred women in the ways of war. She’d tried to teach them advanced techniques, but it was all so far above their heads. She’d tried to show them basic battle strategy, but Brenna was better suited to carrying out strategies, not making them- certainly not teaching them. When they finally met an enemy in open combat, half of her forces wouldn’t even leave their cover, preferring instead to wallow in their own puddles and messes. She’d punished them thoroughly after that. They’d improved, at least a little, but then she was commanded to capture a Gothian fortress. Every last offense she’d planned against the enemy base crumbled when exposed to her regiment’s sheer ineptitude. And now the queen will finally see the hopelessness of trying to train these people, she thought. Scandian reinforcements had arrived some days ago, and immediately seized control of the situation from Brenna. Whatever plan they’d concocted had been thrown into chaos when a contingent of Gothian reinforcements took everyone by surprise. And now Brenna found herself stuck in a ditch with five of her soldiers. Gunfire soared overhead, effectively serving as a roof. Skilled as she was, Brenna knew that showing her head over the edge of the pit was certain death. She was condemned to wait until the Scandian forces had pushed far enough to draw the focus off of them. She found the waiting distasteful, but her company in the ditch was absolutely intolerable. Five soldiers, and three of them had pissed themselves. One of the wet women had a large brown stain and wet bulge resting in the seat of her trousers, and she was confident she saw another bulge in the seat of the woman next to her. Only two of them had managed to not ruin their underwear in some way. When, at last, the gunfire abated, Brenna wasted no time standing and climbing out of the pit. “C-commander Brenna!” one of her soldiers called after her. Brenna turned to see the woman she was only fairly sure had soiled herself addressing her, “W-w-what should we do? There’s so many of them,” “Either follow behind me or cower in this pit,” She replied gruffly, “Whatever you decide, just keep out of my way.” Readying her rifle, she charged forward, free at last of that filthy hole in the ground. Bullets raced by her as she advanced. She didn’t scare easily, but the fear of being shot was a powerful and universal one. She felt the familiar adrenaline rush, the erratic and rapid beating of her heart, and the slightest twinge in her bladder- all long time companions of hers. Swift as the wind for which she was given her title, she gunned down two Gothian soldiers before they could move to dodge her. Charging through the barricade they’d been using, she was ambushed by a hidden man. With startling speed, he raised his knife, and brought it down. A small gasp escaped her lips, but her instincts took over and kept her alive. With a speedy sidestep, she dodged the knife, and drove the butt of her rifle into the man’s throat. He stumbled and fell backwards, giving Brenna enough time to raise her weapon high, and bring down the bayonet into his chest. She was panting, and felt dampness at her crotch. While she prided herself on being fearless, it could be said that her body was not as brave as her mind. She had a consistent tendency to leak on herself when in combat. To remedy this, she wore thicker underwear than most. Layers of cloth wrapped around her groin in an approximation of panties. She would defend to the death that this garment was not a diaper, and that she did not wet herself. Collecting herself, she analyzed the battlefield around her. Scandian cavalry had begun a fierce charge, and appeared to be smashing apart any Gothian lines. Before long, only the Gothians taking cover in the fort would be safe, and only until Scandian forces breached it. The thought of being the one to take the enemy stronghold filled her with excitement. At last, this thorn in her side could be removed. Ignoring the minor wetness between her thighs, she pressed on, towards the fort. ------------------------------------------- Ulrika found herself somewhat happy that she’d emptied her bladder before reaching her destination. She’d been able to do so slowly and deliberately- ensuring no leaks. Had she entered into the warzone before her with a full bladder, she knew there was a good chance she’d have caused it to overflow. She was ashamed to know such a thing, but she couldn’t deny it. Minutes after her arrival, a large force of Gothian soldiers had arrived to break the siege. She couldn’t be sure of their numbers, but there was certainly no shortage of them. Scandian soldiers rushed to take positions behind hastily made fortifications. The cacophonous shouts of countless officers attempting to organize their forces formed a background of noise to the innumerable gunshots and the thunder of cannons. Beside her, Iris was shaking, looking like she might fall off of her horse at any second. Ulrika half expected to see a growing urine stain upon her servant’s red dress, but it seemed Iris managed to keep her bladder under her control. “Iris,” Ulrika said in an authoritative voice, hiding her own fear, “Get somewhere safe, wait until the fighting is over.” “Y-y-yes, Your M-Majesty,” The girl could barely speak, and her face was pale as death. With a kick, she sped off on her steed, searching for shelter. Ulrika longed to join her. Already, her heart was pounding, and a cold knot in her stomach threatened to take control of her body away at any second. She shook her head, and steeled herself. She was the Virago Queen, not some little girl who soiled herself and ran at the slightest fright. She would be the stone that this Gothian army would break upon. Pulling her grand, double-barrelled rifle from its holster, she rode towards the sounds of thunder. ------------------------------------------- Signe could not tell if she was the luckiest or unluckiest woman in the world. She’d been a short distance from the rest of the camp when the Gothians launched their surprise attack, and this allowed her to use the surrounding woods for cover while she fired on the assailants. However, she’d been apart from the others on account of her need to relieve herself. She’d hoped to find a moment of privacy, but now found herself trying to snipe Gothians whilst keeping her thighs held together. The young soldier had positioned herself atop a small hill, and had a grand view of the unfolding battle. Scandian fortifications and a few old buildings had made for excellent cover to lay siege to the fort, but now the Gothians had pushed so far forward many of these defenses now belonged to them. An enemy soldier rounded a corner, and levelled his rifle at the female soldier taking cover there. With a quick twist and a squeeze of the trigger, Signe planted a bullet in his chest. The man and his rifle crashed to the ground, unmoving. The woman she’d just saved looked towards Signe’s impromptu nest, still in a bit of a stupor. With her sharp eyes, Signe noticed with sympathy that there was a quickly expanding stain on the front of the girl’s uniform pants. She turned her attention to a line of Gothian marksmen who’d reversed one of the Scandian barricades, and were using it for cover. They were effectively turning a long stretch of ground into a killing floor. Signe fired, and the first of the Gothian soldiers dropped. The one closest to him lost his focus, and in that second she took him down, as well. The remaining soldiers crouched low, fully hiding behind their cover. With their overwatch ended, Scandian forces promptly advanced towards them. They wouldn’t last much longer. Signe then turned to the next cluster of Gothians. She aimed and placed her shot, but felt a slick heat flowing into her underwear just before pulling the trigger. Alarmed at leaking, her shot went wide, and impacted a tree next to her target. With some gestures and shouting, suddenly the eyes of several Gothian marksmen fell upon her perch. Signe’s eyes went wide, and she dove behind a nearby tree trunk for cover. Lying flat on her stomach, she pressed her body against the ground as tightly as possible. A hailstorm of bullets followed only a second after. Dirt and bark were launched into the air, and the terrifying howl of passing bullets was all she could hear. Her bladder, made lax with fear, spilled its contents into her trousers. Lying flat upon the ground, it soaked the front of her pants, puddling in the dirt, and reaching down to her knees. The fetid warmth spread to the bottom of her shirt and jacket, and tears of relief stung her eyes. Her stream died down to a trickle, and at last it was finished. Doing her utmost to remain hidden, she crawled away from the stump, moving downhill. She would need to find a new position, and she would need to be more subtle. Crawling through the brush, her cold and clammy pants stuck to her thighs, and the scent was thick. Signe had heard that Queen Ulrika would be making an appearance that day, and she dearly wanted not to face her queen in piss-soaked clothes. Once she’d found another vantage point, she took care to conceal her location. Without the nagging of a full bladder, her accuracy and reaction notably improved. Earlier, she’d wished for a quick battle, so that she could finish it and retreat to somewhere private to empty her bladder; now she was hoping it would rage for long enough that she’d dry off under the sun. ------------------------------------------- Iris hadn’t needed much convincing to run to safety. She’d sped away on her horse, but soon found that the Gothian assault had been so rapid and brutal that shelters were in rather short supply.Much worse than that, though, was her appearance. She wore a red dress, and rode a horse of excellent breed. She looked to the Gothians very much like a person of high standing within Scandia. She looked very much like a target. Struggling to find anywhere that looked safe, and like it would continue to be safe, the young woman had no choice but to dart back and forth between anything that resembled cover. When the first bullet sped passed her head, she nearly fainted. With every ounce of willpower she had, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her horse’s head for stability. A long jet of urine soaked into her panties, sending several droplets down her thighs. More bullets came, each one only narrowly missing. In her addled, terrified state, she decided to abandon her mount, and seek a small hovel to hide in. Dismounting while as numb as she was proved difficult, and she more akin to falling off her horse and landing on her backside. Her legs shaking and unable to carry her, she crawled over to a large stone wall, one looking to belong to a church, and covered her head with her hands, willing the fight to be over. ------------------------------------------- Ulrika’s anger at the failure of her forces was immeasurable, and matched only by the dread that filled her heart. The Gothians were known for fighting ferociously to the bitter end, and they’d haunted her nightmares since she first began her campaign against them. The Virago Queen did everything in her power to clear her mind, and focus on the battle. Mounted atop her powerful steed, and wielding her ornate rifle, she rode to the site of one of the more fierce engagements. She came upon two Scandian soldiers, both huddled behind some crates for cover. One of them, at least, was attempting to fight. She leaned over the boxes and fired, although the large wet streaks down her legs betrayed her fearful incontinence. The other, however, was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, no weapon in sight. She sat in a large puddle, and a large, rounded bulge rested in the seat of her pants, tinging them brown. “Disgraceful!” She shouted at them. The one who still had her weapon spun around in alarm, before lifting her hand in a shaky salute when she realized who had approached her. The other looked up, and whimpered slightly. “You are here to fight for your country, soldiers! If you cannot even keep from soiling yourselves, then you have no place on my battlefield!” “Y-yes, Your Majesty,” The one who’d only wet herself replied. She shook slightly, and Ulrika noted the renewed wetness blossoming at the woman’s crotch. “If you’ve any honor or love for your country, you’ll advance and fight for it!” Seeing the mighty Virago Queen in all her splendor, the whimpering soldier managed to stand. Urine dripped from her trousers, but she gave a dutiful salute to Ulrika. “For Scandia!” She said, with as much force as her voice could muster. “For Scandia!” Said the other, as she turned to resume firing. Satisfied, Ulrika rode ahead. Bullets flew by her, and she knew she must have been the target of more than one Gothian gunman. Heat around her groin informed her that her bladder had just released whatever urine was still inside it. Once again, she found herself silently praying that the stress and strain the fight was putting on both herself and her diaper wouldn’t cause a leak. She tried to remain calm, and to center herself; the army here was positively massive. The Gothians were fighting with their usual suicidal vigor, but they could not hope to defeat their much larger host. Her fear was intense, having already overwhelmed her bladder, but Ulrika was still a skilled combatant. As she rode, she quickly shot down the Gothians in her immediate vicinity. Her forces were following quickly behind her, having been galvanized by her presence. With the might Virago Queen serving as their inspiration, the Scandian army was ready to vanquish any foe. And the Gothians knew that. Already she looked the part of an officer, and thus a target, but when it became clear that she was the legendary Queen and the architect of Scandia’s imperialism, nearly all guns were trained on her. The first few bullets smashed into the ground near her horse, and she thought little of them. As more came, she kicked her horse into a gallop. Speeding through the battlements, the ground around her was being torn away by the hailstorm of gunfire. Tears of abject terror burned at her eyes, and she wanted so badly to scream. Her fear took root in her bowels, then, and spilled its contents out. Wet mush filled the back of her diaper to the brim, coating her rear end. As her backside smashed repeatedly against the saddle, her release was smeared against her. At last, a bullet hit a mark. Mercifully, it had missed Ulrika herself, but instead struck her horse in the flank. It reared upwards in sudden pain, flinging her from its back. Wasting no time, she righted herself, and stood up just in time to see her horse running off into the woods. In a frightened panic, she turned and ran towards the nearest cover she could find. Her legs did not take her far, and she tripped and fell forward, behind a stone wall. A shrill, terrified scream startled Ulrika, and she looked up to see none other than Iris pressed against the wall. She was shaking, and it seemed as though she wasn’t expecting the storm of bullets Ulrika had brought to her hiding place, and was certainly not prepared for someone to jump in with her. A wet spot had blossomed on the front of her dress, and grew rapidly into an irregular, oblong circle. Trails of wetness raced down the sides of the crimson fabric while a large stain gradually worked its way to the bottom. Streams and drops of piss fell from her hem, creating a growing puddle underneath her. As she continued to wet herself, she calmed slightly, and seemed to recognize who had just joined her. “Q-Queen Ulrika?!” For a second, she almost looked relieved. “Iris? I ordered you to go somewhere safe!” “There wasn’t anywhere! This was-” The shouting of Gothian words silenced the both of them. Someone was close, and calling to his compatriots. Ulrika did not know the words he spoke, but she knew the tone. Here! Here! She imagined him relaying to his friends, She’s hiding over here! She reached for her weapon, only to find it absent. It had been thrown to places unknown when she fell from her horse. The two of them were defenseless. Her heart racing, she lifted a brick from the ground, preparing to defend herself. Footsteps drew near. Closer, closer, until Ulrika was certain the soldier would round the corner at any second. But with the crack of a single rifle firing, the footsteps abruptly stopped. Ulrika turned towards the source of the shot, and saw a female Scandian soldier rising from cover. A large wet patch adorned her trousers. The woman began to walk towards them, until the explosive thunder of artillery drowned out all other sounds. A spot not too distant from their hide was smote with a fiery explosion. The markswoman dove into a nearby building for safety. The miniature earthquake it created shook Ulrika to her core, and she cowered behind the wall. Tucking her knees in, and covering her head, it was all she could do not to pass out. The Gothians had seen her run this way. They’d heard the words of the soldier who’d come looking. They knew she was hiding. All they had to do was destroy any potential cover until they finally struck her. When the next explosion came, Ulrika soiled herself even further. More wet mush filled out her diaper, creating a bulge in her trousers. It would take a miracle for it not to leak. A third explosion came, but never a fourth. The queen dared to look up, and beheld that the fighting was nearly over. Scandian forces had advanced extremely quickly, and braved the walls of the fort. Within minutes, the fighting would be well and truly over. She stood, taking stock of how heavy her pants had become. She’d produced an impressive amount of shit, and she was certain the front was practically waterlogged. Iris, too, had calmed herself, and shamefully grabbed the front of her dress, feeling the massive piss stain. “Is… Is it over?” Iris said in her demure, timid voice. Stumbling over to the edge of the wall, she peered at the fort, and saw the concluding battle. While her assistant inspected the fort, Ulrika’s eyes were drawn to the back of her skirt. The queen was disheartened to see that, despite everything, Iris had actually managed not to soil herself. Ulrika hated her own cowardice so very much. Even her servant, who was woefully frightened of everything, hadn’t made as much of a mess of herself as Ulrika had. “It… Would appear so, yes,” At the queen’s observation, Iris loudly exhaled in gratitude that they were safe. “Iris,” She muttered, getting the young woman’s attention, “In a moment, I shall require your… assistance.” --------------------- “Disgraceful,” Brenna’s forceful voice rang out over the now quiet war camp. Her regiment now stood in formation in front of her. Nearly three hundred pairs of pissed pants. Brenna couldn’t be sure how many had soiled themselves, but the absolutely nauseating odor indicated it was a sizeable portion. The soldiers before averted their eyes. Their faces burned with shame, and she knew some were crying, or close to crying. Entirely unacceptable behavior for warriors of the Scandian empire. Even her right-hand-woman Signe had wet herself in the fray. Brenna was certain this entire assignment was intended to be a punishment for some unknown slight against the Virago Queen. And speak of the Devil… Brenna thought, seeing the tall and imposing figure of her country’s ruler approaching. The Queen’s assistant followed close behind her, looking much like one of Brenna’s less-than-continent soldiers, with the massive urine stain on the front of her skirt. Standing in the proper posture, Brenna saluted her queen. Predictably, Ulrika wore quite a scowl on her face. Murmurs spread throughout her regiment, and the many soiled soldiers clumsily and inelegantly snapped to attention and saluted her. “Your Majesty, Queen Ulrika! I-” “Choose your words carefully, lord commander,” Ulrika said with a dangerous edge in her voice that made Brenna’s throat feel dry. “I want you to explain to me, firstly, why an imperceptibly small force held you at bay for this long. Long enough that enemy reinforcements could arrive. Had my forces not joined the battle when we had, you and your entire regiment would have been killed. Secondly, explain to me how it is that hardly a single one of your troops managed not to ruin their uniforms with their own waters and waste. Explain to me, ‘Howling Gale’, how you permitted this disgrace to befall your homeland.” Brenna could feel her composure cracking like glass. The Virago Queen was legendarily cruel when it came to punishing failure in her ranks. A slight warmth at her groin warned her how close she was to losing control of her bladder. She swallowed, then answered, “My queen,” her voice was hoarse, “I did all that I could to teach these people. They aren’t soldiers, they-” “You were to make them into soldiers,” A cold fury radiated behind her words. Brenna coughed slightly, the dryness in her throat almost choking her, “I… I failed to do so, Your Highness,” admittance of failure did not come easily to her, but the queen would not tolerate excuses. “Lieutenant Signe and I tried fervently to educate our charges, but it is my belief that none of them possess the mettle to serve in your armies.” The words did nothing to assuage the mighty queen’s anger. “How ‘fervently’ could you have tried, lord commander? The people I left in your care could only cower and wet themselves when they were called to serve.” “Your Majesty, I must confess that I do not understand!” Brenna’s voice was confused and desperate. “I am one of your finest soldiers, I have slain countless many of your enemies. Why have I been relegated to teaching these overgrown children who cannot even control their own bladders? Have I done something to warrant this punishment?” Her tone shifted from pleading to angry by the end of her rant, but her blood ran cold when she saw how Ulrika’s face twisted from cold fury to murderous intent. Quick pulses of her piss soaked into her underwear as she leaked even more. “Commander Brenna,” Ulrika said slowly. She took a step forward, and Brenna quickly took a frightened step back. “I placed you in charge of this regiment specifically because of your talents. I had faith in you to turn them into loyal and powerful soldiers of Scandia. All you have to offer me are excuses and accusations. All you can give me, after all that I have given you, is failure.” The queen continued to walk towards her. Brenna had completely abandoned her posture, and was fearfully backstepping. The warmth of urine saturated her groin. She knew that she was not just leaking, she had begun to wet herself. Her regiment only watched, silent and bewildered. In the quiet, the harsh hiss of her voiding bladder was clear as day. In disgust, Ulrika lowered her gaze to Brenna’s crotch. She raised an eyebrow when there was no wetness there. Brenna could feel her release flooding her privates, the garment growing heavy between her legs. “Are you… ” Ulrika began, but continued to observe. The queen’s gaze sharpened even further. Brenna guessed that she was piecing together what was hiding under her trousers. The terrifying queen’s visage evaporated whatever control was left of the lord commander’s bladder. Hot piss sprayed into her underwear, soaking them beyond their capacity. Crescents of wetness formed on each of her thighs, and raced downwards. Small puddles formed at her feet. “Shame upon shame,” the queen said coldly. With a quick and harsh motion, she gripped Brenna’s trousers, and yanked them down. Brenna gasped loudly as her special, protective undergarments were put on display. The white cloth had been thoroughly stained yellow. “You insult and chastise them, when you are no better. Perhaps I truly did overestimate you, Howling Gale.” The edge in the queen’s voice was pure ice. Brenna was certain the Virago Queen was going to have her killed. “Y-Your Majesty, P-please!” She begged, as a quick burst of flatulence and accompanying crackling announced the emptying of her bowels. Wet mush piled in the seat of her “panties,” some escaping the cuffs and dripping down her thigh. The release was large, and her now bulging underwear began to slide down her thighs. Gripping the sides, she pulled them back up, too numb with fear to mind how it made her mess press against her rear. “Lord commander Brenna, I hereby strip you of your rank. Wash the filth off of yourself, and meet me in the command tent for the assignment of your punishment.” Brenna felt tears stinging her eyes. Her entire regiment could only stare, wide-eyed, at her pathetic display in front of them. Ulrika looked to Signe, and spoke, “Lieutenant Signe, I presume?” “Y-yes, Your Majesty!” Signe dutifully answered, a little surprised to be called upon. “You killed a man who was only seconds away from revealing my position to Gothian cannoneers. I daresay my servant and I only escaped the bombardment thanks to you.” “Ah, uh, of course, Your Majesty! I would gladly lay down my life for you!” “And yet,” Ulrika’s eyes drifted down to the wetness of Signe’s thighs. “It would appear that fear made a fool of you as well.” “F-forgive me, my queen,” “However, despite your fear, you fulfilled your duty as a soldier. You did not let your terror stand in your way. You accomplished much today, proving your courage.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” Signe opted for a simple response. “I see now that I made an error appointing the Howling Gale to be the commander of this regiment. If anyone can teach them of courage and duty, it is you. I hereby appoint you as lord commander of this regiment.” The queen and her assistant departed, leaving a stunned Signe and a shamed Brenna standing alone in front of the many Scandian Soldiers. A chill breeze swept between Brenna’s bare thighs, reminding her that her trousers rested around her ankles, and her ruined diaper was perfectly visible to hundreds of people. Holding back her tears, she yanked her pants back up, cringing as it forced the cold, wet, and soiled garment against her body. The former lord commander silently left, searching for someplace to clean herself off. --------------------- Ulrika was well aware of the hypocrisy of her condemnations. Even as she paraded the lord commander’s incontinence before everyone, Ulrika herself still had yet to change. Her own undergarments were still swollen with her urine, and sagging with her waste. She reminded herself that the facade was critically important, and that if she needed to be a hypocrite to ensure the success and morale of her empire, then she gladly would be. But what truly bothered her was not the carefully crafted charade, the lies, deceptions, or hypocrisy- it was the honesty of her praise for the markswoman Signe. Like most of the inept regiment, she had wet herself, but hardly seemed a coward for it. The vision of the woman, clad in pissed pants, fearlessly gunning down the man who would have taken Ulrika’s life was burned into her mind. All that she, the Virago Queen could do, was to curl up and soil herself like a frightened child. Along with her respect for the woman, Ulrika felt a burning envy of her courage. She had to pause in her walk, and pull her pants and diaper back up, as the weight of her earlier fear had caused them to slide down her legs. A quick touch of her rear confirmed that she’d produced a considerable amount of shit in her pants. The shame of her incontinence burned hotly, but not nearly so much as her shame in her own cowardice. “Ah, Your Majesty!” An older man’s voice called. One of the generals sent to destroy the fort. He and the other generals and commanders had gathered around a small table with a map. They were discussing and preparing the greater offensive- the invasion into Gothia from this point. It was a discussion she would need to be present for. Naturally, it would be taking place when Ulrika’s pants were full of shit. Fighting to clear her mind and keep her blush at bay, she approached the table. They each welcomed her with a proper salute, and made way for her to view the map. It wasn’t even a minute until one of them made the comment Ulrika would’ve rather died than hear: “Does anybody else smell that?” She veritably froze on the spot, her mind racing to concoct an excuse for why she smelled like a latrine. “Oh!” Iris chimed in. She clutched the large wet stain on the front of her dress, “I… I am terribly sorry… That smell is me.” The young woman visibly spread her legs slightly, to give the impression that she had soiled herself, “I couldn’t reach safety, and I was terribly frightened! All the bullets, and the fighting, I just… ” She squeezed the hand that held her piss-stained skirt, once again emphasizing her accident. Ulrika had very clearly seen the girl’s rear, and there was no hint of Iris having lost control of her bowels. Her able assistant had just eagerly offered up her own dignity to save Ulrika’s. In that moment, Ulrika was considering renaming a city or two after Iris in gratitude. The men around them had mixed reactions. Some chuckled, some looked with sympathy, and others looked away in disgust, or just due to the awkwardness. Finally, one of them shattered the tension with a quick jest, “What were you so scared of, miss? You had the Virago Queen by your side! You couldn’t have been any safer in the sturdiest bunker in the land.” The others nodded their agreement and chuckled along. “Well, I do suppose I can see that now,” Iris commented, giving a quiet, little laugh. Thinking back to the two of them hiding and wetting themselves, only to be saved by someone else, Ulrika’s self-loathing thoughts of her own cowardice resurfaced, and she wished them to be gone immediately. “Yes yes, enough teasing my assistant,” She said, getting everyone back on track. “Today we begin what I intend to be the final campaign into Gothia. I will have no more delays, no more failures.” With that, they began their planning. For over an hour, Ulrika and Iris stood there in their wet and soiled clothing. When, at last, it had ended, they retired to the command tent- a large, almost luxurious tent that had been erected in anticipation of the queen’s arrival. It was private, devoid of people, had no windows to the outside, and would be an excellent place for the two women to clean and change themselves. Once they had entered inside, and there were no prying eyes or ears to bother them, Ulrika turned to face her assistant. “Iris,” She said, more gently than usual. “Highness?” “... Thank you.” Ulrika was not skilled in offering up genuine gratitude, and Iris’ smile told her the young woman knew the significance of her thanks, tacit as it was. “Of course, my Queen.” The tent lacked any suitable changing table, so they’d have to make do on the floor. While her diaper had miraculously spared her trousers from the torrent of piss and shit she unleashed into them, her clothes had otherwise been soiled by rips, tears, burns, blood, and dirt. Stripping them off, she stood before Iris in only her heavily soiled diaper. The two had long ago done away with any discomfort between themselves in regards to nudity. Iris produced a fresh diaper from her bag, and Ulrika prepared to lie down for changing, when they heard it. “So this is the mighty Virago Queen, in all her splendor.” For a second, Ulrika was certain it had only been a nightmarish conjuration of her own imagination. The voice belonged to man. A man who spoke with a thick Gothian accent. She felt liquid warmth pouring into her diaper. She fought to stand up, to assess the situation. Emerging from a hidden space in the spacious tent was a man in Gothian uniform, clutching a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other. He had a look on his face that was a cross between utter disbelief and unabated joy. Iris’ legs were shaking. She grabbed onto Ulrika’s arm to steady herself. She was still wetting her diaper, although it could hold no more by that point. Golden rivulets broke through the garment, and coursed down her muscular legs. The man- the assassin- looked on with a smug grin. “I would’ve preferred to kill you on the battlefield, but I must say… this is proving far more enjoyable than I predicted.” “P-please… don’t… ” Ulrika stammered out a meager plea, but she knew it was pointless. The ferocity and perseverance of the Gothians had haunted her nightmares for quite some time. She knew there was absolutely no way he would let her live, not when he had the power to shatter the leadership and morale of the people invading his homeland. “I don’t know how you managed to fool all of us into being afraid of you, but it won’t matter now,” he levelled his pistol at her head. Ulrika could only close her eyes as tears streamed down her face. There was a gunshot. A thunderous sound that heralded death. Ulrika heard a wet squelch, and was sure she’d soiled herself even further in her final moments. But then she heard a body hit the ground in front of her. When she was certain it was not her that had been shot, she wiped the tears from her eyes, and opened them. The assassin was dead. A bleeding hole in the back of his head told the story of how. Standing behind him, jaw hanging open in shock, was the former lord commander Brenna. Ulrika’s senses returned to her, and she recalled that Brenna had been instructed to meet her in the command tent. Such a small action had saved she and Iris’ lives. Of course, she now had a disgruntled commander that she’d publicly humiliated staring at her in her state of incontinent undress. “Your Majesty,” she said, slowly, carefully, “Have I… interrupted something?” Ulrika attempted a reply, but it emerged only a choked, sobbing sound. With a cough, she cleared her throat and spoke, “L-lord Commander… I believe you have earned yourself a… promotion,” she hated having to concede anything to the woman who had so disrespected her earlier, but now she would need to keep her quiet. “It seems I have,” an opportunistic smiled creeped onto Brenna’s face. “I don’t want a position teaching whelps how to fight. I want to be there, my Queen. I want to win glory on the field of battle. Give me that, and I can promise not to ever speak a word of… this.” “Perhaps a position in my royal guard would suit you, then… Howling Gale,” she gritted her teeth in frustration. Once again, she’d been saved from imminent death when all she could do was beg for mercy and cower in fear. And to be saved by someone she was meant to be disciplining. Her trials today knew no ends. “I think that sounds perfect,” Brenna only then stowed her pistol away. “As a show of good faith, I’ll keep anyone from entering the tent for as long as I can. Give you time to make yourselves presentable. And I promise to forget what I saw,” She gave a slight wink with her last remark. No one in all the world could speak to her like that, least of all one of her subordinates. Brenna was a skilled warrior, and now had saved her life and was privy to her darkest secret; but even so, she would be made to heel. Ulrika considered how many ways she could have Brenna punished, but for the time being, she elected to finally change out of her truly ruined diaper.
  5. Just thought I'd give another update.

    The finale of Journey to Arnwick is about 60% complete. Part 1 is finished completely, and part 2 is mostly done. Just need to finish it up then move on to part 3.

    The problem is that my college classes are taking a lot out of me. I won't get into too much detail, but I've had to meet with a couple department heads to discuss my professors' behavior.

    I thought those shenanigans would eat up all of my time to write, but I think I wound up writing more purely to spite them.

    Anyway, the finale is also planned to have an accompanying surprise that I'm excited about, and I'm gonna do my best to get it out as soon as I can.

  6. Oh shit, how am I only just now finding this? Really nice work. Looking forward to anything else you've got!
  7. Oh, I wonder what this could be?

    Maybe something cool that will be ready soon?

    dfzfdfdfddfsdfs.JPG

    1. pp123

      oh i cant wait to see that

  8. More where that came from. Honestly, I feel like people should just dump some more male images here. Put 'em all in one easy to find spot.
  9. Got you covered. Some of these were made by users on the site, but I can't remember which ones, or which users.
  10. Actually, my friend Linkx just had a bunch of artwork by Leaky done for his story, Sanam City. Here's the link to art. Thanks! Maybe someday I'll make some omo of one of those, but for the moment I don't really know anything about any of them. I've seen a bit of Kantai Collection but that's about it. I do love some of the designs in Girls Frontline, though.
  11. This was done as part of a trade with LeakyPanties. It also got me interested enough in the Street Fighter universe that I picked up V and started playing it. I like the game a lot, and I specifically like Rainbow Mika a lot, so I might be making more SF content. Hope you enjoy! The clamor and chaos that bellowed from a crowd was something Mika would never get tired of. As she stood atop the ropes ringing the arena, the roar grew only louder. “Who’s ready to watch an ass-whooping?” Mika called out, eliciting even more spirited cheers. Beside her, her tag-team partner Nadeshiko was also raising her arms high, calling out to the audience. It was a smaller venue than Mika traditionally hit up, but the crowd was certainly enthusiastic enough to make up the difference. They were eager to see some violence. “You ready to do this, Nadeshiko?” Mika asked, shooting her partner a smirk. Nadeshiko happily returned the smirk, “You bet your ass I am!” “Just asking, cause if you wanna take a break, you know; I’m feeling pumped.” “2v1 pumped?” When Mika’s only answer was a confident smile, Nadeshiko continued, “And leave all the fun to you? Keep dreaming.” At the opposite end of the building, a door swung open, letting in unwanted sunlight. A silhouette appeared in the light, clearly a woman. Mika recognized the figure of Poison almost immediately. What truly made her unhappy was the positively gargantuan silhouette that completely filled the doorway after her. Poison, her wild, pink hair a mess and signature whip in hand, strode towards the ring. Behind her, the colossus called Hugo followed. Mika’s smile had taken on a slightly more serious edge- no longer was she simply eager to get into a fight, now she was eager to take down an old rival of hers. Beside her, however, Nadeshiko’s boisterous confidence had died down considerably. She could swear the earth was shaking with every step Hugo took. She knew she’d peed a little when he entered. She hoped it wasn’t enough to show any damage on her outfit. “Mika,” She spoke, low enough that only the two of them could hear, “Uh, how do you wanna do this?” “Was thinkin’ we’d beat the crap out of ‘em, shake it up a little,” “Seriously, Mika, what’s the game plan?” “I can take on the big guy. I’ve fought with Zangief, after all, and that guy’s nothing compared to him!” Nadeshiko was rather relieved to hear that. Poison was no slouch, but at least she was about the same height. Nadeshiko would need a ladder just to punch Hugo in the chest. With almost no spectacle, the two climbed the ropes, and faced them. Being the rude person that Poison was, and the… odd individual that Hugo was, they weren’t incredibly popular for the audience. Their appearance was accompanied by scattered boos and jeers. It didn’t matter much to them; in fact, Poison likely preferred the enmity. “Rainbow Mika… ” She began, “I heard you recently beat Zangief in one of your little play matches. Old man must be losing his touch, huh?” “Why you… No one insults Zangief!” It wasn’t even a particularly scathing insult, but Mika couldn’t tolerate any amount of disrespect for her idol. “Change of plans, Nadeshiko, she’s mine!” “She’s- wait what?!” her partner stammered, but Mika had already taken several steps forward, raring to go. Nadeshiko looked at the giant who would be her opponent, and felt a cold pit in her stomach. She braced herself to keep from leaking any more. The venue and its modest accommodations didn’t have much in the way of rules, or even staff members, but the closest thing it had to an officiator simply called out, “3… 2… 1… FIGHT!!” With a nearly guttural roar, Hugo dropped to a fighting stance, and slowly approached Nadeshiko. She felt her bladder pulse once more, wetting the crotch of her wrestling attire. She steeled herself, and adopted her stance. She had no idea how she was going to take on Hugo, but she knew it wasn’t by pissing herself. With a sudden lurch forward, Hugo threw out a simple punch. Nadeshiko nimbly dodged it, and used the opening to advance and drive a kick into his belly. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. With his other arm, he struck her in the side. The impact made her stagger back, and she was sure she could feel a couple warm droplets running down her leg. Hugo laughed, and for a moment she was worried her accident had been noticed, however, “I feel no pain!” was all he had to say. Utilizing the considerable range his enormous arms offered him, he lashed out repeatedly, throwing out swing after swing. It taxed her reflexes to the extreme to keep up her dodging. A mighty right hook whizzed by her face, missing by an inch. The shock was so great that she failed to dodge his next attack. Raising her arms to block, she weathered a massive strike from Hugo. Searing pain shot through her arms, and heat coursed down her legs. “No no no no no!” She muttered, looking down at herself. Urine was pouring from her crotch, and her suit was soaked. A thick stream fell between her legs, and splattered noisily on the ground. Smaller streams ran down her legs, depositing into the same puddle. Laughter quickly rose from the audience, along with insults and taunts. Nadeshiko’s face burned red- she’d just wet herself in front of a sizeable crowd. Hugo laughed, and stood imposingly over her, “scared?” He asked. Nadeshiko refused to let the fear overwhelm her any further. Hugo thought he had the fight in the bag, and she aimed to show him otherwise. He leaned over her, and she launched an uppercut directly into his jaw with all her might. If he truly felt no pain, then he was a good actor. He reeled back, clutching his chin. Nadeshiko returned to her fighting stance, and felt her face burn even hotter when the last spurt of urine finally exited her body, and streamed down her leg. Meanwhile, Mika and Poison had been having their own little match. Poison’s whip made a number of approaches difficult, since any attacker would just eat a hit from it if they weren’t careful. Mika performed a feint attack, and Poison swung her whip. Had Mika truly been going for the attack, she would have taken a nasty hit; instead the whip cracked harmlessly in the open air. Mika had instead lunged in the other direction, and quickly closed the distance. Poison barely had time to look surprised before Mika planted a fist in her face. She continued, and drove her knee into her stomach. Finally, she grabbed Poison’s shoulders, and forcefully pulled her into a grapple- slamming her into the ground. Mika put all of her weight and all of her strength into the attack. Poison cried out in pain, but Mika had heard something else. She heard a faint crackle. With Poison’s shorts being pitch black and rather tight, it was difficult to see any staining or any bulge, but the smell in the air told Mika the truth: Poison had crapped herself. Mika grinned ear to ear, and stood, leaving Poison on the ground. She faced the cheering crowd, who had taken great joy in watching the show. In truth, she was also trying to put a little distance between herself and the odor of Poison’s accident. In the middle of the fight between Hugo and Nadeshiko, Mika had bested Poison. Her scream of pain caught Hugo’s attention. In a panic, he looked over to see Mika cheering over a hurt Poison. Seeing his friend in trouble, Hugo growled, and abandoned his fight with Nadeshiko. He rushed to Mika, determined to protect- or at least avenge- his old friend. Mika was riding high after taking out her rival. She was far too busy showboating to notice Hugo. Only when his monstrous shadow fell upon her did she realize what was happening- all too late. Like a human avalanche, he hit her with a body slam. It hurt Poison when Mika put all of her weight into a similar attack, but all of Hugo’s weight? That was like getting run over by a train. She was smashed into the floor, face-down. “Mika!!” Nadeshiko called out, running to assist her partner. Her effort was halted when something took hold of her arm, and pulled her back. Poison’s whip was entangled around her elbow. Poison herself had recovered from Mika’s barrage of attacks, but looked quite worse for wear. Some observers may have even found themselves questioning why she was standing so bowlegged. Poison pulled hard on the whip, bringing Nadeshiko to her. Poison’s eyes drifted down to the wrestler’s stained crotch, and she laughed mockingly. Nadeshiko fought back, but Poison was quick. She swiftly entangled her with the whip once more, this time around Nadeshiko’s entire body. Her arms were bound to her side, and she could not free herself, no matter how hard she struggled. She was then spun, and shoved towards the ropes. Her wet groin and glistening legs were quite easy to see. “Looks like little Nadeshiko had a bit too much to drink!” Poison shouted, eliciting laughter from the crowd. She was spun around once more, facing Poison again. “Hey, Hugo!” She called, “Wanna finish this one up?” The giant smiled, “Sure thing,” and lifted himself up. Below him, Mika was still lying face-down. She struggled to rise, but only briefly, before falling back down. Those in the ring were privy to a hissing sound, and their eyes all fell upon Rainbow Mika, and the rapidly expanding puddle around her thighs. “Oh-ho! This is great!” Poison shouted, seeing Mika piss herself, “I think it’s about time for a rebranding. How does ‘Yellow Mika’ sound?” The audience laughed, and some of them even started a chant of “Yellow Mika.” Hugo gave a spirited laugh at his friend’s joke, as he cracked his knuckles. “All yours,” Poison said, stepping to the side. Nadeshiko struggled furiously to escape the whip binding her, but nothing worked. She stumbled backwards, into the ropes. There was nowhere else to go. Hugo reeled back for a bone-shattering punch, while Poison merely taunted “smile for the camera!” Nadeshiko couldn’t find the same courage that had helped her earlier, the only thing she could feel was chilling terror. Her knees buckled, and her bowels gave in, pushing their contents into her panties. Unlike Poison, Nadeshiko’s outfit was white, and quite elastic. Her wet load filled the backside of her outfit, creating a rounded bulge that began to tinge brown. As she’d stumbled back into the ropes, she’d just treated at least a quarter of the audience to a clear view of her shitting herself in fear. She took solace in the fact that she would be unconscious soon enough. But that was when all of them heard the rather startling sound of Mika’s voice, screaming “Hey!!” Poison and Hugo whirled about in alarm, to see Rainbow Mika charging at them. As silly as she looked, with a piss stain that reached up to her bellybutton, they knew she was still a threat. Hugo prepared to meet her in combat, and Poison prepared to back him up. Both of them ignored Nadeshiko, who took the time to wriggle and writhe as much as possible. She had to suppress her desire to cheer when the whip began to loosen, and finally fell off of her. She’d been partners with Mika long enough to know what she wanted to do. Hugo was not ready when, instead of attacking him, Mika slid between his legs. Behind him, Nadeshiko was waiting. She held out her hands, and served as a launchpad for Mika. Throwing the woman into the air, she landed a deadly kick on the back of the giant man’s head. He howled in pain, and began to waver. Poison was fast enough to realize the danger she was in. She rushed Nadeshiko before Hugo could fall- before it would just be her against the duo. Nadeshiko was taken by surprise, and fell victim to a kick in her stomach. Poison retrieved her whip, and lashed out with it, striking Nadeshiko in the chest. She screamed, and fell backwards. She was done for, and she knew it. Unlike Mika, she couldn’t muster the will to stand back up. By the time Hugo had finally collapsed, Mika was panting. She seriously only had a few drops of energy left inside her. Her eyes went wide when she saw an incoming whip strike. She ducked it, but Poison pressed the attack. Mika’s dodges of the many whip cracks were getting sloppier by the second. Eventually, Poison had gotten close enough to deliver a punch directly to Mika’s abdomen. Mika didn’t have the energy left to dodge, nor the strength left to resist it. She inhaled sharply, then felt her body begin to go limp. When Poison pulled her fist back, Mika fell to her knees, wobbling to her left and right. She fought hard to stay conscious, to get back up and win, but her body was at its limit. She tried to force her body to move, and the exertion caused her to soil herself. The back of her outfit tented as its elasticity was tested by Mika’s load. Unlike her partner, her mess was much more firm, and stretched her outfit enough that she could feel it grow tighter. The thing both soilings had in common, however, was how conspicuous they were. There was no way anyone watching her couldn’t tell that she’d just shat her pants. She felt humiliated, but mostly she just felt anger. She couldn’t stand to have lost to Poison. She especially disliked that Poison was the first person to crap their pants, and yet no had noticed. “Nighty night, Yellow Mika,” Poison purred. Mika fell forward, the pain and exhaustion only seconds from overwhelming her. In that moment, she swore to herself that she would not rest until she’d redeemed herself for this shameful match, and until she made Poison pay.
  12. Thank you, I'm glad you like it! I've been thinking about returning to this series a lot recently. I never meant to abandon it, I just kinda couldn't find the inspiration. I've been writing a lot lately, though, and Arnwick may see its finale, or at least part 1 of it, in the near future. I'm terrible at providing or following deadlines, so the best I could really tell you is that either this month or January I could probably have it made. The current plan is for a 3-part finale. As for the question about witches, it has 2 answers. Someone who makes a pact with an unholy entity for power is called a witch/warlock, depending on their gender. To a lesser extent, someone who practices any kind of magic, but does so without regulation and not under the jurisdiction of a church is also called a witch. Eliza is more the latter; she lived alone but had an advanced knowledge of magic- both holy and not.
  13. In one of the alternate endings in Blazblue Continuum Shift Extend, Valkenhayn warns Ragna about waking up Rachel. He tells him that she's so dangerous upon waking up, that she becomes a monster. He tells them that she is scary enough to make even Hakumen wet himself, to which Ragna responds "You're gonna make me pee." Then Taokaka announces that she just did pee herself. It's at 12:08 of this video.
  14. Here's the next one-shot. “Just a little more… ” Claire muttered, as she dropped a series of varied ingredients into little runic circles she’d etched into a section of her floor. The components necessary for this ritual seemed almost completely random to her, but she’d never been one to question the books. A snip of fox hair here, seven grapes there, and one of the most complicated runes she’d even seen encircling all of it. It had taken nearly a week to carve the symbol and gather the ingredients, but if it worked, it would all be worth it. Opening her spellbook to the proper page, she readied herself to read the incantation when she noticed the dust and dirt adorning her robe. She wanted to look presentable for her guest, and began brushing away any offending patches of dust. She straightened her long, brown hair. She adjusted her glasses. Last but not least, she donned her witch hat, to make a proper first impression. Clearing her throat, she began to read the inscription from her spellbook. They were old, eldritch words that did not roll off of her human tongue very easily. Slowly but surely, Claire could feel an energy begin to permeate the room. The various offerings placed inside the rune circle sank into the floor as if it were a viscous pool. The circle’s center shimmered, and tinged dark red: the color of the plane it reached into. A pair of glowing pink eyes peered at her from the other side, and then their owner was drawn through. Silhouetted against the light of the portal, Claire couldn’t make out very many features of her visitor’s body. It was female, judging by its slender frame. She had tall, slightly curved horns that rose high above her head. Large wings, like those of a bat, sprang from her back. Her eyes, still glowing a bright pink, watched her curiously. When the summoning finally concluded, and the light returned to normal, Claire could finally appraise her guest. She was somewhat smaller than Claire, herself, her horns only barely making up the difference. Her skin was a deep red, her long and wild hair pitch black. Tattoo-like markings covered much of her exposed arms and legs. … And thighs and midriff and cleavage, Claire noticed with a blush. The creature wore what could only be accurately described as black panties and a sort of corset that covered most of her breasts, but left the tops of them and her midriff exposed. The horned visitor smiled, and looked at Claire expectantly. “So… ” Claire finally said, keeping her gaze above her chest, “Can I assume your clothes did not survive the summoning?” The guest laughed at this. It was an impish and childish laugh. “Oh dear!” She said, looking down at her bust and thighs in mock embarrassment, “How humiliating! I’ve arrived before my new master without any clothes!” She leaned back, and covered her face with the back of her hand, pretending to faint, “Oh, woe is me! Woe is poor Pereni!” The young woman stressed her words in a sensual manner that Claire found quite uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter; nobody’s actually going to be seeing you out here,” The visitor, “Pereni,” evidently, seemed genuinely distressed when she heard this. “Huh? Do you mean there’s no one else around here but you or me?” “You’re in my cottage, which is hidden in the wilderness, quite a distance from the nearest settlement. I’d wager it will be quite some time before either of us sees anyone else.” Pereni seemed crestfallen for a moment, before her eyes widened with apparent realization, and she smiled, “My, my, Master, but you’re certainly demanding! You’re saying we have days, maybe even weeks of privacy? Just the two of us, together?” She stepped forward, and pressed her body against Claire’s. “Why, I don’t know if I have the stamina for that, but I’ll certainly try… ” Claire’s cheeks burned bright red, and she found herself momentarily stunned. This was not the stately, regal, gentleman of the Nether she’d meant to summon! She required assistance with her work, and felt sure that this… sex gremlin would be of no help whatsoever. Worse still was that she’d accidentally summoned a succubus. Claire had no interest in bedding women. If it had been an incubus, it would’ve at least been useful for stress relief. In an almost literal way, Pereni’s touch was electric. Part of her succubus magic ensured that any… interaction with her would always be far more pleasurable than similar congress with members of one’s own species. Ignoring it, Claire slowly but sternly pushed the woman away from her. She cleared her throat, and then issued her first command to her new servant, “P-Pereni, I haven’t summoned you to partake in… that.” “What?” The red-skinned woman was actually shocked by the rejection, “Then why did you summon me?” “I really didn’t mean to summon you at all. I was attempting to call out to an elder sorcerer for assistance with a matter of utmost importance.” “Wha- Well, then send me back!” “I’m afraid I can’t. I used special runes in the summoning circle to bind you to my service until my work is done.” Pereni stared at Claire in open-mouthed terror, “You… You mean… I’m stuck here?! I’m stuck here with no one else but you?! And you don’t want to fuck me?!” Practically alone, and nothing to couple with in sight, Claire supposed this truly must be torture for a succubus. “It would seem that way, yes.” Pereni groaned and crossed her arms in frustration. “I really am sorry, Pereni, I had no intention to trouble you. Tell you what, if you can still help me, we can finish my project together and you’ll be able to head home in no time.” “... Fine… ” The succubus begrudgingly agreed. “Excellent, then let’s get to work. This potion isn’t going to brew itself.” ---------- “Explain it to me again, please?” Claire groaned. Four times, she’d had to explain the nature of her experiment to Pereni. “Last time I’m saying it. Magic is very difficult to do; it requires years and years of hard work to be able to do even simple magic. I’ve modified some recipes for enhancement potions- like strength and speed tonics- and I’m trying to get them to permanently endow the imbiber with the ability to cast specific, powerful spells.” “What, you want a bunch of half-baked mages running around with high tier spells?” Pereni raised her eyebrow in confusion as she gently stirred the bubbling contents of a large cauldron that contained Claire’s nascent miracle potion. “No, I want to drink all the goods ones, and then make a ton of money selling the mediocre ones to the wastrels who couldn’t cut it in the sorcery academies.” Pereni’s face lit up, “Ooooh! That’s actually kinda devious! Why didn’t you open with that? Now I’m excited to help you.” In truth, it sounded worse than it really was. Claire already knew many of the advanced spells that could be made this way, and she just happened to be aware of who her biggest customers would be. “That’s good to hear, now… ” She flipped open her very thick and weathered journal in which she’d recorded all of her previous failed attempts to concoct this potion, “I think I’ve narrowed it down to the point I’m only missing a couple key ingredients to get this to work.” Almost as soon as she finished the sentence, Pereni nudged her aside and began reading from her notes, shouting “Lemme see!” She perused them for a short moment before declaring, “Ah! I know exactly what’s missing!” “You do?” Claire asked incredulously. “I’m a high-ranking denizen of the Nether, Mistress, this is childsplay to me.” “Please do not call me ‘mistress’.” Pereni puffed out her cheeks and glared sharply at Claire, “None of my other clients minded when I called them that, Miss Killjoy.” The succubus muttered some quiet, magical words, and held out her hand. In a flash of light, a strange, alien fruit appeared, and she gripped it gingerly. “It’s no wonder you couldn’t figure it out, Mistress, the ingredient you need is called netherbloom. Wanna take a guess at the only place it grows?” “The Nether?” “The Nether,” Pereni confirmed, dropping the fruit into the cauldron. The liquid shifted from green to a sickly pink, and the smell was far too sweet for Claire to have any hope of the brew tasting tolerable. “Go ahead, give it a try!” Using a spoon to extract some of the liquid, Claire brought it close to her lips. Before she drank it, she looked to her new servant suspiciously, “You know that if this kills me, your purpose will never be completed, and you’ll stay here forever, right?” “Mistress, I am offended! I promise you that if I wanted to kill you, it would be in a far more… entertaining manner… ” Pereni narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. Preparing for the worst, Claire drank the spoonful of liquid, and was upset to discover how right she was about not thinking it would taste good. It tasted like chalk that had been laced with sugar. She took a second to thank the universe that she wasn’t born in the Nether, where this kind of stuff was what counted as food. Once she’d forced it down, she began inspecting her body for any changes. She noted with some trepidation that Pereni was watching excitedly. A slight tingle began in her chest, and worked its way down to her stomach. She marvelled at this feeling, wondering if she’d at last found the missing piece of the puzzle. Then, however, the tingle turned into a painful cramping sensation. She winced at the feeling, and clutched her gut. Then the cramp became an urge, and a very desperate one at that. It happened so quickly that Claire barely had time to register what the sensation was, at least until she felt a different sensation in her underwear. Her butt had suddenly become warm and sticky, and she then became cognizant of the fact that she was filling her panties. Her mess rushed out of her, noisily bulging out her underwear underneath her robe. Her waste just kept flowing out of her, until there was well and truly nothing left to expel. Her panties sagged downwards, and there was hardly a movement she could make that wouldn’t cause it to squish against her. Pereni erupted in laughter. “Oh deary me!” The succubus managed to say in between her laughs, “I’ve forgotten that humans aren’t supposed to eat netherbloom! Oh silly me!” She smiled smugly, looking right into Claire’s eyes. “You little runt… ” Claire struggled to say, her voice strained. “Now you listen here, lady!” Pereni used her wings to float a few feet into the air, to seem taller than Claire, “I didn’t ask you to summon me! I can’t help with your magic drink, and I don’t want to! If you weren’t such a crappy mage, this wouldn’t have been a problem for either of us,” She smirked when she said the word “crappy.” “I’m gonna… ” Claire said, but could hardly move as the pain in her stomach intensified. “You’re gonna sit there and crap your pants for the next fifteen minutes, Miss Killjoy,” She pointed her thumb at her chest, “Me? I’m gonna go have some fun while you find the answers to this stupid project of yours alone,” She landed, and ran for the door. “Don’t wait up!” She called out as it slammed behind her. Claire could only watch before falling to her knees. She guessed that Pereni was a younger succubus, and didn’t know the danger she was in. It was quite unwise for netherlings to stray from their summoner; countless people had very lucrative careers centered around hunting them. One as… hyper as Pereni would not last long. Mustering her willpower, Claire swiped her hands in a pattern in front of her, until they glowed a bright green. Bringing her hand to her chest, the healing energy surged through her, quelling the effects of the toxic brew. What it didn’t cure was the load resting in her underpants. She cringed as she stood. Claire knew that Pereni was about to get herself killed, and she knew that she had to hurry, but… The feeling of it was very disgusting. She could hardly bear to walk to her room to change, let alone leave her house in that state. She would go and bring Pereni back, just as soon as she had on clean panties. ---------------------------------------- Pereni chuckled and giggled for several minutes as she glided away from Claire’s house. The look on that snobby little mage’s face when she started soiling herself was priceless. Although her mirth soon faded when she realized that Claire wasn’t lying about them being in the middle of absolutely nowhere. They were on a cliff with a sheer drop on one side, and forest on the other. She thought she might see a town in the far distance, past the sheer drop, but it was too far for her to fly in a single day. In fact, it seemed as though anywhere was too far for her to fly in a single day. There looked to be nothing for miles around, and she had nowhere to sleep. Nothing to eat. No one to eat. Realizing her predicament, she came to stop, and tried to recall any magic that might help her. “Ahhh, why did I never pay attention when the pit fiends were teaching infernal magic?” She cursed herself. Figuratively, not literally- she skipped curse classes, too. “Oh!” She exclaimed, remembering one particularly handy spell. A succubus matriarch once taught her a trick vampiric creatures used to find prey. She brought her hands together, and uttered some ancient, dark words. When she pulled her hands apart, a purple ball floated in the air where they had been. A spike grew out of the ball, pointing in the direction she had just come from- it was tracking Claire. Disappointed, she inspected the other sides of the orb. She was ready to give up when she noticed a tiny little bump pointing off into the woods. Two tiny little bumps. “Jackpot!” she said, speeding off towards her prospective targets. She hoped very dearly that they had food. ---------- Pereni was exhausted when she finally came upon the travelers. She kept her distance, and watched them for a while. It was two women. One of them looked quite a bit more experienced than the other. The more experienced one wore some old leather armor and gray pants. A bow was slung over one shoulder, and a hefty backpack that Pereni was sure had to have food in it somewhere rested on the ground next to her. Her companion seemed rather dainty by comparison. She wore a simple tunic and traveling pants, and the only weapon she seemed to have on her was a little dagger. As a succubus, Pereni needed gratification as well as food in order to survive, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she might be able to knock out both needs at once. Watching the two women, one of them said something that elicited a warm smile from the other, and they embraced each other with a quick hug and kiss. Pereni cursed quietly. If they’d just been friends, she could possibly have bedded one or even both of them; the fact that they were a couple- and a happy one at that- meant it would be much harder to seduce them. More experienced succubi took great pleasure in tempting the most dedicated partners into sleeping with them, but Pereni was not nearly skilled enough to do so. She’d just have to settle for food. Should be easy enough. Formulating a plan, Pereni realized that she’d have to rely solely on deception, as she never bothered to learn any real combat magic. The woman with the bow looked like trouble, so she’d have to really lay on the illusion spells to chase them off. Lucky for her, even the laziest succubus possessed an incredible knowledge of illusion magic. Imagining herself as a much taller, more imposing figure; clad in spiked, black armor (still skimpy, though; some habits don’t die); and wielding a wicked sword with jagged edges, she cast the spell. A purple light shone through the brush, no doubt catching the attention of the young couple. “Wha-” The more skilled of the two scrambled for her bow, “Who’s there?!” She called. With a graceful, mature stride, Pereni emerged from the shadows. Her illusion spell had made her appear as a matriarch- a far more powerful and dangerous creature. The look on both the human women’s faces was proof enough that it had worked. The armored one was clearly unnerved, and the smaller one was shivering. “My, my,” Pereni began, her voice made to sound more intimidating than she could naturally pull off, “What do we have here? Two lost little girls?” “Stay back, whatever you are!” The archer commanded, drawing back her bowstring. She was clearly aiming for Pereni’s head. “Foolish child,” Pereni intoned, “You aren’t going to hurt me with that little toy,” “‘Little toy,’ huh?” The archer launched her arrow. As Pereni had planned, it soared through her illusory head- more than a foot above her actual head, which was hidden by the spell. To the humans, the attack appeared to have been completely ineffective. They couldn’t see Pereni’s actual face, with her eyes wide in alarm. Nor could they see her actual panties, now dampened by a short spurt of pee. Swiftly regaining her composure, Pereni spoke, “A fine attempt, I suppose.” The succubus lifted her conjured sword, as if preparing for a strike. Ooh! Better idea! She thought, as she altered her illusion slightly to make the blade of the sword erupt into flames. The archer reached for another arrow, but fumbled terribly, and dropped it. She took a frightened step back, bumping into her friend that hid behind her. The smaller woman steadied her, but both were clearly only moments from fainting. If there was one thing Pereni could do, it was illusion magic. She took another step towards the couple. Both of them were shaking. A hissing sound filled the air, and Pereni smirked, expecting to see a spreading stain on the smaller woman’s pants. She was surprised then, when she noticed the pee streaming from the cuffs of the archer’s trousers. Given their leather make, no wetness showed on the outside, but she was most certainly urinating hard into them. Droplets, streams, and twin rivers spilled out of her pants, loudly splashing onto the now wet dirt under her. “Ha ha! And here I thought you were the brave one, dear,” Pereni taunted. The archer’s face burned red when she realized what she’d done. With her unoccupied hand, she grabbed at her crotch, and squeezed her thighs together. Pee continue to flow unabated into her pants. Pereni drew close enough to whisper into the woman’s ear, “You know, if you start running now, you just might make it… ” As the words reached them, the two women, mute with fear, turned and sprinted as fast as they could. Pereni’s eyes went wide when she noticed the large bulge in the back of the daintier woman’s pants. Maybe Ms. Archer won’t be so embarrassed after all, huh? She did not envy that the woman had to run to… wherever it was they were running in such heavily soiled panties. “Do all humans just mess themselves at the drop of a hat?” The succubus wondered aloud. Once she was sure the humans were gone, she practically dove towards the backpack they’d left behind. Ripping it open, she rifled through its contents until she came upon a small loaf of bread. She tore into it, not taking the time to relish the bites. ---------------------------------------- “Meredith! Meredith!” The paladin heard her name called. She recognized the voice, too. Sure enough, she emerged from her tent to see the two new recruits running towards her. Their faces were pale, and they looked absolutely terrified. “Where were you two?” Meredith demanded, as soon as they reached her. She sniffed the air, “And what is that stench?” “Mere… dith… ” The recruit with a bow panted, still catching her breath. “Did something attack you? I remember giving you both specific instructions not to leave this campsite without supervision.” “Demon… in the woods… ” The other woman replied. Meredith’s face hardened, and she gripped the handle of her sword, “Is there, now?” ---------------------------------------- “Man, this girl’s such a little softie,” Pereni mused, as she flipped through a small diary she’d found in the backpack. She sat on a pile of stuff that fell out when she’d upended the backpack onto the ground, lazily flipping through the pages. It was also full of little anecdotes and recordings of random things that happened to her. It was also inundated with lovey-dovey trite about her girlfriend that made Pereni gag. Pereni’s giggling stopped when she reached the most recent section. The woman had written about her involvement with a paladin. Apparently she and her partner were to begin to apprentice under a holy knight. That sparked some worry in the young succubus’ heart; paladins were bad news. She’d never truly fought with mortals before, but every demon knew to fear the paladins. Her worry got the better of her, and she once again cast her spell to track nearby people. Performing the short incantation, the orb once again levitated above her hand. As she feared, there was a spike indicating someone’s presence, and not too far from her. “Huh?” She muttered when the orb spun, the psike pointing in a different direction. It spun again, and then began to constantly tilt and turn, the spike shrinking and growing. Something was interfering with her magic. Her throat suddenly felt quite dry. Maybe… Maybe Claire’s house isn’t such a bad place to stay after all… She spread her wings, and lifted herself a few feet into the air, rejuvenated by the stolen food she’d eaten. She was pretty sure she remembered the way back. She just needed to get there before- “Hello there, demon.” A stern and rather unfriendly voice called out. Pereni covered her mouth to suppress a scream of surprise. She spun around in the air, facing a human woman in silver armor. She was tall- very tall. Pereni was short for her age, sure, but this goliath woman stood about twice as tall as her. Long hair so blonde it was nearly stark white hung down to her back. Her body was completely hidden under her armor, but even so, Pereni could tell that woman had quite a bit of muscle to boast. “Um, hello there, miss… ” Pereni struggled to hide her fear, but after only a moment, her fear gave her an idea. With a quick flourish, she landed, and cast another spell. Her appearance shifted once again, to that of a small human girl. Pouring extra magic into the spell, it would also mess with the head of anyone who saw her, causing them to forget that she was ever anything but what the illusion made her look like. She put on her best scared-and-innocent-child look, “Please don’t hurt me, miss!” The paladin narrowed her eyes, then scoffed at Pereni’s disguise. She waved her hand, as if parting a curtain, and the disguise faded away just like that. Pereni quickly inspected her body, verifying that she was back to her red-skinned, horned self. The paladin advanced, drawing her sword. Shit! Shit! Shit! Pereni began to panic internally, trying to think of what to do next. She’d excelled at scaring people earlier, and decided upon trying to scare her attacker away. Using the last of her magic, she cast the most disturbing illusion she could think of. Her body contorted, twisted, and transformed into a vile, demonic monstrosity. “Well, little knight, if you’re so eager to see what I truly look like, I’d be happy to oblige-” The paladin extended her unarmed hand outwards, towards the succubus. Golden light erupted from her palm, striking Pereni like a divine hammer. Her illusion was dispelled instantly, and she was thrown through the air. She landed on her back, dazed and aching. She tried to rise, but was swiftly forced back down by a concentrated stream of holy energy. Like fire, it burned, and Pereni could do little but scream and writhe in pain. “My name is Meredith Eyne, and I will be your end, you vile thing.” The paladin, Meredith, decreed. She strode forward, still smiting Pereni with holy magic. Meredith’s sword radiated deadly energy. Just looking at the weapon, Pereni swore she could feel the sword just wanting to kill her. Her bladder voided in her fear, spraying piss onto herself. Given that she only wore a pair of black panties, there was little to conceal her accident. Her underwear was saturated almost immediately, and a strong stream ran through them. She still was rolling around from the pain of the spell, sending waves of pee over each of her thighs in turn, and causing her to splash around in the steadily growing pool of her own urine. At last, the pain came to an end as Meredith lowered her hand. “Have you no dignity, monster? Netherlings are meant to be made of pride.” Pereni hardly listened, being too relieved that the barrage of scathing magic had ended. Her senses returned to her, and she reopened her eyes. Meredith was standing over her, sword at the ready. The succubus lifted herself up slightly, onto her elbows. She tried to crawl backwards, but she could hardly move. Faced now with the certainty of death, Pereni’s bowels released themselves. Her soaked panties tented sharply before her mess spread across her backside. In the tense silence of the moment, the squelching sound was perfectly audible. Meredith nearly recoiled in disgust at the sight of it. Given what she’d been up to all day, Pereni couldn’t help but wonder if this was simply karma. ---------------------------------------- “Please stop, madam paladin!” Claire shouted, only barely catching Meredith’s attention. She’d arrived just in the nick of time. “Stay back!” Meredith commanded, “She’s a netherling- a demon. I need to put her down.” At the paladin’s feet, a truly pitiful Pereni looked to her with the most pleading eyes she’d ever seen. Even from a distance, Claire could see the puddle around the young succubus’ thighs. “I’m well aware of what she is. I summoned her. She is my responsibility.” This piqued Meredith’s interest. Her hand shimmered with heavenly light, and suddenly Pereni was bound to the ground by golden chains. The paladin stepped away from her, and walked towards Claire. The mage could see that Meredith had no interest in resolving this situation diplomatically. “Consorting with the nether makes you just as irredeemable as the creatures from it, witch.” “Please, miss,” Claire pleaded, in the tone of someone wishing to avoid some small inconvenience, “I don’t want to fight you. That girl is harmless, and she is my assistant.” Meredith looked her over briefly, then lunged forward, sword cutting through the air. In an instant, a pillar of lightning fell from the sky, striking the paladin. When the blinding light had dissipated, Meredith stood still, then began to wobble. Claire had weakened her own lightning spell enough to keep it from killing or seriously harming the paladin. It was most certainly enough to render her unconscious, though. Meredith remain standing for some time, all things considered. Claire noted with some sympathy that urine was streaming through the gaps in her armor. She could hear some rather unladylike noises, and knew that the paladin had just soiled herself as well. That was a shame that Pereni had ensured Claire was acquainted with, and she felt genuinely sorry for the woman. Eventually, Meredith finally succumbed to unconsciousness, and fell over. “I’m sorry, my friend,” Claire said as she walked by the paladin, towards Pereni. Once she reached her, she quickly dispelled the magical chains that bound her. Pereni swung her arms out, and wrapped Claire in a hug. Unlike their previous interactions, there was no sexual suggestion in the act, just pure gratitude. “Are you okay, Pereni?” Claire asked as she helped the netherling to her feet. “I… I think so… ” Pereni attempted to cover the wet stain on the front of her panties with her hands, and faced Claire so that the bulge on her backside was not visible. Claire did her best to avoid staring at the girl’s obvious accidents. “But… how did you find us?” “Easy, I just used a spell to track netherlings.” With no incantation whatsoever, Claire produced a complex series of magical runes in the air above her hand. “And was that lightning from you?” The runes vanished, and in the blink of an eyes lightning crackled between her fingers, “Yes. Although I lessened the intensity of the spell so as not to kill her. Don’t want even more paladins coming after us.” Pereni’s mouth hung open for a moment before she spoke, “But… isn’t that an extremely difficult spell to cast? You can just… do it?” With a lazy flick of her wrist, Claire arced the lightning from her fingers into a random tree. The bark was shredded apart, and the tree was blasted in half. The shocked look on Pereni’s face made Claire chuckle. “I did say I knew most of the advanced spells.” “So um… ” Pereni looked back at Claire, seeming rather uneasy, “No hard feelings about that little prank with the netherbloom, right? Ha ha… ” She tried to play it off as a joke, but Claire could see little trickles of fresh urine running down Pereni’s bare legs. “No hard feelings.” Pereni released a breath, and sighed in relief. A groan from behind Claire reminded them of their guest. Meredith was still out cold, but was stirring. “I still can’t believe you took her out in one hit,” Pereni mused, “But what we actually gonna do about her? She knows we’re out here, now.” “Hmm, good point.” Claire thought for a moment before a solution came to her, “Ah! I know! A dream spell.” “Dream spell?” “It’s as simple as it sounds. It makes you have dreams about whatever you want. I can use it on her, and make her dream that she defeated both of us. She should be dazed enough to not be able to tell that it was only a dream, whenever she wakes up.” Claire started weaving the spell together. She made sure to include an epic battle in which the paladin was struck with a lightning blast. She blushed when she had to weave the bit of the dream where Meredith wet and soiled herself, but she needed to make sure she wouldn’t ask any questions. With a stunning strike, dream-Meredith struck down the evil dream-Claire, and then passed out due to the exhaustion of the fight. The bodies of their dream-selves dissipated into netherfire, leaving no trace of them. “Aaaannnddd… there,” Claire proclaimed as she finished the spell. A short silence passed before Pereni spoke, “So, um… Are you still in the market for an assistant… Mistress?” Claire rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I think I am.” “And, are we ever going to speak of how we both crapped our pants?” Claire’s smile was replaced by an awkward blush, “I think not.” “Then it looks like we have a deal! Now let’s get out of here before she wakes up.”
  15. Oh, I would love to see some Nora omo. Definitely a favorite character of mine. Second chapter was great, too.
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