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Attica

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50 Puddle Pal

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About Attica

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  1. I have learned, from this website of course, that Omorashi loosely translates to the 'desire or enjoyment of being desperate to urinate, or urinating in your clothes'. And I believe I understand that Omutsu is the same thing, but in diapers. What I'm curious about is, is there a specific word for the 'desire or enjoyment of being desperate to defecate, or soiling your clothes'? If there is a word for that, is there a dedicated site / forum like this one for people who are into messing specifically like that? I tend to post a lot of my messing related creative work here, but I know that there are plenty of people here who are not into that, so I wonder if I am doing the community a disservice by posting stories that involve soiled panties.
  2. I find myself dreaming up some really, REALLY raunchy erotic fantasies involving toilet play, and so I decided to start writing them here. I'm not sure if these are 'stories' per se, but I think this is a good place to put them- and I encourage others to post their fantasies in this thread as well, regardless of their skill at writing. I'm going to use a lot of varying elements across different fantasies, as well as changing possibly the style or tense of writing. Who *I* am in these stories may also change- I might choose to write myself as a woman in one story, and a man in a different one- although I do typically prefer female wetting and messing. Some of these fantasies might get a little extreme, and I may not always stick to realism- after all, it is a FANTASY, so it can be whatever I want it to be. This first story will be written in a present tense, with I (as a female) and You (As a male) being large parts of it. ~~~ I am your dominatrix. There are few things that I enjoy more than punishing you, watching you squirm, whimper, and cry when you lose bladder control in front of me and piss yourself. My favorite thing to do to you, is have holding contests. I train my bladder, body, and mind frequently, and you have yet to last longer than me. When you lose, sitting humiliated in a puddle of your own urine, I laugh, take off my pants, and urinate on you, every time. Because of my training, I tend to hold myself off as long as I possibly can- in both my bladder, and my bowels. We do not have a session planned today, so I am unprepared for you when I head to the toilet. Despite being your Dominatrix with an iron bladder, you are larger than me- and so when you grab me just before I got to the door, you restrain me in a pair of handcuffs before I can realize what is happening. You push me down, onto my knees, and use a second pair of handcuffs to cuff me to the radiator- I can't move, and I can't even stand up fully. I protest furiously, rage and threaten you with future punishments, but you do not care. I can feel my desperate need growing much stronger- because I was training my bladder, I am practically at the brink. You unzip your jeans, and pull out your cock, already fully erect. Before I can say another word, you force your cock into my mouth, gagging me. You start to fuck my mouth, and there is nothing I can do about it, except to suck. You tell me that if I can make you come, you might let me go. But my panties are already damp. I peed in them a little when you surprised me- now, as I suck your cock the best that I can, a few more spurts dampen the groin of my tight blue jeans. There is slight foam around my mouth from the roughness that you are forcing your cock down my throat with- I cannot speak or protest, I can only whimper and cry, a few tears running down my cheeks. However, the pleasure I am feeling is immense- I'm burning between the legs, I wish I could rub myself. I can't stop squirming, rubbing my thighs together desperately. The heat grows warmer, and radiates across my lap. I realize that I have lost bladder control. I am fully pissing my pants. Hot glistening wet streaks run all over the front of my thighs, down to my knees. I feel beyond humiliated- I am fully crying now, and my mascara is streaking down my cheeks. "You dirty little slut, are you wetting yourself?" You ask me. I nod my head slightly. I admit it, it is the only thought in my mind- 'I am wetting myself, I am peeing my pants like a little pathetic girl. I'm losing control.' I feel a slight weight tugging on the waistband of my panties. I did not notice it at first, I was too shocked that I was having an accident. The weight grows heavier, and my bottom feels warm. With a shudder, I decide to just push- I cannot stop myself. I piss harder, full force- my jeans are totally soaked now, still glistening as I pee, a puddle growing between my knees- and the seat of my jeans is tenting out, bulging bigger and bigger. 'I'm soiling myself,' I think to myself. I'm trembling furiously with humiliation, but also pleasure. I cannot believe how good this feels. I cannot believe how turned on I am. I let go of any pretense of control, and completely shit my pants. The feeling of relief is immeasurable, to be emptying myself like this. 'I used... my pants... as my toilet,' I say to myself in my head again, obsessed with the act of it. 'I wet and shit my pants.' I have an orgasm, and so do you- I swallow your come willingly. You undo your belt, and uncuff me from the radiator, my hands still cuffed behind my back. You lead me to a chair, and put me across your lap- and start to whip my bottom with your belt. I'm crying, wailing at the pain like a little girl, so you take your ball gag from the drawer- the one I always used on you- and silence me with it. The ball gag does not come out for the entire rest of the day. When you let me up, you decide to punish me further. You take a padlock, tighten my belt, and lock it shut, keeping the key to yourself. I cannot take off these ruined pants. You tell me I will be wearing them for the rest of the day- another six hours, with panties bulging and sagging with my mess. You tell me these pants are now my toilet. Throughout the evening, you only ever take out my ball gag to make me drink, and allow me to eat once. You are making me drink so much, I wet my pants every thirty minutes. You force me to stand up when I do it, so that I fully soak my jeans, all the way down to the cuff, all the way down into my socks. You rub my groin whenever I wet myself, and I climax three times that day. Each time I wet, it becomes easier. Eventually, I no longer struggle, no longer attempt to hold it in- I simply stand up and release my bladder into my panties willingly. An hour before the end of the day, when I can finally clean up, I am squirming on the spot, and looking at you desperately. You tell me to just go to the bathroom on myself, like I've done all day. I turn around, cheeks red, and you see the bulge in the seat of my pants growing larger. I'm soiling myself again. You give me a spanking for it, mocking and degrading me for messing my pants twice in one day. Eventually, you allow me to clean up, wash myself in the shower, and throw away my jeans. But you demand I keep the panties. They are so stained and discolored, whenever I see them, I will remember how I filled them, forced to sit in it for hours. When I get out of the shower, you ravish me. We have sex multiple times, for three hours- you use each of my holes however you desire. During our sex, I climax three times yet again. In the middle of it, my bladder fills again- you force me to put on my favorite pair of red corduroy pants, and wet myself in them. When we finally go to bed, you demand I wear a diaper. You tie me up, so totally and completely that I could not even roll out of bed to escape you. By the next morning, the session is over. We are having a normal morning. During our morning, I forget that I am allowed to use the bathroom now, and start to wet myself. I don't even think about it- I only think about the flushing hot feeling spreading down the back of my thighs. You come over to me and kiss my neck. "Are you pissing yourself, you dirty girl?" You ask. I turn around, noticing what I am doing, and after a thought, I stand on the tips of my toes, to kiss you while I pee. "Yes, Master," I tell you with a smile, and start to shit my pants.
  3. Oooohhh, for some reason the website just will not accept my uploads! They're only 97MB and 52MB, but it keeps failing! Oh, goodness, I must have pissed myself 20 times by now, I wish that everyone could see~
  4. Tonight, for the very first time in my entire adult life, I uncontrollably wet myself. I have tried many times to become so desperate that I actually lose control- that I start to pee myself without being able to stop it or control it, but I was never quite able to manage to do it. I would become very, very desperate, but in the end, I would intentionally pee, because the pain and the strain of holding was too much, and I wanted it to stop. But TONIGHT, tonight, I finally managed to do it. I finally managed to strain my bladder so greatly that it simply gave out on me. I have never, ever been more aroused in my entire life. Losing control is a major fetish of mine, mostly because I have never been able to achieve it. So I kind of went a little insane. Driven by lust, I created... well, all of this. Please forgive me if I offend you. This video is the first of a few- apparently they are too large and I need to compress the others >.< Also this video is not from tonight. IMG_0025.MOV IMG_0025.MOV
  5. I have a very large, erotic project, that probably belongs in the video section but I am only brave enough to post it here, coming up soon. It is going to be a big deal. It is going to be such a big deal, that I am going to share this video. IMG_0025.MOV This is me messing my panties. Please enjoy.
  6. I mistakenly believed that I was a big girl, and was pouty and bratty about it. But in the end, I was proven totally wrong, and my mommy, who insisted I needed diapers, was right- because I completely wet myself before getting to the toilet, even though I had nearly completed the challenge I had been given. As part of my punishment, after an extensive thrashing with a coat hanger, mommy insists I write her a 500 word essay on why I was wrong. A Pissy Toddler Girl's Confession I am a dirty, wet little girl, and I have wet my pants just as is to be expected from a toddler like myself. I had a task set before me to complete a certain number of game quests, and I nearly made it, but as I finished, as I stood up to walk to the bathroom, I made it three steps, and started to pee in my pants. My thighs quivered, my legs trembled, and I forced my thighs together, but it was not good enough. I lost bladder control, and gushed piss all over my pants. Pathetic little girl that I am, I would have soiled myself too, if I had needed to go. I am a little toddler girl who believes herself to be a grown woman, and I wet and soil my pants. I need diapers. I was too proud, too pouty and naughty to think that I needed diapers, but I proved my mommy right when I wet my pants. My mommy ordered me to clean up my own mess, while still wearing my sopping panties. After my mess was cleaned, I was properly punished. Mommy had me bend over on my hands and knees, and whipped me twenty five times across the bottom with a wire coat hanger- thirteen on one cheek and twelve on the other- one whipping for each year of my supposed age. Despite being 25 years of age, I have the bladder and bowel control of a two year old. I am a shameful embarrassment to myself and anyone who associates with me, and I would be better suited being dressed in diapers, put in a onesie, and left in a crib with a bottle and a bib. As I sit here and write this, I am still wearing my panties, wet and clammy as they are, and they are clinging to me uncomfortably. If I were to get a rash from this, I would sorely deserve it, for I should be wearing puffy white diapers filled with baby powder. As soon as my punishment and my essay are complete, I am going to order myself a package of adult diapers for grown women. I will order whatever pair mommy orders me to, whether they be discreet, puffy and white, or patterned with princesses and unicorns. I am too incontinent to make this decision for myself. I am very lucky to be cared after like this, and be disciplined in the way that I deserve. I am told that if I am to wet myself or poop my panties again without getting the diapers I so clearly need, my thrashing will be twice as bad, and will continue to get worse for every accident that I have. I urinate on average of eight to ten times a day, because my bladder is very small, and I have little self control. If I were forced to hold it, I am sure even a five year old could go longer without peeing than I could. I am so very pathetic, and the only reason I am not sitting here, writing this in a pair of shit-filled panties is because I already went earlier today. I am very sorry for my bratty transgression, and it will never happen again, for I have learned my lesson with my attitude. However, I likely have not learned how to hold it, and fully expect glistening, hot wet pants clinging to my legs again in the future- maybe even so soon as tomorrow.
  7. Biography of a Toilet Whore Part II Oh, that felt incredible. I orgasmed at least three times. You, you are special- even if you do not hit and abuse me in the way I desire, even if you are not excessively cruel- I so enjoy being fucked by you. It's okay, don't worry. I'm a half breed, so I am infertile- you can't get me pregnant. That's okay- I enjoy the feeling of your semen coating my inner thighs, drying on my groin. It'll wash into my panties if just- ahhh, piss myself, like that. No, it's okay, I'm going to keep wearing these pants awhile- if you can stand the smell. What am I saying? Of course you can. You've told me again and again how you enjoy the smell of my pissed pants. No, you don't have to worry about rashes or anything- I can just dispel those away. See, when I was eventually ejected from my household, I joined up with a convent of priestesses. I don't know why, perhaps I thought- maybe I could be cleansed, cured of my disgusting, corrupted desires. It did not work- it only further enhanced them. It was the beginning of something new for me. Despite my constant wettings, I had never actually wet the bed. That was when I came to the convent. I was very quickly given a reputation as a pantswetter. Priestesses, young ones especially- they can be terribly cruel girls. Perhaps it's all that duty and worship, and not getting any cock in them, but they can be truly terrible. Sometime in my second week there, I awoke with my wrists tied to the bedposts. They said that I should just stay in bed, get more rest. Of course, they were teasing me- they were waiting until I got desperate. I still sometimes remember that day. The thought of it makes me moist. I had been trying my best to seem normal. I squirmed, I writhed- pinching my thighs together, I begged them, "Please, please let me go!" I even cried. I remember the looks of cruelty on their faces as they watched me cry. I- unnhh, master, may I pleasure myself while I tell this story? Thank you. Ohh... what was I saying... I remember the utter desperation, the pain in my abdomen. I cried and I cried, and eventually, I lost muscle control. I can still hear the hiss of my pee, gushing into my nightgown. The warmth of it flooding under my bottom. They were -delighted-, because I cried more pathetically than ever. A daring girl pushed her hand between my legs, so that I would pee all over the top sheet too- the wetness obvious to anyone who looked at me. They pointed, jeered, and laughed- and then, someone got a particularly nasty idea. She climbed on top of my bed, spread her nightgown apart, and started to pee right on me, on the top sheet over my abdomen. Then another girl decided to do it, and another- eventually six girls pissed on me, in total, and I was totally soaking, from my knees to my breasts- in my own urine, and in others. The most delightful thing is, after that, they left me there. I missed the morning bell, missed the morning shower- missed breakfast, left alone, in my piss stinking twin bed, all by myself- unable to even touch myself. My nethers were flaming, the entire time. After the first hour, I wet the bed again- after the second, I shit in my nightgown. The erotic pleasure was overwhelming. I came, even without touching myself- I writhed and I bounced, and the mess in my skirts went all over my bottom and the back of my thighs. Five hours later I was discovered by the matron, and without even being able to clean myself up, I was stripped naked, tied to a pole outside- yes, every girl could see me naked, with my own excrement smeared over my backside- and whipped for twenty minutes straight. I came from that, too. The pleasure of my accidents never really hit me until I was about eleven, and still under the care of my mother. That was when she realized the sort of pleasure she got out of torturing me, and forcing me to mess myself. No, don't worry- demons age differently, you see. A real succubus is a fully grown woman by the age of seven. Me, at the age of eleven, that was probably about age nineteen, to a human. My breasts and my hips were nearly fully developed, and mother found a new way to satisfy her hunger- by fucking me. I can honestly say that my own mother was possibly one of the best sexual partners I ever had. Of course she was- she was a succubus. My own twisted desires for abuse and wetting fueled her, fueled her natural, instinctual sadism. I think at that time, that was the closest I ever had to an actual loving relationship with her. She had sex with me once a day, which is honestly showing restraint, for a succubus. You see, they fuck multiple times a day. Day in and day out, for hours at a time, cock, tongue, and pussy was touching mother's nethers in one way or another. Humans, demons, elves, animals even- one time she actually laid with Lord Ba'al Zəbûb himself. The way that monstrosity could come! I was cleaning it off the walls for three days. The greatest session I had with her? Well... I was quite full to bursting, and she must have sensed it- she chained me up against a wall, with my wrists above my head. She tore off my top, my breasts free and exposed to her- and first, she iced them. Traced ice across my nipples, and threatened to kill me if I peed. Then, the candle wax was next- it burned, it burned so much, after the contrast of the ice. I must admit, I wet myself a little from that- from the pain. Yes, even as a half demon, I have wet my pants in fear before. But what came next was utterly magical. Succubi are very in tune to other people's bodies, you see, no matter what species they are- they can affect whatever they like, however they like. She demanded that I hold it, and then, she made it impossible. She weakened my bowel and bladder muscles. I remember it like it was yesterday- panting, sweating like a pig, my face hot and red, my tits stiffer than steel nails. Trembling from head to toe, pinching and squeezing my thighs, rubbing them up and down against each other, clenching my bottom. I kept having to alternate control, from my urethra to my rectum- I couldn't focus on both. My- 'load', for lack of a better word, was pushing out of me, so I went to focus control on holding it- and I completely wet myself. It was incredible. There is nothing as pleasurable as literally having no control- no choice in the matter, wetting yourself completely, utterly, helplessly. It gushed under my asscheeks, forming dozens of hot, glistening rivulets down the back of my thighs- mother shook her head, her black, thin hair swaying, clucking her tongue as she watched me, her tail flitting back and forth, calling me pathetic. I sobbed and begged just a little, and tried to hold my bladder- that was when the bowels went. I could feel the slight resistance of my mess tenting in my panties- everything sort of came to a stop then. I sweated, shuddered- my succubi mother came close, bit my lower lip, kissed me, pinched my nipple- she whispered in my ear, "You will never have control,"- and then it all went. Any sentiment of control I had left, was gone. I gushed urine into my pants like a waterfall, I forcefully soiled myself, oh, the sounds, master- the squelching, the crackling and popping, the tent in my pants bulged and then mushed down into a mound, and I shit, and shit, and shit my pants, I had no idea I could even hold that much. I moaned, no- screamed, with pleasure, as it happened. I was never messier than I was that day. She let me down, and spanked me viciously- spread and mushed my mess all over. It covered me from hip to hip, down the back of my thighs to my knees, up the small of my back, and she stripped me then, and started to jam her tail into me- my face was forced into my own puddle of urine. That was when he came home. For the first time in an entire year, he came home. My father- he saw it all, he saw what horrible, depraved thing my own demonic mother was doing to me. I lost my family, after that- I was set free with nowhere to go. Why? Well... because he killed her, right on the spot. Thank you!
  8. Biography of a Toilet Whore Part I You want to know about me? I'm not sure I understand. Why would you ever want to know about who I am? I am worthless, good for nothing, a degenerate. Nobody needs to know who I am, and I assure you, nobody cares. I am good for only one thing; pleasing you. Isn't that what you want? I can see the tent in your pants. Please, let me satisfy that. Here, unzip, I will get on my knees, and empty my bladder into my pants, I know how much it pleases you when I wet myself while I suck your cock. You insist? Well, I- if it is what you desire, I will not say no. I can not say no. Whatever you desire, whatever pleases you, down to the smallest detail- I must obey. Why? Well, because it is... it is what I am, what I was created for. To obey. Never to think on my own, never to even consider giving orders to someone else, or disobeying an order I am given. A- ah... you see? I am so pathetic, I am losing control already. See, I've wet myself again- yes, that little splotch right across my lap. Well, if you insist I talk to you, as I said, I must obey, but- but let me touch you, let me stroke you off as I do. I cannot resist, you see, I hunger so, for it. When did I start using my clothes as my toilet? Well, you see, I never- I never started using a regular toilet. Yes, I have never sat down and relieved myself in an outhouse or anything. I have wet and soiled my pants every day, since the day I was born. At first, when I was young, you know- it was of necessity. I simply did not know any better. I was never properly potty trained, like most people are. Whether it was out of negligence or cruelty at first, I cannot say- but I can assure you, later in my life, it became out of cruelty. Not much longer out of that, it became out of pleasure. Nothing pleases me more... nothing. No wine to slake my thirst, no decadent dish to satisfy my hunger- no, I, I cannot be satisfied by anything other than wetting myself and messing my pants. Though, the sex- and of course, the abuse that comes naturally with it- that is part of the hunger, the craving, that I will never satisfy. Why wasn't I potty trained? Well, you see, my mother hated me. Perhaps, I am not sure, if she hated me at first. She may have simply disregarded me, as a thing, an annoyance. I never knew my father. He was powerful, or so I hear. A demon master. Yes, he laid with one of his conquests- a succubus. I am half a demon. No- no, don't worry- I have no interest in consuming your soul, I am still half human, after all. My father, yes, he... he was never really there. I saw him once or twice, when I was very little- perhaps still only two or three. I can remember, back that far. I remember almost everything. Demons, you see, their minds are- are more streamlined than a regular human. Perhaps that has to do with the mutations. I cannot tell you much. As I was half human, my succubus of a mother wanted little to do with me. Out of obligation, she saw that I did not die in my youth. Perhaps she truly loved my father- yes, even a succubus is capable of love. Or perhaps the bond was too deep. She and him, they- forged a soul bond. It takes a powerful, powerful warlock indeed to forge a soul bond with something as nymphomaniac and untrustworthy as a succubus. Of course, she did not even attempt retaining fidelity. I mean, she was a succubus, after all. He was gone for such long times, he only came back every now and again- perhaps to check on me, though every time he saw me, I could see growing disappointment in his eyes. At such a young age, however, I could not possibly understand that look- only that it made me feel worthless. That was the beginning of it all, really. That feeling of worthlessness- as I grew, I came to... worship it. It made me feel in a way I cannot describe to an average human. It made me feel... whole. To be worthless, to be scum, to be abused. My mother, she abused me often, yes. I think she resented me- many a consort was chased away once they saw the half-breed monstrosity that I was. The way that she abused me, it started to grow into a sort of addiction. I fed off it- literally, in the same way that a succubus feeds off lust. You don't know how that works? Oh, of course- I forget, not all people are well versed in various aspects of demons. Well, succubi feed, in the same way that you and I would eat or drink water, by absorbing the emotion of lust within an individual. They *must* have sex- they must please their partners. It is the only way for them to stay alive. Of course, there are some lines a succubi won't cross- though there are few. They are of course, overwhelmingly selfish- so anything that puts them in danger or harms them is out of the question. Yes, that does mean exactly that- there are no submissive succubi. They may SEEM submissive, in order to draw out your lust. A succubus innately knows what your deepest, darkest fetish is, and uses it against you. Even I can weakly sense it, though for you, it's easy- you like to see me piss and shit myself. That works out perfectly for us, after all... I love to have accidents. As I was saying, though. Succubi all love BDSM. However, they will do whatever pleases their partner, other than submit to them. All succubi are sadists, you see- there are no masochistic succubi. Except, perhaps I... but that is because I am a degenerate, a mistake. A half breed. My mother eventually turned me into a sort of slave. I did the work around the house- which was, to be frank, pointless. It was only to entertain mother. We lived in the Nether, see- where forms and reality are constantly changing shape, where nothing is solid and set in stone. There was no need for me to clean the house- we could just transform it into a clean home. But mother didn't- she enjoyed seeing me work. It wasn't until I was about, oh, eleven, that she started to realize the pleasure in forcing me to go to the bathroom on myself. It always made her furious, at first- she would whip me, beat me, scream at me- "Succubi do not excrete waste! Succubi do not eat food! We eat men and women's desires- and you will NEVER be like us! You wretched, pissy brat!" That was her favorite line. She started to force me to wear belts with locks, so even if I wanted to, I could not take off my pants- I had no choice but to wet myself. For some reason, though, I never resented this- I accepted it as a part of life, and as I went through puberty, messing my pants, being whipped, burned, and abused- I came to love it. It really does feed me, just like lust feeds a succubus. Though- I still have to eat, and all that. If I didn't eat, how would I soil myself? My appearance- what? You want me to describe my appearance aloud? Are you- taking this all down? How can you write like that while I'm pumping your cock? I admire your determination. Are you writing a story about me? Well, that's okay. I do not mind the entire world knowing what I am. The humiliation I would endure, the looks I would get walking down the street- mmnnh, I am frothing between the legs just thinking about it. Very well. I am a human girl, though my skin is a colorful shade pinker than most of us. Tiny little bumps under my forehead are covered by my long, shimmering red hair- yes, I take very good care of my hair, and my body. There is an exquisite pleasure in urinating on a woman who is beautiful, isn't there? I know I am worthless, but I also know I am beautiful. All succubi are, even half breeds. My eyes are a soft purple, the color of lilacs- father, see, he had blue eyes, and demons, they always have red. Considering again what I am, genetically, I am pleasing to the eye and the touch. My breasts are full and plump, complete with petite, pink nipples. Oh, I would say I am a four stone cup- enough to fill your hand, and then some. Yes- oh, yes, just like that. I do enjoy it with you grope me. Please, continue. My backside is much the same way. It fills out my pants, which really highlights the way they look when I soil them. Yes, I always dress in red- it matches my hair, the collar bone length hair, which doesn't quite cover my breasts- I keep them trimmed, so that when I am naked, nothing accidentally covers my tits. I love this color of scarlet- it really shows, the wet, glistening patches, when I wet- and the seat of these pants are forever stained, no matter how much I wash them. Anyway, I- oh. Ohh, I- oh, forgive me. It feels like I am wetting myself again. No, I- unnhh, I do not ever get tired of it, even though I do it every day. I can do it, mmhhh, I can do it in various ways, that- oh, it's so hot- oh, that keep it interesting. Like- oh, light, I am really drenching myself this time- can you hear that? That ppsssshhhh, I love that sound. I am completely, helplessly pissing myself. It feels exquisite... sitting in this wooden chair, I can feel the hot wetness pool around my bottom, hear it drip and splatter all over the floor. Ah, ahhh, I- master, I am- unnnhh, p-peeing... myself. It seems like its over. I think that your cock is going to burst if I don't do something about it. I'm sorry, I know you weren't nearly done, but I- I simply had to wet myself, I can't hold my bladder, after all. Oh, yes please- I would love that. I have had many partners, of course, you know that- but none of them bend me over their laps and spank me just right, like you do. I could cum just from you spanking me. Oh, not yet, you say? Oh, of course- I'll get down on my knees. Please, I beg of you- urinate on my chest, on my mouth. I want it. I need it... I am nothing, but a filthy... wretched... toilet whore.
  9. I'm quite sorry to necromantically resurrect a clearly very dead thread. I haven't written or posted anything here in, oh, it feels like a whole two years, maybe more. Things have been very- well, my personal life is none of anybody's business. But the long and short of it is that I have felt no impulse to do any writing, especially of this sort- what creative juices I had were being spent roleplaying in various games, on discord, and other websites. But just for tonight, I have been thinking about something all day... and I think I must write it here. I am going to get to work on it right away. Now, for anyone who is new to this thread, I hope you perhaps enjoy reading some of my older submissions- please forgive any kind of syntax or logic errors, as I typically do not proof read these, and often write them drunk. I should have the new work done well before the end of tonight. It will unfortunately not be a continuation of either of my stories in here thus far- though, I should really wrap up The Subjugation of Arcadia Banes, that one has a real thriller of an ending. But tonight, I'm going to write the first chapter of a series I hope to have the creative juices to continue, titled, Biography of a Toilet Whore. Please be warned that I will be including some graphic content in this story, and some of you may find it displeasing, upsetting of the humours, as you will. There will also be soiling/scat. Anyway- Here I go.
  10. With the current work schedule I have, I always have a break in the middle of the day, and so I go home for a few hours. As it turns out, this has somehow turned into the time I get desperate to go every day. I keep a towel in the car, so one day, I was so desperate, I put it under me, lifted myself up, and just soiled myself- sat back down, and let my bladder go. The seat didn't get very wet because I was wearing two pairs of pants (It's cold here), and I had to spend ten minutes with every little bump mushing it against my butt. It was incredible. So incredible actually that I did it again today- I'm still wearing my messy pants as I type this~ I somehow find having an accident in the car even more taboo, despite the fact that many people who aren't even into omorashi have accidents in a vehicle due to the lack of places to stop. Anyone else have thoughts on this?
  11. I know this thread is ancient, but I'm necro-ing it because I really want to know if anyone has a source of that jeans peeing picture I posted. Also, I caught this while scrolling memes and was wondering if anyone knew where it was from or if it's just a one-off snap. I saw someone posted a rip of that original jeans wetting shot, but for me the link is broken.
  12. https://ww1.soul-anime.us/watch/ikkitousen-episode-2/ 20:10 Enjoy
  13. A long time ago I wanted to do a little 5 panel or so comic with you, which I would pair with a fiction of what's going on in it! I still want to do that, I've been too lazy to get around to it, but I want to make a more generic request if you've ever got time for it considering your timetable. I'm going to challenge you a bit. Since I am making a free request I certainly do not expect perfection! And since it's a lot I'll give you a little $$ at least. I would like to request a violet colored twi'lek girl, considerably (but not ridiculously / unnaturally) bustier and wider-hipped than the girls you normally draw, wearing and -ruining- a pair of pale blue jeans, with no top on. Her wrists bound together, hanging from the ceiling, BDSM style, her mouth gagged, clearly loving it. (Little floaty hearts and stuff is just great). Steam clouds would be beautiful, and I also want her soiling, -really- soiling herself, like, a bulging mess that sags partially down the back of her thighs, easily 5 or 6 times larger than what I've been seeing you draw. I do realize that is a very tall order and I will wait as long as you need. I hope that you don't feel pressured by the challenge.
  14. This is why I quite enjoy BDSM with my desperation and wetting. Surely it can't be staged if you're literally tied up and being tortured while you're so desperate to go~ Or perhaps just plain terrified? Poor thing...
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