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Foxlover

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  1. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from Fractals in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    Hard agree on fear wetting. 

    Also, videos where a woman will act like she's bursting and then when she pees she takes 7 full seconds to start is annoying lmao

    Also...wetting without desperation is like frosting without cake lol, the most important aspect is missing 😪
     
  2. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit II: The Contest of Containment   
    CHAPTER 1:

    THE CHAMPION RETURNS


    Over the next couple days, Melina busies herself with preparations to make the trip back to the compound, and beyond to whatever destination the Contest was to be held at. Khamina had wanted to leave as soon as she had accepted (“Yeh already got clothes on yer back, what more d’you need?”) but Melina managed to convince her she needed time to get her affairs in order… after all, if what Master Arwen said was true, the Contest could go on for days, or even weeks. According to Orla, she was to pack light, breathable clothing... an odd ask, considering it was the middle of autumn, but the young alchemist acquiesced; after all, she knew next to nothing about where they were going, so, best to trust whomever had the experience.

    The rest of the alchemists had more or less gone back to their normal tasks, though that didn’t keep them all from stopping what they were doing to gawk at Khamina as she cut down whole trees with but a couple swings of her axe, carrying back a whole stack of firewood on one shoulder. It was a miracle and a half that news of the two orcs in the human town hadn’t reached the castle proper, even with herself and Arwen swearing all the alchemist students to absolute secrecy. It was for this reason that Melina moved quickly, knowing that the sooner she and the orcs were gone, the better.

    Orla kept to the cabin mostly; without the intimate knowledge of her surroundings like she had back at the Kh’raven compound, she felt well and truly blind. This proved quite a disadvantage when it came to trying to share the chamber pot with a greedy Khamina, who’d been all but hogging their one source of relief as the sun rose on the day they were to depart.

    “P-please, Captain…” Orla groaned, pressing a hand hard against her nethers as Khamina cackled, undoing her trousers.

    “What?” Khamina huffed, cupping the pot in one hand as she tugged her trousers down with the other. “We played rock parchment shears just like yeh asked, and yeh lost evey time.” She murmured coolly, bringing the pot underneath her verdant mons. “I even let yeh have best 5 out of 7… nnnhaahh, that hits the spot…” She sighed as she let her piss trickle into the pewter receptacle with a great sigh.

    Orla bit her lip, bouncing gently in her chair as the sound of liquid hitting metal tormented her ears. “B-but how could you have won every time? I can’t see what you’re throwing, s-so, so you could’ve been cheating!”

    Khamina had closed her eyes, savoring her relief. “Or, yer just terrible at the game, milkweed…” She sniggered. “Now pipe down, mama’s tryna concentrate…”

    The stream grew louder, and Orla’s bouncing grew more erratic as her bladder throbbed in response to the maddening sound. “W-well at least leave me some room, I still haven’t gone since we-”

    Just then, the door swung open, and in strode Melina, casting the pair a glance as she set a wicker basket down on her desk. She’d since gotten used to walking in on Khamina relieving herself...though she’d made them promise to limit their relief to just a few spurts at time, she still found herself having to take the pot to be emptied multiple times a day to keep up with the orcish output. She never saw Orla doing it, though, but she just figured the meeker orc was more sensitive to social grace than her crass contemporary.

    “Oi, remember to pinch it off, Khamina, I’m not going to be able to empty it till later today…Khamina?”

    But the Captain wasn’t listening, her eyes shut in bliss as she drained herself into the quickly filling pot. “Nn... sorry, man-cub, but I ain’t been half-way empty since I got here, and I gotta be prepared for when we get home…”

    Melina’s eyes widened as the sound of liquid on liquid began to get higher pitched. “What do you m- stop, stop!” She cried, flailing her arms at the orc to get her to stop before she overflowed the pot. Khamina grunted in annoyance, but she did as she was told, pulling back on her stream right as her pee reached the upper lip of the pot. She stepped back from it, snorting gently as she pulled her trousers back up.

    Melina huffed, staring down at the pot full of acrid orc urine now fermenting her entire cabin. “I told you to stop…” She grumbled, fetching a rag to wipe up the droplets Khamina had spilled.

    “And I told you I didn’t wanna.” Khamina grunted, shrugging. “Be grateful I didn’t make a mess, I could’ve flooded this place if I wanted to.”

    Melina shot her a glare, but she knew better than to argue with the obstinate orc. “Well, at least move it out of the center of the room…” She muttered. “And don’t get any more on my floor.”

    Khamina grumbles something about “humans not telling her what to do”, but she still does as asked, hefting the pot and pulling it out of the way, past a still squirming and obviously bursting Orla who, in all her deferential demurity, was trying not to make a fuss whilst her host was getting the last of her things together.

    Melina tossed her journal into the bulging knapsack on her bed before turning around to take stock of her preparations. She had her cloak laid out neatly on her bed next to a traveling bag containing clothes, shoes and a wide brimmed hat for any excess sun, plus another smaller satchel filled with a few alchemy tomes she thought she might need, plus whatever field equipment she thought she could safely fit in there.
    “...Well…” She murmured. “I...guess that’s everything…just need to grab another inkwell from Master Arwen and we’ll be on our way.” She told the pair as she strode towards the door. However, when she went to open it, she’d find someone already standing there, hand up as if about to knock.

    “...Pris?” Melina murmured, eyes slightly widened with surprise as she saw her erstwhile best friend standing on her stoop. She carefully closed the door behind her, stepping farther out onto the grass. Hazel eyes met blue ones as the two young women stared at each other, having not been in such direct contact in a long while.

    “...Oh, good…” Priscilla murmured, offering a small, awkward smile. “I, er...I wanted to catch you before you left, um…” She dug in the pack she had slung over her shoulder, fishing out her own handworn mortar and pestle.
    “I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, but, I wanted you to take this...y’know, in case yours breaks…”

    Melina looked down at the little tool in the woman’s hands, before looking back up at her. Slowly, she took the mortar, nodding. “Thank you…” She said, her voice even and neat...careful.

    Priscilla nodded as well, eyes still on Melina, though one could tell there was more she wanted to say. “Hey, Mel, listen...I-”

    Just then, the door behind the pair swung open.

    “Nng...M-Melina…” Orla stammered, leaning against the door frame with one leg bent over the over and her fists clenched by her side. “I-I’m sorry, but, is there anywhere else I can pee? I don’t- nn, I don’t think I can wait for the pot to be emptied…”

    Priscilla cleared her throat, and Orla’s eyes widened as she realized there was someone else there. “O-Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t realise- I didn’t know that- please excuse me…” Orla stammered, her cheeks coloring a dark green.

    Melina was quick to jump in. “Er, Pris, this is Orla, she... helped me get back home.” She murmured, choosing her words carefully with Khamina right around the corner. “Orla, this is Priscilla.”

    Orla’s body was still cocked haphazardly, and her thighs still rubbed together as she forced herself to smile and extend her hand. “Oh! Priscilla… Melina told me so much about you when she was staying with us…”

    “You mean when your Chief was holding her captive?” Priscilla reponds, her gaze lingering on the orc woman as she took her hand.

    Orla’s smile falters, and Melina quickly clears her throat. “Pris…” She murmured, a bit of warning in her voice.

    The girl ignored Melina, her gaze still locked on Orla. “Two weeks...two weeks where I didn’t know if my best friend was alive or not, and then two of you just waltz into our home and expect her to leave with you?”

    “Pris.” Melina says, now glaring the chestnut-skinned woman down. “That’s enough. Orla, go on back inside, I’ll be in in a little bit...”

    Orla nodded, still very much wanting to pee but wanting to avoid Priscilla’s scathing words even more. Casting one more apologetic look towards the pair, she ambled back into the cabin to suffer in silence until Melina had returned.

    Melina waited a moment before turning back to Priscilla, her face hard. “...What the hell was that?”

    Priscilla scowled, crossing her arms and averting her gaze. “I just don’t understand why you would willingly go cavorting off with the creatures who kidnapped you… you had to trick them just to get back, now you want to travel with them?”

    Melina crossed her arms. “I told you, things didn’t stay that way. The Kh’raven aren’t evil, they’re just different. And Orla is even more different still...she’s the reason I got home. She’s my friend.”

    “So am I.” Priscilla retorted, now glaring her friend down. “I thought you were dead, Mel… Do you know how it was for me? How I couldn’t sleep, I could hardly eat?”

    Melina pressed the end of her tongue against her cheek, hands on her hips. “So what would you bid me do, then? Not embark on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because you’re afraid?”

    “Of what could happen to you? Yes, I am!” Priscilla huffed back.

    Melina set her jaw. “Still doesn’t give you any right to be unkind to Orla like that. If you’ve got a problem with me, have it with me. Leave her out of it.”

    Priscilla eyes roving over Melina’s face, her lips trembling before she dropped her gaze, swallowing hard.
    “Mel, I was so scared I’d lost you forever...and then you got back, and-and you’d barely even speak to me…now you’re running off, and leaving me again, and I know it’s your life, and I know things change, I just…”

    When she looked up again, her eyes were wet. “...Please be careful..”

    Melina nodded, swaying on the spot before taking a step forward and embracing the girl for the first time since she’d returned. “I will, I promise…”

    Priscilla reciprocated almost immediately, a single tear running down her cheek. “I love you, Mel…” She whispered.

    Despite Melina knowing full well what Priscilla meant, she couldn’t help the thrill that ran up her back at her words. “...Love you too, Pris…” she replied quietly.

    The two stood like that for a moment longer before the door swung open behind them again, this time revealing Khamina.

    “Oi, man-cub. This is touchin’ an’ all, but we gotta get on the road...and fast, Orla’s liable t’ burst any moment now…” She murmured, smirking at the whine of protest from within the cabin.

    Melina swallowed, pulling back from Priscilla, her own eyes a bit misty. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back, I promise…” She murmured, smiling.

    Priscilla sniffled, wiping her eyes, but she smiled too, nodding at her friend before looking up at Khamina. “You look after her…” she told the orc, who only snorted in response.

    “I ain’t finna let her get hurt, cutie. Now, come on, man-cub, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

    ~~

    After a few last minute preparations, including tossing Khamina’s still-warm piss out into the grass and letting Orla finally drain herself into the now empty pot with a guttural sigh- though still only partway, Melina noticed-, the trio was seen off by the rest of the alchemists and Master Arwen. Khamina had insisted on taking Melina’s largest bags (“you’ll just slow us down carryin’ these”) in one hand and her battle-axe in the other, leaving Melina’s hands free for her own pack and a small gladius her Master had given her.

    “Just in case things get dicey.” He’d told her while handing her the shortsword. “Now...Farewell and safe journey, young Melina!” The elderly man called as they started off down the path towards the forest.

    Melina gave her fellow cabin-mates a wave, giving her home one last smile before turning towards the forest.

    Orla, looking extremely relieved now, had elected to hold onto Melina’s arm as they walked, following Khamina’s lead as they entered the leafy undergrowth.

    They walked in relative silence for a short while before Melina turned to Orla. “Oh, er...sorry about Pris, by the way…” She murmured. “She’s normally quite friendly…”
    Orla shook her head, holding up a hand. “There’s no need… she was scared for her best friend, I understand her feelings...She just really cares about you.” She murmured, smiling gently.

    Melina couldn’t help but smile herself, taken in by Orla’s warm optimism. “Yeah, guess I’m lucky...got two lovely lasses looking out for me…”

    Orla giggled, her cheeks coloring somewhat, prompting a groan from Khamina. “Oy, would you two cut it out? All that sweetsap’s gonna make me hurl…” She muttered as she took a swig from her water skin before handing it back to Orla, who took it without a word and did the same.

    Melina took notice of this exchanged, briefly wondering why she wasn’t offered any before taking a moment to look around. It was far different than the last time she’d been down this path; the forest floor was littered with fallen leaves, a sea of gold and vermillion and orange stretching as far as the eye could see. The quiet *shuff, shuff* of their feet through the brush was the most audible sound, stronger than even the errants gusts sweeping through the canopy to carry even more leaves down to their resting places on the mossy ground.

    “I love this time of year…” Orla sighed, still smiling. “The scent of the falling leaves, chilly winds...and our bonfires are so lovely...it’s a shame things’ll be different this year…”

    Melina frowns, looking at the orcess. “Will they? Why?”

    “The place where the contest is held, it’s on an island sacred to orcs.” Orla replied. “Many believe it even has mystical properties. For one, autumn can’t reach it; It’s always warm. That’s why they hold the Contest there...no added cold to work its magic on an orcish bladder and influence the outcome of a match.” She added with a gentle cheekiness.

    Melina blinked, fascinated by such a place. “And...the Contest has always been held there?”

    “For as long as I can remember…” Orla murmured. “Though, that’s not saying much...it’s only happened once before in my lifetime, and I was quite little...I stayed behind with my father while my mother and the rest of the women made their way to the island…”

    Melina frowned. “Your mother? Wait, is it...only women who go?” She asked, her heart giving a little flutter as she imagined an endless tide of desperate orc women.

    Orla nodded. “Always has been. It’s the whole reason for the Endurance Matches, in fact; while the male chiefs of the orc tribes measure their strength in blood and battle...the Contest of Containment is a chance for the women to exhibit a similar strength.” She explained, taking another swig from the skin before handing it back to Khamina, who did the same.

    Melina couldn’t help but think this sounded a bit...exclusionary, but the idea of buxom orcs descending from all over the land to willingly cork up their bladders all in the name of tradition and pride was enough to make her overlook such a detail.

    “So, Khamina…” She called ahead to their guide. “How is Malash?” She asked, a bit of a suggestive grin splitting her features.

    To her surprise, Khamina only snorted. “Who, that spit-fister?” She grumbled. “I thought she was a pain in my ass before she got made a Captain...been muscling in on my scouting parties, claimin’ the Chief wanted her to get more ‘field time at the helm’...She’ll just come trouncin’ in in the middle of my briefs, with that aggravating little grin of hers tellin’ me she’s been assigned as leader of me troupe for the night.” She growled. “And when I try t’ protest, she’ll just flex one of those fuckin’ bulgy biceps n’ tell me I’m more than welcome to wrestle her for it.”

    She paused, her scowl persisting as she slowly, gently bit her lips. “Stupid, uppity little...Gods, I love her…” She breathed.

    Both Melina and Orla shared a knowing grin, stifling chuckles. “So, you two have gotten pretty close, then?” Melina teases.

    Khamina snorts again. “Sorta, I guess...Chief’s a lot more lax about lewd shit since you left, humie, but it’s not like we can drop trou and start fuckin’ right on the pitch…”

    Melina blinked, surprised that that was even a consideration. “How...unfortunate…”

    Khamina shrugs. “Is what it is. Just makes it that much more fun when she comes back from patrol…” She croons lustily.

    Melina only chuckled again, turning back to Orla. “So, that’s happening...anything other significant changes?”

    Orla turned to her, an unreadable expression on her face. “...You’ll see…” she murmured, in classic cryptic Orla fashion.

    Melina felt a strange sense of foreboding from Orla’s words, but she didn’t press the issue… it’s not like she could turn back now, anyways.

    The trio walked for the better part of a half hour, with Khamina striding forth with sureness of foot and Melina doing her best to both keep the Orc captain in sight and not leave Orla behind. They only ever stopped once, for Khamina to refill her giant waterskin, drain half of it down her gullet, and fill it again, only to hand it to Orla. Melina continued to peer between the two, confused as to why they were filling themselves with water despite their earlier fighting over her chamber pot, but she abstained from prying.

    “Oi, you two, step it up.” Khamina barked over her shoulder after nearly fifteen more minutes. “Caravan’s leavin’ at dusk, and it ain’t waitin’ for you two leadfoots, so get a move on!”

    Melina did her best to do as she was asked, grasping Orla’s hand and pulling her along as quickly as she thought was safe.

    The sun made its autumnally abbreviated trip across the sky, and by the time Melina could make out the telltale palisades of the Kh’raven camp, it was already nearing the western horizon, causing the forest to be suffused with the reddish burn of late afternoon. Both Khamina and Orla had finished off the water skins, and both looked a bit more tense and short of step as they reached the large wooden gates.

    It was strange...they’d filled Melina with terror the first time she’d seen them, and now, wreathed by the autumn leaves, there was only wonder and curiosity. Time really *did* have a way of changing perspective.

    Khamina approached the gate, shouting up to the parapet guards in Orcish, just as she’d done the first time Melina had come here.

    One of the guards shouted back a response, and after a beat of silence, the great gates slid open with a groan, opening the path to the rest of the encampment.

    The first thing Melina noticed as they entered is that there were significantly more Orcs than last she’d been here...some tiny ones, running around and chasing eachother, playing and laughing...Children. Melina had never seen orc children before, they were quite cute...but further on, she saw some hulking figures attending to various chores.

    With a gulp, Melina realized these must be the men.

    If the female orcs were tall, the men were downright gargantuan. There wasn’t a single one under 7 feet tall, with broad, bare, green chests smattered with hair so thick they didn’t need clothing up top. Their legs were the size of tree trunks and easily as thick around, bulging with muscles underneath trousers of various animal hides. Their boots were leather, looking to be even sturdier than those the women wore, adorned with buckles and tassels and all manner of almost ironic frippery. Each arm bore muscles as big as Melina’s head, rippling aggressively under veiny green skin as they hoisted whole felled trees about like they were water pails.

    Melina couldn’t help but stare as she passed by the jade behemoths. A couple turned to her, beady little eyes peering at her with an almost savage curiosity, though Melina’s eyes were drawn mostly to the monstrous tusks jutting out of their square jaws, each one as long as a dinner knife and twice as thick. Their hairstyles seemed similar to the women’s, with the most common being a long, running braid connected to a full scalp of hair, or a single pony tail jutting up from an otherwise bald cranium.

    Amongst them, even Khamina looked somewhat puny. They didn’t say anything as the trio passed by, but Melina heard a few deep, throaty mutters in Orcish, followed by booming laughter.

    At the other end of the pitch stood a crowd Melina was more familiar with...it was mostly women, and even from here she recognized a few of them...Ghora, Ognild, Mazog, Kasha, and a host of others.

    Standing apart from them were two more orcs. The one closest to the group, just as regal and lovely as the last time Melina had seen her, was Chief Urza. She was clad in her own trousers, with a ceremonial loincloth draped over it that very nicely hid her...extra endowment. She wore a tunic, with her Chief’s necklace draped over her expansive bosom, a spear in one hand and the other on her hip. Next to her, standing nearly a full head taller, was who Melina assumed had to be her husband.

    He was easily the biggest orc in the camp, clad only in trousers and roughhewn loincloth like his wife. On his left arm was a steel gauntlet connected to a pauldron, in a shape that looked so outlandish it had to have been custom made. Each of his pointy ears was pierced with three gold rings, and there were gold bands round each of his tusks, as well. He looked up as Orla, Khamina and Melina approached, causing Urza and the rest of the assembled orcish women to turn as well.

    Melina felt her knees knock as she met the burly orc-Chief’s gaze, which she quickly averted.

    Khamina strode right up to the two Orcish Monarchs, thumping a hand across her chest. “Chief Agroth…” She murmured. “Chieftess Urza…”

    Agroth snorted, steam billowing from his nostrils as he nodded. His gaze shifted back to Melina, now standing somewhat behind Khamina. “Is this the one?” He muttered in a deep, resonant baritone that Melina could feel in her chest. “Is this the hairless man-cub that bested my wife in her Endurance Match?”

    Urza pursed her lips. “...Yes, my lord…” She murmured gently. Agroth snorted again, breaking away from his wife and stepping over right in front of Melina, towering over her so much he was simply a hulking silhouette against the setting sun, save for his brilliant green eyes. Melina looked up at him, swallowing; for the first time since agreeing to come, Melina felt she may have made a mistake.

    The Chief regarded the young woman curiously, reaching up to scratch a burly shoulder. Suddenly, without warning, the man busted out laughing...a great, booming laugh that echoed through the entire camp. “Hahaha yes! Must be strong, to have outlasted even my fearsome Chieftess!” He cackled, grinning down at Urza...despite his bluster and bravado, there was a genuine affection in his eyes as he gazed upon his wife, in a manner that almost made Melina’s heart melt. “Hmm… Many questions for you, the rest will have, I reckon.” He chuckled, looking down at her. “So puny and yet victorious…’tis quite a sight. You travel with the rest of the womenfolk to the Contest, yes?”
    Melina swallowed again. “Y-yes, my lord…” She squeaked out, trying with all her might to keep herself from trembling.

    Agroth nodded. “You train like them?” He murmured, pointing to the crowd of women. “No woman in compound has made water since early yesterday morning…”

    Melina turned her eyes towards the crowd, as if just now noticing the tension on each woman’s face, not to mention the noticeable bulge each abdomen.

    Melina slowly brought her gaze back to the Chief’s. “W-well, no sir, I...well, I thought-”

    The Chief held up a hand. “No need tell me of woman problems, man-cub.” He interrupted. “Save those for lady- journey, while the men do real work, hahah!” He bellowed, thumping his chest and earning a cheer from the rest of his male compatriots.

    Melina watched as the Chief lumbered over towards them, brandishing his axe to a multitude of cheers.

    The Chief sighed gently, turning to the girl. “Welcome back, young Melina…” She murmured. “I’m glad you’ve decided to join us. I know you must have questions, but you’ll need to save them for the road; we’re behind as it is. Ognild, Ghora!” She called, and Melina recognized the two orcs from the first scouting party approach, each giving her a smirk of recognition as they approached their Chief, though they too appeared to be unable to stand still as their bladders bulged against their trouser waistbands.

    “Take our guests’ belongings to the luggage carriage...the rest of you! Form up, get ready to march!”

    Melina blinked, watching the orc women disperse and head towards the southern gate of the compound. “March? We...wait, we’re gonna *walk*?” She exclaimed incredulously, looking up at Khamina.

    “What’s wrong, man-cub?” Came a familiar voice as Malash sidled up, sneering down at Melina. “Don’t tell me yer afraid of a little manual labor? Yeh held it in till even our Chief pissed herself, and yeh’re worried about a walk? Pathetic.” She huffed, crossing her arms, though her grin didn’t dissipate, and her gaze had a tinge of affection to it, rather than just the cold derision Melina was used to from the woman.

    “Oi.” Khamina huffed, glaring at Malash. “Chief said to form up, get in line.”

    Malash simply raised her lidded gaze towards Khamina. “Oh, m’ sorry, did yeh forget yeh can’t tell me what to do any more?” She teased, a shit-eating grin on her face.

    Khamina’s stony visage held, though Melina could tell she was trying not to smile. “Just get in formation, and I won’t deck the piss outta yeh.”

    Malash merely chuckled. “Promises, promises…” She murmured, before looking back down at Melina. “See yeh at the Caravan, man-cub…” She chuckled, sauntering off...but not before delivering a reverberating *smack* to Khamina’s ass on her way past.

    “...Dammit…” Khamina muttered shakily. “She really knows how to work me…” She muttered, striding after her co-captain-turned-lover.

    Melina watched her go, turning back to Orla. “We’re not...actually walking the whole way, right?”

    Orla giggled. “No, just out the gate to the caravan...it’ll be a few hours’ journey to the boats. Come on, we don’t wanna get left behind!” She called, beckoning to Melina to follow as she skipped off after her sisters-in-arms, able to move freely now that she was back in familiar territory.

    Melina pursed her lips, glancing over her shoulder at the big, burly male orcs now peering at her, kids peeking out from around their legs.

    Swallowing, Melina quickly turned back around, hurrying to catch up with the rest of the woman orcs.

    TO BE CONTINUED...
  3. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit II: The Contest of Containment   
    CHAPTER 2: THE ISLAND

    The shadows grew long as the day continued its transition into evening, with the golden beams of later afternoon melting into the brilliant scarlets of sunset. Melina stuck close to Orla as the troupe of orc women, some 40-odd strong, traipsed through the underbrush. Despite the normal light chatter, laughing and gentle roughhousing, Melina could tell there was a gentle tension in the air; most of the orcs had a stiffer gait than normal, and while she could no longer see their fronts from her position in the back of the formation, she was well aware of the slight but noticeable abdominal protrusions each orc was sporting.

    She knew the orcs were renowned for their strength and fortitude in the face of such pressure, but she’d have thought they’d at least want to relieve themselves before such a journey… and now that she thought about it, memories of Khamina and Orla conspicuously cutting off their own streams back at the Rivenwelle outskirts rose to the front of her mind.

    Before she could voice her thoughts, though, the procession stopped abruptly. Melina scurried out from behind the closest orc, trying to see what the hold up was.

    There, a few yards away, carefully shrouded in tarp and stitched leaf covers, was a group of large, rough-hewn carriages, each much larger than the trade caravans Melina was used to seeing. For one, the wheels each appeared to be made of iron, rather than wood, and the large pewter chains hooking them together were bigger than any Melina had ever laid eyes on. At the front stood two gargantuan, russet-coated horses. They looked incredibly strong, which Melina supposed was necessary for the types of passengers they had, even if she still wondered how two horses would be able to pull an entire camp’s worth of orcs.

    The orc women began to fan out, approaching the carriages, but instead of climbing in, they began loading chests and burlap sacks in before taking up positions beside it. By the time Orla and Melina reached the front, all three carriages were all but filled with food, weapons, and other various traveling supplies. There was enough room for her to fit in, and maybe Orla, but definitely not a full sized orc amazon.

    “Fall in line!” Urza shouted from the head of the caravan. As Melina and Orla loaded their own supplies in, they saw Khamina and Malash walking up and down the length of the procession, corralling the others into neat rows on either side of the carriages and offering short huffs of beration at the lollygaggers.

    “Oy, man-cub…” Khamina called to Melina. “You n’ milkweed are riding up front.” She murmured, jerking a large green thumb towards the frontmost carriage. Confused as to why she and Orla would be the only ones riding, but more than grateful to not have to walk to whatever their next destination was, Melina scurried up to the carriage with Orla in tow. As they clambered in, Melina noticed it was significantly less cluttered than the other two, giving them ample space to sit and move around. She elected to take the seat closest to the window, allowing her a direct look down on the orcs standing at attention. More often than not, the stiff ranks would see a ripple of fidgets from multiple orcs whenever they thought the Captains weren’t looking, and up close, Melina could see the slight but noticeable bulges in each orcish abdomen even more clearly.

    “I don’t understand...” She murmured to Orla. “It looks like...everyone here could use a trip to the privy.”

    Orla chuckled gently, her cloudy gaze turning towards Melina. “They *always* could use a trip to the privy…”

    “You know what I mean.” Melina huffed. “If this journey is as long as you say it is, you’d think they’d empty themselves out beforehand…”

    Orla blinked, her sightless eyes on Melina for a long while.

    Melina frowned, growing somewhat uncomfortable with the clouded gaze. “...What?”

    Orla blinked again before looking sheepish. “Oh, you’re serious…”

    Melina frowned again, confused. “...What?”

    Orla leaned forward, her hands clasped before her. “Orc women never pee the night before they leave for the Contest. It’s considered a vast disgrace to show up empty, and vaster disgrace still to voluntarily pee in front of another orc, *especially* from another tribe.”

    Melina glanced back out to the procession, imagining all the orcs in the mess hall, pounding back stein after stein of ale in a deliberate bid to fill themselves up as much as possible before this journey, half the camp going to bed with full bladders only to wake up and pump themselves even fuller waiting for nightfall.

    Swallowing to bring moisture back to her drying mouth, Melina turned back to Orla. “So...all of the orcs do this?”

    Orla smiled, though Melina could see her legs rubbing gently against one another under her skirts. “All of us.”

    “And they’re just going to hold it until the island?”

    At this, Orla’s gentle smile became a smirk, and she leaned forward somewhat. “They’re going to hold it till they can’t.”

    Melina felt a thrill go up her back, visions of a sea of piss-laden orcs all spurting into the dirt as they tried to keep their mammoth bladders from completely rupturing filling her mind’s eye.

    “Right then…” Came Khamina’s gruff alto from outside. “Yeh all know the drill...stay in the procession. I don’t care if you feel like you’re gonna piss down your leg, you don’t break formation, got it?”

    There was a general murmur of assent, though Melina could see a few orcs shuffle back and forth, dubious expressions on their faces.

    Khamina nodded, turning to face back forward. “Right flank present and accounted for, Chief!” she called as she strode back towards the front.

    “Left too!” Called Malash, coming round the back to rejoin her fellow Captain.

    Melina poked her head out the window in time to see Urza nod, turning towards the shadowy trees. “On, then… we must reach the boats before the moon reaches its zenith. Khamina, Malash, up here with me.”

    The two orcs did as instructed, sidling up to the front of the caravan. Soon as they were out of earshot, Melina heard a few of the orcs beside her grumbling.

    “Hrmph, easy for her to say...I heard she pissed in that man-cub’s pot while she was gone, but she’s making us all hold it in…” one muttered.

    “She’s the Captain. She ain’t got nothin’ t’ prove.” huffed the woman beside her.

    “Hrng, don’t act like yeh ain’t ready to spill a corker in yer loincloth…” the first retorted.

    “Oi! Shut up you too, I have to piss and you’re making it worse!” came a hiss from behind.

    “We *all* have to piss, you idiot.” grumbled another orc a couple rows over. “Now shut it, the sooner we get underway, the sooner we reach those boats…”

    Melina felt herself shivering from the orcs’ words...just how full were they? How much had they drank before getting into this formation? Would they be able to hold the entire hours-long journey to the boats?

    The questions formed quickly in her mind, one after the other, until she was squirming with arousal.

    Orla seemed to notice, only giggling a bit in response. “Told you they were all full.” She teased, grinning. “You’re in for a treat.”

    Melina blushed at Orla’s wheedling, averting her gaze and settling back.
    Just then, there was a forward command from Urza, and the carriages lurched as the horses began pulling them along. The orcs beside them began marching, and the caravan was officially underway.

    For the better part of an hour, there was naught but the sound of the wheels trundling through the brush, the *whoosh* of wind through the brittle leaves, and the heavy footfalls of orc women marching alongside the carriage. Melina had been contemplating her lot...the only human to attend a sacred orc pee-holding competition...it filled her with both delight and dread. What if the other Orcs were even rougher than the Kh’raven? What if Chief Urza couldn’t protect her? A knot began forming in her stomach… she would have to be *very* careful in the coming week...

    Trying to rid herself of the worrisome meditation, Melina’s eyes focused on Orla, who was sitting still, looking quite relaxed...it was clear that she was better off than her sisters-in-arms, having also been allowed a bit of relief where they had not.

    “So…” Melina murmured, pulling the curtains shut to keep out the chill and mute their conversation. “Holding all the way to the island...do all the tribes do this?”

    Orla nodded. “Though the orcs are spread across the world, we all hold a few basic traits in common. The shame of peeing in front of each other is one of them.”

    Melina blinked. “So...they’re all just like the Kh’raven?”

    Orla chuckled. “Oh, no. No, some of them look quite different than us… some smaller, some lager, some with strange and otherworldly features…”

    Melina, her interest now piqued, leaned forward. “Really? Like what?”

    Orla smiled. “Oh, in for a bit of history to pass the time?” She giggled. “Very well…”

    She cleared her throat. “There are eight tribes in total, each controlling a different pocket of the land. The Kh’raven are forest dwellers, as you might imagine, but not all Orcs are. Some make their home on the craggy shores of the Iron Sea, for instance, and others still live in the snow-capped mountains far from here. I’ve even heard of a tribe of Orcs that live in a palace above a waterfall.” She whispered conspiratorially.

    Melina tried to picture the raucous, rambunctious Orcs she knew living in such a sophisticated manner. She couldn’t.

    Licking her lips, Orla continued. “We actually don’t have much contact with the other tribes, but, we all share the same faith and the same precepts, so we all know to go to the Island whenever the Contest happens.”

    Melina nodded. “And so...you all just get together and… hold it?” She murmured. “Like...a festival?”

    Orla tapped her chin. “Well...yes and no. The Contest is an important social event for Orcs...a time for us to interact with others of our kind, build camaraderie, settle grudges and blood debts, etc.” She murmured with an odd nonchalance. “Through it all, every Orc is expected to contain herself, as is expected of our kind, but it's only the Chiefs who compete. It’s set up like a tournament; each day, two Chiefs will compete against one another. The winner of that match will battle the winner of the other match, and so on and so forth till two Chiefs are left standing. The whole island then gathers to watch them battle, and...I’m told the resultant floods are *quite* spectacular…” She finishes with a bit of a breathless coo.

    Melina was feeling a little flush, too, listening to Orla’s explanations. Delicious thoughts of a menagerie of writhing orcs available for her viewing pleasure, the alchemist in her was beside herself thinking about the wealth of knowledge such a gathering would allow her. Orcs from all over had to have knowledge of reagents she’d never even heard of...Arwen was right. This was going to be a most invaluable experience...in multiple senses of the word. It was these thoughts that danced cheekily in her head, even as she leaned against the side of the carriage, slowly closing her eyes...

    ~

    “Hnnnmh…”

    Melina blinked herself awake, rubbing at her eyes as her ear picking up a faint whimper from outside the carriage. Pushing aside the curtains, she peered out into the dim shadowy dusk. A few of the Kh’raven had been given torches to light the path of the procession, and one of said torch-bearers was right outside the carriage window.

    It looked, however, that her flame was flickering, buffeting about in the wind… but upon closer inspection, it was the woman who couldn’t keep straight, rather than her flame.

    “Oi, quit jerkin’ around, you’ll make the flame go out!” The orc next to her hissed.

    “...I-I’m tryin, b-but….gods, I gotta piss *so* fuckin’ bad…”

    “What, this again? I told yeh an hour ago, you’re not the only one keen t’ lift leg, so cut yer whinin!”

    Even as she reprimanded her sister-in-arms, though, Melina could see her hand dart between her own legs, briefly illuminated by the firelight.

    “M-maybe if I just pull my loincloth aside-”

    “Hell no! Yeh ain’t finna get your piss all over us!”

    “B-but I’m busting! I gotta...gotta take the edge off…”
    “You’d better fuckin’ hold it, or I’ll shove me fist straight up yer tainthole!”

    The first orc whimpered in submission, but Melina could see her gait get jerkier and jerkier by the moment… and she wasn’t alone. All up and down the procession, she could see breaks in composure, spider-webbing up and down the lines like cracks appearing in stone. Not surprising, considering how all of them had been going nearly a day without a piss…

    “Sounds like they’re in trouble…” Orla murmured, craning to listen to the grumbles from outside. Melina couldn’t help but notice how closely the orcish alchemist’s legs were pressed together… perhaps she was beginning to once again feel the effects of having not fully emptied her own bladder all those hours ago.

    Just then, there was another grunt.

    “N-no...no no no…” the same orc whimpered.

    “Oh, what is it now?” her line-mate hissed.

    “C-can’t...can’t hold it…”

    “You...you’d better not…”

    “Nnghgg...”

    And come it did. Not even a second later, a short hiss assailed Melina’s ears as the poor orcess spurted into her loincloth. She shivered as pee cascaded down her legs, steam wafting into the cold air. Even so, she continued with the march, refusing to break ranks and jamming  a hand into her sopping womanhood to try and keep the rest at bay.

    “Ar you...are you pissing yourself?” Hissed another orc from beside her.

    The first orc only gulped, shuddering as another squirt forced itself past her fingers and onto the grass with a wet splatter.

    “Oi, stop that!” hissed the orc next to her.

    “I...I can’t!” The first whimpered back. “I can’t...I can’t stop it…”

    The orc shuddered one final time...A louder, longer his filled the air as the orc woman lost the battle with her bladder completely, gushing forth a day’s worth of hot, acrid piss finally broke free of its containment, streaming down her legs and completely saturating both her loincloth and the grass round her feet. A few gasps and huffs of disgust went up from the ranks as the woman voided the contents of her bladder all over the ground they’d eventually have to walk on.

    Melina’s heart beat a little faster in her chest at this first casualty of this whole ordeal, but before she could even process it, another hiss filled the air.

    “D-dammit, look at what you fucking made me do!” The derisive orc from earlier spat as her own loincloth quickly became soaked with her own involuntary squirts of urine. She groaned, gripping at her crotch with all of her considerable strength, but it did nothing to stem the tide.

    Melina’s eyes widened as the dire need for relief spread throughout the ranks like wild fire...a few of the orcs around the initial accident found themselves gripping between their legs with all their might, trying not to become another casualty, while those closest couldn’t help but squirt golden jets into the dirt.

    A moment later, there was a shout from the front of the caravan, and the whole procession stopped as Chief Urza herself stepped out from in front, marching back towards the pod of orcs whose bladders had begun to fail them.

    As she loomed over the other orcs, Melina couldn’t help but remember just how imposing Urza was without her husband next to her to dwarf her.

    The Orcish Chieftain sniffed at the air, wrinkling her nose. “Weakness...that’s what I smell.” She hissed, glaring at the shameful orcs. “Is this the sorry sapsot lot I’m to bring before the other tribes? Is this my legacy as Chief, a bevy of snivelling handmaids with thimbles for bladders? Is it!?”

    The orcs answered with muted mumbles, their heads lowered in deference even as a few orcish legs continued to twist about and against one another. The Chief gave them all one last glare before stalking back up to the front of the caravan.

    The orcs waited until she was gone before rounding on the first orc.

    “Now look, yeh got us all in trouble!”

    “Yer lucky she ain’t punish us, or you’d be gettin’ it good!”

    “Hey, yeh don’t look half bad all soaking like that...wanna kiss when we get to the boats?”

    Melina quickly leaned back inside, shutting the curtains once again and swallowing. Her eyes turned back to Orla, who was gently biting her lip, her legs rubbing against one another.

    “...Orla?” Melina murmured, causing the orcess to blush. “They...Hearing them pee kind of, um…” She murmured, her blush darkening as she rubbed her thighs together even more.

    Melina was beginning to feel the barest sensations of her own bladder filling, though they weren’t nearly dire enough for her to act on them, not with the Chief in the mood she was.

    Luckily for her, the caravan only traveled for another half hour before breaking the tree line onto a secluded beach. Moonlight, clear and bright, shone brilliantly onto the assorted orcs, reflecting off of the gently lapping tides with silvery radiance. A small fleet of carved longships spanned the shore, creaking gently as their back halves bobbed in the waves.

    The Chief turned, looking over at her underlings again. “We sail now for the Isla Orcan. And on my word, the next of you to let out even a drop of piss will be scrubbing the privy for a month when we return.” She hissed before nodding at Khamina and Malash to get the company divvied up into the boats.

    Melina and Orla dismounted the caravan as the orcs began separating themselves into smaller groups and getting on each long ship.

    “Oi, man cub…” Khamina muttered, gazing at Melina. “You’n Orla’ll be with us, Ghora, Ognild and th’ Chief. Center boat, with the fancy boar’s head on it, can’t miss it.” She muttered, before stalking off to assist with the rest of the loading.

    Melina watched the woman’s retreating back before turning to Orla. “Erm...well, shall we?” She murmured.

    The two made their way to the center boat. Orla, being taller, had to help Melina scale the wooden hull, but they managed to get in without much incident. A few moments later, they were joined by the others, including the Chief.

    “Ah, young Melina… hopefully the trip has been a pleasant one thus far? You’ll have to excuse the less-than-appropriate behaviors of my kin...Orcs are strong, but we’re not the most disciplined bunch.” She murmured with a sigh. She nodded over to Malash, who raised a hatchet to cut the rope binding the longship to the beach, and immediately they lurched away from the shore. The sails unfurled, catching the wind and carrying them even more quickly out to see.

    As they sailed, Melina couldn’t help but peer at Urza. The woman was every bit the model of noble countenance Melina had remembered, stock still but with an air of regality that left no question as to who was in charge.

    “So… you’re going to compete? Against these other Chiefs?” Melina asked.

    Urza turned to the girl, nodding. “Tis my right and my duty to represent my tribe in the Contest of Containment. In preparation, I too have denied myself the relief my subordinates so brazenly succumbed to on our journey here…” She huffed in annoyance. “And as you can see...I am maintaining myself in a manner fitting of my station, and my nation.”

    Melina’s eyes dropped to the bulge in the Chief’s own abdomen, easily as large as any she’d seen in the orcs on the way up here, but the Chief didn’t even appear slightly uncomfortable.

    The Chief followed Melina’s gaze, nodding. “After our...encounter, I subjected myself to even more rigorous training to shore up my weakness. More ale, less time between visits to the privy. I’ve spent the better part of the last six months bursting to pee, and on the rare occasion I did let loose, I had to leave the encampment to avoid flooding the privy.”

    She spoke so drily about it, Melina almost forgot about how absolutely titillating the Chief’s words were.

    She swallowed, wrapping her arms round herself. “I...did it...what about your...you know…” She murmured, trying her best to be delicate about her insinuation.

    “My cock?” The Chief asked bluntly, turning back to Melina. “Been on your mind, has it?”

    Her face remained impassive, but Melina swore she could see the barest hint of a smirk on her lips. “After your visit, and following a discussion with my husband, I’ve allowed myself some...further indulgence in that regard. You were right… I had some very willing subjects ready to assist me…” Behind her, both Ghora and Ognild blushed, lowering their heads as they continued paddling. The Chief took a deep breath. “Let me tell you, man cub, there’s nothing quite like a romp in the sheets when you’re aching to piss a quart.” She murmured.

    Now, she was *definitely* smirking.

    After what seemed like hardly any time at all, Malash stood up on the bow, scanning the horizon. “Chief…” She called, turning to Urza and pointing out into the sea. “Land ho!”

    Melina sidled up to the side of the boat, leaning over the side and squinting. She could just make out a dark smudge against the inky navy blue of sky and sea...and the further they went, the larger it got, until it manifested into a massive landmass that appeared overgrown with vegetation, at least from the outside, towering over the orcish ships as they approached. Two large jagged rocks jutted up from either side of a narrow channel leading to a small cove, becoming larger and larger the closer they got. Melina craned her head to look up at them, unable to shake the notion that with their placement, they almost looked like orcish tusks.

    As the boats beached on the foreign shores, Khamina strode up next to the Chief, frowning. “We can’t be the first here…?”

    The Chief held up a hand to silence her, her eyes darting around. “No...Listen…”

    Melina craned her neck, straining to hear anything above the gentle rush of the waves or creaking of the boats...but suddenly, through the white noise, she could just make out a strain of laughter, and an echoing, far off din that sounded as though it were coming from deeper inland.

    The Chief snorted, turning to Khamina. “Make ready to dismount.”

    A few moments later, the whole of the Kh’raven had dropped into the sand with no small amount of groaning as the impact rippled through what bladders were still taut and completely unrelieved, and forcing a spurt or two from those that were unable to withstand the shock.

    The Chief led them single file into the tropical thicket, each squirmy orc following her and doing her best to either not piss, or not piss any more.

    After a few minutes they emerged into the heart of the island, and as Melina came around the Chief’s side, her eyes widened.

    They had emerged at the top of what appeared to be a sprawling ringed crater, with the center looking to be some sort of stadium; slatted seats all curving downward into a pitch filled with sand. Melina figured that's where the matches would take place. Various tents were set up around the stadium, save for one empty section that Melina assumed would be for the Kh’raven, and multiple bonfires dotted the landscape, giving the entire scene a rather vibrant hue. What was more, there appeared to be a river running through the habitable section of the ring, snaking through each tribe’s section of the encampment. Looking down, Melina could see there were stone stairs leading down to the main dirt road into the encampment, which itself fed the solitary bridge over the river, into the stadium, and out again towards the far side of the island, sloping up into what appeared to be the verdant mountains they’d spied from their boats.

    The rest of the present orcs appeared to be looking about in awe themselves, swollen bladders momentarily forgotten.

    Urza leads the orcs down the steps and towards the encampment ring, having sequestered those who’d lost control and pissed to the back of the procession, so as not to embarrass the tribe. As they got closer, Melina could see other orcs moving about, carrying things to and fro or simply lounging by the fire, having a drink. Instead of the jade green she was used to, Melina saw a myriad of colors...ice blue, turquoise, even obsidian black skin on the orcs currently cavorting about the sandy camps.

    “...Wow…” She murmured, peering around. Khamina noticed her wide-eyed expression, smirking. “Try not t’ ogle too much, man-cub, not all o’ these other orcs are as friendly as we are.” She chuckled, giving Melina a toothy grin as she strode past.

    Orla came up next to Melina, her grayed eyes flitting around as she bit her lip. “...This is one of the moments I wish I could see…” She breathed.

    Melina followed Urza farther towards the ring; it was much larger up close than it had been from the top of the stairs, and she could see that each tribe had all but built small warcamps along the banks of the river, consisting of large tents meant for Chiefs, and a surrounding collection of tents for their underlings. Each one appeared to be made of different materials, from stitched leathers and animal skins on sticks, to assorted furs and wools, to even what looked to be silk and satin with gossamer curtains.

    As they reached their camping spot, Melina took the opportunity to fully take in their surroundings. “You weren’t lying…these other orcs *are* different...” Melina murmured as she watched a stark-naked orc with skin the color of coal walk by, her pneumatic frame jiggling gently as she regarded Melina with an air of irritation, causing the young alchemist to quickly avert her gaze.

    Orla elbowed Melina, huffing. “Well? Tell me what you’re seeing!”

    Melina swallowed, clearing her throat sheepishly as she remembered her friend’s handicap. “Right, well, um… This orc lady just walked by, her skin was the color of midnight…”

    “Let me guess…” Orla murmured, a small smirk on her face. “She was quite voluptuous.”

    Melina blushed, but she nodded. “Quite…”

    “Those have to be the Az’kal. Pretty aggressive by nature, but I’ll tell you, you won’t find a finer smith or craftswoman anywhere… It was them that built this stadium, you know, not to mention the bridge and steps...carved this island out into what it is.”

    Melina nodded, her gaze continuing around until her eyes settled on a couple orcs in the camp next to them, both clad in little more than silvery shawls of wolf-skin, with loin cloths and brassieres of similar material. Their skin was icy blue, and their tightly-braided hair a shocking silvery white. They were surrounding what looked to be a centaur… the poor lass was cantering about nervously as the two orcs harassed her. “Those blue orcs you mentioned…” She murmured.

    Orla nodded. “The Uza-lehk. They live the farthest north, in the Snowlands. Guess all that time in isolation dulled their social graces...they can make the most insensitive jokes, especially about eating non-orcs.”

    Given the bared teeth and the exaggerated licking of lips the leering orcs were displaying towards the horsewoman, Melina guessed Orla was probably right. “They’re...they’re bullying her…” She huffed. “That centaur…”

    Orla blinked. “Centaur? ...Oh, she must be a guest of a Chief, like you… Don’t worry, they aren’t *actually* going to eat her, Orc custom forbids harming any guest of a Chieftain.”

    Melina set her jaw, watching the two orcs send the centaur off with a hearty slap on her rear, cackling to themselves. “Still…” She muttered. “Oi, move yer arse or I’m runnin’ it over…” Came a grunt as Malash pushed past the pair, carrying two large sacks of supplies on each shoulder to the Kh’raven campsite.

    “Could stand to be a little nicer, Mally…” Khamina huffed, carrying her own sack. “Don’t mind her… she’s just cranky cause her widdle bwadder is full…” She cooed, smirking at Malash.

    Malash shot Khamina a dirty look, snarling. “Keep talkin’ and I’ll show you how full I am…”

    She paused, reddening as she realized the implications of her words. “Uh, wait, no, I didn’t-”

    But Khamina only smirks, sidling up to Malash and planting a kiss on the flustered orc’s lips before setting her own sack down to continue helping set up the camp.

    Being smaller, Melina and Orla just did their best to stay out of the way as the Kh’raven set up their camp… they passed the time with Orla filling Melina in with more information about the different orc tribes, from the giant, somewhat dim but well meaning Khe’Vath to the studious, slender, white-robed Shi’Mah. She was told the Gor’bahk tribe was the most similar to the Kh’raven, with a high sense of honor and a fair sense of humor, kinder to outsiders than most other races were. Melina blushed somewhat as Orla recounted the saucy history of M’Zurah women, a fair deal of whom were “well-endowed” like the Chief, though they were quite open about it. Orla finished the lesson by telling her to steer clear of the tall, savage Mor’uhk, the only tribe whose Endurance Matches had ever ended in a fatality.
    By the end, Melina’s head was spinning...she had no idea that Orcish kind could have such a diverse breadth of cultures, it was almost too much to take in.

    “Young Melina…”

    Chief Urza’s voice cut through Melina’s musings, the jade-skinned amazon striding up to Melina, bearing her pack as her subjects continued to toil on the camp. Melina couldn’t help but notice a few of them glance her way to make sure the Chief’s back was turned before squeezing themselves between the legs or allowing themselves some spirited rump bouncing as they all fought to maintain their holds on their swollen and ripened bladders.

    Swallowing, the young alchemist pulled her attention back to the Chief, looking up at her.

    “I’m off to meet with the other Chieftesses, but first, I want to show you where you’ll be staying.” She murmured, handing Melina her belongings.

    Melina frowned, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Am I...not staying here with you all?” She asked, uneasiness in her chest as she imagined trying to fend for herself in this encampment of strange orcs.

    Urza shook her head. “Treasured guest as you might be, the Contest of Containment is still a sacred ritual for Orc kind… There are rites and customs we must perform of which you have no place in. As such, you will be staying under the stadium, with the other non-Orcs who’ve accomplished your incredible feat of besting an Orcish Chieftain in combat.”

    She pointed towards the bridge over the river, where Melina could just make out two large wooden doors on the other side, slightly hidden by overgrown vines.

    Melina didn’t know how to feel about separating from the Kh’raven, but she nodded, turning to Orla. “Come on, we can-”

    “Orla will remain here, with the rest of the Kh’raven.” The Chief interrupted, her eyes focused on Melina. “The sanctum under the stadium is for outsiders alone. Come, I will take you to the door…”

    Melina swallowed, glancing at Orla, who offered as reassuring a smile as she could. “Don’t worry, Mel…” She murmured, trying out the nickname for the first time. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the first match…”

    Melina nodded, the orcess’s words calming her anxiety somewhat. She took a deep breath and turned back to Chief Urza. “Let’s go.”

    The pair set off down the road towards the bridge, taking care not to intrude on any other orcs’ camps. Melina had to jog a bit to keep up with Urza’s stride, but even from here she could see the sizable bulge in both the Chief’s abdomen and loincloth, cluing Melina in to both her full bladder and the extra endowment she kept hidden away.

    As they came to the door, Urza looked down at Melina, who still looked apprehensive. “Do not fear, young Melina…” She chuckled. “They will not hurt you. I will fetch you in the morning... Oh, and do try to make friends. This *is* a time for community, after all.” She murmured, a barest hint of a smile on her face as she pats Melina’s shoulder before turning and striding briskly away.

    Melina watched her go before turning back to the door. Sweeping an errant hair out of her eyes, she took a deep breath and pushed them open.

    Expecting an empty stone chamber, Melina was quite surprised to see what looked like a spacious common room. There was an assortment of bearskin rugs surrounding a central fire pit, with small wooden benches propped up around it, perfect for warming oneself by the flames. The walls were tacked with various orcish banners from each tribe, and against the very back was a curved bookcase similar to the one Melina had back home. She could even see a number of fine scientific instruments atop it, right next to mounted scimitars and polished ornate meadhorns. From her vantage point she could see four other doors, presumably leading to private chambers.

    What was most surprising, though, was that this common area was already occupied. Two figures were seated near the fire, roasting something delicious smelling over it while chatting idly before turning to her.
    One appeared to be an elf, with tanned skin and hair like wheat. Her vibrant cerulean eyes shone with bubbly affability, and long, slender ears poked out either side of her head, bouncing gently as she nodded along to whatever conversation she was having. She was clad in a simple whie tunic and long, calf-high woven sandals, with a simple wool cloak adorning her shoulders.
    The other was...Melina didn’t even know how to describe her except *beautiful*. A pale perfectly heart-shaped face, with almond-shaped eyes, a button nose, and full, pouty, almost bee-stung lips. She appeared to be dressed in what looked like a noblewoman’s evening gown that hugged her statuesque curves, save for an almost completely bare back and a slit up the side that allowed her to cross one slender leg over the other as she offered Melina a languid smirk, beckoning her further in with a crook of her finger. Melina felt her body move almost against her will, the woman’s smoldering gaze pulling her further inside.

    “Hi there!”

    Melina’s enthralled gaze was broken by the interjection of the elf, waving emphatically. “You must be the fourth Champion! I’m Tihli!” She gushed, bouncing out of her seat and extending her hand to Melina, who took it.

    “Er...Hi… I’m Melina.” She murmured, a small smile on her face; this elven girl’s energy was truly infectious.

    “Melina...what a lovely name.” cooed the other woman in a rich, smooth, accented alto, like foreign wine over stone. “I am called many things… Temptress, she-devil, Mistress...but you seem like a properly non-judgmental young lady, so you may call me ‘Villia’.” She said, extending her own hand. Melina swallowed, noting just how sharp the woman’s obsidian nails were as she carefully took the hand.

    The woman laughed, a throaty chuckle that made Melina’s heart flutter. “Honestly child, I’m not going to bite you… unless you ask nicely, of course.” She flashed her pearly white teeth at Melina, winking and chuckling again at the young alchemist’s reddened features.

    Tihli cocked her head, peering at Melina. “You’re...you look human.” She observed, frowning. “But that can’t be right, a human couldn’t beat an orc in a holding contest, could they? Why, their bladders are so small compared to an orc it might as well-”

    “Now now, Tihli, don’t be so hasty to draw conclusions.” Villa drawled, still smiling at Melina. “Humans are a resourceful bunch, there’s a reason there’s so many of their cities everywhere. Plus, this one’s cute as a button, perhaps she simply charmed her way here.”

    Melina felt her mouth dry a bit as she gazed upon the woman again, and she had to swallow to speak. “I-...what do you mean, ‘them’? Are you- you’re not human?”

    Villia *actually* laughed at that, throwing her head back and shaking her shoulders, causing her plump, generous bosom to bounce in time with her laughter. “Oh no, my dear girl…”

    Melina blinked. “I- but- then what are you?”

    The woman smirked. “Isn’t it obvious?” She murmured, reaching up and poking at the tiny twin horns protruding from under her raven black curls. “I’m a succubus.”

    Noting Melina’s arm, the woman held up a hand. “Now, before you get all stuffy and ready to burn me at the stake or some nonsense, I already promised my Chief I’d be on my best behavior. Besides, I require a… very specific sort of essence to feed on, one which you are certainly not equipped to provide.” She smirked, her gaze flitting for an instant to Melina’s crotch. “Ah, but speaking of ‘equipped’...” She turned to the back of the room, where Melina was startled to see a large looming creature in the shadows. The fact that she hadn’t noticed such an imposing figure was a testament to Villia’s captivating figure.

    Slowly, the figure emerged into the firelight, and Melina instantly recognized her as the centaur from earlier. Now that she was close up, she could see that she was quite pretty...the torso of a young woman around Melina’s age, with soft, freckled features and long, auburn hair that fell gently around her face. Her bottom half was that of a regular mare, with her glossy coat being the same color as her hair.

    She cantered forth shyly, one arm under a perky, sumptuous bosom as she grasped her other one nervously.

    “H-hi…” She whispered almost inaudibly. “I, erm...I’m Suzerane…”

    Villia clucked her tongue. “Stop all that hiding, girl, and come around so young Melina can see what I’m talking about.”

    Suzerane blushes and quickly shakes her head, retreating further into herself. “I-I can’t...it’s embarrassing…” She whines.

    Villia scoffed. “Embarrasing? We’re all here because we managed to hold our bladders while our respective Chiefs were pissing down their legs, I think we’ve moved past ‘embarrasing’.”

    Despite her wheedling, Suzerane seemed resolute in her decision to stay in her little corner.
    Villia huffed, but she looked unwilling to press matters further as she turned back to Melina. “Well, there you have it, our motley crew. A dagger-ear, a hellbitch, and a tasty orc morsel.” She smirked over at Suzerane, who swallowed and shook a little...Melina immediately felt bad for her.

    “A stranger set of folks you’ve never laid eyes on, no?” Villia tittered. “And, in the spirit of new friends…”

    She waved her hand through air, flicking her wrist and causing a crystal bottle to appear in her hand, full of a dark, rich liquid. She flicked her other hand, and four glasses of the same crystal appeared. “It’s sober as a church in here, and trust me, I would know. Come, young Melina...Eat, drink, be merry, as it were.”

    She poured each of them a drink, handing cups off before pouring one for herself. Melina took one, handing it back to Suzerane so she wouldn’t have to come closer. The centaur takes the cup, shooting Melina a timid but grateful smile as the latter takes a seat across from Tihli...Despite the succubus’s imposing presence, Melina was beginning to feel more at ease; none of these women seemed particularly threatening, at the very least. Villia sawed them all off some meat from the roasted animal in the pit, pulling a bit of bread and some fruit out of her own pack to share.

    As they ate, they all began to engage in some small talk, the fire and the liquor beginning to loosen them all up a little.

    “So, erm…” Melina murmured, looking around. “You all outlasted an orc too?”

    Tihli and Villia looked at one another before the latter looked back at Melina. “In a manner of speaking.” She murmured, smirking. “We all found ourselves in situations similar to yours, I’m sure...ran afoul of one of these beautiful behemoths, and the only way out was through one of these odd Endurance Matches. Suffice to say, an orcish bladder is quite a formidable foe...I don’t think I’ve ever had to relieve myself so badly in my considerable years.” She tittered. “But… circumstances as they were, I came out victorious. No need to rehash the gritty details, not on our first night...I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to regale one another with stories as this week progresses...if we haven’t all drowned in orc piss by then.” She added with a wink, taking a sip from her cup.

    The four chatted idly for another hour or so, until the hour grew late enough that Melina, Tihli and Suzerane looked close to dozing off.
    Villia, being beyond the need for sleep, smirked gently. “Ah, I suppose you three should kip off to bed.” She murmured with an almost motherly affection. “Tomorrow I imagine there’ll be more mingling to be done, now that all the tribes are here, but tonight? Rest.”
    The succubus floated up to her own feet, looking over at Melina. “Melina, dear, your chambers are right through there, next to Suzerane…” She murmured, pointing at the second door from the front.

    Melina nodded, getting to her feet. “See you all in the morning…” She murmurs, grabbing her things and heading towards the door.

    It does not lead to a room, as she thought, but a small set of stairs that curve upward into a slatted loft that appears situated right beneath the stadium bleachers. Moonlight streams in through a slotted window, illuminating the spartan accommodations; a simple but spacious bed, a large trunk in which to place one’s belongings, and strangely, a chamber pot. Melina considered using it, but even with all the alcohol, she still hardly felt an urge, and sleep looked vastly more appealing to her than relief.

    Shrugging, she set her things down, slipping out of her traveling clothes and into her nightgown before climbing in bed and settling down. After a day of traveling, the bed was nice, and she already felt herself drifting off…

    In her dreams, Melina found herself in a dark, misty forest.  A strange blue light suffused everything, and all she could see were the shapes of the trees through the fog.

    Suddenly, a figure steps out of the haze...a powerful, female figure, nude save for a wovenroot crown on top of her head. Melina couldn’t see her face, but she appeared to be trying to speak to her...but the more she spoke, the hazier she got...suddenly, the dream exploded into gold, illuminating the figure for a split second. She was green, well muscled, with dark hair descending down past her callipygian ass.

    She was an orc!

    Melina tried to look upon the orc woman’s face, but was suddenly assailed by a burning in her abdomen so intense, she woke with a start. Feeling the pressure crest between her thighs, she leapt out of bed and squatted over the pot just as a torrent of piss burst from her trembling flower, roping into the pot with extreme force. She peed nearly a full minute before she finally dripped dry, breathing heavily… What had just happened? She’d gone from mild need to bursting within moments...and who was that woman? There was something...special about her, Melina could feel it, but with her bladder empty, she felt sleep trying to pull her back into its clutches already.

    Pushing the strange dream out of her mind, Melina climbed back into bed, closing her eyes again, hoping the rest of her sleep would be uneventful...

    TO BE CONTINUED….
  4. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    REUPLOAD (Posted in the wrong forum lol)

    This is the first chapter of a commission for @Zuorsara!
    Lots of setup/scene building here, but hopefully it's still enjoyable heh
    CHAPTER 1: The Expedition

    *BAM BAM BAM*
    Melina Malwick awoke with a start to the sound of a harsh pounding at the door to her quarters. She quickly bolted upright, promptly bonking the back of her head against the low-sitting shelf situated just above her desk with a dull *thud*. She immediately lurched back over, wincing and sucking air through her teeth as pain blossomed from the impact point; a throbbing ache that radiated all throughout her cranium. Biting back a curse and blinking the stars out of her eyes, the young woman sat up more carefully, massaging her head through her honey-blonde curls as she peered down at the yellowed pages of the reagent guide she’d been perusing when she fell asleep.
    -the practical applications of springsprig are a source of debate among most alchemic scholars, though claims have been made of its ability to soothe burns, and some even posit that it can be used to treat werewolf bites if combined with the fungus from aetherwood trees. Furthermore, the-
    The following words were nigh intelligible over the next few lines, the ink looking to have been smudged by a few blotches of some sort of dried stain…she’d been drooling.
    Lovely.
    Sighing, Melina straightened up from under the shelf, still rubbing at her head. She looked towards the wooden slat and the collection of utensils, books and tomes upon it, trying to see if any of them had tumbled over. Everything seemed orderly; not one delicate instrument or decaying, mildewed spine out of place. She winced again as the light reflecting off the many beakers and vials shone into her eyes, exacerbating the throbbing pain in her still tender head. As she scrunched them closed and brought a hand up over her face to block out the glare, the knocking came again, even louder this time.
    “Melina!” an agitated female voice called from the other side of the door. It was Priscilla, fellow alchemic apprentice and Melina’s best friend since childhood.. They’d done nearly everything together before and since coming under Master Arwen’s tutelage, and were considered some of his brightest pupils... even at the relatively young age of 19.
    Another couple loud knocks. “Melina...Are you awake!? We’re leaving soon and Master Arwen says he won’t wait for anyone today! Hurry up!”
    Melina’s blood turned to ice as she realized that she’d woken up late, again...On today of all days.
    “Dammit!” She hissed as she hurriedly pushed back from the desk, glaring towards the door.
    “Nng… I’m coming, Pris, just… tell him I bumped my head, but I’m on my way!” She called, hurriedly smoothing out the wrinkles on the roughspun cotton tunic and trousers she’d accidentally slept in.
    There was a huff from the other side of the door.
    “You’d better be! If you leave me to go by myself with these tosspots, I’ll deck you when I get back!”  The exclamation was followed by a series of angry-sounding footsteps away from the door, accompanied by some intelligible grumbling.
    Melina leapt to her feet, stumbling a little as the feeling began to return to her legs from her strange sleeping position.. She rubbed at her thighs, trying to soothe the sore muscles in it as she quickly glanced around her cramped little quarters. There was little space to move around, as most of it was taken up by the large alchemist’s desk she’d accidentally slept at. It filled a whole wall by itself and jutted a few feet into the room, crowding her bed, nightstand and wardrobe into whatever little extra corners they could fit into in the tiny cabin and giving one an accurate perception of Melina’s priorities. Of course, that desk was certainly earning its keep; every inch of it  was covered in sheets of crumpled parchment, half-rolled scrolls and the odd quill still tracing ink across the hard wooden surface. A stack of quick and messy writings Melina had been cobbling together sat under a spent candle-holder, and she could see the dried splotches of wax on the parchment where the candle had spilled over.
    Blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face, Melina strode over towards the ratty oaken wardrobe shoved unceremoniously between her workstation and the bed, practically squished on either side by the furniture. With a sigh, she pulled open the doors, reaching in to grab a tanned hide vest, a rawhide belt, and her favorite pair of leather boots she wore whenever she conducted any outdoor experiments.
    She hurriedly pulled the vest on over her tunic as she looked around on the ground for a belt, cursing her late start. What a way to be on the morning of her first real alchemic expedition of the season. She’d been looking forward to this day for weeks now; re-reading all the field notes from previous alchemists’ journeys, meticulously poring over all known maps of their designated area cross-referenced with contributions from Man, Elf and faefolk... she’d even got herself a fresh new mortar and pestle from the market a few days ago, untainted by her previous experiments, in preparation for this excursion.
     But, of course when the time came, she had just slept right through the rooster’s crow, slumped over on a book, like always.
    It wasn’t as though she’d not had a good reason…why, she’d been up half the night poring over her old texts, trying to remember the specific functions of each reagent she expected to encounter. In fact, she hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, having told herself she’d read only one chapter before bed…a lie she’d fed herself for hours on end as she “one-more-chapter”ed her way through half the book.
    With another sigh, she quickly dropped to her hands and knees, coughing at the dust she kicked up as she reached under her bed and pulled her old traveling knapsack out. She thanked her lucky stars she’d had the foresight to at least halfway pack it with supplies… it already contained her notebook, her field guide, a couple flint rocks for fire and her whittling knife. She got back to her feet, darting around her room and grabbing random bits of parchment and a quill to stuff haphazardly into the pack, her anxiety at being left behind mounting with every minute. As she stuffed the pack strap between her teeth and threw herself onto the bed to begin pulling on her boots, there was another knock at the door.
    “Melina?” said another voice, though this one was male, belonging to Master Arwen’s eldest apprentice, a young man named Ewand.
    Reddening at having yet another of her colleagues come to enquire about her whereabouts, Melina set her jaw. “I uhweddy told Pwif, Ull be out inna minnuf!” She exclaimed around a mouthful of leather as she wrestled the first boot onto her foot.
    The voice on the other side of the door waited a moment before speaking.
    “…Sorry, Mel, I…just wanted to make sure everything was okay… you’ve been talking about this trip forever, I’d’ve thought you’d be the first one up…” He finished with a chuckle.
    Melina scowled as the blush on her cheeks deepened. She spat out the pack strap, glaring at the door. “I said I’ll be out in a second, leave me alone!” She hissed, a bit more harshly than she meant to.
    Another stretch of silence.
    “Okay, uh…well, we’re meeting over by gateposts…Arwen’s already there, so, better move fast…” The boy said, sounding quite deflated as he turned and left.
    Melina immediately felt a surge of guilt at her snappy response as she continued to struggle with her clothes, huffing gently. She also noticed a twinge in her bladder, urging her to take her morning pee, but she brushed the sensation aside. This was her third tardy in as many weeks; the fact that she was allowed to come along at all was a miracle. She had no time for anything but getting dressed and getting out.
    She tugged on her second boot and quickly stood up, turning to the smudged mirror propped up against the bed as she grabbed a piece of cloth from the dresser. She glanced at her svelte form in the glass as she pulled her wavy, golden locks back into a ponytail behind her. Her bright blue eyes peered anxiously back at her as she worked on tying her hair off, her teeth chewing her bottom lip as she pulled the cloth tight. She scooped up the knapsack and pulled her cloak from its hanging perch next to the door, throwing it over her shoulders before taking one last cursory glance around the room. With a nod, she strode to the door, pulling it open and heading out into the morning light.
     
    The cool, misty morning air greeted Melina as she stepped out of her cabin, the dew on the grassy knoll twinkling in the light of the barely risen sun as it peeked over the roofs of her fellows’ cabins.
    All of Arwen’s apprentices lived in a little collection of huts at the edge of the village, where they could conduct their strange and possibly dangerous experiments without worrying about being a nuisance to the rest of the town. It was odd for a master alchemist to take on more than one protege, let alone a whole class of them... but Arwen was adamant about ‘fostering the next generation curious minds’, as he put it, and Melina was glad of it. His wisdom and knowledge were invaluable to her development in her craft, and he’d also come to be somewhat of a father figure to her after she’d left her small village of Ockley for the capital all those years ago.
    Melina's cabin was the furthest up of the bunch, with a direct path down towards the wooden posts signaling the furthest edge of the town, a little ways away from the thick forest that covered the rest of the horizon. Behind her was a short jaunt up to castle town proper, and beyond it, shrouded by early morning fog, was Lothlowell Castle, home of the royal family of Rivenwelle. Melina had never seen the royal family, save for the occasional processional, and all she knew of them were the stories she’d heard from Master Arwen about how their mandate for expansion into the forest for lumber, stone and spices had brought prosperity to the city…at the expense of some of the forest’s denizens.
     
    Melina squinted down the path, her heart beating anxiously. What if she was too late? What if she’d been left behind? She strode further from the cabin, craning her neck as she came up over the hill...and to her great relief, she could clearly see all of her fellow apprentices clustered around the wooden posts, no doubt receiving a pre-excursion briefing from their Master.
    She felt her shoulders sag, releasing their tension.They hadn’t left yet.
    She took off in a sprint down the slick path, taking care not to slip as she hurried towards the small gathering.
    As she approached, she realized the reason for the delay; she could hear Master Arwen’s thin, reedy voice rambling on in one of his long-winded musings, no doubt on his opinions of some controversial alchemic practice or other. The closer she got, the more of his words she could make out.
     
    “…And of course, one can always conjecture about the morality of harvesting dragon dung, but I believe the temerity involved in such a task would- ah! Melina!”
     
    The group of apprentices turned as Melina raced towards them, moving aside to reveal a tall, slender man clad in his own long tunic and trousers, wrapped in a cloak that was a bit too short for his lanky build. He was bald save for a shock of white hair around his crown, and a pair of equally white bushy eyebrows wiggled above a mismatched pair of eyes; one jade green, one an almost translucent violet. Both of them focused on Melina as she ran up to him, panting heavily from the sprint.
    “Miss Malwick…” He murmured, his thick white mustache twitching comically as he regarded his breathless apprentice. “I do hope you realize this is your third tardy this month?”
    Melina slowed to a stop in front of her fellows, immediately hunching over with her hands on her knees, her chest heaving as she worked to catch her breath.
    “Apologies, Master Arwen…” She gasped. “Up late…studying texts…springsprig...”
    The man snorted gently. “Hmm…trying to appeal to my love of a studious mind, eh, Miss Malwick?” He murmured, waggling a finger at her. “’Tis no excuse for multiple lapses in punctuality, my dear. Why, it’s only by providence you arrived before we left…though I suppose I did get a bit carried away myself…er, did I answer your question, Priscilla, dear?” He asked, his eyes shifting to a young, molasses-skinned woman with curly, dark hair, her considerable hips cocked to the side as she was addressed.
    “Yes, Master Arwen, thank you.” She murmured, her hazel eyes shifting towards Melina with a knowing grin.
    Melina’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she returned it gratefully, mouthing “thank you” to her friend as Master Arwen turned about. “Well now, since we’re all here…” He said, planting his hands on his hips and looking ahead towards the dense treeline. “Best we get started, eh? To the forest!”
    ~~
    Melina fell in next to Priscilla as the group started down the dirt path, the sun climbing higher as they walked.
    “Thanks for that…” She muttered, shouldering her pack. “Were you waiting long?”
    Priscilla smirked. “Long enough. I could tell Arwen was getting ready to shove off, so I…asked a simple question about his views on harvesting reagents from living creatures, and let him take it from there. Figured that ought to buy you at least ten minutes…”
    Melina chuckled. “That all? Looked like he was just warming up when I got there…”
    Priscilla laughed in return, her eyes sparkling. “Guess I should be thanking you, then, huh? But seriously…” her mirthful disposition diminished as she fixed her friend with a concerned glance. “...You know how he is about these expeditions, Mellie. ‘The position of the cosmos determines our luck’, and all that. He really might’ve left without you…And you’re coming up on your 20th winter, you really should be past such things...”
    Melina’s smile faded, and she sighed. “I know, I just…I really was up all night...I wanted to make sure I was as prepared as possible, you know? I spent the whole bloody evening in that Codex of Reagents Moste Currious…”
    At this, Priscilla frowned. “Mel…tell me you didn’t fall asleep at your workstation again…”
    When the blonde only offered a sheepish smile, Priscilla rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Honestly, Mellie, you know how dangerous that is!" She admonished her friend with a disapproving glare. "Just imagine if you’d tipped over your candle, o-or broken one of your vials! We work with extremely volatile materials!” 
    Melina sighed again, adjusting her knapsack. “I know, Pris, I know…” She muttered, but she knew her friend’s words to be true. A good alchemist never worked past the point of exhaustion. Lack of sleep led to slower reflexes and impaired spacial awareness, and one was always only one clumsy move away from knocking over a flask of distilled wyrmsbane or a tin of blanched oakenfrog skin and blowing a hole in the floor. She really should have been more careful...
    As they continued to walk, Melina felt another twinge in her abdomen…a signal from her bladder that it would require her attention soon. She wasn’t surprised…she hadn’t relieved herself since early yesterday evening before sequestering herself to her cabin to pore over her notes…something that made it her late awakening even more unfortunate as it had caused her to completely forgo a visit to the privy before joining her fellow apprentices.
    However, it mattered not. Melina was blessed in many areas; a powerful mind, a steady hand...and a surprisingly large and unequivocally strong bladder. If there was anything Melina was good at, it was holding her waters far longer than one would expect from a girl of her size and age. Nearly a day could pass and she’d hardly feel an urge, whilst her friends availed themselves of the village cisterns more than a few times before she even went once. It was something she prided herself on, in fact, and it was especially helpful during the times when she concocted Erlung Draughts that required near constant supervision for hours on end in a manner that would leave lesser women either abandoning their workstations, or pulling aside their gussets to gush into the dirt below them.
    “...Hey…”
    Melina was jostled out of her introspection by Priscilla’s elbow, the girl peering at her with a frown. “Where’d you go?”
    Melina blinked with a slightly rosy face, shaking her head. “Ah, sorry, just…thinking about today…I still can’t believe Arwen’s actually taking us to the lumencap patch…”
    Priscilla’s expression of concern blossomed back into a wide grin. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I’ve heard that during a full moon, they glow so brightly that it looks like daytime…” She breathed, her eyes misting over.
    Melina’s own smile widened in response. “And they say the pure extract from the tip’ll make you giddy for a few moments, if you harvest it at the right time…of course, that’s if you believe in such things, I myself am more interested in how the shavings from the stem reacts in a Tangellian Tincture...” The young alchemist’s walking speed increased in speed as her excitement rose, forcing her friend to jog a little to catch up.
    “How brightly d’you reckon they’ll be glowing? It’s still early spring so we’ve not got a full day of sun yet...” Melina pressed on. “Master Arwen says just after dawn or dusk’s the best time to see them…we shouldn’t be off by too much, and I brought my own mortar! I can sample the caps-”
    “Oi, ease up, Mellie…” Priscilla chuckled, re-shouldering her own pack. “We’ve gotta get there first…”
    Melina suddenly clammed up, realizing that she’d begun to ramble, just like Arwen. “Ah...sorry…” She chuckled, running her hand through her hair again. In truth, she took after their Master in more ways than she’d care to admit, both in passion for the subject and a willingness to go to great lengths for the sake of an experiment...beyond what the general populace would consider “responsible”. even.
    “Step lively, we’re broaching the treeline!” Master Arwen called from the front of the group. “Remember, stay on the path! Wouldn’t want any of you lot getting lost!”

    The troupe entered the forest, and immediately Melina wrapped her cloak tighter around her as the meager warmth from the morning sun was expunged by the leafy canopy above them. The forest itself was already awake; Melina could see a cluster of thrushes chasing each other around the branches, singing their merry songs without a care in the world. The dewy brush crunched wetly under their feet as they ventured past all manner of oak and spruce, the buzzing of cicadas flitting in and out of their space. They walked for quite some time, venturing further into the forest than Melina had ever gone. It seemed even more alive the deeper they went, with rabbits and foxes and beavers and badgers hopping and racing to and fro.

    As they came to a babbling brook, Arwen suddenly stopped, throwing out his hands to prevent the group from moving forward. He stood there, staring at the opposite bank for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen.
    Melina shifted a bit where she stood, the sound of running water not doing her any favors in her current condition.
    After a few more moments, the reason for the stop became clear as a creature stepped out from behind a stone outcropping. It looked to be a large deer, though its fur was bright silver and looked to be quite valuable. Its antlers looked precious as well...great curved horns of gold that caught the light of the dappled sunbeams and sparkled like a duke’s treasure room.
    The group waited with bated breath as it approached the stream, kneeling its proud head to drink from the passing current.
    Melina could hardly believe it. She’d read of these mythical deer plenty of times before, but never had she gotten to see one in person. It was said a sliver of their horns in any liquid could grant the drinker astoundingly good luck.
    The creature gently lapped up the water before raising its head to regard the group with translucent blue eyes. Melina felt her breath catch in her throat… the creature’s eyes were intelligent, calm… but there was a wisdom there, too, that she hadn’t expected to see.
    The deer watched the troupe of alchemists for a moment longer, holding them in its mesmerizing gaze, before turning and heading off deeper into the forest.
    The party let out a collective breath as the creature left, with Master Arwen taking out his handkerchief and dabbing his shiny bald crown.
    “Goodness…” He breathed. “I hope you’re all writing this down…” He murmured, turning to see his students already shuffling around in their packs for their notebooks.

    The rest of the journey was uneventful, save for Ewand tripping over a root and frightening a burrowing mole and nearly pitching headfirst into a shallow ravine, prompting a quick lecture from Master Arwen about the importance of keen eyesight. They continued on the path, and Melina kept her eyes peeled for any further fantastic creatures to document, though none appeared.
    At last, they broke the treeline into a grassy meadow littered with felled, mossy trees... and each trunk was positively overrun with golden-capped mushrooms. The vibrant fungi seemed to be soaking up the late-morning sun from up above, and each mushroom pulsed in a gentle rhythm as they held the sunlight in their tender little stalks.
    A chorus of gentle “oohs” and “ahs” went up from the troupe as they made their way into the clearing. Already Melina had taken out her mortar and knife, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
    “Yes, yes, gather about, all of you!” Arwen called as he strode up to the nearest rotting log. “This is the densest concentration of lumencap in Rivenwelle! Exceptionally rare, this mushroom...can anyone tell me why?”

    Melina’s hand immediately shot up, causing Arwen to chuckle. “Yes, Miss Malwick?”

    Melina cleared her throat. “Lumencap is a very temperamental fungus that needs very specific conditions to grow. This tree is aetherwood, believed to have been enchanted due to dawnfarer faefolk making their nests in its branches. When the tree dies, the latent magics are believed to continue to propagate within the trunk, bearing a mushroom that can absorb sunlight.”
    Master Arwen’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Quite right, my dear! And why else is it so valuable? Anyone?”
    At this, a tall, redheaded young man with the barest hint of a beard spoke up. “Lumencap is said to react differently according to the species what ingests it. To humans, it’s medicinal...to centaurs, it is said to cause visions...and for others, it can have other effects...even...er...be an aphrodisiac…” He murmured, his pale cheeks coloring as a few of the girls in the troupe giggled. Melina rolled her eyes at them, scoffing at their fawning over the young swain.
    Master Arwen nodded. “Correct you are, Ewand. It is by luck that the Crown’s influence has stretched this far; we should be able to harvest without interruption. But I once again advise caution...beyond this grove is the Wildlands, beyond the King's jurisdiction, and well... let’s just say you don’t want to be caught out here after dark.” He murmured ominously, peering around at his assembled students.
    Suddenly, his face brightened. “But enough sordid warnings. Everyone, to a log!” He chirped.

    Melina was already upon a felled tree, knife in hand, sawing away at the glimmering stalk of a mushroom. Her brow was furrowed, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration as her entire world narrowed to the shimmering fungus before her. A few of the other apprentices had done the same, though a few of the girls were still swarming around Ewand as he hunched over his own log.

    Priscilla knelt next to her friend, chuckling. “That didn’t take long…” She murmured, looking over at the little entourage Ewand had accrued.
    Melina rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Honestly, we’re supposed to be out here doing research and collecting samples, not giggling like common chambermaids.” She muttered, finally sawing through the mushroom and dropping it into the mortar before going for another.
    Priscilla smirked. “As if you can really blame them...Ewand’s a lovely lad...tall, strong...kind…” She murmured, causing Melina's countance to sour even more. Priscilla bit her lip, glancing back over at the man as he tried to work whilst simultaneous entertaining his little band of admirers. “What’s not to love?”

    Melina looked up over at Ewand, his broad shoulders flexing as he pushed the log up to get at a root underneath...and her gaze slowly slipped to Priscilla, her delicate chocolate curls gently cascading over her shoulder, her tanned skin gleaming like bronze in the sunlight.
    The young blonde reddened, going back to her sawing. “He’s not my type.” She muttered resolutely.

    ~~

    The rest of the morning passed peacefully, with Master Arwen walking around and observing his apprentices at work, often stopping to comment on a peculiar fungus or a decidedly fragrant underbelly of a log and telling them to make note of it.
    When they broke for a late lunch, Melina reluctantly left her work to scarf down the bit of roast ham and bread Priscilla had brought, taking a swig from her water skin to wash it down. Now that she was distracted, her bladder once again impressed upon her its rapidly increasing fullness, causing her to squeeze her thighs together. She definitely could go for a wee now, and this would probably be the best time to do it...but the designated spot set aside for doing their business was a bit of a trek back the way they’d come. It’d be at least a 10 minute trip altogether, and they only had a few more hours out here; she didn’t know when she’d be able to pass this way again. She resolved to wait until the end of the expedition; she could clean up, take a quick pee, and everything would be fine. Her bladder was more than strong enough to hold it till then.

    By the time the sun had crossed the height of the day, coming closer to kissing the other horizon, Melina had all but filled her pack with the luminescent mushroom, scribbling down all manner of note and observation in her journal. Nearly a third of the pages were filled, and she showed no signs of stopping.
    There was a rustle from behind her, and Priscilla emerged from the brush, looking quite relieved. “Wow...almost left that too late, I was right busting, I was…” She chuckled as she came back to the harvesting spot. “Sure you don’t need to go? It’s been a while since lunch…That’s a long time, even for you...”
    Melina set her jaw, feeling her bladder grumble again within her yet again. “I’m fine.” She said resolutely, continuing to write in her journal.
    Priscilla shrugged. “Suit yourself…” she murmured as her eyes dropped to their respective hoards. She had gathered her fair share of lumencap, but her meager collection paled in comparison to the bulging knapsack next to her friend.
    “Blimey, Mellie…” She chuckled. “Didja take every damn mushroom in the grove?”
    Melina straightened up, wiping a bit of sweat off her brow and tucking her knife away. “Who knows when we’ll get to come back here?” She murmured, looking up. “I have to get enough samples to last me the rest of the season…”
    Priscilla smirked and shook her head, planting her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Mellie, if you weren’t so late all the time, Master Arwen would name you a full-fledged alchemist in a heartbeat, you’re so intense about it…”
    Melina got to her knees, wincing as the day’s worth of pee in her abdomen pressed down on her sphincter. “Ah...er, well, I’ll just have to work that much harder, then. I’ve almost got the rendering of this-”
    “Ten minute warning, lads and lasses!” Master Arwen called, his bald head gleaming in the light of the setting sun. “Finish up what you’re doing!”
    Melina frowned, looking up. Time to leave, already? She looked down at her unfinished drawing, biting her lip. This was the last sketch she needed for her notes..maybe she could hurry up and finish it. But in doing so, she would forfeit a chance to take a wee, and her bladder felt far fuller than she had anticipated, bordering on discomfort. For a few tense moments, she looked between her notebook and the path towards the relief area, biting her lip.
    After a short while, passion and studiousness won out over biology, and Melina simply crossed her legs in the dirt as she knelt back down to finish the drawing.

    Just as she put the final labels on the crown of the rendering, Master Arwen’s voice sounded throughout the clearing again.
    “Alright, that’s time! Pack away your instruments, it’s time to head back!”
    Flushed with success at having finished in the nick of time, Melina smiled to herself as she carefully packed away her journal, knife and a couple more lumencaps.
    As she stood up, she immediately hunched over as gravity pulled on the pee-filled organ within her. “Nngg…” She groaned, bringing a hand up to her abdomen.
    Priscilla looked up in concern as she put away her own tools. “Mellie? Are you alright?”
    Melina winced as a sharp pain gnawed at her abdomen, but after a few moments it subsided to a more manageable level. “Y-yeah, I’m fine…” She grunted. “Just...a bit sore from hunching over all day, is all…” She muttered, straightening up fully as she shouldered her pack.
    The two of them headed over to rejoin the group, with Melina taking smaller, jerkier steps than her friend. By Eoth, she needed a wee. She’d definitely left it a bit late, and now she was paying for it. As Master Arwen began counting to make sure all his students were accounted for, Melina subtly shifted her weight from foot to foot in a manner she hoped was inconspicuous; the dull ache in her abdomen no longer something she could ignore, but she still didn't much like the prospect of everyone noticing her need for the privy...
    “Right then…” The man murmured. “Seems we’ve got the same number of heads we did whence we started, so… back to town! With a will, folks, sunlight’s fading fast!"

    As they started back off into the forest, Melina’s steps continued to be short and awkward despite her attempts to move normally. Her bladder simply would not calm itself, forcing her to alter her gait to accommodate its increasingly uncomfortable fullness. After a few minutes of watching this, Priscilla huffed and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at her friend.
    “Okay, Mellie, what’s going on? You’re waddling around like you’ve got a broom up your arse…”

    Melina swallowed, her cheeks reddening as she realized she’d not been as discreet as she’d hoped. “I told you, it's no-"

    "Melina." Priscilla cut in with a hard stare. "Cut that shite out and tell me what's wrong." She commanded, her gaze expectant and unfaltering. 

    Melina bit her lip, debating within herself, but she knew the jig was up. With a sigh, she turned back to her friend. "O-okay, okay...Erm...So, you know how I woke up late today?”

    Priscilla nodded, her eyes never leaving Melina's face.

    Melina cleared her throat. “Well, like I said, I was studying last night...and I fell asleep at my desk, and then I woke up, and I...I didn’t want to be even more late, so I...I didn’t...go, this morning…” She muttered.

    Priscilla blinked, the levers in her head turning as she connected the pieces of Melina’s story in her head. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “You mean you haven’t had a wee since last night!?” She hissed.

    Melina winced at the word “wee”, but she nodded. “I-It’s normally not a big deal, I...just left it a bit late this time, I suppose…” She muttered, bringing a hand up to her abdomen.
    Priscilla pursed her lips. “Do you want me to ask Arwen to stop? I’m sure he’d-”

    “No.” Melina huffed automatically. “I’m not gonna have them thinking I’m some sort of willy-shinned lass who holds up the party so she can tinkle. I’ll be fine till we get back to town.”

    Priscilla still looked unsure, but she knew better than to argue with Mellie about this. “If you say so…”
    ~~~
    As the sun dipped lower, the forest grew darker, the trees casting looming shadows over the party as they made their way back through.
    “Careful here...we’re passing the ravine…” Master Arwen’s voice echoed over the buzzing of cicadas. “It’ll be harder to see in the dark, so take care to regard your surroundings!”

    The further they went, the less sure Mellie was about her ability to make it back dry...she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been this desperate for a wee. Her bladder felt like a gourd in her abdomen, full beyond capacity and quivering with the effort to hold back what surely would be a river’s worth of golden nectar. It didn’t help that every time she’d wince or whimper, Priscilla would look at her with concern... Melina hated feeling pitied. If anything, her friend's gaze bolstered Melina’s strength, causing her to tighten her muscles further to prove that she would not be bested by her acute desire to urinate.

    “Melina…” Priscilla murmured after several more minutes of walking, a hint of pleading in her voice. “Honestly, why are you torturing yourself? We can just ask Master Arwen to stop, he’ll-”
    “I said I’m fine, Pris…” Melina huffed, glaring at her friend. “I told you, I can hold it as long as I- AHHH!”
    Melina’s thought was cut off as her foot caught on a root, causing her to stumble aside. The loose brush slid from underneath Melina’s feet, and she slipped sideways, plunging headfirst into the shadowy ravine.

    “MELINA!” Priscilla yelled after her as she landed with a *thud* on the verdant hillside, nearly forcing a spurt from her as she began tumbling head over heels down the leafy slope. She couldn’t see anything as she bowled further down into the forest; all she could do was tuck her head into her hands and hope for the best.
    She rolled and tumbled for a good few minutes, wincing as brambles and dead branches cut into her arms and legs and trying to fight the queasiness the rolling motion was stoking in her. Finally, she felt the decline level out, rolling her over a log and pitching her right into a tree.

    *OOF!* She grunted as she smacked against the trunk before coming to rest at its base.
    Groaning, she slowly sat up, rubbing her arm. She shook her head a few times to clear out the dizziness, blinking her eyes in the dim coolness of the forest floor. She was still alive, so that was good...She flexed her fingers and her toes. Nothing felt broken, so aside from a bit of nausea, she was completely fine...other than the bulging bladder she was still nursing, of course..

    She slowly staggered to her feet, blowing air out of her mouth as she looked around. Fear, hot and sour, bloomed in her chest as she peered around the darkened landscape; she had no idea where she was. She swallowed, turning to look back towards the hill she’d rolled down, but with the sun having all but set, it was far too dark for her to attempt to climb back up; she’d just end up getting herself more lost. Wincing again as her bladder throbbed within her, Melina finally shot a hand between her legs, scooting back to lean up against the tree. She breathed heavily, tears welling in her eyes as she did her best not to panic.
    Okay, think… she thought fervently to herself. It wasn’t that far of a fall. Pris’ll tell Arwen what happened, and they’ll find a way to get to you. You just have to wait. They'll be here in no t-
    Suddenly, Melina heard a twig crack behind her. What was that!? She whirled about, but she could see nothing in the gathering gloom.
    Swallowing again, she reached forward, snapping a branch of the log in front of her before digging in her pack for one of her flint rocks.

    After a few tense seconds, her fingers closed around the jagged little stone, and she quickly pulled it out with a triumphant “Ha!”. She began scraping it against the wood, her heart hammering in her chest as she continued to glance anxiously around. “Come on, come on…” She hissed.
    Finally, a flame sprung to life atop the branch. She quickly held it aloft, looking around the ravine to try and find any sort of landmark she could orient herself by… but there was none. None that she could recognize, anyway. She wasn’t sure how far she’d rolled from the path, but she was well and truly off of it.
    Just then, Melina heard a rustling. It came from ahead, and it didn’t sound too far away. Footfalls, heavy and slow, began to approach. Melina felt nearly sick with fear, and as she reached into her pack to pull out her knife, she felt a bit of pee leak into her underthings; her bladder was still beyond full, but adrenaline numbed the pressure. She cowered back up next to the tree, sinking down into a crouching position. She swallowed, her eyes darting around and her heart beating so fast and hard she could hardly think.

    The footfalls grew louder...closer...heavier…

    Suddenly, the log in front of her was lifted up and tossed aside, revealing a group of  hulking figures standing a few feet from Melina. As they came into the light, Melina’s mouth opened in a soundless scream.
    The creatures before her were huge, each at least 7 feet tall, towering over the cowering Melina. They each looked quite strong, judging by the taut, rippling muscles bulging under skin in varying shades of green. They were each dressed in boarhide pauldrons that linked over each shoulder and a loincloth that looked to be made of wolf-pelts. Their feet were tucked into a pair of enormous bearskin galoshes that appeared to be lined with foxfur, but that wasn’t the strangest part.
    As Melina looked closer, she noticed the creatures were...female? She could make out wrappings around each chest concealing what must’ve been two mountainous breasts, and as her eyes traveled downward, she could see a well-muscled bare midriff fanning out into a pair of shapely hips that filled out the loincloths in a way Melina would’ve thought was quite nice, had she not been so terrified.
    Finally, Melina forced her eyes to look up into their fearsome faces...the creatures’ beady eyes glared down at her over squat, bulbous noses, each regarding her with no small amount of hostility. Their mouths were curled up in a snarl, dusky green lips pulled back over sets of deadly-looking tusks. They all had a variety of hairstyles, from messy mohawks to sideshaves, to completely shaven heads. The one closest to Melina had a single braid, running from the tip of her forehead all the way down past her back, and in her hand was a fearsome looking iron battle-axe, the grip bound in leather.

    “Hmm…” The creature grumbled in a rich, husky alto, squatting down next to Melina. Up close, Melina could really see the creature's face in detail. Her skin was rife with lines and crags, like hide stretched over a drum. Her eyes were a strange blend of amber and green, seeming to change in the light of Melina's torch. Her tusks were stained and worn, one of them bearing a golden band around it that glinted in the fire light.
    “Man-cub..." She muttered again, her mouth curling into a bone-chilling grin. "Pretty far from your little village, arncha?” She cackled wickedly.
    Melina said nothing, her voice completely stolen by fear. Her eyes bugged out as she regarded the creature in front of her, only able to look on in terror.
    The amazon’s devious grin widened. “Oy, lasses, seems we’ve got ourselves a mutie.” She murmured, causing a low rumble of laughter to echo around the woman’s compatriots.
    The green giant looked back at Melina, chuckling. “Yeh dumb, girl, or just scared? I-”

    Suddenly, she stopped, narrowing her eyes and sniffing the air. “Ah…” She sneered, her eyes dropping to Melina’s crotch. “Scared it is. Smart lass. Can’t tell yeh how many of yer kind we’ve axed cause they didn’t have the good sense t’be afraid of the Kh’raven Tribe.” She muttered as she stood back up. “‘Course, it seems nunya have the decency t’be afraid of us orcs anymore, the way yeh come into our forest, take what yeh want and force the rest of us t’ either run away, kowtow and slave away for yeh, or be put t’the sword.”

    Melina still said nothing, merely trembling on the ground in the face of what she was certain was going to be a painful death.
    The orc woman rolled her shoulders, causing the muscles within them to ripple impressively. “I’ll tell yeh, we don’t take too kindly t’bein’ at the mercy of yer little pink arses. It’s demeanin’, it is… and it seems yeh all have forgotten who really rules these woods. Your king wagers we’ll all just lay down and submit...and we Kh’raven always settle our wagers, don’t we?”

    Another rumble of laughter from the surrounding orcs.

    Feeling was beginning to return to Melina’s body, and she swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back to her mouth. “W-whatever problems you have with the King,” She squeaked, a lot braver than she felt. “I have no part in it. I’m no royal, and I don’t claim to be. S-so just...air out your grievances with him if you must, and leave me be!”

    One of the clean-shaven orcs snarled. “You dare speak to th’ captain of th’ Kh’raven Guard like that!? A good slap to yer slave-makin’ face oughta tame yer tongue…” She hissed, starting forward with her hand outstretched, but she was stopped by the leader’s outstretched arm.
    “Easy, Malash…” the guard captain murmured, her eyes flitting back to Melina. Her expression was less wicked than it had been...She looked more curious than anything now.

    “Got some fire in you, man-cub…” She grumbled, an undertone of admiration in her voice. “More’n I’ve seen from the rest of yer ilk, anyway. The Chief’s gonna be quite interested ‘n you... Ognil, Ghora.” She barked, getting to her feet. “Help our little pet up.”

    Melina’s eyes widened in fear once more. Chief!? Was she going to be taken to their...their home!?

    The orc called Malash peered dumbfounded at the guard captain as two other orcs stepped forward towards Melina, roughly hoisting her up by her arms. She yelped as the action jolted her ponderously full bladder, and immediately her thighs squeezed together as she fought to keep herself from leaking again.

    “Yeh can’t be serious, Khamina…” Malash began, setting her jaw. “What use could th’ Chief have for a little worm like her? We should just kill her now and be done w-”
    “The Chief’ll decide what she can have use for, Malash.” Khamina cut in coolly, though there was a bit of an edge to her voice that said she was not to be challenged. “‘Sides…”
    She reached out, running a finger along Melina’s cheek with a smirk as she was dragged past. “‘Twould be a shame to kill a pretty little thing like her fer no reason. Alright, you lot, move out!” She ordered turning and striding away.
    Malash scowled, casting one last dirty look at Melina before following the captain.
    Melina herself could only swallow and pray, letting out a small whimper as the orcs dragged her away into the night.

    TO BE CONTINUED….
  5. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    Hello again! Sorry this chapter took so long, I was having computer problems >.< Originally I was planning to make this just 3 chapters but, I got a bit carried away, so I decided to cut chapter two...in two. XD 

    As always, hope you all enjoy!

    CHAPTER 2: The Warcamp

    Melina was not one for crying, usually. She thought it a silly and juvenile way to respond to one’s problems, one best abandoned in youth. But as she hung by her forearms from the vice like grip of two Amazonian orc women, being dragged back to their den, she couldn’t help the tears from falling down her cheeks… and the way things were going, her other “cheeks” were about to get a similar bath.
    Luckily her legs were free for her to twist and squeeze and do anything she could to hold off the impending flood, though part of her didn’t know why she bothered. She’d never live to see the sunrise tomorrow, why deny herself relief?

    No… she thought adamantly to herself. If I’m going to die, it’ll be upright and proud, not soiling myself like a child…
    And so, her thighs continued to rub against each other, causing her to shift this way and that in the grasp of her captors.
    “Oi…” One of the orcs holding her grumbled, glaring down at her. “Stop all that squirmin’ about, y’hear?”
    Melina swallowed, doing her best to heed the command...but without the reinforcing pressure of her rubbing thighs, it came down to sheer will to hold back her flood, and already the pain of doing so was becoming unbearable. Her toes curled in her boots as she tensed her pelvic muscles, wincing at each wave of pressure that bore down upon her tiring sphincter.

    They walked for what seemed like ever, further and further into the forest. Even if Arwen and the others were looking for her, there was no way they’d find her now… she’d never see her master again, or her friends...Pris...She’d never see her dear Priscilla again…
    Melina swallowed again, trying to fight off the next wave of tears as they welled up fresh in her eyes.
    She was distracted from her morose contemplation as after another ten minutes or so, Melina saw a smudge of flickering orange against the shadowy darkness of the forest, pulsing like a heartbeat. As they got closer, the smudge got clearer and brighter, until she realized that it was fire… multiple roaring fires, to be exact, burning brightly in what looked like watchtowers of some sort. The topmost flames crackled brightly, silhouetting what looked to be gargantuan barricades of logs even taller than the orcs, overlaid with large wooden spikes jutting outward to ward off intruders.
    Her ears detected the low din of a crowd as they approached as well. It steadily got louder and louder until Melina could make out the hooting and hollering and carrying on of what she assumed had to be the rest of the tribe.
    What manner of custom was it that they’d all be making such a din at this time of night? Was it a ritual? Was it a holiday? Was in the shouts of joy that preceded a feast on the flesh of a human girl who’d wandered too far into the forest?

    Melina swallowed, legs trembling in fear as well as desperation.

    Finally, the procession approached a massive crude wooden gate consisting of two more giant wooden spikes stuck into the ground on either side, bearing a curved slat of wood between them. As Melina looked up, she could make out the silhouette of a stuffed boar’s head mounted on the slat, a grotesque sentry guarding the entrance to the orcs’ home. Her head craned left and right; the looming parapets extended into the darkness on either side, and there were sentry towers placed equidistantly along its perimeter, each manned by an orc dressed similarly to her captors.
    Khamina strode up to the great wooden gates, raising a hand to hail the orcs on guard.
    One of them shouted something to her in a foreign tongue, and Khamina answered back in the same language. Melina couldn’t understand Orcish, but she assumed it had to be some manner of password or secret phrase; any encampment this fortified would have such measures in place to ward off trespassers.

    After a moment, the gates swung open, revealing a long, oblong dirt path flanked by torches in wooden sconces. Melina couldn’t help but peer around her as she was dragged inside, her fascination with the strange place briefly overcoming her fear. A half-dozen animal hide tents lined each side of the path, nestled under tall wooden walkways that curved down towards the gate and bore an equal number of tents upon them. Between the third and forth upper tent on each side rose the tallest towers, and Melina could now clearly see the great bronze basins blazing inside them, lighting the entire pavilion. The space beneath the corresponding tents beneath looked open, possibly a path leading to other parts of the camp… from her angle behind the guard captain, Melina couldn’t tell for sure. All around were orcs talking, laughing, eating or laying out under the stars… and strangely enough, they all appeared to be female. A few of them turned to look at the newest prisoner the guard had brought back, but most of them ignored her; this must’ve been somewhat of a common occurrence. None of them looked hungry, which Melina took some small comfort in.
    Directly ahead of them at the end of the dirt path was a large, squat wooden cabin, elevated on a constructed platform accessible by a set of stairs. Two bronze boar statues stood on either side of the stairs, raised on their own stone plinths. As they got closer, Melina could see a roughspun cloth hanging over the entrance to the stout abode, emblazoned with a crude orcish head over a pair of x-crossed battle axes. On either side, next to wooden columns inlaid with gold at the top and base, stood two more orcs. They were dressed in leather cuirasses, and wore what appeared to be bronzed seals on their waists. Each of them held a tall silver halberd and had a piercing in the left ear.
    Judging by their slightly more serious armor, not to mention the prominence of the building itself, Melina guessed whoever lived here had to be quite important.
    Khamina held up a hand to stop the party as she strode up the stairs to meet the guards. After a brief conversation in that foreign tongue of theirs, one of them turned and disappeared into the hold.
    Melina swallowed, anxiety blooming inside her stomach in tandem with the now nearly numbing ache in her abdomen.
    After a few more minutes, the guard reappeared, murmuring something to Khamina, who in turn looked back, beckoning her fellows forward. Malash nodded and strode forward, followed by Ognild and Ghora hefting Melina between them. The girl groaned inwardly as she was dragged up the steps, every bump of her feet against the stairs sending a painful jolt through her straining bladder...she winced as she felt another tiny spurt escape her, running in lazy golden rivulets down her inner thigh. The guards regarded Melina as she was dragged past, snorting in a manner most feral.

    As Melina was pulled through the drapes, she felt a burst of heat wash over her from the large fire pit in the middle of the floor, coated in burnished copper and crackling gently. All manner of animal pelts coated the floor and hung on the walls of the stately hold, signifying that it was the place of great rank. Had she not been so deathly terrified, she would have thought it was quite a charming lodge. The two orcs holding Melina followed Khamina around the edge of the firepit, towards the other side of the cabin. There, on another, smaller elevated platform, flanked by two more guards, sat what Melina assumed had to be the Chief.
    This orc was a slightly lighter shade of green than her underlings, but she was no less muscular or menacing. She was dressed similar to her guard, save for a bearskin cape draped around her broad shoulders and a necklace of various animal teeth resting against her generous bosom. Circlets of bronze clasped her wrists, and intricate leather armbands strained against the rippling biceps on each of her arms. Each long, pointed ear was pierced with two bronze rings, and Melina could see an intricate gold ring encircling each of her tusks. One look at her midriff told Melina that the Chieftain’s bellybutton was pierced as well, bearing a gold stud right above the little nub.
    Her hair was shaved on both sides, the top done in another intricate braid even larger than Khamina’s. She was reclining on a tall, simple wooden throne covered in fur and ringed by two massive tusks of some creature Melina didn’t even recognize...and for some curious reason, her lap was covered in a quilt, despite the considerable warmth of the hold.

    Ognild and Ghora dragged Melina up towards the throne as Khamina knelt before the chieftain, murmuring something to her in Orcish. The chieftain spoke back, and they carried on for a few moments as Melina waited with bated breath.
    Finally, the chieftain’s eyes flitted from her guard captain to Melina, and she raised a green hand to beckon them forth.
    Melina yelped as she was dragged even closer and tossed before the chief without thought. The action sent the most intense shock yet through her tortured bladder, and she had to tense every muscle in her body to keep from gushing right then and there. She trembled, both in fear and with the effort of keeping herself (mostly) dry, not daring to look up lest she offend the stalwart orcess.
    The chieftain’s lips curled into a ghost of a smirk as she regarded the snivelling pink girl in front of her. “Look at me, man-cub.” She growled authoritatively in a gravelly voice that was slightly higher than Khamina’s, but no less commanding.
    Melina swallowed, slowly and shakily raising her head.
    The chieftain continued to stare at her. “Stand.” She commanded.
    Melina whimpered and did as she was told, attempting to get to her feet...and immediately she hunched over again as her bladder jackknifed within her abdomen, nearly causing her to collapse again.
    The chieftain set her jaw, looking as though she were trying not to smile. “I told you to stand, man-cub. Why do you defy me?”
    Melina swallowed again, forcing herself to look up. “I-I’m sorry, Your Grace, b-but I...I can’t...”
    “Why not?” Came the booming answer.
    Melina bit her lip. Her eyes flitted around, and she felt her cheeks redden.

    At her hesitation, Malash’s lips curled up in a sneer. “Chief Urza asked you a question, whelpling…” She hissed, crossing one thick arm over the other.

    Melina swallowed a third time, steeling herself. “I...I need to wee…” She murmured in a small voice.

    “Speak up, child.” Chief Urza ordered with a hint of a growl. “You try my patience.”

    Melina shivered again, squeezing her thighs together. “I-I need to wee…” She said a bit louder, prompting a rumble of snickering from the attendant guard.

    The chief sneered, leaning forward. “‘Need to wee’, do you? Fragile little man-cub, gagging for a slash?” She smirked. “Khamina here says she could smell the piss on you when they found you...and now you stand before me, desperate to release again...pitiful…”

    At this, Melina’s fear was momentarily buried under a modicum of indignation.
    “I never released…” She huffed before she could stop herself. “I-I’ve been holding it in since last night...it’s only natural I’ll have to go eventually…”

    The attendant guards blinked, looking at each other, as did the two orcs who’d brought Melina in.
    Urza herself raised an eyebrow. “Last night, you say? Strong, for a human… let’s see just how strong…” She nodded to Malash, who grinned and strode forward towards Melina.
    The girl paled, her bravado disappearing as she instinctively backed away from the woman, but Malash’s hand was too fast; she caught Melina by the collar, tugging her forward. She ripped the cloth keeping Melina’s hair in place free and forced it between the girl’s lips, bringing it around her head and tying it off. Cackling, she grabbed the girl’s arms, forcing them behind her back and easily holding both the girl’s wrists in place with one fist. With the other, she reached around, roughly pulling up Melina’s shirt to her midriff, exposing her smooth, milky flesh and the rotund protrusion in her abdomen. As Urza’s eyes dropped to it, Melina could’ve swore she saw something jump under the quilt from between the chieftain’s thighs. “Hmm… you  appear quite full indeed…” She murmured.
    The orc chief leaned forward, her intense gaze settling on Melina as her lips curled back over her jagged teeth in a wicked grin. “I’ll tell you what. How about a little wager, man-cub? You say you’ve not tasted relief since last night...If you can hold your waters for a meager ten minutes more, I will have my guards escort you back to the edge of the forest, where you can run along back to your human village. If not...you will remain here, and become a servant of the Kh’raven till the next harvest moon.”
    Melina swallowed, rubbing her thighs together again. Ten minutes? It would be tough, but...she’d waited this long, she was sure she could make it another ten minutes...but what if the Chieftain didn’t keep her word? How was Melina to know she’d actually be set free? Justice and mercy didn’t seem to be large concerns for a civilization such as this...

    Melina set her jaw. She had no choice...if there was a chance she could leave this nightmare behind, she had to take it.
    Melina nodded, looking the chief square in the eye with as much dignity as she could muster being gagged and half-bent over in desperation.
    Chief Urza grinned deviously. “We have an accord, then.” She murmured, looking up at Malash and nodding again.
    The orc woman nodded back, bringing her hand around to Melina’s stomach and resting a large, green hand on the protruding bulge.
    Melina’s eyes suddenly widened as she realized what was going to happen, and why she’d been given such a short window. She vehemently shook her head. “N-nuuhh, nuh pleafe dunt!” She pleaded.
    With a sneer, Malash pressed her fingers into Melina’s swollen abdomen, causing the girl to lurch forward, her upper body trembling with the effort not to explode right there. The hand relented for a moment, causing Melina to gasp in relief...but the respite was short-lived as the woman dug in and pressed again, forcing a groan from Melina’s gagged lips as she shook her head back and forth.
    Chief Urza chuckled to herself as Malash continued to rhythmically dig her fingers into the young alchemist’s swollen organ, trying to literally squeeze the piss out of the poor girl’s twitching form. Melina squirmed and writhed in the woman’s grasp, tears stinging her eyes as the river of urine bore heavily on her weakening muscles. Her thighs quivered as her incompressible bladder was compressed, waves of pressure battering down on her tired sphincter… and still, she did not give in. How she’d managed to hold on this long was anyone’s guess...she’d been near to bursting before falling into the ravine, and her bladder had only gotten fuller since then, growing tight and swollen in her abdomen… and now a superhumanly strong orc was trying to squeeze the pee out of her with her hand, with only her aching muscles to fight back.
    But Melina still just barely held on, her will and her pride the only things keeping her from bursting right here in the hold. The rest of the orcs were watching intently, all bearing similar looks of surprise at how resilient the human girl was. It was obvious that she was ready to pop, and yet she denied both Malash and herself the satisfaction of finally giving in to the overwhelming pressure… and it was beginning to affect them. Ghora and Ognild both watched with rapt attention, their eyes roving hungrily over Melina’s half-exposed form. Khamina had her axe upside down in the dirt, leaning on it as her eyes watched Malash’s hand dig mercilessly into the taut bump on the girl’s navel… she bit her lip, her cheeks flushing a slightly darker green as she slowly, discreetly began to rock her hips against the shaft of her weapon with gentle sighs. Even Chief Urza, haughty as she was, had a bit of a shortness to her breath...and the quilt over her lap began to twitch over and over again, causing the material to jump up and down.

    Beads of sweat dotted Melina’s forehead as her eyes rolled back in her head, drool running down her chin as she continued to hold on. With a grunt of frustration Malash adjusted her angle, her fingers now pointed down towards Melina’s crotch. She resumed her pressing, kneading in a digging motion in an effort to force the urine downward and break Melina’s tenuous control.
    Melina squeaked from around her gag, her eyes rolling up in her head as her thighs vibrated in protest to this new method of torment. Try as she might, she knew it was over...her loins burned like fire, the ponderous liquid load within her weighing mercilessly on her weakened sphincter. After a few more seconds of this onslaught, Melina could stand it no longer. With a strangled gurgle, her muscles gave out as urine gushed from between her thighs, hissing noisily into her trousers. Her shoulders sagged in relief as she continued to blast the floor for all she was worth, the day and half’s worth of pee streaming down onto the dirt below and running in little rivulets down the divot towards the fire.

    As Melina continued to violently wet herself, Urza let out a raucous bout of laughter.
    “It’s quite perplexing how a soft little race like you was able to conquer so much of this land, when you can’t even hold your own piss properly.” She teased, her cruel grin still upon her face. “You impress me, though, man-cub...you made it nearly seven minutes. Do not worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get strong in the coming days. Ghora, Ognild...take her to the apothecary hut.”
    Melina’s head hung as her stream finally began to abate after nearly 2 full minutes, her shoulders shaking with both relief and despair. Her one chance at freedom, washed away in her urine. Now she was trapped here until autumn, and who knew if she’d even survive that long. This time, as Ghora and Ognild stepped forward to drag the girl away, she let the tears fall freely. Her head hung as they pulled her back around the fire pit, Malash grinning in triumph as she watched...though unbeknownst to the girl, her eyes never once left Melina’s soaked hindquarters.
    As they emerged once again into the night, she heard snorts from the orcs guarding the Chieftain’s throne room, and their throaty chuckles from behind her caused her cheeks to burn in humiliation. She felt even more eyes on her as she was dragged back through the center of the camp, trailing urine all the way. She was sure they were beginning to murmur about her...the weak, foolish human who’d wet herself like an infant. She didn’t even know what her new servitude would entail...given the rough look of the camp, and the treatment she’d gotten since arriving, she couldn’t imagine it would be anything pleasant.
    So caught up in her despondency was Melina that she hardly even noticed when the orcs veered off the main path, dragging her under the wooden walkways and through to a small clearing surrounded by smaller but still quite strong looking walls of sharpened logs. At the far corner sat a large, squat hut, the door and single window of it gently glowing from the fire within. Atop the thatched roof was a small hole out of which billowed smoke...someone must’ve been home. As they got closer, Melina’s head raised. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Melina could’ve sworn she saw chrysanthemums, lilies and violets around the front… an orc who kept a garden?
    One of the orcs let go of her, causing Melina to droop in the dirt, suspended by one arm in the other’s grip.

    The orc strode forward, banging on the door. “Oi! Milkweed! Open up!”

    There was a rustling in the hut as someone moved towards the door, and it opened to reveal a young orc girl who looked hardly older than Melina...and quite smaller than any other orc she’d met. She was still rather robust when compared to humans, and looked as though she’d probably be a fair bit taller than Melina standing up, but in contrast to her hulking compatriots, this one was…downright puny. From her awkward position, Melina could see that she was also dressed far more conservatively, in a simple linen dress and a leather apron. Her toned green arms were folded in front of her as she looked up at her visitors in quiet reservation.

    “Yes, Ognild?” She said in the gentlest voice Melina had heard in this camp.

    The bigger orc snorted. “You got a new roommate.” She huffed, beckoning her compatriot forward. Melina yelped as she was yanked forward and tossed at the new woman’s feet with an unceremonious *thud*, her trousers squelching wetly as she landed.

    “Careful, seems she isn’t house-trained…” Ognild cackled, high-fiving Ghora as they both turned to make their way back to camp proper.

    Melina swallowed, struggling to sit up and wincing as she felt her urine on her pants beginning to cool.

    “Here…” The orc woman before her murmured gently. “Let me help you…” She reached down, gently grabbing Melina’s arms and hoisting her up with surprising strength, given her relatively diminutive stature.

    As Melina got shakily to her feet, she got her first good look up at the new girl’s face, blinking in surprise. This orc was...there was no other word for it; pretty. Her leafy green skin looked smooth and soft, and her dark hair was unshaven, merely tied back in a messy braid that sloped gently over her shoulder. Her jade lips were a bit pouty, closed gently over tiny tusks that looked more like cute little fangs than anything. But the strangest thing was her eyes...they were clouded white, and the tissue around them looked scarred and diseased.

    Melina swallowed. “I...you’re-”
    “-Blind? Since the day I was born.” the orc girl murmured with a wan chuckle. “Come, let’s get you inside…” She murmured, taking the girl’s hand once more and pulling her into the hut.

    The first thing that hit Melina was the smell. It was...odd, but quite wonderful. All manner of scent and aroma swirled around her head in a heady bouquet that would have been overwhelming, had she not spent most of her time in similarly aromatic environments. “One moment, I’ll fetch you some fresh clothes…” The girl murmured, disappearing behind a small curtain over to the right of the hut.

    The abode was a bit cozier than it looked, a large rectangular room with the most central feature being the lit fireplace on the other side in a stone hearth. Above it hung all manner of pots, pans and strange cooking utensils, and to the side sat a squat little table with a single chair. Up against the opposite wall was a large bookcase that was filled not with books, but with plants and strange stones of all different shapes and sizes. So prominent was it that Melina almost didn’t notice the curtained off doorway behind it, through which she could just make out a stout little bed shoved unceremoniously into the corner. It reminded her of her own room back in Rivenwelle, and the thought made her heart ache.

    "This may be a little big on you…” the girl called as she came back in with a fresh linen tunic. “But at least you won’t have to go bottomless while I get your trousers clean…just slide them off, I’ll take care of them.”

    Melina continued to stand in the center of the room, arms around herself. “U-um...take them off? Here?” She murmured.

    The orc girl turned round, smirking gently as her sightless eyes crinkled up in humor. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll see something I shouldn’t?”
    Melina reddened as the reality dawned on her, and she quickly set to removing her boots and peeling off the dripping fabric, wincing as it made a sucking noise coming off of her skin.

    She gently folded them, reddening even deeper as she held them out. The orc girl pursed her lips for a moment before reaching out and grabbing the urine-soaked fabric without so much as a twitch. She held the tunic out for Melina, who took it without a word.
    As she began redressing herself, Melina watched the girl move about the hut with a surety she didn’t expect from someone who couldn’t see. It was as if she knew the entire place by heart, able to find where she was by knowing where she’d been.

    “So...it’s been a while since we’ve had a human here…What’s your name?” The orc girl murmured as she reached up to fetch a pot from above the fireplace.
    Melina blinked. “Urm...Melina...”

    The orc girl grinned. “Melina...that’s a nice name. I’m Orla. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

    Melina nodded, feeling herself relax slightly. This had by far been the most hospitable orc she’d encountered, no sense expending energy keeping up an unnecessary guard.

    “Okay...Orla…” Melina murmured. “Erm...How did you know I was human?”

    Orla grinned over her shoulder. “You all smell funny. And I don’t mean the particular funny smell that you have right now, but a general, regular ‘funny’... like wood and steel and flowers and...honey.” She murmured, shrugging. “Every human I’ve encountered has smelled the exact same.”

    Melina frowned. “Uh...have you encountered many humans?”

    Orla took the pot down, turning it over in her hands. “Not directly. But a few of them pass by our camp in the forest, dressed in those metal suits… they smell like you.” She murmured, chuckling. “So...how did you get out here?”

    Melina swallowed, casting her eyes down. “I...was with my mentor, and my...classmates…” She murmured. “...I slipped off the path and fell into a ravine, and...and…”

    “-and Khamina found you.” The orc girl finished, feeling her way over to the squat table and reaching out for a moment before her hands closed over a water pitcher. “I’m surprised you’re still alive, she must’ve really liked you…”

    At this, Melina looked up with a huff. “Liked me? You’re telling me I was kidnapped, taken to this camp and enslaved because she was being merciful?”
    Orla shrugged as she began to pour water into the pot. “To orc-kind, life is a mercy. As long as you can breathe, you can fight, and all that… but...she probably had other thoughts, too...I assume you’ve met Chief Urza?”

    Melina pursed her lips, remembering how that woman had laughed as she burst all over the ground. “I have…” She muttered darkly.
    The orc girl turned towards Melina, detecting the shift in her voice. “Ah...I know she’s...someone that takes some getting used to, but she’s not really a bad sort, she just...has to look like she is. Hard enough to lead a camp when you’re only filling in for your husband…”

    At this, Melina looked up again. “...‘Husband’?” She repeated.
    Orla chuckled again as she brought the pot over to hang on the fire. “Yes, Agroth the Bane...he’s our Chief, has been since before the war…”

    Melina blinekd. “I-the war? What do you mean?”

    Orla blinked in turn. “Goodness, you humans really don’t know about anything outside your castle, do you?” She jested, chuckling once more. “Last winter, the goblin hordes from the Black Mountain began poaching off our hunting grounds...started small, with small game like pheasant and rabbits. Chief Agroth didn’t want to incite a conflict over nothing, so he let it be. But his restraint made them bold, and they began going after larger game...boars and deer, even elk… finally, he decided to confront them. Goblin King told the Chief that the runoff from the Black Mountain was what made the soil fertile and attracted the wildlife, so they had the true claim to the lands, and if the Kh'raven wanted it, they'd have to fight for it. Chief tried to be diplomatic...told the goblins that if they apologized and left, he’d leave their skulls uncrushed and their stores un-pillaged. Course, that didn’t sit too well with the Goblin King, and he told the Chief…” She swallowed, her empty gaze cast downward. “He told the Chief that if he was too yellow-hearted to fight, he’d bring a platoon of goblins to the village to show the orc women what true conquest looks like. Since then, we’ve been at war. All the men are off fighting, so the women and the elderly are here, tending the homestead. I’d say we’ve risen to the occasion, all things considered…”

    Melina found herself listening with rapt attention, completely ensorceled by the tale. “So they just...left the women to run the village? And they were okay with that?”

    Orla nodded, now heading over towards a cupboard over the table. “Sure. Most of the women here can swing an axe as well as any man...the Kh’raven value strength above everything, even gender. In fact, Khamina’s been guard captain since before Agroth left, simply ‘cause no one’s been able to beat her in any competition.”

    Melina frowned. “So she’s in charge cause she’s the strongest?”

    Orla nodded again. “More or less. The stronger you are, the higher your station. That’s why the skinny little blind orc is stuffed away out of sight, where I 'belong'." She muttered with a dry snort. "I can move on my own alright, but I’d be useless in a fight… so I spend my time here, mixing my tinctures and trying to stay out of everyone’s way.” she murmured, sounding a little dejected.

    Melina felt her heart seize in her chest with pity. “Well…” She said, sitting up. “I happen to think you’re the loveliest person I’ve met here. I don’t care that you can’t fight, you’re kind and caring and...and pretty…” She murmured, blushing gently.

    Orla seemed just as flustered, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of green as her smile returned. “Khamina says flowery compliments are for babes and beavers, but… it’s nice to hear. I’m sure you’re quite pretty yourself…” She murmured.

    Melina watched Orla pull a strange clay pot out of the cupboard, opening it and pulling a pinch of some tart-smelling powder out. “This’ll help with your trousers. It’s a powdered concentrate of a powerful cleaning agent called-”

    “-Limewort.” Melina blurted automatically. “Made from the roots of the limewort vine and very good for drawing liquid out of fabric.”

    Blinking, Orla turned to the girl, her milky eyes widening in surprise. “...That’s right...How did you know that?”

    For the first time since arriving at the camp, Melina gave a small smile. “I’m an...alchemist, back in the human town...I deal with reagents like this all the time.”
    Orla blinked again, her face positively lighting up in excitement as she hurried over to Melina and squatted in front of her. “Are you really?” She muttered excitedly. “No one ever knows about the stuff I work with, how long have you been practicing?”

    A little flustered by the sudden questioning, Melina smiled shyly. “Since I was a wee lass, when I started mixing alfroot and vilenium...nearly blew my pa’s eyebrows off…” She chuckled.

    Orla’s grin widened and she plunked herself down, hurriedly rolling up her dress to reveal a shiny burn on the side of her calf. “Same thing happened to me! Alfroot and vilenium!” She cackled. “But I had nothing to treat it with, I was all out of-”
    “-Springsprig!?” Melina interrupted, feeling her trepidation melt away almost immediately as she leaned forward. “You know, burns can also be treated with a bit of maloeleaf and honey…”
    “...But only when set on a shelf for a few days…” Orla continued.
    “To let the sugar break the petals down!” They both yelled in unison. There was a moment of silence, and suddenly both girls devolved into a fit of laughter as they reveled in finding a kindred soul.

    Melina wiped a tear away from her eye, still snorting and in considerably higher spirits. “Ha...hahaha...so, erm...the limewort…” She murmured. “You use it often?”
    Orla nodded, her grin the widest it had been as she got to her feet. “Oh, yes. It works wonders on urine stains.”

    Reddening, Melina cleared her throat. “You...have a lot of experience cleaning...pee stains?”

    Orla chuckled as she grabbed the jar again and began sprinkling the powder on the trousers. “More than you could imagine…” She replied, giving Melina a sly little smile. “You’ll see.”
    Briefly perplexed by Melina’s cryptic response, Melina merely settled back with a gentle sigh. “Well...I suppose there are worse places to be trapped until autumn…”
    Orla frowned gently, cocking her head. “Autumn?” She repeated.
    Melina’s own frown returned, and she sighed deeply. “That’s how long I have to stay here...the Chief said I’d be free to go if I could hold my pee for ten minutes, but….I hadn’t gone in a day and a half, and that nasty orc kept...kept pressing and I...couldn't hold it…and now I’m stuck here...” She murmured, sounding quite forlorn.
    Orla peered down at the girl, gently biting her lip as if wrestling with something. She knelt down next to the girl again. “There’s no sense worrying about it right now. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning, after a good night’s sleep.”
    Melina looked up at Orla, her gentle, concerned features...for a fleeting moment, she reminded Melina of Priscilla…

    Swallowing, Melina averted her gaze, nodding. Orla smiled, gently helping Melina up once more and leading her over to the bed. “Here...you can sleep here. I’ll be working on your trousers a bit longer, and I’m a bit of a night owl anyway…”
    As soon as Melina sat down, her eyes felt heavy, as if all the anxiety from the day were weighing down on her. She gratefully laid down, pulling the covers over her body. Her eyes briefly flitted to Orla, humming gently to herself as she flitted about the hut… and slowly, she closed her eyes, finally drifting off to sleep.
  6. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    CHAPTER 3: Servitude

    Melina was awoken by the smell of something cooking. It was....rich, aromatic, and a bit spicy… entirely foreign but still quite delicious-smelling. She sat up under the quilts, looking around the space. The room was still dim, illuminated only by the light shining around the thick curtain separating the room from the rest of the hut.

    The hut….

    Suddenly, the events of the past day flooded into Melina’s mind. The expedition, falling into the ravine, being found by the orcs, being brought to the Chief, weeing herself like a little girl…

    Reality, cold and harsh, washed over her like a wave. She swallowed, trying to force down the anxiety welling up within her chest… she was bound to serve these creatures for the next few months, and she had no idea what such things would entail, but she could almost guarantee it would be unpleasant…
    She took a shuddering gasp, tears welling at the corners of her eyes as she continued to contemplate her lot… what were her choices? She could try to run, but there were guard towers all over the place, and they were all in view of the exit. Even if she managed to escape, she had no idea where she was...she’d simply be wandering the forest, waiting for something even nastier than the orcs to find her.
    Her shoulders slumped as the hopelessness of her situation continued to settle on her...she was well and truly trapped…

    “Melina?” Came a voice from the other side of the curtain.

    The young blonde blinked, turning towards the sound. “...Oh! Orla!” She exclaimed to herself, completely forgetting her woes as her host’s voice carried over to her.
    The curtain was pulled back, causing Melina to shield her eyes from the sudden light as Orla peered down at her. She was dressed differently today, clad in a sleeveless dark leather vest that extended down past her waist over her skirts and was cinched with a belt adorned with all manner of pouches.
    Melina’s eyes briefly flitted to Orla’s arms, fully exposed… they still were considerably more slender than the beefy strongwomen of the tribe, but they were no less sculpted, probably from years of stirring orcish concoctions.
    Reddening gently, Melina cleared her throat.

    “Erm...good morning…” She murmured.

    Orla smiled gently. “Oh, good, you’re awake. You should get up and get dressed, breakfast is nearly done… and we’ll need to eat quickly, I imagine they’re finishing up at the mess hall soon…”

    Melina blinked, frowning. “There’s a mess hall? Wait...so, why are you eating here?”

    Orla chuckled, pushing the curtain further back. “All they like is to grab legs of mutton and tear into them...I prefer my breakfasts to have a little more...I dunno, variety.” She tittered, still smiling as she turned and sauntered back to the cauldron that Melina assumed was the source of the scent.

    Her stomach growled… she realized she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and she was quite famished.

    She pushed the quilts off of her and swung her legs over the side of the bed, getting to her feet. She looked around for a moment before spotting her trousers, folded neatly at the foot of the bed, underneath her freshly cleaned boots. With a sigh, she pulled them on, tugged on her boots and followed her nose out to the food.

    Orla was back in the main parlour, stirring the contents of the cauldron. Melina smoothed down the night-tunic she’d been given as she strode in, looking around. “So, um… once we eat, we go to the mess hall?”

    Orla turned round, nodding gently as she took the cauldron off the flame and set it on the linens before setting a flat pan-like surface over the flame. “Yes, but don’t worry… there won’t be too much of a mess to clean up, the losers of yesterday’s match will be on chore duty for the week, they’ll probably have taken care of it…”

    Melina frowned, looking over at Orla. “...Yesterday’s match?”

    Orla chuckled gently to herself as she reached over towards a small shelf above the table, grabbing a few eggs and cracking them into the sizzling pan. “The Kh’raven are an...interesting folk.” She said, her speech just as cryptic as last night. “There’s another match happening this morning...It would be easier for you to see than for me to simply tell you…”

    Melina furrowed her brow, a strange sense of foreboding in her chest. “Come on, what is it? Is it some sort of sport?”

    Orla raised her head, gently tapping her chin. “...Yeah, I’d say so.” She said, her grin returning as she turned her sightless gaze towards Melina.

    Melina got the sense the orc girl was enjoying being deliberately vague, and so she decided to leave the subject alone. “Fine...so, what are you making?”

    Orla seemingly ignored her question, merely pointing up towards the higher shelf. “Grab two of those bowls, will you?”
    Melina huffed gently, but she acquiesced, striding over and grabbing two roughhewn wooden bowls down from above the cauldron and holding them out towards Orla. The orcish alchemist scooped the eggs off the pan with a wooden slat, sliding two into each bowl. She then took both the bowls and grabbed the iron ladle resting against the side of the cauldron, dipping it inside. She scooped up what looked to be a thick, rich brown stew that she ladled over the eggs, handing one bowl to Melina and keeping the other for herself.
    Melina took a deep whiff, and immediately her mouth started watering, she was so hungry. As soon as Orla gave her a spoon, she dug in, practically shoving spoonfuls of the spicy brown gravy and eggs into her mouth.
    Orla couldn’t help but chuckle as she sat down on a nearby stool with her own bowl, beginning to eat with a much less fervent speed.

    Melina cleaned her bowl in nothing flat, smacking her lips and looking around towards the cauldron.
    Orla looked up, only half-way through her own bowl. “The way you eat, I’d imagine you’ll fit in fine around here…” She chuckled, causing Melina to blush.
    “...Sorry, I...hadn’t eaten since yesterday…”
    Orla holds up a hand, shaking her head. “Don’t apologize...to be honest, most of my kin think you humans are too prim and proper anyways, it’s nice to see someone unabashedly enjoying themselves...well, figuratively, at least…” She added, her sightless eyes crinkling up in her cheeky grin.
    Melina offered a small chuckle of her own… despite her instincts to remain guarded here, Orla was simply too easy to be around.
    After a few more moments, the orc girl had finished as well, setting her own bowl down and getting to her feet. “Right then…” She murmured, dusting herself off. “Ready to go?”

    ~~~~~

    As the door swung open, Melina blinked in the light of the late morning sun, shining down warmly on the camp. The wooden walls cast short shadows over the grassy clearings, making this particular sector of the village look still somewhat dark. Melina noticed that the towers looked to be even more intricate in daylight, wooden slats latticed all up the sides as a rope ladder hung down the front for the guards to climb in and out.
    In fact, she could see one now… a large green leg swung out of the nearest tower, resting on the top most rung before the rest of the orc followed. She looked no different than the other orcs from the back, bald save for a long braid protruding from the crown of her head. She too was clad in tightly wound leather pauldrons, a cloth tunic underneath her loincloth and her own leather vest that seemed to fasten in the back with brass clasps… though Melina noticed those clasp were undone. As she descended the ladder, Melina couldn’t help but notice her climbing was a little awkward. Her thighs were pressed together, making for some strange footwork as she tried to ease her way down the rope.
    As she got to the ground, she stood, tensed for a minute before rolling her shoulders and turning around, making towards the camp proper with the same stiff tension in her body and her vest strangely pushed slightly out and away from her body.

    Melina watched her go, frowning. “What’s the matter with her?” She asked.

    Orla turned to Melina, frowning. “With who?”

    Melina blinked. “What do you mean? That guard right there, didn’t you see her- oh…”
    Her face burned with embarrassment as she cleared her throat, merely striding forward after the guard towards the main part of camp.

    The rest of the camp was already alive with activity, multiple orcs striding across the pitch with crates under their arms or piles of weapons in their hands. The air was full of idle chatter, and somewhere in the distance, the grinding of a whetstone could be heard. In the light of day, Melina couldn’t help but noticed how much bigger everyone looked...except for Orla, not a single Orc was under 6 feet tall, most averaging to be at least a few inches taller than that, and every one of them had stacked bodies rippling with muscle and sinew that made Melina weak in the knees. Any one of these hulking amazons could snap her neck with a flex of their wrists, and she just had to pray none of them would get the urge.

    Speaking of urge… Melina felt the barest twinges of a filling bladder within her abdomen. Having soiled herself so completely yesterday, and not having had much to drink since, it was not a strong sensation by any means...but she was quite paranoid about it now, especially seeing how she hadn’t noticed any facilities here last night.
    Before she could fixate on the apparent lack of places one might relieve themselves, Melina felt Orla steering her away from the main pitch and towards the other archway leading to the eastern pavilion of the camp, where she could see a large wooden building that she assumed had to be the mess hall.
    Upon entering, she was immediately assaulted by the dizzying scent of ale and the raucous laughter of the orc guard all crowded around the giant wooden table. All of them were talking and laughing and shoving and generally making nuisances of themselves, all with flagons of ale in their hands.
    Towards the head of the table was Khamina, the loudest of all, pounding her fist on the table and waving her flagon back and forth, sloshing ale all across the table as she did.
    Melina swallowed, trying her best to make herself seem small as she and Orla made their way further inside.

    “OI!”

    Melina flinched and raised her head in time to see the braid-headed orc from earlier...the one that had tortured Melina to the point of wetting herself, leering at her with a wide grin. “If it ain't Milkweed and her new pet! Just in time!”

    The rest of the orcs howled in laughter, and Melina found her cheeks burning with indignation. Orla too frowned, though her expression was more one of quiet reservedness. “Good morning, Malash…” she murmured quietly.

    Malash upended the rest of her flagon into her mouth, belching before setting it down. “Yer just in time...me an’ the gals just finished up here. Perimeter guard just came in from their shift, so, hope you got that lime-whatever ready, I imagine we’re gonna have a soakin’ floor here soon…”

    “*hff, hff*... f-fuck off, Malash…” Huffed a voice from the other side of the table. Melina recognized this one, too… the one who’d come down from that tower. She had stood, glowering at the guard captain’s second in command with her thighs still pressed tightly together and undulating against one another. “Perimeter guard’s just fine…”

    Malash chuckled, shrugging. “If yeh say so, Murob...looks like yer about t’spill a gusher right now… and yer squad doesn’t look much better...” She cackled, gesturing to the row of squirming, wiggling orc guards. Each bore a look of extreme discomfort on their tusken faces, and there was a fair amount of creaking as they ground their giant green asses into the bench.

    “Ain’t about to spill nothin’. We spend all day and night in those towers without a single change while the rest of yeh just hose down any tree whenever the mood strikes ya...” The orc woman smirked, her hands on the table and her undulating hips betraying her smug taunts.

    Malash’s grin only widened. “Fine. Let’s see, then...who can sit here the longest. Losers take the first watch of winter.”
    Murob snorted. “Yer on. Yer gonna eat your fuckin’ words, rot-tusk...

    “Oh, I think I’m startin’ to want yeh teh make me, puny-pouch…” Malash responded in kind, eyeing her rival with a strange hunger.

    “Hey, both a’ you knock it off.” Khamina called over the din, glaring at the two of them. “Both of yeh are gettin’ on my fuckin’ nerves. Murob, why don’t yeh take a walk and cool off… Malash, sit down and stop being so fuckin’ annoying.” She grumbled.

    Malash’s grin soured immediately at this, but after a single glare from Khamina, she scowled and took a seat anyway, grumbling to herself.

    “What was that?” Khamina asked immediately, glaring at Malash, who merely set her jaw.
    “Hmph...that’s what I thought. Alright, you lumps, break’s over...Tarog, you lost the match yesterday, so you get to clean up, but lucky for you, you got help.” She said, grinning over at Melina.

    As all eyes turned to her, Melina reddened, dropping her gaze again.

    “Oi...isn’t that the human Malash made piss herself last night?”

    “I think it is...Ghora said she’d been holdin’ it all day…”

    “That’s nothin’, Ognild told me she liked it…”

    “Hahaha, no way? She liked gettin’ piss on her? Shit, I ain’t been since the hunt yesterday morning! Hey, humie, I got some piss for yeh, yeh wanna-”

    “Alright...That’s enough.” Khamina huffed, though one could tell she was trying to suppress a grin. “Guard, time for rounds. Perimeter, back to your stations. The rest of you...I dunno, go make yourselves useful. If you want a piss, now’s the time, cause once we get to work, that’s it for the day.”
    The orcs nodded, grumbling as they got up and started leaving the table… though more than a few of them winced while doing so, looking to be moving just as stiffly as Murob was earlier, though they seemed to be taking great lengths not to show it. Melina could tell, though, they all were in varying states of discomfort… and by the number of empty flagons on the table, it wasn’t surprising. Only one stayed behind; a thicker orc with more pronounced hips wiggling to and fro and two twin braids running down her back. With a glower, she turned to Melina.

    “Well?” She sneered. “Clean this up, gorgeous.”

    Melina swallowed and nodded, immediately setting to collecting the spent flagons from the table.
    At this, Orla frowned, looking. “Khamina said these were your chores, Tarog…” She huffed. “You can’t just pawn them off on our guest.”
    Tarog snorted. “The hell I can’t…It’s been a while since we had a grunt around here...” She muttered, grinning as she popped Melina’s arse, causing the young girl to yelp. “Khamina said she’s supposed to help. She’s helpin’. If you wanna speed up the process, go right ahead, milkweed.” She muttered, flexing her shoulders. “I’m off teh take a slash n’ train. And you’d better do a damn good job, cause if I get in trouble, you get in trouble.” She growled at Melina before storming out of the mess hall.

    Melina said nothing, merely continuing to collect the flagons and trying not to let the orc’s words get to her.
    Orla sighed, shaking her head. “...I’m sorry, we really are an inconsiderate bunch…” She murmured.
    Melina shook her head. “It’s alright...the less time I have to spend around these louts, the better…” She grumbled. “Erm...present company excluded…”
    Orla smiled, feeling her way towards the table and beginning to help clear it off.
    They worked in silence for a few moments, clearing most everything off and rubbing down the tables before the door swung open, and in came Murob, back from her walk and looking decidedly worried; her meaty fists were clenched by her sides, her hips swaying to and fro.
    The orcess frowned, glaring around. “Where’d everyone go?”

    Orla looked up, her empty gaze rising. “Khamina dismissed them. They’ve gone to their duties for the day.”

    Murob’s eyes widened. “Have they!? Oh, thank Belok…” She hissed, hurriedly hoisting her tunic up and pushing a thick green hand into her crotch, gritting her teeth as she did so. “Fuck, I gotta piss…”

    Melina blinked, reddening as she realized what was going on.
    After a few moments, the woman sighed gently, apparently getting the urge under control. She grunted, sighing as she moved her clothes back into place before looking up at Melina. “Yeh aren’t gonna breathe a word of this.” She hissed threateningly before turning and stalking back out the door.

    Melina merely stared at the door, open-mouthed in shock, her cyan eyes wide as she looked back at Orla.

    “Did you-did she just-why did she-”

    Orla chuckled gently, raising her head towards Melina. “Like I told you...we’re an interesting folk…”

    Melina swallowed. “B-but she just-I mean she- a-and just out in the open…”

    Orla nodded. “Yeah, and it sounded like she really needed it....I’m sure you can relate...” she added with a grin.

    Melina set her jaw, slamming a flagon down and turning to Orla with hands on her hips. “Okay, what is this all about? And earlier, with those...those comments…” She muttered, reddening even more.

    Orla’s grin only widened. “It’s...a little odd…” She murmured. “Basically, they-

    “Oi!” Came a call from outside. “The match is startin’ Make sure all your bets are placed!”

    Melina blinked, looking over at Orla.

    The young sightless orc chuckled. “Providence...come on, this’ll be better than my explanation…”
    The two left the mess hall and emerged back into the main pavilion, where a crowd of orcs was forming around the center pitch.
    Melina and Orla came around and squeezed through a hole in the crowd towards the front, where they- or at least Melina - had a much better view.
    She could see that there were two orc women in the center, each stretching their arms and flexing their muscles in displays of intimidation. Both were nearly nude, save for long loincloths and scant fur bras that barely contained their sumptuous breasts. Both eyed each other with an intense competitiveness...and another emotion that Melina couldn’t quite place.
    The most curious thing, however, was how each of them was sporting a considerable, rotund bulge in their abdomens...hard prominent lumps nestled right over their crotches and stretching their jade skin in almost grotesque fashions.
    Melina frowned. “Erm… Orla…” She murmured. “Their stomachs…”

    Orla took a deep breath, nodding. “Remember what I told you about how the Kh’raven value strength? Well, I meant in all its forms. Not just being able to swing a sword or lift a tree trunk, but...fortitude. Willpower. The ability to control your body through any circumstance, even..extreme need to relieve oneself.”
    Melina blinked, slowly looking up at Orla. “The need to…?” She trailed off as a bell was struck and the two orc women crouched, beginning to circle one another.

    Orla nodded again. “It manifests everywhere, even in our sports. This is an Endurance Match...you and your opponent both relieve yourselves at dawn. Then, you wait all day and all night without peeing before meeting up on this pitch to wrestle the next day… first one to give in and soil herself loses, which is seen as an act of extreme dishonor.”

    Melina swallowed, feeling her head begin to swim. “So...t-they just...grapple each other and try not to pee?”

    Orla nodded. “More or less. There are rules, of course… no weapons, no gut punches, no scratching, all that...but beyond that, it’s simply a battle of wills. Anything goes.”

    Melina watched the two orcs flex their shoulders, still circling round and glaring each other down. “So...you all do this...for fun!?” She hissed incredulously.

    Orla’s grin returned. “Some do. It actually started as a rite of passage for becoming part of the guard, the toughest of us, and slowly it grew from there. Now it’s mostly a way to challenge for ranks, place bets, settle arguments… the more you can hold and the longer you can hold it, the more respect you get. Some say the Chief’ll go days without peeing, without even breaking a sweat.”

    Melina swallowed. “That sounds...erm, painful…” She murmured, though her eyes remained glued to the circling orc women.

    Orla nodded. “It certainly can be, but… to tell you the truth, some do grow to enjoy feeling their bladders stretch beyond their limits, swelling with urine for hours on end without the slightest intention of relieving that pressure…” She murmured, taking another deep breath.

    Just then, the orcs lunged for each other, prompting a cheer from the crowd as they grappled each other's shoulders. They snarled, both staggering around the pitch, muscles straining as they tried to force each other backwards.
    One of the orcs, lighter green and slightly taller, planted her feet, bearing down her arms on her shorter, darker opponent. This orc was forced to widen her stance in order to hold her ground, and one could see her thighs quivering as she fought both against her opponent and her straining bladder. She managed to break the grasp, staggering back and taking a deep breath, her whole body flexing as she tensed...it was clear she’d been seconds away from spurting, but she just barely held herself back.
    Melina reddened even further. It was all so...strange...Sure, it wasn’t as if Melina herself didn’t take pride in her prodigious bladder capacity, and, yes, perhaps some times she could have availed herself of the privy, she chose not to, but those were purely for reasons of convenience...right?

    “Does...does everyone participate in these, then?”

    Orla nodded. “For the most part. Khamina there’s the reigning champion.” She murmured, nodding to the guard captain on the other side of the pitch, arms crossed and gaze focused as she watched the two women grapple. “She hasn’t lost one challenge…”

    Melina frowned. “Wait, so...she’s the strongest?”
    Orla shrugged. “The strongest to be challenged. There’s still the Chief, of course, no one has dared challenge her in years...and even if they did, they’d lose. Even Khamina can’t outlast the Chief…And she’s tried.”

    Melina swallowed again, cheeks red and her head still a bit hazy as she turned back to the match. The taller orc had the shorter one in a headlock, forcing her to drop to one knee. Her powerful arms flexed as she tried to pry her opponent’s arm from around her neck, her face turning an even darker green as she struggled. The taller orc looped her other arm underneath the shorter one’s armpits in an attempt to force her hands up, but the slight shift in pressure was all the shorter orc needed. With a heavy grunt, she lurched forward with all her strength, pulling the taller orc off of her feet with a grunt and slamming her on her back before her. The taller orc yelped as she was flung, grunting as she hit the dirt and immediately arching her back, her thighs quivering as she barely managed to avoid losing the flood.
    The shorter orc was quick to capitalize on this reversal of fortune, grabbing her opponent’s arms and forcing them upwards above her head. Her legs then swung over the taller orc’s shoulders and down, snaking up under her thighs and forcing them apart so that she couldn’t close them if she wanted to. With a wicked grin, she reached down and began roughly massaging the taut bulge in the taller orc’s abdomen.

    Melina’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the poor orc woman’s distended bladder get rolled around and squeezed without there being a thing she could do about it. The taller orc thrashed and hissed, but what she had in height she lacked in physical strength, unable to break free of the shorter orc’s vice grip. And so, she simply lay there, writhing helpless as the shorter orc palpated her swollen bladder, forcing the urine down towards her weakening peehole. The entire crowd watched in fervid anticipation for the inevitable outcome, and within a few minutes, the taller orc’s muscles gave out. With a cry, a gout of urine sprayed high into the sky, twinkling radiantly in the sunlight as it arced through the air before splattering down noisily on the dirt, causing a cheer to go up from the crowd.

    The shorter orc released her still-peeing opponent, getting unsteadily to her feet and pumping a fist into the air, her own thighs defiantly spread even as they shook with the effort of holding her own urine in.
    Just then, Chief Urza held up her hand, and the crowd went silent. “Well fought, both of you… but Kasha, you’ve emerged the winner, and we all know what that means…” She trailed off with a grin.

    “VICTORY PISS! VICTORY PISS!” The crowd cried.

    The shorter orc grinned, haughtily pulling aside her own loincloth and letting lose her own waters into the dirt by the taller orc’s feet. The crowd cheered even harder for that, whooping and hollering and laughing as the victor’s stream began to run down and mix with the loser’s puddle. Melina swallowed, her face as red as ever as the orc took her victory lap, high-fiving and grasping forearms getting no small amount of friendly swats to her thick, gropable ass...possibly a few more than were necessary, seeing as soon as she got one, quite a few orcs pushed each other aside for a chance to spank the mound of jiggling green flesh.

    The taller orc was still on the ground, eyes fluttering as she positively flooded the pitch in her urine...no one seemed to be paying her any mind; or rather, they were going to great lengths not to.

    Finally, the victorious orc got round to Khamina, who grinned and clapped her on the back. “Fuckin’ superb, Kasha…” She chuckled, her eyes quickly moving down to trace over the orc woman’s voluptuous form. “Didn’t know if you were gonna pull it out for a second there, Mazog looked like she had you…”
    The Orc Kasha grinned, cackling herself. “Fuckin’ nearly did...thought I was a goner when she got her hand on me neck, and I could feel her b- erm, well, I thought she had me.” She finished, chuckling again.
    Just then, another orc emerged next to Khamina...this one a fair bit taller, and dressed in an interleaved leather tunic and calf-high leather boots. Her pauldrons were silver, shining in the light, and her loincloth nearly reached the ground.
    “Most impressive.” Chief Urza murmured, grinning down at the orc. Immediately, Kasha bowed her head, a fist over her heart. “Ah, C-Chief!” She exclaimed. “I, uh...didn’t know you were watching…”

    The Chief chuckled drily. “Well, I didn’t want to put any undue pressure on you… but I do greatly enjoy these matches, and you both performed beautifully...shame Mazog couldn’t pull it out…” She muttered, casting a disdainful glance towards the orc still on the ground.

    Khamina and Kasha both turned towards Mazog, frowning piteously.
    Chief Urza strode past them, over to the fallen orc. “Get up and go get cleaned up.” She said shortly before moving on. Kasha strode up after her, looking down at her opponent and offering a hand. “Yeh gave me a helluva fight…”

    Mazog swallowed, her cheeks dark green with humiliation as she looked up at Kasha. “Hmph…” She muttered, but she took the hand anyway, and was hoisted up.

    Mazog swallowed again, looking away. “Thanks…”
    Kasha nodded, turning back towards the pitch and moving to receive more adulation...though one could see her rump swaying this way and that as she felt Mazog’s gaze on it.

    Melina felt a hand on her shoulder as Orla turned towards her. “Come on… let’s get back to the hut, don’t wanna be hanging around here…” The young blonde nodded, her eyes tracing over the orcs who were busy chatting with one another, all bearing the same strange tension in their faces. Best go while they were preoccupied.

    As the pair made their way away from the pitch, Orla sighed gently, turning to Melina. “So...now you know about our...strange fascinations…” She chuckled.

    Melina nodded, though her cheeks were still red. “I didn’t think you were serious…” She murmured. “It all seems so odd, a-and...a little...I dunno, lewd…”

    Orla bit her lip, her own cheeks coloring. “Well, actually, we-”

    “And where do you think you’re going?” Said a voice from behind her. Melina whirled around to find herself staring at a well muscled midriff, her eyes trailing upward past those mountainous breasts to the leering face of Malash.

    Next to her was the victorious orc Kasha, peering at Melina with curiosity.

    Orla immediately bowed her head, her fist over her chest in a similar manner to what Kasha had done. “Excuse us, Malash, we were just returning to our quarters…
    The orcess chuckled wickedly. “Perhaps you are, but there’s work to be done for our new pet…” She said, turning her smug grin on Melina.

    Melina swallowed, glaring up at the woman defiantly. “What do you want?”

    Malash’s grin widened. “I’d watch that tone of yours, meat… ya might notice Khamina isn’t here to keep me from bashing your head in.”

    Melina swallowed, burying her anger down as she lowered her head. “Sorry…” She muttered.

    Malash chuckled and nodded. “Yeah...that’s more like it. You’re here to help clean up, right? Well, Kasha here happens to be on her way to the shower stalls and in need of your services, isn’t that right?” She said, looking over at her fellow orcish warrior.

    Slowly, Kasha’s face split into a grin. “I reckon I do…” She said, turning a lascivious eye on Melina.

    Melina’s face paled as she thought about the implications of the woman’s words. “Y-you can’t be serious…” She muttered.

    Malash’s smirk soured into a sneer. “Don’t recall askin’ for your opinion, meat…” She huffed. “You gonna come quietly or do I need t’ go to the Chief? Sure she’d love to hear about you refusin’ a direct order from yer betters…”

    Melina set her jaw, but she didn’t argue.
    “You heard her, humie. Let’s go.” She said, grabbing Melina’s arm and beginning to pull her away. The poor girl cast one more mortified look at Orla as she was pulled away.

    She was half-led, half-dragged to a stable-like building, unsurprisingly made of wood like every other one. Kasha pushed the door open, revealing a row of stalls separated by wooden partitions, each equipped with a large wooden bucket. Kasha grabbed it and tossed it back at Melina

    “Go fill that with water, and be quick about it.” Kasha growled.

    Melina caught the bucket, looking at it before looking back at the woman. “I...I don’t know where to go…” She murmured.

    Kasha turned, glaring at her. “The fuckin’ well out back, do I have to spell everything out for you? Don’t make me wait, or you’ll regret it.” She hissed.

    Swallowing, Melina did as she was told, hurrying back out and around the other side of the building, where indeed there was a cobblestone well reaching into the ground. She quickly fastened the bucket to the clasps on the rope and began lowering it down.

    She could hardly believe her rotten luck… not even a day here and she was gonna be forced to wash a smelly orc...she should never have gone on that stupid expedition…

    She fetched the water and promptly returned to the stall, not keen on getting in any more trouble than she might be.

    As she entered, her cheeks reddened upon finding Kasha completely nude, her strong thighs undulating as she bent over to remove her ankle wrappings and flashing her shapely rear as she did.

    As she turned round, she smirked at Melina. She put a hand on her hip, the verdant orbs on her chest jiggling lightly as she did so. “Yeah, drink it in. Reckon yeh probably haven’t seen a real woman before. Now get over here, I’m tired of smellin’ like a barn.”

    Melina swallowed, shuffling forward with the bucket.

    “Woah, what d’you think yer doing?” Kasha huffed. “Yeh don’t bathe with clothes on, do you?” She asked, smirking as her eyes bored into Melina’s.

    Melina looked up, her cheeks coloring yet again. “I...B-but I-”

    Kasha’s grin widened. “Take ‘em off. Wouldn’t want yeh getting wet…” She breathed, her tongue tracing along her tusks.

    Melina wanted to protest, but she knew it would be a bad idea to do so. She swallowed one more time, taking a deep breath.
    Slowly, she set the bucket down and shakily grabbed the corners of her tunic, pulling it up and over her pale, smooth torso and, compared to the orc, relatively diminutive chest.

    Next, she kicked off her boots and undid the strings of her trousers and lowered them over her rear and down her milky thighs, trying to ignore Kasha’s eyes roving ravenously over her naked form.

    Feeling quite exposed and acutely vulnerable, she picked up the bucket and shuffled into the stall.

    Kasha snorted. “What are you waitin’ for? Pour it on me…” She muttered, lifting her arms to clasp above her head.

    Melina swallowed again, moving forward and beginning to slowly pour the water over the orc’s body, trying to keep her eyes away.

    “Ah, much better…” The orc cackled, leering down at Melina. “Now...wipe me down.” She said, grabbing a rag off the hook on the side of the stall and handing it to her.

    Melina swallowed once more; she’d been afraid of this. She took the rag with shaky hands, beginning to gently dab at the woman’s torso with slow, light strokes, her eyes shut tight.

    “Oi, we don’t have all day!” Kasha barked. “I said, WIPE!” She said, grabbing the girl’s wrist and forcing her hand to her midriff.

    Melina yelped in surprise and pain as she was bent to the orc’s will, acquiescing to the demand and beginning to wipe in more attentive circles.

    “Hmph...better.” The Orc woman muttered. “Now me chest…” She put her hands on her hips, arching her back to thrust her breasts towards Melina.

    The young blonde took another deep breath, slowly beginning to dry off the smooth, rounded orbs… they were softer than she’d anticipated, and warm to the touch...even under the rag Melina could feel the outline of the nipple, gently stiffening under her ministrations...and with a pang of mortification, she felt her own responding in kind.

    “Yeah...now me thighs…” The orc grumbled, her voice taking on a bit of a husky edge. Melina obliged, swiftly moving down to the woman’s thick, powerful thighs in an attempt to get this done quickly as possible.

    She slowed as her wiping traced higher, higher…

    She felt the orc shudder as she neared her crotch. “Hnn...I didn’t tell yeh t’ stop…” The orc growled huskily. “And I’m gettin’ tired of telling yeh t’get on with it…” She muttered, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.

    Melina took another deep breath, tracing up the last few inches.

    A deep hiss escaped Kasha’s throat as Melina’s hand made contact with her core...it was even warmer to the touch than the rest of her body.

    “Spend a little extra time here...it’s the dirtiest part, after all…” Kasha breathed.

    Melina pursed her lips and did as she was asked, slowly moving her rag-clad hand back and forth a few times. Kasha’s breath got heavier, her snorts getting more and more frequent. “Yeah...yeah, keep goin’...be thorough…”

    Melina continued to wipe back and forth across the searing mons...until, suddenly, she began to feel a dampness on the rag as Kasha’s voice began to raise in tone, getting almost girlish.

    “Hnnn...y-you’re almost done…” She growled, slowly bucking her hips into Melina’s hand as she raised a meaty hand to massage a giant green teat.

    Melina merely squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for this charade to end….and after a few more moments, she felt Kasha’s body seize up...and suddenly her hand was covered with an effusion of musky liquid, soaking through the fabric and staining her fingers.

    She quickly dropped the rag and pulled her hand away, taking a deep shuddering breath.

    Kasha let out a low groan, ending with a chuckle. “Ahhhh-hah-ha-hahnnn...yeah, that’s the stuff...ain’t been properly ‘cleaned’ in ages…” She chuckled, grinning down at Melina. “Yer done here. Get yer clothes back on and fuck off.” She said, grabbing a towel and beginning to dab at her arms.

    Melina didn’t need telling twice, hurriedly grabbing her clothes with her clean hand and hurrying out of the stall. She struggled to pull her clothes on with one hand, breathing heavily as she tried not to feel thoroughly unsullied. Even more unsettling was the throbbing in her own chest, and...other areas… even the scent of Kasha’s juices on her hand was making her head swim, tinging with desire… she needed to get away from here, and fast.

    ~~~~~

    “Ah...sorry, I should’ve warned you…” Orla murmured as she and Melina made their way back to the mess hall to see about cleaning after dinner

    Melina swallowed, her cheeks reddening. “It’s fine...It’s over now…”

    Orla turned to the girl with a sympathetic expression on her face. “I know it’s not much consolation, but...she must’ve been really pent up…”

    Melina frowned. “What do you mean?”

    Orla pursed her lips. “The Kh’raven are...kind of traditional, let’s say. Sure, we’re a bunch of lawless wastrels, but we still have some cultural precepts that we adhere to… one of which is a strict ban on sexual activity outside of marriage in the eyes of Belok.” She murmured. “And since all the men are at war, everyone’s been… well, unsatisfied. Some of them manage, and other try to cheat, like Kasha. In fact, the Endurance Match used to be no-contact, until someone figured out a wrestling match was an excuse to grope each other.”

    Melina listened intently to Orla’s speech, feeling herself redden again. “So...everyone’s married, and...that’s it?”

    Orla chuckled. “Well, everyone but me. Most orc men aren’t keen on a blind weakling like me, they’d rather have a strong warrior to bear their children. It’s all the same to me, most of those men are...not my type.” She murmured, continuing to stir.

    Melina’s eyes flicked up, her ears perking up as the same words she’d uttered to Priscilla came back around. “Oh…” She murmured, her heart thudding a bit more. “I...I see…”

    Orla turned, a wan smile on her face. “Does this bother you? I understand humans are similarly inclined…”

    Melina swallowed. “Oh, erm, yeah...I-I mean no… o-or well, they are, but, uh...I’m...not.” She finished.

    Orla blinked, seeming a bit surprised herself. “Oh? Well that’s...nice…” She murmured, turning back to her cauldron with a bit of coloring on her cheeks.

    They strode in silence the rest of the time, both pondering the other’s words.

    “OI! Milkweed!” Called a voice. Melina and Orla both looked up to see an orc hailing them from the mess hall. “Hurry it up, bout to have a river a-flowin’!”

    Melina and Orla both looked at each other before hurrying towards the building, and what as sight it was when they entered.

    All around them were orc women in states of extreme duress, hunched over tables and wiggling their arses in the air or leaning against walls and sliding up and down, thick green thighs twisted up around each other. Vests and leather breastplates lain strewn all over the ground, and trousers were loosened to accommodate the massive bulge every orc was sporting in their abdomens.

    In the center of the room stood Malash, gripping the side of the table so hard her knuckles turned white as she snorted repeatedly. A single bead of sweat ran down the bridge of her nose and onto her tusks and she tensed her hips back and forth, her teeth grinding against one another.

    Across from her was Murob, the orc from earlier...she looked to be in an even worse state, sat on the bench and rocking back and forth. Her face was twisted up in agony as she fought with everything in her not to gush all over the ground, her rounded abdomen distended so heavily it looked as though she were pregnant.

    Melina felt her heart leap into her throat, her eyes fluttering as her brain swam with so much arousal she was nearly seeing stars.

    “Y-you perimeter guards got nothin’ on us…” Malash hissed through gritted teeth, glaring across at Murob. “Yeh best...best give up…”

    Murob threw her head back for a moment, her left thigh bouncing up and down as she took a series of short gasps. “N-never…” She groaned. “We can...go all night if we need to… though I take it you and your band of merry scouts aren’t gonna last the hour…”

    Malash shivered, squeezing her thighs together and banging a fist on the table as she groaned through her pain. Both orcish women were clearly on the verge of flooding their tunics, yet neither would concede.

    Melina looked over at Orla, eyes fixated on nothing...and yet the demure little alchemist was breathing a bit heavily, her ears twitching as they took in the heady groans and grunts and grumbles of desperation from around her...one could almost hear the sheer volume of liquid currently straining every orc bladder past it’s limits.

    For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of sweaty orc bodies writhing as they vainly fought the urge to obey their bodies’ desperate pleas to ease their overburdened bladders...and suddenly, there was a break.

    A dusky-skinned orc with arms bigger than tree-trunks cried out as she braced against the wall, shuddering as her control broke and a veritable torrent of urine came streaming out from beneath her tunic, splattering noisily on the ground beneath her. The sound of their sword-sister violently relieving herself seemed too much for the other orcs, and within moments there was another strangled cry and another deluge of pee blasting the dusty floor.

    As if a domino effect had been set off, willpower all around gave out, filling the mess hall with the cacophonous chorus of draining bladders and guttural groans of relief. The task now became not to see who could hold it the longest, but who could surrender to the pressure with the least collateral damage. The first few simply gave up and flooded themselves where they stood or sat, shivering in euphoric relief. Others with a bit more control managed to squat or go spread-eagled, taking what little aim they could manage as gouts of dark piss jetted from their tortured sphincters. The strongest orcs had managed to stagger away to corners or doorways, feverishly clawing their loincloths out of the way before allowing themselves to finally pour out their bladders against support beams or on the grass, salvaging their clothes as they were at last able to get the explosive relief they craved.

    Finally, it came down to the leaders; only Murob and Malash continued to deny themselves what their respective underlings were allowing themselves; a great, gushing, glorious piss…. But it was clear it was a narrow victory.

    Murob’s entire body trembled, her eyes fluttering and her tusken jaw slack with euphoria as she pulled aside her loincloth and hosed down the ground in a thick stream that looked more like someone had punctured the side of an ale barrel than a woman relieving herself. Malash wasn’t far behind, having lifted her leg against the wall and soaking the baseboards for all she was worth, growling in pleasured release.
    For a few minutes, there was nothing but the noisy splattering of orc urine on dirt as both women poured out what seemed to be a whole lake’’s worth of piss. Melina was mortified...and yet, she couldn’t look away, from the orc’s partially exposed body and tilted hips to her look of near-orgasmic relief...
    Finally, the flow diminished, and Malash shook her hips to rid herself of the last few drops, panting deeply.
    “Hah...hah...nn, humie…” She grunted, glaring at Melina. “Best get yer little washcloth ready…”

    Melina swallowed, her eyes flitting at the least a dozen orcs all currently dripping with their own piss.

    Moments later, she was back in the cleaning stalls...and apparently, Kasha had been liberal with her recounting of her experience, because nearly every orc insisted that Melina “personally attend” them as well. As the latest orc grunted, creaming herself on Melina’s fingers, the young girl was quite randy herself now, her face a permanent shade of red.

    After cleaning herself up, Melina returned to Orla’s hut, her breath still a bit ragged after the endless parade of muscular, verdant green amazon bodies. Orla was busy cleaning, a stack of soaked loincloths beside her.

    “Well, that was surely something…” Orla murmured.

    Melina swallowed. “I...don’t wanna talk about it…” She muttered. It had gone far beyond revulsion...she was...aroused. There was no other word for it. Cleaning those big, beautiful orc women had gotten to her...and that made her feel dirty. “I’ve...never done things like that before today, and now…” She muttered, reddening again.

    Orla frowned. “Really? Never? Is there not ...someone special, back in the human village?”

    Melina swallowed. “Not really, no. I...well, there’s my best friend, Priscilla, but...we’re just that. Friends. I’ve never done anything with her. And I’m okay with that, really.”

    Orla pursed her lips. “You miss her…”

    Melina swallowed. “...I do...and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again…” She murmured, feeling her eyes water as she stared at the table.

    Orla continued to stir, her eyes gazing emptily ahead.

    “...You will.” she said finally, turning around.

    Melina sighed. “I know, I get to leave in the fall, but I don’t know if-”

    “No.” Orla murmured, setting her jaw resolutely. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

    Melina looked up, frowning. “How? I don’t know where I am, and it’s not like we’d even make it out of the compound…”

    Orla swallowed. “You can if the guard escorts you. And they’ll have to, if the Chief orders it.”

    Melina blinked. “Why would she do that?”

    Orla took a deep breath. “Because you’re going to challenge her to an Endurance Match. If you win, she’ll be forced to free you.”

    Melina merely stared at Orla. “Surely you can’t be serious...No one can beat the Chief, you said so yourself…”

    Orla leveled her gaze. “There is a way. It’s dangerous, and you’ll still be plenty bursting by the time it’s over, but… you can win.”

    Melina looked up into Orla’s gaze. She looked sure of herself, and more serious than Melina had ever seen her.

    With a swallow, she nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

    TO BE CONTINUED...
  7. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    DISCLAIMER: Bit of a "dryer" (heh) chapter in comparison to the last one, but still important, and it sets up the final chapter to be posted next!

    CW: FUTA. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THAT, DO NOT CONTINUE PAST THIS POINT. I WARNED YE.

    CHAPTER 4: The Wager

     Melina blew a piece of flaxen hair out of her eye as she moved around the entrance to the weapons’ hut, thatched broom in hand, sweeping away stray bits of straw and debris from around the shed as Khamina, the guard captain sat by a whetstone, meticulously sharpening the edge of her battle axe.

    After a little more than a week’s worth of menial tasks for the orcs, the girl had changed somewhat in appearance. Her clothes consisted of little more than her roughspun trousers, boots and a sleeveless tunic with bindings around her chest to keep the rough material of her tunic from rubbing her breasts raw. She’d also fallen into somewhat of a routine; Each morning she’d have breakfast with Orla, then it was off immediately to the dining hall to clean up after the perimeter guard’s morning meal. She’d since mixed a tincture of limewort and saphroot which, when added to water, created a solution that practically neutralized all manner of germ and foodstuff on the dishes, leaving them ‘sparklier than an elf-whore’s nipple-studs’, according to Khamina. In the afternoon she’d avail herself of whatever chores the Chief assigned to her; sometimes she’d be back in Orla’s hut helping her mend torn britches and boots, or on days where there was an Endurance Match, throwing fresh water on the inevitable pools of urine on the battle pitch and covering it with fresh, clean dirt. Luckily, Urza had caught wind of the “special attention” the winners of these matches were getting, and the increased scrutiny made it so the orcs no longer propositioned the human serving girl for some after-battle “relief”. However, that didn’t mean she herself didn’t let her hands linger in places they maybe shouldn’t, the tiniest of smirks on her face at every twitch, snort and coo she was able to elicit when she prodded the right spot. Being the smallest and weakest person in the camp, it gave Melina a great deal of satisfaction to know she had some small power over these jade-skinned amazons...and she couldn’t deny the heat in her own core watching these broad-shouldered behemoths shudder in time with her ministrations.

    In the evening she’d make her rounds through the perimeter guard, bringing them food if they were on the transition shift, and then back to chores while the rest of the camp was on leisure. The orcs had seemingly gotten used to Melina’s presence, and while they certainly weren’t all the way to hospitable, they were much less deliberately unkind as when she’d first arrived. Some of them had even engaged her in conversation; Khamina would always acknowledge her on her way out of the compound for scouting, as would Ognild and Ghora. With them gone, the camp was left to the eye of the perimeter guard for vigilance and protection.

    This particular part of the day had been crucial to the plan she and Orla had come up with.

    If Melina was going to win the match, she was going to need any advantage...or rather, her opponent was going to need a disadvantage. Orla explained that there was a fungus that grew in a patch not far from her called lumencap, and that it acted as a natural diuretic for orcs...one that worked extremely fast given orc-kind’s ridiculously fast metabolisms. Melina had found the revelation almost ironic given how she’d gotten into this mess, but the knowledge that she was already familiar with the reagent made her more confident. Every night, while everyone else slept, Melina and Orla would sneak out of the compound, underneath two rotted logs at the end of the wall near Orla’s hut, which conveniently lay in a blind spot for the guard towers. Orla led, since it was too risky to light a fire and her blindness meant she could navigate just as well in the dark as she could in the light.
    When they got to the patch, the two of them would immediately get to work, filling their sacks with as much lumencap as they could before hightailing it back to the compound. They’d been doing this for the past several nights, and Melina had to admire Orla’s deftness in moving through the forest despite her handicap; they’d never once come close to being caught. In fact, according to Orla, they only need a couple more sacks of the stuff before they were ready for the next phase of their plan.

    She was shocked out of her idle thoughts as her absentminded sweeping took her in the path of a stone, which she promptly tripped over.

    “Careful there, man-cub....” Khamina grunted offhand as she lifted the axe to inspect her work. Melina righted herself immediately, reddening a bit and getting back to her sweeping.

    “Dammit, edge keeps chipping…” Khamina grunted, frowning down at the blade in displeasure. Melina looked up at the miniscule chinks in the edge of the axe, and then at the orc herself. “You’re not doing it right…” She murmured.

    Khamina looked up with equal parts annoyance and surprise, her lips curling over her tusks. “Fuck yeh mean, I’m ‘not doin’ it right’? I’m Captain o’ the guard, I been sharpenin’ me axe years before yeh got here, humie.” She grunted.

    Melina pursed her lips, but she was undeterred. “The blade’s iron, isn’t it? Iron’s softer than steel, you need to apply less weight on the whetstone if you want the edge to be even.”

    Khamina frowned, looking down at her blade and then up at Melina again with confusion. “Yeah? And how does a scrawny little thing like you know anythin’ about weapons?” She huffed, peering down at the girl curiously.

    Melina went back to sweeping. “Back home my father was a blacksmith. He supplied the weapons to our local militia, and he’d bring me to the shop sometimes while mother was away on her seamstress work.”

    Khamina grunted, looking back down at her weapon. Her eyes flitted briefly to Melina before she began honing the edge of the axe again...this time with a significantly lighter touch.

    As Melina continued to sweep, she’d hear a grumble behind her. “Hmph...not bad, humie…” Khamina muttered as she held the axe aloft, looking at it with grudging admiration.

    Melina smiled to herself as she continued to sweep, the praise from the orcess being no less satisfying for it having been reluctant. “I’m glad I could help.” She murmured. “Word is you’ve got a match tomorrow…”
    Khamina snorted. “‘S’right. Against Malash. My mead’s been disappearin’, and I fuckin’ know it’s her. She keeps denying it, even when I can smell it right on her breath.”

    Melina’s face darkened somewhat at the mention of Malash. Out of all the orcs in the village, Malash was the only one Melina actively disliked. Ever since Khamina’d kept Malash from harassing her, the dusky green orcess had had it in for Melina, tripping her whenever they passed by one another, “accidentally” spilling mead down Melina’s front...she’d even pulled her loin cloth aside to let go a boiling gout of piss on a spot of the floor Melina had just finished cleaning, and forced her to start over with a cackle.

    “Hmph...she probably did. Arrogant green bitch…” Melina muttered, prompting a whistle from Khamina.

    “Got some stones on you, man-cub, better not let her catch yeh sayin’ that…”

    A thrill of fear went through Melina as she realized she might’ve just gotten herself in trouble, but as she turned towards Khamina, she realized the guard captain was smirking. “Yeah, she gets on my fuckin’ nerves too, but she’s not a bad sort, really. She’s just a bastard.” She murmured, shrugging.

    In spite of herself, Melina chuckled… Khamina was probably the only orc besides Orla that Melina felt was on her side, somewhat. She stood to full height, stretching her back a bit from being hunched over sweeping. “Nng, well...bastard or not, I feel bad for her… I’ve heard no one’s ever beaten you in an Endurance Match before…”

    Khamina smirked, rolling her shoulders back. “You’re damn right. I’m the fuckin’ best there is, ‘cept for the Chief… Hope Malash enjoyed my mead, cause I’m gonna make her spray the dirt with it.” She blustered confidently, holding up an arm and flexing a bicep proudly. Melina chuckled again, though her face was a bit red from the display...Khamina was, in truth, quite fetching for a hulking warrior.

    “And not just strong, but...here, c’mere…” The guard captain beckoned Melina over with a crooked finger. The girl frowned, intrigued, setting down her broom and doing as Khamina asked. The orc glanced around to see that no one was watching, she swung her hips around and stretched upwards.

    Melina’s eyes bulged out of her head as Khamina revealed a bulge in her abdomen that Melina had seen on some women back in her village when they were days away from giving birth. She’d never seen such a rotund protrusion being owed to a bladder before, but the skin around it was taut and stretched so thin Melina could all but hear the ocean of urine churning inside of it.

    Khamina grinned at the awe clearly displayed on the girl’s face, obviously quite proud of the reaction she was able to elicit. “Two days, and not a drop missing. Malash’s ass is going in the dirt.” She boasted, snorting around her tusks.

    Melina continued to stare, transfixed, at the quivering protrusion in the orc’s abdomen, her cheeks colored and her eyes somewhat glazed over. Khamina’s grin widened. “Heh...wanna feel it?”

    Melina’s eyes looked up into the smirking captain’s for a moment, and there was hardly a moment of hesitation before she reached out, her hand running against the taut green flesh. “...Goodness…” She breathed. She’d seen impressive bulges on the orcs before, but feeling one pulsating beneath her fingers…

    She swallowed, her cheeks darkening even more. Khamina’s lips pulled back over her teeth as her grin widened even more, reveling in the attention and seemingly unbothered by the hand running over the sensitive surface of her stretched bladder...though one could see the hitches in her breath as the girl prodded at it. Melina actually found herself unable to pull away; if the Guard Captain could be this full and show little to no signs of struggle, what chance would she have against the Chief? Orla had better have some plan…

    “Oi!” Called a familiar voice from behind them, causing Melina to quickly pull her hand away and resume sweeping as Khamina picked her axe once more.

    Malash sauntered up to the pair, looking just as grumpy and foul-tempered as ever. Khamina looked up at her, snorting as she set the axe back to the grindstone.

    “Khamina, it’s nearly time for the guard to start rounds.” The orc said, looking her captain in the eye.

    Khamina continued to sharpen her weapon, her gaze not leaving Malash’s. “I’m th’ captain, I know what time it is.”

    Malash scowled. “So? Shouldn’t we be gettin’ on? Night’s nearly upon us’...” She muttered, pointing towards the northern end of the camp where the sun was hurriedly approaching the horizon.

    Khamina huffed. “I’m the Captain, and we’ll leave when I say we leave.” She replied, a dangerous edge in her voice as she raised her glance towards her subordinate.

    Malash snorted, her scowl deepening, but she didn’t dare contradict her superior...at least, not openly. Frustrated, she turned her gaze on Melina, still sweeping. “Oi, humie. You missed a spot... “ She huffed as she purposely kicked dust up into Melina’s face, causing her to cough and sputter as she tried to wipe the dirt out of her eyes.

    Malash grinned, kicking away the girl’s broom and causing her to tumble to the ground with a chuckle. “Little pink weakling…” She sneered.

    “Malash, that’s enough.” Khamina huffed, now glaring at the orcess.

    Malash’s grin dissipated immediately, and she glowered up at the Captain. “Oi, what’s your problem? Ever since the humie got here you been treatin’ her like she’s yer pet or somethin’.”

    Khamina set her jaw. “She’s workin’. All you’re doing is hinderin’ that.”

    Malash crossed her arms. “I don’t think so, Captain, I think you’re gettin’ soft on us.”

    At that, Khamina rose to full height, corpulent bladder and all. “And I think you need to watch who yer fuckin’ talking to, Malash.” She hissed, her face contorted in such a fury that it would likely give even the staunchest men nightmares.

    Malash refused to back down now, though, even as Khamina got right up in her face, being a good two inches taller. “Hmph, maybe I’ll tell the Chief you’re gettin’ a little too attached to the meat…” She growled. “Maybe th’ guard needs a change in leadership…”

    At that, Khamina lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Malash’s tunic and yanking her in with a fierce tug.

    Melina watched from the sidelines, eyes still watering and heart beating as the two orc women glared at each other, anger and loathing on their faces, but...also something else...a deeper emotion Melina couldn’t quite parse through. Khamina’s eyes narrowed. “If yeh fuckin’ got something to say t’me, Malash…” She hissed in a dangerously low whisper. “...I’d be sayin’ it. I’m already putting your ass in the dirt for drinking my mead, yeh really wanna challenge me for the helm too? After what happened last time?” She snarled, her shoulders flexing menacingly.

    Malash’s sneer persisted, but it seemed the threat was enough to make it so she decided to eat the loss.

    “...No…” She grumbled, lowering her head even as her fists clenched by her side.

    Khamina snorted again, backing up. “I thought so. Now get out of my fuckin’ sight.” She hissed, shoving the orcess away.

    Malash set her jaw, still seething, but she did as she was asked, turning and stalking away.

    Melina released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, looking back at Khamina. “...Wow... “ She breathed.

    Khamina grunted. “Like I said…'' She muttered, her eyes glued to Malash’s retreating form. “A bastard.”
    She hefted her axe, looking down at Melina. “You’re done here. Go on back to yer quarters.”

    Melina nodded, scrambling up and fetching a broom, swallowing with a newly-rekindled fear of the orc captain. “Yes ma’am…” she muttered, turning and scurrying in the direction of Orla’s hut.
    Khamina watched her go for a moment before taking a deep shuddering breath, reaching a big, meaty hand between her thighs and squeezing. “Fuck, that was close…” She hissed to herself.

    Melina didn’t stop running all the way to Orla’s hut, her heart pounding in her chest and her legs feeling like jelly.

    As she reached the small abode, she didn’t slow down, throwing open the door and dashing inside before slamming it shut behind her, still breathing heavily.

    Orla looked up from the knife she was sharpening, frowning. “Melina?” She murmured, her sightless eyes turning in the direction of the girl’s heavy breathing. “What’s the matter?”

    Melina continued to pant for a few more moments as she struggled to catch her breath, bits of hair sticking up at odd angles as she leaned against the door frame.

    She swallowed, looking up at Orla. “I...Malash came by while I was sweeping up axe shavings around Captain Khamina...I-I think Malash was trying to challenge her for control of the guard…”

    Orla blinked and rolled her eyes, going back to her tincture. “Oh, those two again… it’s all bluster, Malash isn’t actually going to do anything...especially not after last time…”

    Melina pushed off of the door, rubbing her legs. “Captain Khamina said something similar, what...happened?” The girl asked, glancing at the small window above the table to make sure no one was coming.

    Orla scoffed. “Back when Khamina first became Captain, Malash was the one she beat out. Malash never really got over that, even though she lost fair and square… but she decided to challenge Khamina again anyway. That was the first time wrestling was introduced… they were going at it for ages, neither giving in, even though you could tell they were both bursting… finally, Khamina managed to get Malash in a headlock, squeezed so hard she fainted...you can probably figure out what happened next.”

    Melina swallowed. She could almost see in her mind’s eye, Malash’s body going limp as pee gushed from her quivering sphincter, splashing her legs and soaking the ground.
    “...Wow…” Melina murmured.

    Orla nodded. “Malash was humiliated. It was all anybody talked about for weeks… and to be honest, Khamina was kind of arrogant about it. Got to the point where a few of the orcs even thought maybe Malash wasn’t guard material, but Khamina vouched for her. Said it was a hard-won fight, and that Malash was still a capable warrior. Still, didn’t make Malash any less bitter, or Khamina any less of a blowhard.”

    Melina frowned, looking at the ground. To suffer such an acute humiliation at the hands of another, and then be forced to serve under them...no wonder Malash was so unpleasant.
    “So...they’ve hated each other since?”

    At this, Orla chuckled. “The opposite, actually. Khamina says a bunch of shit to get a rise out of Malash, and Malash goes out of her way to be a thorn in the Captain’s side, but they both are just concealing the fact that they wanna fuck each other’s brains out.”

    Melina’s eyes widened, her cheeks darkening even more. “I-they-huh?” She gulped.

    Orla’s cheeks darkened as she continued to whet her knife. “When you get as good hearing as me, you can pick up on these things. Whenever they yell at each other, you know it’s only by Urza’s rule they aren’t tearing each other’s clothes off.”

    Melina swallowed, an image of the two orcs locked in a passionate, sweaty embrace, growling as they clawed at each other's bodies rose unbidden in her mind. She flushed a bit, fidgeting a bit on the spot. “W-well, erm...okay, I guess if they don’t really mean to hurt each other…”

    Orla shook her head. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway…” She smirked. “Now, down to business.” She murmured, coming from around the table. “Night’s coming fast...we’ve almost got enough lumencap for the job...one more jaunt should do it.”

    Melina nodded. “And you’re sure she won’t taste it?”

    Orla snorted. “Ever been around the Chief drinking mead? I don’t even think it touches her tongue.” she murmured, going back to sharpening the knife.

    Melina nodded, but she still looked somewhat dubious. “Still if discretion is our friend, I don’t see why we need to take all this risk...we’ve got nearly a full harvest’s worth…”

    Orla continued to sharpen away. “To make certain she controls the match, the Chief will most likely only drink from her personal stores of ale and mead… We don’t know which one she’ll use, so we’ll need enough to spread across all the barrels to make sure she’s fully saturated.”  She said matter-of-factly.

    Melina nodded, exhaling gently through her nose. “Alright. Just a few hours to nightfall, and we’ll retrieve the last bunch.”

    And so, like the days before, the two girls waited until the sun had long since vanished and the moon was ascending into the sky to make their move. They each pulled on roughhide boots to mitigate unwanted noise, grabbed a knife and slung their packs over their shoulders before pushing the door open and quietly hurrying out into the night.

    The evening was cool and clear, with a few clouds scurrying across the sky. Orla and Melina quickly made their way over to the same spot in the wall, pushing the logs out and crawling through the opening. As usual, Orla needed a little more time; they had to make the hole a tight fit to avoid making it too conspicuous, resulting in a tight squeeze for the diminutive but still larger-than-human orc girl.

    They waited for the perimeter guard to pass their position, and then raced on fleet-feet towards the cover of the woods, not stopping until they were certain the leafy canopy shielded them from the light of the full moon.

    Orla led them down the familiar path, and within moments Melina could see the lumencap patch, it’s silvery blue glow greatly diminished with how much they’d been taking from it.

    “Not a lot left…” Melina whispered as she knelt in the damp soil and drew her knife.

    “Then we take what’s there.” Orla whispered back, drawing her own knife.

    The two made short work of the remainder of the patch, slicing the mushrooms at the stem and tossing them into their packs. After roughly a half hour, the log was cleared and Melina stood, wiping a bit of sweat off her brow. “Okay, that’s it...let’s get-”
    She stopped as she heard voices in the distance. Orla sat up, obviously having heard them too.

    They were still somewhat far off, but Melina could recognize the throaty alto of Khamina, and the gruff bark of Malash.

    It was the guard… back early.

    Melina and Orla both turned to each other, fear expressed in both seeing and blind eyes. They both scrambled to their feet and after taking hands, ran as fast as the darkness would allow back to the compound, but just as they burst through the treeline, they could see torchlight ahead as the scout guard approached, Khamina and Malash bickering and Ghora and Ognild behind them looking quite annoyed.
    The pair ducked back behind the trees as they passed by, Melina’s heart hammering so fast in her chest she thought it might burst.

    Finally, the troupe passed through onto the gate, and Melina and Orla took off towards the breach in the encampment, wiggling back inside and practically sprinting into the hut. They slammed the door behind them, immediately doubling over as they both tried to catch their breath.

    After a few minutes of panting, Melina managed to pull herself upright, looking at Orla. A moment later, Orla did the same. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing, great bellowing guffaws that filled the hut with mirth and the release of nervous energy.

    “Ha ha ha Eoth’s bollocks, I thought we were done for…ha...” Melina wheezed, holding her side.

    Orla had slumped down into her chair. “Tell...tell me about it…hehe... I couldn’t even see where they were…”

    Melina finally managed to get her breath back, staggering over to the table and plopping down in the opposite chair. She checked her pack; luckily most the lumencap survived the trip. “Well, at least we got what we came for…”

    Orla nodded, already getting to her feet and moving towards the cupboards to fetch the rest of their stores of lumencap. She opened the cabinet, which perfumed the whole hut with a strange, almost citrusy scent. Orla pulled down the sacks and pulled out a large wooden bowl, big enough to cover nearly half the table, before setting it down and dumping them all in.

    “Right, now we just need to grind it all down into a powder.” She murmured, taking her mortar and beginning to mash at the mountain of mushrooms. Melina observed her work, impressed at how quickly the skilled orcish alchemist was able to reduce a mound of lumencap into sifty particles.

    “Now…” the orcess murmured, taking a cup down from the shelf and scooping a bit of the lumencap powder into it. “...To test its potency.”

    She grabbed a nearby gourd of water and poured it over the powder before taking up a spoon to stir it all in.

    Melina blinked, frowning as she looked from the cup to Orla. “Wait, you’re not gonna...drink it, are you?”

    Orla gave Melina a dry smile. “Have to make sure it works, don’t we? We can surmise how quickly it will affect the Chief by how quickly it affects me. Bottoms up…” And with that, the blind orc upended the cup into her mouth, drinking the entire contents in one fell swoop.

    Melina watched on tenterhooks as her friend consumed the liquid. “...How do you feel?” She asked.

    Orla frowned, looking at the cup. “Well, not too much different, but I suppose it’ll need some time to...ooh... “ She murmured, a hand moving to her abdomen. “I just...felt a pang down there, haha…” She chuckled. “That’s inter-ngh!” She grunted, wincing a bit as she bent forward at the hip a bit.

    Melina was immediately on her feet, moving over to the orc. “Orla? Orla! Are you alright?” She whispered frantically.

    “Nng...I’m fine…” Orla muttered. “Ng, I just...I...ohhh…” She breathed as her thighs began to rub together.

    Melina saw this, her eyes shifting from the sculpted orcish legs to her friend. “Is it working?”

    Orla chuckled again, rubbing her abdomen. “Yeah, I...I think it is...the urge just sort of hit me out of nowhere, didn’t expect it to *nn* to be that fast, erm…Here, help me get this powder into a few pouches…”

    Melina did as she was asked, fetching the pouches from the same cupboard and beginning to fill each one with lumencap powder. As they worked, she couldn’t help but notice Orla begin to look more and more anxious, her thighs rubbing together more and more. Hardly ten minutes later, Orla was having to stop in between each pouch to exhale and grasp at herself. “Haha, this...is working faster than I thought...the Chief doesn’t...doesn’t *nng* s-stand a chance…” She muttered, grinding her arse down into her seat.

    Another ten minutes past, and Orla had gone from mildly uncomfortable to downright desperate. Try as she might, Melina couldn’t ignore the way the woman’s hips wiggled, or the way she pressed at her crotch, or the cute little groans of desperation she let slip. She was all but rocking back and forth now, gritting her teeth so hard her tusks jutted into her upper lip.

    Finally, all the lumencap was accounted for...around 8 pouches worth, more than enough for Urza’s stores, according to Orla.

    “G-good, now let’s….oh dear…” the orcess whimpered. She shuddered, and Melina could hear a quick *hiss* as Orla’s sphincter failed her for a moment before she regained control.

    Melina’s eyes widened again. “Are you...wetting yourself?” She whispered. Orla bit her lip, giving no answer...but another, longer *hiss* told Melina all she needed to know.

    “E-excuse me a moment…” Orla huffed as she practically leapt out of her chair, racing towards the door...but it was too late. The sudden movement was too much for Orla’s alchemically-strained bladder, and within seconds, warm golden urine began gushing forth, saturating Orla’s trousers immediately and soaking the mat in front of the door with the force of a heavy summer rain. The orcish alchemist’s shoulders sagged as her bladder continued to forcibly void itself on the door and the surrounding areas.

    Melina couldn’t tear her eyes away… not from the deluge cascading down the orc’s legs, nor the way the wet fabric clung to her shapely posterior, nor the guttural groans of relief coming from between her pouty jade lips.

    After a few moments, the flow subsided, and Orla was left standing there in her puddle. Neither one of them said anything for a moment. Melina felt somewhat dizzy, and a bit numb as she watched the orc turn around.

    “Well...I suppose that means it works…” She murmured, biting her lip as she peered up at Melina.
    Melina nodded. “I...suppose it does...uh, I’ll get the limewort…”

    Once Orla had gotten cleaned up and most of her urine was being absorbed by the liberal amounts of limewort the two had applied to the puddle, Melina exhaled. “So then...Now all I have to do is challenge her?”

    Orla nodded. “You’ll need Khamina. She can get you the audience you need, while I go to the ale-cellar and…” She held up a pouch of lumencap powder, grinning mischievously.

    Melina nodded. She would just have to hope and pray that Malash had been right, and Khamina was indeed being soft on her. The two of them helped Orla fasten her alchemic pouches to her person and cover up with a cloak so as to not be detected.

    “Alright, I think we’re ready…” Orla murmured. “But, before we go…”
    She swallowed, and Melina was surprised to see the orc’s cheeks darken. “There’s, er...something you should know about the Chief. She doesn’t talk about it a lot, but it may help you increase your bargaining power…”

    Melina blinked, fastening her tunic. “Well? What is it?”

    Orla bit her lip, her cheeks darkening even more before she shuffled forward, cupping a hand around Melina’s ear and whispering into it.

    Melina narrowed her eyes in confusion...before widening them in surprise...and her own cheeks colored red as she realized what the woman was saying. She bit her own lip, feeling goosebumps form on her skin as a warmth blossomed in her core.

    “She...really?” Melina whispered, and Orla nodded, still dark in the cheeks. “It...might help, if you’re willing to take advantage of it. Now…let’s go.”

    Melina nodded, and they pushed open the door once more, heading into the compound proper. As fortune would have it, the rest of the scout guard was present, sitting around a fire, laughing and chatting idly. Khamina, normally loud and boisterous, was a bit more subdued tonight, do doubt due to the full tankard of ale currently straining the walls of her bladder. Malash looked a bit rigid too...though oddly, they were sitting next to each other… perhaps they had resolved their earlier spat?

    Melina took a deep breath, walking up to them as Orla snuck around them towards the Chief’s Abode.

    “Captain Khamina…” She announced. At once, the chatter stopped, and all eyes turned to Melina. The girl swallowed, doing her best to steel her nerves in the face of all the orc women looking at her.

    She took a step forward, clearing her throat. “Captain Khamina, I humbly come before you with a request.”

    The orcs continued to stare at her, and for a moment there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, Ognild and Ghora burst out laughing.
    “The...the fuck kind of announcement is tha-ha-hat?” Ognild exclaimed, clutching her stomach.

    Ghora had almost fallen off her seat. Oi, humie, you’re not in a fuckin’ church!”

    Khamina snorted. “Alright, you two, settle down…” she muttered, though her own face was curled up in a smirk. “What kind of ‘request’, man-cub?”

    Melina swallowed again. “I would like an audience with the Chief.”

    Khamina raised an eyebrow. “The Chief? What for?”

    Melina set her jaw. “I have a proposition for her.” She murmured.

    Khamina frowned as all the other orcs look on in curiosity.

    “And what, pray tell, be this ‘proposition’?” Khamina murmured, idly scratching at her neck.

    Melina leveled her gaze at the orc woman. “First things first. Do I have an audience?”

    The other orcs looked at one another as Khamina kept her gaze focused on the girl. Finally, it seemed her curiosity won out. “Fine.” She murmured, getting up. “Follow me...and the rest of yeh’s...try not to do anything stupid till I get back.”

    Melina exhaled gently as she followed Khamina away from the flames, trying to ignore how the other orcs’ gazes followed her across the pitch and up the steps of the Chief’s Abode.

    “Whatever this proposition is, man-cub, I hope it’s worthwhile...Chief don’t see nobody for nuthin’...” Khamina muttered, looking down at the girl.
    Melina nodded. “I understand...and thank you.” She said, looking up at the orc captain. Khamina nodded, a bit of a smirk on her face as she strode into the curtains.

    Melina waited on the steps, idly wondering if Orla had managed to get to the stores yet. She sincerely hoped so, or this would all be for naught. This was her one chance...she had to make it count.

    The flaps opened again, and out stepped Khamina. “The Chief doesn’t like being bothered at this hour, but...she’s curious, so...She’ll see you.” She murmured, looking down at Melina, who nodded, striding forward as Khamina held open the curtain for her.

    The room was just like it had been the first time Melina was here, though now that she wasn’t dangling by her arms and trying not to wet herself, she was able to appreciate how rustic and nicely-designed the place was...though her eyes were immediately drawn to the centerpiece.

    Chief Urza sat in her throne in a reclined pose that was relaxed, but still brimming with power, like a crouching tiger. Oddly, her legs were still covered, despite the warmth of the room. Her intense, greengold eyes locked Melina in a trance, and as she raised a hand to beckon the girl forth, Melina felt as though her body were moving automatically until she was stood in front of the woman.

    “I am told you have a proposition to make of me, man-cub…” The Chieftess murmured in that commanding, rich alto of hers. “I am intrigued as to what you believe you can offer me, that I do not possess…”

    Melina took a deep breath. “I am aware that you are...different, your grace. I am aware of your…’possession’.”

    Urza’s eyes glinted dangerously, a frown curling on her lips. “Leave us.” She barked at her guards, her eyes never leaving Melina’s.

    The orc guards turned to one another, confused, but unwilling to disobey their Chief. And so, one by one they filed out of the throne room, leaving the Chief and Melina alone.

    “Choose your next words wisely, man-cub…” Urza growled. “They may be the last you ever speak.”

    Melina swallowed, but she forced herself to continue. “I...was wondering why you always kept your legs covered…” She murmured, taking a tiny step forward. “This throne room is so warm, surely extra quilts would be uncomfortable, but you’re not trying to keep warm, are you, your Grace?” She asked, tilting her head as she continued to move forward.
     
    “No, you’re hiding something...a great, long, strong, beautiful something…” She cooed gently, moving forward
    The Chief looked wary, but she did not speak.
    Between her legs, the quilt jumped.
    The lack of resistance stoking her confidence, Melina continued. “A throbbing...needy something…” She breathed, slowly reaching for the quilt. Urza’s hand immediately reached out to grab her wrist, but Melina remained calm. “Please, your Grace...allow a poor sheltered girl to slake her curiosity?”

    Slowly, the Chief’s hand released her wrist, and Melina moved to pull the quilt down and off of the Chief’s lap, revealing a loincloth that just barely covered what looked to be nearly a foot-long penis, the same dusky green as its owner and riddled with veins. The smooth glans twinkled in the firelight, and already Melina could see a bit of moisture gathering at the tip. Despite herself, Melina felt her mouth water...never before had she seen such a perfect specimen, and the fact that it was on a beautiful, bosomy orc chief made it all the more enticing. She swallowed the excess saliva...best not let on how awed she was…

    “Ah...yes…” She breathed, her hand coming to rest on the Chief’s thigh, the back brushing against the underside of the length and causing it to spring almost immediately to full hardness.

    Melina clucked her tongue sympathetically. “You are the victim of such cruelty, your Grace...bound by your own laws to hide a part of yourself, and such a beautiful part...and with the men away, you are forbidden from even the torrid lovemaking that would help you forget the ache that plagues you here…” She murmured, reaching down to gently cup one of the orc chief’s weighty testicles...it was warm, heavy, and practically full to the brim with seed. The Chief took a shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering somewhat at the girl’s touch.

    Melina couldn’t help but allow herself a small smirk as she moved the other hand to the shaft, cupping the tip to gather a bit of lube before beginning to stroke the Chief’s royal scepter. “And then to be surrounded by so many fertile, curvaceous subjects, and be denied the chance to enjoy them...to have them service you on your throne as you know they would...even as they indulge in one another, while you are left pent up and without release…”

    Melina was losing herself in it, her motions coaxing more and more pre from the chief’s verdant member and allowing her hand to glide up and down the trembling pole with increasing ease. “But I’m different, am I not? I’m not an orc, I am not bound by your laws...and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to exploit that loophole…”

    The Chief’s breath was coming in shallow, almost girlish gasps, her eyes slack and unfocused. Melina could feel the conflict in the woman...she wanted to tell Melina to stop, to reassert control...but her body would not let her.

    “So I come to you. I know what you conceal, and I know how much it pains you to do so.” The Chief was groaning now, biting her lip as her hips began to move in rhythm with Melina’s hand.
    I have you now, gorgeous… Melina thought to herself as she began moving her hand faster and faster, feeling the flesh tremble and tighten beneath her. The Chief was close. “I want to give you what you crave, your Grace…” she murmured, leaning forward towards her ear.

    “...Release.” she whispered.

    The Chief bit down on her finger to keep from crying out as the first rope of fragrant, pearlescent cum burst from her quivering cock, splattering wetly on the ground beneath her. Melina bit her own lip, grinning as she increased her speed, intent on wringing as much pleasure from the orcish chieftain as she could. Urza groaned as her orgasm tore through her chiseled form, gout after gout of pent up seed roping from her engorged member, frosting the ground white and coating everything in front of the empress a pale, creamy white. Melina felt her small clothes moisten as the Chief continued to pump her broad hips into the girl’s hand, continuing to shoot her sperm high into the air, only for it to splat on the ground like white rain until the entirety of the stoop was painted white. After a few more moments, the spurts became less violent, and now began to just dribble down her magnificent pole. The Chief slumped against her chair, breathing heavily, painted in the afterglow of her euphoric climax.

    Melina smirked gently. “And so… I am offering myself, your grace...Not only to assist around the camp, but to relieve you so that you never again must go without the release you deserve…”

    The Chief’s eyes blinked a couple times to get back into frame before sliding over to look at Melina. “N...Name your wager, farlander…”

    Melina continued to idly stroke the Chief’s member. “An Endurance match. You against me. NO wrestling, just a battle of wills. If you win, I will become your love servant, forever. If I win... your guard has to escort me back to the edge of the forest so that I may return.”

    The Chief glowered, seemingly thinking to herself. “...No one has bested me in an endurance match, not even Khamina. You willingly stake lifelong servitude on so impossible a task?”

    Melina huffed gently. “The way I see it, this is my chance to prove to you that I can be strong, too...without the added meddling of your underlings. Do we have any accord?” She murmured, running her thumb along the sensitive underside of the futa chief’s cock, causing her to shudder.

    “V-very well, man-cub.” The chief murmured, sitting up fully and grabbing Melina’s chin with a grin. “You have yourself a wager.”

    TO BE CONTINUED….
  8. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    CHAPTER 5: Evening The Odds

    (Bit of a shorter chapter, but I want the final one to be completely dedicated to the match between Urza and Melina XD)

    News of Melina’s challenge spread quickly through the camp. By morning, every orc in the compound was aware of the impending contest between the Chief and the human captive, and there was no shortage of whispers or curious stares that followed Melina and Orla as they headed to the mess hall to do their routine morning clean-up of the perimeter guard’s breakfast.
    Truth be told, it was quite unnerving for the young girl, having the gaze of every muscle-bound warrior in the compound on her...but underneath it, she felt a strain of pride. She’d gotten their attention, and though in most looks she saw incredulity, pity or amusement, in a few she saw curiosity, and even grudging respect for the sheer audacity of her challenge.

    “I suppose the Chief accepted your challenge?” Orla muttered to her as she adjusted her cleaning pack on her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t see the gazes trailing after them, Orla’s extremely keen hearing picked up on the hushed conversations whenever they went by.

    Melina took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, she did. We start at dawn, each of us emptying ourselves completely, and then...” She let the sentence trail off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Despite Orla’s display in reaction to the lumencap, and her assurance that all of the Chief’s personal mead barrels had been thoroughly spiked with it (courtesy of an easily-picked lock and a less-than-vigilant guard-orc) Melina couldn’t help but be nervous. She had been awed just by how much regular orcs had been able to hold, and Chief Urza was supposed to be the strongest among them...She’d never even seen the over-endowed orc relieve herself before. She took another deep breath, doing her best to keep her head high and her gait steady so as not to look intimidated by the eyes following her to the mess hall.

    “Honestly I didn’t think she’d go for it at first, but, after some...persuasion…” She murmured.

    At this, Orla raised an eyebrow. “Persuasion? How do you mean?”

    At this, Melina reddened, a small smirk curling on her lips. “I, er...merely took your advice…”

    The orcess blinked her sightless eyes, confused...then they widened as realization dawned on her. Now it was Orla’s turn to blush, swallowing down a lump in her throat as she moved even closer to Melina. “O-Oh, you- you don’t mean you-?” She whispered

    Melina’s grin widened. “Yeah…” She giggled back, adjusting her own pack.

    The two young alchemists walked in somewhat of an awkward silence for a few moments longer before Orla turned her head slightly towards Melina.

    “....What did it look like?” She murmured under her breath, so quiet Melina could hardly even make out what she was saying.

    The girl frowned, turning to her friend in confusion. “Huh?”

    Orla swallowed again, clearing her throat as she kept her empty gaze focused before her. “W-what did it look like? The Chief’s...y-you know…” She stammered, fingers idly clutching at her pack strap. “I’ve...well, only a few of the Kh’raven have seen it, and I obviously haven’t…” She breathed, turning her head towards Melina. “Was it...did it look nice?”

    Melina felt her blush returning as she realized what Orla was asking. She cast a furtive glance around; most of the orcs had gone back to their respective morning tasks, and they weren’t close enough to overhear, anyway.

    She turned back to Orla, gently biting her lip. “It was...big…” she breathed. “Green… hard, but pliable...strong but smooth…warm to the touch…I didn’t think I’d feel this way seeing one, but...” Her eyes glazed over somewhat as she recounted the experience...the Chief’s strong, sculpted form flexing in orgasmic obedience to the comparatively tiny pale hand running its way up and down her sensitive shaft, her powerful green hands gripping the side of her throne as she tried not to let on how much she enjoyed Melina’s surprisingly skillful ministrations…

    It seemed Melina wasn’t the only one being affected by the bawdy account. Orla’s face got darker and darker the more Melina spoke, until her breath was coming in somewhat shallow gasps and her thighs began to rub against one another as they walked. “W-wow…” she croaked. “She must’ve been even more pent up than the rest of us...and she can’t even cheat the way the others do…”

    Melina nodded, exhaling gently. Despite the lust that had seared in her chest when she was tending to the Chief’s member, she’d also felt a surge of pity… to have such a magnificent tool and be unable to use it, especially with all the basically half-nude shapely orc women traipsing around...it must have been driving her crazy…

    Melina’s risque ruminations continued as they entered the mess hall, where the perimeter guard was sitting around chatting like normal… though both Khamina and Malash appeared to be missing. As soon as Melina came around the corner, the entire hall went quiet as they all turned to look at her.

    Melina swallowed, the sudden gazes of a dozen orc guards on her making her feel weak in the knees, though she did her best not to acknowledge them as she and Orla came farther in.

    Their footsteps felt loud in Melina’s ears, their echo in the silence weighing on her as she set her pack down and reached in to pull her saphroot tincture and cleaning rags out, trying to keep her hands steady as she did so. “I’m gonna go fetch the water…” She murmured to Orla, grabbing the pail from near the entrance and starting towards the back of the hall.

    As she passed by, the orcs began to murmur among themselves like all the others.

    “She really challenged the Chief? Didn’t she piss herself within ten minutes of comin’ here?”

    “She’s gotta know Chief Urza’s gonna crush her…”

    “10 gold pieces says she squirts before the Chief even starts feeling it…”

    “I say we make her chug the rest of this barrel, see how much she can *really* hold…”

    Melina ignored them, setting her jaw and pushing open the back door of the mess hall. The murmurs followed her out as made her way to the well to fetch water for cleaning the dishes, but Melina did her best to block it out as she approached the well. As she tied the pail off and began lowering it into the well, a nasty thought occurred to her. Many of the orcs clearly thought little of her challenge… what if they decided to ambush her for their Chief, tie her up and beat her down before the contest even began? What if, when Urza realized she was more desperate than she should’ve been, she figured something was amiss? What if Melina won and Urza went back on her promise?

    Melina’s heart began to hammer in her chest as she considered these unsavory possibilities...her hands shook as she pulled the bucket up, water sloshing out the sides. The sound, ironically enough, reminded her of her faint urge to urinate...something she’d need to take care of as soon her chores were done, while she still could.

    She calmed herself by reminding herself that the Kh’raven seemed an honorable folk, if nothing else… Orla had said the Chief wasn’t a bad sort, and it wasn’t like living here the past two weeks had been completely terrible… and suddenly, she began to feel a bit guilty about the way she’d rigged the match…

    No. Melina thought angrily to herself. No, you are doing what you need to win. The Chief played dirty when you got here, so...so this just makes it fair. Yes, you’re just making things even...this is how you’re gonna get home.

    With her conscience assuaged for the time being, Melina pulled the bucket the rest of the way up and promptly returned to the mess hall, determination and resoluteness driving her steps forward with renewed vigor.
     
    The mess hall was surprisingly empty when Melina re-entered it….it seemed as though most of the orcs had gone off to elsewhere, and the ones who hadn’t were back to drinking and talking, enjoying the last few moments of their morning break and paying Melina little mind as she hurried back to Orla. The orcish alchemist had already started clearing away some of the flagons and plates from the orcs’ breakfast, pre-staining them with the tincture to dissolve any residual food particles. She raised her head as she heard Melina’s footsteps approach, turning gently towards the sound. Melina frowned as she knelt down next to Orla with the bucket. “Where’s everyone going? Muster isn’t for another half hour…”

    Orla shrugged. “Getting ready to watch Malash’s Endurance Match against the Captain, probably…” She murmured, dipping her rag in the bucket. 
     
    Melina blinked. She’d totally forgotten that was today...that explained both Khamina and Malash’s absences from the normal breakfast rush. “Can we see it?” She murmured. She hadn’t been too invested in the matches up until now, given that to her it was just a contest between two random orcs settling some personal squabble...but now Melina had reason to actually pay attention. She hadn’t had many joys during her captivity, but she imagined watching Khamina put Malash’s arse in the dirt would be quite a sight.

    Orla shrugged. “Depends on how quickly we finish these dishes, I suppose….” She murmured, sounding rather morose, though Melina picked up on it, she didn’t comment.

    A while passed as the two slowly made their way through the mountain of dishes they needed to clean...the other orcs had all gone by the time they’d nearly finished up.

    Once they were alone, Orla turned to Melina. “They’d been talking about you…” she murmured. “About the match…”

    Melina set her jaw, dropping her gaze back to their work. “I know… can’t be helped… And it’s a crazy thing for me to do, even-” She paused, looking around to make sure they weren’t being listened to before leaning forward. “-even with the lumencap we’re slipping her. Orla, do you think it’ll be enough?” She whispered.

    Orla smiled drily. “Made me piss myself in short order, didn’t it?”

    Melina pursed her lips. “That’s- Orla, come on, you know what I mean. The Chief is the strongest there is, right? And she’s got- w-well, she’s obviously different from the other orcs, what if she can resist its effects?”

    Orla frowned. “She’s still an orc, Melina, no matter how many differences her body has… the lumencap will work. In two days time she’ll be doing her damndest not to gush all over the ground, I promise.”
    Melina blushed a bit at the decidedly crude response, and she cleared her throat. “Right, erm...yeah… and Orla…” She murmured, her eyes raising to the young orc’s face. “Thank you… I know it can’t have been easy, doing all this…helping me, betraying your Chief...”

    Orla pursed her lips, suddenly looking decidedly uncomfortable. She sat up with a gentle sigh, rolling her shoulders. “...I have no desire to see any harm come to her… I may be somewhat of an oddball here but Kh’raven blood still flows through my veins. My heart still beats for my Chief, and my tribe...This is my home. But…” She stopped wiping the dish in her hand for a moment. “I want to help you get back to your home…”

    She turned her empty gaze on Melina. “...To Priscilla…”

    Melina merely continued to peer at Orla for a moment before leaning over and wrapping her arms round the Orc’s shoulders. Orla tensed, seeming surprised, but within seconds she was reciprocating the embrace. The two stayed like that for a moment, content to bask in each other’s warmth and gentleness...two things oft missing from the rough dispositions of the Kh’raven tribals.

    Suddenly, they heard the challenge horn being sounded, and began to hear voices congregating outside the mess hall.

    Orla turned to Melina. “Sounds like the Match is starting…” She murmured, quickly scrubbing the last dish and setting it back in the nesting alcove. Melina got to her feet as well, and the pair of them hurried outside where the crowd was gathering around the Match ring.

    Melina managed to shove her way to the front this time, her eyes scanning the trodden dirt pitch for the competitors. Within moments, a roar went up from the spectators as the contestants emerged onto the field.

    Khamina and Malash both wore stony expressions as they approached each other… Melina noted with some redness that they both had changed out of their usual guard armor, now clad only in the dress worn by those participating in a Match; scant fur bras that barely contain their mountainous bosoms and loincloths that hung between powerful thighs in an almost ironic display of decency. The sheer clothing allowed all present to see the hard muscles rippling underneath the two opponents’ verdant skin, tensed with barely contained ferocity...it was like watching two bears circle each other over a salmon. Khamina had tied her braid back in a bun to prevent it being used as a handhold for her opponent, while Malash’s clean shaven head merely glinted in the morning sun. Melina would be lying to herself if she said her pulse didn’t quicken a bit at the sight...they looked dangerous, but also beautiful...like a raging fire...

    But the most prominent feature was one they shared...a great, bulbous, protruding abdomen, a sign of the boiling lake of piss contained just behind each hardened Amazonian sphincter. Oddly enough, neither of them even seemed to notice the loads that would’ve ruptured the bladders of a dozen women thrice over, their only concern seeming to be keeping the other in their sights.

    Melina felt the tension in the air, as did everyone… The petty grievance given as the impetus for this fight masked the years of friction between the two, and now all that frustration was coming to a head...in one way or another.

    The ref raised an arm, and the two combatants sunk into wrestling stances, still glaring at one another.

    For a moment, there was silence. The crowd wanted with bated breath, the energy humming in the air like the moments before a thunderstorm.

    The arm had barely swung down when the two lunged for one another, immediately grappling one another’s shoulders. They both grit their teeth as they staggered around the pitch, gripping each other so hard Melina could swear she saw veins bulging out of their necks.

    Suddenly, Khamina dropped to a lunge stance, forcing Malash to pitch forward and allowing Khamina to use that momentum to toss her opponent to the ground. Malash hit the dirt and rolled right back to her feet, a fierce expression on her face. With a bellow, she charged Khamina, tackling her Captain into the dirt. The crowd was going wild, shouting out encouragement to their respective champions.

    “Yeah, Malash, take that bitchcaptain down a peg!”

    “Come on, Captain, show that bucktusk beta who’s boss!”

    Melina winced as Malash slammed Khamina’s shoulders into the dirt and straddled her, breathing heavily. The Captain struggled, but she couldn’t find an angle.

    A frenzied grin began to appear on Malash’s face. “Finally…” She hissed, moving her hips back and moving a hand down to Khamina’s abdomen. She drove her palm into the Captain’s grotesquely protruding bladder, causing Khamina to cry out in a strangled groan. Malash began pumping her arm up and down, rolling Khamina’s boulder of a bladder around in her abdomen with little regard for the pain it might cause her.
    Amazingly though, throughout it all, Khamina did not pee, despite the brutal attack on her overswollen pee-pouch. Malash must’ve been just as surprised, because the half-second of hesitation on the lighter orc’s part gave Khamina the opening she needed to throw her opponent off of her. Malash hit the ground, and Khamina staggered upright, knock kneed and clutching her bladder with a pained expression.

    Melina’s eyes flitted between the two combatants, thanking her lucky stars she would not have to wrestle in her own match...she wasn’t sure if she’d even survive, let alone avoid peeing herself. She winced again as Khamina swept Malash’s leg while simultaneously bringing her arm around her neck and forcing her into a kneel. It was such a violent sport, and no one in the crowd seemed to-

    Melina swallowed as her eyes caught the gaze Chief Urza, staring at her from the other side of the pitch.

    The Chief was dressed in her normal leathers and pelts, her bearskin cape hanging off of her shoulders. Her mouth curled up in a toothy grin, lusty and primal, as she kept her gaze trained on Melina, and Melina could swear she saw the crotch of the Chief’s tunic twitch.

    Melina swallowed, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from Urza and focus back on the match, though she could feel herself warming under the Chief’s domineering gaze.

    Khamina had gotten Malash into a headlock again… the same headlock, Melina surmised, that had won the Captain the match last time. Malash’s eyes were already fluttering as she clawed at the arm round her throat, her loincloth already becoming stained with the spurts that signified she would soon lose control of her bladder, and thus, the match. Khamina grit her teeth, squeezing tighter as Malash’s thrashing became weaker and weaker, struggling and squirming in Khamina’s grasp…

    Then suddenly, the Captain let go. In both senses of the word.

    As Khamina released Malash’s throat, she grimaced, and a second later golden piss was pouring from between her thighs in a torrent the likes of which Melina had never seen… it was as though someone had upended a bathtub, the way the amber sheets of hot urine were splashing noisily into the ground.

    The entire pitch went silent as Khamina continued voiding her bladder on the pitch, their eyes wide in surprise...though no one looked more shocked than Malash, who had paused in her massaging of her neck to stare open-mouthed at the deluge staining her superior’s thighs. After almost 5 minutes, Khamina’s flow abated, the last few droplets snaking lazily down her thighs as she raised her head towards Malash.

    Melina blinked...Khamina had lost? But Khamina never lost…especially to the likes of Malash…

    She and the rest of the tribe watched as the Chief stepped forward. “Well fought, the both of you…” She murmured, her eyes lingering on Khamina. “But Malash….” She turned to the still tensed and shivering  orc who, now that she no longer had adrenaline on her side, seemed to be having a difficult time containing the rest of her own pee.

    “...You have emerged the victor. You may now take your-”

    Malash didn’t even wait for the orcish Chief to finish her sentence as she pulled aside her own loincloth, jetting forth a stream that was not quite as strong as Khamina’s but nonetheless impressive, indicative of the orc being mere seconds away from such a gush being involuntary. As she continued to pee, the Chief strode over and grabbed her arm, holding it high and bringing forth cheers from some of the crowd and looks of surprise or dismay from the rest. 

    Ghora and Ognild led the pack of orcs who had sidled up to Malash.

    “Blimey, Malash…” Ghora breathed, clapping her still-peeing fellow guard on the back. “You fuckin’ pulled it out...you’re the first of us to beat the Cap’n ever…” She breathed.

    Ognild was next, grinning widely. “Guess we can’t make fun of yeh for faintin’ like a chambermaid anymore…” She joked, looking down at the golden cascade from between Malash’s thighs. “Gruumsh’s bollocks, that must feel incredible…”

    Malash, for all intents and purposes, had lost her normal off-putting scowl...instead, she still looked quite taken aback, as if she, like her compatriots, had expected herself to lose.

    She shot a glance towards Khamina, who was now conversing with the Chief, pee still dripping down her legs.

    Their conversation seemed to conclude, as Khamina sighed gently and the Chief strode over to Malash. “Congratulations, Malash…” She murmured, clapping Malash’s shoulder. “You’ve done well. I’m certain I don’t need to impress upon you the significance of your victory…?”

    Malash nodded. “I...Yes, I’m aware, Chief…”

    Urza nodded. “And for your impressive display, and on the recommendation of Khamina, you’ve been granted a commendation. Live long and serve well...Captain.”

    Malash looked up, eyes wide. “...Chief?” She murmured. “But I-I...Khamina-”

    “-Has made the decision divide her duties with you, given the need to bolster our forces in the wake of restlessness at the far ends of the forest. She will continue to be responsible for the training and assembling of the guard and you will help lead the veterans when she is doing so. As of this moment, you are equal with her, and answer only to me.”

    Ghora and Ognild’s eyes flitted from the Chief to Malash, who still looked stunned.

    The Chief chuckled. “Now...I believe you’ve some cleaning up to do, yes?” She murmured, her eyes now flitting to Melina and Orla. “Man cub…” The Chief barked.

    Melina swallowed, shuffling forward as she was summoned. She’d been prepared for (and somewhat anticipating) helping Khamina clean...but to be alone with Malash, unable to defend herself...the thought made her sick with fear.

    The Chief looked down at the girl, a leering grin on her face. “Make certain the Captain is seen to, young one.” She commanded before turning and striding off.

    Malash and Melina both watched her go for a moment before turning and looking at each other. Melina braced herself to be grabbed or yanked by her hair, but Malash only snorted. “Hmph...let’s go.” She growled. Melina followed immediately, not intent on doing anything to upset the belligerent orc… even as Orla was left standing, a worried expression in her sightless eyes.

    The new Captain was silent all the way to the washing stalls. Even as she disrobed, she said nary a word, her gaze seeming far away.

    Melina fetched the water and the flint for the fire, returning to the stall to find Malash standing there, nude and arms crossed as she stared at the wall.

    Melina quickly knelt, striking the flint together to get the tinder burning, not intent on being here any longer than she absolutely had to.
    “...She threw the match.” Malash muttered.

    Melina blinked, looking up at the orc, who was still staring at the wall. Was she talking to Melina, or to herself? Should she answer? Should she not? Melina wrestled with her indecision for a moment before deciding to throw caution to the wind. “...Pardon?”

    Malash huffed. “She should’ve won that fight.”

    Melina swallowed, putting the flint away as the tinder finally caught fire. She put the pail over it and sighed. “If she wanted to win...I’m sure she would’ve...”

    Malash’s dubious expression darkened even more as she shook her head. “No...She had me. She had me and she was seconds from winnin’, but she let me go.” She turned to Melina, glowering down at her. “Why?”

    Melina frowned, looking up. “What makes you think I know?”

    Malash snorted. “Cause she’s fucking easy on you, that’s what. Been gettin’ real soft ever since you stepped foot in the Kh’raven compound. What did she tell you? What’s she plannin’?”

    Melina pursed her lips again as she went back to tending the flame. “It isn’t like we’re friends, she just hasn’t looked like she actively wants to kill me, not like you…” She muttered, feeling the words tumble out before she could stop herself.

    If Malash was offended, though she didn’t show it. Melina waited a few more minutes for the water to heat before pulling the pail off. She stood up and stepped into the stall, only for Malash to grab the bucket and yank it away from her with a rough tug. “I can wash myself…” She muttered.

    Melina pursed her lips… the Malash she knew would’ve paid her weight in gold to degrade the human captive by making her wash her, but now...it seemed like there was different fire in her eyes, one that burned for another reason.
    Still, Melina didn’t consider it her lot to try and figure out why Malash was acting so strangely...she merely turned and strode away from the stalls as quickly as her feet would carry her, not stopping till she had reached Orla’s hut.

    ~~~~

    As the afternoon wore on and evening approached, Melina felt herself get more and more nervous. The drinking for the contest would start in the morning, though as she thought about it, Melina had no idea how it was supposed to work. Were they to simply start drinking and then wait all day and all night till the start of the contest? Where was it to take place? And if she won...how soon would she be allowed to pee, and then to leave?

    Questions like these rattled around the troubled young alchemist’s head, until she’d nearly made herself dizzy.

    “...Melina?” Orla murmured, looking up from sewing a leather jerkin. “Are you alright? You haven’t said much since the Match…”

    Melina looked up at Orla, whose sightless gaze was fixated right in front of her. She shook her head, stretching. “Oh, uh...it’s nothing, just...Malash was acting strange, after the match. She didn’t make me wash her, and…. She...told me that Captain Khamina threw the match.”

    Orla frowned. “So Captain Khamina really did lose? Wow...If I was Malash, I’d be surprised, too…”

    Melina looked back up at the orc. “Why? Khamina was bound to lose sometime…”

    Orla huffed. “Not to Malash. Not to anyone but the Chief. Khamina is the best by a wide margin, it’s why she was made the Captain even when the men were still around...and everyone’s saying she had Malash dead to rights…”

    Melina frowned. “Don’t tell me you think she threw the match? Why would she do that, all you Kh’raven care about is being the strongest, being the best, don’t you?” She snapped, a bit more harshly than she intended.

    Noting the hurt expression Orla now wore, Melina was suddenly flooded with guilt. “Orla...I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

    Orla held up a hand, shaking her head. “You don’t have to apologize...not to me, not for that. We- I have done my best to make you feel welcome here, but, it isn’t like everyone else has...I’d be angry, too…”

    Melina pursed her lips, looking back down at the ground. “Well...maybe “hate” is a strong word...things could be worse, I suppose…” She trailed off flatly.

    Orla frowned, finally setting her sewing needles down. “...There is something else bothering you…”

    Melina sat in silence for a moment, hands on her knees. “Orla, my entire life hinges on tomorrow...whether or not I get to see my friends and family again...I just…”
    She swallowed. “I’m scared...scared that the lumencap won’t be enough…”

    Orla pursed her lips, setting down her jerkin and folding her hands in her lap. “Melina...I told you this morning, the plan will work… I promise you, you will get back home.” She murmured. Melina looked up, seeing Orla’s reassuring smile...and she actually felt a little better. “Ah...thank you, I-” Just then, there was a knock at the door.

    Melina and Orla both turned towards the sound, and then each other. Swallowing, Melina got to her feet, pulling the door open to reveal one of the perimeter guard.

    “There is a feast being held in honor of Captain Malash’s ascendency in rank...you and Orla are teh make sure everyone is served and that things get cleaned up. Come with me.”

    Melina and Orla looked at one another… never before had they been invited to dine with the rest of the camp before. Melina would much rather have stayed in the hut, but she could tell by the gruff expression on the orc guard’s face that they didn’t have much of a choice.
    A few moments, later, the pair were following the guard back through the camp. Night had fallen, the full moon illuminating the entirety of the compound and casting long shadows over the ground as it hit the wooden parapets. The camp was all but deserted...everyone must’ve been at this banquet. Ahead, Melina could already hear the hooting and hollering of the scout guard and the Chief’s entourage carrying away in the mess hall.

    The sound only got louder the closer they got, until finally they reached the slatted wooden doors. The guard pushed it open and immediately Melina was assailed by the heady aromas of roast boar, heather ale and the musk of several orc bodies packed into the same room.

    All around, verdant amazons carried on like heathens, tearing into sides of ham or upending flagons of ale into their mouths. There was arm wrestling, joke-telling, all manner of laughter and riot… A heavy *thunk* from across the way alerted Melina to the knowledge that a few of the orcs were having hatchet throwing contests against the far wall...and to her dismay, each participant had a flagon of ale in her hand.

    Orla’s empty eyes widened as they made their way further inside… A small smile came to her lips. “They...sound like they’re enjoying themselves…” She murmured. Melina shot a glance at her friend, debating on whether or not to tell her about the potentially dangerous hatchet throwing game going on.

    As they reached the center of the room, Melina glanced up and saw the Chief reclining on a chair elevated on a tiered dais near the head of the table, smirking as she observed the raucous carrying-ons of her tribe. Next to her was Khamina, who looked far more reserved than Melina had ever seen her… a flagon in one hand, the other on her knee, her chin resting upon her, her gaze far away.

    On the Chief’s other side, looking decidedly perplexed by all the new attention, was Malash. She’d been given her own gold ring to put around her tusk, signifying her status as a Captain in the tribe. A few of the orcs were coming up to her, clinking their flagons with hers or slapping her shoulder, or otherwise trying to buddy up with their new superior, but most seemed happy to have a night off to eat, drink and make arses of themselves with their comrades, occasion be damned.

    Malash, for all the attention, didn’t look nearly as pleased as Melina would’ve thought someone who’d just bested her rival and earned a new title in the same day would’ve looked. In fact, the newly ascended captain’s focus appeared to be mainly on Khamina, across the aisle from her…

    The Chief sat up, rolling her shoulders and grabbing the bronze-tipped spear next to her, raising it and bringing it down hard on the table. The rest of the orcs stopped their celebration immediately, turning toward their leader.

    Urza looked over the now attentive orcs, sitting up and swinging her powerful legs over her seat before getting to her feet. Melina noticed, with some surprise, that the orc Chief had forgone her normal lower-half coverings, instead clad in something of a loincloth-tunic hybrid beneath her roughhide jerkin and bearskin cape.

    “We assemble this evening to celebrate the taking of a mantle.” She called as she began descending the steps of the dais.
    “Our comrade Malash showed strength, fortitude and will unseen by any other besides Captain Khamina...and for that alone, she is to be commended. But not only that… she proved that to be counted out is tinder for pressing on, not for giving in. She persevered despite the adversity, embodied the warrior spirit we pride ourselves upon...and the Kh’raven recognize her victory.”

    Suddenly, the Chief’s eyes flitted to Melina and Orla, still near the entrance. Her toothy grin returned. “And speaking of insurmountable odds…”

    Melina felt the color drain from her face as the entirety of the mess hall turned to look at her. She felt nearly sick with fear as the Chief approached, looming larger than Melina had imagined. She knew the Chief was tall, but having only ever encountered her sitting down or in a crowd, she hadn’t been able to appreciate just how imposing the orc chieftain was.

    The 7-and-a-half foot jade behemoth stopped just shy of the pale young alchemist, grinning down at her with an expression that surely would strike fear into even the most hardened knights. Melina swallowed, feeling her legs wobble beneath her as she did her best not to faint on the spot.

    “Bravery and foolishness are easily mistaken, especially among your kind, man-cub…” She murmured, causing a rumble of laughter from the gathered orcs. “Or perhaps...Hubris? After all, your ilk have purged much of the forest of it’s natural beauty in order to build your towns and chapels and castles… only the truly arrogant believe themselves masters of all they see. I was surprised to receive your challenge, given you seem to be more intelligent than most anyone one else from Man’s Country… but perhaps part of you believes you truly do stand a chance?”

    Melina tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry she did little else than merely scrape the parts of her throat together.

    The Chief’s grin widened. “I suppose that is my fault… You’ve seen more of me than most, and yet I haven’t truly shown you what I am capable of… perhaps a demonstration?”

    The Chief stepped back, holding out her spear. Immediately, one of her guards rushed forward to take it. The Chief’s eyes never left the young alchemist as she began undoing the cinch around her tunic, loosening the material some before reaching behind her loincloth, fiddling with what seemed to be even more knots…

    The orc chief let out a gentle sigh as bits of thick twine fell from between her legs, and her large, throbbing green cock swung freely between her legs...Melina realized with a jolt that it had actually been tied to her right thigh, like one might tie a prized hog to the back of a horse.

    The Chief grasped her member, pulling it up and out into full view of the assembly. A wave of musk hit Melina in the face that made her already weak knees shake like jelly...and she wasn’t the only one. The nearest orcs to the chief inhaled sharply, and out of the corner of her eye Melina could see their gazes glued hungrily to their Chief’s rod, nipples tenting their tunics as their mouths began to water. Melina couldn’t blame them...she found her own eyes inexplicably drawn to it...just as magnificent as the first time she saw it. Even flaccid, it looked as thick around as her forearm, the smooth dark green glans glinting gently in the firelight...For a fleeting moment, Melina thought about whether or not it would be so bad to spend the rest of her life worshipping that magnificent tool...rubbing it, licking it, kissing it… taking it in her-
    She quickly shook her head to rid herself of the intrusive thoughts, her cheeks reddening quite deeply.

    The Chief smirked, aiming her thick one-eyed serpent at the ground before Melina. The blonde’s eyes widened in realization of what the Chief was about to do a second before the first steaming gout of fragrant piss jetted forth from the powerful member, splattering onto the ground with a sound like heavy rain on stone. Melina instinctively tread backwards to avoid splashback, but she still felt a few droplets hit her leg.

    Two, three, four, five minutes passed as the Chief was still going as strong as when she first started. She grinned as she continued to drain herself onto the dirt before her, with a stream as thick and steady as the fountains in the town square of Melina’s home. The evidence of her gargantuan capacity spread all across the ground, back towards the table where the orcs were lifting their feet to avoid getting their galoshes wet, and and even over to the mess hall entrance where Orla was standing. Melina felt her heart drop to her stomach… she’d never seen so much pee before, and the Chief didn’t even look fazed for having held what looked to be a couple barrels’ worth inside her cavernous bladder. Not to mention, the sound of the orc relieving herself reminded Melina about her own bladder, steadily filling throughout the day and deciding to make its presence known in a not-quite-subtle manner. Her legs involuntarily squeezed together as the Chief continued to release a load that would’ve filled her own bladder 9 times over, without so much as a sigh.

    Finally, after nearly 8 minutes, Chief Urza’s stream finally began to slow, though it was still another 30 seconds or so before it abated completely. Nearly the entire northwest quadrant was now soaked with the Chief’s steaming pee; Orla had winced as it began to soak into her shoes.

    Letting out a snort, the Chief tucked herself back away, grinning at the expression on Melina’s face. “Ah, yes...now you truly see what you are up against, girl…” She chuckled, crossing her arms. “Which is why I am giving you a sporting chance.”

    Melina tore her eyes away from the towering orc’s crotch, forcing herself to look up at the Chief. “...What? I-”

    Urza’s grinning lips curled back over her teeth again. “Customarily, we would both empty ourselves at dawn and then withhold from relief for the day, beginning the contest the next morning… But seeing as you are at such a disadvantage, I am going to begin my abstinence now. By the time you empty yourself to start the contest, I will have already gone an entire night without relieving myself, and…”
    She clapped her hands, and suddenly a group of orcs entered from behind her makeshift throne, carrying in more barrels of mead.
    “...having been properly hydrated with my own, vast personal stores.”

    Melina swallowed again. A headstart...the Chief clearly didn’t expect it to make a difference, this was a ploy to make her victory all the more impressive. She obviously didn’t know what had happened to her mead, and now she was going to subject herself to roughly 12 additional hours of holding in the diuretic laced brew… all in the name of proving herself truly superior.

    Melina said nothing as the Chief held out her hand for her spear. “Let it not be said that Chief Urza is not fair.” She chuckled, turning and heading back towards her throne. Melina was rooted to the spot, able to only stare as the Chieftain sat back down on her throne, gesturing for a flagon and one of her barrels.
    “Good luck on the morrow, man-cub…” She smirked. And with that, the orcs turned back to the table, the din slowly resurging as they began eating and drinking once more.

    After a short while , Orla came up next to her, her blind gaze staring before her. “Did...I just hear what I thought I heard…?”

    Melina took a deep breath. “Yeah...the Chief just took her last pee till the end of the contest…”

    Orla nodded, slightly open mouth. “And she...doesn’t know that her mead is-”

    “-Yeah.” Melina said, feeling her entire body shiver as she watched the Chief knock back her first few flagons of mead from her special barrels. Somehow, the knowledge that the Chief was not only being imbued with gallons of spiked mead guaranteed to fill an orc’s bladder fuller than it had ever been, but was also doing so 12 hours before she needed to…

    Melina inhaled sharply, feeling her nipples stiffen underneath her smallshirt. “I-let’s just get on with cleaning…”

    The celebration continued late into the night, with both Malash and Khamina slowly becoming more and more like they normally were the more inebriated they got. Melina and Orla had gotten fresh water from the well to pour over the expansive stain the Chief had left on the dirt, and had since been clearing away excess dishes and flagons from the table.

    As the night wore on, though, Melina began to notice a problem. A few of the orcs near the head of the table had slowed their drinking, and weren’t participating as heavily in the roughhousing their compatriots were. Instead, they seemed to quiet down a bit, going somewhat still as they shifted around in their seats. A few more continued on just as rambunctious as before, but they kept their legs close together in almost awkward stances more often than not.

    It was innocuous enough so that Melina didn’t really pay it any mind, focused as she was on making sure the Chief was keeping a good flow going. She needn’t have worried...the Chief’s cup never remained empty. In fact, it looked as though she was deliberately drinking more than usual as though to double down on her offer to make the contest more fair.

    Melina smirked inwardly...the Chief was evening the odds, alright…

    Finally, the Chief sent the party off to their respective abodes. Orc after orc staggered out of the mess hall, plastered beyond belief...and again, a few of them showed signs of strain...a slight wince here, a small twitch there… a few even shuffled from foot to foot, though it looked to Melina a consequence of their drunken state. She stayed behind with Orla to finish cleaning the dishes, and by the time they did, it was near midnight by Melina’s estimate. The pair of them left the mess hall, dragging their feet in exhaustion. Melina could not wait to get back to the hut and sleep… she had quite a long day before her tomorrow, and she’d need all her strength.

    Finally, they reached Orla’s home, each groaning as they entered the squat hut. Melina pulled the door closed behind them, sighing gently.

    Orla staggered over and collapsed onto her stool, rubbing her neck. “What a day…” She muttered.

    Melina chuckled tiredly. “Tomorrow’ll be even harder, at least for me…” She muttered, looking at the fire.

    Orla looked up, smiling gently. “...You can do this, Melina. I was confident in you even before the Chief decided to fill herself up a full night before the contest started...in two days time you’ll be a free woman. I promise.”

    Melina smiled back, reddening a bit as she brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Thanks, Orla, I...you know, I couldn’t have done this without you. Whatever happens, I want you to know that.”

    Orla returned the smile, lowering her head in somewhat of a bashful gesture. “I...I’ll miss you...it’s been nice, having someone to talk to who understands me...or even wants to...It...Yeah…”

    Melina gently bit her bottom lip, as if wrestling with something, and before she knew it, she had lurched forward, planting a swift but gentle kiss on the young orc’s lips.

    Orla’s milky white eyes widened in surprise at the sudden kiss, and as Melina pulled back, she noted the girl’s shocked expression. Embarrassment, hot and sour, rose in her stomach as she began stammering out apologies.
    “O-Oh, Orla, I’m sorry, I just...y-you know you had said...things, a-and I thought...I thought...Oh, please don’t hate me…”

    To her credit, the young Orc was quite adept at hiding any deeper reactions. Melina watched her on tenterhooks, deathly afraid that she’d overstepped...But after a moment, Orla leaned forward, reaching out to feel for Melina’s face and pulling her into a gentle kiss over own.

    Melina’s eyelids fluttered as she felt Orla's surprisingly soft lips on her own once again... she was just barely beginning to lean into the kiss when Orla pulled away, her lips still puckered.

    “Don’t be sorry…” She said softly, smiling as her cheeks reddened. “Just go get some rest.”

    Melina sat there swaying for a while before doing as instructed, rising up out of her chair and making her way back to the small bed she had called her own for the past week.

    As she lay down, she traced her fingers over her lips, still tingling from where Orla’s had touched them. With a smile, she closed her eyes.

    TO BE CONCLUDED....
  9. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale   
    At long last. 
    Chapter 6: The Match

     
    Morning. 
    The birds had just begun to sing their dawn song, gently rousing the rest of the forest from its slumber...The sun had just barely begun to peak over the horizon, banishing the shadows of the night away. 
    Melina had awoken hours ago, but nerves and her racing mind had prevented her from going back to sleep. All she could think about was the match; not just winning and getting home, but making sure her and Orla’s part in fixing it wouldn’t be discovered. She kept reminding herself that there was no way she’d be found out; arrogant as the orcs were, they’d never suspect such trickery. The thought helped her relax, but only just. Any moment now, someone would be by to escort her to the pitch… best get ready. 
    She pushed herself up, running a hand through her tousled blonde hair as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She pulled on a pair of loose drawstring cotton trousers and a simple linen tunic...Orla had told her to make sure she wore clothes that weren’t restrictive so that they wouldn’t dig into a soon-to-be-swollen bladder. 
    Orla was already in the hut kitchenette when Melina entered, sipping something warm and sweet-smelling from a cup. She looked up as she heard Melina’s footsteps.
    “...Morning…” she murmured softly, a faint blush on her viridescent cheeks. 
    “Good morning…” Melina responded quietly, a bit red in the face herself as the unspoken silence of their kiss from last night hung in the air.  
    Orla was the first to break it, gently clearing her throat. “So...how did you sleep?” 
    Melina let out a gentle sigh, striding forward and sitting in the chair opposite Orla. “Well enough, I guess...been up for a while, though.”
    Orla nodded. “I understand. It’s a big day.” 
    Never before had Melina heard such an understatement. Blowing air out of her cheeks, the young alchemist stared at the table. “Orla...when this is all over...would you, erm… wanna visit me? Or, my town?” She corrected herself quickly, her cheeks coloring again. 
    The young orc looked equally flustered, but her lips curled into a gentle smile. “You think your human friends wouldn’t mind an orc hanging around?” 
    Melina waved away the concern. “Oh, the lot I run with are an accepting bunch, ‘sides, they’ll wanna meet the girl who helped me get home...I can introduce you to Maester Arwen and Fergus and Liam and Hanna...and Pris…” She murmured, smiling gently. “Pris’ll love you…” 
    Orla chuckled. “Well, then, I’d love to. Maybe I can even come with you when the Chief has her guard escort you, eh?” 
    Melina chuckled as well, feeling a lot more at ease now than before. 
    Just then, there was a knock at the door. Both Melina and Orla turned to it, their smiles fading immediately. Melina took a deep breath. “Guess that’s for me...” She murmured, looking at Orla, who nodded in assent. 
    Melina got up and strode over to the door, opening it to reveal none other than Khamina. 

    Melina blinked in surprise. “...Captain?” She murmured, clearly not expecting a Captain of the Guard to be her escort to the pitch. 
    “Hey, humie…” Khamina murmured, looking down at Melina. “‘S’time. C’mon, we’re waitin’ at the pitch.” 
    Melina nodded, taking another deep breath as Orla stood up, preparing herself to leave as well. “Alright… Let’s go.” 
    ~
    Melina had taken the walk to the pitch many times before, but it felt...different this time, like she was walking towards her own execution. Cursing her dramatic mind, Melina hurried forward to keep pace with Khamina. The orc captain was quiet, more serious than Melina had ever seen her...and it might’ve been Melina’s imagination, but her gait looked somewhat stiff, lacking its usual confident swagger
    Before she could dwell too long on this, they’d reached the pitch. The entirety of the camp was gathered all around it, all awaiting her arrival. The sea of green tusken faces turned to look at Melina as she approached, all looking just as dead serious as Khamina had… it was odd, she’d never seen the orcs this uptight. A nasty thought prickled at the back of her mind...had they discovered her subterfuge? Was she going to be punished? The thought made the girl swallow with fear, but she kept a purposeful stride; no sense giving anything away till she knew for certain.
    As they stepped onto the dirt and the crowd parted, Melina saw two figures. One was Chief Urza herself, garbed in an intricately-patterned long tunic and skirt to hide her...appendage. As Melina approached, she could see the front of the Chief’s skirts jump a bit… clearly the orc woman wasn’t able to hide her newly-kindled desire for the young alchemist. Standing across from the Chieftain was a slightly smaller woman, her jade skin gleaming in the morning glow. She was dressed more conservatively than most of the other orcs, wearing a draped cloak over a midriff-bearing tunic and long skirt. With all the beaded necklaces and arm-bands, It almost looked like what may have passed for shaman’s garb, though still quite a bit more exposed skin than you’d normally see on someone in that practice… Melina recognized her as Talgryn, the Orc Camp’s medic. In her hands, she clutched two large gourds of ale; one for each of them, and beside her were three full casks of ale.
    Melina approached the Chief, bending over in a bit of a bow. “Good morning, Chief Urza…” She murmured in deference to the woman. Straightening up, Melina swept her flaxen hair out of her eyes, turning to Talgryn.
    “Melina Maðurdottir…”  Talgryn began, drawing the eyes of the crowd. “You have chosen to enter into a battle of fortitude with Chieftain Urza. The stakes; immediate freedom against eternal servitude.”
    She lifted the gourds up. “Now, you will take your final relief until the end of the match.”
    Melina blinked, looking round at the assembled orcs. Was she supposed to… pee in front of them? 
    After a moment’s hesitation, Melina steeled herself. No turning back now. Setting her jaw, she pulled down her trousers to just under her pale arese, angling her hips forward and letting go her bladder, spraying the dirt with what would normally be a respectable couple minutes worth of piss, had the Chief Urza not almost quadrupled that time last night. The Chieftain smirked as Melina continued to pee, but unbeknownst to them, the faces of everyone in the crowd tightened at the sight of the golden stream pouring fourth… there were even a few wiggles here and there. 
    Melina finished up and tucked herself back away, looking at Talgryn expectantly, who nodded. “The Chief has elected to forgo the customary pre-match relief, wishing to give our young challenger a fighting chance.” She announced before handing a gourd to each of them. “Drink, and officially enter the challenge. The next time you piss, it will be either in victory or defeat.”
    Melina and Urza didn’t take their eyes off one another as they raised the gourds to their lips. They kept eye contact as they began to drink, not stopping even after they’d both drained the contents of their gourds. 

    Talgryn took the gourds back, setting them down and raising her arms. “The challenge has begun! Ghora, Ognild!” She barked, and the two orc women stepped forward, looking just as morose as everyone else...though in their faces was a tightness, almost a discomfort, that Melina couldn’t place. 
    Talgryn turned back to Melina. “These two will serve as each of your companions through the match, to make sure you do not seek relief out of the context of the match. Whomever leaks first will be awarded a penalty, and the first to pee for more than five seconds loses the match. You have until sundown to drink as much as you can, at which time you will return to the pitch. Go forth and drink.”
    Immediately, Urza picked up the cask nearest to her, pulling off the wooden top and tipping the whole thing back into her mouth. From what Melina could see, there was already a slight but noticeable bulge in her abdomen...clearly the lumencap had done its work. Within moments, the Chief had drained the whole thing, tossing it aside and licking her lips as she grinned at Melina. Rather than be intimidated, Melina let the sight direct her idle fantasies… she drooled a little imagining Urza’s rippling muscles straining as she held back an ocean’s worth of piss… Melina inhaled sharply, feeling her nipples hardening under her tunic. 
    Smirking, the Chief plucked up her other two casks and carried them, one under each arm, back towards her quarters. Ognild quickly followed after her, her steps just as stiff and metered as Khamina. Curious as that was, Melina couldn’t really dwell on it; she had three whole casks of ale to fit inside her somehow.
    Swallowing, she looked round at Orla, who stepped forward. “Let’s get to the mess hall...I think there are some clean cups you can use.” She murmured, looking over at Ghora and gesturing for her to follow.
    ~
    By midday, Melina found herself the topic of conversation at just about every corner of the camp. Word had quickly gotten around about the match, and everywhere she went she was greeted by more whispers than ever before.
    She didn’t pay too much attention, though, focused as she was on getting through the casks. Already her stomach was beginning to feel bloated, and knowing where it was all going didn’t help matters much. 
    After several more minutes, she pushed the flagon away, a hand resting on her massively swollen stomach. Her head was foggy from the alcohol, and she could practically hear the mead sloshing around in it; she was already looking forward to the pressure dissipating, despite knowing it would only manifest as a different kind of pressure soon. 
    “Pace yourself…” Orla murmured, frowning as Melina stifled a burp. “Remember, this is a holding contest, not a drinking contest. You’ve got till sundown.” 
    Melina nodded, her eyes a bit slack. “Nng...don’t s’pose I could cut this with water, could I?”
    Orla pursed her lips, looking to Ghora, who’d been silently swaying in the corner. She stopped as soon as eyes were upon her, and with a huff, she stalked off towards the well behind the mess hall to do as requested.
    Once the guardswoman was out of earshot, Orla turned back to Melina. “How are you feeling?” the blind orcess murmured.
    Melina groaned gently. “Ugh, like I just drank the Yarthian River…” She muttered. “I’ll be fine, though, I just need to...you know, catch my breath…” 
    Orla huffed gently. “You know what I mean.”
    Melina looked up at her. “I...don’t feel much of anything yet, besides that...but I did just pee five minutes ago…” She murmured with an added chuckle. 
    Despite herself, Orla smiled as well. “Well, let’s hope that lasts...Urza may have a handicap but her bladder’s still plenty big… this won’t be easy…” 
    Melina nodded, still rubbing her stomach. “I know. But I’ve gotta see it through, one way or the other…”
    Just then, Ghora returned with a pail of water, setting it down before Melina before returning to her cross armed, tight-legged stance near the door. 
    Melina looked up at her, noting now her decidedly tense and restless posture. Immediately Melina’s eyes jumped to a need for a toilet, but that couldn’t have been it...every orc on the guard relieved themselves in the morning before rounds…
    Just then, a couple orc women shuffled past the mess hall, muttering to one another as they leaned against the door..
    “...think’s gonna win? I honestly don’t know..” 
    “You’re kiddin’, right? I’ve never even seen the Chief need a piss, let alone have a mishap…” 
    “I dunno…the Chief’s been holdin’ it since last night, remember?”
    “What’s that matter? She’s the Chief, and Melina’s just a little human!”
    “Ah, that human’s pretty tough, heard her spill an almost four minute gusher the other day… and speaking of a gusher, I wouldn’t mind a slash myself…” 
    Melina frowned, now sufficiently distracted from her stomach. Both those orc women were in need of a privy as well? She turned to Orla, who merely shrugged her confusion.
    “Now? It’s not even noon!” 
    “Oh shut it, like you aren’t gagging for a pot too! Damn party...” 
    Suddenly, Melina’s eyes widened, and she turned to Orla to see the same realization reflected in hers. 
    “Yesterday’s feast…” she whispered. 

    Orla nodded emphatically. “The Chief’s mead stores…” 
    Melina swallowed. “So...they really are all-”
    Orla nodded, looking as though they were trying not to smile. “They’ll all be bursting within the hour…”
    Melina frowned. “But...won’t they realize something’s up?”
    Orla snorted. “The Kh’raven aren’t known for their deductive reasoning. Plus, they’re so prideful they won’t even openly admit it to too many others...we’ve nothing to worry about.” 
    The two whittled away the rest of the day in the mess hall; Match-participators were exempt from chores, as were their companions. Melina had started drinking again, though she was taking far more metered sips...Orla was right, she needed to pace herself. 
    As time went on, and the liquid continued to move down through her digestive system, the pressure in her abdomen began to grow. As afternoon began to turn to evening, there was a slight but noticeable urge in her lower pelvic region… and still, Melina continued to drink. 
    Orla was there to keep watch, as was Ghora, though the latter was getting more and more restless, crossing and uncrossing her arms or tensely rolling her shoulders.
    A few more orc women sidled by the mess hall, each talking in (what they thought were) hushed tones about a stronger than normal urge to relieve themselves. The idle conversations didn’t help Melina much, whose urge was steadily starting to become unignorable. 
    “Maybe we should go somewhere else…” She murmured to Orla, who blinked in response.
    “What? Why?” 
    “Cause it’s probably not best for me to hear them talk about peeing, savvy?” Melina huffed. 
    Orla pursed her lips. “Ah...good point...come on, we can hang around the smith tent...Ghora…” She said, calling to their orc companion as they stood up to leave. As they exited, though, they were treated to an odd sight. 
    True to their suspicions, an air of tension rested on the camp as orcs strode stiffly up and down the dirt paths, trying not to let on how full their bladders were getting, unaware of the reasons behind their sudden spike in desperation. Everywhere Melina looked she could see abdomens beginning to bulge out of tunics, though many were still trying to pretend as though nothing was amiss. It wouldn’t last, though...Chief Urza was not the only one in for an uncomfortable evening, it seemed. 
    ~
    Back at the compound, Urza had already drained almost all three casks, and was now reclining on her throne, watching the sun creep towards the horizon and idly fantasizing about having that pretty pink human girl service her on her throne all day and knight, making up for years of pent-up sexual frustration and chaste edging...a ripple went through the orc chieftain’s body just thinking about it. Despite her words to Melina, the matronly warrior felt she may have under-estimated how much liquid she’d been consuming. There was a definite pressure in her abdomen as a day and a half’s worth of pee sloshed around within it, a sensation Urza had almost forgotten. Just off to her right, she heard footsteps run her compound, and a moment later there was the sound of liquid splattering on the ground and a huff of relief. 
    The sound made Urza’s bladder twinge, which surprised her. “What?” She frowned to herself as she took another swig of mead from her cask...a smaller, more careful swig. 
    Ognild continued to stand by the chief, rigid in posture even as her waistband began to dig into her swelling bladder.
    “Ognild…” The Chief murmured, gazing at the guard. “You look tense.” She said, her eyes gleaming. 
    The perimeter guardswoman swallowed, and she shook her head. “No, my liege, simply...simply a bit of a cramp…”
    Urza smirked in amusement. “Ah, of course. You needn’t be coy with me, not here...I’m feeling a bit of pressure myself.”
    Ognild blinked, obviously surprised. “Y-yeh are?” 
    The Chieftain held up a hand. “Make no mistake, I’m far from bursting, but I haven’t peed in nearly two days, almost twice over what the other women in our camp have…”
    Iraz nodded, but she still looked anxious. “And still, yeh hardly looked phased…” 
    Urza grinned. “A bit of mead is no match for my strength.” She murmured.. “I will admit, I’ve not felt anything really resembling an urge in a long time...and to tell you the truth, it’s…not a bad feeling. A slight tingle, but… rather nice. Perhaps Melina was right to suggest this...I will tell her so, once I’ve made her my personal attendant. Now, run along to the pitch and tell them I am coming. The next phase is nigh.”
    Ognild’s dusky cheeks colored a bit, but she nodded. “Yes, chief...of course, chief…” She murmured, striding quickly and stiffly out of the throne room. 
    Urza watched her go, a hand drifting to her abdomen as her grin melted into a gentle frown. She hadn’t expected to feel such pressure, so soon… But she mollified herself by thinking that if she felt this way, the young man-cub must be nearly ready to pop.
    ~~
    Melina, Orla and Ghora approached the pitch again just as the sun was beginning to kiss the horizon. Melina’s gait was definitely somewhat stunted as all the liquid she’d drank had nearly all drained into her bladder. 
    Urza approached as well with an equally stiff Ognild, who looked just as uncomfortable as Ghora did, though neither orc dared voice their struggles to wide company.
    Talgryn was waiting for them, hands folded behind her back. Both Ognild and Ghora strode over to her, debriefing her on their witness throughout the day.
    Melina swallowed, trying not to be discouraged by how calm the Chief looked as they both stepped onto the pitch. The young alchemist winced as a wave of pressure throbbed in her abdomen, but she did her best to power through it; she couldn’t let on how badly she already needed to go, not right now. With any luck, being stationary would negate the urge somewhat.
    Chief Urza, on the other hand, had now been without relief for almost two days, and it had taken a great deal of finesse not to betray how full she felt...A day was normally nothing, but the added mead last night, plus the ale and wine on top of that… But no, she musn’t let on that she was feeling some pressure.

    “Right, then…” Talgryn murmured, now addressing the two contestants. “Now that the initial drinking has finished, the real test of endurance begins. The two of you will remain here, in this pitch, till one of you gives out. We’ve provided stools, if you feel as though sitting will ease the pressure.” She murmured, gesturing to the two crude wooden stools propped up in the dirt. May the best win.”
    Orla gave Melina’s hand a squeeze before she stepped back, retreating with the others until there was no one left on the pitch but Melina, Urza, and their two new witnesses who relieved Ognild and Ghora. 
    Both of them looked supremely uncomfortable and annoyed at their lot, unable to keep from rubbing their thighs together somewhat as they worked to keep tabs on the contest.
    Melina and Urza, on the other hand, looked to be of stronger will. Neither woman said a word...neither moved an inch. As the sun began disappearing behind the horizon, and the longer fingers of night began to creep over the compound, they both stood still, merely staring at one another. 
    Melina felt like her stomach was cramping; her toes curled gently within their shoes, but she still kept herself constrained to only the slightest of movements...for now.
    Urza stood across from her, hips cocked, arms crossed, and her face stone. Truth be told, the pressure in her abdomen felt like it had nearly doubled since that morning...a strong, insistent tension in her abdomen that was as worrisome as it was inexplicable. Urza had been without a serious urge and lacking the means to attend to it for so long, the waves of pressure radiating through her core felt almost foreign. Yet despite her perturbingly rapid climb up the scale of discomfort, she remained still and steady on the outside. 
    Melina was a lot less subtle...it seemed she was having a harder time maintaining an air of relaxation as she gently ground her arse down into her stool. She’d definitely surpassed the threshold she’d reached on her first night here, but still she kept still as possible, not wanting to be the first to really crack and show just how full she was.
    After a short while, though, the pressure simply became too great to conceal, and she was forced to sit upon the stool, subtly shifting back and forth upon it as she took a shuddering breath. Urza smirked at this, making Melina blush, but she reminded herself that the winner would be she who avoided peeing the longest, not she who looked the best doing it.
    Suddenly, there was a cry from across the way. All the present orc women turned just in time to see Urza’s witness stagger away, bald green head slick with sweat. No sooner had she cleared the pitch that she yanked down her trousers, getting them out of the way moments before her golden bounty spilled forward into the dirt. 
    Urza grit her teeth as she heard the liquid spilling onto the ground… she wanted dearly to cover her ears, but she was not yet willing to give this little human the satisfaction After nearly 3 whole minutes, Ognild finally ran dry, and for a moment, there was naught but silence as she staggered to her feet, moved her clothes back into place, and gave the crowd one last look before disappearing once again. 
    Talgryn huffed as she watched the orc woman shuffle off with somewhat damp trousers. “We cannot have wet dirt here, it is our easiest indicator for a penalty... We must pause the match. Melina, my liege, if you’ll both step out of the pitch...you…” She murmured, pointing to the still squirmy orc witness. “Help me get this situated.” 
    ~~
    Melina could barely walk. She was so bloated, so swollen with pee that every step was like a jackknife in the overfilled piss organ nestled between her trembling thighs. She could only hope and pray that the Chief was feeling similarly desperate or else this would-
    “Ngg...fuckin’ young pup…” 
    A voice brought Melina out of her internal struggle. Blinking, she staggered forward a bit more, peering around the corner to see Malash and Khamina, both looking far more put together than anyone else in the camp. 
    Malash looked cross, furiously rubbing a burly green arm. “Fuckin’ disgrace...” 
    Khamina took the moment to smirk down at her guardmate. “Yeh alright there, Captain? Lookin’ kinda tense…” 
    Malash scowled. “I’m fine.” She muttered, a bit too quickly. “Just...How’s that little man-cup not pissing yet? We had that whole feast for the Chief, and now we-” She stopped herself, glaring at the ground. 
    Khamina’s smug expression deepened. “‘Smatter? Yeh wantin’ a piss too, hmm?” 
    Malash’s head snapped up to glare at the smirking amazon. “Like hell I do. Little pup thinks she’s gonna see me gaggin’ for a pot, bollocks. I can go as long as I want.” 
    Khamina smirked. “Yeah? Then why’re yeh shiftin’ about like a cornered rabbit?”
    Malash’s scowl deepened. “Shut it, Khamina, I’m not doin’ nuffin of th’ sort…”
    Khamina chuckled. “If’n yeh wanna keep torturin’ yerself, be my guest. If I were you, I’d just go ahead to the privy before I embarrassed meself… after all, they’re the ones doin’ the contest, not us. No need for you to hurt yerself playin’ pretend.”
    Malash blinks, her eyes narrowing as she glares up at Khamina. “And just what the fuck is that s’posed’ t’ mean?”
    Khamina shrugged. “Look, it’s obvious yer bustin’ for a piss, so...go take it. I’ll cover for yeh.”
    Malash’s face hardened. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t yeh? Grummsh, yeh really can’t stomach that I won that match, huh. Hurts your rock-hard pride, don’t it, that I beat the big bad Khamina at her own game.”
    Khamina’s smirk lessened. “Watch it…” She muttered, but Malash didn’t let up. 
    “Why?” Malash sneered. “Y’know I’m right. Got to big for your britches, and I put yeh in your place...and you know it.”
    Khamina now turned to Malash with a full glare. “I’m warnin’ yeh…” 
    Malash sniggered, grinning wickedly. “What’s the matter? Scared the new recruits’ll stop buyin’ your puffed-up bullshit and start listenin’ to a real Captain?” She smirked. 
    Khamina’s fists balled up. “You shut the fuck up right now, you goose-stepping rot-tusk.” She hissed. 
    Malash bared her teeth. “Make me, you cock-eyed piece of-” 
    Malash’s words were cut off as Khamina lunged at her, pressing her mouth against hers with such force she felt a tooth cut into her bottom lip. Khamina’s powerful arms wrapped around Malash’s waist, roughly yanking her closer as she forced her tongue into Malash mouth, exploring every inch of it with wild ardor. 
    Malash responded almost immediately in kind, throwing her arms around Khamina’s neck and forcing her own tongue back against the invading once, fencing with it as the two orcs furiously made out, slamming up against the guard post as they did. 
    Melina could hardly believe what she was seeing; had she not been so frazzled by her own acute bladder pain, she’d have actually thought this was rather sweet...and more than a little titillating…
    She hurriedly ducked back behind the rampart, squeezing her legs together. She did not need the increased heart activity, not right now. She just had to hope that the pitch was cleaned up soon...and that Urza was hurting as much as she was.
    ~~~
    The next couple hours were torture for the two contestants as Ognild’s gush seemed to trigger an immediate need for release in the rest of them.
    All around them they could hear warriors hurrying off to the privy, finding a secluded bush or tree, or even dropping trou right tere to let forth a gushing gout of piss. One such woman had actually leaned up against the side of the occupied privy, lifting up her leg as her pee sprayed from her in a sprinkling display that caught the light of the sun, mere feet away from Urza. Melina could tell the orcish chieftain was trying not to pay attention, but the subtle clench in her jaw told Melina all she needed to know. She was feeling it, and quite intensely, too, by the looks of it. The thought seemed to reinvigorate Melina, and she felt her urge recede somewhat as the flush of adrenaline pushed down her other bodily sensations.
    Hours passed, and still neither woman budged. They refused to even hold themselves, counting on their pelvic muscles as defense against the deluge straining each of their prodigious bladders...but it was clearly taking a toll.
    Melina was beside herself hardly able to stand up straight as she hobbled back and forth across the pitch, doing her best to continue with her work despite the searing pressure between her thighs. Her supple ass swung back and forth as she curtsied and hip-cocked from one side to the other, muttering to herself that she was doing this for her freedom. Despite all the pain, all the misery, the burning pressure...she had one thing Urza didn’t. Conviction.
    She knew that her future rested on this match, and so she would hold it, with every fiber of her being, until she simply could not even stand up anymore.
    Urza was still trying to prove she had more control than Melina, but anyone paying attention could see that she was struggling...her bladder poked out from beneath her furs with such presence that it partially obscured the thick legs crossing beneath it when she thought no one was looking, despite the fact that up till now she’d managed to confine herself to the occasional pelvic tense or change of stance.
    Melina felt time slip by her in hot, searing urinary agony...she’d never even imagined hoplding this much. It was as though she had a ball of fire in her abdomen, burning her from the inside out and threatening to turn her abdomen to ash. Every breath she took was sheer torment; it felt as though her bladder were crowding out the rest of her organs as it tried to expand as large as she demanded it to. Her mouth hung open with exertion, her eyes squeezed tight as every fiber of her being was dedicated to continuing to hold on for one more second...and another...and another…
    Suddenly, a strange sound registered in her ears, traveling to her desperation-addled brain. After a few moments, she recognized it as the sound of birds chirping. 
    Opening her bleary eyes, Melina gazed up at a navy blue sky, getting lighter as forks of gold and scarlet began appearing over the horizon. 
    It was dawn; she’d officially been holding her pee for an entire day and night.
    Across from her, Urza now looked to be in an even worse state, sat on the stool and back and forth. Her face was twisted up in agony as she fought with everything in her not to gush all over the ground, her rounded abdomen distended so heavily it looked as though she were pregnant…. But still, she refused to let go, even with over 48 hours of pee bearing down on her quavering orcish sphincter.
    “Hn-n...Y-your strength is formidable, man-cub” Urza hissed through gritted teeth, glaring across at Melina. “When you become my loveslave, you can take pride in knowing it was a battle well fought…”
    Melina took a shaky breath, clutching her abdomen as she rocked back and forth on the seat. “I-it’s not over yet…” She spat back hoarsely, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood.
    Orcs had gathered to watch once more, staring in awe as their Chief shivered, squeezing her thighs together and banging a fist on her stool as she groaned through her pain. Both women were clearly on the verge of flooding their tunics, yet neither would concede...one could almost hear the sheer volume of liquid currently straining each bladder to its limits, and even further still.
    For a long while, there was nothing but the sound of sweaty bodies, human and orc alike writhing as they vainly fought the urge to obey their bodies’ desperate pleas to ease their overburdened bladders...and suddenly, there was a break.
    Urza’s thigh curled up in on itself, powerful muscles bulging beneath jade skin as she fought through a particularly hard spasm. However, it appeared that will and fortitude were not enough to stave off this particular wave, and with the bellow, Urza tore up her tunic and grabbed her quivering foot-long cock, squeezing the base as hard as she could to keep urine from entering her urethra.
    All who had gathered again to watch the match gasped...never before had their bottomless, sure-headed Chief demonstrated such a visible need to relieve herself, let alone resorted to such a crude, visceral means of containment.

    Urza’s entire muscled body trembled, her eyes fluttering and her muscles tensing as she fought tooth and nail for a few more seconds of control, even as beads of pee surged their way up past her tightly clenched dock and squirted out of her quivering glans. 
    “Penalty on the Chief!” She gestured to one of the attending orcs, who stepped forward with a gourd for the Chief to drink from...the well-endowed sovereign snatched it angrily, tipping the contents up into her mouth before tossing the gourd away, her other hand joining its sister in pinching off the long green trembling piss cannon at the base.
    Even still, she was holding on. Having drank almost double what Melina had, and held for hours longer, the busty, burly warrior had a vice grip on her crotch, her muscles rippling in her arms as she held back a river’s worth of boiling piss with naught but her will. Despite her overwhelming, nigh-irresistible urge, the woman did not let go. 
    The Kh’raven torture herself for the better part of an hour as she grabbed at her crotch, sat down, stood back up and grabbed again, pacing up and down the pitch and snorting like a wounded bull. Melina could hardly perceive any of it...her vision was blurry, her head tinged with sweat, she felt as though the pressure were making her delirious. She could feel every drop of her barely contained pee battering mercilessly down on her tender sphincter, held back only by the tiny sliver of will she kept mustering up. She was a single tree against a raging storm, and she could feel her roots about to give way.
    But before she could even birth her next thought, it happened.
    As if in slow motion, the lofty orc Chief’s woman’s thighs separated, and with a bellow, she half collapsed against the stool as her cock exploded with piss, gushing out with a force so strong it was as if someone had punctured the side of an overfull barrel of ale. The acrid foamy liquid arced into the air, catching the first rays of sun peeking over the horizon before falling down to earth. The Chief groaned again, forcing her member down and directing the stream groundward, where it hosed the dirt with such force it was actually cutting through it like a blade. The gathered orcs stood by as their revered monarch soaked the ground for all she was worth, growling in pleasured release. For several minutes, there was nothing but the noisy splatter of amazonian urine on dirt and a yowl of relief as the woman poured out what seemed to be a whole ocean’s worth of piss. 
    That was the last straw for Melina, who barely managed to get her own trousers out of the way before her own torrent joined that of the Chief. For a moment, pee roped out of her, but relief eluded her. She was so full that she had to let out a whole few flagons full just to cross the threshold into bursting...but after a moment, a wave of euphoric release washed over her, making her legs buckle and forcing her to lean against one of the pitch posts for support. 
    Her stream was a little less wide than the river flowing from the tip of the Chief’s trembling manhood, but it was no less powerful. Both streams echoed through the morning air, ringing in the day with what had to be the most ecstatic gushing pisses ever recorded in the annals of Kh’raven history. 
    Despite Urza releasing first, their streams ended at roughly the same time...10 minutes for Urza, 8 for Melina.
    “It...appears we have a winner…” Talgryn murmured to the stunned crowd, looking across at all their dumbfounded faces. 
    “Victory... goes to Melina.” 
    The rest of the course turned to Urza as she staggered upright, still shaking from the relief she’d just had. Her eyes focused on Melina, her broad chest still heaving. There was no anger on her face...no spite, nor hatred, nor ire...nothing but relief, and pure, unadulterated disbelief. 
    For a moment, silence. Then suddenly, a bevy of cheers went up from the gathered warriors, and immediately Melina was surrounded by a sea of roughhide-clad orc women clapping her on the back or on the shoulder, congratulating her on a job well done and boasting about how they always knew she could do it...a few bold lauders even got in some swats on her rear as everyone swarmed to get a piece of the human girl who’d bested their leader. Melina merely blinked as she was buffeted about...her abdomen felt numb, weightless...it was a strange sensation, even moreso than the flurry of foreign hands grabbing at her.
    Orla elbowed her way to the center of the frenzy, throwing her arms around Melina with an exclamation of glee. “I knew you could do it! I just knew it!” 
    Melina staggered a bit from the force of the hug, but she wrapped her arms around the girl anyway with an exhilarated chuckle. “Thanks, Orla, you really-” 
    “Bloody brilliant, humie!” Khamina exclaimed, laughing out loud as she slapped a dinner plate size hand on the smaller woman’s back. “Not bad for a wee little alchemist! Never seen the Chief piss so much in her life...yeh really are somethin’ special.”
    Melina was actually knocked forward by the blow, but she grinned up at the orc still flushed with the thrill of victory.
    Malash was the next, crossing her arms and glaring down at Melina. “I dunno how you did it…” She muttered. “But you really fuckin’ did it. Can’t say that ain’t impressive…”
    Melina merely smiled. “Thank you...Captain…” She murmured, holding out her hand for the orc woman to shake. Malash looked down at it apprehensively before taking hold and shaking the smaller girl’s hand.
    The surrounding women all laughed at the repartee...even the Chief uttered a gentle chuckle as she strode forward. “Yes...you’ve overcome insurmountable odds, young Melina…” The woman murmured, placing a hand on each of the younger woman’s shoulders. “It appears I...overestimated myself. A good leader knows when she’s made a mistake, and knows that her honor is more precious than her pride. You are free to go; say the word and I will have my guard escort you back to the human settlement.” 
    “Ah, she can’t go, Chief, not till after the feast!” Khamina protested, to the assent of many of the orc women present.
    The Chief looked down, into Melina’s face. “What say you, Champion? The invitation is extended…” 

    Melina smirked. “Sure, what’s another drink?” she chuckled, much to the delight of all the orcs present. 
    Later that night, the mess hall was the fullest it had ever been, with every orc in the camp present drinking and feasting and making more merry than anyone had seen them...Even Orla was right there in the mix, laughing and waving around a flagon with wild abandon as her sisters-in-arms made sure it never ran dry. No one seemed to care that Khamina and Malash were sitting a little extra close together, and in all the hubbub, no one noticed them holding hands under the table, eliciting a smirk from Khamina and a blush from Malash. 
    ~~
    The next morning, Melina stood at the throne of the Chieftain, one last time. Orla and the guard were already at the gate, but the Chief had requested final words with the young alchemist.
    The Chief sat forward, leveling her gaze at Melina. “You have taught me many things, young one...about myself, and about this tribe. Perhaps...perhaps I can do things differently, while I am Chief.” 
    Melina smiled. “Whatever you do, Chief, I’m confident the glory of the Kh’raven is safe in your hands. 
    Urza nodded. The border of man is not far from here, young one...my guard will see you through. You’ll pardon me if I do not accompany you myself...Present company excluded, orcs still do not get on well with humans… besides, there’s mead to be drunk, and I must win back the confidence of my subjects.” She murmured with a chuckle, patting her abdomen.
    Melina looked round at all the gathered orcs, smirking before looking up at the Chief. “Certainly...but before I leave there’s something else I want to do first…” 
    ~
    Chief Urza clapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to moan aloud as Melina’s hand slid up and down her behemoth member, expertly stroking the polished viridian scepter just like before. Melina’s other hand was wrapped around the Chief’s waist, gently teasing at the puffy lips of her dark dusky sex as her lips tugged on a great green nipple atop one of the Chief’s mountainous breasts.
    Melina quickened her pace, rubbing, stroking and sucking harder as the Chief began to convulse in pre-orgasm tension. A moment later, the stately orc woman erupted, shooting a thick gout of cum right against the ground out behind the mess hall, and at the same time, Melina felt a gush of girljuices against her fingers as Urza came from both sets of privates simultaneously. 

    “Grummsh’s beard, I’m going to miss that…” The Chief breathed, chest heaving as she came down from her orgasm. 
    Melina wiped her hands on the grass, giggling. “All you have to do is say the word, and I reckon you’ll have a line of lusty subjects ready to do all that and more…” 
    The Chief chuckled breathlessly. “If they are even half as skilled as you, I just might…” She breathed. 
    ~
    Moments later, Melina was hurrying out to the gate to join Orla and the guard. 
    “Where’ve you been?” Orla murmured as Melina jogged up to them. “We’ve been sitting here listening to Khamina and Malash argue forever… Why won’t they just kiss already?” 
    “I heard that, milkweed…” Malash grumbled, though completely without her usual venom. “Let’s get goin’, sooner we get the Me- the man-cub back to Man’s Country the better.” 
    Melina only smiled to herself, looking up at her orc companions as the perimeter guard was signaled to open the gate. 
    Melina sighed gently, taking Orla’s hand and gently squeezing it as the party strode out of the gate, and Melina took her first step towards home. 

    THE END 
  10. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    Sorry it's been such a long time comin' folks, but here it is. 

    Chapter 3   
     
    Cassandra’s yelp of surprise was muffled by the gag in her mouth as steamy warmth trickled up her urethra. She could actually feel it beginning to drip into her bladder. It was the most bizarre sensation she’d ever experienced; it was like peeing in reverse. Cassandra looked up to see the almost orgasmic look of relief plastered on Gloria’s face. Despite her innate disgust at being used as a toilet, Cassandra could not help but feel the sense of pride that comes from doing someone a favor, strange as it might be. The red-haired maid was obviously bursting, and Cassandra was glad that she was at least able to allow the girl relief from her four days of agony. Gloria’s stream continued full force for fifteen seconds, and Cassandra was surprised at how much the girl seemed to be holding within her slender little body.
     
    Madame Mulberry looked on at first with placid contentment. Then suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Alright, Gloria, that is quite enough. Cease your release.”
    Gloria’s eyes flew open, and her blissful smile turned into a horrified frown while Cassandra could feel the surging stream flowing into her bladder slow down and sputter before stopping completely. The young maid turned to Madame Mulberry, her face now contorted with confusion and fright.
    “B-but…but you said I could let it all out!” she protested meekly.
     
    Madame Mulberry frowned.
    “I changed my mind. We don’t want Ms. Ashton full to the brim on her first day, do we? Be grateful for what I have allowed you to let out, Gloria. Now, disconnect the catheter and get back over here.”
     
    Gloria pursed her lips and slowly, with a trembling hand, plucked the catheter from Cassandra’s urethra. Cassandra was immediately assailed by a subtle but strong need to wee, but she managed to clamp down on her urethra until the feeling passed.
    Meanwhile, Gloria stood and smoothed down her dress. Cassandra could see that the maid’s bladder was still bulging a great deal, but the bulge had gone down enough for Cassandra to surmise that she would at least be able to hold on a while longer now that she had been allowed a bit of relief. Cassandra shifted around as her bladder got used to this foreign urine. She felt an urge, but she was nowhere near full. Either Gloria had a bladder the size of a thimble, or Cassandra’s holding muscles were stronger than she’d thought. Either way, she was glad that Madame Mulberry had stopped Gloria when she did; the maid looked like she had enough pee still inside her to cause Cassandra a great deal of discomfort.
     
    Madame Mulberry smiled down at Cassandra.
    “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Oh, and don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of practice holding others’ pee…After all, my girls do have water and wine coursing through them all day, so I expect you’ll have quite a few visits! Margaret! Dominique!”
    Madame Mulberry beckoned to two young girls who looked about 11. One had bouncy blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and a round, babyish face. Cassandra thought she looked a little like Shirley Temple. The other was more modest looking, with a heart-shaped face and brunette pigtails. Madame Mulberry smiled at the pair of them.
    “Please untie and ungag Ms. Ashton, and escort her to her living quarters. Our other…special ladies should be awake now. As a reward, you are both allowed to release as much as you’d like into any of our ladies as you wish, provided you only use one, and stay away from Ms. Ashton.”
     
    The girls’ faces broke out into twin expressions of glee and excitement. Madame Mulberry smiled.
    “Keep in mind, girls, they have limited space, and they aren’t allowed relief again until tomorrow morning, so…pee wisely. The rest of you, back to bed. We’ve all got to get some sleep, we’ve a full day of work tomorrow. Off you go!”
     
    The other maids quietly disbanded, heading towards other sections of the mansion, some grumbling or rubbing their tender abdomens, others casting jealous looks at the two pre-adolescent maids who had just been granted what they were all dying to have: a good, hard pee.
    Dominique and Margaret happily trotted over to Cassandra. Dominique, the blonde one, set to untying Cassandra’s hands as Margaret pulled the gag from her mouth. Cassandra coughed and spluttered, feeling extremely thirsty. The rough gag had soaked up most of her mouth’s moisture.
    “Could I at least get some water?” she asked.
     
    Madame Mulberry grinned widely and snapped her fingers. Susanne came forth, clutching a goblet of water. She put it to Cassandra’s lips and tilted it back. Cassandra gulped it down greedily, the soothing liquid in her parched mouth feeling heavenly.
    Once her hands were free, Cassandra began rubbing her wrists. Margaret grabbed a candle from the mantle and lit it on one of the other candles. The three of them paraded out of the parlor, Dominique grasping Cassandra’s right hand, and Margaret grasping her left. Cassandra managed to catch one more glance at the parlor before they disappeared into the darkness. She could have sworn that Madame Mulberry winked at her.
     
    As they ventured down the dark hallway, Margaret held the candle out in front of them. There were no windows here, and the darkness was so absolute that Cassandra could see nothing outside the small circle of light that the candle provided. She had to take smaller steps in order to allow her body to accommodate the presence of Gloria’s urine. She could hear a faint swishing sound as two sets of tiny legs rubbed against each other as the young girls tried to contain their waters long enough to reach their destination.
     
    Finally, they came to a large wooden door at the end of the hall. Margaret pushed it open, revealing a circular room that looked like a dormitory. There was a small furnace in the center and a window on the far side of the room.
    Cassandra saw that the window was streaked with rain, and surmised that the storm must still be going on outside. She suddenly wondered where her car was, and what would happen once and her friends and family realized she was missing. Surely, they’d coming looking for her, and find out she’d been kidnapped by some forty-year-old urophiliac and her band of desperate house servants. She need only wait.
    In the meantime, she figured she might as well make herself comfortable, which didn’t seem like it was going to be a problem; the room was quite nice. There were four four-poster beds with velvet curtains, and each bed had a small mahogany nightstand next to it with a crystal mirror over it. Three of the beds were occupied, and each bed’s occupant was looking at her. The first was a brunette lady who looked to be about in her mid to late twenties, with a heart-shaped face and green, almond-shaped eyes. Her body was slender and willowy, and Cassandra vaguely wondered how she was able to hold large amounts of pee with such a slight frame.
    The second was a bronzed, toned woman in her mid-thirties with flowing chocolate hair and matching chocolate eyes. She was more Cassandra’s build; buxom, but slim.
    The third was pale, with short blonde hair and a stocky but curvy figure, with shapely hips and an impressive bust. She was attractive in a plain “run-of-the-mill woman” sort of way, and she exuded a sort of motherly affection that Cassandra warmed to right away. Her intelligent blue eyes regarded Cassandra with a kind of guilty happiness, as if she was relieved that Cassandra was here, but felt sorry for her as well. Cassandra immediately surmised that this woman must have been the original human chamber pot.
     
    Margaret and Dominique came around her and sauntered up the blonde woman. Dominique was the first to speak.
    “Madame Mulberry said we could have a pee,” she said, in a matter-of-fact tone.
     
    Cassandra was amazed at how the 11 year old girl’s eyes seemed to radiate innocence, as if she found the experience to be nothing out of the ordinary.
     
    The blonde woman sighed.
    “Alright…do you girls have a catheter?”
     
    The girls’ eyes widened and they looked at each other with horror. They had forgotten to get one from Madame Mulberry, and they both knew if they returned to ask for one, their pleas would be denied, and their bladders would go unemptied. The bronzed woman reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled one out.
     
    “I have an extra, Janet,”  she said.
    Janet took the catheter from the blonde woman’s hand as the girls sighed in collective relief.
     
    Margaret spoke up.
    “We can pee as much as we want!” she said brightly.
     
    Janet sighed, but she smiled all the same.
    “Well, alright then. Who goes first?”
     
    Dominique rushed up to Janet’s bed, already undoing her skirt.
    “Hey, no fair!” Margaret protested. “I had a lot more to drink today than you did!”
     
    Dominique glared at her. “Yeah, but you had your pee break later than I did!”
    Margaret snatched the catheter from Dominique’s hand and began undoing her own skirt.
    “No!” Dominique pouted, snatching it back.
    The girls began to bicker over who got to go first. Janet rolled her eyes and smiled gently.
    “Hey, that’s enough, you two. Why don’t you both just empty yourselves completely? I won’t mind, and I’m sure Madame Mulberry won’t.”
     
    The girls both looked at each other again, before looking back at Janet.
     
    “Promise you won’t tell?” Margaret said in a small voice.
     
    Janet smiled. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
     
    The girls’ faces lit up, and Dominique stood back to let Margaret go first. Margaret pulled down her skirt and little cotton panties. Janet leaned over, and Cassandra saw her grimace as the action squashed her bladder. Janet connected the catheter to Margaret’s little flower, and inserted the other end into herself. Margaret sighed, her high pitched little voice squealing with delight as the catheter turned gold with her urine.
     
    After a few moments, Margaret’s stream ceased. Cassandra saw Janet smiling gently, but her eyebrows were scrunched in concentration. She heard the older woman grunt, and Cassandra knew she was trying to spare Margaret the knowledge that the younger girl was causing her bladder even more discomfort. Dominique came up next, and Cassandra saw Janet’s smile falter a bit. The older woman must’ve taken a lot of pee recently and was doubting her ability to hold more. The bronzed woman seemed to notice Janet’s distress too. “Hold on, Dom…You can use me, I’ve got some room. C’mere…”
     
    Dominique sauntered over to the bronzed lady. Janet shot her a silent thank you. The woman nodded and got Dominique situated.
     
    Once the girls were empty, they pulled up their skirts.
    “Thank you!” they both said in unison, hugging the two women around the middle. The blonde woman smiled and kissed the girls on the head. Once both the girls were gone, the bronzed woman’s hand flew to her crotch.
    “Oh geez….Why doesn’t that crazy bitch let us pee more than once a day!? My back teeth are floating!”
    She massaged her peehole vigorously.
    Cassandra was surprised about the tone in her voice; it wasn’t indignant outrage, but rather a dull and complacent grumbling usually associated with people complaining about the jobs they had no intention of quitting. She found herself transfixed by the woman’s desperate plight. For some reason, she couldn’t look away.
    She was shaken out of her trance-like state as the blonde woman addressed her.
    “It seems as if we have a new face.” She murmured genially. “What is your name, dear?”
     
    Cassandra blinked. These women didn’t seem to be as freaked out and upset about this whole situation as she did. That made her a bit uneasy, but she decided to reserve judgment for later.
     
    “Erm…C-Cassandra Ashton,” she stammered, looking around at all of them. The blonde lady smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Cassandra. I’m Dr. Janet Carrington. This is Patricia-”
     
    “Trish.” The bronze woman interjected.
    Jan looked at her. “I’m sorry… ‘Trish’ Valdez. And this young lady…” she gestured to the brunette woman, who still had not said anything. “…is Margaret Graham. She usually goes by Maggie.”
     
    Trish looked up at her. “Cassandra, eh? How’d they get you?”
    Cassandra looked at her, and it took her a minute to realize that Trish was asking how Cassandra had ended up in this odd predicament.
    “Oh, erm…Well, I was lost, and I really needed to use the bathroom, so I stopped at this mansion to use the facilities and get directions.”
     
    Trish offered up a wry smile. “You were about to spring a leak and they nabbed you, eh? Pretty sure that’s how Janet ended up here…Kinda ironic, considering she was a big name urologist back in civilization…”
     
    Janet pursed her lips. “Enough, Trish. We must make Ms. Ashton feel at home for as long as she’s here.”
     
    Trish rolled her eyes. “Right, like any of us are ever getting out of here.” She laid back on the bed and squeezed herself again. “Goodness, I gotta piss…It’s all that rotten little Desiree’s fault. You know, I think she drinks a ton all day, just so she can come pee into us, like it gives her some kinda wacko thrill or something. She must’ve used me 3 times today, and her bladder ain’t a teacup…That girl can really hold when she wants to.”
     
    Janet sighed and looked back at Cassandra. “I can try to tell you some of the things I’ve learned here to make the transition easi-”
     
    “Hold on!” Cassandra interrupted. “There’s not gonna be any “transition”! Once my friends know I’m missing, they’ll come for me!”
     
    Janet pursed her lips and placed her hands in her lap. “Madame Mulberry is very good at what she does. She’s managed to keep all ofour relations off the trail with some well-placed phone calls and emails. She’s so thorough that none of our families have come to wonder why they haven’t seen us face to face in a while.”
     
    Cassandra felt her breath catch in her throat. She was really stuck at this weird mansion with its weird owner and weird bathroom schedules. She sat down on the bed. She could be stuck here for months, forced to offer up her bladder as a toilet to girls she didn’t even know.
     
    “It’s not all bad…” said a small voice in the corner. Cassandra looked around, and saw that Maggie was staring straight at her. “It’s actually quite nice once you get used to it…” she said in a low whisper.
     
    Cassandra stared at her apprehensively. Trish just looked at Maggie with plumb repulsion.
    “Weirdo,” she muttered.
     
    Trish lay there, scissoring her legs back and forth before sitting up.
    “Oh fuck it, I gotta piss!” she exclaimed, stumbling over to the window and throwing it open.
    It was still raining, but not as harshly. Trish pulled down her black leggings and hopped up on the window sill, sticking her ass out the window. Her face melted into a dreamy expression of relief as she allowed her pent-up urine to rope out of her into the watery night anddown to the ground below.
    After nearly two minutes, she cut it off. “That should hold me for a while…”
    Cassandra looked at her. “You didn’t empty completely?”
     
    Trish stared at her, as if astonished Cassandra would ask such a stupid question.
    “What, are you nuts? I gotta have something to show Madame Mulberry in the morning. If she knows I peed before the time, she’d give Jan and Maggie here the day off, and it’d be just me taking every damn drop of urine in this place.”
     
    Janet merely smiled, but she was rocking back and forth, her hands in her lap. Cassandra could tell that Trish’s release had made Janet’s desperation more pronounced. Only Maggie seemed not to be uncomfortable. In fact, she merely looked at Janet with an expression that Cassandra could only describe as placid bewilderment…with a tiny hint of lust. Cassandra was definitely gonna keep an eye on her.
     
    “So, Cass, whose pee have you taken so far?” Trish asked.
     
    Cassandra looked at her. “Only Gloria’s”.
    Janet looked up in surprise. “Really? The ornery one? Madame Mulberry finally let the poor dear pee, I suppose.”
     
    Cassandra shrugged. “Yes and no. She said she could pee, but about midway, she cut her flow off so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”
     
    Janet pursed her lips. “If Madame Mulberry stopped Gloria from filling you with all of her water, it was to inconvenience Gloria, not to help you. Madame Mulberry loves to make examples of maids who step out of line. Abusing their bladders is her favorite way of going about it.”
    Cassandra said nothing. Not only was she trapped, but she was imprisoned in a house run by a sadist.
    Janet smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. As long as you don’t do anything rash, you have nothing to fear from her. Now, come, let’s all get some sleep.”
     
    The three women slid back into their beds and Cassandra took the fourth.  She slowly undressed until she was only in her stockings and bra. It was at that point that she realized she was wearing no underpants. Blushing slightly and hoping she could find some in the morning, she got under the covers and tried to get to sleep despite the dull ache that Gloria had inflicted on her bladder.
     
    ~Meanwhile~
     
    Madame Mulberry sat alone in her chambers, groaning as she bounced up and down on her bed, her bladder absolutely bursting at the seams. Her hands maintained a viselike grip on her crotch as she rocked back and forth, trying to contain her ponderous load.
    “P-please, mistress…” she breathed, her voice low and rough with the strain of not soaking her black robes. She gasped as a bead of pee leaked past her clenched muscles, causing her to twist her legs around and bounce around even more. “Please, let me pee…I did what you asked, I only allowed Gloria to pee a little into the new woman, I made sure she had room left for her initiation tomorrow!" She sucked air through her teeth, her eyes shut tight with agonizing desperation. "Please, I've been keeping it in since yesterday morning, as you demanded! I-I can’t hold it much longer!”
    A quiet but commanding voice came from the shadows. “Oh, quit your blubbering, Mathilda,” it said, sounding slightly annoyed. “You act as if you’ve never had to hold you waters before. I've trained you better than this! You’re a grown woman, and here you are, writhing about like a schoolgirl! I’ve half a mind to make you hold it for the rest of the night!”
    Madame Mulberry merely whimpered and squirmed even more.
    The voice sighed. “But, I suppose have done as I have asked, and I am nothing if not a merciful mistress. I’ll let you get halfway to relief. Fetch you chamber pot.”
    Madame Mulberry smiled widely, removing one hand from her crotch long enough to bend over and pull the chamber pot out from under her bed. She groaned as the motion of her bending over compressed her achingly full bladder.
    “Now,” the voice began. “I want you to sit, legs spread wide, over that chamber pot, but do not release just yet. Just sit over it…and hold. Do this, and I promise that your agony will end quickly.”
    Now the voice spoke with a forced calm, as if it was trying to repress excitement.
     
     Madame Mulberry’s eyes widened with horror.
    “N-no, I won’t be able to hold it!”
     
    The voice grunted. “You will do as I say, or I will not allow you to have your way with the newest human chamber pot!” it said, the irritation in it cutting through the darkness like a blade. Madame Mulberry pursed her lips.
    “But you promised,” she pouted.
     
    The voice was silent. “Oh, alright…”
     
    Madame Mulberry hiked up her robes, revealing sheer black panties that hugged her curvaceous hips. She started gasping from the pain and muscle control it was taking to keep the chamber pot empty. The voice laughed, reveling in how Madame Mulberry continued to keep resisting the ever-inviting chamber pot nestled just under her thighs.
     
    “You may release, now, Mathilda.”
    The words had barely been uttered when Madame Mulberry’s bladder gave out. She barely managed to get her panties out of the way before blasting scorching volumes of pee into the container. She moaned in ecstasy and relief as she enjoyed the immense pleasure that peeing gave her. As she felt her bladder deflate, the voice spoke up again.
    “That is enough. Cease your release.”
    Madame Mulberry cut off her flow as the very words she’d spoken to Gloria echoed around in her head with grim resonance. “M-Mistress, I-”
    The voice cut her off. “You dare challenge my decision?!” it said, rising with anger. “Be grateful for what I have allowed you to let out, Mathilda! I may not be so generous next time!”
    Madame Mulberry bit her lip. She was still uncomfortably full, but she figured she might be able to manage at least the rest of the night. “Y-yes, Mistress. Thank you, mistress.”
    The voice chuckled in approval of Madame Mulberry’s newfound posture of subservience.
    “Now, get some rest, my servant. Tomorrow, we find out just how strong Ms. Ashton’s bladder really is.”
     
    To be continued…
  11. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    Chapter 2. 
     
     One thing about imagination; it does funny things to you when you’re robbed of your sight and cast into darkness. Cassandra imagined she was being taken to a dungeon, where she’d be tortured for her trespassing. She imagined she was being taken to the owner of this house’s bedroom, where he would rape her until he deemed her debts of breaking and entering paid in full. Maybe she was just going to be thrown outside.
    This seemed like the best option; she’d be able to at least scuttle away towards her car. Alas, this seemed like the least likely scenario. The already muffled sound of the rain on the mansion’s doors became fainter and fainter as the hands, which felt surprisingly small, dragged her further into the gloom.
     
    A particularly nasty thought entered Cassandra’s racing mind. Surely…surely whomever was dragging her along wasn’t going to killher? She calmed herself by reminding herself that the only reason they would have to kill her is if she saw their face. She was blindfolded, for Pete’s sake, it’s not like she would have anyone to point out to the police in a line-up.
     
    Suddenly, Cassandra felt whomever was dragging her halt, and she found herself being roughly shoved to her knees. She landed on something surprisingly soft, like some sort of carpet; certainly a torture chamber wouldn’t have carpet. Still, this didn’t rule out the rape theory, so she decided to wait and gather more information. She could tell that the room she’d been brought to was lit; a faint yellow light managed to permeate the cloth around her eyes.
     
    “Bind her,” spoke a deep but feminine voice in a lazy drawl.

    OK, so it seemed there was no man waiting to forcefully extract sexual favors from her.
    Cassandra would’ve sighed in relief had it not been for the gag in her mouth. The voice’s accent was definitely American, and it was melodious and rich, like molasses. The voice seemed to be bereft of hostility, but it still possessed a commanding undertone.
     
    Cassandra felt terrified and yet somehow reassured at the same time. Her muscles tensed as she heard footsteps approach her kneeling form. Her arms were brought rather gently behind her back, but they were secured roughly with a tough, scratchy rope. She heard the footsteps leave her side, and her ears prickled as she began to hear whispering voices.
    She wriggled her wrists, trying to free herself, but the rope was knotted so tightly, Cassandra doubted that even Houdini himself could manage the feat of escaping it.
    “Remove the blindfold, and take that gag out of her mouth, for goodness sakes, girls,” the woman’s voice said, sounding slightly annoyed. “Have you all forgotten your senses of hospitality? Honestly!”
     Cassandra vaguely wondered what part of hospitality dictated that a guest’s hands be tied behind their back, but she figured she was in no position to question it. She mentally prepared herself for what she might see once the blindfold was removed. She imagined all sorts of places waiting for her beyond the blindfold, and she subconsciously bit down on the gag in anxiety. She was surprised as it was lifted.
     
    The room in which she found herself looked like an old-fashioned living room, like from the ‘40s or something. A merry fire (which wasthe source of the light, no doubt) crackled warmly in a hearth.
    The soft floor turned out to be a large intricate rug in the middle of the room, deep and red in color, like a fine wine. A crystal chandelier twinkled in the firelight above her, and all around. Various paintings adorned the walls, whilst trinkets and other ornaments stood on a large oak book shelf across from the hearth.
     
    She coughed as the gag was removed from her mouth. As she finished perusing the room, her eyes came to rest on the source of the voice. Cassandra gave a startled gasp; it was the woman from the painting, in the flesh, from the raven-haired bun right down to the half-moon glasses.
    She looked a bit older than she had in the artwork…maybe early forties, but it was definitely the same woman, every bit as beautiful as the painting depicted. Cassandra figured this must be the owner of the house.
    Cassandra also took the time to notice the 50 odd girls standing around the woman’s chair, ranging from age 13 to 22, all decked out in the maid outfits she’d seen in the rooms. They looked innocent enough, but Cassandra noticed a strange tension in their faces that she couldn’t decipher.
     
    The woman smiled. “Hello. My name is Mathilda Mulberry, but my girls call me Madame Mulberry."  “This…” she said in that luscious tone of hers, gesturing delicately around the room.  “…is Mulberry Mansion. And you are?”
    Cassandra swallowed hard. “Erm…m-my name is Cassandra…Cassandra Ashton.”
    Madame Mulberry’s smile was sweet enough, but there was something off about it…something that Cassandra couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
    “Well, Ms. Ashton, might I ask what caused you to stumble upon my humble abode?”
     
    Cassandra was painfully aware of the maids’ eyes trained on her, almost like she was under a sniper’s scope. “Oh…um, well, I-I….uh…I was driving to a friend’s house…you know, after work, and, uh, it was raining really hard, and I got lost, and I really needed to pee, and-”
    Madame Mulberry’s eyebrow arched. “If I may stop you there, dear…you said, you had to pee? As in, you had to pass urine?”
    Cassandra really didn’t know why this was what Madame Mulberry was choosing to fixate on, but if it kept her from calling the police on Cassandra for trespassing, Cassandra was more than happy to indulge her. “Um…yeah, I-”

    “Yes what?”

    “Huh?”

    “’Ma’am’, Ms. Ashton. Here at Mulberry Mansion we strive for the utmost excellence in decorum and respect.”

    Cassandra gulped and continued. “S-sorry…Y-yes ma’am.Anyways, I had to pee, I had 4 Big Gulps while at work…My office is close to a 7-11…They were pretty big, I had to take a quick slash before I even started on the 3rd. I-I didn’t mean to intrude, it’s just, I reallyreally had to go, and-” 

    “’A quick slash?’” Madame Mulberry interrupted again, her face showing a slight hint of annoyance.
    “Ms. Ashton, I’d really prefer if you used less vulgar language…But as it’s your first night here, I suppose I’ll let it slide for now."
    Cassandra blinked. “What do you mean, ‘first’?” she asked slowly.
    Madame Mulberry ignored her question. “Now these ‘Big Gulps’, as you call them….How much liquid do they have in them?” Madame Mulberry asked.
     
    Cassandra could’ve sworn she heard a bit of suppressed excitement in her voice.
    She frowned at the change in Madame Mulberry’s tone. “Uh…I dunno, like 32 ounces?”
    Madame Mulberry continued to stare at her. “And you drank 4 of these, with two bathroom visits between the time you drank the first and now, correct?”
    Cassandra nodded slowly, a look a confusion on her face, not sure where this was going.
    Madame Mulberry turned to a slender black-haired maid with freckles and large round glasses to her right. “Susanne, do the math.”
    Cassandra watched as the girl began mumbling under her breath.
     
    Susanne cleared her throat. “Each Big Gulp contains 32 ounces, or 1.3 litres of liquid. Thirty-two times four makes one hundred and twenty eight ounces, or 5.2 litres. Provided that she relieved herself of the first two Big Gulps before starting on the 3rd, that would mean that before she relieved herself both times, she would have to have to be carrying a maximum of 64 ounces per bladderful, or 2.6 litres.”
    Cassandra was stunned. “Wow…that was incredible! What are you, some sort of whiz kid or something?” Susanne smiled but grimaced slightly when Cassandra said “whiz”.
    Madame Mulberry nodded and looked back at Cassandra.
    “You have quite the large bladder, Ms. Ashton,”  she said.
    Cassandra shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so…I mean, it’s what I’m known for at work…got a nickname and everything.” She couldn’t help but smile a bit with pride, but her grin soon faltered under Madame Mulberry’s intense gaze.
    “Yes…” the woman muttered. “I think you’ll do nicely.”
    Cassandra didn’t like the way Madame Mulberry was staring at her, and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the maids beginning to get restless. It dawned on her that she just might be in a hostile environment after all.
    “‘Do nicely?’ Look, Madame Mulberry, this has been fun and all, and I really thank you for allowing me the use of your…erm…facilities, but I really should be going… my friend is probably wondering where I am…As a matter of fact, I should probably call her…”
    Cassandra reached into her pocket for her iPhone; it wasn’t there. She sifted around her pocket with some confusion.
    Madame Mulberry smiled once again, but this time her grin was devoid of any fabricated geniality.
     
    “Looking for this?” She asked coyly, holding up Cassandra’s sleek black device.
    Cassandra blinked. “What the…How did you…” She continued to splutter in sheer abject incredulity until a harrowing realization turned her blood to ice; she’d left her iPhone next to the chamber pot in that room.
    “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Ashton…You should really learn to be more careful with your belongings…But, all is well…you won’t be needing this for some time anyway.”
    Madame Mulberry’s cold smile persisted as she slipped the device into the folds of her robe.
    Cassandra definitely didn’t like where this was going.
    “Now, Ms. Ashton, let me explain why you’re still here; it’s for quite an important purpose indeed."
    I’ll bet, Cassandra thought angrily to herself. Who does this bitch think she is, keeping me captive up here? As much as her head was screaming at her to run away, she didn’t dare try to make a run for it; even if she did get on her feet and to the door without any of the maids stopping her, she had no way of opening it; her hands were still tied firmly behind her back.
    Madame Mulberry merely smiled. “You see, Ms. Ashton…here at Mulberry Mansion, our girls work very hard to maintain the elegance that you see around you. They cook, clean, and tidy up, and in exchange, they are allowed to enjoy the mansion to its fullest extent. Around 3 months ago, however, there was a complication. The gates surrounding this manor have stood here for decades, and were beginning to fall apart. With all of my resources allocated to keeping the mansion up and running, I had no extra funds to repair them. After quite a bit of calling and searching, I managed to find a man who would fix them for free, provided we would give him the necessary materials.
    "As it turns out, the metal needed for the gates’ restoration was a pewter-iron alloy, a very hard substance to find. Luckily, we had a large supply of this alloy. Unluckily, it was from the chamber-pots that we use to relieve ourselves during the day. Our chamber pot cache was severely depleted in order to resolve this matter, and now only a few remain around the mansion. Because of the workload of the maids and the fact that there was simply no time to empty the chamber pots frequently enough to accommodate the strain, each girl was cut down to two respites a day; one after breakfast in the morning, and one before bed.
    Cassandra finally realized why the girls looked so restless…They were all laboring under bladders of varying fullness; and Cassandra had gone and nearly filled one of the few places these hard-working young women could relieve themselves each day. Cassandra winced a bit when she heard about the “two-break” rule. Most of her coworkers wouldn’t be able to last to the end of the morning before a trip to the loo, much less sunup to sundown; Not everyone was blessed with Cassandra’s large bladder and strong holding muscles.
    Madame Mulberry continued. “Many of our younger girls had trouble adapting to this new schedule. You see, their young and developing bladders are not strong enough to withstand a whole day devoid of relief. My older maids, having better control of their bladders than my younger ones, have often allowed the little ones to use the few chamber pots we still had.
    Of course, in order to keep the pots from filling too quickly, many have had to limit themselves to a few seconds of relief, releasing justenough urine to take the edge off, unable to allow themselves the same full relief as the young girls.
    Some of the maids even tried to sneak a second pee break in, but I quickly shut all that business down…Anyone who relieved themselves more than once a day was forced to forfeit her pee break for the next day. Of course, some girls were harder to train than others. Gloria…”
     
    A particularly fidgety red-headed maid of around 19 stepped forward, shaking slightly.
    “Please lift up your skirt.”
    Gloria did as she was told, and Cassandra gasped. Gloria’s lower stomach protruded profusely, a clear indication of the swollen bladder pulsing behind it.
    Madame Mulberry smiled. “When was the last time you had a completely empty bladder, dear?” she asked sweetly.
     
     
     
    “About 4 days ago, Madame Mulberry,”  Gloria replied and then clenched her jaw.
     
    “And why is that?”
    “Because…because I was greedy, Madame Mulberry.”
    “Yes. And now you’re aching to release your waters, aren’t you, Gloria?”
    “Yes, Madame Mulberry."
    “And you understand that for the time being, I can’t let you, right?”
     Gloria bit her lip. Cassandra could see that she was close to crying.
    “Y-yes, Madame Mulberry.”

    Madame Mulberry nodded curtly, and Gloria stepped back.
    Madame Mulberry then turned back to Cassandra. “You see? My maids are strong, but one can only go so long without full relief…”
    Cassandra looked up at Madame Mulberry from her place on the ground.
    “I-I’m sorry, Madame Mulberry, really, I am,” she stammered. “But…what’s any of this got to do with me?”
    Madame Mulberry simply smiled. “Well, our system worked for a week or so, but there simply weren’t enough chamber pots for my girls to use…accidents became frequent with our young ones, and even began to extend to our older ones…Until one fateful day, we discovered the concept of a human chamber pot.”
    Cassandra wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. “A human…wait…a what!?” she spat, glaring at the ever-so-composed Madame Mulberry.
    Madame Mulberry smiled and reached into her bosom, pulling out a long, thin piece of tubing.
     
    “Do you know what it is, Ms. Ashton?”
    Cassandra shrugged. “A bendy straw?”
    Madame Mulberry pursed her lips. “It is a urinary catheter, specially outfitted for the transfer of liquids from an overly-pressured container to another, emptier container. You are not the first woman to stumble upon my estate, Ms. Ashton. Many others have come here, lost, bound on journeys that took a wrong turn, looking for a place to stay the night, to rest, and perhaps relieve themselves of a copious amount of liquid, as you have. When the first young woman entered our house, tired and lost and bursting to relieve herself, I was kind. I gave her a place to sleep for the night, and even gave up my break for that day to allow her to use my chamber pot. My maids waited on her hand and foot, a marvelous feat considering the drawback of serving with a full bladder. The next morning, she ran into Madeline here.”
    She put a hand on the shoulder of a young blonde girl who looked about 13.
    “Madeline was on her way to a chamber pot, for the second time, mind you. Her urine was threatening to soil her uniform. The young woman, puzzled, asked Madeline where she was going, and of course, Madeline informed her that she was about to burst and was heading to violate a simple rule in exchange for temporary relief. The woman showed Madeline the utmost kindness; she knew the maids were only allowed one pee break a day, and despite the ramifications for violating this rule, it was apparent that Madeline was going to need another one. Rather than leave young Madeline to choose between either giving up the next day’s pee break or wetting her uniform, the woman took pity on her, and pulled out this catheter from her duffel bag; she was a urologist in the city before her time here.
    She connected one end of the catheter to herself and the other end to Madeline, and voila, the poor dear were able to ease the strain on her overly taxed bladder. Madeline went and told my girls about this miracle woman. However, it became readily obvious that this would need some modification as well. The maids became greedy even with this new outlet.”
    Cassandra saw quite a few of the maids lower their heads or avert their eyes in shame as Madame Mulberry continued her strange tale. 
    “More and more girls began requiring the use of the woman, completely ignoring the discipline that I’d worked so hard to instill in them. The woman was overwhelmed; even with her vast special accommodations, she wasn’t able to accept so much urine. We needed more.
    And so, my older maids began putting up signs in the nearby towns, seeking grown adult women for maid positions, offering lavish living conditions and nice pay; the only stipulation, of course, being that they had a larger than average bladder. Call it false advertising, but we were desperate.”
     
    She paused to giggle at her play on words.
    “Between the time when the first woman helped Madeline and your arrival, we added 2 more women to our collection, and they have aided us well… So well, in fact, that the chamber pots became less and less visited, many of the girls instead deciding to make use of our new women, who were only supposed to be for emergencies.
    Such a lapse in hospitality, of course would not be tolerated…Each girl you see here has not been allowed to urinate since dinner.”
    Cassandra could hardly believe what she was hearing. She just continued to stare at Madame Mulberry.
    “Originally, I was just going to let you go after you properly thanked me for the use of my home…”
    Cassandra caught the tiniest bit of lust in Madame Mulberry’s smile.
    “…but since your bladder can hold roughly 2.6 litres…Certainly more than the women we have now…that would greatly ease the pressure on my girls to limit their relief to the few chamber pots we have left, and the women charged with carrying their loads.”
    Cassandra narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what Madame Mulberry was saying. A chill ran down her spine as she put the pieces together.
    “Wait…you mean…t-the girls are gonna…they’re gonna…”
    “…Relieve themselves into your bladder, yes. Now, don’t worry about having to take everyone’s urine just because you’re new…Our other human chamber pots will show you the ropes…How to maximize bladder strength, how to clench the catheter if a girl starts to get greedy, etc. You’ll be meeting them shortly…But first, I think it’s time we made use of our newest human chamber pot.”
    Cassandra’s face reddened. “Y-you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let someone piss into me! Who in the hell do you th-”
    Cassandra felt a hand clasp around her mouth. It was Susanne.
    “You shouldn’t speak to Madame Mulberry like that.” She muttered viciously, her voice so full of venom that it took Cassandra aback.
    Madame Mulberry frowned. “I tried to be a gracious host, Ms. Ashton, but if you insist upon disrespecting me…Gwen, Felicity...put the gag back in her mouth.
    Madame Mulberry laughed as Cassandra’s mouth was bound once again. “Do not worry, Ms. Ashton…After you’ve learned some proper decorum and have accepted your position here, I’m sure we’ll become fast friends.”
    Not fucking likely, Cassandra thought darkly.
    “Gloria…” the woman called, beckoning to the red-haired maid yet again. “Come here, my dear.”
    The trembling maid stepped forward once again.
    “Gloria, do you need to relieve yourself?”
    Gloria inhaled deeply. “Y-yes, Madame Mulberry, very badly,” she responded, now positively dancing with desperation. After 4 days of non-stop fullness, Cassandra was surprised the girl could lasted this long.
    Madame Mulberry smiled even wider. “Of course you do, dear. Would you like to empty yourself?"
    Gloria looked at Cassandra, then back at Madame Mulberry.
    “I would very much like relief, Madame Mulberry.”
    Madame Mulberry stroked Gloria’s arm. “Are you sure I should let you? I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson… And you still have 15 minutes on your lockdown.”
    Gloria bit her lip. “P-please, Madame…let me pee…I promise I’ll be good…I-I can’t hold it another 15 minutes…” she pleaded, her fidgeting becoming more and more pronounced, her hand now wedged firmly under her skirt.
    Madame Mulberry put a finger on her chin, as if pretending to think.
    “Well, Gloria…you have been a good girl…You may pee, dear.”
    Gloria’s face broke out in a smile as she started excitedly towards the chamber pot near the bookshelf.
    “Ah ah ah…” Madame Mulberry taunted, her ruby red lips curled back in a coy grin.
    Gloria turned around, her fingers inches from the chamber pot by the shelf, her face tight with desperation.
    “If you want to pee…” Madame Mulberry said. “You’ll have to use her.”
    She was pointing at Cassandra now.
    Cassandra wanted to protest, but the gag robbed her of her powers of speech.
    Gloria looked at Cassandra, and Cassandra could tell she was torn between not wanting to inconvenience Cassandra, and desperately wanting to empty her bladder. After a few minutes of hesitation, Gloria took the catheter from Madame Mulberry with trembling fingers and walked over to Cassandra. Cassandra tried to scoot away, but Madame Mulberry snapped her fingers, and suddenly, two maids were on either side of Cassandra, holding her in place.
    “Prepare her, please…” Madame Mulberry told them, smiling at Cassandra.
    “Mmmph!” Cassandra’s cry of protest was muffled by the gag as one of the maids grabbed the hem of her skirt and pushed it up around her hips, exposing her stocking clad thighs and naked shaved pussy, which gleamed slightly in the firelight.
     
    Madame Mulberry clucked her tongue, her eyes gazing intently at Cassandra’s smooth thighs.
    “How indecent, Ms. Ashton, traipsing around my mansion without undergarments…” she breathed, her voice lower and a bit huskier than before. “Go on, Gloria…”
    Cassandra squeaked a bit as Gloria gently pushed one end of the catheter into her urethra.
    As Gloria pulled aside her panties and inserted the other end into herself, Madame Mulberry motioned to her.
    “Oh, and Gloria?”
    The red-haired maid looked up, her legs vibrating with desperation.
    “You have my permission to relieve yourself fully.”
    The little red head pursed her lips and then turned back towards Cassandra.
    I’m sorry, she mouthed, her eyes shining with tears. She tilted her head back and let out a sigh.
    Cassandra’s eyes widened as she saw the clear tubing fill up with pee from Gloria’s obviously overstretched bladder. Cassandra’s fingers curled behind her back as she watched the yellow liquid steadily make its way through the tubing towards her urethra.

    To be continued…
  12. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    Cassandra Ashton swore vehemently as her car sped down the highway. The rain that the weatherman had said was going to miss the town was coming down in torrents. Why they ever decided to hire a goombah like Thomas Wilkins down at the Channel 9 weather report station, Cassandra would never know. Blowing her auburn hair out of her face, she squinted into the watery dark road ahead of her as she tried to find her exit. Her headlights didn’t penetrate the inky blackness quite as well as she would have hoped. Suddenly, a tendril of lightning illuminated the sky just long enough for Cassandra to see that she’d sped past her exit.

    “Great, just f***king great!” she muttered.

    It didn’t help that the 4 Big Gulps she’d bought a few miles back was coursing through her like the Colorado whitewater rapids. She crossed her legs and squirmed as she tried to find a shoulder to get over on so she could turn around. As she drove on, she became painfully aware of three things; the rain showed no signs of stopping, she was hopelessly lost, and her bladder was really beginning to nag her now. True, she had a rather large bladder, and was known around her office as Cassie the Supertanker, but even she had a limit, and it appeared that 4 Big Gulps was it. Cassandra drove on, now wedging her hand in between her stocking clad thighs, her red skirt pushed up and opened to allow her throbbing bladder room to expand. She gasped as a small squirt dampened the gusset of her conservative white cotton underwear. Just as she was about to pull over, tear down her underwear and let it rip onto the street, she saw an exit coming up. She veered over to the side and took it, which led her down a narrower, winding lane road. The streetlights became fewer and far between. Cassandra was about to give up and turn around when another bolt of lightning lit the sky again, bringing a large mansion into view. Cassandra decided to stop in, ask for directions, use the toilet, and be on her merry way. She pulled her car up to the wrought iron gate and strangely, it was open. Cassandra had no time to ponder the curiosity of this; she had more pressing matters. She pulled her car up the long cobblestone drive. The mansion was even larger up close, and Cassandra almost decided to drive off. At that very moment a forked blast of lighting split the night sky asunder. For a second before the loud boom of the rolling thunder followed, the image of the house was burnt upon Cassandra's mind. Twisted small shapes which could only be disfigured gargoyles lined the roof and the overhangs of the flung out bay windows. Three stories tall with windows peeking out of the dark slate roof, the building seemed to rise up over the car, pulling it inwards. Shaking her head to dispel the image the storm had created, Cassandra fought back hard to contain the warm pee squirting from her pussy lips and soaking into her cotton panties. It was a stupid notion, she told herself, especially for a grown woman of thirty. She turned off the engine and pulled on her overcoat. She stepped out of her car and shivered as the rain soaked the hands drawing up her coat. Her bladder pulsed with hot urine, a real contrast to the chilling rain falling around her. Cassandra climbed the steps of the manor. It looked deserted; the windows were uninvitingly dark. Fortunately she had left on the car headlights and this provided just enough illumination for her to safely mount the steps to the main door. A quick scan of the dimly lit doorframe provided no sight of a doorbell, so Cassandra resorted to a hard knocking on the thick wood of the right hand door. Echoes of her fist falls reverberated from the other side of the door but there was no other sound apart from the constant drumming of the pouring rain on the porch roof overhead. She beat against the door again. “Hello!?” she called. “Anyone home?”

    After several more seconds there was still no response. The wind had begun to rise in the short span of time she had been stood on the steps and already the rain had begun to move in under the porch canopy. Scowling in disgust at her rapidly dampening clothing she decided that if she didn't get an answer in the next twenty seconds, then she would pull up her skirt, let down her panties and simply piss all over the steps. If was almost as if the weather had heard her thoughts. With a sharp increase in strength, a new gust of wind sent a wave of rain in her direction. Enough was enough. Cassandra reached for the door handle. It was to her intense surprise when in slid downwards in response and the heavy front door opened inwards without a sound. Cassandra fell forwards catching herself at the last moment. She tentatively crept inside. The door behind her slammed shut of its own accord, cutting off the sound of clattering rain and howling wind so abruptly, Cassandra jumped, losing another spurt to her already damp knickers. She turned back around towards the main foyer, into a dark, eerie stillness. She stood gasping for a moment dazed by the difference between the outside world and the calm indoors. She had a prickly feeling on the back of her neck that suggested she should really not be here, but Cassandra’s swollen bladder would not be denied relief much longer, and it let her know so by angrily pumping a good long squirt of hot piss into her undies, this time creating a small rivulet down her right thigh. However it took Cassandra a good few seconds to steady her beating heart and finally turn around from the door and survey her surroundings. Through the gloom she could just make out that she was stood in an imposing entrance hallway. Cold stone slabs covered the floor leading off to a sweeping staircase leading up and off to the right. Dark doorways fed off at intervals along the wall no doubt leading to various rooms inside the mansion. For now all that mattered was that the house was deserted and that Cassandra still desperately needed to piss a bloody quart. She looked around even more, but the house was most definitely empty. She considered going off in search of a restroom; it definitely beat standing here in the foyer, shivering her ass off and trickling pee down her legs. She gave herself one more quick squeeze and set off towards the large spiraling staircase in the middle of the room. As she ascended, she noticed that the rain sounded strangely muffled, as if the walls of the mansion were soundproof. She came to another hallway. She started down it, when she swore she saw a shadow move. She gasped and squirted again. She had a prickly feeling along her neck that told her that she was not alone, but she decided to press on. She felt her way about in the dark for a while, then pulled out her iPhone and turned on the flashlight. The light didn’t stretch very far, almost as if the darkness were swallowing it, but she managed to illuminate enough of the hallway to go on. She began opening doors and peering inside them to see what was inside them, and more importantly, if any of them contained a toilet. To her surprise, every room was exactly the same; two twin beds at each side of the room, with a bedstand and a lamp upon it. To the right of the bed closest to the door was a closet. Cassandra shone her light around the room and it fell upon the contents of the closet; little dresses that looked like maid uniforms, but they couldn’t have been for girls any older than 12…maybe 16 at the oldest. She continued to search down the hallway, coming upon room after room like this. Her bladder was spurting quite frequently now, to the point where she literally had to hop up and down to keep the flood inside her from gushing all over her twitching thighs. Finally, at the end of the hallway, she came to a room that was surrounded by curtains. The floor was tile, and her heels made a clacking sound that echoed eerily in the darkness as she made her way in. She was immediately startled by a portrait on the far wall. It was of a woman, who looked as if she may be a few years older than Cassandra, with bright, intelligent eyes, and a beautiful but haughty expression. Her raven locks were done up in a delicate bun, and her half-moon spectacles sat on the bridge of her slender nose. She wore what looked like a grown woman version of the maid-clothes Cassandra had seen, except rather than being lavender and white, these were black. She pulled back the curtains, and each one revealed an empty cubbyhole. Cassandra looked into nearly all of them; every cubbyhole shared one thing in common. There was a circle in the floor of each one that was lighter than the surrounding ground, indicating that something usually occupied the space. The last curtain she peered behind proved her suspicions. Sitting on the ground was a squat little cauldron-looking object. Cassandra looked into it…It was about a quarter full with some sort of liquid.
    It was no toilet, but it would have to do. Cassandra set her iPhone down and hiked up her skirt dancing on the spot, trying to drag the pot out to where she could use it. Her pee was pumping faster than she could stop it; her panties were soaking it up as best they could, the wetness running all the way from her pussy lips to the crack of her ample behind. She positioned herself over the pot. “Care to watch?” she told the portrait sarcastically as she got it into place. Seeing the pot there, ready for her use, only seemed to triple Cassandra’s desperation. Hopping up and down frantically, she kicked off her shoes. She didn’t even have time to pull down her underwear as a torrent of piss jetted from her pussy. Finally, after quite a few hours of torment, Cassandra’s bladder was finally able to relax and pour its steaming contents into the pot. She peed for what must have been minutes, and her audible sigh of relief echoed around the chamber. Once she had finished, she rose up and slid her panties off. They were too wet to wear now, so she merely folded them up and slid them under the now nearly 4/5ths full chamber pot, a little present for whomever owned this house in exchange for her relief. As she snuck back into the hallway, another shadow moved next to her. She hardly had time to register the flash of a little lavender maid dress before she felt hands grip both her arms and blindfold her. She yelped and fell to her knees in surprise before feeling a wad of cloth being shoved in her mouth. The arms began slowly dragging her away, as her screams welling up in her throat were stopped cold by the gag between her teeth.

    To be continued….
  13. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    Sorry about the wait, folks, I'm juggling quite a few projects right now... Hopefully this will tide you over until I can get to the REAL good stuff.
    Cassandra was woken from her restless sleep by someone prodding her head. She blearily opened her eyes to determine the source of the prodding. It was Trish, peering at Cassandra with those chocolate eyes of hers. The bronzed woman grinned.
    “C’mon, newbie, rise and shine. It’s time for inspection.”
    Cassandra rose and wiped the sleep from her eyes, yawning deeply. She blinked a couple times, her eyes adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the window on the far side of the dorm. The first sensation she noticed was that her desire to pee had almost doubled since the night before. Apparently, her kidneys had been working while she slept, pumping her own piss into the pee that Gloria had already released into her bladder. Cassandra bit her lip; she wasn’t sure how she was going to keep her bladder calm with pee entering it from both ends. She decided to distract herself by asking the question that surfaced in her head.
    “Inspection”? she asked quizzically, looking up at Trish.
    Trish grinned. “Yeah. Madame Mulberry inspects all of us in the morning, makes sure we haven’t peed before we were supposed to. That being said, ah…” she grinned sheepishly. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention last night, huh? I was about to pop, you know, and we piss pot pals gotta look out for each other…”
    Cassandra nodded slowly, not wanting to get anyone into trouble. Trish smiled brightly. “Thanks a million. Come on, get up and get dressed, she’ll be here soon.”
    Cassandra rose up off of the sheets and swung her legs over the bed. She stood and immediately pressed her thighs together as gravity worked its magic on her bladder. Trish laughed. “Yeah, you’re gonna want to watch that. Can’t make any sudden moves, not when you haven’t peed all the day before. Also, going to sleep with a full bladder is gonna be a pretty regular occurrence, so you’re gonna have to get used to that, too. Oh look, someone dropped your outfit off!”
    Trish rustled around in the closet, pulling out a simple black French maid skirt and top, complete with stockings and black heels.
    Cassandra looked at the ensemble, then back at Trish.
    “You’re joking, right?”
    Trish merely grinned and laid them down on the bed.
    “Madame Mulberry wants us all to look uniform. The black is just to distinguish us from the regular maids. Try it on; you may need to have it altered (if she's a prisoner. she's not going to be able to get it to a tailor, now is she? one of the other maids will have to alter it for her, i think.) to let the waist out a little, probably, so your bladder will have room to expand throughout the day. Ooh, good news,” she muttered as she reached into the outfit’s breast pocket. “Looks like they got you some new panties too.”
    She tossed the underwear to Cassandra, who caught it and held it up, pinching the corners of the undergarment with her fingers as she examined it. It didn’t look too outlandish; just a pair of silky but conservative black panties with a little lace trim around the waistband and leg openings. She turned it around and was surprised to find a small, perfectly circular hole in the front of the panties towards the crotch area.
    “Uh…I think these are ruined…” she said, handing them back to Trish. Trish turned and looked at the panties before looking up at Cassandra. Much to Cassandra’s surprise, Trish began to laugh.
    “You’re hopeless, Cass. Everyone’s panties are customized like that. The hole sits right around your urethra, so you don’t have to worry about pulling your panties down every time you connect the catheter. It’s crass, but efficient. With the number of times that the maids pee every day, pulling your panties up and down would give you a rash. Now, will you hurry up? Madame Mulberry’s gonna be here any minute, and I am not giving up my morning slash because you’re too much of a prude for the dress code.”
    Cassandra picked up the garish outfit with apparent disgust. She looked around; Janet and Maggie were already mostly dressed, pulling their stockings up their pale thighs. Cassandra sighed and stepped into the panties, sliding them up her thighs until they were flush against her crotch. Having her whole crotch covered except for a small part of her pussy where her urethra was located was a strange sensation. She had to admit, it was kind of… exhilarating.
    Just then, Madame Mulberry appeared in the doorway, her black robes trailing behind her as she strode inside. Her somber appearance seemed to leech the light from the room. She smiled around at Cassandra and her three bunk mates.
    “Good morning, girls…I trust you all had a wondrous night of sleep?” She fixed her cold steely gaze on Cassandra. “Have we made our newest guest feel welcome?”
    Cassandra glared back at Madame Mulberry. Madame Mulberry’s icy grin persisted under Cassandra heated stare.
    “Alright, you know the drill, line up!”
    Cassandra saw Maggie, Janet and Trish quickly arrange themselves into a single file line, each facing Madame Mulberry. Cassandra reluctantly stepped in line next to Maggie, whom unlike Trish and Janet, had her head lowered in a demure and docile manner. Madame Mulberry smiled. She strode over to Trish.
    “You’re first today, Patricia…” she murmured as she reached her hand towards Trish’s abdomen. Madame Mulberry’s face took on a serious expression of concentration as she probed around Trish’s abdomen, gauging the fullness of her bladder.
    “Hmmm….Your abdomen is a little less firm then I remember…I could have sworn that yesterday it was as tight as a football….you know how much Miss Desiree favors you…” she said, that steely grin as cold as ever.
    Trish said nothing, but Cassandra saw genuine fear in her eyes, and she wondered what about this mansion, besides having your bladder used as a toilet, could have a grown woman so frightened.
    “…But perhaps,” Madame Mulberry mused. “Yes, …I must have been mistaken. Surely there was no pee released last night without permission…was there, Patricia? We wouldn’t want another Amazon trial, would we?”
    Cassandra saw Trish swallow. She hesitated for one second before shaking her head. Madame Mulberry nodded.
    “No, of course not,” she said quietly, her voice dangerously soft. It sent shivers up Cassandra’s spine.
    Madame Mulberry continued to move down the line, now in front of Janet.
    “Ah, how’s my seasoned veteran doing?” she breathed, probing around Janet’s round and bulbous abdomen. Cassandra could tell Janet was trying hard not to wince. Madame Mulberry’s smiled widened ever so slightly, and she massaged Janet’s bladder a bit more vigorously. Janet’s thighs began shaking under the pressure of this onslaught. Madame Mulberry laughed humorlessly and stepped away from her.
    “Nice and taut, just like I left it after lunch…Oh, and by the way, thank you for that.” Cassandra barely managed to stifle a gasp as Madame Mulberry placed her lips against Janet’s for a moment or two before pulling away.
    She approached Maggie, who still had her head lowered. Madame Mulberry’s smile widened as she stepped closer to Maggie. However, instead of reaching forward and merely brushing Maggie’s abdomen with her hands, she chuckled and lifted up Maggie’s downturned head.
    “I don’t even need to check you, do I Margaret?” she whispered. Maggie said nothing. Madame Mulberry nodded. “I don’t have to feel it to know that your bladder is hard as a rock…I wish all of my girls were as dedicated as you…” she murmured.
    Finally, she was down to Cassandra. Cassandra felt Madame Mulberry’s icy stare burning into her flesh. She felt the hands caress her abdomen, though these hands were not rough and nonchalant, but gentle, and smooth. Cassandra felt the hands move upwards past her stomach to the skin just under her bosom. She shuddered and wanted to shy away, but she wasn’t about to give Madame Mulberry any excuse to punish her. Cassandra felt Maggie squirm next to her, and suddenly, Madame Mulberry’s hands were withdrawn.
    “Was that a squirm, Margaret? Surely your bladder control is better than that?” She chuckled before turning back to Cassandra.
    “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, Ms. Ashton. Now, I must attend to the maids. They should be awake by now, and they’ve been holding all night, so expect a good turnout this morning! Breakfast is in 20 minutes. After that, you all will get your morning pee, and then the first round of maids will be round to use you. Ta-ta!” Madame Mulberry swept out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.
    Trish exhaled as soon as she was gone. “Aye dios mios, I can’t stand her…” she grumbled. “Thanks for not ratting me out, you guys…” she said, looking round at them all gratefully. Janet smiled genially. Maggie said nothing. Cassandra nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
    Trish beamed. “Well, come on, let’s hurry and get breakfast over with so I can finally take a real piss…” Trish strode out of the room, closely followed by Maggie. Janet and Cassandra lagged behind.
    “W-what was that, her kissing you on the mouth like that?” Cassandra asked.
    Janet sighed. “Oh, that’s just how she shows affection, it’s nothing, really.”
    Cassandra frowned. In the short time she’d know Madame Mulberry, she really didn’t seem like the affectionate type. But, if she was gonna be stuck serving the woman, she might as well try and invent a humanity for her. The two women exited the room and entered the hall. Cassandra looked around in awe.
    The mansion looked much different during the day; the walls were slated mahogany, adorned with 19th-century sconces and various paintings, save the few interruptions of doors. A long, velvet carpet ran along the floor all the way to the staircase. Janet and Cassandra made their way through the hallway, Cassandra’s steps small and mincing due to her uncomfortably full bladder. They passed by a set of double doors, and Cassandra realized that that was the parlor she’d been in last night. They finally reached the grand staircase. Cassandra looked down its spiraling form, her head then craning upwards to see the soft buttery sunlight pouring through the windows, creating little pools of golden light on the floor below. Janet swept past her, and Cassandra couldn’t help but notice that her skirt had ridden up a bit, exposing a bit of her ample bottom. Cassandra found herself staring and shook her head, following Janet downstairs, keeping her hand on the wrought iron handrail as they descended.
    When they reached the main foyer, Janet turned right through another set of double doors. Cassandra followed into what looked like a Grand dining hall.
    The ceiling sloped high above them, set with rafters of pine and cedar. At the far end of the room, a large furnace stood, crackling merrily. Spanning the entire length of the room was a large dining table, laden with plates of sausage and bacon, pancakes and waffles, scones, fruit, jams, jellies, eggs, coffee and even oatmeal. Seeing the food prompted Cassandra to realize just how hungry she was, and she felt her mouth salivate. Scores upon scores of maids were already seated at the table, tucking into the delicacies.
    Janet strode over to where Trish and Maggie were sitting, at the end of the table. Trish smiled when Janet and Cassandra sat down.
    “Well…” she muttered around a mouthful of waffle. “This place may be twisted, but they make a damn good waffle.”
    Maggie continued to say nothing, only opening her mouth to eat the pieces of pineapple on her plate. Cassandra couldn’t quite place it, but there was something sort of off about that girl. She decided that she’d try to find out what later. For now, she was ravenous, and her hunger had to be satiated.
    Once everyone had eaten their fill, Madame Mulberry rose and clapped her hands together.
    “Alright girls, now that we are all fed and watered, we have a lot of work to do today!” She reached into the folds of her robes and pulled out a sheet of parchment. She lowered her glasses a bit and peered at the page.
    “Patience, Prudence…” she gestured to a set of blonde twins that looked about 19. “You take your section up to the parlor…That room needs its morning dusting.” The twins nodded and rose from the table, leading a group of about 14 girls out the double doors. Madame Mulberry was still fixated on her sheet.
    “Gloria and Susanne…” she said, pointing at the black haired girl and red haired girl from the night before. “You take your group to the greenhouses, make sure the hydrangeas are getting the water they need.”
    Gloria and Susanne both curtseyed and followed Patience and Prudence with a similar number of girls in tow.
    “The rest of you…” Madame Mulberry began, rolling up her list and putting it away. “Clear off the table, and then wait for me here. You all will be the first to use our chamber pots today. Be wary, however…I suggest you hold on as much as you can before using them…You all know the rules about how many breaks you get. Also, only 6 girls to a lady today! If you are seventh in line, you’ll just have to hold it and hope that one of the chamber pots has mercy on you. And absolutely NO touching each other until I tell you that you can! We don’t want any Amazon trials, do we? No, of course we don’t. Alright, off you go!”
    The girls began getting up and clearing the plates off the table, chattering to each other. Cassandra saw some of them shoot her a furtive glance before grabbing themselves under their dresses. Others were determinedly not looking at her, and she surmised that they did not want to admit that they need her assistance. Cassandra looked round at Trish.
    “No…touching each other?” Cassandra squeaked. “Does she mean that the maids are…are…”
    “Lesbians, yeah.” Trish said, grinning. “Not all of them started out that way, of course. But, there’s no dick in the whole place, and a girl can only go without sexual contact with others for so long…It’s like the mansion twisted their minds. They began turning to each other to satisfy their desires. Those who don’t participate usually just sit back and watch, wanking themselves and hoping they get out of here before the craze takes them over too.”
    Cassandra swallowed. If the mansion’s lure was strong enough to sway sexual orientation, she decided she’d better be careful. Although, if she were to swing that way, a bronzed beauty like Trish wouldn’t be a bad way to go….No! What was she thinking? Cassandra shook her head rapidly, trying to clear such thoughts from her head. Her imagination was scaring her more than Madame Mulberry herself did.
    Trish looked at her. “You alright, Cass? You look spooked.”
    Cassandra blushed as she looked away from Trish.
    “I-I’m fine…” she murmured. “Could you just…show me where the bathrooms are?”
    Trish grinned. “Sure. After all, wouldn’t wanna try taking a whole day’s worth of pee without getting rid of the previous one’s, right? Come on.”
    Trish stood up and beckoned to Cassandra to follow her. Cassandra rose hesitantly and made her way out of the dining hall off to right wing of the castle.
    ~Meanwhile~
    Madame Mulberry was back in her office. Her black robes were open, her large, plump tits spilling out of the fabric. She sat, spread eagled, as two hands ran all over her body. One hand was massaging her left breast, the other delving in and out of Madame Mulberry’s simmering pit. Madame Mulberry groaned, bucking her hips in time to the finger’s probing her velvety walls.
    “M-mistress…” she cooed, a thin line of spittle running down her chin as she was fondled.
    “I saw how you handled Ms. Ashton today, Mathilda.” The voice said, quiet but annoyed. “I thought I told you to keep away from her until your end of the deal was upheld.”
    Madame Mulberry bit her lip, and for a moment, only the squelching of the fingers plunging in and out of her pussy could be heard.
    “I…I apologize, mistress…” she said.
    The voice huffed. “Do not insult me with your hollow apologies. You have grown tired of your mistress’s hands, haven’t you? You wish it was Cassandra, fondling you and finger-fucking your pussy, do you not?” Madame Mulberry merely whimpered. The hands increased their speed, causing Madame Mulberry to cry out in pleasure. “I know what you desire, Mathilda…I knew from the moment I saw you gaze upon her. You wish for her to share your filthy bed with you?”
    Madame Mulberry said nothing, still whimpering incoherently. The hand on her breast twisted her nipple harshly, causing Madame Mulberry to cry out in pain. “ANSWER ME!” it demanded.
    Madame Mulberry's lip trembled. “Y-yes, Mistress, everything you’ve said is true! J-just let me cum!”
    Her mistress laughed cruelly and shoved Madame Mulberry away. The dark-clothed woman fell to the floor, shaking, her pussy still glistening with her sexual frustration.
    “You will have her when I say you may have her. Until then, you must be content to tease her. I don’t care how many times you masturbate to the thought of her, as long as you do not attempt to seduce her until I say she is ready. Do you understand?”
    Madame Mulberry nodded.
    “Good,” the voice said, calmer now. The hands helped Madame Mulberry to her feet. The mistress grabbed Madame Mulberry’s face and pulled her into a deep kiss before letting her go.
    “Now get back to work, Mathilda. I do hope we won’t have to have this conversation again.”
    Madame Mulberry nodded and hurried out of the office, shutting the door behind her.
    -To be continued...
  14. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    I promise to update more often, you all, please don't hate me. 

    Chapter 5    
     
    Gloria brushed her fiery scarlet hair behind her ear as she continued down the hallway, Susanne next to her. She rubbed her swollen abdomen and sighed. She’d been so ready to let loose and finally be rid of the nagging urge between her legs last night, an urge that she’d grown so accustomed to she’d almost forgot what it was like to be completely empty. Usually, she measured her liquid intake so that it would stay in direct proportion to her allowed pee breaks…Until of course, she’d gotten put on bladder lockdown for peeing a little too much. She still remembered how she had gotten into that mess in the first place…How a couple weeks ago, little Romilda had too much chocolate milk at breakfast and was about to spring a leak in the study, despite having already had her morning pee…how Gloria had let Romilda use her chamber pot in order to spare Romilda from having to violate the one-pot-use-a-day rule. As a result, Gloria had an even fuller bladder than usual when it came round to dinnertime. She knew that Madame Mulberry went around to check all the chamber pots after dinner to make sure no one had peed extra during the day. Gloria had waited until about a half hour after supper to kip up to her room, already dribbling in her knickers, and take a good hard wee before bed. To her horror, however, Madame Mulberry walked in on her mid-stream on her rounds to call “lights out” for the room. Gloria tried to explain what happened, but Madame Mulberry wouldn’t hear it. The next morning, there had been an announcement at breakfast. Gloria could still see the sardonic and mirthless grin on Madame Mulberry’s face as she announced that since Gloria was so fond of giving up pee breaks, her toilet became open to everyone but her. She’d even gone so far as to allow everyone a second pee break that day, and some of the more malicious girls always made sure Gloria was around to watch. They had groaned profusely and sigh melodramatically as Gloria’s own bulging bladder was tormented by the sound Madame Mulberry had even forced Gloria to empty the pot 3 times of its pee, an agonizing task for someone in her state.

    Shaking the memory of that nightmarish occasion from her head, Gloria led the girls around a corner and out a side door that led to the greenhouses. Rows upon rows of vibrant foliage, aromatic blooms and soft, supple buds spilled from the shelves, the concrete floor beneath them and opaque walls around them damp with condensation. To the right of the doorway stood a shelf teeming with gardening gear; shears, watering cans, hoes, clippers, and bags of rich, pungent mulch. She knew Madame Mulberry was punishing her by giving her this task; the act of watering flowers was torture on a full bladder, especially since every girl here had one. Susanne walked in after her, giving her a concerned look as she made her way to the front of the pack. “Ok, everyone, listen up. All this running water is gonna be tough, but if we power through it, we can get back to the main hall and pee…Alright?” She pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose and began divvying the girls into groups for each section of the greenhouse. Gloria sighed and grabbed a watering can from the shelf. The rest of the girls followed suit. Gloria strode over to the tap, a metal pipe protruding from the wall with a nozzle attached to the top. She sighed and squatted down, wincing as the action put pressure on her bladder. She turned on the tap, and immediately a strong stream of water began pouring from the faucet into the bucket. Gloria bit her lip as the running water worked its magic on her bladder’s psyche, and by the rustling of pantyhose and stifled groans behind her, Gloria could tell that she wasn’t alone in her discomfort. Once she’d filled up her water can, she stepped away to go to her section. She figured it’d be best if she started at the end and worked her way back towards the door.

    As she was finishing with her third plant, most of the girls had broken off and taken to a section of shrubbery. She felt a hand on her ass and turned around to see a girl about 18 with bouncy blonde curls and deceptively innocent brown eyes smiling lasciviously at her. “Hey, morning Glorie…” she cooed, giggling. Gloria merely rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. “What do you want, Desiree?” she muttered. Desiree was the most promiscuous girl Gloria had ever met. She arrived at the mansion several months back, a couple weeks after Gloria did. Word round the mansion was that she was brought up in a Catholic household with very strict parents. You’d never be able to guess that from her permanent “come hither” smirk and general absence of undergarments on a daily basis. She spent so much time feeling up with other girls that she’d earned the nickname ‘Des the Lez’…Not that she was the only one. Many girls sought release and comfort in each other’s arms here, Gloria being one of the few exceptions. She just couldn’t bring herself to lose control like that.

    Desiree pouted. “Don’t be huffy, Gloria, I just came to say hello and see how you were doing. You must be feeling sooo much better after Madame Mulberry finally let you pee...But I was a little disappointed. You looked adorable writhing around, a cute little bump in your belly from all the water you had to hold…Oh, and thanks for letting me use your chamber pot while you were on hiatus…Though you would’ve made a much better toilet.” She cackled maliciously.

    Gloria grimaced as Desiree’s words made her bladder throb. “Look, Desiree, either say something important or clear out, I’m trying to finish this up.”

    Desiree’s grin went on unaltered. “Oh, don’t be such a prude. That’s your problem, Gloria, you never let yourself have any fun. You should learn to enjoy holding it…It feels fantastic if you let it. Plus, I get to pee into that sexy Hispanic chick, Trish. Seeing her face as I flood her, it gets me going every time. She won’t admit it, but she loves it. Someday she’ll realize it, and she’ll beg to hold my pee for me.”

    Gloria scoffed in disgust. “You’re insane, Desiree.”

    Desiree shook her head. “No, I’m horny. There’s a difference.” She reached down and rubbed Gloria’s thigh sensually. Gloria slapped her hand away. “Get off of me!” she cried indignantly.

    Desiree’s smile was gone now, replaced by an ugly sneer. “Whatever. I don’t have to waste my time here anyway. Sooner or later, you’ll be coming to me, Gloria.” With that, Desiree roughly pulled Gloria’s head up by her hair and pressed her lips against hers violently for a moment before shoving her away and getting up to move to a different section.

    Gloria fervently wiped at her mouth with the back of her arm, glaring at Desiree’s retreating form. Despite her annoyance with the lusty blonde, Gloria couldn’t deny that she’d often thought about “swinging that way” during her time at the mansion. Come to think of it, Desiree did have a firm and supple ass…No! Gloria thought to herself, horrified at the impure thought that had unwelcomely manifested in her mind. Shaking her head vehemently, she continued to water the plants, breathing heavily as the water trickled from the can head onto the delicate blooms below. How Gloria dearly wished to be the can, releasing its liquid contents gracefully and leisurely. The can could hold its limit infinitely, and was not bound by the same agony that gripped Gloria’s bladder for the past few days. Gloria suddenly pulled her hand back, ceasing the water flow, the rest of the liquid sloshing in the plastic container. “That’s enough for now…” She whispered waspishly to the can. “Oh, I bet you thought you were gonna let it all out. Too bad. You’re gonna hold this water in you for as long as I say.” She raised her arm and let a few more beads of water drip from the spout. “It must be horrible, not being able to let it all go…” she murmured, gently rubbing between her own legs. She turned around to look at her group; it was the same story all throughout the greenhouse. All around her, the girls gripped their watering cans with slightly shaky hands, their stockings creating a soft *rasp, rasp* sound as their thighs rubbed together incessantly, their panty covered bums bouncing gently in time to the agonizing rhythm of their swollen bladders. A soft rumble of groans and moans from the desperate women could be heard under the infuriating *pitter patter* of water on plants.

    “Water the plants…” a young raven haired woman down the way muttered as she gave herself a squeeze. “Oh, I’d definitely love to “water” these plants…” she huffed. She looked over at Gloria, who was glancing at her with mild disdain. The girl scoffed. “C’mon, Gloria…We both know Mulberry won’t notice if we’re a few drops lighter…God, I’m about to burst.” Gloria saw her look around before scooting closer to the plant and discreetly pulling her panties aside, releasing a few spurts into the soil. It was illegal, and forbidden…And it looked like it was heaven to take the edge off. She even saw a few women look down at the act and follow suit. Even Susanna, the “teacher’s pet” of sorts, was siphoning off some excess water into the plants. Just as Gloria was about to do the same, Madame Mulberry walked by to inspect their progress. Most of the women had gotten their panties back up in time, so Madame Mulberry didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The women let out a collective sigh of relief.Not the relief they desired, but relief nonetheless.

    Gloria sighed as she looked back at the ever-inviting soil in the pot, more than ready to absorb a small discharge of liquids to ease the burden on a very full bladder. It was a perfectly reasonable solution to their problem, but everyone lived in fear of the repercussions that would befall them if they were to turn the greenhouse into a full-out ladies’ room. After all, Madame Mulberry could come back by here, and were she to catch any of them in a compromising position…
    After a few more ferns, Gloria deemed her section well-hydrated and stood shakily, gasping a bead of her golden nectar made its way past her clenched thighs. By the time she’d gotten back up to the front of the greenhouse, the desperation was reaching a fever pitch. Even Gloria was focused more on grabbing her own crotch than that of the girls around her.  It was becoming apparent that the small squirts into the ferns had brought very little comfort; the collective bladder was tiring, it was going to spill over soon. Susanne curtsied her way to the front of the group, her thighs rubbing together as she shimmied in place. “O-ok, girls, good work. “ She said, looking over at the array of squirming women before her. “N-now, let’s hurry back to the dining hall, huh? Madame Mulberry doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and I don’t think any of us will make it till the next allotted time at lunch, so move as quickly as you can!” The girls all put the cans up and went about straightening up the room. One of the little ones squealed as the crotch of her panties became damp and a stream emerged. Susanne quickly thrust a watering can underneath the girl until she managed to cut off the flow. Susanne disappeared back into the rows to evenly distribute the urine throughout the pots. Many of the older women looked understanding, but a few of the younger ones were glaring at the little girl, jealous that she’d been allowed more relief than they. Susanne returned to the front of the room, still squirming. None of the women could stand still; it was time to return to the dining hall and gain relief from their aching bladders. They filed out as quickly as they could, heading back down the hallway towards the hall. Once they reached it, they found the tables cleared. Only Cassandra and the other human pots were there, Gloria noticed. The rest must’ve gone to use the regular chamber pots. Susanne turned to the group she was leading, who were peering anxiously into the room, looking for signs of relief. Susanne shushed them. “Ok, those who are able to wait, go to the resident wing and use the chamber pots there. Those who can’t, try and get in line, but no pushing!” As soon as she’d gotten done, the women all rushed past her trying to get in line. Gloria managed to get the last spot for Cassandra, the girls in front of her wincing and doubling over. Gloria looked back and saw Susanne standing there, clutching her crotch. The poor girl had been so distracted by the briefing that she had been unable to snag a spot quickly enough. Gloria saw Susanne’s face, worry and hopelessness overcoming her face as she scanned the lines, hoping, praying that one of them had 5 or less people, but it was useless. She was out of luck, forced to hold in the unbearable amount of pee she’d accumulated and hope that one of the women decided to be merciful. As much as Gloria pitied her, her desperation would not allow her to think past the swollen bump in her abdomen. She looked back around and saw Desiree sitting in front of Trish, her pee streaming from her into the bronzed woman. She contorted her faced in disgust at Desiree’s expression. She couldn’t tell if it was relief or arousal; probably both, knowing her. The minutes wore on, and Gloria was dancing shamelessly now, as were the girls last in line for the other women. She looked down the way and saw Janet, Trish, and Margaret, all with protruding abdomens now, wincing as the last girl came forward to tax their struggling bladders some more. Gloria sat down in front of Cassandra, wincing as the action squished her bladder. She took the catheter tip and began working it into her urethra, trying not to look at the bulge in Cassandra’s abdomen and how much she’d be adding to it. She slacked her grip on her pelvic muscles just enough to get the stream started, and it steadily grew until it reached Cassandra’s pink urethra, flowing into the woman just like it had last night. Gloria kept her head down, trying to block out Cassandra’s heavy breathing as the woman struggle to accommodate the pressure. Gloria continued flooding Cassandra’s bladder in her pee until she was at such a point when she had to force the last few drops out. Relief, sweet, blissful, empty relief, washed over her as her bladder was empty for the first time in an age. Gloria slumped down, the catheter still inside her, sighing contentedly. “Ooh, that felt good…” she groaned.

    “That makes one of us…” Cassandra managed to grunt. Gloria forced herself to look into the woman’s eyes. She still looked unsettled and on her guard, but there was a kindness in her eyes, as if she were genuinely glad to help Gloria. Gloria felt a huge surge of affection for Cassandra, and it made her blush. “T-thank you…” she managed to stammer before disconnecting the catheter and standing up quickly, hurrying away. Susanne hurried up to the four ladies. “P-please, can any of you help me? I’m about to lose it!” she cried,  the bespectacled girl clutching her tight, swollen bladder. Janet and Maggie were already leaving, and Cassandra rubbed her bloated abdomen.  Trish looked at the girl with a slight degree of pity. “I’m sorry, kid, but…it’s gonna take a little for me to keep this in, thanks to that little slut Desiree, and we can’t have you flooding the newbie. You’ll just have to get to the pots on the second floor.” Susanne groaned and her dancing got more sporadic. “B-but I can’t wait till the second floor!” she moaned, feeling her hold begin to crack. She was going to burst, she knew it, it was just a matter of when and where. In a blind moment of panic, Susanne rushed from the hall, hoping she could at least make it back to the greenhouse before she lost the flood. At least there she could wash away the evidence.

    Gloria looked back at Cassandra, who gave her a small smile. Gloria returned it half-heartedly, blushing as she left the hall, heading towards the second floor to help with the dusting.

    ~MEANWHILE~

    Susanne was in dire straits. She’d forgotten that the greenhouses were set on a lock (one of the only pieces of technology in this house) and would not open until the next watering session, that evening. Tears began to bead up in Susanne’s eyes almost as fast of urine began to bead up on her tired pussy lips. Susanne ground her hands into her crotch, looking for something, ANYthing, that would prevent her from soiling herself and getting in trouble. She suddenly spotted Madame Mulberry coming down the hallway. Susanne did her best to straighten up and look normal. The action caused a white hot blade of pain to rip through her bladder, nearly causing her to cry out in pain, but she held it in. Madame Mulberry cast an inquisitive look at her, and her eyes dropped to her bloated midsection. A knowing smile came over the cold woman’s lips. “Ah, weren’t able to snag a place for a chamber lady, were you, Susanne? Aw, look, you poor thing!” She said, approaching Susanne and rubbing her abdomen, causing the girl to flinch. “You’re absolutely busting at the seams, aren’t you? Come with me.”

    Madame Mulberry took Susanne’s hand and led her away from the greenhouse. She half led, half dragged the leaking Susanne to her study, where she ushered her in and closed the door, unfastening her robe. “Quickly, dear, bottoms off if you don’t want to ruin the rug.” Susanne didn’t quite understand what was happening here, but if it meant relief, she was all too willing to comply. She hiked up her skirt and tore her panties, damp with liquid, down her legs. The absent of panties proved too much of a psychological blow for Susanne, and an involuntary spurt of urine jetted from her sore lips, wetting her panties even more around her ankles. Madame Mulberry had opened her robes, revealing a black lace bra and matching panties. “There’s a catheter in my desk, Susanne. Grab it.” Susanne did as she was told. A catheter? Did Madame Mulberry have a secret Chamber lady for her own personal use? She went around to the desk at the far side of the room, rummaging around for the catheter with one hand while the other was plugging up her twitching peehole. Finally, Susanne’s hand closed around the tubing, and she handed it to Madame Mulberry. “M-Madame, if I may ask…There are no Chamber Ladies around. What am I to do?” Madame Mulberry smiled. “Isn’t it obvious, dear? I’m going to be your Chamber Lady right now.” She hooked the catheter up to herself and then up to Susanne. It had barely been fastened when Susanne let out another involuntary jet of pee. Madame Mulberry smiled. “Come on, dear, let it go.” It took a little bit, but Susanne finally managed to coax her tightly clenched bladder to relinquish some of its control, resulting in a stream that traveled up the tubing into Madame Mulberry’s urethra. Susanne had to fight to stop her stream from becoming a powerful jet and blowing the tubing right out of her. In a way, keeping her urine output light and manageable was almost harder than keeping it in. Finally, she managed to get to a point where it no longer hurt to go slow, and she moaned in relief as she continued to pee into Madame Mulberry. About halfway through, she began to pull back on her stream, certain that Madame Mulberry’s hospitality only extended so far. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into Madame Mulberry’s face. She was smiling. “Finish.” She said simply. Susanne let go again, a grin creeping on her face. After nearly 2 minutes, Susanne’s stream abated, and after bearing down on her bladder to make sure there was nothing left, she unhooked the catheter from herself. Now that her mind was drowning in her hot, boiling desperation, worry and concernedness overtook Susanne’s mind. Why had Madame Mulberry decided to help her? Why not just let her piss herself and be made a fool out of? Why not just force her to pee elsewhere and make an example of her, like she did with Gloria? As she thought these things, she bent down to pick up her panties, but Madame Mulberry stopped her. “Oh, I won’t have you in that filthy thing…Here.” Madame Mulberry closed her robe and strode past the girl, opening up a drawer behind her desk and pulling out a fresh pair of panties. She handed them to the girl. Susanne vaguely wondered why Madame Mulberry kept underwear in her study, but she did not complain as she slid them on. Dry panties felt nice on her wet labia. She turned and curtsied slightly. “Thank you, Madame Mulberry.” She murmured demurely. The woman smiled. “You’re most certainly welcome, my dear. Couldn’t have you ruining the carpeting, could we? Now, my generosity, while great, is not free, as you can imagine. In exchange for your relief, there is just one teensie little thing I need you to do for me, darling…” She drew her robe around the girl and closed the door.

    To be continued…
     
  15. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from DerivativeWings in The Chronicles of Mulberry Mansion   
    Here we are, over a year later. I'm a horrible person, I know, and no one is probably going to read this, but, c'est la vie. I enjoy the story, so I will continue to update. :) Feel free to follow along, friends. 

    Chapter 6    

     

    In all her 24 years of life, Cassandra had never been this full of pee and on the verge of losing it all; she doubted that even her state during her arrival at this manor compared to the acute, near overwhelming pressure she felt in her abdomen right now. She couldn’t even fathom how Trish and the others managed to bear such copious amounts of liquid day in and day out without being twisted up like pretzels. Trish looked quite uncomfortable herself from Cassandra’s vantage point, but she was walking at a pretty good clip and didn’t look as if she were seconds from gushing all over the carpet, unlike the woman following her. Cassandra groaned as she hobbled along after her guide towards relief. Her bulbous abdomen protruded obscenely from her pale toned stomach, pressing against the taut fabric of the embarrassingly risqué maid uniform Madame Mulberry had forced her to wear with every step. As Trish pulled her along through the right wing of the mansion, Cassandra greatly prolonged their journey by having to stop and press her legs together or give herself a quick squeeze between her thighs; anything to get control of her soon-to-be overflowing bladder.  Trish looked back at Cassandra every time she stopped, her expression a strange blend of pity and impatience.

    “C’mon, newbie, hurry it up! This is a time sensitive endeavor, you know!”

    Cassandra took a deep breath and staggered forward, trying to keep pace with Trish. “L-look, I’m trying, alright!?” She replied in exasperation. “It’s not easy to walk and hold everything in at the same time, you know!”

    They both made a right around a corner and traveled down a hallway lined with stained glass reliefs of various women. Even in her agonized state, Cassandra recognized the faces of these important female figures throughout history, identifiable by the brass nameplates beneath the window panes; Catherine the Great, Queen Victoria, Joan of Arc…Even more recent figures such as Susan B. Anthony and Emily Dickenson peered down at the two women as they hurried through the corridor. Despite her abject desperation, Cassandra couldn’t help but notice that something seemed…off about the figures in the windows. Their bodies were positioned strangely, and they were crafted in such a way that their faces looked as if they were grimacing, almost contorted in pain. She had no time to stay and study them, however; Trish’s arm was nearly yanking hers out of the socket trying to pull her towards their salvation. As they reached the end of the hall, Cassandra was met with two doors; one on her left, and one on her right. Right ahead of her was a final stained glass window, this one of Cleopatra. Same strange posture, same strained expression. Tearing her eyes away from the disturbing glasswork, Cassandra turned back to Trish.

    “W-which door?” She managed, scissoring her thighs together. Now that she was standing still, she didn’t have the force of forward movement to take some of gravity’s pressure off of her bladder, and now she felt as if she had a lead weight in her abdomen, its unforgiving mass bearing down mercilessly on her tiring sphincter.

    “Left.” Trish replied hurriedly, placing a hand on the brass doorknob and turning it. Cassandra could’ve sworn she saw the woman cast a fearful glance at the door to their right as she opened the door, but as it stood she had much bigger problems to attend to.
    Trish pulled Cassandra in, fumbling with her panties and the cinched waist of her skirt while Cassandra took in this new environment. The chamber pot room itself was rather unremarkable; a spacious, circular room with five large iron cauldrons arranged in a circle near the center. The only light came from the small window on the other side of the room, the beams of sunlight illuminating the specks of dust dancing in the air. Trish finally got the waistband of her skirt loosened and her panties down. She lifted up her skirt to just beneath her breasts, and Cassandra marveled slightly at how the bronzed woman’s toned abdomen protruded a good four inches from the rest of her torso.  It had to be just as big as Cassandra’s and yet, although obviously desperate, Trish didn’t appear to be in the near-accident state Cassandra found herself in.

    Trish hobbled over to the pots, peering inside each of them and mumbling to herself. “Mm…Might overflow this one…someone had bad aim on this one…Ah!” She picked the chamber pot directly across from Cassandra and began to haul herself up onto the lip. She spread her legs shamelessly wide, revealing her dark, curly bush and the faint pinkness of her labia. Cassandra blushed at her immodesty, prompting a chuckle from Trish. “Oh, come on kid, it ain’t like you don’t have one. Shoot, couple months in this place and this will be the LEAST embarrassing thing you witness.”

    Nevertheless, Cassandra averted her gaze as Trish’s stream started. It sounded like a mere trickle at first, but it gradually grew louder until it was a full-fledged gush that roped noisily into the pot below, prompting a groan of relief from it’s originator. “Ooh, fuck…” Trish sighed as she allowed her bladder to empty the contents it had acquired. “It may be a bitch to be everyone’s personal porta-potty…” She breathed. “…But damn does it feel good to finally let it go. Almost better than sex, I’d wager…And I’ve had some good sex.” Cassandra’s blush darkened at Trish’s lewd commentary, prompting another hearty guffaw from the bronzed woman.  Listening to Trish relieve herself only made Cassandra’s own situation that much more dire, and her fidgeting became even more pronounced as her bladder responded to the aural stimulus of the sound of peeing. She bobbed her knees and crossed her ankles, twisted her legs and wiggled her hips, everything short of jamming a hand into her crotch.  She was bursting; every second she stood here was a second closer to soaking the ground beneath her, and based on what she’d heard from her fellow chamber pot ladies, peeing anywhere other than a chamber pot was something you did NOT want to do.

    Finally, Trish’s stream slowed until it became a trickle once more, before dying off completely. With a sigh of contentment, Trish hopped down off the pot, grinning at Cassandra. “Alright, Cass, your turn.” She winked at the woman as she passed her by. “Should I cover my eyes so I don’t see your no-no place?” She teased, prompting a glare from Cassandra as she pulled down her own panties and made her way to the chamber pot. These pots were bigger than the one she’d found in that room on the night she’d arrived, and she had to hoist herself up on the lip as Trish had done. In order to avoid dunking her feet in the liquid below, she was forced to straddle the rim, revealing her own neatly trimmed blonde bush.

    “Keeping things neat and tidy, newbie, I like it.”  Trish commented from her position in front of Cassandra’s pot. Cassandra’s face darkened so much it was nearly purple, but she concentrated only on releasing the churning, boiling lake she contained inside her.  As soon as she’d gotten herself situated, she took a deep breath and relaxed her sphincter muscles.

    For a moment, nothing happened. Cassandra could feel an almost unbearable pressure on her urethra, but nothing was coming out; almost as if so much liquid was trying to escape that it had actually stopped up its only exit. One second went by, and then two. Trish cocked her head, concern evident on her face. “You alright, newbie? Looked like you were about to bust a lug out there, where’re the waterworks?”

    No sooner had she spoken than Cassandra’s golden torrent burst forth. It was not a gradual release like Trish’s had been, controlled and precise. It was a great, gushing  flow that reached all the way up to the other side of the pot before spilling loudly into the pot below. Trish laughed. “Oh, there they are.” The amber liquid splattered into the pot with almost deafening ferocity, the sound of the liquid reverberating around the small chamber. So full was her bladder that peeing felt like she was emptying a bottomless reservoir for the first few seconds. After a short while, the woman gasped as the sudden wave of relief washed over her, her shoulders sagging as her stream continued unabated.

    After nearly 3 minutes, her golden output began to taper off, finally receding after a period of non-stop full-force.  Trish whistled as Cassandra began working to push out the last few drops. “Damn, newbie, you weren’t kidding when you said you hadta go. Madame Mulberry must really love that tank you’ve got in there…”

    As Cassandra clambered shakily off the toilet, she fumbled with her panties. Her fingers, numb with relief as they were, were unable to grasp the waistband. Trish started towards the door as Cassandra got her underwear on, attempting to smooth down the ridiculously short skirt. Trish only laughed. “C’mon, Cassie, lets get back to the room. We want Janet to know how you did on your first day; I reckon your bladder may even be bigger than hers.” Cassandra looked up, still shocked as to how natural this all seemed to be to the Latina woman. All these maids and chamber pots and catheters were like some sort of twisted carnival house to Cassandra, so much so she almost didn’t believe it was real. But her desperation had been real, and that near-orgasmic relief she’d felt had been real.  Swallowing hard, she followed Trish out of the room and back towards the chamber ladies’ quarters.

    ~~~~~

    Susanne didn’t scare easily. She was an intellectual child prodigy growing up, a veritable savant when it came to formulas and calculations, and she’d long since deduced that fear was nothing but a biochemical reaction as part of the body’s inherent desire to survive. However, all rational thoughts escaped her as she sat in Madame Mulberry’s office, waiting in a large, almost deceptively soft chair that felt as though it would swallow her up. Madame Mulberry herself appeared quite calm, moving about the office and pushing books back into place. She looked no more uncomfortable for having taken Susanne’s waters, and for a brief moment, Susanne wondered just how much Madame Mulberry could hold. She’d never been seen desperate like many of the maids in the mansion, where there was always a wiggling bum here or a slight curtsy there; perhaps she was gifted with a large bladder, perhaps even stronger than the chamber ladies! Just the thought of Madame Mulberry’s mystical powers of water retention had Susanne’s lithe form flushing red with a rise in temperature. Since coming to the mansion, she’d developed a…hobby, she supposed it was. She liked to try and figure out how much any of her compatriots were holding at any given time: given the parameters of their relief schedule and the jugloads of water and wine they usually consumed throughout the day, it was usually quite a bit. She’d take into account their walking gait, standing posture, facial features, everything. It was a nice way to pass the time, and recently, it had become something more. She began to sneak glances at her fellow maids as they relieved themselves: not for science, but…pleasure. There was something oddly titillating about watching one of the maids’ visibly bloated bladders deflate as they were finally able to rid themselves of their ponderous burden. Their moans of relief…Susanne could listen to them all day.

    Once the Madame Mulberry deemed her space in order, she turned and took a seat at her desk across from Susanne, smoothing down the hem of her robes and shaking the young maid out of her risqué reverie. The girl swallowed hard, despite Madame Mulberry’s relaxed demeanor, not quite sure if she should initiate the conversation. Madame Mulberry could feel Susanne’s discomfort, and she opted to let the silence continue for a few moments more, smiling gently to herself.  Just as Susanne felt nearly light-headed with anxiety, Madame Mulberry cleared her throat.

    “So, Susanne, dear… Do you feel better?”

    The question was so innocent, so genuine, that Susanne was caught off guard. It wasn’t like Madame Mulberry to be so…amicable. Then again, she had just spared Susanne the humiliation of wetting her panties and whatever repercussions may have followed, so it was only right that some gratitude may be in order.

    “Y-yes, Madame Mulberry, I do, thank you.”

    Madame Mulberry nodded. “I’m glad I could help, dear. You’re quite special to me, you know. I want you to be happy here.”

    Susanne looked up, a brief look of confusion crossing her face. “Madame?”

    Madame Mulberry leaned forward, steepling her fingers and peering at Susanne. “Quid pro quo, Susanne. Do you know what that means?”

    “It’s Latin. A phrase meaning ‘something for something’. An exchange.” Susanne replied automatically, her bookish nature taking over for a moment.

    Madame Mulberry smiled and nodded. “That’s correct. I have provided you a service. I saved you the shame of soaking your clothes, and the obligation to face the consequences of such a lack of control. I was happy to do it, of course. All I ask is that you do something for me in return.” She murmured, a grin spreading across her face.

    Susanne forced herself to look into Madame Mulberry’s eyes, shivering under their cold stare. “O-of course, Madame…What is it you would like me to do?”

    Madame Mulberry prolonged the pretense by removing her glasses and brushing an errant strand of raven hair from her eyes. “As you can imagine, this operation…everything that happens in this mansion…It can be…difficult to maintain. We have some very odd precepts, some that more close-minded individuals may deem “perverse”. But you’re not a close-minded individual, are you Susanne?”

    The statement was prim enough, but Susanne could hear the threat underneath it plain as day, as if daring her to say otherwise. She fervently shook her head. “N-no, Madame, certainly not.”

    Madame Mulberry’s smile persisted. “Of course not, dear. Now, I have been watching you for some time, and I can’t help but notice how you always seem to opt for the chamber ladies rather than a chamber pot. Even this morning, you chose to wait in line rather than get immediate relief.”

    Susanne felt her blood turning to ice, not sure where this conversation was headed.

    Madame Mulberry leaned forward a slight bit more. “All I ask is that you continue doing what you have been doing; keeping a close eye on your fellow maids’ relief habits.” She said simply. “Make sure everyone is keeping their noses clean, if you will. You have a particular proclivity for observation, Susanne…You might be more adept at, ah… “catching someone with their pants down” than I am, especially considering I’m much too busy during the day to monitor everything you all are doing. I want you to be my eyes and ears with them…Especially with young Gloria. We both know how she has a bit of a rebellious streak that can be counterproductive to an efficient work environment here.”

    Susanne was quiet. Madame Mulberry wanted her to…spy on the other maids? She already felt squeamish, seeing as she already was sort of held in suspicion by the other girls for being one of Madame Mulberry’s stooges. Come to think of it, Gloria was one of the few who even deigned to talk to her on occasion. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she could outright refuse, was it? Madame Mulberry had a funny way of making even her requests sound like orders. And so, Susanne nodded meekly, agreeing to fulfill the woman’s desire. Madame Mulberry beamed. “Excellent. I knew I could depend on you, Susanne. Like I said, you’re one of my favorites. And you’ll learn, it can be…beneficial, being one of my favorites.” She said mysteriously, her grin not changing in the slightest.

    Susanne only nodded once more, anxious to leave this uncomfortable situation and get back to her comrades, and she had a feeling that Madame Mulberry could sense this. The woman leaned back, still smiling. “That is all, Susanne. You may go.” The raven-haired maid nodded gently and tried not to stand too quickly and appear rude. As she approached the door, Madame Mulberry called her name.

    “Susanne, dear…Is there, anything you’d like to tell me now? Any…insubordinate activity?” She asked.

    Susanne turned to the woman, and was surprised to see that despite the pleasant smile, Madame Mulberry’s gaze had become even more piercing. Susanne’s mind flashed back to the impromptu “plant-watering” that had taken place in the greenhouses today, and how she’d considered following suit.

    “No, Madame…Nothing comes to mind.” She said carefully, forcing herself to continue to hold Madame Mulberry’s gaze. The two sat staring at each other for a couple more seconds before Madame Mulberry broke the stare, putting her glasses back on. “Well, just keep your eyes peeled, dear.” She said in a soft tone, smiling up at Susanne, who nodded and hurried out of the office and back towards the dining hall.
     
  16. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from zein in (Request) "Peeing Into Bladder" Stories   
    So, as you all have probably guessed by now, I've long since discovered what may be the most titillating subset of this already niche fetish, which is women having their bladders used as toilets via catheter XD 

    I don't know why I find the idea of someone desperate having to pee into a poor woman's bladder as a manner of relief so arousing, but here we are lol

    I've read some amazing stories built around this concept;

    "Emily Gets A Date" by @holditin
    https://www.omorashi.org/topic/45015-emily-gets-a-date/?tab=comments#comment-1483796 

    "Customers Come First" (Might be my favorite) by @Markj9494
    https://www.omorashi.org/topic/60894-the-customers-come-first/?tab=comments#comment-1799039

    "A Golden Decree" (commission I asked for, based on an RP I did) by @Markj9494
    https://www.omorashi.org/topic/61660-a-golden-decree/?tab=comments#comment-1809651

    "Full To The Brim" by @holditin
    https://www.deviantart.com/thatcoolguy11/art/Full-To-The-Brim-Part-1-428781260
    https://www.deviantart.com/thatcoolguy11/art/Full-To-The-Brim-Part-2-428806465
    https://www.deviantart.com/thatcoolguy11/art/Full-To-The-Brim-Part-3-428806918


    Basically, I know this is a fairly esoteric concept but I was wondering if anyone had any further stories built around this concept? I'd love to read them XD

    Cheers!
     
  17. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from capeebarah in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    Hard agree on fear wetting. 

    Also, videos where a woman will act like she's bursting and then when she pees she takes 7 full seconds to start is annoying lmao

    Also...wetting without desperation is like frosting without cake lol, the most important aspect is missing 😪
     
  18. Upvote
    Foxlover reacted to soo-pis-sed in Playing "Never have I ever" here (next game TBA)   
    I just came up with an idea, it's a bit raw but you can help me polish it.
    Basically the idea is to play "never have I ever" here. Someone says something they've never done, and those who did it drink a glass (200 ml) of liquid. The first person who pees while playing, loses. Might be fun if enough people participate.
  19. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from Zuorsara in Your favorite omorashi tropes   
    Tropes? Hmm...

    I love when a girl is desperate, and she's being admonished by her boss/teacher/superior who is secretly also desperate but not showing it as much lol

    I love *any* woman in uniform being outwardly tense and rigid and inwardly bursting 🤤

    Big fan of bladder bulges, obviously...

    I love seeing videos where two or more women are desperate and interacting with one another, complaining about how desperate they are...that feedback loop of frantic energy is *chef's kiss*

     
  20. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from Grenn34 in Your favorite omorashi tropes   
    Tropes? Hmm...

    I love when a girl is desperate, and she's being admonished by her boss/teacher/superior who is secretly also desperate but not showing it as much lol

    I love *any* woman in uniform being outwardly tense and rigid and inwardly bursting 🤤

    Big fan of bladder bulges, obviously...

    I love seeing videos where two or more women are desperate and interacting with one another, complaining about how desperate they are...that feedback loop of frantic energy is *chef's kiss*

     
  21. love
    Foxlover got a reaction from HissGenerator in The Art of Gothes   
    Well since you asked XD
     
    Bethany Morgan tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her Chrysler Pacifica, staring impatiently up at the red light she was idling at. 
    Cars flanked her on all sides, all caught up in the horrendous traffic of the suburban weekday rush-hour, all contributing to a mass hindrance of their fellow home goers as they hurried off to their nighttime destinations. 
    Bethany's eyes wandered eastward to a large billboard of a woman, smiling confidently with her hands on her hips, an apron turned cheekily about on her neck to function as a cape. The words Moms are the real Superheroes were emblazoned above her head in cartoony letters, making Bethany snort.
    She certainly didn't feel superhuman, not today. She felt very human, and very tired. Her lustrous red hair, which her husband once called sinfully silky, was done up in a quick functional braid that kept it out of her face as she flitted from one room to the next, preparing herself for the perfect storm that was the school weeknight in the Morgan household. It had been a non-stop day of phone calls, shopping and housework; a daunting task by itself, but the real gauntlet was the Evening Activity Run...soccer practice, dance rehearsal, then laundry when she got home. She'd been running on fumes all day, sustaining herself on coffee and Dr. Pepper, a fact that had come back to haunt her as she felt the dull ache of the day-ripened bladder nestled in her yoga pants, exacerbated by this annoyingly long light. 
    "MOOOOM!" 
    Bethany winced as the shrill sound cut through her reverie. She looked in the rearview mirror at her daughter and eldest child Emily, decked out in a pink tutu and leotard pouting at her. "Connor won't stop poking me!"
    The boy next to her stuck out his tongue, clad in a green soccer uniform. 
    "Am not!"
    "Are too!" 
    As the two set to arguing, Bethany groaned to herself, casting a glance at the baby in the carseat between them. Thank God Noah sleeps better than they do... she thought to herself as she plucked up the Dr. Pepper next to her. She took a deep swig, despite the abundance of liquid she was already containing... It was a risky gamble, but she needed the caffeine. 
    Finally, the light turned green, and she gratefully inched forward...it wasn't much in this rush hour, but at least they were moving. The traffic proceeded at an agonizingly slow pace, much to everyone's chagrin, but especially Bethany's, whose bladder had taken the errant passing thought she gave it and turned it into a continually pressing need at the back of her mind. Another 15 minutes, and the pressure only increased. She found herself shifting in her seat and continuing to tap her fingers on the steering wheel, her lips pursed thinly as she tried to search for any way to distract herself from the steadily growing urge between her legs. 
    Oh, the radio, that'll help...She thought to herself, turning it on.

    “-and we can expect some torrential rainfall tonight! I mean, it’s like the the floodgates of heaven themselves are opening, huh Tabitha?

    “That’s right Lola! Grab your raincoats, folks, this is gonna be a deluge of-”

    Bethany quickly shut it off, gritting her teeth as she squeezed her thighs together. Okay, no radio. Something else.

    But there was nothing esle…nothing but the idle honking of impatient drivers who thought their incessant honking would speed anything up, the glare of the late afternoon sun, and Bethany’s ever-increasingly-full bladder.

    After several more arduous minutes, the congestion cleared up enough so that Bethany was able to change lanes and exit off the highway, now speeding at a merry clip towards the school. With the traffic gone the trip was fairly painless, and before long she was pulling into the middle school parking lot.

    “Have fun, you guys…” Bethany murmured absentmindedly as her children exited the vehicle, inhaling sharply as she bounced gently in her seat. Just then, Emily came around to the driver’s seat. "Mom? I still need money for the field trip..."
    Bethany cursed inwardly...she'd completely forgotten about the $5.75 she needed to give Connor for the trip to the whereever-they-were-going. In her state, she really didn't want to add a stop to her drive, but the trip was tomorrow, and she didn't have any cash... at least the bank was on the way. “Okay, sweetie, I’ll make sure you-”
    “-And I need big paper for my art project!” Connor chimed in from behind his sister.

    Bethany’s forced herself to smile as another errand was added to her decidedly limited timeframe. “...Okay. I’ll pick them up. You guys go on now, you’re already late…love you, see you tonight…”

    “Love you, Mom!” Both kids exclaimed in unison as they turned and took off running towards the school.

    Bethany watched them go, grunting as she pressed a hand against her lap. She briefly considered parking and popping inside to pee… 
     
    In a middle school? Ew. She shuddered in disgust. Besides, she couldn’t leave Noah out in the car all by himself… She would just have to grin and bear it till she got home

    Giving herself one more squeeze for good luck, she peeled out of the parking lot. “Okay, bank first, then Michael’s, then I can go home and pee…Ohhhh I gotta pee…” She thought to herself as she pulled back out onto the main road.

    By the time she pulled into the Bank drive through, she couldn’t stop moving. As soon as her car was in neutral, she threw a leg over the other, grinding gently in her seat as she pulled out her bank card.

    Withdrawing the money took maybe 2 minutes at most, but to Bethany, it might as well have been an eternity. “Come onnn come on come on…” She muttered as the ATM slowly spat out the bills. She all but yanked them from its clutches, not even bothering to sign out before she rolled the window up and headed up the road to the shopping strip.

    As soon as she pulled into the parking lot, though, she knew she was in trouble. A pang of desperation hit her like a truck, and she sucked a bit of air between her teeth as one of her hands slipped from the wheel to press between her legs.

    There was no way she was gonna be able to go in there and shop, not with her bladder close to bursting like this… but wait! She could kill two birds with one stone; she could go in, pee, grab the paper and be done with this whole experience.

    She swerved into a parking spot and opened the door, tying her baby harness before stepping out and grabbing her baby, heading straight for the store.

    As soon as she got inside, she made a beeline for the toilets, only to find…

    “...No…” She whimpered to herself as the “Closed For Cleaning” sign stared back at her, cold and indifferent to the desperate woman’s plight. She stamped a foot in frustration as she buried a hand between her legs again, the thought of being denied relief causing her bladder to shudder angrily.

    “D-Dammit all…” She hissed, taking a deep breath. “Well…might as well get the stupid cardboard paper…”

    Five tense minutes later, Bethany was in line at the checkout, one hand holding her baby and the other holding the paper booklet as she gently bobbed up and down as much as she thought she could without drawing attention. When it was her turn at the register, she quickly slammed the paper down, digging round in her purse for one of the 10 dollar bills she’d gotten from the bank. “Here…” She huffed, shoving the money at the confused-looking teen behind the counter. “Keep the change…”

    She grabbed her paper and hurried out of the store as fast as her bladder would allow. She raced up to her car, placed her baby in the carseat and threw the paper into the back next to him before climbing into her car.

    She took a moment to scissor her legs up and down, sucking in air through her teeth and blowing it back out. Time for the trip home. 

    Luckily the traffic wasn’t as bad the opposite way, but the detour still wasn’t doing Bethany’s bladder any favors. She really was beginning to regret that swig of Dr. Pepper; she could almost feel it funneling into her swollen bladder, inundating it with even more liquid despite the Herculean service it was already performing, containing that foolish drink all the liquid she’d consumed since breakfast.

    “Oooh, gotta pee gotta pee…Come on, Beth, home stretch, you can do this, you can make it…” She repeated to herself in a frenzied mantra as she sped along the highway.

    As she pulled into her driveway, her bladder kicked into overdrive, like it had connected to the Wi-Fi. Bethany hurriedly unlocked her seatbelt and scrambled out of the car. As soon as her foot touched the ground, the woman almost doubled over as gravity pulled her bladder straight down. She crossed her legs tight, taking short breaths as she gently bobbed up and down, trying to wrestle the urge down. After a tense moment, she got it somewhat under control. Grabbing Noah and securing him in the harness, she half-walked, half-hobbled up to the door. She didn’t even bother grabbing the paper…she could always come back for it, right now there were incredibly more pressing matters to address.

    She fumbled with her keys, one leg wound tightly over the other as she bounced and whimpered; her bladder felt like a roiling ball of molten lead in her abdomen, searing its way down against her quivering pelvic floor muscles.

    She shakily jammed the key in the lock, all but forcing the door open. She had seconds before the floodgates opened, and she knew it.

    As she hurried inside, Bethany gasped as she felt a trickle of warm urine force its way past her tightly clenched sphincter. Her hand flew to her crotch again as she staggered towards the toilet…she couldn't fail now, not when she’d come so far… She threw open the bathroom door as another trickle joined the first, and then another, all soaking down the inner thighs of her yoga pants. She danced in front of the toilet frantically, trying to pull down her pants with her free hand, but it was too late. She’d barely gotten her tights past her ass when the dam burst, sending a full day’s worth of held-back urine cascading down her thighs, soaking them instantly as it began to splatter onto the floor. Bethany merely stared at the toilet as she pissed herself for the first time since she was in grade school, the shock of having endured all that agony just to wind up peeing in front of the toilet almost numbing her to the coming feeling of relief.

    But come it did, her shoulders sagging and eyes fluttering as she surrendered to it, her knees knocking together as she gave up and let her pee simply stream through her fingers, pooling on the ground and running in rivulets out all over the bathroom floor. Sweet fuck I needed that…she moaned in her mind as she continued to empty her bladder through her pants and panties.

    After nearly a minute and a quarter she begun running dry, her gush slowing to a stream, then a trickle, then into naught but drips echoing as they dropped into the enormous puddle beneath them.

    She looked down at the baby slumbering against her chest, unaware that his mother had just pissed all down her legs.

    “Well, Noah…” She murmured. “At least I’d already planned to do laundry…”

    THE END

     
  22. Upvote
    Foxlover got a reaction from SJC Omorashi in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    Hard agree on fear wetting. 

    Also, videos where a woman will act like she's bursting and then when she pees she takes 7 full seconds to start is annoying lmao

    Also...wetting without desperation is like frosting without cake lol, the most important aspect is missing 😪
     
  23. love
    Foxlover reacted to omoEnthusiast1 in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    Desperation is better than the actual wetting. I’d much rather see or read about someone panicking to get to a toilet rather than a. getting there b. wetting themselves outside the toilet or c. wetting themselves at the toilet.
     
    I don’t see or notice many others who are into omo like this. And for those that are into wetting, what makes it better than desperation for you and why?
  24. Upvote
    Foxlover reacted to Spectator9 in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    I'm more of a desperation fan rather than wetting, and one of the things that I "disapprove" of is peeing on carpets, upholstery or beds, especially if it's in a place that serves the public (like hotel rooms).  Peeing anyplace that is difficult to clean is, to my mind, vandalism.  There are lots of better places like tile floors, washable plastic or in the outdoors where the next rain will wash it away.  
  25. hehe
    Foxlover got a reaction from omoEnthusiast1 in Share your pee/omorashi unpopular opinion   
    Hard agree on fear wetting. 

    Also, videos where a woman will act like she's bursting and then when she pees she takes 7 full seconds to start is annoying lmao

    Also...wetting without desperation is like frosting without cake lol, the most important aspect is missing 😪
     
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