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neil40001

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  1. Upvote
    neil40001 reacted to wetfunandy in Amy's Weekend   
    The sun shown through the windows, lighting up Amy’s bedroom and slowly stirring her awake, still quite groggy from the night before. It was Saturday morning and she and her girlfriends really partied it up Friday night.
    “What did I do last night?” she thought as she turned her head to see what time it was. Laying in bed, her head pounding, she tried to piece together the events of last night.
    “I remember going out and having dinner, then hitting the clubs afterwards. But somewhere along the way everything gets a bit fuzzy. Did I really have that much to drink?”
    After a few moments of laying in bed, Amy noticed something odd. She realized that she had gone to bed in just her bra and her tight skinny jeans that she wore last night. But that wasn’t the odd part, her jeans felt wet.
    “I must have gotten so drunk that I passed out after taking my shirt off and wet my bed!”
    Too shocked to look, she just lay there and slowly moved her right hand down to her crotch to confirm her fears. Sure enough the crotch of her jeans felt wet.
    “27 year olds should not be wetting their bed! But I guess I was really drunk and didn’t wake up. Well, I better just get up and get myself and the bed cleaned up.”
    She pulled her blankets back, sat up and shuffled into the bathroom to take a quick shower. She reached to unbutton her jeans, but was stopped by what she thought was her belt. Looking down at her waist she couldn’t believe it. What she thought was a belt, was actually a small chain strung through her jeans like a belt and fastened with a small padlock.
    “Oh my God! What the hell is this?”
    Frantically she tried pulling it off but it was no use, she was stuck.
    Immediately she thought maybe one of her friends had something to do with it, possibly a prank or a drunken dare. Either way, she had to get it off, she was getting pretty desperate for her morning pee. In a panic she called her friends, but their memories were also a bit fuzzy, and she didn’t really want to get into much detail about her embarrassing predicament. After some conversation and trying to remember what happened, one of her friends did mention that she did remember Amy getting a ride home with someone else that she hooked up with at one of the clubs.
    “Oh crap!” She thought, “What if this person, whom I don’t know, or even how to contact has the key to this lock!?”
    Amy panicked, and began rummaging through her apartment trying to find any key that might work, but found nothing.
    “Maybe I can pick the lock with something!”
    She found a paperclip and began working it inside the lock. Her need to pee was getting worse, enough that she couldn’t stand still while trying to pick the lock open. Suddenly she felt a small spurt escape into her still damp panties and jeans. Amy gasped and grabbed her crotch.
    “This can’t be happening.” Closing her eyes, hoping maybe this was all a nightmare and things will be back to normal when she opens them. But opening her eyes, nothing changed, she still needed to pee very badly and she was still locked in her jeans. Slowly, she walked into her bathroom, looked at the toilet and resigned herself to her fate. With her jeans still on, she slowly sat down on the toilet, relaxed and released all of her pee into her jeans. Closing her eyes she could feel her crotch and ass becoming warm and wet. She felt a wave of relief as she just let everything out. Opening her eyes she looked down, her crotch was soaked and she could feel the wetness had soaked up her ass as well. As she stood up she felt some of it also soak down the inside of her thighs.
    “Oh God what do I do?”
    Thinking for a moment, she then removed her bra, stepped into the shower, and turned on the hot water. She slowly stepped under the spray and felt her jeans becoming completely soaked, the hot water felt nice as it flowed over her and soaking into her jeans, she felt relaxed. Staying in the shower for quite some time, she ended up washing her hair and upper body. She then also used soap to scrub her jeans and wash them out as best as she could.
    After turning the water off, she dried herself as best as she could with a towel, then had an idea. Getting out her hair dryer, she began using that to try and dry her jeans. It was taking longer than expected, but she got them to be just damp.
    “They’ll eventually dry out,” she thought. Going back into her bedroom, she threw on a t-shirt and some flip-flops, then went to the kitchen to make some coffee and figure out how to get out of this mess.
    While drinking her coffee she began to search around her apartment for any clues as to what happened and who she went home with last night. After several hours of searching she eventually found her purse under her bed. Quickly she dumped it out, hoping to find even just a phone number she can call. Nothing appeared to be stolen, but all she found was receipts from her dinner and bar tabs.
    “Wow, I guess we did drink a lot!” She kind of laughed looking at all the bar receipts. Then she found another receipt.
    “Taco Bell?! Oh God I never go there! I am never drinking again!”
    Feeling defeated she slumped down onto her bed in resentment, then felt her wet sheets.
    “Oh yeah, I guess I have laundry to do.”
    With nothing better to do than pass the time, she stripped her bed of the wet sheets and began a load of laundry. Next to her dryer, she noticed that she had a load of clean clothes that needed to be folded and put away, picking up the basket she walked into her bedroom and began folding.
    With a stack of folded panties in her hand, she walked to her dresser to put them in her drawer. But when she pulled open her underwear drawer, she noticed a pair of handcuffs. Shocked, she dropped her folded panties on the floor. Picking up the handcuffs, she examined them.
    “Where did these come from? These aren’t mine!”
    While looking at them she noticed that her wrists had faint red marks around them.
    “What kind of kinky shit did I get into last night?!”
    She was about to put them down when she noticed a small folded piece of paper that was underneath them in her underwear drawer. She picked it up and slowing began unfolding it. The piece of paper was a hand written note.
    “Dear Amy,” it began to read. Amy closed her eyes, afraid to read any further.
    “What if this reveals what happened last night? I’m too afraid to find out. But what if this was the person with the key?”
    She opened her eyes and continued reading.
    “Dear Amy, wow, what a time we had last night! You are one wild woman! I’m sorry I wasn’t there in the morning to say goodbye, but I had an early flight. As you requested, I locked you in your jeans and took the key with me until I return on Sunday evening. I can’t wait to see you and have some more “fun”! J.”
    Amy was shocked.
    “Wait, I requested to be locked in my pants?! And the only clue I have to who this might be is their first initial of their first name?! What am I supposed to do until Sunday evening?”
    Amy sat for a few minutes, trying to take all of this in. She took another sip of coffee, then felt her stomach twinge.
    “Oh God! The Taco Bell! I must get these jeans off!”
    Amy went to her closet and grabbed her toolbox, looking for anything that might help. Finding a pliers she hoped maybe she could bend one of the loops in the chain. But looking at it realized that the links were all sealed loops. Then she saw a wire cutters. She tried cutting the lock first, but it wasn’t going to happen. Then she tried the chain with the same result. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she felt her stomach twinge again and released a small fart.
    “This can’t be happening!”
    Amy took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. Looking at her watch she noticed that it was about noon, but she was to afraid to eat or drink anything. Feeling defeated, she grabbed a blanket and went to curl up on her couch to binge out on some Netflix to pass the time. She decided on an marathon of Mad Men. After a few episodes, Amy drifted off to sleep.
    She woke several hours later feeling bloated with a stomach ache and needing to pee again. She got up and walked to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and just peed through her jeans again. She sat for a moment and felt some pressure in her stomach return. She pushed out some gas to relieve some pressure, careful not to push too hard.
    Feeling hungry, Amy went into the kitchen to grab a small snack and some water, then grabbed an old blanket and went back to the couch. She laid the old blanket out to sit on so as not to get pee on her seat cushions, wrapped back up in her other blanket and sat down to continue watching Mad Men.
    Half way through the next episode, Amy felt a sharp cramp in her stomach. It made her wince and bend forward at the waste. She fought through it and as it subsided she began to realize what was inevitably going to happen.
    With tears in her eyes she thought, “Why would I request to be locked in my pants for a whole weekend?”
    Laying down on her side and resting her head on a pillow, she made herself comfortable. It wasn’t long before the next cramp hit. This time though, she didn’t resist, Amy just closed her eyes and let nature take its course. She felt her stomach convulse and involuntarily began pushing. She cringed as the first bit of poop exited her ass and pushed against her panties. Another cramp and she pushed again. More came out and this time she felt the mess spread out in her panties. She took a breath, felt another cramp and pushed again, this time more forcefully, trying to push her entire mess out and get it over with. She could feel this last wave spread up her ass and forward in her panties. When she was done, she just laid there, watching Mad Men until she drifted off to sleep again.
    Exhausted from the events of Saturday, Amy slept right up until Sunday morning. She woke feeling refreshed but really needed to pee. Shifting herself to sit up she felt the mess smoosh around in her pants, and the events of Saturday came back to her. Carefully, she stood up and walked over to her toilet. As she slowly sat down, she could feel her jeans stretch tighter across her ass and squish her mess further up and forward, this time pushing past the leg bands of her panties and out into her jeans. Amy relaxed and emptied her bladder into her messy panties and jeans. She could feel her warm pee mixing with her poop, making it softer and feeling it squish around in her pants further. When she finished peeing, Amy sat for a while, looking at her shower, wishing she could just jump in and rinse off.
    Realizing there is nothing more she can do until J. comes back in the evening, she stood up and went into her kitchen. After not eating all day yesterday, Amy was starving. She made herself some coffee along with a big plate of eggs, bacon, and orange juice.
    After breakfast, she continued with her laundry that she had started yesterday, trying to keep busy in anticipation of finally being able to remove her wet and messy jeans later in the day. She just wish she knew who J. was.
    It was now almost lunch time, and Amy was actually getting used to the feeling of her messy pants, to the point where she really didn’t mind them at all. She needed to pee again, but this time she wanted to try something different. Instead of sitting on her toilet, she stepped into her shower. Amy relaxed and let her pee flow. It again mixed with her mess, softening it up even more, but because she was standing, she now felt the warmth soaking down and around her legs, almost like when she showered yesterday. Closing her eyes she moaned as the warmth soaked down her legs. She jolted herself back to reality when she realized her right hand was slowly rubbing over her wet crotch.
    “Oh God! I think I may be enjoying this a little too much!”
    Amy immediately stopped. She decided to go back to watch Netflix to pass the time until J. arrives. The blankets were still on her couch so she just sat down. Sitting down put pressure on her mess and caused it spread out a lot more than she expected. Spreading forward, down her legs, and up her back. Again she felt that little twinge of pleasure in her vagina.
    “What the hell is going on in my mind?!”
    Amy tries to forget about it and continues watching Mad Men. Sitting on her couch, every time she shifts herself a little bit she can feel her mess move around in her pants, and again it was beginning to turn her on. She tries to think about something else, but it’s getting more difficult to forget about. Out of curiosity, Amy slowly moves her right hand to her crotch. She pushes her finger onto her jeans and feels her mess squish around as she begins to rub her pussy. The harder she rubs, the messier her pants gets, and the more she gets turned on. Amy begins moaning out loud in pleasure. It doesn’t take her long before she brings herself to an amazing orgasm, coincidently during the same scene when Freddy Rumsen wets his pants.
    Amy finally calms down, a slight smile on her face as she thinks, “This weekend really was all that bad.” She lays down and drifts off to sleep.
    “KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!”
    Amy is startled away by a knock at her door!
    “Oh God, is it J.?”
    Amy gets up from the couch, her mess shifting in her pants with every step as she walks to the door. Before unlocking it she peers through her peephole. The person outside her door is facing away, so Amy can’t see their face. But she is shocked to notice that it is a woman. Confused, she pulls back.
    “Amy, please open the door, I really need to come in!”
    Slowly, Amy undoes the lock and opens the door. There, standing in front of her is one of her girlfriends from Friday night, Jenny! Immediately Jenny holds up a small key, “Looking for this?”
    Jenny enters the apartment, and closes the door behind her. She closes her eyes, as if relaxed to be home. Then Amy notices that Jenny’s tight jeans are rapidly soaking from her crotch and running down her legs.
    “Oh God I’ve been holding it all day!”
    Amy watched in shock as Jenny’s pants became absolutely soaked. Then she noticed Jenny’s face went from relaxed to a slight strain. Suddenly she heard a soft crackling noise and realized that Jenny was completely filling her pants as well.
    “Taco Bell always does that to me,” Jenny giggled. “And I see it did the same for you, Amy!”
    Amy blushed, but seeing Jenny like this was getting her turned on again. She stepped closer to Jenny, “Hold on to that key just a bit longer.”
    Amy leaned in and began kissing Jenny. Amy then reached her hands around to Jenny’s ass and began massaging the mess in her jeans, squishing it all over in her pants. Jenny moaned with pleasure and reached for Amy’s mess.
    “No fair Amy, your mess is already squished all over your jeans.”
    “I couldn’t help it, I had my accident last night.”
    Jenny revealed the key again and unlocked Amy’s jeans, “Let’s finish this in the shower. Then we can cuddle and you can tell me all about your weekend of being locked in your jeans.”
  2. Upvote
    neil40001 reacted to blooper in Blooper's Random Stories   
    Princess Valentine

    So this is a bunch of little short stories based around one of the main characters of the Fire Emblem Requiem hack, Lady Valentine. They’re all pretty short, but together they make a decent enough sized story. And all of you who play Fire Emblem stuff should go check out Requiem. It’s easy enough to find, just google it and click on the Serene’s Forest page. The game is fantastic and as one of the few completed hacks I highly recommend it. Plus Val is best lord <3

    First Command

    “Andrei!” Valentine called but her brother had already rushed off towards the battlefield. “Damnit…why is he always so reckless.” she muttered to herself, taking off after her brother. She was still excited, still nervous. A short time ago, her father had finally given her what she wanted: a position of command in the army. Now, there was an attack coming from Bran’s forces on several sides and she was to command this side. It would be her first official command, and she couldn’t mess this up after demanding it for so long. Her brother, the one charging ahead of her, was more of a frontline fighter, and had never wanted the responsibility of a leadership position. She envied him a bit for that, but she couldn’t dial down her excitement about finally being given command. Finally, she arrived at the temporary command center, doubled over and panting. Running in heavy armor took a lot out of someone. Even worse, the attack had been sudden and she realized she needed to make use of a chamber pot, in more than one way. But she couldn’t think about that now. She immediately began shouting orders, forming soldiers into units and getting people into position as the enemy forces approached over the horizon. In the grand scheme of things it was a small skirmish but Val felt right at home, shouting orders and running battle plans through her head, the rush of command filling her.

    The enemy forces quickly approached, and Val and Andrei moved up to the front of their forces in anticipation. Val’s eyes scanned the enemy forces, noting mostly bandits and brigands, easy kills for the Olvan army soldiers. At their head, however, was a knight dressed in heavy armor that would prove troubling for most of their units, save Andrei and his impressive strength combined with his secondary weapon: along with their standard issue swords, Andrei carried a sword designed to pierce heavy armor and Val carried one designed to break lances. Also among the enemy was an archer, a blonde girl who looked like she had no place on the battlefield, and a cleric, a blue haired woman dressed in pure white, solemnly standing near the back of their forces. When they arrived close enough, Val pushed her red hair out of her face, took a deep breath, and shouted “Attack!”

    Andrei needed no encouraging, and charged forward gripping his blade in both hands. Olvan horseman joined his charge, the army’s archers staying back but opening fire on the opposing forces. The heavily armor knights moved forward a bit but stayed relatively back to defend the archers. The enemy bandits charged as well, meeting the army’s assault. Val followed after the cavs, watching the front row of bandits get impaled on lances, Andrei blocking their axe swing with the side of his greatsword, bracing it with his other hand, before stabbing the weapon into the bandit. He quickly withdrew it and engaged the next line, the cavaliers drawing swords from scabbards and engaging as well. Val moved up beside them, her lighter sword flashing out, quick and deadly, stabbing bandits in the limbs and chest while she sidestepped any retaliatory attacks. An arrow narrowly missed her head, its approach having gone unnoticed as she slew a bandit with a quick stab, and she was too engrossed in the battle and shouting orders to nearby Olvan units to notice the slight dampness in her panties where she leaked at such a close miss.

    The enemy forces were quickly driven into disarray between the swordsmen and their supporting archers, and Valentine kept her soldiers pressing forward. She spotted the lone enemy archer who had almost hit her with an arrow and decided to deal with her. Stepping forward, she left a bloody trail of bodies behind her as several men tried to shield the archer, the red haired commander cutting them down in rapid succession as they proved no match for her skills. The blonde archer looked on in horror, slowly retreating backwards, her hands shaking so much she dropped the arrows she was trying to load into her bow, a telltale hissing heralding the cascade of golden urine that flowed down her legs in fear, soaking her tight shorts. Val approached, her sword lashing out and knocking the girl’s bow from her hand, then bringing it back around to the girl’s neck. The archer fell back with a shriek, tears welling in her eyes, and began to plead “I surrender, please don’t hurt me!” There was a crackling sound, likely audible only to Val, and a terrible smell came from the girl. The young blonde crying was too much for Val, and she nodded. “You are a prisoner.” She called for a knight to approach, and in a moment one lumbered up. “Make sure she has no weapons, then take her as a prisoner. I will question her later.” The heavily armored man nodded, reaching down to take the enemy blonde by her arm and lifting her up, leading her away from the fight. Val wrinkled her nose at the smell, turning away from the obvious brown bulge in the archer’s shorts as she was led away. That girl was a disgrace, she had no place on the battlefield acting like that.

    Val turned, seeing Andrei engage the cleric with a look in his eye that clearly showed he found the blue haired woman attractive. Perhaps he planned to take advantage of her as a prisoner, because his attacks were rather unforceful, the cleric desperately blocking with her staff and managing too. She was still driven back, however, and her white robe was quickly stained with golden liquid as she fearfully defended herself. Finally, Andrei brought his sword down with enough force to split her staff in two, and she stumbled back with a whimper, looking up at him with fearful eyes. She started to say something, but first let out an involuntary grunt as she fearfully and helplessly began to relieve herself in her pants, pushing log after log of poo into her blue panties, which were now revealed through her soaked dress. Taking a moment to regain her voice, she protested, “Please, I have information for your commander…don’t kill me.”  Andrei nodded, giving her a grin before picking up the cleric bodily and carrying her off towards the back ranks.

    Rolling her eyes, Val stepped back and assessed the situation. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, although they would wait for Andrei to return before pressing the armor knight’s position. Suddenly, she heard the beat of wings and a wyvern came crashing down from the sky, right into their back lines. Archers scattered everywhere, one torn in half by the dragon’s maw and another impaled on its rider’s lance. Val stood paralyzed with fear for a moment, staring in horror. A dragon rider! Her aunt had told her anyone strong enough to tame a dragon was powerful indeed, and she had no business fighting them. Her legs trembled, and with a whimper she couldn’t help but wet herself, her full bladder soaking her exposed legs in a waterfall of pee as she stared at the dragon rider decimate her archers, unable to act. The knights turned and tried to deal with him, but he seemed to have little trouble penetrating their armor with a lance from atop dragonback, driving back the knights as well.

    When the pee finally stopped running down her legs, Val pulled herself together with a growl. She couldn’t lose her first battle, especially not to one man! She didn’t care about Josie’s warning against fighting dragon knights. Drawing her lance breaking sword, she charged with a shout. The dracoknight turned, and if he wasn’t wearing a mask his face would have shown recognition and surprise. Instead, all that happened was he hesitated, and Val brought her blade down, shattering his lance and cutting into his arm. The wyvern reared up and Val fell back, the dragon’s action causing chilling fear to fill her once again, and the redhead forced a small, soft lump of poo into her underwear, the trembling returning. The dragon lowered itself and the man had a new lance in hand. Val desperately raised her lancebreaking blade, but the new lance was designed in such a way to counter axes and lancebreaking blades and in return his lance came down and shattered her sword. Val let out a whimper of fear and pushed another soft lump of poo into her panties, then lost complete control, wave after wave of soft mush involuntarily being forced into her underwear, her entire body shaking with fear as she stared up, weaponless, at the dragon rider.

    She refused to give up, however, and she saw her opening. Leaping onto the side of the dragon and drawing her sword, she stabbed out, the new lance the rider had too weighty and unwieldy to block her blow, and her blade pierced his side. He coughed up blood, letting his lance fall to the side. His dragon roared but a hand from him calmed it. “I surrender. “ He managed, slumping over against Val. The redhead called for a cleric, blushing as she realized she was atop a dragon in such a way someone could look up her skirt and see her soiled underwear and quickly jumped down, leaning the man against his wyvern’s neck. A cleric quickly arrived, and she turned her attention to the last remaining forces. Seeing Andrei return, she called, “Finish them off!” the remaining cavaliers and Andrei moved up, driving back the last forces before Andrei drew his secondary sword and made short work of the knight. Val desperately tried to compose herself, no longer trembling. The remains of her first accident had dried now, and the smell of her second one was mixed in with the strong smell of death that filled the battlefield. None of the other women on the battlefield had fared better in that regard either, so she hoped her accident would go unnoticed. If anyone found out…thinking of her reaction to the archer’s accident earlier, Val felt her face go as red as her hair and revised her opinion, walking carefully back towards the temporary command center so as not to spread her mess around worse than it already was.

    Slaying the Son

    Val stood at the head of the makeshift strategy table, looking over the map displayed upon it. It showed the layout of the fortress, and where enemy troop placements were expected. The area itself was immensely foggy, so they had to plan their movements carefully. Communication between units would be next to impossible, and they wouldn’t spot the enemy until the enemy had engaged them. This would be one of their most important fights, the enemy forces lead by Bran’s son Matthias, one of the two remaining leaders of the forces opposing the Olvan army and its allies. Kane, the one of the former Emperor’s sons and if she had it her way, her future husband, stood behind her, a small smile on his face as he watched her deep in thought.

    The redhead was torn out of her thoughts, however, when a voice came from the entrance to the tent. “E-excuse me, can I come in?” Turning, Val didn’t recognize the voice and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, Rose’s Thorn, just in case. “Go ahead.” She replied. The tent flap opened and Thelma, the most recent addition to their army enter. Thelma was a powerfully built woman, on par with Andrei. She was the only remaining heir to the throne of another country, one Bran had destroyed, but she hadn’t been brought up for the role, and felt she wasn’t ready for such a task. When she joined, she hadn’t realized the people she fought alongside was the future king and queen of Olva, and perhaps of even more of the world. Now, she wanted a proper introduction, but nerves were getting the better of her.

    She cursed herself for stuttering as she entered, and she felt like she was barely in control of her muscles as she approached Val and offered her hand to shake. “My name is Thelma. You already know my heritage, but we never were properly introduced, Lady Val.” Thelma couldn’t help it, her gaze strayed to the slight cleavage Val’s uniform dressed exposed, then to the redhead’s long white legs, barely covered by the short skirt of her uniform. She was so pretty… The black haired woman was so nervous and entranced she didn’t even notice the warmth that had already started flowing down her legs as her complete loss of anything resembling control of her muscles took its toll on her full bladder and began soaking her tight grey pants.

    Val couldn’t help but giggle as Thelma lost control in front of her. She was so cute! The redhead shot a questioning glance at Kane, who took a moment to register what she wanted and gave her a resigned nod. Val’s grin grew even wider, and she turned back to the dazed princess. She pressed forward, pushing Thelma up against the wall of then tent, and fiercely brought her lips to the hero’s. Her hands first groped the more muscled woman’s firm breast’s, then moved down lower, one hand reaching into her pants and beginning to rub Thelma through her wet panties as the hero continued to wet herself. The other one pressed against the hero’s stomach expertly, and the woman was in no condition to control anything. Her bowels followed her bladder, and Val’s hand reached around to Thelma’s bottom, groping it as she pleasured the hero through her wet and now messy panties.

    Thelma was completely unprepared for the assault of sensations she suffered. It just started to dawn on her she was wetting herself when the queen forced her against the wall, kissing and groping her. She was immediately filled with ecstasy, unable and unwilling to resist at all. A moment later she groaned as her bowels were forced to evacuate, soft, wet mush pushing its way out and filling her smallclothes, forming a soft casing around the contours of her body as it spread upwards and outwards, escaping from the top and bottom of her panties and beginning to fill her pants with wet mush as well. Thelma couldn’t bring herself to care at all, however, the pleasure coursing through her as Val fingered her as she wet and messed herself was too much. It wasn’t long before she rocked with an orgasm, her dazed body finally collapsing and consciousness fading.

    Valentine lowered Thelma gently to the ground, panting herself. She could feel the clinging wetness in her panties after that show, and she carefully left the hero on the ground and moved over to Kane.

    “Lady Valentine....” the knight said, his voice hesitant. “I am still not sure how I should take that.”

    “Kane, you have nothing to worry about.” Valentine replied. “You have my heart, and more importantly right now, something that other women cannot provide me.” To press her meaning, Val rubbed up against him with a soft whimper.

    Kane smiled slightly, nodding. “I suppose I see your point, my lady. Let me help you with that.”

    The next day, a recovered Thelma stood beside Kane’s horse, which carried both its owner and his beloved. The rest of their forces were moving up with them, and things were going smoothly so far. The rest of the contingent included Andrei, another male hero(Jace) and berserker(Hawke), Kieran, the wyvern knight they had captured so long ago, a pair of orange haired female twins, Claire and Gemma, a mounted healer and pegasus knight respectively, and the cleric from the same earlier battle, Katarina, now the likely future wife of Andrei. Emilia, a brown haired and attractive rebel soldier that had joined forces with them fought as well. Laraya, the queen of another country that joined their forces, distinguished by her long green hair and masterful swordsmanship. Lastly, Ash, Valentine’s younger brother, and Alicia, his own lover, joined them. The pair were mages, Ash a dark magic user and Alicia a more traditional elemental mage.

    They dispatched the enemy forces with practiced ease, eventually making their way into the inner stronghold of the castle. Then everything went wrong. As they approached the throne room, the gallop of hooves was audible on the keep’s floor, and Val and her forces turned to see a squad of paladin’s charging them, their deadly brave lances sparkling in the torchlight. “Everyone, prepare to receive charge, now!!!” Val shouted. There was barely time to react, but her forces moved, forming up. Mid movement, however, eight heroes and four sages became visible in the middle of their formation, and swords, axes, and fireballs lashed out everywhere, the formation crumbling. Even worse, she could hear the doors to the throne room opening, signaling Matthias’s impending arrival. “Kane, take us to head off the paladin’s! Andrei, you’re with us! Claire, Gemma, Katarina, Ash, deal with the sages! The rest of you hold off the heroes! Everything had been going so well, but now it was all falling apart.

    Kane moved like lightning, his horse tearing across the field and intercepting one of the charging paladins, his shining silver axe lashing out and dislodging the man from his horse, a second blow severing his head with ease. Andrei moved to engage a pair of them, his personal weapon, a massive flamberge, set to receive a charge and piercing through one o the men’s horses, and the man’s heart as well. The other slammed his lance into Andrei’s armguard twice, knocking the hero back. Andrei drew a silver sword, his flamberge stuck in the other horse, as the mounted man drew out his own silver weapon. Scrambling to his feet, the prince engaged the mounted knight in a furious clash of silver.

    The last paladin managed to successfully charge his target, and Claire let out a scream of fear as a brave lance slammed into her horse, knocking it asunder, the second blow spearing her out of the air with deadly accuracy. She fell back, bleeding heavily. She looked up at the knight, eyes wide with fear. Pee began to puddle beneath her, soaking her thin robes as she helplessly pissed herself, the warmth little comfort as the man’s lance stabbed out once again. She closed her eyes and desperately threw her hands up, but she knew she was doomed and there was nothing she could do to stop the fearful evacuation of her bowls, soft mush forcefully making its way into her smallclothes and filling them to the brim.

    Val saw the last horseman’s charge and leaped off the back of Kane’s horse, drawing her personal weapon, the Rose’s Thorn. She could do nothing to stop the first pair of impacts, but as the knight reared back for a second blow, she took her sword in both hands and drove it into his back, hard. The man slumped over on his horse, lance falling limply from his hand, dead. Valentine let out a sigh of relief, seeing Claire would survive, at least for the moment.

    The initial assault from the heroes and sages took several members out of commission immediately. A hero slammed his silver axe into Alicia’s side, and the mage stumbled back against the wall, clutching her bleeding side. Her bladder and bowels had already begun emptying themselves, her frail body unable to focus on anything but staying alive, desperately applying a salve as she completely soaked her robes, her black lace panties totally ruined between the eruption of pee and the rapidly expanding mushy bulge exploding from her rear. Ash retaliated in anger, tendrils of dark magic reaching out and grasping the enemy hero. Her face contorted in fear, and her bladder and bowels reacted similar to Alicia’s, her tight pants darkening and bulging out at the back as Ash’s magic squeezed the life out of her.

    Another of the axe wielding heroes was taken out before he could do anything, the berserker eagerly taking to his orders and planting his killer axe directly in the man’s back, not even giving the hero a chance to strike anyone. Thelma reacted similarly, her own silver axe taking another enemy hero’s head clean off with a single swipe, her powerful muscles straining to perform a clean cut.

    Gemma and Katarina were the only ones of the four told to take on the sages that succeeded on their task. Gemma took a lightning bolt to the face, but the magic resistance of the Pegasus mostly negated its sting, and she drove her half moon headed spear into the mage’s chest. Katarina unleashed a powerful hammer of divine magic, efficiently counterspelling the sage’s attempted fireball and neatly squishing the offending man’s head in with the divine hammer.

    Gemma turned her attention to the next mage, who fired off several bolts of lightning. The girl managed to resist the first two, but the third sent a shock fully coursing through her body, and let out a moan of pain as the lighting caused her bladder to release, the flanks of the pegasus staining yellow as pee flowed down both its side form its rider. Its wings still moved, however, and Gemma was propelled forward into the sage, once again piercing them with her lance. This one came prepared, however, and a contingency spell lashed out at Gemma, lighting bonds wrapping around her entire body and electricity coursing through all of her. She let out a piercing scream of pain, slumping against her pegasus as she convulsed, her hands no longer gripping the lance impaled in the sage in front of her and her bowels no longer holding back the flood of diarrhea that flowed from her rear, her panties, leggings, and the side of her mount turning completely brown as pure liquid mess flowed out of her, getting everywhere and causing a horrible mess as she convulsed.

    Katarina cleanly dealt with the first of her two sages, but the second saw her expertise in magic and chose a different route. The woman moved up behind Katarina while she finished off the first sage, drawing a dagger and putting it to Katarina’s neck, grabbing her in a hostage position. “Drop the tome.” She told her.

    Katarina let out a strangled gasp as she was grabbed, and the feeling of cold steel on her neck was too much. Her bladder and bowel controls collapsed at once, and she felt like a child as pee soaked her white dress, once again exposing her panties to the outside world. With a groan several firm logs followed suit, tenting out her panties and straining their limits as she forced more and more hard poo into her smallclothes.

    Suddenly, the steel was gone, knocked aside by the tip of a lance. The sage turned to look, and felt herself scooped up in the claws of a large wyvern. Looking up at its gaping maw in terror, it opened its mouth and roared. She let out a fearful scream and lost control of everything as the wyvern reached down and bit her head off. Katarina felt the shower of pee, soaking the bishop’s own robes and exposing her bra as well, much to her dismay. She looked up in time to see the back of the sage’s robes turn dark brown, then the body be tossed aside by the wyvern. Kieran gave her a nod, pointed towards Claire, and took off again. Pulling herself together, the cleric rose, blushing fiercely at the completely ruined state of her clothes and picking up her tome, drawing a staff from her back and moving to heal the badly injured Claire.

    Laraya spun as the hero’s appeared, and she dealt with one of the axe wielding heroes as well, silver blade slamming again and again into the man until he fell, all her strikes in the blink of an eye. All her speed didn’t help her, however, as a pair of heroes came in from either side, grabbing her and tearing her robe wide open, leaving her green bra and panties exposed. She let out a shriek, but one slammed his blade into her sword arm, rendering it useless. The other grabbed her by the shoulder and lifted her. Her mind completely failed, the proud queen blubbering with fear as she was exposed and disabled before two brutes, her panties immediately soaking in liquid fear as her bladder gave out. Her bowels forcefully pushed soft, watery mess into her panties, and the back of her legs quickly became covered in watery trails of mess, her panties unable to contain the mess and sagging beneath it, the insides of her legs glistening with pee and poo. Thankfully, Jace appeared on one side and Kieran swooped down on the other, sword and spear respectively punching through a hero’s armor and slaying them. Laraya fell to the ground with a whimper, unable to do anything besides cower in fear. None of them had time to be disgusted with the queen, however, as the doors to the throne room opened and Matthias exited.

    Emilia was locked in combat with another pair of heroes, her spear dancing between them as she parried blow after blow. Thelma’s axe crashed into one’s back, and without that one’s support, Emilia easily dispatched the other one with quick spear work. A little to the side, Hawke crushed the last hero to a bloody pulp, his body now covered in sword wounds but seemingly undaunted.

    Matthias advanced into the room, and was immediately met with a charging dragon. Artifact sword still held in one hand, he drew a tomahawk with the other, expertly tossing the axe and slamming it right into Kieran’s lance shoulder, forcing the man to drop his lance and call off his attack. Jace and Hawke leaped at him, but he slapped them both back with ease, working the artifact sword like lightning. Both men collapsed in a heap. Emilia cam at him next, brave spear jabbing out rapidly. She managed to spark a few strikes off his armor, cracks starting to appear in it, before his sword jabbed straight through her chest. She stumbled back, looking helplessly down in the hole in her chest, all control lost in a rush of fear and pain. Her tight leather leggings were soaked with pee, pooling in her metal boot and rising up in her thin metal armor. Her bowels violently emptied themselves, soft mush sagging out the back of her panties and pressing against her tight leggings and armor, spreading out and slowly coating the entirety of her legs. Ash, having treated Alisha, rushed to her side, staff glowing with healing.

    Kane started to charge past Val but the redhead stopped him. “He’s mine!” she growled, and the knight reluctantly backed off. Drawing her brave sword, Val lunged at him, moving even faster than Matthias. His weakened armor gave way, and she cut him again and again, blood flowing from multiple wounds across his body. She narrowly avoided several hits, but Matthias caught her by surprise. He brought his knee up with the force of a hammer, slamming it into her. The sound of cracking ribs heralded the blow, and she stumbled back, bowels violently emptying into her panties. Rude noises were audible as she helplessly pushed everything into her panties in one powerful wave, the garments sagging down immensely as his blow forced the entirety of her bowels out at once, her underclothes barely surviving the experience. She fell back on her bottom with a wet squish, and let out a whimper of fear as his sword tip pressed against her neck. “Surrender, you poor excuse for a queen.” She felt fear overtake her completely, and she stared up at him, trembling, her bladder forcefully emptying itself into her panties and puddling warmly around her, her legs glistening with pee as the puddle grew rapidly. “You disgusting child.” He commented, wrinkling his nose. “Not even potty trained, soiling yourself in an instant.”

    His words were cut off, however, as a thrown axe from Thelma knocked his blade aside. Turning, he saw the hero draw her silver sword and leap at him, both hands on the blade, shouting “You will pay for what you did to my home! Unperturbed, he brought his artifact weapon up in a powerful parry, her blade slamming against it and shattering into bits. Letting go of his sword with one hand, he grabbed Thelma by the neck, raising her up and staring her in the face. “Your country was weak, just as you are. I have no regrets about destroying it, and I will not regret destroying you.” Thelma struggled against his grip, desperately scrabbling at his hand, but it held firm. She began to choke, the strength draining from her body. Her arms went limp, and so did her sphincter. Pee sprayed out of her, soaking her gray leggings and flowing own everywhere, puddling beneath her. Her bowels loudly began to empty, a series of wet farts and sprays of diarrhea completely destroying the back of her pants and spraying brown muck everywhere, her accident very clearly on display for all to see, unlike some of the others. Her pants sagged with wet liquid as she continued to helplessly empty herself. “Just as bad as the other. Are all you queen’s so weak and lacking in control?”

    Val, seeing Thelma’s attempt, slowly gathered herself. Despite her broken ribs, she quietly lifted herself to her feet, drawing Rose’s Thorn and lunging at Matthias. She used the same attack, both hands powering the thrust, as she had done on the paladin, and once again it pierced straight through its target, both Matthias’s armor and tough skin depleted of their resistance. He staggered back, dropping Thelma and clutching the wound, his mighty sword fallen to the ground; the battle was over.


     

     
    Empress

    It was a day of celebration. Val was dressed in fine robes, the same as her mother once more. She felt beautiful, she felt like a queen. It had already been a long day, with a great feast, a lengthy coronation, and she herself had a given a speech to her now officially subjects. Shel lay defeated, Matthias, Bran, and Legato were dead, and the continent was at peace once more. She couldn’t be happier. Her thoughts strayed to the man beside her, the axe wielding paladin who had led so many charges for her. The pair was sitting on a bench in the palace courtyard, enjoying the soft light of the setting sun. Before she could say anything, however, her uncle Rayden interrupted their quiet moment with his entrance.

    She was not particularly happy about this, considering she had consumed copious amounts of food and drink and knew she didn’t have much longer until she lost it all. She would have like to do it with only Kane as company, but apparently she would not get that pleasure. Rising to greet her uncle, she put on a polite smile as he began to speak, on the inside desperately wishing she could hold herself. Most of his talk was dull and boring, but she was shocked out of her barely paying attention state by the mention of empress. “Truly!? You think I should be Empress!? But the last Emperor left such a bad mark on everyone…” As she spoke she realized she was wetting herself. The very thought of being Empress was too much for her bladder. “I know, but the people need a strong leader to rebuild. You are that strong leader Val. At least consider it. I’ll give you some time.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the courtyard once again.

    Val let out a sigh of relief, desperately attempting to stem the flow of pee but to no avail. Soon, her dress was completely soaked, her legs glistening with urine and the grass beneath her freshly watered. Rayden’s eyes hadn’t strayed from her face, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed. She heard a chuckle from behind her, and turned to see a grinning Kane. “That was impressive Val. I’ve never seen you hold so long.” He walked over to her, putting his arm around her. “How are you feeling, after that?”

    Val grinned up at him, but her attempt to speak was interrupted by a noisy fart and a small lump of poo making its way into her panties. Doubling over and clutching her bottom desperately, she wiggled for a moment before speaking. “I feel like I’m about to mess myself. I don’t think I can move. Carry me, please?”

    “Of course, my lady.” He responded, taking Valentine by the back and bottom and lifting her up with ease. She groaned, but the pair made it most of the way towards their quarters before she let out a whimper and lost the fight, soft mess pushing itself into her panties and bulging them out, spreading everywhere thanks to the position of Kane’s hand.

    “I’m sorry my lady, I wasn’t fast enough.” He said, still speaking in his formal, teasing manner.

    Valentine refused to acknowledge his teasing, lost in thought for a moment. Finally, she spoke as he carried her into their room. “Kane, we’re getting married.” She declared. Her tone brooked no argument.

    “Just what I’d expect from an Empress, a command. You’re already fitting the role.” He told her, grinning down. He easily tossed her onto the bed, then sat down beside her. “I will happily comply, my lady. I have just one request: try not to soil your white wedding gown too badly, alright?”

    Val punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could. “Ass!”

  3. Upvote
    neil40001 reacted to Male in Dr Suzuki's Bursting Commute   
    Dr Suzuki Michiko was feeling pretty good. A beautiful young woman of 30, she had already established herself as a respected member of the hospital staff. At home, she had her loving husband, Kenji, who enjoyed frequent sex with her. And, today, she was wearing her favourite skirt at work, a knee length brown leather one, respectable but stylish. With her cardigan, smart flat shoes, and short black hair, she looked very attractive indeed.
    One thing was annoying her, though. She needed to poo, and she just couldn't get the chance to go. When she'd tried to take a toilet break, the toilet was occupied. Now she'd come to the end of her shift, and it was closed for cleaning. Her husband was expecting her back home, so she might as well get down to the station and catch her train. Hopefully the station toilet would be open.
    She walked briskly to the station, feeling quite uncomfortable, but nothing more. The toilet was indeed open, but there was a massive queue. They really needed to have more ladies' toilets. She tapped her foot and looked at the departure board. Her train was leaving in 2 minutes - certainly not enough time to wait and go - and she didn't want to leave her husband waiting by missing it and getting the next one. Oh, well. She was a tough girl. She could wait.
    Her train was delayed a few minutes. She walked back to the toilets and contemplated queuing. The toilets were tempting, but that queue was moving very slowly, and the train wasn't delayed long enough. She clenched her bottom and walked back.
    The train eventually arrived. By the time it did, the platform was packed, and she was squeezed up against many other people on the train. She entered the women's only carriage, hoping to avoid the creeps who took advantage of such unreasonably packed trains. As the train moved off, she held her stomach. She really did have to poo. She thought about how embarrassing it would be to let off a fart around so many other ladies. It was very tempting, though. The pressure on her bottom was quite substantial, and she shifted uncomfortably. Maybe she should have queued for the toilets and got the next train. She was going to be very uncomfortable by the time it reached her station. She was definitely using that toilet, however long the queue was.
    Thinking of the toilet just made the pressure worse. She was really getting tempted to let out a fart to ease it, but she couldn't. She held her bottom with one hand and tried to think of her husband at home and what she was having for dinner tonight. It helped a bit, but her urge to poo was only getting stronger.
    The train stopped. The announcer, obviously tired, informed the passengers:
    "Unfortunately, due to works on the line, we shall be delayed for a short time..."
    If Japanese had strong curse words, Dr Suzuki would have used them. If this delay was too long, she wouldn't be able to avoid farting, and embarrassing herself in front of all the other ladies on the carriage. And what if it wasn't just a fart...she shuddered at the thought of it. She couldn't poo her favourite skirt, in front of all these other women. An accident was simply out of the question. She clenched her muscles and tried to endure it as best she could. She texted her husband.
    "Stuck on the train and bursting to poo! Not a good situation."
    Kenji replied.
    "That must be uncomfortable. Sorry."
    "Yeah, it sure is," she replied.
    "Are you sure you'll make it?" he replied.
    Dr Suzuki blushed. Her own husband was considering the possibility that she'd have an accident. She was a strong, intelligent woman. She couldn't. She just couldn't.
    "Yeah, I'll be OK," she replied.
    Deep down, though, she wasn't sure she would be. At the very least, farting and embarrassing herself was almost certain. She strained as hard as she could to avoid it.
    After far, far too long, the train started moving again. Dr Suzuki sighed in relief, and accidentally let a loud, stinking fart.
    "Oh, I'm so, so sorry," she said, blushing scarlet. "I really need to use the toilet. I'm so sorry..."
    The other ladies looked justifiably disgusted.
    "Hey, aren't you Dr Suzuki?" said one of them, Ueda Kanako. "I saw you recently. You're really cool. Aside from that, I mean."
    Dr Suzuki blushed even deeper. "Yeah..." she said. "I'm so sorry..."
    "You don't need to be," said Kanako. "Accidents happen."
    "I didn't have an accident," said Dr Suzuki. "I'll be OK."
    She strained as hard as possible not to let another fart. She managed, but the stench of the first one was still around. This was total humiliation. But nothing compared to what she was to suffer.
    Eventually, the train came to her station. Dr Suzuki got off the train, and scurried towards the toilets as quickly as possible. At the sight of the sign, another loud fart ripped through her skirt. She felt relieved that at least it wasn't messy. Her favourite skirt was still clean.
    There wasn't a queue for the toilets. But she was dismayed to see why. The toilets were closed for cleaning. She grimaced in pain. She had no choice but to make the long, desperate walk home, and hope against hope she could make it.
    She texted her husband again.
    "Disaster! Toilets closed at station. Going to be a painful walk home..."
    He replied.
    "Are you going to make it home? It's OK if you don't."
    She blushed. It might be OK with him, but it wasn't with her. She was a strong, tough girl, and she wasn't going to poo her favourite skirt. She didn't reply. She put her phone back in the pocket of the skirt she was desperately trying not to poo, and hurried home as quickly as possible.
    The wind blew through her legs as she walked along the streets, and wind erupted from her bottom again. She was so, so lucky she hadn't followed through, but she couldn't take any more chances. Poo was starting to force out of her anus, and she was desperately straining to pull it back. So far, she was succeeding, but she couldn't much longer. By the time she got back to her apartment building, she had a hand pressed against her bottom and was sweating from the exertion. She'd never had to poo this badly in her life. She absolutely yearned for the toilet, but tried not to think about it too much for fear of letting go in anticipation. Why couldn't she have just queued back at the station? She wasn't so tough after all.
    But she was. She was. She'd make it, just. That's what she told herself as she leaned against the elevator wall, trembling in exertion, another fart squeaking out of her bottom. She was only one moment of weakness away from poo dropping into her knickers, and then she knew she'd lose it completely. The elevator finally came to her floor. She staggered out, and towards her door. She'd almost made it...almost...she just had to get her keys...
    She put her hand into her skirt pocket, her skirt she'd barely managed not to poo. She got out her keys...and fumbled them. They dropped on the floor. She knew she couldn't crouch down to get them. She'd poo if she did. She hammered on the door.
    "Kenji! Kenji! I'm home!" she said, panicked.
    Kenji slowly ambled over to the door, and opened it.
    "Hey, babe, I -"
    Dr Suzuki charged past him as soon as the door was open. As she did, she felt a loud, squelching fart erupt in her knickers. She was starting to poo, and she knew it. Poo forced through her anus and filled her knickers until it burst round the edges. By the time she got to the toilet, she just hiked up her skirt and sat down with her knickers on. There was barely even a point taking them off. She was pretty much finished. She slumped forward, feeling the weight of poo in her knickers, and burst into tears.
    Kenji walked through and saw, and smelt, the disaster.
    "Hey, babe," he said. "It's OK. You had a little accident. Whatever."
    "I'm not a child..." said Dr Suzuki. "I'm a professional woman...this is so humiliating..."
    "You're my little girl," said Kenji, stroking her hair. "How about I clean you up?"
    "OK...fine...whatever...I'm a baby..." she said, still sobbing.
    Kenji picked her up and put her across his knees. He pulled up her skirt, and surveyed the carnage. She really had needed to poo. Dr Suzuki felt Kenji's erection sticking into her hard. Did he actually...like this? Maybe this wasn't all bad after all.
    "You did make a mess of yourself, didn't you, babe," he said. "Now, let's get you in the shower and washed up. And let's get me in the shower with you."
    Kenji pulled off Dr Suzuki's shoes, then her socks, then her filthy knickers, then her stained skirt, then her cardigan, shirt, and bra. He then stripped himself, and led her into the shower. He switched on the water, and let it run over their bodies and wash Dr Suzuki's tears and mess away. Then he picked her up again, and this time penetrated her. Dr Suzuki whimpered in pleasure as he thrust, though it didn't take long for him to come. After he did, the withdrew, then pleasured her with his fingers until she came, too.
    As they got out of the shower, Dr Suzuki felt a lot better about the whole affair.
    "So...you like me pooing myself?" she said.
    "Yeah," said Kenji. "You were so weak and vulnerable, and I could be the strong man to you. I love that."
    "Cool," said Dr Suzuki. She wasn't sure if she wanted to try it again, but it was certainly an interesting experience.
  4. Upvote
    neil40001 reacted to Male in Touching Cloth   
    "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
    -Jane Austen
    Wáng Démíng was such a man, and he felt he might get his wish granted. China's gender imbalance meant that it was difficult for many men to find a wife, but not Wáng Démíng. He was strikingly handsome, and the heir to a major corporation. He was also a pervert, which would be a minus to some women and a plus to others. He loved dominating women, tying them up and forcing them to orgasm, making them call him master. But most of all, he loved omorashi. He loved the humiliation of taking a dignified young lady and watching her vainly struggle to maintain her dignity before succumbing to her urges and soiling her knickers at last. It was the ultimate erotic humiliation.
    Unfortunately, while he always kept his sex acts consensual, many young ladies otherwise eager to marry him were put off by his depraved urges. Perhaps, he figured, women raised in a totalitarian state were too used to real oppression to enjoy the sexual version. Perhaps he should look abroad.
    So look abroad he did, and he found Emily Ford, an aspiring young model from Britain. She was an elegant young lady as tall as he was, with her blonde hair in a ponytail. She seemed like the type to marry for money, and being a charming, albeit depraved, rogue would certainly help to seduce her. So they agreed to meet for a date. He would pay all expenses, and she would satisfy him...and hopefully he would satisfy her, too.
    Emily thought she was the luckiest girl alive. A glamorous foreign businessman wanted her, and he was handsome, too. He'd paid for a first class flight from Britain to China, and was going to let her stay in his luxury apartment. She knew there was obviously going to be a sexual price for this, but it wasn't even a price. He'd sent her shirtless pictures, and her legs trembled already. She was basically getting this for free.
    She looked at herself in the mirror. In her shirt, jacket, knee high boots, and little black miniskirt, she looked irresistible. There was just one issue. She hadn't done a poo for days, and she was feeling pretty uncomfortable. She'd tried drinking more water and even taking laxatives to shift it, but it hadn't quite worked yet. As the aeroplane came in to land, she felt it might have finally started to work. She could probably poo now, if she was allowed to leave her seat. But she wouldn't want to leave him waiting once the aeroplane had landed.
    She sleekly walked down the staircase from the aeroplane, her hair blowing in the wind, and her skirt not due to being too short and tight. She felt very lucky in her choice of skirt today - a looser skirt would have been very embarrassing. But nowhere near as embarrassing as what she was going to suffer.
    Wáng Démíng was waiting in the terminal for her.
    "Afternoon, young lady," he said, in impeccable English. "You look stunning." He admired her fabulous bare legs and slender, curved figure.
    Emily felt a pang in her gut. "Yeah, I do," she said, blushing. She needed to go, but she also needed to make a positive impression on him. Dashing off for a poo wasn't the way to do that.
    "I'll take you to my car," said Wáng Démíng.
    Emily followed, her boots clacking on the floor. Wáng Démíng's Porsche was waiting outside. The driver looked at his new girlfriend.
    "Fucking hell, she's hot," he said in Chinese. "How much did you pay for her?"
    "Just the cost of the flight," said Wáng Démíng. "Don't get any ideas."
    "I won't," said the driver, wondering if he'd ever get someone remotely like that.
    Wáng Démíng and Emily got into the back of the Porsche and fastened their seat belts.
    "Traffic's bad today," said the driver in Chinese. "It'll take a while to get back."
    "Traffic's bad today," said Wáng Démíng in English. "It'll take a while to get back."
    Emily felt another pang of distress. She really had to poo. But she obviously wasn't going to admit that.
    "All the more chance to see the scenery, I guess," she said.
    The car left the airport and soon entered the mass of traffic. Emily fidgeted awkwardly in her seat. She should be enjoying this adventure, but all she could think about was how badly she wanted to poo. How badly she needed to poo. She looked around for any places to stop. But she couldn't admit she had to poo. She had to make a good impression. She had to be as dainty as the Asian girls he was used to.
    Wáng Démíng was good at detecting when girls had to go, and he was suspecting it with Emily. He wasn't sure enough to start getting hard, but he was getting little twitches. He watched her sweat and shift in her seat as they made small talk about how nice it was to be there. Perhaps he would have a little fun with her. He wouldn't forcibly stop her from going, but he could...discourage it. Put her off going just a little too long.
    Emily was increasingly struggling not to fart. It would take the pressure off her gut, but she couldn't stink up his car. And what if she followed through? It didn't bear thinking about. She just had to endure it. She rubbed her legs and prayed the journey wouldn't take too much longer.
    But it did take longer, and longer, and longer. And the poo was pressing harder, and harder, and harder. Those laxatives were finally taking effect, hours after they were supposed to. Painful as it was, she wished she could have stayed constipated a little longer. She hadn't needed to poo this badly for as long as she could remember. But she had to stay strong. If she pooed now, this would be over, and she'd be sent back to Britain in disgrace, having disgraced herself. It was so tempting to just poo and let it out. But that simply wasn't an option.
    "How much longer is it?" she asked, obviously anguished.
    "Who knows, in this traffic," said Wáng Démíng. "Maybe another 20 minutes."
    Emily gulped. 20 minutes. 20 minutes of increasing pain and pressure. She could hold it. She had to hold it. There was no choice. Wáng Démíng knew she was bursting, but he wasn't going to mention it yet. He tried to hide his growing erection a little. She didn't seem to have noticed. She was too focused on desperately trying not to poo.
    About 20 minutes later, the car finally entered the parking lot of Wáng Démíng's deluxe apartment building. Emily sighed in relief. If she really, really clenched with all her strength, she might make it to his toilet. Maybe. She tried to get out of the car as gently as possible, to avoid slipping a fart. She tried, but she failed. As she got up, despite her greatest efforts, a loud fart blew out of the back of her skirt.
    "Oh, I'm so, so sorry," she said, blushing deeply. "I have to use the toilet, now."
    That was an understatement. She had to grab her bottom to stop the poo pushing out. It would be so tempting to just let it slip, but she couldn't. She couldn't.
    "Bloody hell, that stinks," said the driver in Chinese. "At least she waited to get out of the car."
    "I always take the stairs up to my apartment," said Wáng Démíng, truthfully. "It's good exercise."
    "What floor do you live on?" said Emily, despairing.
    "The penthouse," said Wáng Démíng.
    "Please," said Emily, "I'm going to poo myself if we don't get up there now. Can we go up in the lift?"
    "OK," said Wáng Démíng. He'd play nice for a while.
    They walked to the lifts, the driver carrying their luggage. Emily squirmed and held her bottom. The poo was starting to force out of her anus, and she was barely pulling it back. She could just about make it. She thought.
    The lift doors opened, and they got in. Emily leaned against the wall and used every ounce of strength she could muster not to poo as it went up. It stopped on a floor partway there. An elderly couple got in, speaking to each other in Chinese. As the lift started to move up again, a surge of pressure pushed at Emily's anus, and she slipped another loud, stinking fart. The elderly couple frowned in disgust.
    "Those disgusting foreign girls," said the woman. "They have no manners."
    Emily couldn't understand them, but she knew they disapproved. Tears came to her eyes. She could not poo. That would be the ultimate failure. She had to be strong. But it was getting harder and harder. The poo was coming out a little further each time before she could pull it back. Soon it was going to pop out into her knickers and she'd start pooing her skirt for real.
    The lift finally came to his floor. She was on the edge of pooing her skirt, and she knew it. She could just barely make it. She staggered out of the lift, holding her bottom and grimacing in pain.
    "Now, let's see..." said Wáng Démíng. "Where are my keys..." He fumbled through his pockets, his cock rock solid from excitement. Emily leaned against the wall and squirmed. Relief was so, so close. But so, so far away. And she had seconds to spare. Wáng Démíng knew he shouldn't play stupid too long, and slowly put his key in the lock and turned it. He entered his apartment, and switched on the lights.
    "Now, young lady, let me introduce you to my apartment," he said.
    "I have to poo, now," said Emily, making a dash inside. Wáng Démíng grabbed her arm.
    "Excuse me," he said. "I have house rules. No boots inside. Take them off."
    "But...but I'm going to poo myself..." said Emily, starting to cry.
    "Take your boots off, and then I'll show you the toilet," said Wáng Démíng.
    "I'll poo if I squat..." she said.
    "Well, it's that or poo your skirt outside," said Wáng Démíng. "You're not coming in here with those boots on."
    Shaking from the exertion, Emily squatted down to remove her boots. As she did, the poo she had barely contained finally dropped into her knickers. With a loud, squelching fart, she started to poo her skirt. Days' worth of poo forced through her fatigued anus and filled her knickers. She finally stopped her futile resistance, and the poo squelched out of her knickers and stained her legs. The stench was incredible. She sobbed like a little girl as she removed her boots, and traipsed, defeated, inside the apartment.
    "Please stay outside," said Wáng Démíng to the driver. "Things are going to get a little personal in here."
    "I'm not staying in here with that smell anyway," said the driver.
    Wáng Démíng took the luggage inside, then removed his shoes and shut the door behind him. He then undid his flies and revealed his huge erection.
    "Now, young lady, let's see under that skirt of yours," he said.
    He pulled up Emily's skirt to see the filthy carnage underneath.
    "Now, how do you feel about sex?" he said. "As you can see, I'm an absolute fucking beast right now. I love it when girls get humiliated."
    "Um...OK..." said Emily, not sure of what to say. "So this didn't ruin our date?"
    "No, it made it," he said. "Come on."
    He let her into the bathroom.
    "Now, are you definitely OK with this?" he said.
    "I guess..." she said.
    He tugged her knickers down and put her in the bidet. The water jet cleaned the filth off her bottom fairly quickly. He turned her over and looked again. Clean as could be. He got the lubricant out of the cupboard, and started rubbing it into her anus.
    "OK, so I'm going no condom here," he said. "This is going to be quick and rough."
    Emily just didn't know what to say. She felt his cock pushing into her bottom, not as rough as she was expecting, but firm. He only took a few thrusts to come and fill her bottom up.
    "Sorry, I have no stamina with things like this," he said. "It's just so sexy. Now, come on, let's get showered."
    Emily was conflicted. It was incredibly lucking she'd pooed her skirt in front of a guy who thought that was sexy, but it was also a little unsettling. It was gross.
    But worse things happen at sea.
     
     
     
     
  5. Upvote
    neil40001 reacted to bswanson in How did your pee fetish start?   
    yeah she loves wetting, we went to the movies the other weekend and at the end you could tell she really needed to pee, but she didn't even both going to the bathroom, right to the car. she said I dont think im gonna make it all the way home, and sure enough on the way home i watched her pants get darker along with a puddle on the car seat. she said ooh that feels so good. i had to go too and could have held it, but seeing that made me go too, my mom said doesn't that feel so good just letting it go in your pants.
  6. Upvote
    neil40001 got a reaction from miss_mimi in Miss Mimi wet her panties   
    Wow is the word. Thanks Mimi - stupendous as always!
  7. Upvote
    neil40001 got a reaction from Missypee in I wet myself on the bus!   
    I remember when our school bus got stuck behind a pretty bad traffic accident. We were there for about 2 hours and this was too long for at least 2 pupils. One very fat girl called Beverly (who was actually a bit of a bully) just couldn't hold on and weed her knickers after a long battle to hold herself. She burst into tears shortly after and I think it fair to say I wasn't the only one who took some pleasure in this. Apparently a nice girl called Sophie also peed her pants but I didn't witness this particular wetting. Ah, fond memories!
  8. Upvote
    neil40001 got a reaction from newromantic in Is Peeing Yourself at the Beach Widely Socially Acceptable?   
    I am convinced that my interest in water sports started after a day on the beach with my family when I was about seven years old. We were there with my mother, aunt and my younger sister. We had been there a couple of hours when my sister suddenly said to me that Auntie Helen had weed herself. I casually looked over and it was obvious that Aunt Helen, who was lying on the sand reading a newspaper, had indeed erm.. watered the sand shall we say. I can still see this in my mind today!
  9. Upvote
    neil40001 got a reaction from newromantic in Is Peeing Yourself at the Beach Widely Socially Acceptable?   
    I am convinced that my interest in water sports started after a day on the beach with my family when I was about seven years old. We were there with my mother, aunt and my younger sister. We had been there a couple of hours when my sister suddenly said to me that Auntie Helen had weed herself. I casually looked over and it was obvious that Aunt Helen, who was lying on the sand reading a newspaper, had indeed erm.. watered the sand shall we say. I can still see this in my mind today!
  10. Upvote
    neil40001 got a reaction from Missypee in I wet myself on the bus!   
    I remember when our school bus got stuck behind a pretty bad traffic accident. We were there for about 2 hours and this was too long for at least 2 pupils. One very fat girl called Beverly (who was actually a bit of a bully) just couldn't hold on and weed her knickers after a long battle to hold herself. She burst into tears shortly after and I think it fair to say I wasn't the only one who took some pleasure in this. Apparently a nice girl called Sophie also peed her pants but I didn't witness this particular wetting. Ah, fond memories!
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