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Author's note: Greetings, amateur author here. I have always wanted a yuri omutsu story mixed with Lit-RPG elements, and so I decided to write this when I didn't find any. Please enjoy~ ∠(ᐛ」∠)＿ Synopsis Elizabeth Rochefield, a heiress destined to one day inherit her father’s international commercial group, was an otherwise normal girl. Being an introvert with above average intelligence, she would spend most of her free time indoors. Her hobbies ranged from reading novels and playing video games, to enjoying her diaper fetish... Her life was busy with all her needs and wants met, yet she still craved something more. Regardless of how seemingly perfect her life was she wished for nothing more than to be a dashing heroine, one akin to her favourite novels. A wish that she would one day regret making. It was on that day, while Elizabeth flew on her private jet that something terrible happened, something that would change her life forever. Drawn by a strange electrical sensation Elizabeth looked out the window. Soon the bright overcast skies were torn asunder, as the ominous and ear shattering sound of glass cracking filled the air. A massive crack in the very fabric of space opened up in the skies above. Ashen clouds began to pour out of the crack contaminating the once calm skies, as lightning tore through the air. For the young heiress this visage only lasted a second in her eyes, as she suddenly found herself transported into what was a divine domain that existed in a separate dimension from her own. Elizabeth found herself and several other newcomers brought to this strange place. There were also others who had been in there for a longer time. Now forcibly recruited by an emotionless being that ruled over this domain, known only as The System. It referred to the lot of them as Users, and bestowed them with a strange power reminiscent of that of RPG characters, complete with status screens. The System tasked the Users to venture to dangerous fantastical worlds in order to harvest karma. In exchange for their efforts they were granted abilities and items far beyond their understanding. Left with little choice she began her journey. Over the course of what felt like a lifetime Elizabeth had successfully traversed six worlds, each filled with harsh experiences, and bountiful rewards. This would all come crashing down upon her one day, as the domain was suddenly attacked by an unknown entity. The System rallied the Users under it to fight back, but in the end regardless of how much power and experience they had gained on their quest they were all miserably defeated. In the murky darkness after the battle ended Elizabeth found herself still alive, her soul somehow intact. Desperate and now lacking a body she was offered an opportunity by The System. To once again harvest karma from myriad worlds, in order to enable The System to restore itself. In exchange for this The System guaranteed the restoration of her body and the continued gain of abilities as it grew stronger. Left with no other choice but a literal deal from the devil, she begrudgingly accepted. Chapter 1 - The Black Plague Rays of orange light interweaved between clouds in the sky as the morning sun peeked over the horizon. Various trees with yellowing leaves decorated the land of Japan, their leaves blown away with the late autumn wind. Birds chirped, while a sparse amount of people walked or sat on benches. Inside a middling apartment, Elizabeth was laid there on a bed, eyes closed. Then, her eyes fluttered open. She lifted her upper body and sat on the bed while brushing a stray blonde hair to the back of her ear. “Looks like System covered their part of the deal…” Elizabeth muttered. A bit weary, she opened her status menu by thinking about it. ‘Curses! System, I understand why my physical stats decreased since my body was reconstructed, but why did my magic stats and abilities degrade, while some abilities were removed entirely?’ ‘What?! Ah, I guess it isn’t weird for me to have soul injury from that scale of war. System, is there any memory loss involved?’ ‘Thank goodness, but it sounds like I have to train my skills back up again, and purchase new ones.’ Although she always had a hint of suspicion towards The System in her heart, she wasn’t powerful enough to investigate it right now. At least some abilities and all of her innate abilities still remained. Finishing her thought, she opened the Main Quest. ‘It seems like I am currently in the world of “The Black Plague”, the anime about parasitic zombies that I watched back on Earth, and also at System Domain for information gathering purposes.’ Curious about what identity she was given for her quest, she checked the identity screen related to this world. Her identity was just an ordinary foreigner orphan who recently lost her parents, which was the usual identity given to users by System. She is currently an eighteen years old third-grade high school student who is close to graduation. The identity screen also included an explanation as to why System specified the 1st Main Quest to be done in the afternoon. It was simply because she called in sick. With how The System usually did things, it must be to let the users get their bearings in the new world. As for the failure’s punishment, it was actually a warning, since moving away from the protagonist is much more dangerous. This was because they usually have the world itself protecting them, otherwise known as their plot armour. In addition, karma is harvested near the protagonist most of the time, but sometimes other characters too when they have a plot related to the world’s fate. She then proceeded to check her pocket-dimension inventory. ‘As expected, I lost all my items, alas. Looks like I have to obtain equipment and supplies for when the zombie apocalypse happens.‘ Thankfully, it seemed like the upgrades she purchased for it still existed. It can currently hold any non-living objects with a capacity of 10 cubic metres, and items can be taken in and out instantly. But the main feature was the time stop function it has, which was especially important for magical materials that degrade in potency over time. Elizabeth only got it near the end of her sixth world after saving up and getting the permission to purchase it from a troublesome quest. ‘System, how did the inventory upgrades stay despite my soul injury and losing all its content?’ ‘I see… well, I shouldn’t see the glass as half empty, let’s just be grateful for this fortune.’ Turning her body to the bedside, she felt the cold ceramic floor and noticed a pair of white bunny sandals nearby. Slotting her feet into the sandals, she stood up and walked into the front of a mirror above a sink. Her thin white nightie fluttered with her movement. She checked her body condition with the mirror, and noticed how her eyes looked different. Instead of her previous uniform green eyes, her eyes were now the colour of silver mixed with emerald. Their green hue at the top gradually changes to silver as it goes down. When she looked at them sideways and back from different angles, they also shimmered in different ways. She wondered if it had anything to do with her untimely death and revival. She then checked her front and back for any injury, her pale skin alongside her long blonde hair seemed to be fine and the same as before. Her body balance so far indicated that her height is the same as before, which is quite short at around 150 cm or 4’11. She proceeded to change her white nightie into a short one-piece white dress, white satin gloves, and white panties. She put her entire wardrobe’s contents into her inventory, then she took a short rest to let her mana recharge. A user’s pocket-dimension inventory consumes mana to use and maintain, and is facilitated by System. She wouldn’t have needed to rest if her 「Willpower」, the stat that corresponds to mana capacity and mental defense, was at the quality of a Sovereign Rank user she previously had. Next, she took the mattress and the blanket, in addition to her sunscreen lotion, smartphone, wallet, backpack, and school supplies. She then moved to the kitchen, where she managed to get a chef knife, dining utensils, and three packets of instant ramen. Her inventory does not abide like the usual storage in reality, it doesn’t matter what shape they are. As long as there’s space left, it will fit no matter what. She found out that the bowls actually had less volume than the ramen’s package, so she decided to test out her cooking skills. She found this out by putting them in her inventory. The addition of the water’s volume is not a problem since it would also hydrate her. She cooked them with no additional flair since there's no other ingredient to use. Smelling the tantalising instant ramen, her stomach rumbled, so she decided to eat one of them. Finished with pilfering her own apartment clean, she noticed that it was late morning already. Wearing white silk thigh-highs, pink-accented white sneakers, and sunscreen, she walked outside. She visited several markets, and borrowed various supplies by utilising her inventory, utterly remorseless. She made sure not to take too many from the same store, but from multiple ones, to make it harder to notice. She avoided detection from people and surveillance cameras alike by using blind spots and acting natural. Nobody would’ve suspected a cute girl like her to be shoplifting so shamelessly after all. It went smoothly all thanks to her previous experience,「Basic Stealth」, and 16「Dexterity」. Having a stat at 16 means it was 1.6 times that of the average human. She shopped as she liked while taking some rest in-between to recover her mana. Besides supplies, she also took several machetes, black elbow pads, knee pads, and welding masks paired with fitting motorcycle helmets for herself and this world’s protagonist party. In the middle of her shopping spree, she was surprised to find an antique shop which has an actual sharp stainless-steel bastard sword. After that unexpected find, she went to pickpocket guns from the police, by innocently walking past five police officers and putting them in her inventory. As Japan has an incredibly low amount of gun-related deaths, they only carried an old New Nambu Model 60 and no extra ammo, which was a revolver with five .38 special rounds capacity that was distributed in the 1960’s. Then she went to check the nearby police station for kevlar, but it is too difficult to do it at day for her Basic Stealth compared to supermarkets, so she decided to wait until midnight later on to borrow a few toys to confiscate from their armoury. Even if there are still some night shift guards, it would be much easier to sneak in without throngs of people moving around. Not to mention, the current times of peace would lax their vigilance. After stocking her inventory full with useful items for the apocalypse, in a nearby supermarket, she can’t help but grab several packs of Yurihime (Lily Princess) pull-ups that have pink tabs and elegant pink lilies drawn on its pure white base, alongside changing supplies. This has been her stress relief as a System User. Other users turned to alcohol and drugs. Although they’re not as thick as she liked, she would use them in the meantime. While at it, she also went to order several packages of proper fetish diapers online to be delivered tomorrow. With the pull-up packages in her inventory, she walked to a nearby public restroom, her heart pumping a bit faster from giddiness. ‘Even after all this time, the anticipation of wearing one is still there...’ Elizabeth thought as she pulled down her panties inside a stall, and then she put it into her inventory. She applied a rash-prevention cream on her crotch. Then the cream was put back into her inventory. After that, a package of Yurihime pull-ups appeared on her hand, then with a rustle, she opened it and grabbed one. She put the package back into her inventory. Lifting her dainty foot, she put it into the pull-up one after another, then pulled it up tight. She faintly smiled at the familiar softness of her protection. She then kept her skirt lifted by pressing it with her chin, a hand pulled the pull-up’s front open, while another sprinkled talcum powder into her crotch. Smelling the fresh lavender smell, she blushed a bit. With a plap, she stopped pulling the front of her pull-up, covering her crotch with an illustration of pink lilies. Her sheer white one-piece’s skirt flutters as it goes down, shrouding the flower garden from prying eyes. Putting a hand on her crotch, she whimpered slightly at the pressure in her lower abdomen. She hadn’t “watered the flower” at her apartment, and it’s now the middle of the noon. With her shopping done for now, she walked to her apartment. It was late noon when she arrived at her apartment. As she unlocked her apartment door, she suddenly felt a stomach cramp, which caused her to slightly bend forward. Psshtt… trickle “Mnn…” The cramp caused her to spurt out a momentary jet of pee, before it petered out to some droplets and then stopped with effort. After a few agonising seconds, the pain was relieved. She pulled up her white dress’ short skirt and peeked at her pull-up. The pink lilies protecting her are still untainted, it’s as white and pink as usual. Pressing a hand on her pull-up, it crinkled faintly. She felt a faint dampness inside from the pressure before it went away, the pull-up’s gel absorbing them. That crisis averted, she pulled out her school uniform from her inventory and changed into them. It’s short sleeved with thigh-high skirt, leaving a gap of plump skin between it and her white tights, creating the infamous absolute territory. It also barely covers her pull-up with around half an inch to spare. After changing her clothes, she pulled out her school backpack and proceeded to wear it. Since Mizumi High School was nearby, she walked there. Mizumi High School is a prestigious all-girls school that has five floors and windows all over them. It has a tower in the middle that hangs a giant clock inscribed with roman numerals. There are trees, benches, and a fountain decorating the front yard. Following directional signs, she went to the principal’s office. In the middle of walking… Psssssss… She only noticed it after a while to stop it, her walk slowing down as she does, with a hand tightly pressed on her crotch. …ssht… pssht… Prfft… Alongside her accident, a faint wisp of wind also sneaked out. … trickle “Huff…” Done with her second unfortunate mishap, she continued to walk. The fresh pee dampened her pull-up again. At this point, if someone were to catch a glimpse under her short skirt, they would’ve seen the pull-up’s sacred pink lilies tainted with slight yellow. The thought excited her, making her heart beat faster. As she walked, her pull-up’s gel whisked away the liquid, this time taking a few seconds more than before. After arriving at her destination, she knocked on the door. “Please come in,” said someone inside. “Excuse me.” Elizabeth opened the door into an elegant office with a soft brown rug, a brown bookshelf, and a brown desk paired with a chair. Sitting on it was a middle-aged woman in a business dress, the ray of early afternoon sun streaming on her through a window behind. As Elizabeth moved into the office, an ethereal fragrance of lavender filled the room, dazing the woman as she saw her. Unknown to the woman, she was affected by this temptress’ innate ability of「Charm」. “Greetings, principal, good afternoon. I am Elizabeth Rochefield, a transfer student from Fujikawa High School. Here is the transfer paper,” Elizabeth said with a slight polite smile as she handed the transfer paper. With the greetings that sounded like bells and wind chimes coming from Elizabeth, the principal woke up from her daze as she subconsciously grabbed the paper. Elizabeth’s polite expression didn’t change, seemingly not noticing the principal’s reaction. After a few seconds, she looked at the transfer paper, then back at her. “Good afternoon, Erizabesu-chan. We received your request for a transfer a few days ago. After a discussion with the other staff, we decided to place you in class 3-A, as your grades were acceptable for the best class we have in third year. Let us go there and meet your homeroom teacher, Mizuhana-sensei.” The name caught Elizabeth’s attention. In the anime, Rae Mizuhana was a former spec-ops soldier skilled in guns, knives, and vehicles. She is also skilled in small unit tactics, letting her command the protagonist party decisively, while also teaching it to the protagonist. Then they walked to the classroom. The principal went inside first to greet the homeroom teacher. Outside the classroom, Elizabeth could see the teacher. She is what they call a yamato nadeshiko, meaning the ideal Japanese beauty. With black iris, long black hair, milky white skin, and a lean figure. Meanwhile, chatter filled the classroom as the principal arrived inside. “Why did the principal come to the class? Is there a problem?” a silver-haired girl asked. “I think it’s a new transfer student, I hope it’ll be a cute girl,” her twintailed friend replied. “Heh, so typical of you, to always have your head in the mud,” the silver-haired girl sneered. “W-what did you say?!” shouted the other girl in response, glaring. The classroom became quiet as their homeroom teacher entered with a petite girl. An inexplicable lavender smell suddenly wafted into the room in the girl’s wake. Looking at her blonde hair and pale skin, even though they are girls, they were dazed by this foreign beauty. As she walked in, Elizabeth noticed the albino girl with long silver-hair and the heterochromia girl with twintails. They were the protagonist and the romance interest of this world respectively, Himeko Reinford and Asami Hiyama. Moving to the front of the class, she turned to the touch-screen board. She wrote her name on the board in katakana “ロシュフィールド・エリザベス” while her classmates were still not fully there. Elizabeth then turned back to them, her glinting silver-emerald eyes mesmerising them. “Greetings, everyone, my name is Elizabeth Rochefield. I am pleased to be your acquaintance,” she said as she bowed slightly to them. Although her movement woke them up, the fairy-like voice entranced them. It took them a few seconds before they could react. “Pleased to be your acquaintance, Roshufuirudo-san!” everyone replied uniformly to her introduction, except for a certain silver-haired girl that actually said “Rochefield” in proper English. Elizabeth then straightened her back. Meanwhile, the inside of Elizabeth’s head was filled with nervousness. She was so stressed out from her previous death that she thoughtlessly and giddily went and enacted one of her favourite fetish fantasies. Although she’s nervously holding back the tide, it also felt nice. Feeling all those eyes staring at her as she tried to avoid ruining her pull-up is doing all kinds of things to her heart. “Erizabesu-chan, please take a seat in an empty chair,” the teacher implored. Elizabeth stayed still however, blushing red, quivering in place, and clenching her fists on her sides. She is barely keeping her waste in, afraid that it’s going to leak if she walks. The others silently started to wonder what the problem was. ‘Ngh, darn, this is so embarrassing. What in tarnation was I thinking? I wouldn’t want to leave such a horrendous first impression. I already went through six harsh worlds already, I shouldn’t be this impulsive. I should’ve thought of this more when I-’ Knees bend slightly, face blushing, eyes widened and dazed. Brrt… pfft… crackle …psh… psssssht… psssssssss… “Gkh…” With that crackle, an intruder pounded mercilessly onto the back of her pampers. This tragedy was accompanied with Elizabeth helplessly irrigating her flower garden, the pure white padding that was already stained a bit gets more discoloured. The sacred pink lilies turned yellowish, seemingly wilting. It turns darker in shade as her watering-can drizzled. … psssssssssh… “Haah… haah… mnngh-” The intruder from earlier wasn’t finished either, it kept pushing and pushing against her poor little pampers with muffled wet crinkles. It pushed until it couldn’t take it anymore, letting the enemy infiltrate further outward into the front and the back. The sheer brutality of its attack stained the previously pure white padding’s back light brown, spreading and turning darker in shade as the ruthless assault progressed. The frontline of its army invaded close to the trickling rain clouds, turning soft and muddy. …psssht… trickle As the tragic war concluded, her poor little pull-up was left worse for wear. The feeling of sopping wetness at the front and tremendous fullness at the back were overwhelming. Despite the pungent wind sneaking out of her at the start, it was quiet and was muffled by her pampers, so it was only heard by the teacher near her. “Erizabesu-chan, what’s the matter?” the teacher asked with concern as she moved close to her. The other students are confused, only some perceptive ones in the front noticed her weird state and quiet mewls, including a certain silver-haired girl and her friend. When the teacher got close to her, she caught a whiff of a faint pungent smell and put two and two together. “It seemed like Erizabesu-chan isn’t feeling well, so I will take her to the infirmary. Class will be in self-study session until the bell rings, see you tomorrow,” the former spec-ops commanded decisively. When she was about to pat Elizabeth on her shoulder, Elizabeth suddenly evaded her pat. A bit surprised, Mizuhana-sensei put down her hand and decided to just say a gentle “let’s go” as she led the poor girl to the infirmary. Her poor little pull-up squishing and sloshing as she walked, still trying its best to take in the earlier storm. Author's note: Thank you for reading this story. Since you bothered to read this far, why don't you leave an upvote and even comment below? Feedback would motivate me to write more, and I am feeling quite nervous about this first published story of mine~ ＿(ᐛ」∠)＿

👑 The Trinket By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Hunter Chapter One The Will Hunter sighed as his mother, who he was currently on the phone with, continued to drawl about the contractual obligations he now had to abide by. His great aunt, or now his late great aunt, had left him a few things in her will that came with a few specific rules. The fennec fox had barely known her, other than seeing her at a Christmas party and once during Thanksgiving when he was very young. She was not really even his aunt, being an in-law and a cheetah to boot. He had heard a few stories about her, some from his mother who had always spoken about her with a degree of awe mixed with disapproval. Whether or not she was even really his aunt in-law was in question sometimes, but her presence in the family was nevertheless appreciated, if not coveted. She had been an Egyptianologist, but not the kind that mostly stays on the campus of a university. Accused several times of being no better than a bounty hunter with a college degree, she would often beguile whoever cared to listen at the taverns and bars she was often found at about her great adventures in the middle east. There were usually many stories told and drinks bought during such evenings. Her alcoholism aside, she had apparently kept up her taste for adventuring into abandoned tombs and caves right up until the very end. They never recovered her, but enough time had passed where her body had been declared lost and her vast collection of artifacts reclaimed by the museums and universities. Judging from their hasty reclamation of such items, they had been waiting for exactly such an opportunity as her disappearance. They had claimed most of the artifacts, at least. “So like, dumb it down for me a bit, Mom?” Hunter asked, a slight note of exasperation coloring his tone of voice as one of his large ears flicked to the side in irritation. It was his mother’s turn to sigh, which was followed up by a response. “You just can’t sell any of the stuff. You’re supposed to keep it as if it were a family heirloom. There’s some evidence to support that this does belong to us give or take a hundred generations.” Hunter replied back. “Right, don’t sell. Just keep it. Anything else?” “Not until they go through the rest of her possessions and check her records. You might be getting some money too, but that’ll take a while.” Right… After the state takes its hefty cut… Hunter thought to himself, but he did his best to keep his sense of sarcasm out of the conversation. “Great, thanks Mom.” “Of course honey, was there anything else you wanted to know about Auntie Tare?” Hunter, knowing that this would probably prolong the conversation for another good hour, shook his head before realizing that his mother could not see his reaction. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hrm… No, no. I think I’m good for now, still… Processing and all that. I’ll talk to you later Mom.” “Okay sweetie, let me know what’s in the box. It looks mysterious!” “Yeah, I will. Love you Mom.” “Love you sweetie, bye bye now.” The line went silent, and Hunter put his phone down on the table with a sigh of relief. As silence enveloped the apartment, interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the fennec’s gaze drifted over to the box that sat in front of him on the dining room table. The word that could describe the wooden container could only be described as ornate. Carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs laced with what he suspected was gold lining on the borders of the miniature crate gave the appearance of a most valuable item being stored inside. The wood had been treated with oil, and with great care as well. Part of him wondered if the box might be empty, as the container itself looked relatively valuable. Whatever it was, he was not surprised that his aunt had mentioned that he was not allowed to sell it. I’d probably make a pretty penny off of it too… Hunter mused to himself, as he pushed his chair back and stood up, only to crouch in front of the box in order to more closely examine its decor. He was not literate in Egyptian hieroglyphs, nor was he particularly interested in learning more about them. History had always bored the little fox, and despite having a renowned, though estranged, Egyptologist in the family it never sparked the same fascination and excitement as it did in Aunt Tare. Well, might as well have a look then. Reaching forward, he undid the clasp on the front of the box and pushed the lid open. Its hinges worked silently, and Hunter immediately noted that the entire inside of the box was laced with a vibrant, purple velvet. Amidst the swathes of cloth, Hunter beheld a palm sized brooch made of a mixture of dulled copper and gold. Marveling at it, the fennec’s eyes widened as he scanned its surface. The fennec picked it up with a paw and noted its significant weight. Equipped with a pin which Hunter presumed was intended to keep a cloak around a traveler’s shoulders, Hunter turned the brooch over and let out a surprised breath. The ornament had been placed upside down in its container, and it was studded with several small jewels with one large piece in its center. Peering closely at them, it took Hunter a moment to realize that they were opals. In the center of the metal disk, the largest of the opals was oval in shape. It gleamed as if freshly polished when it caught the last of the afternoon sun streaming from Hunter’s half shuttered window. A small scratch in the center of the opal was the only blemish on the piece, revealing the rainbow colored insides of the gem that refracted in ever changing patterns of color as he turned it over. Strangely, despite the fact that it had been sitting in the box ever since it had been delivered to his doorstep inside of its own, discrete cardboard container, the brooch was warm to the touch. And it felt like it was getting warmer. “It’s… pretty…” Hunter said lamely, to no one in particular. His initial curiosity had been sated, and he was now coming to the conclusion that he really had no use for the gem-encrusted display piece other than to perhaps show it off for his friends. The more he thought about it, being the owner of such a valuable piece now might mean that he would have to take insurance out on it. Great… Another responsibility… The fennec thought grimly to himself. Hunter was about to set the artifact down, when the opal flashed catching his eyes. Blinking, he looked down at the gem and wondered if he had imagined the sudden luminescence that had come from the piece. Gingerly, he brought it back up to his eyes and peered closely at the scratch on the gem’s surface to see if he had missed some refractive angle inside of the opal’s crack. Seeing that there was nothing he could immediately detect, he placed the brooch back down in its comfortable bed, this time right side up with the opal facing the ceiling of his apartment. He thought about where he should put the box, glancing around his apartment and seeing now apparent free space where he might rest it. I’ll probably just chuck it into my closet or something… His stomach rumbled, reminding him that his mother’s phone call had caused him to miss lunch at a reasonable hour. Closing the box, he decided to put his inheritance out of his mind for the time being. Padding over to his closet, he picked out his jacket and fumbled the keys to his apartment out of the bowl they rested in. I’m kind of hankering for some chicken… He thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift away from the strange set of rocks that were now his, now and forever. He did, however, check twice that he had locked the door to his apartment before bounding down the staircase leading to the lobby of his apartment complex.

When it comes to me, I imagine like this. A beautiful teen girl drinks a lot of water when sunsets. She arrives home at night with a tired body. She takes a shower and forgets to pee because of her tiredness. She just goes to bed with amounts of pee in her bladder. Next morning, she wakes up with a very huge urge of pee that even hurts her belly. She tries to move her body to toilet, but she cannot. She notices that if she just take a step, then the pee will come out uncontrollably. Some golden liquids leaks out of her pussy. She can feel it, but she can't respond. She's just stuck to the bed with legs crossed and hands holding her crotch. Then she notices that she is home alone. It means no one can see her, so she can just let it go on the mattress. But she hesitates to do like that. But while she hesitates, the urge gets even stronger and now starts to hurt her stomach. Finally she decides to just pee on her bed. Since she's wearing only panties, she just pulls it aside. But pee doesn't come out, because she haven't peed not in the toilet through her entire 18 years life. The muscles are not relaxed and bladder bulges like she is pregnant. She just waits and tries to relax her body, imagining like she's in the toilet. Finally a little spurts out, and more, and more pee comes out of her pussy. She finally starts to pee on the bed. The stream of pee comes like a huge falls. She moans loudly and smiles without recognizing. It takes about 10 minutes to finish her epic relief. ================================ So this is my favorite Omo fantasy. What is your favorite situation? Let's share it.

Hello once again reader! This story is the result of an art trade between myself and @Tentacool, where he wished for an omo story set in a fantasy time zone. I'm not the most adapt at fantasy, but I gave it my best shot and I don't think it's half bad! I hope you enjoy it! And fear not, I will not forget about the backlog of my other stories as well! Your feedback and support is so very much appreciated! -Orion The Green Dam and the Water Golem Prologue Nestled in a valley was the Kingdom of Aragoza. A kingdom ruled by humans that was a melting pot of different races and beings. A prosperous, peaceful kingdom that is the product of centuries of brutal war and conflict. The valley before those times was one of an uneasy peace, segregated into their factions of their brethren. The human population in what is now the capital, Arasootas, was always a marginalized and struggling people in between the dwellings of the various races of Dwarves, Elves, and the Dragonborne. With little magical power or brute strength like many of the other races, humans had to tread lightly in their small numbers to avoid even a small conflict they were hopeless to win. However, a population boom and rapid innovation of the humans allowed them to thrive, and eventually establish a military presence. A tyrannical leader rose to power and popularity, and sought to take control of the valley for their own intentions, including annexation or removal of the other factions. The rapid growth and military expansion of the self-proclaimed Xander Dynasty (named after the mentioned dictator) resulted in a military force unlike the valley had ever seen, with advanced weaponry, armor, and tactics that stood up to the strength and magical power they had lacked. A quick dispatch of a small army of orcs by the military was a successful campaign; with the consequence of the complete annihilation of their race. The message was clear: Join us, or die. Seeing the atrocities before them, the other races grew worrisome and then angry, each declaring war on the Dynasty. Centuries of on-and-off conflict persisted between the humans and the civilizations of the other races. Despite the death of tyrant leaders and the eventually fall of the dynasty into a more democratic constitutional monarchy, the animosity of the factions was still palpable. War continued to rage on, atrocities committed on both sides, and as the men and resources depleted on both sides, the supernatural factions agreed on an alliance, and sent a final hail mary to end the war once and for all. It did, however, result in a resounding human victory. The newly founded Kingdom of Aragoza annexed the regions of the supernatural and continued to expand, growing its influence as it opened connections within its borders and integrated the races it ruled over. Despite the takeover, the new Kingdom displayed much more graciousness than its tyrannical past, still claiming ownership and power over the regions, but allowing them to live in freedom, and integrating into their new society. While their populations thinned and weakened, the races slowly recovered their numbers and way of life, but some argue still live under the yoke of the kingdom, hoping for true independence. But for now, peace is the order of the day, the kingdom is a place of equality, with neighborhoods and niches for everyone, sharing their cultures and language and embracing each other as if they are their own. None is a greater example of this explained in the capital, where everyone from the humans, dwarves, elves, dragonborne, and everything in between mingle and work together. However, farther along the valley exists a dense forest, difficult to navigate and serves as the only point along the valley that serves as access to the outside world by land. The kingdom had long wished to clear the forest to improve access to the outside world, however this forest and the caverns and cliffs around them were the territory belonging to goblins. The Goblin race remained in the shadows during the time of war, and remained within their territory, looting the occasional traveler or lost soldier. They had no desire to participate, and neither the humans nor the supernatural alliance wished to have them on their side, as they were considered a treacherous and slimy group. When the word to clear their forest trickled down from the Kingdom to the goblins, the Goblin Kingdom immediately grew defensive and thwarted advancements of Aragoza by attacking their surveyors. Thus began a cold war between the smaller Goblin Kingdom and the giant Aragoza Kingdom. Negotiations always went poorly with little progress being made for years between the two sides. While the Kingdom of Aragoza could snowplow the Goblins with their military, the Queen of Aragoza and the royal family wished to improve their aggressive reputation by suing for peace. For years, an unsettling anxiety throughout the Kingdoms rang as peace between them began to strain. Chapter 1 It was until one Summer’s morning, where our story begins. The goblin Queen Caelus, awoke as if it were any other morning. She yawned, her stout, shortstack frame stretching to greet the day. Her large pointed ears perked up, hearing the wisp of the wind gently sway the trees seen from the opening in her mountain castle. Her long, flowing purple-gray hair accentuating her nude body (goblins don’t wear clothing in their sleep), her soft and squishy body that had a noticeable bulge in her abdomen. Like any other morning, Queen Caelus always had an urge to relieve herself, just as anyone else would in the morning. The queen had a strong bladder, and loved to drink the various nectars and juices from the fruit of the forest, or even better, the alcohol looted from the occasional traveler. Being a goblin, her skin and body was stretchy for the sake of resilience, allowing, in combination with her large fluid consumption, to produce a hefty bulge in her abdomen nearly every day. Still, she felt quite an urge to pee from holding her contents all night, and made her way to her chamber’s washroom, her bladder, along with her thick thighs, curvaceous rump, and bountiful bosom, to jiggle and wobble as she strided. The washroom was nothing but a small room with two buckets, one for relieving in, and one filled with fresh spring water for which to bathe herself, fetched by her royal underlings. Like any other day, the queen squatted over her bucket and relaxed her tense pelvic muscles, ready for the small ocean of piss inside of her to go shooting out as the mass in her belly would slowly diminish. Only, neither of those things happened. Odd… The queen squatted harder, actively trying to push out her liquid burden. Nothing. She strained her face, and bit her lip, trying to expel her contents. Still nothing. Caelus was perplexed, and considerably worried. Was she sick? She forgoed the bucket and instead elected to squat further to pee onto the stone floor, now desperate to relieve herself. Despite all her strength, her urethra would not open despite all the force and liquid coming down to force it so. Panicking, she called out to her underlings, and urgently requested the appearance of the Kingdom’s goblin doctors, which by human standards, were not quite doctors at all, merely those experienced in the art of trial and error rather than medicine. The doctors sat down Caelus on her bed once again, and performed a matter of primitive procedures on the poor Queen, from trying to “push” the piss out by squeezing her bladder, to having her legs pulled back to her feet over her head, to attempting to stick small rods and pulling open her urethra as she pushed, all with no results, her desperate urethra even refusing to open at all, as if it were sealed tight. With nothing left to try, the doctors simply suggested that it will go away with time, which the Queen worryingly agreed, going on with her day with an uncomfortable but manageable load the entire time. The day passed, every few hours the queen attempted to relieve herself to no end product, and continually being told that the effect is temporary and just be patient. Nighttime rolled around, and she uncomfortably rolled into bed, tossing and turning with a throbbing, bloated bladder. The next morning and the day thereafter was much the same, and then the next day, then the day after that, and after that, until a whole week had passed until she simply could not take it anymore. Her belly looked pregnant, perhaps beyond that, as her skin stretched and swelled to contain such a large amount of boiling, sloshing pee. It had gotten to the point where her normal clothes had simply gotten too tight and small to fit her figure. She scolded the doctors and demanded a new solution as opposed to just simply waiting. However, her closest advisor and friend, Paiko, stepped forward. “Aragoza. They could help us.” The queen was detracted from her ranting to hear her out. “How would they help me? They are our enemies, why would they help us?” “Please, Caelus. It is worth a try. Or do you wish to continue this discomfort and hardship that faces you every day, and will only get worse?” Her advisor belittled, accentuating her point by sticking a finger into the stretchy bulge of piss. “Nnngh!” The queen recoiled. Seeing no other option, and utterly desperate for some form of relief, she conceded. “Fine. I don’t have much hope, but these numbskulls aren’t going to get me anywhere.” She shot a glare at the trio of doctors, avoiding her gaze by looking at the ground or whistling, gazing at the ceiling. And so later that day The queen and Paiko departed their beloved kingdom with a group of Goblins to carry her highness's royal carriage, which was more like a makeshift horse cart. Goblins, even goblin royalty, were not picky regarding aesthetics. The trip would take about two whole days, two days of torture to the queen as the beaten roads and paths bumped and rocked the poor cart and transitively her poor bladder. Each bump sloshed her tank’s content’s back and forth, putting pressure on every part of her poor body, with no way of relief. Even more tortuous was the bathroom breaks her escorts were taking, freely lifting their loincloths and peeing into the wind, sighing in relief as their queen looked beyond envious. Paiko took pity on her, trying to limit the restroom breaks herself in an attempt to be sympathetic, but she reached her limits very quickly, and sheepishly excused herself various times to what was some very well-needed pisses, herself moaning in pleasure after holding as much as she is able to share the queen’s misery. While the gesture was admirable, it did nothing to help her situation. Her stretchy composition luckily lent her well, but while she was not in any fear of physically or metaphorically exploding, her discomfort beyond comparison, as well as the bulge in her stomach as well. Perhaps a comparison could be made to a pregnant belly once more, but this was one that was nine months pregnant with triplets and quadruplets, if even that. And near the evening of the second day, the lights of Arasootas came into view over the edge of the hill, the brilliant, progressive, inclusive city shining like a beacon. A shiver went down the Queen’s spine, not just from the creeps and shivers her bladder was producing, but also in anticipation of the reaction of the people of the kingdom. The goblin kingdom was not very popular, to say the least. Would they even bother to help? Would they attack them on the spot and hold her hostage? The queen’s gut told her that this was a bad idea, going through the various probable scenarios as to what would happen upon approaching the city’s gates. But that feeling in her stomach was wildly superseded by the feeling in her bladder. Desperately looking for relief and help, she had to reach out to her kingdom’s rivals. She wearily looked at the massive city as her carriage approached the gates, her bladder churning its balloon of urine, her poor body nearing its incredible limit. To be continued.

Part 1 FOST Fost waddled across the marsh. It was a miserable day, clouds had blocked the warm sun, leaving a thick grey gloom beneath. The marsh itself didn’t help much to quell the air of dullness that hung here either. It was slimy, squishy underfoot, and stank. And that wasn’t the only thing that stank. Fost fiddled with the leak guard of his diaper, attempting to make it more comfortable around his leg. It didn't do much. The diaper was just getting too full to ignore, he’d have to find that village as quick as possible, lest a rash set in. What’s worse, is that he was beginning to feel a little full in the bladder, and he didn’t suspect the diaper could hold another heavy wetting. “Damn.” he said to himself, stepping onto a raised patch of ground that was elevated comfortably out of the mud. Mud. The evil stuff came right up his leg, threatening to cling to his onesie. Not that much further, he thought to himself, then I can have a warm bath and a change. To make the rest of the journey easier on himself, he reached for his pacifier. It was attached to his neck with some old twine. It was nice, calming, and placated him enough to continue, at least for now. Now that his mind was clearer, Fost thought back to that old woman, and the conversation they had had a few days prior. What was it she wanted again? Ah, yes, that book on Strange Dymatagy. Apparently it was a rare thing, that contained many more words than it did pictures. Fost scrunched his nose at the thought -- how strange. Books with many words were by no means rare, but they were usually owned by Mommies or Daddies, not another Little like himself. Though the woman was ancient, she was definitely a Little. It could only be a thick diaper between her legs that gave her that waddle, and besides, everyone knew that Littles were the only ones who could do proper Dymatagy. What a strange woman she had been. Living alone in the middle of nowhere, reading books not meant for her eyes. Oh well, thought Fost somewhat bitterly, a job’s a job. He was beginning to run low on funds besides much else, not that he had much to begin with. Besides, the village blacksmith here was apparently quite well known, and he needed a new sword as desperately as he needed a new diaper. After this, he’d be out of money. Hopefully the old woman’s job would set him up for after all of this. Before long, he had reached the bottom of a particularly high hill that had prevented him from seeing over the horizon. Salty mud and matted clumps of grass dotted the eleven foot tall mound, made worse by the recent rains. Fost looked at the hill and sighed heavily. Then, taking a large step, he pushed himself up and onto the mound, grunting loudly. Beneath his bare feet, the mud squelched and bubbled, rising through his toes. Another step, onto the steep slope. He placed his foot down and -- sloop. He slipped in the mud, falling backwards onto his polka-dot cloak and down into the mud below, pacifier flying out his mouth. Getting slowly to his feet again, Fost surveyed himself. He had a streak of brown mud down his favorite cloak. What’s worse, his onesie was now speckled with the stuff. Great, he thought, it’s going to be one of those days. He stepped forward again, making sure to be extra careful where he stood. One step up. His toes gripped into the mud. Two steps. He pulled his weight up. Three. Sloop. He slipped back down, falling onto his hands and knees. He tried again. One step. He gripped a tuft of grass, hard. Two steps. He yanked himself up. Three -- swooppllhh. Fost hit the mud with a loud splat. “aaaaAAAAHHH!” he shouted angrily. For the third time, he found himself at the bottom of that damned mound. Why was it so hard to climb a silly little hill? He used to be a soldier! A warrior! And now he was beaten by a little mud. “This is absurd!” he said through labored, angry breaths. It was. He brought his hand to the pacifier around his neck, intending to calm himself again. It was gone. No. No. It couldn’t be gone. Anger turned to panic, as he pressed his hand against his chest, hoping, desperately hoping, that it was just down his onesie. When he couldn’t find it there, he dived into the mud. It had to be here. It had to be here. Fost splashed and flailed in the muck, splattering the thick mess everywhere. He scooped through thick lumps of it, diving deep into the thick ooze to try and retrieve the pacifier. But he couldn’t find it. Panic turned to fear. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and his eyes felt heavy, watery. It was getting hard to see. On the very edge of tears, Fost just stood there, unable to move, unable to think. What would happen if he lost it? That one reminder? No. No. Fost was on the edge of storm, a raging tornado in his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the tempest gather within him. It was energy. It was power. Without a thought for the consequences, he dived into the eye of the storm, summoning it to his will. The rage and the panic and the fear swirled around him, and when he opened his eyes again, a bright white glow consumed them all. He clapped his hands to the sky, feeling the energy inside him burst out and cascade across the air. Ignoring the resulting cramp in his stomach, Fost opened his hands as if pushing a great force outwards. As he commanded so the mud obeyed, and like a great gust of wind, a circle of force was drawn around Fost, clearing the mud. The pacifier, blue and starry, lay on the ground, helpless against the mud that had consumed it. Fost smiled when he saw it. It was safe now. He bent down, delicately picking it up. The twine had snapped. Of course it had. No longer raging, the storm died down, and without thinking, Fost dropped his area of force. His face strained for a moment, and the cramp in his abdomen grew. Automatically, he pushed, and a thick mass of his own mud entered his already full diaper. He sighed deeply, content. Now that nothing was holding it back, the mud that surrounded him swept back to fill the emptiness, and within a moment, he was standing in it again. It was okay. It was okay. The pacifier was nestled between Fost’s cupped palms, sitting against the warmth of his skin. One hand closed tightly, ever so tightly, around the pacifier, and he used his other to swing his travelsack off from beneath his cloak. It was small, only containing some food, some coin and a couple of books, but all had escaped the mud. With grace only seen in a parent caring for a child, he placed the pacifier into the bag, safe with the last of his money. Then, swinging his bag on his back again, he looked back to the slope... ...And refused to climb again. He quickly found a small stone and picked it up. With all his might, with all his effort, he imagined throwing the stone as far as he could, as hard as he could, over the hill. Then, closing his eyes, he dropped the stone. The storm of potential blew inside him again. It was much less this time, more of a strong gust of wind really. But it was enough, and with one great push, he leapt over the hill in a single bound. Well, just over half the hill. He only just passed the summit, before hitting mud, and falling on his bottom with a splat. Underneath him, the poopy diaper squished and pushed a little of his mess out of its confines. He felt the damp of fresh pee as he had another accident, a consequence of the magic. He slid down the other side of the hill, and landed at the bottom with a small splat, feet first. Fost was breathing heavily again. Even using basic Dymatagy usually took a lot out of him. He was muddy, tired, and now in dire need of a change. But, looking up, he saw what he had come for. Perched on a small island in the middle of this gods-forsaken flat, was a little village. Smoke puffed gently from a couple of chimneys, and small wattle and daub cottages stood proudly above the mud. So, brushing off as much of it as he could, he waddled towards the small settlement, trying to ignore his very full pants, and the pee dribbling down his leg.

Law of the Diaper - Prelude - Embos stood at the edge of the water. It crashed far beneath her, obeying only the wind. She had been waiting for her older siblings from across the ocean for a whole hour now, standing in a harsh storm that battered and bruised the cliff face below. Liefyr, her closest brother, had gone to get the others ready. So, she stood alone. The wind howled between her ears and tugged at her hair, and threatened, occasionally, to push her into the waters below. But she was the God of Craft. Embos wore boots of Caerson Steel, strong against the wind, and light to walk in. Each of her sibling gods on this side of the world had given their peoples a gift. Hers was Caerson, a metal both bountiful and useful. Embos hated waiting like this. She needed to do something, to be somewhere, though she didn’t know what on either account. Being the eldest of her siblings, at least of those that left Panthos, Embos felt a great responsibility to the others. A responsibility to nurture and raise. Despite being closer to Liefyr, in age she was similar to her older sibling Vafyr. And that made things complicated. Damn you Vaf, she thought, thinking of the young god. Why had he stayed with the others? Vaf was the weakest of their lot, and certainly wouldn’t be treated as their peer. With Embos and the others, he would be an equal, and great guide for the people here. Her head boiled again with anger, it had been more and more recently. Anger at the war, anger at her elder siblings, anger that she had little power by herself, and anger all she had to rely on were the youngest of gods. No, not anger. Disappointment. Instantly, she felt a pang of shame within her. They are just as valuable, just as powerful in their way. She had to admit, she was surprised at how seriously they were taking it. Normally Pelyr, the youngest of them and the God of Play, convinced Ranos and Liefyr to flunk this sort of thing. Maybe it was because Pelyr would never be able to play again if they failed, that he was taking it so seriously now. Whatever the case, Embos hoped it would last. Another great gust of wind barrelled across the grass, threatening to push Embos into the sea below. Waves crashed against the shore, the ocean’s white teeth foaming against jagged cliffs below. Dull beats, like someone playing the drums, echoed into the sky. The storm whistled around her ears, singing across the ocean. It was a tune she recognised. Looking up, Embos saw her older brother, Vafyr, silhouetted in the ocean mist. He walked on the air itself, using the wind as a path to the safety of the cliff. Around him, the grey mist somehow blushed a bright blue, as if he walked in a halo of sky. It was as if he was the colour of the world. Then again, Embos supposed, I guess he is. Within moments he was stepping onto the rock as if it were still the air, floating across newly budding grass. “Vaf!” Embos couldn’t help but let relief and no small amount of joy flood into her voice. Of all the people they could have sent, this was perhaps the best possible outcome. “Hello sister.” he said calmly, a broad smile across his face betraying any stoicism he might have masked himself with. “They thought you wouldn’t hurt me, so I was sent in place of a messenger.” Vafyr walked to Embos, he was more relaxed than she remembered. “Why would I hurt a messenger? Why would any of us--” “Em, please, I don’t think you’d hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. But that’s not how they think, is it?” Vafyr said as they walked down the shallow incline that led to the village below. Embos saw an opening. Now was the time. Now, after so many years, it was the perfect opportunity to ask. “Then why are you still--” but before Embos could finish, Vafyr cut her off. “I’m sorry, but I cannot say. I have my reasons, and hopefully you will find out soon.” “But I want to know now!” said Embos. She only realised how childish that must have sounded after she’d said it. However, Vaf didn’t seem to mind. He smiled broadly again, a glint in his eye. “Em,” he said, stopping and gently putting his hands on her shoulders. He was a foot taller than she was, towering over her. “I promise, now is not the time, but you will find out.” and that was all he said. Embos knew that was the end of it, she wouldn’t get anything else out of him. Time to move on. They continued their descent to the village. “So, why did you want to speak to us?” Embos asked, “I suppose it would be too much to ask for your loyalty?” The wind picked up again as Vafyr smiled, but the cold never came. Vafyr was too warm for that. “Unfortunately not.” he said, and then he went suddenly serious, his smile fading into what was almost a grimace. “The others want to make a deal with you.” Embos couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “You’re kidding. After all of this?” she said though a deep, slightly hysterical laughter. “After all you’ve put us through, now you want to make a deal?!” This was utterly ridiculous. Her older siblings never, never, made deals with those who were below them. And now they wanted to make a deal with not only ‘lesser gods’ but the enemy? “Now, I know what you are thinking-” Vafyr started to say, but Embos, finally managing to get control of herself, cut him off before he could do any more damage. “No, I’m sorry but no. You expect me to trust them after what they’ve done, not just to us, but the people of this world? This is stupid!” she said, and carried on walking towards the village. Vafyr stopped her, grasping her arm tightly, and suddenly this wasn’t so funny. Embos’ smiling face twisted into a scowl. “If you don’t trust them,” he said, looking deeply, so very deeply, into her, “Trust me.” They held a deep stare for a moment, before Embos broke away. What did he want? What was his plan? Their plan? He was serious, and Vafyr was rarely serious. “What aren’t you telling me Vaf?” He was holding something back, Embos knew it. There was something in his eyes, something curious, something important. He sighed, seeming resigned. “This is big Em. This is bigger than all of us. We came to a decision the other day, that this is the only way we’ll win this war.” He looked almost scared. Embos hadn’t seen him like this before. “What war?” “The only war that matters. There is … something coming.” Vafyr’s eyes glowed with a fearful anticipation. Whatever he was talking about, whatever was coming, was inevitable. The storm picked up again, blowing wind through the hills that edged the cliff face. It rippled across the grass, sending waves of darkness across the landscape. Trees, dotted here and there, swayed and danced about to the tune of the wind. Far above, clouds sped past. They swirled into each-other and ran towards dry land. Tiny droplets of rain hit skin, like pins-and-needles prickling across Embos’ body. Everything moved, everything was dynamic, everything had so much potential. For the first time, she realised how delicate it all was. While blades of grass flickered in the weather, one could simply halt each one with their thumb and forefinger. What would happen if all of this, this beautiful chaos, just … stopped? Embos realised she had been staring into space for a while. Vafyr had let go of her. She looked to her brother, searching for … something, some sort of solace, some sort of answer. Should she let him speak? Let the traitor influence their minds? If Vaf was lying they could lose their lands, their people, and their way of life to the gods across the water. But if he was telling the truth… “Em!” an energetic voice shouted from below. The two siblings atop the cliff whipped their heads around to look. It was Pelyr, their youngest sibling. Far below, the village people were out about behind him, interested to see what was going on. They all wore brightly coloured clothes, some in dungarees, some in onesies. Pelyr, spotting Embos, called again. “Em, c’mon, the others are back!” They could lose everything. If Vaf was right, everything would just stop. Embos raised her arm, shooting him a thumbs-up. Then, turning, she began again down the cliff. Vafyr stayed behind. “Sister …” he said, and Embos turned again. “Come on.” She said, “We have much to discuss.” End of Prelude LotD_Prelude.pdf

Curse of the Crinkle Crate Composed by Horatio Husky Featuring and Commissioned by Kazard the Fox! Chapter 1 The Box I… Want… Couch Time… Now… were the thoughts of a certain blonde-haired fox, as he absentmindedly fumbled with the keys to his small, cozy home. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyelids half open in a vacant stare as he maneuvered his key into the lock of his front door. The day had been absolutely miserable, all of his clients had been in a bad temper when he spoke with them about their problems, and one of them even seemed to believe that the fox didn’t really know what he was doing. Of course, he knew what he was doing! He’d graduated top of his class by no small miracle, the fox was very talented at his work, but the lack of appreciation and frustration that was thrust upon him by his clients was not something studying could have prepared him for. At last, the key turned, and the door swung wide open, shouldering his bag he strode inside and carelessly dropped it in the front hallway, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him with a click, locking it once more. Give… Me… That… Couch… thought the fox once more, as he strode into his living room. However, his couch did not seem to be on the agenda just yet, for the fox almost tripped over a wooden box in the center of the room. Kaz was taken aback, how had this gotten in his home? He didn’t remember lugging a rather plain, heavy looking wooden box into his home. Its dimensions were around two feet by two feet, and a foot and a half tall. Kneeling down, his tail now twitching with apparent interest and curiosity he inspected it closer to find that its lid was hinged, with the front opening to the container facing towards him. What on earth… Did somebody break in and leave this here? He thought to himself, as he reached forward with a paw and tentatively opened the strange box. The lid thumped onto his carpet as he gazed into what was held within the strange item, and was even more confused to see that the box only contained two items in it. A thick square of plastic upon closer inspection Kaz found to be a white, adult diaper, and a note next to it, written in fancy cursive. He picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he perused through a short poem, a strange feeling of warmth he didn’t recognize bubbling up in his insides as he did so. For a year and a day obedient shall you be, To the rules and whims of the box at your knee, Letters and rules shall be provided from these wooden confines, Giving you instructions, tasks, items, and lines, And lest you not listen to my behest, Shall you not have your day-to-day be the best! For control and independence are no longer yours From now you’ll always be clad in diapers! Diapers? Control? Is this all some sort of prank that got delivered into my house that one of my friends managed to sneak in? He turned the note over and found that more was written on the back of it, this time not in the mysterious cursive font as on the front. The rules are simple, Kazard. For a year and a day you will be completely unable to control your bladder nor your bowel, making it that at any time whatsoever, you will completely and utterly mess and wet yourself anywhere you are. Within this box, you will find your solution to this new conundrum in your life, which you have agreed to participate in by opening this box. Whenever you open this box you will be supplied with plain white diapers perfectly matched to handle whatever punishment you give them. It is recommended that you also invest in other supplies related to padding, such as powder and anti-rash cream, but those are up to your discretion. You may try and not wear your diapers, but you will find that it is wiser to comply with the rules and keep yourself nice and secure; your continence will not return either if you do not obey the rules set before you. If you wish to communicate with the box, you must do so through a bargain written on a note to express your wishes. However, be warned: the box is liable to interpret and balance any request or boon as it wishes if whatever you offer is not of equal value, so it may be wisest to obey as instructed and keep yourself diapered at all times of the day, otherwise, the consequences will be severe. With that, we hope you enjoy your next trip around the sun padded up! This has to be a joke… Boxes that interpret poetry and supply diapers whenever opened? This isn’t even a funny prank, this is pathetic. The fox dropped the diaper and note back into the box with contempt, what a stupid thing to waste his time with. He got up, the couch now forgotten as his stomach rumbled its hunger aloud to the room. He padded over to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and rummaging through his dry food cabinet, retrieving a large bag of chips. He held the bag in his maw as he stretched, reaching up to the higher shelf to grab himself a chocolate bar. It was just out of his reach, and he strained, leaning against the counter to support his weight as he grasped after his sweet. The counter must have been wet, however, for he looked down as he felt something damp against him. The bag of chips dropped out of his mouth and onto the counter below him. The counter hadn’t been wet, no. It was he who had gotten wet.

🦊 Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.

Part One The ritual had been completed. I looked at my bride, standing on her own two feet, who looked back at me with a smile so pure it made me want to cry right there. I embraced her, she took her first steps, we thanked everybody, said our goodbyes, and took our leave of the harbor. I helped her out with my arm around her. “I’m seriously going to have to get used to this,” she said, stumbling along. “You’ll get it in no time,” I smiled back at her. I helped her into the wagon and we rode back to the castle. “We’ll come back to the sea sometimes, won’t we?” she asked. “Of course!” I replied, brushing her blue-green hair behind her ear, “It’s your home.” She beamed with happiness and threw her arms around me. When we got there, all of the servants were standing outside, applauding our arrival. “Is that more of your family?” she asked. “More or less. They aren’t related to us, but they work and live here. Come on, you’ve got to meet them! I’ve known them since I was born!” I helped her down. Her legs buckled and she fell into me, giggling sheepishly. We went over to the front of the steps, where everyone was waiting. “Everyone, this is Meri. The newest member of House Whitemore.” More applause. She held onto me tight. I turned to her. “Do you want to say anything?” “Oh! Umm… Well, hello,” she giggled. The rest of them cheerfully greeted her back. “I’m so happy to be welcomed here like this! I can’t wait to know you all as I start my life on land. As you probably know, I’m… from…” I didn’t know what was happening at first. She had on a white dress that reached a bit above her knees. As she trailed off, her face went from happiness to confusion. She looked down, so everyone else did too. Urine was streaming down her legs and splattering into a puddle at her bare feet. Panicked, I looked around at everyone. They were pretty shocked. “Okay, thanks everyone! Come on, Meri, let’s get you cleaned up.” I helped her up the stairs, silence weighing on our entire walk up there. “What happened to me?” she asked me, sounding more curious then upset. “I’ll explain when we get to our room, sweetheart,” I replied. “Come on, let’s…” She gasped when we entered. “It’s beautiful!” she said, stopping in her tracks. “Let’s get you cleaned up first, then let’s look around, okay?” “Okay,” she said patiently, holding onto me tightly.

Hey all! This story was a story started by user BurstingBunnie, called The Urges of Ember the Dragoness, the link for it is here: I highly recommend you read the first two chapters of this story before reading this one for context. I decided to add my own interpretation and conclusion for the story, as this one has not been updated in three years, and was left on a bit of a cliffhanger. This interpretation, should the author return to the original story, is considered "non-canon". The author's version, obviously, should supersede this interpretation, and I welcome the author to return to this story to finish it, or make another story with the same idea or characters. Personally, I really enjoyed the unique setting and scale of Ember, I might return to Ember and the idea of dragon omorashi since I had fun writing this so much. Now, without further ado, her is my interpretation for the final part of The Urges of Ember the Dragoness! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (4,471 words total) Ember exerted her flying strength to the best of her abilities, but could only feel all the liquid in her swollen abdomen slosh downwards and stretch her belly. Her poor bladder, weighing the tons and tons, was a weight too much for even her strength. And she was one of the strongest and fastest fliers of any dragoness. Male dragons were typically far superior in strength and speed to their female counterparts, but nevertheless, she was able to compete with most of the males on the off chance they came into contact. The humans had seen the futile act of flight Ember had displayed, and the Doomsday preachers took notice, and Ember's sympathizers grew weary, but many were compassionate. The Doomsdayers called for war on Ember, as fear took a hold of their agenda. Many more humans grew understanding of their cause and joined in the rally, drowning out the rally of Ember’s supporters. The Doomsdayers hurled aggressions at poor Ember, and some started throwing stones at her. Her scales were plenty tough enough to outlast the thrown rocks - any dragon’s would - but nonetheless it filled her with sadness to see the village turn on her that she put in so much effort and desperation to save. Ember considered trying to stand and walk away from the village and find a place to finally relieve her immense burden, slowly and urgently sloshing inside her huge bladder walls. However, she was afraid to move. The pressure on her poor urethra was beyond immense, implicitly applying it's pressure to her reproductive system, figuratively, as in the arousal from all the pressure, but also literally, as her G-spot ached and begged for something to be put inside it. As she clenched her huge dragon paws on her lower lips, she only just noticed how soaking wet she was. Her juices oozed out of her in preparation for a potential mate to thrust inside of her as she held on to her bladder's payload, moaning and growing as it pushed against her needy pussy and g-spot, only for her to release it all as she came, with enough energy as she roared to create winds to shake homes and trees. Oh… how badly she needed to piss and orgasm everywhere. A thought crossed her mind… Damn these humans, they are but an insignificant species to the might of dragons. The world and time would forget them, and in dragon age, they were mere toddlers. The urge to succumb to her needs mounted. Who in the world would care for a few generations of self-centered humans of one village?... …Ember did. As much as her body begged her to think of herself, even a dragoness such as herself could not bear the guilt of drowning innocent creatures in such a gruesome way. Ember mustered up her strength, wincing and grimacing as she uncrossed her legs. The townspeople quit their squabbling and took notice, nervous in anticipation whether their town was to be drenched in their fiery prophecy. Ember planted her feet, her voluptuous, sexy dragoness body on full display to the town. She blushed red as she knew her soaked, needy pussy lips were being exposed to the whole town, but she had to persevere. She began to stand, her huge bladder bulge again weighing her down. She felt like she drank -and processed- her entire weight in liquid, as she was a big and proud dragoness. The pressure was immense. Tears welled up I'm her eyes as she slowly continued her ascent. Her entire contents pushed down on her urethra and applied the most intense pressure on her G-spot and reproductive system as a whole. Her vision grew blurry as her heart raced and grew light headed. But she was almost there. She was about to click her knees into a fully standing position, standing high above the town… But Ember leaked. She moaned from the pressure, but it sounded like a roar to the townsfolk. A drop, at least a drop to Ember, dripped from her quivering urethra. However this drop was in actuality several gallons of hot piss. It splashed on the ground, creating a small crater and sprayed anyone too close. Ember immediately collapsed from her own weight, digging her paws into her crotch and falling straight on her huge, curvy dragoness ass. The impact of her ass on the ground sent another leak spurting out of her bladder, to be caught by her paw. The impact sent shockwaves equivalent to small earthquakes throughout the village, and its inhabitants were in full panic mode, thinking the dragon they catered so well for was going to finally flood their poor settlement in a blaze of piss. Ember gritted her sharp teeth and clenched her crotch and its respective muscles as much as she could. Her abdomen sloshed and wiggled up and down from the sudden impact, similar to that of a ball impacting the ground and rebounding skyward. The pressure, again, was unbearable. Ember's breath was heavy, with tears in her eyes, clenching down with more force than she ever had to before. The townsfolk that ran to their homes and braced for the waves of amber, started to reemerge at the lack of such. They carefully looked around and back up at the clearly struggling Ember. She felt incredibly weak. Nothing and no one was able to best her strength, but now she was squirming and quivering from her own bladder, it visibly sloshing back and forth as she squirmed, her ass creating a stark imprint in the ground as she wiggled her thick ass into it. Damn it… she thought to herself. She was better than this. She is better than this. She needed to regain her composure. And so, she took a large breath, and consolidated her might to her sore and exhausted pelvic muscles, to recover some semblance of control over herself. Which after some doing, finally took place. She exhaled after what felt like hours… which probably was a few hours it took the recompose herself. She didn't even have to hold herself by her puffy, hot nethers anymore, but she still sit with her dragon thighs squished together with enough force to turn the largest oak trees into splinters. The village decided they needed to figure out what to do next. A threat seemed to loom over them, an unprecedented threat that seemed unavoidable and could not be moved. A meeting was held in the town square, and the most intellectual thinkers and leaders gathered and spoke to the nervous crowd, who glanced at the quivering, squirming dragoness from time to time. The meeting described some solutions that could be taken, but people were split on both the urgency and how much they should invest in a solution. One member suggested they cut their losses and evacuate the city to become the domain of the dragon. Ember, who was able to hear the meeting thanks to supernatural senses. Agreed wholeheartedly, but still felt bad about destroying the homes and lives of the village people. To her dismay, the village was unwilling to leave, and it reflected in the public opinion. Another suggested digging a huge hole so the dragon could relieve herself. More libertarian villagers adamantly opposed, unwilling to devote the time and resources to such a project. Another side stated the logistical concern of how big to make it, and what would the village do with a massive lake, tens of thousands of gallons, with stinking yellow dragon piss. It was ultimately shot down, similarly to an idea to transport Ember the thousands of miles to an ocean via a giant "cart". Another idea sprung forth suggesting that large buckets be used, drawn by horses, to incrementally let Ember empty a little of her bladder over time, to be dumped at a discreet location. Immediately the idea was called into question: "What if the dragon couldn't control her stream?" Ember herself had faith but not certainty she could prevent that from happening. Ember watched in anticipation as the wheels of democracy slowly turned. And slow and aggravating they were. Suggestions turned to arguments, arguments into insults. Ember bounced and jiggled her legs and wiggled her butt. She rolled her eyes at the inefficiency of humans. If dragons had a disagreement, over space or a hoard for example, it all came down to a matter of strength in a battle, sometimes to the death. Although uncommon, these battles were devastating, destroying whole forests and turning hills into mountains from the scars of battle. At least it was more concise than the systems humans put in place. Finally, after hours of discussion, with the sun setting and Ember's bladder continuing to apply its immense pressure, every jiggle of her bulge sending shivers down her spine, and every pulse of her nether region sending arousal to her brain, a conclusion was reached. A more conservative group emerged that wished to keep efforts and costs low, and they proposed engineering a "plug" to keep the dragon's bladder at bay, until the next generations, which they agree to be more advanced and resourceful, can deal with the needs of the dragon. The general public seemed to like this approach, and little opposition was present. Ember was aghast at the idea and blushed red at the thought of the humans inserting a plug into her dragonhood… But her interest was piqued. How well could a human invention stand to the might of a dragon and her bladder? And if it did, the thought of having her bladder be plugged and test her limits was tantalizing. Perhaps, as the mantra goes, dragons can hold forever. She could be the first dragon to have some so, and holding could take this already immense pressure on her reproductive organs and make her sexual endeavors that much more blissful. She could only imagine the feeling of finding another strong, powerful dragon of the opposite sex, bending her over, and fucking her senseless as he presses his scaly organ deep into her, pushing and prodding her bladder's walls, making her feel a great matter of sensual pleasure, making her roar and moan, perhaps even spit fire as she has done in the past. And when all was said and done, the dragon would cum hundreds and hundreds of gallons straight into her womb, filling her up much like her bladder has filled her thus far. She would cum along with him, roaring loud enough to shear the leaves off of trees and uproot them with the boom of her orgasm, that would send both shakes down her body and the Earth. Or… or she could find a guild of male dragons, and submit to them, letting them do whatever they please to her and her bladder, all without spilling a single drop of her payload. They could make her drink, push on her, even engulf her in their fire or be used solely as a vessel for their sexual desires, covering her and filling her up with their semen. She prayed to be used as such until her next hibernation, or even past that. She also thought of touring the world for other dragonesses, and challenging them to a contest of strength regarding their bladders. They could drink entire lakes and seas and see which would be the first to release their bladders of thousands of gallons of piss. Ember might be cheating with the plug, but her bladders sheer tenacity would earn respect on its own. Perhaps it could train her to hold those loads on her own. Having won a contest, Ember could get the dragoness to submit to her, and she could have a harem of desperate (she would forbid them from relieving themselves, of course) dragonesses for her exploitation, and her sexual pleasure whenever she needed it. Her mind wandered to a great variety and quantity of sexual fantasies. Her paws snaked their way down to her crotch to grab a hold of herself, the pressure of her bladder mounting ever so prominently, but also to very gently rub her clit, being nearly the size of a person. She cooed softly at the sensual touch and her runaway arousal as her dreams went wild envisioning the great fun and pleasure she could have. Her daydreaming went on for some time. Her tongue lolled out and her eyes squint closed and she caressed, squeezed, and rubbed her horribly needy clit. However, the feeling lasted for only what appeared to be a short while, as the rays of the sun and the murmurs of the town awoke her. She opened her eyes, it was morning now, she must have been daydreaming those lewd thoughts all night. The cluster of town inhabitants stood within very close proximity to her crotch, her quivering pussy in full view of them. She blushed horribly as they motioned up and down and talked amongst themselves. The group all looked fairly smart, Ember thought it might have been a group of the village’s smartest people to address their problem. She remembered the town's idea of a plug, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed but also excited for its “installation”. The members of the group reached a consensus, it seemed, and motioned a group to come forward. Out came a large wagon, with a completely peeled and sanded tree trunk, just big enough to fit her urethra, it would seem, carried by a number of peasants. Ember grew flushed as she could feel herself sweat. The anticipation was also making her need much more precedent. She tried to avoid covering herself, but curled her toes and clenched her teeth keeping her flood at bay. The wagon had reached its destination, right at the level of her urethral opening. Ember breathed deep and heavy breaths as she tried to maintain her composure. She could tell just by looking at it, that the trunk was still definitely too big to fit, at least conventionally. However, she only just noticed how slick and wet she still was around her crotch. Her pussy was soaking wet with her teasing and self-indulgence and daydreaming, which extended to her urethral opening, serving as a lubricant, making the opening slick and slippery. Some of the men jumped on the wagon, and began pulling and stretching her urethra’s opening. “Mmmmmf!!~” She barely contained a moan and rolled her eyes back in pleasure. Her poor peehole was so sensitive and sore from her endeavors that the human’s tiny hands sent amazing sensations to her brain. They could barely get a grip to pull it open, as it was so well-lubricated. Some other men began to push the end of the trunk into her urethra while the others held it open. It prodded the opening, sending more sensations of pleasure and anticipation within Ember. She gripped her scally thighs as the nipples on her breasts began to harden like boulders. The men began to very slowly push the trunk inside her. Ember was in pure bliss, she felt she was on the verge of cumming violently from all these feelings. She pinched and twisted her right nipple as she clenched her left thigh with intense strength. The more they pushed, the more Ember began to reach the tipping point of releasing her pent up sexual need. She could feel herself getting closer… and closer… and closer… She could feel it, that burning release she had been craving for over a millenia… It was right there… just… a bit… more… But the townsfolk stopped pushing the trunk. It was now solidly in her puffy, quivering urethra, and felt no need to keep pushing. “No! Please! Keep pushing! I’m so close!”. Ember was desperate and enraged that she was so near her release. The pressure to orgasm and to piss the volume of lakes was immense, and the trunk exacerbated both, but now it wasn’t enough to please her. Ember could only sigh in disappointment. But in the meantime, the village revoiced. They felt they were victorious in the threat over their settlement, providing a strong but temporary solution to their problem, to be solved by their future generations. Ember was less certain of the plug’s durability. She felt that if she pushed even a little hard, or made one wrong move, or God forbid: orgasm, it would shoot out as a projectile and drown the village in their prophecy, providing Ember with the intense relief and satisfaction she desperately craved, but was ultimately not worth taking the innocent lives of thousands of humans. She decided to let the humans have their victory. At the very least, she would not have the threat of leaking under normal circumstances. Despite the added assurance, Ember decided not to take any unnecessary risks by standing or walking, with flying now an impossibility. She made herself comfortable in the patch of land she had been sitting in for the past couple days. It had been a few weeks now, and Ember was still holding on tight, with her new lid firmly on the overflowing bottle of her bladder. Her belly extended so far she couldn’t see the top half of her thighs. The pressure of her bladder of many lakes pushed on all aspects of her body immensely. The rainy season’s rains only added to her pressure. On some days a downpour would torrent on Ember. If the torrents happened while she slept, her dreams were filled with the thoughts of those rains adding each and every drop to her ginormous capacity. It could be said with certainty, that Ember held the most any dragon, nay, any thing has ever held before. And Ember loved it. The pressure on her urethra, on her body, on her libido, everywhere pressure could be felt, it was there, and she loved it all. Liquid sloshed inside of her, bouncing her belly back and forth, up and down as she moved every so slightly. Despite her bladder’s condition, she still craved more. During the downpours she would open her jaws to the sky and inhale more and more of the rain’s water, adding perhaps another couple hundred, if not thousands, of gallons of liquid to her gargantuan tank. Not because she was thirsty, but just so she could see just how far she could go. She had been slowly and secretly playing with herself those weeks as well, she was so incredibly sensitive from all the pressure, that just by touching her clit she risked orgasming everywhere and releasing her contents all over the village. She regrettably remained mostly abstinent from her indulgence, but it was truly starting to weigh on her. And she truly, truly, needed to pee. Even as the dragon montra goes, with dragons never needing to pee and all, Ember had to admit to herself that after drinking perhaps an oceans worth of water, it was only a matter of time before she would burst everywhere. The tree trunk that had remained in her urethra for all those weeks was beginning to loosen, the pressure slowly working it out of her. Yet, the townspeople took no notice or care in Ember, despite her plainly obvious condition. They had no understanding, so they remained blissfully unaware of the impending doom they thought they had solved for the time being. Ember put a paw on her belly, it was completely firm. It had no give, and now, no more room to expand. By this point, there was little she could do but try to hold back the inevitable. She clawed at her crotch to try to push the plug far enough into her urethra, to no avail: the pressure slid it back out just after she would push it back in, every time. She breathed heavily, just trying her absolute hardest to remain in control that was slowly slipping from her. But on this Spring afternoon, something felt a bit off to Ember. As a dragoness, she was notably in touch with her surroundings, even in her desperate state. She could feel the ground shake, and it felt as if something was… moving, no, churning inside of the Earth. Suddenly, the churning sensation started to turn to a slight rumble. Uh oh. Ember recognized almost immediately what was going on. She has been on this Earth for many eras and witnessed many of these events. The rumble grew stronger, the people of the village looked around in confused concern. And then, the Earth began to shake. The shaking sensation was much felt by Ember’s bladder, her firm abdomen sloshing back and forth as the ground shook. She clawed her crotch, barely able to reach it around her hugely distended belly. The shaking grew more and more in intensity, people fled to their homes, screaming and panicking. Suddenly, a cracking boom was heard all over the village. It came from the mountain that Ember used to call her den. The mountain was beginning to collapse in on itself! The mountain imploded, as suddenly huge clouds of ash began to erupt out of the side of the mountain. No doubt about it, the large mountain that Ember called her den was actually a dormant volcano! It explains why the mountain’s insides were nice and warm, she thought. The implosion opened a crater inside the mountain, and hot magma began pouring out and flowing quickly towards the village! Ember had seen eruptions before, but this volcano had produced the most magma she had ever seen, it would absolutely drown the village in fiery death no sooner than a minute! Ember knew what she had to do. Perhaps on instinct, perhaps due to her absolutely insanely desperate need, she made up her mind to save the village, once again. But first she had to position herself between the village and the flow. The magma flow was approaching the East side of the village; she was at the North. She would have to stand and move in order to meet it, and fast. As quickly as she could, she began to stand up, her bladder violently protesting ,trying to release several leaks as she moved. She grew light headed from standing up so fast, and moaned at the sensation. She still had her paws firmly in her crotch. She paced over to the East side, her staggered steps ringing thuds that shook the Earth. Her bladder tried to spurt and release its contents at every step. Her bladder had enough, it wanted out. Ember managed to reach the East side of the village perimeter, the flow advancing strongly towards her, the heat of the lava warming her where she stood. Her bladder was pushing with incredible force, Ember’s vision grew fuzzy as she breathed very heavily. The tree trunk that was stuffed into her uterus was slipping out, and splintering from the force it had kept at bay for so long. This is it, Ember knew exactly what she had to do. She fell down on her thick rump, laid back, legs spread, and pushed with all her strength. The tree trunk flew out like a projectile, and the frothing, boiling piss, trapped in her for millennia from before her hibernation, sprayed out in a similar fashion. Ember roared violently at the pleasure and satisfaction she experienced, and immediately dug her paw onto her clit, to which it took only a few strong strokes for her to orgasm the most amazing and violent orgasm she had ever experienced. The piss poured out like the strongest waterfall on Earth, and cooled and hardened the lava, stopping it in its tracks! The piss misted into the air on contact with the magma, so there was no risk of Ember flooding the valley of the village. Ember’s piss and sustained orgasm lasted for hours, all the liquid inside of her taking its time to come out, but still shot out with such incredible force it could carve a canyon into the hardest rock. Ember was in pure bliss. The only thing that could make it better was a giant dragon cock being stuffed inside her as she released, but she could hardly complain. But as the day turned to evening, Ember’s torrential waterfall turned into a river, then to a stream, then to a trickle, then nothing at all. The volcano had similarly emptied its contents, the magma hardened into a unique obsidian that shined a glossy black. Ember felt weak and limp, but was completely, totally satisfied. Her breath was heavy, and she was tired. But eventually, she mustered her strength to look back at the village she had saved. They looked at her, utterly flabbergasted, but erupted into cheers and celebration at their savior, once again. The prophecy came true, somewhat, but the boiling yellow rivers were to save their village, not to destroy it. A celebration bigger than the last was held, with more partying, drinking, and even praying and blessing the dragoness, as to some, she was a goddess. Ember was flattered, but was too exhausted to do much of anything else. The same as before, she was offered expensive wine and the best animals the farms could slaughter for her consumption, which she accepted gracefully. She once again drank a strong amount of alcohol and other beverages, which made its way through her tired kidneys and to her battle-scarred bladder. But she could hardly care, she was so exhausted. She dozed off to sleep as the partying continued into the night. Ember awoke to the whole town bowing and praying to her. As a sign of good fortune, they continued their offerings, but Ember knew she had overstayed her welcome, by some time. She felt much lighter, shedding perhaps her entire body weight in urine. She felt flight come back to her as easy as ever, and her stomach, still bloated as it was recovering, was much, much smaller. Ember bowed back to the village, which gave one last hurrah back to Ember. She beat her wings, and began to take off to the skies, to explore the world once more after her hibernation, seeking the company of other dragons, particularly male ones - despite her pleasure, she wouldn’t feel totally fulfilled without something extra. She flew a thousand miles, before coming across a lake and feeling thirsty, to which she gulped nearly half its volume. Her belly full of liquid, she took to the sky, this weight meaning little to her by now. She flew another couple thousand miles, before reaching a shoreline over a massive ocean. The sight of all that water made Ember start to feel the very first urges of needing to piss, rather unprecedented being so soon after her immense relief. Ember ignored the urge, and continued to fly over the ocean, opting to hold it. The End

This started off as a little request for a friend and kind of spiralled into this. If ya'll like it I might continue it! ---- The great Ember stirred from her sleep... she had been lying within the mountain cave for some two thousand years, dreaming and peaceful. Though, the last few centuries had been somewhat turbulent, with occasional squirming and moaning, that eventually became constant, and an endless sea of vivid, erotic dreams. In her mind she was teased and pleasured by a dozen lovers, and never allowed to reach her climax. Her pent up arousal had built up as the magma beneath the earth would before a volcano erupts. In a similar fashion, the many dozens of lakes she had consumed before her long rest had now filtered into her gargantuan bladder, forming a bulge in her lower stomach the size of a large swimming pool, and with ten times the volume of liquids compressed within; yellow, steaming and frothing angrily for release. Amongst the sexual frustration of her long dreams had come splashes of bathroom urgency, she dreamed of the sea coming to destroy the world, and only she could save it by consuming every last drop. She dreamt that the sea was angry, taking the form of a beautiful water nymph contained inside her cavernous fluid tankard, and that she was violently pummelling her pussy for escape from piss prison. Her crotch was the size of house, and it throbbed with need throughout this all, clenching rhythmically in her sleep, pulsing in time with her heart. It was near her time to awaken... Finally, when the time had come for this curvaceous creature to wake, her massive thighs came together to squeeze her lower muscles, she shivered in urgency to create her yellow lake, and to settle the tightly wound heat within her. When her eyes opened, Ember took in her surroundings, the same old cave she’d rested in all those millennia ago. It was home, deep within a mountainside, and she felt refreshed from the rest. One mighty claw moved to her dragoness womanhood, teasing the slick, puffy lips with her fingers and cooing softly at the sensations of pleasure that tingled up her wide hips, her truly vast rear end wiggling her thick tail. An oozing trickle of her liquid lust made her inner thighs sticky, and she grunted, tensing her face, when a sharp pulse of piss need shook her bladder walls.The hot contents of her cavernous container were threatening to spew forth, spraying haphazardly around and flooding her lair. Ember held it in, corking herself with her will. She rolled, gently onto her back, and brought her over palm down to massage the firm swell of her lower stomach; her distended bladder. She could feel it quivering beneath her touch like a frightened deer, but she attempted to sooth it, shushing it and its protests for relief. “Soon...” she breathed, her voice heavy and soft; husky and dripping with arousal. There was a giant lake right outside her cave, it had served as her bathroom for eons; a river flowed down into it and another out of it again, meaning the water was constantly filtered and made fresh. Often she used it to bathe, but those rare times when she required a piss it would take but a few months for the urine to have filtered out completely. Given that she often felt no urge at all until at least a hundred years after her last release, this was plenty of time for it to make itself useful as her personal toilet. With the knowledge that relief was close at hand, she had nothing to fear, so decided to enjoy her incredible fullness a while longer. Perhaps using it to bring about the climax she craved almost as dearly as the enormous leak wanted to be taken. The palm on her bladder pressed down firmly, causing her to grunt heavily and whine to herself, her pussy ached and spasmed with desire, hungry for her huge fingers. She gave them to her. Though they were clawed, she had long-since filed them down, not requiring them for defence any longer now that the ancient ages had passed and no creature alive existed to threaten her. The huge fingers reached deep within the clenching caverns of her vagina, her lower palm now grinding against her stiffened clitoris and moist labia. Ember found the rock hard pressing of her bladder inside herself and began to grind her fingers against it, sending shivers of desperation down her spine. Her hind legs rose up as she felt the orgasm that was several millennia overdue building at last. Her truly huge, jiggling ass cheeks were on display, and her rear end wobbled as her tail bounced gently beneath it. She wanted it to last, but the pleasure of her urine crushing down on her g-spot was enough to make her scream; it was all she could do to avoid cumming instantly when her fingers had entered. So, as she continued to crush her boiling ocean from within, massage her sparking clit, and mash her palm against her engorged lower lips, Ember knew that the inevitable would soon come at last. She gasped loudly, a booming noise, and then began to grunt, buck her hips and cry out. Smoke puffed from her snout as the brimstone within her boiled as hot as her piss. Her moans were so loud that the whole mountain shook. It was just as the beautiful beast was on the verge of an earth shattering climax, that she heard the screams. Freezing in place, Ember’s impeccable hearing perked up, and the sound of distressed humans was obvious. Frowning, having not recalled any human settlements near her when she’d slept; she cursed herself for not checking. Her bladder took this moment to demand release, and she cringed, withdrawing her fingers and using them to plug up her puckered piss hole, which itself was the size of a house. The ancient dragoness clenched with all her limitless might, and struggled to rise to her feet, spreading her aching wings and attempting to make her way out of the cave, only lead to a powerful slosh as her ocean of urine shifted inside her. The mass of hot, angrily boiling piss was vast, even for someone of her size. She whined softly, her face flushed, as the pressure of her bladder only intensified her arousal, and yet more of her juices made her plump thighs all sticky. The pressure of her bladder was significantly worse now, especially when combined with the how tortuously close she’d come to fulfilling her most animalistic of needs. Ember finally made her way out of her cave, the morning air making her shiver, and her muscles tremble. Casting her gorgeous, orange eyes down, she was stunned and frozen in shock. Where before had been her personal lake for relief and refreshment, there was now dry land, and a large, bustling village of humans. They had heard her moans as roars, and the shaking mountain was seen as evidence of her fury. Their legends had long told of a terrible dragon that would bring forth a steaming, burning, yellow blaze of destruction, and they believed their time had come. Ember had no way to communicate with these people, so she decided only to leave, to fly away to some new place with a new ocean, far from people. Somewhere she could live in peace, pleasure herself, and water the flowers in privacy. Her wings were curled up from her rest, cramped and asleep, but she gently forced them to open, stretching wide on her hind legs briefly. All of this caused her a cacophony of sloshing, splashing sound; it felt if a tsunami had struck her insides, and in truth it had. Ember, wings outstretched, froze in place and closed her eyes, a grunt echoing loudly across the valley. Her teeth bared and clenched, her thighs shook and caused tremors to disturb the mountain once more, and the cries of the humans increased. She must have been about to unleash the awful burning heat that would destroy their homes and lives, surely! Unbeknownst to them, Ember was using all her mighty muscles to avoid this. Oh, how badly she wanted to piss now! How much the pressure was causing her loins to burn with desire! How she wanted to just lift one of her mighty, meaty hind legs and let rip a thunderous waterfall of hot piss right now; like the world's largest dog in the world's hottest heat. She wanted to piss her mind away, and then grind her aching pussy on the mountain’s surface until she came as hard as anything had cum before. Calling out and spraying her fluids of pleasure and pressure far and wide. Yet she knew that a good, and proud Dragoness, would never piss where men might see, where anyone might see. She would fly to the oceans, to the most isolated parts of the world and only then would she release herself. The journey would take some days, but she could hold it. A dragon can hold her piss forever if need be, and Ember was the strongest dragon of them all. Only, now she didn’t feel like a dragon; she felt like a puppy, a bursting bitch clawing at the door to be let out, to find a nearby tree a-and... no. She was strong. She would not piss, not yet. A dragon never pisses. As she repeated this and similar mantras in her mind, she spread her wings and, with a hefty swoosh, took to the air. Deep within, her bladder sloshed with a noise like thunder, and the people cried and held their loved ones close. Ember paid them no mind, and hurried away from the city, out beyond them and into the distance. She was a swift flyer, even with all this extra weight to keep her from her usual altitude, yet it mattered not. Settling in for the short, few-day-flight to relief, she forced her mind to leave her bladder for now. Not entirely successfully, as her horny brain kept reminding her how full she was, even fuller than typically after such a sleep, and how erotic the stretching feeling was. With every stroke of her wings, the fluids inside her swirled up and down, crashing into the top and bottom of her absurdly wide bladder walls, bulging either her stomach slightly further outwards, or making contact with the rest of her internals and squishing them for extra space. Ember’s payload was truly gargantuan, and she couldn’t help leaking frequent quantities of natural lubrication down onto the hills and valleys bellow her. What didn’t help at all were the rains that soon started. Gentle enough at first, then high powered winds that smashed against her and slowed her forward progress. The clouds grew heavy and grey with moisture, and when they could hold it no longer it was unleashed on the countryside. Each tiny droplet was like a stinging spark of electricity to Ember, shooting through her body and focusing in on the mass of conductive, pent up piddle inside her abdomen. She squirmed in the air, slowing her flight even more and causing her to drop down lower from the clouds and their terrible, gushing sounds. Though it wasn’t easy, Ember managed to adjust to this noise, letting the pitter-patter of raindrops become like background static. The feeling of the droplets on her scales was harder to ignore, or picture as anything but what it was, yet she managed to settle the revolting of her bladder by again maintaining her mantra, this time cooing it to herself as if it were a prayer. “Dragons don’t piss. Dragons never piss. I do not need to piss. I could hold forever if I wanted. I can wait as long as it takes. Dragons don’t piss.” This worked for a time. After about five miles of distance, she came across a huge body of water within a stone structure. Ember now realised how her relief had gone away; the humans had constructed an impressive dam to hold the water at bay and open the lands up for settling. Despite the inconvenience this had caused her by delaying her comfort, she found herself impressed by the little creatures. They always found new ways to make use of the lands, and bring Mother Nature to heel. Ember was reflected on how alike the structure was her own privates now; a solid wall that valiantly held back the will of nature and of water, containing thousands of gallons of furious water. One of her many dreams returned to her, that of the terrible water Nymph she had drank and held prisoner. Her wings shuddered with the rest of her. The dam had almost passed her by, when her enhanced vision spotted something alarming. There was a crack, a crack forming in the stone. One here, another elsewhere, and at once they were all about! Ember stopped where she was, keeping herself in the air, and brought her front legs to her mouth in a gasp. The dam was shuddering under the weight of something, but what? The rain! Realisation came as strong as and as forceful as the waves did to the walls of the human creation. The torrential rainfall had caused a build up in the water, and perhaps caused by some random strike of lightning, or a rouge gust of wind, a terrible series of waves had formed inside the contained lake. The battering of these waves had not been planned for by whoever built this dam, and it was coming crumbling down. It was with horror that Ember realised the people of the town would literally be washed away by this flood; their doom! It was her duty as a greater being, an older being, to prevent this. In searching her mind, she closed her eyes and groaned, heavily, inwardly, as she realised the only thing she could do to save them. It was going to be painful, but she must. Ember would have to drink it all. Just as the benevolent beast had mentally prepared herself for this task, the dam suddenly burst! The water sent the stone wall exploding in all directions, crumbling it to dust beneath its force and flooding down the valleys, heading directly for the village as her personal lake once had. Ember wasted no time, closing her mind and her nerves to the pain in her bladder from the sound, the sight, and now the sudden movement; she soared through the air at top speed to catch the flood. It took about two miles for her to catch up, and by then the village was in sight! The people who had been celebrating the falseness of their prophesied demise, and the departure of the dragon, were suddenly thrown into hysteria again as they saw both her, and the waves, approaching. By now, Ember was ahead of the water, and had only to find some way to direct it into her jaws. She got ahead of it and landed only a mile from the people, her back to them, facing the hurtling, exponentially accelerating water. Her brow lowered, her eyes narrowed, and with a mighty deep breath she unleashed a great wave of fire which reduced the hills either side of her to molten lava. Once done, her wings spread out and cupped this magma, unharmed by its heat, then shifted the masses into a sort of funnel shape, directing all the water towards her face. Finally, she took a deep breath, blowing the rock until it started to harden once more. She opened her jaws as wide as she could and prepared herself, her stomach, and her poor bladder for the impact. --- That's all for now, let me know what you think and it may continue! Also, while you're here, you can check out some similar little ideas on my forum thread: https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/47053-tiny-stories-and-poems-of-desperation/ Thanks for reading! ❤️

Hello friends! This is where I will be posting short-form ideas that do not expand into full fanfics. I post them in general because they're not structured/long enough to be fics, I don't think. This is my third time posting omo content online, so I'm still very new. Criticism is welcomed but please be nice about it. Also, some of this will involve sex. anyway, getting us started. so in your typical fantasy setting, elves are usually thought to be more resilient/stronger/can go longer without attending to their bodily needs than humans, right? I'm thinking of that with omo. Elven royalty training to hold for as long as possible, their poor tormented bladders swelling to the size of basketballs, even beach balls, able to hold a solid few gallons before they finally have to go. Imagine the bladder bulges, standing out firmly against their normally toned stomachs. Imagine elven royalty having perfect composure even when they've got two or three gallons of water contained in them. Now imagine them being pushed past their limits even then, sweat breaking across delicate brows, toned thighs beginning to tremble, toes beginning to curl. Imagine the quiet "... Could you please, if it's not too inconvenient, tell me where I can find a chamber pot?" when they really can't hold anymore. Imagine them being refused and faced with either finding it themselves and possibly offending their hosts or soaking delicate silks and velvets with literal gallons of pee. Or imagine the host being kind and showing them a real chamber pot, but it's just too small to hold all of their waters, and they have to try and stop their stream, wait for the servants to empty their chamber pot, then finish. Imagine them having to do that multiple times. Or maybe the host has to borrow a large bucket or cauldron or barrel for them to go into, if they value their comfort that much/are that kind. Imagine the relief when they finally do find somewhere appropriate to pee, a full five minutes of gushing and holding back moans, determined not to humiliate themselves more than they already have. Or, with average elves, human friends/lovers/co-adventurers seeing their elven compatriots' bulges for the first time, not as big as the bulges of royals of course, but still able to retain a solid gallon. Imagine how shocked and surprised they are. I bet they would probably push the elf in question to just find a tree or bush or alley or something, not to torment themselves in this way. Unless, of course, they told them to hold it more. See how big that sucker can get. Imagine an elven adventurer visiting the home of a gnome or halfling and having to hold it the whole time because the bladder size difference is so great. Imagine the gnome/halfling/fairy/other short race just telling them to go in the garden if they find out. Or imagine them lining up three to six chamber pots for them to use and the elf having to crab walk from one to the other in order to fully empty themselves 😅 Of course, your average elf probably wouldn't be as resistant to just going in the woods/garden/whatever as elven royalty, so there's more opportunities for peeing in things that aren't toilets, if you're into that like I am. Also has opportunities for hurt/comfort after a wetting, if you're into that--"I'm an elf, I'm not supposed to soil myself like this!" "Don't worry, *elf-friend's name*, even you aren't invincible, you just pushed yourself too hard. Let's get you nice and clean and we won't worry about this anymore." There are opportunities for messing, too, if you're one of those who believes elves eat a plant-based (and high in fiber) diet. Also, imagine how much a bladder bulge of a few gallons would jiggle and bounce and slosh when the elf moves. Pure torment, I bet ❤️

GUESS WHO FINALLY GOT THEIR POSTING PRIVILEGES? No more waiting a week and a half for mods to approve my posts for this bitch! I am getting into omo writing. All of these will be in the same universe. This post will be an introduction. These stories, mostly short and nonlinear, will focus on a King, Garnet III, his Queen, Cordelia, and the harem they keep (and yes, it is shared). Fantasy setting. The kingdom, Riverkeep, is small but peaceful. There are some other kingdoms nearby, one of which, Helmsmount, is experiencing some political strife. As a result, some dissidents have sought shelter in Riverkeep (this will be important later). It is in a fairly temperate region with hot summers and cold winters. The harem dwellers are kept in plush conditions, and are given plenty of jewelry and other finery to wear. In the summer, they're encouraged to wear little else. Normally, they get five pee/poop breaks a day, called toilet passes or potty passes, that they can use whenever they want, with these breaks resetting daily at midnight (they can plead for more if they're really desperate, but may be refused). Unlimited breaks are given only in the case of illness or significant injury. The toilets themselves are mostly variations on the chamber pot, although other options will be used. Main characters include: King Garnet Mid thirties. Considered rather handsome. His skin is tan and smooth, and his body is toned from athletic training and a good diet, with a bit of pudge on the belly, but not very much. His hair is dark and curly, and shines brown in the sun. His eyes are dark and, in the right light, his eyes look almost wine-red. Fond of women with MILFy builds, and skinny twinks and femboys. Considered a capable leader due to his care for domestic issues Charismatic, wise, intelligent, all that that makes a good leader Average bladder, but good at making it seem bigger than it is by managing his fluid intake. Maximum hold time is between eleven to thirteen hours. Will not urinate outside of his private pot unless there are quite literally no other options other than clothing. Dislikes even doing it in front of Cordelia. Queen Cordelia: Late twenties. Curvy build, with large hips, a round butt, and breasts around the side of a large orange or smaller grapefruit. Fairer skin than her husband. Brown eyes that have been described as honey-colored or amber. Her hair is long, wavy, blue-black, and well cared for. She has shapely, plush lips and is fond of lipstick. Not a lot of body hair, but the carpet matches the drapes, and is thick. Several harem members attempted to shave it all off one time and it took the better part of an hour before it was all gone. Empathetic and a little daft Big bladder. Max holding time around eighteen hours. Will urinate in front of those who desire to see it, but never where anyone else could see her--no public latrines, alleyways, or bushes. If she's travelling, she has to have a servant bring her chamber pot and set up a special tent. Even then, she doesn't like it. Flint: Male harem member. Late twenties. Smooth tan skin, with some pink scarring, mostly on his back. Dark brown, straight hair just past his shoulders. Gray eyes. Strong build, hint of abs. This next point mentions violence, so it's under a read more. It's backstory. Is subservient to Cordelia and almost excessively chivalrous to her Intelligent, appreciates that Garnet is the same. Has some trauma from his ejection from Helmsmount. The best remedy is either "quality time" (wink wink) with Cordelia or a nice long talk with Jim. Average cock, a bit long and thin. Pubes soft and fine. Slight happy trail. Average bladder. Maximum hold time is around twelve hours. Will urinate in public, but would rather use a toilet if one is available. Jim: Male harem member. Late thirties. Pale skin. Dirty blond hair that's a bit shaggy. Has a beard of the same color. Plenty of body hair to match, especially on his chest, abdomen and around his genitals. Prominent happy trail and thigh hair. Speaking of genitals, his are very large, both in length and girth. You can see it through his pants sometimes. It's also a nice-looking cock, with a good color and shape. Solid build, with a slight dad bod and strong arms. Fatherly disposition, took Flint under his arm because he thought "the lad looked lost" Very large bladder. Maximum hold time around twenty-four hours. He managed that only once, and with extensive leaking. Genuinely enjoys peeing, too. Has little shame about public urination--"we all gotta go." Rosemarie: Female harem member. Early twenties. Slender build, not much muscle, not much fat. Redheaded, but no freckles. Green eyes. Hair is a bit above shoulders. Smaller breasts--maybe the size of a lemon. Very, very attracted to Cordelia Hotheaded disposition. Irritates easily. Can be needy. Very subservient to Cordelia. Prefers to watch others pee, especially Cordelia. Will drink pee. Pubes are soft and fine, with no happy trail or thigh fuzz. Small bladder. Maximum hold time around six hours. Usually needs a pee at night. Frequently has to pee in a bucket or in the harem-members' exercise yard due to running out of potty passes. Due to this, has no shame in peeing in front of others. Background characters will be present. This may be edited later. First story post! This one's very x rated lol As soon as Garnet entered, the lovers swarmed around him. One lover took his crown and laid it carefully aside. Another unbuttoned his tunic and helped him out of it. Yet a third took his pants and shoes. A fourth gently pulled his undergarments from him, leaving him bare. A red silk robe was drawn about his shoulders, and he was led to a large round mattress dressed in velvet, where he lay down, sighing heavily at the lack of weight. He let his eyes close for a moment. A kiss was placed on his nose. “Would you like to be taken to your bed, your majesty?” He sighed. “No… no. I am merely a bit drained. Where is Cordelia?” The girl, slim and bare-breasted with piercings of ruby in each nipple, bit her soft lip. He recognized her as Lila, a new-ish addition. “... I know not. Would you like me to summon her?” Garnet sighed. “Yes. After that, come right back… I think I would like to play with those piercings you have.” She giggled. She sent for a servant, then came back, sitting next to him and baring her large chest. He carefully turned the piercings around within her soft pink nipples, marvelling at how they caught the light. She squeaked and squealed as he manipulated her soft buds. “... I think I will make someone breed you,” he murmured. “I think I would like to see those pretty breasts of yours full of milk.” She flushed. “Why… thank you, my lord.” Another presence approached the bed. Garnet looked up. “Cordelia. How nice to see you. Come, sit with me.” He sent Lila away with a wave of his hand. Cordelia sat, carefully. “You wanted to speak to me?” “I wanted to be with you,” Garnet sighed. “Has this day not been stressful? I thought we could perhaps have some time together.” “I… well…” She swallowed. “I… yes, I do love spending time with you.” He held his arms out. “Come to me.” She lay back into his arms, then squeaked and flinched hard, clenching her thighs. “What is wrong?” “I… I have been… I have not had the chance to pass urine all day…” She whimpered. “... I need to go so badly… I have been holding it since this morning. My lady parts are throbbing so badly. Please, I would do anything for a chamber pot!” She writhed, humping his leg. “I want you here,” Garnet replied, stroking her hair. “‘Tis not the same if it isn’t you. Can you hold it in?” One of the lovers, a girl named Rosemarie, laid a hand on Cordelia’s hip. “Allow me to assist, my lady.” “What do you mean?” Rosemarie stroked Cordelia’s hip tenderly. “It would be an honor, my lady, if you used my mouth to relieve yourself.” Cordelia initially looked like she wanted to refuse, then another wave of desperation struck. She gripped her lady-parts and writhed hard. “... Be quick! I do not know how much longer I can last!” Rosemarie gently guided Cordelia onto her back, spreading her legs and opening her robe. Rosemarie’s breath carded softly through Cordelia’s thick muff. Cordelia felt her pee hole quiver. Warm lips settled on her core, around her pee hole, and suckled tight. She moaned. “Now,” Garnet said. “Let go.” Cordelia focused. A strong tingling sensation jetted up into her abdomen as the pressure released. Her warm stream trickled over Rosemarie’s tongue. “Ooooh…” Rosemarie hummed. Her tongue laved against Cordelia’s core. The tingling in Cordelia’s lady parts burst into an incredible pleasure. Her clit throbbed. Her thighs quivered, opening wide and then wider. Rosemarie pushed her tongue against Cordelia’s clit just as her pee-stream hit its peak. The pee teased against her from the back, and Rosemarie’s tongue from the front, and between the two, the pleasure made her see stars. Just then, Garnet pinched both of her soft pink nipples, and that was her undoing. She came with a moan that resonated around the wooden paneled walls and off the velvet furnishings. When she came to, Rosemarie was gently wiping her lady-parts clean with a warm wet rag, and Garnet was sitting above her, smiling. She pouted, giving Garnet a wifely Look. Garnet just laughed. “Love you, Lia.” She grumbled. “Love you too.”

This is a piece I wrote for someone, just thought of sharing it here for the ladies who might be interested. Apologies if it is not good enough. Happy New Year 2018 to all! Enjoy! ---- Athena, The Lady of Thesox loved watching men desperate to pee. All her life, she had dreamt of controlling a man’s piss. Having absolute authority over a man’s bladder. After her husband, the lord passed away, leaving behind five children in her safety, Athena had found herself busy with the duties of being a mother and the lady of a vast kingdom. But now that her children were busy with themselves, it left Athena with the time to explore her fantasies. Lady Athena declared an open challenge, “I hereby declare that I will award a large castle and a beautiful wife to any man who would dare to accept my challenge of holding his piss until I give him the discretion to release his waters...” The word spread like wildfire through the country, but no man dared to accept the challenge. Several days passed but to Lady Athena’s great dismay, no one stepped up to confront her. But then, a fortnight later, a man named Malcolm visited her castle. “I accept your challenge!” he said. “Oh, but remember, once you participate, you can only quit if I give you the permission, and not before” Lady Athena smirked. “I accept your challenge my lady” Malcolm said, “I have a large bladder.” “Very well then, the challenge will start tomorrow, get a good night’s sleep” she said, “I shall see you in the morning.” Malcolm was shown to his chambers by the servants. The next morning, when Malcolm visited the grand hall of the castle, he found Lady Athena already waiting for him there, with a large tub of lukewarm water that had vapours of steam rising from it. “From today on, each day, you’ll drink a hundred and ninety litres of water in the morning. An elephant drinks this much in the entire day, so I guess it will be good for you as starters” Athena smiled haughtily, almost expecting Malcolm to be shocked at the amount she had mentioned but the man stood defiant. Gulping the lump in his throat, he began drinking from the tub with the help of a jug. And after two hours of continuous drinking, the man was finished with the tub. “Looks like you have finished it all! Good, that’ll ready you for a big pee” Lady Athena smiled. It was true, Malcolm’s stomach felt bloated with all the water and he knew, such a large quantity would make him piss like an elephant. But he wasn’t worried. With his bladder capacity, needing to pee was never an issue. Lady Athena and Malcolm spent the morning in the church and during the lunch hours, she had her servants serve Malcolm with sixty litres of hot barley tea. That was too much liquid going inside his bladder and Malcolm was beginning to get worried if he’d be able to hold it till Lady Athena wanted him to. But with hesitation, he drank down all the tea given to him and hoped it wouldn’t make him want to pee badly. But while Lady Athena was enjoying the desperation Malcolm was facing, another problem was brewing inside the stable of her castle. Oros was a majestic and powerful centaur that Lady Athena had as her pet and her protector. The being though thoughtful and intelligent, was kept in the stable along with the horses. He was gifted to the Lady by a fabled conjuror and would only listen to commands from Athena. Each morning and evening, the lady would take the centaur out of the castle for a piss as the other servants were scared to go even near the fiend. But since the last two days, the lady had completely forgotten about her pet. “Where is my lady? She hasn’t visited me in two days...” the centaur asked a servant nearby who happened to be feeding the horses. “Well she’s busy with a guest” he answered before walking away with a stack of hay in his hands. Oros held the chain around his neck and sighed in dismay before settling down to the ground. Each day, the being was given four hundred and fifty litres of water to drink, which meant, he already had over nine hundred litres in his bladder. But his vessel was huge and Oros knew he could hold longer if needs be, but not much longer. Inside the stone walls of the castle, Malcolm was beginning to feel the first signs of his filling bladder but he was confident he could wait. Athena could see the first signs of a bladder bulge beginning to form in Malcolm’s midriff. She invited him for a walk in the gardens, hoping some movement would help him digest all that liquid quicker. She noticed the man walked a bit weirdly, but then what could she expect from a person containing over two hundred and fifty litres of liquid in his stomach. In the evening, Malcolm was served, fifteen litres of milk along with thirty five more litres of water. The man was trembling at the liquid intake. “My lady, I just wanted to know how long will this challenge last?” Malcolm asked, placing a hand on his rapidly filling bladder. “Until I am sure that you have the biggest bladder, this challenge will go on” Lady Athena smirked. She could see his bladder distinctly bulging over his breeches and she knew he had some serious pressure building up, much to her amusement. Little did Lady Athena know that her day was going to get much busier though. A huge blow of trumpets from the courtyard announced the arrival of Prince Noah to the castle. The Prince had travelled all the way to Lady Athena’s castle far up north to take an account of the law and order in her state. “Very welcome my prince, it is a great honour to have you as our guest” the lady greeted. “I am pleased my lady, could you please show me to my chambers, it has been a long and cold journey and I would like to have some rest” the Prince said. Lady Athena personally showed the Prince to his chambers and once alone the Prince made his way straight to the privy. Though in his mid thirties, the prince was a strong and muscular man who drank plenty of water each day. Since the morning, the prince charming had drunk over two hundred litres of pure water, and a large amount of honey water and lemonade. But unfortunately for the Prince, when he tried to open the large wooden door of his privy, it refused to budge. It was jammed. The Prince thought of telling Lady Athena of the problem but then decided against it, as it was thought to be a matter of great disgrace for a monarch to tell someone about their need to relieve themselves. The Prince went downstairs to have his supper, but much to his annoyance and frustration, the servants poured him mug after mug of hard cold beer. Lady Athena wondered what a big pee the prince would take after all that beer, and decided to feed the same amount to Malcolm who was sitting right next to her at the table. By the time the dinner was done, both Prince Noah and Malcolm had drunk over twenty large mugs of beer, and Lady Athena was pleased to think of how much Malcolm’s bladder would fill over the course of the night. Noah however was absolute about not disclosing his problem to Lady Athena. So the Prince quietly went to bed, hoping to find a solution to his problem the next day.

(Hi everyone! I'm back again with a second attempt at an interactive story! This one has a lot more story though. I'm leaving these open-ended though. I might put certain choices, but mostly it will be all up to you. I know this isn't the place to say it, but try to make your answers and stuff make sense. Hard to work with an answer that wont make sense. If there's a tie in answers I'll decide which one goes. It'll usually be the one that advances the plot more. Thanks for reading this!) The Plot: Saria's life is a big part of this I say.. But the big later on story is...: Saria stumbles upon a mysterious book and gets pulled into an ancient world. The world is facing a big threat so it's up to Saria and her party members to save it. Chapter 1: A terrible night's sleep. The time was 10 PM, Saria laid in her bed trying to fall asleep. Her mind kept drifting from the sound of her parents arguing to the sound of the water running upstairs. She felt the need to pee, but she really didn't want to leave her room with her parents arguing. She was so glad to be moving out soon. The screaming got worse and worse. Her parents used to be happy together... What changed? After an hour or two, she managed to fall asleep, but she woke up at 3:24 AM to a warm wet feeling in between her legs and all over the bed. Saria quickly jumped up, but she couldn't stop herself her pee continued to flow out until she shoved her fingers into her pee-hole. This never has happened before, sure she's used to going to sleep while needing to pee, but it never leaks. Her pajamas are soaked and she doesn't know what to do. Her bed is soaked. She decides to waddle to the bathroom making sure to do it very quietly. Even though she was 19 her parents still hated her being awake late. They would surely punish her for being awake this late. Saria makes it to the bathroom, but the door is locked. She's not sure why, until she glances around the area and sees shattered dishes and scratches on the wall. Saria's mom was hiding herself in the bathroom. Saria sighed and walked back to her room. Their upstairs bathroom was in the middle of being worked on so the door was definitely locked. Saria still had to pee badly. She didn't know what to do. What should Saria do? You guys get to choose what she does. Open-ended. Plot advancers: 1.) Finish peeing in clothes 2.) Try to hold it until morning 3.) Knock on the bathroom door 4. Go pee outside (The plot advancers guarantee the story moves on. Your choices usually will as well. These act as recommendations in case you can't think of anything. I have a lot of lore and decisions planned. I encourage everyone who reads this to vote on something. It'll make the story better and more frequent. That's it.)

Writer's block is a weird thing. On one hand you can't come up with anything meaningful to put down on paper - physical or virtual - but on the other hand it forces your mind to stray and come up with new, sometimes different, ideas. Some of those are really intriguing and end up becoming their own stories. Well, I have an unfinished story on this site and it's been close to a year since I did anything with it. I cannot for the life of me figure out what to do next, and until I do I still want to write. So, in a patch of boredom and inspiration, I've decided to write something else instead! This is intended to be a longer story, so expect parts to come in batches when time permits. It's gonna have lots of diapers and peeing (an outlandish claim for this forum, I know!), and lots of similarly-themed materiel, but the focus is not necessarily on these aspects. Forewarning - if you just want wetting and embarrassment there's a lot to chew through between those parts, but there will be several in every "chapter", guaranteed or your money back. So without further ado, prepare yourself for the sci-fi adventure of a padded lifetime, a look into the mysterious ways of the greatest warriors on Earth (and their obsessive drive that leads to a most curious of unintentional results)! ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER I - The Girls Are Training Naomi's mouth was drier than the deserts beyond the palace, but the same could not be said for her attire. Sweat had been dripping down her sides for what felt like hours as she continued running laps, over and over and over again, and her drenched exercise pants clung to her thighs for dear life. The sun beat down mercilessly, but she still felt a keen kinship with it - it was still kinder to her than Instructor Thembeka. "Naomi!" her teacher snapped angrily from a few hundred yards away. "The King needs his Knights; step it up!" "I serve-" Naomi exhaled. She knew in her heart it wouldn't be heard that far away, and taking as deep a breath as her lungs would allow she forced a shout. "I serve!" She forced her legs to keep running. They felt like they were on fire but she knew they'd be in far more pain if she dared to stop. The Flowering Knights had a godly reputation to uphold and naught but the grandest of efforts would even begin to satisfy its instructors. Until Naomi collapsed she would be in danger. A tingle of anticipation flowed through her veins. She loved that feeling of danger, of pushing her body too far. It was glorious, a struggle! Palesa always sneered at this and called her an endorphin junkie, but Naomi didn't care what the other trainee thought. The Flowering Knights wanted her best? She'd give it to them. At the jumbling of her own footfalls, the girl was reminded of the pressure on her bladder, but immediately shoved this thought aside. As an aspirant Flowering Knight she had one duty: to protect the King and his people, in that order. All else was secondary. That included potty training. Years ago, when a much younger Naomi walked the Earth... Naomi was just a schoolgirl when her first day in the Flowering Knights trainee program began. Her mother was one of the best of these godly individuals, renowned throughout the land as the King's favored Knight - his One-Eyed Bulldog. That made a lot to live up to, even as a young child, but Naomi liked a challenge. There was no one that did not know the name of the Flowering Knights - men feared them, women adored them and the King championed them, but only the greatest of women could join their ranks. For a girl like Naomi there wasn't even a hint of hesitation at being forced by her mother to go for it. Decision or not, she was excited and ready to go. Many people lived their lives searching for meaning, but the Flowering Knights were meaning. Icons, every one! Standing in the gymnasium were the other trainees, girls of similar age but none of whom Naomi was familiar with. None of them looked like much special, just your usual schoolgirls from around the kingdom. She felt the sneering glares from several others, most likely at the fluffy ears atop her head. Naomi had been born with the blessing of Samesmelting, melded with the spirit of a wild creature. Supposedly it would grant her wisdom and strength beyond the limits of her human body, and in exchange the appearance of its features upon her. It wasn't necessarily uncommon, but it still drew the stares of enough people to make anyone feel embarrassed. Naomi was. She felt her fox ears fold back in shame, looking away. She didn't want to make any enemies before her first lesson had even begun, but it was almost unavoidable at this point - the people would do it for her. "Hey fox ears!" one of them sauntered up to her. "Got a name?" "Naomi," came the whispered reply. She was shy, and unfortunately knew where this was going. The loudmouthed girl looked her up and down. "Eww. Can't believe they let you in here without a leash." A pair of students nearby started snickering to themselves, covering their mouths and looking away. Naomi's face flushed crimson. It wasn't the first time she'd heard that kind of taunting but she'd never gotten used to it. A harsh response formed in her mouth but she held it back: confrontation would certainly get her in trouble. Her mother had warned her before the day started: Don't get on the bad side of your teachers, Naomi, the One-Eyed Bulldog had warned. Your peers can hate you all they want, but so long as you stay in the good graces of your instructors you'll be fine. "I'll be fine," Naomi mumbled halfheartedly. It gave her some small semblance of comfort, even in a time such as this. "What was that?!" the bully snapped. She seized Naomi by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. "You? Fine? How about the rest of us? No one said they'd be letting in some animal! You're probably not even house-trained!" A booming voice tore through the room, echoing off the walls. "Trainees, stand!" Every girl immediately froze in place, turning to face the new arrival. It was a rather buff woman, bearing the ornate dress of the Flowering Knights. A lapel pin indicated her as an instructor, and once this was realized the students formed a single-file line. The instructor approached, folding her hands behind her back and pacing up and down the line. "Hmm...I want to say you're a sorry-looking bunch and you'll never make it. That's what my teacher told me when I wore your shoes, but here I am. That alone should be proof that your road can be tread, be it paved with broken glass!" There was a slight pause while this sunk in. "This will hurt, a lot, but you can succeed. I will make sure of it! Every single one of you can become a Flowering Knight." The woman spun suddenly and barked out, "My name is Thombeka! I am your instructor and you will refer to me as such! Now then, who among you knows the creed of the FW?" No one rose their hand and an uncomfortable silence formed. Thombeka's eyes narrowed and looked back and forth for someone to call out, and all at once she pointed. "You! Name!" A girl nearby squeaked in surprise. "Imka!" Thombeka huffed. "Alright Imka, good on you for volunteering. Now then, what is your new creed?" Imka stuttered, starting to say something unintelligible. In that moment, Naomi felt an overwhelming need to act, and she felt herself speaking with newfound confidence: "We serve the King, and the people of his country!" There was an audible swish as Thombeka's head swiveled over. The woman peered and approached with outlandish footsteps until she stood directly over Naomi. "Hmm...name." "Naomi," her confidence vanished. She felt a very small trickle of warmth in her underwear as she leaked, barely catching herself. Her entire body shivered in anticipation, realizing that she had potentially interrupted one of the most important women in all the land. "Ahhhhh," the instructor exhaled, slowly transforming into a chuckle of her own. "The daughter of OEB. I should have figured that the One-Eyed Bulldog would bring up a girl with audacity. Runs in her blood!" Thombeka's grizzled face relaxed as she looked over the rest of the students. "All of you, say it!" "We serve the King, and the people of his country!" The chorus was chaotic and pathetic, and Naomi's ears winced at hearing it. "Together!" Thombeka barked. It took a few more tries, but finally all the girls said it together. "We serve the King, and the people of his country!" Thombeka clapped her hands once. "Better. Make no mistake - you are now a team, part of the sisterhood second in all the land only to the King himself. If you want to uphold that creed then you will work together. You do not have to like one another to do it." The instructor started chuckling sardonically at this. "And until your actions and words endanger your creed, none of your instructors will stop you." Someone raised their hand. Thombeka pointed her out. "Name." "Palesa, Ma'am," came the reply. Naomi didn't need to look to know that voice - the bully that had called her out earlier. She felt her lips purse in frustration. If this was about her Samesmelting... Thombeka folded her arms. "Okay, Palesa - what is your question?" "I need to use the toilet. May I go?" The girl's voice had grown significantly sweeter compared to the exchange with Naomi earlier. "No," Thombeka replied without missing a beat. "You're in training right now." When the student looked confused and horrified, Thombeka sighed in irritation. "Your creed is to protect the King and then his people, in that order. Everything else is of secondary consideration." Palesa stammered. "What does-" "That means," the instructor cut her off. "That your training as an aspirant Flowering Knight is the most important part of your life for the foreseeable future. Training, training! You must become strong like a lion, faster than the wind and sweet as honey! These things will make you an FW and ensure you can uphold your promise to your king!" The woman leaned in closer, a hardened look on her face. "I will make sure you are able to do so. It's my duty now to train the next Flowering Knights and ensure our creed will continue!" She pointed accusingly at Palesa. "Your King is in danger right this moment! Will the enemy wait for you to take a tinkle and calm your embarrassment?" Palesa didn't answer at first, but a glower from Thombeka fixed that. "My duty is to protect the King!" "Correct! So you will ignore the protestations of your body - if you are sore, you will persevere. If you are tired, you will force yourself to continue. If you have to pee, you will hold it or you will go - I do not care, and neither does anyone in the Flowering Knights. But, you will never stop in your promise. Is that clear?" There was dead silence in the room. Naomi heard her heart beating in her eardrums. The truth was, she'd already been exposed to this type of lifestyle, at least partially, by her mother. She'd never fully been potty trained herself, much to her embarrassment. She was usually fine with the flaw but she was certain the other girls would make her life hell for it. Her mother had insisted it was a problem that would solve itself. Naomi didn't believe that in the moment - it sounded more like everyone else would be forced to share her problem instead. Palesa's voice sounded pale, almost sick to her stomach. "I...yes Ma'am." There was a sharp inhale from Thombeka. "There's no place for humiliation and embarrassment if you want to succeed on the field of battle. The sooner its beaten out of your system, the better. If you're worried about making a mess on the floor, then I commend your sense of cleanliness. Ask any of your instructors for help - you're more than welcome to wear diapers if you so choose." Again, silence. Taking that as no-further-questions, Thombeka continued. "Now then - let's start off simple. Jumping jacks, begin!" The instructor immediately started in with the exercise, and without any further input the girls began to follow suit. Oh, that was a mistake. The PT didn't just start, it never stopped - Thombeka kept going, and going, and going and going and going. Soon the trainees were huffing and puffing, gasping for breath and flapping their arms with exhaustion. After countless minutes, Thombeka stopped. "Alright, sit ups. Find a partner and begin. I'll let you know when you're allowed to stop and switch. We start in sixty seconds." The girls did their best to scatter, too tired to debate and be choosy. Somehow still, most found a way to acquire a sit-ups partner before Naomi could ask. Soon it looked like it was down to just her and Palesa. She was about to consign herself to this defeat when someone gently fluffed her foxy ears from behind. "I need a partner still..." someone said meekly. Not recognizing the voice, Naomi turned her head and met herself eye-to-eye with Imka. Feeling a flood of relief, Naomi bobbed her head up and down in agreement. The two assumed the position. Imka offered to start, which Naomi was only too happy to allow. Her limbs still burned, and any chance to rest was welcome, even if that meant keeping her potential friend stabilized so she could sit up and down repeatedly. Small effort was preferable to exhaustive effort. Imka whispered. "Hey, thanks for speaking up for me back there." It took Naomi a moment to realize what the girl meant. "Yeah, anytime!" She did her best to smile, but felt awkward in so doing. There was a gruff noise from nearby: the instructor. "Speak freely amongst yourselves, girls: your attempts to hide your words irritates my ears. You will know when I demand your silence." The two girls looked at one another before giggling a bit. It wasn't much, but it was the start of a friendship, and that was good enough for Naomi. Finally, she had one person that seemed decent she could rely on. It was just under ten minutes later before they were given the go-ahead to switch. Imka was breathing heavily and delighted to have an opportunity to tag out. Soon Naomi found herself crunching. She tried to focus and steady her breathing, synchronizing with her ups and downs until she settled in on a rhythm. Music was a pattern of life and it would help her here. If the last jaunt was any indication it would be at least five or ten minutes until she could catch a break. Thirteen minutes after, Naomi began to realize the importance of volunteering to go first, even when exhausted. She sucked air through her teeth, noticeably slower than before, as the droning lecture of her instructor continued. "You can go slower if that's all you can do, but you will not stop. Not yet!" As Naomi crashed onto her back once more she heard a trickling sound from her left, and one of her ears twisted on instinct to get a better listen. It sounded like water being poured nearby, but she remembered her predicament and sat back up instead of focusing. Getting singled out by Thombeka would- "Eek!" someone to her left yelped, and there was a scuffling noise. The instructor was on them in a moment as everyone sat up to look. Palesa lay on her back, doing her best to cover her shorts with both hands as a small puddle slowly spread out from under her. The poor girl's exercise partner was on her rear, scooting backwards to outrun the wet danger. Thombeka roared: "Name!" "Palesa!" "Noxolo!" The instructor but her hands to her hips. "Why did you stop?" When no one answered, she continued. "Oh no, your comrade wet herself and your shins might get dampened. The King is in danger and you swore to protect him! What do you do?!" "We serve the King," both girls replied shakily, and Noxolo returned to her partner's side. Soon they were all back to doing situps like nothing had happened, and every girl present began to fully understand that magnitude of what their oath not only meant, but what it meant to take it. Hours later they were finally allowed to cease exercises for the day. Naomi's entire body was cramped and protesting any movement, and all her peers were too tired to argue, poke fun or commit any form of jesting beyond necessary verbal exchange. They were physically removed of all energy over the course of an afternoon, of such intensity there was not a single girl that survived the initiation with dry pants - endless PT combined with the necessity of hydration was a simple equation that led to the same point every time. Naomi had fallen victim during a sprint. She'd won the race, but left a trail of shame behind her, and part of her fluffy tail had gotten damp along with it. Mercifully, everyone was too tired to jeer even by that point, and no one else fared any better. By the time they'd retired to the communal barracks they were all in the same boat - sweaty, panting and stinking of wet pants. No one spoke as they showered off and switched to proper uniforms - knee-high skirts and long blouses - before sauntering off to the dining hall. The meal prepared was bountiful, served by FW's sporting flowing maid's dresses that bowed courteously at every turn. Fried pork, steamed vegetables, ice-cold milk and more! It was a veritable feast that washed away all the pain of the day's efforts, and by the time it was over the girls were seemingly back to normal, and chatted amongst themselves in high spirits, delighted at the turn of events. Even through the friendly surprise, Naomi began to see cliques forming, something her mother had also warned her about. Imka was thus far the only one that had opened up to Naomi, and she considered the softspoken girl to be a true friend. At least so far. Palesa was shaping up to be the most problematic element, and watching the bully girl's charisma at work filled Naomi with uncertainty and concern for the coming days. Unfortunately, being the first to have a potty accident hadn't done as much damage to Palesa's image as Naomi had hoped. It wasn't helping, but all the girls were in the same place - peeing your pants was no longer just an action of shame. It was a promise. The hours went by as the next phase of their day came and went. Book studies on a variety of subjects, including history, tactics, literature of heroes long since passed and a deeper understanding of the country and its people. Some of the girls started to doze off and were rewarded with a stern snap from instructor Nobantu. The older woman was of much more agreeable manner than Thombeka, but the slightest hint of disinterest in her teaching would set her off like a firecracker. As such, Naomi rapidly learned not to let her mind wander. She only fell asleep once during the whole stint, giving herself a nosebleed when her face smacked into her desk. Cleverly, she passed this off as an effort to keep herself awake, which the teacher seemed to accept. The only further distraction was the fidgeting of a student at her desk here and there, and with blessed hearing Naomi was able to hear the telltale hissing of her colleagues failing to hold on from time to time. Every time it happened her face reddened, knowing that it could just as easily be her. By the time they were done they were uninterested in the allotted one hour of personal time. Unsurprisingly, most simply went to their beds and collapsed. However, for Naomi, there was something important to be done. She perused the halls, walking around the long and grandiose architecture before finding the library. "You're up late," Nobantu's genteel voice spooked her. Naomi's hair stood on end and she felt another small leak. The girl spun about and bowed. "I'm sorry, instructor. I just...had something I needed to ask." "Go on, then," the older woman nodded lightly. Just say it, Naomi. The King is in peril, and you must act, not hesitate. "I was just wondering if I could get something to wear for nighttime." Nobantu didn't respond, watching expectantly. Naomi tried again. "You know, for uhm..." Again, the instructor refused to acknowledge this. She looked on, waiting for a direct and proper response. It took a few more seconds and a hearty breath for Naomi to work up the courage to say it out loud. "I need to wear diapers at night so I do not wet the bed." "Better," Nobantu finally acknowledged the girl's request. "Was that so hard?" Naomi's ears flattened again. It was one thing to be denied access to the bathroom, it would be another to wake up in damp sheets, especially when all her peers would be sleeping in the same room. They were still learning about one another, and that particular situation was something she didn't want to be known for. Nobantu led the girl down the hallway and back the way she came. They entered the medical office, a deceptively spacious room stocked full of various medicines in shelves and lockboxes. In the far corner, beyond the cots and medical machinery the finest minds in the country could develop were a few closets. When Nobantu opened one, Naomi had to stifle a gasp. It was full of diapers, packages upon packages stocked as close to one another as possible. The instructor grabbed one and passed it to her nonchalantly. "There's ten there - not very absorbent, but they're slim and discrete, and fit like underwear - they'll keep you comforted and protected until the morning if you'd like." Naomi didn't wish to be disrespectful, but felt compelled to speak up. "I thank you, but I don't need all of these. Just one should suffi-" "You're not special: lots of trainees need or request them. Your call - none of the instructors care about your continence; only your capabilities." Nobantu turned about and started to leave. "The door's always open - help yourself or not." Naomi only needed a few seconds to mull her options over. Dutifully closing the cabinet, she clutched the package of diapers close to her chest and ran back to her room. The realization that anyone in the facility could walk into her carrying such a thing gave her renewed energy and purpose, if only for long enough to reach the safety of confinement. But safety was a strange word. Sure, Naomi was now removed from the instructors and staff of the Flowering Knights, but now she was in the proverbial lion's den that was her immediate peers. Several sideways glances appeared when she entered, but most looked away. Despite being partially covered by her arms they all knew damn well what the package was, what it was for and the leering potential that it would be them the next night, or the night after. Palesa had no reservations about capitalizing on this. "Of course you'd be the first one to give up," the girl sneered, and a few others joined in on the passive-aggressive taunting. Naomi hugged the package tighter and moved to her own bed, doing her best to ignore it. Lashing out wouldn't solve anything right now and she was too tired to get into it. "Lay off, Palesa," Imka mumbled from nearby. "You were the first to fall." Several girls harumphed in agreement and the bully backed down with a, "whatever", going back to reading her book. Naomi prayed a silent thanks to her friend's insistence. True to the instructor's word these were discrete. Shaped like panties but with extra padding, they were easy to slip into and hide underneath pants or a skirt or anything else. Naomi breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a strange comfort from the soft padding that hugged her like a fluffy cloud. It was embarrassing, but so long as everyone else was embarrassed she decided she could deal with it. Soon the girl had forgotten all about her predicament, her training, the bullying and the friendship she'd begun, settling into the hazy lines of the book in her hands, drifting off to sleep at some time unknown. The present day... "Step it up!" Naomi hissed to herself, forcing her legs to pump harder and faster. She accelerated down the racetrack, feeling the wind whipping across her sweat-soaked body and pants as she now made a full and concerted effort. It was a glorious feeling, and for a few dozen meters more she forgot all about the pain in her body. She was strong and free, and that was what mattered. As Naomi crossed the finish line Thembeka blew a whistle. "That's enough! Naomi leads by two and a half laps. Take fifteen to hydrate and get ready for the next exercise." "We serve!" came the chorus from all over the track. Naomi slowed her breathing and bent down, forcing her heart to slow down as her hands made it atop her knees. Standing was important, and the stretching helped ease her aches, but in trade she felt a familiar warmth start to puddle in her padded underwear. Sighing, she let the feeling wash over her - she had done her best and she had won, and that was all that mattered. Anyone that thought otherwise was wrong and had lost. Having a soggy diaper was a small price to pay for victory.

Prologue - Morning Introductions Features: Pull-ups, bedwetting "My beautiful girl. All grown up and ready to fight the world. Heading out so young, just like your father." Sniffling noises followed the sentence as the mother watched her daughter kneel down and begin tying laces and threads together. Unable to control her nose the mother's tears started to run. "Mom! It's not like I'll be gone forever." Pulling tight on the threads Katie exhaled, satisfied that the boots would not be sliding off anytime soon. Standing back up she tugged at the bracers she had equiped. Originally they had belonged to her father. As such, no matter how hard she tried tightening them it just did not feel comfortable. "Don't be late for the ceremony." The words from her mother became croaky as she tried hard not to keep crying... unsuccessfully. Smirking, Katie gave up with the adjustments. Stepping a few paces to her side she instead tried to get a view of herself in the family mirror in the center of the hallway. She had not always liked her looks. Many times through her childhood did she recall becoming upset at something with her appearance. Parental love did a lot to comfort her alongside the odd hearsay of other town kids suffering similarly. It was different now. She had grown up and was ready to face the world. Opposite Katie stood her image. Short blonde hair that matched her bright blue eyes. Originally she had flowing brown hair but after several protests her family had saved up funds to change this for good. Dressing for the occasion she had adopted a casual outfit - A plain white blouse covered her upper body and arms. Awkwardly sized bracers hung at the bottom of her arms affording some meager protection. Ontop of the blouse was a brown leather corset that her mother had assisted in her securing. Matching the theme were her new black leather pants. It had taken Katie many months of local working and errand-running to afford them, something she instantly fell in love with knowing what type of future awaited her. Pairing with the pants were her old boots. Unlike the bracers which belonged to her father the boots belonged to her mother. 'Built to last' was the phrase they often laughed over, for aside from lace replacements the shoes were flawless. Still watching her reflection Katie bended her legs one after the other. Pleased that the boots were secured and the pants stuck to her skin she looked up. For the first time in a long while she smiled to herself. Inside she could only describe it as a door closing - the goodbye to her child self. Turning around to her mother she reached out for a hug. Following in her mothers steps she stood at a mere 5' 2" - Tiny in comparison to the father and husband who was well over 6 feet tall. Embracing for a moment Katie gently let her mother know it was enough. Stepping backwards she immediately went back to wiping her eyes and continuing with her happy crying. "I've prepared your bag for you." Leading Katie back towards the kitchen the soon to be adventurer saw the haversack on the wooden table. Besides it lay dried bread on a towel with some fruit and a spare waterskin. While the family weren't struggling day to day with their wealth Katie knew that the efforts her mother had gone to must have taken a bit of her own savings. "Thanks, Mom. I.. I promise to visit and tell you of all the stories." Her mother simply nodded and kept wiping her eyes as she finally succeeded in settling down. Approaching the bag Katie grabbed the supplies and opened them up the front, pushing the insides of the front pouch further outwards as she managed to make space for the food. As she opened up the main section of the bag her hands paused causing the waterskin to slide back onto the table. Heat soon reached her face as she gingerly reached forward to grab at the object laying closest to the bag opening. It was undeniable. "Uh.. M-Mom?" Still red-faced Katie pulled out the top object, frowning as she spied a further two underneath it. Turning around she clutched the fluffy cotton garment. "Why are these in h-here?" Looking down at her own feet as she spoke, Katie cringing as her voice broke. "Oh darling. It's just to help you." Warm hands clapsed around her own. Refusing the eye contact the hands instead glided around Katie's, one removing the garment she held and the gripping her spare hand hard. "Don't get upset. Mothers know what is best. Nobody else need know, flower." Like musical notes the words reached deep. The warm hands of her mother pushed against her chin softly, urging it to look back upwards. Hesitating for a moment Katie returned the look as the hands then brushed against her face. "Our secret." A single kiss was planted on her cheek. She gulped once, nodding. Loath to admit it deep down she knew her mother was correct. Since she had hit her teenage years she had also been cursed with the need for such garments. 'Pull-ups', the children and mothers called them. Normally they were intended for children not yet trained to use a pot or privy. Unfortunately for Katie, such a feat was impossible mid sleep. Instead she had to put her trust in the pull-ups she wore to spare her dignity from a wet bed - the garments would instead absorb her sleeping wet like a weird leech. The fact her ailment was not constant meant there were times Katie would wear the pull-up and spare it in the night both to a mixture of relief and frustration. "I should go. If I miss the ceremony I have to wait a whole month." Stroking the side of her cheek Katie watched her mother put the garment back into her bag. Embarrassed as she was she was also grateful to be with only her... she was not sure how she would respond if her father knew she wasn't as grown up as she looked. Sighing deeply she stepped forward and pulled the bag over her shoulder. Walking to the door at the front of the house she turned one last time to her mother. A teary smile returned her way as she placed a hand over her heart. Mouthing the words 'I love you' Katie returned the sentiment and left her home quickly for worry of coming down emotionally like her mother. Taking a deep breath in her eyes scanned the town. Along the row of houses she could see several families stood at their doorways, contrasting to the relatively empty streets. The odd few people she saw walking towards the town hall were easily identified - Townsfolk of similar age to herself. Every one of them would be heading to the hall for the ceremony where after a night of celebrations they would be on their way into adult life as was tradition. Checking to her left and right the same scene repeated - Goodbyes, cheers and laughter. Most of the people would likely return home to their families in the evening - Katie had resorted to leaving immediately to get her head start. Many of the people around her would likely join trading or crafts professions. Some of the more athletic could find work in the militia... but she knew of none like herself who would be leaving for a long time. Leaving the steps of her home she joined into the convoy of young adults, contemplating what lay ahead. -- After an hour Katie found herself inside the hall. Smiling and nodding to friendly faces as she got herself into position near the back wall her eyes bounced across too many souls to remember. What she had not expected was how quick the ceremony would be. Struggling to see the stage from the back of the room she only heard muffled whispers about a man stepping up to address them. Too far away and without any aid to boosting his voice she struggled to hear him clearly though the words he spoke had a positive impact. The men and women up front started cheering like their families had on the way to the ceremony Taking the opportunity as soon as the speech was finished Katie had left, hoping the early departure would not draw a negative image to herself. Plans had already been made to venture south to a new town, not just to experience new sights but to assist the locals. Every adventurer had their story and rise to fame. Already equipped with her gear the only thing she had lacked was a weapon, something that was easily fixed with a visit to the armoury shop on her way out the town. Several gold pieces down but now armed with a steel blade she left. After following the road for nearly seven hours with little time spent on breaks unless nature called she had arrived in the town she was aiming for. Typical for someone of her occupation she had bee-lined straight towards the closest tavern, pleased to find it in a lively shape. Blue eyes met a variety of individuals each merry in their own way. After ordering a meal and her first ever acoholic beverage the girl aimed for a secluded corner to relax. Before such delights could be delivered, however, the young adventurer was assaulted by homesickness. Miles from home, alone and on a daring journey was all it took for a little fear to set in. Unnerved by the feeling Katie mumbled their thanks and made quick work of the meal. A small tip secured the girl a room for the night to hide away from the worries of the world. Hurrying upstairs the girl rushed into the available room and observed the appearance and features. First her eyes looked to the window, noting that it was high up and could be a struggle to reach if she needed to. Next was the bed, straw and plain. A small rug lay on the wooden floor panels with the edges stuck under the bed legs. A tiny stool and table were upsidedown on the other side of the room along with a single lamp for light, unlit of course. 'It's just nasty thoughts. It's a big day and this is all so very new.' Thinking the words bluffed her into a sense of confidence. Giving the room a deep inspection and finding no causes of concern the key was finally shoved in to the lock to rest away the stress of travel. Momentarily relieved from the sickness trying to lull her homewards she settled down next to the straw bed, carefully opening the backpack. Redness returned once more as her hands reached for the pull-up at the top of the bag. A glance back to the window secured her peace of mind that nobody would be snooping on her. Despite the privacy a sense of urgency swept over her to finish the tasks as soon as possible. With speed laces were undone and clothing was pulled off. In moments the garment was pulled up and a night gown was placed overhead. Still slightly distressed the Warrior crawled into the bed, burying themselves away for the night. -- A single bang shook her from her slumber to full alertness. Quick reflexes combated sleepiness to get her blurred eyes scanning the room. Satisfied there were no shadowy forms hiding in the corners a deep exhale fought to calm the panicked heart. An unfamiliar room became more outlined hands rubbed their eyes. Unmoving, steadiness returned to the girl who lay on the bed. Little light was coming through the window though a bright glow was near the underneath of the door - The lamp in the hallway was lit. Shuffling into an upright position she began the next steps of waking up. The tip of her finger reached under the nightgown to assess how well she had survived the night. Nail met spongey fabric. A few more testing prods confirmed the worst in that once more she had failed. Sighing with disappointment Katie carefully lifted the blanket cover to check the rest of her bed. Seeing no signs of damage it confirmed that the garment had held. Huffing yet again she climbed out of the bedding to dress herself properly for the day. Reaching for the bag the girl paused. Realization hit that they were in a new place. Unlike the procedure at home when this happened, this was a whole new place. Worry spread rapidly throughout her body. 'How do I even get rid of this?'