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Found 4 results

  1. Does anyone know of any omorashi mods for fallout new Vegas? to be more specific, are there any mods that add clothes that have pee stains on them or, mods that involve diapers or anything like that?
  2. Ah Fallout, one of my favorite Action RPGs. While I've only played the main series, I gotta ask my fellow omo lovers, which lovely ladies or handsome men would you like to see desperate to pee or poop, or even having gone past the breaking point? For me, I could see Cass having an accident due to being passed out from drinking or drunkenly pissing and or crapping her pants while tipsy. Or maybe Boone doing so, not out of a sexual reason, but from what I know, some IRL snipers do that cause, well, their jobs tend to have them be more or less stationary for long hours at a time. How about you guys?
  3. Hello! So I freaking love the Fallout series. I’ve played every game, and beaten most of them several times. And though I love many characters, I don’t love any of them half as much as I love Curie. So naturally, I loved imagining her wetting/soiling herself for one reason or another. Minor Fallout 4 spoiler you need to know for this to make sense: Curie is a robot that you can “download” into a synthetic human body. At the start, she has no clue how to operate her new body, which opens up quite a few opportunities for omo. This story takes place just after she switches bodies. Also, Sole Survivor’s name is Jane. But anyway, time for the story. Fair warning: messing and fear wetting. -------------------------------------------------------------------- “Zis just feels so… strange,” Curie intoned in her exotic French accent. She was thoroughly inspecting her new arms. Jane chuckled a bit as she watched Curie repeatedly clench and unclench her fist. “You get used to it,” Jane said, as comfortingly as she could. “But you have had your whole life to get used to it, what if I never get used to it?” she said, worried. Jane hadn’t recalled her ever sounding so worried when she was still a robot. Now though, she occupied the body of a somewhat tall woman, with very short black hair and fair skin. She wore a pink and white checkered shirt, and simple blue jeans. “I’m confident in you, Curie,” Jane said. Curie blushed. Jane wore her Vault 111 jumpsuit, augmented with leather armor on her arms, legs, and chest. A powerful rifle was holstered on her back. She was caucasian with very pale skin, and silvery-blonde hair that curled and twisted all over the place, down to her shoulders. “Well, uh, thank you, I -oh!” Curie suddenly gasped, and put her hands over her crotch. “What is it?” Jane asked, though she could guess. “I forgot how to hold it for a moment, and I believe I urinated a little,” she said, without a hint of shame. She lifted her hands from her blue jeans, “how bad is it?”. Curie was still adjusting to her new body, so events like this were to be expected. Jane looked, and could see a wet patch roughly two inches in diameter occupying the space between Curie’s legs, “Not too bad,”. “I recall that you were always embarrassed when you had an accident. Should I feel embarrassed?” Curie asked, with legitimate curiosity. “Well, yes,” Jane replied, blushing slightly. “Well zen, may I please change?” Curie asked, though Jane suspected it was only because she thought she had to. “Soon enough,” Jane brought up her Pip-Boy, and loaded the map. They were still in the dead center of the ruins of Boston. Not an ideal place to be. It was a long walk to the Taffington Boathouse, which Jane and the Minutemen had turned into a relatively nice safehouse, but they’d be safest there. The important part was getting out of Boston ASAP. She relayed all this to Curie. -------------------------------------------------------------------- About half an hour passed, and they were nearly out of Boston. Curie was getting the hang of her body, her periodic stumbles and trips becoming rarer and rarer. Jane was on edge, though. Curie was unarmed and unarmored, for one because Jane had none to spare at the moment, and also because she wasn’t sure she trusted Curie to handle a firearm right now. Along with finer control of her legs, Curie had managed to keep control over her bladder. “Madam?” Curie asked innocently. “Yeah?” “I believe I require ze restroom,” Jane looked at Curie as she said this, and Curie’s face was clearly puzzled and confused, uncertain of what to do in this situation. Both of her hands rested over her crotch, not quite holding, but not just there for show. “Umm, can it wait? We really shouldn’t stop here for something like that; it’s too dangerous,” “For a little while, I think,” Curie looked down, pondering something, “I could just go now. In my clothes,”. “What? Why?” Jane asked, her confusion spelled out across her face. “If we cannot stop here, then I would prefer to not be in a state of discomfort for so long. Though it is very unsanitary, I could clean up when we get-” “No no, it’s… it’s fine. Just hold on. We’ll find somewhere. Don’t wet your pants,” “It is more than just ‘wet’, Madam,” Super. “Well, don’t do that, either, Curie,” “I will hold on,” The two continued walking. They passed by a number of ruined storefronts, most of the buildings too damaged to enter. Jane was a fairly talented sniper, and was very skilled at avoiding enemies. Using her techniques, she’d managed to guide them around most of the major threats without ever being in danger. Seems someone, somewhere lacked those skills, as multiple bursts of gunfire suddenly erupted from somewhere a few blocks away. Jane turned quickly towards the sound, before realizing it wasn’t aimed at them. Curie jumped and gasped at the sudden shock. “Oh my… Is that what it feels like to be frightened?” Curie’s face was a mask of total anxiety and unease. “Yup,” “I do not like zis feeling” she said, shaking her head. “No one does. Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Jane reached over and put a steadying hand on Curie’s slightly-shivering shoulder. “Thank you, Madam, I- Oh no!” She said, looking down. Jane followed her gaze to see that the wet spot on Curie’s pants had expanded considerably. An apple-sized patch now rested on her crotch, just barely reaching down her thighs, as well. She must have lost some control when the gunfire went off, but not realized till just now. “I do not like zis feeling, either,” Curie said, clearly looking to Jane for some sort of guidance. Guidance Jane had no idea how to give. Sure, people peeing their pants wasn’t infrequent in the Commonwealth; and Jane, herself, was no stranger to it. But she was somewhat new to consoling someone else over it. In the earlier days, just after she emerged from the Vault, Jane could hardly keep her pants dry and unsoiled. Every day she thought she’d seen the most horrifying thing the Commonwealth had to offer, out pops something scarier. She tried to remember how she felt when she’d ruined her trousers, maybe that would help her think of something to say. “Don’t worry about it, Curie,” She opened her mouth to speak more, but before she could, another woman’s voice interrupted. “Hey!!” Came a desperate and aggressive voice. Curie and Jane both turned around as quick as possible. A dark-skinned woman with ratty hair and wild eyes was holding a pistol at the pair. She was wearing a basic white T-shirt with blue-jean overalls. “Gimme all your caps! Now!!” Her voice shook a little. Jane sized her up quickly as Curie took cover behind her. The woman was clearly desperate and not good at this sort of thing. The hands holding up her gun trembled, and Jane could see the thug’s legs shake ever so slightly. Jane looked over the mugger’s pistol, and… yup. Jane took a couple steps forward, “You’re kidding, right?”. The mugger quickly adjusted her gun in an “I’ll do it” sort of way. “B-back up!” she stammered. Jane continued walking forward until the gun’s barrel was touching her belly, “You won’t shoot me,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Y-yes I will!” “Not with the safety on, you won’t,” Jane said, smirking. The mugger attempted to pull the trigger, but only heard an empty click. Jane quickly pushed the pistol to point at the ground as she drew her own revolver, and levelled it at the mugger’s head. Tears formed in her eyes, and she began making terrified whimpers. Jane looked down with some satisfaction as a dark patch developed between the mugger’s legs, which then spread down her overalls. The glistening wetness spread all over the front of the woman’s pants, creating a heart-shaped dark patch on the fronts of her thighs. Thick columns of wetness completed their journey down her legs, and deposited in a massive puddle at the woman’s feet. As her bladder failed, her other end took the opportunity to void. A wet crackling sound occupied the sudden emergence of a horrible smell in the air as the woman totally loaded her overalls. “Leave. Now. Do not look back,” Jane commanded. The mugger only nodded as quickly as she could before turning to sprint away. As she turned, Jane could plainly see the mess in the woman’s pants. The bulge was nearly twice the size of a baseball, and her pants were stained slightly brown at the bottom of the rather large bulge. Curie walked up to Jane, “I suppose it really isn’t uncommon for human’s to lose control of such functions,”. “With the right motivation, you can make anyone have to change their pants,” Jane said. “I will keep zis in mind,” Curie said, enthusiastically. That couldn’t be good. -------------------------------------------------------------------- The two had finally escaped the perilous clutches of the Boston ruins. The sun was still high in the sky, meaning they should definitely be able to make it to Taffington before nightfall. They were walking over an old stone bridge that was littered with discarded vehicles. Curie’s kind-of holding herself had evolved into full on grabbing-and-holding-to-keep-from-totally-pissing-in-her-pants. “M-madam?” Curie said, slightly bent over. “You need the restroom?” “I… yes. Badly,” She winced a little, “I am not familiar enough with zis body to know if I can hold it any longer,”. “We’re not too far from Taffington, are you sure you can’t hold it?” Jane asked. “I… I-” Curie scrunched her face, and Jane looked down to see the wet patch grow significantly. Two large streaks began their descent down her thighs, but didn’t go too far. The wet spot nearly doubled in size, but it seemed Curie was back in control. “I do not believe I can last much longer...”. Jane sighed deeply, “Okay, okay. It’s ‘safe’ here, so go ahead and go behind that car. I’ll keep watch.”. She drew her rifle, and turned her back to give Curie some privacy. Curie stumbled forward, leaking a little more pee into her pants with each step, before reaching her destination. She moved to unbutton her pants, and finally succeeded. As she dropped her jeans, exposing her wet, white panties, the familiar sound of a bullet crashing against metal caused Jane to suddenly push Curie to the ground. Curie landed on her butt, with her back leaning against the car she’d been using for cover. Her pants were still down around her ankles, but she had not been able to pull her (slightly yellowed) panties down at all. Jane emerged from their shared cover, and looked through her rifle’s scope. She spotted the Gunners advancing towards them, each laying down suppressive fire until they could close the gap. Jane fired one shot, but missed. As the Gunners returned fire, she ducked as a cacophony of small, metallic clangs consumed their hearing. Jane glanced at Curie to check on her, and… yup. Curie was sitting in a gradually expanding puddle as she peed hard into her panties. The yellow stain covered her crotch and the entire backside of her formerly white underwear. Between the clanging of bullets, Jane was sure she heard a faint hissing noise. A particularly ambitious bullet penetrated through their cover, and came dangerously close to hitting Curie. She yelped in alarm, and brought her knees to her chest, as she retreated into the fetal position. A low pbltpbltpblt sounded from Curie’s rear, and was followed by a loud, wet, crackling, squishing noise as the seat of her panties expanded forcefully. The messy bulge grew and grew, immediately dwarfing the size of the mugger’s load, earlier. The slightly-yellow-but-mostly-white fabric of the panties turned completely brown as she produced a veritable avalanche in her underpants. Poor thing, Jane thought, I’m gonna make them pay for scaring Curie like this. With inspiration drawn from seeing her friend in such distress, Jane stood once more, and shouldered her rifle. Her crosshair lingered over one of the Gunner’s faces. She pulled the trigger, and suddenly there was no face left to linger on. She panned over to the next, and gave him the same procedure. She turned to the final gunner, a woman. The legs of her military fatigues had spreading, wet streaks flowing down them as she saw her companions fall. She turned to run, dropping her gun. She vanished behind some trees before Jane was able to take her down. Jane put a hund on Curie’s shuddering shoulder, “Curie. Curie!” she said, shaking her. Curie slowly looked up, realizing it was over. Jane knelt down next to her, keeping one hand on her friend’s shoulder for comfort, “It’s okay, Curie. You’re fine, you’re safe. Let’s get you home,”. As Jane offered her hand to help Curie up, Curie looked down, and noticed the rather dismal state of her underwear, “Oh… I no longer require the restroom, Madam,” she said, forlornly. She accepted Jane’s hand and stood, “Should I try and clean my underwear first?” she asked, feeling the front and back of her panties. “No. Gunners like to travel in large groups, and one of them lived. We need to leave, now. Just… just pull your pants up over the accident, it’s fine,”. Curie complied, and pulled up her pants, wincing as the somewhat tight pants squished her mess up against her. At least the relatively small wet spots on her jeans hid the true extent of her accident. The same could not be said of the rather conspicuous bulge, which was plainly visible in the seat of her pants. Curie was still a little shaky, but she and Jane fled quickly from the area. -------------------------------------------------------------------- At long last, they were closing in on Taffington Boathouse. It was maybe another forty-five minutes, maybe an hour away. Jane looked back, and noticed Curie seemed miserable. Not that she could blame her. It very much reminded her of her first outing into the Wasteland- lots of terror, peeing, pooping, and crying. “You okay?” She asked, though the answer was evident in Curie’s sickened stare. “I… I do not dislike my new body...” “But...” Jane interjected. “I do dislike some of the emotions that come with it. How do you deal with being so afraid?” “It comes with experience. You’ve seen me have accidents tons of times,” “But I never saw you curl into the fetal position,” Curie said, a hint of shame in her voice. “Look...” Jane began, trying to think of what to say, “A lot of our emotions are terrible. Fear, anxiety, shame… but it’s worth having those if it means that we can still feel the good ones, right?” she said, throwing her arm over Curie’s shoulder. That was honestly the best she could come up with. Curie looked over to her and smiled, “Yes… I suppose it is,”. She sadly patted the bulge that presided over her butt, “I think I am beginning to feel embarassed and shameful over zis. Was your first time so bad?” she asked, curiously. Jane sighed, but decided it may bring her friend some comfort. She began the tale. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Jane had just emerged from Vault 111. She found her old robot, Codsworth, who advised her to venture into Concord and seek help from the people there. As she stood on the outskirts of the town, the sounds of a full-on firefight were evident. Jane was tempted to run as fast as she could from the ruined little town, but she knew it may be her only chance to find someone who could help her find her missing son. She swallowed, and steeled herself, and pressed further into the town. As she walked, the firefight worsened, and she could hear people screaming. During the battle, something exploded. It was loud, and it shook the earth. Jane could only whimper and shiver. Then she noticed a warmth travelling down her right thigh. She’d been so nervous that she had peed quite a bit. A circular stain rested on her crotch, and a little had gone down her left thigh, but a long, thick streak traced all the way down to her right knee. Despite wanting to completely wet herself and begin throwing up out of fear, she pressed on. She encountered a number of raiders attacking a lone Minuteman defender, and decided to help the Minuteman. As she fought, with every bullet that landed near her, with every time a raider noticed her, she leaked a little more. By the time she’d actually fought her way inside the museum the Minutemen were holed up in, the front, back, and inside of her pants were thoroughly soaked. The Minutemen didn’t seem to judge her too harshly for it, thankfully. Their plan was to use an old suit of power armor in the building to finish off the raiders. Easy. As she got in and began to tear through the opposition with a minigun she tore off of a downed helicopter, she heard a strange roar from below the ground. Midway through the intense battle, part of the street exploded open as a massive, reptilian monster known as a deathclaw had decided to go hunting. It turned the remaining raiders into soggy ribbons, then darted towards Jane. It picked her up, and began banging its enormous claws against her armor, trying to get at the squishy human inside. Jane screamed the entire time. She recalled reading once that T-51b armor, and later models, came equipped with facilities to handle waste. She could vouch that earlier models, like her T-45d armor, did not. As the deathclaw attempted to pry her armor open, she abandoned any thoughts of maintaining bowel control, and forcefully soiled herself. Eventually, she wriggled out of its grasp and retrieved her minigun, then blew the beast away. When she returned to the Minutemen, she was grateful that her armor hid the fact that she’d had another accident. By the time she’d returned home, and could take the armor off, her mess had been smeared all across her backside and thighs, browning her jumpsuit’s leggings. -------------------------------------------------------------------- “So… even though you were so afraid that you had an accident even before the fighting started, how did you stay brave enough to keep going?” Curie asked, fascinated. “I… I had to. For my son. That’s why I’m so ‘brave’ around you, Curie. I want to keep you safe, and I won’t do that by being afraid of everything,”. Curie blushed and smiled. “Do you think I didn’t want to piss myself when they started shooting? Hell, I think I actually did leak a little...” Jane said, slightly embarassed. “I don’t believe you,” Curie said. “Seriously. I have to go, too, you know. Almost lost it during that fight,” “I think I’d feel better if you’d have had an accident, too,” Curie mused. Jane sighed, again. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this, but considering everything, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make all the way to Taffington, either. She gave a quiet “Hmmph,” and began pushing. Curie looked at her curiously, then her eyes fell to Jane’s legs. “M-madam!” she exclaimed. Jane felt warmth totally envelope her crotch. It spread quickly as she peed full-force into her clothing. She exhaled as she felt warm rivers flow down both of her legs. The wetness curled around her legs, just barely spreading across the bottom of her butt. The hot liquid flowed messily out of the cuffs of her pants, splattering noisily on the ground. Her visible relief faded as the next phase of this little operation began. She grunted softly, and felt her butt cheeks part. A firm log made its way into her jumpsuit’s seat. It tented out significantly, before finally folding in and smooshing up between her pink panties and butt cheeks. She exhaled again, and tugged at jumpsuit a bit, feeling the mess settling in the back of her pants. Her wet legs were cooling in the breeze. Curie’s face was full of satisfaction. “Thank you, Madam,” she said, gratefully. “Don’t… don’t mention it,” Jane said, and she meant tit. “It looks like you were right,” Curie began. “About what?” “With the right motivation, you can make anyone have to change their pants,” Curie said, quoting Jane. So this is what she meant. It was going to be fun explaining this to the crew at Taffington...
  4. Author's Note: It's been quite a while since I've written anything, so I'm really not sure if this will be any good, but here's some omo of Cait from Fallout 4. I have an idea for Curie as well, so watch out for that here. Cait sat in a dilapidated chair at a table tucked into a corner of the Combat Zone, nursing a drink and getting prepared for her next fight. Her corset and red hair making it painfully obvious to any newcomers that she wasn't one of the raiders, but she wasn't the boss either. She and Tommy had managed to keep their heads above the water for three years, him providing the business sense and commentary, and her fighting anyone stupid enough to try to take her on. Looking around at the abysmal state of the place, she couldn't help but curse the raiders for taking over, nearly running the place into the ground. If they weren't such huge fans of the combat, they surely would have, but as it stood, Tommy had convinced them to become the new clientele with strict rules and harsh punishments for breaking them. Knowing her next fight was coming up – against some no name raider who she'd never fought before – Cait finished her drink, rose from her chair, and headed to her room. She felt a pressure in her bladder, one she was all too familiar with. Drinking to escape the past inevitably lead to more problems, one of the least of which was having to piss frequently. She planned to go to her room, relieve herself, shoot up some of her stash of psycho, and clear her head before the fight. As she walked, however, Tommy intercepted her. The ghoul was an old friend, if you could call the man who owned your contract and signed your checks a friend. Nonetheless, they had known each other for years, and had a sort of mutual respect, and his mottled face was familiar enough that she didn't feel disgust at the sight of him. “Cait, glad I caught you.” He said, rasping in the way only a ghoul can. “I needed to have a word with you before this fight.” “Look, Tommy, I'm kinda on my way to somethin'. Can't it wait until after the fight?” She asked, the drink and her accent playing havoc with the words. Tommy opened the door to his office, and ushered her in, and she knew she wasn't getting away that easy. Once the door had shut behind them, he answered. “I'm afraid it can't, Little Bird. I know you always claim it's not my place, that I'm a damn fool who doesn't know fighting, but damn it. I can tell you're getting sloppy. I can see the effect the drugs and the drink are having on you, and I need you to straighten up.” He said, his emotion bleeding through despite his best efforts to sound businesslike. “I just don't think our...clients will keep paying for sloppy fights.” “Ha! Sloppy? You're an idiot, you know that, Tommy? I'm the best fighter 'round here, and they all know it out there. They've all taken their shots, and they all missed, and know they just get to watch. Why don't'cha mind your own business?” She said, quickly growing furious for being dragged into a rehash of the same old argument, especially when all she wanted was to piss before she had to fight. Hell, having to piss would make me a hell of a lot more sloppy than the damn psycho. She thought, wondering why Tommy felt the need to bring this up every other week. It was the same discussion every time. Him claiming the drugs were making her sloppy, her saying he was an idiot, then she walks away and nothing changes. She just wished he had put it off another day or so, for a time when she wasn't quite so desperate for relief. “We both see it, Little Bird. I've looked after you for a while now, and I don't want to see my prize fighter go down to some two-bit punk she could have easily taken out if she weren't strung out, y'know?” He said, practically pleading with her. “We also both know how this conversation ends, Tommy. I'm goin' to my room, I've got a fight to get ready for, in case you forgot.” Cait said, heading for the door as Tommy threw his hands up in defeat. By now, he knew that his little talks were a wasted effort, but couldn't bring himself to just give up. By the time Cait reached her room, she realized she had to make a choice. She could feel withdrawal from the psycho setting in, but also had to piss so badly she could hardly stand still, the pressure in her bladder shifting into a pain. After a brief consideration, she went to her stash, grabbed the psycho, and shot up. While she had to piss badly, the shaking and headaches from the lack of psycho would end up being much harder on her. The usual rush of adrenaline, leading to increased strength and aggression, that came with psycho was lost on her, her years of abuse making the drug have almost no effect on her, instead simply letting her feel normal. She heard Tommy beginning his announcements, and knew it was time for her to head back down. She definitely couldn't skip a fight right after one of his little talks, even Tommy had a limit to his patience, and it'd be much harder for Cait to get her hands on a steady supply of drinks and chems without the Combat Zone. She'd just have to skip all the showboating, put the new meat in his place, then take care of her rapidly filling bladder. ~X~ Cait stood in the bright lights of the cage, the prime attraction of the Combat Zone which drew in raiders from all over the Commonwealth. Tommy was rambling his introductions as always, but Cait had tuned him out completely, all of her attention on fighting her body's desperate cries for relief. She managed to lean against the wall of the cage, and cross her legs casually, bringing relief without being obvious. There was a part of Cait that was actually somewhat worried. She hadn't expected her need to piss to get quite this bad, it was certainly worse than she could ever remember. Would she be able to fight at all in this condition? If she could, would she be able to hold on long enough? As she wondered, she looked over the raider she was to fight. He was big, sure, but that meant he'd be slow. If it had been any of the regulars, she knew she could take them. But he was new. New could mean all sorts of things. “And now,” Tommy rasped over the speakers “Let's get down to fighting!” Cait snapped to focus, as the raider charged toward her. Shit. She thought, as she managed to just barely sidestep the charge, hitting him in the back as she did. Shoulda paid more attention. This bastard's faster than I thought. As she changed her stance, preparing for another charge, she saw the raider had changed his style as well. Rather than going for another charge, he began circling the cage, forcing her to mirror his movements lest he gain the upper hand. As they circled, each combatant looked for an opening. Before too long, Cait's body gave the raider his opening. While she had managed to keep herself under control so far, the pain suddenly became unbearable, causing her to double over in pain. She gasped, as a spurt of piss shot out of her before she could stop it. “Shit.” Cait hissed through clenched teeth, fighting to stop her bladder from emptying. Her opponent could see quite clearly what was happening, the light dark patch on her crotch, and her desperately trying to regain control. He took his chance, delivering a sudden punch to her abdomen. Cait staggered back, the force of the blow nearly knocking her down. While she managed to stay on her feet, the blow was too much for her bladder. “Fuck, no, no...” She said, pressing her hands desperately between her legs as she tried to stop herself, but it was in vain. Her hot piss rushed out of her, rushing down her legs, soaking her pants, and splashing on the floor of the cage. Cait sighed with relief, though it seemed as though it would never stop. Her opponent watching her with a smug expression, Tommy and the audience looking on in a mixture of confusion and disgust. But once the rush of piss stopped, and the feeling of stunned relief and pain faded, Cait felt only rage. She roared as she charged the raider, who was off guard, overly confident she couldn't recover that quickly from wetting herself. The look of shock on his face as she smashed her fist into it was almost worth the pain and embarrassment, and the satisfying crunch as he crumpled to the floor was even better. As he attempted to recover, she kicked him in the head, knocking him out cold. “And what are you bastards gawkin' at?” She shouted at Tommy, the other fighters, and her raider audience. “You never seen someone piss themselves before?” Cait walked out of the cage and back to her room, hoping she could pretend this never happened.
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