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NothingLeft

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About NothingLeft

  • Rank
    Fidgeting
  • Birthday November 11

Personal Information

  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Bathroom Control
    Bedwetting
    Biting
    Cuddling
    Exhibitionism
    Master / Pet

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  1. Thank you. Like i attempted to iterate in the chapter, the prompt demanded I have Natasha choose to wet herself, so the next Natasha piece- whenever that comes- will... Well, the element of choice will not be hers. Thank you regardless.
  2. Natasha Romanoff Before this begins, I want to preface one thing. People can ship who they want with who they want, I don't care. I don'y care if you ship Romanogers, or WinterWidow or if the Avengers are all one big poly group, or anything else. I respect people putting fictional characters with other fictional characters and having them bang. I just hope that courtesy can be extended, because the ship within this piece, as well as every future 'Black Widow' piece is... Lamented, I suppose. Again, ship who you wish with anyone, just please respect my ship. Sorry for the introduction like this, on with the piece. Privatized Stark Pool, July 2024 Natasha sighed as the warm sun hit her exposed skin. It had been over eight months since- not to brag- she had dealt the final blow to the massive underground crime ring’s leader, Wilson “Kingpin”Fisk. It had been a harder fight than she had expected- he was massive, and most of his mass was muscle despite his rotund appearance. He had, earlier in the lifespan of the crime organization- the Avengers had been fighting this crime ring for almost two months before Natasha ended it- caught Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf himself, in a hand-to-hand fistfight, and Fisk had held his own until Captain America joined in. And even then the mob boss had still been doing remarkably well. Despite all that, the man wasn’t bulletproof. Natasha had made quite sure of that, especially after one of his henchmen had shot her in the leg, leading to… Well, to a dangerously fatal Hulk-Out that had caused quite “the PR disaster”, as Tony kept putting it. Regardless, Natasha warmed herself in the sun and smiled, her amber sunglasses shielding her closed eyes. Any sound around her was muted by operatic orchestral music- her lover had recommended it, and she had to admit it was indeed calming and relieved her stress quite well- coming through white earbuds wired to her phone beside her. Beneath her was a crimson towel and nearby beside her was her third bottle of water, near-empty due to the sun’s heat. The only thing her somewhat pale body was censored by was a deep, rich red two-piece swimsuit. It was relatively conservative for a swimsuit; the cups wrapped around her full, clear-fleshed C-cup breasts comprehensively, leaving only slight swells above the line of the padding. The bottom piece was also quite hiding as it had a removable swimskirt attached, though it was only draped over her left leg. The skirt dropped down to the apex of her calf, leaving the rest of her silky, pale leg- as well as her entire right leg- nude to the eye. Natasha resettled her body, smiling genuinely as the sun kept her flesh warm. The skirt on her bikini was, similarly to her towel, underneath her to ensure as cohesive a tan as possible- though, if it had been just her and her lover, she would have gone for a complete tan. However, there were others around, leaving Natasha to have to deal with much despised tan lines. Nevertheless, as the Black Widow breathed a deep, contented sigh, she received a sudden and cold awakening when water splashed onto her thigh. She removed her earbuds and sat up, joyous sounds now reaching her ears. Sam Wilson, the Falcon, and Peggy Carter, Agent Genesis, were wrestling in the water quite nearby her- no doubt the cause of the splash of Natasha’s leg- Peggy giggling and squealing when Sam grabbed her foot from underwater. James Rhodes, the War Machine and Hela were under the shade of an old oak tree, Hela also under a dark towel. Happy Hogan, the Bodyguard, and May Parker alongside Thor, Loki, Valkyrie and Sif were in a nearby hot tub, and Morgan Stark was in the shallowest part of the pool with her parents, learning how to swim. Clint and Laura Barton- Hawkeye and Mockingbird- were lounging on the edge of the large pool, their three children- Lila, Cooper and Nathan, alongside Cassie Lang, Scott Lang, or Ant-Man’s teenage daughter- hitting around an inflatable ball. Wanda Maximoff was on the edge of the pool, whispering with a smile to her synthetic boyfriend Vision, who was on the rim of the water. Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne, or the Wasp- the couple had been married just over a month now- were napping in a cuddle against a wall of a building nearby, wrapped in a towel similarly to Hela. Mary Jane Watson and Peter Parker, or Spider-Man were in a corner of the pool occasionally stealing kisses from each other, and Christina ‘Angel Dust’ Catastrophie and Piotr ‘Colossus’ Rasputin were both on land, sharing a book. Piotr was leaned back while Christina read over his shoulder, holding an oddly feminine stance- at least for the six-foot mountain of a woman that could punch through sheer rock. However, as Natasha scanned her surroundings, there was one very important person she couldn’t pick out. Among all her other comrades, there was one very important man she couldn’t find. But, when she rose in concern, a shadow underneath the water moved around Sam and Peggy’s wrestling bodies. The shadow became more defined and more lean as the person beneath the surface came closer until a head of dark brown hair, slightly greying around the roots, pierced the water. A tanned, wise face followed, the man’s eyes were a mysterious and deep dark brown in colour. Natasha smiled as the man, only his head emerging from the slightly turbulent surface of the sparkly, clear water. Natasha turned herself around on her towel to lay on her tummy, putting her chin on her wrists and smiling at the man. Her lips were pink and shiny from a gentle coat of lip gloss. She licked her soft bottom lip in a playfully seductive manner. “Hey lover,” She drawled slowly, holding her ‘L’ for a moment as to let her agile tongue flick out of her mouth teasingly. The man in the water smiled at her words before his long, and rather hairy, arms came above the water and pressed against the rim of the pool. He pushed himself up out of the water, revealing his lean muscular body. He was wiry but still visibly strong. His chest was covered in dark, thick hair that led all the way down below the waistband of his black swim shorts. He brought his body over the water level and sat on the concrete. “What brings you here?” He asked, giving her a knowing smile. Natasha smiled lovingly, a look surely foreign to the dangerous Black Widow if you didn’t know her. But, to those who did… May 2018 “He did…” Natasha whimpered, her voice on the edge of tears. The… The Avengers left from the Snap- Steve, Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, Hela, Nebula, Thor, Carol and Natasha herself- waited around patiently, staring and mourning as acquaintances, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and fellow Avengers that had been victims of the Snap appeared on floating screens as Natasha struggled to speak. “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do…” She coughed. Bruce gave her a sad, empathetic look, nodding to tell her to continue. “He… eliminated half of all life,” Her voice broke when Laura Barton’s face appeared on the screens in the air. So many had disappeared. The confident high-flyer, Sam Wilson. The humble father, Scott Lang. The ever hard-lifer, Bucky Barnes. The adorably excitable Peter Parker. The wise prodigious king, T’Challa, Laura Barton and all three of her children, and so, so many more. Though, through all the pain and strife Natasha knew she would barely cope with, through all the strain and ache this event would cause, she knew one thing, she knew one man that would help her through it all, even though he had just come back less than a month ago. Natasha looked up and swallowed the lump in her throat as Bruce came close to her. He carefully wrapped his arms around her- careful to avoid the nasty healing wound she had taken from Thanos in the battle for life. Natasha bowed her head onto Bruce’s shoulder and sighed a breath shaky from the stress and the loss. “Where is he, Rogers?” Tony asked weakly from the table. “Don’t know, he just opened up a portal and walked away,” Rogers whispered across from Tony, gazing at an old, scratched golden compass from the forties. Inside were two pictures. One of Bucky, with his long hair and scruffy jaw and another of a brunette with shiny red lips. “But I know for sure, we’re going after the bastard,” He muttered, clasping the compass closed. Tony suddenly stood, almost outraged at Rogers’ words. “Really? We? We’re going after him? Cause,” he paused, scratching his head, “Last time there was a we, we blew up an airport, Cap! We blew up an airport and you ran away!” The venom in his words visibly hurt Steve, only exacerbated by the masked ‘coward’ comment. “But, no! Now, now that there’s a big bad we have’ta kill, you’re all about we again!” It was at this point that Rhodey moved between Tony and Steve. “‘Kay, Tony, y’made your point, now just sit down,” “Or is it just because we do our best after the fact!” Tony shouted, though Natasha separated from Bruce, enraged, and slammed her fists on the table. Everyone in the room jumped, some more than others. “Yes, Tony! There’s a ‘we’ again! The only reason there wasn’t before is because an alien invasion was used against us! Because Steve had to stop millions of deaths- including yours, mine, Sam’s, Peter’s, Bruce’s-” everyone in the room did their best to ignore the cracks in her voice and the tears in the very corners of her eyes “- and everyone else that was on this team! Because a well-meaning woman made a mistake with powers she couldn’t hope to understand yet! Is that a problem Tony? Well, it’s not my fault that you can’t put aside your fucking problems for more than five minutes!” She shouted, coming right up to Tony’s seat. He looked at her with a tired expression as she approached, but he dared not respond. Everyone knew that an angry Black Widow was not to be trifled with. Well, almost everybody. “When you two are done arguing like children, we have a monster to kill,” The new girl, Carol, spoke from her place. Natasha gave her a dark, hate-filled look, but Rhodey placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Carol rolled her eyes and scoffed before continuing. “Right- this is going nowhere,” she sighed arrogantly, turning to leave. “Where are you going?” Natasha asked callously. “To kill Thanos,” It wasn’t a request and it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a statement, a definitive, unarguable fact. It was also the end of Natasha’s patience with this cocky new girl. Natasha’s eyes grew even more infuriated and barely a second passed before there was a knife embedded an inch or two in the wall just beside Carol. Her cocky eyes went wide and her smile evaporated. She turned with a jump to see Natasha with her arm extended and a holster on her olive catsuit empty. “Look, I know you’re new here,” Natasha seethed, her chest heaving with a dark, deep, bubbling anger. Her green eyes were firing daggers from under her short, blonde hair. “But we do this shit as a team. So if you wanna do right by Fury and be an Avenger, you’re gonna have to work with us,”She growled, turning back to the table. “Do we have any idea where… He is?” “When Thanos was turning me into… this,” Nebula sighed, looking at her visibly false arm in slight disgust, “He spoke of where he wanted to go. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I’d ask ‘where?’, and he always said ‘The Garden’,” Rocket swallowed when Nebula finished- this blonde-haired Earth girl was just as feisty and scary as Gamora and he definitely didn’t want to waste her time- and quickly told, “Well, when Thanos snapped, it emitted a ridiculously huge cosmic-scale radiation wave like nothin’ the universe had ever seen- until two days ago when another one came from... this planet,” From the center of the table emerged a hologram of a serene grassy planet, and suddenly a multi-coloured aura- purple, blue, red, orange, green and yellow intermixed with each other- ruptured from the planet’s surface. “Thanos is there,” Nebula promised. Natasha felt her blood heat up again at the thought of finding Thanos. “Then let’s kill the fucker.” Natasha said evenly. She moved towards the exit of the room, Carol stepping away in a subtle fear of Natasha. The Black Widow gave her a warning look and stole her knife from the wall, holding it invertedly in a clear warning. She exited without a word, Bruce Banner following her. Carol gave him an odd ‘You know you’ll die, right?’ look but didn’t say anything. He followed his now-blonde past lover until they reached her room, where she planned to grab more gear, though she stopped at her door. “Leave me alone, Bruce,” She whispered. Her previous anger was nowhere in her voice and the breaking had returned. She sounded not only sad, but she sounded disingenuous. She bowed her head and Bruce could swear he saw the glisten of a tear fall from Natasha’s face. “Well, given the circumstances, an-and what happened last time, I think that would be… the worst idea ever,” He played with the long sleeve of his shirt and Natasha gave a trembling smile over her shoulder.She suddenly rushed over and wrapped her arms around. “I missed you, Bruce,” Present Five years. Over five years, they had rebuilt. They had rebuilt the Avengers the vest they could, yes, but they had rebuilt. Rebuilt their love that had been splintered when Hulk fled Earth in a Quinjet, for flawed but- eventually- understandable reasons. Bruce loved Natasha. Hulk also loved Natasha, but whenever Hulk was around, Natasha only seemed to get hurt. On the Helicarrier before the beast had fallen for the redhead, he had almost killed her. In the Battle of New York, she had blood dripping down her face. On almost every Code Green raiding party, Natasha ended up with a bruise, cut, fracture or limp. And, during Sokovia, she had come within inches of Ultron’s final hail of bullets. Hulk realized when he threw Ultron out of that jet… He was hurting Natasha more than anything else was. She didn’t love Hulk. She loved Banner, and Hulk only hurt her. So, he had taken himself away, forgetting Bruce even existed. Then, on Sakaar, he finally found what he wanted; People who loved him. A girl who loved him, truly. But, then Thanos happened, and he had… Thanos had beaten Hulk, and that was enough. If Hulk couldn’t beat something his size, was he worth anything? No, and he certainly wasn’t willing to go through another defeat or hurt more people in the middle of New York City just because Stark wanted him to. But then… She came back. It had been spontaneous, Bruce had another nightmare and his body just couldn't cope with the stress properly. It was then he saw her. Her hair was different- light blonde now- but her face… It was Widow, and she was there. There for Banner, yes, but she had… She had been there for him, too. It had been so much, too much, and Hulk was… Scared. Scared he would hurt her again. Bruce shook off the memories and looked to Natasha’s face. Her almond face was still decorated with a light smile, her olive-tinted eyes were hidden under her sunglasses, which were glimmering as they reflected the water before her. Her lips were full and a shiny pink. Her skin was still pristine and unblemished, if an unnoticeably slight bit darkened from the sun. Her shoulder length hair, returned to its pristine, vibrant fire-red, fell teasingly over her face, framing it better than any piece of art he’d ever seen. “Oh, saw a piece-of-art broad tanning on the waterfront, thought I’d come steal her heart,” He teased. They often did this, though neither knew particularly why. It was just a special kind of intimate fun to tease each other like this. “Really? Handsome man like y’rself,” She drawled, “Must’a been some broad,” Bruce smiled inwardly as Natasha’s smile lifted. Her pale cheeks reddened ever so at the compliment, even though she had grown used to getting them from her lover over the last five years. “Oh, she is. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Natasha pulled herself up and sat on her knees before she moved closer to her lover. Her smile looked more intimate as she removed her sunglasses and studied her lover’s tanned face. “What’s so beautiful,” She asked, though it was barely a question. Her words were closer to short breaths. Bruce swallowed as he felt his shorts shift with the beginning brush of an erection, but he kept up his facade. “Well, lot’s ‘a stuff, doll,” Natasha sighed and pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth at the pet name. “She’s a fiery redhead with a personality to match,” He began, watching Natasha’s body carefully. Her chest rose and fell evenly, though every inhale pushed her plump, constrained breasts toward him, almost in offering. Her chest was tinged slightly red, but whether that was from the sun or from something else he didn’t know. “She’s got the best eyes, like grass mixed with an aged olive branch. They’re like… A forest, like they’re all nature as to offer,” He whispered, Natasha staring so lovingly with those forest eyes. She smiled curtly and moved closer, putting her small hand on his. It was so much larger, and he felt so warm to her touch. Natasha paid careful attention as a water droplet rolled into the thick, curly greying foliage on Bruce’s chest, having to put specific focus so she didn’t tangle her fingers in it. But with all her focus, Natasha still couldn’t help herself. She moved herself even closer and moved the hand not occupied onto Bruce’s chest. She laced her fingers into the deep, thick brush as Bruce breathed easy. The hair was still wet to her touch and it felt so soft on her fingertips. But the sudden sensitivity running through her arm flowered through to the rest of her body. Natasha sighed shakily as she felt her entire body come to her true and complete awareness- and her body was airing a clear signal that caused a hitch in her breath; Natasha’s bladder felt quite heavy and full. The redhead’s knees caved towards each other slightly when the feeling, although not too terribly needing, pulsed against her flesh and against the lower curve of her stomach. Bruce smiled at her warmly, but his smile turned concerned when Natasha’s brow creased ever so in worry. “Hey’s, what’s wrong?” He asked, though Natasha didn’t register the question. Blood was beginning to rush through her ears at a firehose pressure and it was clouding her judgement like the blackest of fog. She knew she needed to go to the bathroom, but the sheen on Bruce’s body was causing a shudder down her spine that was stronger than the one rushing up it from her bladder’s fullness. Her primal mind’s logical processes weren’t registering in her more recognizable thoughts anymore. The only thing that was registering was… Natasha felt like she was watching herself, not at all in control of her actions as she dove against her lover’s lips. This was wrong. She had to go, she knew, but she couldn't pull herself away. Natasha was a great spy, very likely the best in the world, and she knew how to keep secrets. One that she had held particularly close to her chest- among military, governmental, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers secrets. She had quite a few... unorthodox sexual interests, many of which would be horrifying should anyone with malicious intent was ever able to find out. Natasha had confided almost all of her interests with her lover, and he thought nothing less of her for it. But, one was certainly more taboo than the others- maybe, sometimes it was definitely contested- and it was one she didn't mean to share yet, and certainly not without a foolproof plan. She... Bruce groaned in surprise and had to put a hand behind him to stop from falling back in the water. Natasha’s lips latched onto his and pried them open with next to no effort. She moaned and brought her hands to Bruce’s back and pulled him down onto her, her own back against her towel again. Bruce put his hands beside Natasha’s shoulders, but he didn’t pull away from her lips. Natasha felt her system say ‘fuck it’ as she moved her mouth down from Bruce’s mouth and onto Bruce’s jawline, licking her teeth as the gamma-warmed flesh, gently stubbled flesh. Bruce pulled away slightly and Natasha relented, breathing a little harder from the sudden heat between them. “Nat… What, what’s wrong?” He asked, his breathing in pace with hers. Natasha laughed sultrily and ran her slightly trembling hands down Bruce’s lean, muscularly taut chest. She indeed tangled her thin, skilled fingers into the thick, luscious hair once more and tugged on it lightly, reveling at the sheen in the light. “It’s not fair to tease me with this, Bruce, you know what it does to me,” She whispered haughtily, her foresty eyes lidded with a public-inhibited love. Bruce beathed a laugh and traced his redheaded lover’s bare left shoulder, ghosting the shadows of her toned bicep with his index finger. Natasha, feeling a resurgence of her need, crossed her strong, slender legs inconspicuously- though, as they were between his own, Bruce felt the action against his own thigh. “Are you okay?” He whispered. Natasha bit her bottom lip before she rose to her lover’s ear. Her words were breathy and hot on his skin. “I have to… go, Bruce, but I… don’t want to…” She swallowed in a slight nervousness- she knew that if someone she was on top of admitted they needed to pee but had no intention to leave, she would be… Well, she didn’t really know how she would react. She knew she should have felt disgusted with herself, but… “You mean…” Bruce mumbled, bringing Natasha from her trance. He looked down to Natasha’s belly and brought a hand down to stroke her soft, smooth side, toying with the band of her swimsuit. Bruce smiled at the notion and looked back up to his redheaded girlfriend’s deep green eyes. The look- it was a look of sensual playfulness and aroused curiosity, something not at all foreign to either of them- warded forward the logical thought of ‘Go to the bathroom, it’s getting intense,’. Natasha gasped a breath subtly and tightened her legs further. Her mind began sobering- not sobering exactly, she could still feel the warmth and illogical attitudes in her mind, but the logical ones overcame- and she gasped again. “Well, then Nat, I never expected…” Natasha’s mouth suddenly went dry when another wave of need crashed over her body, more intense than the last- so intense that it stole her breath right from her dried throat. She tightened her legs somehow more and her grip of Bruce’s chest grew stiffer as well. Bruce caressed her side again at the sudden tension racking through her before she choked out, “I-I should go…” “Why? You weren’t so inclined a minute before,” Bruce lulled, moving his hand over Natasha’s belly. The surface was soft and warm, but as he moved down towards the front of her bathing suit, the softness suddenly turned somewhat hard right above the band of her red swimsuit. Her bladder was filled and swollen and they both knew it wouldn’t be long. “I… I didn’t…” Natasha felt no words come forward, and she was unsure of what words she should have even said. “I… I have to pee, Bruce,” She admitted again, the mere mention enough to bring a pang of fullness. Her legs shook from their crossed tension and she bit her bottom lip as she looked away from her lover’s eyes. She never imagined herself in such a vulnerable circumstance, nor did she think it would be so… thrilling. Her heart was beating quite a bit faster than normal, her skin was ablaze- the sun had next to no part in that- and the pressure on her organs was, while uncomfortable and bordering on mildly painful, was beginning to feel… nice- or the thought of release was. “I know, but you kind of did this to yourself, Nat,” Bruce purred as he rolled off and sat beside her on her left, his right hand still on her lower belly. He used his other hand to keep himself upright as he leaned back. Natasha stayed on her back and kept her legs tight together as her lover rubbed her throbbing bladder. Natasha breathed heavily and began bouncing her legs with need as she sucked her lips in. “Oh, it’s getting bad, huh?” He teased. Natasha felt oddly playful at Bruce’s teasing voice. She nodded with a whimper, ghosting her hand over his with a want to hold herself that she suppressed for obvious reasons. She hissed in need and kept bouncing. “Mm-hm,” She suddenly recoiled when her bladder jabbed her again, though this jab was more powerful and painful than any previous. Natasha sat up and subconsciously moved her hand over her clothed opening, whimpering in sudden need. Bruce smirked at his girlfriend’s actions and leaned closer to her. “There are other people here, Nat,” He moved his hand to her wrist and tugged her hand out of her crotch. Her thighs immediately slammed together to take its place and she breathed steady a few times to regain her breath. “It’s starting to hurt,” Natasha commented, rocking herself back and forth ever so slightly. She knew this was turning into a game, but the growing need below her stomach was anything but. From here, she had three options; She could stop her game and go to the bathroom, she could snake her way into the pool- however gross that was- or she could… “Well, maybe you should go then, doll,” The pet name brung another sprout of red to her face as she smiled painfully, and the most logical option seemed to be the best for her current situation. Natasha moved to stand, but she was unable to when Bruce placed a hand on her tummy. She gave a look that read, ‘What the hell?’ Bruce returned a sly smile that could only be deciphered as one thing. ‘I didn’t mean ‘go’.’ “Bruce, I can’t… I,” She paused to cross her legs and focus on holding. Her need was getting worse, and now she knew that it was now-or-never. “Bruce, if I don’t go, I’m…” Natasha paused, partly from another painful pulse and partly from embarrassment. She knew that she had walked herself into a corner with this. She rocked herself back and forth, and she moved her foot against her crotch. She began grinding herself against her heel to hold herself, but she also began growing hot at the nearly bare contact. “If I don’t go…” She whimpered uncharacteristically weakly, though the pain in her lower abdomen was far enough to justify it. “I’m gonna… Oh God,” She pressed her cheek to her lover’s shoulder and her heel as hard into her pulsing core as her body would allow, grinding herself carelessly in desperation. She panted quietly and sighed in need. “I'm gonna pee myself,” She breathed. The way she said the arousing phrase was less of a continuation and more of a sudden embarrassed promise. No longer was it now-or-never, no longer was it an avoidable possibility... It was beginning to become an inevitability. Bruce smiled and licked his top teeth under his lips when Natasha gasped against his shoulder. Her hand, unable to go between her legs like her body needed, constantly flexed and relaxed on her thigh as her heel did its best to fill its place. The redhead’s hips were rocking back and forth and the barest moan escaped her mouth when her heel caused her swimsuit to brush her budding clitoris. Natasha’s mind was beginning to cloud again. She knew she needed to pee and she knew it would feel so good and that having an accident right here was inevitable, but she also knew that she was horny now, but one thing she didn’t know what she wanted first- did she want to pee herself to help her cum, or did she want to cum to help her pee herself? Either way, her reservations of saving her swimsuit were a faint, tattered memory, if they had even been there in the first place. “You will, will you?” He purred, sending a warm shock of arousal up her back. Similarly to before, the warmth was countered by a shiver- a literal shiver- of an electric jolt from her bladder as it once again aired its needs. Natasha, mindlessly horny and desperate to pee, could only nod frantically. It was then that the first leak jetted from her urethra. It was small, but when the warmth rolled down her warmed, flowering lips and down the gentle curve of her ass, Natasha squealed in a gasp and forced her heel inwards, apathetic to the wetness that soaked onto her foot. She curled inwards and tried to steady her breathing, but the hand that was fidgeting on her thigh shot between her legs, now not caring for anyone around. Her bladder was so full it was pounding against her belly, her stomach, her vagina. It was aching and was set to burst, and her urethra and pelvic muscles were burning with strain from holding back her flood. It hurt so bad, but the pressure on her and in her was so… pleasurable, and just the thought of more release was “Oh god, I-I leaked,” Natasha admitted quickly, gripping her pussy as tight as possible. She kept grinding into her wet heel and gripped herself furiously, even though she wanted nothing more than to just go. Bruce smirked at her words and gripped her side. His voice was barely a sultry whisper as he spoke in her ear, “You should just let go, Nat, before it gets more painful,” Natasha breathed a shaky laugh and nodded quickly, now only wanting to relieve the pressing pressure so she could deal with her other pressing matter. The suggestion was more like permission to her. Immediately, she began doing her best to relax her tense body. But, the more she tried to relax, the more her body only grew more contained and stressed. She had the bright idea to push, but that caused a burning stab to her belly. She hissed in surprise more than pain. She couldn’t pee, even when she tried. “I can’t, Bruce,” “What d’you mean?” He asked, tracing her hip. “I can’t- My body won’t…” Natasha whined pitifully, another painful roll into her bladder bringing bleary tears to her eyes. Bruce’s hand moved from her hip to her lower tummy, caressing the hard lump slightly distending from her belly. The caresses felt good, but they soon only served to hurt her bladder more. “It won’t…” She panted, desperation lacing her voice. “It won’t come out, oh god…” Bruce moved the hand not caressing Natasha’s overfilled bladder behind them and suddenly grabbed something before bringing her red towel forth. He rolled it up into a ball and motioned for her to spread her legs. She did without second thought, though a small spurt escaped her, with a small shiny spot appearing briefly on her hot clothed pussy. Natasha tried to capitalize on the leak and push to rest out, but it was to no avail as more stabbing pain wracked through her belly. Bruce put the towel between her legs and right against her opening, and as he retracted his hand he made sure to brush a swollen nub under the subtly wetted fabric. Natasha bit her lip and breathed hard in her best attempt not to moan, but not only was Bruce’s hand still on her thigh but the sun-warmed towel against her throbbing, tired bladder was so alluring, despite the fact that the release she needed so much was beyond her. “Bruce, I still can’t…” Her voice was growing desperate and sad, the pressure and stabbing in her lower abdomen was too much now. During her whole life, her pain tolerance had grown to almost inhuman levels but this pain was so unique and so goddamn bad. She felt like soon, tears would come to her eyes if she held on any longer. But her bladder absolutely refused to let go where she was. She knew that if she stood up, she would explode, but then everyone would see her. Another pang of overfilled warning smacked her bladder before Natasha was suddenly sucked into a kiss. Bruce’s lips worked hers open with ease, and the surprise of the kiss caused a hot spurt, larger than the previous to trickle down the warm inner part of her thighs, though her bladder still painfully refused to fully surrender. Natasha kept grinding herself against her heel and her towel desperately. Her hips were rocking back and forth on the towel beneath her, and she had to do everything in her power not to reach down her swimsuit. But, adversely, the pressure in her bladder was so painful and intense that she was worried it was going to have serious and dangerous effects. “Please,” She begged- not her lover, but the universe- to just let her wet herself. Bruce kissed Natasha deeper and rested his hand in the small of her back and began caressing her, trying to tempt her body into releasing its heavy burden. Natasha’s entrance was aching and in pain as a seemingly endless flood was restricted, and her muscles were bound to the burst. The stroking on her toned back was so nice, but the tension in her body made it feel so rigid, so uncomfortably rigid. Her entrance was furiously grinding against the towel and her lips were ravenously gripping whatever part of Bruce they could reach. Tears were now indeed budding in the corners of her eyes as the redhead pushed herself as far into her kiss as she was allowed by basic physics. Then, Bruce’s deft fingers sent a sudden, paralyzing shock up and down Natasha’s skilled, bendy spine. It began slowly, and painfully. Like a string of fire, a small stream of urine began rolling down the tender, sore inside of Natasha’s creamy thighs, soaking into the towel beneath her. Natasha moaned against her lover’s mouth and pressed herself further against him. Her legs began quaking slightly around her balled-up towel as her vagina slowly collapsed. Between them grew the slightest psshh as urine darkened the towel. Natasha gasped and sobbed in a turmoiled combination of pleasure and burning pain on occasion as the trickle slowly grew, the sound growing louder in parallel. Natasha felt her shoulders and her back shudder uncontrollably when her bladder truly did collapse. She moaned without control as the slight hissing from her weakened, trembling pussy turned into a forceful gushing. The small dark stain on the red towel and the slight golden shimmer along Natasha’s thighs both turned drastic- the darkness flowed rapidly, shimmering from the blasting pressure as the liquid bubbled up around Natasha’s crotch, slowly absorbing into the towel. She was doing it. It was finally happening. Natasha breathed deeply as her thighs quivered from the violent hissing. She was peeing herself. Finally. And Natasha couldn’t help but slump against her lover as a heavy orgasm crawled ever closer, focusing only on grinding her hips. All the pain that had filled her body was now evacuating with her pee. She breathed raggedly and impossibly deeply as she wet herself into the towel, her legs unresponsive as he hips moved back and forth. The pressure, the pressing pain and the torturous heat was fleeing her body and against her swimsuit and the friction she felt, the now wet, sopping towel rubbing against her hot, pulsating pussy, stole another small moan from her lips. Her vagina’s lips were flowered open against her red swimsuit, and the feeling of rough fabric through the wet material of her swimsuit was stimulating her lusty mind so much. So much her thoughts were irrational. Still peeing herself, Natasha used her hand to move her swimsuit out of the way- an odd spshkcc accentuating the movement. She placed her crotch back against the towel, and the sudden feeling of the hot, damp prickliness, in combination with the still rushing liquid, pushed a moan from Natasha’s mouth that she had to bite down on Bruce’s shoulder to muffle it. She wildly rubbed herself back and forth, her lips frictioning with the rough material as jetting urine sprayed further into it. At this point, the towel was beginning to oversaturate. A small, darkish puddle of yellow liquid began seeping out on the sun-heated concrete. It was growing just a bit slower than her flow. Natasha’s chest heaved erratically before she suddenly sighed with a heavy shudder in her breath. Her legs stopped rutting against the soaked towel and her stream sputtered somewhat, though it still continued to leak from her exposed opening. She felt her legs go slightly numb and her core to grow even more weak as it spasmed in pleasure. Natasha sighed heavily and fell truly limp against her lover as her legs trembled and ceased their moving. As she peed, she felt her swimsuit fall back over her pussy, the hot liquid pushing back against her sensitive lips once more. Unrestrained, she moaned weakly. Her chest had turned a subtle shade of reddish-pink from her orgasm, and the towel was beyond soaked. Natasha looked down to see a dark stain growing on the concrete below her from underneath her red, dark towel. She did her best to stop her peeing, but her weakened muscles could only slightly stem the flow with a cry of denial. So, the Black Widow sat in relieved, orgasmic silence as her bladder slowly drained, the towel little more than a formality as a dark puddle marked the concrete around her. Finally, her flow trickled against her swimsuit and her vagina for a few moments before Natasha finally finished wetting herself. Her breathing was still deep, a thick blush was still on her chest and her crotch was warm and damp. Natasha rubbed her pussy once more on the rough, wetted towel- sending a sensitive shiver up her back-before running a hand up her lover’s chest. She swallowed a small anxiety- she had just pissed herself for almost three minutes- before she looked to Bruce's eyes.His eyes were warm and there was a smile on his face, though it was small and dark. Natasha breathed in relief and a newfound emptiness. “Better?” Bruce asked, rubbing the small of Natasha’s back as her breath came back to her.Natasha nodded in a sigh and looked down to her soaked clothing. A slight embarrassment came to her, but she smiled in pleasure and emptiness. “Yes,” she replied hoarsely. Natasha leaned her head against Bruce’s chest, her breath finally taming to a general level. She sighed shakily and moved into a sitting position, taking her hands away from her lover. “I-I should… I should clean up,” she said, moving off of her drenched towel. Bruce smiled and moved before she did. He unballed the towel and laid it out over the large puddle, even though it was barely too broad to cover it fully. “That should dry in a couple minutes,” He brought Natasha up into a gentle hug, one she surrendered herself to entirely. She felt so satisfied and her legs were only barely keeping her steady. She did her best to maneuver her head and peck Bruce’s stubbly cheek, whispering a soft, “What’d you think?” It was an odd question with, seemingly, a simple answer. She had just wet herself on a towel, not to mention she had orgasmed from it too. Any normal person would be disgusted, but the look on Bruce’s face wasn’t disgust nor disappointment. It was a look of curiosity and of temptation. Bruce pressed his body against Natasha’s and held her close. “I think it was a test of your… Kinks, and I definitely think we can… Do something with it. Work it in with the others, definitely,” He whispered against her cheek as he brought her even closer. She smiled against his clavicle. “It’s not gross?” She asked, a slightly confused tone to her voice. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of to have the same fetish as a lover, but what were the chances. “Not at all. We all have our fetishes, Nat,” “Even you?” “Yeah, I have one,” “And you never thought to tell me?” She reprimanded jokingly. “You’re no better, apparently,” He admitted. “What is it?” Bruce moved against her ear and whispered it to her, and she couldn’t control her face running hot at his words. “Really? You?” She asked, her eyes slightly wider than before. “I could say the same thing for you. The world’s greatest spy, an Avenger and my girlfriend… Likes to pee her pants,” Natasha felt a red creep onto her neck at the mention of the words, but she couldn’t help the feeling that threaded through her whenever she did… that. “I guess they can go hand-in-hand,” She whispered, looking down to her chest. She suddenly couldn’t help but gasp when her feet were swept off the ground. Bruce held her in his arms, hers wrapped around his neck as he smiled against her lips. “They can, and I think they will. But for now, I think you need to rinse off,” He whispered. Natasha’s face suddenly went wide as she noticed them at the edge of the pool’s water. “No, Bruce! Wait-” He threw her in, her last action a gasp of a breath in before following her with a dive. Under the water he rubbed against her belly and took a hold on her from behind. “I love you, my kinky spider.” He kissed her throat when they breached the surface, creating a gasp of pleasure from the redhead. She smiled and replied, a low tone in her voice, “I love you too, my scientist." Sometimes, the best things that can be created are created through second chances, and second chances they had since they’d met each other. Now, all they had was time, and time was not to be wasted... Well then, @Batman007, there's another request done. Like I said, I'm trying to take these pieces easier as to not burn out, and I'm decently pleased with this one. Unfortunately, the first 'Natasha' prompt involved her actually being in charge of her accident, so if another is requested- or I do it after I finish the requests- I want to make it a true accident. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed my characterization of Natasha, and I hope that I did the MCU's best woman right. With that said, if you have a character you want a piece for, a situation for a piece- or even both- let me know and I'll add it to the queue. Right now, there are two requests that I have to do, so watch out for those. Since the 'wetters' weren't specified, I'll be using them to further complete the character checklist so we can get to the Line-Up. Right now, we're at 10/23, soon to be 12/23. But, feel free to request any character from the list above or any you think I missed, even if they already have a piece for them. In case you're curious; Pepper Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Lady Sif, Peggy Carter, Gamora, Wanda Maximoff, Shuri, Mary Jane Watson, Laura Kinney and Hela (she actually has two) All have their required pieces. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this piece, and expect Wanda causing some poor soul's accident next. Best regards, NothingLeft
  3. Well, thank you for the compliment! To answer the easier question, twenty-four women will be in the line; Pepper Potts/Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Lady Sif, Peggy Carter, Maria Hill, Gamora, Nebula, Hope Van Dyne, Ava Starr, Wanda Maximoff, Mantis, Valkyrie, Shuri, Okoye, Mary Jane Watson, Janet Van Dyne, Jane Foster, Betty Ross, Laura Kinney, Emma Frost, Hela, Christina Catastrophie (Angel Dust, 'Deadpool'), Vanessa Carysle and Carol Danvers. To answer the last question, yes and no. I find the Captain Marvel of the MCU quite arrogant, overconfident and reckless, but in a way that makes her unlikeable rather than likeable like Tony Stark's arrogance and overconfidence. So, I got rid of her- originally, I wanted to have her fall to Thanos, but then I wrote Hela's first piece. But, I have found a way- involving Loki, Doctor Strange and Wanda Maximoff- to bring a more altruistic and heroic version of Danvers. Though, this Carol still has her pride and will still very much get embarrassed and frustrated should her suit get stuck in the worst of times. If you, or anyone else, would prefer a more-film accurate version of Danvers- taking place in another universe, obviously- please let me know after the 'Line-Up' is released.
  4. No worries, Edward. I caught your suggestions, and I must preface; The Carol Danvers that will be added- alongside four other unnamed Marvel women that have appeared over the MCU- after the Line-Up is completed is an entirely iteration of the character, as Earth- 382 022's Carol Danvers died in the Battle of Earth. Nonetheless, yes; I will be adding Carol 'Captain Marvel' Danvers. Speaking of, I have some rather big news. During my burnout panic, I began marathoning the MCU in chronological order. I then noticed I missed a few potential... victims. So, once the Line-Up is completed- which, aside from the three requests currently in the works (Natasha wetting herself, Emma Frost and Wanda Maximoff forcing two other characters' accidents) and assuming no new requests come in until then, twelve other unique pieces until- five new characters will be added to the roster. It currently stands at twenty-three, and with the five new it will be increased to twenty-eight, obviously. I won't reveal these characters yet, so feel free to leave your best guesses. Regardless, thank you ever more for the compliments. I still feel that many characters that I have tried to tie to their on-screen appearances have been still been 'out-of-character'- namely Sif, Gamora and Pepper- despite my best attempts. Nevertheless, thank you. And I hope that, when it eventually comes, I do all the characters justice in their line-up. Thank you for reading and letting me hear your requests. If anyone has any requests that follow to rule's of this topic, feel free to leave them- A character, a situation or both, if you feel inclined to- and I will begin work. I must reiterate, I'm not going to be able to work on these pieces as much as I was previously, but they are being worked on. Thank you for reading this. Best regards, NothingLeft
  5. Pepper Stark Laboratory, November 2024 Tony was typing quickly on a small keyboard laid within a table, running diagnostics on his two most recent suits, the Mark XC and the Mark XCI- his and Pepper’s ‘Iron Man’ and ‘Rescue’ suits respectively. Apparently there was a mishap with the circuitry when the nanobots formulated, causing the left-hand repulsor to expel more heat than it was meant to which led to easy overheating when used repeatedly. Luckily, the bug was found before Rhodey’s Mark XCII War Machine suit was manufactured, which featured more powerful repulsors. If the bug had gone undetected, Rhodey would have had minor burns after just four shots in a close time frame. “Circuitry diagnostic completed, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.- Tony’s female-voiced, Irish-accented AI assistant commented. Tony nodded and sipped some black coffee from a square black ceramic mug. “Excellent. Continue diagnostics and check all system health within the major OS, then import all relevant OS data, statistics, battle strategies, as well as facial recognition and UI preferences from Marks eighty-four and eighty-five respectively, please.” Tony asked- the four gap suits had been prototypes for a more complicated and advanced nanobot structure, intelligence, simulated material and integrity- before he turned to a 3D hologram of his own suit. The entire suit was the same translucent light blue, part the circuitry within which was highlighted in green and the malfunctioning parts in red. The suit became opaque once more, with a shiny red-and-gold colour scheme. “Yes boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied obediently despite the- to an average human mind- tall and complex order. Tony nodded and spun the hologram on his suit to analyze the back. It was a few minutes before F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke again. “Boss, I found somet’n… Interesting, perhaps,” Tony looked to the diagnostics screen, seeing nothing on his suit highlighted. “Pep’s suit?” He asked. “What’s ‘interesting’?” “Well,” The AI began. “All other systems are healthy and operational in Marks ninety and ninety-one, but when I import data and statistics from Mark eighty-four- missus Stark’s suit-” Tony smiled with pride “- I’ve found that two of the four waste recycling systems have never been activated, boss.” Tony turned back to the diagnostics screen and swiped over to Pepper’s statistics and data. Indeed, two hadn’t been used. “Do we have records for doubleyou-are-esses one, two, three and four?” Tony asked, sipping his coffee again. “Boss, we do. Waste Recycling System Four- otherwise known as ‘The Hurler Protocol’- was used once, five months and three days ago, boss.” “Right, the Hulk-Out. When Nat got shot, I…” Tony trailed off, shivering at the memory. “I remember I used more than that when that… PR disaster happened,” He commented. “Indeed, boss, you made use of three then, and all four over the suit’s lifespan.” “And doubleyou-are-ess three?” “Waste Recycling System Three, known as ‘The Gas Passer Protocol’ is used regularly, last used four days ago, boss. But if I may, boss, I believe the lack of use of Waste Recycling Systems one and two- ‘The Party Emergency Protocol’ and ‘The Terror Protocol’ respectively- may serve to explain missus Stark’s sporadic disappearances from the field.” Tony sat in consideration, nodding slowly. “Why? Why hasn’t she used them?” He asked. “She reports that ‘they’re gross and weird’, boss, despite the recycling. I have also checked the recycler health with the added artillery functionality, and the systems are a-hundred-percent functional,” “Hmm,” Tony mumbled, preoccupied with why Pepper hadn’t used the recycling systems. “We gotta get her to try the systems, if only to increase combat presence and efficacy,” “I could lock her suit, boss,” “No, she knows ‘The Canopy Protocol’- Could we,” he paused, working his way through the answer in his head. “We could move the OS’s soft-open system signaler to... My suit, that way I could…” He paused and ran his hand down his face. “I could control the soft-open mechanism, and pretty much… That’s not, that’s not cruel, is it?” “Ethically?” “Rhetorical,” He was thinking, what would Pepper’s reaction be to this? Well, she would obviously be pissed off- nothing new there- and the suit would absorb the result, so she wouldn’t be angry about that, at the very least- the way the suit recycled was admittedly a small bit invasive. When the signal of release of any bodily function would be released, a nanobot tube would snake into the wearer’s clothes and attach itself to the urethra or anus and… well, simply be there to absorb and transfer anything to a small recycling system. The waste would be separated into its useful parts- in this case water- and the true waste, the useful parts being recycled and reused or reintroduced to the wearer when necessary. “Even so sir, ‘The Canopy Protocol’ would still override soft-opening,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. pointed out, Tony nodding as he worked out a safe way to effectively force his wife to go in her suit, without trapping her in it. He would never forgive himself if Pepper died because her suit was locked out of her control. “Yeah, I guess do it- move the soft-open system from her OS to mine, but leave ‘The Canopy Protocol’ untouched. If she ‘Canopy’s, she ‘Canopy’s.” Tony finally commanded, though he added a hasty “Mute,” when Pepper came racing down the basement stairs. “Tony! Tony, there’s a problem!” She sounded out of breath. “What?” “Code Green!” Tony’s face dropped and dam well nearly turned white. “Son of- F.R.I.D.A.Y., forget the tests, apply all changes and enter Emergency Mode, green! We need the armour now!” Immediately, two pillars in the wall spun, revealing two shiny, full-body suits. One was red and gold with a light blue, glowing circle in the chest. The other was blue and silver, the circle identical but white in colour. The blue suit was slimmer with a slightly larger chest and ever-so wider hips. “Morgan?” Tony asked quickly. “Happy’s still here and May’s on her way,” With a nod Tony ran into the red-and-gold as Pepper ran into the blue-and-silver before two valves above the suits opened. The couple engaged the flight systems and blasted through the valves. As they accelerated through the air, Tony spoke “F.R.I.D.A.Y., news or footage- keyword; Hulk!” Many pieces of both professional and amateur camerawork popped up on both Tony and Pepper’s in-helmet heads-up-display. They were all of similar events: A huge, green monster in a tight black bodysuit leapt across New York towards a construction site. Some angles even showed the beast had a redheaded woman in black, a long-haired brunette woman in everest green, a long-haired brunet man dressed in black and a helmeted man in blue in his grasp. Behind him was the Falcon, flying at his fastest possible speed and still only barely keeping pace. “Head to those co-ord’s, Pep!” “Yep!” “And F.R.I.D.A.Y., call in Vee-Three and Vee-Four!” Thanks to emergency mode, F.R.I.D.A.Y. obeyed, but one thing Tony had missed when he had left his home had been a message on the screen relating to his changes to the OS. ‘Executive Password Required’. Two Hours Later As Red Hulk leapt away in defeat with Red She-Hulk in his arms, Tony and Pepper could finally breathe easy. The skirmish had lasted a while longer than either had anticipated. The threat Natasha had called in to them had been Thaddeus Ross and his daughter Betty Ross- the Red Hulk and the Red She-Hulk. Usually, it wouldn’t have taken eight of them- Hulk, Black Widow, Agent: Genesis, Falcon, Captain America, White Wolf as well as Iron Man and Rescue- more than more than ten minutes, as Tony and Pepper could easily take them on with nothing but their Hulkbuster suits, but there had been a slight deployment error and they never came. Hulk had done the most damage to the pair, obviously. Natasha, who had been distracting them with an occasional peppering of gunshots, had gotten cornered by Betty. Hulk, seeing his lover in danger, had reacted almost too harshly. He had grabbed Red She-Hulk by the arm and threw her away, but the force of his rage-fueled throw had accidentally ripped Betty’s arm off in the process. That and he had forgotten to let go. She and Thaddeus had fled to allow Betty’s arm to regenerate, leaving the Avengers victorious again. Sam and Peggy were catching their breath, Natasha was Hulk’s arms as he worried over her and Steve and Bucky were surveying damage, both of the site and of the others. No one was badly injured; Natasha was practically untouched as was Hulk, Sam and Peggy both had a few scratches and Sam had a rough bruise on his head, Steve and Bucky were both healing from their injuries and the worst that Tony and Pepper were experiencing were dents in their suits- they had both caught rather wicked blows from Thaddeus, but it was nothing Tony’s incredibly advanced nanobots couldn’t protect against. “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., we can deactivate ‘Emergency Mode’.” Silence. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Still silence. “Shit, there must be some interference,” Tony whispered, already thinking of ways to remedy it when he returned home. Pepper sighed in slight irritation at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s absence- with a groan Tony recognized. He had to stop himself from smiling when Pepper looked around uncomfortably. He switched his voice from the Avengers-earpiece to the in-helmet communicator that only transmitted between him and Pepper. “You okay?” Pepper switched her voice over as well an responded with, “Yeah, I just need to get home,” “Uh, okay. I’m sure Morgan’s okay-” “It’s not that, Tony,” Pepper groaned. “Oh. You know the suit has a function for that,” Tony suggested, excited that the situation he had planned was finally playing out. “Oh my God, Tony- no, I’m not… going in the suit,” Pepper spoke incredulously. “Alright, fine. Let’s get home, then,” Tony complained, activating his thrusters. Well he tried to. Nothing happened, however. “What the Hell?” “What?” “The thrusters… The thrusters aren’t working,” “What? Why not?” Pepper asked, her voice rising in pitch a little bit. “I-I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bug,” Tony mumbed, looking at his gauntlets. He aimed his repulsor at a steel beam and fired, a blast indeed coming out from his palm. Hulk growled protectively at the shrill noise, turning Natasha away from the sound ever so. The redhead shifted in Hulk’s arms to look at Tony before questioning, “What’sa matter, shellhead?” “Nothin’, I was just…” Tony fell silent for a moment, considering another option. “Hey Nat, you wanna visit Morgan?” Tony and Natasha were perfectly alright as Hulk soared through the air from his titanic jump, having been used to the feeling of flying for years. But Pepper- who had only been using her suit for a year- was not acclimated to flight she couldn’t control. She had a death grip on Hulk’s arm and her suit’s eyes never left the reapproaching ground. Hulk hit the ground hard- though he kept his cargo secure- and dashed along the ground at a near-train speed before leaping again, the ground giving a crack sound as he did. Pepper gave a tense gasp when, from the height of Hulk’s jump, their cabin came into view. They hit the peak of the jump before they slowly began falling again. The ground got closer and closer before Hulk slammed into it, slowly bringing his momentum down as he came to the Stark Cabin. When he came to a stop near the front porch, Morgan, Happy and May were all outside. “Daddy!” Morgan rushed towards her father, still in his suit. He embraced his daughter in a hug. “Hey Morgan. Look, me and mommy are having a little trouble with our suits, so go warm up Auntie Nat and Uncle Hulk, okay?” He then motioned for Pepper ro follow him. The two entered the house and into the basement. Tony moved over to the screens he had been working on prior to the mission. “Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony called, though no response came. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had apparently been shut down. “How…” He rebooted the AI, and she responded with a- “Hello boss,” Pepper spoke to the AI, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., I can’t open my suit.” “That’s because the suits have been locked, miss.” Pepper recoiled from the words in surprise. “What? Why?” Before F.R.I.D.A.Y. could respond, the couple were suddenly met with a screen they were taken aback by. ‘Executive Password Required’. “Exec password? Why?” Tony questioned confusedly. “Some settings have been altered for possibly detrimental reasons, so an executive password is required to unlock Mark ninety and ninety-one suits.” Pepper groaned and the sound of metal-on-metal clunked together. Pepper had her legs squeezed together in desperate need. The Hulk’s jumping had clearly agitated her bladder far more. “Tony, I have to pee!” She whimpered in embarrassed admission, her suit’s mask duplicitous to her needing movements and groans. “It’s bad,” She groaned, her armoured hands over her crotch. “I know, I know,” He replied. He moved his hand to the panel of letters, but paused. “What’s the matter?” She asked desperately, rocking her body back and forth. She whined again, her hands desperately clawing at the crotch of her suit in a fervent attempt to grab herself. “I… Uh, F.R.I.D.A.Y., what systems are offline?” A list appeared as the AI read them, one by one. “Soft-lock opening systems, weapons systems, flight systems-” “What protocols are offline?” “All protocols, boss,” “Shit!” He cursed, shaking his head. Pepper whimpered again, once again shakily asking her husband what was wrong. Tony sighed with consideration. “Shit…” “No, no no! Fff… Tony! I just… Please!” Pepper cried. Tony’s breath hitched when Pepper gasped shrilly, telling him the smallest drip of sunlight-coloured urine had rolled down the inside of the shiny, sapphire-shaded surface of her armour’s thigh. He turned back to the password screen, his fingers only now realizing what exactly was wrong. “I...” He sighed again. “Tony!” Pepper cried. “Maybe-” “God, Tony please, I’m gonna-” “I forgot the password!” “What!” Pepper froze. Another spurt, a larger one, rolled down her thighs at the thought that she was stuck in her suit. “Look, I have a lot of passwords, okay!” Tony defended. F.R.I.D.A.Y. backed him up as she confirmed with, “It’s true, he does.” “Tony, did you write it down?” Pepper asked, her voice breaking with pain. Her bladder was so full and it stung- no, it didn’t sting, not entirely. It burned. It was like fire was below her stomach, and every leak- one rolled from her pussy and trickled down her inner thigh, soaking into the fabric of her suit at the mere thought- felt like flames bursting forth. The groin of her undersuit was damp and hot, and the wetness and warmth was only spreading with every- fuck, not another one- leak, and the leaks were growing more and more common. The warmth was disturbingly accommodating, almost as if her expelled pee was beckoning the rest of it out of her, quite against her will. It was also... Hot. Both in the temperature and the sexual appeal, but Pepper absolutely would not piss her pants because she suddenly felt a little horny for whatever reason. Her bladder pulsed again, bringing a cry and the tears that had budded in her eyes rolled down her cheeks from a whole matter of things; Fear of wetting herself. Shame of her need. Shame of admitting she wasn't opposed to losing control. Pain from her bladder’s constant crying. Her muscles were beginning to ache from holding, and she was truly wondering how much time she had left before the worst happened. It hurt so much. Her bladder pressed against the metal contact prevention suit- her undersuit- and the way the fabric rubbed against her tummy, her bladder, her dampened nether lips and her heated thighs was torturous, but not only in a negative way. “No, that’s an easy way to forgo security-” Tony argued, testing out one password. It was rejected. “Tony!” Pepper cried, her voice cracking again. “Pep, I’m trying-” Another password, still rejected. “Tony!” “I’m doing my-” ‘Nope.’ “TONY!” Pepper screamed. “Maybe…” ‘Got it,’ “Executive password accepted. All suit functions, systems, and protocols reengaged, boss,” Pepper laughed desperately and whimpered before asking, “Tony! My suit-” she whimpered again, her legs squeezing together once again from within her armour “- still won’t open!” Her thighs were shaking and cries echoed from her helmet. ‘Yeah, I know, Pep,’ Tony thought with a smile. But, still, he knew it would be best to play along with a facade rather than admit, at least until Pepper finally used her suit’s capability. “What do you mean, Pep?” “It won’t- Oh, god! Canopy, canopy, canopy!” She shouted desperately. Almost immediately, Pepper’s suit opened, releasing the redhead from her locked prison. Tony’s throat bobbed as he saw the dark spot covering his wife’s crotch. It was coating her vagina and dipped below onto the inner parts of her thighs. The fabric immediately over her vagina grew briefly shiny, and a few more strings of dark urine bled down from the large mark. “No! Fuck, no, come on!” She begged, falling down to a squat in a last-ditch attempt to hold herself. The movement caused- either from her darkened undersuit or from another loss of control over her overfilled organ- a spurt of hot urine to spray onto the concrete floor. “...Fuck!” She cursed, her hands gaining a slight sheen as they tightened around her wet crotch with a slightly drawn-out squlch. “Pep, the suit. It has a recycle function-” “I’m not pissing in your suit, Tony!” She blushed ever so at the thought, but she pushed the disgusting- if she convinced herself it was gross, her mind wouldn't get aroused at it, right? “C’mon, Pep,” He soothed, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s better than the alternative,” Pepper grew silent apart from whimpers of desperation, telling him she knew he was right. She rose with a whimper, and another leak came with it- a larger one that caused the woman to whimper and hold her stance, slightly bent over and tears slowly running down her face. Her fingers were interlaced and crushed against her damp crotch, her fingers covered in a web of shiny urine. The feeling of wetness on her exposed skin only made the desire to empty more powerful, and that only made her disgusting fantasy more electrified. In truth, Pepper had always been morbidly fascinated with... Pee accidents. When she had been a teenager, she had experimented with it. Nothing serious, though there was one night that would never leave her mind. Regardless, she would not allow something she had buried for so long to come back to haunt her now. “Pep, come on,” Tony whispered, carefully wrapping his armoured arms around Pepper’s shoulders. Pepper’s eyes were glued shut, her thighs were stuck together at an impossible tension and her mouth was sucked in. She nodded and opened her eyes, turning to her suit in a final collapse. she would use the suit. Tony turned back to the control panel for the suits. There was silence for a few moments, part Pepper’s desperate whines until she spoke again. “No… No, God, please…” She whimpered, with the slightest undertone of haughtiness. Tony turned to his wife confusedly before he prompted her once again to enter her suit. But it was then he heard it. Drip. Drip. Drip. And it was slowly accelerating. Tony looked down and froze on the spot. The dark spot that barely presented on his wife’s rear was slowly, slowly growing. The darkness was shiny as liquid spilled down her slender, long legs at a pace envious of molasses, no doubt from Pepper's weakened attempts to hold her accident back. It crawled down her slender thighs, across and down her calves before creating a puddle at her feet. The small puddle also caught the liquid that fell directly from her crotch, and the golden-ish puddle was growing similarly to the darkness on and down her legs. Pepper sobbed quietly as a faint hissing began to come from her urethra to accompany the running liquid. Pepper’s hands clamped back down on her clothed pussy in a last-hour attempt to stem her incredible flow, however they only became more soaked. As time passed- it seemed like hours, day even, as Pepper sprayed- and the slight trickle was slowly morphing into a steady flow. The puddle beneath Pepper grew larger as lava-like urine poured down her legs, flowing gently yet with reckless abandon. “Pep?” Tony asked quietly, not quite ready to face her wrath. Pepper sobbed a gasp of desperation and a fast-returning past she had long wanted to bury and her legs gave out, allowing her to collapse with a small splash in her hot pee, yet her flow was quite ceaseless. Tony came to her side and she collapsed into his shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare as his wife’s puddle grew, alongside a disturbingly arousing hissing. There was a bubbly splishing as her pee ran down out of her urethra, from her vagina, down her trembling thighs- absorbing into her undersuit as much as the already heavily saturated material allowed- and over her bent legs before pooling noisily in her puddle, which was already large. Pepper sobbed again, though the sob held a gasp of relief, no doubt thanks to the increasing lack of pressure on her other organs. “It’s okay, Pep. Just get it all out,” Tony sighed when he eventually broke his trance with his wife’s desperate accident, rubbing her back. Pepper gasped in another sob as her vagina sputtered noisily. The volume of the hissing accelerated into a guttural tccch as she forced the remaining pee inside of her out of her sore, weakened bladder, into her undersuit and into her puddle the forceful push lasted several seconds and halfway through a golden-tinted jet even burst through her crotch to splash into her puddle. The sound was hellacious yet arousing, unknowingly to the both of them. Finally, the flow began dying. It was slow, but eventually the forceful blast faded to a steady stream to a slight, everlasting trickle. The trickle seemed to drag out time, only punctuated by Pepper’s saddened yet satisfied gasps and sobs. Eventually, the trickling, accentuated by the eponymous and alluring noise, ceased. Pepper’s chest was shuddering with sobs and gasps of relief and peace, despite her sopping wet undersuit and the puddle that lay beneath her. It was still warm and the warmth brought an alien but sure comfort and... The arousal she knew was inevitable. “Oh God…” Pepper sighed, as if just realizing what had occurred over the past few minutes. “I… I didn’t make it,” She sighed, though not in utter discontent, disappointment or despair as Tony had expected, but with… A compromised sigh. Yes, she had wet herself. Forcefully. But, the warmth radiating both into and away from her entrance was not only comforting- as was Tony’s embrace around her, which she felt like he could melt into at any given time- but it was… Well, it was making her a whole other kind of wet, and she definitely would die of embarrassment if her husband knew she was getting turned on by a pee accident she easily could have avoided had she listened.. But, a sudden shame took over her mind when a squelch came from between her hot, soaked, trembling thighs. Subconsciously and very much out of her control, she rubbed her legs together, feeling her vagina grow more heated. She bit back a moan when her movement stopped. Her haughy mind had thrown years of discipline and abolishment of her horrid... fetish as her clitoris pulsed subtly against her swollen, reddened, soaked- in both ways- lips. Tony seemed oblivious to her pleasure and whispered, “Come on, Pep, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” She nodded wordlessly, nestling into his armoured shoulder before she suddenly realized that he was still in his suit. “I thought it would’ve been awkward to, y’know, get it in the middle of… Are you okay? That was more than I thought your petite little body was even capable of holding,” Tony laughed, his suit evaporating to the circle of light in the center of his chest. “Well, I think I just proved I couldn’t hold it, Tony,” Pepper pointed out, her face heating at the rather... there was just away that saying felt to her that tickled a part of her... interest a bit too much. Tony scoffed a laugh and nodded with, “Touché. Though, why didn’t you get in the suit?” He asked, giving her a look. She merely shrugged, unable to formulate an answer to his very legitimate question. It was a combination of her body had sheerly given up, and had drained her pressured organ of its own volition. But another part was that she didn’t want to get in the suit. It was like… Like… Like she wanted this, though she’d never say it. “Anyway, come on, I’ll run you a bath, okay?” “Okay.” “Would you like… company?” He asked carefully, knowing he'd be stepping on eggshells of anyone else. “I would, yes. I…” She sighed. “I kind of have another problem, too,” “Oh? Are you turned on because you wet yourself, missus Stark?” Tony asked with a smirk. The immature and fetishized term made Pepper’s face catch fire with embarrassment. “Oh, really? I suppose, my love, you have a fetish,” The salacious way he lathered the filthy, stigmatized, taboo word into the air to carelessly and casually sent a shock up the redhead’s spine- a shock that soon jetted down to her vagina, lubricating it even further. She sighed in defeat. "I know. I've known since high school, but I just... Wanted to bury it. It's so..." She trailed off, too embarrassed to continue. Well, she had just admitted to her husband that she had pissed her pants in her teenage years and liked it, it didn't get anymore embarrassing. "Pep, you don't bury these things. I've got them, y'know-" at the mention, Pepper poked her cheek with her tongue in a salaciously suggestive manner- "-and they just... they don't need to be shunned. But, that’s for another day. Come one, Pep, bathtime,” Pepper rose with Tony as he offered her his hand, and the stch that came from the still-warm fabric only tickled her embarrassing but amazing rediscovery. Tony roped her into a chaste kiss before beckoning her to follow upstairs. So, yes. Virginia ‘Pepper’ Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, wife of the world-saving Iron Man, proud mother and powerful Avenger Rescue… Liked peeing her pants, and has since her high school days, Funny how that sounds, but… she wasn’t at all opposed to truly exploring this… Part of her. So, a quick 'Request Granted' to @Kitty Angel for their Pepper chapter, and then... The elephant in the room, my disappearance. Well, I'll just be truthful, because they are very weak reasons. The first was this chapter. I wanted to stay loyal to the prompt given while also not violating either Tony or Pepper's characters too much, and that in combination with making sure all of F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s protocols and mannerisms were consistent and sensical, et cetera, et cetera. Regardless, this piece went through, I shit you not, seven rewrites before I settled on this turn of events. I know it ends in a cliche, with the wetter "aCtUaLlY bEiNg InTo It", but I felt by adding history, it was given validity. Maybe not, but now I'm prattling. The second reason was, again, quite bullshit, and that is burnout. I have been burned out of writing projects before, and when I felt burnout creeping in on this, I panicked and stopped posting for it. So, I'm most likely not going to be able to support a piece a day, which I apologize greatly for. I promise, the other requests- Natasha wetting and then Emma and Wanda forcing someone else to wet- are underway, as promised, I just can't give a concrete date. Again, I'm so sorry for disappearing, and I hope this chapter can begin to make amends. Regardless, enjoy this chapter. I can't be sure when Natasha is coming, but it is in the works. In the meantime, feel free to request any character, prompt or both, as long as they adhere to the first post's rules. Thank you for reading and putting up with my fussy bullshit. Best regards, NothingLeft I am sincerely sorry for my disappearance.
  6. As someone in this thread has iterated, the matured theme of the character is an interesting knob to turn. And as always, omorashi and talkativety go beautifully hand-in-hand. The upliftling sense Theresa felt as she stripped also halted a common problem with 'humiliation wettings', which is the sense of, not dread but something curiously familiar. Regardless, excellent piece and good work!
  7. I think I have just the thing for both of these ideas. Consider them underway!
  8. Of course. Paying respect to quality is the best way to keep your prospects out of a ditch, and thank you for allowing me to utilize your piece.
  9. Thank you very much. I may say this too much, but you lovelies have no idea how uplifting and passion-generating these small comments can be. I can only thank you with these posts and pieces, and I hope they suffice. Thank you, all, so much.
  10. Video or story, that's an incredible way of hypno- and one that's rather unique, I'd wager! Either way it's done, I think it would be an impressive piece. Particularly, the small leaks as she learns her triggers are quite stimulating, as is the lover coming home in the middle of the incident. With your permission, could I include something similar- mainly just the concept of an accidental hypno incident- in an omorashi fanfiction compliation? I would obviously credit you.
  11. Wow! For an amateur writer, this is certainly better than my first attempt. The explanations and descriptions of her squirming and the way 'her whole sex was on fire' is written an utilized is brilliant for a newer omorashi writer. Keep up the good work- though don't burn yourself, that's a hard ditch to dig out of. Massive respect either way!
  12. This is sounding excellent. A good twist of the norm- a cruise setting with four friends, some new aquaintances and few dicks, but with omorashi themes, settings, and vibes. I particularly like 'Janet', as I am a huge fan of the shy, big-breasted, weak-bladdered women. Top tier, and I can't wait for the next part- no rush though, I can appreciate how long something like this takes. Good work, my friend!
  13. Hela II: Ragnarok Death’s Prison Hela was carried in chains through the dark seemingly endless void that was, unknowingly to her, Death’s prison. She had been in this realm just weeks before the victory over the Valkyries, though she could not recall why. She tugged her chains in an attempt to at least grant herself a bit of room to fight, but the large skeleton monsters had their grips otherworldly tight. They were walking for what felt like ages before they came to a doorway, formed seemingly from the black mist that fell against the ground, fluttering away from any footstep. The doorway opened, and as they entered, Hela felt her breath exit her. She was kicked to the ground before one of the massive monsters threw her into the room, the doorway disappearing behind her. Hela swore revenge and attempted to rise, but the black, seemingly glass chains were far heavier than she expected. Still, she managed to stand. She seemed to be in a large chamber, fit for a king or queen. “Mmm…” She heard. A large, black throne, made seemingly out of the mist, suddenly formed in the center of the room. Its back was facing Hela, but she could see wisps of a dark cloak ghosting the hard edges of the light-absorbing seat. “You! Who are you!” She shouted, her chains rattling as she moved. The woman in the chair laughed in a low, sultry voice before Hela collapsed on the ground. When her bearings came to her, she was at the feet of the woman. Her flesh was death-white and her cloak was black and shadowy. The woman was considerably voluptuous, with large breasts held by a taut, open corset showing off much of her pale cleavage. Her legs were crossed over, the right planted on the misty ground, and she wore tall, black heels over dark garters that receded into the odd whore’s cloak- of which had a slit in the left side, revealing almost too much of the being’s pale, substantial thigh. But, the most unnerving detail of this woman was her face. Or lack thereof. Her face was a clean, polished white skull, with vacant, impossibly dark crevices. Hela was not intimidated by… whatever this woman was as the Goddess stood before her, though she seemed preoccupied with a yellowed photograph. “Who are you?” The woman paused, the skull moving to ‘look’ at Hela. She held her chin high as the skull studied her, the photograph fading into black mist. The cloaked woman rose to stand before Hela, meeting her exactly at eye level despite her heels. The cloak she wore fell some distance past her feet, ghosting along the floor behind her. “I am… Death.” The woman answered. While the jaw of the skull moved with the words, her voice- which sounded oddly warm and sultry- came from everywhere around her. Despite the illusion, Hela shook her head and scoffed. “Please, I am the goddess of Death. I have conquered the Nine Realms and Asgard’s Valkyries. I shall conquer you too.” She said, her voice condescending and commanding. "Unless you would like to join my side," She offered, raising an eyebrow. Death scoffed at Hela before a supernatural force pushed the woman in chains to the ground. She was then lifted up, and black glass bars suddenly formed out of the mist, harder and stronger than any metal. The chains welded and melted cleanly to the bars, locking Hela’s arms above her head. Realizing what had happened in the brush of a moment, Hela writhed and struggled in the chains, however it turned out fruitless. Death placed her hands against the bars and leaned her body to the right side, pushing the left of her curvaceous hip out. Her solid, pale thigh and shadowy, curvy calf emerging from the slit in her cloak. "You really don't know what's happening, do you?" Death laughed sultrily. Hela groaned when the chain didn't relent, gritting her teeth in her best attempt to show her dominance as her horns refused to come forward. "You're a captive. A prisoner. You’re my prisoner, a gift from your father,” Death smiled at the Goddess’ rage. “Don’t worry, this prison is tied to Odin’s life force, so… We have until Odin dies, to have some fun…” Death smirked dirtily, though Hela knew she meant nothing fun for her. “But…” She whispered, stroking a bar of the cage almost erotically, “Unfortunately he doesn’t want you too old when this prison fades, so I promised that the fifteen-hundred-or-so years he has left-” she sighed dramatically “- will only be a few hours, to us…” She sounded disappointed but stood nonetheless. “So, I guess we’ll wait for it, hm?” She sighed, turning back to her glassy throne. Her round, firm butt swayed back and forth slightly before she faced Hela again and sat, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her elbow, which she rested on the arm of her throne. Hela felt a swell of confidence knowing how short a time she would be here. “You think mere hours will torture me?” She asked incredulously, looking the voluptuous woman up and down in slight disgust. Death laughed breathily. “I think that’s up to you, Goddess of death.” Death asserted. Some Hours Later It had been… Hela had no idea. She knew it had to have been a few hours at least, as Death had been filling her in on centuries worth of happenings. Apparently, her father had traded her life for a safe opportunity to gain a new wife. They had a boy of theirs, calling him their firstborn. Hela felt only more anger and murderous resentment enter her being as she learned of her half-brother, Thor: God of Thunder. Her loyal weapon, Mjolnir, was bestowed upon the child, Death commented. “Mm, he’s good with it- kid can already summon lightning. Better than you, I imagine.” Hela felt the uncomfortable feeling of her dominance being threatened, but she kept her face as neutral as possible- well, her ‘neutral’ face was still very pissed off in this whore’s presence, but it was the best she felt she needed- despite her half-brother’s successes. Death was obviously expressionless, but she still looked bored as she sat there. Her leg on top of the other was bouncing with boredom as the green flames in the eye sockets of her skull told her all that happened. It was a few empty minutes before Death spoke again. “Oh, Thor’s first real battle, how exciting,” Her tone was duplicitous to her words. Death ran her soft palm down the hard ridges of her skull and sighed dramatically. “We still have a few hours, Goddess, get comfortable,” she mumbled as Hela rustled her dark chains again. Hela was feeling the slight beginnings of another uncomfortable feeling, and one that she definitely didn’t want to have while she was restrained in such an exposing manner. Hela was beginning to feel her bladder complain. It wasn’t anything extreme yet, and she could definitely hold it in for however many hours she had left in the prison, but with no other distractions than Death’s lusty, breathy commentary, she knew it would be the only thing she’d be able to concentrate on. It felt more awkward as of now and Hela couldn’t stop a groan of impatience and rising stress. “How much longer, demon?” She asked irritatedly. Death seemingly looked her over and chuckled to herself. She rose from her seat and approached Hela’s cage, her hips swaying with every dull click of her dark heels- every other step, her pale leg flashing out of its home. “We’re going at about two hundred years an hour, I’m working this as fast as I can,” Her bottom jaw clicked against her top with frustration and boredom. “We have to get to the very end of twenty-seventeen for Odin’s death. Why, getting antsy?” She asked, tilting her weight onto a single leg. She put her small hand on her hip, causing her leg to once again present itself through the slit in her cloak. Hela would not admit to this… lesser being- of who’s force she was in control of- of her need to relieve herself. However long they had left, she could hold herself out. As Death analyzed Hela’s retrained body, she saw a slight shift as the goddess tightened her thighs together and pulled her hips back and in. “Oh, already?” Dammit. “Well, we’re only in the twelve-hundreds, so you got around four hours left. If you don’t make it… don’t worry, this place will be gone when Odin dies. If you do, that’s when you should probably find somewhere to…” She trailed off, using her free right hand to motion to the Goddess. Four hours. She could wait four hours. Hela felt her bladder pulse lightly and tightened her jaw. Four hours, that was all that was left. Four hours. Two and a Half Hours Later She wasn’t so sure anymore. It had, by her estimates, been only two, maybe two and a half hours and Hela’s bladder was worsening. It felt heavy and needing, and it took much of her impressive willpower to resist crossing her thighs- at least her legs were free. She was growing angrier as time passed, resenting Lady Death for feeling the need to bind her hands above her head when she was already in a cage. At the very least, she wanted to be able to remove her outfit so as to not ruin it. “We are now in the seventeen hundreds, only an hour and a half left, Goddess. Can you still hold on?” She asked tauntingly, taking pride as Hela flinched at the verbal mention of her need. “I’m… confident I can reach that goal, I’ve gone longer, you being,” Hela spat, drilling holes into Death’s pale flesh with her steel-coloured glare. Death scoffed with what could’ve only been a smile by the sound of it. There was a sudden drop in her bladder- almost as if it had decided to take its matters into its own hands- that Hela instinctively and immediately had to cross her legs to avoid an early disaster. She bent over as much as her restraints would allow and groaned lowly. Death exclaimed in a similar tone when Hela bent herself. “Confident, huh? It’s starting to look a little rough there. Why not just let go, it would most likely be easier,” Death considered. This time it was Hela’s turn to scoff. The drop in her bladder faded, and the Goddess carefully took her proper stance. She looked to Death, who had her chin on her fist as she studied Hela. “That would be… childish, unbecoming and disgusting, though I don’t expect such a primitive being as yourself in under stand,” Hela commented roughly, though the intensity brought a poke from her bladder. She crossed her legs in her best attempt to hold it. Death teleported to the cage’s edge in an instant. Her stance angered by the insult and her cloak fluttered around her, almost like it was mildly windy. “Primitive? I’m not the one in the cage, I must remind you,” “As much of a displacement and disappointment as that is,” Hela quipped. “At least I’m not going to shame myself with failure,” Death spat back. Hela clenched her jaw in response. She wouldn’t allow the reality to sink in quite yet, but the very back of her subconscious warned her of its truth. She warded it off and responded with, “I assure you, I will make it,” “Then what? You won’t be returning to Asgard, I can assure you. You may as well do it here, where no one can possibly know it happened,” Death proposed. Hela took but a second to consider Death’s idiotic idea. “I would never do it before the likes of you, and never within my uniform,” “I could turn around,” Death mocked. “And the uniform?” “Oh, that’s something that I don’t care about. In uniform, out of uniform, doesn’t matter to me,” Death sighed, clearly growing apathetic. “How am I to get out of my uniform?” Hela asked, eyeing Death with incredible caution. “Well…” She held the ‘el’ far longer than necessary, “You could ask really nicely,” Death offered falsely. “You are scum,” Hela spat, tensing her legs as her bladder ached with pain. “I am Death.” With that, Death turned back to her throne and returned, sitting in a relaxed position as she silently resumed studying Hela’s now-desperate form with interest. A few minutes of occasional squirming from Hela later, Death commented, “I could make you, you know. Would that be easier?” It was mocking and high-held, but Hela could tell that it would be more of a forceful ‘make’ than a gentle. “I already stated- I can make it. Get yourself a pair of ears,” She jabbed, tightening her thighs. Her bladder quivered with need, and Hela’s upward stance didn’t help her. The goddess bowed her head and did her absolute best to fold her body in an attempt to hold it. “Well, you better be doing your best to hold it, because we still have two hundred more years to go. That’s an hour, last offer,” Death proposed again. “I’d rather fail.” Hela spat bitterly. Death scoffed and simply said, “Well, okay.” Thirty minutes passed before Hela felt the first leak. She tightened her legs impossibly further as warmth filled her crotch more, spreading into the tight fabric that made up her uniform. She bit her tongue to resist groaning, though Death noticed the movement when the glassy chains rattled- her interest had fallen off Hela and back onto her photograph. “Oh, is it happening?” Death asked, crossing one pale leg over the other in interest. Hela breathed hard before looking up to her captor. “No… I’m making it, despite you.” Hela swore, looking into the soulless eye sockets with contempt thicker than Death’s milky thighs. Death laughed before rising. She moved to Hela’s cage and began circling it like a vulture ready to steal its prey away. “Are you so sure? It’s only nineteen-oh-nine, we still have a half-hour left. Will you make it? Will you make it, even if you think of fast-moving streams?” Hela swallowed at Death’s words, her bladder pulsing with need. “Bubbling rivers, trickling along so freely?” She moaned at the end of those words, mimicking the relief and freedom that would come so easy if Hela were to just- “Stop,” The goddess warned threateningly, despite the fact she had no power. “Even if you think of tall waterfalls, sending splashes of warm, warm water everywhere? Even if you think of a small trickle, drip, drip…” Death was now popping her voice with every 'p'. "Dri-puh..." Drip, drip. Almost perfectly synchronized to Death’s words, Hela felt her bladder leak a few small sprays of its vast contents. “Think of a hot, beautiful geyser, just gushing with water, absolutely losing its control, like if your legs were to be uncrossed. Like a dam just bursting, I’d bet,” Death moaned. Hela felt her bladder beg for its release as Death tormented her with the sounds and the images her mind generated were almost more merciless. “Imagine slow, steady squirts just escaping you… spsh, spsh…” Hssss… Hela screamed in rage as her legs fell apart, her damn shattering. An ear-ripping hkkk emanated from her urethra as her bladder drained into her uniform. The goddess thrashed her chains as her legs turned inwards from a loss of control, hot streams running down her thighs and her calves before it pooled at her feet. There was a relentless splashing below her as what piss didn’t flow into her uniform spilled from her clothed vagina and fell, growing the puddle around her. Death cheered in surprised amazement. “So much for making it,” she commented slyly. “I, am going to kill you!” Hela shouted, though all the bite in her threat was stolen by her ferocious piss slapping the puddle of the same beneath her and her cheeks heating with shame and rage. Hela had to fight a groan of relief, but it slowly morphed into deep, sharp rage. She stood there for seemingly minutes as she wet herself uncontrollably, her anger only growing as did her puddle. Her bladder slowly began running itself empty, and Hela spread her legs slightly to coerce the rest out, now acknowledging that it was better to be completely empty than preserve just that much dignity and control. As the blast reduced to but the thinnest rivulet along her inner thighs, Hela promised vengeance against her captor. The stream finally faded with a final shiver firing lightning up Hela’s spine. She roared as she stood on quivering legs, weak from relief. Her cage, her chains and the throne disappeared, leaving only the Goddess and the Embodiment. “Me?” Death asked glaringly as she knelt next to Hela. “No.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because first, you have to kill Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson, and anyone else who crosses your path to them.” “Why would I listen to you?” “Because I am your commissioner, and Thor Odinson is the greatest threat to my greatest prize!” With an otherworldly strength, Death grabbed Hela by the throat and heaved her up off the ground. “Am I clear, Goddess of Death!” With but a reluctant nod, Death, the prison and the wetness in her crotch, on her as and covering her thighs disappeared, and Hela was left in darkness. But, from far away, she saw a splash of green, hearing her father’s voice emanating indiscernibly. She moved, slowly towards it, as with the knowledge she had of her banishment, she was prepared to kill. To kill him, Thor, Loki and anyone else who crossed her path. There you are @diokno44x, my best representation of 'Thor: Ragnarok's Hela. Apologies for the late post, many things took up my time. Regardless, I hope this representation is more satisfying and accurate to your expectations. If another Hela piece is requested, I recommend requesting either 'Redeemed' or 'Ragnarok', as 'Redeemed' will hereby the default. The next piece set to release is 'Pepper Stark/Rescue'. And, if you want to read a piece with your favourite Marvel woman, a certain situation, or even both, write it down and I will eventually get to it. I write down every request and load them into a backlog where I then work on them in the order of 'oldest to newest'- essentially, first-come, first-written. Either way, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Best regards, NothingLeft P.S.- I wanted to quickly mention that, as some may have noticed, there has been a request for a 'Bathroom Line' piece, and I have acknowledged it and plan to write it. But, I want to have at least one solo piece for each woman- as all will be in that piece- and wanted to preface; You are fully welcome to request a character's second piece, as the pieces I write for myself will be for then-unrequested characters. I apologize again, but I wish to explore every character's personality, desperation stages and reaction to wetting before writing such a monumental task as all twenty-three characters. Regardless, thank you again for reading this and have a good day, you beautiful lovely.
  14. Thank you. It means so much that you guys enjoy these pieces, and thank you for the words of support. Have a good day!
  15. Black Widow is my personal favourite MCU lady aside from Sif and Wanda, so indeed, I'll do my best to do her justice. Consider it underway!
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