DsGSilver

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DsGSilver last won the day on March 1 2017

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  1. [Mass Effect] Miranda's Issue

    Desperation or no desperation is fine by me, long as there's an accident.
  2. [Mass Effect] Miranda's Issue

    Mass Effect omo is always a treat, especially when it involves Miranda. Excited for more!
  3. Into the Wilderness

    Agreed. See what further info we can squeeze out of them, then probably rest up for the night and prepare to set out.
  4. Into the Wilderness

    I vote that we try and get to know our prospective companions a bit more, first. Try and segue into asking for more info on what they're planning.
  5. Into the Wilderness

    Let's use that Charisma score, and see if they need a hired hand with whatever they're planning.
  6. Into the Wilderness

    Whatever the 3 people are looking at could be interesting. I vote them.
  7. I really want to thank Blizzard for providing us with so many wonderful waifus to abuse. Oh, and for anyone who didn't see my status update: continuations to the WoW story and for Journey to Arnwick are coming, and soon. Anyway, hope you enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five figures sat around a table, a glowing hologram hovering in the air before them. Sombra recognized the building; it was a very large facility built out of Dorado. She’d been there. Now, Talon was ordering her back. “You know, I still have access to their entire database,” Sombra chimed in, eyeing Reyes (or Reaper, as he was known now) through the hologram. “You don’t have access to what we need,” Reaper replied, voice tinged with annoyance, “The data is-” “Not kept unsecured,” Moira interrupted, earning her irritated looks from both Sombra and Reaper, but she didn’t drop her smug smile. Tapping a few buttons on her end of the table, the hologram shifted to images of various documents, “This is highly sensitive corporate information- capable of building or breaking economies, they keep it on a separate, secure network,”. “Might I inquire as to what we intend to do with this information?” Widowmaker asked, her interest superficial at best. “That’s classified,” Moira answered, her smug grin widening. Sombra thought that Moira must have been hoping someone would ask, just so she could say that. She rolled her eyes at the Irish woman’s shenanigans. “It’s for a special project,” Reaper explained, “One being pursued by Doctor O’Deorain, here,” he gestured to Moira. He was getting tired of explaining. “You do know we’re not grunts, right?” Sombra asked, shooting very pointed looks at Reaper and Moira, “We’re all members of the same inner circle, so I don’t see why you can’t tell us anything,”. Reaper sighed, then said “Because-” “Because you won’t understand,” Moira interrupted. That struck a nerve for Sombra, who leaned forward with her arms on the table, glaring at Moira, who just smugly smiled. Before the argument could proceed any further, however, a deep voice cleared its throat from the far end of the table. Sombra shrank back in her chair. Moira’s expression simply turned to blank disinterest, but she did keep quiet. There was an unspoken, yet very real rule among Talon: when Doomfist speaks, you listen. “The nature of this project is very sensitive, and we cannot risk anyone learning of it who shouldn’t. So information is on a strictly need-to-know basis,”. Akande, or Doomfist was he was much more well known, spoke with finality, clearly not wanting any further dissent. “Furthermore,” Doomfist continued, “The facility is on high alert, and security is too strong for us to break through,” he looked over Sombra, Widowmaker, and Moira, “That is why you three will be undertaking this mission. Reyes and I would alert the entire city,”. Sombra sighed deeply. They were right, of course, those two couldn’t do anything quietly, so it was certain to fall to them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sombra stood alone in a room full of her equipment. As she loaded numerous magazines and prepared several teleporters for the mission ahead, she jumped slightly as strange sound, like a harsh wind, broke the silence. She knew the sound was none other than Moira, abusing her ability to teleport. “What?” Sombra asked impatiently. “So hostile,” Moira put her hands behind her back, standing in her favorite authoritarian pose, “I was just ensuring you were prepared for the mission ahead, Sombra,”. “I am, Moira,” “So you say, but I don’t believe I see any diapers among your inventory,” Sombra paused as she finished preparing her SMG; she made of show of inserting a fresh magazine into while looking at Moira out of the corner of her eye. “Forgive me, but after looking through your records...” Moira placed a hand on her chin while looking at the ceiling, recalling, “You and Widowmaker were both frightened into both wetting and soiling yourselves in your two most recent outings. Prior to this, I have numerous records of you leaking any amount from droplets to completely making a mess of yourself in nearly every engagement you’ve been in. Hardly fitting for a master of stealth, wouldn’t you say?” “If you think you’ve got dirt on me, you should see what I’ve got on you...” Sombra warned. “You misunderstand me, Sombra,” Moira placed a hand on her chest, to emphasize her honesty, “Consider this a sort of olive branch. I’ve developed a treatment that should eliminate any and all manner of stress and fear incontinence,”. Moira had a look in her eye, one Sombra recognized as excitement. Getting to test these formulas was fun for her. “Did you give this “treatment” to Widow, too?” Sombra asked, skeptically. “Certainly not! She already has 200 things wrong with her body, and I’m not about to throw another ingredient into that time bomb,”. “Well, thanks but no thanks. I’ll try it after you’ve had a few other guinea pigs,”. “Understandable,” Moira said simply, “Make sure you’re prepared, we leave in an hour,”. In a quick flash of purple fog, Moira was gone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorado was peacefully quiet as Mei walked through a town square, where the remnants of a festival were strewn about. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and, along with the colorful lights and decorations, cast everything into an ethereal glow. Mei was quite happy to be here, quite calmed by the beautiful sights this place had to offer. It was almost enough to distract her from her desperate need to use the restroom. Her control had been improving substantially, enough that she didn’t even need to wear any manner of protection most of the time. She’d even been able to avoid having accidents on most of the missions she set out on. Most. She hoped this would number among her dry ones. All they had to do was wait around for some information to be offloaded from a computer, and Mei hadn’t seen any sign of any interference, so this was mostly just a test of everyone’s patience. And bladder control, she realized, as she pressed her hands into her groin. A worried look crossed her face, as she walked through the streets, hunting for a bathroom. She was totally alone, and no one would judge her, or even know, if she were to relieve herself… pretty much anywhere out here. Since the inhabitant of Dorado seemingly had no need for bathrooms, she might have to. Blushing slightly as she prepared to drop her pants, she jumped a little as she heard a sound like a strong wind. Fumbling for her cryo gun, she felt her light blue panties warm up slightly at the crotch. She heard that strange sound again, this time from behind her. As she whirled about, she saw a woman of colossal stature standing before her. As she raised her cryo gun, the woman quickly gripped it in her right hand, creating a purple cloud around the weapon. Mei dropped it as she felt her only means of defense disintegrate under the woman’s touch. Shaking slightly, Mei began to back away from the tall woman, who now stood with her hands behind her back, and a smug, condescending look on her face. Mei gasped sharply and looked down at her legs as she felt the dam burst. Hot urine spilled down her large thighs, the stain rapidly spreading around her groin, reaching up the creases where those thighs met her pelvis. The fabric of her blue pants turned dark blue as the pee flowed down her legs, right into her boots. She took another step back, and felt (and heard) the squish of her now urine-filled boots. She could even feel some of the cooling warmth reach up to her butt. Mei teared up as her dry streak was ruined. “I’ll never fully understand why they hired an incontinent climatologist to partake in combat operations,” the woman mused. “Who are you? Why are you here?” Mei demanded, just barely managing to keep her voice from cracking. “That’s classified, and that’s classified,” The woman took a step forward, extending her hand, which was cloaked in that purple fog, “And, on that note, I really shouldn’t leave any witnesses,” As she reached out towards her with her disintegrating hand, Mei closed her eyes, and noticed that her bottom was no longer being hugged by her wet panties. She’d hardly even felt herself start voiding her bowels, but now a considerable log had tented out her pants and panties quite a bit. She wanted so badly to run, but her legs could hardly move. Just as soon as she regained control of her body, the tall woman’s hand reached her, but she did not evaporate. The woman had only placed her hand on Mei’s shoulder, disintegrating cloud nowhere to be seen. “So perhaps you should leave this place, little scientist,” The woman had a strange expression, one Mei almost thought resembled one of camaraderie, “My companions will not be as forgiving as I am,”. “W-why are you letting me go?” Mei asked, hoping that the offer was genuine. “I am here in the pursuit of science. If I murder another woman of science, I won’t truly be helping the cause very much,”. Ah. Mei was being spared due to her role as a scientist. “Attempt to interfere, however, and I suspect climatology may lose one of its favorite researchers,”. With those words, the woman vanished into a cloud of smoke. Mei’s heart was racing, and her legs were shaking underneath her. Placing a hand on her chest and breathing heavily, she sat down on a nearby chair, hardly giving a thought to the squishy mess that spread across her butt as she did so. She was terrified, uncertain who that woman was, or what companions she had brought with her, but she knew that she had to warn the others. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Zarya paced around slowly. For the last few hours, she’d been patrolling the streets outside the facility, and she’d scarcely seen even any bugs, much less intruders. She was bored. Extremely bored. She knew she really shouldn’t hope something bad happened, but at that point, she’d have welcomed any sort of excitement. As she continued her route through the moonlit streets, a mechanical, beeping sound filled the quiet air. She smirked at the promise of a little action, and hoisted up her massive weapon. Sure enough, as walked towards the source of the noise, footsteps were audible. They certainly weren’t Mei’s, which meant whoever it was was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Another sound, one she knew well, made her eyes widen. She heard what she knew to be Sombra’s teleporter directly behind her. Activating her suit’s special ability, she preemptively projected a shield around herself. And none too soon, as a flurry of bullets slammed into it. The Talon hacker was there when she turned around, with a smirk that quickly dissolved as she realized her prey wasn’t dead. Using the energy her shield had absorbed, Zarya opened fire with her weapon, the huge beam impacting Sombra’s shoulder as the hacker dove to the side. More techno noises, which Zarya knew meant Sombra was now invisible, and slinking around somewhere close by. Everything was silent, and she could feel her heart beating in her ears. Those computerized sounds were heard once more, but Zarya was caught off-guard as the noises came from above her. Wasting no time, she once again activated her shield, and lifted her beam cannon up to fire, when Sombra unleashed a massive energy pulse. The bubble shield around Zarya was destroyed instantly, as was the personal shield projected by her suit. As she continually tried to reactivate her barrier, her suit simply couldn’t. She was totally vulnerable. And Sombra knew it. Aiming for Zarya’s center of mass, Sombra opened fire, several bullets crashing into the muscular woman’s armor. Thanks to said armor, none of them actually embedded themselves in her body, but hell if it didn’t hurt like they had. As she stumbled backwards, perhaps it was the impact of the bullets, perhaps it the fear, perhaps both, but Zarya’s large bowels voided themselves. With a very low pblrpblrpblrpblrpblr followed by a very wet skrltch, her mess slid into her panties. It was solid at first, but quickly turned soft. A ball of mess the size of an apple rested between her buttcheeks. As her abdomen ached from the damage it had sustained, Zarya put her hands over it, clutching it in pain. A few quiet seconds after she soiled herself, another, much louder SQUELCH accompanied even more mess as it rushed into her panties. Even softer than the first load, the new mess quickly spread out, filling up her panties and stretching them out. Sombra was loving the display before her, “What, you’re not gonna wet your pants, too?” she said with a chuckle. “Looking for someone to share your pain?” Zarya replied. Even outside of Talon, Sombra’s tendency for accidents was known. Her mirth vanished, and Sombra prepared her SMG. As she took a step towards Zarya, something that resembled a metal disk suddenly bounced off the wall next to her, clearly surprising both women. As they looked at it, it began to float into the air, and both realized what it was. It was Mei’s little ice-generating robot, Snowball. Zarya continued to look on in surprise, and Sombra in fear. Everyone knew to flee from Mei’s little robot. With its cute little eyes, it winked to Zarya, then began to unleash a furious blizzard upon Sombra, who yelped in fear and turned to run. As her running speed slowed and slowed, she threw out one of her teleporter beacons, and vanished from sight. Looking down the path the spy had fled, Zarya chuckled as she noticed small puddle of pee on the ground, as well as numerous smaller drops here and there. Sombra’s extensive record of pissing herself continued. Of course, she was hardly in a position to judge. Her pants and panties were sagging badly under the immense weight of her mess. She placed her hand on her rear, feeling the massive lump there. Given how soft it was, the mess quishes under her hand, even with hardly any force. Snowball began beeping at her, getting her attention. It seemed to want her to follow it. As she chased after the little robot, it led her to Mei, who was nervously pacing back and forth. She looked up at Zarya, and her expression changed to pure relief. “Zarya!” She cried, “You’re okay!” “Thanks to your little robot,” She said. As Zarya looked Mei over, she noticed Mei’s soaked pants, and another smell in the air, aside from her own mess, “Are you okay?” she asked, eyeing Mei’s obvious accidents. Mei looked down and flushed with embarrassment, nervously placing her hands over her groin, “Some woman attacked me, I’d never seen her before,” Mei sniffed the air, and scrunched her nose, “What about you?”. “Sombra,” She said simply. “I got hit in the gut, and, well...” She turned to the side, permitting Mei a view of the colossal bulge on her butt. Zarya hardly felt any shame in her accident; certainly none in Mei knowing about it. If there was one person she could count on to not judge, it was Mei. “We need to warn the others!” Mei said, mercifully changing the topic. “Agreed, let’s go,”. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pharah flew low, just outside the facility she was to protect. She’d heard gunfire only a few moments ago. No one had reported any intruders, and there were no other signs of a problem, but Pharah wasn’t about to gamble the safety of her objective. She landed on a rooftop, and crouched. With her keen vision, she inspected the town around her. Everything looked clear. That is, until her eyes settled on a purple object in the distance. Pharah looked closely, and it was nearly too late by the time she noticed. A high-powered sniper bullet raced towards her head, and it was only her quick realization that kept it from finding its target. She pulled away quickly, feeling her head jerk a little as the bullet grazed her helmet. Diving back, behind a concrete wall on the building’s roof, Pharah was panting heavily as her life flashed before her eyes. She lifted her hands up, and felt around her helmet for damage. Where the bullet had met the metal, there was now a deep cut in the metal. Had she been another inch forward… As the adrenaline faded, and sensation returned to her body, Pharah noticed that her crotch was wet. Groaning in annoyance, she spread and closed her legs repeatedly, trying to gauge the extent of her accident through her armor. Her womanhood was cold and clammy, now, but that felt like the extent of it. She must have only lost a little when Widowmaker shot at her. She hoped it hadn’t been enough to stain the uniform pants she wore under her armor, and that only her boxer briefs were wet. Once that was out of the way, Pharah started to think up a plan. Widowmaker was an expert sniper, and at such a range, she was sure to hit Pharah before Pharah could hit her. After a moment, she came up with a plan. It was a risky plan, but it just might work. She readied her jump jets and her rocket launcher, steadied her breathing, then launched into the air. She knew Widowmaker would be taking aim immediately, so she wasted no time in unleashing a barrage of missiles at the sniper’s perch. Even from here, she could see Widowmaker lower her rifle, and use her grappling hook to swing to safety. Pharah released the breath she’d been holding as her plan paid off. Widowmaker had been driven off, allowing her time to return to the facility. As Pharah descended, she realized that the fear that had surged through had caused her to empty what was left in her bladder. She blushed furiously as she urinated on herself, flooding her boxer briefs and drenching her pants. She could feel the hot wetness seeping down her well-toned thighs. Most of her pee was either contained by her armor or absorbed by her pants, but several drops managed to escape through the gaps in her armor, falling to the ground below. Pharah thanked the heavens that you couldn’t see her accident through her armor. There were more important things to think about than her soggy pants, though. She’d only bought herself time to escape from Widowmaker. Her allies would need help reinforcing the facility. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tracer sat on the ground, talking with Orisa. The massive robot seemed intimidating at first, but after only a couple moments of talking, it was clear that Orisa was just a big teddy bear. A highly-armed, titanium teddy bear, sure, but a teddy bear nonetheless. Supposedly, the door containing some top-secret information sat just behind them. Tracer didn’t know whether or not that was true, of course, since the door was locked. And reinforced. And had a keypad with a 20-number-long code sequence. And was huge enough that even Orisa, the disaster relief robot, couldn’t lift it. Tracer wondered if it was bad that she made the robot try to break into the chamber. Their conversation was interrupted as a sweaty, frantic Pharah burst into the room, startling Tracer so much she fell backwards from her sitting position. “Fareeha!” Tracer shouted in surprise, “What’sa matter?” “Talon is here,” Pharah removed her helmet, and gestured to the damaged portion, “Widowmaker almost took my head off. I think there are more out there, too. I haven’t seen Mei or Zarya,”. “Widow’s out there, huh?” A determined look filled Tracer’s face; she was quite excited at the premise of taking down her longtime rival. Pharah walked by them, inspecting the door to the chamber. As she walked by, Tracer could swear she caught the faintest whiff of the ammoniac smell of urine. She knew how much accidents like that distressed Pharah, so she decided to avoid bringing it up. Orisa, on the other hand, spoke without a care in the world, “I am detecting several indicators that you may have lost control of your bladder during the fight,”. Pharah turned about and stared daggers at the robot, who seemed to have no idea why she might want to keep such a thing private. Tracer couldn’t help but giggle. Pharah cleared her throat, then spoke, “Yes, Orisa… I wet my pants when Widowmaker almost shot me in the head,” her teeth were gritted as she spoke. “It is not uncommon for people- even professionals such as yourself- to experience bouts of incontinence in the face of mortal danger. Many of the individuals I have saved from numerous disasters had wet and/or soiled themselves. I am well-versed in aiding in the clean up-” “No, Orisa. I’m fine. Thanks.” Pharah forced a smile, looking like she was on the verge of defecting to Talon. “You’re welcome,” Orisa replied cheerily. Tracer broke into a fit of laughter. If this kept up, she’d be going home in soggy pants, too. Wiping a tear from her eye, Tracer drew her twin SMGs, “Back to business. You two stay here and guard the door, I’ll go see if I can find the others!” “Wait, Tracer!” Pharah began, but Tracer blinked away before she could say anything. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Widowmaker perched atop a building, she looked around with satisfaction at the total lack of any defenses around the facility. She knew Pharah must still be inside, but she would be easy prey. With a flash of pink to her right, and a flash or purple to her left, Sombra and Moira both materialized onto the rooftop. “Defenses?” Moira asked, steepling her fingers in a supervillainy way. “I took down their cameras and security systems,” Sombra replied. “No one outside,” Widowmaker said. Tapping her visor, it descended to cover her eyes, granting her infrared vision, “I see Pharah and a robot inside the building,”. “Then it sounds like this mission is nearly over,” Moira smiled her arrogant smile. “Sombra, you and I will sneak in and remove whatever security remains. Widowmaker, prepare to give us covering fire,”. The other two women nodded their agreement, and Sombra and Moira both vanished off the rooftop. Using her state-of-the-art grappling hook to navigate the various rooftops, she stopped when she heard voices below her. Peering over the side, she saw Zarya and Mei, both hurrying towards the facility. She noted that both of them were running bow-legged. Drawing her sniper rifle, she took aim. As the crosshair closed in on Zarya, rapid footsteps approached Widowmaker. Lowering her rifle, she turned around to behold Tracer sprinting towards her, pulse bomb in hand. “Present for ya!” she shouted as she dropped the deadly explosive at Widowmaker’s feet. Tracer used her recall ability, and vanished, leaving only a wide-eyed Widowmaker. With no other options, she leapt from the roof. A thunderous explosion filled the night as her previous position was thoroughly obliterated. She landed on her feet, but the impact quickly forced her onto her knees. She put her hands on the ground to steady herself as she attempted to steady her breathing. She tried to ignore the numerous wet trails flowing down her thighs. She clenched herself, but her purple panties were wet for sure, now. More footsteps approached her, and she hesitantly raised her head and saw Zarya and Mei approaching her. Zarya was readying her beam cannon. Widowmaker could make out a soft hssssssssssssssss as her bladder then fully emptied into her suit. Two puddles grew around her knees that were planted in the ground, before joining into one huge, yellow puddle. She felt her stomach suddenly grow lighter, and realized she was about to crap herself, too. Many of her emotions were deadened, but this certainly did hurt whatever dignity she had left. With a quiet crackle, the contents of her stomach became the contents of her underwear. The rear of her suit, previously contoured perfectly to her butt, tented out sharply as her mess stretched the fabric out. It lost its form after a moment, and turned into a squishy mass. The annoyance of this was severe, but she pushed her accidents out of her mind, and focused on finding a way out of this. Zarya and Mei now stood almost right in front of her. Widow used the only offensive tool she still had, her poison mine. Raising her arm as quickly as she could, her wrist-mounted launcher fired the mine at Zarya’s feet, detonating it. A cloud of gas filled the air, and as Mei and Zarya fled from it, Widowmaker grappled to the nearest rooftop. Her position was compromised, and she’d been disarmed. She could be of no further help this operation. She radioed for extraction. If Sombra and Moira were successful, they’d need their getaway to be present, anyway. She tried to observe her enemies without being seen, and saw Mei and Zarya nervously continuing their walk to the facility. Blue flashes in the distance indicated Tracer would return there far sooner. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moira and Sombra entered the massive facility. The sounds of computers and machinery filled the air. Sombra loaded up a holographic map she’d managed to download, and located the room they were after. They’d already encountered several protectors, and Moira was sure they’d only meet more inside the facility. As they approached a sleek, futuristic hallway that lead towards their goal, Sombra stopped Moira, then cloaked. A moment later, she reappeared, and spoke “I see Pharah and a big robot, and Tracer,”. “We’re outnumbered, then,” Moira said. “True, but...” Sombra gave a sly smile, “My EMP pulse is charged up again,” “And my Coalescence is ready,” For once, the two shared their smug smiles. After a moment of preparation and planning, the two had agreed upon a plan: Moira would distract them while Sombra hacked open the door, whereupon Moira would teleport inside. Once both were inside, Sombra would close the door. With a nod of affirmation, Sombra cloaked and ran towards the door. Moira was mentally bracing herself. Her whole body felt slightly cold and numb. She was more than prepared for a combat operation, but she was about to face off against three people, all armed. Though her cold exterior did not show it, she was quite nervous. Once she felt she had given Sombra enough time, she walked down the hallway, emerging into a large, open chamber. With no hesitation, the robot placed down a barrier in front of its two companions. Both Pharah and Tracer readied their weapons, aiming them towards her. “Who’re you?” Tracer said, after apparently realizing that she had no idea who Moira was. “A scientist,” She smirked, “One who needs that data you’re guarding very badly,”. “I recommend you surrender,” The robot said, in an innocent-sounding voice. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned,” Said Pharah. “Outnumbered, yes...” Moira grinned, “Outgunned? Hardly”. Her right hand cut through the air, flinging a purple ball towards the chamber’s protectors. They huddled behind the robot’s barrier, and panic filled their eyes as the ball passed through the barrier like it wasn’t even there. With little purple streams of energy, the ball got to work disintegrating the protectors. Hearing the two biological ones yell in pain as they ran away from the death ball, Moira noted with satisfaction that they’d been forced from behind their shield. Targeting Pharah, Moira fired her disintegrating beam at her. Large strips and chunks of the woman’s armor were vanishing from sight. Seeing this, Tracer sped towards Moira. Ending her attack, Moira teleported back several yards just as Tracer opened fire on the spot she had stood in only a second ago. Moira had treated plenty of wounds caused by Tracer’s fearsome weapons, and she did not want to be on the receiving end. Tracer prepared to sprint for Moira again, but Moira grinned as she saw the death ball returning. Mentally patting herself on the back for aiming it properly, she watched as the ball struck Tracer once more just as the woman tried to sprint. The shock and pain of it caused her to faceplant into the sleek, metal floor. Hurrying over to the downed fighter, Moira prepared her disintegrating hand, and placed it one Tracer’s face. Moira could plainly hear a loud, wet squelch as the poster child of Overwatch noisily filled her orange pants. She could even see the round little bulge forming between her buttcheeks, which had been so thoughtfully displayed by her tight pants. Furthering her shame, Moira could clearly make out a yellow puddle forming between Tracer’s legs as she lay prone. “This won’t hurt a bit,” Moira said. Before she could deliver the finishing blow, however, she heard the sound of something flying through the air. At her. Jerking her head upward, she went wide-eyed as she saw a blue rocket speeding towards her. She tried to activate her teleportation, but the concussive shell hit her before she could. She was sent flying backwards, and rolled along the ground. She could feel a hot sensation around her womanhood, and realized that the force of the blast knocked a little bit of urine out of her. Not enough to stain her black pants, but enough to be felt. She pulled herself off the ground, and looked over to see Tracer doing the same. Dozens of little pee-droplets were falling off the young hero. Pharah was flying towards her, rocket launcher at the ready. The robot had finally joined in the fray, and seemed to be warming up some sort of Gatling gun. This was bad. Moira could feel the cold-numb sensation of fear clawing its way back into her body. “I repeat: I recommend you surrender,” the robot said. “So do we,” Came an accented voice from elsewhere in the chamber. Moira looked with alarm to see Zarya and Mei entering the fight. Panic began to well within her. There was no way for her to win this fight. No way except Coalescence. As if summoned, Sombra materialized in the air above the Overwatch forces, unleashing her EMP pulse. Everyone’s gear shut down simultaneously. They were vulnerable. Readying her weapon’s ultimate attack, Moira put her hands together, then shot them outward, unleashing a colossal gold and purple laser. Aiming it from one opponent to the next, she fired a continuous stream of death. ---------------------------- Pharah descended from the air, and hid behind cover alongside Zarya and Mei. Not only could she hear the laser digging into the wall they hid behind, she could feel it. Her whole body was tingly. Her heart was racing, and the terror forced her to soil herself. Unconsciously bending her knees ever so slightly, she unloaded into her boxer briefs. Her armor didn’t let her mess bulge out very far, instead flattening it out across her rear end. She felt somewhat sure that this was the last time she’d be wearing these pants, as her mess finished filling her fatigues under her armor. Zarya had a similar reaction, but she had already soiled herself. Instead, the contents of her bladder were lost. Zarya looked down in shock to see wetness flowing down her black pants. Even over the chaos she was taking shelter from, a very loud pssssssssssssss was completely audible. Entire wet sheaths coated the inside of her legs as the urine raced down her well-muscled thighs. Some of the wetness flowed into her boots, but most slid down the sides, depositing into large puddles under her. Zarya felt shame and anger welling up within her- she never lost control out of fear. As a weightlifter, and a veteran, there’d been plenty of times she lost control due to strain or stress, but almost never fear. Contrast that with Mei, who was shaking like a leaf as she hid near them. Fresh urine spilled into her pants, rewarming her now cold and clammy legs. A new wave of mess found its home in her panties as it joined what was already there. She’d already voided herself earlier, but even so, managed to make even more of a mess of her pants. Off in a different corner, Tracer and Orisa took cover. They’d fled here the moment Moira unleashed the laser, and Tracer was out of breath. She slid down the wall she was leaning on, not caring that the firm mess between her buttocks squished under her as she reached the floor. As the laser passed over their hiding spot, eradicating some of their cover, Tracer voided what was left in her bladder. She’d only lost about half of her urine when Moira tried to kill her, and the rest spilled out of her now. The urine flowed from her crotch down to her butt, over the mess that rested in her panties. A small puddle began to grow underneath her. “Do you need a hug?” Orisa ask, observing Tracer’s loss of control. “Honestly?” Tracer replied, still out of breath, “Li’l bit, yeah,”. Tracer meant it sarcastically, but as the friendly robot knelt down and wrapped her into a hug, she realized it was actually pretty comforting. Once the hug ended, Orisa said “If it is of further comfort: I cannot have accidents; but if I could, I’m sure I would right now, too,”. “Thanks,” It wasn’t actually any comfort, but Orisa was trying. ---------------------------- The massive laser ended, and Moira was nearly drained of energy. The path was clear, though, and she sprinted as hard as she could towards Sombra, who was dutifully hacking the door. The robot fired a green ball towards her, which Moira ducked under. A second later, however, she stopped dead in her tracks as the ball pulled her towards. She flew through the air, landing on her knees. She looked up, and gazed directly into the barrel of the robot’s very large cannon. That numb-cold fear returned harder than ever. “I told you to surrender,” the robot said. The many barrels of the gun began to glow green and emit an intense heat. Moira felt another kind of heat as she began to wet her pants. The stream was quiet and slow, but it was steady. A wet circle spread outwards from her womanhood, and dark crescents descended down her long and slender legs. Small rivulets of urine wound around the sides of her legs, ensuring her liquid shame reach all across her shapely legs. A puddle silently developed around her knees. Not content to leave her with some dignity, her bowels opted to relieve themselves, too. Much like her bladder, the release was quiet and slow, as the first log nestled neatly into her panties. Another quickly followed. Her pants were tight, but also fairly elastic, allowing the firm mess to bulge outward fairly far, creating a very large, lumpy bulge on her butt. “My sensors indicate you have both wet and soiled yourself, and are in need of a change,” The robot said. Moira exhaled sharply as the massive gun began to power down, “If you would like to surrender now, we promise not to hurt you,”. Out of the corners of her eyes, Moira could see the others emerging from their cover, all of them having caught their breath, finally. At the other side of the room, Moira looked with delight as she saw the great metal door finally slide open as Sombra hacked it. Moira inhaled, bracing herself. The cold-numb feeling was more intense than ever, and she knew that making a break for it had a high chance of being lethal. Moira stood up as quickly as she could, then vanished into a cloud of purple fog. She reappeared several yards away, running as hard and fast as she could towards Sombra and the door. Her fear was overwhelming, and she felt her bladder chaotically release more of its contents. This feeling of warmth and wetness covered her groin and her upper thighs, while numerous little trails wound down her legs. Drops of pee were flung into the air as she ran. From her other end, her bowels noisily vacated what was left inside of them. This mess was wetter than what filled her pants before, and mushed around inside her panties. Moira could feel all of her opponents hot on her heels as she ran. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sombra raised her SMG and began firing wildly, halting several of their enemies in their tracks. The robot deployed another barrier, however, rendering this approach futile. But, it had bought Moira just as much time as she needed, as she ran by Sombra and into the room. Sombra ran in just after her, using her newly-hacked system access to slam the door behind them. Moira was panting heavily, and Sombra could smell a foul odor about her as the two stood next to each other. She decided to be the bigger woman and not say anything about it, though, “You hurt?” she asked. “Only my pride,” Moira said between her ragged breaths. The two approached a large, supremely advanced terminal. Sombra set about hacking it while Moira observed. After a short moment of silence, the scientist spoke, “Sombra, I must commend you,”. “Thanks, but what for? A lot of things happened today,” “Your assistance tonight has been invaluable. With it, I feel this operation would have been impossible,” this got a slight smirk from Sombra. Moira continued, “On a less professional level, I have to commend you for maintaining control over your bodily functions through the entire conflict. I… did not,”. Sombra wiggled her legs a little bit as the cold wetness around her crotch reminded her that she had actually peed a little bit when Mei threw her little robot at her. But what Moira didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, “You saw my record, it’s not uncommon,” Sombra said, happy to maintain this momentary friendliness. A few seconds later, Sombra had completely hacked open the terminal. She took a step back, and did a theatrical bow as Moira approached the device, and began downloading the various documents and files she needed. While she did this, Sombra took another peek at the map she’d downloaded. Studying it, she saw that there was a way out, though it would be an unorthodox one: the air ducts. ---------------------------- Several minutes later, the two women were climbing through the ventilation shafts. Even though Sombra was in the lead, the unpleasant smell from Moira’s mess still filled the cramped space. The two exited the air duct, and made their way through a door, leading outside the building. They now stood on a balcony that overlooked a precipitous drop into the ocean below. Their ride should appear at any minute. As they looked, they heard a noise, One that made Moira gasp, Sombra looked to its source to see Pharah flying a ways away from the balcony, and a blue missile streaking towards them. Neither of them could react in time as the concussive shell landed between them, slamming Moira against the back wall, and launching Sombra over the edge of the balcony. She screamed as she began to fall, her descent only halted as Moira grabbed hold of her hand. Sombra felt around near her waist, and went wide-eyed as she realized she had used all of her teleporters. Moira had an impressive stature, but she spent most of her time reading or conducting science experiments; she was struggling just to hold Sombra, much less lift her up. Making a terrible mistake, Sombra looked down, and felt her heart drop as she spied the many, spiky rocks jutting out of the water below her. There were no two ways about it, this fall would be fatal. As she stared downwards, wondering which of the spikes would do her in, she noticed a clear stream falling between her legs, and into the ocean. She was peeing. Her pants were more akin to stockings than actual pants, and so most of her urine fell in a stream, instead of down her legs. As Sombra involuntarily swayed and moved her legs, however, they frequently got in the way of that stream, causing numerous, irregular wet splotches up and down her legs. Fighting through her fear, the first thing that came to her mind was to try and stop wetting herself. She brought her legs together, trying to stop the release. All this did was cut off the stream, instead causing the urine to soak into her black and pink leggings, creating large wet stains on her thighs. Looking like she was using all of her strength, Moira began to pull her back up, inch by inch. Suddenly, a rocket crashed into the side of the cliff, not too far from the two. They remembered that Pharah was still there. Seeing the explosion, and feeling several little rocks pelt her body from it, Sombra then crapped her pants, as well. A loud brrrrRRRAAAAAAAPPPpppp sounded from her butt, as semi-solid, mushy mess spilled into her panties. It quickly grew in size, filling the space between her legs. Her panties began to sag a bit, and she could feel some of her mess find its way out of her underwear, and down her left thigh. It felt like she’d stuffed warm mud into her underwear, and she knew her formerly pink panties must look like it, too. The wind began to pick up suddenly, almost unnaturally. The sounds of loud engines became apparent. Sombra thought that there was no way Pharah’s jetpack was that loud. Looking around, she spotted a Talon dropship approaching the balcony. The side door opened, revealing Widowmaker. She wasted no time in lifting up her rifle, and taking aim at Pharah. Seeing their sudden backup arrive, Pharah used her jets for all they were worth, and flew to the safety of the town as Widowmaker fired at her. Sombra had been so preoccupied watching the show, she hadn’t even realized Moira had finally managed to painstakingly pull her back up. She fell forward, landing on top of Moira. Sombra quietly muttered “Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you...”. ---------------------------- The three women stood as the dropship flew them home. There were numerous, comfortable chairs, available, but none of them were willing to sit down, considering they all needed to change. Over at a large communications table, Moira was informing Reaper of the mission’s success. Widowmaker had isolated herself (imagine that) and was simply cleaning her gun. Sombra was leaning against a wall, and her eyes ran over the wet and messy pants of her companions. She didn’t even know what had caused Widow to lose control, but she’d done it just as much as Moira and she, herself had. Sombra was somewhat upset that she had gotten so close to breaking her wet/messy streak, only to lose it at the end, but she supposed there was some comfort in that she wasn’t alone. And there was a little satisfaction in that Moira’s clean streak had rather decisively ended. Once again, though, she kept her mouth shut. The two had established a shaky peace, and she wasn’t about to ruin that. Besides, she figured her time would be better spent cleaning up as much as possible before they returned to their base.
  8. So, just to let everyone know, I'm working on several stories at the moment, all of which I hope to post in the next several days. Naturally, I have the continuation of Journey to Arnwick, and am also writing the next chapter of my Warcraft series. And lastly, I am writing a new Overwatch story. All of which will feature copious amounts of fear and messing accidents.

    I've also been thinking of running a sci-fi themed interactive story, and was wondering what people's opinions about that might be. If I do start that up, I promise I'll update much more frequently than my other stories. Like I said, just wondering if people would be into that at the moment.

    Just thought I'd post a progress update since I've been pretty quiet lately.

    1. blooper

      I personally have not been super enthused with interactive stories as a writing medium, but if it encourages you to update more I won't complain :P

    2. Zabrak

      Do a Star Wars and have Mirialans!

  9. I can't find the thread for the life of me, but I recall a female soldier on 4chan was talking about an instance where the helicopter she was in was taking fire, and a bullet planted itself in the wall, causing her to crap her pants. I think there was also some discussion of how females dealt with the difficulty of using the bathroom while in dangerous areas, because "whipping it out" obviously isn't an option for them, but I only really remembered the helicopter bit. There's also this:
  10. Repconn's art

    Very nice! I second the vote for Moira.
  11. Really nice to see this story continue. Even better to see that announcement.
  12. Omo games are always welcome, and the concepts and art are looking pretty good. I'd certainly like to see this finished.
  13. Journey to Arnwick

    Aaaaaand here it is, finally. Real sorry for how slow I am about this. Like I warned in the last post, this is a long chapter, and a lot of it is exposition with not a huge amount of omo content. If you want to get to the good stuff right away, skip about halfway through. On an entirely unrelated note, I've been considering making an interactive story in a sci-fi setting, and was wondering if anyone would be interested in seeing that. If you are, just leave a comment. As always, feedback is appreciated, and I hope you enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The mother of all headaches rampaged through Alma’s skull. Like a searing hot knife between the folds of her brain. She gritted her teeth and groaned in pain. Like a child waking up before classes, she wished more than anything that she could roll back over and go back to sleep, except… Hazy!! Her eyes opened wide, the assault of morning sunlight turning her headache into a banshee’s scream in her skull. As she sat upright, she felt herself wobble, and almost collapse onto her side. Woozy and migraine-stricken, Alma turned her head, looking for her friend. “Alma!” Came a familiar voice. The relief in Hazel’s voice matched the relief Alma herself felt, knowing her friend was safe. Still not completely awake, she turned towards the source of the voice, and was caught off-guard as Hazel practically tackled her, bringing both of them back down to the ground with a yelp of alarm. Hazel wrapped her arms tightly around her, and she returned the favor. “How’d things go, Hazy?” Alma asked, her voice still weak. “Alma...” Hazel sounded on the brink of tears, “I’m so happy you’re okay,”. Her tone made it sound like she’d never spoken truer words in her life. The two finally ended their embrace, and exchanged joyous smiles, “I’m sure you took good care of me, Hazy,” She placed her hand on Hazel’s head as she said this. Hazel sheepishly looked away, “Well, actually...” “I helped,” Came a girl’s calm, stoic voice. It was not one that Alma was familiar with. Caught completely by surprise, Alma’s head swiveled towards the stranger. She looked with confusion at the short, tired-looking newcomer. “O-oh, right!” Hazel stood and stepped between Alma and the girl, “Alma, this is Eliza. She, uh, helped us,”. “I see,” Alma said, not really understanding, “Well, you have my thanks, Eliza,”. “It’s unnecessary,” Eliza replied, “Not long after I helped you, Hazel here saved me from a wolf demon,”. “A wolf demon?” Alma’s eyes looked Hazel up and down, and she finally noticed the dark patches running down Hazel’s legs, and the bandaging on her arm. “Hazel, are you okay?!” She asked. “I’m fine, I’m fine!” Hazel answered, holding up her hands. “The bite on her hand was bad, but it was the worst the wolf did to us,” Eliza began, “Shortly afterwards, I stunned the wolf and Hazel killed it,”. “You killed it?” The edges of Alma’s mouth curled into a proud smile. “Well, I couldn’t have, if Eliza hadn’t-” “Hazy, I’m so proud of you!” Alma stood up, staggering like she was drunk, then clapped her hand on Hazel’s back. Hazel just blushed and fidgeted a little. Feeling a chill breeze blow between her legs, Alma finally realized she was standing in her underwear. Alma wasn’t half as shy about nudity as Hazel was, but she still preferred to have pants on when she was meeting new people. Seeing Alma’s distressed realization, Hazel quickly stammered out an explanation, “O-oh, er, y-you uuuhhh...” she cleared her throat, nervously, “wet… while you were asleep. I didn’t want to just, eh, leave you like that, so I-I, um...” “Hazy,” Alma interrupted. “Yes?” “Thank you,” Hearing Alma’s appreciation, Hazel breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Alma knew that if she waited for Hazel to finish her explanation, they’d be there all day. And she was grateful; after everything, it would be annoying to wake up to a puddle and a rash. She really was in good hands. “I left your pants out to dry, right over there,” Hazel stumbled over the word “dry”, as if still not daring to believe someone like Alma could piss their pants. Oh how wrong she was. As the mirth of the moment faded away, the reality of their situation dawned on Alma, and she knew that they needed to get going. Ghosts, oranzelgs, and wolf-demons were already hunting them, and Alma didn’t want to know what else the forest had to throw at them. If they didn’t get to safety immediately, their luck was going to run out. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A short while later, Alma had gotten dressed into her usual monster-slaying attire: her wide-brimmed black hat; a cross necklace; her crimson shirt; her tight, black trousers; and her brown boots. Hazel had offered Alma her coat back, but she had refused, and told Hazel she could keep it if she liked. The look on her face was one of childlike wonder when she heard Alma’s offer. As they all labored to gather whatever supplies could be salvaged from the carriage wreck, Alma looked over at Hazel, and she couldn’t suppress a smile as she saw the young merchant wearing the oversized coat. She looked almost like a child who had thrown on her father’s jacket. The once professional and intimidating garment now looked downright, well, cute, on its new owner. Once they’d gathered everything together, Alma looked grimly at the miserably small pile of supplies that sat before them. Hazel struggled to wear an optimistic smile, and Eliza maintained her tired, bored look. Hardly any food or water, only a couple crates of Hazel’s wares, and only one other set of clothes, which had yet to be washed after Hazel pissed in and soiled them. Even now, one glance at the pants Hazel was currently wearing was enough to know she’d had another accident. “You two won’t make it very far,” Eliza said as she observed the pile. “Sure we will! We’ll just have to… eat less than usual, and...” Hazel began, but drifted off as she came to accept their situation. “Eliza’s right,” Alma admitted, crossing her arms over her chest, “We need food and water. If this were any other forest, I could just hunt something for us, but that’s not a very sound strategy here. The rest is more-or-less negligible,” Alma hated that Hazel might be condemned to wearing her wet trousers, but being wet and alive beat being dead any day. “I have food,” Eliza suggested plainly, drawing surprised looks from the other two women. “You do?!” Hazel asked, excitedly. “I live here, of course I have food stashed away,” Alma gave the girl a pleading look, “Eliza, I hate to ask any more of you, but-” “Yes, you can have some,” Eliza answered, before the question could be asked. “I didn’t help you nearly as much as she helped me, so I am in your debt,”. Alma had no idea how exactly Eliza had helped them, but she wasn’t about to question the little witch’s offer. “Thank you, thank you, Eliza!” Hazel excitedly cheered. Alma gave a thankful smile. Almost imperceptibly, Eliza seemed to smile, just a bit. She reached down, and picked up some of their supplies while Alma and Hazel carried the rest, “Come on, my home is this way,” she said, as she wandered into the woods. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eliza’s “house” was as pathetic as it was impressive. Near as Alma could tell, it was built with a wooden frame, then had hardened mud or clay for walls. The whole structure was somewhat circular, the shape bearing similarities to a giant onion. A wooden door was the only indication of what constituted the “front” of the house. Eliza had even managed to create small windows here and there. The trees surrounding it had long strings running between them, almost every inch of which were covered in strange trinkets and charms. While most of them were unique, Alma noted a startlingly large number of what appeared to be dreamcatchers dangling from the wires. As the wind blew, the various objects clinked together like hundreds of windchimes. Wordlessly, Eliza opened the door of the house, and gestured for them to come inside, “Don’t touch anything,” was her only stipulation. Basic wooden furniture adorned the inside, along with more of the strange charms, and, fittingly for a witch, nothing short of a few hundred vials, jars, and flasks filled with various things. As Alma and Hazel stood and took in the witch’s house, they were caught off-guard when Eliza emerged from another room and lobbed a pair of green pants and panties at Hazel, who only barely caught them in time. “Feel free to throw those on,” Eliza said, eyeing the urine stains between Hazel’s legs. “Right, er, thanks Eliza!” Hazel stammered out, blushing hotly as her wet pants were mentioned. Alma couldn’t help but find it somewhat cute. Not that she was in any position to think as much, considering she’d crapped her pants when she fought the oranzelg. And according to Hazel, she’d even pissed on herself while she was passed out. Recalling that fact, Alma glanced down at her own pants, and was grateful they were black- there were no residual stains visible on them. She suppressed a chuckle as she mused on the reason she suspected hunters wore all black. It was a lesson newer hunters tended to pick up on pretty fast. It took her apprentice a few runs into the forests before he fully understood. She winced as she recalled Donny. She’d been negligent, and he’d gotten hurt because of it. His injury put a fairly decisive end to his career as a hunter. He lived, at least; that was more than could be said for most people who drop their guard in the forest. “So where are you two headed?” Eliza asked. Alma was brought back to reality with a quick “What?”. “Where are the two of you going? I need to know how much food you’ll need,” Eliza stared blankly at her. “Oh, sorry. We’re going to Arnwick,” Alma answered, Hazel gave an accompanying nod as she finished putting on the clothes Eliza had given her. Alma hadn’t even noticed her friend had been changing. Eliza’s eyes opened only slightly more than usual, but still the widest Alma had seen them go, “Arnwick?”. “Our home was starting to wither, so we thought we’d head to Arnwick,” said Hazel. Eliza fixed Hazel with an analytical stare, then quickly turned her head towards Alma, “If it were just you, or you and another hunter, I wouldn’t question it,” She again turned to look at Hazel, “but since you’re bringing her, I can only assume you don’t know about Arnwick,”. Alma Hazel exchanged worried glances, then both looked back to the little witch for an explanation. “You don’t, huh?” She gave a quick sigh, “Some sort of powerful monster appeared in Arnwick a couple weeks ago. It did something to the people, made them go crazy. Now the place is a breeding ground for monsters,”. “Arnwick is...” Alma began, trying to think what the monster could be. Nothing she knew of behaved like this. A moment of silence lingered between them, until Hazel broke it, “T-then… all of this...” her voice was shaky, Alma looked up to see horror written across her face, “Was for nothing!?”. “Hazy...” Alma walked to her friend, and put a hand on her shoulder, but retracted it when Hazel whipped around to face her, “Alma...” tears were welling in the merchant’s eyes, “I sold everything for this!” the tears began to flow down her cheeks, “I-I lost everything with the carriage!” She brought her hands over her face as she was wracked with sobs, “Oh, God, what am I gonna do...”. Alma gave her a comforting hug, “What are we going to do, you mean. You’re not alone, Hazy,”. Hazel calmed down a little, but she still needed a moment. As Alma was comforting her, Eliza coughed lightly, then spoke, “There is always the option of killing the monster,”. “Kill it?!” Alma retorted, “A whole town couldn’t kill it, why would we stand a chance?” “Because you’ve got a witch,” There was no doubt- Eliza smiled slightly as she said that. “Y-you mean...” Hazel looked up at their new friend, still teary-eyed. “If the two of you are up for the challenge, I’ll gladly help you kill the monster,” “But why?” “Because sooner or later, the monsters are going to figure how to get by my charms, and then I won’t last an hour against them. If we kill the big one now, then I won’t have to leave my home,” With one last sniffle, Hazel finished her moment of grief, and took a step back from Alma, “And you think we can do it?”. Eliza gave a simple shrug, “Probably. I have enough materials in here to kill everything in the forest. I just need to brew the right concoction, then throw it at the monster,”. Alma knew it couldn’t be that simple. She knew it wouldn’t be that simple, and she was pretty sure Hazel and Eliza knew it, too. Still, though, Eliza was undoubtedly a talented alchemist. If any of them could pull of some miracle that would save them, it would be her. Hazel seemed to be thinking the same thing, as newfound hope shone brightly in her eyes. “Alright, Eliza,” Alma held her hand out to the witch, “Welcome to the team,”. Awkwardly, Eliza begrudgingly shook her hand, clearly not accustomed to the gesture. “Gather our things; we have a town to save,”. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s funny, how easily the excitement of a moment can ruined simply because you need to relieve yourself. Sadly, this was the situation Alma now found herself in. She could feel a weight resting in her abdomen, and it would have to be dealt with, or else it would wind up resting in the seat of her pants. Ordinarily, she would have no qualms about taking a quick break and paying a visit to the nearest bush, but things were different now. Time was of the essence, for one thing; but much more urgent was the abundance of monsters. She’d be vulnerable if she stopped to empty herself. Of course, if a monster attacked them, she had a feeling she’d wind up in need of new underwear anyway. Alma didn’t often get the crap literally scared out of her- not like Hazel or Donny- but more than once she’d been attacked while she needed to go, and ended the fight with wet streaks down her legs, or a mess on her rear end. She recalled how, a few years ago, she’d been on a hunt with Donny, and had forgotten to relieve herself beforehand. Much like her current situation, she found herself bursting. As she excused herself, a bear, rabid and crazed, charged at her. As she fought it, she had no attention left to give to her bowels and bladder, and unconsciously filled and drenched her pants. Donny teased her about it, so she later placed the body of a monster they slew inside his tent, causing him to fall backwards and soil his trousers when he opened it. This memory is not helping to take my mind off of this, She thought, almost sternly, to herself. She decided to busy her mind by simply studying her surroundings. The forest around them had abandoned all pretense of being a regular forest. Jagged, twisted branches sprouted from black trees, their leaves a muted and dull green. Gray clouds loomed overhead, letting in just enough light to cast creeping shadows and turn the unsettling forestry into nightmares. She turned and looked at her traveling companions. Eliza, as expected, looked straight ahead, with a facial expression that would make one think she had no interest in what she was doing. Hazel quietly and nervously looked around, keeping an eye out for monsters. The poor thing had been surprised too much on this trip. Alma noticed with some pity that the two of them were both beginning to sweat, and Hazel was breathing harder than normal. Neither of them were used to lugging around so much stuff, and the exertion was getting to them. Alma smirked, for she had barely even noticed the extra baggage. An angry gurgle from her abdomen informed her that her efforts to distract herself from her needs were doomed to failure. “What’s that?” Hazel asked, her excitement slightly masked by her exhaustion. Looking where Hazel pointed, Alma and Eliza beheld a large inn nestled between the trees. They exchanged confused looks, but hurried towards it. Hazel and Eliza needed a place to rest, and Alma rather desperately needed an outhouse. The outside of the building was fairly well-maintained, with only slight signs of wear. From inside, the clatter of dishes and utensils was audible, even among the much more audible sounds of merriment and festivity. Warm, orange light streamed from the windows. The place could hardly have looked more inviting. And that worried Alma. The party arrived at the threshold of the door. Hazel’s mouth was practically watering at the prospect of entering. Eliza’s face had shifted to one of uncharacteristic confusion. Honestly, more akin to downright befuddlement. “When did… How...” Eliza struggled to even formulate her questions. “Eliza,” Alma asked in a serious tone, “Is this structure strange to you? Should it not be here?” “I...” She paused, and looked over the exterior of the strange building, “am uncertain,” “Then perhaps we should-” The door of the inn swung inwards, revealing a stocky woman in a barmaid’s outfit. She had fiery red hair that curled around her head. She had a friendly face, and wore a smile just as warm as the inside of the tavern. “I thought I heard someone outside the door!” the barmaid’s voice was loud and friendly. Seeing the surprise written on all three of their faces, the barmaid chuckled, “Been a long trip, huh? This place is paradise to anyone who’s been traveling to Arnwick,” She turned to the crowd of people inside, and shouted “Ain’t that right, boys?!”. In a thunderous chorus, the large crowd of atleast thirty people cheered their agreements. Exchanging looks of disbelief with Hazel, Alma finally spoke, “Sorry, we just… Weren’t expecting to find someplace like this out here,”. “Neither were they!” the barmaid replied, stabbing her thumb towards the crowd, “That’s what makes this place so wonderful!”. “It… does look pretty nice in there...” Hazel quietly said, giving Alma a hopeful look. Alma leaned in to whisper in Eliza’s ear, “Tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary,”. The witch nodded in reply. The group entered the building, Hazel much more happily than the others. They were greeting enthusiastically by dozens of people- men and women, most of them looking as though they had as rough a time getting here as they, themselves had. With a curt smile and quick wave, Alma’s greeting was done. Hazel simply blushed and averted her eyes. Eliza, however, looked as though she had just beheld the most horrifying monster imaginable: a crowd of people, all looking at you. Eliza was frozen, stiff as a board. Picking up on her distress, Alma grabbed Eliza’s wrist, and made her wave at everyone. It seemed to be enough for the crowd, who laughed it off, then resumed their festivities. Everyone’s eyes off of her, Eliza released the breath she’d been holding. The bags under her eyes had more than doubled. “You okay?” Alma asked, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Slowly, Eliza’s eyes focused on Alma, and she gave a quick nod as her answer. “If you say so,” Alma didn’t want to press the situation any further. After a minute of searching, the party found an open table, and settled in. Hazel sat herself right next to Alma, while Eliza sat across from them. They were fortunate to have found a table near a wall, away from the bulk of the celebrants. Eliza was very careful to sit facing away from the crowd. Alma could see that the poor girl had gone pale, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. “Not a fan of parties, I take it?” Alma asked, trying to ease the tension. “N-not-” Eliza’s voice was squeaky and very weak, and she cleared her throat, “Not as such, no,”. Before the conversation could proceed any further, the barmaid approached their table, and placed three mugs of cold ale in front of them. “On the house!” She said with cheer. “Oh, thank-” Hazel stammered out a reply, but was interrupted when some in the tavern began to shout. “Oi, Isabel! Need more drinks over here!” “You got it!” The barmaid, apparently named Isabel shouted back. She walked away without a second’s hesitation. Hazel reached for her drink, but Alma swiftly slapped her hand away. When Hazel looked at her in confusion, Alma simply shook her head. “They could have put anything in there,” Eliza answered. “Don’t you two think you’re being a little paranoid?” Hazel asked with a skeptical look. “Absolutely,” Alma’s voice was dead serious, and she affixed Hazel with an unblinking glare, “It’s how you stay alive, Hazel,”. “Here,” Eliza retrieved a thin, straight object from her coat pocket. Dipping it into Hazel’s drink, she pulled it out, and turned it over, scouting for irregularities. “The drink is safe,” she finally said. “See?” Hazel lifted the cup, and took a quick gulp. She shuddered as the taste of alcohol fully registered. Hesitantly, Alma listed the cup to her lips, and took a small drink. Both of them looked expectantly at Alma, but she just pushed the cup away. A loud crash caught the party’s attention, and they looked to a nearby table to see that a young woman had passed out. “I think this one’s had a bit too much!” one her friends yelled as he laughed, clearly having had a bit too much, himself. The woman was lying flat on her back with a blissful expression on her face. Alma had a clear view as her groin was quickly saturated in urine. The wet patch grew along with a puddle underneath her. Seeing someone ruin their pants reminded Alma of how close she was to doing the same. Moreover, seeing someone piss themselves made her realize her bladder was now full, as well. She crossed her legs in order to hold it. She was honestly more worried using the bathroom here than she would have been in a bush in the forest. The sound of an empty mug hitting the table drew Alma’s interest. Hazel had already downed her entire drink. She was now eyeing Alma’s untouched beverage. Hazel wasn’t the drunken-partygoer type, and the look in her eyes wasn’t so much lust for the drink, but closer to desperation. Alma understood suddenly: Hazel had just seen her life’s work go up in flames shortly before seeing her friend get mauled by a giant monster. It was understandable that she’d want something to help her forget. With a sigh, Alma slid her mug over to her friend, who greedily scooped it up and started drinking. Just seeing Hazel gulp down the ale made Alma’s bladder ache. She motioned for Eliza to lean forward, then spoke in a hushed voice “I’m going to go look around this place,” Careful not to draw attention to the act, she slid one of her silver daggers across the table to the witch, “If anything happens, you scream for me, and I’ll be here,”. “Understood,” Was all Eliza had to say. Alma stood, and navigated her way through the jubilant crowd. Eventually, she happened upon a hallway that seemed to be empty. There were only a few doors, and most of them contained nothing of interest. At the end of the hallway, however, was a door to the basement. If there was a place to keep a dark and disturbing secret, it would be the basement. Ensuring that no one was watching her, she stealthily slipped in. The basement was dark, and the air was stale. Keeping one hand on her dagger, Alma began looking around. Something felt off, though. She had a peculiar feeling, one that made her hairs stand on end. As her paranoia intensified, Alma realized what the feeling was: she was being watched. She was certain of it. Her head whipped around, looking for any sign of another person, but she was well and truly alone in the room. She knew this place felt off. More than likely, whatever watched her was demonic in nature, and she had no earthly idea what it could be. An icy coldness filled her chest, slowly spilling out to the rest of her body. It was an emotion she was well-acquainted with, but so rarely felt so strongly: fear. “Got tired of the party?” The voice nearly made Alma jump out of her own skin. She whirled around to see Isabel, who was still giving a friendly smile. Alma felt a heat welling up around her womanhood, and clenched herself as hard as she could when she realized she’d just pissed in her panties. She didn’t think any of it leaked through to her pants, but at least several inches of her underwear were now wet with urine. On the bright side, her near loss of control gave her an idea for an excuse, “Sorry, I was looking for the restroom,”. “Heh heh, You’d better hope I don’t catch you making a puddle in my basement,” Isabel laughed. She was smiling. She was laughing and joking. So why did she seem so sinister? “Well, I should really return to my friends...” Alma walked past the barmaid, until Isabel grabbed hold of her wrist. As soon as she did so, the door to the basement swung shut, blocking off her only avenue of escape. Alma was right: this place was demonic. Wasting no time at all, Alma drew her silver knife, and lashed out at Isabel, aiming for her throat. A look of surprise was plain on her face as she lifted her thick arm to block it. The knife’s blade bit into Isabel’s arm. As Alma expected, a sizzling sound like burning meat filled the air as the silver parted her flesh. Isabel was possessed. “AAAAAHHHHH!!” She howled, grabbing at her wound. She looked up at Alma with hate-filled eyes. She would find no mercy in the monster hunter, who struck out once more. The barmaid’s eyes widened as the dagger flew towards her face. She tried to pull back, but was too slow, and the knife left a two-inch long gash on her cheek. It, too, sizzled and crackled with holy scorn. In a flurry of rage, Isabel began swinging her powerful arms, trying her damnedest to land a punch on Alma. She swung the knife once again, but this time, Isabel had learned her lesson. She jumped back, giving Alma to opening she needed. Drawing her crossbow, she aimed for Isabel’s chest, and fired. The woman’s eyes lit up with fear, and she covered her chest with her arms, allowing the bolt to sink in to her right forearm. She fell to her knees in agony, suppressing screams. Alma ran forwards to deal the final blow. As she drew near, Isabel launched herself at the monster hunter with inhuman speed and strength, slamming her mighty shoulder into Alma’s chest. She stumbled backwards, her chest aching, until she fell backwards. “The darkness is my domain, hunter,” Isabel said, her voice augmented by demonic powers, “Allow me to welcome you to it,”. She grabbed hold of the room’s only lantern, and, with a quick breath, extinguished its flame. Alma’s eyes widened as the room, and her opponent, were bathed in impenetrable darkness. Pulling herself to her feet, she clutched her dagger tightly, and prepared for the demon’s assault. She felt unsteady, and she noticed that her legs were shaking. Fear. Her heart was beating so fast, she could hardly hear anything. Something toppled over to her right, and she turned in the direction of the noise, but then something was smashed to her left, drawing her attention. She pivoted back and forth, trying so hard to make out any shapes in the darkness. Her effort was for naught, though, as she felt something of titanic strength grab hold of her right arm. She could not see what manner of demon she faced, but it was a very strong one. As she struggled to pull her arm free, a loud CRACK sounded in the dark room. A second later, the sound of her dagger clattering to the floor was audible. And another second later, the pain of a broken arm was apparent. Alma made a choking gasp as pain seized her. With hardly a flick of its wrist, the demon threw Alma against the wall, and she slid down, until she sat on her rear, her back leaning against it. She looked up, into the endless abyss around her, and she felt numb with terror. She could hear running water, and she knew instantly that her bladder had just failed her. The hot liquid soaked her crotch, and she felt it wetting the fabric of her pants under her ass, as well. Her left hand, which she still had feeling in, rested on the ground near her, and she could feel the warm urine spread to her fingertips as the puddle expanded in all direction underneath her. “I did say you’d better hope I don’t catch you making a puddle down here...” The demon mocked her. An unfortunately familiar hand gripped Alma by the throat, and effortlessly lifted her into the air. It began crushing her throat. Alma felt tears flowing down her cheeks. Her mind raced like never before. Everything seemed to move so slowly as she struggled to think of something, anything that could save her. More and more of her body was failing her as her damage grew more severe. Some unladylike noises filled the room, and were followed by a very loud squelching sound as she emptied her bowels into her pants and panties. All of what she’d been holding in spilled into her clothes. It was only semi-solid, and a very large bulge formed on her ass. Her panties reached their limit, and much of the mess escaped them, and the lumpy bulge now ran halfway down her thighs, too. She could feel liquid waste running down the back of her legs, as well as whatever urine was still left in her body rewarming her groin. Failing to think of anything that could save her, Alma resorted to simple struggling. She punched and kicked at the powerful arm that held her. She did her best to ignore the squishing of her mess as her legs thrashed about. Suddenly, an idea struck her. With her good arm, she reached behind her, and drew one of her silver crossbow bolts. Using it like a dagger, she began rapidly stabbing the arm that held her, until the pain overwhelmed the demon, and it released her as it howled in pain. Alma landed in the puddle of her own urine. Moreover, she landed on her rear, flattening the bulge in her pants. As this point, there was hardly an inch of her backside that wasn’t soiled. But the state of her pants was far from the most pressing issue right now. She was outmatched as long as she was in here. If she could see, then she stood a chance, but as things were, Alma was little more than demon food. She had to get out of this room, back into the light. If Eliza and Hazel were there, she knew the three of them could defeat this demon. As she fumbled around for the stairs, she felt some shame that she was running back to her much younger, much weaker friends for help. She was especially unhappy about the fact that, upon her return, her loss of control would be seen not just by her friends, but by the thirty-something people in the tavern. Swallowing her pride, she finally located the stairs. Behind her, the demon stirred, no doubt preparing to attack her once more. She ran up the stairs, as fast as her legs would carry her. Swinging the door open, she emerged into the light. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <Several Minutes Ago...> Eliza watched as Alma pushed through the crowd of people. It was good that Alma had not asked her to do it, as Eliza would sooner die than interact with so many people. She turned the dagger over in her hand, wondering if she might need to use it, tonight. Her interactions with other humans were so rare, she had never really been able to acquire silver equipment. She lamented at how much easier her life would have been if she’d had this little knife a few years ago. So many monster encounters would have been easier. So many pairs of pants could have gone un-soiled. Eliza looked over at Hazel, who had now gulped down every drink on the table. Her face was flush, and she had the carefree expression Eliza knew to associate with inebriation. She was somewhat surprised. Sure, Hazel had drunk quite a bit, but for it to hit so hard, so fast was unusual. She must be a lightweight, thought Eliza. Realizing Hazel’s state made her suddenly conscious of her own. She found herself wobbling about, even though she was sitting, and had only had a small drink from her cup. She was certain this was abnormal. For just a moment, her vision blurred as she teetered, and a thought struck her. Trying to keep from looking too panicked, Eliza turned around, and looked to the various tables around them. No, no, no, no, no, She was thinking, methodically surveying every table. After she had seen all that weren’t obscured by the crowd, she concluded: there was no salt, nor any silver cutlery. Either object would have kept monsters at bay, even killed some of the lesser ones if they touched it, and yet this establishment had none. In the middle of a monster-infested forest. She slowly turned back to look at Hazel, who was slumped over onto the table, unmoving. The cacophony of sound around her seemed to go out completely. A pit formed in her stomach as fear and anxiety took root. This is the house of a demon, She concluded. She hoped very dearly that the beast was not aware that she had seen through its trick. “Hazel?” She asked, slowly, and with rising worry. But the girl did not move. Eliza took a deep breath to quell the near-hysteria inside herself. She took Hazel’s hand in her own, and felt for a pulse. She was relieved when she felt it. Hazel was not dead- not yet. Perhaps the demon thought to put all of them to sleep, then claim their souls as they were passed out. Greater demons were known for their trickery. She clutched the silver knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Alma couldn’t return soon enough. If, indeed, she would return at all. The thought caused her breathing to quicken. Both she and Hazel were nearly killed by a lesser wolf demon, but a cunning greater demon would make a mockery out of both of them. Eliza’s shoulders slumped, and she felt fatigue tug at her. Whatever was in her drink was taking its toll. She had to think, and fast. An idea came to her, and without hesitation, she stabbed the silver blade into the table, and began carving. Making twists and turns, the etching was finally completed, and a holy symbol now rested upon the table. Such markings carry the power of the heavens, and deter weaker monsters. She would need more. Making another cut, she created a second symbol. Then a third. Then a fourth. The minutes blurred together as she converted their table into a sanctuary. Now came the last, and most miserable step. She looked at the palm of her left hand, and raised the knife. This was a trick she’d only theorized would work, and she’d hoped never to have to repeat it. She took a deep breath and held it, then stabbed the tip of the knife into her hand, making the same twists and turns. The pain was searing, and she felt tears welling in her eyes, but after a moment, it was done. A holy symbol- carved by silver, no less- was now part of her body. She sobbed lightly a couple of times, trying to ignore the pain. Eliza’s preparations were interrupted by a loud thud from the basement. She was surprised she could hear it through the festivities. Until she realized that the room had gone completely silent, and perhaps had been for a few minutes, now. Her heart beat so loudly she wondered if everyone around her could hear it. As she turned to look at the crowd, the first thing to enter her vision was a greenish-blue light. She turned further to confirm her suspicions. The crowd had shorn their disguises, and revealed their ghostly forms. She stood from her seat in alarm. An entire horde of spectres was slowly surrounding Eliza and Hazel. Each and every one of them stared right into her soul with murderous intent. Eliza felt numb, and looked down when she heard the splashing of water. She had urinated a little- enough to create a short stream from under her skirt. The liquid’s impact with the floor caused a splash, and some of the piss droplets landed on her legs. After realizing her loss of control, she also noted the presence of a few drops of her urine slowly sliding down her thighs. They wanted to kill her. They wanted so desperately to kill both Eliza and Hazel, and yet none of the approached her. Eliza wasn’t particularly religious, but even she thanked God that her plan with the symbols worked. She had bought them time. Quite a bit of it. Eliza pulled out every last bottle, conister, satchel, and stray ingredient she had on herself, desperately searching for ideas about what to do. She could most certainly make a firebomb, but she couldn’t be certain they’d be able to escape. Not to mention that the fires could trap Alma inside. Hazel shuffled slightly in her sleep, and gave Eliza an idea. Grabbing everything she’d need, Eliza swiftly began concocting a potion of awakening. One of the spirits gave off a ghostly screech as it hurled itself towards the pair. Eliza whipped around in sudden fright, her tired face pale and eyes wide. The spirit dissolved in mid-air just before it reached them. Eliza let go of the breath she was holding- the holy symbols worked. As long as the greater demon didn’t attack them, they were fine. Her relief was short-lived, though, when she detected her body had attempted a different kind of relief. More warm streams slowly wound down her slender legs. She had only released a little bit of urine, and she could feel there was much more just waiting to escape. After a moment, the potion was done. She pulled Hazel onto the table, opened her mouth, and poured the mixture in. Unlike the one she made for Alma, this potion wouldn’t have to battle with oranzelg venom, and should wake up the woman in only a moment. She also took a small drink from the mixture, herself. Almost immediately, she felt the life return to her, and the drowsiness wear off. With Hazel’s treatment completed, Eliza was wracking her brain trying to think of what to do next. She found most of her thoughts kept returning to almost praying that Alma would return soon. What am I doing?! She thought, ashamed of herself, I am a witch! I will find a way out of this. She perused her ingredients once more, going through a mental checklist of possible concoctions. Hazel shuddered suddenly, as the awakening potion spurred her to life. Looking at Hazel, Eliza suddenly knew what to do. With renewed vigor, she gathered ingredient after ingredient, and began mixing. Minutes later, she heard the sound of a door slamming against a wall. Looking toward its source, Eliza saw Alma emerge from the back hallway. A large wet stain covered the front of the monster hunter’s pants. Eliza saw the hunter’s right arm dangling limply, and she felt she knew what prompted her accident. Of greater import, however, was the fact that all the ghosts now gazed at the unprotected and injured Alma. The hunter was already breathing heavily, already exhausted, and she seemed to be low on hope. Seeing the blue-green tide of malevolent spirits appeared to suck the little drive she had left right out of her. She fell to her knees, and the spirits started to close in. Swearing silently, Eliza looked to the mark on her hand, and prayed she was right about its effectiveness. Clutching the dagger tightly, she stood on shaky legs, and walked out of the safety of her impromptu sanctuary. A few spirits immediately charged towards her, sending a chill down her spine. As they drew near, she held her palm out to them, and they screeched as the holy symbol prevented their approach. Of course my plan worked, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the new droplets of piss falling between her legs. Walking as fast as her frayed nerves would allow, she waded into the sea of ghosts. They all screamed and wailed as they parted to let her through. Funny thing is, Eliza found this preferable to walking through a crowd of living people. After what seemed like hours of walking, she finally reached Alma, who was nearly in the fetal position. As the witch drew nearer, she smelled a horrible odor about the woman, and realized she’d done quite a bit more than simply wet herself. She couldn’t help but notice that rather enormous bulge in the back of her trousers. Eliza shuddered. She didn’t know much about Alma’s constitution, but surely anything that could reduce her to this must be a force to be reckoned with. Extending her marked hand, she grabbed the hunter by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. Alma looked up at her in complete disbelief. She couldn’t believe that she was being rescued. She had already accepted that she was going to die. Ghosts had a way of doing that. Of draining your hope and courage. “Alma!” Eliza shouted, in her usual monotone, “Snap out of it! We need you!”. Alma simply stared, not comprehending. So Eliza delivered a mighty slap to Alma’s face. She blinked rapidly, then she looked around, taking in the situation. “Hazel!!” She yelled as she spotted her friend. She started to run towards her, but Eliza grabbed her arm to slow her down. Using the mark on her hand, she once again cut through the swarm of spirits, until they arrived at the marked table. Alma looked in confusion at the strange mixture Eliza was making. Eliza then held out her hand, simply saying “Bolt,”. “What?” “Bolt. Crossbow bolt. They’re silver, right?” Eliza didn’t even take her eyes off of her work. Alma foraged in her pack for a second before finding some of her spare bolts. Fortunately, they hadn’t been lost in the fight, “Yes, it’s silver,” she said as she handed one to the witch. Using the silver bolt, she stirred the mixture, then just dropped the bolt right into it. After a few seconds, it transitioned from a deep blue to a milky white. With no hesitation, Eliza lifted the concoction up, and poured it into Hazel’s mouth, making sure to keep the bolt from falling in, as well. “What is that, what are you giving her?” “It’s-” Eliza began, but stopped when the room seemed to grow extremely cold. The greater demon was here. She leaned in to Alma’s ear, and quietly whispered what she had done to her. “Are… Are you sure-” Doubt was written plainly across Alma’s face. “Of course I’m sure,” She hastily threw her belongings back into her satchel, “Now come on, we have to-” She stopped talking as she looked over and saw the greater demon approaching. It was a terrifying creature. Pale, purple skin was stretched over an emaciated, elongated humanoid body. All along its unholy skin, faces sat, their features writhing endlessly. What she could only assume to be the primary face out of the many on its head affixed a cruel sadistic glare on them. Eliza swore her heart stopped beating as it walked towards them. She stumbled backwards, bumping into Alma, who caught her before she could fall. In its state of terrified confusion, her body’s first act was to spray urine down her legs. Her cold and damp panties turned hot once more, and a thick stream fell between her legs, splattering onto the wood floor. She could feel sheaths of warm liquid sliding down her thighs, as well. “Alma,” Eliza said, her voice quiet, “Now.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hazel opened her eyes, and nothing but blurry smudges and a headache greeted her. That and… a strange, inexplicable feeling that she could not describe. Sitting up, she found that she was lying on a table. Next, she realized that she was alone. Shaking her head a little, Hazel looked around, and finally saw the army of ghosts and the twisted greater demon approaching her. She shot up to her feet, and tried to run, but stumbled and had to brace herself against a wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eliza and Alma. Leaving the building. She was confused at first, then heartbroken as she realized they had abandoned her. Tears began to flow down her face. The whispers of the ghosts grew closer and closer as she flattened herself against the wall. With no resistance, her bladder emptied itself into her green trousers. The fabric around her womanhood swiftly darkened, and twin stains grew and grew, the urine surging downwards. The wetness reached her ankles, and there some flowed into her shoes, filling them up; some flowed over the side, puddling on the floor below her. Similarly with no resistance, she voided her bowels- as easily as if she were using the restroom. With a light crackle, her pants and panties tented out. Her mess collapsed on itself, making way for even more. After a short moment, she could feel her warm and sticky waste pressing up against her bottom, the hug of her panties completely replaced by her fear-driven release. “Looks like your friends decided they were better off without you,” The greater demon spoke, its voice echoing, “Don’t worry, they won’t make it much farther,”. The monster reached out its hand towards her face, “And you’ll always have a place in my little family,”. Still weeping, Hazel shut her eyes against the horror that stood before her. The hand reached her forehead, and she felt this horrible draining feeling, almost as if she was being pulled away, yet not moving. And then, there was screaming, but it was not her’s. A horrible eldritch howl filled the building, nearly rupturing her ears. She opened her eyes, and saw the greater demon’s hand melting away where it had touched her. Little cracks and fissures appeared all over its body, before they evolved into horrifically deep lacerations. After several gut wrenching moments, the beast finally perished, and all of its physical form simply boiled away. Following after their former master, all the trapped spirits lingered for only a moment before passing on. Hazel had no idea what to think. She glanced down at her hands, wondering if she had somehow just caused that to happen. Taking a worried step forward, Hazel swiveled her head around to make sure there were no more surprises, but the whole building was empty, now. Taking a few more steps, she scrunched her face as she felt her wet and full panties cling to her. Then the door flew open, and Alma charged inside. She gave Hazel a very quick one-armed hug, then immediately began checking her for injuries. “W-what just...” “It was Eliza’s plan,” Alma answered. “I made you drink a mixture. Normally those ingredients are used to consecrate things against the unholy, so I made you imbibe it. When it tried to pull your soul out, it learned that I, more-or-less, consecrated you,”. “Y-you could have told me!” Hazel shouted, looking at the both of them. “Hazy, please, there was no time, we had to run, and-” “It had to look genuine” Eliza finished. “It was genuine.” Hazel said firmly, “I… I thought you two had actually...” “Hazy, we would never do something like that,” Alma assured her, looking into her eyes. “Let’s… let’s just go...” Hazel said after a pause. A lot had happened, today, and there were a lot of fingers to point. She wanted to change her pants before they got to any of it. Silently, the group retrieved all of their belonging, and exited the cursed tavern.