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Rain_Attica

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  1. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Sashabear in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  2. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Asuna.bed.wet. in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  3. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Asuna.bed.wet. in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  4. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from DsGSilver in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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!
     
  5. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Concensus in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  6. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from DsGSilver in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  7. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Sashabear in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  8. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Concensus in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  9. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from blooper in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  10. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from blooper in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  11. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Avon in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  12. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Avon in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  13. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from ics142857 in The Diapering of the Shrew   
    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.
  14. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from ics142857 in I wet myself for Mistress Columbia   
    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?
  15. love
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from BryanOMO in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  16. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from derpytoast in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  17. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Sashabear in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  18. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from FromIncognitoMode in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  19. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from bangboom in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  20. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from bangboom in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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! 
  21. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from KimAustad in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  22. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from Hornett in Seeking Omorashi Hypnosis Scripts/Ideas for New Videos!   
    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.
  23. crying
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from wilbob76 in Request: Verbal Videos "I'm peeing" "I Couldn't hold it"   
    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.
  24. love
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from rastamann104 in Post Your Commissions Here :)   
    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
  25. Upvote
    Rain_Attica got a reaction from pogbernard in "Suramar Night" and other horrible, shameless stories   
    Inspiration has struck me, so I'm gonna do another chapter. I dunno how long it'll be right now, we'll just see where it goes! 
    The following story will contain wetting, messing, S&M bondage, sexual themes, and outright sex. And maybe some other mushy stuff.

     
     
    Her
    (Chapter 1.2)
     
    "Ah.. ahh... ah! Ohh! Mmmmnnnnh, please, oh please, oh don't stop, ooohhh!" A sharp smack resounded through the bedroom and I squealed with pleasure, my bottom stinging furiously from the firm spank Mistress gave me. "You don't tell me what to do!" She hissed sternly at me, reaching down and grabbing my hips. She squeezed them tightly, pulled me back onto her strap-on, filling and stretching me. I was getting absolutely railed on the bed, this morning. The acrid smell of urine filled my nostrils as my face rubbed against the wet spot on the bed I was being fucked in. Mistress leaned over me and grabbed the back of my head, pushing and rubbing my face around in it. "Do you like that? Hmm? How does your own piss smell, slave?" She taunted me, as her hips rhythmically bucked back and forth, firmly pounding into me. I was orgasming for the second time already- whimpering and moaning while cum streaked down the inside of my thighs. My thighs trembled, my toes curled tightly. I gripped the bedsheets with both of my hands, burying my face in the mattress, despite the fact I was face-first in my own bedwetting accident. 

    It had happened again that morning. It had been starting to happen more often, without the help of drugs. I was in my own bed, this time. I stirred half-awake as I felt the familiar sensation of warm wetness pooling under my bottom. As I fully awakened, I realized what was happening, and the stream tapered off to a stop. But that didn't matter, because the bed was already quite wet. I lifted the sheets to look down at myself, seeing the puddle I had made, seeing my inner thighs wet with pee. "Ah... I wet the bed again..." I murmured to myself. "I... I'm a bedwetter. A naughty little bedwetter." Still, I was obsessed with the act, even though accidents had happened over and over again, now that I was Mistress's slave. Still I was obsessed with saying the words out loud- it made me feel light in the head, woozy almost, and it made me tingle between the thighs. 

    I started to wet again. I held the sheets up so I could watch, watch as my pee stream arced into the sheets between my legs. I spread my legs apart and pulled my labia up, watching rapt with attention as I saw my stream arc higher and higher, and then start hitting the top sheet. I peed against the top sheet for awhile, watching as the pee soaked across it, sprayed everywhere in the bed, rained down over my lap and lower belly... I dropped the sheet and relaxed my legs, fully releasing my bladder, and let the warm, wet sensation wash over me. A sense of relief flooded through me as my bladder emptied itself into the bed. A shaky breath of release came from me, as the last few drops came out. I slid my hand down my abdomen, and began to touch myself. 

    "And just what do you think you're doing?" I heard from the dark corner of my room, and I whimpered with fear, eyes darting back up. I hadn't seen her at all- it was as if she wasn't even there. She had blended seamlessly into the darkness- Mistress. Her gorgeous pink-maroon hair reflected in the bare amount of sunlight trickling through my bedroom curtains- Like me, she was naked from head to toe. "I- I'm-" I started to stammer, but her elegant long legs strode across the room in a couple of steps and she reached down, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from my pussylips. "Don't even fucking bother, I saw everything. Who gave you permission to touch yourself?" She tilted her head and narrowed her glowing white eyes at me, getting right in my face. I whimpered, and my lower lip quivered, knowing I was in trouble. "Ugh, seriously? You pissed the bed and now you're fucking masturbating? You are such a disgusting, filthy, perverted little rat." 
    "Guess I'm going to have to teach you a lesson," Mistress growled sternly at me, ripping the bedsheets off of me. I squealed in dismay as I was swiftly put across her lap, and delivered a painful, harsh lesson with her palm on my bottom. Just like every spanking I got, I squirmed, I whimpered, I cried, and I peed more. One thing lead to another, and I suddenly found myself in this situation. 
    Getting forcefully, deeply, mercilessly fucked in my own pee puddle. She smacked my already red bottom again, just to hear me cry. "That's right, whimper. Beg. You nasty little whore, I want to hear you suffer!" Mistress laughed at me, mocked me, and all I could do was whimper and curl my toes and cum. I was in heaven- this was where I belonged, I knew this now. All the things I had done in my life, I deserved nothing more than to be her plaything. I deserved the harshest punishments- I deserved to be her little toilet slave. 
    I slumped forward, energy spent, shuddering as my climax began to subside. Mistress pushed me forward, shoving me off of the toy and onto the bed, to simply lie there on my side, cum dripping down the back of my thigh. She undid the buckle on her strap-on and brought it to her lips, blessing me with the sight of her tasting my cum. "Not too bad. Your new diet is working out for you, I think," she murmured as she reached down and pushed it into my mouth, twisting it around and forcing me to lick and suck it clean of my own juices, which I did happily. She pulled it out of my mouth with a wet little plop, a tendril of drool connecting it to my lower lip. In my light-headed, blissful, post-fucking state, I looked up to her with half-lidded eyes, and murmured, "I love you." 

    This was a mistake. 
    Mistresses eyes first widened with surprise, and then narrowed with irritation. "What did you just fucking say?" She asked me with a sneer of disgust on her face. I hadn't even really quite realized it myself, but when I did, my eyes opened back up and my face glowed bright red with a blush. "I- It was an accid-" I didn't manage to get the words out of my mouth before I was eating heel, Mistress stepping right on my face, pushing my head into the wet mattress. "Don't you ever say something like that to me again! Ever! There is no room for love in this relationship, do you understand? You are my plaything, and I am your punishment! Love? Hah! This is nothing more than revenge, you worthless little shit." 

    I could hardly breathe with my face being stomped in like this. I kicked my feet, I struggled and tried to break free, but she was too strong. "Mmfh- mmfhhmmm!" I tried to speak, voice muffled by her long elven foot, that I understood. "Don't... you dare... think that I have forgotten what kind of debt you owe me. What you've done. You had best pray you are able to keep me entertained, because once I grow bored of you, I'm going to kill you. Bitch." With that, she spat on me, and turned to walk away- but then she stopped, deciding that wasn't quite good enough. 

    She came back and stomped her foot on the mattress next to my head, reaching down and grabbing my thick, wavy black hair. "Nnghh!" I cried out in pain, reaching up to try and hold my head. It felt as if she were going to rip my hair right off my head. She shimmied her hips, getting into position, and before I knew it, a hot, wet stream of urine was hitting me in the face. I gasped and sputtered, eyes screwed shut as she urinated on me. "You are nothing more than my toilet whore. Don't you ever forget it, shit-pants. Ahhh.... that feels SO much better. How does it taste, hmm? Aren't you so happy that Mistress is gracing you with her piss?" 
    The sad thing is, I was. Even though it hurt, even though my love had been spurned and I was ashamed, I was happy. It was quite rare for Mistress to ever relieve herself on me. The mortifying shame, the degradation of being used as a toilet- I was starting to enjoy these emotions... starting to become sexually aroused by them. 
    Mistresses pee stream started to drop down, arcing onto my breasts instead of my face, gradually going down to a trickle that ran down the inside of her own muscled thigh. This didn't seem to bother her, oddly enough. "You're fucking banned from the toilet today, slave. Get dressed. No washing yourself either, you're going to stink of pee all day." She stormed back toward my bedroom door, ripping it open. "STAY in your room, until I say you can come out!" Mistress roared at me, as she violently slammed the door behind her. I flinched- Mistress rarely got this angry. She was angry all the time, yes, but she never took it out on me quite like this. I wondered what, exactly, I had done. 
    No, I knew what I had done, but... why did it make her so mad?
     
    Awhile later, I had gotten dressed- since apparently I was banned from using the bathroom until Mistress allowed it, I decided to wear one of my older, more... 'yellow' stained cotton panties, and one of my special pairs of white pants Mistress got for me. I used an old shirt to dry the pee out of my hair the best that I could, but even if I sprayed a little perfume on it, the smell of urine hung on me. I was quickly growing used to it anyway- so, with a sigh, I opened up my closet to try and pick out a shirt to wear. Then I heard a pounding on the door. 

    I shyly slinked over to it and opened it just a crack, only to see that nobody was there- and then I heard another pounding. It was coming from the front door. We had a guest, but... Mistress said I was to stay in my room, so, I couldn't go answer the door. I glanced up and down the hallway, wondering if I should do it anyway- it might have been a customer, and we needed the money. I crept out of my room and down the hall, carefully looking out for Mistress, when I suddenly saw her cross the living room, so I ducked behind a basket of laundry. She didn't see me, but I could still see the look of irritation on her face. 

    "What do you want?" I heard her say from around the corner. I couldn't see who it was- they said something to her, it must have been a woman. They were too far away for me to make out their voice, so I scooted the laundry basket down the hall to see if I could get a little closer. 

    "...ara. That is you, right?" I heard her say. "Yes, speaking, what the hell do you want? I don't recall doing anything to warrant a visit from the sentinels." I gasped and held my hand over my mouth, backing firmly against the wall into my hiding spot. We were in foreign territory- at least, foreign territory for ME. I was more than just a foreigner, I was a member of a hostile species. If they stormed the place and came in here, they'd be fully within their rights to kill me on sight. I tried to still my breathing, as I perked up my long pointy ears to try to get a better listen. 

    "No, you haven't, this is an unofficial visit- I was sent by General Feyla. Your term of service has come to an end, but... the war against the Forsaken is endless. They fashion their reinforcements from our dead. You've seen the horrors they've committed-" "Yes, firsthand, on Darkshore. Is that what this is about? I've only just gotten out and you're trying to pull me back in?" "With all due respect..." 

    I flinched as I heard a loud crashing noise- presumably Mistress trying to slam the door, in her anger. "You can shove your fucking respect. I'm done out there, do you hear me? Unless you have an official summons, the next time you set foot on my property, I'll shoot you for tresspassing. Get. Out." "Ma'am, I don't understand, you were one of our best rangers- Don't you take pause at what's happening over there? Those arsonists dare to continue to tread earth and you-" "You don't think I hate them just as much as you do? As any of us do? I was THERE that day, you know. I saw it all happen. I saw those I cared for die, and I'm tired of it. I'm retired. I have a happy life here, and you or Feyla or even the fucking Night Warrior herself won't take that away from-" "Oh yes, we're quite aware of the happy life you've got for yourself right here. You know, it's a little suspicious even- you sure you aren't keeping anything... illegal here, are you? We wouldn't want to have to come back-" 

    Suddenly, I heard the deafening crack of one of our rifles going off, and I winced and clapped both of my hands over my ears, scooting back firmly against the wall. I felt a warmth spread across my butt, and realized that I was scared into wetting my pants again. My bladder wasn't very full, so the wetness barely soaked my butt and made a little wet patch on the carpet, but it was enough for me to be shocked at how easily I lost bladder control. I've always been a measly little coward, but just hearing a gunshot?
    I dry-swallowed, frowning at my situation, and went to go crawl back into my bedroom. "GET OFF MY PROPERTY, AND DON'T COME BACK WITHOUT AN OFFICIAL SUMMONS OR A WARRANT!" I heard Mistress howling, along with the sound of boots and armor shuffling and moving quickly away from the door. I crawled back into my room, pulling the door shut behind me. I crawled under the bed, dragging the top bedsheet with me, not caring that it was still wet with my pee, and wrapped myself in it- hiding and trembling under my bed. Mistress was so angry today... I thought today might be the day she... sent me off. 

    It was totally silent in the house. I listened to the clock ticking on the wall, tick, tock, back and forth. My butt felt wet and clammy, and I wanted to change, but I knew that I'd probably be yelled at. So I curled up under my pissy sheets, under the bed, and waited, shivering and staring into the dimness of the room. It felt like an eternity to me, but only about five minutes went by, before I heard footsteps falling in the hallway outside my room, and the door creak open. "Oh slave, It's time for- Slave? Where did you go?" She stepped further into the room. I could see her ankle trembling before she stamped her foot on the floor. "Fucks sake, I TOLD you not to leave your ROOM!" She yelled, and a whimper escaped me. 

    She must have heard, because Mistress knelt down, and I saw her glowing white eyes peek under the bed. "There you are. What on earth are you doing under there?" She said to me condescendingly, and reached in to grab the bedsheets I was wrapped up in and drag me out. I squealed and kicked, not wanting to leave my safe hiding place, but I couldn't resist Mistress, and she grabbed me by the wrist and hoisted me to my feet. I trembled and looked at my feet, twiddling my hands fingers together in front of my chest. "I- I... h-heard a shot," I murmured, looking hopefully up at my goddess. Her lips were pursed in thought, and she looked down at me in judgement, before reaching up and running her hand through my hair. "And you were scared, hm?" She took my shoulder and spun me around, glancing down and clucking her tongue. "Mmhm, I see. Scared enough to wet yourself. Only just dressed, and you're already having accidents? Tsk, tsk." She reached down and patted my bottom, rubbing her hand over the wet patch. She gave my ass a squeeze, and turned me back around. 
    I was expecting punishment, but instead, she held both of my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. "Such a dumb little pantswetting baby," She cooed to me, and I flushed and glanced away, too shy to look her directly in the eye. "Come on now. It's time for breakfast." 

    She lead my by the hand into the kitchen, and sat me down at the table, the same spot where I always sat and had my breakfast. There was a bowl of porridge on the table on the other side, where she normally sits, but nothing for me. "U-um... where's...?" I started to ask, looking expectantly up at my Mistress, my caretaker. "Where's yours? I have it right here," She said. Mistress took her chair and scooted it around the table, sitting it in front of me so that she could sit down, within arms reach, giving my bowl a little stir. "If you're going to wet your bed and poop your pants like a little baby, I'm going to treat you like one. Now, here comes Mama Raven, swooping down into her nest! Fwoooosh!" She even did the sound effects, zooming the spoon around and pushing it into my face. 

    I was horrifyingly embarrassed- I hadn't been treated like this before. I was a good slave, though, so I opened my mouth and let her feed me. It was humiliating... and my wet butt felt even more cold and clammy now that I was sitting on it. I squirmed awkwardly in my chair, and Mistress looked down at me with that wonderful expression- that amused, toothy smirk, looking down at me like I was garbage, like I was scum. My heart fluttered at the sight of it. I should be happy, I thought- Mistress is taking it upon herself to hand feed me. 

    She sat the bowl down and fed me another spoonful, smiling at me and tousling my hair with her other hand as I obediently chewed and swallowed. "Good slut," She said to me, cooing affectionately. She had a strange look in her eyes, one I had seen a few times before, but couldn't quite place- I didn't know what emotion it was, but she didn't seem... unhappy. She held the spoon in the air and continued to stare at me, her expression slowly souring, turning to one of irritation. "On second thought, I don't have time for this," She spat, dropping the spoon on the table, taking me by the back of the head, and forcing my face into the porridge bowl. She laughed at me as I raised my face out of it, looking dumbly confused, food on my nose and cheeks and forehead. 
    I went to wipe my face off with my sleeve, picking up the dropped spoon dejectedly, but Mistress smacked it out of my hand. "No," She sneered at me. "Eat it like that. Like the fucking dog you are," She commanded me. A shiver of self-pity ran down my spine, as I slowly lowered my face to the bowl, and attempted to eat without using my hands, getting more porridge all over my face and in my hair. "Hah! This is amazing," She mocked me as she reached across the table for her own breakfast, to eat it like a normal, respectable person... unlike me. She pushed my face up out of the bowl, and took it, standing up and walking over to the middle of the floor, where she sat it down. "Dogs don't eat at the table." 
    Confused and embarrassed, I looked up at her, and then back down at the bowl on the floor. "Not hungry?" She asked me with that clever smirk on her face, and I slinked out of my chair, slowly getting down on the floor on my hands and knees, to finish my breakfast. As I bent down, Mistress came up behind me, grabbing me by my ear and yanking my head back. "Ah!" I cried out with pain, as she hissed into my ear. "Don't you fucking dare wet yourself today. Do you understand? And you're still banned from the toilet. You'll hold it until I give you permission to go. If I see a single wet streak down your thigh, I'm going to whip your ass so fucking raw, you won't be able to sit for a week, piss pants." This, naturally, made me gush piss into my panties in terror, an uncontrollable little spurt, which soaked my groin and just barely dribbled down my thigh. 
    "Finish your damn breakfast," She said, letting go of my head and pushing my face back towards the bowl. I finished eating like that, while she sat in her chair and used me as a footrest, crossing her legs and resting her heels on the small of my back while she ate her own bowl of porridge.
    Thankfully, she allowed me to wash my face in the sink after, while I was taking care of cleaning up the dishes. I felt her standing behind me, looking down over me, watching me work. I shivered- it was an uncomfortable feeling, having her standing over me and judging how good of a job I was doing. I started to scrub a little harder- I wanted to please Mistress, after all. "That's enough," She said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Lets get to work for the day." 

    I nodded and sat the last dish on the shelf to dry. "O-okay..." I murmured, turning and going to head into my little workshop. Mistress tugged on my ear, directing me away. "Not that kind of work, you dumb slut. What do we do when we have a bedwetting, hmm?" She berated me, starting to pull me by the ear towards my bedroom. "Ow! W- we- we clean th- the sheets," I said, blushing that I had forgotten about it. "That's right. Honestly, you've wet the bed so many times now, how do you not understand this? You'll work in the workshop when I say it's time. Today, we're cleaning." 

    We? I turned my eyes to the side to look up to Mistress. Would she be cleaning with me? Anticipation rose in my throat, I felt hot in the face, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Mistress never worked alongside me. We had our own separate workshops- she said that she didn't want my piss-reeking bottom to distract her, but I think that she mostly needed the focus, or she couldn't work. Mistress was perfect to me no matter what, but after these few months I'm starting to understand who she is, and the flaws she has. She changes her mind and her mood at the drop of a hat, and I'm sure she couldn't get anything done if I was there for her to play with. 
    I get to work. I pull the bedsheets off the bed, and bring them outside to put in the wash basin. Mistress draws water from the well, boiling a cauldron of it, and then pours it into the basin to start soaking away my urine. The water is too hot to work with, so next, it is time for the mattress. I'm far too weak to move it on my own, so she has to help me, dragging it along behind her and mocking me for my weak, noodle like arms. We take turns drawing water and pouring it over the mattress, to wash out the pee stain, and eventually tilt the mattress against the wall to dry. I spend the next hour scrubbing laundry with soap in the hot water- every time I think I am done, Mistress brings another pair of clothes, or another sheet, for me to clean. By the time I'm done, my arms are screaming with ache, and I have to sit on a bench and rest. 
    I feel the sun streaming through the trees landing on my face, warming my body. I can hear the chirping of birds, and the rustling of wind through the trees. I don't know where we live, as I am not learned in the maps of the Alliance, but I know it is somewhere nice. The air is clean, and the heat is temperate. We live alone, out in the woods. I'm used to it- I've been used to living by myself for a long time. But I don't live by myself anymore- I live with Mistress. 
    I love her. Even though I am afraid that she might snap and decide to kill me, given what I am responsible for, I still love her. I do not live in perpetual fear any longer. Nobody comes to throw rotten fruit at me, or to harass me and call me names. Mistress calls me names all day, of course, but I feel as if I deserve it. It is not a bad life, I think to myself, as I rest in the late morning sun. I am fed and protected, I sleep in a comfortable bed. I am warm and taken care of. I am protected... Mistress protects me. She's so strong... stronger than I could ever be. She wouldn't ever need something like the Black Words. Her arm and her sword, her gun is well enough. 
    As I take a break from work, so does she. I watch her, standing twenty paces from the house, down at her range. Levelling her rifle at a clay target hanging in a tree- she fires once, and the target shatters into a million pieces. I'm impressed. I've tried to shoot a gun before- we make them, after all, so I was curious as to how they worked. It's hard- very hard- they're heavy things, and aiming with them is difficult. The scopes we put on them help a great measure, but I still can't hit anything but the trees behind my target. Mistress is much more skilled than I. 
    Though I revere her for her talent, a curiosity gnaws at me. As she returns to the home with one of our hand-crafted rifles slung over her back, I ask- "Why do you use that?" And she stops, glancing down at me. Her eyes are piercing, and I feel like she wants me to explain further. "I-I mean... Why do we... why do we make these? You- you're Kaldorei, aren't you? Why do you use a gun, instead of a bow?" 
    She takes the weapon off her shoulders, looking down at it, running her fingers along it affectionately. I swallow back my jealousy, wishing she would touch me like that. "A bow is a bow," She explained. "A piece of wood with a string. Depending on the tensile strength of the string, the feathering and sleekness of the arrow, and the craftsmanship of the wood, a bow can be a powerful tool. We Kaldorei make the finest bows in Azeroth. Your people and your paltry bows are pathetic, compared to ours." I was used to insults about my species, so I grimaced and nodded, letting her continue.
    "But, a rifle is a different thing. A bow can only be made so perfect. Our bows are near perfect creations, and they grow closer to that level of perfection every new generation of craftsmen we have. But a gun... I can tell, that this weapon- this weapon has centuries of refinement ahead of it. It is far more complex. The machinery that goes into it- the factors that improve the aim, stability, and stopping power of this weapon- the potential, compared to our bows, is nearly unlimited. I know that it is only a matter of time until these weapons become the norm- until these rifles outstrip the performance of our bows by miles. This weapon, slave-" She held it up, shaking it at me, to emphasize her point. "This weapon is the future. And I have a long, long future ahead of me, after all." 
    She then put her weapon down, but not before popping it open and removing the shell inside. That was one of the things she taught me, weapon safety- to never leave a rifle loaded, anywhere. As well as other things, like not pointing it at anything you wouldn't want to accidentally shoot. Pocketing the round in it, she stepped over to where I was sitting, looking down at me with stern, scornful eyes. "You, however-" She said, stomping her foot on the bench next to me. She grabbed me by the hair, and forced my face against her groin. "Who knows when your future might end? It might be a decade, it might be tomorrow. Your very life hangs on my whim, slave," She told me, grinding her hips against my face. "Yes Mistress," I said obediently, muffled by her crotch- she let me go, stepping off the bench, and grabbed my hand. 
    She took me inside, and we had sex again, for the second time that day. 
    Later, I was busy dusting the shelves in the workshop. I hadn't thought about it all day before, but a pressing need was at the forefront of my mind. It had only been a few hours, but I needed to relieve myself, badly. Whimpering, I held my hand firmly between my legs, continuing to clean with my other hand. I shouldn't have needed to go so soon, it didn't make sense- but I felt the pressure building in my bladder, and a telling gurgling in my stomach. Still, I was resolved to hold it. Mistress had commanded me, so I would hold it. I had to!
    But, I was getting incredibly desperate. I kept having to stop my work, groaning and holding myself between the legs. I wouldn't pee, I couldn't... Mistress commanded me not to wet myself! My pants were finally dry again after all this time, I couldn't ruin them now... I had to sit the duster down and squeeze myself, doubling over at the waist, thighs clenched together and knees bent in desperation. "My oh my, does someone need the potty?" I heard a call from the entrance to the workshop- Mistress was leaning in the doorframe, watching me shamelessly hold myself like a little girl. I blushed brightly. "Y-...yes," I murmured with embarrassment, unable to meet her gaze. "Very well then," she said with a mischievous smirk. "You may use the bathroom. That is, if you can get in." 
    She followed me as I hobbled and potty-danced my way over to our home's singular bathroom. Still holding myself between the legs, I looked up in astonishment at what had become of our bathroom door. It looked like a safe, or something- it was made completely out of metal, and covered with locks and puzzles and all sorts of things. "Wh- what is this? When did you have it installed?" I asked. "When you were sleeping," Mistress said, reaching over and handing me a keyring. "Here's the keys. Best get to solving it, hmm? Remember, if you have an accident, I'm going to whip you raw." 
    I stared down at the keys in my hand, and then back at the complex lock on the door, momentarily forgetting my desperation. I understood very quickly that this was a challenge Mistress expected me to fail. It stung my pride, what little I had left of it- My mind was my last sanctuary, my bastion. I was weak, cowardly, pathetic, but I always considered myself to be clever. All these years of working with tools and gadgets- I should be able to solve something like this! A pang of desperation wracked me, and I moaned and held myself between the legs, whimpering and looking at the door. I would have to solve it- that's all there was to it. I feared the whipping I was promised, so I held on tightly, refusing to wet, and set about solving the door. 
    The first puzzle on the door was a sliding picture puzzle. Simple enough to solve, given enough time, but the amount of time I had was determined by the strength of my bladder. Holding it was becoming painful, I was so desperate. I slid the panels quickly, making more mistakes than I should have because of how badly I needed to go. As all the pictures lined up in place, I blushed with embarrassment, realizing that the completed picture was of me, quivering and wetting my pants. I remembered that incident- Mistress had taken a picture of it. I never imagined that this would be what she used it for. Next was a number puzzle- a series of switches that I needed to pick that added up to a certain total. This one was a little more complex, but not beyond me- the pressure in my bladder and the rumbling in my gut made it harder than it should have been. 
    I fumbled with the keyring I had been given, a spurt of pee escaping into my panties. I clenched my thighs tightly, willing myself to hold on. A little trickle started to flow from me, but I cut it off quickly- I could feel two hot, wet crescents form under my ass cheeks. One by one, I figured out which key went to which lock, based on their size and shape. Out of the seven keys on the ring, I used six for this part. From the look of it, there was only one more puzzle to solve- a sequence of gears. I stared befuddled at the challenge before me, not sure how it worked- turning the gears randomly, trying to see if I could figure it out based on the shape or noise that they made. 
    Eventually I realized that they all needed to be turned and locked together in a specific pattern, as the desperation to relieve myself wracked me. Mistress was watching over me the whole time, her lips pulled back into a vicious cheshire grin, glancing down at my bottom. "Tsk tsk," She chided me. "Are you leaking? It looks like you're a little wet. Didn't I tell you not to have an accident? It's as if you want me to whip you." She reached down and started to feel my bottom, grabbing and squeezing one of my asscheeks, and I whimpered and clenched my thighs together. The need to go was overwhelming, getting worse now that I knew I was so close to opening the door. 
    My stomach gurgled, and a sharp pang of desperation hit me, and I cried out, bending my knees and holding myself between the legs. I thought I was going to lose it, but instead, a noisy PRRAAAPPTT escaped me, and the blush on my cheeks grew even brighter. I uncontrollably farted. My eyes were wide and my mouth hung open, trembling as I tried to right myself. "Ah!" I cried out, and another noisy FRRRRTT! came from my backside, as I dipped my bottom down. I was utterly humiliated- I shouldn't have been, given that I wet and pooped my pants on a daily basis, but I had never farted in front of Mistress before. The stink made my eyes water, and Mistress laughed at me. "Ahahahaha! Ugh, what a nasty little whore you are! Are you about to shit yourself, huh? Passing gas like that... pee-yew, that stinks!" She mocked me by pinching her nostrils shut and waving her hand to disperse the smell. "N-no, no, I--" I stammered to try to make an excuse for myself, but I only just ended up farting again. FRRRRPPTTT!!
    My knees were quaking and knocking together, my toes curling and uncurling in my shoes, but I was still able to hold on, and focus on the challenge. I turned each gear as I thought they should fit together, shifting and moving them into place. Finally, I thought that I had it- so I inserted the final key into the lock, and tried to turn it. But, it wouldn't go. I must not have solved it correctly- I frantically looked back at the puzzle, trying to twist and alter the gears into what might be the correct configuration. My face was hot with a blush of urgency, eyes squinted and lips pursed as I held on desperately, not understanding why it didn't work. Mistress didn't make it any easier, either- her hand kept caressing my butt, squeezing and patting my asscheek. Her other hand slid up my belly, to the collar of my shirt, starting to unbutton it. Her hand went into my shirt, fingers firmly tracing across my breast, starting to squeeze and grope me, pinching my tit between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh slave, you're so close, you aren't going to fail here, are you?" 
    I couldn't stop clenching my thighs together, I was so utterly desperate. I kept trying different combinations, but no matter what I did, the key wouldn't turn. A whimper escaped me, and I frantically kept trying to turn the key, as if somehow it would unlock. My mind wasn't working anymore- I was overwhelmed by my need to relieve myself. "A-ah...!" I suddenly felt hot, wet warmth spreading across my crotch, and soaking down the back of my legs. I couldn't hold it anymore- I was wetting my pants. My thighs quaked and I tried desperately to hold on, emotions running wild inside my head. The sensation was electric- relief growing as the wet patch soaked further and further down the back of my thighs. Tingling, blissful pleasure at Mistresses touch, the way she cupped and squeezed my breast, rubbed and groped my bottom as I peed my pants. 
    I couldn't hold it in anymore, and I farted- at least, I thought it was a fart, but it wasn't. Hot, messy filth burst into my panties, a small mound in the seat of my white pants that quickly started to stain brown. I remember that I was crying at this point- I felt so ashamed, even though this had happened time and time again. I couldn't do it, I wasn't smart enough to solve the puzzle. It was like Mistress always told me, I was just a stupid, pants-wetting, incontinent slut. I realized at this point that I had never done this before- I had never held my pee until I uncontrollably wet myself. All those times where I would get too distracted with my work and not realize I had to pee, and ended up wetting myself- I had just given up, been unwilling to deal with the pain of a full bladder. I realized now that I had been wetting myself on purpose for a long time, and this was the first time I truly, truly lost control. 
    "Aww... looks like my adorable little slave is having an accident in her pants!~" Mistress taunted me, smacking me on the bottom as I peed. I soaked my pants all the way down to my socks, before I managed to regain control. I'm not sure why I was so insistent on trying to hold it, at this point- I had utterly pissed myself, a solid wet patch going all the way down the insides of my thighs and the back of my legs, a tidemark rising up my butt, a diamond of wetness across the front of my lap, still hot, wet, glistening in the afternoon sunlight. My eyes were red from crying, my mascara streaked all down my cheeks- I was a mess, a filthy, pathetic little elf who had wet her pants.
    I watched, whimpering and sniffling back tears, as Mistress reached past my shoulder, and put all the gears into place. It was the first combination that I had tried- I looked on in confusion as she reached for the key... and twisted it the other direction, counter-clockwise. That was it- that was the mistake I had made. I couldn't believe how stupid I was, swallowing back my tears as I watched Mistress push the door open. There it was, the toilet- I was standing not two paces away from it, and I had an accident. My stomach churned, and I realized that I wasn't done yet, so I rushed into the bathroom, but Mistress stopped me. 
    She snatched my wrist, forcing me to turn around, and look at her. I expected to see that scornful, amused, cruel look on her face, but she looked different for some reason. She was smiling... even her eyes smiled with her, looking at me like I was precious. I opened my mouth and stammered dumbly, not even able to form a coherent word, and she pulled me up against her body. Chest to chest, face to face, she held me against her. She tilted her head down, and she kissed me. She was kissing me... deeply, passionately, something she almost never did. Our tongues writhed together, her hand running up my back and shoulders. My knees shook again, and I suddenly started to leak, a dribble of urine that picked up into a full force pants wetting. I could feel my pee welling up in the narrow space between the gusset of my panties and the crotch of my pants, gushing down the inside of my legs. 
    There was a cold sweat on my brow, as I clenched and unclenched my asscheeks, fighting the growing urge as best as I could, my eyes squinted shut into this wonderful, blissful kiss. I put my hands on Mistress's shoulders, holding onto her like I might fall if I didn't. The moment I did that, I lost control of my bowels, and pooped my pants, with a filthy, noisy ppprrbblhhttt! It all came rushing out of me, a hot, sticky, filthy mess filling the seat of my pants. They stretched and tented to accommodate the growing load. Mistress rubbed my bottom and cupped her hand, feeling the growing mound of shit in my panties. I moaned into our kiss, legs trembling, as I full force, completely pissed and shit my pants. It was incredible- I had never felt a sensation like this, to be so incredibly desperate and then to suddenly feel this blissful relief. Hot pee spreading across my lap, hot, messy poop filling my pants- I thought I might climax then and there. 
    Mistress rubbed and patted the enormous bulge of filth in my pants. I had never pooped this much in my life- there was no way that this was natural, Mistress must have done something to me. Something in my morning porridge, maybe. Either way, the seat of my pants sagged, completely stained brown, so full of poop my waistband was pulled away from the small of my back. My pee stream tapered off as my bladder fully emptied, standing in a big yellow puddle, and I completely relieved my bowels. I was trembling, tears still leaking out of my eyes, as Mistress pulled away and looked down at me again- that expression of adoration quickly turning into her usual, condescending, amused smirk. I whimpered and shrank back, feeling small under her gaze. 
    "Look at you," she taunted me. "What did you do?" I swallowed and attempted to stop my helpless blubbering, using my sleeve to wipe at the tears running down my cheek. "I- I had an accident," I muttered ashamedly. "That's right. RIGHT in front of the toilet. Right in my arms, you had a huge accident." The fanatic obsession returned to me, as I became circularly trapped in my own head about it. "I- I wet-- I w-wet my pants... I peed... I soaked and soiled my pants... I pooped myself... used my pants as a toilet... crapped my panties..." I kept muttering to myself, not even noticing as Mistress put her hands on my shoulders, and pushed me down onto my knees. She unbuttoned her fly, pushing her pants and panties down to the floor, not seeming to care that they were getting in my pee puddle. 
    She pulled on her labia with two fingers, and started to urinate on me. She aimed her pee stream so that it arced into my lap. I could feel her hot wetness soak into my pants and drip down between my legs, flood all across my engorged, tingling pussylips. She arced her stream up and down, so that one moment she was peeing on my lap, the next she was peeing on my breasts. Mistress rolled her head back, draping her beautiful maroon hair down her shoulders. "Ahhhh... that's so much better. Mmm, I needed to use you for awhile... I think I might just have this toilet uninstalled. You can just pee and poop your pants, and I'll piss on you." 
    My eyes lit up instantly. I hadn't realized how far my depravity had fallen, that I was so excited for this. "Yes Mistress! Yes, please! Please pee on me!" I cried out, reaching up and starting to unbutton my shirt, so that she could urinate on my bare chest. "Oh, you like that, hmm? Do you love Mistress's piss?" She scoffed at me, smirking and laughing at my degeneracy. I blushed furiously, and nodded, making my own pissy bed and laying in it. "Y-yes Mistress, I love your piss," I murmured. It reeked so badly in this room, I thought I was going to choke... the smell of hot, freshly peed in pants, my shirt soaked with Mistress's pee, my pants filled to the brim with poop. I realized then that even though it stank, I enjoyed it- I enjoyed the smell of being forced to kneel in my own accident. 
    Mistress snatched me by the hair, yanking my face towards her pussy. She forced my head against her groin, and continued to urinate into my mouth. "Drink," She commanded me, just like the first day we had met. Except this time, I was all too willing to drink- I gladly lapped it up, eyes closed, scooting closer on my knees, my enormously poopy pants waddling back and forth from the action. "Oooohhh... yes... mmm, yes... lick," She commanded me, and I licked. Urine ran all over my chin and dripped down onto my chest, as I pleasured Mistress while she peed. She was peeing quite a lot... perhaps even more than I had wet myself. And she remained totally composed the whole time- it ashamed me, made me feel more pathetic, that I had totally lost bladder control and Mistress was holding more pee than me, calm and self-assured. 
    I slid my hands up the back of Mistress's thighs, to hold onto her while I orally pleasured her. Her pee stream tapered off, and in a matter of seconds, I was licking and lapping up cum instead of urine. Greedily squeezing the back of her toned, muscled thighs, while I messily swirled my tongue inside of her. Before I met Mistress, I didn't even know I was a lesbian- now, I adore every chance I get to lick her pussy. It was like a gift, a blessing that this powerful, indomitable woman would allow me to even touch her, let alone give her an orgasm, which I was very intent on. I'm proud to say that in the three months I've met Mistress, I've given her an orgasm at least four times a week. Well, I should be proud, but that's nothing compared to her- I climax multiple times a day because of her. 
    "Mmmm, yes... oh, you naughty, filthy little slut, yes, just like that... mmmnnn, look at you, kneeling in your own piss puddle, pants full of shit, you dirty, incontinent little whore..." I could tell she was getting into it. Mistress had her own sense of oral fixation- whenever she was getting close, she insulted and cursed at me more and more. My stomach suddenly churned again, and I felt that urge- I didn't even bother attempting to resist it. I popped my bottom out, and shamelessly shit my pants with a frraappphht! I couldn't believe it, it was so much- I had pooped my pants so much, it was actually forcing its way down the back of my soaking wet thighs, my waistband pulled two inches from my back. Mistress gasped and bucked her hips, gripping my hair tightly and writhing her hips against my face. "Oooohh! Oh yes! Oh you dirty bitch! Mmmnnn, yes, oh yes, oh you fucking worthless pants-messing whore! Ah, ah-- ahh!!~" 
    One messy, gushing orgasm later, Mistress was dragging me by the ear back to her room. She pulled open her drawer of punishment devices, and pulled out the locking belt- I held my hands up and out of her way as she yanked it through my belt loops and pulled it tight, locking it. The gap in my waistband was gone now, and I was locked into these bulging, soaked, shit filled pants. I would be staying in them as long as Mistress wanted- which also meant that I would be wetting my pants every time I needed to pee. Mistress tore off my shirt, leaving me topless, my pale pink breasts bouncing free. That was one thing that I had... Mistress had good breasts, but mine were a bit larger. This apparently pleased her, though, because she never missed a chance to fondle my boobs. She was doing it now, looking me over, cupping one of my breasts and patting the mound in my pants with the other. "Goddess, you really shit your pants, huh?" 
    I wanted to deny it, or say something to try and defend myself, but when I opened my mouth, the only words that came out were "I love you". Mistress glared down at me, expression quickly turned sour, and smacked me across the head. She had hurt and punished me a lot, but for some reason, that smack felt more real than the others, and I wanted to cry, whimpering and backing down. "Would you stop fucking doing that!?" She yelled at me. With a sneer of disgust, she grabbed my wrist, turned me around, and shoved me against the wall, forcing my wrists into the restraints and locking them there. This was the same wall where Mistress's draenei 'friend' had pooped herself in terror at being whipped. Which meant that for me... 
    "N- no, no please- no Mistress, please, please--" I begged her, pulling on the restraints, wetting my pants in terror, bladder having already begun to fill again. I felt the hot wetness run along my crotch and splatter on the floor, dripping off the huge mound of poop in my pants. "Shut the fuck up, you degenerate slut! What did I tell you before, hmm? That you'd get a whipping if you peed your pants! And what did you do?" I tugged harder trying to escape the restraints as a terrified sob came from me. "I wet my pants! I did! I wet myself and pooped my pants! Please Mistress, please!" I cried out in agony as I felt the first harsh smack across my back. Only... it wasn't as bad as I thought. She wasn't using her regular whip, this was a nine-tailed whip. It was painful, yes, but not nearly as painful as I expected. I kind of felt... good. 
    "Ahh!" I screamed as she whipped me again. And again, and again... the small of my back was glowing pink from the continued whipping. She paused for long enough to come up behind me, slide her hand up my stomach and grope my breast, leaning in and licking my cheek. "Does that hurt, slave? Hmm? Wetting your pants again? Gonna cry, like a little baby bitch?" She taunted me, tilting her head up and biting my ear. She didn't break the skin, but it certainly hurt, and I screwed my eyes shut and whimpered, feeling my bladder spasm and gush what little had filled it into my pants once again. Then, the whipping continued. Gradually, I became used to the tingling sensation of pain. Degraded, helpless, tortured... my hot, pissy pussy tingled with the need for attention. 
    As if reading my mind, at this point, Mistress paused her punishment and undid my locking belt, just for long enough to nestle a little egg vibrator up against my clitoris. Re-locking the belt again, she dialed it on to a low setting with the remote, and resumed whipping me. The more she whipped me, the higher the setting went- pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain- It was so much, combined with all my other emotions, I was beginning to forget which was which, and associate the two together. Mistress paused, dialing the setting up, and took my cheek, forcing my head to turn. She kissed me again- that same hungry, deep, passionate kiss from before- as my legs shook and my toes curled, I was oozing cum into my panties, practically frothing at the mouth. 
    Then, it came. I had been hoping it wouldn't, but it did. The whip- her real whip. Searing hot pain shot across my back and I screamed- literally shrieked in agony- and had an incredible, overwhelming orgasm. I was so worn out I just hung against the wall, limp, held up only by the restraints. Mistress dialed the vibrating toy down to 'off', returned her tools to the drawer and let me go, and I immediately fell- but she caught me. I was wobbly on my feet, as she helped me, step by little step over to her bed. She laid me down on it, on my side- so that I wouldn't get my poopy butt on her sheets- and laid next to me. She pulled me into her arms, cuddling me affectionately. She tilted my chin back, and kissed me. 
    We laid together like that for at least fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity of heaven for me. I couldn't even smell my dirty pants anymore. She kissed me, over and over. She rubbed my sore back and patted my messy bottom. She slid her leg between my thighs. It was as if all my dreams were coming true this day. Her kisses had been rare before, but now I was getting all of them. Tender and sweet, sloppy and lusty, all kinds of kisses- we made out the entire time, as I caught my breath. 
    "Now it's time for work," She told me and patted my butt again as she helped me up off the bed, and directed me to my workshop, where I make my gears and interlocking bolts. I knew what was coming, it had happened before, but I still couldn't quite get used to it- I grimaced as she made me sit on my work bench, sit right in my poopy mess, smear it all over my butt and fill my ass crack and smoosh down my thighs. She locked my ankles into place, dusted her hands off, and left me to my work. I did what I could, but work was coming slowly, because I couldn't get over the stink filling my nostrils and the uncomfortable sensation of sitting in pants absolutely bulging with poop. Not to mention, every once in awhile, Mistress randomly turned on the remote egg vibrator, interrupting my work and making me bend double over the table. 
    A short while later, she returned, wearing pants once again. "Am- am I done?" I asked, twisting my body to look up at her, but she didn't say anything. All she did was come over to me, and unbutton her pants. She dropped them around her ankles, stepping out of them, and she put her foot up on the bench next to me. She pulled her labia back, and proceeded to pee on me, again. For the third time today, she was peeing on me... piss splattered all over my chest, ran down into my pants and warmly soaked them once again. I shuddered with delight, and in response, Mistress thumbed the switch and turned on my vibrator. I moaned whorishly, squeezing my thighs together. About a minute later, she was finished, and without a word, she put her pants back on, and left. 
    About two hours later, my bladder was full, so I wet my pants. There was nothing I could do about it. What surprised me was how easily it happened- usually when I wet myself Mistress forces me, or I have to try a little. But this time, I soaked my pants like I was sitting on the toilet, without any effort. My urine poured over the edges of the bench, splattering and making a puddle underneath me. "Mmmmmnnn..." I moaned tenderly at the relief and warmth. I felt a hand caress my hair, and looked up- Mistress was there. I hadn't heard her come in- she just came and went wherever she wanted, silent as a ghost. She leaned down and kissed my cheek. "Good girl," She said to me. Her breath smelled of wine... that worried me a bit. I'd never seen her intoxicated before. 
    Just like the last time, she unbuttoned her pants, dropped them, put her leg up on the bench, and pissed on me. I was getting used to it now, so it didn't even interrupt my work- Mistress casually just using me as a toilet while I carved out grooves and ground stones into dust. She tousled my hair affectionately as her stream tapered off, and she pulled her pants back up, and left me to my work. This continued to happen throughout the night. It was wonderful- Mistress peeing on me so much. I hadn't realized how much I enjoyed it, before. She was starting to come in and pee on me more frequently- I wet myself every few hours. Each time Mistress came in, she seemed increasingly more intoxicated. 
    It was growing close to the evening, and Mistress hadn't come in to pee on me in awhile. I was a bit concerned, given how she had been drinking, so I wanted to go check on her. Locking me into my bench was more of a formality, really, because with all my tools in front of me, it was simple to simply take the leg restraints apart and free myself. So, I did, standing up and shuddering as the weight of my poopy pants fell away from my bottom. Ffffsssshhhhhhhhhhh... I heard the tell-tale sound of pee hissing against already wet fabric coming from me, looking down in surprise. Urine re-soaked my white jeans, gushed across my lap, ran down the back of my thighs, dripped off my messy bulging pants. "I- I'm peeing..." I murmured to myself in surprise- I had grown so used to using my pants as a toilet that I just started to pee, without even noticing I had to go. 
    I stood there for half a minute, holding my hand against my groin and re-wetting my pants. The floor of my workshop was soaked with pee puddles- though I did work with fluids often, so there was a drainage hole in the middle of the shop. Later on I would have to come in and rinse everything down. I wet myself quite a bit when I craft parts for Mistress's rifles, so I was used to the routine. As the last drops of pee gushed into my pants, I started to move and make my way into the house, to check on Mistress. 
    I was rightfully worried about her. She didn't seem to be hurt, but she also didn't seem to be in any kind of state to help herself. I found her heavily intoxicated, sitting in her favorite chair, head rolled back and snoring. I giggled a little bit- it was cute, not to mention, Mistress didn't usually snore. Sleeping like that would clearly strain her neck, so I came over and touched her thigh, giving her knee a little shake. "Mistress... Mistress, are you okay?" I asked her in a tender, quiet voice, as not to startle her. She groaned and rolled her head forward, almost falling off the chair- I caught her before she could fall forward. "Whas... uhh... huh? Wha're you doin baby? Uughhh... baby... heh, you're such a baby... little piss pants." Of course- even intoxicated out of her mind, she wouldn't stop insulting me. 
    "Y... yes Mistress, I wet my pants." "You stink," she mocked me, laughing at me and slouching back into her chair. "Y-yes, yes Mistress, I stink. How much did you...?" I asked, before I looked down at the ground, seeing two and a half empty bottles of wine. I raised my eyebrows, shocked that I was even able to wake her up after that much. "Why did you drink so much, Mistress?" I asked her, concern tinging my voice. "I hah... ta think... 'bout summnh..." She waved her hand at me to dismiss me, try and shoo me away, but I just came back and caught her shoulders. "Well... um... maybe you should get to bed," I suggested, and she nodded her head in agreement. "Can you walk?" I asked her. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, pushed on the arms of her chair, and tried to stand up- only to fall back down into the chair. "Uhhhh... no." 
    Grimacing, I took Mistress's hand and helped her up the best I could. She was a tall, muscular woman, which made her considerably heavier than me. She could pick me up and carry me over her shoulder- something she had literally done before- but I couldn't budge her at all by myself. Luckily, she was coherent enough to lean on me, and we gradually made our way down the hallway to her bedroom, holding her arm across my shoulders and letting her use me as a crutch. We were halfway there, when I heard that sound again. That unmistakable hhhhsssssssshhhhhhh... I looked down at my lap, shocked. How could I possibly be wetting myself again, already? There was no way! 
    But, I didn't see anything. No glistening spreading across my lap, no rivulets dripping between my legs. It couldn't be... I looked over to my left. I wasn't wetting myself. 
    It was Mistress. Mistress was wetting her pants. 
    She had gotten so intoxicated, she was wetting herself, soaking her dark violet pants. I watched in astonishment as glistening wetness soaked down the inside of her thighs, pee streams falling between her legs like little waterfalls. The hissing noise of her peeing combined with the splattering sound of pee puddling on the wooden floor. It was a full on, complete accident, and I watched rapt with attention as Mistress pissed her pants for a full minute straight. It was... incredible. It felt like the first time Mistress made ME wet my pants, I was unbelievably turned on. I hadn't ever realized that I wanted to see this, but I did. "M... Mistress... you... um... you're... wetting yourself." 
    She looked down at her lap as if only just now realizing, putting her hand against her crotch. "Uuughh... fuck," She murmured. I couldn't tell if she was blushing, or if her face was just red from drinking. "Now I'm a piss-pants like you, too." I shook my head and continued to help Mistress along, diverting her instead to the washroom, praying that she hadn't re-locked that ridiculously difficult puzzle door. "N-no, I... you... um, you have an excuse... it was an accident... I- I'm much worse than you, I pee my pants every day. Look, I pooped my pants, remember? I'm- s-still wearing them." She looked down at me and smirked, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and intoxication. "Oh yeah... hah, you did... mmmnn..." She let go of my shoulders and reached down to pat my bottom, firmly pressing on my dirty pants, squishing it against my butt, and I grimaced again. "Look at you... sexy little shit-pants slut..." 
    "L-lets not get distracted," I tried to coax her, reigning her in and taking her arm again to lead her to the bathroom. I helped her to strip down first, and got her into the tub, where I started to fill it with hot bathwater. Meanwhile, I had to trudge my poopy ass through the house to Mistress's room, to get the key for my belt. When I came back, she had draped her arms alongside the tub and was moaning at the feeling of hot water starting to wash over her legs, rolling her head back. "Mmmnn, tha's good," She muttered to herself.
    I, on the other hand, had to use my own... special 'potty station'. It wasn't like a bath tub- It was kind of like a shower, but with a hose that had a narrow nozzle. A firm stream came from it that I would use to wash myself down in my little glass and porcelain chamber, watching as my mess went down the large drain, glad to finally be free of the oppressive, messy, soaking wet pants. I rinsed out my pants the best that I could, and left them to hang on a hook in the chamber. I blushed at the sight of them, the pure white fabric totally stained brown and yellow. We'd have to bleach them, again... 
    I sighed, and turned to leave Mistress to her bath, when she reached out and snatched my wrist. "Come in with me," She told me. Sharing a bath with Mistress... I blushed with shyness. I'd never done it before, and the idea definitely pleased me. "If... if you want," I murmured, and gingerly came over, stepping into the bath tub. It was big enough for the both of us, and I was able to sit between Mistress's ankles, sighing happily as I felt the hot water rise around my butt, a welcome change from hot pee soaking my butt. Mistress snatched up my foot, picking it up and starting to rub and squeeze it, like it was a toy for her to play with. "Mmmn... your feet aren't so bad," She thought aloud as she examined them. "Th... thank you," I blushed at the compliment. "I like feet too, you know... on top of... the other stuff," She said, sounding just a little more coherent. 
    "The... other stuff..." I parroted back at her, shifting uncomfortably on my butt. We had never explicitly talked about it- our interests, what pleased us. I had figured out by now that Mistress likes to punish me and make me wet myself, obviously, but I wasn't sure what else there was- and I was completely unsure of what pleased ME. This was all new territory for me. "I um... I would like it... if you made me um, wear... um..." She pinched her fingers against my foot, starting to rub her thumb along the bridge of it, massaging it. "Go on, say it." "Um... wear... diapers." She chuckled at me, raising her eyebrows. "More diapers, huh? Ok. Then you're going to have to go buy them." My face went bright red with embarrassment. "M-me!?" I said, and she laughed at me again. "Oh, are you too shy? How do you think I feel going out and buying adult diapers for women? People think they're for me, sometimes." 
    That made me blush even brighter, as I remembered what had happened, out in the hallway. I twiddled my fingers together as the water rose up to my hips, staring down between my legs. "About... about that..." I murmured. "Oh?" Mistress asked, again raising her eyebrow. I was worried- she was being uncharacteristically calm with me. Usually, that meant a mood swing was right around the corner. If I made her mad... But I still wanted to say it. "I... liked it..." "What did you like?" She asked, putting my one foot down and starting to massage the other. "When you, um... when you... peed." "I peed a lot today," She said with a shrug, and I shook my head. "No, I mean... when you... in the hallway..." 
    Mistress narrowed her eyes sharply at me, holding my foot still. I trembled under the might of her gaze. Even intoxicated like this, I'm sure I would never be any kind of match for her. I thought she was going to punish me, when her face broke into a smirk, and she started to laugh. "Really? I see!" She said, still laughing at me. I chuckled along nervously, glad that I had apparently amused her instead of incurring her wrath. She braced her feet and arms against the tub, and lifted her hips out of the water- and peed, gushing an arc of urine onto my chest. "Don't forget your place, slut," She warned me good naturedly. But I was feeling rebellious today... I decided it was my turn. I lifted my own hips out of the water, pursed my lips and gave a push... and peed on Mistress. 
    She stared at me again with that furious expression, but ended up sputtering and laughing at me. "Oh, is that revenge for all the times today?" She asked me. I blushed and nodded, and she answered me by peeing a spurt on me again. So, I peed on her, again. We did that back and forth with what little remained in our bladders, giggling at each other. I was so happy- it felt like I was really trying to connect with her. It was a shame that she had to be drunk for it to happen, but still... I was happy. She helped me wash my back and I helped her with hers. By the time we were done she was just slightly sobered up enough to walk on her own, towling off her hair. She tossed it into the hallway laundry basket and stumbled into bed. I managed to get her to roll over enough to tuck her blanket up over her shoulders. 
    She was so strong, but in this moment, she looked so tender to me. I had never seen this side of her. I bent down, to kiss her on the cheek. She had punished me two times already for this, but I couldn't help it- I felt so strongly about it, that I just had to say it again. "I love you," I murmured to her. To my surprise, she just rolled over and groaned tiredly, and replied "You, too." I stared down at her and my heart soared in my chest. I felt like a little girl having her first crush again. I was too shy and awkward to stay, so I left her like that, blowing out the candles and retreating to my own room, dressing in my silky pink pajamas and getting into bed. I was so giddy, full of adrenaline, and it took me nearly an hour to get to sleep. 
    The next morning, I awoke to the sunlight streaming through my curtains, the birds chirping, wind gently rustling through the trees outside my window. I awoke to a dry bed, for once, and stretched and yawned, pulling the sheets off and rolling out of bed. Since I didn't wet the bed, I had to pee, and needed to brush my teeth anyway, so I headed straight out the door and down the hallway to the bathroom- when suddenly, something was clicked around my neck. Mistress had stalked up behind me, like usual, and had put a collar on me- she walked around in front of me with a smirk, tugging on the leash to make me follow her. My heart pounded with anxiety- had she remembered what happened last night? Was she going to punish me for it? 
    She made me walk with her out into the living room. She cupped my cheek, giving me a few light smacks, more affectionate than painful. "Sit," she commanded me, and I immediately obeyed, getting down on my knees on the floor and looking up at her. She was wearing one of her favorite outfits- tight, form fitting light blue pants and a black and blue corset-like top that had no sleeves and pushed up her chest, giving her a curvier form. She caressed my face, tousled my hair, and turned around, backing herself up to me. She yanked on the leash to force my face against her butt...
    And she started to pee. 
    Warm urine cascaded over my face and dripped down onto my chest, soaking into my pink silky shirt, and I watched, utterly astounded as the wet patch glistened and spread across Mistress's butt, down the back of her thighs... totally soaking her pants. She was doing it again, Mistress was wetting herself- right in front of me, right in my face. She tugged harder on the leash to force my face against her toned backside. "Ugh, what a disgusting feeling. Is this what you really do every single day? And you like this, hmm? Does the perverted little slave enjoy watching Mistress piss her pants?" 
    "Mmmfff!" I tried to reply, muffled by her butt and her soaking wet pants, the taste of her pee on my lips, the acrid scent of urinated in pants hitting my nostrils. I had come to enjoy this smell, but it was even more incredible knowing that it was Mistress doing it. She wiggled her butt back against my face, as I felt the pee stream running down the back of her legs begin to taper and cut off. "It's so warm and wet, isn't it? Do you like it? Are you aroused, you horny little slug?" She let go of the leash and allowed me to back off, to get a full look at it. At Mistress's shapely bottom and strong thighs, soaking wet with pee. Mistress... Mistress wet herself... for me. She had remembered what I said last night... and instead of being punished, I was being rewarded. 
    "Up," She commanded, tugging on the leash and dragging me up to my feet. My hand shook, and I felt overcome with a desire. "You may touch it," Mistress said, once again reading my mind. I ran my hand up and down her inner thigh, caressed her bottom, in awe of what a wonderful sensation it was, touching her wet ass. She turned around and took my hand, pulling me up against her, chest to chest and face to face. Her other hand went down to my bottom, giving it a smack. "Your turn," She commanded me. "Piss yourself." 
    I was happy to oblige, the floodgates opening up as I willingly peed a steady stream in my silky pink pajamas. They clung wetly to my inner thighs, I felt that wonderful warmth, the rush and the embarrassment of having an accident in front of Mistress. My pee soaked under my butt cheeks, drenched down the inside of my legs and the back of my thighs. I shivered as I felt the rivulets run down my leg and out across my foot. It was so easy... it was getting so much easier to just wet my pants. "Good girl," Mistress cooed at me as she felt me up, squeezed my pissy wet bottom. "That's my adorable little piss-pants elf." 
    Just like yesterday, I started my morning with an accident, and a ravishing, passionate, intense session of intercourse. Later that day, Mistress blessed me with the sight of her wetting her pants two more times, and she even put me in diapers. We could hardly keep our hands off each other- whatever had happened last night, it was as if some kind of wall was broken down between us. I don't know if she forgave me for my crimes, or if she had just forgotten about them, but I felt for the first time that I was more than just her slave, I was her girlfriend. 
    I realized that day, that I wanted to spend the rest of my long, long life, with her.
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