Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

Rain_Attica

Soggy Member
  • Posts

    116
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Rain_Attica

  1. Bumping this, since it pairs with the other Story that I wrote, which I just bumped by replying to
  2. Thank you! I apologize for taking so long to get back to you, I am not super active on the site. I have sudden bursts of inspiration, every once in a long, long while. Check out this if you want to read some of my earlier work! I have people who have been waiting ages for the sequels to these stories, but I don't know if I'll ever get to them. You see, I have severe ADHD. I am very good at starting stories, not so good at finishing them. Chimera is part of my 'Magnum Opus' if you will, a fantasy that I've been kicking around for more than a decade. So, I am hoping to complete more chapters of these stories in particular, since they're of great importance to me!
  3. This is another story, set in the same universe as another story I posted in here called "I Wet Myself for Mistress Columbia". The plot is, a horny degenerate psychopath decides to get cute, loses her diaper virginity, has a huge accident, and gets Mommied. There is a lot of sexually explicit stuff in this one, as well as lots of vulgar language. There are multiple instances of wetting and masturbation, and one instance of diaper wetting and messing. You've been warned! Here is the narrator, and the main character of this one- Seliyne. It's not TOTALLY accurate, but this is a commission of a game character that I based her on. Mist is also in this one, as well. She's kind of the main character of the whole universe, I guess. The Diapering of the Shrew I'm gonna tell you guys an embarrassing story. Normally, I wouldn't tell a damn soul about something like this. It's, you know, really embarrassing. But, after that experience... I've come to realize that it feels kind of good, to fess up about something like this. It's hot, you know. I've got a reputation to protect and all that, but honestly, who the hell are *you* gonna tell? You'd out yourself as being a nasty little pervert that gets into shit like this, anyhow. I bet you got your dick in your hand right now, reading this paragraph, thinking you're gonna beat off to some filthy, degenerate shit, huh? Well, you're right. It's gonna be a pretty nasty story. I'm gonna tell you the story of the time I got caught by my boss. Not caught masturbating, I mean. That sort of shit happens all the time. Nah, I'm not embarrassed about that. I don't even stop, half the time. It's their fault for walking in on me. I have a door, they have a fist, and hopefully now they've got an inkling to fucking knock next time. Though, one time, one of my coworkers... roommates, allies- whatever. Anyway, one time she just came in and screwed me. I was totally blown away- She always struck me as a real ice cold bitch, all business, no play, fuckin' cobwebs in her vagina. I didn't find any cobwebs when I checked in there with my tongue, though. Yeah, I'm basically horny as fuck. Indulgent, shameless, violent- you know the type. I'm the Vice-Lieutenant of the Enforcement branch of Chimera, you may have heard of it- we basically conquered a third of the galaxy. Killing's good business. It's a good job, you know. I get to indulge in all kinds of violent desires. You never work a day in your life if you love your job, right? Money's decent, too. Oh, my name- Seliyne, that's pronounced "Sell-een", like that one singer. People call me Seli, usually. I'm barely over five feet tall, I got a chest like a pre-teen boy. I'm the wiry, quick type- agile and ruthless. I pride myself on that. I'm also red all over. Cliff notes version here; I'm a Luciferian. Reddish skin, sharp little brow ridges- We basically look like demons. That's because, technically, we are demons. Long, long time ago, back when your planet was still in it's dark ages, we were a fairly sizable Empire, and we were at war with Seraphs. Serpahs look pretty, have wings, can manipulate the mind to produce illusions, and are totally fucking full of themselves. A few squabbles over your primitive little planet, they tricked dumb humans into worshipping them, working for them. It set the foundation for your early era religions. Demons, angels, that stuff. Truth is, we were just aliens the whole time. I wasn't in that war, though. That was like, millennia ago. I'm only 23. I just know what I read in the history books. Humans run the show now, and you see maybe one, two Luciferians for every like, hundred thousand humans or some shit. I'm also technically a Psion. This is a real big secret, so keep quiet about it. The Psionic order *really* doesn't like non-human Psions, so I never joined the order, never got any training with my powers. I just had to teach myself. I developed my own style of killing with my powers. It works pretty well for me, but I can't really hold a candle to someone who's gotten actual training, like my boss. I'm what they call a "Dusk Psion", I can manipulate gravity. It's harder than it seems. I can't do shit like, make singularities, or pull meteors out of space like some of the top dogs can- but I can make myself lighter and heavier at will. It's real handy for acrobatics. They say that Dusk Psions are naturally depraved. Something about the glands in the brain that let us use our powers having an affect on our psychology, I guess. This might explain my nature, but I think I'd probably be like this no matter what. I like to drink, fight, fuck. I do some real freaky sex shit. Guys, girls- whatever. I even fucked an android once. I can't seem to get enough of it, so I masturbate a lot, too. I've tried almost every fetish you can think of, but my favorite is toilet stuff. You know, piss and all that. That's what I was doing, when we start this story. I've got my usual set up going on- towels under my desk chair, plastic on the chair itself, a half-dozen porn channels up on my view screen. I've been holding it awhile, and I know I'm gonna pop. The pangs of pain from my lower abdomen, the sweat on my brow. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck starting to rise. "Hnnn... Nnnn... Hnnn..." I'm moaning, bouncing my knees like I'm impatiently waiting for something. I've got my vibrating wand, the "Cum-maker 5000" in my hand, sliding it down, pushing on my clit through my pants. It's about to happen. "Ah... ahhhhh... ah-- nnnn!!" I can't hold it anymore. It starts to trickle out, then gushes though the fabric of my panties in a solid stream. The wand's making pee splatter all over my thighs. "Ooooh, ohh, ooooohhh..." I'm moaning. I throw my head back, losing myself in it. I can feel it spreading across my ass, soaking into my pants. I can hear it running off the edge of my chair, dripping down on the towels underneath. As I totally drench myself, the wand brings me to a thunderous climax- you know, I'm moaning and screaming super loud. My "Roommates" can definitely hear me, but I have never, ever given a shit about that. I let arms drop down to my sides, the wand clattering to the floor as I drop it. I've got this contented, almost smug expression of pleasure and relief on my face. I squirm a bit, feeling my piss splash around on my seat, under my butt. Often times, I'll just stay this way for awhile. I like to be disgusting, sometimes. It brings me a sort of pleasure that's different- definitely sexual, but of a more perverse nature. I sit up and lean forward, rubbing and squeezing my wet pants idly, going to click off the porn channels- when something catches my eye. This is the embarrassing part. It's an advertisement for diapers. You know, the fetish kind of diapers. I don't typically indulge in them, it's not quite my thing. But these ones... they're adorable. They're all bright, pink, girly. They're patterned with flowers. My mouth starts to slowly fall open as I stare at them awhile. Before I even realize it, I'm waving my hand and flicking two fingers over the ad- and just like that, I bought them. Advertising is real fucked up stuff, honestly. You just start clicking and buying before your brain cells fire. I want those diapers more than anything, right now. It's not because of the fetish, really- it's because of the cuteness. This is my big secret, my real, real shameful secret- psychopathic, violent, horny, filthy Seli likes to be cute, sometimes. Yeah, I like to wear poofy, colorful little dresses, lacy stockings, frilly sleeves, alright? I'll even pose in front of the mirror- sometimes I even do those god-awful cutesy little dances you see all over the Galacta-cast. I already know exactly what outfit I'm gonna wear those diapers with. I can see it in my mind, now- those garish, pink poofy garments on my bottom, sticking out from underneath the shortest mini-skirt you've ever seen. I can see the shy, embarrassed look I'll make when I wet myself in them. I can even see the pout on my lips, the forced tears running down my cheeks, the expression of shame when I shit myself in these gay-ass, flowery little diapers. "I'm gonna cum so goddamn hard," I say to myself. I'm broken out of my trance by a sharp rap at my door. "Thirty minutes until deployment. Get yourself ready. And take a shower, will you? I can smell you through this door!" Columbia Jacosta, of course. One of my 'coworkers'. "Fuck off, Jacosta!" I sneer and give the middle finger to the door, as if she can see me. I never liked her. Arrogant, prissy cunt. Thinks she's so damn smart, so damn special. The single redeeming quality of hers, other than that tight ass she's got, is the fact that she likes to piss on me sometimes. I set out to getting the room cleaned up- I want everything to be tidy for my special dress-up time, once I get back from the mission. --- The Initalizer. That's what Mist named her ship. Kind of a stupid name, if you ask me- I think she was just trying to come up with something that sounded cool. When I asked about it, she gave me some shit about this ship being the initial incision that will kill the Psionic Empire with a million cuts. That's the REAL purpose of Chimera. The foundation touts all this bullshit about liberation, new opportunity, the unshackling of chains, but really, this is all just about deposing the power. Confusing, I know, since Mist is a Psion too. It's like a revenge thing. Don't think too hard about it. Anyway, that's the name of the ship. We all basically live here, the six top dogs of the Chimera Foundation, plus the boss, Mist. It's not too bad of a place. Nothing fancy, not too roomy, but it isn't cramped. The halls and floors are all winding, though, and it's real easy to get lost if you're drunk. I got put in a room near the sublight engines. They're noisy, but I'm used to it by now. I had originally chosen a room near the starboard bow, but I guess they got tired of hearing me screaming at the monitors when I'm losing in a game, or cumming loudly and violently, so they made me move. Upside to this room in the back is that it's got a washroom connected directly to it. This comes in real handy, as you may have guessed, when you've got a fetish for peeing everywhere. First thing I do is toss my swords at the wall. I curl my finger and use a little space magic, and they gently float themselves right onto the magnetic docks built into the wall plaque. I step out of my carbo-steel plated combat boots, kick them towards the other wall. I take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and let it out through my nostrils, relaxing and decompressing my body. As I'm exhaling, I let go of my bladder, and piss myself. This is sort of a ritual for me- I don't do it every time, but I usually do. There's something incredible about the sensation, after getting done chopping heads. I'm still hopped up on all that adrenaline and bloodlust, and when I do this, it all sort of just... comes out of me. It all came out of my bladder, too. It's noisy, splashing and splattering on the floor between my legs, running down my tights into my socks. It's hot and wet across my lap, down the inside of my legs. "Aaahhhh..." A little sigh of relief escapes me, and once I finish, I flick my hand to drag a towel over the puddle with my powers, and then go sit right in front of my console, plopping my wet ass into the seat like it's not a big deal. I giggle to myself at the way my wet butt squelches in the fake leather. My eye is drawn to the counter in the corner of the room that has my Microportal on it. Brief explanation: Microportals are space mailboxes. You order something on the Galacta-cast, you punch in your portal code, they pack it up for you, and drop the item through your portal. Big things have to be shipped still, though. Now, you may be wondering, "What's to stop someone from using your portal code to break into your room?" The answer is nothing. I killed a man this way once, back when I was a regular run of the mill Mercenary. Most people wouldn't fit through a microportal, though. I'm just that small. I had almost completely forgotten about what I ordered before I got sent out to fuck around and wreak some havoc. They were here. The packaging was discreet, but from the pink color and the flowers, I knew exactly what it was. "Fuckin' poggers," I say to myself as I hop out of my seat and rip open the packaging, running my fingers over the crinkly plastic backing. I pinch the padding, just to see what it felt like. I looked down at my pee-soaked leggings with a little frown, feeling like I sort of wasted that one, but the prep work I was gonna have to do, I'd be ready to go again in no time. One cleaned-up piss puddle and a bottom half shower later, I was ready to start dressing up. I tousled my hair with a towel, threw it haphazardly at the laundry chute, and pulled one of the diapers out of the box. I unfolded it, laid it on the bed, and stared at it like a damn retard. A flick of my wrist dragged one of my viewscreens over, and after searching "How to diaper" "How to diaper adult" "How to WEAR dieper adult" "What the fuck is diaper tape" "Cute Twink Boys in diapers" and a few other unimportant things, I finally figured out how to go about the process. Unfortunately, I fucked it up the first time, but I still had plenty left. Eventually, I got it right. I ran my palm over the puffy front of the humiliatingly cute diaper I was wearing. I kneaded my fingers into it, pushed the padding against my pussy. I was in love. "Why the fuck did I take so long to try these things?" I asked myself, sliding off my bed and onto my feet, to have a look at myself in the mirror. I was totally awed at how... CUTE, I looked. Completely nude, save for the flashy pink diaper- the light tone of it contrasted wonderfully with my ruby red skin. I turned on my heel, looking over my shoulder so I could get a glance at my padded butt. My cheeks were already red, but if they could, they would have gotten redder. "C-... Cute..." I damn near whispered to myself. I felt like a princess. For a few good minutes I just pranced and twirled around, giggling like a child. My head felt light, tingly. "Cute. I'm cute. Cute diaper baby Seli. Mm." I had not even hour-old memories of literally setting a man on fire and Psionic kicking him into his allies, and here I was fawning and cooing over a god damn diaper. I pulled my lower lip down with my index finger, staring at myself in the mirror and trying to look as head-empty as possible. "Widdle baby Seli needs her diapers!" I taunted myself, as if I were speaking to another person. "I need my diapers in case I have an accident!" This was when I remembered that diapers were originally intended for going to the bathroom in. I was thrilled about this- I squatted down, clenched my fists, and tried to soil myself. I stopped short, though- "No- I'm being impatient," I murmured. "Everything in it's right time." It was time to begin the method. First, the intake of water, and maybe a few shots to take the edge off the nervousness. Then, a few medications that I borrowed permanently from Columbia's Medlab without asking (Fuck you, Jocasta) that help make things a little bit more, mmm, 'difficult to control', shall we say. Now, it was time to dress up. I had a number of cute clothes hidden in a secret drawer underneath a box that's behind some spare ship parts. Don't tell anyone where I keep my stash. Today, I'm going with the frilly white dress. It has a big pink ribbon on the front, gold tassels, lace patterns, and a matching skirt that was so short it might as well have just been a tutu. (I also have a tutu.) I also wore white flat slippers, with ribbons that went up my legs. My hair is a little short, but it's long enough that I can pull it into two tiny pig tails on the sides. Next comes the pink lipstick, the concealer, the eye shadow, the mascara... I've done this enough times that it doesn't take too long, by now. Once everything was done, I went back to my bedroom mirror to look at myself. My mouth hung open just a bit, and I simply stared. I was adorable. This, the whole thing... with this crinkly, big, obvious diaper on my butt, it was all so much better than I could have imagined. I was so excited I peed a little bit. "Oop! Not yet, sweetie~" I chided my own urethra, rubbing my diaper against my crotch. At this point, I'm starting to feel a little desperate. I put it out of my mind- for this one, I don't want to have any control. I twist and turn in the mirror, making cute faces, putting my fingers up in a V, sucking playfully on my thumb. After preening for awhile, I turn to head back to my lovely fake leather seat and distract myself with games until I get more desperate, when I hear the hydraulic hiss of the door behind me. The color drains out of my face, leaving my cheeks as pink as the shade of my diaper. You remember when I said that I got caught by my boss? This was it. "Seli," Mist said with that creepy-ass, emotionally dead tone of voice that she always had. She was looking down at a datapad, so I had just enough time to get behind my chair. She might see me in this ridiculous get up, but she wasn't seeing that diaper, so help me. "I need your after-battle report--" It may have been the very first time in my life I had ever seen Mist stunned. Well, she always wears that freaky helmet and full-body suit, so I can't really say I've ever ACTUALLY seen Mist at all. Anyway, the way she stared at me from behind that black visor saying absolutely nothing communicated more emotion than I would have seen if I could actually see her face. Meanwhile, I looked like a fucking crack addict, with my eyes wide open like that. "GET THE FUCK OUT!!" I screamed at her. "Well," She replied, frustratingly cool and collected. She clipped her datapad to her belt, and went to turn around. "It seems that you are a girl, after all. I'll speak to you later." I reached behind me and picked up an empty beer can, chucking it at her in a rage. "DON'T YOU FUCKING KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?" I continued to berate her as the beer can bounced harmlessly off her reinforced carbon plastic helmet. It is frustratingly impossible to get a rise out of her, so she just ignores me and goes on her way. Mortified, I slump down and sit in my seat, and my diaper crinkles audibly as I fall on it. Mist stops. I'm about to cry, but I'm holding it back- bad enough that I got seen in this gay ass skirt, I can't let them know I CRY too. I do cry sometimes, it's true. I'm not made of steel or anything. I'm rubbing my eyes with both hands, acting like I'm just frustrated, when I realize I haven't heard her leave yet. "What was that sound?" the boss asks. I drop my hands and put them in my lap, tugging the tiny skirt down. She can't see it if I'm sitting on it, right? "W- what sound?" I lie. I hear my door shut, but she didn't leave. A cold sweat is beading on the back of my neck, and I'm starting to feel a twisting in my gut that could either be fear, anxiety, or bathroom desperation. "Why don't you leave me the FUCK alone!?" I scowled back at her, and with a *foomp*, I was effortlessly lifted up in the air. I squealed with shock and tugged my skirt down in vain. I'd wondered about this kind of situation, whether I could beat Mist in a fight- But I don't think I could do it without my weapons. I mean shit, she's got actual academy training. She's basically a Jedi, and I'm a cracked out adrenaline junkie that can do flips. "Ah, I see. That's what that sound was," the cruel and unusual bitch taunted me, reaching up and prodding my diapers with a finger. "I see now that not only are you a girl, but a little girl at that." The rollercoaster of emotions I was experiencing had just left the tracks and crashed, like when you build a shitty coaster on Rollercoaster Tycoon. I bit my lower lip and screwed up my face, but I couldn't hold it back anymore. "I- h--h-- hate--" I stammered miserably, tears starting to streak down my cheeks. "Y- you..." But it didn't matter if I hated her, or if I said anything at all. I was defeated, here. There was no way out, no going back, no going forward. I got floated back down, and to my astonishment, I was gently shushed. "A crybaby little girl, too? Isn't that endearing." I sniffled and tried to get myself back into my usual aloof and shameless frame of mind, but I couldn't. Mist lowered me down right in front of her, and reached up to rub away my tears with her thumb. It was at this point that I really hated my shortness- she seemed like a giant in comparison, the way I had to look up at her. "Now, now. There's no need to be sad," She cooed to me. Her voice sounded sweet and motherly to me, even if it was still dead and emotionless. Maybe I was in a state of shock, or just desperate for some kind of approval, but I enjoyed it. I felt... so vulnerable. This was a new feeling, something I hadn't experienced before during my dalliances with cuteness. "I won't share your adorable little secret. You might not be aware, but I happen to be very good at keeping secrets." This much I knew for certain- nobody even knew what this bitch looked like. I felt like I could trust her. I wanted to be comforted. Words and logic were sort of failing me, but it was like she knew exactly what I wanted, and invited me into her arms. I buried my face in her breasts- I was always envious of those perfect titties Mist had. Even trapped inside of that suit, they still felt soft to me. "It is about time that you realized you needed these," she gently teased me, reaching back and patting my diapered bottom condescendingly. "Did you think I hadn't noticed how much laundry you go through?" My voice was muffled, but I managed to sheepishly reply "...No...", starting to accept my fate. Cute. I was being cute, babyish, and sweet- and I was doing it in front of a person. In front of my BOSS, of all people. How did she know how to do this, how to treat me like this? Why did I suddenly feel all okay with what was going on? Just as I was sorting these emotions, I felt that tremor in my belly. My knees unconsciously pinched together. I didn't have much time left. I ought to have been far too ashamed to do THAT in front of her, but... A little groan escaped me, and I wet a little bit. "My," my tormentor turned caretaker commented dryly. "I see a little girl who's going to have an accident. You can't make it to the washroom? It's just right there." This inspired me, for some reason, even though I had put them on to use them in the first place. I wanted to make it! Or try to make it, anyway. I wanted to impress her, so I took a few bumbling steps towards the washroom, but a cramp froze me in my tracks. I was really sweating now- this was gonna be a bad one. I leaked a little again- at this point, I typically know I'm past the point of no return. But Mist, she stepped up behind me, put her gloved hands on my hips tenderly. "Just give up," She whispered to me. This was so much more different than I had expected. Typically it's simple, I groan and writhe, I lose control, I squirm in my filth, make myself cum a few times, and then I'm done. Simple and clean- well, figuratively clean. This time, when I heard those words, I experienced a sort of... sinking sensation, in my head. I felt comfortable, warm... free, in a way. I obeyed, and proceeded to *massively* wet and soil my diapers. I just... lost control. I no longer felt like I NEEDED control. I started by just gushing piss, relaxing and wetting myself. It felt so wonderfully warm, and I could feel it spread all over my crotch. I could feel my diaper swelling up, forcing my legs apart. My legs quaked, and I dipped down a little bit, and the rest came, too. It was filthy, like I expected- totally uncontrollable. All kinds of disgusting noises came from my backside. I could feel a flush of heat in my cheeks. I felt dirty, and usually when I feel dirty, it turns me on- but not this time. I was mostly just astounded- I kept looking down because I couldn't believe that I was having this kind of total loss of control, but everything was... contained. Suddenly I felt weak. I felt this rush of blood to my head, and I wobbled and began to fall backwards. But she was there... she caught me. "I suppose you do need those diapers after all. Fascinating. In such a short time, you've become an adorable, stinky little baby. Is it everything you had hoped for?" She asked, but I wasn't really listening. I was enraptured by this feeling- I felt utterly filthy, but it also felt incredible. I had to see. Once I found my feet again, I waddled over to the bedroom mirror, to look at myself. My cute pink diapers were swollen from my accident. The bulge on my bottom was enormous, clearly visible. I had to touch it- tracing my fingertips over it. "C-- cute..." I muttered to myself again. Somehow, being in a dirty, soiled diaper made the whole outfit look even cuter. I couldn't help but to suck on the tip of my finger, and stare obsessively into the mirror, like that stupid-ass dude who died from staring at his own reflection for too long. "Very cute," Mist concurred, coming to stand behind me. My knees felt weak again, and I slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor with my knees bent, right in my accident. "Is it time for a change, little one?" She asked me, and I shook my head. No, I was enjoying this. "Ah, I see. You *want* to be a stinky diaper baby, yes?" I giggled, and although I could hear my own voice, it felt as if it were very far away. "Y-yea... I wanna just... mm..." I unconsciously rocked back and forth, making the whole thing worse. "How... are you doing all this sh... shi..." The word wouldn't come out. I just couldn't say it, I was incapable of swearing for some reason, which is sort of like a fish being incapable of swimming. "I have dabbled in such a thing before, with a previous lover, long ago. Allow me to show you some more..." Mist hooked one of her arms under mine, and lifted me up, guiding me over to my bed. She plucked my vibrating wand out of my drawer of sex toys like she had always known it was there, and pushed it against my soaked diaper. It wasn't nearly as intense as usual, but eventually, she brought me to climax with it. It took some coercing, as I had started to become more bratty and sullen, but she eventually got me into a clean diaper, too. I had no idea how long it had been, but eventually I was calmed and soothed, and I ended up sitting in her lap, facing her and resting my head on her chest, eyes glazed over and ready for a nap. "When you are feeling this urge," Mommy Mist cooed to me, rubbing my back to keep me relaxed, "You may come to my quarters. I still have many cute little things that would be perfect for you." I murmured some kind of understanding in response, turning my head the other way and bringing my thumb into my mouth. As I closed my eyes, I was vaguely aware of a not-at-all urgent need to pee. Normally I could hold it, but I was compelled to just let go, and wet my diapers again. The hissing sound of my pee against the padding was almost like a soothing white noise. "Silly, wet little girl," Mist teased me- but I was already long gone, and fast asleep.
  4. This is the story of a cute, redheaded human girl who wets herself and has sex. It's obviously more nuanced than that, but you'll find that out. There is messing, but I'll make sure there is an indicator where the messing part is, so that you can see it. This story is a one-shot. No more chapters after this. Characters Erin O'Donnel, the narrator and main character of the story. Erin is a medicinal researcher, a peon in the massive system that is the corporation which owns the planet she was born on. Erin has high hopes of doing something meaningful with her life, instead of just obeying the plan set for her and fitting into the paradigm. She also likes to wet her pants and have many, many orgasms. Columbia Jacosta, the head of the Research and Development department of Chimera, a terrorist organization turned government. She is cool, calculating, and horny. Columbia is hispanic- the picture does not QUITE do her justice in that sense. Mist- The leader of the terrorist group "Chimera". Mist is an enigmatic figure, and there is almost nothing known about her. She is extremely protective of her identity, and wields great power. She doesn't have a last name, like Madonna. The Story Begins... Chimera! Oh, to work for Chimera! Never in my life, not once, have I felt the sense of purpose, the dignity, and the righteousness, that I feel working for Chimera. They call it a terrorist organization, but they simply don't understand. Through Chimera, we are freed. *I* certainly was! I had given four years to Medicorp, before Chimera came. I had been raised on Planet Medicorp, I had been taught by Medicorp Education, I had been hired and trained by Medicorp Inc. The corporation had been my world- nay, it had been my universe! I would have been lucky to consider myself a cog in the machine. No, no matter how hard I worked, I was never a 'cog'. Perhaps a pin, or a screw- but nothing so important as a cog. Then, Chimera came, and set me free. To explain, for those of you who may not understand- in the year 2248, corporations own planets. There are no countries, no governments. There is only the rule of PSI, and the obedient corporations which live to serve the Psionic Order's desires- and line their pockets in the process. I lived on the planet Medicorp. I was born on the planet Medicorp, and I was fully convinced I would die on the planet Medicorp. It may seem bleak, but to be frank, it was a decent existence. I had food to eat, a comfortable bed, work that challenged me, and luxuries that tittilated me. This did not change when Chimera took over, save for the fact of tittilation. Oh, how very tittilated I was, by Chimera. To explain further-- Chimera was a terriorist organization which rose in the year 2251. "Chimera", the beast with 3 heads, they called themselves! An apt title, because of their three departments. The "Enforcement Department", which, to the media, was little more than a gaggle of thugs- the "Humanoid Resources" department, ran by a literal gangster, turned political- and my favorite, the "Research & Development" department, headed by Mistress Columbia Jacosta- the most beautiful, intelligent, powerful woman I have ever seen in my life. I am not ashamed to admit I had masturbated to her several times. That is, before I met her in person. My name is Erin O'Donnel. I am a green-eyed, red-haired, pale-skinned, freckled girl. I like to believe I have an attractive body- my breasts are a C cup, and I am within my ideal BMI. I am a scientist, if you haven't guessed this by now, and I once worked for Medicorp. I confess, while I did watch the Galacta-streams concerning the rising of Chimera, I never considered that they might come to my planet. I also never cared, until I saw Mistress Columbia on the screen. I immediately fell in love with her. Though she might have loose morals, though she might be callous, heartless, and manipulative, I still love her. In fact, I love her even more for this. She is the epitome of everything I had ever hoped to be- attractive, intelligent, successful, powerful... brave. Unfortunately, I will never be brave- but I like to fantasize. I also like to fantasize about situations in which I am not brave. That is, ah, situations in which I wet myself in terror. I get off to this sort of thing. Medicorp is- sorry, was, the premier producer of medical supplies in the known Galaxy. You may have guessed from the name. As for my job, I was a Gene Mapper. I spent my days tweaking and tinkering with DNA and RNA strands to try and produce an "Ideal Cell", the end-product of my job, which could be cloned and injected. The concept was that an Ideal Cell would behave like a stem cell, but with a specific purpose pre-programmed into it. Ideal Cells could be injected into cancer to re-grow the cancer cells into functional tissue- not just 'destroying' the cancer, but actually manipulating it into something good for the body! I was very proud of this research. I was also proud of my role in it. This sort of research was planned by generations- In the ancient past, like perhaps the year 2023, this project was started with the expectation that scientists like me would give their entire lives to it, breed, educate their children, and have their children replace them. Naturally, this is a lot of pressure. Being a fundamental part of this ambition made me proud, but also gave me nightmares. I wet the bed until I was 12 years old. I also still wet the bed sometimes, even though I am 26 years old, but it is very rare. I also occasionally wet my pants. This will be explained later. Putting it simply, I often get very distracted- very involved in my work. When Chimera came, I was blessed enough to meet Mistress Columbia and shake her hand. My 'involvement' in my work soon bordered on obsession. While the ownership of the planet changed, the goal did not- and I was absolutely determined to produce results as quickly as possible. While "Ideal Cells" were originally designed as a cure for cancer, they could very easily be used in curatives and wound bindings- something that is in high demand, when you are trying to overthrow the government of an entire galaxy. I cared not for the far-reaching medical goals, or the consequences of rebellion- the only thing I cared about was impressing Mistress Columbia. So busy, I was! Busy, busy busy! Oh, I was especially busy, on the day of the breakthrough. It had been four months since Chimera had liberated the planet Medicorp. Certainly, a number of my friends and colleagues had died in the invasion, and I survived by hiding in a closet and crying to myself- but it had been worth it. Under Chimera I was better paid, given more time off, and more benefits. Also, I was assured in the knowledge that my research would help a woman I revered as a Goddess, were I successful. I distinctly remember having discomfort in my belly that day. Miss Columbia herself was on the planet, touring the facilities, and I was completely determined to complete the research. I neglected the needs of my body, focusing instead on the computers, the microscopes, the glass slides. Eventually the discomfort in my belly went away- I paid it no second thought. I clocked in early, I skipped my lunch, and I worked into the evening- by 1600 Galactic Standard Time, the prototype of the Ideal Cell had been completed. As I was the head of this project, I gathered the data (Put it on a thumb drive,) and rushed it to Mistress Columbia herself. This was the second time I had met her, the second time I had been graced with the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand. I gave her the materials. She flipped the device idly in her hand, plugging it into a wearable computer attached to her wrist, and parsed the data in a matter of seconds. She did not seem interested in it, much to my dismay. But the dismay did not last, because it seemed that I was the thing that had caught her interest. "You've spent your whole day on preparing this data for me, haven't you?" She asked me, looking me over. Her eyes seemed lascivious to me- but that may have been my hope, rather than my observation. "Yes!" I told her eagerly. "I wanted to make sure it was ready for you, Miss Jacosta! This- This is my life's work, and you hold it in your hand. I hope that it pleases you." "Indeed," the woman replied to me, as if it were not important at all. "I'd like to show you something. Will you come with me?" She asked me, yet, she also reached down and grasped my hand. I almost fainted then and there, but I persevered, and went with her. Her question was a command, and I was compelled to obey. In a daze, I allowed her to lead me along by the hand, unaware of what was happening. We gradually made our way to the suite she was staying in. A mere wave of her hand unlocked the door, and she brought me inside. Fear gripped me at this moment- me, personally, invited into the home of a genius? I wasn't worthy! "Shhh," Mistress Columbia cooed to me, as if sensing my anxiety and fear. Her hand was soft against my cheek, and I looked expectantly up to her. I had not realized it until just now, but she was nearly a full foot taller than me. I felt small in comparison, but I also felt pleasure. "Come with me." The bronze skinned woman lead me gently over to her refresher room, and parked me in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. "What do you see?" She asked me. The nuance of this question overwhelmed me. I was unsure what I was supposed to see, and began hyper-fixating on the various details of my dress. "M- My lab coat's collar is slightly uneven on the left side?" I asked, and Mistress Columbia shook her head. "No, not that! Try again." I tilted my head, reached up and neurotically plucked at my wavy red hair. "I- I didn't brush my hair properly this morning?" I asked again, but the brilliant scholar still shook her head. "Not quite," She told me. "Do you need a hint?" Sheepishly, I nodded. I may or may not have needed a hint, but the act of asking for help ingratiated myself to her, made me dependent on her- I desired this greatly. Immediately, I got my wish. "Here," Mistress Columbia said, tantalizingly raking her fingers up the back of my thigh, until she gripped my bottom. "You don't feel it?" She asked me. "Are you truly that incompetent?" Panic gripped me, at that sentence. "I- I'm--" I stammered, as she moved in closer to me, still squeezing and groping my ass. "Look," She commanded me, as her hands wandered across my body. One hand stopped at the front of my thigh, and tapped my inner leg. "Look here, with your eyes, dimwit. You don't see?" She asked me once again. Though I had been in a state of elation the entire time, I managed to come down from my high just enough to follow her hand with my eyes, and look at myself. I looked at my inner thighs. Wet. They were wet. Slowly, my eyes widened as I realized. Wet! My pants were wet! I had ignored the needs of my body in order to push out the finished product of my research, and my urethra had given up on me. I had lost bladder control, and urinated in my pants. Worse, still- I had completely wet my pants, and I didn't even notice. I had scurried up to Mistress Columbia, bowed and groveled and presented my research to her, and the entire time I reeked of piss, my pants clinging wetly to my legs. A wail of absolute dismay escaped me. I remember my face being hot, so hot- I must have been blushing, my cheeks bright red. I reached down to cover my groin with both hands, as if that could somehow hide what I had done- but Mistress Columbia grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away. "Bad!" She chided me teasingly, leaning in and putting her chin on my shoulder. "Grabbing yourself between the legs, at your age? That's almost more shameful than wetting yourself." My free hand slowly went down to my side. My body trembled, my throat felt dry. I swallowed, though nothing was in my mouth, staring in the mirror at my pissy pants. "I... I'm sorry..." I managed to stammer out. I wanted to cry, but I refused- I needed to be strong, even in this situation! Yet, even though I felt that way, Mistress Jacosta broke down my walls as if they were made of paper. "You're sorry?" She berated me, reaching up and pinching my jaw with her thumb and forefinger. "You come to me, presenting some research I could have come up with in the shower, having pissed in your fucking pants, and you think sorry will fix it?" I began to cry. My toes curled in my shoes, my hands clenched into fists, and I tried as hard as I could to keep a straight face- but it wasn't enough. I cried. Tears began to streak down my cheeks, ruin my mascara. I was unbelievably ashamed- I was horrified, that not only had I done such a thing, but Mistress Columbia was punishing me for it. "I- I'm- s-- so-- sorry---" I stammered out, trying not to choke. I tried as best as I could, but the only thing I could manage to do was look even more pathetic. Mistress Columbia Jacosta adored this. I could see the way her lips spread open in a sadistic smile of delight. I could see her perfect, clear white teeth. I could see the wild lust in her eyes, that she kept just barely under control. "Piss-pants," She taunted me, fingers raking across my bottom as she moved around in front of me. She stood face to face with me, looking down at me- pinching my jaw and forcing me to look up at her. "You are the most pathetic creature I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," She told me. The scientist pinched my jaw, forced my mouth to open ever so slightly, and leaned over me. Columbia swirled her tongue in her mouth, cleared her throat- and spat directly in my mouth. "Swallow," She commanded me, pushing my chin up with her palm, so my mouth would shut. I wanted to gag- I wanted to cough, to throw up. Mistress Columbia must have sensed this, because she pinched my nostrils shut with her free hand, narrowing her eyes cruelly at me. "SWALLOW," She demanded again... and I did. Blood rushed to my labia, as I became aroused. Columbia gave me a few condescending pats on the cheek, smirking down at the terrified look on my face. "Good girl," She said to me, and I felt a flush of heat between my legs. "You're cute," the golden blonde woman complimented me, sliding her hand behind my lower back. "I- I'm- This isn't p- proper--" I rebutted, trying to adhere to protocol, but I was utterly, completely under her spell. "You aren't proper," She taunted me. "You don't have much worth, either. Except, that you're cute. Except, that I like your body." She tilted her head into a kiss to my cheek, and I completely melted for her. "M- Miss-- Miss Columbia-" I began, and she put an index finger against my lips. "Mommy, " She corrected me. "Mommy, or Mistress. You don't get to call me anything else. Now, what should I call you?" She asked me, coaxing me back into the bedroom. My head was spinning- I wanted to be her property. I wanted to call her 'Mommy'. "Since you still pee in your pants, should I call you baby?" She asked me as she laid me down on the bed, even in my wet pants. "Perhaps I should call you PET," she teased me yet again. My words caught in my throat, as her hands went to my waist and began undoing the buttons on my pants. My heart was beating so fast, I could feel it in my throat. I covered my face with both hands, laying back on the bed, the feeling of shame somehow stronger than my arousal. "W-What-- what are you doing to me?" I stammered, as Columbia was beginning to pull down my pants. The question seemed to stun her. After a brief pause, she crawled up onto the bed, to sit next to me. "I... am trying to have sex with you," She told me, in a straightforward, yet somehow comforting manner. I lowered my hands enough that I could peek past my fingers, up into her amber eyes. "B- But you-- You said all those... those mean things..." I whimpered. The bronze haired woman smiled sweetly at me, bending over such that she was face-to-face with me, brushing a strand of my red hair out of my face. "I'm dominating you," She stated. My cheeks got even redder, my pussy got even wetter, and I had to cover my eyes with both hands again. "You don't like it?" Mistress Columbia asked me. "I can smell your pheromones. Every signal in your body is betraying the truth, girl. You're sexually attracted to me." Even though she was right, I shook my head with embarrassment, parting my fingers so I could look through them. "B-but... but... I... I peed..." I managed to stammer, feeling a tingling sensation in my scalp. "I... I w--... I we...." "You wet yourself," Columbia finished for me, and I covered my face again with both hands. I nodded in acknowledgement. The soft ceiling light of the room lit up my eyes, as I felt my wrists taken and moved away. My eyes snapped open, to see the woman I worshipped face-to-face with me, a playful smirk on her lips. "I like that," She confessed to me. Before the words could register, she tilted her head in, and our lips met. She moved my hands up, up above my head while she kissed me. Her tongue went in my mouth, and I closed my eyes and writhed my tongue along with hers. It was erotic, naughty, but also... tender. I remember that kiss very fondly. A little strand of saliva connected our lower lips as she broke away, and the brown skinned woman rubbed her mouth with her wrist. "I like pathetic girls like you, who wet themselves. I like them very much," Mistress Columbia told me as she stroked my cheek, still flush with blood. She scooted over to the edge of the bed, standing and taking a few steps away. "D- do you like my research?" I asked, shuffling back and sitting upright, propped up on my elbows. A deep, exotic laugh reverberated out of the woman. "Oh, no. Well- I'm interested in your method, and your dedication. But, your research?" She asked me as she turned, facing me and plucking the hems of her skirt with both hands. "Child's play." Despite the act that she was about to commit, Mistress Columbia was the picture of grace, and confidence. She winked at me as she lifted her skirt. She licked her upper lip, parting her legs. I could see her panties clearly- white silk, underneath tan pantyhose that was almost invisible against her legs. "Watch," she commanded me, as if I wasn't already rapt with her. Her panties darkened, as a gush of urine soaked them, and began to run down her inner thighs. Her white panties discolored yellow. Pee gushed down her legs, soaking her pantyhose, splattering all over the floor. She did it effortlessly- there was no pause, no awkwardness. I watched the woman I had been obsessed with piss herself like it was nothing, and my hand went into my wet pants. I didn't even realize I was touching myself. "Mmmmmm, that feels good," She moaned, as if to taunt me. A smirk tugged at the edges of her lips, as she watched my shocked, aroused reaction. I stared at her like an imbecile, my mouth wide open. My mouth must have been inviting, because she came closer to me. She shrugged her lab coat over her shoulders, allowing it to drop off her body into her pee puddle. Mistress Columbia pulled the zipper of her skirt up, the piece of clothing coming undone and falling to her feet as she let go of it. With one hand, she pulled the sleek amber top she wore up over her head, and tossed it aside, crawling into bed with me. "Now we're even. You wet yourself, I wet myself," The bronze haired woman said in an effort to soothe me. Still, I couldn't speak- still, I couldn't think. I mentioned earlier, that I sometimes pee in my pants- frequently it is an accident, but sometimes... it is on purpose. All those times I pissed myself, touched myself, and came, I never imagined sharing this kind of debauchery with another woman- much less a woman who I worshipped. Mistress came onto the bed, straddling my body. She pet my hair fondly, cupped my cheek with her palm. "Mmm, I like pee. You do too, don't you? I could tell." She pinched my cheek, wiggling it like I was a child. "I... I do," I remember replying. "I like to wet myself. It feels good," Mistress Columbia confessed to me, as she crawled her way up. She reached down with both hands, holding me by my cheeks, keeping me in place. "I like to pee on people, too." She scooted up one last time, and lowered herself onto my face, grinding her groin against my mouth. "And... I like to make them drink," my Goddess told me, holding my head in place. Squirming, positioning herself just right, she began to wet herself again- urinating into my mouth, through her panties. "Drink," She commanded me. I couldn't say no- I couldn't deny her. I didn't want to. "Drink," She demanded, and I did. I swallowed her pee. I drank her piss happily. After the pee play, Mistress Columbia finally stripped off her pantyhose, and panties. She peeled my wet pants down off my legs too, teasing and insulting me the entire time. She got me naked, and we had sex. It felt like hours, the time we spent having sex- she touched me, groped me, fingered me. I climaxed in nearly record time! However, that wasn't the end of it. Mistress Columbia fingered me, licked me, caressed me- she gave me pleasure I used to only dream of. She wore a strap-on, and fucked me like I was her plaything. I orgasmed again, and again- but even though I experienced such wonderful pleasure, it paled in comparison to the climax I gave her. I still remember the sound of her screams of pleasure- I still remember the taste of her cum. I lay entangled with her in bed, once we had finished. The sheets were haphazardly cast over us. She laid on her back, one hand holding my thigh, the other rubbing my back. I laid on my side, attached to her- my thigh up on her lap, my head in the crook of her arm. I nuzzled against her side, slid my hand up and squeezed her chest, and she giggled. "You haven't had enough?" Mistress Columbia asked me. "I have," I murmured, "But I still want to touch." I raised my head and scooted up, so that I could breathe and speak. "You really think my work is child's play?" I asked, my pride wounded. Columbia pursed her lip, giving an 'mmm' of thought. "Your work is interesting, and it will serve Chimera well. But, it is not why I came here." This admission inflated my ego. I smiled, pleased, squirming and gently sliding my hips up and down, rubbing my wet, gooey pussylips against Mistress Columbia's thigh. "Did you come here to fuck me?" I asked, and the darker skinned woman replied with a sultry chuckle, her hand going down my back to squeeze my ass. "I did," She admitted that too. "But, there was a reason more important than that." My humping became more eager- before I knew it, I was aroused again, and wanted to have sex. "What reason?" I asked impudently. Mistress slid her arm underneath me, and pulled me on top of her. I was smaller than her, and I fit quite comfortably on top of her- our breasts mashed together, face to face, looking into each other's eyes. My eyes shone with nothing less than utter infatuation- hers glimmered with playfulness. "You wet yourself," She told me, and my face went red with embarrassment. Before I could protest, she put her hand behind my head and pulled me in, silencing me by kissing me. Regardless, I frowned at her once the kiss was done. "W-what do you mean?" I demanded. "Your body language- your expression. You give away endless information about yourself, pet, in ways that only someone like me can see," She told me. I opened my mouth to protest, but she put her finger against my lips instead, and shushed me. "You're a bottom," She told me. "Submissive. Obedient. You're exactly what I want. I could see that tell-tale discoloration on your pants, even though you think it washed out." At this point, my face was red enough to serve as a backdrop for a Tarantino film, but still, Mistress wouldn't let me speak. "You pee your pants for pleasure, don't you?" She accused me, craning her neck up and kissing me before I could deny it. "You wet yourself and masturbate, hmm? I'd say... at least three times a week." She was correct. After some minutes of sloppy, passionate kissing, I managed to pry myself away. My face was hot and red, and I had a bratty expression of frustration on my face. "S- so?" I asked, as if it were totally normal to do what I do. "So what? What are you going to do about it?" This was the wrong question- or rather, the right question. Mistress Columbia pinched my nipple and twisted, narrowing her eyes at me, pulling me against her warm, soft body. "I'm going to punish you," She threatened me, twisting my nipple a little harder. I whimpered at the pain. "Pathetic, piss-pants girl. You're my bitch, now. You're never going to make it to the toilet again." We had sex again, after that. ---- I woke up in her arms. I hadn't expected that- Columbia Jacosta had a reputation for being callous, manipulative, and selfish. I had expected her to leave in the night, having gotten her fill. But she didn't. I woke up in her arms, and I was the happiest girl on Planet Medicorp. I squirmed, writhing my way up so that I could kiss her on the lips, but when I opened my mouth, she put her hand against it. "Terrible," she muttered in a half-awake daze, and I frowned at her. "Oh, and your morning breath is better, is it?" I taunted her. One of her amber eyes popped open, and she looked directly down at my face. Ten minutes later, I was tied, bent over, hanging from the ceiling, and being whipped on the ass with a bundle of plastic cords. I genuinely cried with pain from the experience, and also had an orgasm. "This is turning me on," I declared to my Mistress, about half an hour after my punishment session. Mistress Columbia was dressing me up. I was trying to squeeze into a pair of her pants- and I wasn't capable of doing it alone. Despite the fact that the Hispanic woman who I had completely submitted to had a plumper, thicker bottom than I did, I still could barely fit in her jeans. She was holding them by the belt loops, yanking them up for me. "You have to bounce," She told me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. "It feels like you're giving me a wedgie!" I complained. Mistress laughed at me. I love the sound of her laugh- tinkling, classy, rich and passionate. "Do you want me to give you a wedgie?" she asked, and I sheepishly nodded. "I want to wet myself while you give me a wedgie." Mistress tugged hard, and the jeans finally came up over my hips. "That can be arranged." Columbia had dressed me up. I never wore clothes like this, not on purpose. The pale denim jeans that hugged my every curve were one thing, but the black high-heels I was standing in, the white halter-top that didn't cover my belly, the fuzzy faux-fur scarf around my neck- Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead in something like this. "I look like a prostitute," I complained. My Mistress spanked me in rebuttal. "Prostitutes get paid. You're a slut." There was something immensely enjoyable about the way I looked, the way I felt. I knew I looked garish, but I also felt indulgent. I turned on one heel, looking over my shoulder in the full length mirror that Mistress Columbia had shown me my pissed-in pants just the previous day. "I feel pretty," I declared. In the heels, I was only just barely taller than Columbia- she had to pinch my chin, and pull my face down, to kiss me. "You are pretty." Mistress Columbia walked a circle around me, analyzing the fit of the outfit, reaching out and tugging out a wrinkle here, a fold there. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, you are pretty." To me, this was a compliment beyond God- I was pleased to be pretty for Mistress. I wanted nothing more than to be her pretty plaything. I spent all my years studying, researching, working- It was what I knew, it was what I was good at. Yet, I still felt a pull, a desire to be cute, obedient, and stupid. "Thank you, Mommy~" She treated me like a prizewinning dog, the way that she trotted around me. Her finger pushed into my thigh, running up towards my groin. I stood still, but I couldn't stop the tingling sensation from going to my head. "Plump thighs," She determined. Columbia went around behind me, and I felt her palm grope my butt, rubbing up and down. "Good ass, mmm, yes. Excellent ass," She determined. I blushed girlishly, like just getting fondled was totally normal. "T-thank you," I replied. Her hand slid up my belly, under my shirt. It lingered there on my stomach, and she gently gave a little pinch. "Good. Some fat." That same hand slid all the way up, under my shirt, and cupped my breast. It squeezed, caressed, groped. "Very nice. Pleasant breasts, squeezable." She played with my chest far longer than was needed for a simple assessment- I felt myself giving in to it, felt my body grow warm, my labia swell with arousal. Mistress let go of me, running her hand up and down the side of my body, feeling the depth of my curve. She leaned in, nibbled on my earlobe, and licked the side of my face. "Wet yourself," She commanded me. So, I did. I wasn't aware of it happening, at first. I didn't do it because I wanted to- I did it because she ordered me to. "W... what...?" I asked in vain. My urethra relaxed, and I started urinating well before the command even registered with my brain. A hot, wet crescent of pee gushed across the back of my thighs, under my ass. The tightness of the denim pants I wore had considerable effect in the way I wet my pants. Those glistening crescents grew a little larger, and dozens of rivulets streaked down the back of my thighs. I wasn't wearing any panties, so the force of my pee stream against my jeans made for an audible hsssssssshhhhh, the obvious sound of my wetting serving to further humiliate me. "A-- ahh-- ahhh....." little whimpers and moans escaped from me, as I pissed my pants helplessly. I was drenched- the back of my thighs were soaking wet, down to my knees, before I was even aware I was peeing. My awareness suddenly snapped in, and I looked down at my lap, seeing the wet patch darkening the fabric on my lap. "Ah!!!" I cried out, shocked at what was happening. I managed to cut my pee stream off. "H- How did you--" I stammered out, but Mistress Columbia shushed me, putting a finger against my lips. "Wet yourself," she commanded me again. I'll never forget the feeling that washed over my body. It felt warm all over, I felt tingles in my fingertips. I felt as if my mind had simply melted. My eyes half-lidded, my entire body relaxed. My urethra relaxed. I resumed pissing my pants in full-force, as natural as if I had been sitting on the toilet. Wet yourself, wet yourself, wet yourself... the command was integral to my very being. Mommy told me to wet myself, so I'll wet myself. I'm wetting myself... my pants are wet... I'm peeing in my pants... "M... Mommy..." I muttered, my head spinning from the accident. My pussy was positively burning with *need*, but I felt like I couldn't move. I felt my pee gush down the insides of my legs, down the back of my thighs, down into my socks and heels. It felt so good! It felt so right. "Mommy, I... I went pee-pee...." I muttered, speaking words that weren't my own. Mistress Columbia breathed deeply, trying to control herself, but it was clear that she was beyond aroused. She turned me, reaching up and taking my chin, forcing me to look over my shoulder. "Do you see?" She asked me. "See..." I murmured, still in a trance. My eyes flitted to my own legs, in the mirror. They scanned up the back of my calves and thighs. Wet... I was wet. My pants were soaking wet. I had peed my pants. Somehow, seeing it like this snapped me out of the trance. My eyes opened wide, my cheeks blushed pink, and I went to start taking off my pants, but Mistress stopped me. "Don't you see?" She asked again. Two of her fingers ran up and down the hot, damp piss patch on the back of my thighs. "Women are most beautiful when they piss their pants." She was right. I'm not sure how I suddenly comprehended this- I'm not sure how my outlook suddenly changed. It wasn't mind control, because I knew about that. It wasn't a perverted delusion. My tight, tight jeans were soaking wet with pee, because I had wet myself, and it was gorgeous. I couldn't help but pose in the mirror. I stroked my wet thigh. I pulled my waistband out, looked inside my jeans. I pulled the waistband of my jeans out, and wet myself, so that I could see the pee stream splatter against the denim. It was beautiful! It was naughty, kinky... but it was beautiful. "How did you do that to me?" I asked, fascinated with what had just happened. I bent over, rubbing my hands up and down the back of my piss soaked thighs. I stared at my wet pants in the mirror, like I was in a trance. "I instilled the command in your mind, while you were sleeping," Mistress Columbia explained to me. She tugged my jeans waistband out with one hand, reaching into my wet pants with her other hand, teasing my clitoris with two fingers. "There are plenty of commands that will work on you. Most, demand obedience... but some..." Mistress didn't get to finish her point. My apartment was fairly small, though it served my purposes well. A connected bathroom, a kitchenette and living room, a bedroom. We were in the living room, in front of a mirror, getting frisky when the front door opened. It wasn't supposed to do that- It had been locked- but, whoever was coming through the door couldn't be stopped by such a simple mechanism. "Some demand what?" A female voice interrupted their session, modulated through a mask that made it sound almost robotic. Her voice had a monotone, a kind of plainness to it, and yet, it was utterly terrifying. Mist. Mist, the de-facto leader of Chimera. Mist, who was Mistress Columbia's boss. Mist, the woman who was an enigma, unknowable, uncontrollable, and unstoppable. Mist, the woman who nobody knew, yet everybody knew. She just traipsed through the front door, and saw me getting fingered by Columbia, in a pair of pissed in jeans. My face turned pink with shame, but the intruder didn't seem to have any shame of her own. Mist wore a full body suit, a compound of rubber, latex, and elastic. The shiny, sleek black fabric covered her entire body, and she wore a helmet on her head which concealed her face. The tightness of her suit seemed fetish-like, but that didn't matter- the suit never, ever came off. "You're late, Jacosta," The woman scolded her subordinate- imagine that! The brilliant, dangerous, beautiful Columbia Jacosta-- a subordinate! "I can see why. Tardiness, however, is inexcusable." I felt an urge to reply, to stick up for my Mistress, but Mommy stopped me by clamping a hand over my mouth. It was quite a strange sensation, being in the direct presence of this kind of power- mainly because Mist was much shorter than I expected. She didn't even make it up to my chest in height, and yet, she was one of the most dangerous, most feared malcontents in the known galaxy. "I was going to be on my way. I swear, after I was done here-" The blonde woman protested. Though Mist wore a full helmet, and I couldn't see her eyes, I couldn't help but feel like she was analyzing every inch of me, and finding me wanting. ******************MESSY BELOW************************* "Mess," Mist commanded, before my Mistress Columbia could finish her explanation. The events which followed were, at that point, the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my life. Columbia had dressed me in these tight jeans and a halter top, but she herself had dressed rather snappily. A tan skirt that hugged her legs, white stockings, platform shoes, a button up suit jacket, the same color tan. Her golden hair had been done up into a messy, wavy ponytail. Her look seemed a mixture of casual and professional, and she looked very confident wearing it. It was, therefore, incredible to watch her ruin it. Sweat beaded on Mistress's brow. Her knees quivered, bent uncontrollably. "N--no... No, please--" She begged, but the spell had already been cast on her. She trembled, attempting to resist. I watched her clench and unclench her hands into fists, watched her toes curl in her shoes. "N-no... no! A- ahh... ahh!!" Mistress cried out in despair, huffing, sweating, trembling- but she could not disobey. I watched a glistening, dark wet patch blossom across her butt in that tight little skirt. I watched pee streams run down between her legs, pouring off her skirt like little waterfalls. I watched her face turn pink, her fists ball up, her knees bend. I watched her wet herself, but that was only the start. She completely urinated in her skirt, pee streams dripping straight down, off her bottom. "No! Nooo!!" She cried out pitifully, her knees quaking. A little tent poked out in her skirt, on her bottom- the tent grew bigger, more defined. Then, all at once, the little tent bulged out and made a big, dirty lump in her skirt, with a shameful FFFLAAARPTTT!! sound. Blood rushed to my labia as I became aroused. I simply couldn't help it- the woman I idolized, the woman I loved, helplessly and completely wetting and soiling herself right before my eyes. Columbia's legs quavered a little more, before she bowed down and fell onto her knees. Her mouth hung open in shock, her eyes glazed over with despair. Mist strode over to her, her boots clicking and clacking on the floor as she approached, latex-clad glove reaching out to pet the devastated woman's hair. "How embarrassing," She scolded the scientist, patting her a few times on the cheek. "To do such a thing in front of your newest toy. Stop pretending, would you? You love this." A tremor ran through the girl, her cheeks tinging pink, and she looked away. She couldn't face me, not after that. I was still in shock, at this point. I hadn't realized just what I was contending with. Even if watching Mistress Columbia pee and poop her skirt got me hornier than I'd ever been- and I admit, at this point, I was a pee girl only- There was still this unnerving tension, when I looked at the masked woman. I felt the fear of death, I felt the helplessness of submission. That was when I gingerly reached back, felt my own bottom, and realized that I had also pooped in my pants. The command hadn't even been directed at me! "I- I'm-- I'm sorry--" I stammered out, but my voice caught in my throat. My breath caught in my throat, as well. I realized that I was unable to breathe. I watched as the masked woman came towards me, her hand out, and realized much too late the dangerous truth that I ought to have known from the start-- PSION. My feet left the ground, with a flick of Mist's fingers. I quivered, I peed. There wasn't much left in my bladder, but I wet myself in fear all the same. This was a sort of helplessness I was not prepared for- I desired to submit to Mistress Columbia, it aroused me- but submission to Mist was an inevitability, a necessity if I wished to keep my life. This was the secret that none lived to tell. This was the truth behind her mysterious powers, her charisma, her ability to command. Psion! She was a Psion! And I? I was a victim. I floated down, onto the floor. My body moved the way she willed it to, and my fear kept me from moving at all. I was her rag doll. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, as I was lowered onto my butt. I winced, as I felt the mess in my pants mush all over my butt. It felt disgusting. Something like this had never happened to me before, and I hated that it sexually aroused me. I winced and whimpered as I was bounced up and down, slid back and forth. "What a dirty girl you are," Mist said to me. Her words had no emotion, no personality behind them- I got the impression that she simply didn't care. "I- I--" I stammered, terrified and horny. "I'm... a dirty girl." I liked saying that. At least, I convinced myself that I enjoyed saying that. She flicked her fingers out, and I was slammed back, onto the floor. I laid on my back like that, squirming and whining. My pants were soaking wet, cold and clammy. There was a filthy mess all over my ass. I was more turned on than I ever had been in my life. Mist approached me, straddled me. She put her heel against my groin, and started to grind it against my pussy. I made little whimpers of pleasure, and humped the deadly woman's heel. "A harlot, I see," Mist insulted me. "A degenerate. Very well. I know just what to do with degenerates like you." She stepped further up, still straddling my body. Looking straight up, I could see between her legs. It was like a junction of obsidian. Her fingers weaved into a little flap that ran up her belly from her crotch, and she pulled a zipper up, exposing herself. Violet? I could have sworn I saw violet skin. It made no sense to me, so I blocked it out. Even though there was this violet cunt peeking out at me between the zipper teeth, it couldn't have been. Psions were humans. They were always human! There was no such thing as an alien Psion. There was, however, a cunt right above me. There was also a hand in my piss soaked jeans- my hand. She parted her labia with two fingers, exposed her urethra, and started to pee on me. I writhed, moaned, and masturbated. The most powerful woman in the entire galaxy- at least, as far as I knew- was using me as a toilet. I was honored, and very, very turned on. The arc of her pee stream began to fall, her urination began to taper off. Mist squatted down, right over my face, urine dripping steadily off her cunt as she finished. "Good girl," She said to me. She gave me that same condescending cheek pat that she had given to Mistress Columbia, and then reached down and zipped her suit back up. "M-Miss--" I stammered out, but it wasn't necessary. Even without saying it, she knew what I wanted, what I needed. Her latex clad hand dove right into my pee soaked pants, and she began to rub and finger me. She did it with near medical precision, two fingers pumping in and out of my piss and cum drenched pussy, her thumb flicking and rubbing against my clitoral hood. I orgasmed in roughly five minutes. "My, you've found an obedient one," the black clad woman mentioned to my Mistress. After I came, she put her fingers in my mouth, and I quite willingly sucked my own ejaculate off them. "Shameless, as well. I understand now, why you were late. Unfortunately, I cannot allow this to happen again." A strand of saliva stuck to Mist's fingers as they popped out of my mouth, and she looked back to Mistress Columbia, who was still blushing and squirming. I didn't realize it at the time, but Mistress pottying in her skirt and not being pleasured immediately after was driving her mad. "You are coming with me." She hoisted my Mistress to her feet, starting to guide her towards my apartment front door, which the bronze haired woman fought against. "N- no! I can't go out there! I have to clean up!" She complained, and Mist sharply struck her on the bottom as punishment. "You will go where I command you to go. You are going to march with me to your bedroom. Everyone is going to see that you wet and soiled yourself." Dragging the reluctant scientist towards the door, the helmeted woman turned back to look at me, tilting her head with curiosity. "And you... are going to forget," She said with a wave of her fingers. "Forget what?" I asked, but to no avail- there was no way to figure out what I had forgotten, forever. While they were on Planet Medicorp, my new Mistress, and HER Mistress, visited me a number of times. I had many, many orgasms. All in all, it was a mostly positive experience. The only issue I had come to face was the strange water bowl chair, that had it's own room. Why did it have its own room? It didn't make sense! I did enjoy looking at the strange room, however. There was a perverse enjoyment, standing in that room when I wet myself. I also have been finding myself doing much more laundry lately, but I suppose that makes sense. I pee my pants every day, after all. Sometimes I get the feeling that there's supposed to be something that I can use for that... but it's easy to dismiss such a thought. If I'm not supposed to piss my pants, why does it feel so good?
  5. I'm glad you approve! The program I use to create those models is called "Magic Poser". It's a phone app, but I mostly use the web version. It wasn't very difficult, but it took me about two hours to put all that together. I also have a lot of experience with the program, as I use it for creating reference material for art commissions. I also use MS paint for the text / sfx, and to clean up the shots a little. It's a bit of a clunky process, as there's no way to export images, so I have to just take screenshots- hence using MS paint to crop. Anyway, as I said, I'm glad you liked my contribution, and would love to see it some day!
  6. Hello there, big fan of your work! I'm not one to mince words, so I'll get right into it. I hope you don't find this presumptuous. Actually, what I hope, is that you find it arousing. GOOD MORNING KIMBERLY. YOU MAY BE WONDERING WHERE YOU ARE, AND WHAT IS HAPPENING. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER THIS, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN UNDER DEEP HYPNOSIS FOR SEVERAL HOURS. YOU HAVE ONLY JUST AWOKEN FROM YOUR HYPNOTIC SPELL. DURING THAT TIME, YOU HAVE HAD PHRASES IMPLANTED INTO YOUR MIND, THAT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL CERTAIN THINGS, OR PERFORM CERTAIN ACTIONS. WE ARE GOING TO TEST THE EFFACACY OF THESE PHRASES TODAY. EVERYBODY WILL BE WATCHING YOUR PERFORMANCE. EVERYBODY WILL SEE WHAT A GOOD AND OBEDIENT GIRL YOU ARE, FOLLOWING YOUR ORDERS AND COMMANDS. EVEN THOUGH THIS MAY BE VERY EMBARRASSING FOR YOU, YOU MUST COMPLETE THE PROGRAM. YOU DO NOT REALIZE IT, BUT YOUR BLADDER IS VERY FULL. HOWEVER, YOU CANNOT FEEL IT, BECAUSE I HAVE NOT PERMITTED YOU TO DO SO. YOU MAY ALSO BE FEELING VERY CONFIDENT IN YOURSELF. THIS FEELING IS LINKED TO THE FIRST OF THE PHRASES WE WILL BE TESTING TODAY. "SHOW OFF". YOU WANT EVERYBODY TO LOOK AT YOUR BIG, ROUND BUTT, KIMBERLY. YOU ARE VERY PROUD OF YOUR BOTTOM, AND YOU WANT EVERYBODY TO SEE. SHOW US WHAT A NICE BOTTOM YOU HAVE, KIMBERLY. VERY GOOD. YOU ARE A GOOD GIRL. YOU HAVE A VERY ATTRACTIVE BUTT, AND EVERYBODY IS LOOKING AT IT. YOU WANT EVERYBODY TO SEE WHAT A BIG, ROUND BOTTOM YOU HAVE. YOU ARE DOING VERY WELL. THE TEST OF THE FIRST PHRASE HAS BEEN SUCCESSFUL. WE WILL NOW TEST THE SECOND PHRASE. "DESPERATE". YOU WILL NOW REALIZE HOW VERY BADLY YOU NEED TO URINATE. YOUR BLADDER IS VERY, VERY FULL. YOU WANT TO GO TO THE BATHROOM VERY BADLY. THAT'S RIGHT, KIMBERLY. YOU NEED TO PEE. YOU NEED TO PEE RIGHT NOW. YOU CANNOT HELP BUT TO SQUIRM AND WRITHE WITH DESPERATION. YOU NEED TO URINATE SO BADLY, KIMBERLY, THAT YOU ARE GOING TO WET YOURSELF. YOU CANNOT MAKE IT TO THE BATHROOM. YOU NEED TO PEE SO BADLY, THAT YOU ARE GOING TO PEE IN YOUR PANTS. HOWEVER, KIMBERLY, I HAVE NOT GIVEN YOU THE COMMAND THAT WILL ALLOW YOU TO BEGIN URINATING. EVEN THOUGH YOU NEED TO PEE SO BADLY RIGHT NOW THAT YOU ARE WILLING TO PEE IN YOUR PANTS, YOU CANNOT PEE. I HAVE NOT GIVEN YOU PERMISSION. NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY, YOU CANNOT PEE. YOU ARE A GOOD GIRL, KIMBERLY. YOU ARE DOING VERY WELL AT FOLLOWING ORDERS. EVERYONE IS VERY AMUSED AT WHAT A GOOD, OBEDIENT GIRL YOU ARE. NOW WE WILL TEST THE NEXT PHRASE. "ASSUME THE POSITION". VERY GOOD, KIMBERLY. YOU ARE A GOOD, OBEDIENT GIRL. NOW THAT YOU ARE IN POSITION, WE WILL TEST THE FINAL COMMAND. "WET YOURSELF". "WET YOURSELF". "WET YOURSELF". START TO WET YOUR PANTS, KIMBERLY. YOU CANNOT HOLD IT ANYMORE. YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER YOUR BLADDER ANYMORE. JUST LET GO. JUST GIVE UP AND URINATE. URINATE IN YOUR PANTS, KIMBERLY. "WET YOURSELF". "WET YOURSELF". "WET YOURSELF". GOOD JOB, KIMBERLY. YOU ARE A GOOD GIRL WHO FOLLOWS ORDERS. EMPTY YOUR BLADDER INTO YOUR PANTS, KIMBERLY. FEEL YOUR JEANS BECOME HOT AND SOAKING WET WITH YOUR URINE. LOSE ALL CONTROL, AND HELPLESSLY PEE YOUR PANTS. COMPLETELY WET YOUR PANTS FOR ALL OF US TO SEE. THAT'S A GOOD GIRL. YOU HAVE WET YOURSELF IN FRONT OF A FULL AUDIENCE. YOU SHOULD FEEL HUMILIATED, BUT YOU DO NOT. YOU ARE A VERY NAUGHTY, DIRTY GIRL. NOW WE WILL RE-TEST A COMMAND. "SHOW OFF". GOOD JOB, KIMBERLY. SHOW OFF HOW WET YOUR PANTS ARE TO EVERYONE. YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEE WHAT A WET GIRL YOU ARE. YOU WET YOUR PANTS IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY, AND YOU ARE NOT EVEN ASHAMED OF IT. I AM GOING TO COUNT TO 10. WHEN I REACH 10, YOU WILL AWAKEN FROM YOUR TRANCE AND REALIZE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. YOU WILL HAVE FREE WILL FROM THIS POINT ON. THE HUMILIATION OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE WILL FULLY REGISTER WITH YOU. HOWEVER, FROM THIS DAY FORTH, IT WILL BECOME MORE AND MORE DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO HOLD YOUR PEE. EVENTUALLY, YOU WILL WET YOUR PANTS EVERY DAY. NOW I WILL BEGIN COUNTING. 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... WAKE UP, KIMBERLY. YOU HAVE WET YOURSELF. YOU NEED TO CLEAN UP.
  7. There was one video on the 'hub not too long ago, the woman in the video was essentially confessing to her boyfriend (you, the POV) that she liked to wet herself, and then proceeded to do so. That was probably my favorite one in a long time, but thanks to the purge, it is lost to the ages as far as I know.
  8. I'm glad you liked it! I suppose if you're just keeping it for yourself thats alright
  9. I ask myself that question every other day... I work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week now, so I rarely have time to write. But I DO still want to add to this.
  10. You very much have! That must have been such an experience, I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I wouldn't wish something like that on anybody. But I will admit, it is experiences like that which I have been the most curious about. What you've explained to me helps me to finally fully understand how it is. I hope that sharing your insight felt cathartic for you.
  11. I actually quite like how when my body flushes vitamins my pee is super yellow, very hot for diapers
  12. Oh man, this is quite an old post, I had nearly completely forgotten about it. @tanin Thank you for the in-depth description, that will be very helpful with future literature (If I ever get back to it). I am one of those people who feel considerable pain and honestly even when I'm super desperate I 'lock up' if it gets to be too bad. But TODAY, this morning, I came as close to a genuine loss of control over my bladder as I ever had. I take a huge regiment of vitamins every morning cus I work like 10-12 hours and it gets me through the day. I always end up "flushing" them out of my body, and apparently they can really irritate and weaken your bladder. I was working so I absolutely could not go and was completely piss yourself desperate for like 1.5 hours. I kept feeling these hot flashes through my body, sweat on the back of my neck, I kept getting light headed, I swore several times that I had started to pee but each time I checked, I was dry- when I managed to finally stand up and take the long quarter mile walk to the toilet it felt like there was a boulder in my bladder, every step was agony, and I had to flex my muscles super hard to keep myself from peeing as I walked. I did make it, in the end.
  13. Does anyone know where I can get diapers that'll ship to a P.O. Box? I've been looking up Abenas and such and they all only ship directly to an address. I spend a lot of time away from home and I absolutely don't want my roommates getting nosy and opening up this box. I'll have the house to myself for a week come Christmas and I don't want to use a toilet once that entire time, if you get what I mean.
  14. I got the first two of a series of comics I'm commissioning from Jailer Eckman. Poor guy. Every time he finishes one I ask for another. I also have a bunch of messing ones too. The star trek characters are by Scatina and Liara is by MCGwind. Anyone know anybody taking wetting commissions right now? I've already got a few going, but like... I CRAVE MORE
  15. Shamefully I must admit the rare times I ever do indulge in such a thing, I typically use a mixture of water and hard liquor. You know, I like to drink... it kind of makes it more fun, and easier to go / harder to hold.
  16. You know, I'm not gonna lie, I would be okay with any of these scenarios so long as it meant I had a partner who wanted to do peeing stuff together! Haha! Ha... ha...
  17. Curious as to how the people on this site feel about IRL relationships / sexual encounters involving Omorashi and accidents. Whats your ideal situation?
  18. HAPPY THANKSGIVING Y'ALL It is FIVE IN THE MORNING of thanksgiving day and I am still awake baking pies for tomorrow (today) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
  19. @CrayonJunkie That must have been quite the embarrassing experience! I somewhat like horror movies and I love most horror games, but I can respect having a preference against it. I've always wanted to see if I could artifically induce an accident with something like a VR headset horror game. @CarmenCD I completely understand that it must be frustrating. Just like you said, to some it may seem arousing but for others its an unfortunate and irritating reality. I hope that you don't need to deal with anything like that taxi incident again.
  20. @liesjeversteven I am curious about the feeling of any loss of control due to fear, terror, or surprise, and how it might differ from losing control any other way, like holding it too long or being tickled. It isn't whether or not it 'counts', but rather if you believe the feeling was different from a more traditional loss of control. @Big dog, what was it that made you lose control there? Fear of crowds or public speaking perhaps?
  21. Now that I think about it, I have been in a situation where an accident may have been warranted, but as it so happens I had already been using the bathroom. It was in high school and I was already late for class and I had to go so I just decided to use the restroom and get chewed out for being late. Apparently, someone had falsely called the police and said a student was going to kill themselves with a bomb in the restroom, so after I was finished the door was kicked open and two SWAT guys were aiming assault rifles at me. I remember I wasn't scared at all- Probably because I was 100% confident that SWAT team members wouldn't just shoot a teenager on the toilet for no reason. I can't say if I would have had an accident since I had already gone. Teachers and other students were visibly concerned for me upon hearing about it, but for some reason I found it incredibly amusing that there had been such an overwhelming response to me being late to class.
  22. I think I'd probably wet myself too if I thought I had accidentally killed someone
  23. Interesting, thank you for sharing. What do you think caused it? Were you afraid that the motorcyclist might have gotten killed or seriously injured and that it would be your fault, and the anxiety from that caused the accident? Or maybe the thought that you could have gotten hit? @scinosensation I appreciate that, I'm glad I didn't offend @mystic dreamer That is quite the story. I would be terribly upset if I were her, that sounds like a very traumatic experience, but at least she made an interesting discovery out of it. Thanks for sharing
  24. @scinosensation Of course, I understand- I apologize if I asked an insensitive question to sate my curiosity. I appreciate you going into detail to describe the differences- It's somewhat more difficult for me to comprehend the differences because I've never had a true accident, though I've come close a few times. I sort of know the feeling of being helpless to stop it, though I can't really say it was a true accident because I could have made it. It was one day when I was coming home from work and I felt desperately urgent, but I managed to change out of my nice work clothes and into designated "accident clothes" and then just give up control- I kept feeling these desperate stomach churning pulses. When I did give up it just unstoppably rushed out of me and I *exploded* into my pants in less than a second, it was like a grapefruit sized bulge- honestly it felt incredible to do that and be full force urinating in my pants simultaneously. Thats the closest "genuine" experience I ever had.
×
×
  • Create New...