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  1. A/N: This story will include sex/masturbation from BOTH SEXES!! At the top of each section I will include a warning if there is sex, and if it includes men in detail, and there will be ** next to the paragraph(s) that include it so it can be skipped if wanted. ALSO this is completely fictional and a fantasy! Please don’t do this to real hotels, speaking as someone who works in one, our housekeepers don’t want to clean up after this! I chew my lip as a nervous habit, and right now, it’s swollen. I signed up online, months ago, for a “special getaway” to a hotel in Florida that is hosting a VIP Event. I never thought I’d get chosen to attend, and once I saw that I was I immediately put down the deposit. It was a bit expensive, but that’s to be expected for an event of this nature. Heavy discretion, clean up, and set up. I close my suitcase full of sundresses, bathing suits, panties, and casual clothes and head to the airport. the plane ride was mostly uneventful, though by the end I was feeling a need to pee. Not urgent at all, as it was only a three hour plane ride, but a nice, comfortable urge. I pulled my skirt down a bit as I stood and adjusted my white blouse, exiting the plane. As I waited for my luggage, I squeezed my legs together as my Arousal rose higher. I was finally going to get to indulge in my “interests” with other people, and maybe find someone I can share it with forever. How many people would attend? How much of the hotel can we use? My brain spun as I thought of all Possibilities, and between my legs got more and more wet by the second. the hotel was a forty five minute drive from the airport, and as I waited for my Uber my need got slightly more dire. I bounced my leg as I waited on the bench, enjoying the warm Florida air. I sipped on my Dr. pepper as I sat, hoping it would add to my urge. Soon enough, my Uber arrived and I entered, greeting the driver and turning my attention to my phone. Part of the instructions were to let the hosts know we were driving there, so I let them know I was about 45 minutes out. “What brings you to Florida?” My driver smiled at me in the mirror, a handsome man probably mid twenties. He had dark hair that matched his eyes, and a beard that brought out his white smile. “I’m here for a special event with some.. friends.” Hopefully, we’d be friends by the end. If not more. He nodded and smiled again, as you do in a customer service position. “Well, I hope you have fun. I will also be staying at this hotel for a while. Just finishing up my shift first.” Our eyes met in the rear view mirror again as my clit gained a heartbeat. It had been so long since I last felt the touch of a man on me, and to have the buildup of whatever wet activities we wanted beforehand… ”What made you want to come?” He asked and I bit my lip. You. “Oh, god, everything.” I gushed, and felt this face heat up at how excitable I sounded. “I wanted to find people like me. And do it. Freely.” his smirk killed me, and I added him to a mental list of people I needed to get to know more intimately before the trip was over. “Me too. I wanted to be able to just. Go fucking wild, yknow?” **oh, I knew. I knew I wanted him, and I wanted to pee. Not in a toilet, but in his lap. I bit down on my lip and squeezed my thighs together again, both out of a rising desperation, and to her just any friction between my legs. I fantasized about my Uber driver, straddling him and having his hands all over me as we kissed. I’d grind myself into him, my pink tennis skirt falling just past my ass, pretty white panties with lace, feaux innocence. He’d suck on my neck and I’d moan, leaking into my panties barely enough to show a stain. Moving against each other, my legs unable to close, eventually I’d lose control and wet on his cock, my panties turning see through and his jeans darkening with my piss. I’d feel him harden underneath me even more as I wet us both, my skirt getting weighed down on the edges that my pee touched. When I finished, my warm pee having soaked us both, he’d slide my wet panties to the side and I’d ride him, his piss covered cock slamming into me. My wet skirt would slap against my ass as I bounced on him, releasing a little more as i always do minutes later onto us both. Eventually, he’d cum in me, creating another hot mess id love to have. I swallowed, hard, trying to compose myself to answer. “Yeah. I get it.” I wanted to talk to him more, but I also didn’t want to come off as too forward. I didn’t know how up front to be, or who would be okay with what, and as of right now, he’s still my uber driver. Hopefully later, he would be a hot fuck session, but for now I had to respect him and try to be professional. “so, are you open to sex with the people here?” well, if he’s going to start the conversations, it would be rude not to answer. “Yes, are you?” God, I wanted him to say yes. My bladder was full now, I’d have used the bathroom twenty minutes ago if these were normal circumstances. But, they most definitely were not. He nodded, eyeing me in the mirror. “I most definitely am. Hoping for it, actually.” I could have came right there, between the anxiety-arousal surrounding being so desperate so far from a toilet, the anticipation of the events at the hotel, and the idea of fucking someone, ANYONE who longed for this like I did. “How much farther?” I put a hand between my legs, pressing against my crotch. I did my best not to actively touch myself in this strangers car, but the bumps in the road and how horny and desperate i was made it difficult to deny the temptations. “I really have to pee.” ”oh honey that’s not even fair.” He half laughed at me, leaning back casually to drive with one hand. “I still have a few more hours before I get to see you do that, don’t tease me.” ”I can show you plenty later, I promise.” I couldn’t help but rub myself a little under my skirt. It did help a bit with the desperation, as well, which only worsened with each passing second. “But really, how close are we?” he glanced down at his phone gps. “Five minutes. Think you can hold it?” I laughed, which made me have to press down harder on my crotch. “Yes, I can, trust me. I’ve been much worse off before.” ”you can tell me about those times later, in my room.” He paused. “Your name is Abigail, correct? That’s who it said the Uber was for.” ”yes, and I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.” ”it’s alright. It’s Ethan, I’m sure you’ll be screaming it later, so it’s good to know.” The Uber stopped before the hotel as he finished those promising words, and I almost didn’t have the strength to stand. “Promise?” ”id never lie to a pretty woman.” and with that, I edited the Uber, and looked up at my accommodations for the next few weeks. A gorgeous glass building with green gardens, and a lovely overhang. I saw pools to either side, and knew there was a beach behind it. I entered the doors to a beautiful lobby as well, with marble floors and a waterfall in the center. Signs stating “Omorashi Festival” with pamphlets below were plentiful, along with “21+ signs. I approached the front desk where quickly, the young woman in a black dress asked for my name. “Abigail Evans. For the festival.” she smiled tightly as she typed into the computer. “Welcome, Miss Evans. May I see a ID please?” I danced slightly as I bent down into my luggage for my wallet, my need now urgent. I found my drivers license quickly and handed it to her, trying to be discreet about my need. Then I realized, I don’t have to be here. I shoved a hand between my legs, waiting for my license back. the girl looked at me, handing my my license and a small packet, along with a bigger one. “The small packet has keys and drink vouchers. The big packet is a consent form work rules, please fill it out and return it to me before participating. Would you like to know where the restrooms are?” I grinned as I looked into her eyes, shaking my head. “No, thank you. I won’t be needing them.” END OF CHAPTER ONE! I hope you all like the premise of this! Please let me know if you have any feedback/requests!!
  2. Disclaimer: this comment is to anchor my progress. More content to come here. Also... Warning: this is an ABDL story. Fetishes are bound to be visualized. If you don't like any of the fetishes shown here, please click off the story. The romance story "The Heartwarming Flood" is not known for its vanilla sex scenes, after all!
  3. Warning: This story is pretty graphic. If you didn't read the tags, well, let me clarify: Theory of a Wet Boy contains plenty of sexual content, especially fetishes. I'm also pretty sure it's not for those less than 18 years of age. If you're offended by one or more parts of this, I suggest clicking off the story. Anyway, let's get on with it, because it's not gonna read itself! Characters: Tracy, George Act 1: Locked In Narrative: "One day, after school, a young girl named Tracy and her shy male friend George walked the halls aimlessly. They were locked inside with no one else in the building. She was quite horny and wanted to toy with George for as long as possible." Tracy: "Wow... this place is huge! Not gonna lie, I'm kinda glad we're all alone here. I mean, who better to walk with than you, George?" George: "Heh heh. Yeah, I guess it's relaxing for me after all I've gone through before we first met here." (He sticks his hand under his pants, trying feebly to hide the fact that he seriously needed to go to the bathroom.) T: (She notices George's actions.) "George, why are you touching yourself? Is this turning you on? Do you want me to rub your wee-wee and make you feel better?" (She turns and notes the camera on ceiling.) "Well, it's gonna hafta wait until we get somewhere more... ideal. " G: (He blushes at Tracy's brash speech.) "Uhhh, what are you saying, Tracy? I'm n-not aroused b-b-b-by any means! I just-" T: " *sigh* Look, I know you're touching yourself, George. You should seriously stop it unless we're to get in trouble for jizzing in our pants." N: "George was shocked. How did his best friend know of his mortifying plight? How could she say such things? Was she all right in the head? Why did she assume the security cams were on at this time of day, with no one to monitor them? And for the love of God, since when did she become so nosy?! She always respected his privacy!" G: "T-t-t-t-that's not what's happening at all! I just have to pee really bad!" T: "OMG... you don't know the difference between pee and cum?" Both: "What?!" G: "Tracy, w-w-what are you talking about?! What do you think I'm touching myself for?!" T: "*sigh* *to herself* Some things never change... *to George* Listen to me. When I first became sensually aroused, it was weird and scary for me, too. The thing is, you need to realize when it happens and resist the urge to grope the nearest member of the opposite sex. Sensual arousement can happen to anyone. *deep breath* I'll let you in on a little secret, George. I still get aroused from time to time, and I always know where to alleviate the feeling." G: "I already told you, I'm not aroused!" T: "Oh, is that so, George? Then I'll have to ask you a question. Please answer it calmly so I can affirm the feels you have at the moment." G: "*deep breathing* Okay. What's the question?" T: "...Are you trying to hide a bulge down there?" G: (He shakes his head.) T: "Is your penis hard and extending like a lightsaber?" G: (Again, he shakes his head.) "No... mmmmmmfffffmmmmm!" (He jumps up and down in desperation.) T: " Ohhhhh. I see now. You were telling the truth. Well, now that you say that, I kinda hafta pee, too... but not so bad I'd hop like a bunny to convey it." (She considers her options: "If I make him pee here, he'll just cry like a big baby over it. And the school's doors are locked up tight, so I can't access the school's plants and trees. Welp, I guess there's only one way to make him open his floodgates and not cry...") "I honestly don't know where the nearest bathroom is, but I'll try to navigate us there as fast as possible. So come on, George! Pretend that you're a rabbit and hop-follow me!" G: "O-o-o-o-o-okay, T-tracy. Lead the way! And hurry!" T: "Oh! I almost forgot about something!" G: "W-w-w-what might that b-b-b-be?" T: "It's a homemade treatment for men's desperation! This is guaranteed to work, no matter what! Just one thing, though: what do you want to feast your eyes on? Upstairs where a pervert's eyes dart to? Or downstairs where the holes are?" G: "Uh... I... don't really care..." T: " Okay. I'll take off my downstairs clothing... and yours, too. Is that okay?" G: "No... just take off y-y-your pants." T: (She takes off her socks and shoes and opens her backpack to put clothes in it. She begins unbuttoning her shorts and unzipping her fly.) "Heeeeeere goes! I hope you like whatcha see! " (And just like magic, her shorts fall down to reveal a naked vulva with sparse pubic hair.) G: (He now has an erection.) "SHEEEEEEEEESH, Tracy! That's hot!" T: (She laughs in an embarrassed yet playful manner upon seeing George's bulge. Her now-exposed vulva is seeping with love syrup.) "I knew you'd get hard seeing my peach fuzz! And now you should feel less desperate, right?!" G: "Mm hmm." T: "Great!" (She turns around, then puts her shorts, socks, and shoes into her backpack, bending over so George can see more of her butt.) G: "Whoa! You sure this is what you had in mind?" T: "Yup! Now come on, before you get flaccid and desperate again!" Act 2: Out of Order, Into Chaos N: "The two made a mad dash down the hall. After a few moments, they finally arrived at the bathrooms." G: "*to himself* Okay... calm down, George. This is it." T: "And here we are! The public restrooms! *sniffs the scent of pee* This smells ironically amazing!" G: "Tracy! This is not the time for gross observations! The men's room is dirtier than my room at home! So, can we please use the ladies' room and try not to stink up the place?" T: "Hmmmm... let me check the door to the ladies' room..." (She looks at the door. "Out of order, huh? I wonder how George would react to this... ") "George, I don't know how to say it, but the ladies' room is... well... put bluntly, it's out of order." G: "We can't use the girls' room?! What are they doing in there?!" T: " I dunno. There's no one else here, so maybe they saved it for tomorrow." G: "So?! Let me see!" (He charges into the door, only to bruise his shoulder and lose his erection.) "It's locked!" T: "(She notices that George's penis went limp.) Oh. No. *to herself* You've got to be... fingering me in the bum... Anyway... *to George* Let's just go to the men's room, okay? I don't mind the smell there. And I could see your wee-wee if you got your pants off!" G: "Uhhhhhhhhh.......uhhhhhh!" (He's doubled over right now.) T: "OH MY GOSH! Just try to hold it in a bit longer, okay?! The urinals are just through this door!" (She notices... a padlock, right then and there!) "*Gasp* This one's locked too! Hang on, George! I've got a lockpick!" *lock-picking noises* N: "After two minutes of trial and error, Tracy picked the lock. The door squeaked open. And George could finally relieve his pulsating bladder!" T: "George! Get up! We're almost there!" (She starts squirming as well.) "GRAB MY HAND, GEORGE!" (She pulls George up, not noticing the leak on his pants.) G: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" (He leaks a bit more. He shuffles his feet, inch by inch, and leaks more, drop by drop. Eventually, his urine formed a trail marking his path.) "I... can't hold it in! Uhhhhhh! Uwaaaaa!" T: (She smiles and starts dancing the Macarena with her legs crossed in a humorous attempt to hold in her urine.) "Speak for yourself, pretty boy! I'm just starting to make my own little puddle of pee after thinking about the weather near my house! It's pouring freezing rain and hail! Uhhh! With high windchills and wind speeds up to 69 MPH, it must feel like 253.15 Kelvin! Agh! And there's thunderstorms raging across the city!" G: "I don't care about what's going on outside OR your scientific descriptions! ALL. I. WANT. IS. TO. PEEEEEE!" T: "Well calm down there, you worrywuss of a buddy! 'Cuz there's one thing that's not going to happen..." (She stops dancing the Macarena and uncrosses her legs.) "I'm not going to pee in the urinals..." G: "...You're not...?" T: (She gets her shorts and socks back from her backpack onto her butt and feet, then buttons up her shorts and zips her fly.) "Because I'm too lazy to do so." G: "...You're just gonna give up?! ... No. I won't stand for this. We're at the goal!" (He pulls down his pants, revealing his boxers briefs.) T: (She closes her eyes.) "That's not what I meant, George..." G: "I'm going to pee in the urinals, whether you like it or not!" (He pulls down his boxer briefs. Beneath them, his slightly-smaller-than-average penis shows on top of two freshly shaved testicles.) T: (She looks down, opens her eyes, and notices George's pants are off.) "Wait a minute... did you just strip down?!" (She moves in a bit closer to George's exposed penis.) " Awwwww! That's an immaculately cute wee-wee you got there, George! And look at that nutsack! It's so small, nearly devoid of semen!" (She removes her shirt, and two breasts emerge, each tattooed with a sun a la this.) "Well, time to break the seals on these two sinners! " (she pulls off George's pants and boxer briefs, gets them with her shirt, and puts the combined load of laundry on a pile between her legs.) " *sing-song voice* Heeeeeere it coooooooomes!" And then... ... T: (She turns George to face towards her and playfully pushes him down.) G: "UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! Ow..." *pssssssssssshhhhhhhhhh* The duo's bladders empty. George's stream is slow and lands on himself, and Tracy embraced the warmth of hers as she hyper-wets her shorts above the other clothes. Both: "Haaaaaaa... sweet relief is ours this day... " T: (She moves herself to position George's groin between her legs after satisfied with the state of their drenched clothes. Now the two are peeing on each other's crotch!) "Sorry for pushing you, George. Are you okay?" G: "I couldn't be feeling better right now... Thanks, Tracy... " T: "Hee hee hee hee hee! It is none other than my pleasure to help you out, George. You're such a cute lil' devil... especially when peeing!" Both: (They laugh heartily as their pee streams alternatively collide and hit the other's genitalia.) G: "Haaaaaaaaaaaa... haaaaaaa... haaaaaa... haaaa. " T: "Oh my! I'm getting incredibly turned on by this! ... Hey, since we're in the bathroom, where the cameras can't catch us in the act, why don't we just go ahead and have sex?! I mean, we're not done peeing and all, but..." (She pulls down her pants, exposing her vulva and freeing her pee stream while at the same time stopping George's stream from getting past said pants. Then, she gets one pant leg off and puts her pants to the side, which exposes both her and George's genitalia to the other's pee stream!) G: "Ohhh... " T: "What a wholesome way for a kitty like mine to greet a chicken like yours!" Gradual black out as they laugh heartily. N: "Then, they laughed... and they [redacted] all night... for this night was the start of their new lives, which they both lived... uh... happily ever after. ... Sorry for the clichéd ending. I just wanted to say all that in front of an audience." *cue laughter and applause.*
  4. This is a story about a tomboy who loves pee and desperation. Her name is Tracy Prancer. She is a very friendly and kind exhibitionist who is very talented in gymnastics. Her closest friend happens to be a shy boy named George Lee. The two met each other in middle school, and they've been on good terms throughout high school. However, another girl seems to have a crush on George: a would-be bully known as Valentine Hailey. In the school's art club, she was notorious for giving perverts her signature glitter torture, where she would expose their bare bottoms, sprinkle glitter on them, and spank them. So, Hailey takes the initiative with George, and Tracy notices the commotion between the two. So, she gets wet and intervenes. Then things get interesting. Stay tuned.
  5. Hey everyone! So, this is a fascinating series to me. Started as a commission for one of our members, with the third part then commissioned by another, each installment feels very different and offers something unique. I hope you all enjoy and if you wish to commission something for yourself, just drop me a message. PART I: THE DESPERATE DIAPERLESS SCHOOLGIRL Allison Clofield seemed by most standards to be a normal, sixteen-year-old girl. She had her clique at high school: A best friend named Emily, a crush named Max who she wished would notice she existed and hated most of her schoolwork; like everyone else. She was black haired and green eyed, with long straight hair that ran down to her shoulders. She had 38C breasts that bulged tightly against a collection of red polka dot bras she owned and usually wore long summer dresses to her school; especially on hot summer days like these. A few boys paid her some attention, however her one claim to fame was breaking the hand of a boy who’d tried to lift her dress up during 9th grade. She’d been sent to the principal’s office, however had gotten away with only a few limited detentions for the next month; leading some to accuse her of being a teacher’s pet. In truth, the principal had understood the severity of her response upon reading her file. Had the boy seen under her dress, it would have caused the girl massive social humiliation for months on end. For Allison Clofield; a sixteen-year-old and otherwise perfectly normal girl, had to come to school every day wearing diapers. It had been the case for her every day since she was ten years old. She had been out horse-riding with her family; a rare treat to a ranch in Arizona, when a skittish horse had reared at a car back-firing, leading to her being thrown from her horse. The fall had damaged her bladder muscles; though thankfully not her bowels, something she was eternally grateful for as that would have been near-impossible to keep secret. It had led to her being humiliated at a sleepover with her best friend Emily several weeks later, when sometime around 3:00AM in the morning, she had humiliatingly wet herself in a sleeping bag; waking up several minutes later in sopping wet pink pyjamas and a large puddle of her own making. Since then, she had worn diapers to schools, sleepovers and any major social gathering that wasn’t her immediate family. While Allison did not enjoy having to wear them, over the months and years since her accident; she had become used to it and a master of both hiding her problems, as well as slowly beginning to regain some control. On rare occasions, she could make it through an entire school day without wetting herself in the purple pampers her family discretely placed on her shelf; in a hidden corner where her friends would not easily see them when coming around. On these days, she usually returned home bursting, squirming and making a mad dash for the bathroom, leaking but ultimately, releasing most in the bathroom. These days she considered blessed, though they were few and far between and hadn’t happened for months. It was the hottest summer on record in Arizona and as such, she; along with everyone else, carried around water bottles constantly. Unlike most, she couldn’t rush off to the toilets as if people heard the crinkling sound of the diapers while she was getting changed; her secret would be quickly exposed. Along with that, boys occasionally kicked open the weakly locked doors to annoy the girls and while hardly enjoyable for anyone, it would be absolutely mortifying for her to be caught half-naked, with her diaper around her ankles, applying talcum powder and cleaning herself. As such, Allison had made her peace with wetting her diaper regularly at school. At first, she would isolate herself; finding a hidden spot behind trees, the edges of her school field or buildings, however this she found just made her more nervous and her friends started asking where she was going. Eventually, she realised the best way to handle it was just to gently release whenever the need got too bad and even; after a while, to just carry on working, playing or talking and lose control as her weakened bladder muscles broke naturally. Despite her fears the first few times it happened; no one was ever the wiser, the ruckus noise of high-school more than drowning out the very quiet sounds of her losing control. Ironically; because she almost never visited the toilets, this had led to her gaining the reputation of having an iron-bladder, something she constantly found amusing. The first time she’d been told that, she had actually been mid-accident and her friends compliments had made her burst out laughing. Nevertheless, it was a useful lie to keep up and one that had served well in keeping her secrets. However, it is almost impossible to keep something hidden forever and today was going to put that to the test. Alisson woke to the sound of crashing wood; making her jerk up instantly. She looked and saw her bedroom shelf had collapsed, spilling books, mementos and her diapers over the floor. Worse still, it had knocked a 2-litre bottle of lemonade from her desk and the liquid was now seeping over and into her diapers; drenching them all. “Oh no, no, no!”. “Fuck!”. Her only remaining ones, she knew there were no further supplies in the house at the moment and the realisation made her blood run cold. She looked to check her alarm clock; hoping she might have enough time to get her mum to drive her to the general store and was sorely disappointed. 8:52. “Fucking hell!”. School started at 9:30 and the drive there was just under half an hour. They’d have no time to stop at the store; especially as she remembered her mum had a meeting at her work nearby at 9:35. FUCK. “Alisson, stop swearin- Oh my god! What happened?!”. Her mum; Sarah Clofield, stood in the doorframe of her room, shocked at the sight of the broken shelf. “My shelf broke and I’ve overslept and my supplies are ruined and I don’t know what to do, I can’t go to school, I can’t!”. Sarah momentarily was at a loss for words. Her daughter was extremely upset and she knew well of her problem. At the same time, she was rushed, tired; from planning a work-meeting half the night, as well as determined for Allison not to avoid school for anything but the most important of reasons. “Get dressed, quickly; you need to go to school”. “But-”. “No buts. I know it will be risky but you’ve held it before on days there, you can do it again. Now come on. Get dressed”. Her mom left the room before Alisson could argue, leaving her frustrated and scared. She quickly ran to use the toilet, trying to empty as much liquid from her bladder as she could. Then; quickly getting changed, she got into a white sun dress and her favourite pair of sandals. Underneath, she wore a pair of cotton white knickers; which pressed gently against the bush of her pubic hair. She squirmed awkwardly looking at herself in the mirror, feeling almost-naked without her protection. “Allison, come on!”. Not having any more time to think, she raced down the stairs. *THREE HOURS LATER* Allison sat nervously in double Math class, small beads of sweat being wiped away from her forehead; as she and her class cooked in the Arizona sun. “So far, so good” she thought. She had no great need to use the toilets yet and her first block of lessons was nearly over. Soon, it would be time for a break; where she would use them, just-in case. She could feel the slightest twinges in her bladder but they wouldn’t be beyond her control yet for a number of hours, she knew this from experience. As Math came to an end, she felt herself let-out a sigh of relief. She had control of her body and her need was easily manageable. She’d been freaking out this morning for nothing. Maybe she could talk to her mum and Doctor about coming to school without protection more often. As she and Emily exited the class, she turned to her friend: “Hey, will you come with me to the bathroom quick?”. “UGH but they’re halfway across the school and the cue’s gonna take ages!”. “What do you mean? There’s one around the hallway”. “Didn’t you hear? School’s tearing up all the plumbing, except in Fredrickson block. All toilets closed today except those”. “Oh”. “Why, you really need to go?”. “Nah, I can hold it I guess, just annoying to walk”. “You’re telling me!”. “OH FUCK” thought Allison. This was bad. This was really, really bad. The only toilets open today were half-a-dozen cubicles on the other side of school, for a high-school with over eight-hundred students. She knew the cues would be massive and if she leaked in them, everyone would know in seconds. She was going to have to hold it the entire day. FUCK. *TWO HOURS LATER* Allison was chewing through her pencil in English class, her legs gently tapping together rhythmically as she squirmed in her seat every few minutes. Her need to use the toilet had gradually increased for the last hour, until it was now a noticeable frustration to her and her work. Normally; at this point, she’d either begin to have an accident within the safety of her diaper or be on the verge of it but that was not an option here. She knew she was beginning to become desperate for relief, however she would not; could not allow herself to have an accident. She remembered the last time she’d wet herself openly, at her friend Emily’s house. She’d drank two-lemonades before falling asleep; something that pre-accident had been no problem to hold, yet her dream that night was horrible: Trapped inside a funfair mirror house they’d been to that day together; absolutely bursting for the toilet. She felt dizzy, sick and like a lead ball was in her stomach as she stumbled through the house; laugher all around her, as she clutched between her legs, pushing her hands deep within her blue frilly knickers to help her hold. She’d been incredibly embarrassed, as she could feel the laughter around her increase; yet nothing compared to the moment where; half a minute-later, though it could have been hours for her sleeping body, where with her knees halfway bent to the ground and her entire body shake, she had felt herself lose control violently. The wetness spread quickly over her red jeans, soaking her shaking fingers, knickers and covering her legs as a growing puddle formed around her. She watched dozens of versions of her simultaneously have the same accident, able to view her shame from every angle as she completely lost control like a four-year old instead, of the mature ten-year-old she knew she was at the time. She didn’t think it could get any worse, as tears began to roll down her face when suddenly; she woke up in a fright, sweating profusely. For a moment, she’d been immensely relieved; thanking whatever God there was it had all been a nightmare. Then, her heart sank as she realised she could still feel the wetness from her dream. Peeling back her sleeping back, she saw her pink heart pyjamas were absolutely sodden and she could feel the puddle her legs were lying in; as well as see the wetness that had stained the carpet and some of her nearby clothes. Moments later, Emily had woken up from her slumber; disturbed by Allison and saw her best friend crying quietly, sitting in a puddle and absolutely humiliated by what she’d done. She hadn’t even been able to speak to her best friend again for several weeks; until her family forced her to, from which point she had been determined to NEVER lose control like that again in-front of anyone. From that day on, she’d been resolute in never humiliating herself again and though she hadn’t been thrilled when her doctor and parents suggested diapers; she preferred anything to that absolute horror of losing control. Sitting there; desperate and vulnerable in class, she cursed her condition silently and the “Bloody fucking stupid horse” that had caused her bladder muscles to be so weak. She continued squirming quietly, her legs pressing together in growing need every few minutes; as Emily leaned over to her. “Hey Allison, are you okay? You’re fidgeting a lot”. “Oh, sorry!” said Allison; blushing bright red. “I-I’m just really bored, want to have lunch soon”. “Me too” said Emily, satisfied with Allison’s answer. “Oh my god she can see me fidgeting” thought Allison. She froze still, unwilling to attract attention to herself again but that made holding twice-as-hard. She could feel the pressure building in her stomach and looked desperately towards the clock. 32 minutes till lunch. She had to at least hold it till then. She wasn’t going to make it all day. Not even close. But if she could make it until break, she could go to one of secret spots in the trees and hopefully, have privacy to relieve herself there. That is, if she could even hold on that long. Every minute that ticked by was increasing her desperation exponentially. She could feel her legs shiver and vibrate but willed herself to sit as still as possible, too ashamed to attract attention. As subtly as she could, she let an arm fall into her lap; as if slumping from boredom, then dug her fingers through the fabric of her summer dress. The relief was amazing and she had to stop herself gasping from pleasure but she knew it was only a temporary measure and that when she had to walk again unaided, it was going to put incredible strain on her bladder. Ten minutes left. The pressure was beginning to return in force, even with her hand there to help her hold. Nine minutes. It was getting worse. Allison watched every second on the clock tick past. Eight minutes. The pressure was getting really bad. By this point, she knew she’d normally be wetting herself into her diaper. God, she wished she had one with her right now. The relief would be amazing and she could stop being scared of humiliating herself. Max was in the class with her and if she had an accident in front of him, she knew she would die of shame. Seven and a half minutes. She could feel her legs began to shake violently. “Oh god no!”. Suddenly, she felt a burst of pee spring out; soaking the front of white cotton panties for just over a second, before she clamped her legs together hard and stopped the flow. Allison’s face turned as red as a tomato and she looked towards everyone to see if they had noticed. Thankfully, her classmates were staring numbly towards their boring English spelling power-point. Never had she been more grateful for spelling, as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. She could feel the wet patch pushing against her trembling pussy, the piss soaking into the bush that surrounded it; which undoubtedly had played its part in saving her from leaking onto her chair. She could feel the pressure having eased slightly, enough for her to hold through till lunchtime but knew her situation was still urgent. Mercifully, the bell rang before her bladder worsened again. Quickly gathering her stuff, she wanted to bolt out the door but instead opted for a brisk walk; her legs tightly together, as the strain on her bladder was still bad. “Hey Allison, you want to grab lunch together? They’ve got milkshakes on sale today!”. Allison really did not need any further reminders of liquid, as she forced herself to turn around and smile. “I’ll catch up, see you in 10!”. She forced herself to quickly jog away before Emily could question her, the pain in her bladder nearly unbearable. Getting around the block, she saw there was nobody by this corner of the building and; pressing her back to the wall, shoved both hands in between her summer dress. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she cried out softly, holding with all her might as she could feel herself about to lose control completely. “Please no!” she begged, digging her fingers tightly into the fabric and slowly, her need lessened; though just barely. She knew she was seconds away from either relieving herself willingly or her body would do it for her. Stumbling quickly into the trees surrounding the school-playing field, she had to stop every few seconds to cross her legs or dance on the spot; her knees bending rhythmically, as she shook with desperation. God, her bladder felt like it was on fire; she thought. The closest she’d been to an accident like this since the sleepover was standing in a doctor’s office, having been asked to fill her bladder for a scan. She remembered how embarrassed she’d been, having to squirm on the spot in front of her mum and Doctor Lindsey; how she’d nearly lost control when the ointment was placed onto her belly to do the scan. She remembered dashing madly to the waiting room office, feeling like she’d narrowly avoided a major accident. Well, this was worse. Far worse. She could feel the overwhelming pressure on her bladder and knew in moments; her incontinence would overtake the little control she was able to exert. It was just a few more metres. A few more and she’d be covered on three sides by trees and would be able to see or hear anyone coming behind her well before they could spot her. She could see her old spot and moved over to it, as she positioned herself to squat down. But there was a problem. To get her knickers down, she’d have to move her hands from between her legs. It would only take a few seconds. But could she hold that long? She danced desperately on the spot, trying to regain enough strength to remove her hands; just for a few moments. “I haven’t been this close to wetting myself in years”, thought Allison; as she finally felt she had enough control to last a few more seconds. The grip of her fingers loosened. Her hands slipped from between her summer dress. Trembling at first; then shaking violently, she removed her hands and had just gotten her hands around the edge of her panties when she gasped with shock. Her bladder muscles gave out completely and she could feel pee soak through her knickers instantly, expanding the wet spot as the fabric was soaked from between the hair around her clit right up to and around her bum; as tendrils of pee ran down the back of her clamped legs. After three seconds, she was able to stop it and wanted to gasp with relief but had tears in her eyes from shame. She had wet herself. In school. Admittedly, while not a full accident and easily coverable once she dried off the back of her legs; she was so disappointed in herself. She wasn’t a baby. She was meant to be a sixteen-year-old girl. Prom was next year, where she wanted to have a fancy dress and; hopefully, lose her virginity. Ideally to Max. All of her friends would be grinding against the boys at the after-party, letting themselves be touched and pleasured through their elaborate clothing. What was she going to do? Ask Max to pleasure her through her diaper? Or not use on and just piss on his cock halfway through sex? The thought made her feel sick and not for the first time; she hated her condition, feeling a tear roll down her face as she held back a sob. “Calm down Allison” she said to herself internally. “You’ve not lost control yet. Well… not really. You just need to clean up and finish this and look on the Brightside, your bladder’s feeling much better now. You can relieve yourself without risk of another accident”. She was right. The pressure on her stomach was greatly weakened, enough that she felt like she could probably hold on for ages longer if she cared to; though she did not. Sliding down her drenched knickers, she kicked them off and stuffed them into her pocket; she knew there was no use to wearing them now. They’d just make her feel icky and stupid. As she squatted down to get her full relief, she heard a voice call out: “Hello?”. HOLY SHIT. That was Max’s voice. Standing up in a panic, she saw him come through the treeline and spot her a few seconds later. She thanked half the gods she could remember that he hadn’t been there thirty seconds earlier, while cursing every other one that he was here now. The back of her legs still had tendrils of pee on them and while there was; thankfully, no puddle around her, she wished that her crush had chosen any other time but now to speak to her. Max had dark brown eyes, blonde hair and muscles that made Allison gaze at him dreamily through half of her classes. He was an inch over 6ft. and usually wore a white sports top and black ripped jeans, which she thought was super attractive on him. “Why does he have to notice me now?! Now of all times?! WHY!!!” she screamed internally. “Hey Allison, you okay? What are you doing here?”. “Uh, h-hi Max. I’m just, p-picking Sun blankets!” she exclaimed, gesturing needlessly to the flower bank besides them; the first lie she could think of. “Oh cool”. “W-what are you doing here?”. “Oh, was just wondering about, thought I heard something; was bored so I thought I’d check it out. You mind if I join you?”. On any other day, she’d have immediately shouted “YES!” loud enough for half the school to hear but if he saw the back of her legs, he’d realise immediately that she’d had an accident. She knew he would tell the entire school, she’d be humiliated, no-one would be friends with her and she knew she didn’t have enough money to fly to China and retreat to the mountains. Maybe she could become a desert hermit instead. Sighing under her breath with frustration, she said: “Sorry Max, I kind of like picking flowers here by myself”. “Oh… okay. Well, could we hang out some other time? You know, maybe go to the cinema or something?”. “What, like a date?”. “Y-yeah, basically. I mean, if that’s cool with you; if not, I get it”. “No, no; that would be great! I’d love to! Thank you!”. “You’re welcome. How about, next Tuesday, 6:00?”. “I’ll be there!”. For a moment, any need in her bladder was forgotten as she was overjoyed to finally be asked out by her crush. Normally, she’d savour the moment with him; however, she still needed to clean up. “Well, I’ll see you back at next class?”. “Yeah, totally”. “Gre-”. Suddenly, a loud high pitched whirr cut Allison off. It was the fire-alarm, blaring all over the school; summoning all kids immediately to the playground. Allison wanted to scream at the sound. “Oh fucking hell, what dickhead hit it this time?! Well, we’d better go; you know how Mrs. Shaw gets if anyone’s late for fire alarms.”. Mercifully, Max turned his back and started walking forwards long enough for Allison to quickly wipe away the thin lines of pee around her legs, bum and between her legs; before running over to him, moments before he turned back around. “Okay” thought Allison. “I’ve got some relief and there’s only twenty minutes of lunch; then one more class today: German. I can do this. I can hold it. I can make it”. Allison Clofield spent the next few minutes, chatting with Max; during which time she completely forgot about her bladder needs. However, once lessons started; it was a different story. German; despite being the shortest lesson, was in the hottest room with broken-air con and stuffy walls. Everyone was guzzling water and Allison; who’d denied herself any all day, was beginning to suffer a bad headache and had to have some, otherwise she knew she was going to be sick. Though trying to restrain herself, the room’s stuffy nature meant she’d drank more than half her 500ml bottle in under half an hour and fairly soon, she was feeling the renewed pressure on her bladder. As her desk was at the back of the room and neither Emily; nor Max, were in this class with her, she resumed her squirming to hold on, which helped. But not much. By the last few minutes, she had wrapped her legs around each other, was regularly holding herself and the coldness of her seat was doing her no favours. Now panty-less, every squirm was against cold rubber and she knew even the slightest leak would be noticeable. She simply could not let ANYTHING out or everyone would know. As such, her bum shifted uncomfortably against the chair as she regularly crossed and uncrossed her legs; doing her best to remain inconspicuous, though still feeling embarrassed that at sixteen, she was acting more like how most schoolgirls do when they are seven or eight. She considered asking the teacher to let her use the toilets on the other side of school, however Mr. Tollinson was extremely strict and she knew there would be cues even if he did, despite it being lesson time. A fellow classmate; Rachel, she could see was bouncing up and down in her chair with desperation, having been denied the chance to use the bathroom at the start of lesson. Watching her did nothing to help her own situation, so instead she kept her head down and tried to focus on anything else; other than her own or anybody else’s need to use the toilet. By the time she carefully walked out of class, Allison felt as desperate as she had in the last half-hour of English class. Carefully waddling to the bus, she sat herself alone; in an isolated corner, for once grateful Emily didn’t take the bus with her on Thursdays. Every bump in the road, every slow moving line of traffic, every turn the driver took too fast was pure torture on Allison’s desperate bladder, as an entire day’s worth; minus her big leak, worth of pee sloshed about inside her. She bounced and held herself and kept back half-a-dozen leaks that tried to spring from her but she wouldn’t let them. She had to hold it. She could do it. She wouldn’t wet herself. She wouldn’t. She repeated those words in her head, over and over; believing them less and less each time. Finally; just as she felt her bladder could take no more, the bus pulled in to her stop, roughly half a mile’s walk from her house. Slowly getting off the bus; much to the driver’s annoyance, she practically waddled towards her home as she felt a cold-draft fill the air. Her desperation was now as bad as it was around the beginning of lunch and she knew she couldn’t hold it any longer. A gust of wind blew down the street, flapping her dress and going in-between her legs. The cool air rushed against her bushy pussy and caused her to freeze up as a long stream of pee raced from her for two seconds, causing a small puddle3 to appear on the sidewalk, small rivers of pee on the back of her legs and a wet patch on the front of her summer dress; where she’d been holding the fabric against herself. However, unlike the previous leaks; her desperation only increased as she desperately danced on the spot, forcing herself to move forwards. She was so close. She couldn’t lose control now. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. She could. She could. Oh god, she was going to. She was going to have an accident. She was going to wet herself. “I’m going to wet myself!”. Those words played back in her mind a dozen times over as she closed the remaining distance to her house. Her hand was glued in-between her dress for those final few metres and with her other, she desperately pulled out her front-door key, unlocked it as her whole body violently shook and pushed open her front door. Slamming it behind her, she turned around and was startled to see her mum was home, standing in the kitchen doorway; looking towards her. She would later learn work had let her off early, after a successful pitch. The minor surprise would normally mean nothing. Today, it was the straw that broke her bladder’s back. Sarah Clofield watched as her daughter’s entire body trembled violently for a few seconds, rooted to the spot; before a loud hissing sound filled the air. Rivers of urine flowed down her daughter’s legs, as Allison felt her bum, ankles and sandals become drenched in seconds. Her summer dress; the front half pressed uselessly between her legs, got caught in the onslaught of wetness and began to drip with pee as Allison completely lost control. Her mother watched silently as her daughter continued to wet herself in front of her, seeing the tears forming in Allison’s eyes; before running down her cheek. Allison; exhausted and overwhelmed with both shame and self-loathing, felt her knees buckle as she fell into her expanding puddle, her body shaking with same and sobs as she began to cry with frustration. She could feel the bush of her pussy soaking into her puddle; along with most of her summer dress, as her toes curled against the cold liquid and her mother embraced her into a hug; feeling but ignoring her daughter’s pee soaking into her own jeans. “I-i-I’m sorry mum, I-I tried! I c-couldn’t-” sobbed Allison. “It’s okay, it’s okay sweetheart, you did so well; you made it, you made it home, I won’t tell anyone. It’s okay”, said her mother soothingly. Allison finally felt the last of her pee rush out of her, as her mother gently stroked her black hair through her fingers; as she sobbed into her shoulder. She knew this was a lot better than losing control at school, on the street or GOD FORBID in-front of Max but she still felt humiliated. She was twenty-steps from the nearest bathroom and had wanted so badly to make it home, to use her own toilet and for all her suffering to be worth it; for her pride to not be in the puddle around her. Still, her mother’s soothing words slowly calmed her down and eventually, she had relaxed enough to; solemnly, take a shower. By the time she was done, her mother had picked out clean clothes for her, tossed her wet ones into the laundry and cleaned up her puddle. Eventually, sometime after dinner; once Allison had gotten comfortably cleaned up and into a new diaper, she told her mum of Max asking her out and her mood began to lighten. The next day, she returned to school, nervous but happily realised no-one had noticed anything. Her regular diaper was comfortably around her and she felt safe again, though knew she had a challenge up-ahead. For Max was taking her out on a date soon and she would have to make a decision: Did she wear one and risk him finding it if hands wondered? Or, go without and risk results 10x worse? Allison sighed. “Life is hard” she thought grumpily. “And wet”. THE END PART II: THE DESPERATE DIAPERED DATE Allison was nervous. She was about to go on a date with long-time crush Max Fielding, who she had desired all-year. If she was anyone else, she knew she’d be dancing around elated; waiting until she’d sat through a generically acceptable amount of the movie they were going to see, before they could make-out. She’d dreamed of him kissing her, a hand slipping over her breasts; yet dreaded what would happen if he took it further and knew that was a risk. For if he did, Max would learn her greatest secret: That she had to wear diapers to avoid what would otherwise be near-daily, humiliating accidents. She had suffered a horrible one, exactly-one-week ago; barely making it home and avoiding an accident at school, before her bladder strength collapsed in the home stretch and she’d wet herself in front of her mum. Even now, the memory made her cringe; though she was more understanding than anyone else would be about it. She hadn’t worn that summer dress since and thinking of how she’d nearly lost-it in front of Max that day was enough to make her stomach turn with fear. She wanted badly to not wear a diaper on their date but couldn’t risk him finding out her secret, from watching urine run down her legs after she downed too much coke. So, she resolved to not let Max anywhere near her lower-half tonight. What would she do in the future? Right now, she really didn’t want to think that far ahead. Tonight, she would just enjoy Max kissing everywhere else. Unfortunately, even that wasn’t going to be as simple as she hoped. Max, the sweet, romantic; probably horny, pain had told Allison that he intended to dress up for their date and that: “I can’t wait to see how you’ll look!”. After that, Allison knew she’d have to wear something sexy but nothing seemed right… except one thing. Several weeks ago, Emily had dragged her to the shops; insisting she “Spice up” Allison’s wardrobe. It had been a tense day for Allison, making sure Emily didn’t walk into her changing and see her diapers; however, the biggest waste in her mind was having to pacify Emily by spending way too much money on a shiny-red dress, with a low-cut cleavage. She didn’t wear dresses. There was too much risk of her diaper being glimpsed. But tonight, she knew it was what Max wanted. She could get away with it just once… Right? RING!!! Allison jumped nervously, her breasts bouncing inside her loose pink-bra; as she grabbed her phone. “Hi Allison! “Oh hey Max!”. “Hey, just calling to let you know I’m fifteen minutes away. Is that good with you?”. “Yeah, of course; that’s fine. See you then!”. “Can’t wait, bye!”. “Bye!”. “ARGH!!!!!!!” thought Allison; panicking. She was standing; practically naked, with no idea what to do. Finally, after what felt like hours of further deliberation; she unclipped her pink bra, sliding herself into the red dress, while making sure her diaper was securely fastened underneath as high as it could be, while the dress was as far down to her knees as possible. Her cleavage was on full display, pressed tightly together and bulging against the tight fabric of the dress; displaying her ass nicely as well. Looking at herself in the mirror, Allison felt confident. “I can do this” she thought. “I can do this”. Hearing the doorbell ring, she grabbed her bag and raced down the stairs; before opening her front-door. Max was standing there, dressed smartly in freshly-ironed black jeans, white trainers and a smart-casual black button shirt; a brown leather jacket over that. The two eyed each other lustfully, smiling. “Wow you look gorgeous!” said Max, causing Allison to blush. “Aww thanks, you don’t scrub up so bad yourself”. “You ready?”. “Let’s go”. Max smiled and took Allison’s hand in his as they began walking down the street, needing to take a one-mile walk to the nearest train station; from where they would head into the city. They chatted easily and comfortably for several minutes, which greatly relieved Allison; who had been afraid Max would find her boring. Instead, they had an easy chemistry and Allison began day-dreaming about maybe, possibly; letting him get to second base, if the cinema was empty enough… WHOOSH! Suddenly, a strong burst of wind blew into them; causing Max to shiver and Allison to let go of Max’s hand and grab the hem of her dress; which blew upwards slightly. A dozen more gusts hit them over the next couple of minutes, with Allison carefully holding her dress against them; trying not to show how tense she was. “Oh god, if the wind gets any stronger, my dress is going to fly up” she thought nervously. Thankfully, the wind began to die down and after several minutes; had been reduced to a gentle breeze, unable to do more than sway the fabric of her clothes. Feeling confident enough to retake Max’s hand, she caught him lustfully staring at her boobs; which made her smile. Maybe this dress was a good idea after all- WHOOSH!!! A fierce gust of wind raced towards them and at that very moment, Allison stumbled; catching her boot in a pothole, causing her to lose grip of Max’s hand. As she regained her balance, the wind caused her dress to fly up as Max turned to face her; giving him a full-frontal view of her as the dress went above her hips. Allison felt as if the world had slowed down; like being in a slow-motion car crash, as she watched Max’s eyes widen when he saw her blue pampers diaper, unmistakeable for anything else. A second later, Allison pushed her dress down; yet it was too late, confirmed when Max said: “Um, Allison… are you wearing a diaper?”. Allison felt her blood run cold and began to tremble violently, tears coming to her eyes. This was her worst nightmare. “This can’t be happening!” she thought. “This was meant to be the perfect date. Now everything’s ruined. Max will tell everyone! He won’t want to go out with a girl like me, he’ll think I’m some dumb girl who can’t control herself. Everyone at school will think I’m a freak! I am a freak! Why did I have to wear this? I should have just held it. Why can’t I just hold, like a normal person. Why me? ITS NOT FAIR”. Allison tried to speak but the words would not come to her mouth; which felt incredibly dry, as she began to start crying, sobbing into her hands, turning away from Max. “Hey, hey Allison, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, please, don’t cry. I swear, I won’t tell anyone. I promise”. Allison looked up; her makeup running with her tears, a touch hopeful. She knew her date had to be ruined but maybe if she explained, Max would keep his word and not tell people. Maybe he’d say he found her boring on their date. Maybe he’d say she wasn’t pretty enough. For all she cared, he could say that he fingered her on a park bench; so long as he didn’t expose her secret. She took a deep breath, controlling her emotions over a few seconds; before saying: “W-when I was ten, I got kicked by a horse and my bladder got damaged. I can barely hold anything for more than a few hours without leaking or having accidents and I didn’t want people to bully me, so the doctor gave me these to wear; said the might help train my bladder. They haven’t really” said Allison bitterly. “I can hold sometimes but it’s more luck if I do and I’m basically incontinent half-the-time… I’m sorry, I understand if you want to go hom-”. Max interrupted her confession by grabbing her tightly, locking her in a passionate kiss; as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Her lips locked with Max naturally and she could feel his hands reaching under her dress, both his hands massaging her bum; pressing against the material of her diaper. She could also feel a raging-erection; barely suppressed in his jeans, grinding against her front and felt herself melt against it. She didn’t know what was going on or why. Any moment now, she was expecting to wake up; disappointedly, from this dream and start getting prepared for the real date. This couldn’t possibly be happening… A few moments later, Max pulled away from Allison; leaving her dazed and amazed, while he was blushing scarlet red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” said Max embarrassedly. Allison just stared, bewildered and lost in a haze of conflicting emotions. “I-I kind of have a kink, I mean, I, you know, I really like it when girls are incontinent and have accidents and stuff and when I saw you in that diaper, I mean, that dress and you and that, I just, I thought you looked so cute and sexy” stuttered Max, afraid Allison was about to freak out. Instead, she stood there; unable to take in what she had heard. He didn’t think she was a freak. Or a baby. Or anything like that. He actually enjoyed her condition, he thought she looked hot in her diaper?! She could hardly believe it. She’d heard of people like that once or twice on support forums for people like her but assumed they were always just creepy old men. Realising that Max didn’t care what she wore under her dress; or did but in a good way, took a massive weight off her chest. Wiping her ruined makeup away, she smiled and wrapped her arms around Max’s neck; letting her diaper grind gently against his still intense erection. “I don’t mind if you don’t” she whispered in a sultry tone, kissing his neck, before letting her fingers just gently run over the bulging tent in his trousers; as she moved away. “Come on” said Allison happily. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our date”. It was not a difficult request. Allison and Max’s chemistry; already good before, was now alight with energy. Strangely, for a couple of hours; neither said anything about her condition. They chatted about movies and music, schoolwork and overbearing parents, they laughed at each other’s jokes and gave each other dreamy looks; holding hands tightly together. That was not to say that it wasn’t thought about by either of them. Max for his part, could barely contain his excitement when he saw that Allison bought a large coke to drink during the film, wondering if before the night was done, he’d have a chance to see the diaper in action. Allison meanwhile was happier than she’d been in years. She finally felt accepted. Her mother never made her feel guilty for her condition but she pitied her daughter, which never made Allison feel totally at-ease with it. It had always been something to be ashamed of, something to hide and resent. Now; to the person she had most wanted it to be, it was just a part of her: Accepted; even relished in by him. It made Allison feel so much more confident. She’d always had a playful side but never would have dared touch him like she had earlier, unless she was confident in knowing his response wouldn’t expose her. Now, she didn’t have to care. During the movie, both waited for little more than a few minutes before the kisses; then full-on snogging started. With less than half a dozen people in the screening; all on lower rows, the two grew bolder quickly. Allison ran her hand over Max’s erection; teasing it to constant twitches, as her fingers ran along the edge of his jeans. In return, his tongue dominated inside her mouth and his hands slide inside her dress; grabbing her boobs in such a lustful way, she had a hard time suppressing her moans. He even ran his hand up her legs and across her diaper a handful of times, kissing her intensely after each time. For so long, her diapers had been a prison for Allison; a wearable symbol of her lack of “maturity” and “growth”. She thought they would condemn her to never be with anyone properly or a life of frustrating secrecy. To have them be a part of her sexiness; especially to Max, made her feel giddy and daring. After the film; which Allison would later laugh at not even remembering what it was, they went to Five Guys Burger, where Allison ordered her second large soda of the day. Normally, she’d already be desperate; perhaps even leaking if doing that, however she was so excited she hardly noticed and her mouth kept getting dry from all the snogging she and Max were having. She sipped greedily on her soda as they played footsie and chatted about random things, then ordered another and some more chips for them to share; which they would bite from each end and use yet another excuse to kiss, meeting in the middle. This went on for more than two-hours, as Allison gradually became aware of her growing need for relief. She put it off at first; unwilling to leave Max’s side for even a single second, however she started to squirm in her seat after a while, much to Max’s pleasure; though he didn’t say anything about it. For his part, he was having one of the best nights of his life: Allison; his crush, a girl he thought was one of the most beautiful girls in the whole school, needed to wear diapers due to her incontinence: She couldn’t be more perfect for him. He’d discovered his own kink years ago. His childhood best friend, Sally, had been ghost-hunting one day in the nearby forests of his home when they were twelve-years-old. They’d both been carrying large water bottles and out running with “Ghost capturing devices”; old fishing nets, having gone well-out-of-sight of Max’s house. Neither had; as kids often don’t, noticed their own growing desperation, when as they had reached a river creek, Sally had clutched her belly in pain and shouted: “Oh god, I need to go so bad”. Sally had been dressed in blue-cropped shorts and black leggings and a striped white-pink top; with green trainers. She had held herself between her legs for several seconds and when she let go; still pee dancing on the spot to try and hold, Max had seen a wet-spot on her clothes that had made him feel dizzy and sweaty for reasons he hadn’t understood at the time. Her pee-dance had been a sight to behold: Twisted legs, shaking, dancing up-and-down, holding her stomach, walking back-and-forth on the spot and at times; freezing still and pushing hard against herself. Nothing had worked for Sally. She had then tried sprinting back through the fields, barely making it halfway through the first one before she froze on the spot. Her whole body had been shaking: “Max, I can’t make it”. Those words still gave Max chills thinking about them, as did picturing how she had then lost control. The pee had spread across her clothes, the wet spot rapidly expanding and running across her black tights; coming out in a hundred-small-streams through the fabric. He had watched with awe as his best friend completely wet herself, pee running into her little green trainers and into the surrounding dirt; as she turned to face Max, blushing with embarrassment. “Max, I’m wetting myself”. The statement was obvious but something about it had tipped Max over the edge and though he hadn’t understood it at the time, he had just had his first orgasm; climaxing into his shorts, then weeing through them himself as his young, tired muscles were unable to handle the strain. The two had just watched as pee ran down the others legs; something else mixed in with Max, as they finished their mutual accidents. Given that it had happened to them both, neither mocked the other and both just continued to play for a while; jumping into the creek to wash their clothes, then waiting for them to dry off in the sun, yet it had been Max’s sexual-awakening and since then, he had longed to see more accidents, yet constantly been frustrated. “Hey Allison, can I ask you something?”. “Yeah, what is it?”, she replied; trying to reduce her squirming and focus on what Max was about to say. “Last week, at school: Did you, have an accident?”. Despite herself, Allison turned bright red at this question. “Uh, yeah; kind of” she whispered, bright-red as an apple. “My diaper supplies all got ruined by this bottle of lemonade and I had to go to school without them. I wanted to use the bathroom but never got a proper chance and I had a couple of leaks. How did you know?”. “Well, when you went into the trees, I thought I saw you holding yourself. I assumed it was wishful thinking, then when I spoke to you, there was a bit of water around your feet but again, I thought I was being hopeful as there didn’t seem to be any on you”. “Yeah, I had just leaked but it had all run down the back of my legs, when I saw you I was petrified; I was so scared that you’d realise what had happened. I didn’t want you finding out”. “Oh yeah? Well, how do you feel now that I know?”. Allison smiled. “It feels good”, she said honestly; before they shared a long, longing kiss, Allison fidgeting for several moments before pulling away. “Speaking of which, I’m pretty busting; I really need to go now. I’ll be right back”. Max for his part wouldn’t have minded if she chose to stay with him and let nature take its course but didn’t want Allison to feel uncomfortable around him. “Sure thing babe. I’ll be here”. However, as Allison rounded the corner; she gasped. The takeaway’s restrooms were flooded, three different employees were cleaning the hallway and all the bathrooms had water coming through the doors. One of them looked up towards Allison, a woman in her mid-40’s: “Sorry love, burst pipe, they’re all out of action I’m afraid”. “Oh, okay; no problem, thanks” said Allison politely. Returning to Max, she squirmed in-front of him. “Hey, can we pay and go; their toilets are broken and I really need the toilet right now”. Max; feeling like some God was smiling down on him today, agreed and quickly paid for their food and drinks. Smiling, they walked down the street, however Allison’s frustration quickly grew. It was now late at night and every store was closed, the ones which weren’t were private off-licenses and when Allison swallowed her nerves and begged one of them to use their staff bathrooms, she was given short shrift. Stumbling through the streets; desperately holding herself, Allison was bursting for the toilet. She knew realistically that she was minutes away from an accident. Normally, if she was being this overt about it, she’d be humiliated; yet with Max, she felt much less ashamed of it. The pain of her swollen bladder forced her to take a seat on a park bench, slamming her legs together; as she and Max sat together in the abandoned park. “God, I’m so fucking desperate” moaned Allison. “Well, be honest. If we go to the station now, do you think you’ll make it home?”. Allison shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll even make it onto the train”, she said; holding herself tightly as a desperate pang shot through her bladder. Max breathed deeply. He wanted badly to say what he had in mind, yet didn’t want to push his luck. He’d never forgive himself if he ruined such a promising thing by going too fast or being too full-on. However, his raging erection was eating away at his inhibitions and he decided it was now-or-never. He was going to say. He was going to say it. He was going- “-Just go then”. Allison looked him in the eyes. “If you can’t hold it, just let go babe. I won’t mind”. Allison bit her lip gently, her body beginning to tremble. “Just let it all out”. Suddenly, a quiet hissing sound filled the air as Allison’s body began to shake with relief; her eyes rolling back in pleasure. Max; going on instinct, lifted her dress to watch the diaper expand out as Allison filled it. Max thought he couldn’t possibly get anymore turned on and then Allison said: “Max, I’m wetting myself”. Max could literally feel the pleasurable chill run over his entire body and his cock became so erect, it was practically standing upright his pants; pushing against his trousers violently. He was so hard it hurt, yet his pleasure wasn’t done. He felt Allison’s hand reach out and grab his cock through the fabric, causing him to moan loudly in shock and pleasure; biting his tongue to stay quiet. Allison held him, very gently rubbing her fingers up and down; as Max watched her accident slowly begin to come to an end, as the hissing sound died away and the two stared at each other hungrily. Max leaned in to Allison’s ear and said: “Take it off, I dare you” he said; his tone dark and brimming with lust. Allison moaned in pleasure and did what he asked, gently unstrapping her diaper from underneath her dress; pulling the sodden material down her legs. Max watched in delight as it slid down to her ankles; where he could see how soaked it was. Unable to hold back any longer, he grabbed her and pulled her in-close; snogging her more intensely than before. For her part, Allison did the same; unbuttoning his pants. Emboldened by Allison’s actions, he moved his hand between Allison’s legs and felt her gasp as he slide two fingers along the slit of her hairy, wet pussy. “She’s hairy and soaked and horny, god could this girl get any better?” thought Max. That was about the last coherent thought he had however, as Allison freed his cock from his trousers and dark-blue underwear seconds later; where it sprung up in delight. Her hand gripped it and began stroking him, with it only taking a few-pumps until pre-cum was dripping over hand. Max then began to kiss her neck, as she moaned quietly in pleasure; feeling his magical fingers driving her to new heights of lust, as she began to speed up the pace she was playing with his cock. In return, Max pulled her the dress off her boobs and slid one into his mouth; which combined with sliding a finger inside her soaking wet pussy, made her bite his shoulder to prevent herself screaming with lust. The soft feeling of them in his mouth made Max want to go deeper inside her and Allison’s pussy quivered with delight, lubed up as she was by her own accident; his finger was able to get comfortably inside her by multiple inches and she was convulsing around him. Meanwhile, her hand stroked his cock faster and faster by the second and Max knew he was barely holding on now. Pre-cum was already dripping heavily over her fingers and the situation was just too erotic, too pleasurable; any moment now he was going to lose control. He tried to control his breathing, think calming thoughts; anything to slow his lust down, yet still he felt the tightening in his balls grow ever more intense. Allison for her part was feeling the same, seconds away from what she knew would be the most powerful orgasm she had ever had. She felt so naughty. She was exposed, in-public, her wet diaper around her ankles as her crush fingered her accident-soaked, lust-drenched pussy and she played with their cock. She desperately wanted to last longer or at very least, tip Max over the edge first. “Watching you wet your diaper was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” moaned Max, through heavy breaths. “Maybe next time, I’ll do it, in my school uniform” purred Allison, biting his ear. And just like that, Max was gone; grunting in pleasure as his hips thrusted and he began to lose control. His cum began to fly in all directions, most going over Allison’s hand, some on his legs, some on hers; a little on her tits and a splash or two on her cheeks. Max for his part only increased his fingering while losing it, to the point of intensity that Allison simply couldn’t control herself and felt the knot of her stomach break; sending her thundering into the greatest orgasm she’d ever had. Max’s legs trembled as his hot, white spurts of cum continued to fall over Allison’s hand; with her screaming into his shoulder to prevent half-the-city hearing her. Her teeth bit into his shoulder; which only made his own orgasm that more powerful, while Allison’s hips convulsed and her clit throbbed with delight. She’d never experienced so much pleasure in her life. Her entire body felt like it was on fire; yet so alive. She didn’t know anything could feel this good, her own times masturbating looked pathetic next to this and Max felt the same. All the times he’d pleasured himself to Sally’s accident or random girls he’d seen desperate, uninspired internet videos; even his own morning-wood play over Allison’s profile pictures on Facebook, everything seemed weak and tepid next to this level of erotic thrill. Max’s orgasm finally slowed and came to a halt, leaving Allison gently gripping Max’s spent cock; her hand drenched in cum, while Max’s fingers slowly withdrew from Allison, who was still clutching to Max for dear-life, enjoying the incredible warmth of her afterglow. For a minute or two, they sat there; holding each other. Eventually, Allison sat up; looking at the cum dripping off her hand. “It looks like you really needed that” she said, then naughtily licking a big chunk off her hand; enjoying the sweet taste. Max nearly collapsed at the sight of that, yet held together; moaning in pleasure, before retorting: “You were so wet babe; you must have been so desperate”. “I was so desperate”. “For me or the toilet?”. “Both”. They kissed hard for a few seconds more after that, eventually stopping for air; as Alice realised how much cum was on her dress. Using her fingers to wipe it off; before licking as much as she could, Max slid his now finally receding cock back into his pants. Allison pulled her dress back over her boobs; much to Max’s pouting dismay, which she laughed at. “Sorry babe”, she said playfully; kicking the wet diaper off her ankles, then throwing it into the nearby bin. As she did, she made sure to bend over; flashing her bare bum at him. Max raced up behind and smacked her once on the ass, causing her to yelp with pleasure. “You… naughty boy!” she purred. “You were a bad girl” Max retorted. “You needed to be punished”. “Oh, how was I a bad girl?” said Allison; playing innocent. “You couldn’t hold on, like a big girl. You lost control. You had an accident. You wet yourself”. “Oh, I did” agreed Allison. “I couldn’t hold it, I just lost control. I wet myself”. She then whispered into his ear. “You made me be very bad”. Max swore that if it wasn’t for the fact he had literally cum not more than five-minutes ago, he would pin Allison to the ground and rip off her dress; right there and then. “He’s so turned on” thought Allison, loving this power she had over Max. “Come on you” said Allison, offering her hand out to Max. “You still need to get me home safely, like a gentleman. This date isn’t over yet”. Max laughed, then replied: “Of course my lady”, in a deliberately posh voice. The two walked off from the park together, an arm around each other; delighting in each other’s company. They talked of how fun that had been, how it had made them both feel; as well as how lucky they had been not to get caught. However, that last part was not entirely true. For someone Allison knew very well had seen the last part of their date unfold, watching in delight, shock, disgust and then intrigue from the nearby park bushes; unsure of how they felt of what they’d witnessed. Over the coming weeks, a dozen guilty-sessions where she played with herself in bed; fantasising about the two, until she soaked her pyjamas with lust, would tell her exactly how she felt. Meanwhile, yet more happened that night between Allison and Max. They got to the train-station as normally as one would expect; yet from there, the night took a further interesting turn that led to much more pleasure for the two-horny lovebirds. It would be a night the two would remember for years to come, the kind of story that one can’t even tell their closest friends; for they would gape at you in shock, seeing a new side to you as they never expected to see. It would be a night of further self-discovery and fun, erotic thrills and romance, pleasure and playfulness, wetness and horniness. For now, the two young lovers simply strolled through the night; without a care in the world. Allison, a girl who had started the day ashamed of her own body; now relished in the power and lust it could inspire. Max, a boy who had started the day where his greatest wetting memory was from his pre-puberty years, now had a memory that would be the stuff of lust-fuelled dreams for years to come. Together, they would soon bring each other more delight than they could possibly imagine and in time, their little games of wetness would become far greater than they could possibly imagine. Yet that, is a tale for another day. PART III: THE DESPERATE DIAPERED SCHOOLGIRLS Allison Clofield was bored. She was sitting in class, tapping her pencil rhythmically against the table; waiting for the first lesson to start. The substitute teacher was late and while she’d normally be chatting with friends, everyone she liked to hang out with was elsewhere. Her best friend Emily and boyfriend Max were both away on a week-long school sports trip, during which time, she was stuck at school without the two most important people in her life. It was a hot day and Allison took another gulp from her water bottle, though she knew it would be wise to restrict herself. She still had a full lesson until break and with her condition, didn’t want to risk getting too desperate for the toilet. Having been forced to wear diapers for years, ever since a horse riding accident in Arizona, she now had one underneath her long black schoolgirl skirt: The bulky material hid expertly by years of practice and near-misses. Allison would be mortified if anyone at her school found out. Of course, that wasn’t strictly true. Six months ago, she’d gone on a date with her crush; Max Fielding, which had ended up with her diaper being revealed to him near the start of their night out. To her surprise and eternal gratitude, Max hadn’t just been accepting but adoring of it: When public bathrooms being out of use had forced her to have an accident in-front of him, he’d been so turned on that Allison ended up with her diaper around her ankles; rather than a pair of panties, as her date fingered her to the best orgasm of her life. Allison blushed at the memory, realising that one of her classmates had glanced over to her, as she’d been sucking on her water-bottle a little too eagerly. Looking into her textbook with false enthusiasm, she distracted herself from the wait by trying to remind herself that she’d soon have her best friend and boyfriend back; then all would be well. All three of them had their seventeenth birthdays over the next month and she’d promised Max on their first date to one day to wet herself in her school uniform. It wasn’t the worst idea… ‘Attention class!’. Allison was pulled out of her daydream by Mrs. Jamison, their English substitute teacher. However, what had truly caught their attention, was a new student; standing beside her, looking fairly nervous. ‘Everyone, we have a new student! I’d like you all to welcome Kelly Madison to our class!’. Everyone was staring and it wasn’t hard to see why: Kelly was beautiful. Her bright blue eyes and warm smile; only bolstered with cherry red lipstick, would have been enough to win any guy over instantly. However, she also had long dark hair, flowing down to the middle of her back, that made her look like a young model. She was black tights and a long black school skirt, that; despite making everyone else feel generic, somehow only served to highlight her hourglass figure. ‘Damn, she’s gonna have a boyfriend in days, the guys will be all over her! Hell, some of the girls will be too!’ thought Allison, before blushing at her own thoughts. ‘Allison, would you mind showing Kelly around for the day? Make sure she knows where everything is, make her feel safe and welcome?’ asked Mrs. Jamison. ‘Yeah, sure’. Dozens of eyes watched her as she passed by tables, looking uncomfortable at the leering looks she was getting, before taking a seat next to Allison. ‘Hey, nice to meet you!’ said Kelly shyly. ‘You too. I’m Allison Clofield. If you need help with anything, just let me know’. ‘Thanks’. As they began to work, Allison noticed that Kelly was fidgeting; fairly frequently, every few minutes. She would change her seating position, from rested legs, to one crossed, to tightly clasped and then back to relaxed. Recognising the behaviour from her own issues, Allison smiled sympathetically. Kelly obviously had to pee but was too nervous to ask her directly, as a new student; not wanting to cause a fuss. ‘Hey Kelly, don’t worry’ whispered Allison quietly. ‘There’s only twenty minutes left of the lesson. Soon as we’re done, I’ll show you where the toilets are’. TEN MINUTES EARLIER Kelly stood nervously, waiting outside the classroom door; mentally preparing herself to be introduced to a room full of strangers at her new school. That was mentally daunting enough but Kelly had more reason than most to be uncomfortable. As she stood outside the door, she could feel the weight of a white pampers diaper; hidden underneath her skirt. The headmaster had promised her and her parents that she could wear a specially made long skirt, with weights in the fabric, to help avoid anyone seeing it but the school had mistakenly sent her the wrong one in an order mix-up. For the next week, she was going to have to make do with a regular skirt and even worse than that, right now, she realised that she needed to pee. It had all started when she was twelve-years-old. She had been in the backseat of her family’s car, when a dangerous driver had clipped the side of their car; causing them to smash into the highway barrier. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt, though Kelly’s father had been seconds away from smashing in the head of the Porsche driver who nearly got his daughter killed. When the cars had collided, Kelly had already been desperate for the toilet; her family heading home from several hours of fun at an arcade with ridiculously long bathroom cues. She’d been tightly holding herself and the force of the impact caused her stretched, tense muscles; along with the shock, to release instantly. Because of what had happened, no-one; not even Kelly, had noticed for several minutes, until a police sheriff offered to have a female officer bring Kelly a change of shorts, gesturing to the large wet-spot on her pink crop shorts. Unfortunately, it was only the start of Kelly’s accidents. The impact had torn dozens of muscles in her bladder and though she was on a special medication that prevented bleeding and was; slowly, healing her, the doctors had told her that she likely wouldn’t be fully healed until the end of 2024, when she was twenty-one. During this time, they had recommended that she wear diapers, to limit the impact of the damage to her bladder on her daily life. Kelly had initially thrown a huge tantrum and refused. However, a series of bedwetting and public accidents; including one at a large superstore, had made her reluctantly go along with it. Over the years she had gotten used to it, though it still made her anxious and it got worse with each passing month; as guys offered her more attention. She knew she was attractive to a lot of people but was deeply afraid of it, as her looks often brought guys with wandering hands, trying to get their hands under her shirt or worse, her skirts, dresses or; where she could, jeans. They were either refused or; in one extreme case, she bit a guy’s hand, after he tried lifting her skirt on several occasions. She knew that just one glimpse of the diapers she wore would turn her into a social pariah, mocked by everyone at school and, now that her dad had moved their family to a new area for work, she couldn’t afford to have a group of strangers find out about her condition. ‘Miss Madison?’. Kelly turned around to see the teacher approaching, smiling sweetly. ‘Are you ready to go in now?’. ‘I-I think so’. ‘Excellent, there’s no need to be shy dearest, the students are all very friendly here. Well… let’s not keep them waiting’. Kelly reluctantly followed Mrs. Jamison inside, as conversations quickly died away upon seeing the teacher; before all eyes turned to her. Immediately, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her nerves were playing hell on her bladder, though she forced herself to stand still, not wanting anyone’s first impression of her to be squirming in desperation for the toilet in front of class. ‘Allison, would you mind showing Kelly around for the day? Make sure she knows where everything is, make her feel safe and welcome?’ ‘Yeah, sure’. Kelly looked towards the girl who’d been assigned to look after her for the day. She had black hair and green eyes, with breasts that made her feel self-conscious for how small her b-cup ones were in contrast. Sitting down next to Allison, she introduced herself. ‘Hey, nice to meet you!’. ‘You too. I’m Allison Clofield. If you need help with anything, just let me know’. ‘Thanks’. ‘God, why did I say NICE TO MEET YOU, that’s so lame’ thought Kelly despairingly. Trying to focus on her work, Kelly found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable, as her damaged bladder began to rapidly fill. She squirmed in her seat, trying to get comfortable; to find a good resting position, yet it never made her feel better for long. She knew that; if she lost control, her diaper would absorb leaks and even a full accident. However, the risk of the diaper sagging below her skirt or worse, the sound of her peeing being heard, compelled her to hold on until she could find a bathroom. Even so, it was getting more difficult with every passing minute and she felt herself straining from the pressure… ‘Hey Kelly, don’t worry’. ‘There’s only twenty minutes left of the lesson. Soon as we’re done, I’ll show you where the toilets are’. Kelly turned bright red, horrified that Allison had realised her need to go. ‘Why do you say that?’ she said, laughing to sound dismissive. ‘I don’t need to go. If you want to stop there at break, we can’. Allison also blushed, not wanting to look babyish in front of the new girl. ‘N-no, I’m good, I just thought you might need to, as you were kind of fidgeting’. ‘Oh yeah, nah, I get bored easy with English, you know? Not really my favourite subject’. ‘Yeah, I totally get you. Well, let me show you around anyway, get you used to everywhere’. Kelly had to hide her frustration. She would have much preferred to stay in this classroom during break; focussing on not wetting her diaper, though using the toilets would have been ideal. She could practically see herself doing so: Walking; legs tightly together, through the bathroom door, shutting the cubicle door behind her, squirming for several seconds as she made sure she wouldn’t lose control, then pulling her skirt down to her ankles, unstrapping the diaper and finally, sighing with immense relief as the pee flowed into the ceramic basin. Instead, she was going to have to let she didn’t know lead her around an unfamiliar school and now, she had practically laughed in her face over the idea of using a bathroom anytime soon. Kelly sighed quietly. This was going to be a long day. Twenty minutes later, Allison and Kelly exited the classroom together. Since they had a half-hour break, Allison decided that it would be best to show her around the whole school; finishing at the science block, where they would spend their next two lessons. Both chatted in a friendly manner, however; beneath their smiles, both were growing increasingly frustrated. Allison: (Externally) So, we have history up those stairs with Mr. Romson; at the top of E block, with PSE through there. Kelly: (Externally) Alright, awesome! Where’s geography? Allison: (Internally) There’s five bathrooms in this building alone, FFS! Kelly: (Internally) How many toilets can one school have?! This is torture! Allison: (Externally) Geography’s just through there, then we have water fountains and changing rooms just around C block. Cafeteria’s opposite. Kelly: (Externally) That’s good, after P.E. days, we can grab lunch first. Allison: (Internally) Oh my god, those water fountains are not helping me! Kelly: (Internally) Water fountains?! Is this girl trying to make me wet myself?! What did I do to deserve this? As the two girls continued talking; slowly, signs of their growing desperation began to show. Despite both being petrified of seeming babyish to the other, their bladders were not up to this amount of holding; especially with the added nerves of not being caught, with the resolve of both beginning to crack. As both lent against a wall, chatting, Allison’s legs began to gradually shake. A gentle trembling at first, then more noticeable; to the point that Allison started folding and unfolding her legs, under the guise of being uncomfortable in the heat. Kelly meanwhile; feeling her stomach ache badly, had let her hand subtly fall against her stomach, gently rubbing it where she could to alleviate the pressure. Her heel had also been tapping the gravel pathway repeatedly, as her need to pee grew increasingly dangerous. Kelly was very nervous. While she knew that she couldn’t have a full-blown accident while wearing a diaper, the situation was still precarious. She knew full well just what the social cost to her would be if this was exposed. Two years ago, at her previous school, a guy she had a crush on; Tommy, had found out about her diapers when making out with her against the bike-shed. Kelly had been distracted, her bra pulled to the side and her boobs exposed from inside her unbuttoned school blouse. She hadn’t felt his hand slide underneath her skirt until it was too late. She’d explained everything to Tommy: Her car accident as a kid, why she had to wear them; the whole deal. He’d seemed understanding and had promised her that Kelly’s secret was safe with him. The next day, half-a-dozen boys pulled up her skirt in Maths; Tommy among them, snapping pictures and revealing her secret to the whole school. The bullying had been relentless, with Kelly losing almost all her friends in a matter of hours. No one wanted to be associated with the teenage girl who had to wear diapers. When her father said, around a month later, that they had to move because of his job: Kelly had been delighted. A fresh start. She couldn’t risk messing that up on her first day here. Had Allison known of this, she would have been nothing but sympathetic. She well remembered the first major accident she had after her bladder was damaged, at the sleepover with Emily. Her pink-heart pyjamas had been absolutely drenched after a bedwetting so severe, Emily later admitted that it took her parents two days to clean out her bed. Allison and Emily were childhood friends, yet that incident had shaken even them. When Allison had woken up to soaked pyjamas and a wet bed, Allison remembered that Emily had just stared at her friend in disbelief, watching her sob until the crying attracted Emily’s parents. Seeing how judgmental her best friend had been of the situation, Allison had been unable to speak to her until their parents forced them too; at which point Emily had apologised for acting so awkwardly towards Allison. Even so, it took them months for things to get back to normal and; even though Allison pretended not to, it still hurt how her awkward Emily acted whenever they were out and she needed the bathroom. Allison and Kelly sighed, lost in thought; chewing on a few crackers that Allison had shared. The dry food and memories had briefly distracted them but soon, both were startled by the sound of the school bell: Five minutes till the next lesson. Having heard it before, Allison had been more prepared; only looking up in slight annoyance at having her thoughts interrupted, yet Kelly had been caught off-guard. She felt a cold chill run down her spine, as her least favourite sensation suddenly hit her: A leak burst from her body, soaking the thick material of her white pampers diaper. Clamping her legs tightly together, she cut off the stream; as her body froze up in fear. ‘Are you okay?’ asked Allison, noticing Emily’s sudden lack of movement and worried expression. ‘Y-yeah, I’m good. Can’t believe break’s over. We best get to lessons then’ said Kelly, beginning to walk towards their new block; a little too over-eagerly. Allison frowned. ‘That was odd’ she thought but shrugged it, assuming Kelly was just nervous about getting in trouble. Even so, as they walked, Allison began to notice certain things. Emily’s uneven walk, the hand on her stomach, her eyes looking around for something: They were all things that Allison used to do a lot, especially when she was… ‘Hey, new girl!’. Kelly and Allison turned, seeing a lumbering sixteen-year-old approaching them: Jake Brians. A notorious creep, overweight, cocky and bane of the girls at St. Edwards School, his flirtish banter was hostile and uncomfortable; with his hands often wandering too close to areas he really wasn’t wanted. ‘Nice legs babe, love to see what’s underneath that skirt’ said Jake, with all the charisma of a dead rat. ‘Get lost’ said Kelly, however her words had no strength; still too nervous at being the new kid. Unfortunately, Jake took this as an opportunity and began to approach them. “Come on babe, I could be real nice. Give us a flash’. Jake wagged his finer, as if suggesting he was going to lift up her skirt; with Kelly backing away in fear. Allison; angered by Jake’s disrespect, grabbed his wrist and twisted, hard. Jake moaned in agony, causing several students to look over and laugh; as he stumbled back in pain. ‘Fucking bitch’ he screamed at Allison, who Kelly was staring at in awe. ‘Come near another girl this year Jake and I’ll break it. Let’s go Kelly’. The two girls wandered away, Allison wrapping an arm around Kelly’s shoulder as they walked past a moaning Jake; still wallowing in self-pity. ‘You okay?’ asked Allison, looking towards Kelly sympathetically. ‘Okay?! I think I’m in love! That was so cool!’. ‘Thanks’ said Allison, blushing at the compliment from Kelly. ‘You just can’t let them push you around, you know? People like that, they never learn; unless you give em something to remember’. ‘I wish I was more confident to do that. I’d have probably made a fool of myself trying that’. ‘Just twist and squeeze, gets rid of any dickheads’. As Kelly and Allison walked to class, laughing and chatting away, now with ease; as if old friends, fate intervened. Passing round a tight outdoor 30-degree walkway, a strong gust of wind raced through and; catching them both totally off guard, blew up both their skirts high, before either could react. Time seemed to slow down for both girls, as each’s eyes raced down to their own legs in panic; before glancing at each other. Allison’s eyed widened, spotting Kelly’s white pampers diaper, sitting snugly underneath a tight pair of pink panties on top. Kelly meanwhile felt all the blood in her body practically rush to her face, as she realised Allison was starting at her diaper; yet then saw the other girl’s own. Kelly stared in shock, unable to believe that somebody else shared her condition, her struggle, her pain. Allison and Kelly stared towards each other as both hurriedly pushed down their skirts, with thankfully no-one else around to see what had just happened. ‘You…’ Allison tailed off. ‘You…’ Kelly tailed off. Suddenly, the bell rang again: 1 minute till lessons. Kelly and Allison knew they didn’t have time to discuss things, so instead, began running to their next class; with both holding their skirts down as they went. Making it into their classroom just in time, their science teacher; Mr. Kensington, turned towards them. ‘Allison, please take your seat at D7, the test will be starting momentarily. Are you Kelly?’. ‘Y-yes sir’. ‘Kelly, since you haven’t revised these topics yet, I won’t be expecting miracles, just give it your best. Take the seat at C7’. Both girls moved to their seats in silence, shooting each other several glances; both wanting to say so much, yet unable to. Once sat down, a timer was started: 2:00:00, 1:59:59, 1:59:58…Their test had begun. Yet neither girl could focus on it. Both were too shocked at what they had just seen. ‘I can’t believe Kelly wears diapers?’. ‘Allison’s like me?’. ‘Kelly must have been lying earlier when she said she didn’t need the toilet. Oh my god, she’s just nervous and I’ve been making her feel like she couldn’t go. How could I be so thick?!’. ‘Allison must have asked earlier if I needed to go, as she knows how it feels! We could have just gone together: She would be the last person to judge me! How could I be such an idiot?!’ ‘Now, she’s stuck in a test…’. ‘Now she’s stuck in a test…’. ‘Now, I’m stuck in a test…’. ‘Now I’m stuck in a test…’. ‘I need the toilet’. If the situation hadn’t been so public, both girls might have laughed. They had socially pressured each other; two people with the same needs, into a place where wetting themselves now was not an option. The room was silent, with not even the hum of a radiator to cover noise. The sound of the pee racing into their diapers; deliberate or accidental, would be noticed instantly. So, both girls resolved to wait for the next… 1:58:52 ‘Fuck’. As the minutes’ ticket by, Kelly and Allison tried to focus on their tests; distracting their brains with a mixture of scientific questions. Physics, reproduction in primates, the chemical compounds of enriched Uranium… none of it helped to distract them. Kelly could feel her bladder swelling, the dull, aching pain in her stomach growing worse, as her legs began to tremble again. She tried lightly swinging them to alleviate the pressure, yet it hardly helped and soon, she was nervously chewing on her pencil. Allison was faring no better. Her tight black skirt rubbed uncomfortably against her stomach and she was sweating, having to stop every few minutes to wipe her brow clean. Hands trembling slightly, she thought about asking the teacher if she; and Kelly too if she could help her, would be allowed to leave. Unfortunately, she knew test policy was not to allow that and Mr. Kensington had no idea of her condition. Only the headmaster and one P.E. teacher knew; the latter having nearly been fired after an incident where she had almost unwittingly revealed Allison’s diapers to the whole class. Mrs. Jones had been given a medical note, instructing her not to make Allison perform any gymnastics or dance lessons; both posing too high a risk for exposure. However, it had been the start of the year and she had forgotten the note; not believing Allison’s ‘medical exemption’ after years of fake student excuses. Her refusal to take part annoyed Mrs. Jones to the point that she had ordered Allison to clear away all the equipment at lesson’s end, something else she had refused to do; as several climbing frames had raised-storage platforms that could have exposed underneath her shorts when climbing a ladder. Fed up with her disobedience, Mrs. Jones had marched Allison to the headmaster’s office, only to be thoroughly chewed up and spit out for her stupidity. Allison had; reluctantly, allowed the teacher to be informed of her condition and since then, Mrs. Jones had been avoiding Allison profusely, humiliated and ashamed of themselves. Neither her, nor the headmaster were running this test however and Allison could feel the desperation growing. Squirming in her seat, trying to find a comfortable spot, she could feel the diaper rubbing against her bum; pressed tight against her by Allison’s fidgeting body. She smiled a little at that. It reminded her of how Max liked to grab her bum when she was wearing her diaper at home. This fond thought distracted her for a while, until a sharp pang of pain ripped through her bladder; causing Allison to have to bite her lip to prevent a moan. Looking up with dread, she saw the timer on the board and her heart sank. 1:24:31 ‘God I have to pee’. Both girls tried to focus on their test, however their growing desperation was completely throwing off any attempts to do so. Kelly’s legs were now shaking badly, though she tried to sit as still as possible, too ashamed to attract attention. That possibility had long since disappeared however, as she squirmed repeatedly; her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. ‘Please, I don’t want to wet myself. Please, please, please”. Kelly repeated this over and over again in her mind, yet the burning pain remained. Suddenly, she felt a spurt burst free from her; soaking into the fabric of her diaper for a full second before she could stop it. The leak made Kelly freeze completely still, while Allison looked up; her blood running cold, fearing Kelly was about to completely break. Several people looked up from their tests, though none looked towards Kelly, as they looked for the source of the sound. ‘Ignore that, it’s just the plumbing. Back to your tests’ said Mr Kensington ignorantly. While Mr. Kensington spoke, Allison used the opportunity to let a small amount leak out from herself. Hot pee flooded her diaper for a merciful two seconds, before she had to clamp her legs tightly shut. She could feel the wet patch in her diaper pushing against her trembling pussy, the piss soaking into her hairy pussy. When she was younger, that sensation of wetting in normal classes used to terrify her. Knowing that she was peeing herself like a little girl, mere ft. away from friends and classmates; it had left her on the verge of panic attacks for a long time. However, in most circumstances apart from these, she had grown used to it. In some, she’d even been able to find enjoyment. Often; when her boyfriend Max walked her home, she’d be desperate to use the toilet, if she hadn’t already used her diaper. If she had, Max would find somewhere private to change her on the way; occasionally taking certain liberties. Allison still blushed at the sight of half-a-dozen public changing rooms where Max’s fingers had found their way between her wet thighs. If she hadn’t and didn’t on the way back to one of their houses, they’d sit and watch a movie or make-out on her bed, Allison squirming on his lap or grinding desperately over his crotch; until she lost control. Whether or not she took off the diaper was dependant on time and if they were alone. If parents were in the house, it stayed on and she would simply let him touch it after; before getting changed in his bedroom’s en-suite. But if they were alone, then things often got much more wild. Sometimes, she’d change into a thin pair of underwear: Blue nylon, red thongs, white cotton, before dancing in front of him from desperation. He’d slide his large, throbbing cock out of his pants and Allison would feel herself get more and more turned on, encouraging him with dirty talk. She’d tell him how desperate she felt, how close she was to having an accident, his favourite expression being to hear her say: ‘I’m going to wet myself’. He’d cum more than once from that alone in the early days of their relationship and even after a while, watching Allison’s shivering, desperate body finally lose control, watching pee burst through her clenched fingers, soaking her panties and rolling down her legs in huge streams of wetness: It was often more than he could take. Allison would feel his cum cover her, streaking hot white strands over her legs, panties, face, shirt; boobs if she was shirtless, as well as all over the room. She loved the feeling of being covered in his cum, though knew that he went crazy if she swallowed and so, had let him cum down her throat many times, sliding his long manhood into her hot wet mouth, allowing him to burst and release inside her. If Allison couldn’t swallow it all, she’d have him finish the rest onto her tits; then lick it off afterwards. Max did not lack in generosity as a boyfriend. After she’d pleasured him, he always made sure to do the same for her and had driven her to more body-shattering orgasms than she could count. She woke up most days smiling when she thought of him, thrilled she had a boyfriend who had turned her frustrating condition into something so enjoyable. Even so, the thought of being exposed for not only wearing but wetting a diaper, at school; in a test, did not appeal to her in the slightest. She also was determined that it wouldn’t happen to Kelly: She’d been tasked with looking after her and she obviously shared her problems for a similar reason. Allison would not let humiliation befall either of them. She looked at the classroom board and gritted her teeth. 51:39 ‘I can make it’ said Allison, repeating it in her mind; over and over. ‘I can make it’. Kelly was telling herself similar mantras of determination and though both their desperation grew steadily worse, they continued to hold out; stubbornly, forcing themselves through, minute-by-minute, seconds at a time, just trying to hold out until lunch. 58, 50, 45, 35, 30, 20, 10… Those last few minutes proved to be the greatest agony; for both girls. Having given up even attempting to do their tests more than half-an-hour ago, Kelly and Allison were planning how quickly they could get to the nearest bathrooms, where they were; how much they could hold themselves without attracting too much attention. ‘I can do this’ thought Allison. ‘I can do this’ thought Kelly. Even so, their bodies looked far less sure. Kelly’s long legs were now practically bound together; wrapped like a spider’s web, shivering with a burning desperation and desire to pee. She had one hand tightly between her thighs, gripping her skirt and panties, pulling them against her clit intensely; trying to relax any of the agonising tension she felt. Allison meanwhile was fidgeting wildly, her bum wriggling repeatedly on her seat, as she practically chewed through her pencil in nervousness; leaving a dozen bite marks on it. Her large breasts were shaking, as were her hands and arms, her entire body fighting against itself. It felt like there was a burning red hot ball of lead in her bladder, scorching every muscle; desperate to force itself out. Both girls shivered with desperation, terrified that they wouldn’t be able to make the final few minutes. At any moment, they feared that awful sound of hissing, pee flooding into their thick wet, white pampers diapers, their classmates’ heads turning, everyone looking to see a student peeing, seeing nothing; their confusion for a brief moment, before the realisation came. Allison and Kelly could hear the laughter, the shock, the insults, all of it, as they fought desperately to hold on just a little bit longer… DING! Both girls were interrupted from their desperate trance, each of them spurting again briefly into their diapers, as a beeping sound filled the room; drowning out their leaks. ‘Alright, time’s up. The test is over, no more answers permitted. Place your pencils down and exit the class in an orderly fashion’. Mr Kensington’s words were spoken with boring, apathetic precision; having repeated them countless times before. To Allison and Kelly however, they could not have sounded sweeter and both turned to look at each other. Their eyes met and they nodded at each other. As people moved to the exit, Kelly and Allison rushed together; among the first to leave, before speed-walking close together, practically shoulder-to-shoulder, practically looking like old friends with how close together they were standing. ‘Allison, where are the toilets?’ asked Kelly desperately, any pretence of hiding her desperation; gone. ‘Two blocks from here, follow me’ said Allison. ‘Fuck, it hurts so much’ moaned Kelly quietly, tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t know if I can make it’. ‘We can do this, I promise’ said Allison reassuringly, though she couldn’t promise anything for herself either. The two tried to continue walking quickly to the block but it was hopeless. Their desperation had grown too great and they were reduced to awkwardly shuffling forward, a few steps at a time, before having to stop, leaning against a fence, wall or post, crossing their legs, hands buried in their skirts; only avoiding doing full pee-pee dances for the risk of nearby students spotting them. ‘Fuck’ moaned Kelly desperately, as another stream burst into her diaper. ‘I can’t do this’. ‘Come on, we’re nearly there’. Through sheer willpower alone, the two girls made it to H block; where the nearest bathrooms were. To make the final steps, they had to pass through a hallway; filled with two dozen milling students, where they couldn’t show any signs of visible desperation, lest they attract attention. Kelly; looking despondent at this, was only calmed when Allison interlocked their hands together and the two girls began walking through the hallway, gripping each other for support. With each step, the pain of being unable to hold their stomachs or between the legs, caused both of them untold agony. The pain was nearly unbearable and they were turning each other’s hands white, gripping them to the point of painfulness, yet it was ironically, the only relief they had. Just twenty more steps. Fifteen. Ten… ‘I’m so close’. ‘I’m so close’. ‘We’ve made i-NO!!!’. That last thought was simultaneous and equally as devastating for both girls. ‘THIS BATHROOM IS OUT OF ORDER’. Allison stared at the sign in shock and rage, freezing still, while tears rolled down Kelly’s face; her whole body vibrating with desperation. Her source of relief snatched away at the last minute, she couldn’t bear to hold on any longer. ‘Allison… I can’t hold on. I’m… wetting myself’. The words were practically a whisper; unheard by anyone else, yet Allison acted fast. Doing the only thing she could think of, she pulled Kelly and herself into a classroom; just as she felt the knot of tension in her own stomach break. As the door shut behind them, Allison turned around fearfully, knowing that if anyone was in her; they were about to be exposed to dozens of students. Fearfully lifting her eyes, Allison felt herself gasp with relief as she looked in front of her: Empty. One second later, Allison Clofield and Kelly Madison began to wet themselves. A loud hissing sound filled the room, both girls shaking with desperate relief, as hot pee flooded from their bodies. Hours of water bottles, sweat and stress poured out in-between their legs, soaking the thick material of the pampers instantly, causing each of their diapers to expand. Kelly began to cry, overwhelmed by emotion; unused to wetting herself in front of people, though she’d have been 1000x more horrified if it was anyone but Allison. Even so, sobs of emotion wracked her body, convulsions causing wave after wave of shivering to pass through. Both of their diapers were beginning to sag, the golden floods showing little sign of stopping. Kelly’s trimmed, hairless pussy caused the streams to burst through more intensely, though only the bottom half of her pussy was now soaking, while Allison’s hairier one left her feeling drenched at every part of her body below her thighs and above the knees. She could feel the pulsating feeling against her clit, the relief sending pleasurable tingles throughout her body, as her nipples hardened from relief alone. ‘God I’m getting as bad as Max’ thought Allison, feeling the wetness spread through her diaper. ‘He’d be so horny right now. Two girls wetting themselves into diapers. He’d have us both naked in seconds’. The thought of Kelly naked and; strangely, being fucked against the wall by her boyfriend sent a bolt of pleasure through Allison’s body, nearly making her cum on the spot, causing her to blush with embarrassment. Kelly meanwhile, was lost to thought at all, simply savouring; yet despairing, at the relief she was now feeling. It made her feel weak and childish to be having such a public accident, even if only one other was watching. She’d worked so hard over the years to avoid this kind of problem, yet here she was; first day at a new school, already suffering her most public accident in years. It was humiliating and she continued to cry, falling onto her knees, as her diaper began to heavily sag. Allison moaned in relief as she began to slowly feel her wetting come to a stop, her diaper having expanded massively and now wet to the touch. A few streams were still coming through, here and there, but her legs were now beginning to stop shaking and she could feel the fog of desperation and relief in her mind begin to clear. Finally, able to think properly again, she saw Kelly crying in front of her and approached, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder; as the girl finished her accident. Kelly’s diaper had taken a rougher beating. Her accident was still going strong and; unable to contain any further flooding, was now spilling her pee onto the floor. Allison saw a small puddle expand around Kelly’s legs, soaking her tights and legs, as Allison thought fast and quickly pulled Kelly’s skirt up higher; preventing it from being splashed by pee. A few moments later, the new girl’s wetting finally slowed and then, seconds after, halted entirely, leaving Kelly; a sobbing wreck, sitting in a puddle of her own urine, having wet her diaper, soaked herself and leaving a wet mess on the floor. ‘It’s okay’ said Allison soothingly, rubbing her shoulders. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I lost control too, you don’t have to be scared’. ‘I’m such a fucking baby’ said Kelly, still too frustrated to focus on anything except her embarrassing loss of control. ‘No you’re not, you held on for hours and no one else saw’. ‘I’m covered in pee!’ she protested. ‘Everyone’s going to see’. ‘Stand up’ said Allison gently. Kelly did not move, still wallowing in self-pity. ‘Kelly, stand up. I can help’ said Allison soothingly, though more firmly. This time, Kelly seemed to hear her and did as she was asked. Allison stared at her for a moment. Kelly’s eyes were puffy red, her shoulders sagged and body hunched with exhaustion. Pee was dripping off her legs and tights, yet her skirt and even her shoes were mostly fine, which Allison knew would be the key. Moving Kelly out of the puddle, she took off the girl’s shoes and; with her permission, removed her soaking tights, stuffing them into a corner of her own backpack. Then, she removed a packet of tissues and quickly wiped down Kelly’s legs, clearing them of pee and dripping streaks on her shoes and socks. After a handful of minutes, Kelly didn’t even look like she’d had an accident at all; much to her shock. ‘You’re so much better at this recovery stuff than I am’ snivelled Kelly. ‘I’m used to it, me and my boyfriend know how to clean ourselves up quickly’. ‘Your boyfriend? He wears diapers too?’. Allison blushed, realising that she had revealed her and Max’s activities. She considered lying but; considering how much Kelly had already seen and done, figured that was unnecessary. ‘No, he, um… he likes it’. ‘Likes what?’. ‘He likes that I wear them. Diapers, I mean. He likes that I get desperate. He even likes when I wet myself’. Allison cringed, preparing for Kelly to call her a freak but the word’s never came. Instead, Kelly stared in awe. ‘God, I wish I had a boyfriend like that’ admitted Kelly. ‘My ex Tommy revealed I wore diapers to everyone at my old school. It’s part of why we moved’. ‘Kelly, I’m so sorry’ said Allison, appalled. ‘He’s a piece of shit but I promise, there’s guys out there who aren’t such assholes’. ‘I hope so’ smiled Kelly at the thought. ‘What are we going to do about these?’. ‘We’d best get changed somewhere else’ said Allison. ‘Someone could still come in here at any moment, its best if we find some working toilets somewhere else’. Kelly nodded. ‘What about the puddle?’. Allison thought for a moment, then looked through the classroom’s rubbish bin. Finding a half empty water bottle, she poured the rest onto the puddle; then left the bottle next to the puddle, the lid dropped next to it. ‘Allison, you’re a genius’ beamed Kelly, smiling passionately for the first time in hours. Allison blushed modestly, as the two girls began walking towards the disabled bathrooms; halfway across the school, where they could freshen up in a more secluded area. They mostly walked in silence, happy to have each other’s company, feeling mutually safe with someone they could trust. However, towards the end, Kelly asked something that took Allison’s breath away. ‘Hey Allison?’. ‘Yeah Kelly?’. ‘I… I kind of need a favour’. ‘Well… I’m not used to changing myself when this… wet and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it properly’. ‘Oh’. ‘Yeah… would you mind… changing me?’. The words sent a chill down Allison’s spine and practically hardened her nipples in seconds. The thought of sliding Kelly’s sodden, pee-soaked diaper, carefully down her legs; where moving it too quickly could re-soak her, was unbelievably erotic to Allison. She didn’t know what Kelly’s pussy looked like but she wanted to see it: Wet, dripping with pee, more than anything right now. Her face turned bright red from her own dirty-mindedness. What would Max think if he could see her right now? ‘He’d love this’ thought Allison. ‘I’m sorry, that was totally weird, I shouldn’t have asked, I-’. ‘No, please, Kelly, don’t apologise’ said Allison sweetly. Kelly looked towards her, as Allison smiled. ‘I’d be happy to change you’. THE END
  6. Hello! This is my first post, though I've been a long time user. My name is Emilia, most people call me Em for short. I'm freshly 19, bi (leaning towards the ladies, what can I say), and missing omo and wetting myself so much :( if anyone wants to request videos or chat with me my private email is [email protected] Hopefully y'all can make me feel welcome! -Em
  7. Wrote this over summer. There will be seven chapters total. Incest isn't normally my thing, but neither is age play and yet here we are. lol! I hope you enjoy it. —————————— Chapter 1. Sammy woke with a start and found that he was peeing. Rather than trying to cut off the flow, he let it happen. He was wearing a pull-up, after all. He sighed. It was the third time this week, and it was only Thursday. He no longer wet himself every night, though he wouldn’t bother getting up and going to the bathroom if he needed to pee when he woke up. He’d been having the same dream as the other times. He’d been walking down a wooded path, hand in hand with his twin brother, Robbie, when he suddenly felt the urge to pee. In the dream, they were little boys, maybe six or seven. ‘I have to pee, Robbie,’ said little Sammy. ‘We gotta keep walking,’ little Robbie replied. ‘Just pee in your pants, it’s okay.’ Little Sammy in the dream had peed in his pants, and real world Sammy had woken up, still peeing. Sammy looked at his phone, which lay on the bedside table. It was only six, too early to get up for school. Looking at the date, he suddenly realised that today was his birthday; his and Robbie’s both. Today, they turned eighteen. He shifted in his bed, lying back down. The pull-up, warm and wet, shifted with him, rubbing against his crotch and making his dick hard. He palmed himself, listening for Robbie’s breathing in the bunk above him. It sounded like he was still asleep, so Sammy quietly got himself off, biting his lip when he came. Then he got out of bed, ready for a shower. ‘Happy birthday, Sammy,’ said a voice, and Sammy turned to look at his twin, who peered down at him from the top bunk, grinning. ‘Happy birthday, Robbie,’ Sammy replied with a smile. ‘Okay if I get the first shower?’ ‘Be my guest.’ Robbie yawned. ‘I’m not even fully awake yet.’ Sammy grabbed his bathrobe, wondering vaguely if Robbie had heard him get off. Not that it mattered. They were twins, after all. They’d hit puberty at the same time, shared a room their whole lives, they’d jerked off together on more than one occasion. Sammy and Robbie were identical. They had the same auburn hair and hazel eyes, the same freckles, and they were both exactly the same height. Their own family had a hard time telling them apart when they were little, not to mention strangers. But that was where the similarities ended. Where Robbie was boisterous and outgoing, Sammy was timid and withdrawn. While Robbie enjoyed physical activity and team sports, Sammy preferred more artistic pursuits, like drawing and writing. Robbie had many friends, whereas Sammy spent most of his time alone. Sammy’s only real friend was Robbie. As they grew older, they got easier to tell apart, thanks to Robbie’s athleticism. They were both tall, but where Sammy was slim and willowy, Robbie was strong and muscular, with broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks. Sammy envied his brother his body sometimes and often found himself admiring it when he sat sketching by the track at school, waiting for Robbie to finish training. Identical or not, Sammy knew Robbie was by far the hotter of the two of them, and the girls at school seemed inclined to agree. He took off the pull-up and disposed of it before getting in the shower. Sammy had wet the bed his whole life. His and Robbie’s mom had passed away before they turned four, and Sammy’s potty training had never quite taken. Their father, Greg, hadn’t bothered with it. He didn’t much care for children in the first place, and with his wife gone, he paid little attention to his sons, especially Sammy. Robbie was much tougher than his brother and did all the things Greg felt a man ought to do, and so Greg grew to be proud of him, but Sammy was always a disappointment. Greg more or less ignored him, except to punish him. Sammy had to endure more than a few beatings from his father when he’d wet himself as a child, which had happened frequently. Sammy eventually learned to hold his bladder in the daytime, but but never at night, and so he wore diapers to bed. Through everything, Robbie had been on his side. He’d stood up for Sammy against their father and bullies alike. Sammy remembered peeing his pants in the school yard when he was six, and Robbie, already stronger than most other kids, standing between him and the bullies, warning them off, while Sammy cried with embarrassment and shame. After his shower, Sammy returned to the bedroom to find his brother still in bed. ‘Took your time, didn’t you?’ said Robbie and grinned. He climbed down and ruffled Sammy’s wet hair. ‘I gotta piss real bad. Envy you those diapers sometimes, Sammy.’ Sammy blushed, looking away. ‘You shouldn’t. They suck.’ Robbie’s smile softened. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I was just kidding.’ He hugged Sammy close. ‘So, you looking forward to Saturday?’ Sammy smiled. ‘You are, that’s all that matters.’ ‘Don’t be so negative, it’ll be fun.’ Robbie pulled on his bathrobe. ‘Yvana will be there.’ He smirked. Sammy shook his head and looked down. ‘So what?’ ‘So she likes you, is what!’ Robbie laughed. ‘Don’t you think it’s time you started dating?’ ‘Yeah, ’cause girls love guys who wet the bed,’ Sammy mumbled. Robbie sighed. ‘Fine, I won’t push. Still, it’s our eighteenth birthday party. I intend to make sure you have a good time. Okay, little brother?’ ‘You were born five minutes before me,’ Sammy pointed out with a laugh. ‘Still makes me older.’ Robbie laughed too, then left the room. Sammy sighed and began to get dressed. Robbie was always going on about girls, but Sammy had never been able to understand what all the fuss was about. When puberty came and went and Sammy still had no interest in girls, he’d wondered if he might be gay, but boys didn’t really interest him either. When he got off, he didn’t think of anyone in particular; he just thought of getting off. Going downstairs, he found Greg in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. ‘Morning, Dad,’ said Sammy. He received a non-committal grunt in reply. Shrugging, Sammy went over to the fridge and got out some milk for his cereal. He grabbed a bowl and filled it with cornflakes and milk, then sat down at the table. He was halfway through the bowl when Robbie showed up. ‘Morning, Dad,’ he said brightly. ‘Morning,’ said Greg, finally closing the newspaper. ‘I guess I should say happy birthday.’ ‘Thanks,’ said Robbie, smiling. ‘Yeah. Thanks, Dad,’ Sammy mumbled. ‘Here.’ Greg reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. He passed it to Robbie. ‘For both of you, I guess, but you hold onto it, Robert.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said Robbie. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Aren’t you gonna say thanks?’ said Greg, glaring at Sammy. ‘Thank you,’ said Sammy. ‘That’s real nice of you, Dad.’ ‘What’s real nice is that I let you both stay here until you finish high school,’ said Greg. ‘That’s what’s real nice. I guess you can stay until Rob goes to college, he’ll get that scholarship. But your useless ass better pay rent over summer, boy, and when Rob goes, you go, whether you go to college or not. So make sure you hold onto that job of yours.’ Sammy lowered his gaze and nodded. Greg rarely called him by name. He always called him ‘boy’ or, to Robbie, ‘your brother’, and to other people he said ‘my other son’. Sammy sometimes wondered if his father even remembered his given name. # ‘Hey.’ Robbie put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder as they left the house. ‘Don’t let him get to you, okay? He’s a jerk.’ ‘He’s right, though,’ said Sammy with a shrug. ‘You’ll get a sports scholarship, but I’ll never be able to afford to go to college.’ ‘Don’t say that,’ said Robbie. ‘There are lots of different scholarships out there. Maybe there’s an arts one. We’ll talk to the guidance counsellor, we’ll figure it all out.’ ‘Yeah, maybe. But whatever else happens, the fact remains that come fall, the two of us will probably be split up.’ ‘Now there’s a depressing thought,’ said Robbie. ‘Not sure how I’ll get through college without you.’ Sammy laughed. ‘You’ll be fine. Maybe I can move with you and become a townie or something, get a job at a gas station. I dunno. Something. ’Cause I can’t stay here.’ ‘Well, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,’ said Robbie. ‘Don’t you mean cross it?’ ‘Sure.’ Robbie grinned. ‘We’ll cross it, and then we’ll burn the motherfucker behind us.’ # ‘Are we lost?’ Sammy looked around him. He was walking along a wooded path, and Robbie walked next to him. Robbie took his hand. ‘No, I know where we’re going.’ He smiled. The trees looked so big, and Sammy realised it was because he was small. Six years old, maybe seven. So was Robbie. The sun was setting and Sammy heard a crow caw somewhere in the distance. ‘I’m scared. It’s getting dark.’ Sammy felt his eyes well up with tears. ‘Don’t worry, little brother,’ Robbie said reassuringly. ‘We’re almost home, and I’ll protect you. I promise.’ Sammy nodded, feeling calmer. He continued down the path, hand in hand with his twin. He fidgeted. ‘I gotta pee, Robbie.’ ‘We have to keep walking,’ said Robbie. ‘Just pee in your pants. It’s okay.’ That seemed the most logical solution in the world just then, so Sammy let go and peed his pants. ‘Sammy?’ said Robbie. ‘Mhm?’ ‘Sammy! Dude, wake up!’ Sammy snorted awake. Robbie was shaking him. ‘Huh?’ He blinked, looking around bleary-eyed, and soon realised two things. Firstly, he was in class, and secondly, he was peeing. ‘Oh fuck!’ He covered his face with his hands, flushed deep red, and tried to cut off the flow, but his pants were already soaked and pee was dripping from the chair into a puddle on the floor. He heard whispers around him. ‘Oh, no, no, no!’ he whimpered. ‘What is going on back there?’ the teacher called. ‘Sam’s pissing his pants,’ said Konrad, one of their classmates, failing to contain a snicker. ‘Shut up, Konrad!’ Robbie hissed. ‘Sammy, are you okay?’ Sammy just shook his head. He heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps approaching. ‘Oh dear!’ said the teacher’s voice. ‘Sam, are you all right?’ ‘I’m sorry!’ Sammy’s voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘Robert, take a hall pass,’ the teacher said, ‘and take Sam to go change.’ ‘Yes, Ms. Gillingham,’ said Robbie. ‘Come on, Sammy.’ He took Sammy’s hand, pulling it away from his face. Sammy’s eyes were brimming with tears. His humiliation was complete. He had peed his pants in class on his eighteenth birthday. Robbie pulled him along to his locker so he could retrieve his gym clothes to change into, then took him to a handicap bathroom. He turned his back while Sammy changed. ‘What happened?’ he asked softly. ‘I dunno.’ Sammy sniffed, trying not to break down completely. ‘I . . . I fell asleep and when I woke up I was . . .’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘Fuck . . . how could this happen?’ ‘Hey, calm down. It happens.’ ‘Does it? Oh god, how will I ever face any of them again?’ ‘You’ll face ’em fine,’ said Robbie. ‘They’ll all have forgotten about it by tomorrow.’ Sammy scoffed. ‘Yeah. Sure. A senior in high school pissing his pants in class is totally the kind of thing you forget about the next day.’ ‘They’ll forget about it cause I’ll make them forget about it. All right? Now, just get changed and then go see the nurse. Say you’re not feeling well and need to go home.’ Sammy nodded. ‘Yeah. Okay.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll go back to class, clean up, and get your things. You don’t gotta worry about anything, okay, bro?’ ‘Okay. Thanks, Robbie.’ Robbie gave him a crooked smile and ruffled his hair. ‘What are twins for?’ # Class was nearly over by the time Robbie returned. He’d gone for cleaning supplies so he could clean up Sammy’s mess. He sat in his seat and waited the ten minutes that remained, struggling to focus on what the teacher was saying. When it was over, he started cleaning. ‘Robbie?’ Robbie looked up. ‘Oh. Hey, Yvana. Hey, Cilly.’ ‘Is Sam okay?’ Yvana asked softly. ‘I feel so bad for him.’ ‘Yeah. He wasn’t feeling well so he went home.’ ‘No wonder.’ Yvana bit her lip. ‘I hope he feels better in time for the party. I’d hate for him to miss his own birthday celebration.’ ‘Thanks.’ Robbie smiled. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine before then. He’s just not been sleeping well.’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Cilly. ‘Why not?’ ‘Bad dreams, I think. He doesn’t know that I know.’ ‘Then how do you know?’ Yvana asked. ‘I know everything about him.’ Robbie dropped the pee soaked rag in the bucket and made to go wash his hands. ‘Hey, Robbie?’ Yvana said. Cilly had left, but the blonde remained. ‘If you know everything about him . . . Do you know if he likes me?’ Robbie made a face. ‘That’s the one thing I don’t know. I know you like him, though.’ Another girl might have blushed, but Yvana only grinned. ‘That obvious, am I?’ ‘Only to me,’ said Robbie with a shrug. ‘Will you tell him I said to feel better?’ ‘Of course. I’ll let him know.’ # Sammy was in his bed when Robbie got home. He was wearing a pull-up. He hardly dared anything else, in case he fell asleep and wet himself again. He was awake, though, and looked up at Robbie as he entered. ‘Hey, Sammy.’ Robbie smiled gently. ‘How are you feeling?’ Sammy shrugged and sniffed. ‘Embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated. Take your pick.’ ‘It’s not that bad,’ said Robbie. ‘You had an accident. It happens to the best of us.’ ‘Yeah? When was the last time you feel asleep and pissed yourself in class?’ Sammy sighed. ‘I’ve been thinking. I don’t think I should go to the party on Saturday.’ ‘What? Why not?’ ‘It’ll just be awkward. No one’s gonna want me there. Besides . . . They’re all your friends.’ ‘That’s not true.’ Robbie sat down at the edge of the bed. ‘They like you. Everyone wants you to be there. Lots of people came and asked if you were okay and everything.’ ‘They laughed at me,’ Sammy pointed out. Robbie rolled his eyes. ‘Konrad laughed at you, and he’s not invited. I didn’t hear anyone who’s gonna be at the party laughing at you. Some were worried, but no one laughed. Yvana and Cilly came up to me after class to ask if you were okay.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Well, yeah. Yvana wanted to make sure you were still coming to the party. She said to tell you to feel better soon. She still likes you. Plenty of people like you.’ He sighed. ‘But if you don’t want to go, we’ll cancel.’ ‘Cancel?’ ‘Sammy, I’m not celebrating my eighteenth birthday without you. It’s your day too, and I want it to be special.’ ‘What if I’m sick?’ Sammy tried. Robbie laughed. ‘Then there definitely won’t be a party. No way am I gonna celebrate my birthday while the person who shares it is at home sick.’ Sammy felt conflicted. The fact that Robbie would cancel if Sammy couldn’t be there filled him with gratitude and joy, but it also made him feel guilty. How could he ruin Robbie’s birthday party for him like that? He couldn’t let that happen. ‘Okay.’ Sammy tried to smile. ‘I’ll come to the party.’ Robbie’s face broke into a grin. ‘Awesome! I’m so glad. Thanks, Sammy. You’ll have a great time too. I’ll make sure of it.’ Sammy sat up. ‘I have to get ready for work.’ ‘You could call in sick,’ said Robbie. ‘If you’re not up to it.’ Sammy shook his head. ‘I called in last week. You heard Dad. I can’t lose this job.’
  8. Hey everyone! My name's Jane and when I was 15, I witnessed a wetting that is to this day, the best one i've ever seen. (Outside of porn. Better than most porn too honestly) During my early teenage years, I was a pretty... experimentative girl but I was; and still am, incredibly shy, so I was constantly frustrated by wanting to do loads more than I was getting the chance. Honestly, it annoys the hell out of me when guys say during their teenage years that they were constantly frustrated by girls not giving them attention. Um, hello?! You think we're not! OPEN. YOUR. EYES. Anyway. My best friend; i'll call her Izzy, is honestly the coolest girl I know. She came out as bisexual in my town at 16 and caused a MASSIVE scandal but didn't give two shits: She can paint, play the guitar and she's basically like my idol, I honestly love her so much and wouldn't even be on this site if not for what i'm about to describe. At the time, she had long red curly hair, wore a tonne of makeup and rocked it like a QUEEN and was constantly half-in, half out of a mid 2000's Goth phase. She also has GREAT boobs; even then, like "Teachers sending her out the room because she wouldn't adjust her open shirt, which boys were staring at constantly" type good. So, we're hanging out in the woods; definitely not smoking joints where our parents couldn't supervise us, around ******* and Izzy mentions she has to pee pretty badly, starts smirking at me and making me blush. She'd found out about my wetting kink the month before when; no joke, she literally walked in on me peeing through my school uniform in my room. She has a spare key, I didn't hear her come in and by the time I noticed her, i'd halfway soaked my tights, skirt and was standing in a puddle; clearly doing it on purpose. I was SO embarrassed and mortified, I had a full on panic attack at the time as I thought she'd stop being friends with me but she just told me I was a: "Weird, kinky bitch but I still love you". Anyway, that day Izzy's in a tight red crop-top and black jeans and goes: "I honestly can't be fucked to walk all the way back right now". I laughed. "You gonna piss your pants then?" Izzy started laughing and went into a mock display of desperation, pushing herself against a nearby tree like a 50's pinup model: "Oh Jane, I need to go, save me; before I have an accident!". I started bawling with laughter; it might have been funnier on weed, but the way she said it was honestly such an en-pointe pisstake (No pun intended) of so much wetting porn i'd seen before and since, in the voices. I continued to howl as she stripped off her jeans, clutching at her panties; which were these red cottons, as she did these super-over exaggerated pee-dance moves; like a goose step march mixed with a classic desperate squirming; I was genuinely crying with laughter. She squatted down, her bum barely above the ground and put one finger to her lip; gasping like a generic movie bimbo as I continued laughing but then suddenly, stopped almost immediately as I saw what she was doing: Her red cotton panties had a large wet spot on them, growing by the second as a long stream of piss rushed through them; soaking into the leaves and forest below. I was completely silent, watching in awe and actually shaking with horniness as she continued to wet herself right in front of me; her pee forming a puddle around her that ran under her shoes as she quickly threw her stripped off jeans over a nearby branch. It was spectacular to watch and as it slowed; finally stopping after the best half a minute of my life, Izzy looked up. "Oops" she said; winking. "I can't believe you just did that!". "Eh, it will dry and thought you could do with some fun; since you refuse to get any action". "Fuck you, i'm trying!". "Jane, looking at Matt's ass all day in P.E. does not count as getting some. Anyway, come over then!". I walked over and Izzy grabbed my hand; placing it over her soaked panties, the drenched fabric, the gentle wet folds of her I could feel underneath: It was honestly the most arousing thing i'd ever felt and Izzy took notice of my reaction. "Alright Jane, calm down, you look like you're about to cum; at least take me out to dinner first!". I blushed so badly after that and Izzy teased me for a while; chucking off her panties and hanging them on a nearby branch to dry, she kept flashing me like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct and that really did nothing to help calm me down. Once she eventually went home, I swear I fingered myself into fucking oblivion; I literally had to scream into a pillow for over an hour, so my parents didn't realise what I was doing. My pussy felt like it was on fire but fuck me, the relief I got from it was insane. So yeah, that is by far the best and sadly one of the few wettings i've witnessed. Not the only! But one of the few.
  9. Hey everyone! Jane here! So, this is an extract from my first Amazon Omorashi story. Thought i'd give you all an exclusive sample extract and if you like it, then I hope you'll consider purchasing the full thing from Amazon for only £0.99. Hope you all enjoy! I've attached a link to the full story below. THE DESPERATE CHEERLEADERS Back when we started college, Alice and I signed up for the cheerleading squad and both got on. I liked it, the outfits are cute, the team players are often SUPER HOT and it keeps us fit but I grew to really enjoy it for another reason. You see, the windows for cheerleaders to use bathrooms during matches are basically non-existent thanks to the dumb game policies and the only times to really use them are after the match, when dozens of other girls are thinking the same thing. As well as that, the female coach always makes the girls come together into the girls changing rooms first and give us a review of how we’ve done. Often, I’d see half a dozen or more girls that every guy under the sun wants to get their pants off, probably minutes away from pissing straight through them. They squirm around desperately, their legs crossed tight until they can finally make a mad dash for the loos a few steps away from the changing room. It’s really hot, though until today, they’d always held on; at least in terms of having any visible losses of control. It was an especially hot day and so everyone had loaded up with water pre-game. As the match went on, we cheered and danced our hearts out: Our black and white uniforms kicking up as we did our steps, flashing our red underwear; all our team’s colours. It seemed to inspire our players, as we secured a last minute victory that sent the crowd wild. We all piled into the changing rooms, the usual culprits desperate as ever and the coach gave her little speech; clearing out. However, as she did, the door slammed shut with an unusual thud, catching everyone’s attention. Alice went to check it out and when she turned back, she looked pale: “The door is busted!”. The other girls rushed over trying to budge the door; however, it was jammed, a piece of the metal allowing it to turn had sheared straight off, probably from not being maintained well enough. As this realisation sunk in, girls began banging at the door, calling for help however the lockers were sound-proofed after years of graduation pranks where people had set off firecrackers that disrupted the whole college. No one could hear us and it would be ages before anyone realised what had happened and then even longer until they could help. As the minutes passed, several girls began to squirm on the benches, standing or wherever they were in the rooms. Alice was among them, her ass shaking as she repeatedly crossed her legs back and forth; pacing the room, complaining about the “Fucking useless doors”. Another was our lead cheerleader, Sindy. A tall, thin black girl with brown hair and green eyes, everyone agreed she was among the most gorgeous girls among the team and right now, she was also among the most desperate, one hand stuffed between her cheerleading skirt as she rocked back and forth; clearly sweating with the effort of holding for so long. The most desperate however, was Isabel. Isabel Brians was squirming openly, frequently holding herself and repeatedly saying: “God I’m desperate” and “I can’t hold it” over and over. Her legs were shaking, her tits; larger even than Alice’s, were bouncing freely in her uniform and if I was right, she probably only had minutes left before she started leaking; maybe even completely lost control. Isabel was one of the most sought after girls in college, she’d just come out of a six-month relationship where if the guys were to be believed; though they often chat complete shit, Isabel could apparently give blowjobs better than any other girl at college, her ex claiming she’d give them daily when together: In their rooms, his car, the nearby creek and forest; even twice in a McDonalds Bathroom. If the last part was true, then she probably wished she was there right about now. Suddenly, we all heard a scream and turned: It was Alice and I watched shocked as rivers of pee began to pour out through her red panties, which were on full display as she soaked them; the long streams running down her legs, as she gripped the nearby rack for support, so she didn’t collapse into her own growing puddle. The other girls stepped away, cries of shock ringing out: “Oh my God Alice!”. “What the hell!”. “Oh don’t, I need to go even worse now!”. “Holy shit, you had to go Alice!”. “Stop it!”. “I can’t!” was Alice’s reply to the last one and she clearly couldn’t, her legs trembling as the most public wetting accident I’d ever seen continued... TO BE CONTINUED... https://www.amazon.co.uk/DESPERATE-CHEERLEADERS-Jane-Jones-ebook/dp/B084LGDMVL/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3UNNUQ8NUFE60&keywords=desperate+cheerleaders&qid=1582418952&sprefix=Desperate+Cheerle%2Caps%2C175&sr=8-1
  10. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time so I’ll just kinda get to the point. I’ve been struggling with how I identify, especially since quarantine began. I identify as Bisexual, or at least I have since I was about 13 or 14, which means over the years I’ve had a lot of time to try to find the label that feels just right. However, quarantine kind of destroyed the confidence I had in identifying as Bisexual. Now, I’m questioning if I’m just a straight up Lesbian or maybe Pansexual. The human I like currently identifies as non binary but they’re kinda questioning that and I’m not sure their gender matters, I like them for who they are, but if gender doesn’t matter to me then I should identify as Pansexual, right? Also to add on to this mess I’ve never really been attracted to people sexually unless it’s through this kink, and even then the whole sex thing isn’t that appealing to me., so I’m not sure if I’m Biromantic or if I’m Asexual. Also, there’s so many other labels I think I fit under but I don’t understand completely, so I don’t really want to official label myself as any of them. I know sexuality is fluid and I don’t really need a label, but I still want one just the same. I guess my question is does anyone have on tips on figuring it all out? I know that the process of figuring out your identity is pretty unique to each person, but I’m so lost and confused and I’m not sure where to go from here. Can anyone relate?
  11. Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this, my longest EVER commission for Omorashi.org, clocking in at OVER 22,000 words! If you want one commissioned for yourself, please DM me! Otherwise, enjoy! THE MARVEL HYPNOSIS CRISIS Kamala Khan raced through the city, stretching her arms out in several punching attacks; trying to strike her nemesis. Unfortunately, Becky was fast and her plasma armour’s speed made cornering her difficult. Kamala’s fists smashed uselessly against walls, bins and one very unlucky pigeon, however, she soon spotted an opening. As her arch-nemesis fled inside a building, she activated the speed dial on her mobile. ‘Nakia, Zoe, Becky’s gone inside the building! Cut her off!’ said Kamala, preparing her body to break into the building; inflating her fists to the size of trash cans. ‘Let’s get this bitch’. Zoe’s words were immediately followed by the sound of Kamala’s fists punching through solid brick wall, as she raced inside. She was prepared for a fight, her classic superhero gear; based on her idol, Carol Danvers: A red, yellow and blue bodysuit, though her bottom half was largely red-tights and thick blue boots, yet it never dulled her enthusiasm for saving lives. Even if she didn’t look as good as Carol doing it, something Kamala had said to others at least a million times was: ‘Totally impossible, she’s perfect!’, she never stopped trying. Today, was another opportunity to prove that. Kamala’s arch-nemesis: ‘Lockdown’; though her real name was Rebecca St. Jude, had robbed a bank of several million dollars just over a month ago, using the money to fund some two-bit supervillain tech that Kamala and her friends had tracked to this abandoned apartment building. Nakia and Zoe were dressed in their tacky but enthusiastic Ms. Marvel costumes, ready to help their friend. ‘Embiggen!’ shouted Kamala, as she grew herself to be 8ft. tall; before smashing a wall that separated Lockdown from the trio of heroes. Unfortunately, they had walked right into her trap. For less than a second, Kamala, Nakia and Zoe could see they were staring at an advanced hypnosis machine; all three of them trapped within the chamber, while Becky stood at the other side of its harmful rays. She’d been playing with them the whole time and though Kamala tried to fight it, with seconds; all three heroes had been frozen. They could only stare in horror, as the ginger haired villainess approached them. Her shiny blue plasma armour glinted in the dim light, while her smile shone with evil; contemptuous malice. Even on her freckled face, it was still incredibly horrifying in its cruelty. ‘Well then. Now that I have you three under my command… let’s try some simple commands… stand on one foot!’. All three heroines instantly obliged, despite their minds screaming at them not to. ‘Zoe, spank Nakia’s ass’ said Lockdown; indulging in her petty, yet dangerous levels of power and personal hatred. Zoe’s head collided against Nakia’s bum less than one-second later, with both women internally blushing and cringing; yet Lockdown was in charge now. All they could do was try to fight, yet the effects were too powerful. ‘Nakia, run into that wall’. Immediately, Nakia began sprinting towards the far-left wall and after several seconds, crashed into it with a painful thud; falling, in pain, against the floor. Lockdown laughed cruelly. ‘Oh this is going to be fun… hmm? For you Kamala… let’s see… wet yourself’. Kamala’s eyes widened as she felt her body respond, despite every order in her brain screaming to disobey. But it was too late. Kamala found her arms and legs trembling badly, before she felt streams of hot, thick piss running down her red tights, sliding into her boots and forming a puddle around her. Lockdown’s eyes widened in shock; before she broke into laughter; the horrible kind that comes from a bully with power. ‘You’ll do anything I say… oh… OH THIS SHALL BE FUN’. THE NEXT MORNING Kamala Khan’s eyes slowly drifted open, moaning from the aches and pains in her body, as she looked around. She was in her dorm room with her friends Zoe and Nakia, both in sleeping bags at either side of her bed. Zoe was wearing a dark blue pair of pyjamas, Nakia, a green-eco-friendly pair with symbols of green-peace on it. Everything seemed normal, though Kamala felt strange. ‘How did we get here? What happened? Why can’t I remember last night?’. Feeling freaked out, Kamala looked around the room for any clues as to why her memory was gone and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her room’s wooden cabinet: Resting on top of a replica of Captain America’s shield were half a dozen empty vodka bottles and as her groggy mind properly woke up, she could see a bunch of glasses around the room. Kamala breathed a sigh of relief. Now she remembered what had happened: They were celebrating Lockdown’s recent imprisonment, largely thanks to their exposure of her crimes. Clearly, they had let their celebrations get too out of hand. ‘God, superheroes should not be allowed to get this drun- OW, my head’ said Kamala, moaning from the hangover; an intense splitting sensation between her eyes. ‘This is going to be a fun morning’. Over the next half hour, Zoe and Nakia were slowly coaxed back to the land of the living, a mixture of water bottles and cold flannels giving them the ability to think somewhat clearly again. ‘I can’t believe we got so wasted!’ said Nakia, shocked. ‘Honestly, this isn’t even that bad compared to what I used to do’ said Zoe. ‘I’m not proud of it anymore’ she said defensively, as Nakia gave her a judging look. ‘But frat parties are wild, so I’m kind of used to it’. ‘I swear, I am never drinking again’ said Kamala, still trying to nurse the headache from her skull. ‘Lies!’ said Nakia and Zoe simultaneously, laughing. Over the next few minutes, the girls got dressed and went their separate ways; continuing on with their normal days. However, Zoe and Nakia soon began to notice that something wasn’t right. Zoe was out shopping, looking for a new pair of crop shorts; hoping to impress Nakia, when she began to feel an uncomfortable twinge in her bladder. ‘Piss off’ she muttered; not seeing the irony, as she continued to look for new outfits. However, as time went on, she found more and more of her attention being distracted. Despite not usually struggling with her bladder, Zoe found herself swaying on her feet; doing a slight pee-pee dance behind the changing room curtains, as she changed between blue and red crop shorts, tried on different shirts and generally wondered how much she could spend on her credit card before her overdraft ran out. During this time however, her bladder let her get no peace. Now desperately crossing her legs, Zoe realised that she had badly underestimated her need to go and stumbled from the changing room, one hand down her tight blue crop shorts, trying to hold on for long enough to find the toilets. Spotting them across the food court, Zoe breathed a sigh of relief and began squirming towards them; still desperately holding herself like a little girl, as children and parents alike stared at her disapprovingly. ‘God this is so cringe!’ thought Zoe, as she reached the halfway point towards the toilets. ‘I look like a little fucking girl. Well, at least I’m nearly… no! Oh my god no! Zoe felt a burst of pee spray through her fingers, soaking the red panties underneath her crop shorts; while leaving a golf-ball sized wet spot on her shorts. Freezing still, more people turned to stare in confusion and then in shock, as they saw glistening wet patches running down the college student’s legs. Whispers, insults and laughter began to ring out across the food court, as Zoe stood; rooted to the ground, her bladder totally giving way as her face turned bright red. She tried desperately to stop but it was too late and the gold-ball sized patch on her crop shorts became a soaking fountain, spreading from the front and around her bum; as Zoe began to completely wet herself. Pee sprayed out around her in hot golden streams, soaking into her socks, trainers and gathering in a puddle, while Zoe’s body trembled; the young woman herself lost to shock and dismay. ‘I can’t believe it! How could I have an accident?! OMG, this is the worst thing ever! I’m acting like a fucking nine-year old! What is wrong with me?!’. Unseen to her, a young woman’s IPhone recorded Zoe’s public accident from among the crowd, as a devious laugh was supressed. Meanwhile, Nakia wasn’t doing much better. She and a group of college friends had been protesting outside of a Starbucks, a dozen or so of them holding placards and handing out leaflets to any passers who would listen. They were campaigning for fair-trade prices for all cocoa bean farmers who supplied the mega-bean corporation, something Nakia had been invested in ever since she had spent an evening watching a documentary about it with Zoe; crying into her shoulder for most of it. Unfortunately, it was a rainy Sunday and those who were out on the streets weren’t especially motivated to take flyers, most mumbling empty courtesies, a few throwing insults. Nakia was not thrilled at having been called a: ‘Socialist slag’ five separate times, just for insisting farmers be paid a decent wage. However, something else was troubling her even more. Since arriving, she’d had an upset stomach, cramping up at in-opportune moments and causing her to nearly double over in pain. Not wanting to leave the handful of her fellow protestors; as she was their unofficial leader, she’d fought through it but now, a new and hideously embarrassing side-effect had begun to make itself known. ‘BRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH’. Nakia groaned quietly as she felt a thick fart burst from her bottom, a thin high pitch whine in the Sunday rain, as her tightly jean-clad bum stretched from the effort of releasing such a loud, long fart. Still relatively quiet; drowned out by the ambience of the street, her fellow protestors hadn’t noticed her doing it but they were already smelling it. ‘Oh god, that’s foul, WTF!’. ‘Why does it smell like a dead rat here?’. ‘Council doesn’t give a shit about repairing the sewers, too busy taking all-expenses holidays, while we still have homeless everywhere. God, that reeks!’. Nakia blushed with embarrassment, glad no-one realised it was her but also feeling incredibly uncomfortable. ‘Come on, get it together!’ she said to herself. ‘You’re not some dickhead boy at highschool, stop letting these rip! You’re trying to help people, people who need you! Focus, deep breaths and control the butt! (Inhales) That’s it! (Exhales) I can do this (Inhales) I can keep control (Exhales) and nothing will stop m-’. ‘PPPPPPPPRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSQQQQQQQQQQQQQQEEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHPPRRRRRFFFFFFFSSSSSSQQQQQQHHHHEEEESSSSSH’. Nakia’s fart was so loud and unexpected, it not only turned all of her fellow protestor’s heads instantly towards her but several people on the streets nearby, who shook their heads contemptuously at her. If that had been it, Nakia’s cheeks; burning red as they now were, might have shown enough embarrassment from that alone. However, the smell was already filling people’s noses and her friends began to gag, tears filling their eyes; simultaneously laughing and appalled, as the horrid gassy smell wafted in through their noses, almost unspeakably bad for a bum as cute, perky and small as Nakia’s. ‘Oh my god Nakia, what kind of processed shit are you eating?’. ‘That’s foul!’. ‘What the hell, can you not Nakia? I feel like I can hardly breath!’. ‘Call the Avengers, someone just let off a dirty bomb in the city!’. Nakia trembled in fear, trying to laugh off the teasing but she was utterly repulsed. Not just by the enormous fart that she had just shared with her friends but because; right now, Nakia Bahadir, a young, talented, passionate Muslim woman: Bold, creative and brave, had just completely shit herself like a pre-school child, right in front of her friends. It had started as soon as the fart came out, her anus opening up completely against her will and a thick, mushy log of shit pouring into her tight white cotton panties. A river of poo had then flooded forth, completely filling her underwear, squishing against her bum and causing small pieces to begin running down the inside of her blue jeans and down her legs. Nakia’s only saving grace was that; due to her hatred of western thongs, she wore boring thick grandma-style panties, as well as a green coat that was hanging down to her knees. Elsewise, a mountain of Nakia’s shit would have been visible under her clothes; rather than the thick, wet brown spot; hidden underneath her coat, that had turned that area of her blue jeans, dark, soggy brown. ‘You okay Nakia? You look pale…’. ‘Y-yeah, I’m fine! I-I just, n-need, bathroom. Period stuff’ she said weakly, before rushing away; her walk awkward, trying not to drop more shit down her trousers. The protests looked at each other, confused. ‘What was that about?’ asked one of them. A young woman; around their age, with dark red hair and a wicked smile, took a pamphlet from one of their hands, giggling. ‘Oh don’t worry about your friend… I’m sure she’ll be just fine’. Nakia practically fell into the restaurant toilet, bolting the cubicle door behind her and breathing heavily for several seconds trying to calm her racing heart. ‘Oh my god, I just shit myself, again! What the hell is going on today?’. Nakia slowly; groaning with disgust, pulled down her filthy jeans off her legs and was horrified at the mess: Dirty, brown shit; with an absolutely foul stench of homemade egg and cress sandwiches, was covering her underclothes and her bum felt like she might as well be wearing an overfilled diaper: So utterly clogged and filthy were her panties. Pouring what shit she could from them and her jeans into the toilet, she managed to clean the worst smearing off her legs with the help of some tissues and soap in her green backpack; though she’d need at least scolding showers before she felt truly clean again. The panties; despite her best efforts, were pretty much-a-write off, so she placed them into a side pouch of her backpack, along with a thick red pair from this morning, which had several skid-marks and pee stains in them, causing Nakia to roll her eyes at the sight. Having an accident while walking to the protest had been bad enough, wearing the spare-set of panties from the clothes she kept in her backpack in case a friend was raped was worse; yet to then have another accident?! ‘I must be stressing out too much!’ thought Nakia, though she didn’t entirely believe it. ‘Guess I need to take things easier for a while. Maybe stick to online activism for a bit. I’ll worry about that later though…’. Nakia exited the bathroom, relieved no-one had entered while she cleaned herself up; though unbeknownst to her, Becky had caught the entire thing on tape via a hidden camera in the ventilation shaft. Walking out of the restaurant, she began to make her way home; determined to have a shower and put this weird day behind her. However, around halfway there, Nakia grimaced as she felt her tummy rumbling in a familiar and frightening way. ‘Oh no! Not again!’. Kamala by contrast was going through changes of her own; however, the way she responded was quite different. The hypnotic programming for Kamala was far more advanced and so, the young heroine didn’t see anything out of place with her behaviour, as she began to do some combat training in her dorm room. ‘Alright Kamala, you got this, you got this… noIdon’tgotthis!’ she screamed, falling on her ass; as her attempt to do a backflip kick failed. Shrinking the wrong parts of her body had caused her to do an inadvertent splits and she struggled to get back up again. However, as she was doing this, a loud fart ripped from between her bum, causing both bum cheeks to increase to an obscenely large level. The cheeks expanded, now both the side of dinner-trays; thick as two car tires, with a fleshy tightness that allowed Kamala to sway to her feet but then left her unsteady. ‘Woah, easy dumb butt, let’s get you under control!’. Practicing her kicks, Kamala felt another fart building but decided to keep training. Her black hair flew over her shoulders as she kept enlarging parts of her body, practicing hits on a punching bag; though a series of small farts escaped her tightly held butthole. ‘Prrrrfffhhhh’. ‘Pffffffff’. ‘Prrrfhhssss’. As Kamala kept practicing, she suddenly felt a much larger one rip free; enlarging her butt massively, to the point that she found herself suddenly off-balance again. ‘Crap!’. She hit the floor softly; thanks to enlarging her arms to a cushy size, however the impact caused a massive pain in her tummy and massively expanded her ass, to the point that it was now four times larger than the thighs and torso it was attached too. ‘Come on body, work with me’ begged Kamala, frustrated that her usual training issues were playing up today. Of course they weren’t normal at all, however Kamala no longer knew that. Half-a-mile away, the-red haired villainess sat; crying with evil laughter, as she watched her computer monitor with incredible glee. Watching Kamala act like this was the most fun she’d had in months and she kept slapping the table in amusement, struggling to breathe through the laughter, as she saw the heroine fall over from her massively over-inflated ass and high-powered farts. Becky’s legs were trembling with intense laughter and she sat in a white-skirt, red-shirt and red thong panties, at the secret hideout she had made her own. Admittedly, it was just a rented apartment with stolen money and a false name but still! It was a villainess’s hideout! That had to be impressive! As she kept laughing, Becky suddenly felt a burst of pee soak her red-thong panties and immediately straightened up; no longer laughing, as she shook off the laughter. ‘That wasn’t pee… that was sweat! Unlike those idiots, I don’t just have accidents like a toddler when I need to go! I use the bathroom whenever I want and don’t need to rush’. Despite this thought, Becky hurriedly stood up and raced to the toilet; just to make sure she had no further leaks… Meanwhile, Kamala’s overstretched body; in more ways than one, had reached its limit. Kamala felt what was happening a few seconds before it did and though she brought her knees tightly together, it didn’t stop what came next. ‘Oh not this again!’ moaned Kamala but it was too late. Kamala Khan’s training shots began to get soaked with piss, as the young hero lost control of her bladder. Pee burst through her blue Captain Marvel underwear and into the white-shorts, turning them a light yellow shade, as a series of stinky fishy farts continued to pulsate from her butt. Kamala let out a high pitch whine, as her enlarged butt dumped pee all over her legs and knees. She had; in her memories at least, experienced this dozens of times before, so was used to it by now but still didn’t enjoy the feeling and waited impatiently for it to be over. ‘Ugh, so gross’ moaned Kamala, as her accident finally stopped and she lay; stretched out, in a large puddle of pee. She knew it was the price she paid for being an inhuman, for being super-powered and able to help save the world. Even so, she hoped; in a few more years, she’d grow out of it completely. Until then, she just needed to control it, especially as; to her delight, she had a training session with her idol and role model, Carol Danvers AKA Captain Marvel, in just a few short weeks. Kamala was determined everything would go perfectly and resolved herself to keep training in preparation, so she could impress her hero. ‘I’ll do that’ decided Kamala. ‘Right after I get out of these wet clothes!’. TWO WEEKS LATER Kamala was breathing heavily, sweat on her brow, as she nervously knocked on the door of the log cabin. She knew it was silly but Everytime she went to see her mentor and idol; Carol Danvers, it left her paralysed with fear when first arriving. Kamala worshipped the ground Carol walked on and as such, was constantly worried that Carol would one day grow mad at her for something she’d done or failed to do, refusing to help train her. In her worst nightmares, Carol would even demand Kamala no longer use her old moniker; the very thought of which had left her waking up in a cold sweat more than once. Still, she needn’t have been worried, as Carol opened the door and smiled upon seeing Kamala. ‘Hey, you ready for some training?’ said Carol enthusiastically, punching her fist to an open-palm for dramatic effect. Carol was dressed in her bomber jacket and a tight pair of dark blue jeans, her butt cheeks accentuated well by the fabric. Despite the fact she could enlarge and shrink her body, Kamala felt jealous at her idol’s natural beauty and then blushed; realising she’d been staring at her role model’s ass for way too long. ‘Y-yep, I’m ready, let’s do this!’. The two walked to a training area Carol had set up in the trees, with dozens of targets: Plastic dummies, repurposed ULTRON drones, AIM tanks, all ready for them to demolish for practice. As they approached, neither noticed that they were beginning to show visible signs of being desperate for the toilet. Kamala had crossed her legs several times on the walk over, while Carol; having been hypnotically programmed by Kamala last night under trance, was regularly holding herself, one hand stuffed down her jeans and clutching a pair of slightly damp red panties against her trembling, overworked pussy. For now, neither of them had noticed the other’s strange behaviour. This was about to change. ‘Marvel, morpho punches, three tanks; on your left!’ shouted Carol. Kamala’s enlarged fists punched through the AIM vehicles like paper, crushing their turrets underneath her fists; now hard as diamond. ‘Captain, photon blasts on Ultron drones at Point 2.5!’ responded Kamala, watching in awe as her hero blasted apart the training robots like they were made of clay. ‘I have such a girl crush, it’s embarrassing’ thought Kamala Khan; though it wasn’t romantic, just pure admiration. The two were practicing combo-takedowns on enemy factions and for Kamala, it was a dream come true. Spending time with her hero; fighting bad guys… well, sort of. It would have been cooler if they were actual bad guys, not training drones; she thought. Still, she was sure they would get their chance soon enough. ‘Marvel, civvies to hero’ shouted Carol, Kamala nodding quickly. In battle, sometimes a hero is launched into a fight before they can transform into their recognisable armour and costumes. However; as every hero with a secret identity knew, and even those who cared about basic branding, it was ill-advised to fight too long in civilian gear. As such, each would transform at a moment’s opportunity into their specialised costume and this was what Kamala now did. Throwing a STARK-tech nano-ejector towards Captain Marvel, she hit the button on her own and felt a tight costume slide over her body in a manner of femtoseconds; absorbing her regular clothes into the ejector, itself condensed into a pocket in their uniforms. There was just one problem… ‘Training drones, halt! Security override: Talos’. The drones immediately stopped firing, as Carol Danvers looked towards Kamala; annoyed. Momentarily confused, the young heroine looked towards her mentor and blushed bright-red when she realised what had happened. ‘This is your gear! You’ve got them mixed up!’. Carol Danvers body was now covered in the red, yellow and blue, homemade burkini suit that was Kamala’s superhero costume, while Kamala herself was now in Carol’s tight black and yellow leather: A retro costume that Carol used when training with Kamala. She had to admit, the change made her feel very powerful; embarrassed as she was, while Carol now looked like an overgrown high-school student, yellow locks running down, below her shoulders, with the red tights sticking tightly to her legs. ‘I’m so sorry Carol, I didn’t mean-’. ‘-You can’t make a mistake like that on the battlefield Kamala, it will waste time and lives could be lost’. ‘I-I know, I’m… I’m…’ Kamala tailed off, her face suddenly turning pale white. ‘… Kamala?’. ‘ARGH! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGGHGHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSS’. Kamala screamed, clutching her belly intensely; as a sharp pain ripped through her from her thighs down to the bottom of her bum. It was immediately followed by an extremely loud fart, emanating from Kamala’s backside, as her perky young bottom suddenly tripled in size, pushing out the tight leather of Carol’s costume, while the young girl’s long, putrid fart and powers strained the suit’s integrity. Carol stared in disbelief, as Kamala gaped in horror; wishing that a supervillain would just blow up the world, so she could be dead and not have to face her mentor’s response to her disgusting behaviour. However, rather than a scolding, Carol’s next reaction was one of mutual confusion, frustration and fear. ‘BRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! BRRRRRR!!!! BRRRRRRR!!!! PSRRFFFFFFFHHHHH!!!!!!’. Carol let out a series of high-powered farts, each one causing photon blasts to rip through the back of Kamala’s tights; exposing Carol’s sexy, shaking bum to the young hero, causing her to blush scarlet red. The smell was awful, thick, intense; with an electric tanginess from the cosmic energy, as Carol stared down at her own body, bewildered. ‘What the hell?! Argh! BRRRRFFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHSHHSHSSH’. Another round of intense, stinky photon farts blew through the hole in Carol’s suit, as Kamala recoiled from the smell. ‘Oh, gross, gross, gross! I’m literally dying’ she moaned, as Carol Danvers whole body turned scarlet red with embarrassment. ‘Kamala I’m so sorr… OH NO. No, no, no, no, no!’. Captain Marvel screamed as a hot, wet blast of photon empowered shit blast straight from her asshole, spattering the forest floor beneath her at super-speed. Kamala stared in shock, while Carol looked horrified, as several less powerful bursts caused clumps of shit to run down the back of Carol’s legs; smudging over Kamala’s red tights. Kamala, practically struck dump until this moment, suddenly felt an intense pang of pain burst through her own body and gasped, as a huge streak of pee flooded through Carol’s tight black leather costume. It ran down Kamala’s exposed legs in several streams, as the young heroine felt lightheaded and shocked. ‘Oh god, I’m peeing Captain Marvel’s supersuit! No, no, no, this can’t be happening! Holy shit!’. Her shock did not slow down the accident in the slightest however, as Kamala Khan continued to wet herself; piss forming into a puddle beneath her, while a sickening amount went down her black leather leggings and into her boots, her toes now sploshing around uncomfortably inside her own piss. ‘Argh, so gross, Captain, I’m so sorry!’ cried Kamala, tears running down her face. The elder hero barely heard her, too busy crapping herself in a humiliating display to even fully register what had happened to Kamala. Carol couldn’t believe this was happening. She was Carol Danvers, a legendary hero; who had saved the world countless times. She was not a panty-pooping; obliterating in this case, little girl who couldn’t hold herself during training. She could not have been more mortified. Kamala meanwhile was no less happy. ‘I can’t believe I’m having an accident in front of my hero! This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!’ thought Kamala, as she felt her stomach building up for one last; awful, display. ‘Oh god no. Please, please, no… ARGH!!!!’. Kamala screamed, as she felt her butt enlarge to a ridiculously out of proportion size for her body; as Carol finally snapped out of her self-pity, realising what was happening to the young hero. Unfortunately, she could do nothing but watch as Kamala Khan let out the largest, smelliest, most horrific smelling fart that Carol had ever had the misfortune of coming near her nose, before the inevitable followed. ‘PPPPPPPRPRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSS!’. Large, thick clumps of shit; extended well beyond human size by Kamala’s enlarged butt, began to slide from her exhausted asshole, pouring through her anus and stretching against the black-leather. Pulled to breaking point, the leather snapped open and Kamal’s knees trembled as piss and shit began to run down her bum, over her knees and down the back of her ankles; drenching her and her idol’s suit in filth. Mentally and physically exhausted, the immense pain of humiliation; yet physical relief of losing control, caused Kamala to collapse backwards, her massive bum falling into the pile of enormous shit she’d left on the forest floor. The young heroine sobbed; devastated, as more continued to push its way through, leaving her absolutely devastated. Carol looked on sympathetically. Though she was incredibly embarrassed, she knew how much Kamala looked up to her and how devastating this must be on the young hero. Putting her own needs to the side, she walked; uncomfortably in her ruined clothes, up to the sobbing hero, whose accident had finally come to an end, offering her a hand up. ‘We obviously trained too hard today’ said Carol confidently, unaware that she was being hypnotically programmed to believe this. ‘Come on Kamala, let’s get cleaned up’. Kamala looked up, tears in her eyes, though she didn’t take Carol’s hand; as her own were still covered in piss from when she’s tried to hold back her accident. ‘I don’t deserve any of this’ said Kamala despondently. ‘I’m not a hero, I’m just a stupid little girl from New Jersey. Just leave me’. ‘That’s an order Ms. Marvel’ said Carol more firmly. ‘You aren’t giving up because of this’. ‘The world still needs you’. Kamala looked towards Carol again, who gave a slight nod of affection. Smiling weakly, she realised that Carol was right. No matter how embarrassing this was, she had to keep fighting to get stronger, better; more controlled. For all those who couldn’t. Kamala Khan took Carol Danvers hand. A FEW DAYS LATER Jennifer Walters sat in her lawyer’s office, squirming at her desk. For the last several hours, she had been feeling an unusual need to use the bathroom that had been interfering with her regular legal practice. Normally, she arranged meetings with clients while in She-Hulk form; particularly with domestic abuse survivors, as it made them feel safer to be represented in court when going up against their abusers. Yet today, she had been alternating between her forms at random and her body kept shifting between extremes. One minute, she had been fine; the next, she was squirming under her desk, her tight green legs clamped tightly together, as she tried not to piss herself in her pinstripe trousers while listening to cases where New York’s struggling women had been beaten halfway around the block by their former high-school sweethearts, turned mean drunks after their football careers had fallen through. Right now, she was hearing a less serious case but unfortunately, that in and of itself was proving to be a problem for her, as this latest client had an unusual story to tell: ‘So, you’re saying the phone company experimented on you for their products by inserting computer chips in your ass?’ asked Jennifer in disbelief. ‘I know it sounds crazy but I have all the evidence right here!’ said the woman in her early 20’s, a thin, blonde with raggedy hair and deep blue eyes, wearing tight red jeans. Jennifer looked over the paperwork and at first; while cynical, the answer to the weirdness of this case became abundantly clear. Moxwell Phones was a front business for the Kingpin; New York’s most notorious crime boss, which she had come across many times in her repeated legal battles in court, as well as superhero escapades. Once, she and Spiderman had even had the unfortunate pleasure to end up in a three-way brawl with the muscle-bound madman. Terrifyingly, he had managed to go toe-to-toe with both of them for several minutes and even briefly knocked her unconscious with a metal beam, until Spiderman; badly injured but fighting on as ever, had done the same to him by chucking him into a stack of hundreds of loose gravel bags. She figured that Fisk must be using this business as a front for human trafficking and drug smuggling, with the computer chips story being a lie told to unwitting and poorly educated marks; allowing them to move large amounts of cocaine discretely around the city, without their victims being marked by the FBI, superheroes or other criminal gangs as the usual couriers. “Please say you believe me!’ begged the woman, tears in her eyes. ‘Mrs. Williams, I do’ said Jennifer sympathetically. ‘Please, explain your full story to me’. As she said this, Jennifer regretted her words only seconds later as she felt a huge desire to fart building up in her ass and took a slow, deep breath in order to calm it down. Her bladder was aching and she cursed her luck for having attended training with Ms. Marvel, Spider-Woman, and Peggy Carter the other day, clearly having exhausted her body too much after recovering from a recent supervillain’s attempt to poison the eastern United States water supply. Little did she know; at the end of that training session, when all the superheroines had gathered around a TV screen to review their training footage, Kamala had played a pre-recorded hypnosis video that had subtly programmed hypnotic behaviours into all of them, the main one of which was now affecting Jennifer. ‘I was applying for jobs, my rent was overdue and I needed money badly. Then, these two guys approached me in a bar and said that; for a few night’s work, I could get paid good money if I was willing to do some unorthodox stuff. I’m not prudish, I figured they just wanted sex but then they took me to this warehouse and I got really scared. I tried to leave but they wouldn’t let me and then they said that if I didn’t allow them to do their work, then they would hurt me and that I didn’t want to mess with their boss’. Jennifer listened sympathetically but she was struggling to concentrate, as she noticed her thick, green arm was beginning to transform back into a light, creamy pale human one and she felt a long, silent fart slowly escape from her clenched buttocks; the smell of ham and honey sandwiches beginning to fill her nose, as she struggled not to gag. Hiding her arm, she tried to will her body to stay as the She-Hulk and clenched her legs tightly together; her intense need to pee and shit beginning to feel seriously painful. ‘Go on’ said Jennifer, her voice strained with the exertion of her now failing body beginning to break down. ‘They told me that they were going to put computer chips inside my ass as a test for their new products and said that if I went to certain places each day for a week, then I’d be paid $1000 at the end and no one need ever know. Every time I got to the locations, I’d get woozy and pass out for a few minutes, then wake up with my whole body feeling sore and scar marks on my butt’. ‘I think Kingpin’s, ah… gang, used you as a hmm, drug mule said Jennifer desperately, now bouncing in her seat repeatedly; as she felt a massive burst of tension building that she somehow knew would completely wreck her bladder control. ‘What?!’ screamed the woman. ‘Those bastards!’. Jennifer; unable to take it any longer, rose to her feet and tried making her way to her office’s bathroom but Mrs. Williams blocked her path. ‘Mrs. Walters please, you’ve got to take my case! I know you’re a hero, you’ll help me, right? Please say you’ll help me?’. ‘I…’ said Jennifer, feeling incredibly faint, as one of her green legs reverted back to human form; causing her trousers to sag immensely, as her whole body shook. The woman finally noticed Jennifer’s unusual behaviour, frowning in confusion. ‘Are you alright?’. ‘I… I… I can’t hold it!’. Her large, green asshole let rip an immensely loud fart, as Jennifer turned bright red in humiliation and the woman stared at her incredulously. ‘BBBBBRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!’. ‘What the fuck?!’ said Mrs. Williams angrily. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’. ‘No, I’m so sorry, I need-’ started Jennifer but it was too late. She took one step forward, then; her asshole opened again, spewing forth a massive amount of shit, immediately causing her pinstripe pants to fill with hot, thick, sludgy crap, as an utterly foul smell filled the air. ‘Oh my god!’ gagged the woman. Jennifer’s whole body began to go haywire. Her arms and legs kept changing between her She-Hulk appearance and her human appearance, even splitting down the face with both, as she screamed in agony. The subsequent body changes caused her clothes to rapidly sag and then stretch, tearing holes at several places, as shit began to slide down her legs, while her asshole continued to expel more and more shit in heavy thuds, with much of it falling out through the holes in her pinstripe suit. She didn’t wear panties as they didn’t stretch enough, so nothing was restricting her breakfast from pouring out her bum as she trembled in humiliation, the heavy loads from She-Hulk causing her pinstripe pants to fall down, exposing her naked pussy to Mrs. Williams, as she began to lose the rest of her control and pee flooded down her legs, arcing out in a spray that caused the client to recoil back in horror; pee spilling into her shoes, while Jennifer Walters stood there, aghast, with her pinstripe suit trousers around her ankles, wetting and shitting herself; half-naked, like some kind of disobedient child who hadn’t been properly potty trained. ‘Fuck you!’ screamed the woman, turning in anger and yanking open the office door. ‘I trusted you and you treat me like this! No wonder people say never meet your fucking heroes!’. Mrs. Williams stormed out before Jennifer could stop her; though, in truth, she was too preoccupied to really try. Her accident continued unrestrained, as mounds of thick, brown shit; in log and clumpy shapes, fell over her black high-heeled shoes and the piss formed a massive puddle around her as Jennifer Walters; lawyer extraordinaire, continued to humiliatingly piss and shit herself, her clothes and her floor like a baby. Slowly, her asshole began to stop expelling shit and Jennifer’s body reverted to its all-green, She-Hulk form, trembling; an unusual sight for her, as piss dripped down her soaked, muscular legs and she felt the last of her accident pour from her body. She stood there for a few seconds, before punching her desk in frustration; leaving a huge hole through its corner. Sighing, Jennifer swore and stepped out of the muck. ‘This is my fifth accident this year!’ thought Jennifer. ‘If I don’t get this under control, clients are going to talk and I’m going to lose my license if I do this in a courtroom’. In truth, this was the first accident Jennifer Walters had experienced since grade school; however, the hypnotic trance had convinced her otherwise, making her believe that her She-Hulk body was suffering a multi-year long response to a viral infection, as an unfortunate form of mutated Gamma Poisoning. Despite her messy state, Jennifer Walters was still a hero; first and foremost, her heart going out to the poor client whose body had been used and abused by the Kingpin’s men, surgically tormented by shady criminals for a drug-trafficking scheme. She knew there was zero chance that Mrs. Williams would ever trust her again, however, she wasn’t the only lawyer in the city with special skills and; as much as she hated to help the competition, this seemed as good a time as any. Reaching out to her phone, she dialled a number she knew by heart: Nelson, Murdock & Page, where the legendary super-hero lawyer; as well as secretly the superhero Daredevil, resided. ‘Hi, this is Jennifer, can I speak to Matt? Yes, it’s urgent! Hi Matt! Yeah… I need your help. I’ve just messed things up with a client and I think you’ll be interested in what she has to say about hers’. ‘I’m sorry, we can’t afford to take on any new clients right now Mrs. Walters’ said Matt coolly but professionally, always the gentleman. ‘It’s a Fisk case’ she said bluntly. There was silence for a moment. ‘... Alright, I’m listening’. THE NEXT DAY Kate Bishop almost never missed. More specifically, she never missed her targets. Being trained by one of SHIELD’s most legendary agents; as well as being a prodigy archer in her own right, meaning that very little escaped her marksmanship. In battle, this meant that more than one supervillain; as well as countless drones, aliens, demons, vampires, warlocks, Werewolves, and living glass mannequins had met their end at her hand. During her days off, however, this was more of a fun party trick. Right now however, she was missing one thing: A bathroom. Kate Bishop was a young SHIELD protégé and experienced fighter; she was used to going without relief for long periods but something was unusual today. Her bladder felt uncomfortably full and she hoped her friend would be here soon. ‘Woah, sick girl! How’d you get so good at that?’ said an eighteen-year-old skater punk, having seen Kate throw three empty soda cans from the wall she was sitting on over 10ft., each one spinning on the bin’s rim and sliding in with perfect precision. ‘It’s a gift!’ she said sarcastically. ‘The gift of thousands of hours of work, blood, sweat and tears, broken bones, adrenalin rushes, self-loathing; you know, the works’. ‘Damn girl, okay! You waiting for someone?’ the boy said flirtatiously, sliding his bike in front of her. ‘Yeah, now scram!’ said Kate; annoyed, not wanting to deal with some random asshole right now. ‘Come on babe, don’t be like that’ said the boy; seemingly wanting to sign his own death warrant as he came into an uncomfortable leering distance of Kate’s boobs, tucked neatly inside her purple shirt. Moments before he would have got a broken nose, a friend grabbed Kate’s twitching arm. ‘He’s not worth it’s said Kamala, giving the boy a menacing stare, as he swore and cycled off; never knowing how close he came to a major beat-down. ‘What took you so long?’ said Kate. ‘Sorry, training these past few days has been crazy!’. ‘You take it so seriously’ said Kate flippantly, walking along the wall’s edge; as Kamala laughed. ‘Me?! You’re in the training grounds more than I am! You just want people to think you’re aloof to maintain this cool girl image!’. ‘Ooh, you’re right! … Is it working?’. ‘... Yeah, you are pretty awesome!’. Kate laughed, giving Kamala a friendly shoulder-punch of affection, as the two young teens made their way into the city. Kate was dressed in tight black jeans, with a purple top, sunglasses, and had her hair thrown back; straight as an arrow, swaying gently in the midday sun. Kamala by contrast was wearing bright blue jeans, a red and yellow striped jumper; with a thin white vest underneath, her long brown hair in a tangled mess. Coincidentally, both were wearing thin grey cotton panties. There was no hypnosis involved in that, however, just a similar taste in clothing stores. Unbeknownst to either of them, however, there: ‘Girl’s Afternoon Out’ had been set up through Becky; determined to humiliate Kate, who had assisted Kamala as a friend in stopping several of her prior schemes. However, she dare not try to secretly film her accident; even in plain clothes and hidden. Her hypnotic programming couldn’t undo years of SHIELD training and Kate was exceptionally observant, even by their standards. Instead, she had Kamala wearing a hidden camera; hidden inside her scarf. She’d also had Kamala slip diuretics into the water bottles at Kate’s house earlier that morning; Kamala knowing the password to get past Kate’s home defences. Since arriving for her meetup with Kamala, Kate had slowly been feeling more and more uncomfortable, as the diuretics forced their way through her system and she’d regretted downing those sodas now. As they walked, Kate searched the environment for toilets but was unable to find any; much to her annoyance. Kamala; under Becky’s careful guidance, had chosen the location well. There wasn’t a working toilet, bus stop, or stable phone reception for miles, and those diuretics were fast-acting. Becky laughed back at headquarters; watching the incident slowly play out through a camera feed. She knew that Kate didn’t have much time and she was right. Kate was now occasionally holding herself; though still trying to be discrete, swaying on the pathway they were on heading towards the city. Kamala; also having drunk some of the diuretic water, Becky never missing an opportunity to humiliate her, was beginning to struggle. Her butt kept randomly expanding inside her jeans, inflating to comical levels; nearly twice her size, as small farts escaped her backside. ‘PRRFFFFF, PRRFFF, PFFFFSH!!’. ‘Damn Kamala, what you been eating lately? That being said, I can’t really talk; feel like I ate gravel for breakfast, my stomach is killing me. This is weird, I never get this kind of stuff’ said Kate, confused. ‘Really? Happens to me all the time’ said Kamala resignedly. ‘Side effect of my powers’. Kate looked surprised. ‘You’ve never mentioned that before. Damn girl, that sucks. Guess it’s not always bad not having invincible skin or being stretchy enough to be a human trampoline’. ‘Hey!’ said Kamala, laughing in mock outrage. ‘For what it’s worth though, I don’t think you’re any less super without the powers’. ‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments Kam!’ said Kate defensively. ‘I know. Just wanted to say’. ‘Thanks Kamala’ said Kate, genuinely serious for a moment. ‘I mean it’. ‘You’re welcome’. The two young heroes’ sweet moment was interrupted as their desperate needs for the toilet grew worse. Kate was now walking with tightly clamped legs, while Kamala was openly holding herself, both girls clearly in pain, as their bladders filled to an uncomfortable level. Though neither would admit it, both had wet spots in their grey knickers that they were well aware wasn’t sweat and knew it wouldn’t be long before small leaks became huge accidents. ‘Jesus Kamala, why did you make us meet in this isolated dump?’ asked Kate, annoyed; finally beginning to openly hold herself, as she took a break from walking along the dirty canal to the city, the sound of water rushing by not helping her condition. ‘I’m sorry, Google Maps said it was a faster route! I’m not that great with directions!’. Kate gave Kamala an odd look; knowing that was unlike her, as Kamala normally had a good eye for where to meet up. Before she could consider it further, a massive rip of pain split through her stomach and Kate moaned in agony, squatting down and holding her stomach in frustration. Kamala gasped in shock and Kate in horror as a small stream of wee; lasting for three seconds long, burst through the crotch of Kate’s tight black jeans, pouring through her grey cotton underwear and onto the cobblestone below. ‘Right, that’s it!’ said Kate desperately. ‘I’m losing it; I’m going behind that tree!’. If Kamala had been in her right mind, she’d have been tearing at her own jean zipper to do the same; despite the embarrassment and risk of going in public. However, Becky had accounted for this possibility in her hypnotic programming and had made sure that Kamala would do everything in her power to prevent her friends and fellow heroes escaping their accidents this way. ‘What?!’ said Kamala, outraged. ‘Kate, you can’t go there, what if there are cameras!’. ‘Oh, so you’d rather I piss myself on camera than go behind a bush?’. ‘You don’t need to do either, neither of us do!’ said Kamala; though deep down, she didn’t believe it, as she was already doing the pee-pee dance and desperately holding herself between her thighs. ‘We can find a toilet somewhere!’. ‘There’s no time, I’m about to go, hold on yourself if you want to!’. Kate began to unzip her trousers, however, Kamala’s programming kicked in, and just as she’d slid them down to her knees; racing to pull her grey panties down, Kamala’s hands stretched over and knocked Kate’s own away, pulling up her trousers in a fast yank. ‘Fuck off Kam, what the hell?!’ said Kate angrily. ‘Why are you being such a… an… oh no!’. Kate tried to pull her trousers down again but they weren’t even below her knees as a loud, smelly, putrid fart ripped through the air, and pee flooded through her grey knickers; before forming a waterfall of golden streams that ran straight downwards, though a few streams broke loose, spraying her jeans and Kate’s legs and shoes. Kamala wanted to look away but the hypnotic programming didn’t even let her truly consider the idea, as Kamala felt her own need to go accelerate to critical levels. ‘Fuck, fuck… fuck, I can’t hold it!’ screamed Kamala, her butt letting out an enormous fart as it expanded to obscene levels. ‘PRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS’. With every second it went on, Kamala began to wet and shit herself simultaneously. Both flooded into her panties together, filling them in a second as golden streams ran down the front of her legs, over her knees and showing up as a massive, expanding wet patch on her jeans and crotch, while thick brown streams; shit mixed in with piss, went down the back, leaving her jeans bum area with a massive brown stain on it, that was only getting bigger, stinkier and more embarrassing by the second. Both superheroes continued to wet themselves; Kamala’s shitting accident being especially horrifying for her, not even happening during training. False memories told her this wasn’t unheard of for her but even so, it had been a while; at least three months in her head, since the last one and she thought she’d been moving past it. It was embarrassing; no, mortifying shame to have that turn out not to be the case when out with her friend Kate. She also felt awful for accidentally making her own accident worse, unsure of why she felt so honour-bound to stop her as if her role as a superhero should prioritize preventing young, eighteen year-old-girls; on the verge of an accident, from using an emergency toilet area. ‘I-I’m so sorry Kate!’ said Kamala; tears running down her face, as she ran off in shame, realizing what she had done to her friend by what she’d thought was her stubborn pride. ‘Kamala!’ screamed Kate angrily, though as she heard her friends sobs; despite everything, she felt sorry for her. Kamala hadn’t meant for this to happen. ‘She’s such a stupid bitch!’ moaned Kate, before feeling guilty at the comment. ‘Come on, no she’s not, she just made a mistake. Sure, she chose a bad location and didn’t seem in any hurry, then stopped me… but… ah, she’s just a do-gooder. Aren’t all heroes like us though? Yeah but this isn’t like her. Not really’ thought Kate, suddenly feeling suspicious. Kamala was definitely aspiring to be what Clint jokingly referred to as a ‘Parrot’ AKA a hero who is always prattling off speeches, inspiring quotes, and obeying the rule to the letter; never wavering on their principles, believing that would make her a better hero and would make Carol Danvers proud of her. But even so, Kate realized that something was off. Kamala may be a little tightly wound sometimes; sure, but she could be practical and she didn’t consider crime-fighting to be stopping one of her friends from avoiding a major and humiliating accident. Something was wrong. Trying to ignore the pee on her legs and jeans, Kate carefully slid off all the clothes on her bottom half; making sure she was hidden from any passing strangers, as well as other prying eyes she was now wary of, before attaching the sodden panties to a small arrowhead she pulled from her pocket. She always kept a mini-compact bow and a few arrowheads with her in most civilian circumstances, in case she ever needed to take down the odd mugger or; worst case scenario, a shooter when she wasn’t on active duty. Technically, using it for this purpose wasn’t the most appropriate use of her skills as a master archer but she figured that this was an unusual circumstance and could be justified if anyone ever found out about it. Probably. Pulling back her bow and releasing, the panties were flung on the edge of an arrowhead and the shot was perfect; sliding the arrow into a gutter, while the panties got stuck at the top of a pipe, where leaves would quickly obscure them from the very limited view anyone could already have. She’d return tonight and collect them, once she hightailed it back to her apartment and did three things. Firstly, a shower. The pee on her jeans and legs was beginning to cool and she didn’t like the sensation when warm; let alone icy. Secondly, she was going to do a blood test; to check if she had been poisoned with some kind of nerve agent or diuretic. Finally; if she had been, she was going to contact one of Kamala’s friends. She had all their numbers memorized; as she did with the close friends and family of all her Avengers and superhero teammates, in case they were ever injured or killed in battle. Kate couldn’t be sure who was in on this but knew who she could safely eliminate wasn’t. Whether others had noticed yet or not, something needed to be done. Something wasn’t right with Kamala Khan. THE PREVIOUS WEEK Gwen Stacy was baffled. Shocked. Terrified. All of the above. She was having; quite possibly, the most confusing week of her life. It had all started after a superhero training session, routine stuff. She’d done some fight training with Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Janet Van Dyne; a few others. Yet ever since then, things had been anything but normal. It had all started on the first day when; out of nowhere, a bright blue flash of light had engulfed her and she had gone from swinging in the city of New York she knew to a mid-2000’s version of the city that looked similar but was nothing like the world she knew. There were no Avengers, no alien invasions, no heroes… except one. Spiderman. She’d somehow ended up in an alternate world that only had a black-suited Spiderman, who seemed to be able to move around the city with incredible speed and skill that even she couldn’t match. To her shock, she soon realized that it was Peter Parker; learning his identity when she followed him from a distance, being careful not to trigger his Spidey-Sense as a threat. She also realized that he was really weird. For some reason, she’d seen him leave a clothing store the other day doing air thrusts and weird dance moves towards women; all while listening to ‘Funky Soul’ via his MP3 player and wireless headphones. That sight alone had made her bizarre journey almost worth it, however; she didn’t have time to question it. From there, her timeline jumping began in earnest. Today, she was at high school with Mary Jane; heading to band practice, where she was going to test a theory, hopefully before she jumped again. Gwen figured that the world-jumping was due to unstable DNA, ever since her battle as part of what she’d nicknamed the ‘Spiderverse’ incident, where she and a group of her parallel selves had battled Wilson Fisk. She figured that if the bands played their music together, the harmonies may combine with her unstable DNA patterns to form a more stable; eventually allowing her to stabilize and perhaps travel between universes at will. Currently, she’d been forced out within a handful of days each time; before the different dimensional energies ripped her apart. If she; as well as some of her alternate selves, had worked out the same conclusion, then multiple universes worth of Gwen Stacy Spiderwoman, in the same environment, should be able to create a ‘Multiverse Synchronisation Gateway’ and that was her ticket home. She knew she might only get one shot at this. She’d been trying it in a dozen different timelines; so far nothing, yet if she didn’t for any reason, then the others may achieve it without her, and then she’d be stuck as a permanent unstable presence between universes; forever. What she didn’t know is that her DNA had been set off by an unintended effect of Kamala’s hypnosis. The program had instructed Gwen to go far away from Kamala and begin placing herself into situations where she would be forced to suffer humiliating accidents. Her genetically altered mind; still not entirely understood by her or many Spidermen/Spiderwomen, had responded to this by manifesting a new ability from her DNA; already charged with multi-dimensional energy: She now had the ability to jump through parallel worlds at a whim. Unfortunately, Gwen needed to use this strange, risky, unreliable, and limited opportunity method to get control of it or she would never have a semblance of a normal life again. Naturally; during a time of immense personal crisis and stress, Gwen practically wanted to scream in annoyance as her bladder had filled rapidly this morning, leaving her now desperate for the toilet as she approached her band class. She wanted to go but she couldn’t risk it, so instead, she tightly clamped her legs and moved forwards. ‘You okay Gwen?’. It was this universe’s Mary Jane: A fiery redhead; like the vast majority, she’d seen, with huge boobs that this timeline’s version of Peter was staring at for half his time at college. Having slipped into the place of her alternate self, Gwen was dressed in a thin white skirt and dark blue cotton panties; with bare legs and white trainers, while Mary Jane wore a tight white tank-top and short red-skirt, with Gwen having glimpsed red lingerie on MJ earlier; much to her enjoyment. ‘Y-yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Still, need to focus if I’m gonna do well at band today’. ‘I know what you mean’ said MJ. ‘It gets so tiring sometimes. Come on tiger, let’s get this done, then we’ll go get Chinese food!’. MJ kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, causing Gwen to blush. In this timeline it seemed, they were partners and boy was she an enthusiastic lover. Gwen had initially wanted to decline her advances but had discovered earlier in her dimension-hopping that acting out of character for this version of herself in the timeline caused her to rapidly jump to a new one within minutes of her altered behaviour. Thankfully, she had the memories of each new Gwen she booted into another timeline, so could use that to stay in character. Giving MJ’s bum a gentle squeeze, the redhead giggled in delight and the two entered band practice, taking their seats, as Gwen felt a slight tanginess in the air. ‘Do you feel that?’ asked Gwen excitedly. ‘Feel what?’ asked MJ. ‘N-nothing, nevermind’. Realizing that no-one else could sense it, she realized it must be the beginning of a multiverse synchronization event and if she could just keep this going for a few minutes; she could be home! Desperately squirming in her seat, Gwen cursed her infuriatingly small bladder but fought through. This was her moment. She could not miss it for anything, least of all a bathroom break. Using her enhanced reflexes to put her hand up first when the teachers asked to play a song, she chose one that was meaningful to multiple versions of Spidermen and Spiderwomen everywhere, a song that paid tribute to a close friend and someone she wished could be her partner. Oh yes, she knew the exact song. ‘Yes, Mrs. Stacy? What shall we play?’. ‘Blackway & Black Caviar, What's Up Danger’. ‘Very well!’. The band began to play as Gwen smiled. She knew that; in many universes, this song meant the world to Miles: Playing it through his suit during the moment he truly became Spiderman, hyping himself up with music. She sometimes listened to it so she could imagine seeing him properly again and perhaps; one day, starting the relationship they know they could. Nothing was going to stop her now. Not a billion universes, not DNA gone wild and not her desperate need to pee, which now had her wriggling on her seat to the point that MJ was looking at her with a knowing stare. She didn’t care. This was it. Two-thousand on thermometers Two-thousand surroundin' us Travel two-thousand kilometers To hang out with us The tanginess in the air increased and Gwen smiled, though quickly grimaced too, as her desperation began to reach critical levels, feeling a small spurt of pee leak into her panties; as she blushed bright red. Even so, she could see bolts of electricity ricocheting off the wall and knew that now was not the time to stop. What's up, danger? (Danger) What's up, danger? (Danger) An intense fart escaped her that she was barely able to keep silent, as she felt reality began to fall apart around her; even as the band continued to play the music. She could feel bursts of pee soak her knickers and the putrid smell hit her nose but she could not, would not, be stopped. She kept playing as she felt herself lose control. Ayy, gettin' old, they doubted us Makes it that more marvelous Sign 'em up, 'cause I'm in this vibe and I get synonymous Pee was flooding over her skirt now, a wet patch expanding across her skirt and down her legs; as Mary Jane’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Gwen… you’re…’. ‘Out of here!’. Gwen felt her whole body fall forwards, as she was blasted into a vortex of unimaginable energy; as she screamed in terror. Piss and shit flooded over her legs in a matter of seconds, yet within a split-second, she was wetting her white spider-suit, then a red and yellow one with wings. Jeans, skirts, mountain gear, Hand Clan uniform, a Green Goblin Suit, Thor’s Armor, Oscorp research gear, Dr. Strange’s sorcery robes: She could feel her piss flooding inside hundreds of different costumes in a single moment; infinite versions of her wetting herself inside a moment of pure chaos at the heart of the multiverse. What's up, danger? Ayy, don't be a stranger 'Cause I like high chances that I might lose (lose) I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em Then, she felt herself living a thousand lives and memories all at once. She saw one universe where Mary Jane and Peter Parker had her tied to a bed, with her squirming desperately in black lingerie; utterly bursting for a piss. Mary Jane was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, while Peter used his Spider-Sense to find every weak point in her body and was edging her on orgasm like nothing she had ever felt. The pleasure and desperation were indescribable. She felt Mary Jane slide over her, as hot pee flooded from Mary Jane’s own red Victoria secret panties and a loud fart emanated from her backside; shit and piss beginning to slide into the redhead’s lingerie and over Gwen’s stomach. ‘Let go Gwen’ whispered Mary Jane and Gwen’s own release, her own accident, her own orgasm, shook the whole multiverse with pleasure. I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is I'm insane but on my toes I could keep the world balanced on my nose I had a slumber party wit' all my foes Now I wear 'em like a badge of honour all my clothes If I'm crazy, I'm on my own If I'm waitin', it's on my throne If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone 'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone Gwen felt her whole body vibrate with ecstasy, yet she kept falling through infinity and saw and felt a thousand more universes. Worlds where the Avengers fell and she; the last hero, turned back invasions at the survivors’ colonies from plague mutant zombies, the last Supervillains, and even Thanos, battling the Mad-Titan equipped with Spider sorcery that she could barely comprehend. Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) D-don't be a stranger What's up, danger? Two-hundred miles-per-hour wit' a blindfold on (on) Mama always askin', "Where did I go wrong?" (wrong) What's up, danger? Ah, what's up, danger? She saw universes where Miles Morales, Peter Parker, and Mary Jane were holding her as a wife, then fighting her to the death as a brutal; ruthless, enemy. She watched beautiful displays of love and horrifying displays of hate and screamed in terror at all of those, yet still, she kept falling, every inch of her soaked in fear, piss, grief and pleasure. Traveled two-hundred miles, I'm knockin' at your door And I don't really care if you ain't done wrong, come on What's up, danger? (Danger) D-don't be a stranger (stranger) Gwen was horrified that she was going to be stuck in this chaos forever but she forced herself to concentrate. She could still hear the band’s music: ‘What’s Up Danger’, echoing across the entire spectrum of creation and she used it as her anchor. She envisioned her universe in her mind and suddenly, the vortex of creation began to take shape, feeling less chaotic and forming into pictures she could see in front of her: There it was! Her New York! Her home! But her heart was divided and the picture began to split into two, terrifying Gwen that she was about to lose it. ‘No!’, she screamed in absolute horror. I like it when trouble brews, I won't dare change I like it when there's turbulence on my airplanes I like it when I sense things I can't see yet Fortunately, the image wasn’t collapsing but showing possibilities: Two. She saw two universes ahead of her in the vortex and ahead, she saw the heroes and friends she knew, the world she’d grown up in, the people she’d fought for all her life. Then, she saw Miles; the Miles she’d fallen in love with, in his world, and knew that if she willed herself to, that she would end up in his universe and could stay there forever, free of the cursed divide between dimensions. She could be with the man she loved, as she felt his heartbeat with the music. Swimmin' with sharks when they ain't feed yet 'Cause I like high chances that I might lose I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is For a brief moment, Gwen wanted to. She wanted to more than anything. But her world still needed her. Gwen knew that. One day, she would find Miles again. But this was not their moment. She aimed her heart and mind towards her universe; tears rolling down her eyes, as the image of a smiling Miles looking right at her, as he began to fade. He nodded at her in approval; tears in his eyes. She cried aloud with emotion and fell through the divide between universes, as she appeared; like a ball of white and blue fire, in the New York skyline. If I'm crazy, I'm on my own If I'm waitin', it's on my throne If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone 'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) Like, what's up, danger? Can't stop me now I said, "I got you now" I'm right here at your door I won't leave, I want more What's up, danger? The people of the city stared up at her, afraid for a moment that she was a hostile attack but soon, they saw one of their heroes; Spiderwoman, through the fire and cheered. She had been missing for almost a week and her return brought a wave of cheers and applause ripping through the city, as Gwen cried with relief and happiness; before laughing, as she realized that pee and shit had still filled up her white Spider-Suit. Yeah, what's up, danger? Can't stop me now, yeah I said, "I got you now" Come on, what's up, danger? Come on, I said, "What's up, danger?" Gwen Stacy had returned. Spider-Woman was back. THAT SAME DAY
 Janet Van Dyne had been having… problems. She didn’t want to admit it; certainly not to her judgmental husband, yet age was starting to get to her. Up until last year, she’d handled everything that the inevitable passage of time had thrown at her. She’d worn glasses willingly, moved slower but with grace, accepted that certain muscles were just going to be permanently aching now; not helped by her superhero lifestyle, which she had maintained long past the point where many other heroines might have retired. Janet loved hero work. She had gotten her husband Hank into it, not the other way around; despite what he may sometimes claim. Age and a few pains were not going to stop her. But this latest problem had left her wondering whether she really had gotten too old to carry things on. Last year; a false memory implanted by mind-controlled Kamala, Janet had been running a search and rescue operation inside a housing district that had been devastated by fighting with the Kree Empire. She’d been in her Antwoman Suit, crawling through the wreckage of a destroyed home, when she’d felt an unbearably bad need to piss. Trying her hardest to push it off, she’d made it through the rest of the operation, only to get changed into her civilian clothes and completely soak herself in her car on the way home. Janet could still remember; to her shame, how it felt to soak her beige cream trousers, feel a thick, wet log of her own shit squirm its way from her desperately clenched asshole and smear all over her bum and driver’s car seat. The worst part had been Hank’s scornful remarks when she got home and cold treatment of her for days after, her husband despised weak women. It was part of the reason he’d been attracted to her in the first place, a confident, bold young woman, in a science division, giving ideas and lectures to pig-headed men; way above her station. While others would have fired her, Hank made her his personal research assistant and; as times got gradually fairer for women, promoted her to co-head of his division. She’d fallen in love with him for believing in her and Hank had reciprocated due to her strength and conviction. The moment Hank saw her in piss-stained and shit-smelling clothes, she’d lost a huge portion of that respect and had been working for months to regain it. Even now, she still got the odd, disgusted look from her husband if she needed the bathroom too often and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted him to see her as the strong woman she knew she was once more. Of course; in reality, no such thing had ever happened. Hank; still immensely guilty over his wife being trapped for decades in the Quantum realm, wouldn’t have criticized her for bringing home anything less than a severed head; let alone a messy pair of trousers. Of course; thanks to the hypnotic programming, that knowledge had been lost and Janet had spent the last few weeks immensely stressed, hiding her accidents; that were now happening more and more frequently, multiple times a day. Janet’s first one that day began before she was even awake. Squirming and wriggling around in bed, her legs clenched tightly together in a dark red nightgown, Janet’s mature legs were wrapped around each in a vice-like grip, her whole body struggling to restrain the accident that the hypnotic programming was trying to force on her. In her dream, Janet was back at high school; sixteen years old, taking her exams again. She’d drank far, far too much water and was now squirming in her seat, in her tight white school blouse, her red lace bra feeling constricting to her sweaty boobs, and her white cotton panties dripping with what she hoped was sweat. ‘Mrs. Dyne!’ said her teacher; Hank Pym, in a thunderous voice. Her husband and teacher was dressed in a sharp, black suit and holding a long measuring ruler that sent a huge chill of fear racing down Janet’s spine and made her start to lose control at her seat in the class, pee flooding through her white panties in fear, as all her classmates turned to watch Janet wet herself, who was sobbing in terror. Laughter and insults filled the room, as back in the real world, Janet’s nightgown was wet at its bottom, the smallest of puddles forming under her bum, as her body shook with desperation; trying in vain to wake her up. ‘Janet… come to the front of the class. Now!’. Somehow, hearing her first name was far scarier and she stood up, trembling and soaking, her black schoolgirl shoes walking through her puddle, as she stood before Mr. Pym. ‘You’ve had an accident, didn’t you?’. ‘Y-yes s-sir!’ sobbed Janet. ‘P-please l-l-let me c-clean up!’. ‘Not before your punishment Janet. Bend over the desk’. She hesitated. ‘Now Janet!’ his scream terrified her and in the real world, another burst of pee leaked from her pussy, spraying through her fingers, where she was desperately holding herself; clenching her pussy with both hands, as she whimpered like a little girl, in both worlds, her deep, hypnotic sleep unable to be breached, her smooth, mature legs, glistening with wetness, as a loud fart filled the air: ‘BRRRRRAAAAAFHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRTRRRRRRRRRTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSS’. ‘Janet has been a disgusting, dirty, weak little girl class and she must be punished’. ‘No sir, please, don’t!’. But it was too late. Janet; trembling over the teacher’s desk, sobbed in horror as her skirt was flipped up, exposing her shitty, wet panties to the whole class, as she farted putrid stink towards them, making everyone laugh and gag in horror. Then, the blows landed; the ruler smacking against her ass, as she cried on the table. The blows landed again and again and Janet cried out, as piss and shit anew flooded from her white wet knickers and down the back of her legs, as her teacher stared at her with utter contempt, and the sound of people laughing filled her ears. ‘No!!!’ she screamed, the sound of her voice being replaced with an alarm; as she jolted awake. For a moment, Janet was relieved but then, she felt around her crotch and a chill ran down her spine. ‘Oh no! No, no, no!’ Throwing back her duvet, she nearly gagged at the smell, finding her long legs covered in piss, her nightgown smeared in shit and stained yellow; with wet patches everywhere, while the sheets were utterly foul. It was not helped by the fact that; despite everything; Janet found herself repeatedly farting, the putrid, horrific, tangy, yet bitter odor only adding to the room’s foul concoction: ‘PRRRRRRF!’, ‘PRRRRRFFFFFFSSSSSS’, ‘SRRRRRPHHHHHMMMMM!’ FLRRRRRRRRRRPRRRRRFFFFFHHH!’. ‘Oh god’ said Janet, as the last wave of shit and pee flooded from her exhausted asshole, as she trembled in her blankets; still continuing to have an accident and wet & shit the bed. Suddenly, a voice called out and Janet’s blood ran cold. ‘Everything alright up there?’ called Hank Pym, having barely head his wife’s upset moans. ‘I-I’m fine!’ she said unconvincingly. ‘Well, I’m just bringing you some breakfast!’. Janet’s mind worked at a million miles per hour. Frantically jumping from her bed, Janet quickly grab an experimental piece of shrink tech and threw it towards her bed, shrinking the entire structure down to the size of a pin. She then jumped into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door just in time to avoid her husband seeing her in her foul nightclothes, covered in piss. ‘Good morning, I brought you some breakfast…Where is the bed?’ asked Hank Pym. ‘Oh, I’m using it for an experiment!’ she said hurriedly, turning on the shower and jumping side. ‘An experiment?’ asked Hank, confused. ‘Y-yes, to test the dexterity of cotton and foam surfaces when exposed to a heating agent combined with Pym Particles. Pym nodded approvingly, impressed by his wife’s work ethic. ‘Well, just make sure you get our bed back by tonight’ he warned. ‘I want to be able to sleep’. ‘Yes dear!’ she said, hurriedly scrubbing herself clean and throwing the wet, dirty lingerie behind the toilet. Hank Pym gave a devilish smile, slowly unlocking the bathroom door before he stepped inside and pulled off his early morning clothes: A suit, tie; white socks, and black shoes. He then pulled back the curtain, Janet having just narrowly cleaned herself in time, as she jumped in shock. ‘Hank, don’t scare me like that!’ she lectured, as her husband stepped into the bathtub with her; not noticing the last of Grace’s piss and shit wash away, much to her relief. ‘You are looking delightful today my darling’ said Hank Pym, a lustful edge to his voice. Right now, Janet felt anything but sexy and didn’t want her husband touching her; in case he found a part of her body she hadn’t cleaned. However, seeing how throbbing hard his cock was, standing up thick and straight, as well as the fact he knew she wasn’t on her period, Janet decided to get creative. Pulling him into a passionate kiss, she then pushed him against the wall, as hot water ran over both their bodies and she fell to her knees; slowly kissing down his body. ‘You haven’t done this in… a while!’ moaned Hank Pym. ‘I’ve just been thinking about how you rescued me’ said Janet seductively, as she began kissing her husband’s balls. ‘I was the one who caused you to get trapped there in the first place’ he said glumly. ‘That’s not true and you know it. You came back for me. Now, let me show you how grateful I can be’. Hank Pym’s eyes rolled back in his head as Janet Van Dyne slid his thick cock deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat; yet she did not gag. Starting to enjoy herself and feeling more powerful and in control than just a few minutes ago; sat wet and ashamed on her bed like a soiled toddler, she pleasured her husband thoroughly, extracting sweet and rough moans from him as his seed leaked from his mouth and dripped down her throat and out her lips in hot, white bursts. Eventually, he lost complete control and Janet swallowed as much as she could manage, before letting her husband release the rest over her face and mature, faded pink but still large breasts. Janet smiled. It felt good to be in control. That feeling lasted roughly three-and-a-half hours. As Janet headed into town, she was sitting in the driver’s seat of their car, preparing to get some supplies in for dinner. Heading to the local grocer’s, she found a growing feeling of discomfort in her bladder and realized; to her horror, that she already badly needed to use the toilet again. ‘Not again!’ she moaned. ‘This is ridiculous. What is wrong with me?’. Tears came to Janet’s eyes but she wiped them away quickly. She was not weak. She would not be weak. She would hold it, buy groceries and then make her way home. She was a mature woman, not a weak, elderly, doddery old fool. She would hold it. She could hold it. ‘I can hold it’ she said to herself. So, Janet Van Dyne sat in her car; driving to the store, in beige cream trousers and a white blouse, fidgeting and squirming, occasionally holding herself, yet refusing to allow herself to think properly about how much pain she was in from holding her bladder. Even as the pain made her shoulders tremble with exhaustion and Janet felt sweat pouring down the back of her neck, she refused. ‘It’s all in your head. You control your own body’. She had no idea how wrong she was at this moment; thanks to Becky’s programming, however, Janet refused to see it. So, the drive continued, with the mature superheroine slowly growing more desperate, small, smelly farts with high-pitched whines, escaping her bum; stinking the car. Lowering the window, she could hear the sound of rain pouring down loudly onto the car but blocked it out. She wouldn’t think of rain, water, toilets, how badly she wanted one, how much she was containing inside her… ‘Ah, here we are!’ said Janet with false happiness, trying to deny her own thought processes by heading into the store. Walking with her pants tightly buckled and her legs clamped together, Janet felt incredibly uncomfortable, the metal of her belt digging painfully into her overworked tummy, as her body desperately fought to let out another fart… or worse. Janet refused to indulge it, however, grabbing a shopping trolley as she walked around the store; slowly, as the pressure in her bladder got worse and worse. ‘I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can… I can… I… oh fuck!’. Janet’s thoughts turned panicked in a second, as her knees nearly gave way and Janet felt an incredible pain tear through her stomach. Her legs shook so violently for several seconds, she was almost worried she was having a stroke but the pain was nowhere near her heart, it was from her bladder to her asshole and she could feel it slowly opening, a long, slow, horrifically smelling fart slowly pouring out of her; accompanied by a high-pitched whine, despite her embarrassment. ‘PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGHHHHHHH!’. Janet’s face blushed bright red and she speed-walked to the next aisle as several customers gave her dirty looks of disapproval. Janet shook heavily as she picked up the last of her items, taking them to a self-scan checkout, as she began freaking out. ‘Oh god, I’m shitting my pants! I’m shitting my pants’. It was true. Janet could feel a thick but mushy load of poo slowly slide out of her clenched bum, forced into a thick, thin stream and already, beginning to strain against her knickers. She had no idea how long it would be until the smell was noticeable to others or how long it would take to show against her trousers but she didn’t want to stay in the store long enough to find out. Janet hurriedly tried to get the last of her items through before she lost any more of her control, her body shaking, as a cashier; noticing her tense state, approached. ‘Are you okay m’am?’ he asked. ‘I’m fine, thank you’. ‘Are you sure? You look-’ he began but Janet cut him off. ‘I said I’m fine young man! Now, why don’t you get out of my way, before I have to call your manager over!’. The young man backed off apologetically, as Janet grabbed her items and slowly, began to walk out. She felt guilty for biting the man’s head off but she had no choice. Already; looking around, she could see people noticing it. ‘Oh my god!’. ‘Ugh, it stinks in here!’. ‘What the hell is that smell?’. ‘Do they ever clean these stores?’. ‘Smells like a toddler shit themselves’. Janet nearly wanted to cry at that last comment. That’s how she felt at the moment. A toddler. She hadn’t even managed to go to the store successfully without starting a major accident. God, she hadn’t felt this humiliated in a long time and, as she walked towards the store exit, she could feel her poo start to mush thickly against her trousers. Janet moaned and whimpered in horror as she stumbled back to her car, farts emanating from her backside repeatedly, as several dozen people begin to gag from the smell and watch her in disgust, seeing a growing brown stain on the back of her beige trousers. ‘That’s utterly foul!’. ‘What a pathetic old tart!’. ‘Truly vile!’. ‘What kind of disgusting old bitch shits herself in public!’. ‘Wear a diaper love!’. The last comment; shouted directly at her, made Janet began to sob with tears, as she threw herself and her shopping into the car, sat into her seat; squashing shit all over her bum and onto her car seat before she sped out of the car park, wailing in pain and humiliation, as Janet Van Dyne began to completely shit her pants. It poured out of her in huge thick strands, not stopping for a second, her asshole throbbing and beating like her racing heartbeat, as the woman cried in dismay at her ongoing accident. Piss began to flood out as well, soaking through the front of her trousers and forming a wet, sludgy puddle in her car seat; as it began to mix with the shit, before pouring over the front. Hundreds of miles away, Becky watched in fits of laughter, as the hidden cameras she’d had Kamala place in the woman’s car showed the original Wasp’s accident in HD quality. By now, a brown puddle was flowing over the car seat infrequent, messy streams, pouring down the back of Janet’s legs and into her shoes, while a series of loud farts could still be heard: ‘PFFFRRRRRRRRRRSSSHYYY’, ‘PFFFFFFFFF’, ‘PGGGHRRRRSSSSSSSS’, GRRRRFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHPPPP’. ‘Oh god please no!’ screamed Janet hysterically, speeding past several cars, sobbing in a mad fury, trying to deny the reality of her situation. Unfortunately, there was no escaping this. Janet had completely shit herself; with dozens in public seeing her, as well as wetting herself to boot, as if it hadn’t already been embarrassing enough. It was utterly humiliating and worse, Janet had no idea how she could even begin to hide this mess from her husband. Beginning to hyperventilate, Janet pulled over and parked the car in a relatively secluded spot, then tried to calm herself down from a full-blown panic attack. ‘Hank can’t see this!’ she said aloud, crying with every word. ‘He can’t’. Janet thought desperately for a solution but nothing was coming to mind. Even if she could clean the car in time before heading home, there was no getting around her clothes; half stained brown, with massive wet patches on every part, as her exhausted asshole finally stopped expelling shit, her streams of piss slowing to a few drops, before petering out. She had no change of clothes to hide her accident behind… except… ‘That’s it!’ said Janet triumphantly. Janet and Hank; ever the prepared couple, kept multiple variants of their suits in different places. They had two in different parts of their homes and; as she now remembered, one each in their car, shrunk down to the size of a cocktail sausage, hidden inside a secret compartment within the door. Grimacing as Janet moved to grab it, feeling the shit that was sludging horribly inside her panties, Janet unlocked a vial of Pym Particles, hidden inside her handbag, and used it to enlargen the Wasp suit; which formed around her body and ejected her ruined clothes in a nano-second. ‘Warning, foreign contaminants found in suit’ said a dull, robotic voice. ‘Recommendation: Purge materials from suit’. ‘Do it!’ said Janet. Her suit’s robotics then ran a gas cloud through her shit; blinding her temporarily, as she felt piss and shit go from liquid and solid into gas form, before being released from her suit in a concentrated burst of air. Janet stood in her puddle; now a huge lake from her perspective in the Wasp suit, as she looked towards it with disdain. ‘I need to get home and chance, then I’ll sort out this mess’. Shrinking the car down, Janet held it like a tiny briefcase and flew through the air, racing for home; as Becky’s video feed cut out, the signal interfered with too much by the shrinkage. ‘Clever old minx’ admitted Becky. ‘Well, these have been fun. I’ll have to get Kamala to gather more. Soon, I think it will be time for her next accident, and this time, the whole world will see what a baby she really is’. Becky began to laugh and then continued, laughing maniacally for several seconds. After a while, however, Becky stopped and felt awkward. ‘Wow, that whole evil laugh thing is overrated when you’re alone!’. TWO WEEKS LATER Michaela was getting seriously worried. The gossip had been all over twitter: Across the world, some of the world’s most famous superheroes; all female, had been suffering embarrassing accidents. A few had been leaked to TMZ of training videos, where heroes like Captain Marvel had suffered embarrassing losses of control. Some had been more public, like the famed scientist, Janet Van Dyne, caught on camera losing control in her car and at a grocery store. Yet perhaps most personally and worryingly to her, was that of Ms. Marvel’s. The young hero had been rescuing people from a bridge-fire, when she had suddenly become incredibly desperate for the toilet, piss rolling down her red and blue tights on Live TV, for all the world’s news networks to see. That; while gross, was not the truly shocking thing to Michaela. She figured that Kamala; in her eagerness not to let anyone get hurt, could have neglected going to the bathroom for a few hours. No, what alarmed her was how Kamala had then abandoned the people on the bridge; trying to find a bathroom, only to suffer a humiliating accident as half-a-dozen news choppers followed her and watched the young hero shit her pants through her enlarged butt for over four minutes straight. It was a front-page story in most countries and the ramifications had been huge. People were talking about: ‘The Great Superhero Scandal’, female heroes around the world were being grilled about nothing else but their bathroom habits in interviews and a few national governments were even talking about sanctions against female superheroes, if their powers and bodies were so volatile that they suffered accidents like this on a regular basis. Michaela didn’t believe it. None of their behaviours made sense and her suspicions had been confirmed when she received a text-message from an unknown number: ‘DIURETICS. HEROES POISONED. KAMALA KHAN. INSTIGATOR OR CATSPAW? INVESTIGATE. I AM TARGET. GOING UNDERGROUND. CALL WHEN YOU HAVE ANSWERS’. ‘What the hell did the message mean?’ thought Michaela, as she walked onto the college campus. ‘Kamala, an instigator… for what? Poisoning?! No way!’. She was certain of that last part. Kamala hadn’t left her college room for three days, after Carol Danvers stripped her of their shared mantle and told Kamala that if she ever saw her using it again, Carol would treat her no differently to any other villain. She’d been despondent since, swinging between sobs, self-hatred and general isolation, with nothing able to pull her out of it. Michaela knew there had to be more to this than Kamala being a coward and having a weak bladder at the worst possible moment. Nakia and Zoe had been acting strange too. She’d seen footage of their own accidents shared in a bunch of local Whatsapp groups, from college chats to ‘EmbarassingPublicDisplays’, a group she’d uncovered while looking into everything. Nakia losing control at protests? Zoe at shopping centres? Michaela wasn’t going to tolerate this any longer. TEN MINUTES LATER ‘What the hell is up with you three?!’ asked Michaela bluntly. Nakia and Zoe shifted awkwardly in their seats on the carpet, while Kamala; puffy-eyed from crying, just looked exhausted and resigned to everything, laying on her bed in pyjamas, clearly worn out from sleep deprivation. ‘I lost control!’ said Kamala quietly. ‘I abandoned the people because I was trying to avoid humiliating myself and instead, I just let everyone down more. I’m a failure’. ‘That wasn’t like you! Zoe, you’re normally so controlled and strong; you cringe when people do anything remotely awkward in public, yet you’re having accidents now?’. Zoe blushed, frustrated to be talking about this in front of Nakia. ‘Guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I hate that it’s happening but what can I do to stop it? It’s like my body’s regressed lately, okay? I don’t know what the hell is happening!’. ‘Me neither’ admitted Nakia, staring at the carpet in embarrassment. ‘I thought at first I’d been eating badly or that it was some chemicals but now… I feel like my friend’s sisters have better bladder control than me and they’re eight!’. ‘Look, can we not talk about this!’ said Kamala, exaggerated. ‘You guys know this has been happening to me for years. I just messed up too badly on the bridge. I’ve had so long to control this, you’ve been trying to help with it for ages and nothing’s worked. What’s the point of even trying?’. Michaela, Nakia and Zoe all slowly turned to stare at Kamala, giving her concerned, scared looks. Kamala felt uneasy. ‘Why are you staring?’ asked Kamala, confused. There was silence for a moment. ‘Kamala, you haven’t been having accidents for years. This all started only a few weeks ago’ said Nakia, her eyes widening in growing horror. ‘What are you on about? I’ve had this stuff since I got my powers’. ‘You’ve never mentioned that’. ‘You’ve all seen it!’. ‘No Kam, we haven’t’. A tense silence fell in the room, as Kamala looked frightened and the others looked seriously concerned. Suddenly, Zoe glanced towards something on Kamala’s desk. ‘You said you’ve been too busy with superhero stuff to go out much recently, right?’ asked Zoe, standing up. ‘Yeah, why?’. ‘What’s that?’. Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Michaela looked towards Kamala’s desk, staring at a new laptop on her desk; the front pushed half-down, obscuring what was on the screen. ‘Oh… that… I got that ages ago’ said Kamala, though in truth, she felt uncertain of the words she was saying. The rest of her friends stood up. ‘Can we see it?’ asked Michaela, slowly approaching it regardless. ‘I’d rather you didn’t’ answered Kamala. ‘Why?’. ‘I-I’m not meant to touch it’. ‘You said it’s yours’. ‘Y-yeah, it is but… I mean… I… I… I just feel like I shouldn’t…’. ‘Kamala… what’s on that computer’ asked Nakia, now seriously scared, as all three gathered around the desk. ‘I… I…’. Tears ran down Kamala’s face, as her eyes widened in shock and she began to shake violently. ‘I don’t know’ she whispered, horrified. Michaela opened the lid of the laptop and gasped at what she saw. The others did the same, with Kamala breaking into full on sobs; recoiling in horror, while Nakia and Zoe’s expressions turned to rage. The screen was full of two dozen different live camera feeds, replaying accidents from various superheroines all over the world. Looking from video-to-video, they could see recordings of Spiderwoman wetting herself at band-practice, Janet Van Dyne losing control in her car, Jennifer Walters shitting her pinstripe suit in front of a client and dozens of other heroines; suffering a variety of accidents. ‘What the fuck, that’s us!’ screamed Zoe, as she saw the video feeds containing Nakia and Zoe’s accidents. Both blushed bright red at seeing the other’s humiliation. The two girls turned towards Kamala, grabbing and shoving her against the wall. ‘Why the fuck do you have these?! What kind of sick fuck are you?!’ screamed Zoe. ‘I thought we were your friends!’ shouted Nakia, tears streaming down her face. ‘Hey!’ shouted Michaela, getting all of their attention. ‘It’s not Kamala’s fault! Look!’. The three girls approached the laptop and gasped; Kamala being the most horrified of all. There, a video had been started by Michaela, showing Becky; her sworn nemesis, subjecting Kamala to a series of hypnotic controls. Other video feeds then showed Kamala with Nakia and Zoe, all of which demonstrated one undeniable truth to them: Lockdown had control of their minds. ‘How… how the fuck is this possible?!’ said Kamala, recoiling in horror. ‘… That night… the night we went drinking… Becky robbed a bank that night…’. ‘There’s no way we wouldn’t have tried to stop her!’. ‘Obviously, we did!’. Nakia sat down next to Kamala, tears in her eyes, while Zoe stood in front of her; looking guilty. ‘I’m sorry Kamala’ said Zoe apologetically. ‘I didn’t know she’d done this to you’. ‘I’m not angry at you’ said Kamala, dangerously quiet. ‘I’m angry at her. I’m going to kill her! I’m going to kill that bitch!’ screamed Kamala. Both Nakia and Zoe leapt back, scared at their usually calm friend’s rage, however as Kamala stood out, Michaela blocked her path to the door. ‘You can’t confront her!’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can and I will!’. ‘No, you won’t! The fact she’s able to control you means that she must have a trigger phase to do it. If you go and march to where she is; even if you find her first, all she needs to do is say the phrase and you’re her slave again!’. ‘Not if I rip her head off first’ snarled Kamala viciously. Her friends looked at one another; frightened, yet Michaela stood her ground. ‘Kamala, I know what she’s done to you is horrible-’ began Michaela. ‘-No you don’t! She made me hurt innocent people, fellow heroes, my idol!’ screamed Kamala, her whole body shaking with pain. ‘She made me turn on Captain Marvel and humiliate her! She has to pay! She has to!’. Michaela threw herself around Kamala, wrapping her into a tight hug as the young heroine collapsed; wracked by sobs, while her three friends held her tightly. After several minutes, Kamala slowly began to calm down, her crying slowly calming, until finally, Kamala sat up, looking at everyone with a tired expression. ‘What do we do then?’ asked Kamala desperately. ‘We could go to the other heroes?’ suggested Michaela. ‘That won’t work. Captain Marvel’s blacklisted me with every team and if I tell them about some hypnosis scheme, they’ll think I’m making excuses to be let back in’. ‘We could show them the laptop’ offered Nakia. ‘I doubt it’ said Michaela frustratedly. ‘Kamala’s probably got a hypnotic trigger in her if this thing even leaves the room, she’d smash it before we even got down the hall!’. ‘Hey!’ said Kamala. ‘Sorry, I mean, Becky would make you smash it’. ‘Well then what do we do?!’ asked Kamala desperately. There was silence for several moments. ‘We deprogram you’ said Michaela simply. ‘How?’ asked Nakia. ‘Without the code words, it’s going to be near-impossible’. ‘Does anyone have a better idea?’. Nobody did so the girls got to work. Sitting Kamala down, Michaela found an old pocket watch in Kamala’s draws and decided it would make a useful focal point for their commands. She then got Nakia to give Kamala a back-rub; trying to relax her, while Zoe made some hot chocolate. After a while, the tension in Kamala’s body was a little eased; though her face was still full of concern. ‘Michaela… if Becky can take control of me at any time…’. ‘Then the moment she calls, you could be under her control. Reveal what’s happening, then everything’s screwed’. ‘Then we don’t answer the call’ said Zoe. ‘We can’t afford to ignore it’ explained Michaela. ‘Lockdown would have definitely programmed Kamala to answer her calls as a priority, no matter the time. Not answering would be the same as telling her, then we’re back to square one’. ‘But she didn’t account for everything’ said Nakia. ‘We knew our behaviour wasn’t normal. Kamala thought this had been happening for years. Fake memories and experiences, right?’. Kamala nodded; disgusted. ‘Then, why weren’t we programmed like that?’. Michaela thought about it for several moments, then laughed bitterly. ‘She’s lazy’ said Michaela. ‘You two don’t always fight with Kamala do you, you were just helping her take down Becky, right?’. Nakia and Zoe nodded uncertainly. ‘I guess so’ said Zoe. ‘I still can’t remember it but I know that before, we haven’t been with Kamala regularly in fights’. ‘Exactly!’ said Michaela. ‘She wasn’t expecting you. She’s a petty asshole and a bitch, so when you were there, she put in the programming so she could humiliate you but she was careless. Lazy. She didn’t even bother to make it seem normal to you both, just figured you wouldn’t tell the difference’. ‘Oh that bitch!’ said Nakia, insulted despite everything. ‘We need to get started’ said Michaela hurriedly. ‘Becky might call in five hours or five minutes. We have to start now’. So, Michaela got to work, sliding the watch in front of Kamala’s face multiple times, as she began a countdown. ‘Follow the watch Kamala. Let it relax you. You can feel yourself getting sleepier and sleepier. Now, as I count down from 5, you’re going to slip deeper and deeper into a rest, that will turn into a sleep, where you will hear only what I say’. Kamala felt her eyes drifting, the watch going in and out of focus, as the hypnotic trance began to take over. ‘Feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep, as you feel the relaxation increase with each number… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… you are now in a deep, relaxed sleep, totally asleep, only aware of my voice’. Kamala was snoring heavily; sitting in her chair, her shoulders and head slumped, awaiting commands from Michaela. ‘Now then Kamala… I want you to picture the words and controls, buried deep in your mind, that Lockdown put there. I want you to feel those words slowly ease out of your subconscious as I count down from 5-1’. ‘5… 4…. 3… 2… 1… let the words disappear from your mind!’. ‘PRFFFFFFFFFFFFFPHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS’. Kamala let rip an enormous, putrid fart, enlarging her ass to the size of a sofa cushion on each side, as her dark blue pyjama bottoms ripped open, exposing her ass to Nakia and Zoe. Both couldn’t help but laugh in shock, while Michaela stared; frustrated. ‘Shut up, both of you!’. Michaela took a deep breath and focussed. She had to figure out how to do this, for her friends; as well as the countless others who could be hurt by Becky’s schemes if she wasn’t stopped. The damage already done had been serious. There were more supervillain attacks than ever and less people trusted their heroes to protect them, when female heroines; once considered pillars of strength, were pissing and shitting themselves like little girls half-way through fights. She had to find a way to stop this and she would not give up. ‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you will feel your mind reject any previous commands it has been given. You will feel them slip from your subconscious, rise through your brain and vanish, easing out of your body, like tension in a muscle’. Kamala remained still, as Zoe and Nakia watched silently. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Release!’. Kamala Khan did release… another enormous and loud fart, enlarging her butt so much that she became unstable in the chair and tipped over, the sudden shock waking her up in a panic, as Zoe and Nakia moved to help her up. ‘Ugh… what happened?’. Michaela slapped her head to her forehead. ‘I can’t get the hypnotic triggers out!’ she said frustratedly. ‘Becky’s are too deep. We need more time to figure out an answer’. ‘But we don’t have more time!’ said Kamala desperately. ‘She could call at any moment!’. ‘I know!’. Michaela thought hard about what to do. They needed time but the moment Becky called, Kamala would end up back in a trance. She would give them away… unless… ‘Kamala, get back in that chair, quickly! I have an idea that will buy us more time!’. ‘What do you mean?’. ‘We need to figure out how to undo the hypnotic programming. I can’t do that without testing it on others first and to do that, you can’t tell Becky what we’ve learned’. ‘Well, how are you going to stop me?’ asked Kamala impatiently, scared Becky might call at any moment. ‘We need to hide your memories’. Zoe and Nakia looked at each other, confused. Kamala was for a moment but then she realised. ‘You want to…’. ‘Put you back in a trance and hide away your memories of learning this, yeah. If you can’t remember it, you can’t tell Becky’ explained Michaela. Kamala sat silent for a few seconds. ‘Mike’ she whispered, sounding afraid. ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want her to control me’. Michaela walked over and hugged Kamala, holding the trembling hero. ‘I know… but if you don’t, I can’t see another way to stop her. Can you?’ asked Michaela. Kamala thought about it for a few moments, then shook her head. ‘Alright. Let’s do it’. THE NEXT DAY ‘Alright, we only have a few hours until we re-awaken Kamala and we need to practice with this guys, come on!’ said Michaela firmly, as Nakia and Zoe prepared for another practice run. Michaela’s plan for Kamala had worked. She had successfully programmed Kamala to hide away the memories of the past several hours, replacing them with false-memories of reviewing the video-feeds for Becky, while implanting a trigger word: ‘Bravery’, that would restore her memories; though only when spoken by Michaela, or Zoe and Nakia as a backup in case an emergency happened. Now, they were practicing to see what they could understand of the hypnosis on their own. The results so far had not been promising. Since they knew that Becky had been sloppy with Zoe and Nakia, they decided that trying to deprogram one of them as practice for Kamala would be a good first step. Unfortunately, while Michaela had made them obey some basic commands, she needed to get them into a deep trance if she was going to have any hope of achieving the same thing with Kamala. Since it was a hot day, Michaela had stripped down to a dark red vest top and thin blue jeans, while Nakia wore a green sleeveless shirt and dark red jeans, with Zoe wearing a white crop top and black jeans. All three were sweating from the heat and nerves as they prepared for things to get serious. ‘Okay… who wants to go first?’. Zoe looked towards Nakia and saw that her friend looked uncomfortable. Though she would never admit it, Zoe had a major crush on Nakia and ironically, Nakia felt exactly the same way towards Zoe. Wanting to put her more at ease; as well as wanting to impress her, Zoe stepped forwards. ‘I’ll do it’. ‘Okay, let’s do this’. Michaela began to swing the pocket watch; a more detailed golden one she had brought from her home, as Nakia dimmed the lights. Feeling herself becoming more and more drowsy, Zoe was soon under the hypnotic trance and Michaela considered what kind of scenario she could make her run through as a test. Meanwhile, though Nakia was blushing as she realised it, the sight of Zoe in a hypnotic state turned her on. The way she stood there; motionless, completely at their mercy, it made naughty thoughts run through her head. She felt her nipples harden as she imagined walking over to Zoe, rubbing their bodies together, kissing her, sliding her hands through her soft hair and over her body, inside those tight trousers and sliding her fingers deep into Zoe’s- ‘-Nakia, any ideas?’. ‘Huh? Oh, yeah… ugh… let’s make her a gassy pop singer. Let’s see what happens’. ‘Um… okay’ said Michaela, slightly weirded out by the suggestion but going with it anyway. ‘Zoe, as I countdown from 5, you will awaken as a famous pop singer. You are giving a live performance to an audience of thousands of fans, yet you badly have to fart and won’t be able to stop. Everytime you do… you’ll be immensely embarrassed but keep performing anyway’. Nakia stared into Zoe’s eyes; her own full of arousal, as she looked over her friend in this intimate state of vulnerability. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Awaken!’. ‘Hi everyone!’ said Zoe, in a voice far higher and enthusiastic than her normal tone. ‘I am literally so excited to be here, let’s get the music going!’. Nakia and Michaela stared at each other incredulously; before beginning to laugh uncontrollably, as Zoe broke into song: I heard you're feeling nothing's going right
Why don't you let me stop by?
The clock is ticking, running out of time
So we should party, all night So cover your eyes, I have a surprise As Nakia and Michaela began to calm down, a loud fart ripped from out of Zoe’s backside; causing the young woman to blush Scarlett red and clutch her bum, yet she didn’t stop singing, even as the smell of morning Nutella toast and orange juice came out through her butt as a putrid, eye-watering smell. 
I hope you got a healthy appetite
If you wanna dance, if you want it all
You know that I'm the girl that you should call Another loud fart ripped from Zoe’s bum, causing her to dance desperately on the spot; as she held her anus, with neither Nakia or Michaela sure if this was hypnotised or real desperation. Nevertheless, she continued singing and began pointing towards Nakia. Girl, when you're with me
I'll give you a taste
Make it like your birthday everyday
I know you like it sweet
So you can have your cake
Give you something good to celebrate Nakia blushed redder than a tomato, as Michaela smiled smugly at them. ‘The lyric is boy, not girl’ whispered Nakia. ‘Yep’ confirmed Michaela. ‘That must just be her’. ‘Shut up’ said Nakia, though she was breathing heavily now, which only got more rapid as Zoe approached her and began shaking her body inches from Nakia, her boobs shaking loosely in the spacious crop top. So make a wish
I'll make it like your birthday everyday
I'll be your gift
Give you something good to celebrate Pop your confetti
Pop your Pérignon
So hot and heavy, 'til dawn
I got you spinning
Like a disco ball
 Nakia’s legs were shaking with excitement as she stared towards Zoe, her eyes fluttering between her friend’s breasts and face, their lips only inches from each other, as Zoe sung. ‘Zoe… awaken!’ said Michaela. Nakia was immensely disappointed as Zoe awoke and; realising how close she was, recoiled back several ft. ‘Damn girl, what did you hypnotise me to do, be a lesbian?!’ joked Zoe, blushing at how close she and Nakia had been. ‘Nope’ said Michaela smugly. ‘Just to fart and sing’. There was a tense, sexual silence in the room for several seconds. ‘Alright Nakia… you’re up!’ said Michaela. Nakia went under the hypnosis even faster than Zoe did, her head slumped forwards; asleep and standing, as Zoe admired her crush in this state. She had to admit, it felt intimate, exposing and hot, though the next command from Michaela made the feelings even stronger. ‘Nakia… fart!’. A loud, vicious smelling gas blew from Nakia’s bum as Zoe’s eyes widened, somehow finding the sight of this incredibly arousing. Even the smell didn’t disturb her as much as she thought it should and she could feel her light blue panties underneath her jeans beginning to get damp, as she bit her lip in pleasure. ‘Again!’. Zoe had to supress a moan as Nakia let out another putrid fart, with Zoe’s panties going from damp to thoroughly wet, as she clamped her legs together, hugely enjoying the sight of Nakia so submissive, yet dirty; filthy, and depraved. She’d never felt so turned on by something so unorthodox. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Michaela giving the command again without losing control of herself in a way she wasn’t quite ready for. ‘Wait, Michaela-’ she began but it was too late. ‘Awaken!’. To her relief; yet also disappointment, Nakia’s eyes fluttered open and her normal conscious returned. Both Nakia and Zoe stared at each other for a long while, both aroused by the experience, as Michaela looked on, amused. ‘You two look happy’ she said suggestively. Both girls became defensive. ‘It’s just the programming!’. ‘Yeah, whatever that sick fuck Becky’s done to us, she’s messed with our heads’. ‘Absolutely!’. ‘Totally’. ‘Yep!’ ‘Yep!’. Michaela raised one eyebrow. ‘Uh-huh. Well anyway, that’s a start. Let’s see what else I can figure out’. For the next few hours, Michaela worked tirelessly to test the hypnotic effects on both women and see what she could undo, restrict, replace or limit, with some promising results. She found that she could restrict Zoe’s chances of wetting herself by making her senses more heightened as she grew desperate, while removing some of the psychological barriers preventing her from using public and private toilets sooner. For Nakia, she was able to trigger constipation in her whenever she was about to shit her pants, giving the young woman a few extra minutes to find a toilet while she was backed up. At which point, Michaela had placed a new trigger that wiped the old conditioning from her mind; relative to this condition, allowing her to shit in peace. Unfortunately, the results were still limited. To get even that, Zoe had made her way through three pairs of Kamala’s stretchy trousers, wetting herself twice by mistake and once while waiting for new hypnotic triggers to be implemented by Michaela. Nakia had suffered similar accidents, four pairs of trousers covered in the young woman’s shit and was not keen to suffer anymore with further experimentation. Michaela sighed. It wasn’t enough to de-program Zoe and Nakia; let alone Kamala. ‘We need to re-awaken her. We can’t make Kamala wait any longer, it’s not fair to her. We have to find a way to apprehend Betty, despite the hypnosis’. ‘How?’ asked Nakia. ‘Well, we can turn her to our side now, I’m sure of it. I could put her in a trance that makes her fight for us’ said Michaela hopefully. ‘Yeah but without removing Becky’s triggers, she’ll just get Kamala back on her side. You’ll both speak gobbledegook at her for ages, then just pull at her mind in an endless loop and that doesn’t do us any good either’ insisted Zoe. The three girls looked sullen for a while, until Michaela suddenly sat up, a brain wave hitting her. ‘Zoe, what did you just say? Repeat it!’. ‘Uh, you’ll pull at her mind in an endless loop?’. ‘No, no, before that!’. ‘You’ll speak gobbledegook at her for ages!’. Michaela leapt to her feet, ecstatic. ‘That’s it!’. THREE HOURS LATER ‘Bravery!’. Kamala gasped in horror, her memories flooding back to her, as Michaela held her still. ‘Kamala, it’s okay, we’re here, we’re here, it’s alright! We think we’ve got it!’ ‘You can get rid of the programming?!’ said Kamala excitedly. ‘Well… no’. ‘Then how exactly have you ‘Got it’ said Kamala sarcastically. ‘We need to test a theory and if it works, we might just bring her down’. ‘What’s that?’. ‘We need to hypnotise you again’. ‘… Okay’ said Kamala reluctantly. ‘To be a chicken’. ‘What?’. ‘Just trust me. Please?’. Kamala; baffled by the suggestion, was still desperate for anything that would let her escape Becky’s hypnotic control and so, she trusted her friend. ‘Okay… let’s try it’. Within a few minutes, Michaela had put Kamala into a deep trance, standing frozen and slumped forwards, as Michaela relayed the instructions. ‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you’ll begin to feel more like a chicken with every passing second. When I say ‘Transform’, you will become a chicken upon hearing that word and will behave and act like one in every way. Human language will no longer make sense to you and you will only snap out of your trance if you hear one of us three do this whistle’. Michaela let out a low pitch whistle sound. ‘During this state, no human language will make sense to you from anybody; you will be completely unable to understand it. No human language will make sense to you, you will be completely unable to understand it. Now then, let’s begin’. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Transform!’. Kamala felt herself instantly disappear and suddenly, she felt as free and worriless as a bird, her thoughts reduced to simple meanings and desires, as she looked around herself for food. ‘Food, I want food, food, corn, corn, must find corn, hmmmm, where’s the corn?’ thought Kamala, smiling as she clucked about. Her friends saw Kamala instantly began acting like a chicken, pecking her bed with her mouth, as she began flapping her arms at Zoe and Nakia, who moved out of her way; dismayed at their friend’s behaviour. Michaela grabbed the laptop and began playing an audio file, where Becky’s voice could be heard: ‘Kamala… burp!’. The words had no effect on Kamala. Grinning, Michaela gave the whistle and Kamala stopped chewing on her blanket, spitting out the silk and looking extremely annoyed. ‘Well… how did that help?’ asked Kamala, annoyed. Michaela pressed the laptop button again. ‘Kamala… burp!’. Kamala let out a rousingly loud burp, grimacing in disgust afterwards, though Nakia, Zoe and Michaela looked delighted. ‘What?’ asked Kamala, confused. ‘Kamala, Becky wasn’t just lazy… she was stupid! She just gave us the tools for her downfall!’. Kamala slowly began to grin as they explained it and; ready for a fight, grabbed her Ms. Marvel costume. Lockdown was going to pay. ONE HOUR LATER Becky was sitting in an office chair, laughing at the videos Kamala had provided when suddenly, there was a loud banging at the door. Turning instantly, the door was blown off its hinges a second later and Kamala; fully costumed, stormed inside with Zoe, Nakia and Michaela close behind her. ‘Becky, it’s over!’ shouted Kamala. Becky smiled, walking from her office towards the four. ‘Aww, look at the would-be-heroes’ said Becky patronisingly. ‘I guess you had the sense to figure something out but not enough to think of this. Kamala… obey!’. Kamala’s whole body suddenly went from a fight-stance to a passive one in the blink of an eye, as she slowly walked over to stand beside Becky. ‘You didn’t think of that, did you little heroes?’. Michaela smiled. ‘Actually, we did… Kamala, transform!’. Suddenly, Kamala began clucking and pecking at and around Becky’s feet, as the villainess looked at her incredulously, before shoving her onto her back. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ said Becky, laughing in dismay. ‘You’ve made her a passive chicken with a counter command?! You idiots! I have an override command that can blot out yours!’. ‘Kamala… supreme!’. Kamala did not respond, happily pecking at her shoes, as Becky gasped in dismay. ‘Kamala… supreme! Supreme! Supreme! Obey me!’. ‘She can’t’ explained Zoe. ‘She can’t understand human language. Becky looked at them fearfully. ‘That means she can’t understand your commands. It’s over!’ ordered Michaela. Becky drew a pistol from her waistband, pointing it towards Michaela. ‘Like hell it is!’. Before she could fire, an arrow knocked the weapon out of her hands; causing Becky to yelp in surprise. ‘Don’t bother trying to shout commands at Kate either’ said Nakia, cracking her knuckles. ‘She’s got headphones in. She won’t hear you’. Becky stared at them fearfully, as the three girls ran forward and before she could respond, simultaneously leapt forward. ‘This is for our friend!’. The three ‘would-be-heroes’ punched Becky in the stomach simultaneously, making her scream in immense pain, as she was badly winded, collapsing to the ground on her knees. As she struggled to breath, Lockdown felt a warm sensation spreading through her panties and down into her trousers, as she tried to scream in rage. ‘No…’ she gasped. ‘I… can’t… hold it!’. Rebecca St. Jude, Becky, Lockdown, the hypnotist, the aspiring super-villainess, the bitch… began to completely wet herself, soaking her tight, waist high blue jeans, a thick wet-patch expanding across them as she let out an enormous fart, which; moments later, turned out to be the prelude to her shitting her pants as well. Becky tried to moan in pain and horror but still had too little breath, as thick, crusty shit poured into her jeans and formed a horrendous smell around her. ‘God Becky, that reeks, what have you been eating here?’ asked Michaela, laughing. ‘I… I’m not like you people… I don’t have accidents… I’m not a baby… I’m…’. ‘… Live to the whole world!’ said Zoe enthusiastically. ‘That secret camera you gave Kamala in the scarf sure is nifty! The broadcasting range is incredible!’. Becky managed to gasp in horror as she realised Nakia was wearing that exact scarf and; in the distance, she could hear the sound of police vehicles and S.H.I.E.L.D. approaching. Unable to comprehend her defeat and shame, Becky passed out, her face slamming hard against the floor, as the three girls winced in pain. ‘Ouch!’ said Michaela, before whistling to restore Kamala, who blinked back into consciousness and; seeing a collapsed Becky, smiled. ‘It’s over’ said Michaela, smiling. A FEW MINUTES LATER Kamala, Zoe, Nakia, and Michaela walked out of the building as Lockdown was led away; bruised and handcuffed, by several angry heroines, escorting her personally to The Raft. As they watched her be taken away, Kamala looked sad, as the others looked at her; confused. ‘You okay?’ asked Nakia. ‘I… I don’t know’ answered Kamala honestly. ‘We stopped her but only after weeks of all this happening. If I didn’t mess up in the first place, none of this would have happened’. ‘Kamala, you can’t blame yourself!’ protested Michaela. ‘Without you being brave enough to risk going back in there, this could have gone on for months; even years’. ‘I know but still… you all suffered as much as I did. I feel like I could have done more’ said Kamala sadly. ‘Spoken like a true hero’. The four women looked up, to see Captain Marvel floating down in-front of them. ‘C-Carol, I-I mean, Captain!’ saluted Kamala, before putting her hand down; realizing how weird that looked. ‘I know what you said about not using your moniker, I swear, we didn’t go in wearing your colours and we only went in to stop Lockdown. I swear, I’ll never do that aga-’. Kamala was interrupted from her babbling by Carol pulling her into a tight hug, as Kamala and the others gasped in shock. ‘Is this a dream?’ asked Kamala, disbelievingly. ‘This better not be another hypnotic illusion’. ‘I think we’ve all had enough of those’ said Carol smiling, as their hug broke apart. ‘Kamala, I am so sorry. When I saw you abandon those people on the bridge, I didn’t even stop to think that you might have been going through things I couldn’t see and I threw my crap onto you. You know the hypnosis impacted me and I was a jerk. I judged you in the moment, not for everything else I’ve seen you do, not for the kind of stuff you did today. You took on a supervillain while under severe mental stress; without backup, because I left you high and dry’. Captain Marvel knelt down before Kamala, who was staring at Carol with tears in her eyes. ‘Kamala, you were a true hero today. All of you were. As far as I’m concerned, you can all use the moniker anytime you want. Today, you showed me what it means to live up to that; even when no one believes in you. Kamala, today… you were more worthy of the name Captain Marvel than I was. I hope; if you still want it, that you wear the Ms. Marvel name with distinction. There’s no one who deserves it more than you today. Not even me’. Tears rolled down Kamala’s face freely as she threw herself around Carol, sobbing with happiness, as the older hero held her affectionately. The others joined the hug and they held each other close, as Captain Marvel and the four young women celebrated the victory, a moment of joy and peace, after a long period of darkness. ‘Come on, let’s get you four something to eat… there’s a lot of people who want to thank you!’. EPILOGUE Kamala Khan’s blacklisting from all superhero organizations was immediately lifted after the exposure of Rebecca St. Jude’s hypnosis schemes. Following glowing recommendations from Captain Marvel and a dozen other heroes, Ms. Marvel was inducted into the Avengers and became one of their most acclaimed new heroes. She appeared; in a limited capacity, on a number of talk shows and news station interviews to further expose Lockdown’s lies, restoring the credibility of dozens of female heroes across the world. Two years later; due to her experiences at the hands of ‘Lockdown’, Kamala Khan was successfully able to resist the effects of an interstellar psychic entity and led the Avengers counter-attack against it, saving the earth from a world-ending invasion. In time, her fame and popularity grew to rival some of the most iconic superhero members of the Avengers, leading to increased tolerance towards ethnic minorities globally; something Kamala took immense pride in. Captain Marvel’s issues were eliminated by Charles Xavier, wiping the hypnotic triggers from her subconscious. Afterward, she spent several months on earth, regularly fighting alongside Kamala Khan, leading to both becoming close friends. One day; many years later, Kamala would ask Carol Danvers to be the godmother to her firstborn child, a request she gladly accepted. Michaela, Nakia, and Zoe all experienced a brief period of global fame after their discovery of the ‘Lockdown Hypno-Crisis’. During this time, they were rewarded danger-money settlements by the Avengers, compensating each of them $200,000 for their actions in stopping Rebecca St. Jude. Nakia and Zoe decided to go on a year-long holiday to Europe, during which time, they began a romantic relationship. Since returning to the United States, they have been living together in a shared apartment. Zoe does amateur modelling; though occasionally volunteers at a local homeless shelter, while Nakia started her own charity: TeenChange, an organization which became a powerful force in helping to tackle Cyberbullying, Domestic Abuse, and Addiction in the under 20’s age bracket. Michaela was offered a private position working as a criminal investigator for Jennifer Walters AKA She-Hulk. Taking the offer, Michaela has helped uncover more than a dozen criminal operations and later played a part in the arrest and imprisonment of Wilson Fisk, leading to her briefly becoming a target; causing her to leave the mainland United States for six months. Upon returning, she continued her work and remains there to this day. Rebecca St. Jude AKA Lockdown was taken to court and found guilty of numerous crimes, including robbery, arson, gross bodily harm, multiple counts of attempted murder, and a dozen counts of enhanced coercion, and was sentenced to thirty-eight years in ‘The Raft’. Unfortunately; due to a breakout by Dr. Octopus several months later, Lockdown was able to also evade imprisonment and is now on the run. Due to her advanced hypnotic skill, she is currently being hunted by highly trained, anti-telepath & hypnosis agents, working on behalf of the FBI. Her location remains unknown. Jennifer Walters; among many other Marvel heroines, was cleared from most of the public humiliation after the truth of the hypnosis scandal came out. To her eternal annoyance, her client still chose to pursue justice through Nelson, Murdock & Page, a fact which still annoys her to no end. Janet Van Dyne was greatly relieved to learn that it was not old age causing her body to so dramatically fail in many instances. Even so, the events left Janet troubled; worried that she had so easily been convinced to fear her own husband’s rebuke. After several weeks of heated arguments, the two went to a private marriage counsellor and; despite teething issues, such as Hank Pym shrinking the therapist’s office during one meeting in annoyance, the two have been making steady emotional progress. Kate Bishop received no glory for her role in exposing the hypnosis crisis, which was just how she preferred it. Two months afterward, she and Clint Barton; the original Hawkeye, were sent on a mission by S.H.I.E.L.D. to assassinate the legendary assassin: Taskmaster. The results of this mission remain classified. Gwen Stacy AKA Spiderwoman has been working to better control her new powers and has begun a; very long distance, relationship with Miles Morales. She can only stay in his universe for a few hours at a time but it is increasing with training and it is her hope that; one day, there will be no limit. Research into her cells may also crack the secret to permanently unlocking travel throughout the multiverse. Once Lockdown was arrested, Carol Danvers took the four young heroes to a diner, where dozens of female superheroes had gathered, to express their immense gratitude. During this, the heroes decided that; not wanting to allow Lockdown to permanently ruin something which was meant to only be used for light fun, they would have a hypnosis show in the diner. Michaela; having been the one able to do some basic deprogramming, was the one called upon to do it and the heroes had an excellent time, as the young heroes willingly subjected themselves to hypnosis, this time as it should be: From their own free will. THE DINER – POST CREDIT SCENE Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Gwen Stacy stood on stage, waiting nervously, as Michaela walked on; now wearing a magician’s cape, leant to her by an actual sorceress, which all of them thought was pretty damn awesome. They’d asked Kate Bishop if she’d wanted to take part and her response of throwing a drink in their faces had seemed conclusive enough as to an answer. As such, Kate watched from the crowd; laughing, as the four women stepped forward. ‘Heroes of the world! Watch as I now turn these four women into chickens but not through the power of shapeshifting! Merely, the power of persuasion!’ said Michaela dramatically. Swinging a gold-chain pocket watch in front of the four women, she snapped her fingers and the lights were dimmed; causing each of the four members on stage to only be able to concentrate on what was immediately in-front of them, exposing them quicker to the effects of hypnosis. Slowly, all four women began to sway on their feet: Kamala first; as the most heavily programmed beforehand, therefore the most at risk. Zoe went second, closely followed by Nakia. Gwen fought it for a little while longer but slowly, the slow ticking, the intense lights and the soothing calm of Michaela’s voice sent her straight into hypnotic sleep. ‘Now, I shall need help from you, my loving audience!’ said Michaela, flourishing her cape; as the other heroines laughed. ‘We shall all count down from ten and as we do, you four will feel our voices echoing in every part of your mind. As we count down from 10-1, you will feel less human and more like chickens with each passing second. You will forget social protocol, you will forget yourselves and become only chickens, until I say and the audience say the word, Excelsior! Now, let us begin the countdown. The superheroes all chanted in unison: ’10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Chickens!’. Instantly, Kamala, Nakia, Gwen and Zoe and began to cluck, peck the floor and flap their wings on stage, making strange clucking and ‘Cuckoo!’ noises, as the other heroines burst out with laughter. Kamala pecked at Nakia’s shoes as if eating corn, while Zoe and Nakia flapped their wings at each other; trying to intimidate the other into moving out of their path. Gwen’s were particularly hilarious, her spider-abilities combining with the hypnosis to cause her to start walking in chicken form up the wall; clucking as she went. Fairly soon, she was walking on the ceiling upside, sticking to the wall with her spider abilities, yet flapping her arms and pecking as if a chicken, while the heroes below laughed and prepared to catch her if she fell. ‘Alright everyone! All together now, it’s time to restore them. 3… 2… 1…’. ‘Excelsior!’. Kamala stopped pecking at her shoes and leaned up in dismay, before blushing at her own actions, while Nakia and Zoe stopped head-butting each other and flapping their arms for dominance. Gwen fell from the ceiling but her spider-human reflexes allowed her to land perfectly and she did a bow after her recovery landing, while all of them received applause. ‘Thank you very much everyone!’ said Michaela, giving a bow to the audience, as the other girls did with her. ‘Thank you and goodnight!’. THE END
  12. Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest commission of mine and please drop me a message if you want your own! Enjoy! : The Desperate Surfer Grace Taylor was beaming with delight. After months of poor weather, the seas were finally ready for proper riding again. A twenty-three-year-old professional surfer, she had been coming to Cornwall every summer for the last ten years, practicing and delighting in her favourite hobby since her early teenage years. It all started when her older brother had bought her a surfboard for her birthday and taken her on a day out to the beach in Cornwall. She hadn't expected to like it that much but the first time she held onto her board as she ascended over a wave, she had felt a rush like nothing else in this world, and despite falling off less than a few moments later, she was hooked for life. Grace was a gorgeous young woman. An intense exercise regime had given her a water-board stomach, as well as toned, sexy, and extremely long, smooth legs. Standing naked in her bedroom, her brown hair, with streaks of blonde, ran down below her shoulders and shone in the morning sunlight. Her breasts were smooth, perky, and perfectly shaped, with rays of sunshine glinting off them through her open window. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled with pride at her body. Over the years, she had inspired enormous jealousy in other women, as men they liked and even their boyfriends on occasion fell completely head over heels for Grace. Losing her virginity had been less of a challenge to find the right man and more picking and choosing from over two dozen willing candidates. The first guy had been a disappointment, losing control and releasing over her breasts halfway through. The second man had done the same when she had stared deep into his eyes with her extremely dark brown ones. Thankfully, the third had finally done the job and satisfied her, as she lost her virginity on a beach, near the ocean and under the stars, to a fellow surfer soon after her sixteenth birthday. Prom had been an exercise in fighting off men who wanted to dance with her for a while and then rip off her blue silk dress at the afterparty, while college had given her a string of relationships, most of which fulfilled her needs well enough. The same issue always arose however: No matter who they were, Grace was always more of a free-spirit than them and always had a greater partner than any of them. Despite having had several men and the odd woman, Grace's true love was the oceans. In contrast to the deep blue seas, nothing else could compare. The way the cold chill gave way to ecstatic joy as she rose in a wave, the exhilarating sense of danger from being inside a wave, the joy at pulling off a 360-degree turn to hundreds or even thousands of onlookers; sometimes even cheering her name. They would applaud, buy her drinks; most with the intent to get her into bed, a lucky few succeeding. Yet more than the applause, it was the sense of freedom. If she could have spent the rest of her life, riding on the edge of an endless wave, she would do it in a heartbeat. Nowhere else did Grace Taylor feel so alive. Even so, she was still sensible enough to keep up a broad income and did amateur modelling to fund her surfboarding and traveling lifestyle, having recently scored a contract with FireWire Surfboards; for which she had been paid handsomely. It probably helped that; upon being given some ‘Insider Knowledge’ by her fellow surfer friend Melanie Rivers, she’d flashed both the photographer and company boss; on different days, revealing her gorgeously soft-breasts to them, while posing in revealing wetsuits next to their branded boards. Thanks to that, she’d made twice the amount of money for that job she’d been initially promised; already a strong salary to start with, setting her up for the entire rest of the year to surf. A few of her friends had called her, Melanie and a couple of others out on performing sexual favours for advantage but Grace didn’t see the problem. She’d break the hand of anyone who tried to touch her without consent. She would do far worse to any man or woman who dared the same with one of her friends. But, if people wanted her, she was in the mood and they were either hot, wealthy, friendly or all of the above: Why not? Two months out of the year, she spent working, visiting family and generally off the beach. Yet elsewise, she spent all her remaining time there, traveling to the beach or with groups of friends who were part of the surfing community. She had been to thirteen countries, chasing waves in Australia, Hawaii, the United States; on both coastlines, as well as having competed in over fifty regional, national and international tournaments but she had always had a soft spot for where it had all started: Right here in Cornwall. Not wanting to waste any more time, Grace grabbed her wetsuit and sighed as she began her least favourite part of surfing. To put it simply: Getting into her gear was a nightmare. Sitting down and sliding her legs inside the tight black Lycra bottom half, they made it smoothly up to her knees before she had to begin wiggling and squirming to get the rest of her inside. 'Come on, you bitch!' moaned Grace, as the lycra finally slid over her bum. The upper portion of her wetsuit was mixed colours, grey up to and above her breasts with light and dark blues running along the sides of her chest and back; as well as dark blues extending down the arms. Despite the colour change, getting this portion on was no easier than the bottom half had been, as she fought to get her arms and chest inside the wetsuit comfortably. Having to pull on the material several times so that it was comfortable and not crushing her boobs, she eventually succeeded and did a small fist punch to the air in joy. 'Hell yeah! Beaches, here I come!'. Racing down the steps of her cottage; left as an inheritance by her grandmother, she passed through the kitchen and just as she was about to exit, swung herself back and grabbed a small tub of pills. They were vitamin supplements, which helped keep her body healthy and free of infection via contaminated seawater; as well as keeping off any excess weight. Unbeknownst to Grace, when she had ordered them online, she had neglected to notice a small but important side effect of the pills, which was to act as an exceptionally strong diuretic. Oblivious to this, she palmed three pills and swallowed them effortlessly, before putting on a pair of white trainers; her favourite running shoes, and heading towards her car. Minutes later, Grace was speeding down the road in her bright green Fiat, with her red cherry surfboard attached with strong ropes to the top of her car. As she continued down the motorway, she found that she had an unusually strong need to piss. Squirming to get comfortable, Grace found that she was unable to shake the growing need that she had to pee and found herself fidgeting even more as she became more and more desperate for the toilet. 'What the hell? What am I, five?!' laughed Grace as she fidgeted in her seat. Her self-deprecating humour began to cease as she continued to feel increasingly desperate. She couldn't understand it. She had used the toilet less than an hour and a half ago, before putting on her wetsuit. She had a strong bladder generally and was used to going long hours at the beach without bathroom breaks, yet here she was squirming around in her car seat like a ten-year-old girl, struggling not to wet herself. Crossing her legs relieved the pressure temporarily but soon enough she found that she had to change position from the groin discomfort in her bladder and after a while, her legs were crisscrossing repeatedly. Bouncing up and down on her seat, her perky bum shaking uneasily, Grace was beginning to get seriously concerned that she wouldn't be able to hold on until she reached the beach. A two-hour car journey would normally be nothing to her, however, right now, it felt like there was an iron ball in her bladder, pushing against her stomach to get out and she had barely even driven for half-an-hour. Grace could not remember the last time that she had been this desperate. She hadn't had an accident since primary school, where she was too nervous to ask where the toilets were and could only make it two-thirds of the way through the day before her then tiny bladder gave in and she had soaked her schoolgirl skirt and tights in front of her teacher. She’d been desperate a few times in school growing up or on really long surfing trips when she got high. However, she rarely even got to the level of urgently needing a bathroom. Yet for whatever reason, Grace realized that if she did not stop soon, she would lose control for the first time since childhood. 'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I need to pee so fucking badly!'. Spotting a sign that indicated a fuel station was only twenty miles away, Grace decided that, reluctantly, her surfing would have to wait a few extra minutes while she took an unscheduled bathroom break. The only question now was whether she could make the distance before for her bladder emptied of its own accord. Grace spent the next half hour or so squirming, fidgeting, tightly closing her legs, and holding herself between them; one hand stuffed tightly between her thighs while she swore at traffic. ‘Don’t think about it. I don’t need a wee, I don’t need a wee… fuck, I do need a wee! Ah, fuck this hurts!’. The young surfer’s whole body was fighting against itself, the diuretics trying to force their way out of her system, while everything else held it all back in. The subsequent result was that her growing desperation continued to get worse, yet through her sheer force of will, she held on and soon, had reached the turnoff to the fuel station. 'Thank fuck!' moaned Grace, relieved to have finally made it, though the thought of having to run across a busy car park and store to reach the toilets; while this desperate, made her blush with embarrassment. Mentally preparing herself, Grace imagined taking her hands from between her legs, walking normally into the garage and approaching the toilets: Occupied. No problem, she could wait an extra minute or two… wait, why did she feel so wet all of a sudden? ‘Miss, why are you peeing on the floor?’ asked the station attendant. Snapped out of her daydream instantly, Grace shuddered at the thought and clamped her legs tightly together, trying to prepare more sensible for when she would have to act at least semi-casual to reach the bathrooms with her dignity intact. Unfortunately, as she pulled into a parking spot next to the fuel station, she spotted a sign that made her incredibly angry: 'Employee toilets only, no customers allowed.’ 'Are you fucking kidding me!' screamed Grace, before freezing in shock as she felt a burst of piss escape from inside her and leak into the wetsuit. The sensation warmed her pussy in an unnatural feeling way, spreading around her crotch and slightly soaking between her trembling butt-cheeks. Grace blushed bright red inside her car, almost the colour of her own surfboard, as she realized that she only had minutes before she completely lost control and didn't have time to find anywhere else to go. Deciding that she could sweet-talk the petrol station manager into letting her use the toilet; well aware of the effect a young woman in tight lycra had on most guys, she stepped out of the car and; preparing to charm the manager she had briefly spotted on her way in, removed her hands from between her legs and prepared to walk into the station. She’d managed to get into exclusive London and San Francisco Nightclubs before by flashing her boobs and once; when really drunk, her pink lace knickers under a tight white skirt, at the club bouncers. She was certain that she could persuade a random petrol station attendant, on minimum wage, who probably didn’t give a shit about the rules of some monolithic corporation he was a part of, to let her use the toilet. She’d puff out her chest, put on a sweet voice; try and remain as still as possible, then he’d let her go and she could finally get the relief her body was craving. It would be easy. Grace made it about three steps forward before a huge four-second stream of pee escaped from her bladder, completely soaking her crotch and bum, before running down the sides of her legs. Caught completely off guard, Grace froze as her whole body began to shake violently and the gorgeous twenty-three-year-old surfer began to suffer a major accident. Unable to hold on even a second longer, Grace felt a hot wetness expanding around the crotch of her wetsuit and looked down in horror as she felt piss soaking her pussy, drenching her bum and running down the back of her legs. The tight lycra contained her accident and instead of soaking into the outer layers of her outfit, her piss was forced completely down her legs and exited in thick, yellow waterfalls around her ankles and flooded over her white trainers; forming a growing puddle around where she stood. When most girls wet themselves, they end up standing in small puddles of their shame and soaked clothing; with dark wet patches spread all over their light blue jeans or whatever other clothing they are wearing. Grace's accident was very different. While her wetsuit was now damp to the touch, her black lycra barely revealed any difference in contrast to before Grace lost control. The puddle around her however told a very different story, a huge pool of piss extending multiple ft. around her in all directions. 'Oh my god!', whispered Grace still not quite comprehending that she had completely wet herself for the first time in years. Standing in a daze, Grace was snapped out of her trance when she heard the sound of an automatic door opening and; terrified that it was the manager, leapt out of her puddle and practically jumped into her car, her lycra-clad wet bum squelching against the seat in a way that made Grace cringe in disgust. Igniting the car's engine and speeding out of there as fast as she did, she felt herself shaking with fear and embarrassment for the next 2-3 miles, until she was certain that no angry managers or a fleet of police cars were chasing her down for public urination. 'I can't believe I just did that! What the hell is wrong with me? I'm a fucking adult, not some baby who loses control in public. God this is so fucking embarrassing!'. As the minutes passed, Grace began to see the funny side of the whole situation and started laughing, realizing just how strange this would sound to her friends; if she ever had the courage to tell them. Even so, she was still immensely confused at just how the hell this had happened. Was she sick? Did she have some kind of bladder infection? Grace was humble enough to admit that anybody could have an accident; it wasn't as if she could deny that about herself when sitting in her wet clothing. But this all just felt completely unlike her. She tried to think back through her day and figure out if anything had caused her body to be negatively impacted. Grace had gotten up this morning, taking a shower and then immediately having breakfast, which was whole oat cereal and milk, with a glass of orange juice. She had then gone to get changed, got into her wetsuit, and left the house... except… 'Oh, shit!' realized Grace, the answer coming to her at once. The vitamin supplements she had taken earlier had diuretic properties and she now realised that she had just simply not read the side effects properly when purchasing them. A similar thing happened to her twenty-two-year-old friend Melanie; a fellow surfer, who had begun a new pill without properly checking the side effects. She had confessed the story while drunk to Grace and a few fellow Surfers, leading to a humiliating accident when Melanie had completely lost control in front of her boyfriend in the hotel elevator; trying in-vain to make it back to her room before she pissed herself. Grace also laughed, as she knew an additional part of that story that Melanie had neglected to tell the rest of her friends. Her boyfriend Thomas had known about the pill mix-up, long before Melanie realized and had neglected to tell her, as a massive piss fetishist and had greatly enjoyed seeing his girlfriend’s desperation. When she lost control in the elevator and wet herself, Thomas had been unable to contain himself and had pinned her to the walls, spanking her wet ass and somehow tearing a through lycra to drive himself inside her piss-soaked pussy; while licking her perky nipples as Melanie screamed in shocked delight. Melanie had told a shocked Grace all about the kink and just how much it drove Thomas crazy. She’d been surprised, having previously stereotyped fetishes like that as the territory of middle-aged men, rather than muscular, blonde-haired machines, who even Grace found could get her suit damp from time-to-time. Melanie; a keen eye and major gossip on all things sexual, had noticed Grace’s attractions and even offered to share Thomas. Once or twice, she’d even half-joked about Grace and her giving Thomas a piss-themed threesome for his birthday; much to Grace's embarrassment and rebukes that she had no interest in that kink. If the two lovebirds could see Grace now, she blushed at thinking what they would want to do to her. Melanie was a major exhibitionist and got off on a mixture of pleasure and humiliation, so Grace’s near miss-accident would probably have her friend kissing her neck. As for Thomas; based on Melanie’s descriptions on what he did to her after even the smallest accidents, Grace would be sore for a week and wobbling on her surfboard for a while after. Realizing that she was unintentionally biting her lip, Grace shook off those thoughts and focused on heading to the beach. Now that she had emptied herself, Grace figured that she had flushed the diuretic out of her system and would be back to her normal bladder strength. That belief lasted for about forty minutes. Grace moaned in annoyance as she felt a sudden urge to pee again and realized that the diuretic pills were still rapidly refilling her bladder, in preparation to forcibly empty them once more. No longer confused as to why; though no less annoyed, Grace began fidgeting in her car seat and grimaced at the fact that her bum was still fairly damp from her previous accident. At first, she tried to ignore it; somehow convinced this would help, yet a few minutes of growing pain in her bladder put an end to that idea. Grace then squirmed around in her seat as before, feeling the warm pee still trapped in her suit, sloshing around her bum and across her legs. A few drips and streams had soaked onto the floor of her car, though thankfully; having come into her car numerous times when dropping temperatures became too much to bear in the seas, had plenty of towels done across the floors in preparation for such times. A few drops of pee weren’t going to leave any permanent impression. Even so, this did nothing to help Grace’s desperation, as she began to sweat anxiously, filling drips of pee running down the back of her ankles and into her wet shoes. Increasingly in bladder agony, Grace’s resolve back to crack. 'Maybe I should just let go now and get it over with. I've already done it once' thought Grace. 'No! I know what's happening now and I can hold it for twenty minutes. I am not going to wet myself twice in one day!'. Unfortunately, Grace was far from certain that the decision was hers to make. She remembered Melanie telling her about how she and Thomas had experimented with diuretics after their elevator romp and Grace remembered hearing that a second accident always followed the first; when diuretic-induced, much sooner than it had taken the first time. 'It completely regresses your bladder muscles' she remembered Melanie explaining. The first wave knocks them down from adulthood back to childhood and by the time you need to go again, you basically have a toddler's control. Totally shatters your muscle strength... but not the muscles needed for the fun afterward!'. Grace moaned in frustration. She had barely held on that long the first time and already felt seriously desperate to piss, wriggling and squirming like crazy in the driver's seat. Before she could help it, a spurt of piss burst from her damp pussy, re-soaking her crotch, as she quickly shot one hand down between her legs to help her hold on. Even so, Grace felt like it was barely helping and the intense pressure in her bladder made her feel like she could leak again at any moment. 'Fucking fuck, fuck… fuck!! I can't fucking hold it anymore! Not when my bladder is compromised like this! I can't do it, I'm so desperate right now. I feel like I'm about to wet myself at any second. I can't do this any longer. I just can't, it's not my fault if I lose control again-' -Suddenly, Grace's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an ice cream truck with the past and she realized that she was less than a mile away from the beach. Screaming with delight, she turned towards it and began eagerly anticipating the moment when she could step out of her car and quickly make her way to the nearby toilets; located right next to the car park. Grace's desperation only seemed to worsen as she approached the car park but she was determined to make it. Despite still heavily fidgeting, Grace steeled her nerves and prepared for the short walk from the car park to the toilets; less than a minute long, with her determined not to wet herself this time. Unfortunately, this really wasn't Grace's day and in a run of bad luck that would make even the worst gamblers cry with laughter, Grace nearly screamed in sheer disbelief at the sign she saw on the bathroom doors nearby: 'OUT OF ORDER. PLEASE USE ALTERNATIVE FACILITIES'. The moment Grace's eyes saw the sign, the rest of her body knew that she wouldn't be able to hold on for the 5-minute walk to the other bathrooms, just around the corner of the beach. Grace's mind however went into denial and she stepped desperately out of her car, her knees bending and nearly giving way almost immediately from an intense pang of desperation, as Grace did the pee-pee dance in between her car and another. 'I can't hold it!' moaned Grace aloud, as a fresh spray of piss sprang from her bladder and ran down her leg; a small yellow stream running over her stained trainers. Realizing that she only had seconds left, Grace quickly stumbled behind her car; out of sight of anyone on the beach, before her whole body began to tremble with anticipation. Knowing that the battle was lost anyway, she took a deep breath and sighed, giving in to the inevitable as her bladder completely broke down and Grace Taylor began to completely and utterly wet herself for the second time that day. Despite having previously experienced it, Grace still found the sensation incredibly strange as warmth flooded around her crotch; her pussy drenched in piss in Mere moments, before the liquid ran up to her ass, re-soaking her dampened bum and flooding down her legs. Shaking with relief, Grace didn't know if it was just in her head but the feeling of her second accident overwhelming her exhausted muscles sent an immense wave of pleasure rocketing through her body, which no longer had to hold back the intense load inside her. Gripping her car boot for support, Grace let out a small moan as her whole body shuddered and she experienced an involuntary orgasm; her clit pulsating like a drum, her legs vibrating with relief, and her bladders painful aching finally gone. The piss flooding down her legs, the puddle she was standing in, and even the fact that she was a young woman behaving like a little girl who couldn't make it to the toilet was forgotten, as Grace relished the relief and the immense pleasure it was bringing her. She had sex before that wasn't as good as this and somewhere in her thoughts, she would remember thinking afterward that she was beginning to understand what Melanie and Thomas got out of this. While Grace was lost halfway between embarrassment and erotic pleasure, her body continued its accident, with dozens of hot yellow streams every second flooding down her legs and soaking her lycra wetsuit, though only a thin glistening layer of piss made it to the outer surface of her wetsuit. Her shoes once again filled with her piss, while her bum trembled violently inside its now soaked lycra containment. ‘Ohhhh fuuuuck’ she moaned, in a tone that could have been whispered into a lover’s ear in bed. Slowly, Grace’s accident began to subside and she felt the intense streams slow to a gentle trickle, a few drops, and then; nothing. Sighing with relief, Grace looked down at her feet and burst out laughing. Somehow, the puddle she was standing in was almost as big as the one she’d left at the petrol station. ‘How the hell is that possible?’ she thought. Regardless of how, Grace wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. The intense accident should have left her utterly humiliated and while embarrassed, she was more annoyed at herself for making such a silly mistake with the pills. The actual wetness she could handle, as to her immense relief, no one had seen her lose control. Even so, she knew she needed to be more careful in the future to avoid anything like this ever happening again. She didn’t want this to happen again… right? The truth was, Grace didn’t know how she felt about that either. Her whole body was still shaking from her orgasm and; as if on cue, her knees finally gave out, as she slid down her car and fell into her puddle, the pee soaking against the outer layers of her wetsuit. It felt sloshy, immature, and silly, yet also warm, relaxing, and almost… pleasurable. ‘If only Melanie could see me now!’ thought Grace. ‘She’d be ecstatic!’ Despite her conflicted feelings on the multiple accidents, neither was her primary concern now. It was mid-morning, the sun was as bright as any Cornwall day could hope to be and she could hear the sound of waves in the distance. Pulling herself up, she looked over her car bonnet and gave the biggest smile. The beach was practically deserted and the waves were rising high; over 10 ft., crashing down up past even the middle-half of the beach, soaking the sand in seawater. No matter what she liked or didn’t like sexually, Grace loved surfing. Next to that, everything else was forgotten. Quickly untying the robes that held her surfboard on the car roof, she grabbed the cherry red board and began sprinting with it across the sand; a few moments after kicking her pee-soaked trainers underneath her car. Her long brown hair flapped in the wind and she looked like a supermodel running down the beach, attracting the eyes of every person who had arrived. They were all so enraptured by her looks: Her gorgeous face, deep brown eyes, lycra-clad legs, her cute bum, not a single one noticed the droplets of pee shaking free from her, as she made her way towards the ocean. This was where she belonged. Where she would always belong. Laughing with ecstatic joy, she felt a huge wave douse her in seawater; piss replaced with salt covering her whole body in a cold chill, yet she continued running and threw herself into the waters. Carried forward on her surfboard with ease, she lay against it; paddling further out and then timed her ascent perfectly. She rose just before the wave and found herself standing in a living tunnel of water, thousands of gallons roaring above her, yet all she felt was pure exhilaration. She had been barrelled and was riding it perfectly, in tune with the turn of the wave as if it were a part of her own body. ‘WAHOO!’ she screamed, at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the water in a hundred directions; a beautiful distortion at the heart of chaos. The wave began to thunder down, yet Grace held her nerve and lowered her body, closing in on the narrowing exit from the wave. Always a second ahead of the water, she surfed down for a second, then spun up and over the wave, turning at a 360-degree spin in the air, before landing back on the water perfectly and riding the aftershock nearly all the way back to the beach, where a small group of people cheered her display: She was a true professional and they all knew it. Grace smiled, blowing kisses at everyone, before turning back before she lost momentum and heading for the next wave. It was good to be home.
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