SummerDress

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  1. Very happy to see this, I was hoping to write more after my Arya story, but it's great to see someone beat me to it. Great job so far, look forward to much more.
  2. SummerDress

    Game of Thrones: The Hero of Winterfell

    There's surprisingly little Game of Thrones Omo fiction, which is impressive considering how popular that show is. So I'm happy to contribute to it and I challenge anyone who's up to it to write their own fics about the show/books 🙂
  3. The following contains Spoilers for Game of Thrones Season 8 Episode 3. Do not read unless you have seen that episode, or just don’t care. Also contains messing, you have been warned. This is my first fic in a long while on this site, but I thought this episode presented the perfect opportunity for some omorashi. Do let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy. The Hero of Winterfell The stench of death hung in the air. The screams and clashing of swords could be heard throughout the entire castle and the sky was bathed in the red glow of the fire trench. The dead were in Winterfell and the living were loosing. Only one thing could stop them, and that was to cut off their head. To kill the Night King. To close his blue eyes, and that was exactly what Arya Stark was planning on doing. The Red Woman had renewed her with drive. She would look the God of Death in the face and tell him "Not today". She knew he would be heading towards Bran in the Gods Wood, so that was where she was heading. Scrambling over rooftops. Diving though windows, and killing any dead she came across. Nothing would stop her, nothing could get in her way. Only one problem presented itself, she was in desperate need of a privy. The violence and chaos of the battle did not exactly provide a quiet moment for one to relieve oneself, and she could feel the need growing in the bladder ever since the trench was lit. She had managed to hold on thus far however. Most people would've long voided all over themselves in fear amidst any normal battle, let alone one against the forces of death. But Arya Stark was not some common soldier, she was a trained assassin, a Faceless Man, and she could control herself better than that and she had done this far. She wasn't exactly dry however, much to her shame. She had been knocked around, struck, and scared on so many occasions tonight that several leaks had escaped her. Even fighting her way though the castle she was aware of the dampness rubbing against her private parts. A reminder of her misjudgement. Usually before she did anything crucial, before any assassination, or any fight, she would stay sat over a chamber pot for a long while until she was sure that every drop was out of her, but she had not got the chance to do so before this battle, as she was somewhat preoccupied with Gendry. When the horns sounded for them to assemble she barely had time to get her clothes on before rushing to the battlements. Thoughts of having a piss had been far from her mind and she was paying for it now. She did her best to push the sensation far from her mind. She had a job to do, and hopefully if she completed it soon enough, she would be able to have her piss in peace. The battle was turning even worse, dead were falling from the sky, being shook off one of the Dragons above. She didn't have much time left, but thankfully she had almost reached the Godswood. She knew the Night King would be heading for Bran. Her brother had testified clearly that he would want to kill The Three Eyed Raven personally. Arya seen this as her best chance to take him out, while he was distracted. Killing any Wights that crossed her path she managed to push her way into the Godswood. Her brother sat there beneath the Hearth Tree, while Theon and the last of the Ironborn did their best to defend him. Staying far back and peaking out from behind a tree she observed that even when a Wight broke past the defences, it would go for one of the archers, and Bran was left alone, even when he was wide open and vulnerable. It was clear that the Wights were saving him for their master, just as Arya counted on. Sneaking though the trees she tried to get as close as possible without being detected. She noticed that the Wights were slowing their attacks, and pretty soon stopped, holding position in a circle around the Weirwood. The air suddenly grew even colder, and Arya looked towards the entrance, to see her target had arrived, flanked by about a dozen Wight Walkers. Gasping for breath Arya hug back behind the tree where she was hiding, and did her best to remain as still as possible. She could only hope that the Night King would make himself vulnerable when going for Bran. However, her bladder was now pressing it's urges with a vengeance. Whether it was the increased cold, or the fact that she had stopped moving, she suddenly needed to piss much greater than before. She could hardly hold still. She had to fight the urge to dance on the spot like she used to as a child. She did her best to compose herself by rubbing her thighs together and pressing her hand into her crotch. Yet pressing the wet material against her now quivering womanhood did nothing to help, and only made her need worse. She peeked behind out from behind the tree to see the Night King and the Walkers taking their sweet time in approaching the tree, meanwhile Bran was bidding farewell to Theon, who was the last defender standing. "Come on, come on, come on" Arya muttered to herself as she pressed her back against the tree and her hand against her core. She desperately needed a piss, and it didn't look like it would wait until after the Night King was dead. Furthermore she couldn't just skin her breeches down and squat where she was a much as she wanted to. If a Wight saw her she would have no chance to defend herself, and she might even miss her one chance with the Night King. There was only one thing to do, and she was only now willing to admit it. She scrunched her face and looked up in embarrassment. "Fuck it" she whispered, wet pants were a small price to pay for saving the living. She took one last peek out from behind the tree to track the enemies progress, then ducked back behind. Committing herself to the inevitable she widened her stance and removed her hand between her legs, and let nature take her course. Almost without urging she immediately let go. A bright warm heat suddenly bloomed in her most sensitive region. Her lower lips were soon engulfed in her waters and she had to stop herself from moaning in relief. She had a veritable river inside her and nothing was stopping it now. Her lips drenched the liquid soon travelled to her behind, where it began to fill the crack between her cheeks. She wore no small clothes, and the flood couldn't be contained around her core forever, and soon began to stream down her legs, soaking them as it flowed. Her boots soon began to fill and she was engulfed in warmth from the waist down. It was almost pleasant, especially in the biting cold. As she pissed herself she kept aware, and listened to Theon's valiant but fruitless death. She looked out behind the tree to see the Night King finally advancing towards Bran. Her moment was soon, yet she couldn't stop pissing. She looked down at herself to see she snow at her feet turning yellow, while her streams were thankfully muffled. Gritting her teeth she managed to stem the flow. Still not empty, but now enough to focus. Her chance was coming soon, and she couldn't miss it. Emerging out from behind her tree she squatted down low and crouch walked forward to get as close as possible. Her soaking britches distracted her greatly, and she couldn't sneak as well as she wished, but thankfully all blue eyes were on the Night King and Bran. He had stopped in front of his brother and was reaching for his weapon. Her chance was now and she couldn't miss it. Ignoring her drenched clothes she suddenly stood up and bolted forward, too fast for the White Walkers to relax. Sprinting towards the God or Death she took out her dagger that Bran had given her, and held it over her head. Getting close she spotted a rock, and stepping on it she expertly launched herself up into the air, like an athlete. She was flying full force and ready to plunge the Valyrian Steel deep into the Night King's back. He was too quick for her however. Faster than she could've imagined he spun around and caught her, gripping her by the wrist and the throat. She gasped in shock. His fingers were like ice, and piercing cold began to travel though her body and the piss on her legs began to instantly freeze. Staring into the eyes of the god of death terror gripped her body, and any piss left within her began to flow out at an alarming rate. It was worse than that however, as she felt her stomach began to turn and her anus loosen. The terror was so acute that she lost all control of her body and began to shameless soil herself. A hot mess began to fill the space between her cheeks, as her terror stricken bowels lost all control. However, even now, in the mist of messing herself, she did not forget her training. Acting almost on instinct, she skilfully dropped the dagger from the hand that the Night King was grasping, and expertly caught it with her free hand, plunging it into his stomach. The affect was instant, as the monster who had instilled such fear exploded into a shower of ice. Falling from his now non existent grip she hit the ground hard. All the enemies around them feel to the ground lifeless, their control cut while the other White Walkers went the way of the Night King and also exploded. Arya was gasping on the ground, deep in shock, still feeling the icy fingers around her neck she could barely move. Nor could she regain control over herself, and her bowels continued to empty. She had once mocked Hot Pie, saying that if he got within a mile of a battle he'd fill his pants. Well that's exactly what was happening now, she was filling her pants, and it seemed that she was not going to stop until she was empty. A strange silence now descended on the castle where moments before it had been chaos. She could hear herself panting for breath and the soft trickle of the last of her piss flowing down her leg. "You did it" said Bran, characteristically monotone, "You saved the world". "Yeah" was all she could respond. Arya Stark, the saviour of the world had just pissed herself intentionally, and shit herself accidentally. She could hardly feel proud in that moment. She looked down at herself. It was dark, and her tunic covered most of her legs so her shame wasn't visible. On top of that, she was covered in gore and blood, while the air was thick with the stench of death, so her smell would not be at all noticeable. She could not escape the feeling though. She was soaked in near freezing piss from the waist down, and a large bulge was present in her behind. Her pants were heavy and awkward and she felt disgusted. Without another word to Bran she turned and walked off in a daze. She could not wait for a bath, but knew one would not come soon in the state of the aftermath. Still she wished to disappear from sight, not wanting anyone to see her in her current state. As she exited the Godswood she passed a filthy looking Jon, and ducked behind a tree to avoid his sight as she ran towards where Bran was. Emerging into the ruins of the castle courtyard she could see she was not the only person in a daze, the survivors were stumbling around not believing that it was all over, and she could easily pass by unnoticed. It was all she could do not to waddle from the mess she had made. She didn't know where she was going to go, but knew it had to be away from the world. She was not to go unnoticed as she wished however, as she was crossing the main courtyard she head a a voice call out her name. She turned slowly and was engulfed in a hug by her sister. Sansa had tears in her eyes and was smiling happily down at Arya, hugging her close, not caring about the fact that she was getting covered in blood by being close to her. "Oh I'm so glad you're okay, I'm so glad" she repeated, stroking her little sisters hair. "What happened?" Arya was uncomfortable being held so close after having made such a mess on herself, but looking up at her sister showing such emotion her usual composure was broken. "Oh Sansa" she said looking up as tears came to her eyes. Sansa just hugged her tighter, pressing her against her robes and furs. "It's okay Arya, what happened, you can tell me" she said, coming out of the hug and kneeling down in front of her sister. Arya hadn't felt like this since she was a toddler, so vulnerable with her confidence shattered. "Well I killed the Night King...." She started. "You did?" Sansa replied shocked. Arya nodded, "but, I eh, I, had an accident" he quietly admitted. Sansa looked confused for a second but then understanding washed over her. "Oh Arya" she said in a motherly tone, "Come here" she said, wilfully hugging her again even after discovering that. Arya happily accepted, and nuzzled into her sister's shoulder, her wet legs and heavy pants almost forgotten about. "Come on", Sansa said, standing up, "Let's see what we can do for the hero of Winterfell". Arya smiled weakly as she allowed herself to be led off by her sister. Jon again appeared before them, clearly looking for Arya, but Sansa gave him a look which he knew meant to leave her alone. The sun was just begging to rise and more and more survivors were emerging from the battleground. Arya did her best to ignore them and keep her head down as Sansa led her into the keep. They stepped over bodies and corpses as they progressed towards what Arya soon realised were her chambers. While the hall outside was littered with the dead, her door had remained closed and the inside was mercifully untouched. Sansa closed the door behind them and Arya began to sway, feeling lightheaded. Sansa did not fail to notice and quickly grabbed Arya and led her to a chair. Realising that she was about to be sat down Arya went to protest but it was too late. As her buttocks hit the chair she winced as her mess was squished beneath her and squeezed in between her arse cheeks. Sansa did not notice however, and if she did she just took it as a sign of pain. She took a goblet from the table and filled it with from a pitcher of wine which had been left there. "Drink" she said, pressing it into Arya's hands. She didn't protest and soon downed it, followed by the second and third cup her sister refilled and also pressed on her. Arya was only too glad to let herself get drunk, if only to forget the fact that she was sitting in her own mess. "Did you really kill the Night King?" Sansa asked as she kneeled in front of her, and was drinking from her own cup. Arya nodded, "Yep, stabbed him right in the gut" she confirmed taking another swig. "Then you shouldn't be ashamed Arya, you're a hero" Sansa said proudly. "Who cares if you pissed yourself, I'm sure every warrior did today". "Well you see" Arya said, turning red, either from the wine or embarrassment, "I didn't just piss myself..." Understanding washed over Sansa's face and she covered her mouth in her hands. "Oh by the Gods Arya, I'm so sorry I made you sit down" Arya laughed weakly, "That's what you're worried about?" She asked, "don't worry the damage is done" she said, squirming uncomfortably in her mess. Sansa seemed more embarrassed than Arya now. "Well if it's any consolation, you know I pissed myself too" she meekly admitted. "Really", Arya said, her interest peeked, "Right in your noble robes and fancy dress" she joked. "Yes, the dead rose in the crypts and I thought I was going to die" she admitted, then raised her outermost dress to prove it, showing the wet underclothes beneath. "I'm sure not a single person escaped tonight without soiling themselves, but only one killed than Night King". Arya smiled, coming back alive a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right." "Besides", Sansa grinned, "You're the bravest person I know, so imagine how badly the Dragon Queen must've messed herself". At that Arya actually laughed, happy to imagine it and forgetting her own misfortune temporarily. "We'll have to get that handmaiden of hers drunk to tell us" Arya laughed. "It's a deal," Sansa replied, glad to have comforted her sister. "But now" she said, getting to her feet and helping Arya from her chair, "I think we both better get cleaned up as best we can." "Me first" insisted Arya. "Of course", Sansa replied proudly, "You are the hero after all."
  4. Truly a fantastic story, very well written and all endings were great. I'd love to see more from Millie and Alex in the future, I'm sure there's plenty more timelines possible. This could be a great start to a canon of your own.
  5. SummerDress

    A Game of Thrones fanfiction

    That was a fantastic story, there's not nearly enough GoT fanfiction here, and I'd love to see you continue this story.
  6. What an amazingly unique story, I loved it and I'd love to read more in this style. Well done!
  7. SummerDress

    What's fun without risk?

    What a great story, I love it!
  8. SummerDress

    Master and Servant

    I do hope that this is continued soon, it's really really good!
  9. SummerDress

    Age Play Fantasies

    This was very good, well done :)
  10. SummerDress

    I made a thing.

    What an amazing story, you should be very proud of yourself. I hope the maid outfit gets future use ;)
  11. SummerDress

    Melina's Curiosity

    What an amazing story, I hope to see it continued in the future.
  12. SummerDress

    A squirt or...

    Guys, I read this article recently that's from a site I trust so you should read it for yourselfs. http://www.iflscience.com/health-and-medicine/women-squirting-during-sex-may-actually-be-peeing
  13. SummerDress

    Tena Diaper with Two Stuffers!

    What an amazing story, I hope you had some good fun afterwards ;)
  14. SummerDress

    Our Last Day In Bali My Wetting at Sunset

    Such an amazing story, you're one lucky girl.
  15. This is my second fiction story that I've written for this website. This time it revolves around Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones/ A song of Ice and Fire. This takes place a few days after her wedding to Khal Drogo. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. She sat upon the steed as it rocked gently back and forth. The city was now barely visible behind her and the buildings by the roadside were slowly becoming plainer,poorer and less frequent. The Summer sun shone down harsh and unforgiving and other than their band there was not a soul to be seen. The Dothraki horde stretched for miles into the distance behind her. As the new Khaleesi she rode at the head with only Khal Drogo and his bloodriders before her. Her brother and Ser Jorah rode a few feet behind her, much to Visery’s anger. Her handmaidens Irri, Jhiqui and Doreah walked beside her. Daenerys was dressed as a typical Dothraki women, she was wearing a roughspun tunic laced up the front and leather riding breeches. Her long silver hair was tied behind her in a braid similar to her new husband’s and it bounced lazily behind her with the movement of her horse. She was barefoot in the stirrups and as usual she wore no small clothes. That was never a problem when she wore silken dresses back in Pentos but the tunic itched her chest horribly and the breeches felt strange against her bare. They had set out at dawn, leaving the city without ceremony while she was still half asleep. Although they had only been riding for a few hours she was already exhausted, she had never ridden for so long before and never in such heat. She had been drinking greedily from the water skin and was now beginning to pay the price for she felt a great need to make water. Drogo was laughing happily up ahead of her and showed no intention to stop anytime soon. She had felt the need for a while now and had done her best to ignore it, but being unable to cross her legs and her constant thirst were taking their toll. She knew she couldn't wait for much longer. She leaned down and quietly whispered to Irri. “Do you think we're gonna stop soon?” The handmaiden looked up at her with confused eyes, for a moment Dany didn't think she understood the common tongue but then she replied “Dothraki don't stop till the Khal say we stop”. “ And when will that be?” She inquired further hoping it'll be soon. “Not before moonrise, maybe later if Khal say so” Jhiqui butted in. Dany’s eyes widened and she sat up straight in the saddle, it wasn't even noon yet. Her need only seemed to get worse with this revelation and she winced slightly. This didn't escape her handmaidens. “Is something the matter Khaleesi?” asked Doreah, who seemed to be fluent in the common tongue. Dany saw no other choice but to tell her. “We have to stop” she whispered bashfully “ I need to make water”. Doreah nodded in understanding and rattled off a few words in Dothraki to translate to the other handmaidens. “Ah, Khaleesi needs a piss” stated Irri far too loudly. “Shhhh” Dany urged and darted her head backwards to see if Viserys heard, but her brother was engrossed in showing off his sword to a bored Ser Jorah and didn't seem to notice. “There's nothing to be embarrassed about” assured Doreah “it’s perfectly normal considering how much you’ve drank” Jhiqui nodded in agreement “We surprised Khaleesi didn't piss sooner”. Dany felt her cheeks flush, they had obviously been expecting this. “So does this mean we can stop?” “Oh no, Horde don't stop for Khaleesi’s bladder” Irri stated. “Then what am I supposed to do?” Dany was getting worried now and her need was only getting worse, she’d start leaking soon she knew. Doreah looked up at her with understanding. “There are over forty thousand Dothraki in the Horde, we all can't stop every time someone needs to urinate” she pointed forward to the Khal and his bloodriders. “Do you see the pouches by their saddles, they aren't full of water” Dany gulped at this realisation but it did nothing to help her. “But I can't go in a pouch, I don't have a….spout” “Yes, things are much more difficult for us women” Doreah agreed “ You’ll just have to go in the saddle I'm afraid”. Dany’s eyes widened once again and she felt a small spurt leave her sex, she couldn't just go in the saddle, she went to protest but couldn't find the words. Doreah tried to reassure her “It’s okay Khaleesi, all Dothraki women wet themselves at some stage” “It is known” chimed Irri and Jhiqui in unison. “Even you?” Dany asked shocked. “Yes, even us” Doreah responded “ We aren't aloud to leave the Khaleesi’s side for any reason so we must go as we walk” Dany was convinced that this had to be some sort of jape “Prove it, then”. Doreah once again spoke to the others in Dothraki and they both giggled but Irri spoke up, “ I’ll go, Khaleesi”. Dany was still sure that this was some sort of cruel joke until she noticed Irri sigh and seem to relax. To Dany’s astonishment she began to urinate while still walking. Her leather breeches grew slightly darker in her crotch and streams of yellow liquid appeared out of her pant cuffs halfway up her calves. It continued to flow down her legs and left wet footprints in the dirt behind her. After about twenty seconds she stopped going, her legs and feet were soaked and her breeches were stuck to her thighs, but she didn't seem to mind at all and looked up at Daenerys with a smile on her face as if expecting praise. “T-thank you, Irri”, Dany stammered out, bewildered. Irri beamed with gratitude and began gloating to Jhiqui in Dothraki. Doreah looked back up at Dany “She, it's perfectly normal, no one even noticed”. It was true, Viserys was continuing his boasting to a now sleeping Ser Jorah and no other Dothraki seemed to have taken notice. Dany finally realised it was her only choice, her bladder was full to bursting and she felt that she leaked a bit more during Irri’s wetting. She checked once again to make sure her brother was oblivious and then leaned forward to rub the main of her horse “I’m sorry about this girl, but I got to go”. She sat back in her saddle, closed her eyes and let go. Her bladder wasted no time in voiding herself and a steady stream began to flow out of her sex. She felt the warm liquid begin to fill the crevice between her lips in a manner that wasn't entirely unpleasant. The find silvery hair between her legs was promptly soaked and became heavy. The flow continued downwards and began to wet her buttocks which was numb from riding. Her liquid soaked her cheeks and rose up the crack between them, wetting her entire behind in the process. When her breeches couldn't hold anymore it began to flow down her legs and leak out into the saddle. The streams tickled as they made their way down her legs before dripping off her feet in tiny drops. She was surprised at how relaxing it felt and a slight moan escaped her lips. Her lower half felt as if it was immersed in one of the hot baths she loved so much. She was surprised to find that she actually enjoyed that. Her wetting was far longer than Irri’s and lasted close to a minute. At the end she was left sitting in a warm puddle and her breeches were soaked. Her horse didn't seem to even notice what she had done and thankfully neither had her brother. Her handmaidens were looking up at her expectantly, Irri was already mostly dry. “Khaleesi feeling better?” Jhiqui asked. Daenerys sighed contently, “Yes much better, thank you”. She was still sore from riding but she was happy to have finally gone, and felt quite relaxed as a result. At least there was something she found she enjoyed about Dothraki culture.