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Found 5,616 results

  1. Hello again, Here are a few I've received recently from one of my favorite models. Enjoy! Brittany School Girl Wetting.flv Brittany Jeans Wetting.mp4
  2. One of the businesses that we own is a small convenience store on the outskirts of the town where we live. We ended up owning the store as we used to live just around the corner from it before we moved house and we used the store all the time for food and drink. The owner was a lovely old man who ran the shop but due to age and illness he was having to sell the building and the business and go into retirement and we decided that it would be a good investment and would keep the store in the area for the community to use rather than it become something different. That was 5 years ago and the store is still going strong. The store is located opposite the train station and as its only a small town station there is only two platforms with a few benches on each and nothing else so we get a lot of custom from people using the station as well as the local community. As the store is opposite the train station we do get people sometimes come in looking to see if we have a bathroom as the station doesn’t have any. Most of them come in and look around and when they realise we don’t have one they buy something and leave. Sometimes however they ask us and this has lead to some good desperation sightings. We do have a bathroom and if we could we would make it available to the public but because of where it is located it is staff only. At the back of the store is the door to the stock room where we obviously keep our stock and room is stacked with boxes and pallets and shelves stocked up with all sorts of produce and at the other end of that room is a door leading to a small staff room with a kitchen area, table and a sofa where staff can sit on breaks. Off that staff room is the toilet. The stock room is the reason why the toilet is off limits to the public. The shop floor is public space and if a customer has an accident whilst there we are covered on the insurance. However if we allowed customers into the stockroom and they had an accident there we wouldn’t be covered. Therefore no customers allowed. This is the policy that has lead to seeing a few desperate moments and I thought I would share them with you in this thread. Watch this space for updates if you are interested.
  3. I swear to god this was supposed to be a ripoff of that one Asuna story that had the terrible English that was posted a while back! But stuff happened in the writing process, and I ended up turning it into an entirely different story that had nothing to do with the work that inspired it. The prologue is a little short, but it's full of... action, so to speak. Not of the fetish variety, however - that'll start in chapter one. The general progression of fetish content will be betwetting -> daytime wetting -> diapers -> messing. Also, in case you missed the tag, Kirito is female in this and it's not set in the canon SAO world. The FemKirito is also going to have an original personality, but that'll just make her more interesting since normal Kirito is bland. Finally, and I shouldn't have to mention this on an anime site, but I will just in case: this scene will highlight the pressures of upper class Japanese society. It's gonna seem unfair and drastic by American standards, but trust me, this sort of stuff is relatively normal over there. Anyway, go ahead and read if none of that bothers you. Asuna’s Descent into Diaperhood Prologue: Fallout “Asuna. There’s a man I would like you to meet soon,” Yuuki Shouzou called out to his daughter from across the white clothed dinner table one chilly spring night. Even just from that, the youngest child of the Yuuki family already knew exactly what this would be about. The mere thought of it alone disgusted her to her very core, but she couldn’t make her inner revulsion or the reason for it known. So rather than showing her disdain, the chestnut-eyed girl kept her face perfectly neutral and pretended she was unaware of what he was trying to do. She looked up from her gold-painted porcelain plate of and made eye contact with him. She absently noted that he had yet to change out of his work suit and tie as she asked a simple, “Why?” His brown eyes widened at the question. It was clear that he hadn’t been expecting her to say anything other than an affirmative answer. But if he was doing what she knew he was doing, than she would sooner be disowned than to go along with it. Which, given the circumstances, could be entirely possible if her family found out the reason why she planned to refuse. “You’re already fifteen. You’re becoming a fine young woman,” he told her, his earlier surprise melting into a kind, proud smile. “You’re of the age where you need to start considering your future. It’s time to find you a suitable husband to spend your life with.” And there it is. Asuna had been right on the money. She had to strain herself greatly in order to keep her facial expression from showing her inner emotions, lest they make the truth clear. This “meeting with a man” would be an omiai – a meeting to set her up with a husband she’d never even met before. She didn’t want to get married at all, ever, for any reason. But the idea of getting married to a stranger was even worse! Her older brother sitting next to her at the table had warned her this would be coming soon a few days prior. In fact, he was the one who reassured her that she had the option to refuse. She hadn’t originally thought it would have made a difference, but he’d told her that her father wouldn’t force her if she didn’t want to. Her brother, Kouichirou, knew the reason why she didn’t want to, and so he gave her the strength to face this situation head on and advocate for herself. But that didn’t make it easy. She’d never gone against what her parents had suggested or instructed before this! It was absolutely terrifying… she looked over at her brown-haired older brother for support. He was already looking her way, smiling gently. He nodded his head, silently telling her to go ahead and say what she needed to say. It strengthened her resolve. She turned back to her father, took a deep breath, and uttered the phrase she’d been practicing in her bedroom mirror all weekend. “I have been considering my future, father… and marriage isn’t in it.” His smile quickly gave way as he dropped his jaw in shock. Even Asuna’s mother, whose expression always seemed dull and lifeless, did a double take at what she’d just heard. Her daughter had never even talked back to them, much less rejected any of the things they’d done for her. This was completely unprecedented. And Yuuki Kyouko was not about to let this matter go, not after she personally selected the husband from the finest doctors in the hospital they ran. “Excuse you?” Her daughter looked her dead in the eye, gulped, and then boldly said, “Judging by that reaction, I don’t think you misheard me. I will not get married, mother. Not this or any year.” Kyouko balked. The nerve! To think that her daughter actually had the brazen audacity to talk to her that way! She had heard enough. The female head of the Yuuki household would not tolerate being so blatantly disrespected by her own child! “How dare you? You have no right to say that to us!” she verbally exploded, slamming her hand down on the table and shaking all the tableware. “You are our daughter, and you will do as we say!” Her words and actions caused her chestnut-haired daughter to flinch back and gape in fear. It looked like she wouldn’t be offering any resistance whatsoever. Good, that meant that everything would soon be as it should once again— “Sorry to say this, mother, but it’s actually you who doesn’t have the right to say that to her,” her son retorted in his sister’s place, his steely expression not matching his jovial tone. “You see, there’s this thing in Japan called the age of consent. Ever heard of it? Once you reach a certain age, you are responsible for accepting or declining advances and marriage proposals. You know what that age is? Thirteen. And how old is Asuna? Fifteen. You have no authority here. You can’t force her.” When he said the ages, his voice was laced with pure contempt like Kyouko had never heard from him in his entire life. He’d never addressed anyone with even a trace of disrespect before this as far as she knew. And then when he said the last sentence, he did it in a singsong voice, almost as if he were gloating about it. Both of her children were rebelling at once over the exact same issue. And to compound her misery, as her son had oh so helpfully pointed out, she didn’t have the legal authority to do anything about it. But what she could do… “This house has no place for a daughter who will not respect their parents’ wishes!” she shot back, her voice blazing with rage. “If she won’t do as we have instructed, she will have to find another place to live and another school to go to, because we certainly won’t be paying her tuition!” There, it was done. Now Asuna would have no choice but to back down, and— oh. Oh, no. When Kyouko looked back at her daughter, she no longer saw the face of someone terrified of the consequences of her actions. She saw the face of someone resolved in her convictions. The Yuuki sister spoke in a calm, measured tone, with words that cut like a katana. “I would sooner leave this family than sign away my happiness to someone I don’t love. My heart has no place for a mother who does not respect my wishes, and I will not miss you when I’m gone.” In the span of one conversation, everything fell apart at once. Her words stung, even more so because her own husband had chosen to stay silent – he hadn’t even tried to defend her. She had been disrespected by her own son and utterly rejected by her daughter, and he didn’t so much as scold either of them. It was as if he cared about the children more than he did about her… damn it! “Fine. You have until midnight to pack your belongings and leave. I don’t care where you go, you will not be welcome here anymore.” After saying her piece, Kyouko stood up and made for the exit. As she walked away, her son called out to her. But not to apologize or ask her to reconsider, nothing of the sort. What he decided to say was far less eloquent than that. “Fuck you too, mom! You can forget about me taking over the hospital, you’ve just shown me it’s not worth the effort!” he shouted despite her still being in the room. And to add the ultimate insult to the most painful of injuries, the first thing her husband said, rather than a scolding for her son, was this: “Asuna, I’ll find you a nice place to stay until everyone’s emotions have cooled down. But this divide will take time to heal. I’m sorry that I can’t do more for you.” It took everything the female head of house had not to break down crying as she left the room. It seemed that not a single person in her family was on her side. Gotta say, I'm actually pleased with my execution of this scene. Yeah, I wrote a shitty thing happening, but I liked the writing itself. Aaaaaaanyway, I need to sleep. Please leave a comment telling me what you thought, and I'll catch you later!
  4. Recently me and my girlfriend of a few years are taking a break to deal with our personal issues. Of course this (for me) is frustrating and when I become frustrated i turn to running. running is a sport i have taken part in many times in my life though ive never done any more than a half marathon. yesterday evening i decided to go for a run in hopes to escape my frustrations and be productive, i suited up in my black nulon nike running pants and my sports bra and bright neon pink (adidas) trainers and decided to set my distance to 5 miles. As i ran the first mile i felt a pressing feeling in my stomach- thinking it was just from not running for a while i ignored the uncomfortable feeling that by the second mile had grown into an itching discomfort. I knew at that point that i needed the toilet. sure i probably could have stopped at that point and done a sneaky one in the bushes but i was doing good time and i didnt want to mess up my breathing or pace by stopping, besides the leggings where black and a very thick nylon material so even if i was exposed most people would probably just think i was sweating like a pig in heat. As i continued anwards i flirted with the idea of stopping this time i must admit i was conditioning with myself "every runner pees themselves sometimes, especially during things like marathons" of course (except for the marathon part which may or may not be true) this was a load of bs. So i was faced with two real options 1. Keep running and pee as you run 2. Stop to pee in a bush 3. Try to hold it till you get back home and then do one of the above Naturally i attempted number three and very nearly suceeded. I almost finished the fifth mile and get halfway down the yard before my bladder gave out. It was a strange feeling in the wetsuit like material very warm and also tingly in a strange way. Luckily none of the neighbours were out because even though the black material hid most of the damage im very sure calling a puddle of pee on the ground a puddle of sweat is less than convincing, i was right though i did manage to reduce my frustration.
  5. Hi guys, Casey is back!!! Some people may have read some of my stories from before about a friend of mine I refer to as Casey... Well, here is a new one from just last night less than 24 hours ago! She is my housemate and yesterday in Australia was Mother's Day, so we both caught the train together to see our mums. I stayed at home for a home cooked bbq for my mum as she went out to somewhere fancy with her mum where the drinks were flowing. We decided to meet back at the station afterwards and catch the train home together. When we got to the station there was a minute until our train came! We made a dash for it and got it in the knick of time! We sat down and prepared ourselves for the long hour and ten minute train ride home! She told me as we sat down that she should have peed before she left and she needed to go. She was wearing a purple dress with a black laced covered jacket... She looked fine as hell!! It had been raining most of the day and although now night, the rain was still pouring down! We reached the city, our train goes straight through, so we stayed on... She was fidgeting now and it was obvious... She had a face of concern, I just comforted her. As much as I want to see her have an accident, I don't want to see her publicly embarrassed, im a good guy ok!!! Then news hit as we took off that she didn't want to hear... The train driver came on the speaker and said something along the lines of "this train only runs from to *blah blah* due to scheduled track maintenance. Replacement buses will be running from..."... I told her it will be ok, she can get to the station and use the toilets before we got on the bus. As we pulled into the station, we hopped off the train and walked to where you get the buses. Our bus was already there! I asked the driver how long until we leave and he said he was about to and the next bus wasn't for another hour. **If you don't know what public transport is like on the west coast of Australia on a Sunday, it's shit house! Things run once every hour... And being it was raining and windy, getting home was what was on both our minds** Casey said she could hold another 20 minutes so we got into the bus. I comforted her again and said she could use the toilet when we get off the bus at the station before our last bus home. She nodded and I gave her my iPod to share to distract her from the feeling she had. She grabbed herself maybe once or twice on the bus trip, she seemed distracted enough from the music, so my idea worked!! We hopped off the bus and to her trauma, the station was closed!! As no trains were running, the station was shut down! That meant no toilets for Casey. It was an hour and twenty minutes walk home... So off we went in the pouring rain and wind for our stretch home. I gave her my black hooded jumper to keep her warm, doing all I can to help. She kept telling me the rain and the wind was making it hard for her to hold. I jokingly said "just pee yourself"... She smiled back at me teasing me saying that I would love that... I couldn't disagree with her!! Another ten minutes later she just stopped on the footpath and stood still. She grabbed my hand, smiled at me and walked me off the main road. She lifted her purple dress slightly to reveal her red satin seamless panties and just started going!! It was pretty hot... Rain was pouring, we were soaked and she was there revealing her panties as she stood there wetting them in the middle of the street! She went for about two minutes solid with a pretty strong stream! She seemed happier once she was done, smiling at me and almost skipping up the road! She knew it turns me on... She just said she was too cold and needed to warm up her legs... I played along with it! 40 minutes into our walk she told me she needed to shit... We are both not really into messing... So I didn't see it as a thing to get turned on about. I think she was hinting at something... But I didn't read into it much. An hour into our walk and I was cold... And I mean cold! It hasn't stopped raining the whole time and I had given my jumper to Casey to stay warm... All I was in was a t shirt and light grey skinny jeans. I had a full bladder, but I wasn't desperate to go and it was comfy walking... But I wanted to warm up... So I decided I was going to do what Casey did... I got her attention and stopped on the side of the road and just let it fly... I started peeing my jeans. Although they were already wet, you could see the patch get bigger. Her eyes lit up, shocked at what I was doing. She grabbed a hold of my cock through my jeans as I started to soak them. She just let the piss fill through her hands as she slowly played with member. Although it was only about a minute, for me that's not long, it felt relieving to have some warmth on my body somewhere... Even if I was soaked in piss. We talked about what had happened for the remainder of the walk, she brought up a couple more times she needed the toilet... I just told her we would be home soon. When we got in we took all our clothes off (except Casey kept her wet panties and her bra on) and threw them in the laundry sink. I offered her the shower first... Being the gentleman that I am. She got the water to hot and dragged me in... That's where I shall leave the story!! Yes, there is a bit more but I am not sure if people would want to hear that! Im pretty damn lucky to have a housemate like Casey... She is one damn fine girl!! I hope you all enjoyed this and I still have some stories up my sleeve!!! **PLEASE NOTE!! All my stories I post are not made up! I would like to think I don't have that much of an imagination when it comes to writing stories... so I am not really into writing them. However, when it comes to telling stories from personal experience, that's what I prefer to do... Share with the world situations that I have been luckily enough to be in**
  6. Check out what Kotex is marketing in Singapore. Don't get too excited though, they're 100% for menstruation only. They're just real absorbent *winks coyly while holding a glass of water for no reason*
  7. I saw this video on here a while ago. It featured a guy with one of those cheap water guns without water in it. He'd point it at different girls, pull the trigger, and they'd become really desperate and pee themselves. Does anyone know where I can find it?
  8. Not really interesting until the wetting, just a girl drinking and listening to music. The wetting, however, is incredible. Just skip to 8:00 minutes in. https://m.vk.com/video-93366229_456239121
  9. Version 21.37

    269 downloads

    My first file downloaded with ffmpeg. Actually not exactly, as one done with ffmpeg still sits deep in virtual machine and suffers from lack of "use desktop mode" button on this site (or at least upload ability from mobile version). So after all this messing with Ubuntu I realized that it can be long-clicked from phone (and probably also mobile user agent on desktop). About the video - it's a sample of an official sequel of DLSL-036. And it's much much better than original. Althrough I feel like this toilet is soon going to be as popular as That Pool :P

    Free

  10. Here are some pantyhose (mostly) wetting videos from one of my favorite profiles from jacquieetmichel.net. Hope you like them. https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/41234/mes-collants-noirs-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/41148/ma-pisseuse-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/589/les-collants-gris-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/1079/menage-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/868/plug-anal-et-collants-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/834/pour-les-fans-de-leo-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/574/mes-collants-blancs-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/550/madame-pisseuse-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/510/bas-et-collants-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/490/un-brun-de-bricolage-en-bas-nylon-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/476/pour-les-fans-de-collants-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/472/mes-collants-mauves-de-leo_mariana.html https://www.jacquieetmichel.net/video/468/ma-culotte-est-humide-de-leo_mariana.html P.S. The videos contains nudity.
  11. Whilst i'm scrolling through my tumblr i come across some little short vids that people have posted which I love so i thought i would share them here. I will update this thread when i find new ones instead of making new topics. #1 - Short vid of a girl peeing in her panties and on the bed. PantyPee.mp4 #2 Wetting white panties in the bath whitepanty.mp4
  12. (Well, this is just a random story I wrote. Been playing one of my OCs again and wanted to write something about them. Would do something a bit more plot and character related but…council. Art for reference: https://www.dropbox.com/s/10d4een7p5zzp35/The%20Red%20Knight.jpg?dl=0) The Red Knight(Whom I will often be calling Red for simplicity.) was nervous. This was her first attempt at leading herself. She and Robin were pupils to the master tactician Travis, part of his four person squad that served the Omega and his goals. Normally he lead lead the squad on missions, his powerful control of the battlefield keeping them all alive. But as one of his two tacticians in training, she had to learn to do it as well. At least she couldn’t do worse than Robin, she figured. The man had destroyed his foes, but his leadership left a bit to be desired. He almost seemed to delight in throwing his units in situations they barely escaped, leaving the unit with six heavily injured soldiers, two lightly injured, and only two healthy. Robin had done most of the work himself, his physical protection rather than guidance keeping the soldiers from outright dying. She promised herself she would do better. Today it was just her and the ten women that formed the mercenary group they were currently working with. Tyra, the elder blue dragon who opposed Tiamat for control of the chromatics, was off battling the mother of dragons. Her adopted daughter, Jill, originally Tiamat’s daughter and a massive red dragon who had taken the Red Knight’s master as her mate, was with her. She couldn’t help but feel jealous when she thought of the red. She had vied for her master’s attention before, but he did not seem interested in placing it on a student. Every time Jill kissed him, or greeted him with one of her powerful hugs, she burned with jealousy. All she got was friendly greetings and the usual advice. Pushing her absent companions out of her mind for now, she turned to face her squad. They were lined up, geared up and ready to go. Scanning down the line of mercenaries, Red nodded in approval. “Alright ladies, here’s the plan. Our job is to destroy the shadow sources so the Omega can hold the zone. We’ve done this before, should be a routine job. I’ll be leading this time. I may not do as well as Travis, but I’ll do a better job than Robin did.” At that several of the women grinned. “We’re ready when you are commander.” One of the mercs, Carissa, said. She was one of the more experienced woman, and wore heavy scale armor with a pair of battleaxes at her sides and long, light brown hair down to her shoulders. The Red Knight nodded and concentrated. Her mind washed over the team, and she could feel all of their emotions, all of their conditions. She was the battlefield. The team turned and vanished in one concerted teleport, appearing on a field of semisolid shadow. Three glowing nexus’s floated above the ground around the area, and a variety of shadow creatures already stalked the ground. “Go!” she shouted into everyone’s minds, and they were off. Red felt her chess pieces flood onto the battlefield, spectral images of herself in different uniforms standing guard over her teammates and flitting about the battlefield, shadows of glowing red energy. First, she took stock of all her troops. Carissa was at the vanguard, both axes drawn as she leaped upon a shadowy humanoid. Her axes tore into its essence with ease, the magical weapon tearing shadow like flesh. Right behind her was Diana, an exceptionally tall and supremely arrogant blonde. She wore heavy plate armor, but it barely seemed to slow her. “Try to keep up!” she shouted as she dodged past Carissa, bringing her greatsword to bear against the flank of a massive shadowy worm, a powerful blow driving into its flank. She could feel the warrior was…nervous!? and almost laughed aloud. Now that she was keeping everyone’s statuses, she could see Diana’s true colors. The warrior had already shit herself a bit as she waited for the battle to start, nervous about going into combat again after her serious injury under Robin. Stifling her laughter, she ignored the small lump in the blonde’s pants only she could sense and moved to the next merc. Alesha was next to engage. She held a broadsword tightly in both hands, studded leather armor showing off her curves while giving a bit of protection to complement her mobility, long red hair flaring out behind her as she moved. She danced between the legs of a Titanic shadow, blade cutting out again and again. Once again, the enchanted equipment had a noticeable effect, gashes tearing in the flesh of the shadows legs. It seems her attempts to hamstring it simply wounded it more, however. Anna spun forward after her, her glistening black crystal plate armor radiating fear, her brilliant red hair trialing out the bottom of her helm . It did little good against the shadows, however, and luckily didn’t affect her allies, so she simply resorted to bringing her massive hammer spinning around into the side of the nightmare worm’s maw, joining Diana in attempting to slay the beast. A trio of women were next. Cyan, Cyril, and Cyrene. They all had matching short black hair, and each wore matching chainmail armor, the links glistening mithral. The shortest of them wielded two daggers, one glistening with fire and the other with cold. The middle sister wielded two scimitars, both hissing with acid. The last had a pair of green, glowing arms sprouting from her side, the psionic limbs supporting a pair of dual wielded greatswords that crackled with lightning and thunder, respectively. They moved in unison, the Cyrene, who stood almost as tall as Diana, let the Cyril take her shoulders. Cyan leaped onto hers in turn, and together they launched the smallest sister into the air, sending her crashing into a massive flying shadow. Her daggers dug deep, and she pulled, the best careening towards the ground into the other two’s reach, and they fell upon it. Luna, an archer, stayed back beside the red knight, her white hair long down her back and her body protected by pure black leather armor, enchanted with stealth. It didn’t matter against the shadows, however, and she simply raised her bow and sent a shower of sparkling arrows flying towards another flying shadow, the trail a bright light in the darkness of the realm. A pair of blue haired mages brought up the rear. Both wore their dark blue hair long down their back, dressed in matching red robes and carrying matching black staves. Only their eye colors differentiated, Mina’s eyes a bright green while Mila’s were a light brown. They unleashed waves of magic over the mercenaries, hastening their movements before opening up with spells of light and fire, the shadowy enemies immune to the more effective methods of magical disablement, paralysis and mind control. She could also feel Mila was desperately full and almost groaned. The mage should have gone beforehand if she was so desperate. With everyone’s status accounted for, the whole train of thought taking only a moment, Red moved to engage. Energy flared to life around her, and her whole body glowed with red energy, her sword shifting from metal to pure energy in an instant. She advanced down the middle of the enemies, past her troops, and engaged another titanic shadow. Leaping into the air, powered by a flow of air, she struck its arm and cut clean through, severing the limb. She felt herself stabilize in the air, and rolled in midair, avoiding its other swinging arm. Pushing off of the air she lashed out with psionic power, a shadowy flyer coming at her falling to the ground in pain as she blasted it with a combination of psionic energy and magical fire. Feeling the rush of both magic and psionics flowing full force through her veins, she casually raised her sword and caught the nightmare’s returning arm on it, severing it off and leaving the creature armless. Spurring forward in a burst of psychic emery, she drove her blade through its face, the massive monster dissolving into shadowy essence. With her free hand she raised a shield of arcane energy, catching the powerful cone of icy death launched her way and absorbing it into more energy. Emboldened, she leaped for a worm, but it dived into the ground. Turning, she raised her sword high, and brought it down with a brilliant flash of power, red energy engulfing one of the shadowy nexus’s and obliterating it. Her attention was tugged away for a moment, however, and she realized the perils of maintaining a collective with a group of warrior women. Diana hacked away at the worm in front of her, Anna working on its opposite side and forcing it to keep turning in an attempt to catch ones of them. She was unprepared for the hand that reached down and grasped her. One of the giant shadows had flickered from its position across the shadowy field and appeared beside her. She felt her strength start to drain as its ghostly hand scooped her up in its giant grip, and she let out a scream of fear. Her body went limp and her bladder trembled uncontrollably, leak after leak of pee soaking into her undergarments. Dropping her greatsword, he quickly lost complete control, streams of urine soaking her legs and armor and falling from her, yellow streams cascading down from the giant’s grip. Red’s piece was there, however, and it phased through the giant’s hand, pulling her free and dropping her swiftly and safely to the ground. The giant tried to attack, but roared in pain as a prismatic beam slammed into its side, knocking it backward in a dazzle of rainbow energy. Her bowels were trembling but under control, though she barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief and get her fingers around the hilt of her fallen sword before she looked up and yet out another girly, fearful shriek. The maw of the giant worm she and Anna had been fighting was bearing down on her. It looked badly injured but it was still going to eat her. She let out a mewling whimper more appropriate to a scared little girl than to her massive frame and desperately threw her hands in the way as fear coursed through her. A lout pbblltt sounded as she violently shit herself, dark mush flooding into her underwear and then into her armor as her body forcefully expelled its waste. The smell and sound were both awful and unmistakable. Then end never came, however. Anna lunged forward, massive hammer cracking into the side of the worm’s head and sending it flying to the side, collapsing into a pile of shadowy essence and spiraling away. She turned to Diana, a slightly amused but sympathetic grin on her face, and held out a hand to help her up. Diana sniffled, wiping back the start of tears, and took her hand, letting Anna pull her to her feet. The black armored redhead patted the blonde’s back, and Diana composed herself to head back into the fray. The Red Knight could feel the fear flowing through Diana, the release of her control. It was all she could to do keep control herself, groaning as she doubled over and pushed a small lump of poo into her formerly pristine red panties. Steeling herself, she fought off the rest of the mental assault and lowered her connection to the others a bit. Preparing herself for further attacks, she stood up again, wincing as the lump of poo moved around in her panties. She turned towards the second nexus and sprinted for it, but a shadowy spider the size of an elder dragon rose up in her way, and she skidded to a halt. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a trickle of pee flow down her leg, this time not from someone else’s leak. Cursing under her breath, she watched as it raised its massive leg and took a swipe at her. She leaped forward, dodging the limbs blow and attaching herself to its side, running up the massive limb. When she neared the top, however, it brought another limb swinging up, and the spider’s blow hit her head on. The red energy around her flickered, her powerful barrier absorbing the blow. It faltered, but held fast, and the spider’s leg was deflected away with a screech of pain. The blow rocked her, however, and she could feel a distinct dampness in her panties telling her she had leaked more. Angrily raising her sword, she went straight for its head. Her pieces were still defending the squad, but her lapse in control spread like a wildfire. It was a result of the connection that they hadn’t expected, with both Travis and Robin being male and immune to the overactive bodily functions women suffered in battle. Mila suffered the effects of Red’s leak first, doubling over with a grunt as she pushed a log into her panties. Her desperation was too much to contain with the sudden urge to release. “Mila look out!” Mina shouted as a massive shadowy bird dived towards her sister. Mina tackled Mila to the ground, clearing her from the bird’s path, but its shadowy claws snatched her up. Her bladder was already eager for release and a golden cascade fell down on her sister as Mina was scooped up. Mila felt herself get thrown down and let out a pained sound, groaning as she pushed another log into her panties, involuntarily forcing more out with the impact. She was peeing now as well, desperate to get everything out. Her red robe was horribly stained, but she was shaken from her stupor when Mina’s pee soaked the upper portions of her dress. Concentrating, she forcibly pushed a third log into her panties, then looked up and cast a powerful spell, the shadowy bird turning to pure ice. Seeing that Mina was free, she bore down again, trying to finish wetting and messing her dress as quickly as possible. Everything pooled beneath her where she sat, and she realized this would be a bit too much of a mess for prestidigitation. Mina landed on her feet beside Mila with grace, her feather fall spell gently setting her on the ground. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at her sister’s accident. “I told you you should have gone beforehand.” She scolded. From across the battlefield she heard a massive roar, and turned bright red as she let out a fearful whimper and a blast of hot, liquid mess. The back of her dress darkened, and with the roar, Red’s influence, and the sound of her sister messing herself beside her, she couldn’t hold it back. Another wave of hot muck sprayed out, overwhelming her panties and dress completely and dripping down her legs. She held a horrified expression as a noisy fart escaped her, and then another, longer burst of diarrhea exploded down her legs, liquid poo puddling beneath her as she continued to helplessly shit herself. Luna ran, turning and firing a desperate arrow occasionally. With the others occupying the larger creatures, she found herself being swarmed by every single one of the tiny humanoids. Red’s chess pieces had intercepted many blows, but she had taken several, and she was getting tired. It seemed there was no end to these things. Suddenly, the swarm vanished. She paused, confused. Suddenly she heard a sound and turned. The whole swarm was behind her, using the same blinking some of the others had used. They were on her in an instant. She desperately removed her bowstring, slamming a few creatures back with her bow like a quarterstaff, but soon she was overwhelmed. She felt her essence start to drain into the shadow and panic completely overtook her body. She looked up into the eerily grinning face of a shadow and helplessly lost all control. Pee soaked her black leather armor, not very noticeable but leaving every inch of her bottom soaked. The back bulged out as a large lump of poo forced its way into her tight armor, then more and more forced its way out, spreading along the back of her tight armor like a pancake. Her bottom and legs were soon coated with pee and poo as she felt all light fading, the shadows taking her. Just as her consciousness faded, she saw a bright light pierce the shadows around her. Travis approached the fallen archer, smoking staff still in hand. There was no trace of the pure energy blast that had utterly annihilated the attacking shadows, but he still radiated an aura of power. Slinging the staff over his shoulder, he picked up the unconscious archer. “Just because I am not leading this fight does not mean I will allow anyone to be lost.” He said quietly, and vanished with a flicker of energy, taking the badly injured woman back to their base. The triplets were fighting the remaining big monsters, the other four split off to head for the last gate. The three of them worked in perfect concert, elemental weapons cutting down giants, birds, and worms alike. They seemed untouchable, any hit that broke through tier formation being absorbed by a one of Red’s pieces, their leader still watching out for them. They struck down the last monster with satisfaction, the three of them hugging one another as the last normal monster fades. Diana, Anna, Alesha, and Carissa joined together, cutting down one last worm from their path and heading for the last nexus. The last of the monsters fell behind them, and the Red Knight would end hers soon. As they neared, however, space rippled in front of them. A massive, six winged dragon, its head full of glowing red eyes and its mouth full of massive red fangs, tore its way into the demiplane. An aura of fear radiated off of it, and it let out a massive roar. Its arms moved in casting, and it lashed out at the triplets with a spell, then turned to face the terrified women before it. Diana had enough when the fear aura hit her. Pee she didn’t even know she still had sprayed down her legs at the sight of the dragon, and a fresh burst of waste pushed its way into her armor, spreading the mess even further down her legs and ass. Her legs trembled and she teared up, and when the dragon roared she fainted dead away, bladder, bowels, and bravery exhausted. Carissa faired a bit better, letting out a quiet whimper of fear and clamping down on her muscles as hard as she could, preventing a solid release. Her bladder, on the other hand, couldn’t be stopped, and her tight armored pants echoed with a hiss as she forcefully and fearfully emptied her bladder into them. She stood frozen with fear as she peed herself like a frightened child, whimpering. As the stream died down, the veteran fighter collected herself and advanced towards the massive dragon. Alesha clamped down on her bladder, forgetting about her bowels, the opposite of Carissa. She let out a pained, involuntary groan as the first soft mass pushed its way into her panties, quickly followed by a wave of brown sludge, then another mass and another. She trembled as Carissa did, shitting herself in terror. She was at least spared the childish whimpering thanks to her pained groans. When the dragon roared, her hold on her bladder faltered, and piss sprayed down her legs, studded leather darkening. She looked up, meeting the dragons eyes, and fell to her knees, helpless in the face of its fearsome gaze. Her bladder was going full force now, along with her bowels, and the stench was terrible as she emptied herself into her armor, entirely humiliated and helpless, unable to continue the fight. Anna fared better than her comrades, at least. Her armor reduced the impact of fear on her along with its other effects, and she leaked for a moment, the front of her panties dampening and the back of them browning slightly, but she held it together. Hammer in hand, she shook her head to clear it, then followed Carissa towards the dragon, hoping her other two companions would be okay. It swooped down to meet them, its shadowy form dwarfing them a hundredfold. It released a massive cone of blue fire, but a pair of Red’s pieces stepped in the way, the ones dressed as bishops, and they dispersed the fire to either side, leaving the pair unharmed. Anna could swear she heard a “Tsk” from the dragon. It descended, and its claws reached out, grabbing at the pair. Carissa activated her ring, and teleported out of the way. Anna tried to dodge, but there was no way she could. The claw was just too big. The dragon scooped her up, and seeing Carissa reappear, sent his massive tail spiraling towards her. She looked up too late, and it hit her full on in the stomach, and the rest of her really. The loudest fart yet was heard from the veteran merc as her mess was quite violently forced out of her. One instant her pants were clean, in another they were sagging heavy with foul mess. A full load, enough to make her armored pants sage with a bulge the size of a baseball or two, was pushed out in an instant. Forced by the impact and lubricated by fear, she humiliated herself in less than a second. She went flying across the battlefield, landing in an unconscious heap. Anna looked up at the dragon in horror as it drew her closer to its maw. She felt her muscles trembling, fear slowly gaining ground. As it opened its jaw her bladder opened involuntarily, and the inside of her pristine armor soaked through, the crystals lack of joints causing the pee from her impressive bladder to pool at the bottom of her feet and climb up her legs as she filled the inside of her tight armor with warm, liquid fear. As she entered the darkness of its maw, she felt the edge of a sharp tooth brush her and closed her eyes. Her stomach rumbled, and despite her best efforts, the shadowy, deadly feel of its tooth was enough. She pushed a wave of soft mess into her underwear, then another. More and more soft, firm mess filled her panties, spreading out and coating the inside of her armor in poop. She shook with fear until she finished messing herself, then wondered why she wasn’t dead. Opening her eyes, she saw herself outside the dragon’s mouth, and it was grinning at her. It gently set her down on the ground, and she fell onto her butt in a daze with a splat, only making the mess worse. What was going on? The three twins had just enough time to celebrate their victory before they were thrown into their own illusionary horrors. Cyan found herself in a pit of snakes. The effect was almost immediate. The youngest sister who had a crippling fear of snakes curled up into a ball and sobbed. She didn’t even try to stop herself as she peed full force into her chainmail skirt, soaking her panties and the cloth that guarded her legs from the mail, the puddle spreading over her and soaking her entirely as she hid in a ball of her own piss. Her bowels luckily didn’t hold much, and she quickly pushed a large stool into her underwear, but it was able to contain everything. Cyril found herself looking at a pair of skeletons she quickly recognized as her sisters. Tears stung her eyes and she rushed over to them. “Nonononono! I can’t be!” she whispered tearfully. When she reached them, she knelt down, and let out the loudest shriek of fear yet. The skeletons eye sockets were filled with spiders, her worst fear. Falling back on her bottom, she desperately scrabbled away, leaving a trial of pee behind as her bladder released into her panties and clothes. She managed to make it to the corner of the room, a large trial of pee showing her path across the room. She realized her butt was completely smeared with poop, having involuntarily released everything the instant she saw the spiders. Her capacity wasn’t much greater than Cyan’s but she had dragged it everywhere. Her armor would take hours to clean and her clothes were likely unsalvageable. But at least she was away from the spiders. Cyrene found herself facing her worst fear as well. She found herself in the water. She desperately tried to swim upwards, but her armor was too heavy. She tore at it desperately, but it would not come off. Her oxygen drained quickly with her panic, and soon she was choking, trying to scream as horror completely overtook her. She lost all consciousness as her bladder and bowels emptied at the same time, the water around her yelling and her soaked clothes staining. The back of her armor bulged out immensely, her garments unable to hold her considerable mess back, the clothes and panties horribly stained brown as soft mess drippled down the back of her legs. Back in the real world, the triplets were position as in their illusions, Cyan curled up in a ball, Cyril sat on her messy bottom, and Cylene laying on her back. Eventually, the illusion faded, and the younger two sisters woke to their unconscious and extremely messy older sister. They moved over to her, and with combined effort, lifted her. The Red Knight fought the giant spider as she felt her soldiers crumbling around her. Cursing silently in her head as her attention was drawn to a hundred different places defending them, she cut deep into the spider. The sudden release of so many shook her a moment later however, and she feel, clutching the bottom of her skirt in desperation and also to prevent it from flaring up. Another, slightly larger lump was forced into her panties, and she no longer had any concentration left. She wished she could yell at him, wished she could kill this thing and end it… The other nexus exploded behind her, and she resigned herself to focusing her attention on holding it and freeing the illusioned women. The now larger bulge in her panties was uncomfortable but she could handle it. Her spell carried her gently to the ground, and she banished the illusion on the triplets. She turned upwards, wincing as the spider advanced on her overworked form and raised a leg to crush her. A few streams of pee trailed down her legs, but she knew her ward would protect her. A moment later, however, the massive dragon crashed into the spider, sending it crashing to the ground like a collapsing titan and tearing into it with furious teeth, claws and wing buffets. At least he was helping now. Gathering herself, Red made her way to the last nexus, raising her sword and unleashing another pulse of red, pure energy. Corona, her sword, struck again, and the nexus shattered. The shadowy nature of the plane faded, returning to the harmless demiplane it had once been. Sheathing her sword, she let out a sigh of relief. “At least I made it through relatively clean.” She said aloud to herself. She was still shaky from everyone else’s release, but she had made it. “Boo!” she heard from behind her, and let out a loud squeak. Her weakened bladder gave out and a waterfall of yellow streamed down between her legs, soaking her red panties thoroughly and puddling beneath her, thankfully leaving her skit and legs untouched. Her bowels forced another lump into her panties, then another, and soon the bulge forced them out to their full extent, not quite enough to peak down below her skirt but sizable. Striking out behind her, she spun and punched the giant of a man standing behind her, grinning. Her fist, even charged with energy, didn’t seem to do much, but he winced, a rare sign of pain from the giant of a man. Somewhat satisfied, she growled at him. “What the hell was that about, Robin!? I had this under control, we had it won! And then you had to go and take out the rest of my soldiers!? Are you just jealous I was doing better than you!?” Robin couldn’t contain a chuckle, putting his hand on the average sized woman’s head and easy task for the seven foot tall half giant. “Perhaps. Perhaps the master just wanted me to amuse him.” Red blushed hotly, but she knew Robin was teasing her. He knew of her affection, and its lack of return. She didn’t need his teasing right now. Shaking her head, she retorted. “Maybe you just wanted a show. It doesn’t matter I suppose, as long as master realizes how well we would have done without your intrusion.” They both knew he didn’t interfere for his own desires. He was willing to amuse others tastes but he wouldn’t go out of his way for it. But it was the only defense she had. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go gather up the army that you threw all over the battlefield.” She added with a huff. Turning, she let out an eep as she felt Robin;s hands grab her legs and back and scoop her up. “Travis is taking care of that.” He told her. “I’m to take you back.” “Let go of me you big oaf!” she shouted in indignation, punching uselessly at his shoulder. He turned away from the scene and she slumped against his shoulder, basking in the warmth of his body as they left the cold, shadowy plane. “You did a wonderful job.” Travis told her, smiling. She had just returned from the plane with Robin, slipping out of his grip and going to meet Travis while the others cleaned up. She shifted uncomfortably in her messy panties, though she knew there was no trace of her accident visible. The energy around her kept the smell from escaping. She liked to keep her accidents secret, especially when they were intentional or prolonged. “You defended the squad in an exemplary manner, and still fought well yourself. You did, however, fail to keep Luna well-guarded. Dedicate someone to that next time, had I not interfered you would have lost her.” His voice was the same monotone no matter which part he was delivering, which was a bit creepy. “You did much better than Robin, at least. If not for his interference that would have gone off well. Congratulations, Red Knight. You have earned the right to lead your own squad.” Red beamed with pride. For once, she was flooded with happiness. This was her goal. She was affirmed as good enough, as strong enough, to be a commander in the Omega Watch. It was an exhilarating feeling. It was missing one thing, however. She wished he would reach over, grope her bottom through her skirt like he always did with Jill. Anything. But there was nothing but a sense of pride over her accomplishment, pride of her growth. Nothing more emotional than that. And while she was happy, excited, she was also forlorn. “Thank you, commander.” She managed, keeping her voice as formal as possible. Bowing her head in farewell, she left the room. Robin was waiting outside the door, joining her in her walk the instant she exited. “Jealous?” she asked. “Hardly.” Robin replied, rolling his eyes. “You were always better at leading. An exemplary performance indeed. Just one little flaw.” His hand reached under her skirt, groping her messy ass. “Pervert! Jerk!” she shouted, shoving him away and protectively covering her butt. He laughed once again, raising his hands defensively. “I was just pointing it out. None of your squad noticed.” Putting his arm around, her started leading her towards her quarters as she pouted. “I…think I understand how you feel. Sorry about that. Are you going to be alright?” She was silent for a moment. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?” Robin was aware of her longing, the only one here who was. He had comforted her when there was no one else, and while neither of them thought there was more than close friendship between them, she needed something to distract her. And often, he needed something to distract him. He had his own issues. “Just…maybe come with me, alright?” He nodded and pulled her close, petting her hair as the pair entered her quarters. He didn’t know if she meant as someone to cry on or for something more intimate, but he would support her regardless. Sometimes he wondered if his master knew, or cared. Of course he knew, and of course he cared. So what game was he playing? (If anyone is up for rping in this setting by the way I’d be up for it. PM, I have some ideas if you don’t. And of course, comments and criticism. My proofreading is lazy and my writing is shaky so I need all the help/support I can get. And I swear the other two parts of Kagero story are coming.)
  13. [[Authors Note: Hello. Well, I’ve been seeing a lot of these interactive stories and participating in some of them, so I’ve decided to give it a try myself. I’ll see if there is any interest after my first post and, maybe if a few people seem to enjoy it, I’ll continue it. This story will mix combat and character based conversations, with the typical Omo.com twist of adding bladder meters to your party members. When in combat, one’s bladder (and perhaps something else if interest is shown in it) may give out, causing them to wet themselves in battle. The bladder meter will be active at all times, for both genders of character. In addition, with few exceptions, most characters can be romantically/sexually paired up. This story will be based on the Fire Emblem series of games, with original characters. Character classes and appearances will be based on Fire Emblem series, specifically FE: Awakening and FE: Fates. In addition, stats will be loosely based on games. The Strength stat concerns all physical based attacks. Magic concerns all magical attacks. Defense concerns one’s ability to absorb physical damage. Resistance concerns one’s ability to absorb magic attacks. To make combat more simple, the speed and skill stats will not be used. The Luck stat, however, will be used, and will dictate critical attacks and one’s ability to catch themselves if they are about to wet themselves in battles. All party members will have an unique stat, which will be unexplained, but may help them depending on certain situations. Health will not be visible for the fight and will rather be displayed as a status condition. In addition, combat will be considered ‘casual’ by Fire Emblem standards, as party members do not die in combat and are instead knocked out. With this being said, if interest is shown, we may begin]] Three figures sit around a small fire in a clearing in a forest. The sounds of the forest ring out around them. An owl howling in the distance. The wind blowing against the trees. The fire roaring softly. Our protagonist looks up at their two companions and sighs, tired from a long day with a clear twinge in their bladder. [Pick a Protagonist, a supporter, and a mentor from the list below. Each potential character will be marked as either a protagonist, supporter, combination of the two, or a mentor.} Morrigan (Protagonist/Supporter) [the student of magic] Age: 18 Physical Description: A young looking girl with purple hair in curls. Shorter than average height, Five foot two. Covers herself with the basic blue robes of a student of magic. With pale skin and a slim build, she has equally slim breasts and a small bladder. Very modest about where she relieves herself. Background: Naturally gifted in magic and naturally able to use dark magic, Morrigan was unaware of her powers until her 13th birthday, when her normal life with her parents in a small town changed forever when she fell into a mirror. After five years that she barely recalls, her powers have became stable and powerful as she awoke in a forest. If chosen as protagonist, the Coming Home quest will be activated. Class/Starting Stats: Mage, Level 10 Strength: 0 Magic: 7+2(Magic +2) Defense: 2 Resistance: 5 Luck: 5 Cuteness: 10 Skills: Shadowfaire: Allows this unit to use dark tomes, even if not a dark mage. Magic 2+: Gains a natural +2 to magic stat. Starting equipment: Flux: Dark Magic, 60% Accuracy, 5 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Wind: Wind magic, 90% Accuracy, 1 base damage, 0% natural crit chance Ace (Protagonist/Supporter) [the sharpshooter] Age: 18 Physical Description: A young man with short, brown hair. Five foot five in height, tan skin, and an athletic build. Wears the light chainmail coat with his family crest, a gold bow with a white arrow, on his arms. He has a medium sized bladder, reserved about where he relieves himself. Background: Ace was the son of a noble family who were known for the great archers who belonged to the line. As such, Ace was trained in archery from a young age. After joining the military, Ace and his squad were sent on a mission deep into enemy territory. Ace and his squad were separated, with the rest of his squad presumed dead. If selected as protagonist, the starting mission “Mission Report” will be activated. Class/Starting stats: Archer: Level 10 Strength: 6 Magic: 1 Defense: 4 Resistance: 4 Luck:4 Focus: 10 Skills: Headshot: 30% additional chance to crit +20 Hit: Additional +20% to hit Starting Equipment: Iron Bow: A common bow: 70% Accuracy, 4 base damage, 0% natural crit chance. Vera (Protagonist)[the vengeful one] Age: 20 Physical description: A woman with half her face scarred, her long hair dyed a dark shade of pink covers the scarred half of her face. Her skin is deeply tanned, her build athletic, and her breasts firm B cups, she wears a white tank top and long black pants, which she doesn’t mind emptying her bladder into. She has a medium sized bladder, but isn’t reserved about where she empties it. Background: Vera was once a high school student in a foreign land, but after an encounter with a devious magic user, she ‘died’. However, she woke up in a forest, in an age which to her seemed distant, less advanced than what she was used to. If chosen as protagonist, the starting quest Revenga will be activated. Cannot be chosen as a supporter, as Vera follows no one. Class/Starting Stats: Samurai:: Level 10 Strength: 7 Magic: 0 Defense: 5 Resistance: 2 Luck: 3 Angst: 10 Skills: Bloodlust: Boosts all stats temporarily by 1 after successfully felling an enemy. Vantage: 20% increased chance to dodge attacks of any type. Starting Equipment: Iron Katana: A standard katana: 80% accuracy, 4 base damage, 15% natural crit chance. Rose (Protagonist/Supporter)[the loyal friend] Age: 21 Physical appearance: a young woman with long flaming red hair. With tan skin and B cup breasts covered by her suit of leather armor. She has a large bladder, but is somewhat reserved on where she releases it. Background: Vera’s best friend, after discovering that her friend was actually alive somewhere, she hunted down an associate of the man responsible and forced him to send Rose after Vera. Donning a set of plain leather armor and a straight sword to fit to her new surroundings, selecting Rose as a protagonist will activate the starting quest Vera. In addition, if she supports Vera, she will gain a different unique stat. Class/Starting Stats: Mercenary: Level 10 Strength: 8 Magic: 0 Defense: 3 Resistance 3 Luck: 3 Determination: 10 (If not supporting Vera) Persuasion: 10 (If supporting Vera) Skills: Duelist: Deals increased damage when facing a single opponent Patience: 10% increased chance to dodge and hit when enemy attacks first Starting equipment: Iron Straight Sword: A standard straight sword: 85% Accuracy, 3 base damage, 5% natural crit chance. Iron shield: A common shield used throughout the land. Kara (Supporter)[the allied knight] Age: 22 Physical description: A tall ‘women’, six feet tall, with brunette hair that reaches her shoulders. Wrapped in light plate mail that covers her dark skin. She has a large bladder and is willing to empty it anywhere, but only in front of people she trusts with her secret. Background: Kara once trained as a knight and in the way of using a lance. Though, after complications arose when trying to join the military, she joined a mercenary group. After her group was annihilated in battle, she disappeared into the woods until she found the protagonist. Has always been a follower, and therefore cannot be the protagonist. Class/Starting Stats: Knight: Level 10 Strength: 8 Magic: 0 Defense: 7+2 (Defense +2) Resistance: 1 Luck: 2 Defense: 10 Skills: Sworn Shield: 25% chance to defend the protagonist from attacks when nearby. Defense +2: Additional 2 points in Defense) Starting equipment: Spear: A lance that can be easily thrown: 70% accuracy, 3 base damage, 5% natural crit chance. Steel shield: A well made shield meant for a knight: Evans (Protagonist/Supporter)[the rogue ninja] Age: 22 Physical description: A blond haired man of average height and athletic build, clad in plain green robes. Usually keeps to himself when it comes to his private needs, unless he’s drank alcohol recently, a common event, in which case he’s usually open with it. Background: A self-taught ninja, who learned the art from a series of scrolls rather than formal teaching, His main purpose from this was to sell his skill to the highest bidder, though eventually learned of his true calling. Choosing him as the protagonist activates the starting quest Revolution. Class/starting stats: Ninja: Level 10 Strength: 4 Magic: 0 Defense: 3 Resistance: 5 Luck: 7 Cunning: 10 Skills: Acrobat: Has a 40% chance to dodge all attacks. Vanishing Act: Can disappear from enemies for a short time using smoke bombs. Starting equipment: Kunai Knives (x2): A ninja’s knife, good for close and ranged combat: 90% accuracy, 3 base damage, 40% natural crit chance Smoke bombs (x5): A small package which causes an explosion of smoke when thrown to the ground. Sif (Protagonist/Supporter)[the murder doll] Age: 19 Physical description: A small looking woman with short black hair clad in chain and cloth armor. Pale skin, making her resemble a large painted doll when not moving. Has tiny breasts and an even smaller bladder, which she will relieve whenever she pleases. Background: A skilled fighter, Sif’s doll like appearance makes her enemies underestimate her. By the time they realize their mistake, it is too late. Little is known about Sif’s past. If chosen as the protagonist, starting quest The Doll is activated. Class/Starting Stats: Spear Fighter: Level 10 Strength: 6 Magic:0 Defense: 4 Resistance: 2 Luck: 4 Brutality: 10 Skills: Merciless: 40% chance to instantly finish off an enemy when they are wounded. Lethality: 10% chance to instantly finish off an enemy. Starting equipment: Iron Nagitama: An eastern polearm: 70% accuracy, 5 base damage, 15% natural crit chance. Ciel (mentor)[the witch seer] Age: ??? Physical description: A young looking woman with short purple hair and a golden eye patch. Her purple robe and black witch hat cover her body, making it unsure what her body looks like. She also never seems to relieve herself, which means that either she can relieve herself magically or the inside of her robe is usually soaked. Background: Ciel is a witch who has forgotten how long she has known magic or been able to see into the future. All she is certain of is that the protagonist needs her assistance, whether Ciel likes it or not. Class/Starting Stats: Witch, Level 25 Strength: 2 Magic: 9 Defense: 3 Resistance: 7 Luck: 4 Wisdom: 10 Skills: Future Sight: 60% chance to avoid enemy attacks, after seeing them happen in the future. Witchcraft: 5% chance on turning enemies into small animal when attacking with dark magic Starting equipment: Nosferatu: A dark tome: 60% accuracy, 6 base damage, 5% natural crit chance, absorbs half damage dealt as health. Alice (Mentor)[the assassin’s legacy) Age: 31 Physical description: A woman with a long brown hair in a pony tail. Standing five foot ten, usually in tight leather, pressing her B cups close to her body, she is more concerned about who sees her relieve her medium sized bladder rather than where she does it. For example, she will not pee in front of her daughter. In addition, she won’t cheat on her husband, but if pushed to her sexual limit, she imagines her husband would forgive her if it was with another woman. Background: Working as an assassin for many years while her husband raised their daughter, Morrigan. Once her daughter and husband went missing, she retired from assassination and went out into the world to find them, helping whoever she could along her along the way. If mentoring Morrigan, starting quest is changed to Father. Class/Starting Stats: Assassin: Level 5 Strength: 7 Magic: 0 Defense:3 Resistance: 4 Luck: 7 Dexterity: 10 Skills: Heartseeker: All attacks have an additional 30% chance to crit Lethality: Has a 10% chance to instantly kill her enemy. Starting equipment: Estoc: A deadly thrusting sword: 80% accuracy, 7 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Steel bow: A well-made longbow: 85% accuracy, 6 base damage, 10% natural crit chance Z (Mentor)[the grim knight] Age: ??? Physical description: An imposing six foot one figure clad in black plate mail with a featureless black mask. The only piece of skin that can be seen is his impressive manhood in one of the rare moments that he relieves himself. Background: A mysterious man who refuses to say why he is here, but has shown how prowess in combat enough for few to question him or his loyalty. Class/Starting stats: Revenant: Level 5 Strength: 6 Magic: 6 Defense: 5 Resistance: 4 Luck: 2 Dominance: 10 Skills: Soul Crash: When using magic, high chance to stun enemies Soul Crush: Has the ability to make sure that fallen enemies don’t get back up. Starting equipment: Dark axe: A large axe made from a black metal: 50% accuracy, 8 base damage, 20% natural crit chance. Black fireball: a burning orb of darkness hurled at the enemy: 60% accuracy, 6 base damage, 10% natural crit chance. With the options available, please vote for the combination you would like to see. If I see a trend, I’ll continue this story with Chapter One. In addition, if you would like to, please vote from a scale of one to five (one being dry, five being completely soaked) on how much you would like omorashi to play a factor. Also, vote whether or not you’d like to see messing make appearances in the story. With that being said, fingers crossed that this little story of mine turns out well.
  14. View File 2 Girls are Messing there Diapers I Found this one on the Internet, cant remember where tho. It shows 2 girls who are messing there Diapers together, i really like this one so i thought i should share it xD If this is a reupload, well then sorry for that. Submitter Secretguy510 Submitted 05/23/2017 Category Diapers and ageplay  
  15. Version 1.0.0

    214 downloads

    I Found this one on the Internet, cant remember where tho. It shows 2 girls who are messing there Diapers together, i really like this one so i thought i should share it xD If this is a reupload, well then sorry for that.

    Free

  16. View File (SAMPLE) DLSL-157 - sequel of 036 (to be edited) Submitter KubaAseph Submitted 05/23/2017 Category Skirt Wetting  
  17. For your consideration, seven videos from verified amateur Kinky Eve of the PornHub community, based out of Oz, and by all accounts, a fun-loving gal: Solo pant wetting (released a mere three weeks ago), a blue panty ruffled piss on a toilet. Panty pee, nearly identical to the first, but with a face. Perhaps this was shot as a multicam? (It wasn't.) Spank my ass and pee, an exercise in self-domination, with Kinky Eve playing both dominatrix and submissatrix, bent over, peeing through some kind of spidery black lingerie the, get this, flogging her own ass with a novelty flogger no doubt purchased from an "adult toy" store, festooned with pigtails. Whipped for peeing pantys, similarly themed to the previous, Kinky Eve wets her panties (note the spelling, Eve!) and flogs herself, but this time she does it as a sunglasses-wearing "girl next door" and let's her camera operator take a few swipes with the flog upon her ass. She drops her panties in this one, folks. Pissing outdoors, a trenchcoat and lacy drawers pee through a leg hole on some public or private land (probably in the Southern Hemisphere). Stay away if you oppose the viewing of a woman's vulva peeing through the leg hole of her lacy drawers. Wetting pants, a mistitled video wherein Kinky Eve pees through jean shorts in a granite bathroom in front of a tub, with a translucent camisole that does little to hide her dark nipples. Keep in mind when browsing these videos that they are on PornHub, noted hub of porn, meaning that even in the several of these devoid of the denuded female body, you might encounter nudity and different arrangements of limbs and pleasures such that one might see in sexual interactions.
  18. There is a list of people I’d like to thank before we get to the story. I’d like to thank @Bulge_Lover for being my editor and inspiring me to write medieval themed stories. Had it not been for him, I would have never taken to writing about medieval stuff. He has always been there for me and motivated me whenever I needed it. Thank you so much my friend! Your advice has always proved to be helpful. Thank you so much for everything. It wouldn’t have been possible without you! I’d like thank @KozmoFox for reviewing my work when it was still at a nascent stage. Thank you so much! You are an inspiration and your guidance was really helpful! I got to learn so much from you. Thank you! It wouldn’t have been possible without you! Thank you @OmoCommando for editing the first part of this story for me. You were truly kind and helpful and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me with my work. I’d like to thank @holditin for always inspiring me with his works and giving me the strength to believe that I can write whatever I love to write. Thank you so much buddy! You truly are an inspiration! And in the end, I’d like to thank @full-bladder12 for always motivating me and pushing me to keep writing omorashi! Thank you so much for supporting my work! I owe you big time! Thank you! Coming to the story, it is the sequel to my previous work, A Song of Swords, which I’m sure some of you might have read. It has a medieval setup which means it highly underlines the medieval practice of violence, though I promise you it was all necessary for the story. The story is built upon the base of the great fantasy works famous throughout the world, which will be evident once you begin the journey. These great works of literature have always inspired me and I’ve always wanted my work to be a reflection of them. I hope I’ve done justice to the great writers who have written these stories and to my readers as well. ---------------------------------- The Rains Of War CHAPTER- I THE CITY OF THE GODS The loud cry of warhorns, the screech and thud of catapults tossing stones, the crashes and splinters, the crackle of burning pitch, the fling of scorpions releasing their iron headed shafts, the ceaseless clangour of bells... and with it all, the cries of dying men. The sounds of battle pervaded the halls of the King’s Fort, where in a bunker the trestle tables were filled with the highborn ladies of the city, along with a handful of old men and young boys. The Queen had promised they all would be safe here. She sat on the high dais with her son, Prince Iwan. Her gown had a shade of green, like the colour of the sea after a storm. Her hair was tied in a bun and around her slender neck hung a rope of diamonds and emeralds. She signalled for her mug of beer to be refilled while the others quietly went at their broth. They had been here since morning, since the first report of the advancing enemy had reached the castle, praying to the mother as their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers and nephews prepared for battle. Though silence prevailed in the room, the air was heavy with fear, Queen Charlotte could sense it. If they were to lose this war, the Daltons would not spare even a single one of them. They had been raiding her father’s lands ever since she had managed to slip out of their clutches almost a year ago. Towns were brutally sacked, the buildings burned, the bodies of men, women and children butchered in the streets and left as fodder for rats and carrion crows. The long struggle had left the Torrington forces tired, beaten and broken trying to defend their lands from the enemy’s incessant onslaught. For long now, the Queen had worried about what would happen if Lord Reynard decided to march for Godswick. There was nothing to stop him from taking the city and the throne, and now all her fears were coming true. The attack she had dreaded for so long was at last at hand. The news of the approaching Dalton army had incited terror in the city streets. Thousands of smallfolk had streamed out the city gates in these past few days, carrying their children and their worldly possessions on their backs to seek safety in the country side, while others dug pits and tunnels under their hovels, dark clammy holes where they hoped to hide whilst the city burned. Riots had broken out all over the city as mobs surged through the streets, looting as they went. Hundreds died in stampedes, women were raped, and young ones had been plucked from their mothers’ breasts. The city guard lost over a hundred of their men trying to control the crowd. The Queen had ordered the city gates to be closed and barred days ago, sending watchmen to the walls and dispatching pigeons to Longford, carrying a message for her brother Walter, pleading him to come to her aid at once. As well, she had commanded pigeons to be sent to all the lords loyal to the crown, summoning them to the defence of their Queen, but most of them were afraid to stand against the Daltons and those who weren’t had already been put to sword. The city stood defenceless, like a lamb before a pack of wolves and the fate of the crown now rested in the hands of the almighty. The broth was followed by a salad of diced red-skinned apples, celery, grapes, chopped walnuts and yogurt. However scared, the guests ate whatever was served to them, though not the Queen, her plate was left untouched. After the salad came roast fowl, served along with frumenty and cabbage pottage, trailed by mutton roasted with leeks and carrots, served in trenchers of hollowed bread along with chicken covered with yolks and sprinkled with spices. The war raged outside the city walls till late at night. Thousands lost their lives, some only their arms or legs. The city was an image of blood, mud, fire and smoke. Arrows, rocks, screams and curses flew freely in the air. The guardians of the city fought bravely till the wee hours of morning but when the tide of the battle started turning in favour of the Daltons, their courage deserted them. Many threw down their weapons and ran, many yielded, but the most devastating blow to the city came when the captains commanding the twelve gates were murdered by their own men. A bit of coin had weakened the loyalty of those who were thought to be the city’s protectors. The city gates were opened to the Dalton army. For all the vaunted strength of its walls, Godswick fell in less than a day. A bloody fight waged at one of the gates where a few knights and men-at-arms still loyal to the crown tried to fight the enemies and hold against attacks both from inside the city and out, but their courage was for vain as Lord Reynard’s army poured in through the other gates unmolested. The realization that they were vastly outnumbered took the heart out of the Queen’s men. When they saw that resistance was futile, the members of the royal council surrendered the keys to the castle, bowing their heads in defeat, and ordered the knights and men-at-arms to lay down their swords. Though he had conquered the city, Lord Reynard’s triumph was far from complete. The Dalton soldiers stormed the castle and killed everyone they could find. But when they broke down the doors of the bunker they only found a flock of frightened women. The Queen had fled with her son, along with the knights Barnabus Ricaud, Mark Ambrose, and Robyn Hawksworth of the Queensguard. Not even the members of the council seemed to know where they had gone, and none had seen them pass through the city gates. CHAPTER- II WELCOME Rain lashed at Charlotte's face as she spurred her horse across the swollen stream. Beside her, Sir Mark gave the reins a tug and his mount neighed in response. A cold wind made the trees dance and sent the wet leaves flapping around them. She looked back at Iwan and hoped he could keep up. Though the Prince was now all of eleven, he still was not a good rider even in fair weather, and a whole day of rain had left the ground muddy with hidden rocks. The wind brought the water right into Charlotte’s eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her sodden and itching, her butt sore after the long ride. The sound of steady wash of rain against leaves filled her ears. It was mid-afternoon, yet the forest seemed as dark as dusk. All the beer and water she had drunk since yesterday sloshed inside her cavernous bladder, yet she rode on without a thought of it. Even now she felt no more than a slight urge for relief. The cold air made her shivery and her fingers felt stiff, she longed for a fire and a little tea to warm her. They wove a path between rocks and puddles, past great oaks, grey-green sentinels, and black-barked ironwoods. In places the branches wove a canopy overhead and she found a moment's respite from the drumming of the rain against her head. From a distance, she could see the massive walls and stout towers of Tilsworth. Green banners flew from its battlements, displaying the graceful golden deer of its lord. Lord Gilbert Furnival had been a loyal support to her father and had followed him into many wars without doubts or questions. She knew he would protect her and her son. When they got close enough a knight rode out to meet them. His armour was grey, but his cloak was the rippling green and black of Tilsworth. “Who goes there? State your purpose.” “Sir Mark Ambrose, with Her Highness Queen Charlotte and Prince Iwan,” the Queensguard answered. The knight lifted his visor. “I thought the lady looked familiar. It is a pleasure to have you both here, my Queen and my Prince,” he bowed. “May we enter the castle?” Sir Barnabus asked. The knight nodded in agreement. “In the name of Robert Furnival, Lord of Tilsworth, I bid you enter freely, and charge you to keep his peace.” “Robert?” Charlotte’s voice sounded her confusion, “I’m here to meet Lord Gilbert, his father.” “Forgive my man’s folly, my Queen,” she heard Robert call as he approached, guarded by half a dozen men-at-arms of his own. “My Lord father awaits you inside the castle.” He smiled and bowed. “My apologies he couldn’t be here to greet you, his health keeps him confined to his chambers.” Her mind found itself restless, her body a victim of fatigue. All she wanted to do now was take a long piss and go to sleep. Dulled by exhaustion, she nodded at Sir Mark. Stable boys took their horses from there and they walked inside afoot. “This way, if it please you, my Queen,” the Lord showed them the way, “You honour us greatly by being our guest, Your Highness.” But before she could respond to Lord Robert’s greetings, they came across something in the courtyard they would have never imagined … though Lord Gilbert’s charred corpse was burned beyond all recognition, hanging from the gallows; only by the jade ring he used to wear on his left thumb did Charlotte know him. The blood drained from the Queen’s cheeks, but young Prince Iwan was the first to realize what it meant. “Mother, run!” he shouted, but it was too late. Lord Robert’s men, over forty strong, fell upon the three Queensguard. An axe took Sir Robyn Hawksworth’s head before his sword could come out of its scabbard, and Sir Barnabus was stabbed through the back with a spear. Men closed from both sides. Sir Mark Ambrose reached back over his shoulder, ripped his sword from its sheath, and buried the blade in the head of the first man to come at him. Bronze was no match for steel. The blow sheared right through the guard’s helm and deep into his skull, Sir Mark kicked on his shoulder to free his sword, which came out blanketed with blood. Steel rang on steel as he danced with his sword and corpses fell to his feet, one after the other before a spear pierced through the back of his neck. Blood sprouted from his mouth as he choked with the fall and with him died the last of the Queen’s defenders. “Sir Mark Ambrose.... the greatest swordsman to ever walk....,” Robert smiled as he looked at the dead bodies lying all around him. Charlotte pulled her son to her chest,“Why?!” she yelled, tears welling from her eyes, the terror of her life stopping the words in her throat. For a moment she had thought she was safe. “Sometimes the old must go, to make place for the new. King Reynard is the new lord of the twelve kingdoms and anyone who denies his claim will die, just like my old Lord father did,” Robert stated. He signalled his guards with his head and they pulled Iwan away from her. “Mother!” he shouted. “No!” she screamed, trying to fight the men but to no gain. Her son was gone, she could not see him anymore. Where had they taken him? She did not know. CHAPTER- III DARK Her eyes had never starved for light like this ever before. There were no windows, no bed, no goblets made of gold that she was used to. Only darkness. She remembered walls of black stone, incompletely covered in a blanket of moss, a brownish door of splintered wood, four inches thick and studded with iron. She had seen them, briefly, a quick glimpse as they shoved her inside. Once the door had slammed shut, she had seen no more. The dark was absolute. She now knew how it might feel to be blind. The dungeon was under the castle, deeper than she dared imagine. Robert’s face seemed to float before her in the darkness. His shrewd, cunning eyes, his smile reflecting mockery. She wept when she thought of Iwan, though as silently as she could. The thought of him was as painful as a sword through the heart. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She wondered whether she would ever see him again. For how long she had been here she did not know. There was no sun and no moon. Charlotte closed her eyes and opened them; it made no difference. She slept and woke and slept again. She did not know which was more horrifying, waking or sleeping. When she slept, she dreamed of death and blood, and when she woke, all she could think of was about the same. Her bladder was jutting out of her abdomen now, filled with three days worth of piss. She knew she was in a dungeon, she knew she was alone and no one would see her if she decided to relieve herself here on the floor, but her pride stopped her. She was a lady, and a proper lady always and only relieved herself in a privy or a chamber pot and nowhere else. She was half-asleep when the footsteps came down the hall. Water, she thought. When the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sudden light was painful to her eyes, though she had grown used to it in this short while. The gaoler thrust a jug at her. The clay was cool and beaded with moisture. She grasped it with both hands and drank eagerly till it was empty. They brought her water every three to four hours but every time she drank it like she’d been thirsty for days. Something made her throat dry, maybe it was the fear. “How long..?” she asked weakly. The gaoler was an ugly man with a pot belly and bald, clad in a mail shirt and a leather half cape. “No talking,” he said as he pulled the jug from her hands. “Please,” Charlotte said, “my son...,” The door crashed shut. She blinked as the light vanished, lowered her head to her chest, and curled up on the straw. She could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. For as long as her spirit and strength gave her consent, she begged the man for some word of her son and the world beyond her cell. Grunts and kicks were her only replies. Later, when the stomach cramps began, she begged for food instead. Though they did not feed her, the gaoler brought her mugs of milk from time to time. One thing was clear to her by now, if Robert wanted her dead, he would have cut her down the moment he saw her. He wanted her alive. Weak, desperate, yet alive. But why? She lay there on the straw in silence as her bladder swelled further with all the water and milk and all the beer she had before leaving her castle. She ran a hand over her belly and wondered when she’d get to use a privy? Will they ever let her out of here? If not, would she just have to keep holding it? For long she listened to the sounds of beating and torture from other cells, she listened until she could listen no more to the cries and pleas, begging for the gift of death. Horror crept under her skin, so much that she lost her sleep. It had been two days since she had eaten, or maybe three. Down here in the dark it was hard to tell. But at least they brought her milk, the other prisoners did not get even that. But she could feel all the liquid bothering her bladder now. She wondered what fate had in store for her. Would she get out alive? Whenever she closed her eyes, she found herself remembering her husband. All this would have never happened had he been alive. Suddenly, she heard the sounds outside the dungeon door. It was strange. They had brought her water and milk just a while ago, so she knew this wasn’t that. They were coming to beat her, they would torture her. At once she froze, fearing even to breathe. She listened in terror, hard as stone, to the scuff of boots and the clanking of iron keys. No, she thought, no, please gods, not me, not me. She did not want to die, not this way. The sounds were growing louder. Please gods, he isn’t coming for me, she prayed, crouched down in a corner of her cell. Go away, she prayed, go away, pass me by, please, please. But the footsteps stopped just when they were loudest, and the keys clattered right outside the door. Her hands trembled in horror. “No,” she mumbled, “Noooo.” Her clothes fought with the straw as she tried to push herself into the corner, into the cold damp stone walls. The sound of the lock turning was the most terrible of all. Torchlight fell across her face as the door creaked open. She shielded her eyes with a hand. And when the man came to stand before her, she let out a shriek. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He was simply too big to be unintimidating and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of clay pots, and his feet in their leather boots were like tree trunks. She looked at him wide eyed, afraid that he was going to smash her skull open or do something even worse. Charlotte was certain she was going to die tonight but then the giant opened his mouth, “My Queen, don’t be scared,” he bowed down a bit, “I’m Gunther, the kennel master, come with me, I’ll get you out of here” he said. For a moment she did not believe him. Maybe this was a trap. But how much worse could it get? “My son” her lips trembled, tears flooding her cheeks. He held out his vast muscular arms to help her up. “Don’t worry, he has escaped,” the giant whispered. “Now come with me before someone sees us.” The gaoler was dead drunk in a puddle of wine, with his breeches down around his ankles. They quickly climbed the steep dungeon steps, the flame of the torch in Gunther’s hand flickering like a dancer’s hips. “The Hunter’s Gate has no guards,” he spoke but Queen Charlotte didn’t reply; only looked at him. She walked rigidly, with her thighs slightly pressed together and a hand on her stomach, a sign that she would like to let out her three days worth of urine, but she didn’t let it show and kept her composure strong. It was a chill dank autumn night. Clouds hid the roof of stars above and wind made the trees dance. It smelled like rain. Charlotte did not know whether that was good or bad for their escape. No one saw them, and they saw no one, only a black cat creeping along atop the wall. The fires were out, and the castle fast asleep. The postern gate was unguarded, just as he had said. Outside the walls of Tilsworth, a wolf howled long and loud. Gunther lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door, they slipped from the castle and splashed across the stream, stumbling over stones. Wisps of pale mist threaded between the trees. Sentinels and soldier pines grew thick about here, and there was nothing as dark and gloomy as an evergreen forest. CHAPTER- IV A FRIEND INDEED The rays of the morning sun pierced through the roof of leaves over their heads, showing them the way ahead. Her mount walked forward in the dense forest, beside Gunther’s large garron. They crossed a shallow stream and went deeper into the woods. Many a times during the cold night that went by, Queen Charlotte had found the moments to close her eyes and sleep, even if it was for short whiles. But the man had been awake since their escape. Only once had he stopped to rest and eat apples that he had carried in a sack. Charlotte had been fending off her increasing bladder pangs for hours now, trying not to think much of it. Taking a deep breath, she again reminded herself that she had to wait until she got to a privy or a chamber pot, no matter how badly she wanted to go. She knew her bladder was much too large but everyone had their limits. More and more she found herself thinking of emptying her swollen vessel but every time she erased the thought from her mind. She looked around to take her mind off her need and felt as if she knew the place. “The Enchanted Forest,” she sighed. Of all the tales her Lord father had told her of the place, one she had cherished more than the rest. It told of a monstrous beast that lived in this forest over ten thousand years ago, a lion with the head of a goat arising from its back, and a tail that ended with a snake’s head. Every night the fiend would appear from the forest to hunt people from the nearby village. It killed anyone it could find men, women or children and dragged them back to its den to devour. To appease the creature, the people of the village fed it two sheep every day. But when they ran out of sheep they started feeding it their children who they would choose through draw. There came a time when the lot fell on the lord’s daughter.The lord, in his grief, told the people they could have all his gold and silver and half of his lands if his daughter were spared but the people refused. The poor girl was sent out to the forest to be fed to the monster. But just when it appeared from the woods, snarling at the trembling girl, Sir Richard Cantillon, who happened to be riding through, thrust his sword into the beast’s back. A gory battle took place between the knight and the monster which ended when Sir Richard buried his sword into the animal’s stomach. It died, but not before bathing the warrior in a burst of flames that cooked him in his armour. When she was a child, all Charlotte wanted was to become like Sir Richard Cantillon, strong, valiant and kind. But the older she grew, the more she realized that what she wanted did not matter. What mattered was her father’s name and the honour of their house, what mattered was her husband’s crown and the name it held and what mattered was her son’s life and the throne he was going to sit on. She now knew that her life had never been her own. It had been for others, the ones she loved. They went on for another hour before in the middle of the dense forest they came upon a small hut with a chimney that had smoke coming out of it. Gunther lifted her from the saddle and gently landed her on the ground before knocking on the thick wooden door, “Martha?” The door opened and stepped out a beautiful middle aged woman, who looked gentle by her appearance. “Your Highness, this is Martha, my wife,” Gunther said. “Oh, my Queen!” Martha bowed when she realized who stood before her, “It is such a great pleasure to have you here!” she couldn’t control her joy and kissed Charlotte’s hands, “Please do come in” she welcomed Her Highness, and the Queen smiled meekly, trying to conceal her bladder fatigue. “The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing, Gunther, you'll get us some fish," Martha echoed. “Of course, my dear,” the giant picked up the net that hung outside and left for the brook nearby. Meanwhile Martha filled the kettle, lay the table, cut the bread and put the plates in the oven to heat and drew a huge jug of beer for Gunther from a barrel which stood in one corner of the house. Just as the frying-pan was nicely hissing, Gunther came in with the fish which he had already opened with his knife and cleaned out in the open air. The new-caught fish smelled rich while they were fried it, making him feel hungrier. Martha drained the potatoes and then put them all back in the empty pot to dry on the side of the range before dishing up the trout as everyone prepared to eat. There was a jug of creamy milk for the Queen and a great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table to go with their potatoes. Though the Queen only had some bread along with the milk, she felt hungry no more. “I would like to thank you both, I owe you my life,” Charlotte spoke, “I promise you’ll be rewarded handsomely for this,” she finished as she looked at them. “Oh, that won’t be needed, my Queen,” Martha smiled, “It is our duty to serve Her Highness.” She forced a smile but her concern soon boiled over. “I’m worried for Iwan, I don’t know where he might be now,” she held her face. “Norman, one of the stable boys, I asked him to take the Prince to your brother who is not too far away from the capital now, moving forward with this mighty host,” Gunther assured her, “We could have escaped together but this way it will be difficult for them to catch us.” “Does my brother know?” Charlotte asked, her fist clenching tightly over the table. “No, he doesn’t,” Gunther replied, “Robert planned to sell you to a flesh merchant from across the Troubled Sea. Men would kill to have the Queen warm their bed. It won’t be long before the word gets out though,” he stood up, “Robert will have his men looking for you, that is why I brought you here.” Martha filled one of Gunther’s huge beer jugs and placed it before the Queen. “Thank you,” Charlotte said with a wry smile, avoiding mentioning her swelling bladder. Despite a wait this long, the Queen was not desperate. The beer was going to make its presence felt soon enough but she knew she could hold it. “Lord Walter plans to march on Godswick when the time is right. Reynard Dalton sits warily on the throne. His forces have dwindled but many have joined his cause, mainly out of fear,” the giant said. “I must be with my brother... I must go to Walter...,” Charlotte found herself drowning in her pool of thoughts. “It won’t be safe for you to move out right now,” Gunther added, “I say, you stay here, my Queen.” “I know, but I need to know where Iwan is,” she said, “I’m worried for him.” “I know, my Queen,” Gunther spoke softly, “....but I assure you he is safe, might have as well reached your brother’s camp.” That calmed her down a bit but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m afraid I must leave your here with my wife, Your Highness,” Gunther said, “I must go back to Tilsworth or they’ll come looking for me.” With a nod she gave him her leave and Gunther looked at his wife before stepping out of the door. Just as he left, Martha came to her, with her legs crossed and her body bent a little, “My Queen, if I may have your permission, can I go out to relieve myself? I haven’t been all day.......,” “Well, of course you may,” Charlotte answered. In that moment, she wished she was a commoner as well. Then she could have peed anywhere she wanted and no one would have cared. But she was the Queen; it would botch the name of her family if she was to do something like that. She shook her head and let that thought go. Hold it, she told herself as she clenched her fists over the table. As Martha rushed out, Charlotte walked to the window and looked intently at the woman. She saw Martha lift up her dress, which revealed her bulging bladder, it was gigantic! It was nothing close to her own swollen bladder but it was huge none the less. Charlotte turned around when she saw Martha begin to squat and went near the fire place but in her mind she imagined the relief that might be flowing through the woman’s body. She wanted that relief too but she knew she’d have to wait for it. As the night fell, Charlotte began to feel cold. Thus Martha heated up the mare’s milk she had full in a huge cauldron and filled a mug for Charlotte. The Queen felt much better as she began to sip the hot drink. It was something she had never tasted before, sweet and foamy and creamy, and it warmed her right down to her toes. She stayed up all night, sitting by the fireplace with a blanket around her, drinking the mare’s milk. By the morning the cauldron was empty but the Queen felt tired and her headache had worsened. Her shoulders pained and her fingers felt stiff. After she came back from picking cherries off the bushes, Martha brewed the Queen a kettle of hot nettle tea, which gave the Charlotte a slight respite from the headache. The warmth spread through her body and made her feel better. She cradled the tea in her hands and blew on it to cool it. Fate seems to be upset with me, Charlotte thought as she sipped the astringent tea, before I go to my son, I only wish to see my father once. But she knew she could not. She had written to him before the day Godswick fell. I love you father, I pray for you to the Lord each night, may he grant us strength in these difficult times. Over the day she drank over a dozen kettles of nettle tea and though it made her feel warm and nice, it didn’t help abate her headache. It made her want to pee more but she corked it up like an iron horse. When the night had shrouded the forest in its dark and Martha and Charlotte had fallen asleep, a sudden banging at the door woke them up. Martha opened the door to find Gunther, with a look of fear on his face, “Hurry, we must leave right now, Lord Robert’s men are on their way here! There’s not a moment to lose...,” Martha turned swiftly and handed over a blanket to Queen Charlotte, before picking up sacks and laying them on the table, "Gunther, just reach down that ham and get two or three loaves out of the crock over there in the corner." "What are you doing?" exclaimed Gunther. "Packing a load for each of us, dearie," said Martha chaotically. "You didn't think we'd set out on a journey with nothing to eat, did you?" "But we do not have any time to waste!" said Charlotte, wrapping the blanket around herself. "They may be here any minute." "That's what I say," added Gunther. Martha packed whatever little she could and they all rushed out. Queen Charlotte walked, her bladder straining with the movement and Gunther helped her on her horse, before they set out into the cold night. CHAPTER- V THE ONE OF HER OWN Martha had gone ahead to scout, and it was she who brought back word of the army at a distance. "By their fires I think they might be twenty thousand strong," she said. "Their banners are green, with a dancing horse." "It is my brother," Charlotte said, her mammoth bladder aching after the long night’s ride. She put her heels to her horse and trotted off, giving Gunther and his wife no choice but to follow or be left behind. Distant watchers peered down from watchposts made of wood as the three rode towards them. A dozen crossbowmen manned the uneven hilltops. Charlotte halted Martha and Gunther out of range and rode up. "Who commands here?" she shouted. The captain was quick to appear, and even quicker to give them an escort when he recognized the Queen. She could see the camp spread out to a vast distance. Mailed men sat under trees and honed their blades, and familiar banners fluttered from staffs thrust into the muddy ground. The air was filled with the smoky haze of a thousand cook fires. Thousands of pavilions rose from the grass like silken mushrooms. A party of mounted horsemen rode forward to greet them as they ventured further in. The knight who led them wore silver armour inlaid with ametrine and striped purple and golden cloak and his shield bore a lamp for the sigil. Charlotte reined up to greet him. “Sir Adam.” Sir Adam Popplewell lifted his visor. "Your Highness," he said in astonishment. "We all feared for your safety, it is a blessing to see you unharmed!" He looked at the giant and the beautiful woman besides him uncertainly. "These . . . friends of yours . . .” "My travel companions," Charlotte said. "Where will I find my brother?" "He is in his pavilion." "I will see him at once." "As you say, my Queen." Lord Walter’s camp spread over leagues. Martha’s estimate of twenty thousand men could not be far wrong. The common men camped out in the open, but the knights had thrown up tents, and some of the high lords had erected pavilions as large as houses. Near all the chivalry of the east had come to Walter’s call, it seemed. Charlotte could see the silver eagle of the Calverts, Lord Longwood's pine tree, the bells of Swinton, the beaver of Stillman. Everyone bowed as she rode past, containing all the water beer and milk she had consumed as it streamed into her bladder. And even though she was holding this much, her demeanour was calm as ever and only her bulbous abdomen could tell otherwise. Martha was gaping back; beyond a certainty, she had never seen so many men, horses, and weapons in all her days. A pair of house guards in greenish cloaks and helms stood outside the great pavilion, on either side of the door. Charlotte recognized their captain. "My brother?" "Inside, my Queen." "Those two who came with me will want clothes to wear, beds to rest and meat and mead to fill their stomachs," Charlotte told him. "See that they are well taken care of." She entered the pavilion, and there was Walter. She found her brother surrounded by their father’s lords bannermen. Walter Torrington, The acting Lord of Longford, was in his early thirties. He was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders and a flat stomach. With rich black hair, a handsome face and brown eyes. He stood leaning onto the table, a pile of maps and papers in front of him, talking intently with Earl Calvert and Victor Atwell. At first he did not notice her... but the other lords did. The lords fell silent one by one, and Walter looked up at the sudden quiet and saw her. “Charlotte?” he said, his voice thick with sentiment. Charlotte wanted to run to him, to hug him so she could feel safe again, but here in front of his lords, she dared not. So she held herself at the far end of the table. Lord Hadrian was the first to travel across the tent to pay his respects, kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. “My Queen,” he said, “you are fair as ever, a welcome sight in troubled times.” Lord Earl followed, his son Baron, and the rest, one by one. Sir Duncan was the last. “I had not looked to see you here, my Queen,” he said as he knelt. “I had not thought to be here,” Charlotte said, “....until I escaped from Tilsworth, and someone told me that Walter had his host moving towards the capital.” “My Queen, we had men looking for you everywhere but none of them could find you...,” Lord Victor said. The lords were anxious to talk to her, but Charlotte raised a hand. “No doubt we will have time for all this later, but my journey has fatigued me. I would speak with my brother alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Calvert, the bannermen bowed and took their leave. “Have you had any word of Iwan?” she asked the moment she was sure they were alone. “There was a letter,” Walter said. He went to the table, rummaged among some maps and papers, and returned with a crumpled parchment. Something in Walter’s tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. Her son was Lord Reynard’s prisoner now. She held the table for support as something broke inside her and tears came to her eyes. “He wants me to surrender you to him as well and ask my men to ride back home,” he added. “And if we march... even if we win... he’ll kill Iwan.” Her hopes were crushed, the light within her suddenly dimming. She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think. All she knew was she couldn’t lose. Not after coming this far. “If you turn your tail and retreat to Longford, your lords will lose all respect for you. Some may even go over to the Daltons. Then Reynard, with that much less to fear, can do as he likes with Iwan,” Charlotte looked at him with pleading eyes. “Our best hope, our only true hope, is that you can defeat the foe in the field. If you should chance to take Lord Reynard or any of his sons captive, then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as you have power enough that he must fear you, Iwan should be safe. Reynard is wise enough to know that he may need him to make peace, should the fighting go against him.” “What if the fighting doesn’t go against him?” Walter asked. “What if it goes against us? He has twice the numbers I have.” “They say the Daltons have hearts of stone.” Charlotte looked down for a moment and then towards him, “If you lose, there is no hope for any of us.” Walter saw the fear and desperation in her eyes. “Then I will not lose,” he vowed. CHAPTER- VI THE STONE TABLE The morning that followed was a strange one. Charlotte woke up in her pavilion that was larger than the common rooms of an inn and furnished with every comfort: feather mattress and sleeping furs, a wood-and-copper tub large enough for two, braziers to keep off the night's chill, slung leather camp chairs, a writing table with quills and inkpot, bowls of peaches, plums, and pears, a flagon of wine with a set of matched silver cups, cedar chests packed full of clothing, books, maps, game boards, a high harp, a tall bow and a quiver of arrows, a pair of red-tailed hunting hawks and more. She tried to sit up on her bed but felt an immense increase in pressure as she did so. Her bladder was now rock hard. The barrel of beer she had emptied last night while discussing the battle plan with her brother and his bannermen was now brewing inside her bladder, stretching it out immensely. She still was not at her limits, but she was very, very full and her bladder felt very heavy in her abdomen. She quickly dressed herself up but before she left for her brother’s pavilion, Charlotte reminded herself that she had to act normally no matter how much her bladder ached. She was determined to keep her legs uncrossed all the times. She knew she was in full command of her bladder and she could wait to empty it. So, nursing her bursting bladder, she walked as normally as she could to her brother’s camp. She found him sitting on his chair, looking carefully at the map that lay before him. “Your Highness,” he rose up to greet her. “Is there any word of Iwan?” Charlotte asked as she walked towards her seat, containing in her iron bladder litres and litres of urine. “Well, no. But the scouts report King Reynard has moved his army further up,” Walter studied the pieces on the map, “He wants to end this as far away from the capital as he can.” Just then a knight entered the pavilion, "Sorry to interrupt you My Lord, but there is a messenger from Reynard Dalton." Charlotte looked at her brother and he looked back at her. "Let him approach," said Walter. The knight went away and soon returned leading the King’s messenger. “What is your message?” asked Walter. "The King of Solambria desires a safe conduct to come and speak with you," he said, "on a matter which is of as much concern to you as to him." "King of Solambria, indeed!" said Charlotte. "That bastard -" “Charlotte, no,” said Walter, “.... we might have a chance to get Iwan back” he added, “Tell your King, that I grant him safe conduct.” The messenger bowed and left. The hours that went by left Charlotte’s mind laden with the thoughts of her son and for once she did not think of her bladder that was now swollen outrageously to contain the copious amount of liquid she had consumed. Even when she felt the need she acted as if her bladder was empty. Only the significant bulge of her abdomen told otherwise. The wait was getting on her nerves, but she did not worry. She knew her bladder would swell further if needs be but would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. A herald’s voice suddenly boomed across the empty skies, “Here comes King Reynard of the House Dalton, the fifth of his name, Emperor of the twelve kingdoms and the father of the realm.” The Queen felt a shudder running down her back at the sight of his face. Murmurs rose from the men around. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Walter and the King himself. They entered the tent and took their seats. "The bitch is here," said Reynard looking at Charlotte, his voice cold and straight “and I have her pup.” His words enraged Walter but he reined the storm within him. "Well," said Walter. "What do you want from us?" “What do I want? Huh!” Reynard grinned, “You speak as if you do not know. I want both their heads on spikes, yours too if you don’t mind.” “You have Iwan, why haven’t you killed him yet if that is what you want?” “Well oft times I’ve heard that a live captive is of more value than a dead one,” Reynard breathed. He looked at Charlotte and then at her brother. "Have you forgotten the Laws of the God?" asked the King, coming straight to the point, his voice stiller than before. "Let us say I have forgotten them," answered Walter gravely. "Tell us of these Laws." "Tell you?" said Reynard, his voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone that the Servants of the God carved with their own hands? You very well know the Laws of the God. You know that as the King of Solambria, every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have the right to kill." He looked at her again. "And so," continued Reynard, "....the Prince and his mother are mine. Their lives are forfeit to me. Their blood is my property." Charlotte stood on Walter’s side, looking all the time at his face. She felt a choking feeling and wondered if she ought to say something; but she didn’t know what to say. "Charlotte," said Walter, "I will talk to the King alone." She turned and left the pavilion. It was a terrible time this - waiting and wondering while Walter and King Reynard talked. They talked for long and until the night fell dark and the shimmering stars glowed in the sky. As she waited outside the tent, Charlotte gave an “aah!” and hiked one leg up as the bladder pangs grew stronger but then stood confidently without giving a trace of her desperation to the men around her, as her organ swelled past the six day mark. The gallons of water she had today were stretching her bladder walls even further. There was going to be no release of pressure until she wished it and there would be no giving into the desperate need to let out the massive lake that she had inside her, she’d just have to wait. Then suddenly King Reynard appeared out of the tent and left without saying so much as a word. Charlotte went to her brother who took a last sip from his goblet of wine. "I have settled the matter. He has renounced the claim on your lives." Charlotte felt so relieved, as if she had began to breathe again. She held her bladder as a smile ran across her face. “...and he promised to send Iwan back early on the morrow,” he continued. She couldn’t believe her ears, her joy knew no bounds. Then, she stopped, “But what did he ask for in return?” she could read the sorrow on her brother’s face. But of that she did not get an answer as Lord Walter stood up and left. Charlotte couldn’t sleep that night. She had a horrible feeling - as if something was hanging over them. She felt as if something dreadful was going to happen to her brother. Early morning the next day, as he had promised, King Reynard returned the Prince to them. Sir Adam Popplewell brought him to the Queen and she pulled him to her loving embrace, “Oh, my son....,” she cried as her fingers ruffled through his hair. “Mother!” he sobbed, the wound on his lower lip paining him. She ran her hands through his beautiful face and wept, thanking the God. “They killed Norman and they tried to kill my friend too but he got away!” the young Prince cried when he found the strength to speak. “Friend? Who?” “My friend, Tirius!” Iwan told her, trembling. “Tirius?” Charlotte believed she had never heard that name before. “Yes, mother. He is my friend,” the Prince nodded, “You would not believe but he had legs like a goat’s and two small horns over his head, he brought me apples and cherries while I hid in the forest! But then they found me!” Charlotte couldn’t believe the words of her son. Maybe the shock and fear had caught to him. She could not say. She only knew that the boy was frightened and only time would heal his wounds. She asked a squire to take the Prince to his pavilion and help him bathe, while she proceeded for the war meeting. All through the meeting she strode about around the tent as she spoke to the lord’s bannermen, still keeping her legs apart and paying no mind to her aching bladder. She needed this victory more than she needed anything else and she was going to make every effort she could for it. But during that day, many a times she heard her brother telling Lord Atwell how to place his men against the Dalton army while in battle. He told him of every move or strategy he could think of and also gave him the command of his army. "But you will be there yourself, my Lord," Lord Atwell asked. "I can give you no promise of that," Walter answered. He did not talk very much and seemed to them to be sad. Walter's mood affected everyone that evening. Lord Atwell was feeling distressed also at the idea of fighting the battle on his own; the news that Lord Walter might not be there had come as a great shock to him. Supper that evening was a quiet meal. This feeling affected Charlotte so much that she couldn't get to sleep when she went to bed. And after she had laid counting sheep and turning over and over she heard Martha give a long sigh and turn over just beside her in the darkness. "Can't you get to sleep either?" asked the Queen. “No,” said Martha. "I thought you were asleep, my Queen." "No, I couldn’t. I've a most horrible feeling - as if something were hanging over us." "Have you? Because, as a matter of fact, so have I." "Something about Walter," said Charlotte. "Either some dreadful thing is going to happen to him, or something dreadful that he's going to do." "There's been something wrong with him all afternoon," said Martha. “What was that he said about not being at the battle? You don't think he could be stealing away and leaving us tonight, do you?" "I don’t know. Where is he now?" said the Queen. "Is he here in the pavilion? I’m worried for him,” she added, "I want to see him." “My Queen, he must be asleep by now, can’t it wait till the morrow? “No, I’ve to see him right now,” Charlotte threw away her blanket, “I have a feeling that he needs me.” "All right, let's," said Martha, "....we might just as well be doing that as lying awake here." So the two women slid out of the tent and quietly made their way towards Walter’s pavilion. The moonlight was bright and everything was quite still except for the noise of the river chattering over the stones. Charlotte peeped into his tent and found he wasn’t there. "Is he here in the pavilion?" asked Martha "I don't think so." "Let’s have a look round,” Martha spoke “We might see him." And then, on the far side of the camping ground, just where the trees began, they saw her brother slowly walking away into the wood. Without a word they followed him. He led them up the steep slope out of the river valley and then slightly to the right. On and on he led them, into dark shadows and out into pale moonlight, getting their feet wet with the heavy dew. They saw that they were going up the slope of the hill on which the Stone Table stood, an ancient relic known to all the men of the realm. They heard the sounds of men talking and the two women crouched behind a thick wall of bushes. Almost a score of men stood round the Stone Table. It was a great grim slab of grey stone supported on four upright stones. It looked very old; and it was cut all over with strange lines and figures that might be the letters of an unknown language. Though the moon was shining, many of them carried torches which burned with red flames and black smoke. And right in the middle, standing by the Table, was King Reynard himself. They laughed at her brother and made japes of him. “The fool!" King Reynard said. "The fool has come. Bind him fast." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths waiting for Walter to draw his great sword and cut his enemies down. But it never happened. Four soldiers came forward to tie his hands and legs to which he made no resistance at all. Then they began to drag him towards the Stone Table. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two women could not even see him - so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of men kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him. At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag Walter to the Stone Table. “Those bastards...,” sobbed Charlotte. When once Walter had been tied on the flat stone, a silence fell on the crowd. Four men, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. Reynard Dalton pulled out his sword. The thing shone in the moonlight, white as milk. At last he drew near. He stood by Walter's head, who looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before Reynard gave the blow, he stooped down and said in a quivering voice, “Fool, did you think that by all this you would save your sister and her pup? Now I will kill you instead of the Prince as our pact. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him and his bitch mother? And who will take them out of my hand then? I have two times the men you have but this has made things really easy for me. Without a leader your army will scatter in no time. Understand that you have handed over the fate of your sister and her son into my hands, you have lost your own life and you have not saved theirs. I hope you find peace in the afterlife.” He brought down his sword to pierce right through Walter’s chest. The blood of his life ran on the stone table and he closed his eyes. Charlotte covered her face, trying to stop the images of her brother’s murder but it didn’t help. She cried without making a sound and Martha tried to hold her. CHAPTER- VII THE LAWS OF GODS AND MEN While the two women still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the King calling out, "Our work is done here. Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the whore now that her foolish brother lies dead." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths as the men walked past the bushes. They would be raped before being butchered if King Reynard got to know they hid here. Their laughs and japes echoed in Charlotte’s ears as they mounted their horses and swept off the hill-top. At any other time she would have trembled with fear; but now the sadness and shame and horror of Walter’s death so filled her mind that she hardly thought of it. As soon as the wood was silent again Charlotte and Martha crept out onto the open hill-top. The blanket of clouds hid the strokes of the moonlight, painting the night deeper and darker, but still they could see the shape of her brother’s body lying dead in his bonds. They both knelt down in the grass, before the Queen kissed his cold face and stroked his beautiful black hair; “He did this to save us...,” tears flooded her cheeks, her voice shaken. She cried and cried till she could cry no more. She looked at Martha and sobbed for she felt lonely and weak. "Help me" she said as she stood up and tried to pull out the sword that pierced her brother’s chest. They put all their strength to pull out the sword that had cut into the stone and at last it came free, her brother’s blood dripping off its edge. Charlotte tossed it aside and fondled Walter’s face. They tried to untie him but the cords were drawn so tight that they could do nothing of the knots. A certain quiet surrounded them. Charlotte felt as if nothing was going to happen ever again. Hours and hours went by in the dead calm, and they hardly noticed that they were getting colder and colder. Though Martha noticed the sky on the east side of the hill was a little less dark than it had been an hour ago. Then Charlotte in a fit of broken despair tried to untie her brother for one last time, and this time she succeeded. The sky in the east was whitish by now and the stars were getting fainter - all except one very big one low down on the eastern horizon. They felt colder than they had been all night. Every moment Walter’s dead face looked nobler, as the light grew and they could see it better. In the wood behind them a bird gave a chuckling sound. It had been so still for hours and hours that it startled them. Then another bird answered it. Soon there were birds singing all over the place. It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night. Martha rubbed arms to fight the cold as she looked on in despair at the broken Queen. The rising of the sun had made everything look so different - all colours and shadows were changed that. Charlotte held her brother in a tight embrace. Lost. All was lost. Her brother was gone. Her tears knew no end and her breathes were broken still. Defeat was absolute. “The Laws of the God...,” there came a voice from among the trees that startled both the women to the toes. “Who’s there?” Charlotte went wide eyed, horror creeping under her skin. Martha took a step back, sweat beading down her forehead. And then a very strange person stepped out of the trees, into the light. He might have been as tall as Iwan. From the waist upwards he was like a man, but his legs were shaped like a goat's, the hair on them was glossy brown and instead of feet he had goat's hoofs and his skin was rather reddish too. He had a strange, but pleasant little face, with a short pointed beard and curly hair, and out of the hair there stuck two horns, one on each side of his forehead. Charlotte and Martha couldn’t believe their eyes. A faun stood before them, a being of whom they had heard of only in fables. For a moment Charlotte thought she was dreaming but then the sight of her brother’s corpse stabbed her. “My Queen, I’m Tirius, a friend to Prince Iwan,” he bowed before her. The two of them didn’t know what to say. Fear stopped the words in their throats and left them shaking. Iwan was right, the person he had been describing was true after all. “The Laws of God, my lady, are strange but just. They say, only he can govern what is true and what is false. Only he holds the right to give life and to take it back,” he walked towards them, “....but he is not the only one who can give life. A mother can give life as well.” Charlotte looked at him with tear filled eyes. She couldn’t understand what he was saying and she didn’t know what to say. “The Stone Table was built thousands of years ago, on the command of the almighty, to serve as a symbol of justice and only the King could serve this justice,” he looked at Walter’s face, which seemed to be at peace, “The King is next to the God and his word is absolute. But if the Lord almighty gave the King the power to take life, he gave the Queen Mother the power to give life as well.” His words struck a string of hope within her. Suddenly her heart started to beat faster. “The Stone Table does not agree to the blood of an innocent,” Tirius told them, “If someone, for no fault of his is executed on the Table, then he can be brought back to life, but only by the Queen Mother.” “How?” she asked, her voice shaken, “It is not possible...,” “But it is...,” Tirius said, “It could be...it all depends upon the faith.” She looked at him, then at her brother and then at Martha. Wrecked by grief she stood up and placed her hands on the chest of her brother’s corpse, and though she didn’t believe the faun, the words came to her mouth, “My Lord, the creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you, shed your mercy upon us.....,” Her words sounded hollow to her ears, her hands touching her mistrust. She tried and tried but her brother’s breathes did not return. She sighed, broken in spirit. Her eyes closed in defeat. Tears flowing down her face. She looked at him, hoping he would move, hoping he would speak but his soul was gone. Gone far away. Her hands shook. She had lost. She looked at Martha, who stood still, not uttering a word. Charlotte turned and walked, to where she did not know. “My Lady there is one more way....,” Tirius spoke suddenly. She stopped on her track, then started walking again. “My Queen, without Lord Walter this war is lost,” Martha’s voice sounded in her ears, “Only he could have guided your men to victory.” Charlotte knew that was the truth but could she believe the faun’s words? “My Lady, inside the Castle of Light and Dark lays a hidden chamber. And inside that chamber is a tabernacle which holds a chalice of gold. The chalice that contains the God’s wine.” He stopped to catch his breath. “It is said that one can ask of anything from the Lord almighty if he succeeds to drink from the chalice and his wish shall be granted. But to get to the chalice is not easy....,” Tirius said, “It is said that magic guards the walls of the Castle of Light and Dark and to get past it is no feat for the faint of heart....,” The Castle of Light and Dark? She had never heard of it before. Was the faun lying? But what if it was the truth? Maybe it was her only chance to get her brother back. “How far is the castle from here?” “A day’s ride north,” Tirius replied, “...but my lady I must warn you, this may cost you your life...,” “If this is the way to bring my brother back, then I must do it....,” Charlotte spoke, “No matter what the cost....,” CHAPTER- VIII THE CASTLE OF LIGHT AND DARK Amongst the dense forest of larch and pine, Charlotte found the castle of Light and Dark. What she had presumed to be a magnificent stronghold was just a grey and ancient ruin, protected by the woods. She stood there with a hand on her aching bladder, her thighs pressed together. Studying the fortress and guessing what it held inside. The pressure inside her bladder had grown to the highest degree. The waterskin she had carried with her on the journey had been emptied and refilled over a dozen times since she had left Martha and her brother back at the camp yesterday and yet her bladder was unrelieved, still holding ten days worth of urine. But Queen Charlotte was confident. She knew her bladder would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. But what if it became her undoing inside the Castle of Light and Dark? “My Queen,” Tirius said, “I want you to think this through one last time...” “There is nothing to think about,” Charlotte spoke, her eyes stuck on the castle, “I have no other way,” she sighed. “It is said that many go into The Castle of Light and Dark, but few come out,” he told, “If you have decided to follow your heart, then take me inside with you. I’ve heard many tales of the place, maybe they will come of help.” “No,” she breathed, “Some places even the Queen must walk alone.” This frightened the faun, “My Queen, you must remember, the front way leads in, but never out again. Heed my words, The Castle of Light and Dark was not made for mortal men. If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you.” “I will do as you say,” Charlotte promised. “When you enter, you will find yourself in a room with four doors: the one you have come through and three others. Take the door to your left. Each time, the door to your left. If you should come upon a stairwell, climb. Never go down, and never take any door but the first door to your left.” “The door to my left,” Charlotte repeated. “I understand. And when I leave, the opposite?” “No,” Tirius said. “Leaving and coming, it is the same. Always up. Always the door to your left.” “I understand.” She sighed and as the Queen walked towards the huge wooden door, it opened itself to let her in. She turned to look at the faun for one last time and then entered the castle. The door slowly closed behind her back. She found herself in a stone anteroom with four doors, one on each wall. With some hesitation, she went to the door on her left and stepped through. The second room was a twin to the first. Again she turned to the left-hand door. When she pushed it open she faced yet another small antechamber with four doors. I am in the presence of sorcery. She felt shaken but never did she let her fear overcome her. She took the door to the left once more and found herself in a long hall. The long hall went on and on and on, with torches burning on the walls. She walked past more doors than she could count, closed doors and open ones, doors of wood and doors of iron, carved doors and plain ones, doors with pulls and doors with locks and doors with knockers. Finally a great pair of bronze doors appeared to her left, grander than the rest. They swung open as she neared, and as she entered it, Queen Charlotte saw the thing for which she was not prepared. A gigantic dragon, bound by chains lay before her, guarding the doors behind it. Even the darkness had not dimmed the beauty of its scales that shone a shade of dark green in the light that danced upon the torches. For a moment, it took her breath away. Dragon? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen one in her entire life and now, one was right before her! That’s an Asgarothian Ironbelly! She realized. She had read about dragons in the books kept in the capital’s great library and knew they had all died out centuries ago. It was a miracle to find one alive. Her amazement was short lived though as then the being sensed her. It turned its ugly head towards the Queen and roared with a noise that made the rocks tremble and then, it opened its mouth to spew a jet of fire that sent Charlotte running back. She held her bladder as she leaned back on the wall, her organ unprepared for this kind of rapid movement. The Queen went back in again, peeping at first. She could make that the creature was partially blind but only more savage for that. It looked at her fierce but then suddenly the dragon began to shift backward, as if it was scared of her. Charlotte couldn’t understand what was going on but she knew this was her only chance. The Queen slowly walked towards the wooden door behind the dragon and placed her hand on it. The door opened and she found herself in a room that was crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures— some with long spines, others with drooping wings — potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown. There at the end of the room, she saw the tabernacle. She hurried towards it and opened it to find a chalice full of red wine like the faun had told her. Charlotte raised it to her lips. The first sip tasted sour, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and blood. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the chalice was empty. She closed her eyes and prayed, “O’Lord almighty, creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you to show your mercy upon me and send my brother back to me....,” she couldn’t control her tears any longer. Then all of a sudden the ground beneath her started to shake and the pillars that held the roof started to crumble. Horror gripped Charlotte tighter than ever. “Oh no!” she wailed. Huge boulders fell down as the roof began to collapse. The castle was coming down. Maybe it was the effect of her drinking from the chalice, she did not know. All she knew was that she needed to escape or she’d be crushed to death. She rushed towards the door as fast her swollen bladder would allow. The bound dragon let out a roar but its posture still seemed submissive, as if it was afraid. Then something happened, something clicked inside her and inspiration or madness came to Charlotte. She rushed towards the dragon and climbed atop the creature, which strangely showed no resistance. “Go! Go! Go!” she commanded and go it went! Charlotte had to put all her strength into her pee hole to keep it shut but she had other things to worry about now. The cuffs broke open with loud bangs. The dragon’s scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel her. Then the creature became aware that it was unbound. With a roar it reared: Charlotte dug in her knees, clutching as tightly as she could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the pillars aside like skittles. Charlotte, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the castle continued to fall around her. By sheer force the dragon clawed and fought its way through, a massive rock hitting its head, though it wasn’t enough to stop it. Charlotte’s eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crashing of rocks and the dragon’s roars, she could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment. And then at last, as the result of the dragon’s brute strength, the remaining roof over its head fell apart. Finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell around itself, the dragon climbed atop the rubble of the falling castle with Charlotte still clinging to its back. And then after a bit of struggle, it launched itself into the sky. The Queen was crazed with fear. What if she fell off?! She looked down and saw the Castle of Light and Dark, only the way she had found it before. Unharmed, unbroken. CHAPTER – IX THE BATTLE FOR GODSWICK Swords grazed the flesh off men and horses alike. Screams and shrieks filled the cold air and rivulets of blood ran through the field of battle. Murder was never a sight so common. Lord Victor Atwell could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick. He saw Sir John impaled on a spear and watched Lord Borbon’s horse shatter a man’s ribs with a kick. A flight of arrows descended on them; where they came from he could not say, but they fell on Torrington and Dalton alike, rattling off armour or finding flesh. Lord Victor lifted his shield and hid beneath it. One by one, his men were falling. The chance of victory slipping from their hands. With Lord Walter dead, there was no chance of defeating Reynard Dalton on the field. He should have known that. Lord Victor saw his son take an arrow to his eye before he fell to the ground, dead. Men stepped on his corpse. He screamed with grief and pain, louder than he had ever screamed but the sounds of the battle muffled his voice. He ran and took the motionless body of his son in his hands and rested his head on his lap before he pulled the arrow out of his skull. Tears found their way to Victor’s blood soaked cheeks, his hands shivering and his lips trembling. His wails were loud, heavy with sorrow but unknown to the ones around him. Then he stood up, swaying his sword, in anger, in pain, in defeat. But all was lost. Someone struck him from behind and his body surrendered itself to the mud. He didn’t want to get back up. All was lost. But then he heard something that left him numb, “Lord Walter is here!” A huge roar of approval went up as men pointed their swords and spears towards the sky in joy! And then he saw him. Atop his white stallion, the Lord of Longford pierced through the enemy. He saw Lord Walter catch an arrow mid air just when it was about to core his eye. What a magnificent warrior! Walter Torrington tossed it aside and jumped off his horse, piercing his sword into an enemy as he landed. Victor could not believe his eyes. A night ago he had wept over his Lord’s corpse that lied cold in his coffin and now he stood before him. Just then the knight who had hit him came thundering down on Victor, swaying his axe. He hit Victor’s helm with the side of his weapon. His head exploded with pain, his skull suddenly heavier than a boulder. Victor’s sword fell. He clawed on the ground for anything he could get his hands on, but the knight hit the side of his axe on Victor’s face once more and he fell down again. He did not recall hitting the ground, but when he looked up there was only sky above him. He rolled onto his side and tried to find his feet, but pain shuddered through him and the world throbbed. The knight drew up above him. "Lord Victor," he boomed down. "You are mine. Do you yield?" Yes, he thought, but the word caught in his throat. He made a croaking sound and fought his way to his knees, fumbling for a weapon. His sword, his dirk, anything . . . "Do you yield?" The knight loomed overhead. He seemed immense. The axe in his hand a raw piece of steel. Victor's hands were numb, his vision blurred, his scabbard empty. "Yield or die," the knight declared. “Fuck you, pig,” Lord Atwell mouthed and in an instant his head was gone. Lord Walter stood on the other side of the field. The battle seemed to have moved beyond him. No one remained on his part of the field save a large number of corpses. Ravens were already circling and landing to feed. The sound of hooves coming up behind him made him whirl, and he saw King Reynard’s reserve come sweeping along. Walter watched as the remnants of his lines got shattered like glass beneath the hammer of the Dalton charge. He had lost the battle. Then the enemies turned towards him. His eyes met theirs’. Suddenly Lord Walter felt as if the world had stopped moving and then he heard the word, “Charge!” Thousands of mounted men were coming towards him. To kill him. To rip him apart. He readied himself, tightening the grip on his great sword. He could feel the earth shuddering beneath his feet, sweat running through his brow, eyes pierced at the sea of warriors that was charging towards him. This was it. He had failed his sister. He had failed his men. This was his end. He closed his eyes and remembered his father, his late mother and his sisters. But then, a sound of thunderous roar filled the skies. Every eye on the battle field looked up and there it was. A dragon. King Reynard watched open mouthed as the great being flapped its gigantic wings. And then he saw her. Sitting atop the dragon’s back. The Queen. In the blink of an eye the dragon came sweeping down to rain fire on his men. Shrieks of horror went up in the skies as an inferno engulfed them. Many ran to save their lives, many got cooked. The dry grasses and stands of wheat went up at once. The wind fanned the flames and blew the smoke into the face of the King. The scent of fire sent the horses into panic, and as the smoke thickened, horse and rider alike were blinded. Their ranks began to break as walls of fire rose on every side of them. The remaining of the Torrington men waited with their bows and spears and made short work of the burned and burning Dalton men who came staggering from the hellhole. More than twenty thousand men died in the flames and what remained of King Reynard’s men perished from swords and spears and arrows. The beaten King looked on as the battle slipped from his hands. All was lost. He began to flee but found someone standing before him. A ghost of his past. A man he had killed. “I hope you find peace in the afterlife,” Lord Walter said before putting his sword through Reynard’s belly. Blood sprouted from his mouth before he fell to the ground. Dead. The echoes of, “Long live the Queen!” and “Long may she reign!” filled the air. A smile ran across Walter’s face. The war was over. They had won. CHAPTER– X THE END The night that followed was that of celebration. Lord Walter held a small feast to mark their victory and everyone drank to the health of the Queen. Charlotte herself drank a large amount of beer on the insistence of the Lords and knights present, though she had not wanted to. She had not made water in days, and the last thing she wanted was more liquid getting pumped inside her tired bladder, but she very well could not refuse the men who had fought for her. As the night darkened and the Queen went to her bed, sleep evaded her. She was beginning to grow less and less confident in her ability to hold her piss and was clenching her muscles as tight as she could, her calmness slowly slipping away. The pressure was getting to her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her bladder filled considerably during the night and by the time it was morning, Queen Charlotte was feeling a fairly intense urge to piss. She knew there was no room left for her bladder to expand and she had little will power to continue her hold. But regardless, she got up and dressed herself. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode but the Queen withheld her pressure and waited calmly until it was time for her to leave for the capital. She was dying to get to the castle, rush to the privy and take the piss of her life. She just wanted to let it all out. Hold on, you can hold on, she told herself. Waves of urgency came upon her again and again as her bladder attempted to release its contents to save itself from bursting apart but the Queen held on, endlessly. Her composure unshaken. But inside her chest, her heart beat faster than ever, her head heavier than a boulder. She realized she wasn’t able to think straight, did she really needed to pee that much? It did not matter. She would hold it till she reached inside the walls of the King’s Fort. Inside her chamber. Inside her privy. Only then would she relieve herself. She thanked all the Lords for their support in the war and kissed her brother’s brow before climbing atop her horse, barely controlling her immense need to piss. They all waved at her, Walter, Gunther, Martha and the rest, and she waved back, and so did her son who rode right beside her. Surrounded by a dozen guards, they went on their way as the others looked on. As they rode on into the dusk, Charlotte found herself grabbing her crotch whenever she was sure no one was looking. She could not believe the pressure, it was more than she’d felt ever before. She had never wanted to wee this badly in all her life, yet she was determined not to let it show to the men who rode with her and especially not to her son. She reminded herself that she did not need to worry; her bladder was cast-iron, strong and unbreakable. But then why did she feel so worried? She realized she did not want to think about it. They’d get to the capital tomorrow anyway, until then she’d just not think about it. She just pressed her crotch on the saddle of her horse and rode on. After another hour of riding, they spotted a watchtower. It meant they were on the border of her father’s lands and the royal grounds started from here on out. As they got closer to the tower, Charlotte spotted three armoured men on horsebacks. One carrying a banner with the rampant Griffin of House Seymour on it, the sigil of her late husband’s house and now hers. The three men rode towards them, grasping swords and shields. “It’s an honour to have you here, my Queen and my Prince,” one of them said, “I would like to congratulate you on your victory.” “Many thanks to you, my friend,” Queen Charlotte said forcing a smile. Her bladder was absolutely bursting by this point, her desperation growing by the minute. She realized her hands were shaking. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she was growing restless and panic was starting to crawl up her chest. Was this because she had to urinate? No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t be. She was the Queen. She could hold on as long as she wanted to. Then why was she sweating? Why was she afraid of losing control? Why? Why? Then, it suddenly hit her, I cannot hold it. M-my bladder is going to explode! I have to piss....i-it’s going to come out! I need to find somewhere to go! I have to piss! Oh my god, I have to piss! Her body was trembling, but she couldn’t let it show to everyone. Hide it, hide it! She screamed within. Holding the reins tighter in her trembling hands. “My Queen, we’d be honoured to have you as our guest at the tower, to share our meat and mead and our roof for the night,” Oliver, one of the men said. Albert, the captain of the Queen’s escort replied, “I thank you for the offer, but we must continue on our way to the capital.” “Wait,” Charlotte said suddenly. “I think we will accept your offer of hospitality. I am sure my guards are hungry, and my back is sore from riding. If you could give me a private room with a bed in which I could rest till the morrow, I would be very grateful to you.” “My Queen,” Albert whispered quickly. “... the capital is just a few hours away, we’ll reach home if we cont--” “I have given my command,” Charlotte said sternly, although on the inside she was frantic. She’d already waited past the breaking point. She knew she didn’t have much time left. “We’ll rest here for the night,” she finished much more politely, turning back to Oliver. “Of course, my Queen,” Oliver said with a bow. “I thank you. With haste, then,” Charlotte said loudly over the whispered protests of her guards. She ignored them completely as she reined her horse to follow Oliver towards the tower. It was a short ride, and soon they were dismounting and making their way into the tower. Oh, she couldn’t wait to piss! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! She screamed internally at Oliver, who was leading them inside. Charlotte walked into the lobby, her bladder ready to crack, “My room?” she asked straight away. “My Queen, would you like some wine before your rest?” he asked. “N-no, not at all,” Charlotte held her brow, squeezing her thighs as tightly together as she could, “Just show me to my room, please....” “Of course,” Oliver replied. “If you would follow me.” Charlotte turned to step after him, and he led her to the base of the tower's staircase. She trembled at the thought of climbing up stairs when she was just moments away from losing complete control of her bladder. Nor did she have the energy neither the time to fight off her need anymore. Still, there was no escaping it. She lifted her right leg and took the first step of the tall tower, then another with her left. Every time she raised a leg, her thigh pressed into the bottom of her bladder, causing it to send out a pulse of pain and pressure that rippled through her body. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, and she pressed her thighs together, her hands gripped in tight fists, nails digging into her pale skin. Charlotte gasped in pain, audibly but quietly, and her bladder throbbed strongly. Then, suddenly, without her consent, her pole opened for a full second and a long, hot leak escaped into her smallclothes. She froze in panic and quickly stood straight, clenching her muscles, stopping herself from wetting her dress any further. Looking down in horror and shame, she saw the wet spot on her dress, now dark green from the sudden spurt of her warm urine. Fuck, this is so embarrassing! Despite her humiliation, she continued to climb the stairs, grabbing her crotch as tightly as she could. Finally she came to a thick wooden door at the fifth floor, and she grasped the handle, stumbled inside and yelled, “Thank you so much!” to Oliver before banging the door shut at his face! She dashed straight towards the window, lifting up her dress and tearing down her small clothes as she did so. Stricken with panic, she threw her bottom over the edge of the window and at that very moment, the flood inside her erupted completely. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooohhhhhhhh mmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy ggggoooooddddd!!!” Queen Charlotte threw her head up as her eyes closed themselves tight with the immense relief that flowed through her exhausted body. Her toes curled in response of the enormous release. So much pressure... for so long... “Oooooohhhh tthhhaaannnnkkk ggggoooddd!!!” she groaned, the relief rendering her unable to open her eyes. Her whole body shivered with respite as the endless flow of piss streamed out of her. Her brain felt numb. It felt so good to finally release it! Her bladder was stretched to the bursting point. How she had managed to hold it this long she’d never know. She could feel the stream carry her stress out with it. Oh, how long had she waited for this! This glorious feeling of relief. Another heartfelt groan of relief escaped her throat as she let out her long held waters. Oh, how much her bladder had ached! The feeling of bliss as she finally felt her organ shrink was beyond what words could describe, it was pure ecstasy. The tower had come as a blessing in her time of desperate need. There was no way she could have held it all the way to the capital with her bladder that full. But now it was over. She did not have to worry anymore. She was saved. “Phew!” she breathed as she felt the heavy stream run out of her, I really needed that. The relief was so overpowering that she felt light headed. It felt so good! But this private moment of her release was interrupted when a fat man suddenly burst into her room! “My Queen!” the man said with a big smile on his face, “Am I disturbing you?” Charlotte’s eyes widened in shock and humiliation and with the fear of being found out! She didn’t know what to do or what to say! She froze where she was, not moving an inch as her piss continued to flow out of her. “Oh, Your Highness! You mustn’t sit on the window like that!” he yelped, “You might fall off!” The man she recalled as Lord Peter Walden. Many years ago she had granted him the custody of this watchtower for his dedicated service to the throne. Now he was standing before her, about to find out that she was weeing out of the window of his tower. Get lost! Get out, you idiot! She screamed within. “M-my Lord, I-I assure you that I’m safe,” she said, trying her best to cut off her flow but her sphincters were too worn out, “T-to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” “I am most grateful to you my Queen for the generosity you’ve shown us by being our guest for the night,” he said, “I hope you find your stay comfortable.” Yes! Please get out of the room! Get out! Now! “T-thank you, M’lord, that is so kind of you,” she forced a smile that told she wanted to kill him, “Is that all? You may leave now.” She was trying her best to stop the flood that was pouring out of her, all while keeping a straight face but it was out of her control now. There was no stopping it. “Oh, my Queen, I must say we’ve never had a ruler more generous and kind than Your Highness,” he went to sit on her bed, much to Charlotte’s horror, “My Queen is the fairest of all!” he laughed. Queen Charlotte felt like she’d rip him apart, but she was stuck on the window, her river of wee going on and on and on. Then finally he stood up, “Well, my Queen, I beg for your leave now. I’d look forward to seeing you at the feast,” he bowed and left with a smile, closing the door behind him. Charlotte let out a breath of relief. Lord Peter was an old man. She hoped he wouldn’t have noticed what she was doing. Her piss continued unabated for a few more minutes before she found the strength to cut off the flow and quickly climb off the window. She had botched her family name and her title of the Queen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She still had to pee a lot but her bladder was now empty more than half, which meant she had let the pressure off enough to be able to ride home. She looked out of the window as she adjusted her smallclothes and found that the wall was drenched and at the ground a massive puddle sat as if made by an elephant. A small pond of warm piss. I shouldn’t have relieved myself like that. She felt a sense of guilt overcome her but she tried to suppress it. She quickly adjusted back her dress and went down for the feast. That whole night, the Queen didn’t even look at Lord Peter out of embarrassment, but the old man seemed normal to her, as if nothing had happened. Maybe he had not found out what she was doing back in the room. She thanked the God and participated in the feast with utmost graciousness. During the entire feast, Charlotte didn’t take any wine or beer but only stuck to timely sips of water. Her bladder was completely exhausted and the last thing she wanted was more liquid making its way into it. They left for the capital early on the morrow and after a few hours ride, they saw the massive walls of Godswick at a distance. People praised her name as she rode through the city streets and children ran behind her contingent. But Charlotte cared for none of it. Her desperation had grown since they had left the tower and the Queen once again found herself on the edge of losing control. She had to get to the castle, and fast. She found a small welcoming party along with the members of the royal council waiting for her at the foot of the King’s Fort, but she dismounted and walked past them, steeling herself from grabbing her crotch in full view of her people and leaving her son behind in her frantic run to reach the privy. My room. The privy. Have to go so badly, it all took over her mind as she stepped into the great hall of her castle, ignoring the guards. She slowly climbed the stairs that led to her chamber, stopping her piss at the gates. Her breathing was heavy and her bladder completely exhausted. Hurry, hurry, hurry! She told herself. It’s going to come out! She grabbed her crotch as tightly as she could. She would never know how she had managed to put off her need to wee for so long. Somehow she reached the top of the stairs, and she turned towards her chamber. Squeezing her crotch with her trembling hand as she held her breath tight. She screamed out loud as her bladder pulsated madly within her. She needed to piss so badly! And the pressure was increasing rapidly. Her pee was just a hair breadth away from completely pouring out of her and her chamber still seemed so far. Then suddenly a long jet of her hot wee escaped out of her and she stopped in her track, her eyes widened in fear. There was nothing more she could do. I got so close...just a few more- There was no stopping it anymore. Her piss exploded in a thick stream as relief washed over her body. The Queen was wetting herself. She tried her hardest to stop the flow but failed. She looked on in disbelief at the puddle of hot piss as it grew beneath her, her eyes still wide with fear and humiliation. “Stop! Please stop!” she sighed her hands holding her face on the sides. Her body was beaten. It could have not taken the pressure any more. My God, why did you let this happen to me?! Shame crawled up her skin. What if someone saw her like this? Wetting herself in the hallway. She could not let that happen. No. She’d be humiliated for the rest of her life. She needed to move from here, but her body was frozen. She could not move. Her legs trembling as the amazing relief flowed through her. “My Queen?” Charlotte’s heart practically stopped. She looked up, eyes wide. Her handmaidens Lucille and Mary stood before her, looking on with disbelief. The Queen was wetting herself. This was a sight they shouldn’t have witnessed. The Queen’s embarrassment flowed from under her dress like a river, soaking into the carpet and spreading out in every direction. Her body was fatigued and she was completely defeated, humiliated in front of her servants, everything she thought of herself as a Queen flowing out of her, dampening the bottom of her skirt. It just went on and on, a seemingly endless stream of hot piss that nearly reached Lucille and Mary who were standing several meters away. Despite the absorption of the carpet, the puddle reached the ledge of the second floor of the entrance hall and fell to the marble below. Charlotte could hear it splattering against stone even at this distance, and she knew there was absolutely no hiding such an accident. Even if she banished Lucille and Mary from the Capital, people would come into the hall at some point and see the mess coming from her wing of the castle. I'm going to have to run. Just shift to some other country and make a living as a cook. What if Iwan finds out about this? Oh, no! Not him! It was several minutes before her waterfall fell silent. Her puddle was almost ten feet in span and the only sound that could be heard was of her pee falling to the floor below. Her two servants still stood by, watching her in disbelief. She wished they would look away, but it made no difference now. Her body and mind fatigued, she looked at the two young girls. “So, what is going to happen now?” Charlotte asked them, a semblance of hurt and humiliation in her voice. “Are you going to run and tell everyone what I have done here? This is a good chance for you to have your vengeance for how poorly I’ve treated you all, isn’t it?” The two of them looked between Charlotte and her colossal puddle. They knew if the word of this got out, the Queen would have to face an embarrassment like no other. Mustering her voice, Mary spoke first. “It was me who did this. I lost control of my waters. Please, forgive me.” Charlotte sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time in what felt like days. “Oh, my sweet girl, that is so kind of you....,” she breathed. “However, nobody will believe that a tiny one like you could hold this much piss. I fear there is no possible way for me out of this.” “I couldn't hold it either,” Lucille said suddenly, “We were so occupied in preparing for your welcome since morning, that we didn’t get a chance to use the chamberpot. We beg for your pardon, Your Highness...,” At this very moment, Charlotte loved these girls like they were her own daughters. “You would take the blame for this, after how I have abused you over the years?” “We owe you everything we have, my Queen,” Lucille said, “We were born to serve you.” “I will never forget this,” Charlotte said, “You two will be rewarded with whatever you want for this.” “Please, my Queen,” Lucille said. “Just see yourself to your chamber to wash.” Charlotte nodded, her heart full of gratitude, before she rushed towards her chamber. The End
  19. I found this pretty image while searching Gelbooru. It's named with both the original japanese name, and its translation. I think it's pretty obvious. Plus, I tagged it with the artist's name and put it under "tagme", so people with better imagination could tag it.

    © http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=46862505

  20. "This ship is a mess. How am I supposed to fix this?" Roll Caskett looked over the engine, or what remained of it, to their Flutter airship. It was a wonder it had made it this long before breaking down, but it still died at a bad time, forcing a crash land on Kattelox Island. They were stranded for the foreseeable future, she had the ability to repair the ship, but without the parts, it didn't mean much. With Grandpa Barrel busy doing his own thing in town, she was alone on this job. And it wasn't just the engine refractor out of order, the impact of landing shook up and broke apart more of the delicate workings of the Flutter. Things like the electrical wiring were easy to repair, but something more complex like, say, the plumbing would take a lot more effort, and Roll hadn't gotten around to that yet, not when she was busy doing things like getting this ship to fly or building weapons, things with an immediate benefit to others. Though, she was wishing she had the free time to get on that project, because she could really use it. All this time without a working bathroom had left the blonde technician wanting, she needed some relief. Her desperation wasn't that bad right now, but that more-than-dull ache still wanted attention, and it was distracting her from the patchwork repair job. Perhaps helping herself to the soda in the fridge wasn't the best idea. The idea had certainly occurred to take the support car into town and find a bathroom in one short trip, but that seemed like a weird thing to do. She had only gone in on foot once, in a hurry to find Gramps, so it barely even counted. It'd be kinda strange to introduce herself to the citizens, when they had some idea of her already, in the same sentence asking to use the little girl's room. "Maybe I should just run outside for a minute..." The Flutter landed in Cardon Forest outside the island's city, she might be able to get away with doing her business out there. But she was apprehensive about the idea as well, the forest was actually a lot of empty plains with very few trees or anything else for cover, and she'd always seen someone wandering out. If she went through with it, there was a very real chance she'd be caught. Still, Roll put it under consideration. While she might be caught, it was a slim possibility if she was smart. The most important thing was ensuring she was alone, and she couldn't do that from the engine room. Working, she usually kept her jacket off to stay cool, so she grabbed the red clothing off the floor. Not that she was topless without it, she didn't care if someone close saw, but the black undershirt wasn't the best at covering sensitive parts, so it wouldn't be enough for anything outside the hull of the Flutter. Fully dressed, Roll climbed the ladder out of the engine room to the living quarters, where she could access the outer door. "Data! I'm going out for a little," she called to their tiny robot monkey companion as she opened the exit hatch. Leaning on the deck railings, she looked out over the surrounding area. Small hills as tall as the airship blocked some of the paths from view, but from here to the outer walls of the city, the coast was clear. Taking the good sign, Roll smiled and slid down the long ladder that led to the ground. The first plan was to use the large body of the Flutter as a wall, no way she'd be spotted that way unless the intruder got really close, but a closer look revealed it wouldn't work that well. Sliding through the earth from the emergency descent had scraped away some of the plating from the bottom hull, most of the innards at the dirt line were exposed. It was a minor problem for a non-seacraft in normal operation, but if she were to stay close enough for appropriate shielding, there was the chance of liquids leaking in, and that might screw with something. Out here, the choices for what would become her makeshift toilet were limited, but she still found a lone tree outside the thick tree line suitable enough for her needs. It wasn't much, but the trunk was probably thick enough that she'd be covered enough should someone wander over. Maybe was good enough for now, and Roll ran over to the plant, placing it between herself and the route from town. "This is good enough," she decided, undoing the belt holding her shorts up. Still, she kept them up after gravity would have been able to take them. While she was never against the idea, she had just never had a reason to empty herself like this. Between the limited time they spent on islands, her jobs involving staying close to the Flutter or maybe quickly going into town for parts, and the usual working order of the vessel, she always had easy access to a real bathroom. She just never had reason to experiment or learn. "Eh," she shrugged, "wouldn't be the first time I tried something new on the fly." That was all the convincing she'd need, it was time to pull her pants down. The red shorts dropped to her boots as soon as she let go of the waist, but she was still far from done. Below those were a pair of black spandex shorts, same as her undershirt, and panties below those. She would have grabbed them both at once to slip them off, but her fingers were not very precise beneath her work gloves, she only managed the second pair of shorts on the first pass. Just some white underwear stood between her and relief now. "Roll? Roll, do you copy?" Despite hearing her name, Roll didn't panic yet, the voice was distorted and static, the person wasn't in the area. It was the walkie talkie in her pocket, which meant the only person it could be on the other end was Roll's adoptive brother, her best friend, the Digger to her Spotter, MegaMan Volnutt. He was off on a grand adventure, excavating ancient ruins, fighting pirates, becoming a local hero, but he always made sure to call his mechanic should he need some new weapons built. After all, his good deeds scored them the support car, and that had proven handy thus far. Even if it was voice only, Roll didn't want to talk to MegaMan half-naked, and she pulled her clothes back up her legs, though not reclasping her belt quite yet. "What is it, MegaMan?" "Are you busy right now?" Roll had to think about how to answer that. She wasn't working, but she was in the middle of something. "Not at the moment, no." Well, if she took an extra minute bringing the car around, no one would know, no reason to arouse suspicion. "Can you come to the boathouse in Uptown? I've got a new project for you." That was an appealing proposition, if he was building suspense, it was probably a big task. Exactly the kind of challenge Roll loved. "I'm on my way." She fastened her belt and ran to the car, swinging the driver's side door open and jumping into the seat. Data jumped in after her despite no one telling him anything, and they drove towards the city. She had neglected to actually pee, probably a dumb move, but she wasn't worried. She didn't have to go that bad, and this wouldn't take long. She could do whatever when she got back. Kattelox Island was small, it only took a few minutes to reach the destination, parking on the summit of Uptown's hill, right outside the boathouse's entrance. She grabbed her toolbox from the passenger seat and took it through the door right before her, excited to see what was in store, and found MegaMan on the pier on the other side of the fence, waving for her. She gave a quick wave back and ran through the building to loop around. "What did you call me over for?" "There's a Gate on an island out there, all the boats are missing except this one, and it's broken. Do you think that yellow refractor we found will be enough?" It was clear why MegaMan wasn't the mechanic if that was the best answer he could come up with. "If the refractor is the only issue, that yellow one would be enough to do the trick. I'll take a look inside." She climbed inside and began to poke around, expecting to find a lot broken like the Flutter, but this seemed almost pristine in comparison. "It looks like it's just the refractor couplings not working, and that's an easy fix. I'll get on it right away!" As MegaMan continued to hand tools down the hatch and Roll made frequent adjustments, it was easy to get absorbed in the work. Roll was almost completely lost in this boat's parts, but even this wasn't enough to make her forget her bladder's troubles. Feeling the room around her bob in the lake, that sound of water crashing against the walls surrounding her, they were doing wonders at shooting her desperation way up. It went from kinda annoying to urgent in minutes, she was rapidly tapping her foot to cope. "Really gotta go, really gotta go," she muttered, putting the finishing touches on the engine, slipping the refractor into place. The highest priority now was finding a bathroom, before it got to be too much to hold, a level it really might hit soon enough at this rate. But it wouldn't be long, she just had to climb out and ask the boat owner to use their toilet. She fixed their only boat, it was the least they could do to repay her. "MegaMan, I'm finished," she announced as she met the sun's light again. She was planning to meet with the owner, but she wasn't expecting him to be waiting for her right outside. And he was intimidating, Roll's breathing halted as soon as she saw his face. He was grizzled, missing an eye, wild gray hair, she could see him being a villain in some comic or whatever. Without any prompting, she felt she had to apologize. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I see a broken machine, I feel the need to fix it." She wasn't shaking anymore, like showing any kind of physical weakness would prompt an attack. The man contemplated in silence, and Roll almost wet herself from fear and other things. "Well, then I'm lucky to have such a cute girl fixing my boats," he finally answered, a voice as deep as expected, but not the tone. Roll wasn't scared anymore, but she was uncomfortable for a different reason now. "Well, then I'll let you use that boat anytime you want." He left to go back to work, and the kids were alone with their new prize. MegaMan wasn't unsettled in the slightest, with his usual optimistic attitude unwavering. "C'mon Roll, let's get to that Sub-Gate!" He picked up Data from the dock and tossed him into the control seat. She had given up on the idea of asking about a boathouse bathroom, but she was still fully planning on finding another one now. It was bad enough to go on a dig, she couldn't handle being out on the lake. It would have been so easy to just tell him that she needed a pit stop, but her excuse for why she hasn't yet was so flimsy, it was kind of embarrassing to admit she had just procrastinated. "Okay, MegaMan! Hop on and we'll be there in no time!" She'd regret it, she was already nervous, but she'd be a good partner regardless. Her repair work was solid, so the boat's voyage began smoothly, but it didn't last. The sonar on the control panel started lighting up and beeping with dots all around them. "Uh, MegaMan? Do you see anything outside?" "Yeah, those pirates are back! You keep driving, I'll take care of them!" His Buster started firing off, hitting the attacking submarines and airships. Now they couldn't dock, they had to continue moving until things calmed down, because everything had to waste Roll's time when she had little to spare. MegaMan was doing his best to shoot down the pirates, along with intercepting their missiles and torpedoes, but some machine gun fire and explosives found their way through the defense. Not enough to seriously damage the vehicle, but it was shaking the cockpit, sending shudders through the pilot. It was agonizing, and it kept on happening. It felt like an eternity, and the boat was half-destroyed, but the assault finally ended. Even though she hadn't been the one in combat, Roll was panting and sweating, she had to wipe her forehead with the back of her glove. She was still tense from her holding, but she relaxed a little at the peace. Until the sonar began beeping again soon after, a signal bigger than anything prior combined. Apparently, while she was looking at the data, MegaMan just started shooting at it without any thought, because he reported in before long. "I don't think I'm damaging it, Roll!" Clearly, whatever contraption the pirates had cooked up, it was dangerous. Their track record against the pirates was good so far, but was this the one that would change the tides? It would be a battle for both MegaMan and Roll, and she wasn't so sure she could hold up her end. She was already rubbing her thighs together, afraid she'd no longer stay dry if she stopped, it was no wonder she was scared. "I'm not so sure about this one, MegaMan. I think we should retreat." After all, the robot was confined to the water, it wouldn't go anywhere if they escaped, only long enough to pee. She begged her brother to agree. "No! We're not running away!" The Digger was steadfast, gung-ho, and confident, totally unlike how his Spotter was acting. That was humiliating, being left in the dust like that, it made her look weak in comparison. She was the one in control, she could disobey her brother and return to shore, but that was just wrong when he was fired up. He'd probably forgive her even without knowing the reason why, but she'd be weighed down by guilt. It would be a minor mistake next to some of the other times she'd steered him wrong, but the blame could only be placed on her this time. She might not be happy, but she wasn't backing down. "Okay, I'll try and find some way to outmaneuver them. We might be able to find a weak spot then." A small tributary leading off Lake Jyun, just wide enough for both to enter, was the best solution. For now, that left their ship only able to hit the invincible front of the pirate's machine, but it led into a small pond that allowed them to circle the large machine. MegaMan wasted no time shooting out their weapons now that he had them in sight, forcing the pirates to pull out the big guns, and the generator to power it. That was enough to guarantee their defeat, their assault sunk. It wasn't a long battle, but the emergency edging closer meant every second counted, and Roll was panicked by the end of it. She was close to hitting that limit, far from the town that could bring her relief. And now they had made it to the Sub-Gate, there was no chance she could convince MegaMan to turn back. He'd already run in, so she'd have to stay. She'd have to...hold it more. She groaned at the thought, forcing her butt as far down in the seat as it could go to provide some physical resistance. Without any place to drain her coolant, she needed some way to steel herself. Dwelling on her bladder would only bring her to burst faster, she needed something else to put all her attention in. Like all the extra machinery built into this boat, stuff she was familiar with. "This is all Spotter equipment. Did the owner used to be a Spotter?" That was an interesting development, and now she had something to do instead of just torturing herself, waiting in silence. In fact, she got so into her duties, her strife became...bearable, to put it charitably. Her thighs were crossed tightly, her left hand was crushed between them, and she was biting her bottom lip whenever she didn't need to provide instruction. Didn't bother her that Data could see, he couldn't tell anyone. But as five minutes in the ruins turned into ten, into fifteen, into twenty, Roll was starting to accept MegaMan would be a while. His signal was still moving, he wasn't in danger, just exploring thoroughly without need of assistance, probably finding the starter keys without much trouble. Good attitude and skill for a Digger, but an awful time to keep a girl waiting and without distraction. "I need you to hurry up, MegaMan," she growled, "I can't hold out much longer." Her bladder was burning, stinging, cramping, and stretched out, in what was without a doubt the worst she had ever needed to pee in her life. She was really trying to delay the inevitable, but it couldn't be put off forever and her gate door finally opened just a crack, and she leaked into her panties. It wasn't much, but it meant that her legs would soon be covered by endless water unless something was done now. There was nothing for her in here, so as painful as it was, she climbed out of the boat and jumped to the island. It didn't leave her unscathed, the exertion loosened her grip to really wet her underwear until her first layer of shorts were feeling it. She had to hunch over with both hands clutching her crotch just to maintain equilibrium, her face growing redder and hotter until she finally overcame the wave of desperation, more like a tsunami. "Gotta...pee..." Her words were strained like she was suffocating, her eyes shut so tightly to help with holding, it forced tears out. Being out in the open air, without metal to deflect the sound of crashing waves, was plenty to shatter the little resistance Roll still had. She was alone, far from civilization, it was time to add some volume to the lake. She was frantically unclipping her belt and tearing down her shorts, take two on her bathroom break. Just before her shorts could be dropped enough to show how yellowed her underwear now was, the Sub-Gate started whirring before she could start whizzing. Experience around these portals had taught Roll what that sound meant: the main elevator either ascending or descending. And process of elimination led her to one conclusion. "Great, now he comes back!" She considered going through with it anyway, letting MegaMan get a lot more of a view than she would allow otherwise. It took until the door slowly opened before she decided against it, hurrying to redress before anyone could question what she was doing. She pivoted to meet MegaMan's eyes as he emerged, consciously trying too look casual as she begged her body not to have an accident now. "MegaMan, you're back! What did you fi-" Trying to hard to look right at him, Roll missed the giant red refractor he was carrying out. "Woah, that's huge! We could fix the Flutter with that thing!" "Yeah, that's what I was thinking! Let's get going!" The Digger ran towards the boat, but stopped just as he passed his sister. She gulped, was she being too obvious about acting normal? Was her secret out? "Took me this long to realize it, that's what was bothering me! You forgot your hat!" Smiling without a care, he jumped onto the deck of the boat for the ride. Surprised, Roll patted the top of her head, feeling hair instead of the cap she always wore. In her haste and haze back at the Flutter, she had missed that piece of her wardrobe. "I'm a total mess," she whispered, wasting no time running back to the pilot's seat. She was still basically at her bodily limit, but it couldn't take that long to get back to the Flutter, where that tree was looking as good as any toilet. She just needed to reach the support car in one piece, the boat ride back didn't take too long, and she somehow managed to not look like she was bursting until she reached the van. She could now say, with experience, it was harder to drive a car desperate than to fly an airship. Yes, she had one less dimension of movement to be concerned about, but there were very few obstacles in the sky. Her driving now was shaky, a lot of sharp turns and overcorrections, stepping on the gas or full stop without any speeds in between. It was bumpier than her driving in a battle zone, each jolt spurting out more urine, but it'd be worth it if she could make it back without entirely wetting herself. They were at the main walls, just needed to pass the Apple Market, and they'd be in Cardon Forest. It was so close, and a knock came from the back compartment, scaring Roll enough to make her jump, and of course leak even further. "Can you stop here, Roll," MegaMan asked, "I need to visit the junk store." Roll almost yelled at her brother, to demand he wait and go shopping on his own time, but she didn't have the energy to resist anymore. She just pulled to a stop and let him jump out the back while she took her hands off the wheel to hold. By this point, she could feel the wetness on her shorts, what was the point of waiting when she was already half-soaked? He couldn't say anything, but Data was looking at her from the passenger seat, sorry for her, or maybe pitying her. "I have to go right now," she finally admitted, leaping out with a plan to do her business right outside the door. She noticed there were people walking and cars driving by, she just couldn't afford to wait. She was close to stripping there with no sense of modesty, she would have done it if she had no choice, but an idea flashed through her mind, one thing she could do for cover. She dashed into the back compartment of the support car, the only place she could feasibly reach where she'd be alone. She made it into the trunk, now what? She'd gladly pee herself here, but all that delicate electronic equipment for Spotters and weapon upgrades, she didn't want to get any of that wet, it could be destroyed beyond repair and MegaMan would be on his own in the ruins and against the pirates. "Maybe I can g-go towards the back, let it leak out beneath the doors." Not open them so everyone could see, but let it seep through the narrow openings. It'd work, she was more than happy to go through with it. She almost did, when she noticed something laying on the floor that usually wasn't there. "MegaMan must have dropped his energy canteen," she complained, though trailing off at the end. It was such a good solution, it didn't take her long to pick it up and shake it around to check the contents. "Empty. Perfect!" It may have been an overexaggeration, it wasn't that big a container with a small opening, but it was something, anything was acceptable right now. For the third time, she unlatched her belt, almost ripping it apart before throwing her shorts down, all three parts in rapid succession, each one more drenched than the last. Much like handling herself outside, Roll had also never used a bottle or anything similar substituting for a toilet. But she was feeling particularly experimental, probably because she had no choice, no qualms about putting the canteen mouth right up against her dripping privates. And, despite the constant near-accidents up to now, she couldn't force her bladder to let anything out. It hurt so much, she couldn't bear it, but she couldn't get rid of it either. "Come on...come on! I have to pee already! Just go," she cried, pleading to lose control. Entirely too long later, her bladder finally broke, a loud, golden, hissing pee pouring out, in the general direction of the canteen, but even that was being generous. It wasn't aimed in the right spot to begin with, it wasn't anywhere close to steady, and of course, the thickness was more than the container could take. But at least some of it was getting in, Roll felt it get heavier while her gloves got covered with everything else. At least they were a water resistant material, but it still loosened her grip on the smooth bottle surface. Somehow, the small percentage of pee making it in was enough to fill the flask, Roll had to wonder how much use MegaMan could get out of it with so little capacity. Warm yellow urine gushed out of the small hole, backing up onto her gloves and down her legs, further dampening her shorts. Maybe it would have been better to fully remove them, if she had the time, as if the damage on her clothes could get worse. Even being a mechanic frequently covered in other fluids, Roll would normally be at least a little grossed out by this, but frankly, she couldn't bring herself to care. This didn't feel amazing, it was kind of painful in fact, but it was also the culmination of pushing herself. Granted, not a safe thing to do, pushing the Flutter like that destroyed its power source, but risks like that happened. She didn't think she had done anything wrong in pushing her needs off, she could have certainly done better, but all this was just bad luck. Miraculously, the torrent of pee finally eased up. It still took a long time to wind down from that, but at some point, it was over. Roll took one last gasp for breath and looked over the damage she caused, amazed by what she could do. Besides the canteen full to the brim, there was a puddle on the floor so massive it was dripping out between the rear doors, kind of like the original plan but much slower. And, being gathered at her feet, of course it was soaking into the clothes bunched on her boots. "Probably would have ended up drier just wetting myself." Still, not like she had anything else to wear, so she pulled her panties and shorts back up and looked for a rag or something to sit on. This whole ordeal was bad luck, she should have expected it wasn't over yet. Bent over away from the door, she only heard the hinges creak as the metal barriers opened to the outside. "Hey Roll, I think something's leaking in here, you got any ide-" MegaMan's query stopped abruptly as he saw the focal point of the car's workshop. His sister, his Spotter, with her shorts (her butt, most prominently) absolutely drenched like she had fallen in the lake. She was too afraid to look, but Roll had an idea what kind of facial expression her actions had produced: total shock, some amount of disgust, and all confusion. Roll's face, meanwhile, was as red as that refractor they just recovered, and scared. "What are you doing?! G-get out!" He hadn't really invaded her privacy, but MegaMan still obeyed and slammed the doors shut. Taking a few seconds to recover from that outburst, Roll looked over her mess again and groaned. At least she did spot a towel hanging on a rack behind some machinery, she could wrap that around her waist to cover herself somewhat, not that it mattered anymore. Without caring about stepping in the pool, she trudged out of the car to her Digger. "Sorry about that, MegaMan. I'm not mad, it's fine." "You calmed down fast." "Yeah, you know me, I don't hold grudges." "Well, it's fine from me too. I won't blame you for...whatever happened. You need help cleaning up?" "N-no, I couldn't ask you to do that! It's all my fault, I'll take care of it on my own. You've got your own missions, right?" "I guess so. Well, we should at least go back to the lake or something first, right? Get some water for cleaning?" Roll looked back at the huge puddle again. She would need some way to wash that out, along with her clothes, and without any water on the Flutter. "Yeah, that's a good idea. It's going to take a while, you should probably just go back to your own thing." MegaMan stepped back, and hesitated. "I need to stop by the Flutter too. A-actually, I'll just go back there now, drop off the refractor." Only now did Roll notice MegaMan was carrying something, a bag from one of the stores in the Apple Market. "You bought something?" She couldn't see what it was through the plastic, but the silhouette from the sun at least revealed its shape. "A magazine?" Looked like she was on track, because he held it as far away from her as he could, staring right at her with a serious, scared face. "I won't tell Gramps about what you did, you forget about this." No idea what kind of purchase it could be that would get him so worked up, but if he was so adamant about keeping it from her, she'd respect it. "Deal. Alright, you just keep doing your thing, I'll take care of this." She giggled a little, MegaMan laughed nervously, and ran off. Roll may have come to terms with what she had done, but she didn't need the reminder, as she shut the rear car doors without looking inside again, and was eager to get out of here and remove the evidence. The faster she could forget about all this, the sooner she could get back to work. Clean up at the lake, get a change of clothes at the Flutter, and definitely look around the stores for some pipes. "I need to fix the plumbing right now."
  21. Just find a video where girl wets her white panties standing in the bathtub while friend of her's is filming her. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph59203fc692d67
  22. female

    I have a thing for duct taping myself up, and when I was playing with my duct tape a week or so ago, I had to pee VERY badly, so I decided to record the result of holding for a couple hours whilst taped up. LINK: http://motherless.com/0E88497
  23. So I noticed there was an old thread for this but it said that it was dead and you couldn't post so I assumed you can't post in there anymore. So I started this new one up for people to talk in. Anyone know of any recent examples they saw on TV? Anyway talk away about whatever scenes you like.
  24. Version 1.0.0

    381 downloads

    Duct Tape Girl is peeing

    Free