Canticle Natura

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About Canticle Natura

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    Male
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    U.S.A.

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  1. How does Omorashi effect your daily life?

    It actually doesn't really effect it all that much. Though, I do make sure to always use the toilet before I leave so that I don't get desperate while I'm out or working.
  2. Maelstrom of Pee

    With a publisher name like Fuxley, I secretly wish it was a 1984 or Animal Farm smut parody. (Though I'm sure it is pronounced Fooox rather than Fucks.)
  3. It's interesting, sexually I enjoy both despite being a heterosexual male. Why I enjoy female omorashi is obvious, but I also enjoy male omorashi (mostly in written form) as a means of self-inserting as the guy.
  4. What position?

    Huh, I just realized I've only ever done it standing. I think sitting would be fun to do; either that or squatting outside.
  5. furry The Wet Journeys of Mareen, an FFTA2 Fanfiction

    Thank you Bellatrix!
  6. furry The Wet Journeys of Mareen, an FFTA2 Fanfiction

    That's refreshing to hear! I thought I was gumming it up with too much detail and thought that it was getting too long, so I scaled it back a bit.
  7. Disclaimer: This is an omorashi series that involves a non-human female main character and violence that comes from combat. Recently I started playing Final Fantasy Tactics Advance 2 at the same time that I wanted to practice writing fiction. After doing some thinking, I began to insert a character into my clan and began to imagine scenarios that she could get herself into. This naturally led to the current story that will be posted. The following is a link to the wiki that provides information and examples on the races, jobs and Jylland: http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Final_Fantasy_Tactics_A2:_Grimoire_of_the_Rift Since this was a practice piece, I don't think that it is perfect and there may be a few errors despite my proofreading. Because it deals with a semi-long period of time, I tried to write it in the form: broad-detailed-broad, so that the focus is on the action and main omorashi scene. Naturally, any criticism is appreciated. My goal is to use this character and this story to get better at writing and write longer and more detailed omorashi stories. I tried to include vocabulary that would be used in the games or other Final Fantasy games such as magick instead of magic or Hume instead of human. Enjoy! --------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue: The First Hunt It was the tenth day of the month of Rosefire in the Jylland city of Graszton. The sun was shining on a seasonally clear day on the southern port city. A cool breeze floated off of the Ewhol sea and onto the people crowding the streets in the usual morning places. In one area, dockhands were unloading trade goods from the variety of different docked ships. Further in, merchants were peddling their goods at the stalls in the market place, customers were drinking at the many pubs and courtesans were dancing both inside and outside the brothels. Throughout the city, groups of people in seemingly coordinated garments were walking the streets, visiting the pubs and keeping the guards at the main gates busy. These groups were known as clans, or a band of adventurers that work to complete various tasks for the people of Jylland to gain renown and wealth. Clans are usually protected by a judge, a mystical force characterized by a stoic knight in armor. As long as the clans follow the law set in place by the judge in battle, they cannot die in combat. Despite these benefits, some clans choose to not have a judge arbitrate their battles. Freedom of choice was important to the people of Jylland. At a small bookstore in the northern section of the city stood a young Nu Mou named Mareen, who leaned on the counter with elbows and rested her head on the palms of her hands. Like most Nu Mou, she stood at about half the height of an average Hume. Her skin was a light shade of grey tinted with a very light shade of green and was soft from her many years studying and working in the shop rather than doing manual labor. On the side of her head came down two large ears that reached down to her modest sized breasts, resting against her body. In the natural hole that forms in them, there was a single copper clasp in each one. On the back of her head flowed locks of pure white hair that was tied up in a braid going about halfway down her back. She wore a simple off-white linen robe that was one of her favorite choices as the weather got warmer. Her thick tail was covered in the same pure white hair that grew on her head and wore sandals that were made specifically of the foot design of the Nu Mou. Due to her young age of sixty-two, as Nu Mou usually lived three times longer than there Hume counterparts, Mareen still retained a thin body shape, though with the usual plump Nu Mou proportions on her thighs and abdomen. Mareen sat there with her brow furrowed in disappointment. Where was he? Of all the days to be this late. She thought to herself letting out a huff of air from her snout. Today was one of the biggest days of her life; it was to be her first outing with a clan on a hunt. Mareen was a practicing black mage, and took to studying it in her free time. She did not have the money to attend any of the academies in the area, but there were a few tomes in the shop that taught her the basics. The shop was losing money, causing her family to go out of their way to drum up customers to the shop, but it still was not enough. By chance, while walking home from visiting a friend, Mareen saw a posting on a billboard outside a pub of a clan looking for a black mage. Not only was there money involved, but the adventurer lifestyle was something that Mareen always romanticized from stories in her books. Waiting for the part-time shopkeeper was pure torture for the young Nu Mou brimming with excitement. A small bell rang against itself as the front door opened. Returning the shop to focus, Mareen looks at the door to see a male Hume dressed in tan breeches and a leather vest. “You’re late, Christoph.” A distinct annoyance in her voice. The young Hume replied. “Yes, I’m so sorry Ms. Mareen, won’t happen again. I was caught up by the crowds and couldn’t get by them.” He moved to behind the counter with Mareen and puts on his shop-keeping robe. Not wanting to take any more time than necessary, she let out a sigh and decided not to instigate it further. “It’s no problem, look after the shop and treat it like your own.” Christoph smiled radiantly. “Yes Ms. Mareen, you can count on me!” Mareen nodded at the eager part-timer. His duty was to look over the shop while she was away. The note said it was expected to take a little less than a month, so she had to find extra hands to manage the shop. Naturally, her family will be back and forth to check up on everything. With a slight skip in her step, Mareen hurried to the upstairs shared bedroom to grab her belongings. Upon entering the room and closing the door, she took off her robe, folded it and placed it in the knapsack by her bed. Walking around in her tan-colored linen underwear and brassiere, she takes a blue robe and a yellow pointed hat from a hook on the wall by her bed. She raised her arms and the robe slid gracefully down her body. She placed the hat on her head, and picked up a wooden rod that helped her channel magickal energy. Giggling like a youthful Hume, Mareen looked at a nearby mirror and twirled once. Her handmade robe that she spent half a year making fit perfectly. It did not have any frills or pockets like the official robes, but it still had the blue outer layer made of cotton with an off-while inner layer of the more affordable linen. Her hat was made of several pieces of chocobo leather sewn together and dyed yellow. Afterwards, she strapped on her boots that were made of a thicker leather than her sandals. She looked over the bill one last time. It advertised that both a tent and food would be provided by the clan. Looking at the supplies in-front of her, she began to put them into her bag. These items included a bedroll and blanket suited for warmer weather, a small lantern to hang from the tent, ink and parchment to write down her adventure in, several books to review her magick and outdoor skills and more important, a recently cleaned chamber pot. Mareen was not opposed to relieving her bladder outside, as she does it every so often like many Graszton’s citizens, but the thought about leaving her tent at night worried her. It was on the smaller size than ones seen in inns, but it could more than the contents of the Nu Mou’s rather small bladder. Blushing a light pink from embarrassment, she hid it in her bag beneath her extra clothes and other odds and ends. Satisfied with her packing, she strapped the back tight and slung it onto her back. It was a little heavier than she was used to, but that only fired up her determination more. “All right Mareen, you’ve worked hard for this day. Let’s make sure not to disappoint anyone!” She raises a fist in the air and cheers for herself. She takes her gear and marches out of the bedroom, through the shop (nor forgetting to wave goodbye to Christoph, who wished her well) and entered the busy streets of Graszton. Holding the bill in one hand and one of her pack straps with the other, Mareen looked at where the meeting place and time was. It read Meet at The Canary at the second hour from the beginning of the sun’s descent on the 10th day of enflamed flower. “An odd way to put it.” Mareen said to herself. The canary was a working-class pub in the western part of the city, so it was about half an hour from her family’s shop. Looking up at the sky, the sun was well into its ascent. “Oh, I’m late!” Mareen broke into as fast a jog as her short legs would allow her, dodging the crowds of people as best she could. It took about twenty minutes of jogging for her to reach The Canary. Out of breath and already beginning to sweat, this was more physical activity than she was used to on a daily basis. She scanned the crowd out of the pub for anyone that would look like a clan as she tried to catch her breath. As she scanned the crowd, she felt a noticeable pressure in her lower stomach. “Haaahh... it seems... It seems that I... hah... missed something before I set off...” Despite not drinking any more than she usually would, the nervousness and excitement of her first hunt must have made her body process the liquids faster. “I should find the clan first just to let them know that I am here.” Turning to her right, she saw a group five adventurers standing by a small flock of chocobos, the beast of burden in Jylland and Ivalice as a whole. The group consisted of a Hume theif, a viera archer, two Seeq vikings and a Bangaa white monk. Mareen regained her composure and approached the group. As she approached, she noticed that the Viera tapped the shoulder of the Hume and pointed her out. Smiling at the Nu Mou, The Hume raised his hand and flagged down Mareen. “Are you Clan Backdraft?” Mareen asked when she passed through the crowd to the Hume. “In the flesh. You must be a black mage who’s looking for work, yeah?” He smiled, showing a few of his missing teeth that contrasted against his youthful face. “Yes sir, I am Mareen, neophyte black mage, native of Gazton.” She reached out her hand. He responded by firmly grabbing her hand. “Nice to meet ya, Mareen. The name’s Beltran, leader of Clan Backdraft and trained thief. These are my clan mates.” He motioned to the group behind him as they worked. From what Mareen could gather, Delia was the Viera. The Bangaa is their cook and goes by the name Heat and the Seeq were Hodges and Higgins. The chocobo handler was from a separate rental service. “Now, we are about to head out. Is there anything you need before we leave?” Feeling a slightly stronger urge in her bladder, Mareen responded after putting her bag on the chocobo. “I umm…. I need to refill my canteen I think.” She pulled it out of the top of her bag. “Be right back!” Upon entering The Canary she found the door for the women’s restroom and went inside. It was a small room, with a single trough running along a sidewall. On the back wall was a small window at the top that let in light and a small fountain opposite of the trough that constantly poured out water. “Well, it’s better than nothing.” Mareen said as she approached one of the divider walls that separated the “stalls.” Each “stall,” and there were only three total, had a seat affixed to it for the women’s comfort. This older style of public lavatory was becoming more and more uncommon in Graszton, but Mareen could deal with it if she was alone in the room. To her a toilet was a toilet. Growing up working in the city meant there were more than a few times that she would have to duck into a quiet alley to relieve herself. Her one stipulation is that if someone is in close proximity, she would get bladder shy. Fortunately she was alone in the room, as her need was growing more desperate the closer she got to her release. She entered the nearest “stall,” lifted her robe and lowered her underwear, sitting down on the wooden ring with her tail pressed against the wall. Mareen let out a sigh as she eagerly released her bladder; the warm liquid hitting the hard bottom and rolling down to the nearest drain. Feeling relieved, she cleaned herself and checked over everything with the bathroom mirror before returning to Beltran. “Ready?” “Ready.” The party casted off from The Canary and out the western gate. The journey was divided into two main portions, travel by road and travel by forest trail. The trip to the forest took about three days. They started out on the well-maintained highways that allowed them to travel swiftly and sleep in relative luxury. During the day, Mareen tried to strike up conversation about almost anything she could think about, but the only clan member who would respond more than a few times was Beltran, who seemed to enjoy her sunny disposition and cheerful attitude because it contrasted the serious, professional aura of the others. Their nights were spent in relatively cheap common rooms at local inns. Each night, the sleep was easy to find for the tired Nu Mou. By the fourth day the group reached the Zedlei forest, with its generous mix of coniferous and deciduous trees, and it was here that Mareen finally experienced her first day of camping. Despite her fatigue, she managed to set up her tent with the help of the clan leader and eagerly crawled inside it, excited to set up everything. She hung the lantern from the pole in the center, unrolled her bedroll. Once she laid on it, she quickly drifted off to sleep. It became normal on this trip that she did not once write on her parchment nor did she open any of her books. The next morning, one of the Seeq, Higgins, saw her try to empty her chamber pot discreetly behind a bush before washing it. She was mortified when she realized he saw her, and blushed bright red, but the Seeq merely blew air out of his nose and carried on walking in the direction he was going. Hurrying with her duties, Mareen made her preparations to pack up and continue marching. In the early afternoon on the seventh day, the clan reached the area that would serve as the base of operations for this hunt. Tired and dusty from the fourth day of marching on forest trails, Mareen goes about her usual business of setting up her tent. The tent went up faster than the previous days as she got used to it. After she finished pounding stakes into the ground, she put her belongings into the tent and walked over to the rest of the group The group gathered around a fire pit that was placed in the center of the camp. Sticks and logs were piled up in the manner of a cabin, but the fire was not yet lit. On one log sat Beltran and Heat, enjoying pleasant conversation. To their left silently sat Delia and Higgins. Across from them Hodges, quietly waiting for the meeting to start and seemingly disinterested at Mareen sitting next to him. “Alright, it seems like everyone is here.” The Hume said a few minutes after Mareen took her seat. He continued on in a more serious tone that Mareen did not know was possible. “I know we usually do these meetings in the morning, but since we arrived earlier than expected, I wanted to review the details just so we’re all on the same page.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Great, so here’s what we have.” He pulls out a few pieces of parchment from a scroll case on his side, unrolls it and begins to read from it. “What we are looking for is a black chocobo that the local farmers call The Black Wind. It is wanted for hostile activity done to local farmers and for rallying monsters to steal livestock and destroy farms.” Mareen raised her hand. “But it’s just a chocobo, right? Couldn’t the farmers just lure it into a trap?” The Hume looks at Mareen and then speaks to the group. “That’s where we come in. The chocobo is known for its fierceness in battle and the strong allies it recruits. It is also known for fleeing from battle. That’s where you come in Mareen. You will make or break this hunt for us.” Mareen nervously nodded her head. “What part do I have to play in this?” The Hume smiles. “What we need for you to do is wait on the top of this hill.” He points at a large hill sticking out of the forest behind Mareen. “As the creature becomes injured, it will fly to the top of the canopy. Since you will already be waiting there, we need for you to finish it off with your magic.” “But why not have your more seasoned archer up there?” “Quite simply, magic is more accurate. Also, we would be able to move faster on the ground. By that I mean no offense.” Mareen nodded again. The Hume continued to go over the details for a while longer. “That sums it up and it doesn’t look like anybody has any questions.” His less serious demeanor returns will his usual smile. “One more cheer for Clan Backdraft!” Despite their usual silence, the rest of the clan and Mareen joins him in a loud cheer. Everyone then returns to what they were doing. The Viera returned to watch duty, the two Seeq gathered firewood, and the Bangaa continued to set up his cooking supplies. The Hume motioned to Mareen and they went over a few minor details. The evening passed by and the camp falls silent. Mareen hardly slept that night and shot up from her bedroll as she heard the chocobos. She ate her simple breakfast quietly with the rest of the clan. As always, they did not seem like people who were at their best in the morning. About halfway through the morning, when the sun was still rising, the planning phase for the hunt began. Mareen was already briefed last night, so Beltran recommended that she begin setting up her position as soon as she was ready. Grabbing her weapon and canteen from the tent, she let the clan know where she was going and set off towards the hill, smiling and waving back to the group as they made their own preparations. With determination in her eyes, she began to hike the hill as the clan was making final preparation to begin the hunt. The path seemed well traveled as there was clean path that was only overgrowing with light green spring grasses. Despite the relatively cool weather, Mareen made sure to take frequent drinks from her canteen. The trip up the hill was uneventful. After about forty-five minutes, she reached the halfway point, she decided to rest at a nearby spring that the path diverged towards. The water gave off a cool sensation to the air around it and was as pure a blue as Mareen has ever seen. It came out of a rock crevice on the side of the hill and flowed into a small pool below it. She decided to take a short rest by the water to rest her legs for what remained of her climb. Hearing the water, Mareen was reminded of all the water she drank and took a few minutes to relieve herself by a large pine tree. Once she was done, she walked up to the fountain and closely inspected it. “It looks safe enough.” She said to herself. Looking around, she noticed some scrawled writing on a rock above the stream. It was worn away with age, but it was still somewhat legible to the seasoned scholar. “Oh, a message. Let’s see what it says… Drink from this… spring… and… I think that means waters? No matter, it doesn’t seem to be dangerous and there are no other creatures around. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little sip...” She cupped her hands in the cool water and brought some to her mouth. It was sweeter than the water from creek at the camp. “Delicious! I should take some more with me.” She dipped her canteen in the spring and filled it to the brim. Shouldering it again, she took off back on the trail. “Whew.” Mareen sighed as she lifted the front of her hat and wiped a small amount of sweat from her forehead with a small handkerchief. The hilltop was clear of tress, except for on the fringes, and there were rocks and stumps scattered around. The ground was a mix of medium sized grass and patches of dirt. Despite the pleasant weather and the shade of the trees, climbing the rather steep slope of rocks and roots was different than the stone stairs of the city. Resting her gear on a nearby rock, Mareen opened her canteen and took another gulp of the forest’s water. As the cool liquid went down her throat, she heard the faint sounds of combat coming from below her in the forest. “Oh, they must have started. I should have about half of an hour in that case.” Leaning backwards against the rock her equipment is on, she leaned her head down and closed her eyes. She was nervous, yes, but right now she needed to rest her legs above all else. Despite her obligations to the group, and the growing pressure in her bladder, fatigue caught up to Mareen and she quickly drifted into sleep. “KWEH!?” Mareen snaps awake as she hears the distinct cry of a chocobo. Adrenaline shot through her body as she realized her lack of preparedness and in a rush to make up for lost time, grabbed her rod from the rock and headed to the edge of the cliff opposite of her. She moved to prepare her spell so that it is ready to launch when the bird appears from the canopy but is then interrupted by an excruciating pain coming from her lower stomach. Before she could react, a small jet of urine shoots from her urethra, soaking her underwear. In a fit of instinct, she immediately closes her legs and slams her free hand between them to hold herself. “By the Twelve!” she yells, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I have to relieve myself again…?” Her voice slowly turning into moans of both pleasure and pain. Despite the agony of her dangerously full bladder, there was something about the pressure that caused a pleasant sensation of where her hand was. “KWEEEEEHHHH!!!” The shrill sound echoed from the forest and Mareen lets out another leak. My smallclothes… But I have to focus, this is for the shop. She briefly collected herself and scans the tree line, all the while grabbing herself between her legs. “KWEH!” the chocobo cries out again as it emerges from the top of the tress, it’s feathers a beautiful shade of dark purple. There was no mistaking it; this was the mark. This is it! Mareen thought to herself and in a split second turned her head to the beast and uttered a few words while raising her rod. A small fireball manifested itself in-front of her and hurled itself at the chocobo, flying right over its head. “Dammit!” she exclaimed and winced as another spurt of urine leaked through her soaked underwater, absorbing into the section of her blue robe that she pressed against herself. In the brief pause following the missed spell, the chocobo turned to fly away from Mareen’s position on the hill. As it tried to fly away, an arrow shot up from the forest floor and grazed the bird, causing it to hesitate. It’s now or never… Mareen thought to herself as she removed her hand from between her legs and used it to form a sign. Her legs trembling, she used a different incantation that was slightly longer in length. “Blizzara!” she yells as a large spike of ice shot out from her position at the red bird, landing a direct hit on its left wing. “K-KWE-E-EHH!” It screams in pain as it tumbled down into the forest below. Without skipping a beat, Mareen squated down where she was standing, pulled up the front of her robe and urinated on the dirt ground between her feet through her underwear. She smiled to herself and breathed a sigh of relief. Pleasure like nothing else she felt before shot through her body as the pent-up liquid escaped her bladder. At the same moment, she heard the rustle of grass behind her. She turned her and saw two goblin-like creatures, called Baknamy, approaching her from behind. Panic stricken, she barely managed to stop her stream and tried to stand up as one of the Baknamy threw a rock at her. The stone sailed through the air, scoring a direct hit in the space between her shoulders. Yelling out in pain, Mareen lost her balance and falls forward towards the hillside; her hat flying off with the wind into the air. Unable to control herself, her bladder opened again to release the rest of its contents, turning the front of her robe from a light blue to a darker shade of blue. Despite the searing pain between her shoulders, she pushed herself onto her side, facing the Baknamy that are now moving closer. With her urine now escaping down her thigh, she took up her rod and flung a fireball at the Baknamy on the right. The creature grunted in pain and retaliated by throwing the rock it was holding at Mareen. She turned her head before the rock struck her and it landed a direct hit on the side of her head. Her vision was blurred as she was momentarily dazed by the attack. By now her bladder has released all of its contents and Mareen was sitting in a dirt puddle of her own urine, the mid-section of her robed was completely soaked. She came back to her senses and shot another fireball at the same Baknamy. It hit the mark, and the creature tumbled forward, tripping the other one in-front of the Nu Mou. Taking the opportunity as it presented itself, Mareen pulled herself up to her feet, breathing heavily and leaning forward from her robe’s added weight. She raised her rod in-front of her like a sword, shaking from stress as the Baknamy got back on its feet. Growling in anger, it rushed towards Mareen with its hands open to slash at her with its overgrown claws. Mareen closed her eyes and winced as she attempted to block her foe. The Baknamy wrestled the rod away with its left hand and brought its right claws against Mareen’s chest. The sound of cloth ripping echoed around them as the front of her robe was torn open, revealing both the front strap of her small brassiere and her greenish-grey skin underneath. She fell backwards onto her rear from the inertia and in a panic put the rest of her strength in preparing a spell to cast. The Baknamy climbed on top of her and begans to push up Mareen’s robe with one hand, while using the other to overpower her and hold her against the ground. Sounding out a familiar string of words, Mareen pierced the Baknamy through the stomach with a large shard of ice. The creature silently stops moving as it hangs suspended in air on frozen block. Mareen climbed out from underneath and the Baknamy falls face first onto the dirt ground just feet from where Mareen wet herself. Mareen laid on the dirt ground beneath her, breathing deeply and looking at the high, wispy clouds gently floating across the azure blue sky. The sky was as calm as it was when she first arrived at the top nearly an hour ago. A gust of wind came from the gently breeze, shaking the leaves of the nearby trees and the sun came down the same as it always did. Despite this idyllic scene, tears rolled down the side of the exhausted Nu Mou’s head. Her first taste of combat did not only take a physical toll on Mareen, but on her emotional state as well. Why am I sobbing like a child? Mareen thought to herself, I won, right? I should be happy! But why can’t I stop these tears? She brought her sleeves, now covered in dirt and sweat to her eyes and tried to wipe the tears, sobbing loudly with her clear alto voice. This was a turning point in her life, she enjoyed the stress, the tiring days of walking, the thrill of victory; but at the same time the books of her youth did not prepare her for this. She did not know how she felt at this moment. Her body ached, mouth was dry, and she soiled her only robe at a simple mistake; but in the end, she proved to herself that she was not as useless as she thought she was. These thoughts swam through her head as she tried to console herself. About ten minutes later, Mareen’s tears finally stopped. Swallowing deeply and closing her eyes tightly, she collects herself and looks over her injuries. Immediately noticeable was the pain that shot through her body from her back as she tried to sit up. Tears welled from her eyes, but she managed to prop herself against a small, rotting log. Next, she brushed a hand against the left side of her face where the rock hit her. By now the blood dried against her head, but there was a small lump that was painful to the touch. Looking down at her robe, there was some dried blood on the front and her on her left sleeve. Finally, she ran a hand against the ripped section of her robe. She did not feel any cuts in her flesh, but the amount of skin revealed was uncomfortable to the normally prudish Nu Mou. It reminded her of the courtesans that she would sometimes see in the streets of Graszton. Standing up, wincing in pain, she picks up her gear and begins to head down the same trail that she came up, not having an energy to confirm the deaths of the Baknamy, nor to look for her hat. “Well, going down can’t be as bad as going up, right?” Tired and sore, Mareen continues along her way. The way down was almost as uneventful as the trip upwards. Mareen’s condition meant that she was not able to walk fast and had to take frequent breaks to rest. In the end, it took about twice the time to go down as it did to come up. She stops by the same seemingly-magic spring and drank to her hearts content along with, again, taking some along with her. Despite the battle being a short few minutes, her throat was drier than the Kthili Sands deserts. At about two-thirds of the way down the path, a familiar intense urge shot through her lower abdomen. In an instant, her damaged floodgates shot open once again, spilling itself down her legs and onto her halfboots. It took the Nu Mou more than a few seconds to realize this before squatting down. It was no use though as the damage was already done. Soaking herself for the second time today only added to the list of problems she had at this moment. As she continued on her way, she smelled the scent of cooked meat and heard the bawdy songs of the Bangaa and Seeq. Upon reaching the camp, the sun was beginning to set, coating the trees in a pleasant shade of light yellow that alluded to the beginning of the summer months. She saw that everyone was accounted for in the camp. The two Seeq and the Bangaa were still singing while taking swigs of local ale from their mugs, Delia was standing guard with an arrow nocked into her bow (Mareen figured she was aware of her despite showing her normal disinterest in recognizing her), the chocobo attendant was checking on his birds, and the Hume was sharpening his blade and was looking over the large black bird in-front of him. Noticing Mareen, he waved to her and started to approach her. “Hey Mareen, glad ta see ya back! Look, the plan went off without a hitch, Check it out!” He steps aside and motions towards the slain chocobo he was standing by. “That’s... great, I’m glad it worked out....” Mareen replied in a downcast, tired voice. Looking confused at her reply, the Hume finally took the opportunity to look at the roughed-up Nu Mou. “Run into a bit of trouble did ya? Well don’t mind me then. Go on, get you some rest.” He motioned her away in a playful shooing motion and Mareen obliged, bowing her head as she headed to her tent. Mareen sat on the ground in front of her tent and took off her halfboots, leaving them by the door on the outside of the tent. She then went into her tent and, in the cramped quarters, removed her damaged black mage robe and soiled lower underwear. Without replacing the latter, she threw on a light brown linen robe and let other robe air out on a large rock, hanging her underwear from the lantern at the top of the tent. Closing the flap to the outside world, the exhausted Nu Mou laid her weary head on her bedroll and fell asleep into a deep, dreamless sleep. Mareen again woke up to the sound of chocobos kweh-ing with the rise of the morning sun. Her body was still sore, and was more than likely bruised, but she almost felt refreshed after her long rest. Smiling to herself for the first time since the battle, she then noticed something strange: her bladder was empty. Stricken with a slight moment of panic, Mareen checked her bedroll. Hmm, it’s dry. Her eye caught her large chamber pot saw that it was filled to the brim with slightly warm urine. Nodding to her own embarrassment, she quietly took the chamber pot and discreetly emptied it down a slope around the outside of her tent, away from anyone’s view. I must have unknowingly used it overnight. Still though, this amount would have taken two or three voidings… These thoughts mulled throughout her head as she packed her personal items, clothes, bedroll and lantern into a single bag and the tent into another bag with the Viera’s tent, all the while avoiding looking into her cold, stoic gaze. Packing was always the hardest part and Mareen was not used to doing it at the speed of the clanmates. By the time she finished packing and washing herself, the group was ready to begin their journey back to Graszton. The weather on the return trip was not as fair as the trip out. Around the evening of the second day, early summer storms rolled around and loosed a torrent of rain upon the camp. The trek the next morning was through the mud. On the third day they joined up with the Baptiste highroad, where the weather took a turn for the fairer. The closer they came to the more civilized places of Jylland, the more comforts they experienced. It seemed to Mareen that that clan was looser with its funds as they spent more on lodgings, food and drink than they did on their trip out. Most of her time was spent in silence. The Bangaa and Seeq were just as jaunty as ever, ignoring the academic Nu Mou, the Viera was naturally of little words, the Moogle chocobo-handler busy handling the birds with only the Hume to throw a few energetic sentences back to Mareen. One thing that she noticed on the trip back was that her bladder seemed to fill up at a faster than previously. She had to frequently peel off from the group in the Zedlei Forest to relieve herself and almost had a few accidents on the highroad when there were too many people for her to feel comfortable with. All too often did she think about that day, her hike to the top of the hill, bringing down the chocobo and her encounter with the two Baknamy. Even though she was still upset about the state of her robe and her only other pair of underwear, she became more confident and proud of her strength. One day, in the Bisga Greenlands, she looked up at the sun while the group rested for lunch and said to herself in a jokingly manner, “You know, maybe I can do this for a living.” On the seventh day of their travels, Mareen was finally able to smell water in the air. Finally she would return home to her bed and her books, her bath and her family. Her heart was full of happiness and there was more of a kick in her step. A few hours later they were through the gate and in the center of the city where the pub was. As they unpacked their bags from the chocobo, the Hume called over Mareen and, after exchanging a smile and pleasant words, handed her a bag of coins. “And here’s your payment! Take good care of it, you earned it.” She smiled and took the bag, feeling its weight and knew that it legitimate. She bowed her naked head. “And thank you for allowing me to accompany you on this hunt despite my inexperience. I hope that I was not to disappointing to you and your clan.” The Hume puts his right hand behind his head and laughs “Shoot, if it weren’t for you, the dammed bird would probably be halfway to Rabanastre by now!” After sharing one final laugh with the Hume, Mareen picked up her pack and waves farewell to the clan, who all smiled and waved back to her. Turning around, she walked into the crowds of Graszton and headed north to her home. As she walked away from the group, Mareen felt the familiar twinge in her bladder. If the past week was any indication, she would have just barely enough time to make it through the crowd to the shop and relieve herself on the toilet. Fortunately, there was not much traffic in the city and Mareen was able to navigate the familiar streets with ease, only grabbing herself on occasion when she thought nobody would see her. She approached the shop from the front and walked it as she has done many times before. Christoph should be the only one at the shop. Upon entering the door, he greeted the shopkeepers’ fidgeting daughter with a simple bow and spoken greeting. Nodding to Christoph behind the counter, Mareen made a beeline to the back of the shop and opened the door to the bathroom. Seeing that it was empty, she hastily closed the door behind her, lifted her robe and moved her underwear out of the way. Sitting down on the stone bench with an open hole, she released a strong stream of urine in the sewer below her. Smiling in pleasure, she finished with a sigh and cleaned herself up. Taking her belongings to her side of the sleeping room, she took the opportunity to bathe in her familiar bath, deeply cleaning herself in what seems like ages ago. With a satisfied grin on her face, she relaxed into the hot water.
  8. Wetting at the Amusement Park/Carnival

    I don't think I have ever wet myself in the park, but I do remember having to pee in a bottle in my car because I couldn't use the toilets due to paruresis.
  9. Interactive Pee Holding Adventures

    The new Extreme Desperation challenge looks great; very well made. I can't wait to try it his weekend!
  10. female Train was delayed!

    This is a great story, thank you for sharing it! Being desperate in the cold is a very interesting feeling. I remember when I camped in the winter when I was younger, I would always wake up bursting to the point that it was the first thing I had to do or else I would have wet myself.
  11. male desperation Unintended Desperation on a Road Trip

    Thank you very much. I'm glad the both of you enjoyed it! @crazycatgirl3 I will include the picture at the bottom of this post. I try not to reveal myself online, so it is only a picture of the clothes. Don't expect much, it is only a small circle of damage. @Fred46888 Thank you, I'm glad that I was able to keep my image intact. I can relate to your story as my instruments because I wouldn't want to leave my instruments in the cold. I had a bottle from the Gatorade, but it never came across to me to pull over and use it. I will keep that in mind the next time I take a trip!
  12. Disclaimer: If at possible, do not drive with a full bladder. It will distract you and potentially cause a fatal accident. Hey omo.org! I know that male desperation is not popular on this site, but I hope at least someone somewhere will enjoy this story of an experience I had last night. I had a similar experience in almost the same situation a few years ago. I won't link it, but you should be able to easily find it. I apologize if what I type is a little long-winded, I enjoy writing details. Also forgive any typos or grammatical issues as it is a rather large body of prose. Before I type the story, I would like to give a little background. I am a grad student in the United States and I was returning back to my apartment after spending a few days at home. The drive (without giving away too many details about where I live and study) is about 500 miles or 7 hours if I don't get stuck in traffic or get off at a wrong exit (relevant here!). I also suffer from parauresis, and am thus unable to urinate in a public restroom nor outside if someone is in the vicinity of me. It is rather debilitating, but I have adjusted to it by always going to the bathroom before I leave anywhere, no matter how empty my bladder is. I also try to avoid drinking when I'm out so I do not get desperate (I am thinking about trying public desperation.If anybody wants to give me tip or advice, it would be much appreciated.) Whenever I get desperate, it is always in a controlled environment where I can either completely soak with no social repercussions, or I can abandon the hold when I choose to. This story details my experience of an unexpected bout of desperation during the last part of my drive home. I will use a 1-10 scale to define my bladder, as it seems like a commonly accepted means of "measurement." Anyway, on to the story! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Typically when I drive back and forth between my home and apartment in another state, I limit how much fluids I drink so that I do not get the urge to use the bathroom. When I do this, I arrive at my destination with only the slightest pressure on my bladder. If I arrive late, say around 8:30-9:00 pm, I usually just hold it until I got to sleep a few hours later. On this occasion yesterday, I was unable to use the bathroom right before due to packing my car with my family. This normally would not be much of a concern because it was only 30 minutes after I last went, but my last drink was half a quart of Gatorade, which always goes right to my bladder, with a half-filling lunch. I still had a small bit of Gatorade left, so I bring it in the bottle with my water bottle that I bring just in case. With my car packed and the Gatorade sitting in my stomach, I venture forth on the road! I love driving because I always feel so much freedom of being able to go wherever I choose. This trip I stuck to my normal path of few hours on a state highway followed by a few hours on an interstate. For an omorashi enthusiast, this part of the trip was rather boring and I will try to gloss over it as much as possible. For most of the trip, about 400 miles, my bladder stayed a comfortable 2 (A very slight pressure, not enough to care) on my made up scale. This was par the course and I knew that I was not in any trouble of stopping. Fast-forward to about 90 miles from the city where I study, I decided to stop at a gas station to get gas for my car and food for my body. I start eating my burger and fries when I get back on the interstate. Now, I do not know if it was because of the very salty food or the dry air coming from the central heat, but I began to chug the liter of water that I had in my bottle on the seat next to me. In the course of about 20 minutes I finish my meal, my water and my small amount of Gatorade. A few minutes later, my need shot up to a 3 (I would probably use the bathroom if I were about to head out), but I figured it was mostly psychological due to drinking the cold-ish water. The next 70 miles were rather uninteresting, which was reassuring to me as usually when I drink that amount of water that fast, it usually hits my bladder in about half an hour to 45 minutes. Feeling confident, I said to myself: "Perfect, I should be able to make it home with no problems!' I was terribly mistaken. At about 20 miles outside of the city, my need slowly grew to a 4 (A very obvious pressure, I would be worried if I were in public or in class.) With the increased pressure down below, I decided to pull into the right lane and slow down so that it would be safer. I was well aware that this could end badly on my end but I was only about 20-25 minutes from my apartment so I continued to play it off like it was nothing. My need became a 5 (Began to be uncomfortable to sit and I readjusted myself every other minute) when I was about 12 miles from the city. The right lane I was in became an exit only lane and because of my slow speed, I was unable to get out of my lane. This was fine and all, but the issue is that the exit took right to the heart of the city. A heart that included a lot of traffic lights and construction. It was during this 20 minute detour that I grew from "pretty desperate" to "bursting." When I got off of the ramp, I began to start holding myself. This helped a little bit, but because I was in rather thick jeans and was sitting down in my car, most of how I held myself was from moving my pelvis. When I hit the first few lights (It seemed like I almost hit all of them!) I was at a 6 (Getting bad, I would easily have gone if I were at home.) There were more people and cars than I expected, so I had to limit the amount I squirmed and could not hold myself lest someone I knew saw me this desperate. A few more lights, maybe about 5 minutes, I grew to a 7(Was still able to sit still, but squirming made it much more bearable) and thus I began to get worried. This was the most I have ever held in public and the last thing I wanted to do was wet myself in my car and have to clean it up. By the time I get to the end of the city, I was at my breaking point of a 8 (Large pressure in my bladder that was accompanied by "waves" of desperation.) I had to hold myself (as little it helped) and could not stop moving. Each traffic light that I had to stop at was pure torment, not to mention driving over the river and the constant vibration from all of the uneven pavement! The only other thing that I could do was give myself more reassuring words like: "You can make it!" and other not-so-helpful words like "I gotta pee so bad," "My bladder is bursting," and "Oh God, I hope I can make it..." I finally get out of downtown and make my back on my normal route. Despite being a 9 (A huge pressure on my bladder, dangerously close to wetting) I managed to collect myself despite being unable to take my hand off of my pants. It was only 15 minutes left and just a few more stop lights! At each light my squirming grew more and more frantic (Not by much, as my legs are long and my car is rather small) and I would say things like "I'm gonna piss myself" and "I can't hold on much longer!" At the final light I became what I would call a 10 (Wetting is imminent) about 5, or less, minutes from my apartment; where sweet relief awaited me! As I thought about this relief, the muscles around my lower pelvis suddenly became relaxed. "Oh no! Not here!" I thought to myself as I desperately tried to get them back under control. It was futile and the only part of my body holding back the flood was my poor, tired sphincter. I pull into my apartment parking lot, on the verge of wetting, and parked my car with no difficulties. As I get out of my car, desperation hits me like a train and I have to stand there for a few seconds (hopefully nobody saw me) bent over with my hands between my legs. Once I regained control, I took one of my bags from the other seat and headed to the door. The pressure on my bladder forced me to walk slightly bent forward and on my toes. As I get to the door and try to get my key in the lock, I panic as I feel my bladder release its first leak. Knowing that I do not have any time left, I manage to throw open the door, hastily put my bag on the ground and make a beeline to the bathroom. My bladder makes another, slightly longer leak but by that point I was safely able to direct it, along with the rest of its contents, to the toilet with a large sigh of relief. And because my muscle were so tired from the hold, I think I pee'd about three times in about an hour and a half before I went to bed. I took a picture of the (slight) damage, but I won't post it unless people really want to see because, like I said before, I know male desperation is not the most popular here. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So anyway, that was how my night was last night. There are most likely some grammatical and spelling issues that I will continue to fix as this post is up. Let me know what you think, if you enjoyed it or not, or if you have had a similar experience. I kind of got away from the omo scene due to a break-up and school, but I am looking to getting back here and getting to know everyone!
  13. Caffeine and holding?

    I usually do not drink caffeinated drinks, so when I choose to indulge in. say tea, I usually get a really nice intense burst of desperation. This is usually why I don't drink it before classes.
  14. Live Action Omorashi

    Currently drinking vodka and water, let's see how long I can hold.
  15. Concert desperation?

    As a musician myself, I can definitely say that it is not fun to play an instrument while desperate! Especially when it is in front of people. While I do keep myself hydrated, I almost always use the bathroom before I step out on the stage. Now granted my experience may be different because I am a classical performer rather than a pop/rock performer.