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  1. Whoah Linkx TWO 10k+ word stories in ONE night, crazy; You're a madman! Another idea I've run with recently based on the string of Marine and soldier pictures Livinginfinite has done as of late I got the idea as just a writing exercise initially so its a little rough but I liked the idea of just doing first person vignettes to get the maximum amount of smut per sentence :D There's little rereading of this because somehow it turned out quite long, this is still ongoing too every few days or so I just write a few scenes so there will be more in the future. I found it really hard to strike a balance between writing what the character would write and just going into a full blown narrative with descriptions up the wazoo because the idea isn't really set up for that. I feel most of the time it went well but sometimes I just couldn't help myself and went overboard with the scene. Anyyyyway I'm rambling again join me on yet another magical adventure. Sgt Major Elesa Killian signing in for I don't know why... I think it's rather stupid but the base physician Dr Li said it was he recommended it of me and confided that consideration for higher promotion would require a “diary” of any incidents. God I'm blushing as I write this... ridiculous I just turned twenty-seven and I'm keeping a diary of... how often I piss myself. I don’t even know why they want me to write it down, they already have the statistical information about it from the rfid linked sensors sewn into each garment. Our bathroom habits are recorded and kept on our very own potty chart as we call it. I guess It shows we can take responsibility for our bodily functions or some other bullshit. They probably just want more information on what makes us tick what causes us to break down and empty ourselves in terror. I can proudly say though I haven't shit myself in three weeks and I aim to keep it that way. For fucks sake; I was one of the youngest recipients of the Juliet bronze medal of competency... but they might as well call it potty training 101. They give it to those who can stop messing their pants for long enough to stand on stage without having an accident. I'm almost embarrassed to call myself a recipient of an award recognizing that in the eyes of the forces I'm at least partially potty trained. God how I hate standard issue equipment; It's ridiculous, princesses, butterflies, snowflakes, cutesy stripes it's enough to make me want to scream sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if they really do just think we're all just children. General Williams stands up for us but compared to some of the other brass I don't think she has much say. God I wonder if they keep her in these too... what am I even saying of course they don't. I want to be just like her, I met her once she handed me my medal in person. It was such an honor, her combat continence record was incredible. You know what they say though it's all the lowest bidder and Kimberly Clark must have given the government a screaming deal to put us all in basically pullups. The amount of free advertisement they get from being the “official incontinence garment of female service members” more than makes up for it I bet. I guess they really just look at us all like children keeping us all in huggies. I felt I should have done better I'm twenty-seven and all the medical journals all say twenty-five is the average age we gain an acceptable level of control of our bowels. That's not to say we don't have our mishaps now and then but even with the scientific evidence saying we can control ourselves just fine standard issue underwear are incontinence garments. You can submit a request for alternate protection at thirty and move to just a pad but... what the hell am I talking about I'm rambling again. Anybody who ends up reading this probably knows all that shit I guess I'm just frustrated. I hate feeling like a toddler, having to have someone keep watch so I can change my pissy diaper. The scornful looks of some of the lower ranked men are the worst and... oh damn it all I'm wet again. I'll be right back and we can start this stupid thing. I guess it was a good thing I needed to change, no sooner than I got in the bathroom I really needed to um... “go” God this potty training thing is hard, I just don't understand how males can do it so easily. One second I'm fine or barely need to go and the next second it’s an emergency and I can't even stop myself. July 13th First official entry what a wonderful day it’s been… That time of the year again where we get to play with the fresh meat while in between deployments. We were doing live fire training, want to see if any of them could shoot and one of the girls was the cocky type. I think her name was Alexa, self-confident brunette twenty two year old fresh out of basic. She was scoring pretty high but making sure to let everyone else know which wasn’t going to earn her many friends. She made a few disparaging comments when a pair of girls sheepishly asked me if they could have a minute to change their diapers to which I acquiesced letting them know in the future they may not be so lucky. Carefully I loaded a select few rounds into a standard issue Mossberg. A normal slug, a blank, another blank followed by a dragon’s breath round. I got her attention calling her by her rank “private” and tossed her the weapon telling her to show me what I could do. She just nodded confident she would “show” me not realizing she was in for quite a shock. The first shot was an inch of so off center mass. Off to a good start but the second being a blank did nothing to the target. I laughed, I mean the look of confusion on her face alone was worth it before she racked the next cartridge wondering how she missed only to have the same result the second time. She didn’t suspect anything and determined to prove her marksmanship. Deep in concentration she grit her teeth before pulling the trigger again. The giant ball of fire and the noise shattered her concentration as she nearly threw the gun. She lost control and badly in front of everyone I’m talking fully voiding. Her pants sagged pretty bad and they were soaked. In her cockiness she chose to go against policy and just wear a pair of panties, big mistake on her part as the stain on her fatigues was pretty obvious that she’d shit herself. From the looks of some of the others there were quite a few more wet diapers to deal with and even I admit I leaked a little at the sudden blast but for her to learn her lesson it was worth it. I guess this is supposed to be about me though well fire practice ended soon after that and I realized I needed to go pretty bad. My little leak earlier wasn’t making it any easier. I was about to make it inside the barracks and that stupid ac unit kicked on that ancient thing is so loud and I…. I was just startled and wet myself. These stupid things are supposed to be maximum absorbency but it still leaked all over my pant. After all that I was going to make it to the bathroom and a stupid piece of machinery frightens me and I end up soaking myself. July 14th Today was not a good day it started wet and didn’t get any drier. I woke up and found my pullup had leaked while I slept. Stumbling out of bed I stubbed my toe and ended up wetting myself a few feet from the toilet. That’s one of the worst feelings… standing just a few feet away from where you know you should be peeing only to feel it rushing down your legs. After that stellar start to my morning this didn’t really improve. With a fresh set of princess pants hugging my hips I set about my day. Sometimes I feel leave is a bit boring around base but I help out where I can fortunately getting deployed at the end of the week. Lunch time rolled around without further incident and I guess I had been drinking a lot or something but right in the mess hall eating a bit of lunch I just out of nowhere felt that warm tickling. It took me a second but I knew I was wetting myself. I managed to get control of myself… barely but the damage was done. My pullup was soaked; it felt wet which was bad. I knew anymore and it would most certainly leak. I hate the warm squishy feeling between your legs when you have to walk after having wet yourself. It’s so awkward. Finally the third time’s the charm. I regret this one but some of my squadmates decided to have a little fun with the newbies. What I really regret is the fact we were caught by the mps skulking around base after lights out. They lit us up with flood lights as a handful of them leapt out of the jeep holding rifles up screaming at us. The three of us froze petrified at being caught. Poor Jill next to me messed herself. I could hear the wet crackling even over the hiss of our bladders emptying into our pants. Sienna ended up just as wet as I did and admittedly in the chill of the night the warm sodden padding felt not half bad. We got off light as they felt a bit bad for surprising us. I think Jill’s accident really saved our asses and we were sent back to our quarters with just a verbal reprimand. Uhg so yeah, three accidents in one day at that rate I’ll never be recommended for the silver medal at this rate July 16th Managed not to wet myself the day after I did it three times but I couldn’t keep a dry streak going. I should have known better but it just sounded fun. Messing around on the hard landing simulator with some of the privates. It's a big trampoline meant to teach proper landing technique for paratrooping and disembarking from airborne craft. I really should have said no, I've read the articles about our weakened pelvic floors and sudden high g impacts causing loss of control. Foolishly I thought it wouldn't happen to be buuuuut; It seems my confidence was misplaced. As soon as I landed I felt a long spurt leave my body. I panicked trying to stop but I landed clumsily bouncing again feeling another long dribble come out. By the time I managed to stop landing my pullup was soaked. My cheeks were rosy as I moved carefully trying to prevent leaks in front of the privates. I could feel a stray trickle of wetness running down my thigh but fortunately everyone else’s attention was drawn to a hapless private who took her turn after me. As I cautiously waddled off the trampoline a Private Rachel Adams leapt not having heeded the recommendation of hitting the bathroom before participating. Her face said it all. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the moment it happened. Her face twisted into a mix of surprise and disgust the shock of the initial landing. I could tell she was pooping in her pants. She was so caught off guard frozen by the act of messing her diaper she fell straight on her ass with a gross squish. I didn't stay around to inspect the damage but she started sniffling and the smell was foul. I quickly ran off to change my own soggy pull-up before it leaked even further. July 18th Fuck, damn it, assholes; those assholes. I was so close to an entire month without dirtying myself and then today happened. Uhg… calm down Elesa it was just an accident and you weren’t alone. Ok this is what happened but the fact they pulled this little stunt… really!? I can’t believe the base commander Ok’d this but then I guess he’s always been a dick. They wanted opinions and feedback on a new product. A new line of incontinence garments specifically designed for us women in the battlefield. I’d seen a few before but no company had ever managed to wrestle the lucrative contract away from Kimberly Clark. If it meant that I didn’t have to go into battle wearing princesses and fairies under my fatigues I am all for it though. It was mostly women and a few men packed into a small room with the presentation equipment all set up. On the front table a bunch of brochures were laid out along with a few sample products. They were fantastic I would love it if we actually had those instead. Laid out they were matte black as opposed to our brightly colored childish designs. They even had a bit of faux lace around the cuffs making them look nearly like real panties, well almost. Before I sat down I snatched one of the brochures leafing through it. It was adorned with a bunch of feel good taglines and pleasant and encouraging euphemisms. They might as well just come out and say it; Inconitech Shadow Fit, because you can’t stop crapping your pants like a child. Maybe that’s a little harsh but it can get pretty grating when everyone sugar coats it. They were really going all out to win our approval side by side comparison, data points, a features list. I lightly scanned it all before the lights dimmed and the presentation began. I think we all blushed at the opening slide it read “Shadow Fit, you won’t even know they’re there until you’re glad they are.” I’d participated in these sort of demo and evaluations before and knew what to expect. Admittedly I was only half paying attention as the sales rep covered data points envisioning myself wearing such a garment instead of what I was in now. Nobody was expecting what happened next as the slide advanced. An earsplitting scream came through the speakers and a clip from some damn horror movie of a visceral horror attacked the screen briefly before the presentation continued. In that moment of shock I know I wasn’t alone in letting out a surprised scream of terror as I dropped the pamphlet flinching. When I finally recovered I blushed as a silenced hush fell over the room and a faint trickle of pee falling from some of the seats dribbled to the floor. That was the least of my worries as I realized feeling the squishy mass in the seat of my diaper I had lost control of my bowels in addition to flooding it. I could see those telltale darkened stains of a leaking incontinence garment. Fortunately it wasn’t leaking as bad as some of the others. Still though I wasn’t about to sit through the rest of the presentation in my own shit. I tried to excuse myself but instead, at the approval of Commander Ryan found myself brought to the front of the room. The room began to smell rather foul as judging by some of the other blushing faces of discomfort I wasn’t the only one who shit her pants. He asked me to lower my pants. It was mortifying as I stood there with my back turned to the small room slowly exposing my heavily soiled garment. The pastel princess adorned garment was badly discolored. I could tell the rear sagged heavily and since I had been sitting at the time of the accident my thighs felt sticky I had a bit of a blowout as well and could see brown smudges inside my pants. Using me as a live demo he seemed to go on and on about absorbent this, leak guards that had I been wearing a shadow fit their superior technology would have contained such an accident and prevented urinary or fecal leakage saving my pants from soilage. This went on for at least five minutes while I stood in front of everyone doing my best not to squirm as my shitty bottom was on display for all. He tried to be clinical about it but still I was standing in front of everyone including superior officers having just soiled myself. Eventually he dismissed me handing me a sample to change into and thanked me for my participation. I quickly left trying to walk normally which is rather difficult when you’ve got a load in your pants. I’m still in disbelief that they would let them pull that kind of shit but at least I got one of those shadow fits out of it… deployment can’t come soon enough. July 19th After what happened yesterday I really didn’t even want to leave my quarters. For a confidence booster I pulled out the all black incontinence garment and slipped out of my current pair tossing them aside. These things are incredible compared to the stupid pull-ups we get. I slipped it up my legs and the way it hugs my hips. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while just admiring my lithe body. They looked almost like real panties, they were quieter by a large margin than standard issue and if you believe the data sheet provided superior protection. What really made me laugh was they’re available with an optional Kevlar weave outer shell. Begrudgingly I slipped them off and folded them up neatly wanting to save them for a special occasion before pulling out a fresh pull-up. Butterflies and stars… who makes these designs. I didn’t really feel like doing much else and after a bit of lunch flopped back into bed for a nap. My flight out with my squad was tomorrow and I couldn’t wait. I woke up after an hour or miraculously roused by the feeling of a full bladder. I was pretty confused about not waking up in sodden padding. I kind of looked at the bathroom and just shrugged. I didn’t want to get out of bed so I just kind of peed. I soaked my pull-up of my own volition making some of those stupid patterns disappear before quickly going back to sleep. I didn’t wake again till much later finding I had leaked once again dampening my sheets. I don’t know what I was thinking I feel so childish, I regret doing it now. What kind of Juliet medal holder uses her pants like that with a bathroom so close? I bet general Williams never did something so stupid… July 20th Finally, time to actually do something. My flight out was today unfortunately it wasn’t without incident for a few of us… well all of us females anyway. Longer flights require the use of a portable relief device; A fancy way of saying a thick diaper because we’re not trusted to keep the seats of their fancy planes dry. Unlike standard issue these are the tape up kind and only given out in changing centers. It’s ridiculous we can’t even put them on ourselves. At 0500 sharp I reported to the changing station awkwardly waving to a couple of my squad-mates who were there for the precise reason I was. The air was heavy with the smell of stale urine and shit. I knew I was wet. I figured why bother changing out of my soggy pull-up, most women I think shared the same sentiment although I couldn't imagine going to get changed voluntarily with a messy diaper I think I’d die of embarrassment if they had to wipe my ass for me. I guess some of them don't care as much as I do about it but I guess that's why they still receive sub satisfactory marks on their potty training reviews. My change went on normally the stupid thing taped up around my hips sealing my fate for the next few hours. I could have sworn the nurse in charge of me gave me a disapproving look as she tossed my sodden pullup away but with the wasteband of her own garment sticking about the hem of her pants she had no room to talk. Once we were all aboard the transport it didn't take us long to taxi out and hit the skies. I looked around on takeoff and I could have sworn some of them were already squirming in their seats. I just rolled my eyes and tried to get some sleep irritated that more of my comrades didn't take their potty training as seriously as I did as I watch Staff Sargent Grimwold kind of gaze off and I knew she was using her relief device. Flying doesn't usually bother me but I don't really care for turbulence. I know Astrid hates flying and I could see her white knuckle clenching the arm rests on the seat before I drifted off certain she had already soaked herself. A couple hours into the flight I woke up with the plane feeling like it was about to be pitched from the sky. An anomalous weather pattern just sort of sprung up on the plane apparently and it was being thrown about like a child's toy by a rambunctious toddler. I couldn't stop myself as I let out a surprised scream at the shock of being thrown awake. I was vaguely aware my diaper was a little damp from my sleep but the sudden shock of being thrown around by the brutal turbulence was making it much wetter. Nervously I grasped the arm rests and tried to relax... to stop peeing but I couldn't. I hate that feeling, you try to clench your muscles but it’s like there's nothing there. Fortunately I managed to stop it at just pee but I could feel my bowels quivering and it vaguely smelled like someone had already filled their pants. Astrid was crying softly to herself as the plane gave another violent shudder and I could only assume she was the culprit. I did not envy her seat right now, being thrown around constantly squishing it everywhere... uhg. I tried to focus on staying calm to set a good example for the rest of the women in my squad but it’s easier said than done. I was doing ok until the plane hit an air pocket... The whole craft must have dropped a couple hundred feet in a second. That however wasn't the worst of it. My stomach flip flopped in the weitless experience of free fall as we were all lifted slightly out of our seats and a bolt of lightning hit the starboard wing. The crack of thunder was deafening and the light illuminated the cabin. I shrieked and so did all the other women and then I... Damnit two days in a row I shit myself after not having went in my pants for nearly a month straight. I know I wasn't alone that time in fact I'm pretty sure they all did... it certainly smelled foul enough. As I was in free-fall my whole body just reacted on fearful instinct pushing a large load into my protective garment then the fall stopped and smush... I sat on it with all my weight and let me tell you that did not make cleanup fun for the changing room staff. We were a sight after disembarking the men went off to their quarters but us women all kind of waddled awkwardly walked as best you can when you've pooped yourself. Some had even managed to leak through their personal relief device which I thought was a rather impressive display of cowardice. That was not a fun plane flight... July 21st First day back on deployment started as wet as ever. I wet the bed which I’m starting to wonder if I should even bother noting since it happens so often. At least my pull-ups didn’t leak this time. I had really hoped I was outgrowing it but I guess not… I know few if any women ever do but still… I bet General Williams or Peterson don’t have this issue. Speaking of which that leads me to an actual accident that god it makes me feel like a child. I didn’t even think I had to go that bad but during breakfast the mess hall was abuzz with chatter. I overheard excited snippets from some of the other women General Williams herself was going to be coming to the base. I was ecstatic though the details were fuzzy I was so excited I err well didn’t really notice that I started peeing myself. I didn’t feel the hot wet rush until it had engulfed my private area. I peed too much too fast not even realizing it in my excitement until it was too late. I leaked straight through my pull-up. The padding is often not adequate to deal with our sudden accidents I don’t know why they haven’t given us something better. Soon enough I was sitting in a puddle and I could feel it soaking into my clothes clinging to my thighs. Needless to say I quickly excused myself hearing the snickers of my squad as I walked away my fatigues plainly discolored by pee. I visited the head every half hour trying to empty my bowels. After two days in a row of not making it I didn’t want to run the risk of a bowel accident especially not even in a combat situation. It worked more or less. Even if I didn’t feel the need I went and made myself sit on the toilet sometimes surprised by a few streams of pee I didn’t even know was in me. I did wet myself once more in the afternoon however. I volunteered to help unload supplies I hated to sit idly by and let the men to all the work. It’s a matter of pride we constantly have to prove ourselves and our little bathroom issues don’t make it any easier. Jill volunteered with me and we worked in the blazing midday sun unloading crates with the rest of the guys in our squad. Crates filled with various supplies, munitions, mre’s and of course multiple crates of incontinence garments. Even with proper lifting technique you’re going to wet yourself with any sort of heavy item. It has to do with our weak pelvic floor or something. Even so I managed to keep each release down to a small dribble each time I hoisted something up with Jill’s assistance. Towards the end I could feel a familiar wet heaviness signifying I was soaked. I didn’t even think I had gone that much but I guess it just adds up over time. I pressed my hand against my crotch with a wet squish to judge if I needed to change; I definitely needed one. One more crate and then we could leave the rest and go change. My pull-up was decidedly drenched and I knew Jill wasn’t much drier. She’d always been a bit flighty and probably had the worst control of our squad. The crate was really heavy, neither of us was expecting it and she strained a little too hard. Luckily I was already empty at that point releasing only drops of pee into my swelled garment. Jill on the overhand went wide eyed and blushed deeply as the strain of trying to lift such a heavy object forced her to drop a load into her saturated incontinence garment. A soiled pull-up has a very distinct smell there was no way she could have hidden what she did but I felt a bit bad for her and just suggested we call it a day and go change. She agreed with a fervent nod eyes watering slightly. Jill walked off ahead of me and I could see the redhead’s fatigues sagging slightly in the rear as she walked away awkwardly. I hate how obvious it is when you have an accident like that. Jul 22nd First day back on the job and it feels good. Even woke up dry this morning! It’s an eight person squad consisting of myself the highest ranking at Sergeant Major, Jill Davis and Joshua Chambers are second highest at Master Sergeant. Then bringing up the middle we have Astrid Miller, Sienna Torres and David Lynch all at Staff Sergeant. Valerie Woods is our lowest ranking woman at Sergeant and our newest member Jack Burton is only a Corporal. We’ve all got a wide range of skills that complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses. As expected our first assignment was a routine patrol just to get us warmed up again. We got suited up went over the route and headed out leaving in one of the many MRAPs stationed there. It was a pretty quiet night Joshua was driving and Valerie was riding navigator. The silence of the night was shattered when we hit an IED that was waiting for out patrol. The cabin was immediately filled with the fearful cries of the other women but I managed to control my voice gripping the edge of the seat for support. We were all a bit shaken not to mention now in need of a dry pull-up. I could feel the sodden squish of wet absorbent gel between my legs thighs and with how Jill and Astrid were squirming they weren’t any better off. Sienna had lost it though she was crying shaking her head and that’s when the smell of a bowel movement assaulted my nose. Even though she’d never said anything I suspected she was a bit claustrophobic and the MRAPs weren’t the most spacious of vehicles. I should have comforted her as the commanding officer but I was still a bit shaken myself. Lynch moved in putting his hand on her shoulder. She quickly calmed down enough for him to move her to the floor of the vehicle which doubled as an effective changing station. Her face was bright red as he slipped her trousers down but there was little else she could do. It wouldn't suit to have her sitting in a pile of shit for the rest of our patrol and it was considered a team building experience. It was about as intimate an experience you could get with a squad mate. If you could trust them to change your shitty diaper you could trust them with just about everything. We all kind of turned away as best we could knowing how it feels to be changed with all eyes on you isn't exactly pleasant. Lynch was always good with changes though um not that I really know I mean I didn't have that many accidents especially not bowel accidents! After that we got through the rest of the patrol with no issues returning to the normal life of being deployed ENTRY PENDING REVIEW Review Council notes concerning entry dated Jul 22nd multiple statements of a questionable nature and the sensors in Sergeant Major Killians pull-up detecting a release of 573gr of fecal matter led to an inquiry of the events concerning the aforementioned night of the 22nd. Upon further review the council recommends extreme judiciousness. Her claim of “I didn't have that many accidents especially not bowel accidents” was called into question and only partially substantiated. Empirically compared to other 27 year old soldiers rank Sergeant to Sergeant Major she was 9.4% less likely to have an accident given most scenarios. However compared to the rest of the units in her squad she was only 3.3% less likely to have an accident. Interestingly though compared to all other Bronze Juliet Medal recipients Sergeant Major Elesa Killian was 1.9% more likely to have an accident in the following scenarios: combat, sleeping, strenuous exercise, long flights. Accident in this sense refers to the military standard of an involuntary loss of 150ml or more of urine and/or an involuntary passing of 100gr or more of feces into ones clothing. The statement that only Staff Sergeant Sienna Miller was the one to have lost control of her bowels was deemed unequivocally false as Sgt Maj Elesa Killian passed 573gr of feces into her pull-up and was deemed in need of a change by Corporal Jack Burton. Questioning now First Sergeant Jack Burton he gave this retelling of that night. “The first patrol back? I remember it... No Elesa definitely soiled herself. Lynch took care of Sienna but I could tell the way Major Killian was still crying and squirming that she had an involuntary bowel movement as well. I asked if she wanted help but she started yelling at me that as a Corporal I had no business changing her. I tried to remind her of SoP and the SoCoC during a bout of incontinence but just wouldn’t listen. Eventually I slapped her and threatened her with a spanking. I may have only been a Corporal but I knew the rules, everyone is trained in dealing with female incontinence. She calmed down a little and agreed to letting me change her but she wasn’t happy about it. I don’t know what got into her maybe it was the first mission in a while but she definitely freaked out a little.” This retelling has been corroborated with then Staff Sergeant David Lynch and Astrid Miller both part of the patrol that night. We hope this blatant disregard for the truth is an isolated incident and Major Killian’s otherwise honest entries will not be tarnished by this inaccurate report. Jul 23rd She’s here she actually is here! I didn’t have an accident today but its true General Williams is on base. I got a glimpse of her as she departed from her chopper. She got off last and looked like she was walking a bit funny. I bet that buffoon of a pilot bruised her up on the landing I’ll have to have a word with her. I can’t wait to speak with her she’s such an inspiration. Jul 24/25th What a disaster I… I don’t even know where to begin. Everything went to shit the morning after she arrived. I never thought it would actually happen but they got up the balls to hit us on our own base. They hit the hell out of us. They must have been planning this for a while because they actually breached the perimeter and fast. It started with a rocket volley I think and then I don’t even know it was such a whirlwind of noise and commotion. It was early morning breakfast was being served in the mess hall. My squad was about to meet up in a few minutes and grab some chow. When the commotion broke out we all kind of sprang into action wondering what the hell was going on. We ran out of the barracks immediately greeted by a hail of gunfire. Valerie and Jill kind of froze up not ready for the shock of being fired upon so early. I could tell they were doing their morning business in their pants. We all ducked behind a small retaining wall Lynch and Chambers had to help those two as they were mid bowel movement. The smell from those two was a bit distracting but we returned fire dropping quite a few of them. They had numbers on their side but after a while they started to fall back. We pressed them forward and saw precisely why they were falling back. Being dragged out of the building was General Williams in the hands of five or six of them. We were at a distance but through the scope of my rifle I will never forget the look of terror on her face and the darkened fabric of her urine stained pants. At that moment I learned she was no better than any of us. That sight put a damper on the squad but despite that and Valerie and Jill’s soiled condition we pushed on. They retreated into a slew of lightly armored improvised attack vehicles. I realized at that moment I was pretty wet as well. I didn’t even know it had happened or when it happened but I ignored it for now and we ran to the garage where we could get a vehicle to chase them down with. We weren’t going to let these bastards get away with this. We piled into the MRAP we had banged up the other day on patrol I was pissed and took the driver’s seat despite a few protests. I mean hey I’m not Michael Schumacher but I got passable marks on my field driving tests. Lynch rode navigator and the rest hopped in the back hoping to get a change while I drove. The MRAPs weigh I don’t know probably close to what a small moon does. All that armor plating isn’t light but they can still scoot. I didn’t have a problem catching up to them but running through the desert at full tilt didn’t make for a smooth ride we were getting pretty beat up. I don’t know who was manning the machine gun but the constant chugging of heavy machine gun fire was making short work of the fleeing trucks. I feel bad now but General Williams’s life was at stake. I learned later that Valerie and Jill couldn’t change because the ride was so rough. The just had to sit in their own soiled diaper getting thrown around in the back I’m sure the experience was less than pleasant. That is a condition we trained for though, it comes with the job. We chased them for I don’t know twenty minutes half an hour I’m not really sure. Regardless we followed them into the nearby city their forces were occupying and were greeted with a hail of small arms fire which the MRAP laughed at. Their tiny truck was a bit more nimble to say the least and we were losing ground smashing into everything in sight in the winding corridors that comprised their narrow streets. We rounded a corner in time to see a small group waiting for us rpg in hand. I screamed and admittedly started to panic as I lost control of more than just the vehicle. I shit my pullup badly. My stomach still hadn’t adjusted to shipping out and my accident just went everywhere. In the instant before the rocket hit I could feel just uhg… up towards my lower back, leaking out into my pants. The truck collided with a wall and was hit by the rocket and everything went black for me. The next thing I knew Lynch was dragging me out of the MRAP which was on its side as I came to. The deafening crack of gunfire quickly brought me to my senses as the rest of the squad was embroiled in covering fire as we moved from the crash site towards cover. Even through the adrenaline I could feel what a disaster I was. I had lost control of my bladder as well and my fatigues were soaked. My thighs were sticky, I smelled horrible and I didn’t even want to think about cleaning up in the field. I was out for maybe five minutes they weren’t sure exactly but apparently I had chased the truck into a dead end. As my head cleared he explained what was going on. After the crash the rest of the team neutralized the threats and pulled General Williams to safety in a nearby shop. I could see Joshua and Sienna firing at a few rooftops from under a nearby overhang. With Lynch’s help I was quickly inside and the other two that were outside slammed the doors shut behind us after a few moments. I could finally catch my breath not that the air inside was all that pleasant With Jill and Valerie just having had their shitty diaper changed. Astrid had her pants off as she finished tending to Jill and the discolored brown bulge was evident she was next in line. It was about that time I heard an unfamiliar voice from the other room and noticed Corporal Burton’s absence. Apparently he had drawn the short straw and had to deal with the inconsolable general. I pulled myself away from Lynch’s grasp and went to investigate the heated voices coming from the backroom. I caught angry snippets between the two. “General I need you to calm down…” “No I will not and you can’t make me!” “General please…” “I don’t care... I’m not! It’s not that bad!” To be honest it wasn’t how I pictured meeting my idol… shit trailing down my legs but I opened the door to find Corporal Burton at his wits end with General Williams who was being completely uncooperative. They were too embroiled in their argument to notice me opening the door. Jack saw me but the General’s back was too me giving me a look at her ruined pants. They were a mix of slacks and fatigues given to officers for wear while on base in a hot zone. I froze seeing she was no better off than I was. The inner legs of her pants were still wet from her loss of bladder control and the rear was sagging the fabric wrinkled and stretched taught by the weight of her own excrement. “I’m not wearing that!” she was pointing at one of the girly standard issue pullups that we had as part of our field kit. “Those are for children!” When she said that I blushed heavily knowing something nearly Identical underneath my stained fatigues. “No… they are for women who piss and shit themselves like you General.” He said getting rather flippant with her. “N…No I do not! It’s not that bad…” she whined despite the obvious which made me think of myself, do I whine so childishly when one of them tries to change me? He was only a Corporal so I guess I can understand when lost his temper with her. He bellowed at her and I could tell he was pissed. “You’ve shit yourself, badly… You’re already in violation of the Code of Continence section 17: All officers must wear protection with absorbency equal to or greater than standard issue while in a combat zone.” She froze hearing him quote the rules at her I didn’t really know what to say either. “I’m already going to have to report you for one violation now does it have to be more Fiona J Williams!” At the sound of her full name stripped of her title I could have sworn I saw her body flinch and her muscle quiver before the bulge in her pants grew slightly. In this situation he had every right to call her by her name but her response was less than pleasant and she started cursing. “What the hell did you just call me corporal I am a General!” she spat back before going into a tirade about years in service, respecting senior officers and more; jabbing her finger at him accusatorily. He was quick, General William’s wasn’t aware of Burton’s high close quarter’s combat scores. He grabbed her by the wrist and shoved her forward bending her over the desk before quickly undoing her pants and yanking them down. She wore a set of lacy black… well they were black but now smudged with brown pair of silken panties most certainly against the rules to wear without at least some kind of absorbent pad in them. It started suddenly, he spanked her… hard. After the first hit came another and another right on the seat of her bulging panties. It’s a maneuver saved for only the most unruly soldiers, it was humiliating, degrading but I couldn’t avert my eyes. My personal hero was being spanked after pooping her pants at the hands of a corporal. With all the famed rumors about her I never expected her to act like this… I didn’t really know what to think so I just kind of stood there dumbfounded and watched as he delivered thwap after thwap with a faint squish each time. It didn’t take long for her to be reduced to tears and I admit if I had anything left in my bladder I would have wet myself from the sound. Once he deemed her compliant enough he removed her ruined panties and tossed them aside. There was no cleaning them after such a bad accident. General Williams just stood there sniffling her body trembling every so often as he set about the laborious task of cleaning her up. Soon enough though she was clean and her pulled up a snug fitting standard issue garment around her hips letting the crinkly elastic snap into place. Her pants were a loss too… he tried to clean them but it would have taken a good source of running water to really get them wearable again and instead tossed a spare set at her from the field changing kit. I was next and truth be told I was more than glad to get out of my full diaper. I know some of the more…”interesting” comrades don’t mind it but I have that sticky heavy disgusting feeling after I pooped my pants… uhg. After her little tantrum I wasn’t in any mood to protest and she walked out past me blushing hard when she realized she had an audience. Burton cleaned me up well enough… he may not quite have the tender touch that Lynch does but I thanked him and fortunately my pants were salvageable if not a little clammy after cleaning them. Ten minutes later we regrouped in the main room of the abandon store. Lynch explained what was going on, the base was still dealing with all that happened and a few pockets of resistance were still active on the base. They wouldn’t be able to extract us until later. We just had to sit tight until further notice. General Williams looked utterly nonplussed about the fact she was stuck out here for an indeterminate amount of time. Valerie pulled out a deck of cards while Williams volunteered to keep watch excusing herself from the group and we entertained ourselves playing cards joking about the few times we’d played strip poker and ended up showing off our huggies. While under normal circumstances I think some of them would have just used their diapers out of convenience we had a small supply of spares and I am proud to write that we all made it to the toilet for the rest of the day. Even General William’s who seemed quite shaken hiding out in the middle of an enemy occupied city didn’t require a change; Burton was sure to check. One person traded off and was always keeping watch General Williams didn’t join us playing cards not that I blame her with how she acted earlier. Quarter after six we were radioed, they had our position and they’d send a convey tomorrow morning. It would be another twelve hours before we were picked up. We started dozing off and rounded off shifts so we could sleep. I was asleep and Lynch was on watch when we were all woken up by the sound of men speaking outside while Lynch shook us all awake. We all scrambled behind the counter ready in case they spotted us. The door opened and we all held our breath as a single set of boots slowly tromped inside none of us could seem him but we could hear the slow thump of methodic steps and see the gleam of a flashlight. Someone had given General William’s a sidearm and she clutched it trembling. The footsteps grew louder crunching over broken glass as he slowly walked by the front of the counter. I don’t know how he didn’t see us. On my left was the General and I could see her suddenly freeze as I heard a faint hissing. The unmistakable sound of pee hitting the fabric of a pullup. The General completely wet herself unable to handle the stress of the situation. I’ll admit I dribbled a bit as well but I was starting to wonder how the hell Decorated General Fiona Williams received the Gold Juliet Medal of Competency. He finally left deciding the shop was empty enough and we collectively let out a sigh of relief that our cover wasn’t blown. She wasn’t the only one to wet herself though. Sienna and Jill both soaked themselves but with few remaining changes we mulled it over. We decided to wait to change with still quite a few hours before pickup if one of had a bowel accident we wanted to make sure we had a change available. I was glad we did because not three hours later I woke up with my insides feeling like they were on fire. My stomach churned and cramped. I couldn’t move without feeling like I was going to throw up or shit myself. All I could do was hunch over and pull my knees to my chest and hoped the feeling passed. It started as what I prayed was a bit of gas that would make me feel better. It wasn’t just gas and I think I knew that but at that point I didn’t care. I pushed and it came rushing out of me. It was horrible, the watery diarrhea immediately filled my pullup with a soupy muck not to mention overflowing the leg guards and staining my pants badly. Somewhere in the throes of my repulsive bowel movement my overfull bladder decided I hadn’t had enough humiliation and decided to leave me sitting in a hot puddle of pee and liquid poop. I even started sniffling trying my best not to cry. I’m just glad Lynch was still on watch. He helped me up and carried me to the backroom so my pants would get even more stained though after two blowouts they were ruined. He was a little disapproving that I’d had two complete accidents but I can’t really blame him. I should have done better, I was disappointed with myself but soon enough I was clean again although I didn’t really want to put my pants back on. They were starting to smell of poop but I didn’t really have a choice. That’s all that happened to me although the next morning we got a message from hq saying to be ready for extraction. We were all up and a small line had formed for the bathroom and General Williams was at the end of the line. She was still wearing her pissy pullup from the previous night. I guess she just couldn’t hold it long enough to make it and I watched her clutch her stomach and hunch over slightly when it happened. There’s a sound that it makes and I don’t know how to describe it but it’s like a wet popping… or a crackling… I don’t know really but that’s the sound you make when you poop yourself and for her it was no different. I could see the seat of her pants stretched tautly against the padding of her wet pullup puff out slowly. She quivered and clenched her fists before it looked like she pushed. I don’t know but a moment later she was standing normally if not red in the face from having done her business in her pants again. Joshua laughed noticing what she was doing which earned him a stern glare. Now that she wasn’t freaking out though she insisted on changing herself and stormed off to the backroom where we had been disposing of our used undergarments. Just like that an armored convoy picked us up just like they said and we were whisked back to base. What a way to come back to deployment. July 27th Yesterday was an offday because of what we went through. Mostly just hanging out getting checked up by the base medical staff to ensure we were ok. General Williams was nowhere to be seen though, I knew she was still on base. I think she just wanted a day to recover and hide out in her quarters but what do I know. Anyway, the whole squad got called out to the training grounds and to my surprise she was waiting for us there with a sharp scowl on her face. She began going on about how we were rusty, we should have intercepted her capture sooner all sorts of nonsense. I mean we saved her the least we could have gotten was a thank you but she just lectured us for a good while before blowing the whistle that was around her neck leading us into drills mercilessly. I was glad to be wearing protection as the sudden loud noise made me pee a little bit soon that was the least of my worries. She was a real slave driver but it quickly became clear she was going hardest on Burton. My hero, my idol turned out to be a petulant vindictive child. It sucked but it really got me thinking if I’d been harder on some especially those in my squad because they were just following orders, trying to help me even if at the time I didn’t want it. The extended vigorous drills resulted in several leaking and messy diapers that direly needed changing. Given what she’d done the previous day I thought she would have been a bit more sympathetic. Jill, Sienna and Astrid had all messed themselves and were having a hell of a time keeping up. I had avoided emptying my bowels narrowly a few times along with Valerie but after most of the morning I was utterly soaked. Every so often I could feel dribbles of piss running down my legs but still we weren’t allowed to change despite my protests. I even quoted standard allotted changing time and the maximum time a female can be kept from changing after soiling herself but she ignored me. Mercifully our drills were cut short when a nearby construction crew fired up their equipment. They were repairing the damage done to perimeter defenses. The sudden noise of the extremely loud equipment startled the lot of us. Valerie completely lost it and the small damp half-moon crescent stains on her pants quickly spread down her legs as her bladder let go while she simultaneously vacated her bowels. I only wet myself! I mean it’s still humiliating to feel the warmth of your own piss running down your legs because your pullup is too soaked to absorb anything more but I didn’t poop my pants like everyone else even General Williams! Like I was saying “training” was cut short because I think she shit herself when she was startled, serves her right for working us like dogs. She didn’t admit anything but I could tell, we all could. The blush on her face the slightly awkward stance post facto we knew and I couldn’t help but smirk she was standing with full pants and I had only wet myself. She quickly made up some excuse and walked off doing the “I’m pretending there’s nothing wrong and I haven’t pooped my pants” walk. We were exhausted by that point and stumbled back to quarters. Poor Astrid and Jill had a hell of a diaper rash from that but fortunately we didn’t see any more of her that day. July 28th We had a patrol scheduled today looked pretty routine but I got a request to report to a council hearing. I was a bit puzzled as they usually tended to disciplinary action. I hadn’t even had breakfast yet but I dragged myself out of bed and threw on clothes. It was a short trudge across base and I couldn’t help but feel it had something to do with General Williams. When I entered the room it was quickly made clear. Corporal Burton was there at one desk and across the other room a rather irritated General Fiona J Williams. As his superior officer I was called in to corroborate his accusations against the general as such issues as abuse of rank wasn’t to be taken lightly. He had reported her for unfairly punishing the squad for what was in her eyes a less than acceptable performance. Not only that but she was singling him out for the discipline he gave her when he had been forced to change her into a diaper in the field. Retaliating against a subordinate officer for suspending the chain of command during a bout of female incontinence is strictly against policy and if found guilty she’d be in a fair bit of trouble. The proceedings started like any other, I’d been part of a few before, harassment, subpar performance and a few others. In a strange twist of fight I now found myself backing up Burton’s stories condemning the actions of the woman who I had modeled my entire military career after. The longer the case went on the clearer it became that General William’s hadn’t acted appropriately. I was watching for most of the time I guess out of morbid curiosity. I watched her expression change from when I arrived aloof irritation, to finish wide eyed apprehension. Just like that the gavel banged and the council decision was announced. “Conduct unbecoming an officer in her position.” As well as “Unfair treatment of a subordinate for acts performed in the line of duty.” The council talked amongst themselves of which I caught bits and pieces before addressing the three of us once again. The lecture they gave her was harsh but from the sounds of it well deserved. It wasn’t the first time she had the accusations brought against her but this was the first time there was enough evidence to actually enforce a punishment. After the stern lecture about treating someone with respect especially once they’ve changed your soiled undergarments for you they finally got to her punishment. She was blushing fiercely as they reminded her of her lack of control and even I recalled my little outburst the other day on patrol in the MRAP and blushed. “General Fiona J Williams, for your less than satisfactory behavior regarding Corporal Burton using his right to suspend the chain of command to deal with an extreme bout of your own incontinence. For the rest of your stay on base you will be required to wear maximum protection undergarments. During the first week the latrine is off limit and you will report to Corporal Burton for any change that is required. If he reports a change in your attitude we will consider how the remainder of your punishment will go, dismissed.” She looked understandably horrified and tried to protest earning only silent glares from the council. Jack couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the outcome but I don’t think he really knew what he was getting into. Nobody really liked maximum protection garments. As bad as standard issue was at least they were the pullup kind. They crinkled loudly, they were thick, plasticy, uncomfortable and obvious under your pants. For a competency medal winner it was the ultimate step backwards. The three of us departed and I had little desire to watch him force her into a diaper. I also had to deal with my currently soaked pullup. I didn’t get a chance to go in the morning after I dressed and well the sudden bang of the gavel made me spring a leak. I didn’t want to react obviously in the meeting so I just kind of let it happen. I tried to stop it but without hunching over and jamming my hands between my legs I couldn’t keep from wetting myself. I’m just glad it didn’t leak all over the chair in there. The soggy padding hugging my hips was at least warm which made the walk back a bit more bearable. July 28th Cross Referenced Journal entry from Corporal Jack Burton I couldn’t help but smirk a little at the outcome. I mean she deserved every bit of it. She had no right to treat us the way she did because she was embarrassed she’d acted like a toddler in front of us. I was just following the rules and what did I get, whispered threats every time I passed her and merciless drills. When her punishment came out I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. I didn’t join the Rangers to just change shitty diapers but oh well, the sheepish look on the face of a general was worth it. She had lost all of her bluster when we left. Killian left just the two of us and I escorted her to the medical wing to pickup her new “underwear” Opening a pack I pulled one out with a chuckle and motioned for her to get up on the bed so I could change her. She opened her mouth to speak but just kind of froze. I could tell she wanted to slap me or curse at me but instead what came out was a mewling request to use the restroom before she was confined to wearing her restroom. I guess she normally did her business in the morning and rules were rules so I told her to just use her pants and I’d clean her up. If looks could kill I would have been incinerated on the spot. I just stood and waited for her to decide. Wasting a perfectly good diaper didn’t make any sense, at least I gave her the chance to get cleaned up as soon as she did it. She snapped at me and angrily spat back “Fine” realizing she had little choice before she started taking off her boots. For a woman who didn’t have any problem using her pants as a bathroom in the heat of combat watching her intentionally trying to soil herself was extremely amusing. She squirmed and wriggled and clenched her fists scrunching her face even grunt a few times before it finally happened. It started as a faint blossoming wetness which soon spread down the legs of her pants discoloring the fabric before splashing onto the floor puddling at her feet. Her relief and humiliation was palpable as she emptied her bowels as well. She still had her eyes shut tightly as the seat of her pants started to sag as a doughy mass slowly settled into her panties with a wet crackling noise. Once she started it didn’t take her long to finish and soon enough she was done. With a small grunt she finished pushing and stood awkwardly in front of my once again in very full pants. The whole room smelt of her “accident” and she glared at me blushing hotly. Never have I met another woman who could be so humiliated but still melt you with an angry glare at the same time. I don’t know what she was thinking but the next act was just so childish I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. She removed her pants once again exposing a lovely set of silken underpants now heavily soiled barely containing her feces within and sort of hopped on the table deliberately sitting in it. She purposefully attempted to make my job less pleasant by sitting in her own shit and then demanded I clean her up. I snapped at her when she did that calling her a petulant child and a whole slew of other things. When it became clear however I wasn’t going to clean her up before I put her in a diaper she quickly realized the error of her ways. I put the diaper on over her messy panties knowing that pair would need to be thrown away. She pleaded with me to change her first but I knew if I caved she’d walk all over me for the rest of her discipline. She may be a general but I’m not going to make exceptions just for her rank. I told her to come find me when her diaper needed changing and left after calling out to the nurse telling her that the general had a bit of an accident in her pants and needed a new pair. July28th cross referenced diary entry from General Fiona J Williams That irritating, crass, crude, insufferable corporal; How could they rule in his favor?! I am a General! I’m going to record every single thing he does and get him discharged once this is all over with. He made me… soil myself and then just put the diaper over my panties. Guidelines clearly state that underwear is not allowed to be worn over or under protective garments. He also intentionally called out to that nurse saying I’d had an accident and intentional humiliation of a superior officer for the condition of her fatigues is also against guidelines! The smirking look that nurse gave me when she took away my wet pants… I need to remember to get her name and report her too. Only one more week of reporting to him… I can do this. Uhg I still haven’t gotten that change from him but I really don’t want to see his face anymore. Everytime I sit or move around I can feel my own waste pressing against me and the panties just make it worse… damnit I liked this pair too but now they’re beyond ruined. I want the cost of these panties deducted from his pay!
  2. So this is a little scifi setting I've been mulling around the past month or so. This is one of two projects. One is yet to be posted and an actual piece of fiction. This is an interactive story done in a disco channel so while it does have the length it's a little rough but thoroughly enjoyable thus far. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjsemNhze7U Allow me to set the scene, to paint the canvas through which we will accompany our poor heroine. A small piece of music to help illustrate my vision of a corporate neon future. The San Angeles Metroplex or more commonly known as SANAM City. The remnants of the western North American Seaboard reformed on the temperate coast after the event... Everyone knows the event, it the world a chance to start over for better or worse. At a time during which the Earth's poles were reversing leaving the magnetosphere at a mere fraction of it’s strength the sun’s activity spiked. A devastating coronal mass ejection event started it all. Satellite’s circuitry fused in an instant, even the most hardened of communication systems ground to a halt with the interference generated by the petawatts of energy released upon the earth. High voltage transmission lines that made everyday living and the technology we relied on blew when the transformers melted, substations detonated from the ambient currents rippling through the atmosphere. Drives in all but the luckiest or most shielded locations were erased in a flash. The solar activity persisted and the power… stayed off. Governments crumbled, populations evaporated but as we are a tenacious species we carried on despite the adversity. The prevalence of nuclear reactors in the midwest and east coast left much of north america uninhabitable and a combination of factors made those who survived flock to the west coast. A temperate climate, the vast Pacific ocean, fertile farm ground and of course a lack of skin searing radiation which is a bonus. What little power structure survived was in the form of multinational corporations. Slowly they assumed control, provided stability, order. It wasn’t perfect but it was something. But enough of that history lesson. Some people don’t even believe that’s what really happened. With such limited electronic records from the time numerous wild conspiracy theories fill the net. Crime, drugs, technology and a thin facade of corporate order holding it all together. Welcome to Sanam city. Flashy advertisements line the streets projecting holo images. Far above ground level the ultralux jet about in their aircars looking down on those below stuck using wheeled transportation. Cybernetic implants enhance everyday life helping with every task imaginable. The sky is the limit when it comes to augmentation and if you can dream it up and have the credit for it… Therein came the problem. As with any foreign object certain precautions had to be taken to ensure the body’s white blood cells don’t attack and reject it. The latest iteration from PharmaTek of their ubiquitous acceptance cocktail Serum5 has been all the rage. Used in surgery it is combined with a potent anesthetic which makes it a favorite to smoke as well often sold by less than scrupulous doctors on the side looking for a little bit of extra cash. What nobody was expecting was the drastic side effects that accompanied the new revision. It wreaked havoc with the parasympathetic nervous system but only with those who had a XX chromosome pairing. The effects were almost instantaneous. Females everywhere began to experience the symptoms. Increased appetites, lacrimation, drooling and worst of all what looked like an inexplicable onset of incontinence like effects stemming from much more sensitive sphincter muscles. Nobody knew how to deal with it and information was scarce. PharmaTek slicers worked round the clock to expunge any questions confused and concerned women raised on the net. Doctors were paid off to look the other way and attribute such incidents up to stress but it was growing too big to cover up. With no fix insight and dollar signs in their eyes a pivot was made. After the first month past and the effects have spread to most if not all of the female population. Feminine incontinence wear sprang up practically overnight. Adverts and product campaigns in an effort to normalize and profit off of their own screwup. PharmaTek still hasn’t owned what it has done but profits are higher than ever now with it’s subdivisions devoting entire production lines to incontinence wear. Two months have passed since Serum5 hit the streets and the troubling issues brought with it are still fresh in everyone’s mind. Not everyone is accepting their fate laying down! Some still strive towards a cure to the sudden onset of symptoms but others resigned themselves to a life of ‘protection’. A song played in the early hours of the morning. The greenish hue of the fading Aurora Centralis besieged by the distant rising sun. “Just five more minutes.” a groggy voice calls out from underneath a set of expensive silken sheets. “Ms Blackstar, it is unsanitary to sleep in your own urine. This is the third night in a row you have urinated in your bedding. I advise an appointment with the company clinic. I scheduled an appointment for thursday of this week.” the ‘helpful’ computerized assistant spoke. “and I would advise using the restroom before bed.” it said almost as if it was mocking her. Her cheeks turned red as she slowly woke up. It was right… the clammy cool feeling of soaked sheets clung to her skin. “Nnnngggg not again!” she growled, wrinkling her nose at the smell of piss. She’d have to do laundry again. “Just… cancel the appointment and deactivate.” she said, obviously in no mood to be discussing her problem. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed her scowl only deepened seeing the huge damp splotch covering her bottom sheet and having soaked her pajamas. She pinched the bridge of her nose before her fingers in frustration before forcing herself to trudge to the bathroom. A shower would help, she’d have to strip the sheets again. This was getting real old… the past month had been chaos. Women under her command calling out sick having unfortunate… accidents and even having more than a few close calls herself including one afternoon in the office where after a mad scramble towards the restroom she’d ended up just yanking her skirt up and pissing through her panties. Everyone just said it was ‘something going around’ but what kind of cold did this? She’d seen one of the company doctors but he fed her some line of bullshit. Sounded like he was reading a script, told her to make sure she got some rest maybe take some time off. It didn’t sit right with her and now it seemed to be getting worse. She was wetting her bed again! A PrivSec agent should not being doing that… no less a PrivSec field commander! What kind of person wanted to hire security from someone who couldn’t stop wetting themselves… or worse? A hot shower helped ease her mind, it always did. Her morning routine fell into place with a few extra additions to accommodate her little bedwetting incident. A brush through her long black hair, a faint dusting of makeup followed by her sharp grey suit. It wasn’t her field outfit but she could change into that later if necessary. Most corporate jobs had been little more than babysitting lately which… with all the issues she was facing wasn’t exactly a bad thing. The door to her more than modest apartment opened and shut behind her as she exited towards the carpark. Even the low level grunts at PrivSec were payed relatively well. It wasn’t a bad outfit to work for if you didn’t mind turning blind eye on occasion to some of the less than moral contracts. Her implants hummed away taking care of minor tasks like opening her car door and making sure her apartment’s security system was armed. Unlike much of the tech on the street her implants were all top notch, designed not to stand out, not to raise attention. At first glance one would never even notice she was auged except for the faint glowing ring her pupils. Another benefit of being employed by PrivSec, implants related to your job function were provided at a heavy discount and doctor’s services were waived as long as it was installed inhouse. An executive black sedan waited for her. Living in a better part of SANAM city meant most of the other vehicles around hers were similar but all it took was driving a couple of miles in the wrong direction and the rolling scrap heaps people called cars would surround her vehicle. The coffee warmed her throat as she greedily sucked it down taking a seat on the fine leather. Sunlight was just starting to wash over the sprawling city, not that it was ever really dark anymore. Not with the aurora and the constant advertisements. The car’s engine fired to life with the raucous bark of a powerful cold start before falling into a smooth rumble. Before she could set off an advertisement chimed in through the av unit the holographic image of what could only be described as a child’s diaper appearing. “Now available to women everywhere the revolutionary Huggies Titan with color changing indic...” the advert went on before she bellowed angrily. “Turn that shit off!” she spat. People weren’t actually buying this garbage were they? She could feel the satin grasp of the panties she wore underneath her suit and blushed at the thought of wearing something so ridiculous. With an angry stab of the throttle she set off into the city’s early morning bustle. She continued to sip her coffee and catch up on the news as she drove moving from light to light. She liked to get to the office early. That gave her a chance to pick her assignment before other field commanders might choose a contract she wanted. She was getting close to the office, an uneventful drive thus far. Traffic had been heavier than normal but not too bad. She’d still be on time but… something caught the corner of her eye. Out the side window down a littered alley she spotted two bangers. Two hoods to whatever local gang was around working over some guy pretty good. A man and a woman both wearing a black hoodie with some neon colors on the back. “Low life parasites...” she sneered, her hand moving towards the large sidearm holstered under her suit jacket. She gave a sidelong glance at the time in her ocular implant. She could stop this, save that poor guy do a small act of good in a city that so often lacked it but… if she got out and approached those two punks who knows how long it could take or how risky it could be to approach them. What if they had backup? Most days she would have just driven by barely sparing a glance. Maybe it was everything that had been going on giving her a little bit of perspective but fed up as she was she wasn’t about to let this shit just happen. “Fuck it.” she glanced at the time, it would be cutting it close but… an outlet for her frustrations sounded just like what she needed. The door opened and with a hiss and the driver behind her layed on the horn to which she responded with a steely glare and a flash of her middle finger. The car’s door shut behind her and the automated driver took over shuttling the vehicle out of the roadway while she took care of business per se. The simplest way to clock a concealed weapon but not always the most accurate, a quick thermal scan. A quick change of her vision mode to thermal. The woman was wearing a pair of brass knuckles and from the rough outline the man looked to have a small firearm tucked into his waistband. Probably some piece of shit polymer printed illegal knockoff. The yellows and reds faded from her vision as she returned to normal sight. “Hey!” she barked at them already drawing the large caliber handgun from underneath her shoulder. Her other hand already flashing her PrivSec badge as she approached. A PrivSec agent was not someone you wanted to run up against. The two paused kicking the brutalized man and for a moment there was a calm in the alley punctuated by a groan of pain. At 5’10” Emelie Blackstar wasn’t exactly a small woman and in the small heels she wore around the office she crested six feet tall. The two seemed unimpressed by her stature or her badge and the young girl maybe early twenties spoke up first. “Oh come up we’re just showing our friend what happens when you mess with us.” she said. Her mouth was hidden underneath a bandana but she sounded like she was grinning, the smug little bitch. “Yeah, this ain’t some corpoRAT security detail so why don’t you fuck off.” her partner in crime spat with a laugh. The pair had balls but that wasn’t liable to count for much with a piece of serious hardware leveled at you. “Why don’t you go put on a show for some ultralux, whore.” the girl mocked. Her brightly dyed blue hair framed her face falling out from under her hood. Emelie just wanted to knock her teeth in. So far she had shown restraint but these two… her finger twitched moving from the trigger guard to the trigger. As his accomplice spoke he made his move reaching for his concealed weapon. He never even managed to draw it from his waistband before she fired the first shot. A deafening crack echoed in the alley, her aural implants attenuating the sound protecting her hearing. Another crack as she fired a second time, each crack of gunfire accompanied by the satisfying metal snap of the slide racking back ejecting the spent cartridge. Five shots directly center mass splattering the ground behind him with a red mist. He slumped over instantly. The woman’s eyes were as wide as saucers when she saw the agent storming towards her gun still in hand. “You should have listened to me. Your little friend here was about to come at me with an illegal piece. Now you’ll be on the hook for murder.” she said with a smirk as she grabbed the woman by the collar and shoved her against back against the wall. “N...no please… please just… just let me go.” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. She narrowed her eyes jamming the hot muzzle of her gun straight against the woman’s throat. A small mercy she was wearing a bandanna but that would be the least of her problems should she decide to pull the trigger. She pinned her against the wall with her forearm using her hand to yank down the bandanna getting a good look at her face analyzing the expression. “Genuine remorse...” she said as she loosened her grip finally hearing the sound of running water. It was faint but noticeable with her enhanced hearing. She let her go taking a step back. “You… no… don’t tell me...” giving a look of disgust at the distraught girl glancing down expecting to see a growing wet splotch rushing down her ripped at the knee jeans but nothing… Something clicked in her mind. That damned advertisement she’d heard earlier. A quick flash back to thermal vision showed her everything she needed to know. The glowing yellow radiant heat all around her groin. “Show some backbone, christ are you actually wearing one of those… things?” she couldn’t even bring herself to say the word. “And stop crying!” she snapped at her waving her gun nonchalantly. “I… I can’t stop!” she said defensively, wiping her eyes. “and… and I didn’t even feel it.” the girl mumbled averting her gaze. The agent was disgusted but at the same time morbidly curious. “Let me see it.” she found herself saying. The woman blushed furiously, as if admitting to having pissed herself was embarrassing enough now this deranged woman wanted to see… her… diaper? “You can’t be serious!” she balked. “Just fucking do it and then get your ass out of here. I don’t want to waste anymore ammo today.” she threatened. The color drained from her face and her hands fumbled with her pants quickly yanking them down mid thigh exposing the sodden garment. It was just like that damn advert had described. Thick, swollen with urine the cutesy prints faded when she’d wet it. “Get out of my sight.” she said coldly, jamming the firearm back into her holster. Tapping her finger to her ear for a moment walking towards the end of the alley leaving the surreal scene behind her. She combed her fingers through her hair as the operator came on through her implant. “No… the emergency is passed.” she said to the emergency dispatch. “No… just… listen. PrivSec agent ID 37489 just send an officer down. Some little shit came at me with a piece of knockoff tech… No I won’t wait at the scene. Yes, whatever just send the paperwork to the office.” she said tersely ending the call. Walking along the sidewalk leaving the alley she called her car remotely tracking its crawl through traffic as it homed in on her location. She winced, feeling that familiar pang of growing urgency. That coffee… she should have known it would go right through her. She took a deep breath and pinched her thighs together before pressing on ignoring the sensation. “Damn autodrive… could it have found a farther parking spot!” she groused still waiting for her car to appear in the seemingly endless flow of traffic. Finally after another few minutes it slowly pulled up along side her as she strolled casually through the dingy streets gratefully getting into the passenger door when it slid open. “Get me to the office.” she said taking a somewhat stiff sitting posture, tapping her foot against the carpeting. “Uhg, I’m going to be late I knew I should have kept going.” she complained. Truthfully she would only be perhaps five minutes or so late but she had a feeling the better assignments would already be taken by the time she arrived. The rest of the drive was fortunately less eventful and though she resisted the urge to jam her hand between her legs thinking herself better than that she certainly wanted to. There it was, finally; the PrivSec building. A massive obsidian obelisk in a sea of concrete and glass superstructures. The car could park itself allowing her to take a deep breath and depart. She walked quickly into the looming building passing through the requisite security checkpoints verifying both biometric and implant locks along the way. She could feel her muscles quivering as she stood in the elevator forcing herself not to squirm. The very muscles threatening to send a torrential downpour straight into her uniform. Finally the bell chimed and her floor was revealed through the maglevetator. She let out a sigh of relief and departed heading straight towards the restroom. Approaching her from the other side of the hall was a man clad in a pinstriped black suit. Her stomach dropped, it was her boss… “You’re late Blackstar.” his gravely voice called out. He was holding a folder in his hands… was he just fucking waiting for her? Hagar that little micromanaging prick! This was bad… what if he got off on some tangent and started lecturing her or what if he wanted to talk mission parameters… She just wanted to piss! Of course he was waiting for her today of all days. She groaned as he approached her feeling uncomfortably full. It was getting urgent but she’d be fine… she was simply feeling a little concerned and rightfully so with what had been happening lately. The worry came from the twitchy sensation between her legs. She took a deep breath and focused, forcing herself to stand up straight her professional shoes clacking against the floor as she closed the distance. “Just a little distraction on the way to the office… you know how it is.” she said dismissively; having decided to address him first before running off. Ignoring her boss… not a smart move. “Actually, I don’t. The police report came in. It’s waiting on your desk for a signature. If you want to be a hero do it on your own time.” he said. She raised her eyebrow folding her arms over her chest shifting from one foot to another. “Priority B mission.” he said thrusting the folder at her. That must have been why he was in a less than jovial mood. She took the folder holding it under her arm already slowly beginning to circle around him. Normally the two had a good working relationship and on a small handful of occasions met for a few drinks and some extra curricular activities. Given the rigid corporate environment sleeping with a subordinate was not exactly smiled upon. It gave her a little bit of leverage with him but she knew if she really tried to pull that card he would most certainly take her down with him. “Priority B? I’ll take a look at it in a minute.” she said already beginning to look away. He sighed “You know the rules, we’ve got to go over mission parameters. This is an ultralux heavy hitter.” he began. “I said in a minute okay so unless you want me pissing all over the floor meet me in my damn office in five minutes!” she snapped at him shooting him a dangerous look. That didn’t stop him from quietly snickering and raising his hands in defense. “Fine fine, five minutes.” he said, watching her walk. “Oh and get me a danish from the coffee room… no, two. I’m fucking famished.” she said rubbing her stomach. “Fuck…” she hissed under his breath clenching her fists as she quickly walked towards the bathroom. Fortunately he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as he let on, just stressed at getting a priority B mission. Her cursing might come up later but he usually let her slide except for the few times he mentioned it in her damn yearly review but that’s another story! Finally the bathroom was in sight. She had just been joking about pissing all over the floor but seeing the bathroom so close suddenly seemed to make the urge even stronger. Her bladder spasmed but she didn’t feel anything and with a burst of speed she darted forward throwing caution to the wind as she threw open the bathroom door and hurried inside. Small mercy it was empty. The door locked automatically behind her giving her the privacy to attend to her rather pressing needs. She tossed the file haphazardly onto the granite counter; her hands were already fumbling with the front of her pants as she bounced from foot to foot. The sight of the toilet right in front of her making the need to go even worse. In a swift motion she yanked down her pants accompanied by her panties letting her head lull back with a moan of relief that was shortly drown out by the gushing noisy hiss. Blissful relief and she’d made it not like the other week which still made her flush with embarrassment. Pissing through her panties as she sat on the toilet, her a grown woman of twenty-nine, a PrivSec agent no less! The coffee having stimulated another urge she gave a push and finished her morning evacuation with an unladylike series of noises. She frowned, the urge had come on so fast and the strange sensations. She was growing concerned. At first she had tried to chalk it up to coincidence… and the first doctor had told her it was just stress but these close calls and then her wet sheets. “Fuck...” she said when her eyes finally rested on the gusset of her panties. There was a telltale damp splotch and a faint wet streak that ran down the inseam of her pants. “Fuck!” she cursed again loudly slamming her fist against the wall. Tears started to well in her eyes. “What the fuck… why am I crying!” she howled even more angry than before. It took a few seconds to calm down, but she did. Wiping her eyes to stave off the unbidden tears and squirming when the bidet triggered she was ready to start her day. She approached the mirror, a news feed of various stories scrolling through down one side. The water turned on automatically and she washed her hands, meticulously drying them before straightening out her coat making sure she was composed once again. “Get it the fuck together.” She told her reflection grabbing the folder from the counter. Emelie marched out of the bathroom back towards her office, stomach growling with ravenous hunger. He was waiting for her sitting across from her desk and as requested with two pastries and another cup of coffee were waiting for her. He was holding one palm up a holographic image projecting up as he casually checked his mail whilst waiting for her. The projection faded as he heard her enter and he cleared his throat. “Good morning Em, I didn’t mean to be sharp with you it’s just well you know… priority B.” he began, flashing a charismatic smile. “Yeah yeah, just don’t make it a habit.” She teased tossing the folder onto her desk, lowering herself into her cushy office chair. “So this mission, what are doing doing?” she began, reaching for the folder as he implants synced with the holoprojectors mounted in her desk. He intercepted her movements first. Before she could open the file he put his hand on top, a look of concern on his face. “Before that…” he began somewhat hesitantly. “Are you… doing okay?” he asked. The gesture of sympathy caught her by surprise. Of course they had a close working relationship but in the office he had always kept her at an arm’s reach. Analyzing his facial expressions with her implant she looked him over for ulterior motives; concern, unease, apprehension… amusement followed by a long list of potential false positives. ‘Fucking asshole would be amused by the situation’ but perhaps that was a little harsh she thought. Likely he was doing the exact same thing, scanning her reaction. Fuck it was tempting, to just talk about what had been happening lately. It seemed he was genuinely concerned, her only worry was as her boss he might take anything she said to the medical department. “Look you don’t have to tell me anything… I just know a lot of weird stuff has been going on the past few weeks… not specifically with you I mean” He said using an innocuous euphemism. She had a feeling she knew exactly what he meant by weird stuff. She took a large bite out of one of the pastries mulling it over. He was the closest thing to a friend she had in PrivSec. It was weird, everyone seemed to at least on some level know that something was wrong… but no one was talking about it probably too embarrassed to be the first to say something. It was easier to just carry on and pretend everything was normal despite a few extra loads of laundry. Even the few times she did a quick search of the net there were no hits leaving her thinking she was the only one suffering such issues or it was just all in her head. The raven haired agent looked at him, washing down the pastry with a gulp of coffee She set the cup of aromatic caffeinated liquid down staring at it for a moment before returning her gaze to his. Narrowing her eyes she pointed at him “This doesn’t leave this room and so help me god if you laugh… I’ve already shot one person today.” She threatened with a menacing tone. He shook his head giving her a look “Who am I going to tell?” he casually brushed away her concerns. Emelie rubbed her face with her hands massaging her temples. “I’m doing… well not exactly bad but…” she began, pausing as her cheeks started to blush red with embarrassment. “Have you noticed all those stupid adverts from the PharmaTek subdivisions?” she said, seeming to suddenly nonsequitor to another topic. He gave her a confused look before it clicked. “Sort of… not really though. So much of those ads are targeted by implant id.” He said, having a vague idea of what she was talking about. “I thought it was crazy… I mean they look like baby diapers with those prints and everything. I thought what kind of self respecting woman would wear -that-.” She continued, slowly getting back to her point. “One of those bangers I ran into this morning. She was wearing one… totally pissed herself.” She said before he interjected. “Well… you did gun down her running partner in front of her with that hand cannon of yours.” He said with a chuckle which earned him a sharp look. “And I held it to her neck but that’s not the point. Sorry… I’m rambling a bit.” She said shaking her head using the momentary silence to take another bite of her pastry. “I started wetting the bed…” she finally forced herself to admit. “You… what?” he said blankly, blinking a few times. “You heard me dick, don’t make me repeat it!” She said feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. “Once last week… and now three nights in a row.” She elaborated with a sheepish tone. It was what he had asked about but hearing it actually come from her mouth just made it seem even more outlandish. His mouth hung open slightly. “I see.” He said pensively, quickly composing himself. “Yeah… and I’ve had a few close calls during the day.” She said, the concern evident in her voice. “This morning?” he asked. She shook her head. “Not quite, close but I could have held it. I just didn’t want to risk it.” “Understandable… it could be worse though.” He said which earned him another sharp look. “How…” she said bluntly. He scratched the perfectly trimmed stubble along his square cut jaw. “I’m not going to tell you her name but another of the block managers she shit herself. Right in the middle of the Weekly Operation report meeting.” He said bluntly. Her eyes widened. “No…” she said in disbelief. “Yes… she was just sitting there fiddling with her pen taking some notes and I see her just go white as a sheet and then I heard it… and smelled it. She was shocked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone run so fast out of one of those meetings.” He said with a chuckle. “It’s not funny!” she barked at him. “Sorry sorry.” He said defensively. “It’s not even just the bathroom issues… I’ve been so hungry lately!” she exclaimed, finishing the first pastry as if to reinforce what she’d said. “and the crying… uhg sometimes I can just feel tears starting for no reason. I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do if… this gets worse.” She confided with him. “and before you say anything I have seen a doctor. He said it was probably just stress. Which is bullshit and you know it. That’s just code for I have no idea.” She said with a wry laugh. “Now can I laugh?” he asked which brought a smile to her face. “I’ll allow it.” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Well for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re alone with whatever is going on.” He said doing his best to be comforting. “That’s what I thought but… the few times I searched the net I couldn’t find anything but ads for Huggies and Pampers.” She said with an irritated shake of her head. “I mean… couldn’t they at least make them without those stupid cutesy prints!” she said. He gave her a confused look. “Nevermind…” she said embarrassed that she even knew what they looked like. “I also wanted to let you know you’ve got a mandatory physical eval today. I think it’s concerning what’s been going around all the women do. They started with the grunts earlier. I only heard about it today…” he said. She let out a pensive ‘hmm’ and opened up her messages on the holoprojector waving her hand to scroll through before seeing the invite. “Yeah… right here I’m scheduled for 9.” She said with a sigh taking another sip of coffee already eyeing her second pastry. “Thanks…” she said glancing away shyly. “But… if it’s all the same I’ve had enough talking about how I’m pissing my pants and let’s just brief me on mission details before my appointment.” Em said, getting down to business as she plucked a morsel of sweet dough from the delicious breakfast bread. “Right, of course.” He said, opening the folder revealing the papers contained within. “Client’s an ultralux which you probably already guessed.” He began, she nodded and let him continue as she worked on finishing breakfast. “Classic story, spoiled daughter gets it in her head that she wants some excitement, comes down ground level.” He covered spreading out the files on her desk. Pictures of the target, the client and her last known location. “Classic story indeed, can I guess how it ends?” she asked taking a good look at the pictures. “By all means.” He said with a gesture of his hand. “Goes to the club scenes, parties her brains out high of everything from Ozone to every Serum remix available and ends up locked in some guys basement. Now he’s trying to ransom her to daddy. How’d I do?” she asked looking up with a smirk. “Close, I’ll give you a B minus.” He joked. “First, ‘some guy’ happens to be Division Ruin. Serious players in the valley they run some serious combat grade hardware. DR management are ex higher ups from different arms manufacturers and second… we don’t think she knows she’s being ransomed. From what we can tell they’re treating her pretty good meaning…” he paused. “Once Daddy pays they’re just going to kill her.” She answered in his stead. “exactly… and third he’s an investor. So he’s given us a timetable and it’s how should we say… short.” He continued. Emelie frowned, she kicked herself for coming in late today. “On the upside Priority B means close air support if you request it and some pretty choice hardware if you want to go in loud. “I would say this kind of mission is begging for some creative infil, getting close to the higher ups and convince the target to walk right out but I don’t know that you have the time for that but… anyway like I said. Parameters are up to you, keep in mind we do have an asset in DR so try not to kill too many people. She sighed and nodded. “We’ll figure it out and get back Daddy’s little princess in one piece.” The two talked for an hour and change covering the layout of the surrounding area, strength and size of DR forces, security measures, equipment options, tactical approaches and everything else they could fit into the hour before her appointment. She ushered him out of her office so she could maybe get some answers about what was going on. The medical wing was decent walk away from her office. Wing was really more of an understatement as the PrivSec building also housed what amounted to a private hospital. “Examination room FF” she said aloud glancing over her shoulder as a bookish looking operative walked past her leaving one of the rooms on the opposite side of the hall her cheeks blushed with embarrassment. “Welcome Ms. Blackstar.” A chipper female voice called out as she opened the door and quickly shut it behind her. “Mm” she nodded. “Please, go ahead and fill out this questionnaire and then undress.” The shorter woman said. She seemed too happy for this kind of meeting probably just trying to be friendly but Emelie didn’t like her. “Right.” She responded curtly, having to remind herself that the doctor was just trying to help. Had she received any implants and been administered with the new Serum5, had she experienced any increase in appetite, increase in needing to use the restroom… and at the very bottom of the list bouts of incontinence… It was a clean sweep, a yes to every question though she felt the defensive need to clarify with the qualifiers to downplay the severity. “If I could just elaborate on some of these questions…” she asked but the woman shook her head offering a friendly smile. “Oh no that’s not necessary we appreciate your honesty and it only helps us help you!” she said taking the clipboard allowing the woman to undress. Wanting to finish as soon as possible she did as asked carefully setting her shoes aside before slipping out of her pants. Her jacket and shirt followed suit and soon she was standing there in just her light satin panties with an elegant trimming of lace along with a matching bra. “Oh, completely naked please.” The woman asked when she turned around now holding an instrument in her hand. “I’m going to sync with your implants to check your vitals if you’ll open your firewall to device ID 72fc444A.” she said continuing with that irritatingly chipper tone of voice. She sighed again thankful that the small leak from earlier had dried by now as she hooked her thumbs into her waistband and tugged her panties down her long toned thighs. Unhooking her bra shortly thereafter she stood, entirely nude in front of the woman her impressive physique on display. “Go ahead Doc, you should be able to sync now.” She said, folding her arms over her chest. “Thank you, this shouldn’t take long.” She said humming to herself as she waved the device around looking at the screen and then poked and prodded at the woman’s body. “Odd…” she noted as she went about her work. “You haven’t felt drowsy or light headed lately?” she asked idly. “No… why?” Emelie asked, her voice tinged with concern. “Well your average resting heartrate has decreased by approximately 5 beats per minute to 49 or so. Exercising more?” She commented keeping as professional as ever. Emelie just shook her head and let the woman continue. Her impressive physique was enhanced by her implants. Lengthy fibrous metal cables ran the length of her spine and branched off into the major muscle groups in her arms, legs and even into her core. The Apollyon module implanted in the base of her spine helped enhance strength through muscle density and endurance by helping the body filter out lactic acid more quickly. With an elaborate suite of sensors it was also the module the doctor was currently accessing her vital information with. “Well you’re as fit as ever.” She said making a note on the medical device. The woman stood just barely above chest height eye to eye with Emelie’s generous c cup chest. “Let me just check.” She said to herself, setting the device down and reaching out practically jabbing her freezing cold fingers against the woman’s abdomen. Her stomach showed just the faintest hint of musculature underneath a layer of supple pale skin. She flinched, grunting in surprise at the sudden sensation of the woman’s fingers jabbing against her stomach and bladder. Even worse she could feel a spasm, a sudden tickle against her nethers and then a warm rivulet of liquid running down the back of her thigh. ‘Fuck!’ she thought to herself praying the woman didn’t notice. Discussing the issues was one thing but… dribbling down her legs in front of her… that was too much! “Nng” she let out an audible groan as the woman’s fingers dug in a little harder kneading around putting more pressure on her abdomen. “My apologies for any discomfort.” She said continuing to strain and pressure her lower muscles. Her bladder spasmed again and she felt another warm gush of urine run down her legs dribbling onto the floor. “Enough of that!” she exclaimed smacking at the woman’s hand, cheeks burning bright red at having just peed in front of her. It wasn’t much but still, she was mortified! “That should conclude my examination. Thank you for your cooperation Ms. Blackstar.” The woman said. “You may use the towel on the wall to clean up.” She said as if she had been expecting her to urinate all over herself. “You performed exceedingly well and I must say I’m jealous of how you held it together when I pressure your sphincter muscles.” She spoke as the blushing woman toweled legs off. “I’ll get down to brass tax. Though we have no definite information evidence points to a unique interplay between Serum5 and our female physiology. You’re not the only one experience these symptoms an increase in urge incontinence, increased appetite and a mix of others as I am sure you are aware. Oh before you redress…” she said, stopping her just as her panties began to crest her thighs. “I have a sample for you.” She said opening a drawer tugging out a small wrapped package. “The latest in discrete incon wear. The Poise Guardian pad or if you’d prefer I have more absorbent options.” She said still keeping that same chipper tone of voice that was really beginning to irritate her. She was tempted to slap the damn thing from her hand! She needed a medical solution not a diaper! “Are you fucking kidding me!?” she finally snapped. The smaller woman recoiled slightly but stood her ground. “I understand you are frustrated but this is only a temporary solution until a more permanent course of action is presented.” She asserted. “I’m a grown woman! I’m not a child! I don’t need to go fucking traipsing around in a diaper!” she fumed. “This is ridiculous!” she continued, having lost her temper. “This isn’t a diaper!” she protested. After her little eruption the two stood silently, Emelie weighing her options. It was official… she had a problem but this… it seemed so extreme. So she had a few close calls… did she really need to resort to… this? Accepting it just felt like admitting to her weakness but at the same time… it seemed like the smart choice.
  3. Just a short little sequel to this picture, still working on things just needed a break. She clutched the ransom note in her hand, a sneer emblazoned across her face. Grand Master Adelina captured and being held for ransom was bad enough… but the curs had thought to dress her up in a child’s diaper and humiliate her! Now they were extorting her for their own benefit and threatening to besmirch the reputation of a Grand Master. The sight of Adelina, chest exposed, still wearing parts of her ornate armor wearing nothing on her lower half except a bloated sagging well used diaper. A blush fell across her own cheeks, a humiliating reminder of all the accidents she’d suffered in combat. Grand Master Hestia had never been a fan of Adelina most of her fellow Grand Master would prefer to see her deposed but this was an affront to all women of the Empire! Crumpling the ransom note, a disgusted look on her face she made a call. “Yes, prepare my airship. Yes, nine thousand guilders, just in case. No, we’re not actually going to pay… I refuse to negotiate with ruffians.” The fortified airship slowly descended to the meeting point. Hestia drummed her fingers anxiously on the control panel. Her command chair felt… clammy and uncomfortable. A bout of turbulence had caused her to lose control of her bladder multiple times. Fortunately the protective pad she wore had saved her dignity of being discovered but sitting on the swollen pad for so long had wrung urine from it. She could feel her uniform trousers clinging wetly to her skin. After chewing out her navigator for voiding her bowels and ordering her off the bridge for her cowardice she dare not expose her own lapse in control. Landing was less than graceful, hitting a rock one of the landing skids slipped. The large ship lurched forward. A screech of scraping metal echoed through the ship as the Grand Master was nearly thrown from her command chair. She managed to catch herself in time but the sudden noise caused her bowels to shift. Her stomach lurched, she tensed and… ffffbllllrrrttch. A sudden sloppy evacuation into her pants. Eyes widened in fear she felt it immediately. Disgust shot through her as she fell back in her seat, sitting with a filthy squelch, her own shit pressing against her. Soft and malleable she could feel it spreading across her backside. The protective pad wasn’t designed for this kind of accident. With everyone preoccupied checking on the ship she quickly excused herself from the bridge trying to tug the tail of her coat in a futile attempt to hide her accident. With her soiled panties disposed of she readied herself for the ‘exchange’. She had no plans to hand over the guilders to bandit scum. Once they met she would demand to see Adelina. Her knights would simply overwhelm the small contingent they sent to the exchange and the gun batteries of her airship would take care of pesky reinforcements. A foolproof plan! She would surely receive a commendation to rub in Adelina’s face. The landing doors on the rear of the ship opened with a hiss and flanked by a detachment of knights Grand Master Hestia wearing her own resplendent armor. An imposing presence in her own right Hestia looked a ferocious sight with her stunning red hair and emerald eyes. Enemies of the empire often referred to her as the blazing firestorm with her tendency to raze enemy encampments and leave no survivors. Insisting on making the exchange personally despite her advisers imploring her not to Hestia approached the small group of bandits. She’s expected to see more of them, behind them she could see their camp. A scoff left her lips, Adelina’s forces had been routed by this lot of rapscallions? How pathetic. No sign of the captured grand master she pursed her lips. They’d better not try anything foolish. “You, where’s Grand Master Adelina?” she barked, wasting no time with formalities. “We’ve got your little Adelina safe and sound… well she needs a diaper change after that racket you made but that’s not a surprise. Can’t keep her pampers clean for longer than fifteen minutes even if she tried.” The uproarious laughter from his comrades stung her pride. A bright red blush of shame crossed her cheeks reminded of her own accidents on the flight here and landing. She shifted her legs, responding to their laughter with a reproachful look. “Silence, I won’t stand for your libelous words against a fellow Grand Master!” “Libelous? How many times did we have ta change her?” he said, pausing for a moment counting on his fingers. “When we captured her… when she saw that spider… when she was carrying firewood… when she was sleeping… more than once… when she got all uppity and we had to discipline her...” “Don’t forget when she shit herself when we made her spar with the recruits.” Another round of riotous laughter came from the small group of men. “You’d think she’d never held a blade before. The look on her face when she had ta fight was priceless. She barely lasted three minutes against a kid before she was crapping her pants like a toddler begging not to fight anymore... but fine… we’ll get her. We’re a merciful lot.” Hestia’s jaw tightened with each disrespectful word spoken. Each passing second she was tempted to give the order. With a snap of her fingers she could lay waste to their camp with the gun turrets on her airship. Fortunately at the last minute he acquiesced. He waved his hand and one of the men trudged off to retrieve their prize. A tense few minutes passed as Adenlina was retrieved. Hestia stood there, gaze unwavering. A gush of urine warmed the pad between her legs as she thought she was one of the men reaching for his blade but… it was just her mind playing tricks on her. A single rivulet of warmth traced its way down her thigh before Adelina came into view. Her wrists bound together with a crude lashing of rope, cheeks stained with tears she wore nothing other than a thread-worn shirt much too large for her lithe frame and… a childish diaper. The shirt hung open at the front doing little to hide her buxom chest and the diaper, swollen with urine and bloated with solid waste was already an ill fitting garment even before made heavy with fearful release. “I told ya she probably needed a change but like I said as long as your… ‘donation’ of guilders to our cause is sufficient we won’t let anyone else know about Adelina the incontinent.” Hestia simply scowled at him, turning to one of her knights she whispered in his ear and he nodded giving a terse “yes maam” before returning to the formation behind her. The whirring of mechanical actuation came from the ship as the turrets swiveled leveling their deadly sight at the encampment behind them. “You will release Grand Master Adelina to our custody now or we will level your fortifications immediately. You have less than a minute before we open fire.” she ordered, taking command of the situation. He didn’t seem perturbed by the development. Instead he shrugged, glancing back over his shoulder then once more to Hestia. “Are ya sure ya want to do that?” Hestia was slightly confused by his casual response. Unnerved even by the way he did not seem to be phased by the large bore cannons threatening to rain destruction on his legion. Another wet rush of piss soaked into her pad as her nerves began to play up. Why wasn’t he intimidated!? “We had a deal ya know...” “I am altering the deal, Adelina or your lives.” Having been at the mercy of the bandits since her capture and realizing the rescue party had no intention of paying the ransom Adelina let out a subdued whimper. Her legs quivered and from the leg guards of her diaper liquid started to run down her thighs. The Grand Master was wetting herself again. The sodden garment could absorb no more and uselessly allowed her bladders contents to spill down her toned thighs dampening the ground beneath her. He sighed and snapped his fingers immediately chaos engulfed them. A loud explosion… a second… a third! Adelina covered her ears, shutting her eyes tightly, grunting as she voided her bowels into her already full diaper. The reverberation of the explosions shook Hestia to her core. She could feel it in her sternum as stealthily placed explosives were neutralizing the threat from her airship. Her knights had sprung into action rushing forward at the sound of the blast but Hestia was frozen in fear The redhead paled not even realizing her potty training had abandoned her as her plan crumbled. Her pad was soaked in an instant and urine still flowed freely from her fear loosened bladder. A faint hiss could have been heard coming from her armor if it wasn’t for the sounds of conflict. As she stood, voiding herself, frozen on the impromptu battlefield Hestia dared not turn around to see how severe the damage to her airship had been. Her bowels fared no better and like a frightened little girl she panicked helplessly soiling her armor. Shit oozed into her panties, the second pair she had ruined today. A soft almost paste like consistency filled them to the brim, conforming to the shape of her buttocks and the metal plating of her armor. It was such a voluminous accident some had even began to leak down her thighs, smearing them a dirty brown. When she finally came to her senses she could see the glint of a blade scything towards her. One of her knights threw himself in front of her as she let out a surprised squeal, trembling hand going for her sword. More bandits were running towards them from the encampment and the small detachment of knights wouldn’t be able to hold them off for long. In the chaos Adelina had managed to slip away, tears running down her cheeks as she awkwardly ran in her dirty diaper. “G...go, k...kill them all.” Hestia ordered her knights as she scrambled after the raven-haired Grand Master. As she took off after her she could feel her accidentally released shit squishing against her. The disgusting sensation turned her stomach, she thought she might be sick. What really turned her blood to ice was the sight of her airship, the Eurystheus was in no condition to fly now. There was no chance of using it to escape it looked like the aft had been completely destroyed. They couldn’t even retreat inside and use it as a stronghold whilst they sent a distress call. With her gait made awkward by the load of shit weighing down her panties she chased after Adelina. She caught up to her behind a rocky outcropping, hiding them from the sight of the bandits. “Th...that was your plan?!” Adelina spat at the redhead. “You didn’t do any better!” “Cut my hands free!” “You can’t criticize me! It would have worked if...” Hestia flushed with embarrassment and pulled out her sword, cutting the woman’s wrists free. At least her own accident was somewhat hidden though the smell… and the wetness on her greaves would make it obvious to anyone with enough perception. “I should execute you for your cowardice and incompetence right here! If I...” Hestia froze mid-sentence, another explosion, louder than the others drowned out the sound of their petty squabble. The Grand Masters could only assume it was the Eurystheus falling to more bandit explosives. Clinging to each other in fear they both sniffled wishing to be anywhere but here. Oblivious to the puddle forming beneath their feet from their combined release of what dwindling liquid remained in their bladders. In their terrified stupor they hadn’t even realized another person had joined them. A small boy stared wide eyed at the two crying women as they held each other. One wearing a very soiled diaper, the other in resplendent armor. He seemed oblivious to the sounds of battle or the explosion coming from just the other side of the outcropping. “I just came to see the airship but wow an actual knight.” he began, a charming innocence about him. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from them both and with about as much tact as could be expected from a young boy made his displeasure with their accidents known. “Eww, you pooped your diaper and… it smells like you pooped in your armor too… your armor’s all wet...” The two women blushed brightly untangling themselves from each other’s grasp. Adelina desperately tried to cover the childish diaper with her hands. Hestia pinched her thighs together causing the mess to shift and squish again. Here they were, both Grand Masters, both had completely lost control of their bladder and bowels. Adelina’s diaper distended, stained and sodden, Hestia’s armor, glistening with wetness and soiled with feces. But he, a child remained unphased. Could he not hear the sounds of battle behind them or the deafening explosions? “It… it’s not what it looks like...” Hestia feebly protested. “Uhh…” He circled around Hestia and poked her armor right in the rear. There was a wet muddy squelch that came from her. She could feel her mess smushed against her backside, more if it oozing out down her thighs. “You definitely pooped your pants. You should probably be wearing diapers like her...” Hestia wiped her eyes, shaking her head. Her voice still trembled slightly. She’d just let this child point out she had utterly soiled herself any other person who would even attempt such a thigh would be summarily executed but… an idea struck her. “D… does your family live near here? If… if you take us there we’ll reward you… you and your family. Enough guilders to live comfortably for years.” she plead desperately. He paused, thinking about the offer. “Okay! Try not to have any more accidents though… it already smells bad.” With a blush both women followed after the boy, Hestia trying to instill a sense of urgency in the carefree child to get them to safety as quickly as possible.
  4. Coming with a smattering of exquisite LivingInfinite (http://pixiv.me/livinginfinite) artwork is a story written by my inner Tom Clancy, in four parts. __________________________________________________ Had peace reigned, the sky’s conscience might have retained its clarity, unscarred by the weeping trails carved by screaming jets. But there was nobody now for the blue expanse to enchant, not least the pilots seeking refuge from the spiteful columns of fire that blossomed from the ground. Jo had learned to hate the clear sky as she flew into the fray, but refrained from pushing harder on the roaring turbojet, as she did back when she could still find fights in air unpolluted by thick smoke. All intercepts occurred now in the besmirched skies in front of Jo’s canopy. Her plane shot toward the dirty smear ahead. The communists were desperate, but no less pig-headed than usual. Their recent barrage of reconnaissance planes all flew high and slow, and evaded with no more skill than plump, silvery skeet. They’d made aces out of too many idiotic young cadets who then dared to cozy up to Jo and her compatriot veterans of the MiGs’ trial by fire. She almost missed those visceral battles. Racking up easy kill marks and pay was a good gig, but it was nothing on the rawness of dogfights in her wonderfully analog machines. Meanwhile, she had never pushed her sleek new jet to its limits, and if her briefing was accurate, today would not be the first time. A wispy white contrail caught Jo’s eye. She followed it to a quick flash of metal emerging from behind a smoky cloud. Throttle up, and turn to port. The bogey had straight wings and bulges underneath both. Soviet. “Knight has visual. Vectoring for the target, over.”. The Russian’s shimmering fuselage was above her, flying an angle towards her for a few seconds, before disappearing behind an ashy cloud. Jo tightened her chest and pulled her control stick left. The jet rolled into a tight turn, and she wrenched her body towards the sky, fighting the bloodshot pulses at the side of her eyes until the two contrails appeared parallel above her canopy. The Russian was much closer now, close enough for Jo to make out the red stars on his wings, beckoning her to put the big plane squat inside her sights. But now the Russian was accelerating and rolling starboard, twisting his plane down towards the ground, scavenging the last few knots out of the antiquated airframe, and in the process sealing any opportunities for agile evasion. It was a hallmark of desperate young pilots, just like the previous few that the Ruskies had sent, just another stenciled red star below Jo’s cockpit. You’re as good as dead. This time, as she gently pushed the control stick down, her gloved thumb was locked over the trigger. Twenty degrees, ten degrees, and the twin-engined fighter was in her sights again, frozen by speed in her green crosshairs. Now go down. The four cannons exploded in a rhythmic bark and spat their trails of fire, enveloping the Soviet in a curtain of American lead, each bullet cutting like a hot knife through the thin aluminum. A splash of orange flame erupted from the starboard engine, shimmering across the unpainted metal, and the engine exploded in a burst drowned out by the still-roaring cannons. And then the Russian was falling in a flat spin, down and away from Jo’s sights, leaving only a corkscrew of thick black smoke to mark her kill. “Scratch one Red. Returning to base, over.”. Jo would have preferred the sheet of flame marking a mid-air disintegration, but was content with a quick look back revealing no ejected pilots’ parachute. The dead communist hadn’t even fired in the encounter–these pilots were only good for being shot down. What the hell are they doing in these planes? Their Furloughs were clumsy, rotund beasts, a decade-old design that even the greenest of recruits could fly circles around before downing. For Jo, a clean intercept would never take more than twenty seconds. She pulled back on the throttle until the engine’s thunderous reverberations slowed to a pitch that she knew by ear. Her thumb relaxed from its curl around the trigger. A gentle turn could suffice, but a tight roll could put her on the flight path half a mile sooner. There was no question: Jo braced her chest and temples, and tugged the control stick to starboard. The aircraft was nearly perpendicular to the ground when she was pricked by a sense of sudden premonition. Something had glanced off the canopy in the turn, a quick and sinister flash that had appeared for a second while she was pivoted northeast. Her hand flew back to the throttle and her thumb to the trigger, in preparation of chasing another Furlough to a fiery death. But no sooner had she terminated the roll than the whistling wail of a supersonic projectile fill her right ear, followed nearly instantly by a shrieking alarm in her headset. Fuck! First came the light of the explosion in a blinding burst, and then the deafening blast and shockwave that stunned every fiber of Jo’s being. The missile’s storm of penetrating shrapnel perforated the jet all along its side as it violently shook in the ripples of the blast. Jo was thrown like a rag-doll against the sides of her cockpit, her unrestrained head crashing off the sides of her canopy. I lost–lost the enemy, lost the advantage, lost her safety. It was a horrifying thought which coursed through Jo’s nerves, numbing all her appendages. Her body went cold. She had forgotten this raw fear, the sort that the MiGs once struck, the sort for which she had started wearing her special undergarments. The gelled core of her padded trunks soaked with the hot urine she had released in terror, absorbing fast enough for to Jo remain unaware that she was wetting herself. The same discretion could not be afforded to her solid wastes, which pushed messily into the padding at her backside and against the elastic gathers that kept Jo’s fear a secret. That she was messing herself was known to Jo’s subconscious, but her mind was consumed by visceral fear, thinking only of wanting to run, to hide, to be somewhere, anywhere else. All her appendages stiffened, bringing her hand into a white-knuckled grip around the control stick, and her thumb back down on her trigger. The four M39s’ faithful bark rocked Jo, enough for her to become cognizant of the hollow lightness in her body, and adrenaline in her mind, even as her urine continued to pour unencumbered into the absorptive trunks. She released the trigger and the curtain of bullets stopped. Three seconds had passed. Four seconds, and Jo pulled hard starboard on her control stick, five seconds, and she pulled her plane up into a loop. She was inverted when the silver jet shot across her canopy, above her head, below her in the ashy sky. Fucker! I got you! Pure instinct pushed her hand to hard starboard, rotating the plane in an inverted roll. The black and bloody circles were converging on her vision now. Max G. The control stick was returned to rest, but the throttles pushed up, whipping the jet around into the contrails of the assailant. Jo saw a flash of a sleek delta silhouette, bearing the burst of Soviet red on its swept wings, before the plane again climbed above and over her canopy. Come back here! The moment of fear was forgotten now. She twisted her control stick up and to starboard, pointing her nose towards the heavens and the roar of the Soviet’s engines. Her jet’s alarm wails were ignored as she pushed the aircraft to a roll towards the contrails, only to find the flash of silver below her this time, shooting past her jet in the exact opposite direction. Running now? Jo’s plane rolled to the side again to complete its tight turn. The bloodshot spots in front of her eyes were flooding her vision, and her head was screaming its protest, but she gave not an inch of the control sticks’ starboard pull, flinging the jet around in a full loop toward the Russian. There you are! – on top of her canopy, the full picture of the Soviet jet, enveloped between two flickering circles of bloody vision, red stars emblazoned on the delta wing. Bursts of automatic fire were already exploding its a green nose cone, shooting their streams of fire, ready to dismember their target upon the turn’s completion. But the plane was much too slow to match Jo’s turn, pulling fast enough to bracket the Russian’s underbelly, half a second away from having the Soviet in her sights. Your turn to die! Not mine! Now it was her turn to fire as she jerked back on the control stick, ensuring that the Soviet would receive a full stream of the red-hot bullets. There was no escape for the Russian, locked in place by the effort of the maneuver, from the storm of bullets that perforated all along the big aircraft. The screaming turbojet engine was penetrated throughout its length, and consumed itself in a furious explosion, tearing apart all traces of the Soviet jet in a fireball of gas and rockets. Jo had never seen the pilot, but knew that he would have been incinerated in an instant and turned to the ash which polluted the skies. Too good a death for you, Red bastard! __________________________________________________ “Your mail, missus Bell”. “Thank you. Leave it in the tray.” “Very welcome, missus”. Cynthia was beginning to like the young clerk, with his brisk smile and chipper voice. He’d never seen a world without war and knew not to despair at it, nor bemoan the draft that would come for him in due time. Too young to know of the vacations summer once yielded, too young too know of the ration tickets he worked for, too young to know of all the turmoil unfolding across the world. Cynthia couldn’t escape any of it. She turned in her chair, and from the top of a heavy stack picked up the bound manila envelope marked Classified. Oh, of course it’s the 303. The Union’s finest, renowned for their many memorandums demanding the latest that Groom Lake had rubber-stamped, none of which the secretaries had clearance to read. This document was for her eyes only, and its contents would be made known only to Team 3A. She pinched and unwound the string, pulled out the ream inside, and her figures leafed through the cheap copy paper. The pages fell into a flurry of words, numbers, and figures—suddenly interrupted by the flash of a familiar name. Cynthia furrowed her brow and flipped back through the papers, searching; and there it was on the third page. Josephine Dolores Simmons. It was all she could do to not physically cringe at having found her. That woman, that day, that reminder of her secret. She knew immediately what would be requested from her. How, just how could I possibly forget? Waves of scorching heat shimmered above the Nevada desert and wafted from the black tarmac runways a smell of lingering bitumen. Though she had long ago moved the small metal fan as close to her as its cord would allow, Cynthia was still sweating furiously through every pore. She looked up from her work to the clock, and then to the lone window of the cabin, through which she could see the three bullet-shaped jets with blinding bursts of sunlight reflecting off their polished bodies. Hardly an hour remained before their takeoff, and in the meantime, there was much work to be done. More beads of sweat had dripped from her wrists upon her papers. My goodness, this heat! Her long white coat was almost unbearable in this weather, and even worse was her underwear, whose material was surely saturated solely with sweat by now. Well, she couldn’t do without either, but scowled at knowing the other ladies suffered only by the coat. A knock appeared at the door, and before Cynthia could go to answer it, it was accompanied by a rattling crank at the locked doorknob. “Coming!” She hurried over as fast as her low heels would allow and undid the lock, opening the door to reveal a disheveled-haired woman wearing a crumpled green jacket and fatigues. A cigarette was burning between the woman’s teeth, and she did not put it out as she strode up the cabin’s steps, drawing herself to a full height, a head taller than Cynthia. Cynthia was taken aback. “And you would be?” There was no rank insignia and no patch upon the stranger’s jacket. “Simm’ns”. She finally pulled out the smoke. Simmons, Simmons. “Oh! Major Simmons!” The decorated ace of the one-thirty-eighth, with twelve confirmed kills over Bulgaria. Wasn’t it Simmons who brought down the Russian flightsuit, that she personally had examined? Regardless, she’d only ever seen her in a crisp dress uniform, and it jarred Cynthia now to see Simmons here and in this state. “So, Major Simmons, I can help you now with your equipment, ma’am. Erm, this will go on under the suit across your stomach; I have that for you here, and then the suit should be pulled on over you. These will go on over. Here’s the manual, Major Simmons” “Jo, if you like”. “You may find it better to step behind the curtain for the next step, Major. Our guidelines are that you replace your current undergarments with these… They’re for the female anatomy, you see, for collecting waste in these here long missions, yes, all test pilots for today should wear these...” The major picked up and unfolded the white trunks towards which Cynthia gestured, and shot a glance over her shoulder. “You’re making me wear a diaper?” “Oh no, I’m sure you’ll find that these aren’t quite, yes! We’ve engineered to a very high standard – they work by airflow, and are fitted these just for your body, so that it’s very light and comfortable, yes, I’m sure you will feel no different from your…” “I’ll wear it.” Cynthia couldn’t tell if Simmons was convinced, but she obliged in pulling back the curtain and changing herself into the flightsuit. She turned her back towards the major and walked back to her desk, and only then noticed that her face was tingling with blush. A diaper! Really! The spiel about the Disposable Absorbent Containment Trunks was all true; the trunks were indeed a culmination of hours in the lab perfecting a novel polymer compound and its packaging. Cynthia had been religious in ensuring that the garment would be as non-restricting as possible, so further removing any resemblance to a baby’s diaper. And yet, well… It was an affront to more than her scientific prowess—for as she spoke, Cynthia was herself wearing the trunks – diaper– that she had designed for Major Josephine Simmons. They didn’t fit perfectly on her slighter waist, but she necessarily donned one each morning, as she had today behind the curtain in the cabin. With her position in FSG, she could procure the garments easily, and so an extra pair was tucked away in a zippered compartment of her handbag. There was but a small solace in needing not to draw from it often. Her thoughts were broken by Simmons’s voice. “Finished.” From behind the curtain emerged the Major, fully suited in her equipment. “Oh, oh, yes. I’ll need to perform some checks now.” She scanned across all the fastenings in the mess of tubes and straps. “Everything correct”. “Thank you”. Major Simmons swung the door back into its frame with a crash that rattled the cabin. I should go now, too. All the papers were complete, cross-checked twice, and neatly tucked into their manila folders. With one hand, Cynthia picked up her clipboard, and with the other, lifted her carrying case by its leather handle. To the jeep! She pushed opened the door, to be assailed immediately by the scorching sun. A cloud of fine dust, ejected from the tracks of vehicles in the distance, permeated her nostrils and throat, and elicited from her a series of sharp coughs as she disembarked the three wooden steps. And with each heave of her lungs, Cynthia leaked into her trunks a few errant spurts of urine. But so quickly did the padding whisk the moisture away, that she was none the wiser. It would be hours later before Cynthia could return to the cabin, fully exhausted from her ordeal in the scorching heat. She’d drunk cup after cup of water in the sweltering tent, and upon each visit to the bathroom found her DACT’s padding more and more dampened by another series of leaks she’d been too absorbed in work to notice. There was no opportunity throughout to retrieve a change, though in truth, she had never noticed the need for one. Lucky, too, for now was a fully unsuitable time. “Major Simmons, did you find the suit to cause any discomfort? Were there new stresses during maneuvers?” “No, and no. It’s enough for the plane. Though, I’m cooking in here”. “Ah, yes, I’m afraid that there might be an added thickness to the suit – it’s because of the extra pressure we need for the G’s. Let’s see… do you notice a decrease in mobility? Erm, here, on the ground?” “A bit, maybe. Don’t think it’s a problem”. Cynthia turned towards her clipboard, and creased her eyebrows at the dismal handwriting of her cursive upon the paper. Major Simmons had insisted on walking back posthaste, and Cynthia was in no position to refuse on grounds of wanting a desk. The consequence was the near-illegible script of writing while walking. Moreover, she needed the restroom and none were in sight. Gosh, that champagne went right through me. She made no mention of her predicament to the major, who had again produced and lit a cigarette, and answered further questions with the stick clenched between her teeth. Onward Cynthia trudged, probing and jotting and cross-referencing, all while her discomfort increased as her bladder filled. The cabin seemed miles away still, just a dot in the horizon while the heavy pressure mounted painfully upon her abdomen. Unconsciously, her pace increased. Each step was a jolt to her full bladder, approaching now its breaking point. A brief spurt of urine escaped into the padding, and this time, Cynthia was cognizant of each torturous drop. She toyed momentarily with the notion of fully emptying herself into the waiting padding, before quickly realizing that the trunks could in no way contain the saturation. There was no other option. “Erm… Major… could we pause, now, for a moment?” “What’s that?” The tall woman furrowed her brow. “What for?” “I… ah… I need to relieve myself...” Jo didn’t bat an eyebrow. “Ditch’s over there. Nobody’s around”. Cynthia could’ve hoped for nothing better than the easygoing soldier’s mannerisms, but her face was still a burning beet red as she turned toward the divot. She shot a brief glance over to Major Simmons, and saw only the pilot’s backside, framed by a few wisps of smoke rising and disappearing in the sunset. Only after walking twenty paces away from the woman did Cynthia dare to stop and squat down, loosen her belt and lower her slacks, and then grasp the legs of her skin-hugging DACT to pull them just away from her crotch. Any encumbrance her nervosity might have provided was overcome by sheer desperation as the torrent of urine flowed readily out her bladder and onto the ground, coalescing into a puddle in the sand. She shifted around in her squat to avoid stepping on her urine, but with the trunks at her thighs, could only move with an awkward waddle. When done, Cynthia realized suddenly the lack of any article to wipe with, followed quickly with the fresh realization that she could do without doing so. But the notion seemed disgusting, that she would willingly use the – diaper – at her thighs. She looked down upon her trunks’ padding, and surmised quickly from the swollen and yellowed fabric that her escapade had likely saved herself from another embarrassment. With a sigh, she brought herself to her feet. “You’re finished?” Hearing the voice felt like a shock coursing throughout her body. Cynthia’s glance shot up immediately towards the major, and to her abject horror found the woman’s bored eyes locked with hers. She almost screamed, but managed only a yelp as she rapidly doubled over herself, furiously covering her lower half from view. “Damn! Sorry!” For her part, Jo had wrenched her body back around with the first glance of the lady, and nearly inhaled her cigarette with the first sharp breath. She bit and chewed upon the filter while waiting for the crunching footsteps to draw nearer, and spoke not a word as she began her walk towards the cabin, with eyes averted from the short woman walking besides her. There was a lot for her to digest. Cynthia reciprocated the major’s refusal for acknowledgment. Her breaths were short and sharp, drawing in the acrid tobacco of the burning cigarette with each inhale. Oh god, oh god, did she see? All her work in miniaturizing the DACT could not have saved her from feeling the sodden padding between her thighs at each step, as though all the embarrassment she had ever felt at her incontinence rose from within and was stirred anew. There was a helpless anger, too, a why me? that echoed in her head until it was a relentless pound that erased time and the present. “Gonna change now”. Without realizing it, Cynthia had carried herself to the doorstep of the cabin. She wanted anything but to look at the pilot, but steeled herself to create a facade of full causality, and forced her eyes towards Josephine Simmons’s. “Y-yes, your clothes should still be on the cot”. “Okay”. There was nothing amiss in that voice, no indication that she had seen anything in that split-second encounter. It was enough to assuage Cynthia, so consumed had she been by the scorching embarrassment. I did cover myself enough. After all, how much could she have seen? She collapsed into her canvas chair, exhausted from the day and the experience. And so what if she did see? I’ll never meet her again. “Have an ashtray?” Major Simmons was back in her sloppy fatigues, and had thrown aside the curtain to face the seated scientist, with a butt between her fingers. “Oh, I don’t smoke. Can you throw it outside?” “Mm”. Jo strode two steps towards the door and opened a crack just wide enough to flick her butt out of. Just as quickly, she closed the door into its unpainted frame, and turned to face the seated woman with her hand still resting upon the brass knob. A grin cracked over her face. “Not diapers, huh?” Cynthia’s heart sank and her face washed over instantly with a pale blush. “N-no…?” There was no conviction in her voice. The pilot cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “That so?” She drew a step closer. “Just underwear, right? That’s why you’re wearing one?” No, no, why me, why me? She almost wanted to cry, but knew that doing so would only humiliate her further. Well, well, oh god, what should I do? She squeezed her eyes shut. “If you must… know…” Her voice was barely a whimper. “I’ve… a use for them… myself”. “Government property, isn’t it? Embezzlement? Hell, there’s too much of that. You know what I oughta do?” Oh god, is she serious? Cynthia opened her eyes again to reveal the pilot’s humorless face, one befitting of an ace and major in the Air Force. The perfect soldier, just as promised, and now her own abrogations would be brought to justice. No, no, will she -? But Major Simmons had no intention of waiting for Cynthia to cry a pleading protest. “Now, Miss, I’ll cut you a deal. I’m tired of seeing cockpits to clean after shooting some Russkies. Well, maybe they’ve got the same issues as you. Want to help me?” What’s this now? I… “Of course, of course!” She’d no need to finish her thought. “Hope you’re good at secrets. I’ll send you an order.” The paleness was receding from Cynthia’s face, leaving only a burning blush. “M-major, you’ll keep everything here in this room, right? May I … may I have some... leniency?” Jo rolled her shoulders. “Sure”. __________________________________________________ Fletcher Synthetics Group, PW10372D1 File of Dr. Cynthia Elizabeth Bell CLASSIFIED Absorbent Article For Use In Variable-G Environments An absorbent article contained within a flexible chassis with a thin, flexible absorbent core, body-facing liquid permeable topsheet, waterproof backsheet. Design of the chassis comprises the front and rear of the waist, and the upper portion of both legs, joined by seams to open at waist front. The objective of the design revision is to utilize the entire capacity of absorbent material. Previously, an excess of material necessitated a thick article not conforming well to the body and limiting application of air-flow system as described in PC5028. In general, the distribution of liquid along the article follows a circular pattern, causing overburden to material at the article’s sides without usage of end regions. A remedy is the introduction of rigid structure to the garment, however, the current construction of absorbent articles precludes the concentration of material in any area without rigid support. personal note D.A.C.T. leaks most commonly when in sitting position probably because of body weight on absorbent portion. elastic gathers near legs prevents some of the leaks but is uncomfortable even when not moving. +on a fitted frame would compress and be useless too Thus, there is a need for added members in construction facilitating the transfer of liquids vertically alongside the article towards outwards areas of the article. A semi-permeable prewoven film is arranged along the absorbent material behind and ahead of areas of saturation. The hydrophobic element prevents liquid permeation beyond a depth of absorbent material at regions adjacent to areas of saturation, until expansion of absorbent material increases permeability of the additional member. When article is used, the semi-permeable element precludes quick absorption in regions most immediate to the liquid and therefore transfers liquids to absorbent material along its length, making use of absorbent core in end regions. Greater absorptive efficiency therefore allows for a lesser amount of absorbent material and thinner absorbent core. The resultant garment should therefore have greater potential to conform to the body and reduce leaks resultant from the bunching of used absorbent material. D.A.C.T. made with same absorbent mat. and new film I don’t notice a change in the feeling of the underwear even sitting dry so film material is soft enough. I can feel “dry” for longer maybe by about one and one quarter hours. +more visible staining on the topsheet when changing OK and shows dispersion working. sometimes uncomfortable because of weight when not dry but can be fixed. should not be problem in use. thin absorbnt mat. new film more comfortable to wear and I still dont notice film material. lasts as long but easier to move in plus feels lighter because liquid distributed. but more “wetness” can be felt when product is used, (I notice using it more now). approved jun19 The four turboprops had yet to stop spinning when Jo approached the goliath cargo plane and locked eyes with Hugh Reeves. He watched the stone-faced woman approach the ajar cargo door and stop just short of where it would kiss the runway. Even as they were separated by just the ramp’s length, not even shouting could drown out the engine’s roaring drone. There was nothing to do but stare while the Allison engines spooled down until they finally left the propellers whirling powerless in the air. Jo made the first move and jumped onto the still-descending ramp. Hugh snapped into a quick salute upon seeing her rank. The major took three wordless steps up the metal door and stopped, and gave him a once-over without a single change in her expression. “At ease, sergeant”. Hugh lowered his arm. “What’cha need, ma’am?” “Find me a carrying box that’s got ‘Simmons’ on the label. It’ll be green and metal. You can’t miss it.” Groan. There had to be at least fifty packages just like that “But what’s ya rush?” “Important things from above. I’d have to kill you if I told you”. He wanted to laugh at the joke but bit his tongue upon realizing the major was serious. Without a word, he turned around into the cavernous belly and began to look around the packages stacked high under lashings. When he returned minutes later with file box in hand, Hugh was already expecting reprisal from a royally angry major long past the edge of her patience. But she was still standing on the ramp with the same opaque scowl, only now she had a cigarette burning at the corner of her mouth. He breathed a sigh of relief and handed over the package to no acknowledgment. “Shore is light, ain’t it?” The major turned on a heel to glare at him. She said nothing. Hugh gulped and instinctively broke into another salute. Did that set her off? She smirked and flicked the butt from her lips. “Sure is.” Jo turned again and walked away. Hugh lowered his salute and turned towards his packages. Not so bad, that major. She ain’t a bully. But hell, wasn’t she scary. The squadron was kicking back and shooting the shit in the mess hall. Nothing would disturb Jo in her hut. She nevertheless scanned the small, curtainless windows as a precaution, and found nobody around. Only then did she turn back to her file box and unlock its lid. There it was, the express from Dover, neatly packed into a cardboard box stamped with the interlocked diamonds of FSG. Fifty pairs of trunks, fitted, as Missus Bell had said, specifically for Jo’s body. Her “special undergarments” that she had first worn on flying the Ultra Sabre, and that she wore since then on each and every mission. The last box’s supply was diminishing when she written to the States, and had almost vanished by the C-127’s arrival in the evening. But arrive they did, and just in time for the mission with the big bombers at 2253. Saved again. With both hands, Jo slipped her green fatigues and white cotton panties off her legs. She reached into the file box and retrieved a folded white trunk, unfolded it quickly, and with her feet found the garment’s two legs. In one jerk she pulled the trunks up to her waist and covered them just as quickly with the green fatigues. She bent down, locked the green metal box, slipped the brass key between her mattress and metal bedframe, and slid the entire container underneath her bed and out of sight of any visitors to her hut. The fifteen jets and fourteen bombers were high over Czechslovakian sky, and the sun long ago fallen behind the horizon, when the first blip on the radar appeared. “Bogey to our one o’clock”. Jo pushed her throttle, and the Pratt & Whitney responded with an afterburner’s roar, pressing her back into the seat as the lumbering bombers receded and vanished from her sight. The Union’s jets were screaming through the air at nearly Mach two when the second blip appeared on the radar, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth. Jo’s heart was steeled and her consciousness wholly contained in her eyes and trigger finger as she screamed towards the dogfight enveloped by her engine’s thunderous roar. The green glowing dots on her canopy were moving towards the radar’s center, on a collision course with the Minutemen, ready to fight and die at the Americans’ hands. Her eyes left the display and began scanning the sky. Her arms twitched, ready to pull the control stick towards the first communist that appeared. The world had but fallen silent. “Visual! Visual at three o’clock!” Clayton’s scream was loud and distorted and irritatingly piercing but could not hope to brake Jo’s dead-set concentration. She was a machine pulling her plane in a smooth but unbelievably quick roll towards the orange flicker of jet exhaust out-shining all the stars in the sky. The target grew from a speck into a splotch on her canopy and began to move with quick, deliberate motion as it drew ever-closer. Her hands moved to the trigger. “I have radar and visual on target, three miles out, on my eleven o’clock, firing missile.” Calm, collected, monotonous, and conveying to all her squadron that the kill was but secured. Two Sparrows shot through the inky sky en route towards the doomed fighter. Jo pulled back and left on her control stick, once again sucking herself into the seat, and bringing the plane high above striking range of the communists’ guns. One second, two second, three, and ahead appeared a burst and sheet of orange flame. “Scratch one! Perfect shot!” Jo scowled, ignoring the whoops and cheers. She brought her weight down hard on the control stick, forcing the jet back down towards where the night sky was lit. The orange glow was still there, obscured by a curtain of smoke, moving in a rapid tremble. It was asynchronous with her jet’s judder. No, the bandit was not yet downed. Jo brought her jet in a quick rolling loop towards the engine glow, finger curled around the trigger. Her hand’s pressure on the stick relented as the target fell within fifty degrees of her guns, steadying the reticule on the canopy glass. She could but make out the plane’s outline now, though the screen of billowing smoke. It was falling, lurching about in an attempt to stay airborne, not at all realizing that it was falling into the crosshairs of an American fighter. Jo aimed and pulled the trigger. The Sukhoi drowned into an ocean of American lead, and was in a fraction of a second torn apart in a ball of bright flame, disintegrating so fast that the pilot could never realize his own death. The victorious Ultra Sabre pulled up sharply to rejoin its compatriots. Inside, Jo’s heartbeat relented and her focus softened. “Target destroyed.” No sooner had Jo uttered the words that her cockpit reverberated with a furious volley of deafening bangs and her jet gave a huge, tortuous lurch, and screamed into her headset with the sounds of countless alarms. The jerk slammed her helmet into the canopy with such force that she saw stars. Her whole body tightened with a terror she’d never expected. She was utterly disconnected with the jet, blind to the hail of lethal fire. Without hesitation, she began to run her bladder and soak her undergarment’s waiting padding. Three more peals of penetration from a burst of Russian machine-cannon seemed to be the final nails in her coffin. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes and her hands’ grip slackened. Her bowels gave out too as she messed herself into her trunks. Major Jospehine Dolores Simmons’ plane flew but unguided for four agonizing, eternal seconds, even while a Sparrow’s blast reverberated behind her and struck another Sukhoi from the European sky. Then, a roar, a flash of an Ultra Sabre slicing across her canopy, then slowing in front of her and giving her full view of the turbojet’s orange exhaust. It was a beautiful sight. The alarms, once melded into the clarion of death, regained their meaning. Her squadron’s barks over the headset became audible again. Jo could feel her body returning to her. She knew at once of her accident when she felt the hot piss pooled against her crotch. Her face, already flushed with relief, now filled red with disgust as she felt the moisture slowly dissipate and dry. How much did I piss myself? She couldn’t recall being this wet before. “- smoking, Jo, you’se engine’s smoking!” That was Powers. …tell me something I didn’t know. “You gotta go! Go back!” He was right. The control was a Christmas tree of warning lights all screaming that the jet was crippled. At this rate, any landing at all would be good going. Barring that, she could bail out of the plane over Belgium and hope for the best. “Bravo three, vectoring for base, over.” The bombers would have to go on without her. She yanked on the control stick and felt the plane protest at the simple maneuver. Fuck…damned hell. “Affirmativ-” Not half a second after the radio cut, a huge black silhouette shot past Jo’s canopy in a fiery tumble. Her heart leapt, and almost burst with utter shock as the object suddenly exploded with a horrible roar punctuated with the screeching creak of twisting metal. A cacophony of shrapnel raked the underside of Jo’s jet. Her nerves were utterly shot; though she needed not feel the trepidation of possible death she was again stunned by fear. She felt every drop of her bladder’s remaining contents pour out and inundate her crotch with hot liquid, but felt no fiber of muscle that could stop the stream. Jo’s bladder was empty already by the time her composure fully returned and allowed her to grit her teeth, waiting for the flood of warmth to dry again, waiting and waiting until she finally noticed it. Her thighs and seat were wet. It all came back to her in a wave of embarrassment. There was something different about putting on the underwear, and something different about fitting the g-suit, and something different about climbing into the jet. Moving had been too easy and too free. Jo was sure of it – her trunks’ padding was thinner and lighter. No wonder the first accident had felt – that way. The humiliation gave way to anger – Missus Bell will wish she’d never been born! But until then, she could only guide her crippled jet towards Belgium while sitting in a rapidly cooling puddle of her own urine. __________________________________________________ Fletcher Synthetics Group, PW10368B3 File of Dr. Cynthia Elizabeth Bell CLASSIFIED Absorbent Article For Use In Variable-G Environments An absorbent core contained within a disposable absorbent article, contained between a liquid-permeable topsheet and liquid-impervious backsheet. The design modification from previous reduces loss in absorbent efficacy produced as a result of typical bodily motion causing distortion of the article displacement away from the user. The forces exerted upon the article may cause unintended contortion of the absorbent core into shapes not suited for the collection of liquid with minimal leakage, or in extreme cases force previously contained liquid out of the absorbent core. It is beneficial to provide an absorbent core intimate contact with the wearer as to not subject the core to twisting and bunching motion. However, the bodily motion of normal use make such a proposition difficult to accomplish with established absorbent material that may deform with the addition of weight or other stresses. Therefore, there is a need for an absorbent core constructed of novel material such that the absorbent core may be effectively held against a user’s body. p.s. running or exercising means the core ends up being all twisted out of its place and I have to change (also could mean leaks if bunched up, even tho D.A.C.T. not fully used). pilots should have some similar contortions and problem should be worsened because of the extra G’s. Accordingly, there is a need to produce an absorbent core of multiple constructions, that can both facilitate absorptive capability and enough rigidity to provide a fit allowing for greater body contact. A contoured section of liquid-permeable material is made integral to the topsheet and fitted for bodily topography more minute than what can be provided by the absorbent article’s chassis. The density of the material construction prevents contortion of the top, body-facing layer, while the more absorptive celluloid layer follows the shaping of the top layer, and is regardless not integral to the immediate absorptive action of the core. test 1 feels “wet” much quicker than last version (to be expected) from the smaller volume of the true absorbent core. not good enough for extended use. more comfortable and feels more snug, more like “regular” underwear because of a better fit. lasts just as long as prev. during exercise. A further revision to the absorbent core construction should be made to remedy the decreased volume of absorbent material. A quantity of polymer-based material is arranged at the edge regions of the absorbent core, that do not need to absorb immediate quantities of liquid upon use of the absorbent core, but should still contain liquid as liquid is distributed along the core. The polymer material is suitable for its slower rate of absorption but greater liquid retention property. It is not made integral to regions of the garment, but the dense construction of the core ensures that the material is contained in desired areas. 2 absorbs more and D.A.C.T. still feels better than before topsheet changed. much easier to exercise for longer and now I can trust the “feeling” on the D.A.C.T. because it can absorb to the full capacity. light running for thirty minutes did not leak or bunch absorbent core and underwear was still usable after. nov03 Upon seeing the first silver jet’s wheels kiss the earth with quick screeches and puffs of smoke, the army of brightly-suited figured swarm like ants over the runway. They scour the skies for the procession of Ultra Sabres in this one’s wake that are to be attended to. Just this once, the air is not pregnant with the question of who had succumbed to the hellish Polish skies. The report had arrived at the tower already – clean sweep. Only the mechanics refuse to share in the squadron's jubilation. They curse and light cigarettes, ready for another sixteen-hour shift working on the planes that will be shot up mere hours after all repairs are complete. The sleek warbirds had not escaped unscathed. Oily smoke billows from jet exhausts. Multicolored liquids drip from cowlings onto the tarmac below. Virtually every aircraft has been wracked with countless new perforations from flak and aircraft cannons. North American was never shy about their alarms. For the entire flight back home from Poland, Jo was subjected to the merciless chimes of three different systems crying foul, none of which had any bearing on her ability to land the plane at base. Their cries were so incessant that she could just but shut them out of her mind. That much could not be said for her accident in the fray. Jo wouldn’t have it any other way. She could never allow herself to have an accident and feel anything but utter disgust. But her special underwear was making that pursuit damned difficult. The DACT felt dry as as a bone after that fighter materialized to the right – even after Jo realized her bladder had become completely empty. For all Cynthia Bell’s wizardry, though, the trunks could do little to conceal the mess that Jo made when the flak grazed her plane. She’d sat in it the whole way back and wanted to puke each second of it. The alarms finally fell silent as Jo completed her taxi and killed her plane’s engine, allowing the fans to wind their way down in the humid air. More than anything, she wanted to strip out of the sweaty g-suit and soiled DACT and jump into civvies. A nice long smoke and a glass of coke wouldn’t hurt either. With her fingers dancing over the switches that completed shutdown procedure, Jo was ready to jump out of the cockpit and back to sumptuous Air Force life. The cockpit opened and she brought herself over the fuselage sill, down the ladder that had been wheeled out by the team of scrawny boys. “’Scuse me, ma’am, ‘scuse me!” There was a woman amidst them that Jo hadn’t noticed. A cook or a nurse, judging by her skinny arms. She was holding bundle of blue cloth. Trouble. “That’s Major to you.” The girl balked at Jo’s angry growl. She’d shot the messenger. “Well, erm, so… some big general-type came in from France. So, Colonel Gordon wants you in this.” She held out the bundle expectantly. Parade uniform. Ridiculous and sweltering. “Only in the fucking Chair Force, right?”. The girl just nodded, and as soon as Jo took the uniform, slunk away with her head lowered. Not a peep came from the ground crew as Jo crumpled the neatly folded cloth and stormed off to the hangar. She’d just known today’s luck wouldn’t last. Those pompous bastards wouldn’t ever let up. Liz had already filed away her logs when Jo finally found the shade of the hangar. “Hustle up, Jo, they want us to report in 10”. “What the hell, where are we gonna change?” "The hangar, for the boys.” Liz giggled and cocked a half-smile. “But I think I’ll do it in the bushes. Watch my six?” “Fat chance. These goddamned papers.” The lieutenant pouted. “Fine, then.” She leaned in over Jo’s shoulder. “By the way, Major, do you need any, ahem, parade pads?” She’d hardly finished the sentence before breaking into giggles again. “What?” “Nothing, nothing! But if you need them, they’re in my locker.” Parade pads? Jo suddenly remembered the idle chatter from when she was in training. From when the parades were long, the days were hot, and the cadets had small bladders. She’d no problem making it through the ceremonies herself, but come to think of it, no doubt some of her squirming compatriots had come around with “protection”. Old habits die hard for them, huh? But her smug smirk was wiped off her face upon realizing that she still had a soiled DACT to change. To make it worse, she’d no change of either panties or another DACT within a mile of her. A sprint back to the huts was out of the question, and so was asking somebody for a pair. Even changing into the uniform would be a struggle. It was either running the risk of a wandering pilot seeing the soiled trunks, or the disgusting outhouse. Damned hell. She emerged three minutes and seven second later clad in the blue blouse and skirt aborning each ray of the sun and passing the heat onto brass buttons that would be untouchable in half an hour. Her head baked under the jauntily tilted cap, and her broad feet chafed in the too-narrow leather flats. At least the squadron shared in her irritation at Brigadier General Medina’s visit, and implicit bequest that they bake alive under the hot summer sun. With her focus drawn to absolutely nothing in the forever wait, Jo couldn’t help but become gradually aware of the slight twinge in her bladder. Too much water on the way back. She regretted forgoing using the outhouse while she changed, in reluctance to pulling down the soiled trunks without cleaning. But now there was nothing to do but hope the ceremony would be over soon. In due time, the jeep pulled onto the tarmac, the bugles played, and the flags were flown. A doddering man with salt-and-pepper hair walked with arrogant righteousness in front of the stoic soldiers, trying his best to find a fault to turn his nose up at. Half the squadron didn’t know his name and the other half regretted to have learned it, but none broke their stonefaced gaze as the crisply uniformed man went about his impossibly slow inspection. All the while Jo was sweating bullets into the smothering fabric, but noticed most of all the thick padding of her DACT that drenched her crotch in a heavy sweat. If she could feel no moisture earlier, she could certainly feel it now. She barked orders at her subordinates without her heart in it. Each marching step made it all the more obvious that there was a mess in the back of her underwear. Each passing second put more pressure on her already swollen bladder. All the while the sun’s rays sucked the life from each pilot in the squadron. Jo pirouetted on her heel to face the neat rows of blue, searching their expressions for any indication that her predicament had been noticed. But she found only faces of sculpted stone, betraying no sign of anything amiss, no glimmer of anybody who sharing her urgent need for relief. She set her eyes on curly-haired Liz, knowing full well that the sergeant had probably made use of her “parade pad”, and realized that any number of the ladies could have taken up Liz’s offer. Jo scowled. In the skies, those girls could hold their water no better than she; it was little wonder that they would need the protection just to get through this ceremony. But Jo had made sure they all knew that hell would freeze over before Major Simmons would think of doing the same. Cut the crap and scat, you old bastard! By now, her bladder’s howl had made even the heat seem bearable. She could hear each slow, dignified step of the old man behind her but dared not turn her head and break formation. Just a few more paces back to his jeep and this whole damned charade would finish, and everybody could go back to the cool mess hall. Her jaw clenched in anticipation. The old man was at her side now, still walking that pompous walk back towards the rickety jeep. Can he be any slower? He stopped and turned, in a pirouette that rivaled the Earth’s rotation in speed. “Major Simmons! Report to the base!” Jo almost wet herself right there and then. It took all her effort and then some to reign in her bladder from the jaws of defeat, and bark a grimaced “Yes, sir!”. Behind, her subordinates let out a collective sigh of relief at their dismissal. Damned to fucking hell! So close, but her battle had still more to be fought. The son of a bitch just wouldn’t let her catch a break today. Every step she took at Medina’s pace was a round of torture, threatening to let loose every last drop of pee from her bursting belly. She had no inkling of if she could make it to the base or not. Prayer and her whole body’s effort kept her at least dry throughout the endless trek. Grabbing the doorknob and being assailed with the blast of cold indoors air stole away her mind for a tenth of a second – all that was needed for a hot trickle of pee to escape into the padding below. The searing stream dropped her stomach, and it took Jo every fiber of her being to stop before she soaked herself. When the door closed behind the general, her face was red and new beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead. I’ll blame it on the heat. The general and his lieutenant sat her down in a spartan room adorned with only a faded map and chalkboard. Jo only just managed to stay dry in the motion of sitting on the black folding chair. Her legs were clenched tightly together, and her body leaned all the way on the metal seat’s edge. The folds of her skirt fell around her lap, covering even the obvious white cotton of the DACT from anybody’s view. Not that Jo had any mind to think about that, or even notice that she had set all her weight upon the mess that was still in the trunks. Medina’s pleasantries were torture. The thought of easing half her bladder into the trunks bounced in her mind, but Jo knew she was past the point where she could stop the torrent of urine that was sure to escape if she let go. Besides, she could not gauge how much more the trunks could hold after her first accident in the air. The fabric didn’t feel too wet, but in this position, the heavy padding was pulled away from her. She thought back to when she put the trunks on, how they hugged her figure almost like a pair of panties, and she wondered how much weight she had gained to make them fit like that. That feeling was gone now. “...and for the courageous service and great discipline of your squadron, it is my honor to offer every pilot a bonus of seven hundred dollars, effective today.” “Very good, General…” Shit. She shot a glance towards the old man’s lapel. “Gordon”. Saved- Her jubilation was cut short by the realization that in the brief moment, her bladder’s tenuous hold had finally given up. Her eyes widened as she felt the long torrent of urine escape her body and into the DACT, to be collected by padding that she could not feel against her. But in that moment she could spare no concentration towards that thought. The silence was hanging heavy. “I… shall inform my men”. The words came out in a slow, labored growl. All the while the long stream of hot piss was still pouring from crotch. She bit her tongue and cheeks to avoid turning red. General Gordon furrowed his brow. “Then I shall take my leave. Once again, I congratulate you and your men for your fight for God and our great country”. The words did not resonate with Jo at all. She had finally regained her continence, only to find that she had just about emptied herself into the DACT. Not even into – onto. She leaned back in her seat, and suddenly felt the consequences of her accident. The mortifying horror of feeling the warm wetness all over her rear, along the fabric of her trunks where pee would not be absorbed. There was the padding, held against her – this time, the trunks had swollen enough to again fit tightly against her body, only now the wetness was obvious. The DACT had failed her now, in the worst of all times. Her face wanted to burn a bright red but Jo had set herself to pretending that nothing had happened. The general and lieutenant seemingly noticed nothing as they stood up. She did not dare to look down and inspect her seat, for fear of drawing the officers’ eyes towards her crotch. Something to distract, quick! It would be Lucky Strikes to save her this time. “Want a cig?” Gordon turned his nose up. “Oh, I don’t smoke. The tastes revolts me”. His lieutenant said nothing. They began their shuffle out the door. Jo’s heart dropped and stood still as they shuffled past, without a word on their lips. Their eyes crawled past her, past her seat, and into the hallway. Only then did the dare to stand up and found in the shiny meat a liquid imprint in her seat. A brush to the back of her short skirt found a spot of wetness, but a glance down revealed nothing on the front. Salvation. Just as long as she stayed behind the duo. The walk to the jeep was longer than the walk from it. All the men had deserted the tarmac in the time she had been away, but her eyes could not stop darting around in a search for anybody that might notice her accident. Jo had never felt such joy at the sun’s beating heat, in her hope that the rays would be quick to dry up her pee. Even so, she dared not turn around from behind the general until their jeep had but disappeared into the distance. Only then could she set her racing mind towards what to do now. She wanted with all her heart to dash toward her hut, strip out of everything and forget this whole day, but suddenly remembered that little puddle of pee on the seat, that she would have to wipe away before anybody could string together what she had done in that meeting. With the thought of having to beat everybody there, Jo broke into a run, flats and all, but stopped abrupt upon feeling the extra motion work a hot trickle down her leg. She blushed a deep red as all the embarrassment flowed up and emptied into her chest, and resigned herself to a careful and deliberate walk back towards the scene of her accident. Past the glass doors, pass the blast of cold air. Jo scanned the hall quickly and found no sign of activity since she left. With little relief, she dashed into the ladies’ room, scampering for some paper to clean up with. The grimy room was deserted, and seemed to have been for quite a while. Only Jo’s hurried footsteps broke the silence as she hurried herself into a stall and shut the door behind her. A wad of toilet paper would have to do for cleanup. After stuffing the bundle of one-ply into her skirt pocket, Jo found the realization that even her accident from earlier had not fully emptied her. With the leaking DACT still on her mind, she didn’t hesitate to squat over the toilet and relieve herself, only to realize that she’d still no panties to change herself into. Son of a fucking bitch. Now, she was faced with putting the still-soiled trunks back on again or going commando for the walk back to the huts. It was an all too easy choice to make, but Jo’s face was still flushed a bright red as she cleaned herself up as best she could with the toilet paper. She turned to flush the toilet with the jug of blue liquid, and immediately found that she had no place to throw away her soiled DACT. No way the liquid was strong enough to dissolve the trunks, but Jo also had no intention leaving the stall and tossing it somewhere discreet. With resignation, she balled up the sodden padding and stuffed it into the small trash receptacle on the wall, finding that the canister couldn’t even close properly with evidence of her accident disposed of. It would have to do. I wasted to much time in there. Jo bounded down the empty hallways, her unclothed crotch be damned, on her way to the room where she’d wet herself. Mercifully, the room was empty. It was unimaginable to her that she could be so happy upon finding her own puddle of urine, but there it was – the proof that her accident had not been discovered. A quick wipe with the wad of toilet paper removed the evidence, and she was out the room in the blink of an eye, ready to send the last vestige of her accident into the septic tank. The bathroom was right down the hall; she walked briskly and with purpose towards it, almost running to be free of what she’d done. She was only a few steps away when it happened – the door to the bathroom suddenly swung open. Her heart leapt and her steps screeched to a halt; had she not been to the toilet earlier, the cocktail of relief and sudden surprise might have worked a few drops of urine straight onto the linoleum floor below. “Heya, Jo? What’cha doing here?” Liz! The last person Jo wanted to see. “Just finishing some… paperwork. From… my meeting.” She was suddenly aware of the clump of wet toilet paper she was holding, thankfully hidden behind her back. The girl giggled. “Oh? Hey, hey, is it bring your kid to work day? You won’t believe what somebody put in the garbage can! I found a baby’s diaper! A lady must’a changed their kid but she just dumped it right there! Hey, do we know which lady had a baby?” Jo’s heart stopped. “Oh… erm… strange….” Liz squinted, but her mouth didn’t stop. “Did’ja see anybody creepin’ around here?” “No…” “Oh, oh, was it you? Wait, before the parade… Hey, it wasn’t you wearing that, could it be?” “Q-quit it.” Jo grimaced at the waver in her voice betraying her forced stoic expression. She prayed that Liz wouldn’t notice. The young woman seemed none the wiser. “Aw, you’re breaking my heart! You can always tell me anything! See ya!” She did an exaggerated hop and pirouette and skipped out the door. Jo was finally left alone, fully commando, clutching a wad of toilet paper soaked with her own pee, and with a face once again completely flushed with humiliation. Fucking Liz… she’d… better keep her mouth shut.
  5. The preceding events as masterfully illustrated by livinginfinite who can be found here https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=2453086 “G...gears this far west?” she asked with an uncharacteristic quiver in her gravely voice. The pink haired swordswoman trembled at the thought. Her thighs trembled and a gush of liquid warmth soaked into her wrappings. She squeezed her muscles as best she could and quivered; urine dribbled down her thighs. The sensation of liquid running down her thigh tapered off as she managed to regain control of her bladder. For the one armed woman there was nothing more terrifying that a gear. They were the reason she’d lost her arm… and one of her eyes as well. She could still remember finding out Sol was a gear, losing control of her bowels. The sensation of her own solid waste uncontrollably starting to fill her tight wraps. It was something she was humiliatingly all too familiar with. The foul smell, the sticky sensation, the heavy weight in her would be panties… she shook her head. At least it hadn’t been a full voiding and the man holding the magical phone hadn’t noticed her release. The voice she was speaking with grunted in acknowledgment. “Yes, we’ve been tracking their movements through the prefecture and one seems to have wandered away from the main group.” he said. “I’ll… I’ll handle it.” she said, swallowing nervously. “Good, let us know when it’s done… and get a magiphone. It’s irksome trying to get a hold of you.” he said before the line clicked silent. Baiken flipped the roaming phone operator a coin as a tip. He bowed his head in thanks before hurrying off holding the odd magic stick that harnessed the power of magic to enable long distance communications. She lowered her eyes, staring at her hand. It was trembling… pulling the gourd from her back and popped the cork open guzzling down a few mouthfuls of sake. She sighed, steadying her nerves with alcohol. After her last remedial potty training course Dr. Faust had urged her to quit drinking but she wasn’t about to give that up. Checking over her shoulder to make sure the operator was gone she tugged her loose fitting kimono open to inspect her cotton wrappings. She bit her lip… soaked… The pink haired woman squirmed, rubbing her thighs together. She could still feel a vague urge to go but for now she could hold it. How many times had she been burned by that thought before… It didn’t matter, she needed to press on. She didn’t have time to remove her wrappings and redress herself. Ironically switching to the cheaper disposable cotton wrappings instead of the more expensive panties she kept ruining only worsened her ability to make it to the bathroom. Instead of just tugging them down they had to be arduously unwrapped which led to many incidents standing bowlegged in front of the toilet, starting the process only to lose control in her underclothes. Tugging a small journal from her belt she made a note of the incident. January 18th… she paused to look up through the trees. Noon, small leak. She wrote, under reporting the severity of her little incident. Another one of that mad doctor’s ridiculous ideas… a voiding diary. She stowed the pencil and let the little book fall to her waist. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword and took off at a quick pace not relishing the thought of the rash she was likely to get feeling the wet fabric rubbing against her womanhood. Even though it should have dried by the time she arrived at her overnight halt the physical exertion of running was enough to continually cause her weak bladder to leak. She would have held her bowels too if it wasn’t for the witch flower’s pollen which had caused a sneezing fit. Her wraps were completely drenched and the small lump of mush she had expelled had smeared and squished during her vigorous movement staining the entirety of the seat of her undergarments. Before even cleaning up when she arrived at her room dutifully she penciled in what had happened to her journal. “Faust had better be able to help after this.” she growled, snapping the diary shut. Letting her robes fall away she continued undressing and made her way to the bath tub where she could let down her wild pink hair and relax in the hot water. If Dr. Faust was to be believed she wasn’t the only one with such an issue but when pressed he would always state doctor patient confidentiality and keep his lips sealed. He’d tried to get her to try wearing protective undergarments but no matter the euphemism they were diapers and she wasn’t a child! In the end after her disastrous attempt at remedial potty training he had offered her a wager. He would give her time to improve on her own giving her some recommendations to follow. There was no way the proud samurai could turn down a wager. If she didn’t show markable improvement upon their next meeting she would agree to wear diapers. She ruminated on her little wager nearly falling asleep whilst she basked in the warmth of the water. Finally climbing out of the tub she dried herself and trudged to bed. It had been a long day of traveling and she was weary. The warm embrace of sleep quickly whisked her away after dressing for bed. The land of sleep wouldn’t allow her to escape her little issue. Having always struggled with bedwetting and often even nighttime bowel movements tonight was no different. In her fitful sleep she dreamt of capture. “This is a fine blade.” the female gear mused as she examined Baiken’s prized edge. “Baiken, we meet again.” the red skirted woman spoke in a seductive tone. She strained against the bindings keeping her tied to the chair. Even though she was face to face with I-no somehow she wasn’t scared. Her burning desire for vengeance fueled her anger. “I’ll destroy you the second I free myself.” she snarled, muscles straining and bulging as she struggled. “Ohohoho will you now?” the woman laughed sadistically. “No little human I don’t think you will.” she said. “You can’t even break free of a simple yarn binding.” she said, pointing to the ‘rope’ that held her. Baiken’s eyes widened at what she saw. It wasn’t a tick rope like she’d thought but a simple yarn… it felt as if it were unbreakable steel! “You’re weak.” she purred leaning close to captured Baiken, licking her ear. The swordswoman whimpered and tried tugging at her bonds again; they barely budged. “You’ve been a past for far too long hunting down master.” she said, stepping away from the sitting woman. Her muscular thighs quivered. Now she could feel the fear running through her blood like an icy torrent. With her thumb I-no popped Baiken’s sword free from its sheathe drawing the fine blade and in an instant swinging the deadly blade towards her victim. Baiken’s face twisted with fear as the blade approached. Steaming urine started to pool around her thighs as her bladder rapidly expelled its contents in fright. The blade held a hairs width from her throat, parting the air as it approached. She clenched her eyes shut feeling the breeze caress the side of her face and the sound of a noisy wet bowel movement rose to their ears as she filled her wrappings with a soft formless mush. She trembled, catching her breath still mid bowel movement, grunting as she forced the last of the wet feces into her undergarment with a wet crackle. “Coward~” I-no’s voice taunted. She shot up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. Though, not the only liquid she was drenched in. The bed was absolutely soaked. She must have wet multiple times through the night. A huge wet splotch discolored the sheets under her and even worse… when she sat up she felt a massive bulge squish under her backside. Baiken flushed brightly with embarrassment, she could still remember Dr. Faust’s words about the matter the last time she had undergone the potty training class. Of the attendees she was the only one to soil her bedding. Before losing her nerve to record the humiliating event she quickly noted down what had happened in her voiding diary. There was no way to downplay a nighttime accident like this. At this rate she was destined for diapers she thought bitterly. All too used to these sorts of nighttime incidents such as this she pulled herself out of bed groaning at the large wet splotch and faint brown staining from her nocturnal release. Another shower followed stripping off her badly soiled wraps. Laying down a towel she collapsed back into bed. Staring out the window she could hear Faust’s irriitating voice in her head. “Protection will allow you to get a good night’s sleep as well.” he had chided her when she told him how many times a night she was woken up on average per night. Baiken grumbled under her breath yawning as she finally fell back asleep atop the towel she laid down. The distant crow of a rooster roused her from a thankfully dreamless sleep. Again though, her body had betrayed her. The wet splotch was even larger than she remembered. She must have urinated in her sleep once more… maybe twice. Baiken cursed loudly, the clammy sensation of wet sheets sending her into a foul mood. She’d come so close to staying dry at night but every time she ran into some sort of trouble her night time issues seemed to return. Leaving an extra tip on the nightstand to deal with the mess she’d made of her bedding Baiken quickly slipped out of the small inn not wishing to explain what she had done to yet another innkeeper. No sooner had she managed to leave the inn a roof shingle slipped from the aging roof shattering violently against the street next to her. She gasped in surprise readying her sword as her bladder spasmed. Her freshly changed wraps felt damp again. She huffed, realizing the source of the noise and let her sword drop back into its sheath before pressing on. Before she could leave the town another member of the communications guild stopped her. “Ms. Baiken, I have a collect call for you.” he said, a hint of unease in his voice. Her fearsome reputation with a sword preceded her. She waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, I’ll take it.” she growled, it was probably him again with more information about the gear who had broken away from the main contingent of hostile Gears. “Yes?” she asked with an irritated tone as the man lowered the antenna. His voice, the same as yesterday crackled into clarity. “A fortunate turn of events. It’s changed direction again. Headed towards you. Now’s your chance, it might be able to tell you something about That man. Take care of it Baiken… and get a damn phone already.” the voice said before the line went dead. She paled as a slow trickle of warm urine ran down her muscular leg. There was no putting it off any longer, she needed answers about That Man, it was just one gear; she’d fought them before… she could fight them again. Shutting her eyes she focused, steadying her breathing. Managing to stem the flow of urine dribbling down her leg she took a deep breath and quickly made her way from the town, leaving a small glittering puddle where her foot had been. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword as she darted through the forest. She was going to find this gear and make it tell her about That Man. Cutting her way through some of the denser underbrush with efficient sword strokes. Baiken was growing closer, she could feel it. Something about the way the air seemed almost electric. Her wraps had nearly dried on her run. Something she could take pride in not having dribbled any further., only a faint dampness remained from her earlier lapses in control. Slowly she drew her sword, slowing her breathing as she waited. The faint rustle of leaves in the wind was the only noise audible. The minutes rolled on as she waited. Finally the silence broke. Branches snapped noisily underfoot from some distance away. Her pupil dilated, her heart rate quickened with a surge of adrenaline and her bladder trembled with nerves loosening another spurt of warm liquid that would soak into her wraps. The shuffling footsteps didn't sound like a normal gait. Instead they were uneven, almost as if it were stumbling, was it damaged? What she could hear filled her with an uneasy confidence. Her legs trembled with fear as the distant footsteps grew closer. Now that the reality of facing down a rogue gear was growing closer the occasional spurts and dribbles of urine had turned into a near steady stream. Translucent yellowed liquid continually trailed down her thighs dribbling into the grass underneath her sandals. Her bowels felt heavy and in a distant corner of her mind she could feel her anus quiver. It emerged from behind a tree, stumbling as it tripped over a root. Reaching out it steadied itself on a tree. It's form was lithe and delicate. The Gear spotted Baiken immediately, jerking it's head in the direction of the swordswoman. She swallowed dryly as its eyes fell on her. If one didn't know any better it could have been mistaken as just a beautiful young woman albeit in a strange state of dress. Tattered cloth barely covered her breasts and nethers and more than one seam was visible in the skin of her arms. It must have been a prototype or some defective Gear. Gear's like I-no and Sol were perfect specimens of magical origin. Her breathing had grown shallow in the tense moments of the stare down and while she'd managed to steady her sword-hand her quivering bladder had given up. A torrential downpour of urine flowed down her legs dampening her kimono in spots. Its eyes flashed red and it opened its mouth as if to speak. Baiken panicked, images of her village burning to the ground flashed through her head, her parents massacred, her friends destroyed. Her knees had bent slightly of her body's own accord and when she finally came to her senses she realized she was in the process of uncontrollably vacating her bowels. Baiken's stomach tensed as her muscles moved on their own. Had she another hand she would have desperately pressed it against her bottom in a last ditch effort to prevent the seemingly inevitable expulsion. A soft brown paste slowly piled into her urine soaked wraps. Under her kimono the tight cotton fabric began to stretch and sag accommodating the freshly released waste. The pink haired woman could feel it squishing between her muscular cheeks, coating her bottom with sticky mush as she continued to grunt and void herself. She had to move before it struck! Taking a decisive step forward before bursting into a sprint she could feel her body push the rest of the wet stool into her wrappings with a noisy wet splortch; feeling that muddy heaviness weighing down her underwear, jiggling with every movement. Closing the gap in mere seconds she found her strength and ran the Gear through with her sword cleanly impaling it through the midsection before it could react. Withdrawing her sword the still urinating Samurai sheathed it as she felt the last of her bladders contents finally run down her legs. Sparks jetted from the exist wound... that wasn't supposed to happen. Baiken shielded her eyes hopping back staring warily at the figure. Gears were more man than machine. The figure collapsed, twitching into a broken heap. Whatever this was it wasn't a Gear. "Oh dear oh dear." a voice suddenly called out. It was precisely then the woman realized that the rear of her Kimono had been tugged up exposing her bulging undergarments. Her eyes widened with surprise as she whirled around again. "Kyaah! Freak!" she shouted, immediately recognizing the voice of her doctor; the... less than traditional Dr. Faust. She blushed brightly upon realizing that he'd been looking up her Kimono to inspect the state of her underwear. "You!" she growled, clenching her sword. He seemed unbothered by the threatening stance taken by the dangerous woman as he scrawled something into a notebook. "Yes yes, that is concerning." he mused. "What... what is concerning!?" she asked waving her sword towards him. "Well..." he began, striking a pose and pausing for dramatic effect. "First I must attend to my robo Gear." the extremely tall and extremely eccentric man spoke; pointing towards the collapsed and still occasionally twitching 'woman'. Baiken huffed, sheathing her sword. As the good doctor walked with his odd elongated motions towards the downed construct she awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, tugging on the fabric of her soiled wraps. "There we are." he exclaimed pressing his wiry fingers into a few specific spots. In a comedic display of precision the automoton popped off the ground and folded itself into a rectangular shape landing into Faust's open and waiting briefcase. He opened his white coat and thrust the briefcase inside. Where it actually went Baiken had no idea. Not even the Post War Administration Bureau truly understood the breadth and source of Faust's occult mastery beyond his scientific and medical genius. "Now, as I was saying." he turned back to Baiken, speaking with an eloquence one wouldn't expect from a lunatic wearing a paper bag for a mask. "At first estimate it would appear you've regressed in terms of your involuntary control." he noted. As clinical as he attempted to be with his words it still brought a fiery blush to Baiken's cheeks. "and your unintentional defecation made you hesitate for roughly 4.7 seconds. If that had been a real Gear it could have taken advantage of your bowel movement and struck first; wounding you or worse..." he mused. "If you would please raise your kimono for me?" he requested. She glowered at him."Please, I must compare your release with your past averages. You do remember our little agreement right?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Of course I remember." she spat. Slowly she turned her back to him and begrudgingly gripped the sides of her Kimono carefully tugging it up until her ruined wraps came into view beneath the hem of her robe. She could feel his intense gaze probing her dirtied undergarments. "As I thought." he spoke to himself. "A release of 730 grams of feces. That's almost twenty more than your average." he estimated, sounding distressed. "Without regular potty training it seems your issues have been getting worse." Faust exclaimed. "Have you at least been following the exercises I showed you?" he asked, demonstrating the ridiculous crouching motions as he continued to barrage her with questions. "Have you had any change in diet? Reduced your alcohol intake like I recommended? Have you been sleeping well? How is your general fluid intake? Oh and my I see your voiding diary?" he asked. She let the hem of her Kimono fall, once again concealing her shameful accident from sight. If only it would conceal the foul smell hanging around her, making it quite obvious she'd had a very messy accident in her pants. Tugging the small book off her hip Baiken thrust the private journal towards him. "No, no, no, no and poor." she said with a grumble, answering his questions. He wilted somewhat at her petulant response "As your physician I promised to help you with your issues that you came to me for assistance with. I can only do so much and forgive me for being blunt but if you ever want to stop pooping your pants like a child you'll take my advice seriously!" he reprimanded her. "You showed some promise during your first potty training classes. I'll admit you had some setbacks... but..." he trailed off. Baiken flinched, taking a long swig of rice wine from the gourd she kept strapped over her shoulder. "I apologize for the deception and roping Anji into all this but it was the only way to properly gauge your progress without putting you in any real danger." he resumed. I think it is clear that you are not ready to be out of diapers." he said, flicking through her voiding diary, scanning the pages with incredible speed. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I have helped many other patients in similar situations achieve more manageable levels on continence." he said. "and I believe we had a wager did we not? You were insistent you could improve on your own and I gave you the opportunity to prove yourself but it seems your continence has only worsened." he explained as he rummaged around in his coat once more and pulled out an extremely thick diaper. The color drained from her cheeks as she saw what awaited her. The pink designs that adorned the white plastic shell brought an embarrassed scowl to her face. Faust noticed her expression and frowned. "Is it not to your liking? I thought it would match your hair." he said innocently. "and the Colossus is the only protective incontinence garment rated to keep your bedding dry. Since you're such a heavy daytime wetter it would simplify things to wear the same garment day and night." he said methodically. "I... I'm not wearing that. It looks ridiculous!" Baiken said. "It's for children it's... give me another chance. I'll prove myself. I can... I don't want to wear that." she nearly pleaded, her eyes watering with shame. "One more chance?" he asked with a nonplussed sigh. He'd known she was stubborn but to be this stubborn!? "Fine." he said quickly. Wasting no time at all he waved his hands around in the air in front of Baiken who watched in confusion. Every few moments he would poke her muscular stomach. She had learned a long time ago not to question what he was doing unless she wanted a long confusing lecture about matters that she didn't understand. He finished shortly after he'd begun and after one final poke he cleared his throat. "You'll feel the effects momentarily. Hold it for five minutes and I'll..." he began before be was interrupted by a distressed cry of surprise from the vengeful woman. "Ayiiiiii what did... you do!?" she grimaced in discomfort, holding her stomach with her hand. "Like I was saying..." he tried to continue before Baiken groaned loudly and squatted, spreading her thighs wide parting her kimono as a cacophony of unladylike noises erupted from her backside. All of a sudden she'd had to go again. That was his idea of another chance? "I... nnng I'm... ahhh I'm shitting." she grunted crassly as she defecated in her already full wraps. Any pretense of control had long since past. A fresh wetness blossomed on the crotch of her wraps and a powerful stream flowed through the simple cotton undergarment. The pale yellow arc of liquid splattered noisily against the forest floor as the wet stain on her groin began to encompass the entirety of her wrappings. The sudden relief was overwhelming, almost orgasmic. Her grunts and groans nearly turned into moans as fresh waste was pushed into her fully soiled wraps. Faust watched in surprise as she lost control immediately. Mayhaps he had overdone things... just a bit... "nnng m...make it stop..." she groaned, clenching her eye shut. Owing to the tightness of her wraps some of her waste had started to spill out over the top smearing her lower back and the inside of her kimono. "I'll wear it... I'll wear it..." she groaned, gasping before giving one final grunt pushing out a firm log that clearly distended her wraps beyond the lumpy bulge. Panting for breath it was finally over. "I.. thought you would be able to hold it until you were at least able to undo your underwear. It was not my intent to make you soil yourself" Faust said apologetically, holding his hands out for emphasis. "Please allow me to assist you." he said, dutifully moving towards her. "I can do it myself." she growled, slowly, carefully starting to stand. Despite how careful her movements were the mess in her wraps made a wet squelching noise as she stood, forcing some of it down her thigh. "With one arm you'll have difficultly applying the diaper properly, not to mention cleaning yourself up." he said, continuing to move towards her. "Fine." she grumbled. Undoing the tie around her waist she let her kimono fall open carefully removing it to avoid further soiling the expensive outfit. Hanging it over a nearby branch she folded her arms over her chest standing in nothing but her filthy wraps. "Go on then." she commanded, blushing brightly. Faust was already humming merrily to himself, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves having retrieved cleaning supplies from who knows where. It was a time consuming process and while she would never admit it she was glad she didn't have to clean the shit off her backside. He was surprisingly gentle with his touch and working in such close proximity to her womanhood was enough to inspire a blush in her cheeks for a different reason. On more than one occasion did she have to stifle the urge to moan as he tended to her. Finally it was done, she was clean and her destroyed wraps disposed of. "All done." he said proudly, removing the gloves. "Oh, but I would recommend shaving." he commented clinically, pointing to the pink pubic hair that adorned her groin. "Purely for sanitary reasons." he said before laying his jacket on the forest floor. "If you would lie down Ms. Baiken. I will show you how to fasten a diaper." he said gesturing for her to lay down. "Fine." she grunted towards him, maintaining her standoffish attitude. She lowered herself onto the makeshift mat as instructed. Retrieving the thickly padded diaper he'd set aside he began unfolding it showing her the difference between the front and the back, how to apply the tapes and how to ensure a snug fit; after all what would be the point of wearing protection just to have it leak? "Go ahead and lift your hips please." he asked. Baiken having accepted what was coming followed his instructions allowing him to slide the fresh garment under her. She sat back down with a faint rustle from the plastic. "I'll let you do the rest." he offered, allowing her some modicum of pride. It proved to be much more difficult than anticipated. With one hand she couldn't quite pull it tight enough and then apply the tape. After struggling with multiple attempts she finally asked for help. "Doctor... I can't..." she admitted quietly, averting her gaze in angry frustration. To think that something so simple could elude her grasp. "I'm sure you can... it's just practice." he said without a care in the world before proceeding to tape the thick garment tightly around her toned hips. "and there we are." he said proudly. Pulling herself to her feet the noisy crinkling was immediately audible. and brought a blush to her cheeks. "Everyone will hear it!" she protested, taking her kimono from the branch where it hung. "Nonsense, it's not that loud." he lied to assuage her pride. "It's so thick! I can hardly close my legs." she continued with her observations, glancing over her shoulder down at her padded butt. "You will get accustomed to it but hopefully with enough progress we can switch to something thinner." he incentivized her. She shot him an angry look as she tugged on her kimono concealing her childish diaper. Baiken inspected herself from each angle making sure it wasn't visible. "You can't even tell." Faust reassured her. She looked at him skeptically before finally accepting his words. It was for the best... no more wet sheets at night, no more sodden thighs and stains on her kimono. "Now if you'll follow me. I've enrolled you in remedial potty training. It's starting tomorrow." he said, grabbing her by the wrist leading her off with a surprised yelp before she could even get in a word of protest. Already the pink pictures that adorned her diaper had started to fade. The doctor decidedly had his work cut out for him.
  6. (Just a little advertisement first, we've recently formed a Council discord channel. So if you're into proud tough ladies getting into embarrassing situations, getting spooked and having humiliating accidents shoot me a dm. We've got a handful of likeminded authors and artists) Welcome to the sequel of, One huge thank you to my wonderful girlfriend and editor who puts up with my atrocious grammar. Without any further interruptions, enjoy. Baiken huffed as she laid down for a change. The audible squish of clammy, sodden padding underneath her kimono brought a blush to her cheeks. Rivulets of urine dribbled over the plastic shell. The garment had been completely saturated during the night. “It would help if you learned to do these things yourself.” the doctor said, taking a moment to strike an exaggerated pose while he thought. Baiken just growled at him. “It’s difficult with one arm, and if you’re going to make me wear them, then you’re going to change them!” she snapped. “Okay, okay!” he said, holding his hands out, knowing how ill-tempered she could be...especially in the morning. “But look at the progress you have made.” he beamed. She stared back at him, nonplussed. Whatever he was so jovial about she didn’t seem to see it. “Progress, no matter how small, is still progress!” he exclaimed. Reaching into his surgical coat, he rummaged around for a moment before yanking out a sheet of stickers. The crude woman clenched her jaw with displeasure. His methods were embarrassing to say the least. Peeling off one of the stickers, he thrust it forward, sticking it to the “progress” chart in the wet row. She rubbed her face with embarrassment. “I’m not a child, are those really necessary?” she growled again already knowing the answer. “You agreed to follow my methods.” he commented with a shake of his head. “And I’m the doctor!” he added before shoving the stickers back into his coat. “Like I was saying, progress! This is the first night since you arrived that you didn’t have a nocturnal bowel movement.” he exclaimed with pride as if he were a father helping his daughter potty train. The pink-haired woman looked unimpressed by the revelation. “I guess.” she begrudgingly admitted. It was true; since arriving in the city she’d been haunted each night by horrifying dreams. Memories of the past caused her to wake each day, diaper soaked with her own urine and the rear bulging with shit. It had been so bad that she’d leaked the first two nights; Faust insisted her bed be fitted with a protective mattress cover. To do that during the day was one thing but even while she slept! Baiken shuddered, recalling the sticky muddy sensation of a dirtied diaper that she’d spent all night sleeping in. “In addition, you’ve had fewer incidents these past three days!” he added encouragingly. Faust gestured to the chart that was filled with stickers; she couldn’t bring herself to look. Baiken didn’t have to look to know how bad it was. The unbidden dribble of urine into the thirsty padding around her groin seemed never ending. When she wasn’t in ‘class’, most of her day was spent doing menial labor around the compound. Baiken cynically suspected that Faust was just too cheap to hire a cleaner. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You’ll be happy to know that I’ll be getting another patient for precisely the same reason you’re here… well… not precisely the same reason. I shouldn’t be so specific. A similar reason?” he mused, searching for the right word. Baiken groaned, resisting the urge to snap at him again. “Change me before I get another rash.” she hissed. The doctor snapped out of his thoughts at her demand. “Oh, yes, of course!” Whistling a quiet tune through the ridiculous paper bag he wore as a mask, he began. She turned her head to the side, looking out the window as she tugged up the bottom half of her kimono. Cool air suddenly hit her naked skin, and the smell of stale pee tickled her nose. “You’ve been drinking more water too, excellent.” he noted, breaking his jovial whistling to offer her more praise. “Oh, and before I continue, do you still need the toilet?” he asked. There was no use in denying it; she had learned how insistent he could be. Best to just get it over with. Baiken nodded and felt him raising the front of her diaper, holding it back in place. She balled her fists and pushed. A weak stream dribbled from her urethra. The pink-haired woman could feel the warm liquid trickling down her slit, running over the bottom of her buttocks and pooling in the saturated garment before slowly being absorbed. “I’m done.” she grunted dismissively. “Wonderful.” he said before once again removing the wet diaper. “And lift.” he told her. She did as he requested, raising her hips for him as she felt the wet garment pulled away. Freedom, if only for a scant few minutes. She let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden chill touch of the sanitizing wipe. “Cold!” she growled at him. The first time he’d endeavored to change her in the morning she’d ended up urinating all over his hand… that had prompted him to begin asking if she still had to go. “Yes, sorry, sorry. I always forget.” he said absentmindedly. His apologies didn’t stop him from continuing his efforts to wipe the sheen of urine from her flesh. “And done, that wasn’t so bad.” he attempted to assuage her poor mood. She mockingly mouthed his words. It’s what he said every time… “and a fresh diaper.” he continued to narrate her change as he laid the garment on the table. Unfolding the thickly padded garment she instinctively lifted her hips, allowing Faust to slide the diaper under her. “How many more of those do you have? You said you’d order them without those stupid prints on them.” she groused. “Oh, but I think they’re adorable!” he exclaimed. “The pink pictures even match your hair.” he continued. Baiken’s eye twitched with irritation. That was not the answer she desired… “Soon, soon!” he said quickly, upon seeing the death glare. “At the rate you’re using them, I’d say another week or two… or three?” he said. It sounded like he didn’t even know. Baiken remained silent, allowing him to finish taping the diaper snugly around her hips. “All done, we’ll see you shortly for class. Make sure you eat breakfast.” he nattered before sliding out of the room. “What a weirdo…” she grumbled, swinging her legs over the side of the changing table. Standing from the table her kimono fell back into place, hiding her diaper once more. With him out of the room she approached the potty training chart, running her fingers over the myriad of stickers. So many accidents… her eyes watered with shame at the reminder and she stormed from the room. A short while later she reclined on the back two legs of the chair, belching loudly as she rubbed her stomach. A hearty breakfast of eggs and cured meats had satisfied her appetite for now. Since he was off tending to who knew what she’d even brewed a pot of coffee. His insistence on drinking water water water was incredibly tiresome and the caffeinated beverage warmed her insides as she sipped from the mug. She wondered who was going to be joining her suffering at Faust’s clinic. Maybe it’d be someone she’d met in her travels? Baiken gulped down the rest of the coffee and let the chair fall forward, returning to all four legs with a wooden clunk. Slamming the mug down, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her kimono. She stood up and immediately froze as a noisy wet splortch came from her diaper. She’d stood too quickly and accidentally messed her diaper. Gingerly reaching behind her she probed the seat of her padding. It wasn’t much but she could feel the slippery, sticky sensation of a small gooey dollop of poop between her cheeks. To make matters worse the gusset of the thick garment wasn’t dry anymore either. A small discolored patch caused the patterns to fade slightly. At least it was a small accident… it barely even counted! Baiken tossed her dishes in the sink, squirming in her diaper, before exiting to the courtyard. Her diaper could wait for now; she didn’t want to ask Faust for a change so soon… The morning sun was already creeping towards noon. It was only with Faust’s coercion that she was beginning to rise before midday at all! Now that she wasn’t up all night drinking it was a possibility. She spat on the ground with irritation. A bedtime… at her age! A heavy bladed axe waited for her with a pile of unsplit logs; wood for the fireplaces and the stoves. Hefting the large tool above her head she began the menial job. It was simple, honest work, and one of the few things Baiken moderately enjoyed here. At least she could keep her strength up! Still, it wasn’t a finely crafted weapon like her sword (which Faust had been adamant about locking up). He insisted that she was safe here, and that it was a place of healing, not violence. She scoffed at his words as they came back to he, and resumed splitting the wood. She let herself fall into the repetitive work. The rhythmic thumping of the axe blade masked the brief spurts of urine that dampened her diaper. Faust skittered back into the yard, peering towards Baiken as she labored. The dutiful doctor continued his peculiar gait towards the distracted woman. His diaper checks continued to take her by surprise, and this time was no exception. He leaned forward, craning his neck up underneath the hem of her kimono and shoving his face against the bottom of her diaper. She screamed in surprise, the axe flying from her hand at the apex of its arc. “FREAK!” she shouted as she whirled around, her heart beating against her chest. The unexpected startle had brought a spate of urine spattering noisily against the groin of her diaper. Her bowels had loosened as well. Already needing to relieve herself from the coffee, a loose watery movement exploded into her diaper, causing the garment to sag beneath her hips. “What are you doing!?” she barked at him, hands jammed between her legs, thighs quivering with the effort to control herself. “I was simply checking your diaper.” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Retrieving what she instantly recognized as her voiding journal he began to write. There was a silence between them… save for the sound of a babbling stream coming from between her legs. “Oh dear… I didn’t intend to startle you!” he apologized to the blushing woman. “Well… I need a change now…” she grumbled under her breath. “Yes… I ahh heard your release. Did you completely void?” he asked. Baiken did not appear pleased by the question. “Yes…” she spat. “I see.” he noted, jotting down something in the diary before beckoning her off to the changing area. “We should get you changed before class anyway. Your diaper was quite wet.” he said which she immediately denied. “No it wasn’t!” she retorted! “I was perfectly… almost perfectly dry!” she huffed, following him back to the changing room now with an awkward bow-legged stride. Desperately she attempted to avoid squishing the moderate bulge in her diaper any more than she already had. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up before you know it. We wouldn’t want to be late!” he said, grabbing her by the hand; suddenly he was pulling her across the courtyard in a near sprint. Her dirty diaper bounced against her bottom, squishing wetly with every step. Baiken’s protests fell on deaf ears. Unlike the earlier change which had only taken a few minutes, changing her after a full bowel movement took some time. Fortunately he was meticulous with his effort to keep her from getting a rash. The smell was atrocious; she pinched her nose shut as he tirelessly worked to clean the filth from her backside. It took a good fifteen minutes but in the end she was clean again and placed in a new diaper. “Oh dear… we’re already a few minutes late!” he said, scuttling out of the room without another word. She shook her head and trudged after him. This was undoubtedly her least favorite part of the day… since she’d failed out of his initial Bedwetting therapy class and been transferred to Beginning Potty Training for toddlers dealing with a bunch of brats was extremely irksome. Arriving in the classroom she could hear him apologizing for being late. “Sorry, Ms. Baiken had a little accident in her diaper and needed changing.” he told the classes which brought an uproar of giggles from the young children. “Shut up! That’s not true!” she lied, flustered by the doctor’s humiliating apology. So much for doctor patient confidentiality! “Ms. Baiken, language!” he scolded her. The crass samurai narrowed her eyes and took her seat in the rear of the class, cursing quietly to herself. Her diaper crinkled audibly as she sat. The lesson dragged on… and on… some of it was based in physiology some of it just sounded like gibberish but it was all dumbed down to such an inane level. She heard her name called and snapped to attention. “Ms. Baiken are you paying attention?” Dr. Faust’s voice asked. She growled back at him “Yes.” Even through his paper bag she could tell he was giving her a skeptical look. He paused the lecture and pointed at her dramatically “Then you’ll have no problem telling me. What is the first thing you do when you need to potty?” he asked, pensively waiting for her response. Baiken glowered at him and the simplicity of his questions. “You go to the pot…” she cleared her throat correcting herself. “The toilet.” she said smugly. The class burst out into giggles again at her expense. “Wrong!” he exclaimed, smacking the whiteboard. “Class, Ms. Baiken’s answer is why she is still wearing diapers. When you feel the need to potty, you…” he waited for the class to fill in the answer. There was a unanimous shout from the younger children. “Hold it.” they all said. A young girl patted Baiken on the thigh comfortingly. The pink-haired woman simply glowered at her until she retreated. Fortunately, she was spared embarrassment for the rest of the lesson… until she felt her stomach gurgle ominously. Fifteen minutes left… She straightened her posture, but that hardly helped her sudden, desperate predicament. Breakfast had caught up with her, and to make matter worse, that nagging urge in her bladder had returned as well. She fidgeted where she sat, muscular thighs bobbing up and down. Asking to use the bathroom… there was only a few more minutes left… she could already hear the children giggling if she asked to excuse herself. She glanced up at Faust, still blathering on as per usual. Somehow he seemed to without fail capture the attention of the children with his lessons. She snorted with derision at the idea of a psychopath like him teaching anything useful to children. Her short laughter had been louder than intended; Faust paused his lesson cocking his head a full ninety degrees to the side. “Ms. Baiken, is there something you would like to share with the class?” he asked. The samurai could feel a multitude of eyes all on her. She waved her hand dismissively, attempting to deflect the attention. “Nothing important.” The doctor did not look amused with her answer. “Would you be so kind as to join me at the front of the class?” he asked… His tone of voice however...she could tell it wasn’t a request. “Is that really necessary?” she retorted. “You agreed to follow my rules and guidelines! I expect you to set a good example for the children, but your outbursts have been very distracting today! Isn’t that right, class?” he said, looking around at the young children. They all looked somewhat confused by the question before agreeing in unison; Baiken groaned. “Fine, fine, I’m coming.” she growled. Slowly she uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. Brushing off her kimono, she sauntered towards the front of the class, past her younger classmates; diaper crinkling noisily with every step. “Well?” she asked, standing indignantly in front of him with her hand on her hip. There was a moment of silence. “The paddle of classroom justice!” he loudly announced. Taking his full nine foot height he utterly towered over the smaller woman. The color drained from her face as she craned her neck back to see him. Walking hunched over as he did, it was easy to forget just how tall Faust was. From behind his desk he’d retrieved a large wooden paddle; it must have been every bit of five feet long! It was as big as she was! The class oooohed all together as they watched. She could already feel a gush of pee warming the diaper between her legs at the sight. “W...wait no… that’s…” she tried to protest. Faust sat on the edge of his desk, and before she knew what was happening the lanky man had pulled her over his knees. Tugging up the bottom of her kimono he exposed the puffy diaper. “Oh dear, if you needed a change you should have said so.” he lectured her, spotting the damp discoloration. “I didn’t I… ooh…” she grit her teeth, finally managing to clench her muscles and stem the flow. “Let me up, you pervert!” she barked at him! Faust ignored her demands and addressed the class. “Ms. Baiken is going to be disciplined. This is what happens when you disrupt class and misbehave!” he said, bringing the large paddle down on the woman’s bottom. Even through the thick padding it hurt. Baiken yelped in pain as she was forced forward from the impact. Any semblance of control she’d managed to regain over her bladder instantly disappeared upon impact. A noisy deluge of piss rushed into her diaper. The audible hiss earned giggles from the spectators. “Ahhhhh!” Faust exclaimed, seeing the protective garment begin to droop and swell. “Using your diaper won’t save you from your punishment!” he announced, bringing the paddle crashing down once more. Due to her forceful peeing saturating the diaper, the impact was more of a wet thump the second time around. She blushed with humiliation as every eye was glued to her plight. “I…” the paddle came down with a loud WUMP, interrupting whatever she was about to say. “Faust, please!” she managed to interject before it came down again. “In my classroom my discipline is law!” he exclaimed without stopping, bringing another hard swat down on her backside. With each strike she could feel her bowels loosening, her anus quivering. She grimaced, enduring another blow to her behind. “S..stop.” she futilely begged. He raised the paddle once more. Her body convulsed, her stomach tensed, and in anticipation of the blow her bowels uncontrollably evacuated. It was noisy, sticky, wet. Time seemed to slow down as she felt each gram of waste crackle and ooze into her diaper. The stream of urine had started to taper off; a single rivulet of urine running down her muscular thigh. “Nnng I… I’m… s...stop!” she whined as she pushed more filthy mush into her padded underwear. There were gasps of shock, giggles, and full blown laughter from the children watching her. “She’s pooping her diaper!” one announced gleefully, delighting in the woman’s misery. Another giggled madly “she’s fudging her huggies!” he snickered. “Ewww, that’s so gross!” a young girl said, pinching her nose in an exaggerated fashion. The seat of her diaper swelled; already the prints had disappeared when she’d wet. Now the white shell of the garment was slowly starting to turn a mottled brown. “Oh dear… oh dear!” Faust exclaimed, not having expected this to happen. “She’s a poopy girl!” another voice gleefully announced. Faust finally intervened. “Please class, don’t tease Ms. Baiken for having an accident. It is, after all, why she is here. I suppose this is lesson enough…” he admitted before snapping his fingers with inspiration. Baiken meanwhile grunted one last time, pushing the last of her poop into her diaper, brown muck starting to seep out around the leg holes. Faust returned Baiken to her feet. She nearly lost her balance, but was glad she did not. He slammed his hand down on the desk and with one swift movement cleared it. Pencils, papers, even the ancient typewriter he had for some unknown reason clattered to the ground. Once cleared he brought his fist down smacking the desktop and the whole surface rotated. What was once a standard desk now looked like a changing table one might find in any public bathroom. “Please, Ms. Baiken. Go ahead and lay down. In place of the rest of her spanking she was to be a demonstration to the class! Her head swam, slowly she did as she was told lest she provoke the lunatic further. “Please, one of you fetch Ms. Baiken a diaper.” he asked the class. One of the other children hopped to her feet and scrambled to get the sorely needed garment. Under the desk resided the rest of the supplies he would need. Climbing onto the changing table, Baiken could feel her kimono being lifted up. “Before you lay on your back.” Faust chimed in again. The doctor pointed to the leaking leg guard’s smeared with brown. “You see, class, this is why you should always change as soon as possible. You can see Ms. Baiken is already about to leak! It’s fortunate we were here already.” he explained, keeping her sagging diaper on display for a moment. Baiken shut her eye, absolutely mortified, wishing to be anywhere but her current predicament. “You may lay down.” he said gently, allowing her to twist around and lay on her back. She stared down woefully as he spread her thighs. The entire front of her diaper was sodden, ; she could feel the heavy warmth blanketing her hips. He inspected her for a moment “Oh dear… we might need to get you something thicker; you’re a very heavy wetter for your size.” he said, clicking his tongue with concern. “Oh no no… the colossus is the thickest model!” he exclaimed with an air of hopelessness to his voice. “Oh, I’m rambling again. Anyway!” he turned his attention back to the blushing diapered woman waiting for her change. “Class, you’ll see changing Ms. Baiken’s diaper is just like changing any other.” he explained as he began un-taping the thoroughly soiled garment. Baiken wrinkled her nose at the sudden foul smell emanating from her poopy diaper. There was a quiet murmur about how stinky she was from the class. “Yes, due to her poor diet and previous dependence on alcohol, Ms. Baiken is a stinky girl.” he said absentmindedly as he continued to scrub the excrement from her skin. “Shut up!” she hissed at him. He paid little attention to her outburst and continued the task at hand. Much to Baiken’s chagrin, narration of each step was included. It was among the most humiliating fifteen minutes of the pink-haired woman’s life. Finally it was over, and the class was dismissed. She was the first to leave, running as fast as she could back to her room. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Baiken broke out her hidden stash of rice wine that Faust had yet to find and drowned her misery in it; eventually she wandered out and into town. Hours passed and with a sodden diaper drooping wetly between her legs she returned. Faust was in his lab doing… Baiken wasn’t about to ask; but… there was another voice? “Oh, the little one’s returned~” a flirtatious voice called out as she came into the doorway. The voice caused the hair on the back of Baiken’s neck to stand on end. Her eye widened, a gush of urine running down her leg. “YOU!” she growled, lunging forward with malicious intent in her eyes. I-no let out a faux scream holding her hand to her head. “Oh Faust, this crass woman is going to attack me. I’m so scared~” she announced melodramatically. Faust stepped forward, blocking Baiken’s path to the dark haired woman. I-no was in her own little world, snickering at the display. Faust was scolding Baiken; the small, pink-haired woman flailing her arms in an attempt to shove past the monster of a man. I-no crouched down, spreading her knees. Her skirt rode up exposing a thick diaper adorned with cartoonish musical notes. “I’m so frightened I pooped my diaper~” she said with a breathy moan, rubbing the front of her diaper with one hand as a wet stain started to form. Grunting, the seat of the childish garment began to tent and expand as she strained to empty herself. “Ms. I-no is here under a very strange circumstance, but I expect you to behave yourself around her!” Faust said, looming over the irate woman. “She’s a madwoman, keep her away from me doctor~” I-no’s coy voice rang out as she grunted again and finished messing her diaper. A wet discoloration blossomed under her hand that’d been mischievously rubbing the front of her diaper as she let out a subdued moan. Baiken finally saw what the short haired woman was doing and recoiled in horror. “Degenerate, pervert!” she snapped, taking a step back and glowering at I-no. Faust whirled around “No! Ahhhh, Ms. I-no, that’s exactly what you’re not supposed to be doing!” he exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. “Stop that this instant!” he demanded. I-no pouted playfully and stood, tugging her skirt back down over her diaper. At least Baiken’s kimono hid it well… the dirty brown bulge hung quite obviously beneath the hem of I-no’s red skirt. She winked at Baiken. “I suppose you’ll be changing me now?” she said to Faust. “Of course! I can’t allow you to stay in a soiled diaper. You’re supposed to be using the toilet!” he said, sounding exasperated with the woman. “Come along both of you!” he grabbed both of them by the wrist dragging them to the changing area. “Now, since you’re incapable of changing yourself. You might have better luck changing someone else.” Faust explained. Baiken scoffed angrily. “I’m not changing that pervert’s diaper.” she protested. “How else will you learn to change your own!” he countered, thrusting them both into the changing room, locking the door behind them. “Neither of you are allowed out until you’re both in clean diapers!” he announced, pressing his face up against the frosted window. “And no funny business!” I-no traipsed in, Baiken stumbled; catching her balance. Taking a moment I-no paused, reaching behind her and squishing her poopy diaper against her bottom with a guttural moan. The pink haired woman gagged, recoiling in horror… how could she do that… “Faust, let me out!” she growled, turning around knocking on the window where his face was. He didn’t flinch, answering with a resounding “NO” “But I bet you’ve never even tried squishing it~” I-no’s sultry voice teased her. She felt sick at the thought; deriving enjoyment from such things? She shook her head, turning around to face her new “classmate”. I-no was face to face with her, a hand reaching underneath Baiken’s Kimono and pressing the front of her saturated diaper. The soggy padding squished softly against her skin. She breathed in sharply, grabbing I-no’s wrist and yanking it away. It hadn’t been the worst sensation, but the proud woman would rather fall on her sword than admit anything to I-no. “Oh, you enjoyed that~” she teased, rubbing her wrist when Baiken let her go. Baiken glared at her. “Touch me again and even without my sword I will end you.” she threatened. “So fearsome, can’t even keep her pants dry~” I-no mocked. “At least I choose to do it~” she continued. “For some disgusting reason…” Baiken countered sharply, tromping over to the changing table. This was a sick joke, bringing I-no here. “Change mine and I’ll change yours.” Baiken growled at her, pointing at the table. “Oh, you’re no fun~” I-no huffed. She stroked her chin “Fine, but you first~” she said. Baiken crawled onto the changing table, spreading her legs for I-no to change her. “Oh dear, you really soaked that one.” I-no commented. “You’re even leaking~” she noted, running her finger along Baiken’s wet, muscular thigh. Baiken shuddered at her touch “No funny business.” she repeated, continuing to glare at her. Fortunately, her diaper was only wet. I-no approached her slowly, looking down at her like a predator stalking her prey. The look on her face made the samurai apprehensive about what was to come. Why couldn’t Faust just change them both! “Oh, but funny business is the best business~” I-no teased her, continuing to trace her finger along the woman’s thigh. Baiken twitched, her expression staying hard as stone. “Feh, fine.” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll change your diaper, pouty pants.” she continued to tease with a huff. Clearly, that was not the reaction I-no had hoped for. “You’re no fun; you really should lighten up.” she said, ripping open the soggy diaper. Baiken continued to glare at her, remaining silent as the all too familiar smell of urine tickled her nose again. “Oh dear, you really soaked your diaper.” I-no commented, tugging the diaper out from under her and rolling the used diaper up. She paused, holding the used diaper in her hands. “Mmm, it’s still warm~” she teased, kneading her fingers into the plastic shell. Baiken’s expression shifted to one of revulsion. “You pervert! Put that down!” she growled. I-no laughed, “I knew I could change your mood.” she continued, letting the diaper fall from her hand with a wet splat. “Disgust is hardly an improvement!” the pink haired woman argued. I-no just smirked as she plucked a wipe out of the box. Unlike Faust, whose clinical approach was quick and efficient, the raven-haired she-devil took her time. Even her touch was more delicate. It was surprisingly pleasant. The relentless samurai’s expression melted. She bit her lip restlessly, shifting away from her touch. I-no said nothing, simply tending to her duties, not letting Baiken shift away from her so easily. “Stop squirming.” I-no scolded her. The changing continued; I-no brought the wipe ever so teasingly across Baiken’s slit. Her eye widened, her heart rate quickened; “S...stop that!” she snapped at I-no. “Just being thorough~” she said, dismissing her warning. Baiken took a deep breath as she continued. I-no tossed the wipe away, grabbing a fresh one. Resuming her mischievous ministrations the cleanup resumed as normal, working her way down to the woman’s bottom. When her guard was down once again, she felt I-no’s slender digit pushing ever so gently into her tight hole. She curled her toes, arching her back. I-no giggled quietly, pushing her finger in and out ever so slightly. “I’m surprised a repressed, angry sow like you enjoys this~” she teased, pressing her finger even deeper. Baiken let out an accidental moan, quickly covering her mouth and wriggling forward. Panting for breath, she sat up, glowering at the woman. “I did NOT!” she spat! “No, of course not.” I-no giggled, unfolding a fresh diaper for her. “You’re all clean cutie~” I-no winked. “Just have to put this diaper on.” she said, unfolding the garment for her. “I’ll do it myself!” Baiken insisted, clearly having had enough. I-no shrugged, laying the diaper on the table for her. Contenting herself by rubbing the front of her diaper, she bucked her hips against her hand, letting out a sultry moan. Baiken growled angrily as she maneuvered herself on top of the garment. From outside, face still pressed against the window, Faust banged on the glass. “Nooooo, no funny business!” he scolded I-no. She turned and pouted at the window whilst Baiken struggled with the diaper. “Damned thing.” she cursed under her breath. She’d managed to get the front tugged up but with only one arm she could hardly keep it tugged tightly against her skin to fasten the tapes. The end result was a poorly fitted diaper. I-no examined her handywork, clucking her tongue. Baiken felt so small, unable to even put on a diaper herself. She sniffled, eyes watering in shame. “J...just fix it.” she growled, turning her head away. “Of course dear~” I-no said airily, taking a few moments to readjust the tapes. “All done~” she commented, patting the front of her diaper with a faint crinkle. “My turnnnn~” she announced. Hopping onto the table with a noisy squelch, she gasped with pleasure as she wiggled her hips around. Baiken stared at her dumbfounded by the act. Each time she’d climbed onto the changing table it had been with all the grace and caution she could muster to avoid doing what I-no had just done. “I have to clean that up!” she growled at her. “I know, I’m soooo naughty. You should give me a spanking~” she toyed with her. Baiken trembled with anger, barely able to restrain herself. “Pervert.” she spat, ripping the diaper off, staring at what she had to clean up. Was this what Faust had to deal with every time she… Baiken couldn’t bring herself to think of it; cheeks blushing a fiery red. “Just sit still.” she growled, retrieving a handful of the cleansing wipes. Mercifully, it seemed I-no was finally calmed down. She let Baiken tend to her filth covered hips with little interruption. Her head lolled to the side and she looked like she was in another world, overcome with euphoria. One hand made the task even more arduous. Fortunately, I-no did as she asked, turning this way and that when requested. “An excellent display of teamwork!” Faust exclaimed, poking his head in through the door. “I’m leaving.” Baiken growled, storming past the insane man, leaving I-no and the doctor in her wake. Faust watched her as she stomped towards her room. “She changed her own diaper!” he exclaimed proudly. “Poorly~” I-no interjected. “It was her first!” he continued, refusing to be discouraged. Arriving in her room she slammed the door shut. The resounding crack causing her to jump at the unexpected volume, losing a spurt of liquid into her diaper. Baiken tossed herself into her bed, burying her face in her pillow and slamming her fist into the mattress. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair! She smashed her fist down again letting out her rage. Punching the plush mattress didn’t help. She lay there wallowing in self-pity for a while. Frustrated with Dr. Faust’s ridiculous method, angry with I-no for her unsightly advances, and most of all, frustrated with herself for continuing to have accidents. Towards the end of the evening there was a knock on the door. “Go away.” she growled. Faust ignored her and poked his bag-covered head in anyway. “Just checking to see if you need a change before bed.” he asked. She sat up on her bed and glared at him. “No.” she spat. Subtly working her hand between her thighs, her diaper told another story: soaked. “...yes” she said, the venom in her voice ebbing. “As long as it’s you and not that devil pervert.” she growled, tugging her kimono to the sides exposing the sodden diaper around her hips. He nodded, quickly changing the woman. There was a flurry of movement. She could hardly even follow his motions. The old diaper removed, she was quickly wiped down and before she could blink a fresh diaper was taped snugly around her hips. “There, all ready for bed.” Faust announced. Baiken exhaled, blowing stray pink hair from her face. “I’m not a child. I’m probably older than you.” she grumbled, turning over and flopping back down on her bed. “Of course, of course.” he responded, quickly departing. Her nightmares returned that evening. Gears haunted her sleep, That Man just two steps ahead of her blade, and his toy… I-no. Jets of hot urine continuously poured into her padding as she twitched and cowered in her dreams. Her final dream had her nearly defeated, cowering at I-no’s feet; deafened by the roaring crescendo of her guitar. With her sword shattered to pieces, she scrambled back from the woman. I-no sauntered towards her, swaying her hips seductively. “Is the little girl scared, going to potty in her pants~” she teased as she continued to step closer and closer. Baiken swallowed; as she clambered away from the woman she was leaving a trail of urine through her wraps. A wall appeared behind her impeding her escape. The stream of piss intensified, a golden arc spraying through her wrappings. The wet fabric clung to her vulva as the monster drew ever closer. The red leather clad woman loomed above her, eyes glowing menacingly. “I’m not going to kill you yet~” she whispered seductively. “We have plenty of time to play first~” she cooed. She quivered, feeling her anus go lax just as her bladder had. The sound of a moist, sticky bowel movement filled the air as her wraps filled with shit. Ropes lashed around her ankles and wrists, pulling her to a standing position. I-no yanked her kimono away with ease, tossing it over her shoulder. Baiken stood restrained in front of the dark haired woman still pooping her panties. “Oh, you did, you really did go potty in your pants~” I-no teased, thrusting her hand between the pink-haired woman’s legs and feeling the warm liquid running over her fingers. Baiken couldn’t stop herself; I-no’s touch was electric. She let out a guttural moan. “Oh… oh gods… don’t.. Don’t touch me like that.” Baiken protested, bucking her hips against I-no’s hand even as she objected. I-no giggled, pressing her fingers against the sopping wet fabric. Digging her fingertips against the woman’s cunt, I-no continued her assault. One hand groped her large breast, now hanging freely. “You’re such a little potty pants.” she teased, leaning forward and nibbling on her ear. “And you’re always going to be a little potty pants~” she continued, licking her ear as she worked her fingers through the fabric of her wraps and finding her target. Baiken moaned even louder. “I’m not… I’m not…” she whined, panting as I-no thrust her fingers deep inside her. Anything else she was going to say was lost in a surge of pleasure. She slumped against the restraints, quivering as I-no played with her chest and fingered her. “Tell me how good it feels, how you just love being a little potty pants~” I-no teased, digging her nails into the woman’s breast. Baiken shook her head, a tendril of drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. “You’ll admit it soon enough~” I-no whispered ominously. Her hand left the woman’s more than generous chest, finding a new target. Baiken shuddered, arching her back. It felt like she’d just sat in warm, thick, mud. The paste squished up her bottom, filling the space between her cheeks as I-no pressed her palm against her, flattening the bulge. “Just tell me you love it, and I’ll take you to heaven.” I-no whispered, groping the woman’s soiled bottom and squelching the barely contained mess within. “N...no I… oh… nnnng” she moaned again, pressing her forehead against I-no’s shoulder. “Oh fuck…. Fuck…” she growled, her hips rocking with every thrust of I-no’s hand. “That’s right, you’re my little potty pants, you’re my little potty pants~” Baiken snapped awake with a start, a cold sweat matting the hair to her forehead. “You’re my little potty pants~” she heard. Ice water flooded her veins. I-no, the viper, was coiled around her. Her hand was as it had been in the dream, kneading her large chest. Digging her fingers into her fleshy breasts, the sensation hurt, but it felt so good. I-no’s other hand was buried down the front of her pissy diaper, fingers thrusting deep inside her. All of a sudden it hit her; an overwhelming, mind shattering climax. She slumped over in the bed, arching her back as she writhed around. How long had it been since the last time… she couldn’t even remember. She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, to say anything, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of grunts, moans, and gasps. She could feel everything; the sodden padding of her night time diaper, the mushed load in the seat, the wet sheets she’d leaked into. All of it coming together as part of her first sexual release in quite a while. I-no purred in her ear, “Such a good girl~” Baiken lay helpless on the bed, her chest heaving with each passionate breath. I-no withdrew her hand from the woman’s diaper with a crude, wet noise. “I’ll tell Faust he has a very messy girl who needs changing~” she cooed, sauntering away from the woman before she could recover. Shutting the door behind her, she disappeared back into the night, leaving Baiken to wonder if she was still dreaming. An aftershock of pleasure rippled through her body, coaxing another moan from her lips. She couldn’t resist pressing her hand against the front of her diaper, moaning at the hot sensation provided by the urine soaked padding. “Oh… oh fuck…” she moaned under her breath before letting her hand fall away, revolted with herself. With I-no dealt with she lay there, frozen in the afterglow of the experience. What had just transpired…. That pervert! Baiken couldn’t believe that she’d actually cum. She gnashed her teeth with irritation; tomorrow she was going to make her pay. “Pervert, demon!” she shouted, sitting up with a wet squelch and feeling the mush squish against her. It oozed noticeably from the cuffs of the diaper. She pouted angrily until Faust showed up as I-no promised with a fresh diaper and a change of sheets. After that eventful rousing she managed to eke out a few more hours of sleep. Once again she woke to a sodden diaper and, fortunately, no I-no in sight. Staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t even be sure it had happened. Maybe it had all been a disgusting, perverse dream… but it felt real. She shut her eyes and let herself fall back into the mattress. Baiken knew it wasn’t a dream, but she hoped it had been. At least this diaper hadn’t leaked; small victory… Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed she slowly pulled herself up. It was an almost pleasant sensation; the sodden diaper hanging between her hips, squishing warmly against her thighs. Leaving her room, kimono loosely hanging around her shoulders, she wandered off to find Faust for a diaper change. She must have wet recently. Taking a moment to press her fingers into the gel-like material between her legs she gauged the wetness… soaked. Of course she was soaked. Baiken cursed under her breath; why was she even bothering… A faint grumble from her stomach brought a grimace to her face. She needed to relieve herself like normal. Why bother holding it… she huffed and squatted in the middle of the hallway. Spreading her thighs wide she gave a quiet grunt, and with the faintest of effort a heavy, mushy weight filled the back of her diaper. The physical relief was fantastic, but moments after doing her dirty deed the proud woman was filled with shame. What was she thinking!? What kind of samurai willingly just messed herself like that? She slowly stood, chastising herself as she pressed her hand against the sagging bulge in the seat of her already soaked diaper. “uhg...” she moaned, a disgusted tone in her voice. She began the loaded walk of shame to go find Dr. Faust; hopefully I-no could be avoided. If she found her wandering the halls in a full diaper who knows what lewd things she might try. Fortunately, I-no was nowhere to be found. “Hopefully she died in her sleep.” Baiken said with a sneer. Walking into the changing room gave Baiken her answer. On the table lay I-no, a visibly soiled diaper taped around her hips. Faust looked up from his work, about to tear the tapes open. “Welcome, Ms. Baiken. I-no, you can change your own diaper. I’m going to assist Baiken with her diaper.” he said moving over to the second changing table, patting the top. I-no narrowed her eyes and huffed, clearly desiring the attention. “That’s not fair, I was here first!” she pouted playfully. “She has a genuine need of my services!” he countered sharply. Baiken could only think of the intentional mess she made as she waddled over to the changing table. “Alright, just get me cleaned up.” she growled, carefully lowering herself onto the table. “A “please” would be appreciated for all my hard work!” he said with faux indignation as he set to work. Once again, he did the task she had grown all too accustomed to. Baiken pouted on the table, folding her arm over her chest proudly while Faust toiled over the dirty work. “Oh goodness, look at how messy you are, Baiken~” I-no cooed, having rolled onto her side so she could watch the proceedings unfold. “I’m jealous, I want to change her again!” she huffed. Faust bent over backwards, staring at the woman. “Ms. Baiken has clearly expressed her distaste for that, and I can’t say that I blame her!” he said, rejecting her request. Baiken breathed a sigh of relief when Faust denied I-no another chance to be lewd with her… Wipe by wipe she slowly felt her backside become clean. One advantage to having squatted and deliberately soiled herself was that it hadn’t squished all over her skin. With minimal fuss, a fresh diaper was placed under her muscular hips, and a rain of powder signified the end of her change before he taped the diaper shut. “All done, but if you wouldn’t mind, please wait until I-no is finished with her change.” he asked politely. Baiken frowned; she wanted nothing to do with that witch! “Must I?” she growled. “You must!” Faust responded enthusiastically. I-no had hopped up from the table, apparently having changed herself already. “Oh, I’m done~” she said, with a wink directed towards Baiken. “It’s a shame I didn’t have your strong hands helping me, Baiken~” she flirted. Dr. Faust rubbed the bag covering his head in frustration. “What on earth am I going to do with you two...” he said with a sigh. “Don’t lump me in with her!” Baiken protested. I-no giggled like a schoolgirl. “I don’t know, you make plenty of lumps yourself~” she teased. Baiken’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. “Shut up!” she hissed angrily. “Calm yourselves! I won’t tolerate fighting!” he cried, standing between them. “I have a task for you both before class today.” Baiken blinked. “I’m listening….” she said cautiously. “Yes, a wonderful task!” Faust concluded with more excitement than necessary. “One of great importance as well.” he added. Baiken was skeptical, while I-no simply looked amused. “I don’t know how you expect me to accomplish anything with this pervert hounding me.” Baiken growled, shooting a glare at I-no. “Consider it a test! Yes, a test…of teamwork!” he improvised. “I’ve been running low on medical supplies. One of my distributors had their last shipment intercepted. Critical that I have it! It was another order of your protective garments.” Baiken twitched in irritation while I-no’s eyes shone with glee. My contact said the bandits were…Oh, where were they?” he asked, scratching his head. Opening his jacket he pulled out a map, slamming it down on the table. “Ahh, yes.” he paused, pointing his finger to a small set of caves. “Here. Not too far, only a couple miles from town.” Surely the monster of a man could handle it himself, but Baiken licked her lips. Finally, the chance for violence, enough to sate her desire to unleash her frustration. No more splitting logs in the courtyard. “Oh, and before I forget, here’s your sword.” he said, rummaging around in his coat before retrieving the finely crafted blade. “and here’s your guitar.” he said, repeating the process, this time retrieving I-no’s deadly teal guitar, handing each of them their respective weapons. “Probably best that you’re out today; I have a new client.” he said dismissively. I-no’s eyes glittered for a moment, Baiken just shrugged. “and before I forget a second time….” he chuckled as he handed Baiken her satchel. “I packed you both a diaper bag with plenty of spares.” “Ohhh, how thoughtful~” I-no said graciously, Baiken simply scoffed. “Have some food, and off you go.” he said, gesturing to the door, shooing them away. I-no ran her fingers up the fretboard briefly playing a fast scale. Baiken pulled the sword part way from its sheath, letting it slide back in when she was satisfied. No sooner had they left the room, Faust’s full nine-foot form loomed menacingly behind them. His paper bag looked even more ominous than usual. “and no fighting between you two. I’ll know.” he promised ominously. Both women felt a dribble of urine spurt into their padding. Baiken couldn’t be more eager to get out. I-no simply tagged along behind her, every so often making flirtatious advances which Baiken quickly shot down. The walk had taken its toll on Baiken’s diaper. After the hour and a half long trek she could start to feel a rash forming; the result of multiple accidents of varying severity. A gentle breeze had wafted through a nearby field of flowers, carrying with it a heavy dusting of pollen. The resulting sneezing fit had left the pink- haired woman gushing piss into her diaper with every convulsion. The very same breeze had knocked loose a boulder from a nearby cliffside, and the thunderous crash of falling rocks nearby had caused her to lose all bladder control, noisily flooding her diaper in front of I-no, who simply watched with a predatory smile. The sudden noises had also coaxed a small muddy lump into her diaper as well. Later, a deer had sprung into the path, once again startling the woman; the lump in her diaper swelled considerably after that. The final indignity occurred when, passing by a glassy pond, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection. Thinking it an ambush, she emptied the rest of her bowels in fright. “They’re just beyond that tree line.” I-no mused, peering out from behind a thick oak. “I think we should change before attacking.” I-no announced. Baiken frowned “I’m fine.” she lied. I-no folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “No you’re not, I can smell your dirty diaper from here~!” she teased. ”If it was anyone but you, I would.” she growled. I-no simply shrugged “we have a mission to complete.” she continued. “No funny business, I promise~” she said with a smirk. Baiken shifted from foot to foot, judging the state of her diaper.” “Fine”, she acquiesced. “I don’t hear anyone around, just… get it over with quickly.” Baiken growled, quickly lowering herself onto the ground. An errant branch caught the cuff of her kimono, pulling open the top as she lowered herself. With a surprised yelp she felt her buxom chest pop out of her clothing, giving I-no quite the sight. “Oh my, and I thought you didn’t want any funny business~” I-no teased as she rummaged in Baiken’s satchel, retrieving the supplies and a fresh diaper for the woman. As she lay there she could see under I-no’s short crimson skirt. The diaper she’d changed into was clearly wet, yellowed between her legs. “You’re wet too!” Baiken exclaimed. The black haired woman snickered. “I know that, I’ve been piddling into my diaper the whole way.” she said with a moan, “Keeping it nice and warm.” she continued before cleaning up after the incontinent woman. “Pervert.” Baiken accused. I-no simply smirked. “Better a pervert than a grown woman who can’t hold her water~” she countered. Baiken mumbled something unintelligible under her breath before going quiet. With her and I-no both changed they were ready. “Fortissimo~” I-no shouted as she practically flew into battle riding her teal guitar. Deafening music poured forth as she plunged forward without a second thought. Baiken sprinted after her, cursing under her breath. Leaping into battle, her sword leapt from its sheath, running a charging robber through with a spray of blood. Disorganized, unprepared, outmatched. They hardly stood a chance against the two women. I-no’s less than traditional method of combat and Baiken’s superior swordsmanship cut through the bandits in no time flat. A few close calls had left Baiken’s diaper moist between her legs. “What’s that ruckus all about!?” a large figure emerged from the cave, shouting in surprise. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” he roared, stomping towards I-no. Unlike his grunts it seemed he’d provide more of a challenge. “What do you think we’re doing!” Baiken shot back, equally bad tempered. He hefted a large axe in his hands and swung it square at I-no’s neck. She ducked, her tall hat narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half by the blow. Sliding forward, her hands glowed with the magic of sound as she moved to strike. Before she could counterattack the butt of the axe sent her flying back into a nearby tree. Rubbing her head she adjusted her hat, glowering at the man who was laughing at the sight of her skirt having ridden up. Her anger subsided into a moan of pleasure as she felt her padding growing sodden between her legs. A genuine moment of fright. She shuddered with enjoyment, pressing her hand against the yellowed garment and squishing it against her flesh. “Oooh~” she moaned, if only this were the time for such things. Baiken quickly closed the distance, hurling her chain hook at him. He caught the hook with the handle of his axe, catching her off guard with the maneuver. Baiken yelped in surprise as she stumbled forward. His fist caught her in the gut with a heavy whump. The painful immpact drove the breath from her lungs and left her diaper heavy around her hips. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was dimly aware of a poopy mess pressing against her cheeks and an uncontrollable stream of piss gushing into her diaper. He wrinkled his nose as the smell immediately assaulted his senses. “Uhg, disgusting little brat!” he spat as she hunched over in front of him clutching her stomach. She grunted in pain, trembling as she forced another squishy lump into her diaper. He swung his fist again, though this time she narrowly managed to avoid it. Stumbling backwards, her kimono caught on a branch, sending her falling onto her bottom with a loud squelch. Baiken retched in disgust, feeling the warm mush rising up her bottom and threatening to spill out over the top of the waistband. Perhaps even worse was the guffawing from the bandit leader as he got a good look at the thick, well used diaper around her hips. “You, wearing diapers?” he laughed again, spitting on the ground. “Those supplies must have been for a pissy little girl like you then.” he growled, advancing on her. Her cheeks were crimson with embarrassment. A crescendo of noise exploded as I-no reappeared behind him, cracking the man over the back of the head. He staggered forward, dazed from the strike, and Baiken was on her feet in a flash. The tip of her blade erupted from his back with a spray of blood. He twitched for a moment as the life disappeared from his eyes before collapsing to the ground. Baiken whipped the blood from her blade placing it back in her sheath glaring at I-no. Grabbing the woman by the neck, she shoved her back against a tree. The distracted glow she’d been encompassed by whilst enjoying the feelings of her soggy diaper disappeared as the pink haired woman assailed her. She squirmed, choking for breath as Baiken’s fingers dug deeper into the flesh of her neck. “I should kill you for what you did to me.” she spat, squeezing a little harder. I-no flailed frantically. She wheezed, desperately trying to inhale. There was a familiar noise, Baiken could hear it. A wet crackling, popping, squishing noise. The raven-haired woman was soiling herself. This was a genuine accident in her diaper; there wasn’t any acting here. Baiken smirked, satisfied with herself. Relinquishing her grip she let I-no fall to her knees as she inhaled deeply. The glimpse of terror on her face had been a satisfying revenge. “Come on, let’s get the supplies and go.” she growled, marching towards the cave. From behind her she could hear I-no moaning loudly, the crinkling of a wet diaper being rubbed audible. “Ooooh, such a dirty girl. You made me poop my diaper~” she cried lustfully. Baiken twitched with irritation at her enjoyment of the situation. “Just get over here!” she snapped. I-no giggled seductively as she moved to assist the pink-haired woman, unable to resist making comments about the state of their dirty diapers. It was a long trek back, and with all the supplies it was slow going. Baiken refused to let I-no change her diaper, and I-no didn’t *want* to change out of her diaper, which made things even slower. By the time the pair had returned to Faust’s compound they’d completely missed class, which earned them a reprimand. Still, Faust was grateful that they had retrieved the supplies, late as they were. The reward was a long overdue change for them both. I-no considered it more of a punishment however. Baiken’s thighs were smeared brown, and having wet at least twice more on the walk home the sodden garment was far past its capacity. A warm bath was waiting in her future! Baiken excused herself, walking quickly to the bathroom where she could run herself a steaming hot bath. It felt good not to be confined in a diaper for the first time in a few days. Tossing her kimono aside, she slowly lowered herself into the water with a moan of relief. All her troubles seemed to melt away in the scalding water. She shut her eye, the steam making her sleepy. Sleep came unintentionally as she lounged in the tub. The sound of the door opening roused her with a start. The water between her legs yellowed for a moment as she looked up in surprise. A woman with lengthy blond hair stepped into the room, freezing when she saw Baiken in the tub. She stared for a moment, a nearly imperceptible blush coloring her cheeks. “…Sorry.” she murmured before Baiken growled at her. “Out… now.” she snapped. From her low position in the tub she could see up the intruders skirt. The leggings hid little. She too was wearing... something. The gusset appeared slightly swollen. It wasn't one of the comically large diapers Baiken was made to wear, but it wasn't panties. She left as suddenly as she appeared, and once more Baiken was left to her thoughts. Some hours later, Baiken finally returned to her room. A fresh diaper waited for her on her bed. She sneered at it. What a mockery, she’d dealt with that bandit just fine. Things would have gone even better if I-no hadn’t charged in without a thought! She grabbed it and hurled the garment across the room with a huff. Unfolding midair, it hit the wall with a gentle crinkle; not at all satisfying. Reminiscing on the past couple of days she found herself growing angrier and angrier. “What a joke!” she growled, knowing what she had to do. I-no had clearly snapped, and would be no help in finding That Man. This was all just a superfluous distraction; she would deal with her problems her way! Using her sword, she cut a long strip of cloth from the bed sheets, wrapping it tightly around her hips. “Much better.” she said proudly as she gathered her belongings. Escape was a simple matter. Out the window, slide down the roofing tiles and… she paused on the edge of the roof. Her ears twitched. Faint moans echoed through the thin walls. It must have been coming from I-no’s room… that perverted witch. She bit her lip, reminded of the feeling of I-no’s hand plunged down the front of her diaper. It made her knees go weak for a moment. No… she wasn’t a perverted wretch like her! She jumped from the edge of the roof, landing softly. Gravity worked against her, causing a spurt to dampen her makeshift undergarments. Setting out into the night, she vowed that she would improve without Faust’s help, even as a glittering rivulet ran down her thigh. She’d show him and that witch and whoever that blonde woman was!
  7. Part One: Infiltration (Corrin is named Robin, and is the same Robin I use in Awakening. Headcanon is it’s the same avatar for every FE game and also fuck if I’m running Corrin even remotely like he’s portrayed in game. Even Alm and Roy were better lords.) Kagero moved through the streets of the village, silent and inconspicuous. She wore the same garb as the other ninjas of the village, her scarf covering most of her face. The only thing that stood out about her was her chest, which was hard to hide even in tight ninja garments. The ninja was on a mission for her liege, Lord Ryoma, the now king of Hoshido. The Samurai had just found his lost brother, the middle prince of Hoshido Robin. But just as everything in the family had been set right, dark power struck down Queen Mikoto. Ryoma had been forced to take up the mantle of king, just as Hoshidian and Nohr forces clashed in mass on the border. Both sides watched in horror as Robin stood between the arguing princes of both kingdoms, giving them an ultimatum: settle your differences or he was leaving. Kagero was fond of the returned prince, and for once felt a pang of sadness as both princes turned on Robin. Robin didn’t stay, cutting a swath through Hoshidan’s and Nohrian’s alike as he left the battlefield. Neither of the princes moved to stop him, too engrossed in their own combat. Once combat ended for the day, Kagero was summoned to her lord’s tent. She hoped she would be tasked with pursuing Robin, a thought that irked her. She should desire to be here beside her lord, not off on another mission. Instead, she was sent to scout the ninja village of Mokusho. While the small ninja country was technically neutral, several Hoshidan spies returning through the city had vanished. So now Kagero was here, trying to figure out what happened to them. Kagero had been on patrol for a while now, and was starting to feel her body complain about the lack of relief. As she turned to head towards the nearest restroom, however, she spotted a female ninja, dressed in the garb of a Mokushan ninja captain, leaping across the rooftops. She was surprisingly stealthy for it being only dusk, but no one else seemed to notice or care, and the captain seemed to be in a hurry. Kagero slipped behind the nearest building, gracefully scaling it and giving chase to the ninja captain, her needs forgotten. She followed the captain for a solid ten minutes before the other ninja came to a stop, hopping down off the side of a building into an enclosed alleyway. Some kind of secret meeting spot? Crouching on the rooftop, Kagero waited. She tried to steel herself against her needs, but she quickly became desperate to relieve herself. She could feel a fart pressing to escape, and if it didn’t she knew something a lot more solid would. But she had to stay hidden! Grimacing, the ninja slowly let the fart out, doing her best to do so as stealthily as possible. If was accompanied by a trickle of warm mush, and she shifted uncomfortably as she shit herself a bit. At least the ninja hadn’t noticed. Soon after, another ninja captain appeared, a male in similar concealing uniform. The female produced a piece of paper for him, and Kagero focused her attention, trying to read it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see from here. Drawing three shuriken in one hand and a dagger in the other, she leaped down from the roof. Three shuriken dug into the man’s neck, and she put the dagger to the female’s neck, covering her mouth with her other hand. The ninja captain cried out, her words muffled by Kagero’s hand, and a loud trickling could be heard, the ninja captain pissing herself as she watched her companion fall. Her bowels didn’t fair much better, responding to the cold steel against her neck with a forceful evacuation. Kagero could hear the wet sounds of the ninja violently filling her pants with liquid feces. Kagero looked around for the note, spotting it on the ground, but spotting something much worse. When she focused on the duo, she hadn’t noticed the ten ninjas accompanying the other captain. Quickly slitting the woman’s throat, she hopped backwards, drawing a second dagger. The ten enemies spread out, approaching carefully. The battle of ninjas was completely silent, then suddenly they struck, the clash of metal breaking the silence. A pair of shuriken lead, both nimbly dodged by Kagero before three of them engaged her, short swords flashing out. She skillfully parried one with a dagger, sidestepping the other two and bringing her dagger around, cutting a deep wound in the chest of the one she parried. He staggered back, and she drove forward, knocking him back further and finishing him with a dagger to the heart. She cursed as it got lodged in him, and she looked around as in horror as she attempted to wrench it free. The pause had given them time to surround her, and there were still nine of them, now able to surround her with her back no longer to the wall. She cursed her weakness as her full bladder convulsed in fear, and pee started to trickle down her legs, soaking her shorts and puddling on the ground beneath her. Slowly she lowered her other dagger, setting it on the ground and raising her hands in surrender. They advanced quickly, one producing a pair of manacles and roughly shoving her hands down in front of her, snapping the cuffs on. Unsure of what they were going to do, she wasn’t ready for one to drive his knee into her stomach. Crying out in pain, the sound was accompanied by a crackling sound as the blow to her stomach drove its contents into her pants, wave after wave of soft mess involuntarily releasing. She was hit again, and again, and soon she faded into unconsciousness, still shitting herself. There will likely be a few more parts of this, if I can get around to writing them. Comments and criticism are welcome, my writing needs work.
  8. (Well, this is just a random story I wrote. Been playing one of my OCs again and wanted to write something about them. Would do something a bit more plot and character related but…council. Art for reference: https://www.dropbox.com/s/10d4een7p5zzp35/The%20Red%20Knight.jpg?dl=0) The Red Knight(Whom I will often be calling Red for simplicity.) was nervous. This was her first attempt at leading herself. She and Robin were pupils to the master tactician Travis, part of his four person squad that served the Omega and his goals. Normally he lead lead the squad on missions, his powerful control of the battlefield keeping them all alive. But as one of his two tacticians in training, she had to learn to do it as well. At least she couldn’t do worse than Robin, she figured. The man had destroyed his foes, but his leadership left a bit to be desired. He almost seemed to delight in throwing his units in situations they barely escaped, leaving the unit with six heavily injured soldiers, two lightly injured, and only two healthy. Robin had done most of the work himself, his physical protection rather than guidance keeping the soldiers from outright dying. She promised herself she would do better. Today it was just her and the ten women that formed the mercenary group they were currently working with. Tyra, the elder blue dragon who opposed Tiamat for control of the chromatics, was off battling the mother of dragons. Her adopted daughter, Jill, originally Tiamat’s daughter and a massive red dragon who had taken the Red Knight’s master as her mate, was with her. She couldn’t help but feel jealous when she thought of the red. She had vied for her master’s attention before, but he did not seem interested in placing it on a student. Every time Jill kissed him, or greeted him with one of her powerful hugs, she burned with jealousy. All she got was friendly greetings and the usual advice. Pushing her absent companions out of her mind for now, she turned to face her squad. They were lined up, geared up and ready to go. Scanning down the line of mercenaries, Red nodded in approval. “Alright ladies, here’s the plan. Our job is to destroy the shadow sources so the Omega can hold the zone. We’ve done this before, should be a routine job. I’ll be leading this time. I may not do as well as Travis, but I’ll do a better job than Robin did.” At that several of the women grinned. “We’re ready when you are commander.” One of the mercs, Carissa, said. She was one of the more experienced woman, and wore heavy scale armor with a pair of battleaxes at her sides and long, light brown hair down to her shoulders. The Red Knight nodded and concentrated. Her mind washed over the team, and she could feel all of their emotions, all of their conditions. She was the battlefield. The team turned and vanished in one concerted teleport, appearing on a field of semisolid shadow. Three glowing nexus’s floated above the ground around the area, and a variety of shadow creatures already stalked the ground. “Go!” she shouted into everyone’s minds, and they were off. Red felt her chess pieces flood onto the battlefield, spectral images of herself in different uniforms standing guard over her teammates and flitting about the battlefield, shadows of glowing red energy. First, she took stock of all her troops. Carissa was at the vanguard, both axes drawn as she leaped upon a shadowy humanoid. Her axes tore into its essence with ease, the magical weapon tearing shadow like flesh. Right behind her was Diana, an exceptionally tall and supremely arrogant blonde. She wore heavy plate armor, but it barely seemed to slow her. “Try to keep up!” she shouted as she dodged past Carissa, bringing her greatsword to bear against the flank of a massive shadowy worm, a powerful blow driving into its flank. She could feel the warrior was…nervous!? and almost laughed aloud. Now that she was keeping everyone’s statuses, she could see Diana’s true colors. The warrior had already shit herself a bit as she waited for the battle to start, nervous about going into combat again after her serious injury under Robin. Stifling her laughter, she ignored the small lump in the blonde’s pants only she could sense and moved to the next merc. Alesha was next to engage. She held a broadsword tightly in both hands, studded leather armor showing off her curves while giving a bit of protection to complement her mobility, long red hair flaring out behind her as she moved. She danced between the legs of a Titanic shadow, blade cutting out again and again. Once again, the enchanted equipment had a noticeable effect, gashes tearing in the flesh of the shadows legs. It seems her attempts to hamstring it simply wounded it more, however. Anna spun forward after her, her glistening black crystal plate armor radiating fear, her brilliant red hair trialing out the bottom of her helm . It did little good against the shadows, however, and luckily didn’t affect her allies, so she simply resorted to bringing her massive hammer spinning around into the side of the nightmare worm’s maw, joining Diana in attempting to slay the beast. A trio of women were next. Cyan, Cyril, and Cyrene. They all had matching short black hair, and each wore matching chainmail armor, the links glistening mithral. The shortest of them wielded two daggers, one glistening with fire and the other with cold. The middle sister wielded two scimitars, both hissing with acid. The last had a pair of green, glowing arms sprouting from her side, the psionic limbs supporting a pair of dual wielded greatswords that crackled with lightning and thunder, respectively. They moved in unison, the Cyrene, who stood almost as tall as Diana, let the Cyril take her shoulders. Cyan leaped onto hers in turn, and together they launched the smallest sister into the air, sending her crashing into a massive flying shadow. Her daggers dug deep, and she pulled, the best careening towards the ground into the other two’s reach, and they fell upon it. Luna, an archer, stayed back beside the red knight, her white hair long down her back and her body protected by pure black leather armor, enchanted with stealth. It didn’t matter against the shadows, however, and she simply raised her bow and sent a shower of sparkling arrows flying towards another flying shadow, the trail a bright light in the darkness of the realm. A pair of blue haired mages brought up the rear. Both wore their dark blue hair long down their back, dressed in matching red robes and carrying matching black staves. Only their eye colors differentiated, Mina’s eyes a bright green while Mila’s were a light brown. They unleashed waves of magic over the mercenaries, hastening their movements before opening up with spells of light and fire, the shadowy enemies immune to the more effective methods of magical disablement, paralysis and mind control. She could also feel Mila was desperately full and almost groaned. The mage should have gone beforehand if she was so desperate. With everyone’s status accounted for, the whole train of thought taking only a moment, Red moved to engage. Energy flared to life around her, and her whole body glowed with red energy, her sword shifting from metal to pure energy in an instant. She advanced down the middle of the enemies, past her troops, and engaged another titanic shadow. Leaping into the air, powered by a flow of air, she struck its arm and cut clean through, severing the limb. She felt herself stabilize in the air, and rolled in midair, avoiding its other swinging arm. Pushing off of the air she lashed out with psionic power, a shadowy flyer coming at her falling to the ground in pain as she blasted it with a combination of psionic energy and magical fire. Feeling the rush of both magic and psionics flowing full force through her veins, she casually raised her sword and caught the nightmare’s returning arm on it, severing it off and leaving the creature armless. Spurring forward in a burst of psychic emery, she drove her blade through its face, the massive monster dissolving into shadowy essence. With her free hand she raised a shield of arcane energy, catching the powerful cone of icy death launched her way and absorbing it into more energy. Emboldened, she leaped for a worm, but it dived into the ground. Turning, she raised her sword high, and brought it down with a brilliant flash of power, red energy engulfing one of the shadowy nexus’s and obliterating it. Her attention was tugged away for a moment, however, and she realized the perils of maintaining a collective with a group of warrior women. Diana hacked away at the worm in front of her, Anna working on its opposite side and forcing it to keep turning in an attempt to catch ones of them. She was unprepared for the hand that reached down and grasped her. One of the giant shadows had flickered from its position across the shadowy field and appeared beside her. She felt her strength start to drain as its ghostly hand scooped her up in its giant grip, and she let out a scream of fear. Her body went limp and her bladder trembled uncontrollably, leak after leak of pee soaking into her undergarments. Dropping her greatsword, he quickly lost complete control, streams of urine soaking her legs and armor and falling from her, yellow streams cascading down from the giant’s grip. Red’s piece was there, however, and it phased through the giant’s hand, pulling her free and dropping her swiftly and safely to the ground. The giant tried to attack, but roared in pain as a prismatic beam slammed into its side, knocking it backward in a dazzle of rainbow energy. Her bowels were trembling but under control, though she barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief and get her fingers around the hilt of her fallen sword before she looked up and yet out another girly, fearful shriek. The maw of the giant worm she and Anna had been fighting was bearing down on her. It looked badly injured but it was still going to eat her. She let out a mewling whimper more appropriate to a scared little girl than to her massive frame and desperately threw her hands in the way as fear coursed through her. A lout pbblltt sounded as she violently shit herself, dark mush flooding into her underwear and then into her armor as her body forcefully expelled its waste. The smell and sound were both awful and unmistakable. Then end never came, however. Anna lunged forward, massive hammer cracking into the side of the worm’s head and sending it flying to the side, collapsing into a pile of shadowy essence and spiraling away. She turned to Diana, a slightly amused but sympathetic grin on her face, and held out a hand to help her up. Diana sniffled, wiping back the start of tears, and took her hand, letting Anna pull her to her feet. The black armored redhead patted the blonde’s back, and Diana composed herself to head back into the fray. The Red Knight could feel the fear flowing through Diana, the release of her control. It was all she could to do keep control herself, groaning as she doubled over and pushed a small lump of poo into her formerly pristine red panties. Steeling herself, she fought off the rest of the mental assault and lowered her connection to the others a bit. Preparing herself for further attacks, she stood up again, wincing as the lump of poo moved around in her panties. She turned towards the second nexus and sprinted for it, but a shadowy spider the size of an elder dragon rose up in her way, and she skidded to a halt. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a trickle of pee flow down her leg, this time not from someone else’s leak. Cursing under her breath, she watched as it raised its massive leg and took a swipe at her. She leaped forward, dodging the limbs blow and attaching herself to its side, running up the massive limb. When she neared the top, however, it brought another limb swinging up, and the spider’s blow hit her head on. The red energy around her flickered, her powerful barrier absorbing the blow. It faltered, but held fast, and the spider’s leg was deflected away with a screech of pain. The blow rocked her, however, and she could feel a distinct dampness in her panties telling her she had leaked more. Angrily raising her sword, she went straight for its head. Her pieces were still defending the squad, but her lapse in control spread like a wildfire. It was a result of the connection that they hadn’t expected, with both Travis and Robin being male and immune to the overactive bodily functions women suffered in battle. Mila suffered the effects of Red’s leak first, doubling over with a grunt as she pushed a log into her panties. Her desperation was too much to contain with the sudden urge to release. “Mila look out!” Mina shouted as a massive shadowy bird dived towards her sister. Mina tackled Mila to the ground, clearing her from the bird’s path, but its shadowy claws snatched her up. Her bladder was already eager for release and a golden cascade fell down on her sister as Mina was scooped up. Mila felt herself get thrown down and let out a pained sound, groaning as she pushed another log into her panties, involuntarily forcing more out with the impact. She was peeing now as well, desperate to get everything out. Her red robe was horribly stained, but she was shaken from her stupor when Mina’s pee soaked the upper portions of her dress. Concentrating, she forcibly pushed a third log into her panties, then looked up and cast a powerful spell, the shadowy bird turning to pure ice. Seeing that Mina was free, she bore down again, trying to finish wetting and messing her dress as quickly as possible. Everything pooled beneath her where she sat, and she realized this would be a bit too much of a mess for prestidigitation. Mina landed on her feet beside Mila with grace, her feather fall spell gently setting her on the ground. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at her sister’s accident. “I told you you should have gone beforehand.” She scolded. From across the battlefield she heard a massive roar, and turned bright red as she let out a fearful whimper and a blast of hot, liquid mess. The back of her dress darkened, and with the roar, Red’s influence, and the sound of her sister messing herself beside her, she couldn’t hold it back. Another wave of hot muck sprayed out, overwhelming her panties and dress completely and dripping down her legs. She held a horrified expression as a noisy fart escaped her, and then another, longer burst of diarrhea exploded down her legs, liquid poo puddling beneath her as she continued to helplessly shit herself. Luna ran, turning and firing a desperate arrow occasionally. With the others occupying the larger creatures, she found herself being swarmed by every single one of the tiny humanoids. Red’s chess pieces had intercepted many blows, but she had taken several, and she was getting tired. It seemed there was no end to these things. Suddenly, the swarm vanished. She paused, confused. Suddenly she heard a sound and turned. The whole swarm was behind her, using the same blinking some of the others had used. They were on her in an instant. She desperately removed her bowstring, slamming a few creatures back with her bow like a quarterstaff, but soon she was overwhelmed. She felt her essence start to drain into the shadow and panic completely overtook her body. She looked up into the eerily grinning face of a shadow and helplessly lost all control. Pee soaked her black leather armor, not very noticeable but leaving every inch of her bottom soaked. The back bulged out as a large lump of poo forced its way into her tight armor, then more and more forced its way out, spreading along the back of her tight armor like a pancake. Her bottom and legs were soon coated with pee and poo as she felt all light fading, the shadows taking her. Just as her consciousness faded, she saw a bright light pierce the shadows around her. Travis approached the fallen archer, smoking staff still in hand. There was no trace of the pure energy blast that had utterly annihilated the attacking shadows, but he still radiated an aura of power. Slinging the staff over his shoulder, he picked up the unconscious archer. “Just because I am not leading this fight does not mean I will allow anyone to be lost.” He said quietly, and vanished with a flicker of energy, taking the badly injured woman back to their base. The triplets were fighting the remaining big monsters, the other four split off to head for the last gate. The three of them worked in perfect concert, elemental weapons cutting down giants, birds, and worms alike. They seemed untouchable, any hit that broke through tier formation being absorbed by a one of Red’s pieces, their leader still watching out for them. They struck down the last monster with satisfaction, the three of them hugging one another as the last normal monster fades. Diana, Anna, Alesha, and Carissa joined together, cutting down one last worm from their path and heading for the last nexus. The last of the monsters fell behind them, and the Red Knight would end hers soon. As they neared, however, space rippled in front of them. A massive, six winged dragon, its head full of glowing red eyes and its mouth full of massive red fangs, tore its way into the demiplane. An aura of fear radiated off of it, and it let out a massive roar. Its arms moved in casting, and it lashed out at the triplets with a spell, then turned to face the terrified women before it. Diana had enough when the fear aura hit her. Pee she didn’t even know she still had sprayed down her legs at the sight of the dragon, and a fresh burst of waste pushed its way into her armor, spreading the mess even further down her legs and ass. Her legs trembled and she teared up, and when the dragon roared she fainted dead away, bladder, bowels, and bravery exhausted. Carissa faired a bit better, letting out a quiet whimper of fear and clamping down on her muscles as hard as she could, preventing a solid release. Her bladder, on the other hand, couldn’t be stopped, and her tight armored pants echoed with a hiss as she forcefully and fearfully emptied her bladder into them. She stood frozen with fear as she peed herself like a frightened child, whimpering. As the stream died down, the veteran fighter collected herself and advanced towards the massive dragon. Alesha clamped down on her bladder, forgetting about her bowels, the opposite of Carissa. She let out a pained, involuntary groan as the first soft mass pushed its way into her panties, quickly followed by a wave of brown sludge, then another mass and another. She trembled as Carissa did, shitting herself in terror. She was at least spared the childish whimpering thanks to her pained groans. When the dragon roared, her hold on her bladder faltered, and piss sprayed down her legs, studded leather darkening. She looked up, meeting the dragons eyes, and fell to her knees, helpless in the face of its fearsome gaze. Her bladder was going full force now, along with her bowels, and the stench was terrible as she emptied herself into her armor, entirely humiliated and helpless, unable to continue the fight. Anna fared better than her comrades, at least. Her armor reduced the impact of fear on her along with its other effects, and she leaked for a moment, the front of her panties dampening and the back of them browning slightly, but she held it together. Hammer in hand, she shook her head to clear it, then followed Carissa towards the dragon, hoping her other two companions would be okay. It swooped down to meet them, its shadowy form dwarfing them a hundredfold. It released a massive cone of blue fire, but a pair of Red’s pieces stepped in the way, the ones dressed as bishops, and they dispersed the fire to either side, leaving the pair unharmed. Anna could swear she heard a “Tsk” from the dragon. It descended, and its claws reached out, grabbing at the pair. Carissa activated her ring, and teleported out of the way. Anna tried to dodge, but there was no way she could. The claw was just too big. The dragon scooped her up, and seeing Carissa reappear, sent his massive tail spiraling towards her. She looked up too late, and it hit her full on in the stomach, and the rest of her really. The loudest fart yet was heard from the veteran merc as her mess was quite violently forced out of her. One instant her pants were clean, in another they were sagging heavy with foul mess. A full load, enough to make her armored pants sage with a bulge the size of a baseball or two, was pushed out in an instant. Forced by the impact and lubricated by fear, she humiliated herself in less than a second. She went flying across the battlefield, landing in an unconscious heap. Anna looked up at the dragon in horror as it drew her closer to its maw. She felt her muscles trembling, fear slowly gaining ground. As it opened its jaw her bladder opened involuntarily, and the inside of her pristine armor soaked through, the crystals lack of joints causing the pee from her impressive bladder to pool at the bottom of her feet and climb up her legs as she filled the inside of her tight armor with warm, liquid fear. As she entered the darkness of its maw, she felt the edge of a sharp tooth brush her and closed her eyes. Her stomach rumbled, and despite her best efforts, the shadowy, deadly feel of its tooth was enough. She pushed a wave of soft mess into her underwear, then another. More and more soft, firm mess filled her panties, spreading out and coating the inside of her armor in poop. She shook with fear until she finished messing herself, then wondered why she wasn’t dead. Opening her eyes, she saw herself outside the dragon’s mouth, and it was grinning at her. It gently set her down on the ground, and she fell onto her butt in a daze with a splat, only making the mess worse. What was going on? The three twins had just enough time to celebrate their victory before they were thrown into their own illusionary horrors. Cyan found herself in a pit of snakes. The effect was almost immediate. The youngest sister who had a crippling fear of snakes curled up into a ball and sobbed. She didn’t even try to stop herself as she peed full force into her chainmail skirt, soaking her panties and the cloth that guarded her legs from the mail, the puddle spreading over her and soaking her entirely as she hid in a ball of her own piss. Her bowels luckily didn’t hold much, and she quickly pushed a large stool into her underwear, but it was able to contain everything. Cyril found herself looking at a pair of skeletons she quickly recognized as her sisters. Tears stung her eyes and she rushed over to them. “Nonononono! I can’t be!” she whispered tearfully. When she reached them, she knelt down, and let out the loudest shriek of fear yet. The skeletons eye sockets were filled with spiders, her worst fear. Falling back on her bottom, she desperately scrabbled away, leaving a trial of pee behind as her bladder released into her panties and clothes. She managed to make it to the corner of the room, a large trial of pee showing her path across the room. She realized her butt was completely smeared with poop, having involuntarily released everything the instant she saw the spiders. Her capacity wasn’t much greater than Cyan’s but she had dragged it everywhere. Her armor would take hours to clean and her clothes were likely unsalvageable. But at least she was away from the spiders. Cyrene found herself facing her worst fear as well. She found herself in the water. She desperately tried to swim upwards, but her armor was too heavy. She tore at it desperately, but it would not come off. Her oxygen drained quickly with her panic, and soon she was choking, trying to scream as horror completely overtook her. She lost all consciousness as her bladder and bowels emptied at the same time, the water around her yelling and her soaked clothes staining. The back of her armor bulged out immensely, her garments unable to hold her considerable mess back, the clothes and panties horribly stained brown as soft mess drippled down the back of her legs. Back in the real world, the triplets were position as in their illusions, Cyan curled up in a ball, Cyril sat on her messy bottom, and Cylene laying on her back. Eventually, the illusion faded, and the younger two sisters woke to their unconscious and extremely messy older sister. They moved over to her, and with combined effort, lifted her. The Red Knight fought the giant spider as she felt her soldiers crumbling around her. Cursing silently in her head as her attention was drawn to a hundred different places defending them, she cut deep into the spider. The sudden release of so many shook her a moment later however, and she feel, clutching the bottom of her skirt in desperation and also to prevent it from flaring up. Another, slightly larger lump was forced into her panties, and she no longer had any concentration left. She wished she could yell at him, wished she could kill this thing and end it… The other nexus exploded behind her, and she resigned herself to focusing her attention on holding it and freeing the illusioned women. The now larger bulge in her panties was uncomfortable but she could handle it. Her spell carried her gently to the ground, and she banished the illusion on the triplets. She turned upwards, wincing as the spider advanced on her overworked form and raised a leg to crush her. A few streams of pee trailed down her legs, but she knew her ward would protect her. A moment later, however, the massive dragon crashed into the spider, sending it crashing to the ground like a collapsing titan and tearing into it with furious teeth, claws and wing buffets. At least he was helping now. Gathering herself, Red made her way to the last nexus, raising her sword and unleashing another pulse of red, pure energy. Corona, her sword, struck again, and the nexus shattered. The shadowy nature of the plane faded, returning to the harmless demiplane it had once been. Sheathing her sword, she let out a sigh of relief. “At least I made it through relatively clean.” She said aloud to herself. She was still shaky from everyone else’s release, but she had made it. “Boo!” she heard from behind her, and let out a loud squeak. Her weakened bladder gave out and a waterfall of yellow streamed down between her legs, soaking her red panties thoroughly and puddling beneath her, thankfully leaving her skit and legs untouched. Her bowels forced another lump into her panties, then another, and soon the bulge forced them out to their full extent, not quite enough to peak down below her skirt but sizable. Striking out behind her, she spun and punched the giant of a man standing behind her, grinning. Her fist, even charged with energy, didn’t seem to do much, but he winced, a rare sign of pain from the giant of a man. Somewhat satisfied, she growled at him. “What the hell was that about, Robin!? I had this under control, we had it won! And then you had to go and take out the rest of my soldiers!? Are you just jealous I was doing better than you!?” Robin couldn’t contain a chuckle, putting his hand on the average sized woman’s head and easy task for the seven foot tall half giant. “Perhaps. Perhaps the master just wanted me to amuse him.” Red blushed hotly, but she knew Robin was teasing her. He knew of her affection, and its lack of return. She didn’t need his teasing right now. Shaking her head, she retorted. “Maybe you just wanted a show. It doesn’t matter I suppose, as long as master realizes how well we would have done without your intrusion.” They both knew he didn’t interfere for his own desires. He was willing to amuse others tastes but he wouldn’t go out of his way for it. But it was the only defense she had. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go gather up the army that you threw all over the battlefield.” She added with a huff. Turning, she let out an eep as she felt Robin;s hands grab her legs and back and scoop her up. “Travis is taking care of that.” He told her. “I’m to take you back.” “Let go of me you big oaf!” she shouted in indignation, punching uselessly at his shoulder. He turned away from the scene and she slumped against his shoulder, basking in the warmth of his body as they left the cold, shadowy plane. “You did a wonderful job.” Travis told her, smiling. She had just returned from the plane with Robin, slipping out of his grip and going to meet Travis while the others cleaned up. She shifted uncomfortably in her messy panties, though she knew there was no trace of her accident visible. The energy around her kept the smell from escaping. She liked to keep her accidents secret, especially when they were intentional or prolonged. “You defended the squad in an exemplary manner, and still fought well yourself. You did, however, fail to keep Luna well-guarded. Dedicate someone to that next time, had I not interfered you would have lost her.” His voice was the same monotone no matter which part he was delivering, which was a bit creepy. “You did much better than Robin, at least. If not for his interference that would have gone off well. Congratulations, Red Knight. You have earned the right to lead your own squad.” Red beamed with pride. For once, she was flooded with happiness. This was her goal. She was affirmed as good enough, as strong enough, to be a commander in the Omega Watch. It was an exhilarating feeling. It was missing one thing, however. She wished he would reach over, grope her bottom through her skirt like he always did with Jill. Anything. But there was nothing but a sense of pride over her accomplishment, pride of her growth. Nothing more emotional than that. And while she was happy, excited, she was also forlorn. “Thank you, commander.” She managed, keeping her voice as formal as possible. Bowing her head in farewell, she left the room. Robin was waiting outside the door, joining her in her walk the instant she exited. “Jealous?” she asked. “Hardly.” Robin replied, rolling his eyes. “You were always better at leading. An exemplary performance indeed. Just one little flaw.” His hand reached under her skirt, groping her messy ass. “Pervert! Jerk!” she shouted, shoving him away and protectively covering her butt. He laughed once again, raising his hands defensively. “I was just pointing it out. None of your squad noticed.” Putting his arm around, her started leading her towards her quarters as she pouted. “I…think I understand how you feel. Sorry about that. Are you going to be alright?” She was silent for a moment. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?” Robin was aware of her longing, the only one here who was. He had comforted her when there was no one else, and while neither of them thought there was more than close friendship between them, she needed something to distract her. And often, he needed something to distract him. He had his own issues. “Just…maybe come with me, alright?” He nodded and pulled her close, petting her hair as the pair entered her quarters. He didn’t know if she meant as someone to cry on or for something more intimate, but he would support her regardless. Sometimes he wondered if his master knew, or cared. Of course he knew, and of course he cared. So what game was he playing? (If anyone is up for rping in this setting by the way I’d be up for it. PM, I have some ideas if you don’t. And of course, comments and criticism. My proofreading is lazy and my writing is shaky so I need all the help/support I can get. And I swear the other two parts of Kagero story are coming.)
  9. (An addition to Livinginfinite's world DGSilver already wrote about, and hopefully Linkx will finish something related sometime as well. Check out Infi's stuff on the site and on Tumblr. Optimally more of these are forthcoming, but we'll see what my free time dictates.) A Ghost, But Not Quite A Phantom PT 1 Taylor split her double sword into two weapons as she spun, narrowly avoiding the leaping pounce of a wolf the size of a bear. She felt a short spurt leak into her garments, and she could feel the guardian start to fill from repeated leaks. This was ridiculous! How could she be expected to hold through this?! These things were insane! Her thoughts were cut off by the deafening roar of an elephant sized bear, and she let out a whimper as she began to flood herself. Her soggy guardian was no match for the flood and her skintight black pants showed a barely noticeable expanding wet patch as she leaked through her diaper. She should be better than this! Still peeing, she launched herself towards the charging bear, leaping into the air and driving her twin blades into its eyes. The beast reared back, howling in pain, and she let go with one hand, a spell projector dropping from the metal ornamentation on her arm. She fired, and the bear fell backwards, writhing in intense pain. She ripped her swords free from its eyes, easily merging them back together and driving one end of the double sword through the incapacitated bear’s skull. She had to be quick. Pulling the sword out, she spun, barely getting it up in time to block the closing jaws of the massive wolf monster. Staring into its maw was terrifying, she had to admit, and she shamefully realized she had already dropped a mass of firm poo into her guardian as she narrowly avoided death by its jaws. Angrily, she spun the sword in a violent motion, the blades lashing out and ripping the monsters head apart. The two monsters dealt with, she turned around only to fall to her knees, trembling. Rising up out of the water nearby was a colossal kraken, larger than any ship she had ever seen. Her sword clattered to the ground, and she felt another wave of pee assault her overwhelmed padding, soaking her tight black suit even further. Even worse, she could feel warm mush exiting her at a rapid pace, overwhelming the phantom in the space of a few moments and forced to spread around in her tight black pants, spreading up her back and down her legs. It was soft and sticky, and she knew cleanup would be a bitch. Suddenly, everything faded. Taylor opened her eyes, looking around the small, dark room. Taylor herself was a well muscled, lithe woman, with short red hair and brilliant blue eyes. She wore a tight fitting black leather suit, which at the moment was weighed down significantly by her own waste. Joining her in the room was a pair of redheads. One, wearing heavy armor with a massive hammer leaning against the wall next to wear she sat, had similar short red hair and piercing blue eyes. Unlike Taylor, she was a giant of a woman, though more in width than height. Standing at around six feet and in every aspect impressive, most of the woman was concealed beneath her heavy combat armor. Lastly, a technomancer stood facing her, a third woman with red hair and bright blue eyes, though this one’s hair was significantly longer. She wore tight white clothes, the symbol of an imperial technomancer inscribed on the breast of the uniform. She was curvy and attractive, fitting in between the lithe tone and hulking muscle of the other two. “Over already?” Taylor asked jokingly, carefully standing and checking the extent of her accident. “Man that spell is brutal, Chrys. I do way worse in that than any of the other FRMTs. “It is the final test, after all. It’s bound to be difficult.” Chrysalis, the technomancer, replied. “She just wanted to get it over with quickly.” The third figure chimed in from the wall. “She’s about to make as bad a mess of her Sentinel as you did of your joke of a diaper.” Taylor turned to look, and indeed, Chrysalis was squirming, the sagging front of her Sentinel training garment clearly visible through her tight white pants. “Go ahead and go before I get cleaned up then.” Taylor told her, moving over to the changing area to begin the arduous process of cleanup. Chrysalis turned to leave, but suddenly a loud slam echoed through the room, followed by a shout of “Anybody home!?”. It seemed they had an interested buyer. Unfortunately for Chrysalis, the loud noise was too much. With a whimper, the technomancer could do nothing as she released a noisy mess into her Sentinel. The ppblllrrtt was audible as she loudly voided herself, the back of her white pants expanding as she pressed the training underwear to its capacity. Even worse, she flooded the front of her white pants with pee, the overwhelmed diaper unable to keep her fearful reaction entirely contained. Chrysalis gingerly felt her bottom, grimacing as she felt the extent of the damage. “Anna, go deal with our visitor. I need to cleanup.” “Of course. Give the oh-so continent FMRT rank 4 and 5 time to clean up. Right on it.” Anna replied. Despite her jab, the heavily armored woman rose, slinging her hammer over her shoulder, and left the room to deal with their visitor. Both girls began to strip out of their messy garments, cleaning up. “So, getting any better?” Chrysalis asked. “Not really.” Taylor replied, managing to keep any hint of disappointment out of her voice. “I can never make it past the big one. The spell is just too much.” Chrysalis nodded. “Consider yourself lucky you could make it past the dragon to get rank five. That thing still gives me nightmares.” “Well…I wouldn’t say my dreams are dragon free either. Thank god there’s no such thing.” Taylor replied. “Here, let me-“ the assassin reached over and helped Chrys with a particularly determined chunk of poo. Working together, the pair managed to get themselves cleaned up in time for Anna to return. A short while later, Anna returned. “We’ve got three jobs. Two of them are Taylor’s style, one will need all three of us. And we got a message from Tribe Leader Ashaya. She needs more supplies, and is willing to pay well for them. It seems concealing her…feminine problems have required more garments than she expected.” Anna grinned at the last comment, tossing the short letter from Ashaya onto the table. Chrysalis shot it a quick glance, then looked over the small magical tablet Anna handed her. A few moments later, she nodded. “Alright, this shouldn’t take more than a few days. Anna, you will deal with Windhowl, then Gravemounte. Anna and I will retrieve some vanguards for Ashaya. After that, we’ll meet up with the Promise of Storm and have Travis drop us off for the final job.” The other two women nodded, and Chrysalis passed off the datapad to Taylor. Looking over it, the woman broke out into a grin. “So, some vengeance for those stupid FRMT’s, then an illicit liason? This will be fun. I even get to go protection-less for the second one.” “Lucky.” Anna replied, a hint of jealousy in her voice. “It’s not as if we can send the Titan wearer on a mission unprotected.” Taylor retorted, grinning. “Shut up, you know it’s only because my releases are so large. I qualify for the same pretty little garment you wear otherwise. And…try not to wear nice pants when you go out for the second one.” Both other women giggled slightly at her reaction, and Taylor nodded. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m getting into. Don’t be too jealous, you two.” Chrysalis blushed slightly at that, but shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy charming the general plenty, but we don’t need to hear about it. Let’s all get ready to, shall we? Unless Anna needs a change first, of course.” The large redhead shook her head, and with that the three dispersed to gather gear and then head out. Taylor set off first. Dressed in the same tight black uniform and a fresh guardian, she fingered a small spell projector as she left the compound. Created by Chrysalis, it would allow her to appear as a guardswoman so as not to draw suspicion. It was an hour or so walk to the nearest rail station. Entering the women’s entrance, she sighed as she made her way over to a changing table. The journey to the center of the city would take hours, and women were required to wear significant protection for the journey. She could already feel a need nagging at her after the walk anyway. A friendly looking young woman with light brown hair approached, dressed in the uniform of the rail service. Her own diaper was slightly visible beneath her uniform. “Where might you be headed today?” she asked in a cheerful voice. “Center City, upper layer.” Taylor replied. The woman nodded, and retrieved a thick civilian diaper. It wasn’t quite like the titans or vanguards the military used, but it was equally unpleasant. Taylor reluctantly allowed the woman to change her into the larger garment, taking small satisfaction in the woman’s frown at Taylor’s pristine guardian. Packing away the guardian for later, Taylor exited the room, calling a curt “Thanks.” to the girl who had changed her. Awkwardly walking with her newfound padding, Taylor took her seat, shifting to try and get comfortable. The woman beside her was obviously wearing a similar garment beneath her clothes, and it smelled as if she had already made use of it. Once Taylor settled in, she began to review the plan in her head, scoping the layout of the building over and over in her mind. Unconsciously lost in thought, the assassin crossed her legs tightly, her needs growing worse. Taylor may have qualified for a guardian, but none of those tests helped her as she unknowingly began to soak her provided garment. The padding was already obvious through her skintight suit, and it expanded as she emptied her bladder, unaware. The padding eagerly ate up the accident, the warmth pooling around her thighs familiar enough to Taylor it didn’t even stir her from her thoughts. A few minutes later, Taylor was shaken out of her thoughts by a loud, “Hey!” The assassin managed to muffle a shriek of surprise, and did not manage to hide the blush that formed on her face as she fearfully and rapidly pushed a solid mass of poo into her diaper. Coming to the realization she had wet herself as well, she internally cursed. She should be better than this, she was Guardian qualified! “What?” she asked the source of the shout, managing to speak calmly despite her internal annoyance. Looking over, she saw the woman beside her was the source, clearly desperate. “I’m sorry, I need you to move and you weren’t responding.” She replied to Taylor, apologizing sheepishly. “My…protection won’t hold another accident, I need to go to the bathroom…” “You can’t even take these off by yourself. There’s no point.” “But…” the woman looked horrified. “You could help me, right?” she asked, suddenly hopeful. “I’m not changing the diaper of a stranger I just met.” Taylor replied coldly. Before the other woman could reply, another voice spoke up. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Taylor turned to see a tall blonde woman, dressed very businesslike, speaking. She looked very serious, and was doing her very best to hide the slight trembling in her legs as she clearly needed to go badly. “We can’t take these off ourselves?” “No, you just have to use them. Have you not been on one of these before?” Taylor grumbled. She didn’t want attention drawn to her as she was about too poop her diaper, and had already started thanks to the woman beside her. “That’s ridiculous! I’m a grown woman, they can’t trap me in this…this…toddler’s garment.” The businesswoman huffed. She turned to move again, but paused to keep control of herself. “I will speak to the captain. There must be some accommodation.” Taylor rolled her eyes. It didn’t occur to her much, but she supposed civilians weren’t used to wearing protection all the time, and certainly weren’t used to being in frightening situations that would make them need it. “No sense in letting her cause trouble…” Taylor muttered under her breath. Loosening the strap on one of her metal armguards, she let it fall to the metal floor with a resounding clatter. All eyes turned to the sound, and both women reacted with surprise. The already soiled woman reacted fairly gracefully compared to the blonde. She let out a small shriek and began to soil her diaper once again. Hot pee flooded her diaper, and it could no longer contain it, yellow liquid running down the woman’s legs beneath her skirt and puddling on the train floor. Her bowels emptied as well, semisolid mush pushing into her diaper and expanding beyond its capacity, staining her thighs and bottom around the protective garment. The blonde cried out at the sound, and she clamped her hands on her bottom. Bending over, she presented a view of her diapered bottom from beneath her tight skirt. “Nonono this can’t be happening I can’t soil myself aaaaaa.” Tears filled her eyes, and it started with a loud hissing sound, followed moments later by a series of loud and rude farts. The visible bottom of her diaper rapidly browned and expanded as she noisily and messily shit her diaper. Taylor took the opportunity to finish her business while eyes were on the woman. Standing slightly out of her seat to pick up her armguard, she relaxed her bowels, pushing a few solid logs into her diaper. Reattaching the guard, she reluctantly sat back down, grimacing slightly as the mess squished around. An attendant arrived soon enough, leading the sobbing blonde back to her seat, and Taylor settled in for the rest of the journey, not exactly a stranger to being in a messy diaper. Taylor exited the train, walking awkwardly in her messy diaper. Sitting there like that was awful, but it had to be done. Pausing as she entered the changing area, she released her bladder, a fresh wave of pee soaking her diaper. No sense in holding it. She blushed a bit as a changing assist tittered at her expanding diaper and moved over to help her, and she tuned out for the duration of changing, doing her best to ignore the other women changing around her. She was sure the woman from beside her and the blonde were both being cleaned up. Changed back into her guardian, Taylor left the station. It was a short walk to the military complex, and after stepping into an alley and activating her soldier disguise, Taylor entered the complex. Walking around as a guard was simple. No one stopped to question her, no one seemed suspicious she wasn’t a face they recognized. Moving into the medical area, she passed by several areas where women were being changed out of the larger diapers, and could see a few soiled women moving towards those areas from the FRMT rooms. All kinds of women were moving around or being changed, but they all shared the constant presence of a diaper, most of them dripping with urine and sagging with feces. She even saw one heavily muscled woman crouched beside the changing table, grunting as she filled her diaper with poo. Must be making sure everything was out. Moving towards the operations desk for the FRMT area, she wrote down a false name on the sheet. The woman gave it a once over, accepted Taylor’s payment, and nodded. “You’re good to go, just choose a room.” Taylor was glad her disguise showed signs of a larger diaper, since it meant no questions were asked when she headed to the FRMT room without changing into a heavier diaper first. She had to go a bit again, but it wasn’t urgent. And she needed to be ready for Windhowl to arrive. The general would be using this specific room, and so far, everything was going as planned. Shutting the door behind her, Taylor took a moment to be thankful these rooms were soundproofed. It was to prevent the scared women’s screams from disturbing others, of course, but it was certainly convenient. “If you’ll just take a seat in the chair and tell me what rank you are testing for, we can begin.” Said the woman sitting at the desk in the room. “Well…” Taylor changed from walking pace to lightning fast speed, shooting across the room and letting her disguise fall as she drew her blade, ending with the weapon extended, point just touching the woman’s neck. “Hands in the air, stand up.” She commanded. The FRMT giver gulped and quickly stood, raising her hands. Her entire body was shaking, and as she rose Taylor could see a rapidly expanding stain appear on her pants. A few farts and a wet crackling sound indicated she was not doing much better to the rear of her pants. It seemed she hadn’t worn protection to work today. A poor plan. As the woman stood, Taylor vaulted onto the desk and drove her knee right into the woman’s stomach, then struck her with a powerful blow to the head. The attendant crumpled, and Taylor stuffed her under the desk, reapplying her disguise to look like the now unconscious attendant. Moving over to the door, she opened it a bit to give the indication the room was free, then moved back to the desk. Soon enough, she heard the commotion outside that signaled Windhowl’s arrival. “I’ve never had an accident in one of these tests in my life, I don’t need that stupid thing. Damn it!” Despite her protests, soon enough one of the most famous warriors in the Empire, both for her continence and her prowess, was wearing a Titan. Fuming, she made her way into the pre-arranged room, Taking a seat in the chair with a huff. “Welcome general. I’m sorry about the garment, its simply standard protocol.” Taylor spoke as she moved over to the door and shut it tightly, then approached Windhowl from behind. “It’s assault is what it is! They know very well I don’t need this!” Taylor smirked, letting the general rant. She activated the chair, magical bindings reaching out and securing the general in place. A precaution for panicked reactions by women lost in the throes of the illusionary terrors. Taylor took the necklace that filled women’s bladder and bowels, designed to make the test indicative of situations where they had no chance to relieve themselves, and slipped it over Windhowl’s neck, securing it. “What are you doing? Did you forget who you’re testing!?” Windhowl protested, trying to twist around in her chair to glare angrily. Taylor simply grinned. Part of their information had revealed Windhowl’s deal, and why she would come to this room. She relieved herself before the test, and the tester simply didn’t apply the necklace. “Today is a little different.” Taylor replied. “What!? I’ll have your head for this, you ungrateful-“ Windhowl’s words stopped short as Taylor held the cold blade of her sword to Windhowl’s neck. “You will be a good little girl and do as you are told.” Taylor told her coldly. Windhowl whimpered, and to her credit she managed to keep her diaper dry. Her bowels were a different story, however, and a loud pppbblllrrrttt was audible as she noisily pushed a wave of soft mess into her diaper. “Looks like your record is already broken, general.” Taylor commented, walking back around to the desk. She returned Windhowl’s death glare with a calm smile, and picked up the attendant’s spell projector. “Let’s begin the test, shall we? Six is appropriate for your rank, I believe?” Windhowl, bladder and bowels rapidly filling, gulped at the prospect, but reluctantly nodded. “Excellent.” Taylor stated, then pointed the projector and began firing it. One, two, three, and Windhowl was lost in the illusion. But Taylor kept firing. Four, five, six. The max amount used in FRMTs. Seven, Eight, Nine. The maximum safe limit. Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen. Taylor set the wand down, and simply watched. For the first few minutes, only a small wet patch appeared on Windhowl’s diaper, and she seemed to be doing fine. Then the next wave kicked in, and she soaked it. When the next one kicked in, she filled it to capacity, pushing out hard and soft mess along with a torrent of pee. When the last wave hit, the massive diaper was overwhelmed. Pee streamed down the chair and puddled on the ground around her, and her already sagging bottom overloaded, mess spreading around inside her pants and slowly soiling them in their entirety. Taylor smiled as she listened to Windhowl’s terrified cries. The woman’s muscles were working overtime as they desperately stopped her refilling bladder and bowels, just before she was frightened again and once again filler her overloaded garment with warm liquid and mush. It was simply too much for them, and soon enough her muscles simply stopped working, no longer able to stem the tide of accidents. Permanent damage, likely. Taylor watched for a long while, waiting until Windhowl’s cries were finally dying down. She could see the damage was done, the general no longer putting up any sort of fight against the fear. Satisfied she had completed her mission, she picked up the magical recording device she had set on the table and let it take one last shot of the enormously soiled general before ending the recording and slipping it back into her suit. Setting up the unconscious FRMT attendant back in her seat, she pulled another magical device from inside her uniform. A moment later, she vanished from sight, and quietly slipped out of the room. From Windhowl’s perspective, things went horribly wrong. She was on a battlefield, and her side was clearly losing. The general was fine for the first few minutes, cutting down enemy soldiers and managing to ignore her rapidly growing need. An arrow narrowly missed her, and she gasped, feeling warmth suffuse her crotch. Still, the leakage was minor, and most women lost complete control at that simple test. Suddenly, spells began to fly, and Windhowl sped up her movement, avoiding the areas being most assaulted and charging for mages when she could. It seemed someone caught on, however, and she dived forward as a massive fireball exploded behind her. The magical detonation sent a wave of fear through her body, and as she landed with the clattering of armor her bladder failed her. Warm liquid rapidly pooled inside her large diaper, and the general hung her head in shame as she fearfully pissed herself. She tried to rise, but a powerful kick sent her sprawling backwards. Looking up, she stared trembling into the eyes of a massive earth elemental, summoned by the enemy mages. Her hands went for her dropped swords, but the creature stamped down and the ground shook with power, her blades shattering. Windhowl looked between the elemental, then back at her broken swords, and let out a mewling whimper. She involuntarily began to push a series of solid logs into her diaper, each one spreading further as they pushed against the limits of her armor. Just as she finished her fearful release, the giant elemental snatched her up in its powerful grasp. She barely had time to scream before it squeezed, and the sound was suddenly a gasp as she struggled for air. She had no control as it squeezed her, a loud hissing sound making it clear she was once again pissing herself. A loud wet ppbbllrrt was not far behind as the creature’s crushing grip and terrifying appearance forced her to shit herself once again, this time liquid mess exploding into her diaper, filling up the remaining space in the garment with hot liquid diarrhea. Luckily, the Titan could manage to contain it. She couldn’t breathe, and soon enough everything faded to black. When she came too, she was sitting at her desk, wearing normal attire. Her panties were completely unsoiled, and it seemed as usual she had forgone any sort of protection. She didn’t need such a thing. When she heard the sounds of gunfire outside her door, however, she wasted no time in soaking her panties and pants. The white uniform pants did little to hide her accident, and she cursed her sudden weakness as she looked down at her see through, warm, and piss soaked trousers. Suddenly, there was a banging at the door, as if someone was trying to break it down. “The general is in here. Make sure she doesn’t escape alive!” she heard a man say. Gulping, Windhowl moved quickly, curling up and hiding under her desk. A moment later, the crack of the door breaking down was audible, and a pair of hammer wielding men entered the room. “Where is she? She couldn’t have gone out some other way!” Windhowl quivered nervously beneath the desk. The men were in the room now…she felt helpless as her quivering bowel muscles pushed soft mess into her panties, the practical white garments sagging heavily but managing to contain the accident. Windhowl couldn’t believe herself. She was curled up under the desk, soiling herself like a frightened child. She was one of the strongest warriors in the empire! Suddenly, one of the men’s hammers slammed into the desk above her, and it took all of her control to not let out a shriek of fear. She was sobbing in terror now, and a fresh wave of pee soaked her pants, thoroughly covering her legs in piss and a large puddle growing beneath her. She would have to grovel, to beg them too… Suddenly, two shots of a spell projector ran out, and the men fell dead. She could see both their bodies hit the floor beside the desk from her position hiding beneath it. At the shots, she pushed another wave of soft mush into her panties, this time overwhelming them and staining her bottom and thighs with warm, sticky mess. She was softly crying now, completely distraught. She had no control left, her iron bladder was gone. “Hey, who’s under there?” a voice called, and a projector poked around the corner of the desk. The mewling general couldn’t even manage a response, simply voiding her bladder and bowels once again. The puddle beneath her expanded considerably, her entire top now soaked, even her silvery hair clearing wet with pee. A third wave of soft mush filled her panties, forcing mess to spread everywhere down her legs. She could feel warm mush caking her entire lower body, and sticky warm urine coating everything from head to toe. All she could do was sob. “General?” the voice asked, and a male guard walked around the desk. Looking down at the general, he burst into laughter. “So this is how the mighty windhowl reacts to combat? Of course your record was a lie. They all seem to be. Come on, I’ll get you changed.” He shook his head in disgust. Windhowl wanted to protest, to say that this normally didn’t happen, but all she could do was sob and wish she was dead. This embarrassment was too much… How could she face any of her subordinates like this? Everything faded to black again. This time she was in a diaper again. A titan, unsoiled. It was dark, and it took her a few moments to realize she was in the woods. She started to rise, but suddenly, spiders descended from the trees. Looking around, she realized she was surrounded by webs. The spiders that surrounded her were gigantic, fangs large enough they could bite her head off and hundreds of massive red eyes, all staring at her. She broke. Spiders were terrifying, and while she usually had a good enough hold on herself to limit the sight of a spider to a slightly damp phantom, this time it was too much. The spiders approached, and her bladder and bowels fully released, and didn’t stop. Pee soaked her Titan, filling the massive garment up to capacity over the course of several minutes and then forming a rapidly expanding puddle as it overloaded the diaper, thoroughly soaked the inside of her armor, and still didn’t stop coming. It was as if her bladder muscles simply stopped working. Her bowels followed suit, pushing wave after wave of soft mush into her Titan. As it reached its limit, she let out a wet explosion of farts and diarrhea, overloading the diaper and coating her legs in liquid mess. More waves followed, interspersed with liquid feces, and soon enough the entire inside of her armor was filled with warm mess, more of it collecting on the ground beneath her. The spiders bit at her and wrapped her in their weapon, but she wasn’t even coherent enough to notice at this point. All she did was cry and scream with fear, reduced to a mewling incontinent child. Taylor carefully made her way through the complex, avoiding people as much as possible. She was detectible while invisible, it was just hard. The whole time, her bladder and bowels were nagging her. She needed to go. But she couldn’t exactly stop at a bathroom here. Rounding a corner, she came face to face with a closed door, two female guards flanking it. She paused…how was she going to deal with this? She would have to make due. Slipping a projector out of her armguard, she fired it at each of the women. One guard took off immediately, although the hissing and crackling of the beginnings of her accident were clearly audible. The other guard crouched, grimacing, and she closed her eyes, both hands holding her bottom. The sound of her forcefully peeing in her diaper was audible, but she was holding the rest back. Taylor took the opportunity to slip over to the door and quietly open it. As she took once last look back she heard the woman beside her grown and with a loud bllrrppttt push wet mess into her diaper, despite her best efforts. Taylor slipped through the door, closing it silently behind her. Turning forward, she froze, using all her willpower not to let out a sound. Walking down the hall towards her was a large woman wearing the distinctive goggles of a mage killer. Such goggles allowed them to detect magic, and they normally carried ways to nullify magical attack. The goggled woman’s eyes settled on Taylor, and the assassin felt her crotch rapidly grow warm. The goggled woman approached, but Taylor was frozen in fear, the hissing sound of her soaking her diaper likely audible. The large woman grabbed at the spot she detected the concealing spell, snatching Taylor up by the neck. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she growled at the invisible woman before her. Taylor whimpered, mind racing to try and find a plan. It was hard, however, with fear coursing through her, and instead of coming up with a plan she continued to whimper and began to push warm mush into her diaper. The small garment wasn’t really designed to contain a full accident, and some of it escaped, coating her thighs and bottom. As she lost control, Taylor managed to slide her sword out of her armguard, jabbing out at the woman grabbing her with a trio of well-aimed blows. Not to kill, simply to wound and terrify. And indeed, the woman let go of her, crying out in pain. Taylor fell to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself before she lashed out with the hilt of her sword, slamming the woman in the stomach and then the head, repeatedly. The goggled woman fell back against the wall, unconscious, her diaper rapidly expanding with pee and poo. Putting her sword away, Taylor continued on her escape, grimacing each time the mess spread further as she was forced to move quickly in her messy state. Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before she reached the rooftop airship docking area. Just before she entered it, she let her invisibility fall off, replacing it with an illusion of a relatively ranking officer. Opening the door, she walked outside, waving off the question of one of the few attendants, and walked towards one of the ships. It looked like a regular imperial airship, but she knew that was simply a façade. When she reached it, an imperial solider on deck offered a hand, and she took it, pulling herself onboard. Suddenly, she could see everything as it was. The ship itself was a sleek vessel, engraved with lightning bolts and mounting a large fore and aft magical projector. It had no broadside but was decently large, being a smuggling ship designed to carry cargo. The Imperial helping her aboard and the other three imperials on the ship also had their disguise revealed to her. Two of them were powerfully built half dragon women, standing tall broad shouldered. One carried an icy sword at her hip, the other a vicious two headed flail. The short and stocky man standing at the helm had short dark hair, a poorly groomed moustache, shining blue eyes, and wore a vicious looking hammer at his belt. Lastly, the woman helping her aboard. She wore tight teal coat and pants with gold trim, the coat open a bit to expose her considerable breasts, covered in a tight fitting black undershirt. She wore a light blue scarf around her neck and her bright red hair was held in a ponytail. “Welcome back, Taylor.” She greeted the assassin, hugging the other woman in greeting. “Was the mission a success?” Taylor nodded, smirking a bit. “Windhowl will never pass another FRMT.” She replied with confidence, hugging the other redhead back. The redhead laughed. “You soldier’s and your tests. I almost feel sorry for her.” The ship began to lift off as they spoke, breaking away from the tower towards their next destination. “Katarina, get the poor thing cleaned up! I don’t need her stinking up my ship!” the short man at the helm called down at them. Katarina rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Yes captain.” She called back in a droll tone. Releasing Taylor, she smiled. “He’s right, I suppose. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We still don’t carry any of your type, but I’m sure you’ll manage.” The other redhead led the way towards the inside of the ship, Taylor meekly following behind, blushing at the captain’s comment. She always felt a bit inferior in this company. She had seen how fiercely protective Travis was of women who were in danger, and it was terrifying. And Katarina was confident walking around in no protection. She felt nervous, like a potty trained little kid who had an accident, and her parents were being nice about it. Still, they were powerful allies, and she knew despite what most would say all the soldier women appreciated someone as protective as Travis. Not that she would ever admit it. Windhowl was awoken on top of a changing table. She looked down and realized with a surprise that she was clean, and wearing a fresh titan. Sitting up, she looked to the doctor beside her who was busy writing at his desk. “What is the meaning of this? Why am I in a Titan?” she demanded. The man turned, looking at her nervously. “Well…you see…ah…we had you in your normal wear but while you were unconscious you just kept overflowing it and we thought we should…I’m sorry general.” She grinned slightly. At least she could still bring obedience and fear out of people, even in a giant puffy diaper with unicorns on it. Damn these Titan’s design patterns. Carefully rising, she neglected to say anything more to the man, dressing herself and looking down at the Titan showing beneath her pants with a grimace. She would have to do something about that. Stepping out of the room, she began to walk back to her room. About halfway there, she felt sudden warmth fill her diaper. She was peeing, and hadn’t even noticed she had to go….damn that FRMT attendant, she would pay for this. She walked faster, hoping to reach her room before she had an even worse accident. And reach it she did. Swiping her card, she entered her room, the door sliding shut behind her. As she headed for the bathroom, however, her communication device began ringing loudly. She bit back a shriek of surprise, but the sound was too much for her bowels, and she involuntarily pushed a large log of poo into her diaper. She still couldn’t even feel the need to go. She walked over to the device but by then the ringing stopped. A simple message was left: report to the director’s office. She grimaced. Turning back to the bathroom, she entered it before pausing in horror. She was in a Titan, she couldn’t take it off by herself!” She felt her body give up at the thought, and a barrage of solid logs filled her large diaper. Now thoroughly wet and soiled, Windhowl reluctantly began to make her way to the changing area, wondering how she would ever explain this. (If you check out Livinginfinite’s art thread and tumblr and such you’ll see a picture of Katarina I commissioned. And also a lot of cool art if you like this sort of thing.)
  10. I feel dirty using that bland thing as a title but bleh I dunno. I have been sitting on this for a while its two chapters worth of a loose idea I had while playing Mass effect 2. I usually don't write fanfiction but femshep is just too much my type to pass up. Strong redhead female space captain, yes please. So please sit down and embark on a wonderful journey with me. Looking back its actually decent length if the mood takes me I may write more but I have so many unfinished pieces at the moment .-. anyway, without further adieu your story. “Shepard please sit down, we're not finished yet. I need you to talk to me about this... it is important to have you performing at peak physical and mental aptitude. Nocturnal enureisis can be a symptom of much large issue.” The captain of the SSV Normandy 2 blushed profusely listening to the words of her chief medical officer. No matter how clinically she spoke of it or how many technical terms she used the good doctor was still referring to her bedwetting issue. An issue an intrepid heroine such as herself should not be suffering. “I've ran every test available and it’s not cystitis or pyelonephritis. I also screened against every known Krogan, Turian, Salarian, et all based digestive tract infection that could have jumped ship and everything comes back negative. In short I can't find any medical reason beyond the normal female condition that you would start wetting the bed...” the silvery haired woman said with a sigh. “I suppose being brought back by the Lazarus project could have had an adverse effect on your core musculature and parasympathetic response but I just don't know...” she postulated. Shepard just blushed nearly as red as her hair. She knew it had been happening for much longer than before she had died. Even aboard the original Normandy every couple mornings she would arise tangled in a sodden mess of sheets dampened by her own urine. The primary difference was there was no ai aboard the original Normandy to track her issue until deemed a noteworthy pattern. Edi turned in a report documenting the commander's night time incontinence to Dr. Chakwas who had reviewed the document with a frown. The ai had been meticulous about its monitoring, frequency of unintentional voiding, a rough estimate of the amount of urine spilled as well estimated loss of sleep in hours and water consumed by regularly cleaning her sheets. It was all rather disconcerting to the doctor and longtime friend of Shepard. More worrisome than the contents of the report was the credence it lent the rumors that occasionally floated past her ears. Wild claims of Shepard's cowardice in battle the woman retreating from the field of operation her underclothes soaked with piss or sometimes worse... She shook her head clearing her thoughts of such matters turning her attention back to the captain before she spoke again. “This goes beyond the common issues of stress incontinence that I tend to see with some of the female soldiers. It's nothing to be ashamed about, you can't fight physiology in a high impact environment and high stress. I think... although I'm certainly not an expert that it might be psychological... I would recommend you speak with Kelly in private but I get the feeling the less people who know the better.” the doctor said running a hand through her silvery hair setting down her clipboard taking a more casual tone with Shepard. “You mentioned nightmares Shepard... maybe that's a good place to start.” She suggested trying to get her foot in the door with the reclusive commander. The redhead grunted in response looking rather irritated by the whole scenario. “Look Karin... its really a non-issue. So I pissed the bed a few times it happens to everyone...” she said defensively as a blush crept onto her cheeks. She downplayed the frequency but the doctor knew better with the empirical evidence provided by EDI. “Shepard please, I'm trying to help you... at least tell me about the nightmare.” the exasperated doctor asked trying her best not to show frustration at her captain's stubborn pride. “Fine... I... do you remember when we stormed the Collector's base.” she said quietly as a look of unease crept over her face just speaking about it. “Shepard how could I forget, your valiance saved me.... saved all of us. It hasn't even been a month past that momentous victory.” Chakwas said allowing herself to gush spilling praise at Shepard briefly. “Yes yes...” Shepard said sounding a bit miffed at the doctor's sudden enthusiastic response giving her a sharp look before continuing. “W...well I'm facing down that hybrid human reaper and the battle is going well but before I know it everyone is dead around me... Jack... Grunt... Miranda... Garrus... Tali... all staring at me with their dead lifeless eyes. I don't even know what happened but I let everyone down...” The stressed redhead said trailing off as she ran a hand through her hair letting out an exasperated sigh clearly uncomfortable discussing the situation. “I turn back to see the reaper laughing... it’s a bone chilling sound, the kind of noise you hear that cuts you right to the bone. The kind of sound you hear before you die and it gets me...” She explained letting out a shiver at the thought. A blush tinged her face as she once again had to pause to find her voice. “I usually wake after that and find I um... need to do laundry...” the captain said using the innocuous euphemism to help nurse her pride. “I see...” was the doctor's only response as she scribbled some notes onto a datapad looking rather pensive at the redhead. “Ok... I told you about the dream are we done?” she asked anxiously fidgeting in her seat. With a reluctant sigh Chakwas nodded. “You've opened up a little as I asked. I won't push you for more but try to take it easy ok Shepard? We'll touch base next week.” she spoke with a collected calm to which the soldier just responded with a grunt before getting to her feet and rushing out. She strode quickly from the medical bay anxious to get back to her quarters. The session had been longer than she had anticipated which only exacerbated things. During her retelling of the bone chilling nightmare she had dribbled slightly into her panties. Granted it was only a small amount but the dampness was distinctly present rubbing against her sensitive area as she took hurried steps. “I even scared myself with that... damn it Shepard get a hold of yourself.” she cursed her weak willed bladder with a scowl. Fortunately nothing showed on her officer's uniform thanks in part to the underwear she had procured. Aria the one and only crime-boss of omega had suggested the garments after witnessing a lack of control exhibited by Shepard after consuming one too many drinks at afterlife. Woven by special Asarii seamstresses the panties looked as if they were regular underwear. The pair she wore now a dark red nearly matching her hair. These underwear had a special bottom portion layer spun with fabric that had absorbency in mind to help minimize the obvious leaks and dribbles that would have instead dampened her pants. To a casual observer they appeared as if they were normal panties. They were a damn sight more discrete than the standard incontinence wear issued to Systems Alliance Military females for which she was grateful even though the protection provided was minimal. Her supply had been dwindling after a few too many full blown panty soilings which no matter how hard she scrubbed could not lift the stains from. Disgusted with herself she wore the last passable pair the rest of which she’d secretly deposited of in the ships waste material compression unit otherwise known as a trash compactor for disposal. Despite the leaks and arduous task of having to wash her underwear after having a messy accident they were still the most amount of protection her pride allowed herself to wear. “You’re a specter… not a toddler.” She would tell herself angrily denying the reality of her embarrassing situation while doing her best to assure her psyche she had it under control. Lost in her thoughts she idly pushed the button calling the elevator down to return to her quarters. She shifted ever so slightly trying to stand comfortably despite the clingy dampness between her legs. Darting into the lift as the doors opened she didn’t even notice the large figure of the rather imposing Krogan crew member waiting to depart. With a hard thud she walked straight into Grunt’s chest and let out a surprised yelp. The unexpected shock loosened her tenuous hold over her bladder and stumbling back she was vaguely aware of gushing warmth between her legs before she managed to clamp down and regain control as best she could. She looked up at the scaly alien and blushed doing her best to compose herself praying that her lack of control wasn’t obvious. The krogan just let out a grunt his nostril’s flaring slightly as the acrid scent of piss wafted past his nose. “My apologies commander…” he said gruffly before stepping around her leaving the surprised woman standing in the lift alone. She quickly pushed the button to take her to her floor. Squirming in place the now very noticeable wetness between her legs caused her to blush. Looking down she could see a small circular spot of wetness soaking through her pants. Her last leak had been enough to thoroughly saturate the absorbent portion of her protective panties. The unexpected leak had left her with a more pressing need to go. Tugging at the tail of her long officer’s shirt she felt the familiar tickle in her nose. The alien dander often irritated her sinuses and as the door to the elevator opened with a chime signaling she was at her floor Shepard leaned her head back convulsing ever so slightly before her whole body stiffened. Her pelvic floor dropped and it began. Throwing her head forward she sneezed loud enough to echo through top halls of the Normandy. She gasped when she finally stopped after the third sneeze and could hear the pitter patter of urine hitting the sterile floor of the ship. Her weak bladder was pushed over the edge by her sneezing fit and she could feel the liquid warmth creeping down her thighs down her calves darkening her pants the entire way down pooling in her boots. Once the stream had turned into dribbles she darted out of the elevator not bothering to clean the puddle behind her for fear of being caught and rushed into her private quarters feeling the pee in her boots squelch with each step. Hearing the door shut behind her with a hiss she just groaned looking down at her pants the sharp smell of piss biting her nose. Glumly she walked towards her bathroom stopping at the computer terminal. “EDI… unknown puddle of liquid in the elevator. Have a drone clean it…” she commanded the AI with an innocuous order. The computerized voice piped up. “Of course Shepard. Three hundred and seventy-six milliliters of female human urine removed from elevator one following your departure. “Is there anything else I can assist you with Shepard?” the ai asked. “N…no that will be all.” She responded quickly resuming her trip to the shower. Maybe it was the computerized voice, maybe it was the scientific quantification of how much she’d actually peed onto the floor of her cruiser. Whatever the reason hearing the mechanized voice of the ship’s ai announcing it had cleaned up her puddle of piss flustered the woman more than she already had been. Pulling off each boot she grimaced in disgust pouring out pee having to rinse out each piece of footwear with before setting them off to the side. Her socks were saturated and she left them along with her pants in the sink. Tossing off her shirt she stared momentarily at herself in the mirror whilst she unclasped her bra. Her panties felt slightly weighted down. The special fabric didn’t look particularly wet but appeared slightly thicker where it had swelled with pee. The worst part was how wet it felt between her legs and hopping into the shower she quickly let the warm water rinse her shame away wearing her panties into the wash to give them a preliminary cleaning to help keep the smell out. A soft knock came at the doctor’s medical quarters not three minutes after she had let Shepard leave. Slowly the feminine figure entered. Her curvy hips swayed ever so slightly as the raven haired symbol of physical beauty and strength approached. “May I help you Miranda?” asked a caring Karin Chakwas who could sense the unease radiating from the biotic. “Yes… I think so… at least I hope.” She said with a heavy sigh. “Well I'll certainly do the best I can...” the doctor commented sounding slightly absentminded still rather in disbelief over the conversation she had with Shepard just minutes earlier; the hero of the alliance secretly true to the rumors, a bedwetting coward. Doing the best to banish those thoughts from her mind she welcomed in the woman, the pinnacle of genetic engineering. Miranda sounded slightly hesitant a bit forced but otherwise showed no outward emotions wearing a cryptic smile as she was often seen. It hadn't been her idea to visit the good doctor but after a private message from the Illusive man she had little choice but to pay a visit to the ship's chief medical officer. Even with her extensive genetic biomodification, long hours of combat training and her powerful abilities as a biotic she couldn't fight her nature was having trouble dealing with her stress incontinence. As with everything that happened on the Normandy the Illusive man knew of Shepards issues. Miranda's issues however were a bit more troublesome. As a high ranking Cerberus operative showing such incontinence in front of alien forces was simply unacceptable. Granted her level of incontinence hadn't been as much of a problem as Shepard’s but while Miranda was working directly for Cerberus she would play by his rules. She let out another sigh before opening her mouth to speak again. “Doctor I've been having a few issues lately with...” she now wore a slight blush at the topic she was about to bring up. “Well... with my stress incontinence during combat situations as well a bit of trouble staying dry at night”. Karin nearly let slip that she wasn't the only one aboard the Normandy having such issues. She caught herself before accidentally blurting out such an embarrassing fact and responded with a slight frown. Grabbing her notepad she beckoned the biotic to sit next to her. It was clear the raven haired beauty was taking her lack of control rather hard and the fact that the illusive man himself had reprimanded her wasn't making it easier to discuss the issue. Karin slowly began asking the questions giving ample pause for Miranda to answer each with a thorough response. “How is your diet… exercise patterns… history of stress incontinence” were just a few of the questions asked to try to get to the bottom to see if there was anything that could be done to assist the distressed woman other than just prescribing protective undergarments and trying to ignore it. She listened as Miranda went into each subject answering each question with as much honest detail as she could. The doctor could help but wish Shepard had been this communicative about her issues which from what she was hearing were far more severe than the Cerberus operative’s. After the questions had finished the doctor retrieved a small plastic cup handing it to the other woman. “Now I need a physical sample to scan for infection. Its possible that your issues are being exacerbated by a urinary tract infection but I wouldn’t count on it…” She said not wanting to inspire false hope. Miranda just nodded snatching the cup from her hand quickly retreating to the medical office’s private restroom. In the hundreds of years of possessing the power of technology capable of transporting the human race limitless distances through space they still hadn’t come up with a better method that urinating in a small cup. With a bit of effort she managed to wriggle out of her skin tight suit soon standing just in her bra. With a frown she looked down at her panties and let out a resigned sigh. They were damp with pee she hadn’t even remembered leaking, maybe her control was slipping more than she thought. Sitting on the toilet she awkwardly managed to hold the cup under herself releasing a trickle of pee that unfortunately just dripped onto her hand. Eventually she managed to get a reasonable amount into the cup and struggled to stop her stream. Quickly redressing she scrubbed her hands raw still thinking she could smell the faint acrid scent of piss on her being. Marching out of the restroom she handed the cup to Dr Chakwas and asked “Is that is Karin?”. She carefully took the cup and nodded. “Oh… one last question. Your issues have they been limited to your bladder or have you had problems soiling yourself too?” she asked still doing her best to be clinical with the woman. Miranda balked for a moment at the awkward question but knew it was best to be honest. “Well… to be completely honest since we set off on the Normandy I’ve had a few accidents like that…” she admitted not wanting to think about the times when she had to walk awkwardly back to her quarters with a lumpy discolored bulge on the rear of her suit. “Can you give me an estimation of a few? Knowing how many times you’ve had a bowel movement in your pants can help me establish a pattern. I promise you can go after that…” She said watching the woman squirm under her question. Miranda blushed profusely unable to stop herself as the questions finally became too embarrassing. “I don’t know… maybe five times I think” she managed to stammer out before waiting for approval to go. “Thank you Miranda… I should have your test results soon, I’ll make my recommendation based on what I find and the information you’ve provided today. In the interim I think it might be best if you were to make use of a disposable incontinence pad…” Miranda just blushed slowly nodding. She had thought the conversation couldn’t get any worse when she had been asked to provide an exact number of times she had shit her pants but now she was being asked to wear a pad. It could have been worse she supposed but that hardly made it better. “If that’s what you think is best I don’t have much of a choice…” she admitted with a sigh knowing that the Illusive man had told her she needed to accept any sort of judgement rendered by the medical officer. Chakwas smiled apologetically at her. “I’m sorry Miranda I really am but for the time being I think it will help you stay dry. I will have a package delivered to your quarters… I won’t keep you here any longer.” She said escorting the thoroughly embarrassed woman out. She felt bad for the biotic not wanting to humiliate her any more than she already had considering she had been so forthcoming about her own issues. Now if she could get Shepard to react the same… She felt like a recluse staying in her quarters for the rest of the flight to Omega but after her incident on the elevator she felt rather sheepish even though nobody else knew of the incident. She passed much of the time sleeping in brief stints once waking to a small bit of dampness the rest her naps rather uneventful until she finally roused herself having a bit to eat as she watched the seedy spaceport slide into view. The reason their excursion to Omega was two-fold. Not only could she meet Aria and procure more panties to replace the pairs she had disposed of but a legitimate mission objective was there to look into. Blue Sun mercenary activity in the sector had nearly tripled and it seemed they were using their hub on Omega as their forward operating base. She would visit Aria alone as she always did then reconvene at the Normandy with her team and take a small detachment out to investigate what was going on with the mercenaries. Unfortunately while a swath of construction was going on their preferred docking spot was inaccessible while various repairs and upgrades were made as part of Aria’s never ending meddling with Omega. The Normandy docked at a different slip and Shepard slowly made her way off of the ship despite the protest of her going alone. To get to afterlife from the current slip their ship was moored at she had to make her way through the scum infested lower city. A haven of small time crime and aliens with nothing left to lost. Granted it wasn’t quite so bad since she had assisted Mordin in curing the plague but it was a veritable cesspool if nothing else. Tentatively she strode off the ship swallowing the nervous feeling that seemed to be welling in her stomach at the prospect of navigating the streets by herself. A lone figure disembarked the ship after the redhead keeping some distance between the two. The various Salarians Vorcha and Turian residents eyed her hungrily as she walked through the streets but none were so bold to make a move against the redheaded human female. Even they knew the supposed folly that would come from attempting to assault the Captain Shepard. It was only a matter of time before reputation alone would not protect her. She could feel their eyes on her and could only wonder if they could sense her fear. A particularly gruesome Vorcha had growled menacingly at her which she did her best to ignore as she walked by quickly. It was only until after she had put some distance between the creature and herself that she noticed the all too familiar warmth between her legs of her panties having absorbed spilled urine. She blushed and pressed onward trying not to let her fear get the best of her she was Captain Shepard damn it! She should be better than this! She failed to notice two Turian thugs muttering to themselves motioning at the woman as she passed the pair. “Look at that human walking around like she owns the place… I bet that equipment she’s got 's worth a couple credits down at the salvage shop.” He said to his partner in crime in his gravely alien voice. “What are you crazy? I think that’s Captain Shepard that human specter…” the other replied sounding a bit more sensible. “She’s not a specter anymore and besides I heard she’s just a coward! It’s just one woman are you with me? With those credits we could get the hell of this rock!” he said convincing the other alien. “Fine fine let’s just get this over with…” he said gruffly. Following the other thug the pair slowly began to trail the oblivious hero. When she turned the next corner she let out a sigh of relief seeing the large stairs that would take her to the upper level and out of the slums. Her sense of relief was short lived as the pair of Turians rushed the woman from behind shoving her up against the wall of a dilapidated apartment complex. She cried out her eyes wide with surprise as her heavy armor cracked against the concrete façade. “W…wait no please don’t hurt me…” she managed to stammer out as her eyes began to tear up in fear. “Look we just want your equipment!” one of the Turians said brandishing his knife being a bit surprised at the famed hero’s response he gave a hesitant look at the other alien who just shrugged pulling her off the wall. She stared at the two teary eyed utterly paralyzed by fear her whole body trembling as she was shoved back against the wall of the building. Pulling out his knife he held it up to her throat it was a dull mottled grey blade that glowed ominously in the synthetic sunlight of the artificial colony. The pair was rewarded with a mewling cry of terror accompanied by a sudden dribbling hissing sound. She was forcefully wetting against the inside of her armor completely saturating her panties and fatigues she wore underneath. When setup for atmosphereless incursions the armor could be made air tight but now it was not in such a mode and warm rivulets of piss flowed from the flexible joins in the plating puddling underneath her. A vast amount of the liquid simply flowed down her legs contained within her armor filling her boots with the tepid liquid. “Uhg seriously… she’s wetting herself?! Who’s going to give us credits for armor that’s been soaked in piss!?!” the other shouted in confused frustration as she just continued to tremble held against the wall. “I… I don’t know this can’t be the real Shepard I don’t know let’s just get rid of her and forget this happened…” he said ominously. She began to squirm slightly trying to pull herself free of the Turian’s grasp. “Stay still damn it!” he growled tightening his grip. “Whoa whoa whoa wait a minute do you mean kill her?!” the other asked… The rest of their brief conversation faded as the pressing threat of death at knife point overwhelmed her mind. She slouched slightly having been fighting to keep control of her quivering bowels but no longer could she fight her fear and with a frightful moan she felt herself start to go numb. At first it came out slowly until it me the resistance of her scarlet panties. She whimpered as a foul smell passed her nose before her whole body tensed forcing the remaining contents of her bowels into her pants with a grunt. With little free space between her body and the armor plating the warm muck seemed to spread out coating her backside before starting to stain her thighs. The two had gone silent their alien sense of smell assaulted by Shepared foul release. She had really just shit herself in front of them. They just stared in disbelief before the hushed whisper of a high velocity round pierced their skulls in quick succession leaving a crimson spray on either side of the terrified woman as the aliens slumped to the ground lifelessly. She caught her breath and awkwardly stepped away from the wall feeling her soaked pants clinging to her legs and her messy load squishing against her. Drawing her pistol clumsily she held it out pointing it at the two presumed dead Turians. Her trembling hand finally began to settle as things returned to normal and one of Aria’s security officers came running up surveying the scene. Seeing Shepard standing there with her pistol drawn over the two dead thugs he could only assume she was responsible. “Thanks Shepard… those two punks had it coming to them… you can go on ahead Aria’s expecting you.” The gangly Salarian announced as he began typing into his personal computer filling out the security report. Shepard nodded slowly “Of… course um any time…” she stood awkwardly as she holstered her pistol. The black of her armor barely showed the wetness and the small pool of piss had mingled with the Turian blood disguising her accident. She opened her mouth to speak when the Salarian waved his hand fanning the air interrupting her. “Going to have to talk to Aria about getting a Maintenance crew down here to look at the sewer main.” He said commenting about the smell currently emanating from Shepard’s armor. She blushed and nervously asked about a public restroom. “I could use a spot to clean off the blood…” she said lying about the true reason she needed to visit the bathroom. She was grateful for the believable cover glad not to have to make something up on the spot. If only he knew the real reason was to clean the shit from her underwear. He just nodded and pointed towards a small alcove towards the large set of stairs. “Over there on your right, you can’t miss it…” he said paying her request no mind going back to his business. She quickly walked off a slightly bowlegged quality about her normally fluid gait. Once inside she slammed the door shut behind her and engaged the locking mechanism. She could feel the sticky sensation of her own waste staining her legs and let out a labored sigh this was going to be quite arduous. She hunched over resting her hands on the cold metal sink staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror. At least her reputation as the fearless human warrior was still more or less intact for now… the Illusive man wouldn’t have to expend more resources to protect the image of Humanity’s greatest warrior despite another of her not so little slipup. She sighed once out of her armor and the full smell of her own liquid and solid waste hit her nose. Removing her pants she was glad to see they were only slightly stained most of the feces being contained in her panties. She gave one hesitant touch reaching behind her touching the sagging bulge on the back of her panties before she started cleaning. He moved from rooftop to rooftop keeping his eye on target as she walked through the streets his rifle slung to his back the Drell comrade to Commander Shepard Easily tailed her putting his skills as a ruthless assassin to work. He had been contacted privately by the Illusive man himself who had thought him best to shadow Shepard and keep her out of trouble or keep others from discovering the trouble she got herself into. Case in point the two Turians the oblivious woman failed to notice clumsily skulking after her. Withdrawing his rifle he radioed a nearby security officer before setting up watching the scene play out through his scope. He couldn’t help but smirk watching her flail around fearfully he could tell the exact moment it happened. The exact moment she lost control of herself and vacated her bowels in fright. He could see it in her face the mixture of disgust, fear and humiliation wrapped up into one expression. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her make that face and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He thought as he effortlessly pulled the trigger saving her from further harm executing the two aliens just as the security officer started to approach. With any luck they’d both think each other responsible for removing the Turian scum from the streets. He couldn’t help but chuckle watching her awkwardly walk into the nearest restroom facility before stowing his rifle on his back knowing she would be a while. Marking down the details he grinned wryly at the situation here he was a Drell getting paid to protect the image of the galaxy’s greatest human hero who was nothing more than a figurehead to inspire the rest of them. Thirty minutes later she emerged poking her head out of the door. The scene had been completely taken care of, the bodies gone, bloody stains scrubbed clean and there was no trace a conflict had even occurred. Taking a deep breath she strode out of the bathroom her face once again wearing a mask of callous calm as she made her way up the stairs towards the main area of afterlife. Thane simply watched her go from a distance. He knew from there on Aria wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she was too valuable an ally. Her last visit to afterlife could have gone better amid the thrumming tones and flowing alcohol she had managed to find herself in a fight with a very large and angry Krogan. Before the bouncers could come in and stop the scuffle she had flooded herself leaving a small puddle of pee on the floor of the bar much to Aria’s amusement. Slowly she made her way inside nodding at one of the guards she recognized. She let the pulsing electronic music wash over her as she stepped up to the bar for a little bit of liquid courage. “A Turian red… and make sure it doesn’t kill me.” She said with a charismatic grin. The bartender just nodded letting out a chuckle. “You got it miss.” He said quickly preparing her a glass of the potent drink. She squirmed slightly whilst waiting for her drink able to feel the faint dampness as her underclothes hadn’t entirely dried. Gulping down the liquid she could feel the alcohol dull her senses as she set the glass down with a clink against the utilitarian bartop. With a deep breath and the stiff drink coursing through her she did her best to forget about the thugs she had run into earlier and made her way to the back of the club to meet with Aria. Meeting with the pirate queen was always a struggle for the proud woman. It was a battle of wits and bluffs in which she was doomed to fail as Aria held the trump card. One of the few keenly aware of her humiliating secret Aria quite enjoyed making the captain squirm watching the lithe human female’s face turn a shade similar to her hair never grew tiresome. “Good evening Shepard to what do I owe the pleasure..” Aria said setting down the datapad she had been typing away one before dismissing her guards. Shepard waited for the two to leave them in Aria’s private booth before returning the Asarii’s cordial greeting. “There’s no need to play ignorant Aria… you knew I was coming and what I was coming for.” Shepard said cutting straight to the point. Her brash attitude brought a slight smile to the tight lipped Asarii who spoke with thinly veiled arrogance. “Ahh yes, straight to the point as ever. More of the special panties tailored for your exact measurements.” The pirate queen said with a smirk to which Shepard could only blush. “These aren’t cheap you know, I’m doing you quite a large favor procuring these for you. I take It by your request you’ve been staying… less than dry.” She teased keeping the same tight lipped smirk as Shepard glowed with embarrassment. “You know that’s none of your business Aria!” Shepard fired back crossing her arms over her chest defiantly knowing it was true. The human’s act of defiance seemed to irritate the blue skinned woman who’s expression shifted to one of anger. “None of my business? For what I know about you Shepard I could have you dancing downstairs in one of Afterlife’s private rooms wearing nothing but a pissy sodden diaper with your tits hanging out!” she hissed back at the dumbstruck captain. “Now…” her demeanor changed back to a pleasant if not predatory grin as she continued. “Remove your armor, I wish to see the pair you are currently wearing. After the curt tongue lashing she had received from the Asarii she didn’t really want to protest but she couldn’t help but balk at the request when anyone on the balconies could see down into her private booth. Sensing her unease seeing her eyes flicker and dart around over her head out to the rest of Afterlife Aria tapped a button on her datapad darkening the area around the pair sealing them off from the rest of the club. “There Shepard, now it’s just us and I believe you were showing me something.” She said leaning back expectantly her eyes glued on the woman. With a sigh she slowly began undoing her armor for the second time that day going through the steps until she stood in just the normal clothing she wore under; the still vaguely damp pair of form fitting pants and a light fitting tee shirt. Biting her lip she wriggled out of her pants shortly after much to the amusement of the Asarii pirate queen. “There… satisfied Aria?” she asked knowing the answer as the alien slowly got to her feet slinking around her like a lioness stalks her prey. She tried to stand with a defiant expression on her face but her proud pretense crumbled at Aria’s next comment. “Why are these damp Shepard?” she asked taking the fabric between her finger rubbing it gently as she tugged the material away from the smooth skin of her ass. She paled thinking of her earlier accident and when she opened her mouth to blurt out an excuse Aria had already began speaking again interrupting her. “Tsk tsk tsk Shepard these are rather stained. You do know these aren’t for containing bowel movements…” she said teasingly. “You had another accident didn’t you did those two Turian thugs scare you dear?” she asked hitting the nail on the head. “I read the security report the responding officer praised you for ridding the slums of those two but I’m not so sure you could have done it while cowering in your own filth worrying if they could smell your fear… anywayyy I think you need something a bit more protective than just training panties.” She said with a smirk letting go of the fabric snapping it against her skin. Shepard was flushed at this point utterly humiliated by the Asarii her voice sounding small timid. “I… I don’t and they’re not training panties!” she protested. Even saying the phrase training panties made her shudder averting her gaze from the other woman. “Please Shepard, they are panties for soaking up your piss when a leaky little girl like yourself gets scared and piddles in her pants and as for what you need it would seem even your chief medical officer agrees with me.” She said with a smirk handing the humiliated human her datapad revealing a requisition for various adult incontinence wear signed for by a Dr Karin Chakwas. Shepard looked over the order her eyes wide as she realized the doctors intent to move her into diapers. “There seems to be an awful lot of supplies listed though, maybe you’re not the only one having an issue with staying dry.” She postulated with a snicker. “Maybe your resident tough girl Jack isn’t quite as tough as she thought… or maybe it’s your little biological marvel the perfect woman’s not so perfect or maybe even Samara… being a justicar is a rather stressful position who knows the toll it takes… but the obvious answer is you Shepard… she has procured YOU diapers because Cerberus can no longer afford to run the risk of humanities greatest hero being found out she’s actually humanities biggest coward.” She took a deep breath before sitting back down. “You may dress.” She said allowing her to cover up her stained panties. “I will have a shipment of clean panties sent to your ship just as you requested, try not to ruin them this time… I would also like to know who on your ship is having issues. If I had to guess there’s at least one more judging by the varying sizes ordered.” She asked giving Shepard a command rather than a request. “I… I’ll see what I can find out.” She muttered quietly as she sealed her armor once again feeling safely hidden under layers of armored plating. “Now that… that’s out of the way…” Shepard began, her blush slowly fading as the heat left her cheeks. “I didn’t just come for that reason I also came to check out the…” “The blue sun mercenary activity? Yes I know” Aria said sounding slightly annoyed that Shepard seemed to think she didn’t know every major operation going on Omega. “An alliance marine squad’s beat you to them though. They’ve been engaged in a heavy firefight for all of an hour now.” She said idly as if she expected Shepard to already know this. She tapped another button on her datapad before turning back to Shepard. “They could probably use your help, who knows how much more supplies they have before they’re overrun.” She said with callous disregard for the human squad. “I’ll give you the coordinates and how to get their through the sewers. You can leave through afterlife’s private floor, it’s closer to the maintenance shaft access. I know you want to help them, just try to keep your pants clean although your little marine friends probably have very little room to talk. Have fun Shepard.” She said with a wicked smile and a wave signaling their conversation was over. A door opened behind the room different than the one she had entered through. Quickly she made her way through the door and trekked through the lower private levels of afterlife Aria’s words about making her a performer there echoing in her head. Once again she emerged into the seething underside of Omega and with her pistol drawn she made her way towards the access hatch. After what happened earlier she wasn’t going to give some thug the chance to sneak up on her. Radioing the ship she cleared her throat before giving a swift order. “Garrus, take Jack and Miranda to these coordinates and make some noise to distract the Blue Sun’s. Shoot em, blow em up I don’t really care I just need their attention taken off of their current target so I can get them out of there.” She said gruffly before shutting off the link sending them the coordinates of the mercenary camp. Her shadowy protector frowned as she suddenly burst onto the coms announcing her plans. He was still waiting for her expected return and wasn’t entirely sure he could reach a good vantage point before she potentially did something foolish. With a sigh he packed up his rifle and quickly gave chase. Ducking into the hatch she followed the readout on her visor trying to ignore the nauseating smell of the sewers. The inky darkness of the poorly lit tunnels wasn’t helping her confidence. She was jumpy enough as it was without the shadows preying on the corners of her vision seeming to move just out of sight when she gasped and leveled her pistol at nothing. She could feel the nervousness bubbling in her like a spring of uncontrollable emotion. She had never liked the dark especially since she had died. Her last memories of the original Normandy before the cold void of space claimed her were sudden brilliant explosions and then near darkness only the glittering of stars in the distance. Many things had changed that day and a lasting fear of the dark impressed into her mind was only one. Fortunately it wasn’t that far of a trek but one that again would not be without incident. A sudden screech and fluttering of wings as one of the alien creatures that resembled a bat let go of its perch lunging at her. She shrieked in surprise shutting her eyes tightly firing her pistol wildly. Her shots missed by a wide margin with her eyes closed but it was enough to scare the creature off. She could feel her heart racing in her chest her breath shallow and her nerves feeling alive from the rush of adrenaline and fear. Then of course she felt the warm dampness between her thighs. She blushed in the dusk of the sewers and squirmed slightly cursing herself. “but I didn’t even feel it… I guess I shouldn’t of had that drink. Goes through me every time.” She muttered before pressing onwards now with the irritating feeling of sodden panties clinging to her tender skin. She broke into a jog wanting to get out of the tunnels quickly and soon enough she had reached her destination. As she climbed the ladder to freedom she could hear the muffled sound of small and heavy arms fire and cursed aloud before shoving the access hatch aside. She peeked out seeing an open courtyard with a dilapidated apartment complex surrounding it on all sides. Through a wide entryway she could see a large contingent of blue sun mercenary’s firing towards one of the upper floors. Hoping their attention was held by the marines she pulled herself out of the narrow access port and ran for cover. Muttering a short thanks she exhaled at the fact they hadn’t opened fire on her as she dashed to safety. Now she just had to find them knowing it would only be a matter of time before the small squad would be overrun by their superior numbers and firepower. She ran quickly choosing the second floor of three and making her way towards the front most rooms where judging by the mercenaries gunfire she could find them. The corridors were empty and general silence save for the constant bursts of arms fire permeated the building. Arriving at a room she heard hushed talking along with the sound of rifle shots. With her rifle out but not at attention she grunted kicking open the door to the room. One of the marines inside let out a surprised yelp raising her rifle to face the sudden intruder. A look of realization overcame all of the soldiers and they all saluted before relaxing lowering their weapons. A gruff voice spoke up “Damn it I thought I told you I wanted motion trackers in the hallway and here we have captain shepard herself barging in undetected!” a short raven haired soldier spoke to the surprised woman who was closest to the door. She gave a sheepish apology and looked down at the screen mounted on her wrist tryping furiously. Shepard wrinkled her nose as she entered the room shutting the door behind her. I smelled like at least one of the squad had a rather bad accident in their standard issue protection. She couldn’t help but let a hypocritical smirk creep into her lips as the squad captain approached her. She could see the woman had forgone mandatory protection as some of the more confident or arrogant ones did. Consequently when she had been the first of her squad to lose control when ambushed by the Blue Suns it was painfully obvious. Her combat fatigues were darkened by urine the inner sides of both legs still looking rather wet and judging by the foul smell as she approached the rear of her pants would be just as stained. She blushed profusely being caught by the fabled Commander Shepard after having used her panties as a toilet “I don’t know how you got past the Blue suns but they’ve pushed us back into this complex and we’re running low on heat clips. I don’t know how much longer we can hold out… damn glad to see you showed up though, Captain Suun of the widowmakers 152nd” the soldier said as she turned to lead Shepard cautiously to peek out over the balcony. As she had thought her pants sagged showing a rather sizable bulge of shit contained within. Discretely she tugged at the soiled fabric of her pants trying to squirm in a more comfortable position a difficult prospect when she’d completely messed herself. “Widowmakers…” Shepard mused seeing the angular insignia of a black widow spider on their armor. The wall behind the balcony was crumbling, riddled with holes from the blue suns fire. She peaked around the wall before withdrawing cursing aloud. “I think there’s even more of them hey hotshot I thought you were picking them off!” she growled to the woman laying on the kitchen counter across the room looking through the scope her rifle out the empty frame of a small window. In her position her shirt had ridden up slightly exposing the waistband of the protective disposable standard issue undergarment she was wearing beneath her armored pants. “I’m working on it captain but they keep bringing in reinforcements and they have a lot of cover!” she protested defensively. Shepard opened her mouth to speak when from the snipers spot she heard a shriek of surprise as she dove off the counter before a rocket slammed into the wall she had been shooting through. Shepard and the captain crouched down in surprise instinctively shielding themselves from the blast. The redhead could feel a small trickle of pee dampen her panties absorbed by the special material as the room shuddered from the explosion. The marksman wasn’t so fortunate with her control as staring through the scope she saw the rocket flying straight at her position. Her bladder let go the moment she saw the high energy projectile hurtling towards her spot. A sudden flood of warmth filled her incontinence garment. The gel-like material that functioned as the absorbent core swelled inside her combat trousers before the thinness of the garment failed and piss began to puddle under her hips and stomach soaking into her clothes. As she dove off the counter she curled into a defensive ball her bowels emptying in terror as the explosion tore apart where she had just been. The seat of her diaper quickly expanded to accommodate her frightful release as she helplessly filled her garment. From her position curled on her side she could feel some of the semi-solid feces slide past the cuff squished out into the leg of her pants. Once the dust settled the captain turned back to Shepard starting to look a bit panicked. “I hope you have a plan to get the hell out of here…” she said before another explosion rang out. This time it sounded as if if had come from the mercenary camp. She just grinned and nodded “That would be my team and our ticket out of here.” She said motioning for the marine to peak out the open balcony again. What she saw was a godsend; chaos had broken out in the ranks of the Blue Suns, they were firing away from the building. “I’m assuming you’ve got a way out of here then.” Once again Shepard nodded “I came in through the sewers there will be no mercs in there but the entrance is in the middle of the courtyard so we had to wait for a distraction. I suggest we move quickly.” “Ok, we’re getting the hell out of here.” The raven haired captain barked at her squad. The blond marksmen was on her feet looking a bit shaken and standing in a rather awkward position but otherwise no worse for wear. They grabbed their equipment and checked their weapons before heading towards the door anxious to leave the cramped room that reeked of their own waste. As they approached the door it flew open catching them all off-guard as a Blue Sun’s infiltrator lunged through the open space. Shepard gasped in surprise as she clumsily reached for her sidearm. She felt a sudden jet of urine escape from between her legs into her already wet panties. The absorbent fabric could soak up no more and she felt a single trickle starting to make its way for her leg. She blushed slightly and judging by the shocked faces of the other soldiers she wasn’t the only one to experience a loss of control. The brunette who had approached the door and failed to get the motion sensors running was experiencing a complete loss of bladder control as hot urine flooded her diaper. In a flash the still peeing soldier was in his grasp a large knife pressed against her throat. He spun her around to face the squad keeping her arms pinned behind her back. Her face was a mixture of fear and shame as the warmth of her pee surrounded her waist before overflowing the padding. Two small crescents of wetness began to form on her thighs where the garment leaked through the leg cuffs and she let out a terrified whimper. The knife pressed firmly against her throat was too much and her quivering body vacated her bowels in utter fright. “N…no please don’t kill me” she managed to stammer before unconsciously letting out a quiet grunt as she finished defecating in her pants. The foul smell in the room intensified around her and her assailant sneered wrinkling his nose. “Did someone have an accident.” He chortled using the soldier as a shield as the other’s raised their weapons at him. He reached down giving a firm grope feeling the soft lump underneath the sodden padding and smirked as he yanked down his knife in one motion cutting open the front of her pants. Her fatigues slid down to her knees revealing a standard issue alliance military incontinence garment in dire need of being changed. The once plain white garment pulled on for ease of use and was fairly thin for the sensitive issue of discretion but in this scenario provided to be inadequate for the soldier’s fear response. The dull white material had a faint yellow hue that seemed to encompass the front and the rear sagged heavily discolored by her solid waste. “Drop your weapons or the toddler here is going to learn what else a blade can do.” He said with an icy drawl as the blade returned to her throat. She shuddered feeling the steel of the blade and managed to find her voice to spit a retort. “Fuck you… I’m not a toddler!” she said mustering as much defiance and venom to her voice that she could manage while wearing a padded garment she had clearly made use of. “Really?” he asked with a bemused tone. “Does a big girl poop her diaper?” he asked gripping the waistband of her pullup and tugging it upwards forcing the soldier to feeling her own feces squished against her skin. She shuddered shutting her eyes and shook her head slowly as the other women in the room all blushed knowing any one of them could be in the same situation. “Answer the question!” he barked pressing the knife against her neck drawing a trickle of blood. She yelped and shook her head. “N…no” she said trembling with fear. “No what.” He asked authoritatively not letting her get off easy. She just hung her head and spoke quietly as tears started to drip down her cheeks. “no a big girl doesn’t poop her diaper…” she said in humiliation. “Good…” he began with a smirk before the other brunette had enough and interrupted him “Enough fucking pervert let her go!” she said taking a step forward challenging him her rifle never leaving its ready position. Shoving the soiled soldier forward a flurry of motion broke out and chaos engulfed the room. The two brunette’s collided with a surprised yelp. Her avenger rifle discharged firing at the heavy weapon’s expert who dove for cover as the squad captain balked trying to make sense of the situation and the weaponless sniper cowered behind her. It was only a matter of seconds but everyone seemed to act in slow motion as he lunged after the second brunette currently tangled with her squadmate crashing to the ground. The short burst of energy from the M8 rifle nearly struck the heavy weapons expert. She managed to clumsily dive out of the way but her evasion tactics weren’t entirely successful. Searing pain radiated through her body as the blast of friendly fire grazed her leg. The muscular woman hit the ground barely aware her parasympathetic nervous system had triggered an extreme fight or flight response and her body reacted by completely voiding both bowels and bladder into her incontinence garment. Her fearful expulsion was rather sudden and by the time she hit the ground her bowels were empty but the seat of her brief was very full and warm trickles of piss leaked out soaking into her pants. He flew at the downed brunettes like a wraith knife in hand. She stared at him wide eyed holding one hand out as a pitiful defense trying to shove her teammate away with the other. The point of the knife was driving straight towards her and she let out a squeal of terror as she began soaking herself. Her large bladder easily soaked through her disposable garment as liquid flowed from the joins of her thighs and puddled under her leaving her a sopping wet mess. Unfortunately she’d been having a bit of trouble with her stomach recently so when the marine began vacating her bowels the watery mush expelled into her pants was not easily contained. It squished everywhere filling every crevice rising up towards her lower back threatening to spill over the top of her waistband of her diaper. During her uncontrollable evacuation she was saw as he was about to strike a sudden burst of light, the discharge of a weapon and then silence. His body lifelessly fell to the ground and his knife clattered harmlessly away. The threat was neutralized and on the other side of the trigger a nervous Shepard having reacted when she finally had a clear shot. The squad captain seemed to come to first albeit still sounding rather shaky. “move out all of you, get up now!” she barked at them walking awkwardly to the door checking the hallway to ensure he had acted alone. Shepard slowly made her way out of the room following the captain distinctly aware of the wetness between her legs. She had leaked a bit more during the fight. Cursing her weakness she composed herself just glad her heavy armor showed nothing compared to the elite squad’s outfits. They slowly filed out of the room much to the ire of their captain. “Disgraceful, I may have shit myself but unlike you toddlers this is the first time all week.” She said with disgust jamming the butt of her rifle against the sniper’s sagging pants as the departed down the hall eliciting a yelp of disgust and a foul squish. Shepard quickly took the lead for reasons more than knowing where the entrance hatch was. The primary reason was to get ahead of the soiled squad-women and their foul smell that seemed to surround them. Being in front was little reprieve but at least it provided some relief from the stench. Arriving in the courtyard she kept against the wall and walked until she could peek around the opening. Her squad had come through and the fortified position was all but abandoned to go deal with the sudden assault. “Go, now!” she yelled back at them pointing at the access hatch she’d left open. The five women ran some more awkward than others all quickly making her way down the ladder with Shepard coming down after sealing the hatch behind her.
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