Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'farting'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome!
    • Welcome to OmoOrg!
    • Introductions
    • Feedback
  • Omorashi / Peeing
    • Omorashi general
    • Omorashi & peeing experiences
    • Omorashi & peeing artwork
    • Omorashi & peeing fiction
    • Omorashi & peeing videos
  • Omutsu / AB(DL)
    • Omutsu general
    • Diapered & ABDL experiences
    • Diapered & ABDL artwork
    • Diapered & ABDL fiction
    • Diapered & ABDL videos
  • General
    • Off-topic discussion
    • Forum games
    • Roleplaying realm

Categories

  • Shizuku's Comic
  • Premium Content
    • Nappy Boarding House
    • WesternWets Comics
    • OJHI JAV Series
    • LittleLadyLumi
    • Biku Comics
    • AliceWetting
    • Ripandbustys
  • JAV Collections
  • Wetting Videos
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • AB/DL Wetting Videos
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • Other Videos
    • Female AB/DL Messing
    • Male AB/DL Messing
    • Other AB/DL Messing
    • Other Messing
  • Doujinshi, Eroge and Hentai
    • Anime / Hentai
    • Doujinshi Archives
    • Artwork and CG Sets
    • Visual Novels
    • RPGs

Blogs

  • The Wet Hostage
  • I’m a real wild child
  • Suguha's Struggle
  • Unlucky Star - A Lucky Star Fan Fiction
  • The Winter Carnaval
  • Higashi High's Special Student
  • Fairy Tail - Juvia's First Pee
  • _____ _______'s Mixup Editting
  • The Lunambra Anthology
  • Captainjoker1's Story
  • Steven Universe - The Wetting of the Gems
  • Accident (a7x fanfiction)
  • A Zorua, a Fennekin, and omorashi
  • Arbor Gold
  • A Valentine's Day Short Story
  • Emily and Anna's Valentine's Day
  • Cho Chang in a Diaper
  • My Stories! :)
  • Random Zelda Fictions
  • Robin's Issue
  • Boys' Night In
  • Longstocking's Story
  • The Needs of the Many
  • Beyond Desperation
  • The Little Wet Vampire
  • way of the ruin
  • WaityKaty's Story
  • Not Quite As Planned
  • And It's All Your Fault Anyway
  • Silver Linings
  • Stuck together
  • Julia's Story
  • The Battle Of Bad Timing (The Battle Of Xandra)
  • The Queen
  • How my diaper wearing started
  • My first diaper date,..many chapters
  • Matilda Marie
  • [Female] Fairy Tail Fanfiction
  • Justice's Poem(s?)
  • Keiko's Plight
  • The Exam
  • The Bad Omen
  • My first story
  • The Emerald Forest
  • The Great Wet Conference
  • HS: Last Quarter
  • Saiyica's misfortune
  • Just Let it Out (pt 1)
  • Helpless and Desperate
  • The Silent Heroine
  • Hiccup's accident
  • The compartment
  • Justice's Short Stories
  • The Dare Game
  • Jayne
  • Rush Hour
  • Persona 4: Accidents Galore!
  • Tanya
  • Never a Bathroom in RPGs
  • 4 10 12
  • Echoes of the past
  • The essex Girls - Wonna Go to Lakeside
  • The Graduate's Flame
  • detention in diapers
  • Little Contest
  • Occupied
  • Alicia the Alchemist
  • Older sister wears diapers
  • To Boldly Pee: The Omorashi Chronicles
  • Guildless (a ravnica magic the gathering fanfiction.)
  • _____ _______'s Mixup
  • Kidnapped
  • Batman and Robin
  • Emily's Diary
  • Life is great
  • Birthday Fantasy
  • Community Service
  • I Bet You Can't
  • No Say in the Matter
  • The Wet Dilemma of AppleJack
  • Katie and Daniel
  • The Mushroom
  • Female Desperation Stories I Have Witnessed
  • Lucy's Wet Fiction Collection
  • Emily's Christmas Adventure
  • OmoOrg News and Updates
  • The Tale of a Sorceress
  • The Moocommunity
  • Valuable Cling Film [Saran Wrap for US readers]
  • Miaball
  • Kirby’s Omo-Love Lesson
  • Golden Time Lover
  • Kurt Omorashi
  • Even Heroes Falter
  • Poke omo fic
  • When You Gotta Go-La in Alola
  • Unexpected abduction
  • Fire Emblem: Golden Bonds
  • Pdpatti's Story
  • Ahlbi and Rayfa: Ace Holders
  • My Life as a Teenage Bedwetter
  • When a Dragon Can't Hold
  • Learned a New Skill: Relief
  • Samus The Padded Bounty Hunter
  • Video Game One-Shots
  • Lillica Quest
  • Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid One-Shots
  • The One With the Wet Rumors
  • High School Holding
  • Pushing Their Limits (My Hero Academia)
  • Peenoblade Chronicles 2
  • The Desperation Visor
  • Hehe's Story
  • Stream of Kindness
  • Pee Tee's Story
  • Omo High
  • Bladder Meter
  • The College Trip
  • Unconventionally Sensual (Working Title)
  • Emma X Otacon
  • Wanwan to Kurasu - A Wanko to Kurasou inspired series
  • Saves
  • Peesona 5
  • Ai No Exorcist Omorashi
  • nena the high school dipper user
  • Riveting Rivulets (A FanFic Collection)
  • Other Stories
  • The Bee and Barb
  • Living in a Harem
  • Dark Souls Collection
  • Taking Over the Family Business
  • BBCode Tests
  • Liberty's wetting shorts
  • Four Day Struggle
  • Blade Of Vengeance
  • Summer Blossoms
  • Elevator Desperation
  • Why some story characters never pee (no wetting, desperation, safe for work essentially)
  • Miku at School
  • Brotaku and the Omo adventures
  • Messing Contest
  • Holding right now...
  • REVENGE Part 3 [Daniel]
  • Ms. Anderson's Plight
  • Allison’s Work Dilemma
  • Little Punk Girl's Kinky Shenanigans
  • Amy's Saga
  • Desperate girls bathroom line at school.
  • Divine Intervention Gone Wrong
  • Just a Journal [male]
  • The Bizarre World of Cartridge: Omorashi Experiences
  • Five Nights of Holding
  • kitchen desperation
  • Quick intro
  • The Legacy of Gold Universe
  • The Wild Tempest
  • my first wetting/bedwetting
  • Male Desperation
  • Pemberley Afternoon
  • Rising Star
  • Sonador's Furry Fictions
  • Road Trip
  • Searching for a video
  • Desperation
  • Pee Diary
  • Accidents happen
  • The Trials and Tribulations of an Omo Noob
  • SISTERHOOD OF BLOOD
  • Omorashi Short Stories
  • Pee Adventurer
  • A Striptease Like No Other
  • Lizzy
  • Golden Machinations
  • Soul Eater Omo
  • Adventures in pee holding
  • Exam-time desperation
  • Johnah
  • Symmetry is Everything
  • KidIntheDark's Story
  • Pix Holding :3
  • Terezi's Secret
  • Shopping for Diapers
  • Levi & Alex
  • Sarah, Elliot's Slave for a Week
  • True revenge
  • Try something new
  • Technical Help Blog
  • Matt and Koko Omorashi
  • The Azur Lane Omorashi And Other Urine Based Sexual Activities Association
  • Desperate ride...
  • Desperate
  • Meeting at the Point
  • Drafts
  • Appointments
  • How to order from Jade Net
  • Status blog
  • Alice the beginning Ch. 1
  • darker then black yin's desperate ride
  • Unintentional Invocation
  • Online Class Desperation
  • Megan and Sarah, Emotional Rollercoaster
  • Shiver
  • Mandymom’s collection of Darkwing Duck omorashi
  • Kiplington School for Girls
  • Stonky stories
  • Katie Has A Very Public Accident in a Bar
  • Not so suttle hint
  • Kaneki Has an accident
  • Snek Writes Stuff
  • Age of Ultron: Omorashi (SPOILERS)
  • The Witches Wet
  • Omovember 2020
  • Kelli's in the Corner
  • Ebisu-Sensei Vs. The Sexy No Jutsu
  • Omorashi Jones
  • Newsnight
  • Jane's Aching Bladder
  • Wetting Games 1 - Sonic Adventure 2: Wetting
  • Pee test
  • Yomiel`s Night of Desparation
  • Omorashi stories
  • Female Daily Dare
  • Moving in (With Sophia)
  • Rita's Training Blog
  • Jordan
  • My bladder chronicles
  • Commander Lyra
  • The big Magic: the Peeing project
  • On that Christmas Night
  • First Peeing Experiance
  • Ending up in a "Wet Suit"
  • The Test Subject
  • a
  • Sex and the Sea
  • My 1st omo fanfic! (Pokemon)
  • O Wonderland (RPG Game)
  • Girls weekend out
  • Our Lady of Pee
  • Puddling in my Pants
  • camping
  • Omovember 2021
  • Johnny & Pablo (Non-Canonical)
  • Skyrim: Distortion
  • An Interruption
  • Harvest Moon
  • Do your kinks ever harm your self-esteem?
  • Holiday Specials
  • RpeeG
  • DragonFruit11117
  • Of Cupboards and Dreams
  • Afternoon in the Chokee
  • The DP Game
  • Hard Boiled Legs
  • Unnecessary Functions
  • Peculiar Endurance Event
  • story of my life
  • Have you Weed yet?
  • Thesis
  • Milovana Webtease review - Rapid Pee Desperation
  • Maddy
  • Emotions, Tonight, and Tomorrow
  • Holding experiences and challenges
  • Space Wetters (The Story of Aurora Stardust)
  • Assorted 'wings stories
  • PeeCember 2022
  • public speech
  • Goldenstorm's Story
  • Vaine Chronicles - Goddess of Death
  • My experiences with this fetish......
  • Searching for Friends!
  • FemScout's Desperate Run!!!
  • Chatbot characters
  • Sam's Graduation
  • Karkat Vantas: I need to go!
  • Diapered & Desperate
  • The Yellow Sisters
  • Henry(fill in later)
  • Bonus Material
  • The Juniper Triplets
  • Shawnie's Soggy Sunday Mornings
  • Doraemon Omorashi thing
  • Plush Empire Primitive Life Observations Files (Possible title change)
  • Hana and Kimiko
  • Wettie's Wet Log
  • Jenny and her friend Sara
  • Screencaps
  • steph226's Story
  • Miyu's Regression
  • SAO messing fanfic
  • 'The Juniper Triplets' Side Stories
  • What He Never Noticed
  • Diapered Housepets! : Grape
  • Erin's Wet Ride
  • a date with Mario
  • FNaF messing fic
  • The Retriever
  • Misused Authority
  • LLTQ Beginnings
  • A Rōnin's tale
  • Discipline in the Dorm
  • Pan's Personal Purgatory
  • Nightclub drugs raid causes MASSES of desperation
  • Knuckles's predicament
  • Naughty Kitty
  • Fairy Tail Omorashi
  • A Town to Forget
  • diapered walk
  • Endless Desire
  • Samantha's Life
  • honeybell3's Story
  • Beth and Him
  • Nah's bad day
  • Strider's property
  • school desperation
  • The First Time
  • Brotherly problems
  • Matthew and me
  • It's Just Business, Honest
  • "So what is it Doctor?"
  • Uri Nova
  • War and Wet
  • Carlsbad Caverns
  • Taylor And Me (The Long And Short Of It)
  • the car
  • Holding Back
  • Sakura's Mistaken Identity
  • The Stable Girl
  • Junie & Thena: The Wet Age of the Law
  • Pain's Story
  • When Serena Met Dawn
  • coffee troubles
  • Bad Idea
  • fizzypop's Story
  • The Mishap of Taylor Swift
  • League of Desperation
  • Granting me a wish
  • JLIO RE-WRITE
  • Perfect
  • Coach Desperation
  • The World of Edren
  • adevore155675's Story
  • Hunger Games Pee Desperation
  • The Sphere
  • Maddy and Haley
  • Stuck...
  • Everyday Life With a Fetishist
  • Elsa's little problem
  • Forced wetting
  • Elsa's emergency
  • A change of underwear
  • The Sphere: Dog for the Day
  • Summer Camp
  • April And Diapers
  • The Patient
  • How Do I End Up In These Situations?!
  • Trouble with Yui
  • First Holding Session!!
  • hidden feelings and curiosities
  • Love Grows
  • Suburban Wasteland
  • To Lunambra: A Medieval Watersports Tale
  • Severa's bad day
  • The War
  • On a Bus
  • A Desperate Detention You'll Never Forget
  • Meet the 13 Squads
  • omodarling's Story
  • Desperate Camping
  • Emily's Anniversary of an Accident
  • 3 litres...
  • Asuna's Journey Backwards
  • The Cinemas

Product Groups

  • Premium Subscriptions
  • Advertising

Categories

  • Gender
  • Wetting amounts
  • Clothing
  • Omorashi themes
  • Content warnings

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


FurAffinity


Twitter


Website URL


My pronouns are..


I'm into..

  1. Chapter I: The Brown Scourge It had been a whole day, and finally, the moment you were dreading had finally come. You stare at the object, taking it in with an unexplainable, irrational fear. A small wooden box, almost immaculate in design, atop it was a small circular hole and beside it a rack with a roll of white paper dangling down. You looked on, taking in the sight as if it was too distant from you. Putting a hand on your belly, you look down into the white porcelain of the sink and sigh. The toilet. You were looking at the toilet. Though to divert any suspicion you were gazing through the reflection of the mirror over the sink. Why was it when the time came for you to make your first “drop” you were so shy? Right now, you felt fear slithering through your whole body, keeping you planted to the ground. Any thought of moving closer to the toilet gave you a surge of uncertainty that left you returning to admiring it through the mirror. This wasn’t the first time this problem had plagued you. Down south, you had this issue too. Though that had ended worse than you could’ve imagined. Too scared to void your bowels in the privy of the tavern you were staying in, you’d ignored your need and gone about doing your work during the day… until you were struck by a rather impatient snake rearing it’s sloppy head from between your cheeks. It hadn’t ended well, and even now your cheeks are set aflame at the thought of you squatting down in those bushes, straining and uncoiling a brown squidgy log onto the dirt beneath you. There is a pain in your stomach like a swift kick. Your guts tighten up and the pain rushes down south. Something hard and murky starts pushing against your rear, giving you a brief but blunt warning of what would soon happen if you stayed here. Grimacing, you wrap your hand around your stomach. “Uhh… “I ate too much…” You say regretfully, thinking of all that food you had shoveled down in the dining hall. A little bit of everything, some mash, battered puddings, stew, meat, and all washed down with piping mug of tea. As you clench your stomach tighter, feeling your knot quiver under the weight pushing down from your gut, you regret it, every bite of it. “I can’t just stand here.” You say to yourself. “It’s fine.” You take a deep breath and stand up straight. “I’m going to have to do it sometime.” Mustering your courage, you turn around and face the toilet, the object of desire… and fear. “It’s fine. I just need to do it quick and nobody will know.” You take your first step forward, preparing to make a dash into the privy, hands poised at the front of your shorts ready to unbutton them the second the privy door slams closed. You take another confident step forward when the lavatory door creaks open behind you. “Eep!” Like a scared mouse, you turn away from the privy and retreat. You face the mirror again and pretend to fix your hair, brushing aside your bangs and sweeping your green locks. Hopefully they would just ignore you, do their business quickly and leave. Out the corner of the mirror, you spy a smiling face. “Morning, Shibo.” “Gah!” You spin around, caught off guard like you’d been ambushed by a giant spider and nearly trip over. You grab the sink to steady yourself and glance up. It’s Ledley with her long brown hair brushed and swept behind her shoulders. Under her arm she’s carrying a book. “Ledley!” You say, surprised, you clamber to straighten up and push your hands behind your back. “W-What are you doing here?” She looks at you, tilting her head. “This is the privy, right? What do you think I’m here to do?” She pats her belly softly. Out of the corner of the mirror, you watch Ledley as she struts into a privy. As the door creaks closed, you are taunted by her as she undoes her trousers. From in the stall you hear Ledley humming a song, followed by a soft sigh accompanied by a creak of wood. “Uggh…” You whimper, grasping your stomach. If you hadn’t spent all that time oogling the privy and instead just used it, you could’ve avoided this. But now Ledley was here, and as usual your nerves were getting the better of you. Brushing aside your fringe, you look into the mirror sternly. This was something you’d have to get used to, there was no shame in it. What did it matter? Ledley was right beside you doing the same thing without any shame. You clench your fist and look behind at you, at the wooden privy waiting. What do you wish to do? >Use the privy >Hold it until Ledley leaves
  2. I'm glad I was able to find all the documents for this. This is for the first chapter of the Guild Apprentice, an interactive I ran for ended recently. This version is a rewrite of the original interactive with some parts touched up because the early chapters didn't really age well. To the people who read the original interactive I hope you enjoy this, and I hope anybody new will enjoy this. Here is a link to GA: Part 2 which is currently ongoing: https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/51233-the-guild-apprentice-part-2/?page=2 This will be getting updated every few days. Part I You are roused from a peaceful sleep by the sound of squeaking wheels and trotting horses. You awaken in your carriage with your face nestled in a silk cushion. “Uuu…” You sit up, waiting for the mugginess of a rude awakening to fade. “I must’ve nodded off before we’d left town.” You think, rubbing your eyes. It’s not surprising, you’d barely slept a wink last night, the excitement of today, as well as a somewhat lumpy tavern mattress had kept you awake for most of the night. The last thing you remember is hoisting your rucksack aboard the carriage and the loud rumble of the town gate. You must’ve nodded off before you were even out the gate. Inching yourself toward the carriage window, you peer out to get a look at your surroundings. The sun is high, peeking over the tall oak trees along the trail. It must be late morning by now; you’ve slept the entire journey. As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you look around your carriage; it’s a basic oak compartment. Easy on the eyes and even easier on your purse. A small space with two sets of seats dressed up in red cloth, a small cast iron lantern bolted to the ceiling, and a large curtain the runs the length of the whole compartment. Beneath your seat is a small nook to store your belongings, but for the journey you felt comfortable keeping your rucksack by your side. In your weary-eyed state, you had forgotten to close the curtains before nodding off. Sunlight shimmers in through the windows, basking the carriage in a warm welcoming glow. You rub the sleep from your eyes and lean over your seat to take a glance through the carriage window. It’s a beautiful summer day in the Midlands without a cloud in the sky, birds are chirping and a light breeze is blowing through the forest, rustling the leaves. You huff, regretting that you didn’t walk the trail now. It was the perfect day for it. You lean over, reaching for your rucksack when you spy something twinkling in the corner of your eye. Looking down, you see it’s a small ornate hand mirror tucked under the seat. You bend down and pick it up. “Strange, I don’t remember packing this.” You mumble to yourself as you raise the hand mirror to your face. How on earth did it get in your carriage? Perhaps a noble was to use this carriage and had forgotten it? There was no chance of that, no noble would be riding in such a shoddy carriage, even the thought makes you laugh. Regardless, you decide now is a good time to check yourself over. You want to look your best after all. Gazing into the mirror, you quickly check yourself over, sweeping your hair, wiping the drool from your mouth, the usual fare for when you’d faceplant a pillow and fall asleep. Your name is Shibo Kenshiko, an aspiring mage of House Kenshiko, a magi family who hold high rank among the noble families of Orientia. Being a girl of plain appearance, the noble roots of your family did not shine through too well. Nothing in particular stood out about your looks, though you liked to think you were cuter than most girls. The recent weeks in the sun had given your skin a healthy tan, your eyes were curved and as light as the blue sky and you seldom smiled. You had long green coloured hair that would normally reach down to your shoulders, but you were fond of keeping it contained in a long ponytail. Your outfit too lacked any air of nobility, though it did not stand out much among the people of the cities. It was quite fitting with your appearance; a simple white blouse that was far too big for you. Sadly, it was all the tailor had in stock when you needed some garments and you couldn’t afford to be too picky. It stretched down to your knees and was nearly long enough to be a dress. Along with your blouse, you wore a pair of green baggy shorts, and a pair of black tights along with a pair of leather boots that could certainly use a shine. “I look fine.” You comment to yourself, smiling. You run a hand over your green hair and hold the mirror out to get a better look at your figure. Your clothes concealed your curves well, giving you an almost blocky figure. That was for the best. You were modest in your womanly assets; you breasts were fair and the same could be said for your backside; like a firm, well-rounded peach. Your hips had the honor of being your least modest feature; they were slightly wider than average and often it made you feel a tad… pear shaped, but you thought little of it. Finally finished, and giving yourself a soft smile, you sit the mirror down by your side. As you do that, you notice, sticking out of your satchel, a piece of rolled up paper. That was your letter of acceptance to Fort Victoria, the capital fort of Eseriths Fighting Guild. You pull the parchment from your satchel and unroll it. On the parchment is the sigil of the Eserith Fighters Guild; two longswords crossed in front of a silver kite shield. Running across the bottom of the sigil is a banner reading the words “Always Willing. Always Ready. The famous motto. The parchment also bears your name: Shibo Kenshiko and a signature: R. Rodrin, the mentor of the site that had gotten you your Apprenticeship. Holding that letter close to you, you sit back in your seat and close your eyes. You fantasize about your new life with a Guild. “I’m going to be a Guildhand.” You whisper the words, letting them hang on your tongue. Just speaking them makes you grin with joy as you open your eyes and once again admire the letter in your hands. Those words filled you with glee now just as much as they had when you first spoke them. As you are sat there, letting dreams fill your head, you hear the squeaking wheels grow quiet. The horses whinny, their hooves trampling the mud and falling quiet too. The carriage grinds to a halt. That was odd, you weren’t expecting any stops until Guilden, and you certainly weren’t there yet. Quickly folding up the letter and stuffing it in your satchel, you go to see what the commotion is about. On your way past, you decide to take the hand mirror with you, but when you reach down to pick it up… you find it’s gone. “Strange…” You hoist your satchel over your shoulder and leave the carriage. The door of the carriage swings open and you are greeted with the warm sun on your brow and a warm breeze. You can hear the rushing water of a nearby creek. “Aye, calm yourselves!” The carriageman, an old balding man with a thick beard and heavy sleepless eyes, yells to his horses. His voice causes a robin to flee from the branch of a nearby oak. You step up beside one of the horses, comforting the nearest one with a gentle pat on the nose. There is a narrow river running through the forest. It’s not too deep, a few twigs and stones stick out above the waters surface. No, the real concern that is causing the horses such dismay is a tree which has tumbled down, taking the wooden bridge over the river down with it. “Oh, Miss Kenshiko.” The carriageman notices you beside the horse. He takes a wooden pipe from his pocket and sucks on it. “I’m afraid the carriage can’t go any further.” He says with a frown, the pipe hanging from his lips. You share his frown, but only for a moment. Then, you feel a great joy in being able to enjoy this beautiful day on foot. “I don’t mind.” You smile at the carriageman. “It’s too nice a day to be cooped up in a carriage.” You grasp the strap of your satchel with both hands and look ahead. “How much further is it to Guilden?” The carriageman takes a puff from his pipe, lets the smoke hang in his mouth, and exhales. “It should only be a half hour venture on foot, I reckon.” He stands up and points over the collapsed bridge. “Just follow the trail and you’ll come out on the hill overlookin’ the lake.” “Thank you.” You reach into your pocket and throw the carriageman his payment for ferrying you so far. “I wish you a good day, sir.” With your boots to the dirt, you prepare for the final quarter of your travel. You hop across a few stones by the bridge, leap across the river and follow the road deeper into the forest. It’s beautiful, almost tranquil. The sun shines through the trees, critters scamper around your feet, chirping and chattering before vanishing into the bushes. A soft summer wind blows over you, rustling your hair. You feel relaxed as you walk briskly through the tranquil stretch of forest. Roughly five minutes later, as you are walking along, surrounding yourself with the sights and sounds of the Riverren forest, you suddenly hear footsteps running toward you; stressful boots thumping against the dirt, closing in on you. “Hey! Wait up!” A voice calls out from behind, urging for your attention. It’s a young girl travelling alone who beckons for your attention. She looks far too innocent to be a thief or a brigand. She is quite short, almost half a head shorter than you, her eyes gaze widely like a child and her auburn hair looks like it was cut by a drunk with a blunt knife; it was short and only got longer and messier the nearer it got to her ears. But it’s her “unique” attire that catches your eyes. She’s wearing a long mage robe with the sleeves cut off near her elbows, and a messy white shirt that looked more like an artists canopy, splattered and stained with all matters of colours and patterns. A belt full of vials, all filled with unknown concoctions of various colours, as well as a leather bandolier of potions are wrapped over her robes, and the most eye-catching of her apparel - a large wooden barrel, almost twice her size is hoisted on her back like a satchel, held in place with two leather straps that she’s grasping. The barrel hisses and a burst of steam erupts from the top. You hear it gurgling like a hungry beast from within. The young girl, despite hoisting that gargantuan barrel, does not struggle to catch up with you. She stops when she gets by your side and catches her breath. Up close, you see just how short she truly is - her eyes just meet your breasts. That’s somewhat of an impressive feat, since you were not too tall yourself. The girl huffs and puffs, her red cheeks inflate and deflate, her chest heaves and she pants, desperate to swallow all the air she can. Finally, she manages to blurt out some words. “Y-y-you… you’re h-heading for Guilden… right?” She struggles to speak between bouts of heavy panting. Her ragged breathing and flat heaving chest make you think lewdly. You blush, and avert your gaze. “Aha! You are! I knew you were!” She gives you a toothy grin. “I see that letter in your backpack.” You didn’t feel the need to give a response now the girl knew. Instead, you nod. “Maybe you should put the barrel down for a moment?” You say. “Ha!” The girl grins, her teeth showing through her smile. “Good idea!” She lets go of the straps and the barrel collapses behind her, kicking up dry dirt. “Ahhh…” She bends down, leaps up and stands up straight, stretching out her arms as high as she can. “That’s better!” She throws a hand out in your direction. “My name is Muaki!” She introduces herself, offering you her hand, which you accept reluctantly. “You say the first part like a cow!” She demonstrates with a moo, completely forgetting she had just pronounced her name while introducing herself. “So it’s Mooo-aki!” She grins. “I’m an alchemist from Waverton! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Though reluctant, you still feel obliged to introduce yourself, though Muaki’s ecstatic nature makes you feel especially shy. Probably all that cheeriness. You were never that outgoing, especially around energetic people. “My name is Shibo.” You start with a nervous quiver. “Shibo Kenshiko.” “Kenshiko?” Muaki tilts her head like a confused puppy at the sound of your name. After a moment to herself, she snaps her fingers her eyes begin to glimmer. “Ah! You’re from Orientia!” She goes quiet again, muttering under her breath and giggling. “Sorry, I was just running your name through my head! It’s really fun to say! Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. You should give it a try!” “There’s no need for that.” You say playfully. “I hear it enough almost everyday.” “I bet you do!” Muaki does not catch on to the subtle snarkiness in your voice. “Shibo Kenshiko. Shbo. Kenshiko. It’s so fun to say!” She tenses up, scrunches her face, and clenches her fists with overwhelming glee that leaves her feeling giddy. After repeating your name a few more times, she finally gets bored of saying it. “Sorry, I’m just really excited about getting to Guilden. Do you mind if we walk together?” “I… sure.” You say, resisting the urge to sigh. So much for enjoying the forest peacefully. But you’d feel guilty turning her down, and it was only a short walk to Guilden. “Ha! Great! I love walking with company!” She bends down and hoists the barrel back onto her back. It gurgles. “Let’s get going!” She points onward and starts walking, hunched over with the weight of the barrel on her back. You look at down, frowning at the sight of your scuffed boots. “I have to pee…” You mumble, hoping Muaki doesn’t hear you. That’s all that is on your mind. It had been lingering for a while but only now was it creeping up on you. Maybe it was the heat. You’d hoped to hold it in until you reached Guilden, or if the need got too demanding, you were not averse to wetting a patch of dry dirt behind a tree. But that option went out the window thanks to your newfound traveling companion. The stretch of forest seemed never ending and the tea you had downed before falling asleep was getting well acquainted with your bladder… perhaps a bit too well acquainted. “A half hour walk my fanny…” “Shibo! Is something the matter?” Muaki looks back, noticing her walking buddy is now absent.. Pushing back the urges in your bladder, you look to Muaki and shake your head. “It’s nothing.” You would not be resorting to a childish potty dance just yet. For now, you just had to endure it. You rush on to catch up with Muaki and together with your new friend walk along the trail.
  3. I've wanted to do another Yuka story for awhile. This one is a rewrite of the first story I wrote called The Thief and The Holy Girl. This time though, I wanted to make a longer, more fleshed-out story with more situations. I'll give the warning that this first part has no drawn out desperation, but that will be coming later. If casual peeing/pooping isn't your thing, then this first part isn't going to tickle your pickle. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part I In the courtyards of the prison, she could hear them talking, though just barely. “So what did she do?” One guard asked another. “Assaulted a noble. There was a brawl in a small teahouse, nice little place. A couple of kids got rowdy, just as Lord Danshin’s son was visiting. In the whole mess, this girl, thin as a beanpole lashes out at somebody and misses him. Hits the noble’s kid square in the jaw.” The first guard seemed to find it difficult to take in. “This is that girl down in the cellar, right? The cute one with blonde hair?” “Yep. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, so anyway, Danshin’s kid, now covered in tea, starts hollering and screaming. He demands whoever struck him must be executed. By now, the rest of these kids have realized who it is screaming and they’ve bolted out the front door. Not the girl though, she was just stood there.” “So she’s sat in that cell waiting for the gallows?” “Nope. A few weeks before we were meant to do it, Captain of the guard comes to visit personally. Claims Lord Danshin’s kid was way out of hand and that her sentence be lowered to a life imprisonment. So she’s shoved down into the cellar and left to rot.” “Shame, she’s cute.” In the bowels of the prison, in the old cells deep beneath the ground, a thief had been locked up. For the crime of assaulting a noble, she was to miss trial and be sent straight to the gallows. But the sun shone from her arse one lucky day when that execution was reduced to life imprisonment. This thief was Yunoko Tanobi, a blonde-haired miscreant and extremely talented. It was her who had raised her fist to that noble, striking him square in the cheek. Now, she was left to rot in this cell. She was a sharp, tomboyish girl of nineteen years. Courtesy of her thin frame, she had a sharp, distinct face with amethyst coloured eyes. She had long, straw-coloured hair that reached her shoulders, or would if it did not flick upwards. It was as if a banana skin had been discarded atop her head. That was the joke that was shared among her friends. The well-renowned beauty of Orientian girls was lost to Yunoko, with her wide whimsical eyes that always seemed to be looking for something and her thin crooked lips that held a certain sinister intend buried behind a friendly grin. As for her body, she was thin and built like a beanpole, barely an ounce of fat on her. She was skinny, lanky, and well shaped only around her arse, which she often touted as been her best feature. Even without any sun for so long, she was still a light tan colour. Appearance meant little to her, and her philosophy for thievery had always been the less she wore, the less constricted she felt. Because of this she often favoured a long white robe without sleeves; She’d torn them off believing it made her difficult to grab. She’d been right until recently. Beneath her robe, she covered her breasts, barely, with a brown corset that exposed her midriff. Were it not for laws, or the constant propositions from drunk horny men in the late hours, she’d happily walk around with her assets on display. Her shorts were a dull beige and often so low she’d catch a stray wind against the crack of her arse and lastly her boots were simple, made of leather, stained with all kinds of muck that littered the streets. Today had been a day like every other day that had passed since she’d been locked up. Yuka had woken up, tended to a pesky inch on her arse, and hobbled over to the corner of her cell, scratching herself the whole way. Still half asleep, she’d squat down over the drain and take a long, hissing piss into the waiting abyss. She’d yawn, let out a tired groan and fart, all while her water rushed beneath her. She’d sigh with relief as a whole nights worth of water poured from between her legs, splattering against the iron grate beneath her. Once she was almost finished, she’d peer between her legs and watched the last of her piss rain down in the unending darkness beneath her. After she’d taken her morning piss, she’d shake off the stray dribbles, cursing the lack of paper she was given as she jiggled her butt to get dry, then pull up her shorts and get breakfast. An iron tray would always be waiting by her cell door. On it was a bowl of porridge, unsweetened, lumpy, and more like gruel, as well as a cold cup of green tea. Seeing that miserable excuse for food made her long to be back in the capital, eating meat and drinking wine once more. She’d sit on her bed, slowly nibbling at the lumps of porridge and sipping her green tea. Some days she’d think about the Thieves Guild, and others she’d think about Ania, hoping one day she could feel her soft embrace again. Once breakfast was finished, there was nothing to do but sit on her bed until nature called. Once she heard the moan of her stomach, she’d jump up from her bed and head back to the corner of her cell, where she’d yank down her trousers and take a dump over the drain. With a soft grunt, Yuka farted. She wrapped her arms around her legs and emptied her bowels into the hole. Eating nothing but porridge had given her a soft stomach. She’d farted again, only this time it was wet. After a few seconds of wiggling her backside, she’d feel her hole yawn and a slither of soft mess wormed its way between her cheeks. It passed easily, like slop. It fell into the sewers beneath with an echoing splat. Once she was relieved, Yuka hopped up, her shorts still around her knees, and reached for the papers she used to wipe. Most of what she used for paper were pages from the books she was given in ‘care packages’ which were often sent courtesy of an old friend. She took a few papers and bent back down. “You guys bring me this drivel, but won’t bust me out.” She scrunched up the paper angrily in her palm and used it to wipe her arse. Taking a dump was the last notable thing of the day in Yuka’s routine. With the exception of one call at noon to give her another thimble of bland tea, all she could do until lights out was lie down on her bed and stare up at the cold concrete ceiling. For most people, that would be enough to drive them insane. Not for Yuka, she held onto the hope that her friends were planning something to get her out of here. She was the best thief they had, no job went without loot when she was the one running it. Those thoughts were what kept her sane. Once or twice, if the feeling took her, she’d even entertain herself with her fingers. But touching herself couldn’t compete with the touch of a tavern girl. Their soft, almost silk-like touch gently fingering the soft spot between her legs as she’d grope their bare breasts was a feeling she missed greatly. Often, as she played with herself, she’d sigh, yearning for the touch of another woman, and it was those thoughts that entertained her and pushed her toward pleasure. The day passed, and evening came quickly. Not that Yuka could tell. There was no window in her cell and the only way she knew of the passage of time was by the Prison belltower. She lay in her bed, one foot hanging over the other and both hands behind her head. She sighed. “Someday…” Her longing to escape was interrupted when her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that dire excuse for porridge hardly sustained her through the whole day. Dinnertime had to be soon, or so Yuka thought. An hour passed, signaled by the ringing of the bell, and still no food. Yuka grumbled, jumped up from her bed and angrily approached her cell door. “HEY!” She yelled through the bars of her cell door. The words echoed but nobody seemed to care. “HEY!” She called again, this time rattling the iron bars. Her calls were answered; The sound of heavy footsteps pounded against the old stone of the prisons cellar. A looming shadow that only grew as it approached her swept along the concrete walls. A large bull of a man appeared, wrapped up from head to toe in steel and leather armour. He stood at nearly twice the size of the prison doors and glared down at Yuka with dead soulless eyes. “What?” He said calmly, but there was no kindness in his voice. “I’m hungry.” Yuka scowled. “Dinner was meant to be an hour ago.” “You eat when we say you eat, Prisoner.” The man tapped the handle of his greataxe against the stone floor. His cold lifeless stare did not ease up and he leant forward to match Yuka’s height. She wasn’t easily intimidated by the Brutes display. A thousand cunts twice her size had tried that before him, and few could scare her. She too leant forward, mimicking every action he did; she slapped her hands against her hips, leant in until she could smell the cheap booze and aging meat on his breath and scowled, baring her teeth. “Dinner was meant to be an hour ago.” She repeated herself quietly this time, displaying a seething anger in her voice. BANG! It happened quickly. The Guard, for a large boorish brute, was certainly quick with that axe. He slammed it against the cell door, rattling the metal and sending a howling echo through the cellar. Shocked by the sudden rattling of the bars, Yuka fell backwards, unable to comprehend what had just happened for a second. She nearly fell arse-first onto the floor of the cell, but managed to save her backside the hard landing. “You eat when we say you eat, Prisoner.” He growled again, wrapping his meaty hands around the handle of the axe and cackling. All Yuka could reply with was a long cold stare that tried to hide her anger. Her heart was pounding from the fear that strike brought her, but she buried it in the pit of her stomach. I’d kick you in the fucking balls if I could. She thought, holding her tongue. “Fine…” She gave in, scrambled to stand up straight and brushed off the dust that had landed on the bottom of her robe. There was a twinge in her bladder as she bent over to reach her robe, and again the need to take piss had made itself known. “I’m going for a piss.” Yuka waved her hand feebly in the air, brushing off what the guard said like it did not bother her, and strolled over to the corner of her cell. There was no privy in her cell, or even a small hole to squat over. Her cell was directly above the sewers and in the corner of her room was an old drain that connected to them. Apparently it was an old drain for throwing old food waste down into the sea, and that was what Yuka had for relieving herself, a squalid old drain. It didn’t bother her too much. She’d pissed in far worse places in her time. The only thing that bothered her was the smell that crept up, and she even grew used to that eventually. She approached the drain, one hand already fiddling with the button on her shorts. The feeling of fullness that pushed against her bladder was mild, but it made itself known. It had been a while since she’d last taken a piss. This morning actually. She unbuttoned her shorts, hooked her fingers around her knickers and pulled them down. She turned around, angled herself over the iron grate that led to the sewers and squatted down over it. She couldn’t go so easily. Out of the corner of her, Yuka could see the guard was watching her squat. She could see those wide, bloodshot eyes leering at her, hoping to get a peek of something. She raised her middle finger to the leering guard and hissed. “Hey, I’m trying to take a leak!” The guard growled. He tapped his axe against the stone and leant toward the cell door. “Turn the fuck around!” Yuka yelled. The guard growled again, and this time he shook his head in disgust. His hand disappeared behind the wall and he pulled the mouldy old curtain over her cell door, bathing her cell in near darkness. She had some privacy, at least. Yuka shuffled over the grate to get comfortable. She found it hard to piss if she wasn’t comfortable. She spread her legs slightly and sighed. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she huffed and let her bladder handle the rest. But before she could, something caught her attention down deep in the sewers. Yuka held back her water and peered down between her legs. She noticed a very faint light from deep below illuminating a small patch of mouldy stone. A lantern. “What the…” Somebody was walking through the sewers, and they were getting closer. The thought of somebody wandering beneath her cell gave Yuka a menacing thought. One that made her grin. For no other reason that to amuse herself, she watched the light grow closer. When it was right beneath her, she intended to open the floodgates and piss right on the head of whoever was beneath her. The light came right beneath the grate and stopped. It was still too dark for Yuka to tell who it was, but it was probably just a guard; some poor bastard who’d been sent on rat extermination. She didn’t care, her piss didn’t discriminate. With a big grin, Yuka shuffled again, angling herself properly and lowered her butt closer to the grate until her butthole was almost puckered up with the dirt steel. With a mischievous grin, she relaxed and let her river flow. “I think this is it.” Somebody beneath her spoke. It was a boy, and the voice sounded familiar. “Are you sure?” A female replied to him. “The map says it’s her cell. Right beneath the sewers, right?” “Alright, get the rope.” They were talking about her, they had to be. Nobody else was locked up in the cellar. The rest had already been carted off to the gallows or released. “Who are they…” Yuka held herself, halting her water right at the tip of her maidenly spout. It stung, and she grimaced, but it subsided quickly. “Yunoko, you up there?” The boy called up. Before she could reply, Yuka peered around the corner of the drain, and upon seeing the shadow of the guard was gone, she called back down. “Who the fuck’s down there?” The boy didn’t answer. “Move aside Mouri.” The girl spoke in his place. “Yunoko, I’m gonna shoot a rope up to you. Get ready to catch it.” “Hey hol-” She couldn’t even get her words out before she heard a whistle fast approaching her. It was a dart, and behind it a length of rope was unfurling. It shot up through the drain, barely missing her left arsecheek. “Fucking hell…” Yuka cursed, feeling the wind of the dart. “You almost gave me a second arsehole.” With nibble things, she grabbed the dart before it could fall back between the iron bars. “Alright, I’ve got it.” “Now tie it to the pipe running across the wall.” The girl ordered her. “Can I at least, you know, pull my knickers back up?” “Now, Yunoko.” The girl sounded low on patience. “Fine…” Yuka sighed. She followed the girls orders and tied the rope around one of the metal pipes running along the wall of her cell. Her shorts fell down further and landed atop her boots, revealing her bare arse to a cold drought that felt refreshing in more places than one. As she tied the rope, Yuka thought to herself for a moment; she was sure she’d heard the name Mouri. It couldn’t be. She hadn’t seen him in months. He was one of her few friends in the Thieves Guild and a boy with far too little stones to be doing something as daring as a prison breakout. She tied the rope around the pipe and finished tying the knot. “Alright, done.” “Mouri, hand me those gems.” “A-Amida…” The boy shook his words. Yuka could hear his nerves quivering just from the sound of his voice. “D-Do you mind if I do it?” The girl sighed. “You’re kidding.” Things went silent for a moment. “Think you’re up for it? Remember make it quick and use these gems around the corners of the drain. Remember: The corners. Say it with me.” “The corners.” The boy repeated those words. “Amida? Mouri?” Yuka recognized Amida too, and now it was absolutely clear. She hadn’t been forgotten about and left to rot in prison. The Thieves Guild had actually grown some stones and come to break her out. “I didn’t think you two had the balls to come do this.” Yuka grinned. She felt all warm, her heart was fluttering and she felt a joy she hadn’t felt since she was last on the outside. After a minute, Mouri arrived at the top of the rope. He appeared beneath the grate with a less than satisfied look on his face. He’d grown in these three months, or so it looked that way. His dark hair had grown and a thin layer of fluff was growing on his lower lip. He looked like a man now. “Hey Mouri.” Yuka giggled. “Getting a good view of my arse from there?” She wiggled her backside. “Wanna give it a kiss?” The young thief’s cheeks burned a bright crimson at the sight of Yuka’s bare thighs, as well as her more personal of assets being wiggled in his face. He averted his gaze and looked straight ahead at the gross walls of the sewer. “Now is not the time for messing around, Yuka.” His words stumbled. “Come on, pull your shorts up and let’s go.” “This is the first time I’ve had a lads face this close to my arse.” She reveled in his embarrassment. Already, it was like old times, and that made her joyous inside. She hopped to her feet, pulled her shorts back up and buttoned them up. That piss would have to wait, at least she would have the pleasure of an actual toilet… or an alley. “You’re lucky, I was gonna piss on your head.” Mouri ignored Yuka and did exactly was Amida had ordered him to do. With four small orange gems in the palm of his hand, he pressed one against each corner of the drain. A small orange flame erupted from his hand and burned away at the metal, melting it almost instantly. On the final corner, he rested a gloved hand against the grate, relying on his legs to keep him on the rope, and caught it one the gem had melted away the last piece of metal. He shimmied up the rope and gently placed the grate on the floor of the cell. The sight of the barren cell twisted his face with disgust. “This is what you’ve had to live in for three months?” He asked. “And that’s what I’ve had to shit in.” Yuka pointed to the open drain. “Let’s get going before that numb fuck out there realizes what’s going on.” Yuka climbed onto the rope and descending with Mouri into the depths of the sewers. “Hey Mouri?” She whispered. “What?” “Thanks for not forgetting me.” Yuka smiled warmly.
  4. Guest

    female Oshikko Story

    You open your eyes as you see a dark abyss in front of you. Your eyesight is still blurry due to just regaining consciousness. you give your eyes time to readjust to your surroundings. A set of vertical black bars fade into your sight. The bars continue to thin as your eyesight slowly becomes clearer over time. As soon as your eyes become as sharp as they need to be, the bars take a cylinder shape in front of you. That's when you know exactly where you are... You're in a prison cell. You can't feel your limbs, they feel like they're in a burning sensation, which is ironic considering you're freezing right now. It hurts to even move them. Not that it's that painful to move them of course, it's more like trying to wake up for work on a Monday morning. You grit your teeth and through sheer determination to discover what the heck happened to you, you slowly lift yourself up step by step. You stand upon your two legs as you hold your head and try to maintain your balance. You pivot around the room to look at your surroundings. Although it is incredibly dark, you can just barely make out the layout of your cell. The walls around you are layered with thick, dark stone. The only objects within your room are your bed, or a poor excuse for one at least since there isn't even a pillow let alone a blanket. In fact, the only defining factor that this "bed" has is that it's a slab of metal elevated off the ground and only held in place by two chains at each corresponding end which is then connected to the stone wall. Then there's the toilet. It doesn't have a toilet lid and it's entirely made out of cold metal, but other than that, it's a perfectly functioning toilet. At least, you assume it's a functioning toilet. You haven't had much reason to test it out I suppose. Even if you did have a reason to, you shudder to think of sitting your bare ass on a cold piece of metal and doing your business right in front of a guard or something. Wait, are you even clothed right now?! The thought didn't enter your mind until you thought of sliding down your pants to go to the bathroom. But now that it's there, you know you would DIE of embarrassment if anyone ever saw you naked. Oh no, don't tell me this is one of those typical fetish fanfictions where females get yeeted into a mysterious world completely nude! Your face turns as red as a tomato as you slowly, but hesitantly look downwards at your body. Nope, you're wearing clothes, thank goodness! Mind you, the shirt and pants you're wearing right now may be worn, but hey! You can't complain with a prison that may or may not abide by the laws of the government be kind enough to give you clothes! Honestly, if they were to give you anything you would at least expect them to make you wear a diaper or something. Wait, ARE you wearing a diaper?! Oh no, don't tell me this is one of those other typical fetish fanfictions where females get yeeted into a mysterious world with nothing but a diaper on! your face turns red again as you slowly dig a hand into the backside of your pants, even more hesitant than before. You place your hand against your ass aaaaand- Nope, nothing there. Just your bare butt. While you are glad that you're not wearing a diaper underneath your clothes, you're a little disappointed that your pants are the only thing covering the lower part of your body. Well, a victory is a victory I suppose. Time for a victory dance! 😄 You spend the next following twenty-seven seconds dancing around your cell like a complete idiot chanting "I'm not wea-ring a dia-PA! I'm not wearing a dia-PA!" over and over. Eventually you realize how stupid you look and slowly stop due to embarrassment, and partially because you're starting to get tired. Dancing is hard work okay?! T_T Besides, you're getting distracted. You need to remember how you got in this cell in the first place. You slowly lift your arms towards your head and try to remember. Now you're placing your hands against the sides of your head. Now you're squeezing the sides of your head with your hands. Come on! REMEMBER! Okay stop! STOP! You're going to strain yourself! It's no use, you can't remember a thing. You need to find a way to get some answers. Choice Selection 1. Call out for someone 2. Look outside your cell for a key holder 3. Search your cell for something to escape with 4. Search the walls surrounding your wall for a barred window to escape from NOTE: i've added links to youtube videos within spoiler boxes so readers can set the mood with music, while not taking up much space for others who just want to experience the story. If a link is repeated that means that a different soundtrack replaced it previously and it's now replacing the soundtrack that replaced IT to fit the mood currently. Also this is my very first time writing fanfiction on this account! I've had experience with writing fanfiction before but I never wrote anything as detailed and ambitious as this before! It took me a couple of hours last night and all day today to write this so I hope you all will enjoy it! ^w^ Also i'm looking forward to experimenting with colour-coding certain paragraphs of the story so readers have the option of skipping to the juicy stuff if they want to. Furthermore, it also gives readers the option of skipping certain paragraphs if it has a kink that's a turn-off to them. Of course, I actually have to figure out HOW to colour-code text in the first place. -w- If anyone can teach me how to colour-code that would be amazing. If any of you have ANY suggestions or negative constructive criticism at all for this interactive I would be more than happy to hear it! I'm serious! i'll always be glad to take whatever advice I can in order to improve as much as possible! ^w^
  5. This is another MCU fanfic also written as a commission. Again it's set in an AU which means the timeline doesn't add up, but this is mainly so Shuri and Kamala are over 18. It's not finished! Towards the end the guy decided he was gonna not pay for it. I've put it here in the hopes someone at least will enjoy it and that will be better than nothing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sun had long set over Malibu, California, but the moonlight still illuminated every inch of the ocean outside. From the sweeping windows of Tony Stark's mansion, it was impossible to ignore the way it reflected on the black water that washed against sandy shores, a pearly-white orb hanging low in the night sky. Down, hundreds of metres below at the foot of a jagged cliff, the only thing breaking the silence would be the rhythmic lapping of gentle waves on the coast. As one ventured further up the hill, other noises would slowly fade into play: the rushing of distant cars, or perhaps occasional calls from nocturnal birds. Inside, however, the celebrations were only just beginning. The biggest rooms were crawling with guests from every walk of life. Superheroes, soldiers, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents (attending on the down-low, as always), Wakandans, aliens, at least one Asgardian God and a raccoon. Right in the centre of the chaos stood Pepper Potts, left as usual with the impossible role of hostess and doing her best to make sense of it all. Dressed head to toe in white, Pepper kept ducking and weaving from spot to spot, trying to ensure she talked to every guest, desperately hoping she wouldn't forget anyone. To make matters harder, she was growing increasingly aware that she needed the toilet. It wasn't a pressing urge yet, but Pepper knew that at some point during the evening she'd have to find the time to visit the bathroom and relieve herself. This was far from ideal; it wasn't very ladylike to abandon the party, especially as hostess. Gritting her teeth, Pepper resolved to forget about it and hold on for a while longer. True to character, Carol Danvers was one of the last to arrive, and Pepper headed straight over to greet her. Pepper's interactions with the famous Captain Marvel had been limited, so she was keen to be polite and make a good impression. She offered the blonde woman a drink, which Carol accepted graciously, and showed her to the food tables. Tony's parties were known for getting a little wild as the night went on, but Pepper could see that this was a woman who could handle wild. Of course, Pepper thought as she scanned the room, the same could be said of pretty much every woman there. She spotted the small contingent of Wakandans not far from the door- Okoye, Shuri and Nakia were standing in a group, being introduced by Thor to his plus-one, a woman Pepper barely knew called Jane Foster. Then there were the five Shield agents in the other corner, who could no doubt take care of themselves. Peggy Carter was among them- and as one of the very few people Pepper knew who had lived through a world war, she was fairly confident that Peggy could handle one of Tony's ill-advised DJ sets. The wildcard was a young newcomer called Kamala Khan, who people were starting to call Ms Marvel. Pepper only knew three things about the girl- that she wasn't old enough to legally drink, that she was a muslim who didn't drink anyway and that she had some seriously impressive powers. Right now she was gushing emphatically at poor Carol Danvers, who hadn't even had time to eat yet. Nonetheless, Pepper liked what she'd seen so far from Kamala. The kid had nerve, but she seemed sweet enough. Then, of course, there was Natasha Romanoff, who stood by the bar flirting idly with Bruce Banner. Black Widow was probably tougher than anyone else in the room, Pepper reminded herself. As she watched Nat and Bruce, it hit her again- that familiar feeling of needing to use the bathroom, although she knew she still had some time before it became an emergency. Throughout her life, Pepper had always struggled with using the toilet while there were other people nearby. Public restrooms had always been a no-go-zone unless she had no other choice, and only when she was desperate could she relax enough to go while even her own home was busy. But tonight was looking certain to be one of those nights where she couldn't avoid at least a couple of trips to one of the mansion's bathrooms, so she was determined to get it over with. With any luck, the glasses of wine she'd already polished off would help move things along. And the sooner the better- things were starting to get uncomfortable, after all. As if by some magic, Tony appeared at her side, wearing- inexplicably- sunglasses and a blazer. Her husband liked to dress up in style, no doubt about it. He'd been playing snooker with Rhodey and Clint Barton for most of the party so far, but Pepper was extremely glad to see him now. The pressure in her bowels was building, and a fullness in her bladder wasn't much better. Quietly, she blamed both on the Sauvignon. "Tony, hi. Can you watch the party for a second?" she asked sweetly. "Sure, what's up?" he was looking at her funny, she just knew it, even beneath those sunglasses. He could tell something was up with her. But Pepper had never had any problems with talking about her bodily functions to boyfriends, so she told him the truth. "I have to use the bathroom. For both things," she clarified before he could ask, "but I'll be back soon. Love you". Pepper must have been in more of a hurry than she'd realised, because she rushed off in the direction of the nearest bathroom without waiting for a reply. She could feel warm gas bubbling up inside of her, but point-blank refused to let any escape. Here, wearing a white jumpsuit in the middle of an expensive mansion surrounded by powerful people, she was not gong to fart. So, instead, she pressed on, even when a nasty thought hit her. It'd be just my luck if there's a line, a voice in her head piped up. But would it be luck? Was it really unlikely that, in a very busy party, multiple people would need the bathroom at once? With a serious need to sit down on a porcelain throne beginning to intensify in her belly, Pepper could only hope that she would be the first person to get to the toilet. She had no way of knowing just how many others were in the same situation. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kamala Khan first realised something was wrong when she felt a cramping in her stomach. As a healthy young woman who ate well and never drunk alcohol, she rarely got sick, and this was a feeling she wasn't much used to. She'd just been called over to grab a drink with Shuri, the only other person in the room anywhere near her age, when it first crept up on her. A sharp pain in the belly, a sudden desire to stop walking and lean on something. Kamala recognised it immediately; she had to poop. But Shuri was waiting across the room, smiling her sly smile, and Kamala didn't want to make her wait. Well sure, she found Shuri a little intimidating. So what? Lots of people were probably intimidated by this teenage genius, this woman of almost impossible intelligence. Only a couple of people in the room could hold a candle to Shuri's brain, and yet she still managed to be a normal person... well, most of the time. Tonight wearing a flowery cream dress and impeccably white heels, she couldn't have looked more different to the Shuri Kamala had met before. But beyond the clothes she had the same cheeky smile, the same glint in her eyes that reassured Kamala that they weren't so different after all. "Come on, Kam," Shuri said, grabbing Kamala gently on the wrist and leading her away. It took Kamala a few seconds to realise that they were going in the wrong direction, away from the drinks. They veered past Bruce Banner, around Thor and Jane and towards the back of the colossal room, where it branched out into the rest of the house. "I thought we were getting drinks?" Kamala asked, genuinely confused. Shuri just laughed. "No, silly, we're going to the bathroom. I just didn't want to shout that at you across the party," she said. Quietly, Kamala felt relieved; it would be nice to get a chance to try and deal with the brewing in her belly. "Why did you take me?" she pressed tentatively. "Kamala, you have a lot to learn," Shuri smirked, "you can't just go off to the bathroom by yourself at a party, you would look like such a loser". She slipped past the turned back of Steve Rogers and they were free, out of the crowd and into open space. "Besides, you're the only person here my age. It's good to bond". Kamala smiled and relaxed a little; it was great to know that Shuri saw her as a friendly face in the crowd too. She was also grateful to Shuri for breaking the ice, because she'd been beginning to worry about the moment in the evening when she would have to slip away to use the bathroom, and now she knew she wouldn't have to be alone. "Pepper said the bathroom is just around this corner," Shuri continued, "which is a relief because-" she slipped into a stage-whisper, possibly a little tipsy, "I really need to poop". Kamala's eyebrows shot up. "For real?" she asked. Shuri patted her stomach as they walked and laughed. "I feel like I ate a horse," she said quietly. "Me too! Wow, I'm so glad I'm not the only one who has to poop," Kamala breathed, "I was worried it would be so embarrassing making you wait while I sat there and squeezed one out". Both girls cracked up at this, and Kamala felt ten pounds lighter. Shuri just turned to her and winked. "What would you do without me, hm?" But the second they turned the corner both girl's moods changed completely. Kamala's face fell at the sight of the gathering outside of what she assumed was the bathroom, which certainly looked like it would be there a while. Standing right by the door was a pale young woman in an orange dress and deep scarlet lipstick. Immediately, Kamala recognised her as Agent Peggy Carter, the wartime spy who had worked with Captain America decades ago. She looked worse for wear, standing on one leg and leaning the other heel against the wall. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, as if she was afraid that something might fall out should she open them. There was a barely-noticeable bounce in her posture, which made her hair and breasts jiggle just the tiniest amount as she moved. These were the little things that any fellow woman would recognise as the subtle signs of someone in serious need of a toilet. Standing opposite was another S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, this one from a far more recent time- Maria Hill, once right-hand-woman to Nick Fury, was staring down at her mobile phone, one leg crossed over the other. Kamala knew that stance all too well as well: it was the kind of posture you tried when you really had to use the bathroom but really didn't want anyone to notice. Natasha Romanoff completed the picture, across the doorway from Peggy, hand outstretched as if she was ready to knock on the wood and tell whoever was in there to hurry the hell up. Her hair, which today was strawberry blonde, flowed almost shoulder-length. She looked up as the two young women rounded the corner. "Let me guess: stomach problems?" she asked dryly. Kamala didn't have much confidence to engage in a conversation about bowel movements with one of the most powerful women in the world, but Shuri thought nothing of it. The Wakandan groaned in frustration as she took her place behind Maria in the queue. "Yes, and I have to pee as well," she said, her accent showing through even more in her annoyance, "is there something up with the food?" "Must be," Maria opined, "five women all having to go at the same time isn't exactly common". "Who's in there right now?" "We don't know," said Nat, "but they'd better hurry up or Peggy's going to burst". Peggy shook her head irritably; she seemed to resent the implication that she needed the toilet whatsoever, even though it was plain and obvious to Kamala. "I'm completely fine," she insisted, "just a touch of stomach trouble, nothing to worry about". Kamala privately felt that telling such a blatant lie to two spies and a genius was optimistic at best, but she kept her mouth shut. She could empathise with Peggy's desire to pretend she didn't have to go, even though she was clearly already getting desperate. "Well, whoever it is, I hope they come out soon, or I'm going to burst", Shuri said, "and I really like this dress". ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Natasha Romanoff, waiting for the bathroom was just part of the day job. As a highly-trained spy, self-control was essential. A good poker face was vital too. And so whenever she found herself urgently needing to poop or- more frequently- pee, Natasha's only option was to grit her teeth and do whatever it took to hold it in. Sometimes, in a high-pressure environment when combat was likely, that could become nearly impossible. On those occasions, it could feel more like a damage limitation job. She remembered well a day when she was a young operative when she had asked about it. On that particular day, they had been working long hours with no bathroom available, and Natasha had damn near wet herself. Yet her colleagues had never even shown any sign of discomfort. Her mentors had made it perfectly clear how they approached their bodily functions: keep a straight face at all costs. Leaking was fine, farting was fine, but you could never let anyone know you had to go. Squirming, squeezing- to a spy these were all signs of vulnerability, and showing vulnerability was a dangerous thing to do out on the field. Now, though, she wasn't out on the field. She was in line at a house party, surrounded by women with far less experience than herself in the art of holding. The worst that could happen here was a touch of embarrassment, which wasn't something Natasha particularly cared about. She'd seen far too much and lived far too long to still be blushing like a child over something as juvenile as having to take a dump. She would do her best to hold it, of course she would, for that was what was expected of her. But she wasn't about to feel any shame if a few farts needed to come out- if that's what it took. No, Natasha's motivations were far more high-stakes than that, and they concerned Bruce Banner. Herself and Bruce were beginning to get somewhere in their relationship, moving slowly beyond the flirtatious stage that they had found themselves stagnating in. She had been hoping that tonight could be that night, and suspected that shitstained panties rarely led to passionate, steamy affairs. Still, she thought, it could be worse. Peggy Carter still looked like she was struggling to control herself, but it was Maria Hill who was experiencing the most rapid transformation. Within minutes, she had gone from calm (if slightly irritated) to looking seriously panicked. Like Natasha, Maria was no stranger to having to play it straight when she needed the toilet, but whatever was happening inside her body right now was something she couldn't keep under wraps. All the symptoms were there- the kind of signs that spies were trained to look out for to spot when someone was lying, but they applied just as nicely tonight. Hill was sweating, Natasha noticed, and her breathing was certainly shallow. It was an air conditioned hallway. Then there was one far more obvious piece of evidence: the unmistakable scent of a fart, strong and earthy, that must have slipped out silently at some point. There was no mistaking that it had come from Maria. Nat was pulled out of this train of thought by the sound of hurried footsteps around the corner, and seconds later it was Pepper Potts who arrived on the scene. Their hostess may have been in a gorgeous white jumpsuit, but her cheeks were undeniably a deep red. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the line outside the bathroom: two teenagers, a spy and two SHIELD agents, almost all looking like they had to go at least as badly as she did. It was clearly bad news for Pepper. She pushed her legs together and took a step towards Kamala at the back of the line. "Who's in there?" she asked in disbelief. Natasha told her the same thing they had told Shuri- they didn't know, but they needed to get out soon so that the women outside could start getting some relief. "Jesus," Pepper sighed, "some timing. I almost never get desperate, of course it happens when there's a line". "Number one or number two?" asked Kamala helpfully, looking almost immediately like she regretted opening her mouth. She paused a second, and then meekly said "I don't know why I said that". "Both," Pepper admitted, looking worried, "maybe something was up with the food?" "Something was definitely up with the food," Shuri agreed, "I pooped before the party, and now I really have to go again. And ten minutes ago I didn't even need one at all". "Me neither," Kamala said, looking mortified. "Nor me," said Maria. Pepper looked over at Agent Hill for the first time- she had been quiet since the hostess had arrived in the queue, but now it was like Pepper was getting her first proper look at Maria. "Christ, Maria, are you okay?" there was genuine concern in her voice. It was justified, too; the agent was clearly in a lot of distress. "I don't feel good at all," she admitted, clutching her belly with one hand, "my body just wants to push it out". "I know, hun, me too, but we have to fight that," Pepper said soothingly. "If you fart, it might relieve some of the pressure," Natasha suggested. "No way. Not in front of everyone," Hill insisted, even though it was clear that she was tempted by the prospect of letting some gas out. "Why not? I will if you will," Nat pressed. "And me," Shuri offered, looking very much as though she wanted any excuse to relieve some of the fullness in her stomach. Maria was a proud woman, though, and she shook her head. "Thanks, but it's okay," she lied, "I don't even need to f-" but before she could finish the sentence, it happened. A loud, wet fart rumbled out of her, impossible for anyone in the room to miss. Her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth in shock as the incredible noise escaped. All eyes and ears were on the dark-haired woman, cheeks burning in this moment of shame. Her other hand crept to her backside, feeling around tentatively as if scared of what she might find. Seconds later, though, a sigh of relief told Natasha that the damage wasn't too bad- yet. Peggy didn't seem to be able to cope with what she had just seen. Nat felt sorry for the woman- she knew how it felt to see someone else get some relief while you were desperate, after all. With a whimper, the British agent took off and hastily headed down the corridor and out of sight. Watching her walk away from behind, it wasn't hard to see that her cheeks were clenched viciously. "Damn, is she going to be okay?" Nat asked Maria, who knew Peggy much better than any of them. "I don't know- she's just really shy about bathroom stuff. When she first came back to S.H.I.E.L.D. she didn't ask anyone where the bathrooms were for twelve hours". "Well, she is a young woman from wartime England," Shuri pointed out, "I'm guessing when she grew up girls weren't exactly meant to talk about this kind of thing, no?" "Good point," Pepper said, "but I have to go back to the party. I'm no good to anyone standing here trying not to crap my pants," she sighed. "Are you much more help out there trying not to crap your pants?" Natasha asked dubiously. "Maybe not," she conceded, "but at least-" she farted then, a low, ominous sound, " -I'll be doing something". She turned and walked back towards the party room, disappearing around the corner. Nat heard a second pair of footsteps, these ones growing louder, and Pepper's voice saying "Oh, hi, Jane. Good luck!" Natasha didn't know Jane Foster very well at all, but she could see what Thor liked about her. The woman was a natural beauty, with flowing brown hair and soft eyes. She was dressed in dark jeans and a silky top, which- judging by the way she was walking- were in danger of ending up stained. "You have to poop too?" Shuri asked. The older woman looked taken aback by Shuri's forwardness, but frowned and shook her head. "Actually, no, not at all. Why?" "Did you eat any of the food?" "What do you mean?" "Any of the food here," Shuri explained patiently, "at the party. We think the food is what's making everyone need to go number two". "Uh, I don't actually eat at parties," Jane said, clearly not comfortable having this conversation about pooping with a group of famous women. "That settles it, then," Maria said, "the food has given us all the shits. So why are you here?" "And why are you squirming so much?" Kamala added, perhaps a little insensitively. Jane looked beyond embarrassed at this, but didn't seem interested in ignoring the question. "Parties make me nervous. Superheroes and spies make me nervous. When I get nervous, I... drink. A lot". "Ah" "So you have to pee?" Shuri asked. Jane nodded. "Well, join the club," Maria said dryly, "I feel like I'm going to explode". "Me too," Shuri said. "And me," Kamala confessed, looking down, "I drank a lot of soda earlier". "Well, great," Jane said, "I guess I'd better join the back of the line?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time Pepper emerged back into the bustle of the party, it was abundantly clear that plenty of her guests had been hit by whatever was making her stomach cramp painfully. Stumbling past Clint Barton with his wife and a black-haired guest she didn't recognise, she bumped into Carol Danvers, bent at the waist and squirming openly. "Pepper! What's going on? I ate something from the table and now I feel like I'm gonna shit my pants". "I know, I know, me too. Something is wrong with the food, I have a line of girls outside the bathroom who are about to poop themselves and I'm no better off". "Fuck, seriously? And I have to piss, too". "I think we have to just try and hold it, Carol," Pepper said exasperatedly, "I gotta keep doing the rounds, assess the damage". She disappeared back into the crowd, where two faces jumped out at her- the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Melinda May and Daisy Johnson, who were sat together on a couch against one wall. "Daisy, May, hi," she greeted them, feeling another heavy twinge in her bowels, "you guys ok?" "I don't feel great, Pepper," May confided, "my stomach hurts like I have to poop bad" "Same here, but when we went to hit the bathroom we heard that the line was huge," Daisy added. "Yeah, it's huge alright," Pepper confirmed, "the food was off. Almost everyone seems to need to poop or pee or both, I'm just trying to find out how many there are". "Have you seen Jemma?" "Jemma's here?" Pepper asked, confused, "I haven't seen her anywhere". "Yeah, she went off to find another bathroom but she might've got lost. You know Jemma," May said. "Shit, okay. If I see her I'll let you know," Pepper said, heading back into the jumble of guests. There were still a couple of people she needed to talk to. It didn't take long to find them, either, being the only two adult Wakandans in the building. Okoye and Nakia stood a few metres away from the rest of the pack, dressed as extravagantly as always, examining the crowd around them with a mixture of curiosity and caution. The former wore a tight red suit, not as jarring as her armour but certainly unlike anything else anyone at the party could pull off. The latter donned a gorgeous purple dress which showed off her legs brilliantly. Pepper hadn't spoken much to either woman, but she had to find out how they were doing. "Ladies, hello," she said, perhaps a little more carefully than she had intended, "is everything okay?" "Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs Stark," Okoye said gracefully. "Please, call me Pepper," she said for about the fiftieth time that evening, "and are you sure? No illnesses or anything?" Even though Pepper knew she wasn't being very conspicuous, she needed to get to the bottom of this. But she could see that she'd struck a sensitive nerve with Okoye, who struck her a look that quite plainly said she wasn't interested in discussing it. "We're very well, Pepper, thank you," Nakia reiterated. She seemed far more well-versed in the etiquette of nights like these than her companion. "Would you come and get a drink with me? I'd love to ask you about those earrings". She smiled a beautiful smile at Pepper, and linked arms with her before walking away towards the bar. As soon as they were out of Okoye's earshot, though, her voice changed. Panic was evident in the young woman's tone. "Pepper, please tell me that line outside the bathroom is going down," she pleaded. Pepper's face was white as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's still busy. How did you even know about the line?" "I have a phone, Shuri has a phone, she tells me these things," Nakia said dismissively. Once they reached the bar, she stopped, turned and placed a hand on each of Pepper's slim shoulders. "I'm in real trouble here, Pepper, we both know something was in that food. I'm telling you, if I don't get on a toilet soon I won't make it". "But Okoye said-" "Okoye is full of shit," Nakia said, waving her hand, "she is too proud to admit that she has to go just as bad as the rest of us. Not one minute ago she told me that she has never had to poop so badly before. We need to do something about that line, Pepper, or-" Even over the noise of the party, Pepper couldn't mistake the sound of a sharp fart from Nakia's perfectly toned butt. She had never seen embarrassment on the Wakandan's strong features, but she saw it now. "Forgive me, Pepper, I'm in desperate need of a bathroom," she apologised, trying to maintain some sense of regality. "Don't worry about it, please," Pepper said sincerely, "my farts are even worse, especially tonight". Nakia nodded, looking grateful for the reassurance. "Anyway, I need to keep moving, got a lot of guests to check on- and walking helps me keep my poop in," she admitted guiltily. "Go, Pepper," Nakia said, "but whatever it takes, get that line moving". -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Peggy Carter had never needed the toilet so badly in her life. Her bladder cramped and her bowels grumbled as she fumbled her way across the corridor and stumbled into the first empty room she could find- the kitchen. It wasn't the perfectly secluded spot she had been looking for, but it would have to do- her tortured body felt as though it had very little capacity left to walk anywhere without erupting. But giving up was not in Peggy's nature, and so she kept clinging on to the last of her self-control, even as the farts started to come, the kind of farts she knew well from her childhood- the kind of farts that meant that something solid was coming and there was nothing she could do about it. In the dim light of the quiet room, she tried everything to make things easier- sitting, standing, leaning against the wall. Nothing helped, so she was left leaning on a high chair by the window. Her pussy still ached with the need to pee, her bum was still heavy as the first of her poop threatened to poke out, and she could still think about nothing but how unlikely it was that she would make it to the toilet on time. Peggy's legs jiggled frantically, rapidly bouncing in an effort to help her hold it. One of the advantages of being alone was that she didn't have to worry about looking silly while trying to hold, which had been her biggest fear back in the line, and now she felt free to reach behind her and squeeze her cheeks closed, which did a little to ease the pressure. But as she stared out of the glass pane, fingers practically massaging her tight cheeks closed, a sudden voice from behind startled her. She knew that voice. There was only one other woman at the party tonight with that English accent. "Hello, Peggy. Room for two?" Jemma Simmons said, smiling cheekily despite herself. Peggy could immediately feeling her face turn an even deeper shade of pink- she'd been caught doing... that... to hold it in, caught by another agent. It was beyond embarrassing- she'd been seen grabbing her bum like a little girl! But she was surprised to realise that she didn't mind Jemma finding her. Not much. Certainly, there was nobody else in the building she'd rather talk to right now than Jemma. "Don't look so embarrassed," the other Brit said, stepping into the room," you're not the only one who needs a poo". Peggy raised an eyebrow. "You too?" Jemma nodded. "And Daisy and even May. I've never seen May desperate before, it's a lot of fun. I came here looking for a second bathroom but I got lost". "The one down the hall seems to be the only one available right now," Peggy said resignedly. "So why aren't you there?" "Couldn't handle squirming in front of the line, it was too embarrassing". "Ah. Well," Jemma said brightly, "you can squirm in front of me as much as you like, if I can squirm in front of you?" "Deal," Peggy said, and they shook hands. She realised too late that her hand was hot and sweaty, and certainly smelled like farts. "So, uh... how bad do you need to go?" "Like you wouldn't believe, Pegs," she groaned, "you know when it's starting to poke out?" "Know it? I'm living it right now," Peggy said, surprised at how honest she was being, "but it's bad enough being desperate for a poo, I'm absolutely bursting for a wee too". "You're kidding," Jemma laughed, "that really does suck. I remember one bad date a few years ago when I was bursting at both ends. I was too shy to tell them and by the time they dropped me home I had the worst accident before I could get the door open!" "Now, Jemma, don't make me laugh too hard," Peggy warned seriously, "I think I just leaked a little bit". Jemma did her best to keep a straight face, but failed. "I'm bloody desperate," she said. "I'm seriously going to poo myself in a minute. I'm starting to consider that sink". For a moment Peggy wasn't sure if she was being serious, but one look at Jemma's face told her she was joking. All at once, she felt a sudden urge to fart come on. Around any other company in the world, she would never even have considered it, but Jemma had made her feel comfortable being more open about her bodily needs. "I want to apologise in advance for what I'm about to do," Peggy teased, lifting one leg to let rip. But as soon as it escaped her, she knew something wasn't right. The fart sounded squishy, squelchy... as she placed her leg back down, there was no mistaking the feeling. She'd gambled and lost. "Oh, fuck," she whispered, her face turning pale. "What happened?" "It wasn't a fart," Peggy mumbled, getting to her feet, "it was much worse than a fart, what do I do?" "Okay, calm down, Pegs. You're not the first girl to let out more than you bargained. Here's what we're going to do: we'll go back to the bathroom-" "I can't go back there, they'll know I'm desperate-" "Not if you keep it together for a bit longer, Peggy. You just need to hang on a few more minutes and then you can poo". "Shit, okay, it might be the only option. Come with me?" "Of course," Jemma said, ushering Peggy out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom, "would it help if I told you that you're not the only one with stained pants right now?" "What?" "I'm touching cloth," she explained simply. "I don't know if that helps or not, but I didn't realise you were that desperate," Peggy stammered. "Oh, yes. I may be small but my shits most certainly are not. And I feel like I'm about-" she held up two fingers very close together, " -this close to weeing in my knickers". Their voices grew more hushed as they approached the corridor where the bathroom stood. Jemma turned to Peggy, like a coach prepping an athlete for a big race. "Now, when we get out there, all you need to do is act natural and calm. Got it?" Peggy looked into Jemma's sincere, sweet eyes... and felt the front of her panties turn hot and wet. "Fuck, I just lost a squirt of wee," she whispered, "how can I act natural with wee and poo in my knickers?" "You have to try, Pegs," she insisted, "let's go". The moment she pulled Peggy around the corner and in sight of the other women, both girls knew they'd made a mistake. The line still stood five women long, meaning that even if every girl managed to do their business in two minutes the wait would simply be too long for Peggy to hang in. Peggy wanted to run away, hide back around the corner and go find somewhere else to empty herself, but that stopped being an option when Kamala looked up and noticed them both. Kamala also would have noticed that both women were utterly busting for the loo, meaning that if they left now it would be obvious that they hadn't made it. Peggy's natural instinct to appear the mistress of self-control kicked in, and she walked calmly towards the others, hoping she looked nonchalant. "Peggy, are you ok?" Natasha asked as she approached. Nat didn't look like she was doing too well herself, but certainly seemed to have a handle on things better than anyone else in the room. Peggy was determined to look just as composed, just as grown-up as Natasha, but every step was torture, and it took every fibre of her being to hold everything inside her, exhausting each muscle. She opened her mouth to reply- And shit her pants. It did not come out slowly. It came out all at once, like the shart had in the kitchen, filling her underwear at a terrifying rate. Within a second, she had utterly soiled herself, and could do nothing except bend over at the waist and let it happen. Peggy could feel the sheer messiness of it all, squishing and stretching and squirming out of the sides of her panties, sliding and slipping down her smooth thighs and towards her feet. At the same time, her bladder finally gave in and began to empty itself into her knickers. What began as a trickle quickly became a cascade that saturated the fabric of her clothes. She was dimly aware that six other women were staring at her having the accident to end all accidents, the biggest poo she'd ever done, which refused to be held back. Peggy's mouth formed a silent 'O', her eyes gazing without really seeing, bowels noisily evacuating into her clothes. She was confident that the whole room- no, most of the house- could hear what was happening in her butt at that moment, the sounds of wet farts muffled only by the liquids coming out after them. Her stomach continued to growl furiously even while her desperate need was abated, and she couldn't help feeling her piss and shit mixing in her underwear, melting together into something foul. She managed to get out the only words she could think to say: "Oh, shit, no," Peggy moaned, another rope of hot mess squirting out of her arse. Shuri, Kamala, Natasha, Maria, Jane- all of them watching, all of them seeing and understanding exactly what was going on as one of the most dignified, respectable women they knew completely soiled herself from both ends. When, finally, she was finished, nobody quite knew what to do or say. The sight of this beautiful lady standing before them in underwear soaked and heavy with poop, feet in a puddle of urine, was almost too much to handle. Eventually, it was Shuri who spoke. "Well, Peggy, I don't know if this makes you feel better," she said slowly, "but at least you weren't next in line". --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Several minutes later, drastic action was clearly in order. Peggy, sodden clothes clinging to her body, had been tearfully led away by Steve Rogers and Jemma to try and find some way to clean up. Tony had arrived with Steve, taken one look at the mess on his carpet and immediately called for some of his robotic creations to come and attempt to get the stains out of the floor. They were still there, scrubbing furiously, but Kamala privately felt that it wasn't going well. The smell alone suggested that those carpets would have to be replaced sooner rather than later. Not that Kamala was in any position to care too much; she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so desperate. A strange sensation had struck her, one she'd felt only a few times before in her life: the feeling of poop sticking part-way out of her butt, waiting there, barely being kept in. The head had emerged, despite her best efforts, while she had watched Peggy's accident, and now it seemed too far gone to be sucked back inside. She didn't want to move around too much lest it slip out, but knew that standing totally still would make the others take notice. All she could do was feel without using her hands and try to figure out just how bad things were. The log felt extremely thick, even by her standards, and she didn't doubt that it was a long one. This was the norm for Kamala Khan- her poops were almost always single-package affairs, and once they were out she was done. Therefore, the line between relief and humiliation for the young woman rested on whether she could win the battle with her buttcheeks and keep this turd inside of her. Beside her, her new friend Shuri didn't look confident either. She was openly squirming now, really struggling to hide just how desperate she was. Either way, Kamala was determined to hold on for as long as she could. She knew that the people around her saw her as just a kid, even with her powers. But she idolised some of these women, and it was so important not to let herself down in front of them. That anxiety only intensified when Carol Danvers, of all people, walked around the corner. Carol was the ultimate idol for Kamala, close enough to a goddess. Now, she was faced with the very real possibility of messing herself in front of Captain Marvel. She couldn't let that happen. Her fears were relaxed a tad, though, when she realised that Carol was perhaps even more desperate than she was. That simple thought was a real shock to Kamala's system. The woman she had held up as a personal hero, put on a pedestal, was here right in front of her- on the verge of an accident. It just didn't compute that someone so brave and powerful could do something so humiliating, so... childish. The stunning blonde had one hand pressed firmly into her crotch, and carried the scent of sweat and stale farts. It was the least Captain-Marvel smell imaginable. "Damn, so this is where the real party is, huh?" she asked dryly, trying to hide her urgent situation with humour. "Your sarcasm is appreciated, Danvers," Maria snapped back. Kamala thought that was a pretty brave way to talk to one of the most powerful beings in the universe, but Carol let it slide. "Who's in there?" she asked. "We still don't know," Natasha said in frustration. "Are you sure anyone's in there?" came a man's voice from down the corridor. Kamala turned her head to look and there was Tony Stark, a glass of whiskey in one hand, sunglasses now sitting on the top of his head. He gestured with his drink towards the robots on the floor, who were decidedly failing to remove Peggy Carter's runny mess. "Weapon-grade exoskeletons have never been much of a problem, but I see my domestic appliance design needs a little work". "What do you mean?" Nat questioned, keen to backtrack, "why would the door be locked if there's nobody in there?" "That door jams, from time to time," Tony told them as if it were obvious, "I told Pepper I fixed it a while back, but... well, I didn't". Considering how much alcohol Nat knew Tony had finished off already, she was impressed at how clear his words were. "So you're saying this whole time we've been waiting for nobody?" Jane, who had been silent up to now, suddenly seemed furious. "Uh, that'd be a yes. Sorry," he said insincerely, turning back towards the party, "I never liked this carpet much anyway- but that might be another thing not to tell Pepper". And with that, he was gone again, leaving a gaggle of stunned and desperate women in his wake. The noise that broke the silence was inevitable- another wet fart, this one maybe the worst yet, which rung out through the room and bounced off the walls. The surprising thing was the culprit- Shuri. Had she not just heard it with her own ears, smelt it with her own nose, Kamala would have found it hard to believe that such a small girl could produce a noise like that. But it had certainly been Shuri. "Sorry," she said awkwardly, "that was meant to be a silent one". Before anyone could react, a sharp gasp of anguish from Maria interrupted. All heads snapped in her direction, where they caught the agent in shock, staring down disbelievingly at the crotch of her jeans. The front was stained a dark shade- there was only one thing that made a stain like that. "Shit, I leaked," she groaned, sounding panicked. Ever helpful in a crisis, Natasha Romanoff jolted into action. "We need to get this door open right now," she ordered. But Kamala was amazed when she was the one Nat turned to. "Can you get us in there?" "E-easily," Kamala confirmed, "but what if someone really is in there?" Natasha wasn't in the mood for waiting around anymore. She rapped smartly on the door with her knuckles three times. "Alright, if anyone's in there, you'd better speak up now. We've got Ms Marvel out here ready to bust in". She waited, breath held, for a few seconds, but nobody was surprised at the lack of a response. "Ok, kid, you're up". Heart pounding, pride only slightly marred by the log that was still sticking out of her butt, Kamala waddled forward and slipped a long, stretched arm through the crack beneath the door. She reached up, fumbling for a second with the handle on the other side, but from that angle the door opened easily enough. With a click, she swung it agape and stepped aside. Maria, hands still buried in her crotch, stepped forward like she was escaping a prison. Kamala wanted to tell her to hurry, be as quick as she could before someone else lost control- but before she could summon the courage, the door had been locked and the muffled sound of Maria's zipper coming off was all that remained. "Ah, shit, I hope she's quick," Shuri grumbled, vocalising what everyone else had been thinking. "I hope you're all quick," Carol added, "I can't hang in much longer here- oh, crap!" she was almost doubled over, leaning against the wall with one hand. Kamala desperately wanted to help, but found herself powerless instead, unable to take her eyes away. She knew that any movement on her part could be enough to send that girthy log flying into her new panties. "How long do you have?" Nat asked, concerned once again. Danvers lifted her head and looked Natasha in the eyes. She was wearing an expression Kamala had seen a few times before- once on her mother, once on a classmate and once just a moment ago on the face of Peggy Carter. It was the look of a woman realising she was about to lose control. "Seconds," Carol gasped, "I just cramped up real bad and I can't move". It hurt Kamala to see her idol in that state, even if it was also deeply disconcerting. Was she really about to outlast someone that powerful? Nonetheless, she felt compelled to say something. "You got this, Captain," she offered feebly, "just a little longer and you can go". But even as she spoke, Kamala changed her mind. There was something in Carol's eyes that they'd never seen before- resignation. Carol had suffered enough, and now she had finally given up. "Sorry, kid," Carol muttered, "at least this is a cheap enough outfit". That was the last thing anybody could say before Carol lost control. With one final, nauseating cramp, she had no choice but to bare down and push out what she had been so desperate for. It came in waves- first the hot, near-liquid shit that flowed from her like a river, then the pee that exploded from her quivering pussy. The noise of it was graphic, almost gravelly, and left little to the imagination. As she watched on, Kamala was fascinated by the sight of the bulge that grew in her hero's pants, stretching and expanding the material until it looked almost like she had a diaper on underneath. "Oh God, I can't watch," Shuri cried, burying her face in Kamala's shoulder, "if I watch I'll poop myself too". Unlike Shuri, though, Kamala couldn't look away. This was the first time she'd ever really considered that someone like Carol could experience moments of such weakness- it was like watching a car crash. Carol couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze as she continued to fill her pants and soak her thighs. Even she, a woman who was known for her emotional control, looked more than a little embarrassed to be messing and wetting herself in front of two teenagers who were still holding on. Attempting to comfort Shuri, Kamala went to pat her on the back- but she was so engrossed by Carol's accident that she misjudged her movement and hit well below the waist. There was only hand-to-butt contact for a brief moment, well under a second, and yet... Kamala was sure she felt something hard, something sticking out from Shuri's backside. It looked like Kamala wasn't the only one touching cloth. It felt like several minutes before Carol was finally empty, even though Kamala knew it couldn't really have been so long. The smell that hung in the air was even worse than what Peggy had left, but at least this time there was no crying. In fact, once Carol's thunderous farts had calmed, the only noise left was of Natasha reminding Maria that she needed to hurry up. "I'm leaking out here, Maria," Widow called, doing what could only be described as a potty dance. Maybe it was her imagination, but Kamala couldn't help feeling as though the discovery of Shuri's turtlehead had made her own log inch out even further into her underwear, threatening more than ever to make an entrance onto the floor if she wasn't careful. But here, surrounded by her poop-coated idol, her closest friend in the building, the girlfriend of a Norse God and a supremely intimidating superspy, she couldn't afford to think like that. So instead, she turned her mind to how the others back at the party might be faring. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If Pepper had been able to concentrate on anything other than the horrible feeling in her stomach, she might have realised that things weren't adding up. She may have noticed that none of the men in the room seemed to be feeling anything strange at all, that only women were lined up outside the bathroom and looking pained on the dancefloor. She may even have considered that the party was just a few hours old, and that food poisoning takes around six to kick in. Instead, though, all she was thinking was I have to shit. What's more, nobody who she didn't already know was desperate even seemed to notice there was something up. Half of the party seemed to be going on as normal, like nothing was wrong at all. So all that was left for Pepper to do was hope beyond hope that she could keep the contents of her bowels inside. That was much easier said than done. More than a few times, she had considered heading back to the line and joining at the back while there was still time, but her better judgement told her that the hostess had a duty to stay with her guests as much as possible. Besides, what good would being in line do? To make matters worse, she'd been hearing some stories from Tony- something about Peggy Carter having diarrhoea on the carpet and some robots trying to wipe it off. It sounded crazy, but nothing was unbelievable tonight. Even though Pepper had never had much of a domestic instinct, a big part of her wanted to head over there just to see how bad the stain was. The walk really didn't sound appealing with the pressure in her butt. Pepper's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a commotion on the other side of the room. People were chattering, gathering, all moving towards one place. Needing to know what was going on, Pepper pushed forwards, through the crowd. Drinks were being spilled as everyone flocked to the source of the attention. Squeezing between Scott Lang and Clint Barton, she finally emerged at the edge of a semicircle, gathered helplessly around the main attraction. There, backed up against the wall, stood Melinda May. The first thing Pepper saw was May's anguished face, scrunched up in pain. May was one of the strongest people S.H.I.E.L.D. had, but here she looked close to tears. The second thing Pepper saw was the puddle on the floor. Even in the dim lighting of the party, the spotless white marble was still in plain sight- not that it was spotless, or even white, anymore. The area around May's heels was pure brown, a smooth, chocolatey colour. It was seeping wider and wider, running through the cracks in the tiles, spreading like wildfire. As she watched, more dribbled from the space between May's frozen thighs and spattered into the puddle with an audible splash. People were having to step back to avoid the liquid poop touching their shoes; someone at the front was almost too slow and leapt away a split second before it reached their feet. Cowering just behind May was poor Daisy, who didn't seem to know what to do with herself. Nobody could look away from the horror-show happening before their eyes, except to make sure that they weren't in danger of getting her poop on them. Everyone in the room was there, watching in awe- and certainly hearing as a murderously foul fart thundered from her backside. Pepper had seen enough. She couldn't allow the party to keep ogling this woman making a spectacle of herself. Despite the urgency of her own need reaching a painful high point, she knew that she needed to draw attention away. She ducked out and escaped to the space on the other side of the room. There were two people in the whole place not staring at May shitting herself, and Pepper wasn't surprised to see that they were Okoye and Nakia of Wakanda. The latter grabbed Pepper by the arm and pulled her aside, looking panicked. "What is happening?" she hissed, and Pepper noticed that she was clutching at her ass with one hand, "something is seriously wrong here". "I have no idea," Pepper insisted, "it has to have been the food, nothing else makes sense". "The food that everyone ate, no?" Okoye looked at her coldly- it was a strange contrast, Pepper thought, getting a death-stare from a woman who was clearly dying to take a dump, "so how come only the women are in this state?" "I don't know- we can't think about that," Pepper stammered. It was true, and they all knew it: they couldn't afford to focus on anything except making it to the bathroom. She stole a glance over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the crowd, which was still fixated on May, who was barely visible on the other side of the room. Another cramp paralysed her; something hot dribbled down the lips of her pussy and dampened her underwear. It was chaos. There was nothing she could do for May. Instead, she grabbed Okoye and Nakia on a wrist each and started walking. The only thing she could control now was how public her trauma would be. "Where are we going?" Nakia asked, trying not to look at May. "Somewhere nobody can see that happening to us," Pepper said. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nat knew that time was running out. Not just for her, but for everyone in the small cluster waiting impatiently outside the bathroom. Maria was still locked inside, showing no signs of getting any closer to finishing up. As Natasha pressed one ear against the door, she could make out the sounds of poop hitting the toilet water, the hiss of pee and muffled moans of relief from the woman inside. They weren't the only moans audible from her position, though: Shuri was struggling worse than anyone to keep in control of her body. After Carol had wandered off to clean up with Peggy, the poor girl had only grown more desperate. She'd admitted loudly that she had sharted at least once (which was more information that Natasha needed) and now stood nervously squeezing her cheeks together with both hands, dancing on the spot. Beside her, Kamala seemed just as uncomfortable, but was dealing with it very differently- she'd gone quiet and stood as still as a statue. Her stomach heaved with every breath, and she wasn't even trying to disguise her farts anymore. Like Kamala, Natasha was unbelievably gassy. It felt like every ten seconds another slipped out, each as warm and stinky as the last. Nobody seemed to mind anymore, and she didn't feel embarrassed in the slightest- whatever it took, that was her motto. And getting that gas out made keeping the solids in just that tiny bit easier. Someone who didn't seem to be finding it at all easy was Jane Foster. She had slid down the wall into a sitting position and now was slumped there, feet flat on the floor, knees whacking together over and over. Every time they opened and closed, Nat was sure she could see a wet spot the size of a golf ball on her jeans. Technically, Natasha was next in line, but she didn't think that she could bring herself to go before some of the women around her. Shuri and Kamala were barely more than children, for goodness sake- it would be wrong to get relief for herself while they stood outside, suffering and possibly even ruining their underwear. She was Black Widow, after all, supposedly one of the toughest warriors in the world- she could surely control her bowels for just a bit longer. And if she failed, well, at least she'd be safe in the knowledge that someone else had made it because of her selflessness. So, when the bathroom door finally clicked open and a relieved-looking Maria emerged, Natasha gestured to the two young women. "You guys can go ahead of me," she said. "Are you sure?" Kamala asked. "Yes, it's fine, just be quick. Who's first?" Shuri and Kamala looked at eachother anxiously. Both desperately wanted to get their butts on the toilet seat as soon as possible, but neither fancied pushing ahead of the other. And yet... Kamala remembered well the feeling of Shuri's log poking out of her tight hole, and understood that the Wakandan girl didn't have much time before the whole thing nestled in her panties. "Shuri, you go. It's okay". "No, I couldn't-" "You have to. I..." Kamala leaned in, knowing that she needed to persuade Shuri, and whispered in her ear, "I felt you sticking out down there a minute ago. Just hurry before it's too late". She saw Shuri's eyes go wide, realising that she had been caught out, and hurried into the bathroom. "That was brave of you, Kam," Natasha said, nodding in approval, "you sure you can hold it until she's done?" "No," Kamala said honestly, "but I'd rather poop myself than know I was the reason she did". ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ As soon as the bathroom door locked, Shuri's control started to leave her. She could feel her tight, toned cheeks opening up, her taut ring stretching and expanding as the knobbly log inched further and further out of her body. Before Shuri could even take another step, she had to make a snap decision. Up came the dress, down went her red panties. She noticed a faint dirty patch on the inside of the underwear as she slid them around her ankles, but there was no time to worry about that now. All she could think about was that she was in the process of pooping, standing up straight- three feet from the toilet. "No, fuck, no," she groaned, waddling gracelessly towards the loo, feeling the turd pushing itself out. Just a few more steps and she'd be there, but the fabric around her ankles made walking so much more difficult than it usually was. She had no more than a second to spare- the thickest part of the log was out now, and it had started to pick up pace on the way down. Shuri was standing right in front of the toilet when it happened. After holding in her shit for as long as she possibly could, her bowels had been beaten. The proximity to the toilet was too much for her body to stand. In one smooth motion, the biggest poop she'd ever done slipped out of her ass and landed squarely on the bathroom floor. Another log immediately lined up to take the place of the first. Powered now by sheer panic, Shuri started to turn so she could sit down. As her hips twisted, the other end gave up too, and pee started spraying from her pussy like a sprinkler. By some miracle, she heard a splash that indicated that the second turd had somehow landed in the toilet. Not willing to waste another second, she sat heavily on the porcelain and gasped in relief, finally emptying herself in earnest into the bowl. At some point, she looked down between her feet and saw the mess that had been made, saw the thick log on the floor, the shitstains in her nicest panties, the pee spattered on the floor. Later, I'll clean that up, Shuri promised herself. Later. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Oh, no," Kamala Khan moaned, not for the first time that night. It had been almost two minutes since Shuri had made it into the bathroom, and she needed to get out soon. Kamala forced out another huge fart, which was only wetter and louder than her last. Natasha looked at her in concern. "You okay?" she asked, knowing that the girl was certainly not okay. "Uh, kinda. You remember when I said I'd be fine if Shuri went first?" Kamala said. Nat nodded. "I was wrong," she confessed. "Wrong about what?" came a familiar voice. It was difficult for Kamala to describe the mixture of emotions that washed over her as she saw Carol Danvers round the corner and approach the three women left outside the bathroom. Carol was wearing the same top half as before, but her legs bore nothing but a pair of underwear that one could only assume was borrowed from Pepper. On one hand, it was a relief to see her idol back in the room- on the other, Kamala knew she was moments away from an accident, and didn't really want Carol in the audience when that happened. Sure, it was made a little easier by the fact that she'd seen Carol mess just minutes ago, but still- how humiliating. "She let Shuri in ahead of her," Natasha explained, filling Carol in. "And now I can't hold it in any longer," Kamala added. Only once she said it out loud did she realise how true it was. She was in the final seconds now, her stomach cramping more viciously than ever, starting to force that enormous log of hers out. Even as she spoke she felt it coming. There was nothing she could do to stop the shit from hitting the fan- or, in this case, her underwear. Carol took one look at the girl and understood exactly how much trouble she was in. She stepped closer to Kamala and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, kid, I couldn't hold it either. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you don't make it". Kamala's lips quivered like a child's. "Really?" she said slowly. "Of course, don't worry about it. Loads of girls are going home in ruined panties tonight. I don't think any less of you for it". "That's good, Captain. That's real good," Kamala whispered. "Why?" "Because I'm pooping in my pants right now". And she was. Ms Marvel was strong, but the desperate urge to take a dump had finally grown stronger. It had taken her over, battled and bruised her broken bowels and won. Now there was no way to hide it, no way to fight anymore. All at once, an incredible log stretched out her ass and filled her tight panties. If she hadn't been a polymorph, the sheer width of the thing would surely have done her hole damage. Instead, in front of the person she respected most in the world, the one thing that was always meant to go in the toilet was ending up in her panties. "I can't stop it," she choked, feeling tears welling up. Carol did something then that took everyone by surprise: she stepped forward and took Kamala in her arms, even as the poor girl was still relieving herself into her clothes. Behind Kamala, Jane Foster was gaping in awe at the size of the bulge that was tenting out from Kamala's butt- she'd never seen a poop anywhere near that big, and it was still growing. Eventually, blissfully, it broke away. Kamala buried her face in Carol's shoulder, sobbing gently, the earthy odour of shit hanging in the room. "Are you done?" Carol asked, not unkindly. "Yeah," Kamala managed between sobs, "I only ever do one bit, and it's all out". There was no going back now- Kamala Khan had just messed herself badly. But Carol knew exactly how it felt. She put an arm around the young woman's shoulder and began to walk her gently towards the other end of the corridor. "It's okay, hun, we all have accidents sometimes. Come with me- we'll get you cleaned up". ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even as Pepper yanked Nakia and Okoye into her office at the back of the mansion, she was acutely aware that she probably wasn't going to leave the room with clean underwear. It was hard to say what was worse: her bladder or her bowels. Pepper's head was spinning, asking herself the same question over and over again: how is this possible? But no answer came and now, here she stood, desperately waiting for the inevitable. As long as there was still a slim chance that she would make it out and get to a bathroom on time, she refused to give in- especially not in front of Okoye, who was still holding strong, doing her best to hide any signs that anything was wrong. Pepper leant back against her desk, feeling the hard edges of the wooden surface against her butt. This was a strategy she'd used before throughout her career, on those particularly busy days when she hadn't been able to find the time to visit the bathroom. By pressing her ass against the wood, it was almost as if her cheeks were being squeezed closed, forbidding anything from escaping. Almost. The trouble with these tactics was that it gave her no assistance on the front, where she was dribbling pee now with an alarming regularity. There was only one thing for it. "I'm sorry for being so forward, ladies, but I'm going to have to do this," she explained, and grabbed her crotch with one hand. It was beyond embarrassing to be squirming in front of two women she considered her equals while holding her bits like a little girl. Fortunately, that humiliation was abated somewhat by Nakia's reaction. Almost instantly, the Wakandan copied Pepper's movement, burying her palm between her thick thighs and moaning aloud. "I'm so glad you said that, I didn't want to be the only one," she said. Okoye was looking at them both with a mixture of disapproval and envy. Right now, Pepper couldn't care less what Okoye thought. Her judgement wasn't welcome at a time like this, when all three women were fighting serious battles with their bodies. Feeling a powerful fart coming on, Pepper leaned forward slightly and raised one cheek to let it out. Red-faced, she fanned the air around her butt in a vague attempt to do something about the smell. "Pepper, I'm in a lot of trouble," Nakia groaned, bouncing on the spot, "I don't have much longer". "So go," Okoye said bluntly. The other two women looked at her in amazement. "Just go in your clothes. I can see that it's essentially happening already". Nakia stared at her compatriot blankly. Deep inside, she knew Okoye was right. She could feel her shit pressurising, ready to escape. It was taking everything she had not to just let her ass erupt like a volcano. She knew that as soon as it started, there would be no stopping it- her bowels felt like a pressure cooker with an insecure lid. As she turned her head to look at Pepper, hoping to ask for some miracle solution, she realised that no words would come. Down there, between her thighs, it was starting. "I'm having an accident!" she cried out, trying to warn the other women. It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realised how dumb it sounded, how childish. Too late now, she thought dully. Pepper was shaking her head, lips tight. "You can't, Nakia, please. If you do then it'll be too much for me," "I can't stop it, Pepper-" "You have to, or I'll lose it too. Seeing people go always makes me need to go, ever since I was a kid," Pepper begged, "please hold on". Nakia just looked at her with sad, wide eyes, and in that instant Pepper understood that it was over. The beautiful Wakandan lady removed her hands from her crotch in pure resignation- her crotch was already gleaming with the wetness of her first leaks. As Pepper and Okoye watched on in horror, a trickle escaped out of the bottom of that purple dress, running down her left ankle and into her shoe. In the moonlight coming through the window, it was as bright and visible as blood. "I'm sorry!" Nakia wailed, "it's happening- oh, shit-" At the instant she said that word, shit, the shit made its inevitable entrance. In the stunned silence of the trio of women, there was no sound that could mask the explosion of wet mess that came. It sounded like a bucket of sewage being tossed over a tarpaulin. It happened all at once, a water balloon popping inside her underwear. If not for that sound, the first Pepper would have known about the accident was the sight of brown slime splattering against her pristine office carpet, turning the sandy fabric a deep, murky shade. Her prediction had come true: the sight of Nakia losing control was setting her own desperation into it's final stage. She had no time to waste if there was any chance she might make it to the toilet. Her head was gone. There was no chance of thinking straight. Without a word, Pepper pushed past Nakia and opened her office door. It was too late to turn back. Her accident- no, accidents- were starting and all she could do was get to the bathroom as quickly as possible and hope that by some miracle the line was gone. But the second she stepped into the party room, she realised how big a mistake she had made. It had been foolish, so optimistic, to think that she might make it in time. Once her control had abandoned her back in the office she had had a matter of seconds to make it to the bathroom, not minutes as she had prayed. In her hurry, she tripped on the edge of a rug and went sprawling. The noise alerted the crowd, who forgot all about May and turned to their hostess, lying spread-eagled on the ground. Some of them noticed as early as that moment that something was wrong. A few near the front of the pack might even have spotted the growing brown bulge on the back of Pepper's otherwise spotless jumpsuit, but the woman herself had been stunned by the fall and adrenaline had taken over. That was why it wasn't until Pepper was getting groggily to her feet that she realised what was happening. After half an hour of denial, of squirming and writhing, grabbing and squeezing and praying, Pepper Potts was soiling herself. She went to run away and found that she couldn't. The solid mass emerging from her pert bottom was like an anchor rooting her in place- or perhaps it was the fear that was freezing her legs. Behind her, the bulge kept expanding, pushing. She felt her panties reach their stretch limit and the poop begin to squish outwards to fit itself in. It crept up her back, around her thighs, between her legs and towards her pussy. Her bladder still ached, but as she came to her senses Pepper became dimly aware that she was pissing too now, unable as ever to poop without peeing. It was this accident that was the most visible to the guests in front of her, cascading down her legs and pooling around her feet. Her feet! Pepper jumped at the thought. These shoes were too expensive to be coated in her own piss. She leapt aside and it struck her that she could move her legs again, now that most of her shit was out there. A quick look at the crowd was all it took to scare her into action. Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Scott Lang. Countless more she recognised and a few she didn't- a man with long, black hair, a Wakandan friend of Nakia's- but all men. The one that hit her hardest was Peter Parker, cowering at the back of the room, looking mortified for her. Unable to stand the stares any longer, Pepper turned and fled, using one hand to keep her mess from falling out and hitting the floor. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There weren't many rooms in the house which would be suitable for changing a teenager with a giant load in her pants, but Tony's study was probably the best thing available. And so that was where Carol took Kamala, leading the tearful girl down the steps with a gentle arm. "Okay, don't worry, kid. We're gonna clean you up and it'll be like nothing ever happened, right?" Kamala nodded at this, but she didn't look like she really believed it. "How much did you do?" "Just- just one bit," Kamala muttered, clearly mortified to be asked such a graphic question. "Just one?" Carol glanced down again at the enormous bulge, which looked to her eyes like at least three Carol-sized turds, "are you sure?" "I'm s-sure. It's always just one," Kamala blushed. "Okay, well, that shouldn't be too bad. We find a place to dump your log, grab you some clean panties and you'll be as good as new". It occurred to Kamala then that Carol didn't realise she was still desperate to piss. And why should she? After all, Kamala had been far too shy to tell her idol that she had to go number one. It was bad enough messing herself in front of Carol. Now, it was abundantly clear that Carol needed to know that Kamala was a few moments away from wetting herself. And yet the words just wouldn't come. She couldn't bring herself to tell this gorgeous, strong blonde that she was about to have a second accident. Kamala didn't mind talking about it with someone like Shuri, but around adults like Carol she just felt too shy. Maybe if I just hold it in... Even as she was thinking it, Kamala knew that it was an incredibly unlikely scenario. In the time it would take to dispose of the shit in her panties, find a clean pair and get back to the bathroom, she would surely lose control. Before she could find the courage to suck it up and tell Carol the truth, though, the woman picked up a discarded cardboard shoebox she had spotted on the floor. "Here! Perfect. Just empty it out into this, and we stick it in the trash. Nobody will ever notice". "Are you sure?" Kamala asked dubiously. Using Mr. Stark's boxes as secondary toilets seemed borderline rude, even if the situation was desperate. "Yeah, why not?" It was too tempting to pass up. Kamala didn't want to take another step with that heavy load between her legs, especially as she was starting to worry that it might come into contact with her crotch. So she took the shoebox from Carol's outstretched hand and placed it between her legs, squatting down awkwardly. "You don't have to be here for this," Kamala said. But Carol gave her a look of the most sincere care that she felt suddenly calmer. "Don't worry about it, Kamala. I know how it feels not to make it". Kamala peeled off her jeans and watched as the enormous log toppled into the shoebox. It was almost as long as it's container and at least an inch thick. Kamala stood up, pulling up her bottoms, and realised that Carol was staring at the turd. "Christ, it's a good thing you're so..." "Stretchy?" Kamala suggested. "Yeah". They headed upstairs, closed shoebox in hand. Pepper and Tony's bedroom was on the right- Carol had already been there once before, to find spare panties for herself earlier. As she fished through Pepper's underwear drawer in search of something that would fit Kamala, the young woman stood quietly in the corner, bobbing up and down anxiously. She really had to pee, but didn't want to squirm in front of her hero. She just couldn't admit it now- it was too late. Instead she contented herself with sneaking quick squeezes of her pussy behind Carol's back, crossing one leg over the other every few seconds. The desperate urge to piss had snowballed into a peak since she'd lost her bowel control, and now it was about to be released. "Kamala?" Carol asked quietly. Kamala froze. It was a tone that reminded her of her mother after she'd caught her daughter doing something bad. "Yes?" she croaked. "You know I've been able to see you in this mirror the whole time, right?" Kamala froze. Her life was over. Her biggest idol had been watching her squirm and dance and grab her vagina like a baby for damn near a minute and she'd had no idea. Carol turned slowly towards Kamala, holding a lacy pair of pink underwear in one hand. She shut the drawer behind her and approached the speechless girl. "Why didn't you tell me you had to pee so bad?" "I'm sorry! I was too embarrassed and-" Carol stepped forwards and shushed her with a finger on her lips. "No time to talk about it, you look like you're about to burst. Just put these in your pocket and let's get downstairs, okay?" Kamala nodded miserably, taking the spare underwear in her pocket. Wordlessly, both women understood that there was no point in Kamala changing up here- not if she was likely to piss herself before she got to the bathroom. When they had completed the agonising trip back down the stairs and towards the toilet, all Kamala could do was pray that there would be nobody in the bathroom when she got there. She should've known better than to hope for the best- the door was still locked shut, and now just Natasha and Jane Foster stood outside. Before either had spotted Kamala and Carol, Jane swore loudly. She didn't look good- Thor's girlfriend was doubled over, both hands wedged between her crotch so high up it was surprising they weren't inside of her. "Fuck, I just leaked again. A lot," Jane moaned, but she quietened down quickly when she saw Kamala approaching. Nat turned- as well as she could with her legs twisted together like a pretzel- and saw a half-naked Carol Danvers and a humiliated Kamala Khan. "Kamala, hey. You ok?" Nat asked kindly. Kamala wanted to stutter out a response, but couldn't bring herself to tell yet another personal hero the truth. Carol explained for her. "The poop is in here-" she held up the closed shoebox- "and the kid is bursting to pee". "Ah," Natasha said, "well, Shuri just said she only needs another few seconds. She should be out-" the door latch clicked open and a mortified, but very relieved, Shuri emerged, "- any second now". But Kamala hadn't so much as started moving towards the bathroom before Jane Foster sprinted in front of her. For a sweet second, she could see the toilet, glimmering beautifully. She could see relief, picture herself unleashing that pent-up stream onto the porcelain. All that was gone the moment Jane entered the room. She turned briefly to Natasha and Kamala, who felt betrayed beyond belief. "I'm sorry, ladies, but I'm peeing myself right now," she panted, and shut the door. "No!" Kamala yelled into the wall. She turned to Carol, tears in her eyes. "That's it. She's screwed me," she whined, backing up towards the wall. "I'm screwed," she repeated, panic rising. She could feel the pee beginning to trickle out at long last- that sighting of the toilet had activated some signal in her brain that had told her bladder to let loose. "Oh, crap, please... it's happening". In the final seconds before she lost all control, Kamala looked desperately around at the women in the hallway. Shuri, looking like she wanted so badly to help but couldn't. Natasha, grabbing her butt with one hand and her crotch with the other. Carol, watching with sympathetic eyes. "You almost made it, kid," Carol said quietly, "it's okay". Kamala began to pee her pants. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The kitchen had only grown darker by the time Jemma stumbled back in to the emptiness. Just twenty minutes ago she had been here with Peggy, watching her compatriot on the brink of an unstoppable accident. Since then she'd wandered the building, looking for anywhere- anywhere at all- that she could go. But there was nowhere suitable, or at least nowhere quiet enough. She'd come extremely close to having a poo in a shoebox in Tony's study but the sound of footsteps had startled her and she'd dashed off before anyone caught her. Now here she was, back where she'd started, just glad above all else to have somewhere private to squirm and dance. And that was certainly what she was doing, not that she would have been able to stand still if she tried. There was more than one wet spot on the front of her knickers and she was convinced the back wasn't clean either. As she stood, something that could only be described as a 'double-breach' escaped: a painful fart shot out of her bum, and the force of it caused a spurt of strong-smelling pee to squirt from her vagina and into the crotch of her pants. She had had desperate days before, in the labs or working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but this was a new level- and weeing in a swimming pool wasn't an option this time. The advantage of blissful privacy was always short-lived, and before very long at all Jemma heard footsteps behind her. She wasn't looking forward to turning around. She could deal with Peggy seeing her in this state, but someone like May or Carol was another matter entirely. It was a huge relief to see the familiar face of Daisy Johnson slipping into the room. It was even more of a relief that she looked just as busting as Jemma. Right hand jammed in her crotch, the woman they sometimes called Quake gave a sheepish grin that barely disguised the discomfort in her eyes. "How are you holding up?" she asked. In response, Jemma simply turned around and gave the other woman a perfect view of the shining wet patch on her crotch. "I think this answers your question," Jemma said, gesturing towards the indigo stain across her once light trousers. Daisy managed to remove her own hand for long enough to show Jemma a near-identical patch on her own clothes. "We match!" she said dryly. The opening exchange had done plenty to break the ice, and now Daisy was moving closer to the centre of the room, closer to Jemma. In other circumstances she would have been deeply embarrassed that this super-powered lady was in a room that undoubtedly stunk of farts, but tonight? Tonight it was going to take a lot more than usual to embarrass Jemma. She'd already received word by text that Pepper and at least two others hadn't made it. She'd watched as poor Peggy went to the toilet in her clothes and watched more closely than she cared to admit as Steve Rogers did his best to clean her up. A few stale farts were nothing compared to that. "And how about... you know..." "The other end?" Jemma suggested brightly, and Daisy nodded. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours". Daisy whirled around obediently, showing off a noticeable bulge on the seat of her pants. Jemma's jaw dropped at the sight of it. "Is that..." she stammered, struggling to believe that Daisy hadn't shit herself yet. "Not yet," Daisy breathed, "it's poking out but I'm still hanging on, just. I really need to get to the bathroom right now, though". "Fat chance of that happening," Jemma muttered, "I popped my head around the corner a minute ago, nobody saw me but the line is still there. Jane and Natasha, and it looks like Kamala's back too. And Carol wasn't wearing any trousers, but let's ignore that for now- ooh!" The noise that had cut off her sentence was one of serious pain- yet another cramp had seized her, grabbed her hard by the sides and squeezed. Everything but her self-respect was fighting to push her poo out. "You don't look good, Jem, are you going to be okay?" "I don't feel good," Jemma felt like she was surely stating the obvious, "It's gonna come out soon at both ends if something miraculous doesn't happen". "Well... I showed you mine..." Daisy teased. "Fine! A deal is a deal". Jemma sighed and twisted on the spot. Rising from her smooth bottom, accentuated under tight fabric, was a tiny tent where she was touching cloth. It wasn't as defined as Daisy's, but still enough to suggest that she was also in serious need of a bathroom. It felt good, weirdly, to be sharing these things with Daisy. It made Jemma feel a lot less shy and a lot less alone. At once, an idea struck her and she recklessly decided to roll with it- in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. "Speaking of bulges..." She turned back towards Quake and lifted her top. Daisy gasped audibly. The incredible volume of pee that Jemma was barely holding in was causing her stomach to stretch out immensely. If Daisy didn't know, she would have guessed that Jemma was a few months pregnant. "My God, Jemma, that's huge- it can't be safe walking around like that!" she spluttered. Dancing from side to side, Jemma shook her head. "Probably not, but I don't have another choice!" "Pee your pants! That's your other choice. You're gonna get hurt!" Daisy cried. It was a lot harder, Jemma reflected, to take medical advice seriously when it came from a woman who was farting several times a minute. "I can't just wee myself if I want to be taken seriously by Tony Stark," Jemma pointed out, "And besides, you're one to talk, with a poo the size of a microwave sticking out your bum". Daisy saw her point; she backed off a little. "You're right, you're right, of course. I just don't want you injuring yourself". "Nor you, mate," Jemma said. "I don't think it's just this, either," Daisy said grimly, "I think this bit is acting a plug and there's gonna be some sort of runny explosion once it's out- too much information?" she asked, because Jemma was pulling a face. "Hmm? Oh, no, share away... it's just- I don't think I can do this much longer," "Pee or poop?" Daisy asked. "Both!" "Which one more?" "Probably poo," Jemma admitted after some thought. She was eyeing up the sink again, the one she and Peggy had playfully suggested using earlier- only this time it wasn't a joke. She would do anything to avoid messing herself. Daisy had followed her gaze- she was far too smart not to figure out what was happening. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Daisy asked slowly. "It might be the only way..." "No, I agree," she sighed, "I'm not happy about it but we're out of options here". Jemma looked longingly at the shimmering silver sink. Was she seriously considering going to the loo in it? A churning in her stomach gave her the answer- yes, yes she was, because that was a feeling she'd felt before. It was a signal that meant she had no more than a couple of minutes to get to the bathroom before, ready or not, she would go to the bathroom. But there was still something holding her back, one last bit of inhibition. Maybe if she could see someone else do it first, she wouldn't be so self-concious. "You go first," she said decisively. "Are you sure?" Daisy said, sounding secretly grateful but not wanting to be too eager, "I think I can hold it for another minute or so if you want to go first". "Just go, I promise I don't mind," Jemma insisted. "Ok, thank fuck you said that," Daisy moaned, moving towards the sink and already wrestling with her buttons, "because I was lying about being able to hold it". ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jane couldn't even hang on long enough to get the door locked. The second she was safely out of sight of the other women, her bladder simply gave up. She didn't know whether it was the proximity to the toilet that had done it, or the knowledge that nobody could see her anymore, or perhaps her long-suffering muscles had finally had enough. Whatever the reason, her jeans were already getting a soaking by the time the latch was sealed. "Fuck, no, not again," she muttered under her breath, wrestling with her zipper. It was warm and slippery, and she didn't need to be a scientist to figure out that the lubricant was her own piss. She had to look at her crotch to try and get the zip down, but Jane really would have preferred to be looking anywhere else in the room. It wasn't a pretty sight. The wet patch was spreading like wildfire, drenching the fabric around her thighs, knees and ankles easily. She was sure that her butt was taking a similar soaking, By the time the zipper eventually came undone, it was far too late- at least a third of her bladder capacity was currently running down her legs and pooling on the bathroom floor. In one last desperate push to salvage some self-respect, Jane tried her best to clamp off the flow long enough to transition from standing to sitting on the toilet, but it was no good. Her pee had been dying to come out for so long, and now it refused to be stopped, even for a few seconds. Unwilling to waste any more time wetting everything from her toenails to her pubic hair, she aggressively tore down the jeans and spun to sit on the toilet. As predicted, some sprayed out of her suddenly-bare pussy and went everywhere before she could be seated. In that mad flash of panic, Jane saw drops of her own liquid gold on the floor, the walls and the toilet seat. On another day the humiliation would have killed her. None of that mattered as soon as her bare butt hit the plastic seat. From the moment she finally gave herself permission to let it out, Jane couldn't care less about the tiles; all she cared about was that she was finally able to relieve herself. She'd never been so desperate in her life before, and while she hadn't exactly made it, getting at least some of the pee in the toilet felt like a minor victory. Later, she'd feel terrible about the way she'd cut in front of poor Natasha and Kamala, but now she was concerned about only two things: one was her ruined clothes, and the other was the astonishing feeling of near-orgasmic pleasure she felt from the relief of finally peeing. The sound of her piss hitting the water in the bowl wasn't getting any softer- she still felt mostly full. The room smelt faintly of shit, which she guessed Shuri could explain. She may not have made it to the bathroom in time, but Jane Foster had managed not to completely embarrass herself in front of the others, and that counted for something. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  6. This is an MCU fanfic written as a commission. It's set in an alternative timeline where Thanos's invasion and the snap doesn't happen, and it's a few years after Black Panther, so Shuri is an adult. Enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There weren't many restaurants in New York that could comfortably seat a party of sixteen adults around one table, but Le Désespoir was one of them. Tucked away just south of what had once been been Stark Tower, it was the kind of place that was always packed- and this Saturday afternoon was no different. Every table was rammed full of customers, all eager to try some of the most coveted food in the city. Hundreds of diners crowded the eatery, buzzing with conversation. The women, gathered socially to celebrate Pepper Potts' birthday, weren't all huge fans of busy restaurants. But it was a favourite of Miss Potts, who was the perfect host as one of the few locals present, and so they had booked for lunch at Le Dés. As three 'o' clock ticked around, the group were finishing their entrées around the biggest table available, which was spread across much of the back of the room. Pepper herself sat at one end, sipping red wine in a wine-red dress. To her left, Hope van Dyne was deep in conversation about technology with Shuri, who was waving her arms animatedly as a wide-eyed Mantis listened in. Opposite, meanwhile, Carol Danvers was smirking at some joke she'd just heard from Valkyrie, who seemed to be sitting a little closer than her chair had been when they arrived. Neither noticed the watchful eye of Okoye, who was sitting quietly, observantly, watching the meal unfold and speaking only occasionally. Maria Hill was also more than a little quiet, content to simply take in the more flamboyant personalities around her. The S.H.I.E.L.D agents (not that any of them looked much like agents in their casual getup) she'd invited with Pepper's permission weren't quite so passive; Melinda May and Daisy Johnson were engrossed in some chat while Jemma Simmons explained a joke to a baffled Nebula. Gamora was sitting across from her sister, making polite conversation with Peggy Carter- neither of them understood much about 21st Century American life, so they had plenty to talk about. Completing the scene was Wanda Maximoff- who, in jeans and a red hoodie, clearly hadn't gotten the 'dress smart' memo- and Natasha Romanoff, who sat all the way opposite Pepper, looking formidable as always. The meal had been wonderful, if expensive- but no sooner had the dessert orders been taken than things started to go wrong. Mantis, who was still absolutely fascinated by Shuri's explanations of Wakandan science, began to feel something strange in her stomach. This was more than odd for Mantis, who was used to strange feelings, but not when she wasn't touching anyone. This sensation wasn't unlike that of reading Peter Quill- dark, heavy, like a storm brewing. But he was nowhere to be seen. This feeling was coming from... inside of her. It pulled her focus away from the conversation, and she turned to Nebula, one of the few people around the table whom she knew well. "I feel strange," she said quietly, hoping nobody else around the table could hear. She preferred to stay away from the centre of attention. "Strange? How so?" Nebula asked, puzzled. "In my stomach. It feels heavy," she clarified. "Yes, I feel it too. I do no know why. I will ask Gamora," Nebula decided, turning to her ivy-skinned sister. "Sister, Nebula and I are experiencing strange feelings in our stomachs. Do you know the cause of this?" Gamora looked concerned. "Yeah, I have that too. I thought it was just me. God, I don't know if that's worrying or reassuring," she muttered. "What does it mean?" Mantis asked curiously. "I assumed I just ate too much, but if you feel it too it's probably food poisoning," she took one look at Mantis's confused stare and added, "it means you're gonna need to go to the bathroom soon, and a lot, and it's not gonna be fun". "Well, let's go!" Mantis said, starting to get to her feet, but Gamora quickly stopped her. "We're the only three here any of us know well, and I feel like some people still don't trust us yet," she explained, "It will look suspicious if we all go to the bathroom together. Let's try and figure out if anyone else is feeling it too". Nebula had never been an expert at reading emotions, but even a quick scan across the table was enough for her to deduce that they were not the only ones feeling off. Natasha looked tight-lipped and distracted, Valkyrie and Carol had stopped their flirtatious back-and-forth and Jemma was nervously sipping her water. Even Okoye was clearly uncomfortable- the usually emotionless warrior was shifting in her seat. Just as Nebula was about to say that she didn't think it was just them feeling ill, a noise came from her right, sounding like something she'd heard from Peter and Drax hundreds of times- a fart. Immediately, almost every head around the table whipped around to look at the area where the sound had originated. Although Nebula and Mantis weren't close enough to know who exactly was the guilty party, it was clear from a glance what the source had been. Hope and Pepper were staring directly at young Shuri, who looked mortified. "I moved my chair," she babbled quickly, knowing nobody was buying it, "it must've rubbed against the floor". "On a carpet?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow, but Valkyrie shushed her lovingly. "Better out than in," the Asgardian said, "where I come from, farting is respected. It means you ate well". At the other end, the S.H.I.E.L.D agents were craning their necks to figure out what had happened. Helpfully, Carol offered an explanation. "Shuri farted," she told them. "I didn't," the teenager began to say, but quickly gave up- she knew that everyone had heard it. Five metres away, though, May leant in towards Daisy and spoke in a hushed voice. "That reminds me- I have to use the bathroom before the desert comes. Watch my drink?" "Sure, but can't it wait until the meal finishes?" "No, sorry, I think I ate something bad. I really have to go," May said quickly, getting up from her seat. As she started to move, she was interrupted by Peggy, who looked anxious about something. "Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing- did you say you ate something bad?" the Englishwoman said. "Yeah, feels like my stomach is cramping- why?" "I'll come too," Peggy said, blushing, "I feel the same". Next to her, Gamora had overheard the entire exchange. That meant that herself, Nebula, Mantis, Peggy and May all needed to use the bathroom, and likely Shuri too, from the wet sound of that fart. Something needed to be said by someone, and since she was the only one who seemed to have pieced it all together so far, it might as well be Gamora. She cleared her throat, brushed her dark hair away from her face and spoke up. "Okay, everyone, I know this is a bit of a personal question, but does anyone else need to go to the bathroom?" she said, hoping she wasn't imagining things. But the dozen concerned looks she was met with told her that she had been right- they were all feeling it. "I do," said Wanda from the end of the table. Beside her, Natasha nodded in agreement. "Yes, me too," said Shuri, to nobody's surprise. "And me," Maria confessed. There was a shocked silence settling over the group. Through the quiet, everyone could hear Pepper Potts' stomach grumble loudly. It sounded like a sound effect from some kind of movie, but the panic in her eyes told Gamora that it was very, very real. Pepper placed one hand on her disquiet belly. "I have to go too," she whispered, looking straight at Gamora, "which means..." "Food poisoning?" Gamora asked. "Food poisoning," Pepper agreed. "What does that mean?" Nebula said, her voice weak. Her voice was rarely anything even approaching weak, but she was deeply uneasy, and the feeling in her body was growing stronger by the second. The stench of Shuri's fart was still in the air. "It means we're in trouble," said Natasha simply. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Alright, let's not panic," Pepper said, taking charge as hostess, "We'll be fine if we organise this". She looked around the table, trying to assess the damage so far. "Now obviously, we can't all go to the bathroom at the same time. So whoever's most in need can go first and the rest of us will wait here". Some of the women nodded at this, but Wanda spoke up. "How are we supposed to decide who is most in need?" she pointed out. This had Pepper stumped for a few seconds, but she came back with the best idea she could think of. "It's only fair that I stay here," she said, even though her stomach was telling her she couldn't afford to wait, "as the hostess. And I'm sure a few others can hold it for another fifteen minutes"." "I'll wait too," said Natasha, "any spy worth their salt can hold it for at least a little while". "Do we get to go sooner if we have to pee as well?" Shuri asked shyly. "Yeah, actually, I'd like to get in on that," Maria said, squirming slightly in her seat, "I drank a lot of wine with lunch". Pepper sighed. "Sure, okay, that sounds fair, although I have to pee too. Whatever, I'll stay here. Shuri, Maria, you go with Peggy and May to the bathroom". "Actually, I'm gonna go too," Carol announced, pushing her chair away from the table, "I'm getting desperate and I really don't wanna shit in this dress". Valkyrie tugged her back, though, and was met with a shocked expression from Carol. "If I'm staying here you have to as well," the Asgardian ordered, "it'll be fun, I promise". Carol didn't look happy about this at all, but sat back down. Jemma took that as her signal to rise from her seat as well. "I'll go with them too, if that's alright," she said shyly. Her thighs were locked together- clearly she had to use the bathroom pretty badly, but she looked determined to appear composed. Pepper knew that the agent was more reserved than some of the others around the table, so she nodded her consent. Blushing, Jemma turned to Daisy, the only person still seated who she felt truly comfortable around. "Come with me, Daisy?" "No, it's okay," Daisy said, "I don't have to go that bad, and I peed, like, an hour ago". But the look in Jemma's eyes made it clear that she was asking Daisy to come because she needed someone to talk to, so she got to her feet and joined the others. The last to speak up was Nebula. "I would also like to go to the bathroom. I don't feel good. Mantis can come with me," she offered, standing with her legs firmly crossed. Nebula may not have had food poisoning before, but she knew how it felt to need to pee, and right now she needed to pee badly. The blue-skinned woman turned to Gamora. "I need to urinate and defecate very soon. You can come with us, sister," she seemed utterly unaware that her language was bewildering the others in the room. Gamora, for her part, sorely wanted to take up Nebula's offer. The urge to poop had grown very powerful very quickly, as was always the way when she got food poisoning. Within minutes, she had gone from feeling great to being in dire need of a toilet- and she suspected that everyone else felt the same. But she was supposed to be the greatest warrior in the galaxy, one of the most skilled fighters and sharpest minds alive. She must not disappoint the others. If humans with no powers like Pepper Potts and Black Widow could hold it, so could she. She forced a fake smile for her sister and friend, hoping nobody heard a small, hot fart slip out between her green cheeks as she spoke. "Don't worry about me, sister, I'll hold it in with the others". From her seat, Okoye watched as Shuri, Nebula, Mantis and the five S.H.I.E.L.D. agents made a beeline for the bathroom. She knew that she should go too to keep an eye on the princess, but if she got up there would be a chance that her actions could be misinterpreted as a need to use the toilet. Well... Okoye did need to use the toilet- in fact, she was desperate- but there was no chance she would show it to anyone else. Displaying that kind of weakness was absolutely unacceptable. Throughout her hundreds of hours spent guarding the king, she had no room to appear weak. There had been plenty of times when she'd almost had an accident, and once she had been forced to urinate in her armour, but nobody had ever found out and she was hellbent on keeping it that way. So Okoye stayed, along with Potts, the Asgardian, the green lady and the four 'heroes'- the famous Captain Marvel, Black Widow, Wasp and Scarlet Witch. Well, Okoye thought grimly as her stomach gurgled and a fart tried to force its way out of her tightly-clenched bottom, let's see how good our control really is. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was only one women's bathroom in the restaurant, a small room with a single toilet that sat hidden in one corner. When Maria Hill reached for the door, one hand massaging her aching stomach, she already knew it was going to be locked. One small jerk of the handle, which barely moved, confirmed her suspicions and she turned to May, who was hot on her heels. "Locked," she said exasperatedly. May swore out loud, then turned to pass the message on to the rest of the women. For her part, Agent Hill had never felt so out of control. In her time as one of Nick Fury's most trusted colleagues, Maria had grown accustomed to being in charge of people and knowing exactly what was going on. And yet here she was, with no idea whether she would get on that toilet before she lost her grip on her bladder, bowels or both. Behind May, who was barely maintaining the facade of composure, Shuri was squirming restlessly in some urgent potty-dance. The Wakandan looked even more un-princesslike than ever, with one palm jammed in her crotch- at least Maria wasn't the only one bursting to pee. Next in line stood Peggy Carter, legs crossed, panic in her eyes. The agent had never failed to make it to the toilet- not in her old life in England, nor here in modern America. She had been a master of control. What on earth has happened to me? she thought dully as she gave in to the urge to grab her pale bum with one hand. Her iron grip helped a touch, but only because she was forcing her cheeks closed, and that wasn't going to last long. Part of her was dying to let out some gas, just to relieve the pressure, but she told herself firmly that farting was just not ladylike. Peggy had always felt a great shame about her bodily functions- even all those years ago, during the war, when she had been forced to excuse herself to use the bathroom in front of Steve. The memory still haunted her. She had to hang on. Nebula wasn't faring any better- in fact, she was fairing worse. She'd never had to use the bathroom so badly in her life, and the potted plant a few metres away was looking more appealing by the second. This food poisoning thing Gamora had mentioned did not feel good at all- her faeces felt hot and wet inside her, unlike the firmer logs she was used to. She turned to Mantis, who was next in line, and told her this, hoping the alien woman would be able to shed some light. But Mantis looked far too distracted with her own bodily needs to offer much insight. "I don't know, Nebula. Maybe it's just how the poisoning works. And Gamora said to stop calling it faeces," she added, "she says Earth people find it weird". "So what should I call my faeces?" "Poop," Mantis reiterated patiently. "Or just poo," Peggy interrupted. "Or shit," Daisy added. She was standing right at the back of the line, looking as though she was handling things slightly better than most. Poor Jemma was between Mantis and Daisy, and she didn't look good at all. The brunette was red in the face, bent over low, totally unable to stand still. Every second or so she would shift her weight to the opposite foot; her hand squeezed her pussy even harder than Shuri was doing up the line. Mantis knew she should let the biochemist go in front of her, but that could be the difference between Mantis making it to the bathroom and not, so she selfishly persuaded herself to stay quiet. Daisy really had to go herself, but even she was concerned by the noises coming from her friend's belly, and knew she needed to be comforting in this moment. "It'll be ok, Jemma," she said soothingly, putting a hand on the other woman's back. "No, Daisy, it won't," Jemma replied, almost sobbing, "I've never needed to poop this bad before and I've barely ever had to pee so much either. I feel like I'm going to explode". "I know how you feel," Daisy told her, trying to make her feel better, "this is probably too much information but I think I'm almost touching cloth". This earned a small smile from Jemma despite her throbbing desperation. "I wish I didn't have so much farting anxiety, getting out some of this gas might make me feel a bit better". "Yeah, me too. I'm scared if I try and fart it might be... more than a fart". Mantis had overheard this little conversation, and it gave her an idea. Being in a team with three men, she had heard countless farts. When she'd asked Drax about it, he had simply told her it felt good to get them out. Mantis had discovered that she didn't usually need to fart like humans did, but when she had to poop they could help relieve the pressure. She decided that risking it was necessary. She was incredibly shy about farting in front of people, but her plan was to let out just a small one that nobody could hear. As soon as it happened, Mantis knew she'd made a big mistake. The fart wasn't quiet at all- in her eagerness to get some of the hot gas out of her, she'd let it go too fast, and the familiar sound crackled loudly as it escaped her tight butt. Once it had started, it wouldn't stop. Despite her furious attempts to shut off the fart before it turned into something more, her muscles were too weak and the gas only stopped coming when a heavy log shifted closer to her hole, blocking the path. The sound of Mantis' fart was too much for Shuri. She'd been desperate to let out another of her own ever since standing up. Until that point, the only thing stopping her had been fear of humiliation. After all, it had been she who had let the first lapse of control beat her, a noise that had slipped out as they all slipped around the table. Shuri knew that another fart would be more embarrassment than she could bear, but hearing Mantis's ass rumble triggered something in Shuri's bowels that wouldn't be suppressed. Before she could do anything about it, something slipped out of the Wakandan's butt- something more than gas. It was wet. Cheeks burning, Shuri looked around her frantically. Blissfully, nobody had noticed- nobody except May, who was looking right at her. "Don't worry, kid, happens all the time," May reassured her. Shuri slipped a hand down the back of her jeans, terrified of what she might find. But just a brief touch confirmed her suspicions- the first of her poop had breached her defences. It may not be much, but there was surely enough to weigh down her panties and stain them badly. Oh, fuck, she thought bitterly. She looked up at May. Suddenly, Shuri felt ten years younger. Here she was, a genius princess, and she'd just done a poo in her underwear. Something forced her to blurt out the truth. "I just sharted," she confessed to the agent, a woman she barely knew. May looked taken aback, but she had training in calming people down and it kicked in fast. "You'll make it, Shuri. Don't worry". But as another wave of cramps swept through her body, threatening once again to force out the contents of her bowels, Melinda May doubted very much whether any of them would make it at all. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Back at the table, the seriousness of the situation was beginning to become painfully clear. Pepper Potts was perched on the edge of her seat, trying fruitlessly to keep the conversation going and distract the other women from their own growing urges to shit. For some it was working better than others; Natasha and Wanda were doing their best to engage and think about anything other than their bowels, but Hope couldn't help glancing nervously towards the bathroom every few seconds. From the table, the bathroom was well out of sight, but the fact that nobody had returned in several minutes could only mean one thing: there was a line. Hope hated lines with a passion, particularly when she needed to poop. Something about watching all the women in front go inside, relieve themselves and leave only made it harder for her to control her own need. Okoye sat stoically, silent as ever, patiently awaiting the princess' return. At least, that was how she looked to the others. In the harsh light of reality, she was something like a duck gliding across a calm lake: to a casual observer, she was elegant and effortless, but beneath the surface that duck was paddling vigorously, legs moving at lightning speed, flailing to keep itself moving. Only now the water was a table in a fancy New York restaurant, and instead of swimming she was trying to keep a mountain of shit contained. There was Gamora, too, legs crossed beneath the tablecloth. She'd tried a couple of times to start a conversation with Okoye, but it was like talking to a brick wall. Soon, she gave up and decided to focus on holding. The only people left around the table still talking were Valkyrie and Carol Danvers. They were animated, a spark of the flirtatious cheek from earlier in the day still there, losing themselves in the conversation. It was clear to anyone who shot them more than a passing glance that they were both in serious trouble- Valkyrie couldn't stop farting, leaving a foul smell, and Carol was constantly squirming in her chair. Sitting next to them, Pepper didn't need to strain to hear what they were saying. "I don't think I've ever had to go this bad, it's crazy," Carol said- not that it needed saying. The woman was writing in desperation where she sat. "I have," Valkyrie shot back, "when you drink as much as I used to you get desperate a fair bit. Especially when you're fighting for half of it". "So what did you do?" "I used to just pee while I fought," the Asgardian shrugged, "one time Banner caught me, I just told him it was something I spilt". "Did he believe you?" Carol asked, wide-eyed. It took a lot to shock Carol Danvers, but Valkyrie's revelation seemed to have taken her completely by surprise. "Bruce Banner? The world-class genius who blacks out and switches back and forth between human and monster?" she snorted in derision, "no, I'm pretty sure he knows what a piss stain looks like. What about you?" "What about me?" "You had any of those accident thingies lately?" "I'm about to have one right now if those girls aren't back from the bathroom soon," Carol said under her breath. Pepper was pretending not to listen, but she could relate to Danvers' words- she also felt fit to burst. She hadn't had to poop this bad since she and Tony- well, that was a story for another day. "I can't wait any more, guys, I'm going to go join the line," Hope said, slowly getting to her feet. "You're still going to have to wait just as long," Gamora pointed out. "Maybe, but at least I'll know how much longer I have to hold it," the Wasp argued. Pepper opened her mouth to say that sitting might be easier, but the other woman was already gone. Instead, Miss Potts was left to look around at who was left- stony-faced Okoye, red-faced Nat, green-faced Gamora. Wanda, trying her best to look on top of things and decidedly failing. The poor girl looked close to tears in her tight red hoodie and tighter denim pants. Valkyrie and Carol, both impossibly looking even more desperate than each other, but sitting closer than ever. "And then there were seven," Pepper said dryly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The line hadn't moved in five minutes. Jemma's black jeans felt tighter than ever around her waist, digging into her lower stomach where a heavy load was sitting. A long-sleeved button-up white blouse couldn't cover up the bulge in her abdomen, created by the poop that threatened to push itself out at any second- and by a bursting bladder. Beside her, poor Daisy was starting to seriously struggle too; the usually strong woman couldn't resist the urge to squirm and struggle. She took one look down the line and assessed that nobody would be willing to let herself or Jemma cut in front. All eight women looked just as desperate as her- if not more so. Mantis looked mortified, apologising over and over again for the smells that were being produced by her uncontrollable farting. Nobody was in any condition to pay much attention to her red-faced, stammered apologies- she wasn't the only one raising a stench. In fact, Daisy was pretty sure that Jemma and herself were among the only two women still holding the gas inside of themselves. May was a proud woman, but even she had let one or two slip out, unable to hold it back. Soon there would be a lot more than gas making an escape. Beside Mantis stood- barely- Nebula, who looked utterly unable to deal with what she was experiencing. Food poisoning was clearly an alien concept to this alien woman, who was bent over, shaking and shuddering, looking very much like someone who had no idea how to deal with what was happening inside of her body. Mantis had tried to show her that using her hands to squeeze her butt may help her hold, but such things didn't come naturally to the the blue-skinned lady. At least she didn't look as much of a state as Peggy Carter, who didn't seem to know what to do with herself. Daisy was well aware of the famous Agent Carter's story- she'd been an agent in the first half of the twentieth century, a long time before the age of toilets being shown on televisions. It had always been hard for Daisy (and she knew that May and Jemma felt the same) to admit when she needed to go to the bathroom. She could only imagine how much stronger the stigma must be in the mind of Peggy, and that would go a long way to explaining why the English woman seemed even more embarrassed than any of the other women. The Brunette was staring straight ahead, squeezing her cheeks closed determinedly and muttering to herself in her distinctive accent. Daisy couldn't make out much of what Agent Carter was saying, but she heard the words "please... not yet," and simply "I need a poo" as Peggy talked to herself. One place closer to the bathroom, but looking like she needed it even more, stood Shuri. The Wakandan had totally given up trying to hide her mini-accident on account of the smell, which everyone knew couldn't possibly have come from anything other than a shart. Instead she stood silent, eyes closed in some kind of prayer, leaning against the wall. Daisy wondered if perhaps the princess thought the wooden panels might keep her butt closed- she doubted that would work. Then there was her colleague, Melinda May, who had never looked so un-agently. In fact, in this moment Daisy thought that May looked more like a small child who was scared that her mother would tell her off if she had an accident. Maria Hill completed the lineup, bouncing restlessly with a hand grabbing her pussy and complaining under her breath that she was "gonna piss a waterfall". So desperate was Jemma that she completely failed to notice Hope Van Dyne zip to the back of the queue. "Holy shit, has nobody gone in yet?" she asked, fear etched on her face. "Nobody," Daisy said in a strained voice, "we think whoever's in there has the shits too, she's taking forever". "Well," Hope moaned, "if she's not out soon I'm definitely not gonna make it. Would it be quicker to go somewhere else?" "Can you walk and hold?" Jemma shot back. Hope thought about this for a few seconds, then hung her head. "No," she admitted, "I'd fill my pants long before I reached the bathroom". "I think I would too," said Daisy, "I feel it trying to come out, I don't know how much longer I can keep it back". Just then, another fart rang out around the room, one much louder and lower in pitch than any they'd heard yet. Every head in the room turned and was shocked to see Peggy Carter, bent at the knees, cheeks burning. Daisy found it impossible to believe that such a gross noise could come from such a prim, proper and petite lady, but there was no denying that she had broken wind. "Oh my, I'm sorry," she spluttered, as though she wished the ground would swallow her up, "I didn't mean to- simply couldn't hold it-". With wide, horrified eyes, she reached slowly behind herself and felt her backside. "Oh, no, please no," she whispered, but it was clear to see that she had fallen to the same fate as Shuri. Peggy Carter had sharted. "What's up, Peggy?" Daisy asked, looking concerned. "It wasn't just a... just a fart," Peggy confessed. The stunned silence was interrupted by the glorious sound of a latch unlocking. Sixteen nervous eyes turned towards the bathroom door, which crept open painfully slowly. A middle-aged lady with a pale face walked out, accompanied by a foul odour that could only be caused by diarrhoea- and lots of it. Maria rushed in behind her, wafting in front of her nose and muttering "oh, thank you God". Just before she shut the door, May got a foot in the way. "Maria," she begged, "please hurry. I don't have long". Agent Hill nodded, already unbuttoning her jeans, and locked the door behind her to finally get some relief. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Fuck!" cried Carol out of nowhere. The entire table looked over at the universally-feared Captain Marvel, who had been reduced to little more than a sweaty wreck by desperation. "I just pissed a little," she said. "Usually I'd say that was gross but I'm, like, this close to doing the same," Natasha groaned. It was true; news of Carol's leak had only made her even more desperate to go, "you know when you can feel the pee right there on the edge? That's me right now". "Charming," Gamora said, forcing a laugh. Over the other side of the table, Pepper pulled a guilty face. "I leaked a while ago," she admitted, "I thought it might ease the pressure... but no. I still feel like a goddamn dam waiting to burst". As if to emphasise her point, a fart slipped out. Almost everyone was gradually losing control over their gaseous exchanges, and the smell of each fart was growing more and more like the scent of poop. The only person who still showed no open signs of desperation was Okoye, who sat thin-lipped and unmoving, staring into space. "I have to be honest," Wanda said, "I need to shit like there's no tomorrow, but I'm glad I don't have to piss as well. You ladies have it even worse than me". Valkyrie nodded in agreement, but just as she opened her mouth to speak Shuri burst round the corner, clearly out of breath. "Did you go? Pepper asked hopefully, but even before the teenager answered, it was obvious that she hadn't been able to find relief. With a shake of her head, the girl squeezed out what little words she could manage. "No, the line was so slow and I was behind May and Maria, I couldn't wait- I have to poop so bad, and pee too- Okoye, please, you have to help me". Okoye was there as her own woman, on Pepper's invite, not as Shuri's babysitter. But she was nothing if not loyal, so she got to her feet, ready to do whatever it took to help. It took her just two seconds looking at the state Shuri was in to know that the princess was beyond help. Pee was already trickling down her legs, showing on her white jeans, and from the right angle a tell-tale brown stain could be seen on the seat. Okoye shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do," she told her gravely. Poor Shuri couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't do much more than look at the seven women with wide, scared eyes as a single tear formed and she began to truly lose control. The first sign was a barely audible squeak from her tight butt, which quickly evolved into a wet, squelching fart that signalled the princess finally messing herself. Hot, almost liquid shit practically poured out of her, filling her panties mercilessly, spreading thanks to the tightness of her jeans all the way up to her waist and down to the crack between her thighs. At the same time, involuntarily, her bladder gave out and a growing wet spot rapidly soaked the front of her clothes. It was too much pee to be simply contained by the fabric, and everyone in the room could watch as it poured out of the front of her jeans and down to the yellow puddle at her feet. And even as Okoye watched on sympathetically, that yellow puddle was already being tinged with brown- unable to hold in all of Shuri's explosive shit, it seemed that her panties had given way and allowed some of the mess to run down her legs and out the bottom of her jeans onto the carpet. Immobilised, Shuri simply stood there and let the mixture of shame, pain and blessed relief wash over her. Anyone in the restaurant who couldn't see her accident could surely hear it, for she'd never been able to keep her poops quiet, especially when she was ill. Pepper's maternal instinct kicked in- she couldn't bear to watch the young woman in such a humiliating moment. Standing, she moved over to comfort Shuri, but even the act of getting to her feet caused a squirt of hot pee to stain her thong. She felt so pleased to be wearing a dress, but was acutely aware of a trickle of urine flowing down her leg while she wrapped an arm around the crying, soiled girl. The first of them had had an accident, but Pepper was sure that she wouldn't be the only one. "Don't worry, Shuri, it's not your fault," she said in hushed tones, "other people are probably going to have an accident too". As her stomach grumbled ominously, Pepper could only hope she wouldn't be among them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time Shuri was finally close to empty, her once-pristine jeans were simply beyond saving. The white was now a murky brown all the way down the back, the front soaked in darkness. Watching on, Natasha had to admire the way the young lady had mostly managed to keep it together- a weaker mind would surely have been broken by such a public loss of control. Okoye was with the princess now- but even Okoye, perhaps the most disciplined and controlled person Natasha had ever met, was failing to keep her cool. Her slender legs were crossed, and she was showing signs of definite squirming beneath her clothes to keep the weight of her bowels in check. A small voice in the back of Natasha's head wondered if Okoye took big dumps, but she forced that thought away and focused on her own desperation. While the sight of the young princess completely forgetting her potty training had taken Widow's mind completely off her needs, the sharp pangs in her bowels and bladder was back with a vengeance. Nat knew that she was quickly running out of time before the inevitable happened, and reached the only logical conclusion: she needed to get in that bathroom line, now. Giving her pussy a quick squeeze, she turned towards the area where the other women were still waiting. "Gonna go join that line," she announced, trying and failing to keep the panic out of her voice, "Jeez, I haven't had to piss this bad since Budapest". She paused, then added to nobody in particular, "Haven't had to shit this bad since ever". "Me neither, but are you sure you want to get in that line?" Valkyrie asked pointedly, "sounds like it might be too long to wait". Natasha shrugged, exasperated. "I have to try, Valk, or I'll wet my favourite jeans... again". She shuddered at the thought and waddled around the corner towards the bathroom. Nat was more than aware of the stares she was being given by other diners- plenty of whom were sure to recognise her from the news. The famous Black Widow, one of the Avengers, walking through a busy restaurant and clearly desperate to take a leak. At first, Natasha tried to tell herself that it wasn't noticeable, but she quickly stopped kidding herself- she was literally squirming as she walked, hands trying and failing not to fiddle with the front of her jeans, legs crossing over unnaturally, butt sticking out somewhat because of how she was hunched over. Even more embarrassingly, she suspected that some of the diners might smell her strong farts and deduce that she also needed to evacuate at the other end. She could almost handle the public seeing her desperate to pee- celebrities were caught needing a number one all the time and it was rarely remembered- but a superhero on the verge of messing herself? That would make her a laughing stock. Once she took one look at the line outside the restroom, she knew that it wasn't going to be an option. Seven clearly bursting girls were queued up by the single door, each appearing more desperate than the last. It was Hope who first noticed Natasha's arrival, and beckoned her over with the other hand clutching her ass. "Nat," she said, "come to join the line?" "I was," Natasha replied, "but honestly? I'm not gonna make it if I stay here. I have to pee so fucking bad- in fact, I don't know what I need worse, a shit or a pee". "I know which one I need worse," Hope said dryly, "If there isn't a log in my panties in five minutes it'll be a miracle". "Tell me about it- actually, no, I'll be lucky if it's a log. Feels like I'm gonna just explode everywhere". "Ah, that can't be good. I can't- stop- farting," Hope admitted, even letting a toot out for emphasis, "it's crazy, I'm not usually gassy". "Nor me, but we ate something bad. To be honest, I'm just glad to have someone to talk to about it," Nat said. "What do you mean?" "Well, Gamora, Pepper and Okoye are far too proud to admit how bad they have to go, even though it's obvious. Wanda is so shy about this stuff and Carol and Valkyrie are more interested in each other's rack than anything else," she said bitterly, "at least with you I can just say it out loud: I'm gonna shit myself soon and there's nothing I can do". "You and me both, sister," Hope told her, "you and me both. Everyone here is too prude or too shy to speak to me too, but I don't think many of them can hold it much longer". "No, well, nor can I. I feel like my ass is leaking. I'm going back to the table- this line is a recipe for an accident. Wanna come?" "I would, Nat, but fuck, I think more than a few steps will be too much for me to handle," Hope said, sounding pained, "but good luck, Widow". "You too, Wasp," Natasha replied, offering a mock salute and heading back around the corner and out of sight. In an effort to keep herself distracted- talking to Nat had helped somewhat, and she wanted to keep that going- Hope turned to her left, where poor Jemma Simmons was doubled over with both hands buried in her crotch, being comforted half-heartedly by a near-equally bursting Daisy. Hope got the sense that she shouldn't interrupt, so listened subtly into their dialogue instead. "Oh, my God, Daisy," Jemma was moaning, "if I move my hands I'm going to wee myself". "It's okay, Jemma. If you don't make it, that's okay," the other woman replied soothingly. "No, it's not okay! I can't wee myself. I haven't weed myself since I was a little girl!" "I feel you, Jemma, I do. I'm gonna crap my pants if Hill doesn't hurry up. But we have to keep trying," she insisted, unable to hold back the loudest fart yet, "we have to". -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- May, Peggy, Nebula, Mantis, Jemma, Daisy, Hope. Maria locked in the only bathroom having explosive diarrhoea that didn't sound close to ending. Shuri gone, off to try and find somewhere to relieve herself, almost certainly doomed to ruin her jeans. Ironically, Mantis thought, they were a long way from assembled right now. Not that she was in any position to judge. She had never suffered gas like this, her ass letting rip every few seconds, totally powerless to stop it. Although she'd never been a big pooper- small amounts were her norm- Mantis could tell that was about to change just from the rock-weight in her belly. Her butthole was literally quivering from the effort of holding it back, and deep down she knew that she couldn't keep the turd at bay until it was her go. Being shy, as she was, about her bodily functions, she simply didn't know what else to do.In a vain effort to distract herself from the poop that was about to ruin her favourite underwear. At the front, Melinda May had lost all sense of power and composure. The highly-professional woman was quite the sight, with her hand reaching down the back of her panties, squeezing her asscheeks together desperately. She was moaning in what she must've thought was a quiet timbre, giving every fibre of her being to the efforts to keep her dignity. Meanwhile, the desperation- and perhaps the wine- was having a curious effect on Peggy Carter. Her inhibitions seemed to be lowering, and she was talking more than ever to the other women. Nebula was staring straight ahead as if she was admiring the potted plant in the corner. On the other side, Jemma looked as white as a ghost. She was struggling harder than anyone. "Oh God, Daisy," she groaned, "it's already started coming out... I can't hold it much longer". "Jemma, it's OK- turn around". Obediently, the young chemist spun on the spot, and Daisy had to bite her tongue to stay quiet. Jemma's trousers were stained a deep, dark brown, evidently taking the brunt of some major anal leakage. "It just slipped out. Oh shit, is it obvious?" "No, no- I can barely tell," Daisy lied. It was incredibly obvious even to a casual passer-by that the brunette was in the middle of a serious accident. The shitstain had started to bulge, sag even, and spread across her ass. At the other end of the line, Peggy was pestering May for conversation. Melinda looked in no mood to talk, instead focusing all her efforts on keeping her cramping stomach from erupting, but it didn't seem like Agent Carter had got the message. "Gosh, I haven't needed a poo this much since the war," she was saying, "what about you?" "I don't know," May said irritably, "A few years ago I almost crapped myself on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission. I think this is worse, though". May was locked in a frantic dance, refusing to move either hand away from her ass, which was clenched shut tight. She was doing a slightly better job than Jemma of staying dignified, but not by a long way- and the smell from her bottom proved that she was close to losing it. "What do you think happened to Shuri?" May added, genuinely interested despite herself. She hadn't been concentrating at all when the Wakandan had abandoned the bathroom line and rushed off, and wanted to know what had happened. "The poor girl ran off, saying she simply couldn't hold it any longer. I do hope she makes it," Peggy said sadly. "I doubt it," May grunted, "I can barely hang on and I'm standing still. She's probably shit herself already". Mantis was pulled away from listening to the agents talk by the sound of Nebula's voice. It was the first thing her blue friend had said in quite some time, so it took her by surprise. At first, the words didn't make much sense. "The plant," Nebula said grimly. "What?" "The potted plant over there. I must use it," she declared. "Nebula, no," pleaded Mantis, "you can't poop in the plant". But she could see that the other woman had already made up her mind, driven by desperation to an insane decision. "I must, Mantis. The faeces is almost escaping me". She looked anxiously at the opening from which they could be seen, waddling towards the huge plant. She had dressed in human clothes for the occasion- denim jeans picked out by Gamora, so as to cover as much of her blue skin as possible. Before Mantis could do anything about it, those denim jeans were being unbuttoned, her thighs starting to grow exposed as the waistband was shuffled down. Jemma was the first to notice what was happening, and tried her best to talk Nebula out of it. "No, Nebula, please- don't poop in there. You could get arrested," she begged. "Nebula," May warned, "do not do what I think you're about to do. You can go in front of me in the line, just don't use the plant". But it was far too late. Nebula had no other option if she wanted to keep her jeans dry. She looked guiltily at the other women in the line, lined up her blue butt with the plant pot and sat. "I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. Nebula felt her control evaporate. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sight of Nebula losing it into an ornate potted plant, combined with the squelching, splattering sound of her explosive relief, was too much for Jemma Simmons to handle. Unable to stand and watch for a second longer, she backed away, out of the alcove where the bathroom stood and into the main restaurant. She was vaguely aware of three things: pee dribbling down her left leg, Daisy following behind her and the eyes of almost everyone in the room following her every move. Jemma knew she was losing the battle. She felt a tug on her arm. It was Daisy's voice. "Jemma," it said, "where are you going?". But try as she might, the biochemist could barely manage just two words. "I- can't-" she choked. The stream of piss was gathering pace, growing faster and heavier, turning from a trickle into a flow. She tried to shut it off and found that she couldn't. Tried to move her legs- no luck. All she could do was accept it. "Daisy," Jemma whined, hoping beyond hope that not everyone in the room could hear, "I'm weeing myself". And she was. It cascaded down her legs, dampening her trousers and drenching her bare thighs, pooling around her feet and in her shoes. The sensation of her bladder emptying rapidly made keeping that iron grip on her bum impossible, and Jemma felt the almost welcome sensation of her hole opening, stretching to let the huge log out into her pants. Buried deep beneath the shame, the burning humiliation, it almost felt good to finally let it out. But that feeling of relief was short-lived, because once enough of the pee was out for Jemma to come to her senses, she looked around the room and saw her worst nightmare: people staring, laughing, people with their phones out. Still feeling the second turd falling from her bum into her underwear, Jemma Simmons turned and fled. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Maria Hill finally emerged from the bathroom, face flushed and ass feeling more than unclean, to the sight of Nebula relieving herself in a Calathea plant. While she tried to absorb the shock of such a view, she felt someone push past her. It was Melinda May, rushing into the bathroom like she hadn't a second to waste and already stripping off her bottom half. Unintentionally, Maria got a glimpse of May's shaved pussy before the other woman slammed and locked the door. The loud moan and splattering noises being emitted from the room suggested that May had made it just in time. "What's going on out here?" she asked, mouth open. "Nebula is pooping in that plant," Mantis explained, bouncing up and down on the spot, "I told her not to. And Shuri left. And Jemma peed on the floor a little- look!" she pointed unhelpfully to an obvious dark stain on the carpet where Jemma cleary hadn't made it. "Oh, shit," Maria said. She knew that she should feel concerned for the wellbeing of her fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but the sheer relief of having reached the bathroom in time was all she could think about right now. Or, at least, almost reached it in time. There had been something of a spillage on the floor just before she'd managed to get her butt in line with the toilet bowl, true, but nobody ever had to know. She certainly didn't intend on telling anyone. For whatever reason, she couldn't take her eyes off of Nebula, who looked in sheer ecstasy. Her eyes were rolled back in her smooth head, mouth open, liquid shit still pouring out of her like lava. The stench was almost unbearable. Maria turned to Mantis, feeling bad for the poor girl, who she knew was far too shy to use a plant like her friend. "Seeing her just makes me need to poop even worse," Mantis groaned, grabbing her ass like she had been shown to try and hold it in. Before Maria could reply, Peggy Carter made some kind of choking noise that sounded as though she had been punched in the stomach. All heads turned to Peggy, who they'd forgotten was even there. The English woman had found herself at the front of the line, but from the sight of her bent at the knees, clutching her stomach, it looked like she might not be able to wait much longer. Peggy rapped at the bathroom door with her knuckles, although her polite facade was barely even visible anymore. "May, hurry, please. I'm begging you," she cried through the thick wood. She was squirming like Maria had never seen before. "If I'm not on that loo in thirty seconds I won't make it". All she got in return was May's voice, moaning even louder in relief, and another colossal fart. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Natasha got back to the table, she was pulled aside before she could say a word by Wanda. Scarlet Witch, as the world knew her, had built her image- no, her personality- on being calm, cold, calculating. But here she was, with a hand down the back of her knickers... crying. "Nat, it's coming," she whispered, "help me". "Help you?" "Please, Natasha, you're the only one I can talk to about this. You're the only one I trust. It's coming out, and I can't stop it". "Fuck, okay," Nat said, thinking quickly as she could, "kind of on the verge of losing it myself here, from both ends, but I'll do what I can. Try cross your legs, see if-" "No, you're not getting it," Wanda cut her off, "it's too late. I'm already messing myself. I need you to get me out of here before people see," she begged. Pain was writhing through every part of Natasha's belly, bladder and ass, but she knew she couldn't abandon a friend at a time like this. The look of pure fear on Wanda's face shocked Widow into action. "Right, follow me- I can get you somewhere private," she grabbed Wanda by the arm, ignoring the stares of Okoye and Gamora, and dragged her away from the table, into the packed restaurant. But instead of heading to the entrance, she took a left, towards a fire exit at the back of the room. Rule number one of being a spy, Nat thought to herself, always know where the exits are. She'd assessed the fire escape when they arrived- it was something she couldn't help doing- but never expected to actually need to use it. As she yanked the tearful Wanda through the door, though, she felt incredibly grateful that she'd taken the time to know where it was. As soon as the pair of them spilled out into the sunlight, Wanda turned and leant against the wall, both palms flat against the bricks, and allowed the inevitable to happen. Her pants were tighter than usual, and Natasha couldn't look away while the bulge in the back of her friend's jeans grew ever bigger. Wanda grunted, a low, decidedly un-Wanda-like sound, and Nat got the sense that the other woman was unwillingly pushing to get the rest of the shit out of her. "Fuck, Nat, I can't stop- get these jeans off me," Wanda whined. "What?" "Get them off me, please, I can't ruin them". Not wanting to upset Wanda any more than she was already upset, Nat reached in from behind her friend and unbuttoned her tight jeans. She slid them down, around Wanda's pale ankles. Again, Natasha couldn't seem to stop staring at the rapidly-expanding bulge in Wanda's knickers. Bad day to wear white panties, she thought to herself. There was too much shit for the panties to contain- as they stretched and pushed at the fabric, Nat could see every lump, every colour, every drip of liquid that seeped through the white and turned it brown. "I have to push," Wanda's voice was pained, "it hurts too much". Grunting even louder, she bore down and the mess in her underwear doubled in size. "Good thing you're not me," Natasha told her wryly. "Why?" "Because in a few seconds I'm about to do the same, and piss myself too". ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "May! Open the fucking door!" Mantis was shocked at Peggy's language, which was growing increasingly vulgar as time passed. It had been several minutes now since May had locked herself in the bathroom, and she was beyond the point of desperate to shit, but it seemed that Peggy was even closer to breaking point. "May, I'm begging you, open the door or I'll poo myself right here. You've taken bloody ages!" she hammered on the door again with her fist, knowing that it was no good. From the other side, May was apologising profusely, telling them that it wouldn't stop coming out. "It's coming out of me too, arsehole!" Peggy shouted. She turned to the other women, face still crinkled in pain. Nebula was wiping her bottom with a leaf she'd remorselessly plucked from the ruined plant, Mantis was farting like a sailor and Hope had taken to squatting down, bouncing on the balls of her feet in hope of keeping her shit inside. The final wave of cramps hit Peggy, and she knew in that moment that it was one minute too long to wait. She stepped back from the door and her knees went weak. There was Mantis, trying her best to catch her, but the alien woman wasn't strong and although Peggy wasn't heavy the best she could do was lower Agent Carter gradually to the ground. First her knees hit the carpet, then she bent over, on all fours as if she was expecting sex doggy style. On her hands and knees, Peggy Carter swore under her breath and began to shit her pants. There was no way for the other women in the room to pretend not to notice as the familiar crackling sound filled the air, accompanied by the most pungent smell yet- the smell of solid shit. The first log alone was enormous, tenting out like an erection, so hard that it refused to be squished into her panties. "Oh, gosh, I need a poo so badly," Peggy whispered, almost unaware that she was already doing one. "Fuck, what's happening to you guys?" came a voice from behind Peggy. A familiar voice. "Ah, the old shit-in-a-plant trick... I've been there," came a second. Overwhelmed by the power of her heavy accident, it took Peggy everything she had to look around the corner, fearing the worst- reporters, maybe, or someone with a camera. What she saw filled her with a different kind of relief. Carol and Valkyrie had arrived in the line. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- At the table, the final few women still standing were almost out of time. Pepper Potts, one of the oldest in the group and one of the few who almost never found herself having to hold it, was struggling worse than anyone. Daisy arrived, jiggling up and down, her breast bouncing as she did so. "Jemma's run off," she said sadly, "she- she had this massive accident and just left". "Oh God, poor thing," Pepper said, still feeling empathetic for the younger woman despite being in such a dire need herself, "how's the line looking?" "Not good. Last I saw Nebula gave up and pooped in a plant. Peggy didn't look like she was gonna last much longer, nor did Hope". "What about you?" "Me? I'm fine," Daisy lied, "I can hold it". The truth felt like very much the opposite- she was sure that she was touching cloth down there, or turtleheading as her peers in her youth had called it. "I'd better get back in that line, though," she said, feigning calm, and rushed off to rejoin the queue. "Well, if the line's not moving, I'm screwed," Pepper sighed, "I haven't had to go this bad in my life". In a vague effort to distract herself, she reached into the pocket of her dress and fished out her phone. Nothing- no texts. Tony was away, but he must not have had time to message her yet. Disappointed, she placed her phone back in the pocket, which was so deep that anything she kept in it was almost touching her crotch. Now all she was left with was sheer desperation. It felt as though any movement, any tiny surprise could cause her to lose control. Her attention was grabbed by a loud noise from across the table- Gamora. The ivy-skinned woman was bent over the table, arms flat on the cloth, butt sticking out. She released a loud fart, looked at Okoye and said "how the hell aren't you showing this? We all know you have to go just as bad as we do". "I have honour," spat the Wakandan, "I may soil my clothes, but I will not humiliate myself like a child". Pepper switched her attention away from them, not in the mood to listen to bickering. She thought it was a miracle that Gamora's moan hadn't startled her into losing control- surprises usually broke her when she was bursting, even on a date with Tony one time, but she'd managed to hold it throughout the outburst. Maybe she could be okay- if she stayed still, she might be able to- Vrmmm. At that instant, her phone vibrated in her pocket, sending tingles right through her body. The shaking feeling struck her directly above the clitoris, a sensation that expanded all the way across her crotch, her lower legs, her butt, and in that moment Pepper knew she was done. Her tortured muscles relaxed completely, and once the gates were open they would not be shut. Scorching, mushy poop almost spewed from her hole, pushing free in wave after relentless wave. Pepper had to grab the back of the nearest chair to stay standing as her knees went weak. What was happening must have been painfully clear on her face, because Gamora stood, looking worried. "Pepper? Is it coming out?" Not seeing the point in lying, Pepper nodded quickly, lips shut tight. She had hoped for twenty long minutes that being in a dress might save her from embarrassment if she couldn't hold it, but now she was messing herself and she had no doubt that it was obvious for anyone in the restaurant to see. The food poisoning had finally won, and a problem she hadn't foreseen was emerging- she'd come to the restaurant wearing a thong, which was probably the worst kind of underwear to crap your pants in. There was almost no scope for it to contain any of her accident, and the wet poop was running down her legs and onto the floor. Resigned to empty her bowels where she stood, Pepper bowed her head and let it happen. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Daisy arrived once again to join the back of the line just as May was finally coming out of the bathroom. She looked absolutely mortified as Mantis rushed in past her and locked the door, kneeling down next to the humiliated and dehumanised Peggy to apologise over and over. Daisy, for her part, couldn't afford to pay them much attention. She was nearing her own messy accident, as much as she hated to admit it. But it gave her some comfort that Hope Van Dyne was fairing much worse. The Wasp looked as though she could do with her suit to just shrink down and fly to the nearest bathroom, but instead she was powerless and on the verge of shitting herself. Unsurprisingly, Daisy was only watching on for a few seconds before the now-familiar noises of bowels starting to evacuate made themselves heard. Hope put one hand flat on the wall and leaned in. Everyone stopped what they were doing, drawn by the sounds of Hope losing the battle with her body. "Guys, I'm sorry, but it hurts too much. I can't-" she grunted, convulsed and started to let go, "- hold it in any longer". Daisy was mesmerised by the image of Hope's nice clothes turning brown, and she wasn't the only one- Carol and Valkyrie couldn't take their eyes off of it. "Oh shit, Wasp?" Natasha had reached the scene, joining the back of the line, clearly on her last legs. She was followed by Gamora and Okoye, the first farting as she walked, the second still managing to keep her composure with some effort. Still emptying herself, Hope stepped out of line and stumbled to the other side of the hall, content to finish her accident in peace. The line was now almost as long as it had been originally. Hope had been so close to making it to the bathroom, but with Mantis sounding like she was shitting her brains out inside, the Wasp just hadn't been able to hold out. Now it was Carol Danvers who was next in line, holding her pussy as tight as she could and keeping those legs locked together. Valkyrie stood behind her, twisting and squirming frantically but seeming unable to keep her eyes away from Carol's bursting body. Next stood Daisy, who was sure that she would have to throw away her panties no matter what happened next. Natasha Romanoff danced like a child behind her, doing everything it took to keep her control. Then came Gamora, who had unbuttoned her jeans to try and relieve the pressure, which meant her black underwear was clearly visible- not that she seemed to care. Finally, Okoye stood stoically, only just allowing herself a quick squeeze of her toned buttcheeks every now and then when she thought nobody was looking. After a few seconds, it was Daisy who lost the fight next. She turned to the others, eyes weary. "It's happening. Just- nobody ever talk to me about this ever again?" she asked, and squatted down. As she lost control of her muscles, all that was audible sounded like a long, hard fart. Her tight pants forced the loose mess to squish out, spreading across her buttcheeks and up to her back and pussy. She moaned loudly as the pain in her stomach started to fade at long last, but at the cost of a humiliation she would never forget. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Oh, that feels so much better!" It was Mantis, who had finally stopped pooping for long enough to pull up her jeans and leave the bathroom free. Nobody was in a state to listen to her as Carol started heading for the door, but Valkyrie stopped her with a tug on the sleeve. "If you go in without me I'll shit myself, Carol," the Asgardian explained, "I have an idea". "Fine, come in, quick!" Carol said in a panic. She grabbed Valkyrie's wrist and yanked her into the room with her. "What's your big idea?" she started to say as she locked the door, but the other woman was already executing it- she lifted her dress and hopped up onto the impeccable porcelain sink. "Valk- no!" There was no stopping Valkyrie, though. The sound of her forceful eruption of wet poop splattering against the sink and plughole was too much- it set Carol into action. She leapt across the room to the toilet, went to unbutton her jeans- and fumbled. "Fuck, I can't get these jeans off!" Carol cried, barely audible over Valkyrie's moans of relief and loud bowel movements. "Come here!" the Asgardian said, waving Carol over. She grabbed the front of the other girl's jeans and, still shitting, struggled with the button until it finally came loose. "Go, go!" she yelled, but Carol wasn't moving. The blonde woman looked up at her, eyes wide, and Valkyrie understood. "Too late," she said softly. Both women could hear Carol filling her pants, totally uncontrollably. It was a violent, unstoppable evacuation, weighing heavily down in her underwear and coating her thighs. She looked down and saw Valkyrie's bare pussy gushing with piss into the sink, joining the still-growing pile of mushy poop that she'd deposited there. This gave Carol an idea- her bowels were emptying but her bladder still ached. She shoved down her jeans and full-up knickers, stood on the edge of the sink and lined herself up. "What are you doing?" Valkyrie asked quietly. "I really have to piss," Carol told her, and within seconds her stream joined Valkyrie's, the two flows of yellow pee crossing over each other and soaking Valkyrie's mess. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Natasha, Gamora, Okoye. The line was shorter than ever, but all three of the women in it had reached their limits. "Fuck, how much longer can you wait?" Nat asked, shaking violently. "Seconds," Gamora said, letting rip another wet fart, "if that. God I have to poop so bad. If Quill ever hears about this-" "Trust me, he won't," Okoye interrupted, "as long as the King never finds out either". "Deal," Gamora agreed, before adding "Okoye, look, we all know you're desperate to go, so why don't you just admit it? We're all women here, there's no shame in it, just... dance, squirm, do whatever you gotta do". Okoye thought this over for a second, and Gamora could see in her eyes that she was considering it. "It's okay," she probed encouragingly. Okoye sighed in frustration and started to wiggle reluctantly. "Fine," she conceded, "I'm dying to go to the bathroom". She paused, looking like a weight had been lifted, "Wow. It feels so good to say that out loud. In my line of duty admitting such a need would be shameful". "Yeah, well, you're not in your line of- oh no," Gamora choked, struggling to finish the sentence, "it's time". Natasha stepped closer to her, unburied a hand from her aching pussy and grabbed Gamora by both shoulders. "No, Gamora, listen to me. You can hold it. You're so strong," she insisted, barely believing it herself. But Gamora had to hold on, she had to- for Nat's sake too. If Gamora could hold it in, so could she. The look in Gamora's eyes was like a dagger to Natasha's heart. They were the eyes of a woman who had given up. "I'm sorry, Natasha, but I'm shitting myself right now," she said, almost calm in her acceptance. And it was true- there was no going back now, not judging by the way the sound of her vibrant farts had morphed into a squishy, slimy noise. In disbelief, Nat spun Gamora 180 degrees. There was no denying that bulge, the way it grew from the size of a golf ball to the size of a grapefruit in seconds, the unmistakable smell. The greatest warrior in the galaxy had lost control of her belly and was pooping herself in a busy restaurant. "Oh, fuck, Gamora," Natasha breathed, bouncing up and down, "don't you know how much harder that makes it for me to hold it in?" "I'm sorry!" "And for me, also," came Okoye's voice. Every woman in the room turned at that sound to look at her, because there was something in Okoye's voice that they had never heard before- fear. "I cannot stop it!" she was beginning to panic, all of her efforts to appear high and controlled finally catching up with her, "I have to get in that bathroom now!" She charged for the door, banged on it with her fist, went to open the handle- but it was no use. Of course Carol had locked the room, and that had doomed poor Okoye of Wakanda. Breathing heavily, she turned and there was Shuri, by her side. "It's okay, Okoye," the Princess told her, "let it happen". That permission was all it took. For the first time in a long time, Okoye couldn't fight back. She stood, eyes closed tight, and groaned as the first log started to poke out of her tight, dark asshole. It inched out, expanding with every millimetre, growing thicker and thicker until it was almost impossibly girthy. The turd kept coming, three inches, four- until the widest part had escaped her clenched buttocks and the rest just slid out before anything could be done. For the first time in her life, Okoye had just shit her pants; there was plenty more where that came from. The second piece was far looser, wetter, and it shot out and into her underwear. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes- she just knew that everyone in the room would be staring, staring as she messed herself, staring as she shamed her name and her King. But it felt so good. The sight of it was driving Natasha crazy. She had to get out of this restaurant. She turned, steeled herself and practically sprinted from the scene, into the main bulk of the restaurant, where every table was still packed with diners. By now, almost everyone in the house had caught wind that some of the Avengers and their friends were eating at the back, and most of them knew that a few had had some kind of food poisoning, but it was still a shock to see the most famous of them all appear in the centre of the main hall. In her rush, Natasha tripped on the leg of an old lady's chair and went sprawling. The fall hadn't hurt too bad, but it had made staying dry even harder. Slowly, agonisingly, the mighty Black Widow got to her feet, surrounded by people who knew who she was and knew that she was about to have an accident. She glanced around the room in a panic for one last-ditch escape route. Wanda was there, staggering back in through the fire escape, being berated by a member of staff who was closing the door behind her. Over at the main entrance a gaggle of guests were blocking the path, watching the scene unfold like vultures. Jemma Simmons was among them, wide-eyed, holding a heavy mess in place in the back of her piss-soaked jeans and wishing there was anything she could do. No escape. Fuck. Nat turned back the way she came, but knew that would be no escape. Everyone had followed her- Okoye, with Shuri clinging to her side. Pepper, eyes red and puffy. Gamora and Mantis, standing close together, watching on horrified. Nebula was hot on their heels, being chased by a furious manager who wanted to know why there was a dump in his potted plant. The other S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared in a gap in the crowd, and Hope Van Dyne, looking as though she wished she could be anywhere else in the world. At the back of the room, Carol and Valkyrie emerged, one red-faced, the other unnervingly cool. There was nowhere for Natasha to go, nowhere for her to hide, and she was trapped in the middle of several hundred wealthy New Yorkers. And that was the moment her body gave in. Her piss didn't just leak out- it exploded, a waterfall of hot, salty yellow. Within a second, the front of her jeans was utterly saturated, a whole different colour to the rest of the fabric, liquid escaping from every available hole and spraying onto the expensive carpet. That was nothing, though, compared to what was happening at the other end. Just as she had predicted earlier, Natasha's mess wasn't solid, or shapely: it squirted out in every direction, filling her panties like mud being poured into a bag. All Nat could do was stand there and moan in relief as hundreds of pairs of shocked eyes took in every last detail. They all saw the way she flicked her hair out of her face and squatted, defeated. They couldn't miss the stench oh her diarrhoea, a vile odour that filled the room. There was no mistaking the sounds of her soaking wet farts, which sounded so strange and unladylike coming from such a powerful, beautiful woman. And each and every person in that room got a good look at the puddle- no, the pool- which formed on the carpet around her ruined shoes, a pool that was so dense and rapid that the floor couldn't soak it up in time. Every few seconds, another lump of loose poop would tumble out of her panties and onto the floor, but there was still plenty filling her underwear, squishing up against her bare skin. She lost track of time as her bladder and bowels took control from her brain, but Nat knew that by the time her stream finally began to die down, she'd been going for at least a minute. Looking around, Natasha saw that her worst fears had come true- phones were out, cameras, flashes of light. This would be on the internet within minutes. It wasn't fair- she'd held out longer than anyone, and she'd had to pee a river too, but she'd been forced to have the most humiliating, most public accident of them all. Shame drowned her heart- Clint would see this. His wife and kids would see this. There was no chance she would ever be able to forget it. She stood up straight, opened her mouth as if to speak, and closed it abruptly. For the first time, she couldn't think of anything to say that would make things better. Instead, the world-feared Black Widow turned around and walked back towards her friends, leaving an enormous mess of piss and runny poop behind her. "Oh, fuck," she said when they got back to the table, "I can't believe that just happened. I can't believe I just messed myself," she felt on the verge of tears. Jemma was the last to return, heading over to their original seats. At some point during the whole ordeal, their desserts had arrived. Nobody felt much like eating. There was a hand on her back- Wanda's. "It's ok, Nat," she said reassuringly (or at least, in a voice that she hoped was reassuring), "you're far from the only one with a... a log in their pants". Nat wasn't ready to find humour in the situation, but Valkyrie chuckled. "It's easy for you to laugh," Okoye said sternly, "you and Carol made it". "Excuse me? Made it?" Carol asked, spinning around. At this, Natasha really did have to stifle a laugh. Carol's entire butt was smeared in a deep brown stain, and her once-tight jeans bulged prominently. "Okay, maybe you didn't make it," Jemma said, "But I did a poo in front of the whole restaurant, that has to be worse than your accident". "Not worse than mine," Shuri mumbled, "these were my favourite panties". "Oh, yeah," Valkyrie said, "that reminds me, we should probably get going now". "Sounds good to me, I need to clean," agreed Hope, "but why?" "Because I took a dump in the sink, and I just saw the manager go in there..." "Shit!" Pepper gasped, eyes wide, "are you serious?" "Sorry! I was desperate," Valkyrie said innocently. "Dammit, okay," Pepper said, "let's get the hell out of here". ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  7. Tsukasa was sitting in her final class, blushing madly as her bowels ached. She had made it through the entire day, desperate for a bathroom, but because of some girls fooling around in the bathrooms, they were closed to students unless the students were trusted. But Tsukasa was not trusted. She was one of the girls who fooled around in the bathrooms when they were caught. She couldn't go relieve herself, so she had to wait until she got home. Tsukasa desperately wanted to let out a few farts, but would be far too embarrassed to do it during class. So she waited until she left school to actually let out some wind. The final bell rang through the school, and all the students began packing their things and leaving the class. Tsukasa carefully stood, and blushed as a quiet, little fart escaped from her rear uncontrollably. The pressure from the seat wasn't there anymore, allowing the unwanted fart to escape. As she began packing everything into her backpack, she smelled her fart faintly. But there was plenty more inside of her, she just had to get outside before she could actually release it. She put her backpack on, and followed the rest of the students with one hand on her stomach. Her bowels grumbled silently as she whinced slightly. Tsukasa exited the school and began making her way down the street, and turned down the walkway onto another street. She glanced to her left, then to her right, and smiled as she seen no one around. No one ever went on the street that she took home, luckily. She smiled before relaxing her rear, and a loud brrrrrrrrrfrrrrrrrrrt sounds from her bum as a loud, dry fart released from her bowels. She moans silently as she blushes, feeling the relief of releasing her air to be extremely amazing. Just as she released her air, she felt a tingle down in her nether region. Could Tsukasa be enjoying this a little too much? "Aaaah~ it feels to good~" Tsukasa said to herself silently. She pushed, and a pfffrrrrrrrrrt sounds as more wind escapes from her rear. She found herself to be enjoying her predicament a little, being a little disappointed that she couldn't smell her flatulence. She continued making her way to her home, pushing out a fart every now and then. She finally reached her front door of her house, taking her keys out of her pocket and frantically putting them in the door as she placed a hand on her stomach, whincing. Her bowels churned angrily, a large portion of poo that urgently needed to be evacuated nearing the escape. A loud, sudden frrrrrrrrrrrrrrt escaped as a smelly fart escaped from her rear, the mess getting closer to escaping. Tsukasa kept getting the wrong key as she let out a pained whimper. Just then, a bit of solid poo began poking out from her rear, causing her to whine audibly as she fumbled with her keys, trying to find the key to unlock her door. The mess squeezed further out before it touched cotton, meeting the resistance of her panties. She continued fumbling with her keys as her poo began to push her pink panties out. She finally found the right key, and inserted it into the lock of the door. Even though she finally got the key inserted into the door lock, her body seemed to have other plans. As soon as she inserted the key into the door, her body involuntarily caused her to push, a loud crackle sounding from her rear as poo began roping out from her bum and into her pink panties. Tsukasa gasped and blushed madly as her panties began bulging out. The crackling began to get more muffled as her panties began sagging down with the additional weight being exerted into them, the brown mass growing in size. Her skirt hid her accident, but Tsukasa felt and smelled what was going on as she gave up, and pushed voluntarily, causing a sudden splooooorch to sound as brown mess exploded from her bum and into her filled panties. She breathed heavier as she grunted cutely, pushing again as the bulge continued ballooning out, the seat of her once pink panties now turning to a brownish pink colour. The mess began spreading quickly across both her bum cheeks as her lower lip quivered and her cheeks flushing. She moved her hand that was on her stomach to the rear of her as she placed it softly on the slightly ballooned skirt as she pushed. She grunted adorably as she pushed the last of the mess out, blushing deeply as she whimpered. The deed was done. Tsukasa just filled her panties. "Oh.. I just... oh no..." She told herself as she blushed. She turned the key and unlocked her door, entering it before closing it behind her, the mess shifting about in her panties. The stench from her accident wafted up her nose as she blushed, keeping her hand placed on her rear. Soon, Tsukasa found herself slightly enjoying her accident. "It feels... weird... But warm.." She told herself. Tsukasa found herself staying in her soiled panties for a few hours before finally cleaning up. It was quite a messy afternoon for Tsukasa.
  8. After a long stretch of work, I'm finally happy to say that I will be doing a series of shorts for my interactive: The Guild Apprentice. The first short is from the most recent chapter and involves The Bard, Addilyn Tsereteli during her most desperate moments of the story. This is a condensed version of that chapter which is done from Addilyn's point of view. Patented Clom Warning: This story focuses heavily on bowel desperation and farting. This is probably the crudest story I've written, featuring lengthy fart desperation, bowel desperation and stuff I know that doesn't interest a lot of people. That is not the case for all of these shorts, but for this one you've been warned. Enjoy! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A horde of untamed goblins been troubling the local farmers and as such the call for a Fighter was answered. Ayla had arrived in the hamlet a day before, assisted the local guards with clearing out the caverns they infested and rode off back toward Guilden, stopping only to make camp the night before. Ayla always relished her time near the borders of her homeland. Tall, majestic trees, long flowing rivers of crystal clear water that sparkled in the sun, the majestic songs of birds and wildlife that swept through the forests; The true beauty of the country of Balkana started long before the border. While Addilyn Tsereteli, bard of Balkana, loved her home in Eserith, she always knew her true home was the country of nature and song. The Bard awoke to a beautiful summer morning; the sunlight warming the forest and the fragrant aroma of flowers in the air. As the sun was rising over the trees, Ayla packed up her supplies, prepared herself a treat of cold, sweetberry tea, and relieved herself in the grass before saddling up and making the rest of her journey home. On her day-long journey, Ayla made only one stop - to take a drink from the river and relieve herself against a tree before carrying on toward Fort Victoria. The sun was just setting as she rode along the lakeside and through the gates into the bustling town of Guilden. "Guildhand!" The guards at the gate called out as they noticed her horse brandishing the banner of Fort Victoria. The men stood aside and allowed Ayla to pass, lowering their heads in respect. The Bard left her horse at the stable in the west of town and proceeded through the narrow streets. She passed a group of cheerful market goers, reminding her that she would have to visit the summer fair before it left for the next town. Perhaps celebrating her victory with a bowl of noodles in plum sauce or a nice bottle of rice wine. She passed a group of men investigating a leak in an alleyway, muttering among themselves and soon she ascending the stairs toward Fort Victoria. Almost home. Ringing in the air, the familiar clings and clangs of swords welcomed The Bard. Apprentices practicing in the training yards, yells and grunts as they sparred. Ayla was finally home. She loved returning to these sounds, pretending they were a fanfare announcing her arrival within the fort. It made her feel like a mighty warrior returning to the castle after a grand quest. She strutted through the large iron doors and took in the long-awaited sight of the grand hall. Home. Home at last. Finally home after a long journey, Ayla wanted nothing more than to unpack her bag, perhaps play her violin a little, and then collapse on her bed. But before doing any of that, she had to make one important stop. I've been waiting all day to finally use a privy. She had been sitting on a loaf the whole time she'd been at the border, and the celebratory banquet she had feasted on the night before had finally hit the pits of her stomach. It was a great feast, a whole table of the finest spiced meats, bread and cream cakes the town could put together to honour their saviour. Ayla downed her fill along with a fine helping of wine and as a result she had spent the whole night gassy, farting beneath her sheets until the sun rose. Not once had the need to void her bowels burdened her until now. But even when she was home Ayla could not escape the call of duty. On her way to the lavatory she was caught up by Lucina. The white-haired warrior and Guildmaster of the fort, although she did not consider herself of the title. "Addilyn, I thought I saw you walking through the yard. I'm glad to see you're back safely." She said with warm greeting. "It's nice to see you too, Lucina." The greetings were dull, and felt far more formal than Ayla enjoyed. She struggled to see Lucina as a friend after taking the rank of Guildmaster. "I was hoping there was a favour I could ask of you. I know you've just come back but it's urgent." "Of course, I was hoping I could... never mind. What do you need?" Ayla asked. Lucina puffed out her cheeks and exhaled wearily. "Could you summon Yuka to the study. Myself and Damari wish to have a word with her regarding a recent contract." Of course you do. Ayla held her sigh. "Sure I can. I, um, do you mind if I..." She pointed toward the dining hall. "I'm sorry, I need her in the study now." Without a goodbye, Lucina headed back to her study, leaving Ayla without another word. With Lucina gone, Ayla finally let out her sigh. It was never good when the Guildmaster called a summon and in Yuka's case it was worse. Guildmaster Gregori had always been lenient with Yuka, but since his death that leniency was lost. Yuka suffered the full extent of the Guildmaster's wrath when her contracts went awry and more times than not it only put stress on hers and Lucina's friendship. Ayla had noticed the growing tensions, but she dared not question it. She knew it was naive to believe their bond was too strong for such a divide between them, but she still held onto that belief. On such a beautiful day, there was only one place Yuka could be. Down at the mouldy old dock near the Undercroft. That was where she enjoyed to drink, away from all the loud noises of the Fort. Ayla needed to use the lavatory, but she put it on hold to go seek out her best friend. She'd held all through the day, she could wait a few more minutes. She walked away from the dining hall and made her way toward the Undercroft. She passed the leftovers of several wine bottles scattering a windowsill in the bowels of the fort, and Ayla knew for certain now that Yuka was down at the dock. But she didn't find Yuka at the dock, though the scattered bottles of wine left behind certainly told a story. What she did find was something she hadn't expected. At the far end of the dock, Ayla caught the glimpse of a girl with long grassy hair, bent down in a most indecent position. The girl was squatting, her legs spread, revealing her small starfish between a pair of plump cheeks and the slightest glimpse of her womanly slit. Ayla could see it all, the girl was crouched over the waters edge, a stream of piss running from between her legs, piddling into the water beneath. The girl, completely unaware of Ayla's presence, went about her business with pleasure. The girl was in ecstasy, not letting a moment of her relief pass in silence; She hummed and ha'd as she pissed in the lake, her legs trembling as she squatted, her anus twitching as she strained the last drops from between her legs. Ayla couldn't believe it. She was frozen with disbelief. Such... crude conduct. She must be one of Yuka's friends. Finally, the girl finished up at the edge of the dock. Believing herself to be alone, the girl expelled a bout of wind. She sighed gleefully and finished her pee. After the deed was done, did Ayla decide to make herself known. She knew most of the company Yuka kept, they didn't care for being seen in such an indecent position and she knew it. But that was the first mistake Ayla made - believing this green-haired girl was anything like Yuka. She approached the girl squatting by the lake and gently put out a hand to tap her shoulder. Before she could, she saw a twitch of fear in the squatting girl. The Bard retracted her hand, took a step back and instead decided to address the girl. "E-Excuse m-me, a-are." That was her second mistake. The girl turned to face Ayla, her beautiful eastern eyes staring in terror unmatched by anything Ayla had seen. Her lips trembled, quivering. The girl didn't speak, instead unleashing a terrified shriek that pierced the skies. Ayla felt her ears almost shatter, her heart was racing with trepidation. All Ayla could do to calm the screaming girl was scream back. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She yelled, throwing her arm over her eyes into darkness. "I thought you were just pee... peering! Peering into the water! I didn't know... I'm sorry!" "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE!?" The girl finally spoke, but her composure was next to none. "I JUST GOT HERE! I'M LOOKING FOR A FRIEND." Ayla gulped. If word of this got out, people would think I'm some lewd voyeur! "I'm sorry, please take your time." She turned her back on the girl and pointed towards the stairs. "I'll just wait over there." A flurry of thoughts flew through her head. She couldn't steady her racing heart, she couldn't steady her trembling legs, she was overwhelmed with fear. I heard her fart, I heard her peeing, I saw her... places. And she saw me! Ayla thought. Back a meager five minutes and already she had found herself wound up in the unspeakable. "Alright... I'm d-done. You could've at least waited... or not snuck on me like you did." The girl hissed. "I'm sorry." The girls strict tone made Ayla feel like a child being scolded by her mother. She looked down at her boots, too scared to look the girl in her eyes. "I should've waited. I didn't meant to scare you." I need to not look so scared, I need to look her in the eyes. Slowly, Ayla raised her head, staring into the girls eyes. "It's just... nobody comes down here except for a friend of mine." She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to hide the trembling. "I'm just looking for her. My name is A-" "Ayla!" From behind, Ayla heard the excited squeals of her best friend. "Ayla! Ayla! Ayla!" Before she could even turn around Yuka was already on her, squeezing her and lifting her off the ground. To her surprise, Yuka did not reek of wine. A rarity. "There's my favourite little Princess fucker! I've missed you! I've missed you! I've missed you!" Yuka's hug made The Bard feel warm inside, one of her favourite parts of returning was the first few moments when her best friend saw she was back. She would lift her off her feet and make her feel like she was the only girl in the world who mattered. "Hiya, Yuka! I've missed you too." Ayla spat out a lock of her fiery hair that had ended up in her mouth as Yuka span her around. "I've only been gone a few days." "Yeah, but that feels like a whole month to me without you here!" Ayla felt nearly crushed as Yuka squeezed tighter, never wanting to let The Bard go. As happy as Ayla was, the force only served to speed up matters brewing in her belly. She leant in to Yuka's ear and whispered. "Yuka... do you mind if we... I need to... you know." Yuka started giggling like a juvenile, but she remained silent to Ayla's plight. "Ah okay. Don't want to squeeze it out of you." She put The Bard back on the floor and gave her a wine-soaked kiss on the cheek, still keeping her wrapped in a warm embrace. "Ah, you're awake Shibo! And looking awfully red in the face." She waves to the green-haired girl. "I was gonna say something, but forget it. Did you meet Ayla? Did you introduce yourself." "We've already met." The girl, called Shibo didn't sound too happy about that fact. "Gah! It feels like we don’t talk as much. You never come down here anymore. I love Ledley, but she’s nothing compared to my favourite little bard!" "I'm just trying to keep you and Lucina happy." With those words, Ayla felt the warmth inside her dwindle. She walked away from Yuka, feeling her friends arms slump from her shoulders with little resistance. "That's why I'm here actually." I'm sorry, Yuka. If only I had come down to see you. "She wants to speak with you in the Guildmaster's study." Yuka slumped her shoulders as the joy she felt a moment ago drained away. Ayla could sense it, when she lost her smile, that was when she was not her jovial self. The perky thief looks as grim as death. "Is Damari there?" She asks with a sigh. Yuka did not enjoy dealing with Damari, nor did she enjoy dealing with Lucina. "Damari is there." "Of course he is..." Yuka sighed. Ever since Guildmaster Gregori's death, Damari had overseen everything in the fort with Lucina by his side. It had become well known that those who were summoned to the Guildmaster's study would answer to both him and Lucina. "Alright, best I get this shite out of the way." Before she left, Yuka turned to Shibo and began talking to her, asking her if she would be still be coming out tonight. As Yuka and Shibo spoke about their plans for the night, Ayla looked out over the lake, soaking in the view of the mountains. It's good to be home. She breathed in the fresh air and let out a content sigh. Before she knew it, Yuka was in her face, talking about how Shibo had caught an amazing fish. Ayla listened, but she never had much interest in fishing. She gave the usual questions to make herself look interested but her mind idled on the scenery. Yuka and Shibo returned to talking and Ayla returned to the world in her head. "Ah, right!" Ayla heard Yuka call before hearing a finger snap beside her ear. "Ayla do you want to do your big sis a favour? It would mean the world to me!" She was tired from her journey and she needed to make a "drop" at the privy, but when Yuka give her the look of an alley pup, Ayla couldn't say no. "Of course." Excited, Yuka pulled in Shibo, pressing her against her breasts. "Great! This is a new friend of mine and Ledley's! Her name's Shibo. She's one of the new apprentices! “She could use a hand being shown around the fort, you know, bathing rooms, bunkhouse… getting settled in. I was gonna do that myself, but I can't if I need to go talk to the bastard baroness." "A pleasure to meet you Shibo." Ayla bowed her head, introducing herself properly after the drama that had ensued. It was the least she could do. "You didn't think of showing her around when you met her?" She asked Yuka. "Fort Victoria can be pretty overwhelming for New Apprentices." "Hehe, don't I know. I needed to take a piss earlier and ended up in an empty room." Yuka chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Would you believe me if I told you I was waiting for the best navigator of Fort Victoria to return home?” "I wouldn't" "What if I told you that I was showing her all that famous Guildhand comradery by inviting her down for drinks in the sun?" She rubbed the back of her neck nervously once more. For a thief, Yuka didn't make a good liar when Ayla was involved. Everything became a joke. "Yuka~" The Bard put her hands on her hips sternly and shook her head with disappointment. "How did you meet her? It's not often you talk to the apprentices... unless your teasing them." You seem to forget your warnings for going too far with your pranks. “Okay, settle in. I’m going to tell you all about it. From the beginning!” Ayla already knew what was coming as Yuka puffed out her chest and cleared her throat. “You see, our fine lady had consumed too much wine at her royal banquet, and as such became incapacitated! As time passed, she felt the pressing, really dire urge to piss.” Yuka enticed her into the story with a worrisome stare. “It was leg-crossingly, pant-wettingly bad! Our fair lady, unable to contain her royal dam, tried her best to hold herself. But it was near hopeless… Until a noble saviour swept in! That saviour’s name?” She pointed over to Shibo, welcoming the girl into the story with a mock fanfare. “Shibo! This noble Knight offered to take our royal lady to the royal lavatory so that she could take a royal leak!” Ayla felt herself being pulled into the story, captivated by the fantastic storyteller that was Yuka. “So our brave Knight carried our fair lady, who tried and tried to hold it, sacrificing her own decency so she could avoid flooding her royal chambers! Finally, we arrived! The Princess was overjoyed, throwing herself from her saviour’s grasp so could finally tinkle, and oh what a tinkle it was going to be! But alas, an evil wizard had cast a cruel spell on the castle! Swapping the lavatory and another more barren room. The Princess had stumbled upon an empty room, devoid of a place for her to go!” Ahem! Both Ayla and Yuka looked over to Shibo, who cleared her throat. "I, uh, don't recall that part." She said, unimpressed. Yuka brushed off Shibo's qualms, a gesture that made Ayla giggle. “The Knight didn’t know of the vile curse! But the Princess could sense it!” Ayla always knew her best friend had a flair for theatre, and it showed. She continued listening with bated breath. “It felt like it was over. She leaked a royal leak as all hope was as drained as she wished to be. But there was still hope for our leaky princess.” Yuka points a powerful toward the lake. “The land of eternal hope! A land where any desperate girl could squat, stand and tinkle! The Princess had to make it here. She pleaded with the knight, but at first he was reluctant.” Ahem! Shibo cleared her breath again, this time looking agitated with her arms crossed firmly. "I'm not a he. Also she's only asking ho-" “Silence, Knight! This is the Princess’s rendition! So, the Knight was reluctant, but even he came around and saw the pain the Princess was in. Only the land of eternal hope could relieve her. So they ventured onward, out into the blazing heat. The Princess rode atop the Knight, too desperate to even walk…” Ayla felt her smile grow as she was further engrossed in this thrilling tale. It reminded her of the stories The Crafter would tell her. “We made it, and just in the nick of time! The Princess could see it, an unending sea before her. Delighted, knowing relief was just a second away, she hopped off the Knight and rushed to the waters edge. She pulled aside her royal attire and pissed, and oh did she piss! The lake water rose three inches that day! Peasants who drank from the lake were cured of any ailment. Including poverty! And at long last the Princess was relieved. To thank her noble Knight, she insisted he stay for wine, unaware that not only did wine make him tremendously gassy, but sleepy too. Our fine Princess would nap atop his glorious thighs! And that’s how it all happened!” After a moment of silence where it seems like Yuka is waiting for a thunderous applause, she shrugs her shoulders and smiles. “I hope we got the moral of the story: If in doubt, the land of eternal hope is here for you!" Shibo muttered something under her breath, too quiet for anybody else to hear. She began clapping slowly, looking awkwardly at Yuka, who takes a victory bow. "I didn't think you were such a good storyteller, bar some embellishment. You should be a playwright." "Embellishment is the mother of all modern tales." The Bard added. That was the first rule The Crafter had taught her. "I learned from the best, I did." Ayla found herself being pulled in and once again tangled in one of Yuka's hugs. "Seeing my fiery-haired little princess fucker is all the inspiration I need." "You're still my favourite storyteller in the whole realm." It's like being back with my older sister. Ayla thought as she wrapped her arms around Yuka, embracing her best friend. "You'll have to tell me what I've missed. In a similar manner, of course." "It's a date! For now though, I should go speak with the baroness before she beats me with the stick up her arse.” Off Yuka ran, stopping only to turn back to Ayla “So you’ll show Shibo around?” "Sure. I'm happy to help." The Thief vanished in the blink of an eye, using the speed she had built a reputation on. Even now watching her dart off into the distance still amazed Ayla. But once Yuka was gone, the air had grown quiet... and awkward. The Bard stood, being watched by Shibo and both were unsure what to say. Ayla adjusted her dress, swept back her hair and gave her new friend a kind smile and an offering of her hand. "Allow me to introduce myself properly this time!" She followed up with a bow. "My name is Addilyn Tsereteli, Bard of Balkana, Admirable Archer of the Arcane and and Royal-certified Guildhand of Guilden. Though... most just call me Ayla." She finished her excited introduction humbly. Shibo glared at Ayla, looking overwhelmed by The Bard's introduction. Ayla was used to that look, partly stuck between wanting to punch her in the face and wanting to warmly shake her hand. Thankfully, the former had only happened once. Shibo smacked her lips. "Shibo Kenshiko, though most just call me Shibo." She introduced herself with an awkward chuckle. "I, uh, am sorry I startled you while you were... you know." And then, unsure if it was driven by guilt, or stupidity, Ayla made the most bizarre offer. "If it'll make you feel any better... I could tell you a story about me?" What am I saying!? She couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth. The girl, brushing her green-hair aside, glared, unamused by the offer. "And what good would that do?" "Well..." Why am I still talking? "It might make you feel better if you hear something worse. I don't want us to get off on the wrong foot. Also it assures you that I won’t go gossiping, right? You’d be surprised how quickly word gets around this place." It's fine. She'll say no. Why would she want to hear something so ridiculous? "On second thought, I'm curious now." Shibo answered with a smug grin growing on her lips. "It is only right to accept the offer of embarrassing secrets." Gah! Of course she's one of Yuka's friends! She's a pervert! Ayla had expected her to say no. She would've taken some comfort in at least knowing she offered, but that brief moment of confusion from Shibo had made The Bard adamant she'd turn it down. Ayla twiddled her thumbs, damning herself for what she'd done. "Hehe... I guess I did offer that, huh?" With a beating heart and cheeks as red as beets, Ayla started delving into her most embarrassing story; she remembered it like it was just yesterday - a tale about herself and her friends going out for drinks to celebrate her rank as a Guildhand. Ayla started the story slow, regret troubling her for getting herself in this situation. She spoke of getting drunk, filling herself to the brim on every ale the tavern could offer. The taste of bitter dripped on her tongue as she recalled it. Just as she got to the part about being carried home drunk, Ayla felt her tongue weigh on her. She seized up and couldn't say another word of her story. "You know... the rest if pretty silly. You don't want to hear it." She chuckled nervously, hoping Shibo would be happy with just that. It didn't sit with Shibo, who merely shrugged her shoulders. "Would you mind continuing? You've made me curious now." "C-Curious about an embarrassing story." It's Matilda all over again. This girl is perverted. "You sound like my old girlfriend. Or Yuka." Again, Shibo shrugged her shoulders, showing that she was unwilling to hear anything against it. “I have to admit, Yuka’s story has put me in the mood for something with some bardic flair! And who better to tell it than a bard?” “Yeah but… I could tell you about dragons or a great siege or something… Does it need to be about me… and… pissing?” “It was your suggestion.” Shibo chuckled. “You don’t need to be so ashamed about telling me. Especially after… you know.” She pointed behind her, to the scene of the crime, still fresh. “Look at how Yuka told you her story so boldly. She told it like a bard, not sparing a single detail, and with a clear voice.” For the first time, Shibo sounded encouraging, but right now all that did was make Ayla even more uncomfortable. This girl REALLY wants to hear this. She grabbed the hem of her dress, rubbing her hands against the soft fabric. It made her feel at peace. “I d-don’t think bards tell these kinds of stories, especially to a big audience.” She rubbed her ruby cheeks. Shibo strutted past her and plopped herself down on a chair left on the dock. “Well for now, it’s just me. I’m your audience.” She leant forward in the chair. “Don’t be embarrassed. Think of it like any other story. Fighting a dragon, fighting legions of undead, just think of it like that!” Ayla covered her mouth, hiding a chuckle. “You’re… really eager to hear this aren’t you?” She said softly. She's a pervert, she's a pervert, she's a pervert. “You offered. A good bard doesn’t tell a story and stop halfway.” Shibo sat, hands crossed. “Just go when you’re ready. Take your time.” Although her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, Ayla clenched her fist. She was a bard, a creator of stories, and she wouldn't falter from the task. “Okay.” She brushed a strand of fiery hair from her eyes and took a deep breath. This would be the best performance Shibo had ever heard. “So later that night I woke up in pitch blackness. With all the drinking, and merriment going on in town, I didn’t get a chance to “Spend a penny” before bed. So I woke up fit to burst. A whole night of wine trying to break me down like the walls of a grand castle! In a really sloppy state, I was left with no choice but to drag myself to the privies.” I need movement! To show her what it was really like! Ayla began mimicking the motions of that night like they were happening again.“Do you know what it’s like moving around in the dark when you’re really drunk, plus you really need to piss? It’s not pleasant. I felt like a zombie, full of wine and piss, dragging my feet through the dark, eerie corridors of Fort Victoria on my quest for relief.” This isn't so bad. “I finally, after a long hobble through the halls, got to the privies. But do you know what I found? That they were locked! But!” She raised a finger. “Only the girls. So I did what any girl would do in my situation…” Her tongue began to seize again as memories of what happened next flooded her mind. “I used the boys privies…” "Don't be shy about it." Shibo, who looked enthralled, clenched her fist, urging her to carry on. "Just remember how Yuka told hers and keep going!" "Right!" Ayla felt reinvigorated, like she was telling a gripping, grand ballad before the courts of the finest castle. “So in I went, secretly and slyly, knowing if I’d be caught it would be over. A girl using the boys privy? I’d be chastised until the end of time! In I went, quiet as a whisper and to my own desperate dismay I noticed something horrible; the privies were nowhere to be seen, removed from existence…” Again, the haunting thoughts dulled the flame inside her. “...All there was… was the… iron t-trough… which I tried to… I pulled down my shorts and… in the trough…” She could still remember looking down at the dull steel trough, puzzling herself at how she was supposed to use it without the proper faculties. Looking disgusted, Shibo leant in. "You... didn't... in the..." SHE'S A PERVERT! “I g-got stage fright. Doing it like a boy, I couldn’t, no matter how much I had to go. Yuka makes it look so easy, huh?” Ayla could only shrug her shoulders. “Keeping a strong face… I zipped back up and ran back into the black night, at this point I wouldn’t make it much longer. Ah!” Remembering Yuka's own tale, Ayla thrust a finger toward the lake. “The land of eternal hope, as Yuka calls it! I just had to make it out of the fort and down to the waters edge. A bush, a tree, a ledge, that's not as embarrassing as in the boys! When you're a traveller, you're basically raised peeing in nature! So off I went! On my walk out, all I could think of was just getting it done, but then fate threw a horrible twist! I heard voices coming up from town. I couldn’t let those people see me in my state, nor could I let them know where I was going. So… I ran and hid in the stable until they could pass. But then, another cruel twist of fate for the poor bard! My attempts to avoid detection worked too well! one of the boys locked me in the stables, unaware of my presence. That..." That was the worst part. "Was the end of it. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Alone, drunk, and about to water myself like a plant… I did it right there… in the hay.” "Let me guess, somebody saw you making water in the hay?" There was a subtle look of disgust on Shibo's face. Ayla could barely see it, but she knew it was there. It had been much worst, but Ayla wasn't yet at that part. “You’d think that. But here's the biggest twist of the whole story." And here came the twist, the most important part of any story, but recounting her worst moment didn't give Ayla the energy she needed for the grand finale. "It was, actually, all a dream. I was sleeping, and… actually relieving myself… in my bed.” “Your bed?” Shibo asked. “My bed.” Ayla confirmed it. “Did anybody find out about it?” “Funny you should say that,” And here was the biggest twist, the twist of the twist. “I was sharing a bed with my g-girlfriend at the time. We were c-cuddling so, of course, I ended up making my water against her back.” Not that it bothered Matilda, she always had a thing for that. “She got pretty soaked.” The warm memories of her old lover made Ayla giggle. “I… uh… So that’s it! A tale as shameful as your own!" I need a moral! Yuka's story had a moral! All good stories have a moral! Aha! "You don’t need to be so ashamed about doing what we all do. We’re Guildhands! Adventurers! We pee where we have to, right?” Unable to think of anything else to say, Ayla finished her story with a thumbs up that must've looked as awkward as it felt. Shibo looked lost for words, her mouth was wide open but no words came out. "I... guess." She said, just saying something to fill the empty air. "But that story's just our little secret right?" Overcome with the excitement she hadn't felt in a long while, The Bard wrapped up her enchanting tale with a bow and a question. "I haven't had a chance to tell a story in a while, even if it was my most embarrassing one. So what did you think?" She expected praise, applause befitting of the best playwrights, but what Ayla expected was not what Ayla got. With a smug smile, Shibo crossed her arms. "I thought it was cute." "C-Cute?" C-Cute! She really is a pervert! She couldn't look a stranger in the eyes after being told that. I just told her a story about wetting myself... and she found it cute! "No! No! No! You weren't meant to say that!" Ayla screamed with scorn. "It's not a cute story! It was a recollection of my most embarrassing moment! It wasn't meant to be cute!" Her cheeks felt hot as blood rushed to them, she must have looked as red as a pepper. "You’re supposed to say that it made you feel better! That was my intention! You can’t call my most shameful moments cute!” What kind of pervert calls that kind of story cute!? "Well it did." Shibo shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I didn't find it adorable." She said with a smug smile. "Adorable?" She's doing this on purpose! She has to be! "I tell you that I peed myself and you tell me it was cute and adorable like you’re one of those sleazy patrons at the Le’moir!” Befitting of the sleaziest, filthiest hole in all of Guilden! That's the kind of pervert she is! Shibo gasped, recoiling with disgust. "What kind of voyeur do you take me for!?" She protested. "It's not lewd of me to tell you that story was adorable." "It wasn't adorable!" Ayla couldn't take it, she couldn't look this voyeur in the eyes any longer. All she saw in those gleaming eastern eyes was a girl imagining her making a large stain on her sheets. “Imagine if it was you in my situation, reeling, desperate, about to burst! Imagine dreaming that you're making your water, only to wake up and see you're pissing your bed… with your girlfriend still in it!” “I can’t say I went in my bed...” With a gentle jerk of her finger, Shibo pointed once again to the large damp patch on the stone. “But please don’t make me say it." “Oh… r-right...” Ayla glanced over Shibo's shoulder. “I f-forgot.” Now she just felt guilty, retreating from Shibo's gaze and burying her head beneath her long fiery locks. “I can’t really speak, can I? I guess you do know what it’s like." Wanting to lighten the mood, she chuckled. "At least you didn't do it up somebody though." “Can we move on from this?” Shibo sighed. It was obvious she'd grown weary of the conversation. “Would you mind showing me up to the chambers?" Ha! We can move on from this! "Gladly! Grab your bag and let's get going. It's quite a way from the Undercroft!" Ayla rushed off toward the stairs, expecting Shibo to be right behind her. She'd hoped the new apprentice would be excited about seeing her new quarters, but as Ayla looked back to check, it was obvious she did not share her energy. "I... um, do you need a moment for anything else?" Shibo shook her head, hoisted her rucksack over her shoulder and followed Ayla into the Undercroft. The girls ventured through the bowels of the fort. To fill the silence, Ayla talked about Yuka, warning Shibo for what she'd gotten herself into. The blonde haired thief that Ayla called her best friend drank endlessly, farted when she pleased, and groped most things in range of her and to most apprentices that was enough for them to keep their distance. Shibo was well aware and didn't seem so bothered about being teased. But the best part came when Ayla shared the one thing about Yuka that made most people almost faint with disbelief. "She's royal-certified." The sounds as Shibo stammered and stuttered, trying to reply to what she'd just heard gave Ayla a fit of the giggles. At least she didn't go pale, or shriek, or question it violently, believing she was being tricked. She looked to be frozen in time, jaw agape, trying to make sense of what she'd just been told. The Royal Guildhands were the best of the Guild, and to see a girl with such poor conduct carry that rank and its reputation was too much for some people to understand. Past the spiral stairs, the girls had a run-in with two of the guilds more reclusive workers. It was Shibo who noticed first, retreating back into the corridor when she heard the approaching footsteps. "Shibo, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "I'm fine, just a little startled by the footsteps, is all." Yuka's been gossiping about them hasn't she? It was a petty pasttime of Yuka's to beguile apprentices about the girls in the Undercroft, making them out to be demons who worked in the shadows, feasting on people who strayed down here. And Ayla wondered why Lucina wanted her in her study. The girls walked out into the corridor and were met by Andi, the assistant, and daughter of Fort Victoria's distinguished gunsmith, the small dark-haired engineer Margo. Although her short stature and pudgy face gave her the appearance of a child, Margo was older than expected. Eighteen years. She kept much of figure concealed beneath a dark, oil-smelling cloak. Andi, after her usual warm greetings, spoke to Shibo. Ayla was surprised to see the two had met, especially after their falling out with Yuka. From what she heard, it seemed that Shibo was supposed to meet Andi and her mother for tea, but based on the compromising position Ayla had found her in, and Yuka's fondness for her, it looked like that didn't happen. “I didn’t know she’d made plans with you both. Heh, if I’d known I’d have offered to walk her to the gunsmith." She said nothing of where Shibo had been, or who she'd been with. That was best for all. They converse a short while, but not for too long. After a half-arsed introduction by Margo, Andi was interrupted by her pulling at her dress, looking quite impatient. "Andi, can we please-" She winces, her feet crossed beneath the confines of her cloak, "I drank quite a bit of tea." Andi leaned down and whispered into her mothers ear. "Can you not hold it another min-" "No, now Andi!" She began pushing Andi down the corridor, off towards the privies with fuming impatience. "I can't stand another minute for you to idly chit-chat." The girls disappeared toward the privies before Andi could finish her conversation, leaving Ayla and Shibo alone in the corridors. “Don’t take it personally.” Ayla said, trying to lighten the mood. “Margo rarely speaks to anybody in the guild. She shows up, works in the gunsmith and then heads home.” She rarely does anything else. She's just in there all day with Andi. “She doesn’t get along with most of us. I used to talk with her and Andi all the time, but she and Yuka had a… falling out…” “A falling out?" With a heartsunk frown, Ayla described their strained relationship. "She and Yuka had a small "disagreement" about something. We don't like to talk about it.” She put it plainly, sparing the details that even she didn't like to recount. Suddenly, the thought of the nearby privies reminded Ayla that she had urgent business to attend to. She had wished to make a deposit at the privy before Lucina had her off hunting down Yuka and now she was growing desperate, the weight of last nights feast was pushing down on her lower tummy. I guess since I'm here, I could use the privies down there. "Do you mind if I make a quick stop before we head up?" Ayla felt her cheeks grow warm. "I, umm, just need to take care of something. It's okay if you want to keep going." Please say yes. "You probably want to get settled in right?" Please say yes. "I can wait if you're eager to get to your new quarters." Shibo shrugged her shoulders, she didn't seem too bothered. "Sure." She replied. That was all Ayla wanted to hear. She'd been desperate to go since getting back, but now she was struggling to hold it. "T-Thank you. I've been travelling all night and didn't have a chance to stop." Not to deal with this anyway. "I hadn't even got to unpack my stuff before the Guildmaster had me looking for Yuka." She rushed down the corridor, but as if the lords of fate had spat in her face, tragedy struck, and Ayla could see she wouldn't be using the lavatory the moment she saw a very animated Margo staring up in pain at the door. For herself, Ayla didn't mind; It was just a mild inconvenience. But for Margo, who was shuffling on her feet, pressing her hands between her legs, it was a different story. "What's wrong with the lavatory?" Ayla asked. "It's out of order." Andi replies with a disappointed sigh. "Mother should-" Margo didn't wait to listen to her daughter. Already, the pudgy engineer was storming back off down the hallway, muttering curses in her native tongue. Although Ayla was barely versed in the tongue of Steilheim, she was certain she heard the word "fuck" more than once. "Mother! W-Wait up!" Andi rushed off after her. All four girls reunited in the corridors. Margo pacing back and forth, continuing to curse. Her usual pale face was glowing red as she bit her lip, wincing in agony. "Mother... It's not too bad, is it?" Andi asked with a sorrowful voice. "I drank a whole pot of tea, what do you think!?" At least you didn't eat an entire table of food. Ayla commented in her head. "Would you feel better if we went down to the lake?" Her daughter suggested. "You could tinkle there." For a girl so reserved, the thought of pissing in a murky lake filled Margo with disgust, and it showed as her face twisted at the thought. But to Ayla, it looked like there was a brief moment of contemplation. "P-Please" She shook her head. “I have some semblance of decency! I’m not that wine-drinking fotze who sullies where she pleases!” "I can't go down to the lake either." Ayla added. I wish I could. "I, uh, need to use a privy." If she had to piss, she wouldn't have had a doubt of squatting over the water and relieving herself there, but the thought of crimping off a solid length in the lake was a thought too vile for The Bard to comprehend. Without warning, Margo wandered off again, this time off toward the upper halls of the Fort. “We’ll just have to go up to the halls." She was already far down the corridor, her words traipsing into an echo. I... I need to go with them. I can't hold it in much longer. With a warm brow, Ayla placed her hand on Shibo's shoulder. "D-Do you m-mind if we g-go with them?" Shibo did not object, and with her permission, both girls caught up with Andi and Margo. The nearest facilities after the Undercroft were in the dining hall. On the walk, Ayla feared the hall would be packed. Over a hundred Guildhands filling their empty bellies and relieving their full bladders after a hard day on the training yards. The line would be long, longer than she'd be able to wait. She walked slowly, keeping her pace with Margo, who waddled along, wincing with every step. Andi and Shibo continued their conversation, leaving Ayla to her own business. She focused all of her strength on holding herself. She clenched her fists in a desperate need to distract herself from the pain in her belly. Her steps were rough and slow, the hard head of the turtle pushing against her hole with every step. “Ayla? How are you feeling?” She had been so distracted she didn't even notice Shibo had asked her. Like I could just go in my knickers. "Ha! I'm fine!" She downplayed her own urges, hiding too that her issues lay with her bowels, not her bladder. "Seeing the lavatory though, made me feel a bit weaker." “Where are we going, anyway?” Shibo looked around at the girls, waiting for any to answer. “The dining hall. That’s the nearest lavatory from here.” Andi is the first, and most willing, to answer. She looked down at her mother and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Mother, are you sure you wouldn’t be better just using a beaker in the sm-” "Don’t say another-” Margo was not keen on the attention, rejecting her mother with a push. “Please just… silence until we get to the lavatory.” The rest of their walk was in silence, the only sounds were the soft whimpers of Margo as she ferried a full bladder up the stairs and along to the dining halls. Through the empty corridors, the girls finally arrived in the large hall of the fort. And it was just as Ayla had feared. She didn't care for the tables full of fighters ripping away at their meals. Her eyes immediately went toward the lavatory at the rear of the hall. "Look at that line..." She said miserably, raising a finger toward the line of desperate people waiting patiently outside the privies. "We couldn't have come at a worse time." "What do you want to do, mother?" Andi looked down at her mother, who was bulging beneath her cloak, her short stubby legs shaking. "Should we just go home and you can use our toilet?" "I don't think I can suffer the long walk home." Margo squeaked. "T-There are facilities in the living quarters, correct? T-Those are closer. We'll just have to use them." The living quarters!? The very thought of suffering the long walk to the rear of the castle made Ayla falter for a brief moment. In the moment of weakness, she felt her tightly puckered hole unclench, something slimy poking slightly from her opening. The Bard winced and pressed her hands against her hole. "They're all the way in the north wing!" Suddenly, her hand caught something nestled in her pocket. Ayla remembered. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was saved. She raised her hand meekly and grabbed the attention of all three girls. "I, uh... have an idea. We could u-use the lavatory in the Guildmaster's q-quarters." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. "I, uh, have a key." The girls glared at the silver key in Ayla's hand. "Why on earth do you have a key for the Guildmaster's quarters?" Margo, of the three girls, was the one to ask. "I got it from Lucina." And forgot to give it back/ "And we're welcome to use her facilities?" Ayla chuckled nervously. "Not exactly. I, uh, borrowed this key and forgot to give it back." Both girls stared at the key with devilish temptation. The Guildmaster's quarters was just up one set of stairs. The finest chamber in the whole fort, and she had a key for it. She'd been in there plenty of times, but never had she used the privy. She could only imagine it being a grand room, lavished with the most fragrant flowers and a marble box to sit your arse atop. The thought was too tempting to pass up, but she needed to hear from the other girls first. Finally, Margo opposed, turning her back on the key. "I can't, and neither can you. We're not getting in trouble for trespassing." Oooh... I was hoping she'd say yes! The visions of a sweetly-scented marble privy were fading from her mind. "I have to agree with Margo." Shibo added. "We can't trespass in the Guildmaster's quarters just to use their toilet." "S-See?" Margo pointed toward Shibo. "At l-least she has some s-sense!" Andi spoke up too. "I agree with mother and Shibo. Lucina wouldn't appreciate us trespassing in her quarters and using her facilities. No matter how desperate the situation." "We have some respect for her privacy. I also quite enjoy my work, even if it is in a dark filth-ridden dungeon. I'm not going to damn that for the sake of my comfort." Margo spoke like a cannon fired, hitting Ayla's gut with a growing feeling of guilt with each word she spoke. The tone of her voice growing angrier. "You said the other lavatories were in the living quarters, right Ayla?" Shibo asked. "That's all the way in the north tower!" Ayla replied with a whimper. Just thinking about the privy made her hole quiver. "If I don't get to privy soon I'm going to..." Ahh! I can't say it out loud! The Bard shuffled on her feet, turning her eyes away from Shibo. She could feel the warmth as blood rushed to her cheeks. "Might go..." That was the only way she could say it, like an embarrassed little girl. "You can hold it." Shibo said with an encouraging smile. The apprentice did her best to be supportive. Uhh... I wanted to go use Lucina's privy so badly. I can't go on my own. "You're right." Ayla returned the apprentice's smile. "It'd be rude to just invite myself into Lucina's quarters and use her privy lavatory." I really need to... "Let's just go." And then, without warning, horror swept over her; Ayla's eyes widened, her lips trembled. From her quivering hole, a small tuff of wind escaped. Ah! Ayla wanted to scream, it wasn't loud but it was certainly ripe, polluting the air around her. "We need to get going now! Right now! Now! Now! Now!" As if possessed, The Bard grabbed Shibo by the shoulder and vacated the dining hall. Please don't smell it! Please don't smell it! Please don't smell it! "Did I hear something just now?" Shibo asked with a puzzled look. Ah! She heard it! "No! Nothing! Nothing at all! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" Ayla pushed Shibo out into the corridor. Already she felt another gurgle and her urge to break wind was growing. Her stomach felt bloated, her ring began twitching as she tried to hold in the impending fart. Once she was in the corridor Ayla walked frantically toward an open window in the middle of the corridor. She turns her butt to the window and let loose there, the air lifting her skirt, and let the wind carry her foul air. Thankfully for The Bard nobody seemed to care that she'd rushed off. Shibo and Andi were distracted by Margo, who had stopped just outside the dining hall. Her face tensed up and the engineer fell onto her knees, still covered by her long cloak. Please no! Ayla pleaded with the gods of fate. Margo looked incapacitated, so full to the brim that she could no longer stand on her own two feet. The girls chatted out of earshot of Ayla, who was busy dealing with her own problems out of earshot of the girls. She could see Andi and Margo whispering to each other, which was never a good sign. Margo only ever resorted to whispers when it was something rather unpleasant that she didn't wish to share. "What's the matter?" Ayla called back to her friends. Please hurry! "Mother is feeling a bit... over-encumbered. She just needs a moment." Another toot polluted the fresh air, riper than the last. Ayla grimaced, grasping her belly and hobbling up and down. "I d-don't think I have a moment!" The weight of her bowels made it feel like there was a landslide pushing against her puckered ring, about to break free into her knickers. "P-Please hurry!" Shibo looked up from consoling Margo, her eyes glanced at The Bard as she let loose in the wind for a third time. “Ayla, can you hold it a little longer? Just while Margo has a moment to pull herself together. You should go on ahead if you can't." "Ah... I-I..." I-I'd love to... There was nothing Ayla wanted more than to rush off, but she couldn't. But a Royal Guildhand must put others before themselves. She remembered the oath she had sworn. If she abandoned Margo and rushed off to selfishly cater to her own needs she wouldn't forgive herself. "No, it's f-fine." Even thinking about it filled her with guilt, the thought of breaking her honour and leaving a helpless girl to an unfortunate accident. "It wouldn't be fair to Margo if I left you all and took care of myself." "That's very considerate of you, Ayla." Andi smiled. "But please don't make yourself uncomfortable for mother's sake." The Bard let loose another toot, wetter than the last three, growing the fear that she had just drawn mud in her knickers. "It's n-no problem, Andi. I can wait." I can't wait! Please hurry! She tried to disguise her discomfort with a feigned smile that didn't last long. It was at that moment, just when things seemed bleak for both desperate girls, that an unlikely thing occurred. "I don't mind carrying you, Margo." Shibo knelt down on one knee and offered herself to Margo. Everything went silent as Margo and Andi whispered among themselves. Ayla kept her distance, squeezing her thighs and fighting against the forces bearing down on her anus. Her muscles were beginning to feel weak, trembling. She was losing the fight, but she had to hold out. All she could do now was relieve the pressure in her tummy by the open window, concealing the evidence of the vile acts committed by her rear. The girls whispered among themselves again. And finally, much to Ayla's joy, Margo agreed to the odd proposition. She wrapped her arms around Shibo's shoulders and allowed the new apprentice to carry her. Haa... we can get going! I n-need to hurry, I can feel the troll coming out of the cave!" Right, can we g-get going please?" Feeling her stomach settle briefly, Ayla approached the girls. "We've got the whole fort to walk through." The walk was agony, worse than she could imagine. Ayla could hardly walk, moving with a stiff, rigid movement. It felt like she was walking with a rod up her backside, every step jostling it loose. To make it worse, she was forced to match the speed of Shibo, who carried Margo with caution and care. Her stomach grumbled, her legs trembled, and it was beginning to look impossible. The wind was the worst part, her gut gurgled and the only resistance was the weakening muscles of her rectum, clenching her ring shut with dwindling strength. It was the worst for Ayla near the north tower. As the girls walked through the corridors, Ayla felt herself slip, and as she took a rogue step forward, her sphincter unclenched, and the fart she had been holding escaped with a loud, indistinct creak. Her cheeks burned like wildfire as she caught glimpse of two apprentices out on the balcony, enjoying an evening puff of their pipes. The girls behind her looked around, trying to make out the source of the creaking sound; Shibo was the one to ask. "Did I just hear a floorboard creak?" "Ha... yep! Loose floorboards!" Ayla chuckled. I need to go before they realize floorboards don't leave such a smell. A few more minutes of agonizing walking. There was only silence between the girls, leaving Ayla with the teasing thoughts in her head. Margo looked no better, pressing herself against Shibo and whimpering every few steps. This is embarrassing... I feel like a little girl being guided to the privy. Everybody we pass keeps looking... The pressure in her gut made her feel bloated again, like she was going to pop. I... really... need to... fart... She needed to get away just for a moment. If she could get somewhere quiet, she could at least relieve herself of some of the air in her tummy. Luckily, the last corridor before the tower was connected to the old balconies overlooking the lake. The balcony! Perfect! She clapped her hands together gleefully. She just needed to slip away for a moment and then relief could be hers. Ayla stopped just before doorway to the balcony. "Hey, you guys go on ahead without me. I... need a moment."Ayla addressed her friends with a straining voice. She tried to keep her composure, clenching the muscles of her rectum as tightly as her strength would allow her. "Okay, let's go, Shibo." Margo was accepting of the idea, pressing her thighs against Shibo and spurring her forward like a horse. "Mother, no! Ayla was kind enough to wait for you. We'll be kind enough to wait for her." Andi addressed Margo sternly with a waggle of her finger. "You're a grown girl, you can hold it in for a moment." "Are you not aware of my current circums-" "Do what you have to do, Ayla. But please be quick." Andi ignored her mother and spoke to directly to Ayla. She gestured toward the doorway she was heading toward, ignoring the desperate mutterings of Margo who continued to squirm impatiently on Shibo's shoulders. They're not even going to ask? Ha... thank the heavens. "Thank you, Andi. I promise I'll be quick." With her friends waiting, Ayla staggered out onto the walkway, almost doubled over as her stomach felt like it was about to pop. She feared a wrong move would be enough to ignite the bubbles brewing in her gut. She was alone out here, nobody would hear the sinful sounds that would come from her backside. Her cheeks were burning; even when she was alone, Ayla felt embarrassed about breaking wind. The sound, the smell, anybody passing could catch a whiff, but right now she had no choice. She was completely alone. She walked to the very end of the balcony, as far away from the door as she could. Once she was certain nobody would hear the evidence, Ayla turned, aiming her butt towards the lake, and as soon as she heard the wind whistle, let loose a reeking whistle of her own. Oooh... I needed that. The pressure in her gut abated as Ayla let a gust of wind loose in her knickers. "Haa..." She moaned, quivering with glee. That one was skirt-lifting. Her stomach rumbled and within seconds the need to break wind was already overwhelming. Ayla leant back on the railing and let out a second tuff of wind. She squeaked as the second toot came with more than just a foul smell. Something reared its slimy head again, pushing against her hole. Ah! The troll's almost out of the cave! She couldn't idle any longer. She rushed back into the corridors, keeping her hands behind her back, subtly holding them against her puckered ring. If she didn't get to the privy soon, there'd be a mess to clean up. "Ha, sorry about that." Ayla re-approached the party, keeping her composure, albeit poorly. Her knees were weak, trembling, about to give in as she felt the urge to just squat down and fill her knickers. "I was just making sure... the city was... okay!" She bumbled, piecing together the first words that came into her head. What a pisspoor excuse, they'll know something was amiss... I can't tell them I just went to fart... it'd be embarrassing. Thankfully, none of the girls looked interested in asking. Margo was squirming on Shibo's back, each uncomfortable shuffle the small girl made looked to be her last. She buried her head in Shibo's shoulder while Andi tried to comfort her mother, reassuring her that soon they'd be at the privy. Thank the heavens. Rigid and stiff, but with her stomach somewhat settled, Ayla pushed on with the girls, on toward the north tower. The lavatory in the north tower resided down a short, dimly lit corridor. A lone wooden door marked the entrance and before she even got close, Ayla could sense something was amiss. She could make out the note pinned to the door and she knew it was not a good sign. Dockert... you senile old... Gah! What's happening this time? "No! No! No!" She dashed ahead of the other girls and ripped the note from the door, desperate to read it. A note to all apprentices: “There’s only one working privy while we fix the waterway beneath the halls. So if you’ve got to squirt out that rancid filth they serve in the mess, you can turn back ‘round and shit there. Don’t worry, we’re not going to have you pissing from the balconies all night. Work’ll be done shortly after dinner. So keep your arseholes puckered 'til then” - Dockert "Oh thank heavens... I thought we were in trouble." "What? What does it say?" Just as she finished reading the note was yanked from her hands by Margo, who glanced over it, crumpled it up and threw it on the floor. “A-At least one is still functional… that old custodian is still good for some…” Margo froze, and then without warning, struck the door open with her foot. "Just one more door!" “Hold on! What do we d-do about the o-one stall?” Andi exclaimed, sounding as worried as both desperate girls. “Both of you need to go?” Neither girls answer her question. Ayla didn't want to think about how it would be done. She was on the verge of soiling herself, and looking at how frantically Margo struck the door, she was on the verge of wetting herself. Both girls needed to get to the privy and only then could they decide who would get to plop themselves down first. The familiar sight of the lavatory. At last, Ayla was here. She smiled with glee, just another minute and she'd be seated, knickers around her knees and unloading the burdens of her stomach. She glanced around, seeing the one privy open to her, the small wooden box waiting for her, teasing her. "Ha~" That was the best sight she'd seen all day. "Excuse me!" She walked off toward the alcove that housed the small wooden box. It's coming out! But just as she reached the door, standing a mere inch away from relief. Something stops her. "N-No!" It was Margo, who had called out in protest. "I need to g-go first! I've been w-waiting long enough!" "I have too!" I've been waiting longer! I've been waiting a whole day! Ayla wanted to yell, but she was too shy to do it. Even now as she stood with her legs shaking. "P-Please don't make me beg." I d-don't want to soil myself. "I don't want to say what will happen if I don't use the privy." It's almost touching my knickers. Ayla sighed. The sight of Margo, squirming on Shibo's back, gritting her teeth and moaning quietly into the sleeve of her jacket, made Ayla feel guilty. Uuuh... "You're right." Defeated, Ayla stepped aside and offered the privy to Margo. "“You’re right. I shouldn't be selfish. You've been waiting longer than I have.” Margo looked as if she cracked a smile and she lowered herself from Shibo's back. "Put me down, Shibo." She waddled along, the front of her cloaking bulging as she grasped herself. "I shan't..." But as Margo waddled desperately toward the privy, the plump brown snake she'd been holding in reared it's moist head from between her cheeks, spreading her hole. It was already descending. Ayla tried to resist, tried to pull back the snake unfurling, but her muscles couldn't cope, weary from the struggle. She couldn't hold it in anymore. She couldn't wait another second, let alone another minute. The inviting sight of the open wooden hole was too much for her quivering anus to bear. She had to go. Right now. And then, Ayla did something even she wasn't expecting. She booled past Shibo and Margo, hunched over, grasping her stomach and pushed past the old wooden door. SLAM! She pulled the door shut, bolting the lock with her one good hand, the other already fumbling to pull down her knickers. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ayla squealed once she had realized her selfishness. "If I don't go right now, I'm going..." A spike of fear halted her tongue. Behind her shaking legs her anus twitched, the weight she could feel was slipping between her cheeks. "Ah! I'm sorry!" She hooked both hands around her knickers and yanked them down. The log had already pushed itself out, dangling over the dark hole beneath her. "Ah!...ah...ahh!" the wooden box creaked as Ayla plopped herself down. Her stomach cramped for a brief moment, the intensity making the poor bard wince. The moist log spread her hole wider, slithering between her crack like a long, hot snake. "Ahhh~" The soft, sloppy consistency forced the snake to break up into smaller, sloppy lengths that plopped into the depths below. The small box-like privy filled with a muddy squelching that crackled against the hot air, polluted with the stench as she expelled. The relief was overwhelming. Once the cramps had settled, Ayla felt her stomach lighten as she pushed off a length of the log. With a firm clench of her ring, her anus winced, crimping off the length she had produced. two, smaller sloppier logs followed from her muddied cave, plopping down into the depths beneath her with a small rain of mud. Each release began with a dirty toot that tickled the walls of her rear hole. The feeling, coupled with the relief of unloading made Ayla quiver. But that wasn't the end of it; Ayla's stomach bubbled and with a small push, a final muddy toot gasped from her backside. "Hmm..." Ayla grinned, feeling the last of the pressure in her gut fade into the dark, polluted hole beneath her. Her stomach gurgled, and a small bout of pressure filled her lower tummy. One final log needing to be expelled. "Verdamme Fotze!" The angry foreign curses of Margo ruined the silence Ayla was enjoying. Ayla yelped, her heart began racing, her teeth bit against her lip with guilt. Fearing the door was going to be opened she lifted her knees and pressed her hands against her chest to conceal her maidenly garden. The shock of Margo's attempts at intruding gave the bard stage fright. The log she was trying to force out retreated like a scared turtle to its shell. Her stomach cramped again; A brief pain in her gut that made Ayla wince once more. "Just give me one more minute!" She whimpered, the banging wracking her with guilt as Margo slammed harder against the door. No matter how much she strained or shook, trying to push the last of the brown slop from her bowels, it wouldn't come. It was a stubborn one, lingering at the edge of her ring. She could feel the small round budge yearning for release. The banging echoed. It was haunting. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! For a small girl she possessed a hand of solid steel. Ayla whimpered, the banging wracking her with guilt as Margo slammed harder against the door. Suddenly, the banging stopped. Silence filled the stall. Drip! Drip! Drip! Like a faucet leaking, a piddling sound prattled in the quiet air. A small pale puddle crept along the ground, beneath the small gap in the door. The piddling grew more intense, into a muffled hiss that lasted for several seconds. The puddle growing beneath the door continued to grow, forming a pool that rested near her boots. Everything went quiet again. Now a strong scent of urine mixed with the foulness of the privy, producing a stink that curdled The Bard's nose. "Eh, is everything okay out there?" Ayla asked. In her gut, she knew exactly what had happened, but she didn't have the heart to acknowledge it. "Y-Yes!" "Okay. It's just that..." "I said everything is fine!" Margo responded venomously. Before The Bard could say anything else, a powerful strike hit the door, causing her to yelp and lift her feet. Margo's angry... She squirmed on the seat of the privy, shifting from cheek to cheek. She sat, twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the last length of her mess to slide from her hole. She pushed, her starfish twitching as she tried her hardest to push it out. Pfft! but all she could push out was a puff of foul air. "Hmm..." She grumbled. She reached for the small wooden holder beside the privy, hoping for some paper to wipe with. Empty. She shuffled on the privy, looking beside her, behind her, even above her for something to wipe her backside with, but there was nothing. "Hey Shibo, a-are you still there?" Ayla was given no choice but to ask those her friends waiting outside the door. "I, uh, do any of you have any tissues in your rucksacks? There's none in here." "I have some, give me a second to find them." Her rucksack shuffled as Shibo rooted around for her tissues. Ayla bent down and took a gander at her knickers, fearing one of her earlier farts had drawn mud. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw they were still as white as when she'd put them on that morning. There was a tap on the door. "Here you g-go. Should I just open the door?" "N-No! I'll j-just..." Ayla leant forward, feeling the wet mud on her cheeks squeezing together, and pulled the door open with just enough space to put her hand out. She fiddled around, waiting for the tissues to be placed in her hand. "They smell nice." She sniffed them. Mint, one of her favourites. "Like mint." She sat forward, squeezing the tissue until it crumpled and felt her stomach gurgle. "Umm... I have another favour. Would you minding running a faucet? J-Just for a minute?" The sound of running water always loosened her up. When on the trail and making a stop in the bushes, if she couldn't go, Ayla always listened to the river. The sounds of rushing water always helped to soften up her stomach. "S-Sure." Shibo sounded confused but she accepted the strange request without question. The faucet creaked and right after the lavatory was filled with the rushing sounds of water. Ayla leant forward, wrapping both hands around her stomach and closed her eyes. She let the gentle sounds of rushing water wash over her, imagining herself beside a long river. She shuffled again on the privy and finally felt the small log slip from her hole, dropping into the hole with a tiny splat. The Bard breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, it was over. Much better... I'd been sitting on that all day. She grabbed the tissues she'd gotten from Shibo and wiped away the mess from her backside, using a generous helping of the sheets to clean off the muck. As soon as she felt spotless between the cheeks, Ayla yanked up her panties, and opened the privy door. Patting her now empty tummy, Ayla stepped out from the stall. Upon walking out, the first step she took was into something wet. "Ah! What did I just step in!?" Horrified, she slowly tilted her head down, looking upon a massive lake that was spreading around the tiled floor. "Please tell me I just stepped in water!" She cringed, her skin feeling prickly as she stared down at the darkened patch on the front of her boot. "It was," A small smirk began growing on Shibo's face, "a few hours ago." M-Margo's p-p-pee! "Ah! Ew!" As gracefully as a drunken dancer, Ayla leapt over the puddle, but it only got worse. There was a soggy splatter, and Ayla felt the specks of something warm touch her bare legs. "Ah! I think it splashed on my leg!" She creased up, holding back her need to scream. P-Pee! And I've stood in it! Ew! Ew! Ew! She only made things worse for herself as she began wiping off the specks with her bare hands. Ah! What am I doing!? "Ew! Now it's on my hands!" Her hands felt dirty, sullied, defiled, like she'd wiped them through the puddle. "This is what I get for going first! I'm being punished!" The sink! The sink! She rushed for the sink and ran her hands under the running faucet. The warmth of the water washed over her hands. It felt like heaven all over again. Shibo watched, letting a sly giggle escape at The Bard's misfortune. Ayla couldn't believe it. What had started as a night of wanting some rest had turned into a horrible nightmare. She had met a perverted, yet polite apprentice and found herself walking the entire length of the Fort with a length of her own perched between her cheeks. For her, the day couldn't get much worse, but Ayla would take something good away from this. Sometime in the future, she'd look back at this day and remember her first meeting with Shibo Kenshiko: The Guild Apprentice.
  9. Hey, thought I’d share my latest video in spire of some slightly embarrassing noise related mishaps. I have the night to myself, so decided to kick it off a few hours ago by getting some drinks in, with the end goal of weeing myself. This went smoothly. However, when the time came, and I sat on my mat and started videoing, I got a wave of performance anxiety lol. I was relaxing myself, but I wasn’t weeing. I relocated to the shower. Standing in it, knowing that cleanup is reduced significantly, sometimes makes things easier. But I still wasn’t weeing. So I pushed. After about two minutes (which I’ve cut), I finally started wetting myself. However, I’ve had tummy problems today. And while I thought I was clear of them for the time being, while pushing to wee, I also farted a few times. And had a (very minor, and not visible in the video) accident with one of them. This did not please me. Still, I’m glad I was in the shower at least lmao. And the drinks haven’t worn off yet, so I’ll share it anyway, even though it’s bad. https://caryspee.tumblr.com/post/166268515228/lesson-learnt-dont-push-too-hard-to-wee-yourself
  10. Hey, all! In my introduction, I mentioned that I had plans to possibly put together some comics. To that end, I set about planning some possible story ideas. The one that I liked the most involved wetting and possibly messing at a fancy dress party. Now that I've shared some art with you, I felt that I should share some of my writing with you too. Below you'll find some words that I've written, based on that particular story idea. I'd love to hear any feedback you have! I've received some very kind comments so far in my art thread, so thank you! WARNING! CONTAINS SWEARING, FARTING, AND IMPLIED POOP DESPERATION!
  11. Well folks this is my first wetting video and I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated. Warning: Partial Nudity Video: bit.ly/1V6qFGv I briefly documented this hold yesterday while I was snowed in. You can read that too if you feel so inclined. https://omorashi.org/topic/29833-a-desperate-snow-day/
  12. [Hello all! This piece of fiction was inspired by a picture I stumbled upon while browsing Scat Booru! Enjoy~ ;3] Trinity was a huge gamer. So much so that she often tosses her need to use the bathroom to the side. She always made it to the bathroom though, but it was always just on time. This time, however, she refused to get up. Trinity was sitting on the floor on her knees in front of the television, playing her video game intently. Trinity's need to use the bathroom was getting worse by each passing second as she denied to go. Her stomach rumbled violently, sending cramps to her bum. Trinity whinced each time a cramp hit her. Pretty soon, it would come out, whether she wanted it to or not. A few minutes later, her stomach rumbled yet again, the mess inside slowly getting closer to its exit. Trinity grimaced as a fart escaped from her rear uncontrollably. The smell from her flatulence spread throughout the air where she sat, making her wrinkle her nose a little. She pushed, releasing yet another smelly fart into the air, intensifying the smell of her gas. Her farts moved her closer to her messy fate. But Trinity still refused to get up to use the bathroom. "Ugh... It smells now.. But I can't get up! I want to keep playing!" Trinity protested. Her stomach rumbled again, as if in protest against her choice to keep playing, sending sharp cramps down to her bum as she whinced, another crackly fart erupting from her rear. Around twenty minutes later, her rear wouldn't stop cramping, her room now smelling of her farts. Trinity wanted to feel the relief she felt from her farts before, and pushed, releasing a slightly bubbly fart out into the air, the smell in her room beginning to worsen. She didn't care at this point, continuing to push her smelly fart out. Just then, her fart grew wetter and more bubbly, but Trinity continued pushing, wanting to get as much air out as she could. A sudden, muffled squish emanated from her rear as brown mush escaped with her fart. Trinity had just sharted. The seat of her panties now coated with brown mush. Still, trinity kept pushing out the nasty shart. She didn't care that she was sharting, she just wanted more relief. Sounds of runny farts continued to fill the room, the seat of her pants continuing to grow damper before she pushed once more, a loud squish sounding from her rear. No more air escaped as pure brown mush filled the seat of her panties, the slightly solid mush inside now inching out. Her mess inside slowly began sliding out, now poking out as it made it's escape. "Oh.. I think I'm going to have an accident..." Trinity told herself, despite already having an accident during her messy fart. But even though she partly knew the inevitable, she still refused to go use the bathroom. The poo poking out slid out even more, making it even more uncomfortable. "Ugh.. I can't hold it anymore.." Trinity said as she relaxed her bum. Without pushing, the mess began sliding out with a muffled crackle. Her brown-stained panties slowly began tenting out as the log of poo slowly met cotton, then pushing out further. A shameful crackle emanated from Trinity's rear as she slowly began pooping her pants. "Ugh.. I'm having an accident.." She told herself shamefully. The mess began piling up in itself in the seat of Trinity's panties, forming a growing bulge in her panties, the bulge starting to show on her denim shorts. Trinity just wanted the mess to end, so pushed, forcing a torrent of softer mush to rush out into the rear of her panties, a loud, muffled Crckrckrckrckle to sound throughout her bedroom. The bulge grew to enormous proportions before the erupting mess finally stopped escaping into her pants. Not before long, her room started to reek of her messy accident. Her green shorts started to stain in the rear. "Oh my god.. I just shit my pants..." She told herself shamefully. Even though Trinity had made a mess in her panties, she still refused to get up to clean herself. "I.. guess it's not to bad" She admitted to herself. Trinity spent the next 4 hours in her messy pants, playing her video game before she got up to go clean up. Trinity quite liked having that accident, afterall.
  13. Sorry for such a strange request but after seeing a video on here from awhile ago, I developed a fart fetish. I'm craving to see if there's any videos with peeing/wetting combined with farting but they seem very hard to find. At least, finding them without scat/messing.
  14. Any female peeing or wetting videos with farting? I would like to see them. ^^
×
×
  • Create New...