Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Or sign in with one of these services

Sign Up
Search In
  • More options...
Find results that contain...
Find results in...

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'fantasy'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome!
  • Omorashi
    • Omorashi general
    • Wetting experiences
    • Artwork and doujinshi
    • Fiction and fanfiction
    • Video links and uploads
  • Padded / Omutsu
    • Omutsu general
    • Padded experiences
    • Artwork and doujinshi
    • Fiction and fanfiction
    • Video links and uploads
  • General
    • Off-topic discussion
    • Forum games
    • Guidance and counseling
  • RolePlaying
    • Roleplaying realm

Categories

  • OmoOrg Exclusives
    • WesternWets Comics
    • Biku Comics
  • JAV Collections
  • Wetting Videos
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • Messing Videos
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • Diapers & Ageplay (Wetting)
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • Diapers & Ageplay (Messing)
    • Female
    • Male
    • Transgender (MtF)
    • Transgender (FtM)
  • Doujinshi, Eroge and Hentai
    • Anime / Hentai
    • Doujinshi Archives
    • Artwork and CG Sets
    • Visual Novels
    • RPGs

Blogs

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

Product Groups

  • Premium Subscriptions
  • Advertising

Categories

  • Omorashi Related
  • General kinks
  • Gender and appearance
  • Miscellaneous

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


FurAffinity


Twitter


Website URL


My pronouns are..


I'm into..

Found 74 results

  1. This story was up before, or rather two parts of it were. While I was finishing the third part I decided instead to remove it and release it as a full story once the third was finished. So enjoy! Did I also mention I have a thing if you feel like supporting me? https://ko-fi.com/callumdoesathing Nidley: A Night At The Theatre Standing before the small pocket mirror, which to the small forest Kniv, was enough for her, Nidley huffed a grouchy sigh. Beside her, hanging from a small hook, was a long white gown that her Master had procured for the evening. Balkanan Knivs were strange creatures when it comes to vanity. They did not care for clothes, nor did they have any shame in displaying their bodies, but sadly humans did not see it the same way. “Why can’t I just go without anything on?” She huffed, slouching in front of the mirror, a moody sour glare as she pulled down the dress from its peg. “Because if you’re going to mingle among the Capital, you need to show some decency. We’re not in Guilden, we’re in the city of Kings!” Sidmere declared proudly, clenching his fist. “Now enough with the huffing and get your gown on.” She had tried to protest, but her Master would have none of it. Before long, Nidley was throwing the white gown over herself and struggling to find a hole to pop her head out of. “But I’m not a human! I shouldn’t have to wear these fancy-pants clothes! Kniv’s don’t wear clothes!” Though they resemble humans in appearance, Kniv’s have long impish tails and bright colourful wings like a butterfly. In looks, Nidley did not look much different than an average girl; Her wide hazelnut eyes shone in the light and she often made a habit of wrinkling her small, button nose. But other than her wings and her tail, she did not draw much attention to herself. She was no taller than a glass, no wider than a bottle, and she was a colourful pink. Her assets were small and did nothing to draw a leering gaze toward her. Her breasts were small, her backside ample and perfectly rounded and her legs were slender, but the more personal features of her body were concealed by a small dark patch that many Knivs were born with. Nature’s loin-cloth, as many of her tribe would jokingly call it - a little patch of black that covered her Knivhood, as well as her chest, not that Nidley had much to cover there. She'd always been a little lacking in her maidenly assets. With the turn of summer, her hair had turned a dark, burning red. All Knivs, being so intertwined with nature, underwent this change; their colours moved with the seasons, much like a tree. During winter, she’d go pale and her hair would be ice blue. Now, after the passing of spring, her skin was lightly tanned. Tonight was a special night, one that Nidley’s master had been eagerly counting down the days to. He had been lucky to acquire tickets for a show that was playing in the Capital, and Nidley, who was curious to see a play, had begged her Master to take her along with him. And he agreed. Nidley slipped into her shoes and brushed her hair until it was long and straight. A curtain of red covered her face and Nidley grinned, her fangs on show. “Master look, just like you showed me!” She swept her hair back and with her magic, wove a clip that would hold her hair. Looking ready, she flew up above her changing area, spinning around and watching the bottom of her white gown twirl. “How do I look, Master?” “Like you’re ready for a night at the theatre.” He chuckled to himself and straightened out his own jacket, fiddling with the ruffles of his sleeves. “How are you enjoying that gown? It was hard to find a tailor who could make a dress to fit a Kniv.” “I don’t like it.” She proclaimed bluntly, though proudly displaying her fangs over a grin. “Being naked and free is much more comfortable! But I’ll tolerate it for one night because Master got it for me!” She smiled warmly, until she felt the fabric of her knickers nestling between her buttcheeks. “Gah! No wonder you humans are always so crabby.” She lifted her dress and span around, revealing her butt to Sidmere. “Why on earth do you wear these horrible things!?” Sidmere leant forward and straightened his black hair in the mirror. “They’re not so bad, you’re just not used to wearing them.” He replied. That was not a sufficient answer for Nidley. She wiggled her backside, trying her hardest to get the wrap of cloth unstuck from between her cheeks. When that didn’t work she cried out, hissed, and buried her hands down her knickers, clawing at them until she could wedge them out from between her butt. “It feels like my butt is eating them!” She yelped. “Ooh~” Her yelps became a pleasant sigh as she again relieved herself of the tight feeling between her cheeks. “That’s it, get all your frustrations out now.” Sidmere jested as he fastened the buttons of his cummerbund. The pair bickered, as they often did, for a short while longer while Sidmere got himself ready. Once he was dressed in his evening jacket, his hair was straightened and brushed back, and the fragrance of foreign perfume practically dripped from his figure, they were ready to head out. “A spritz before we leave, Nidley?” He bent down, holding the perfume up to the Kniv. “Sure!” She accepted with a jubilant grin, her tail wafting side-to-side. She hopped from the table onto Sidmere’s shoulder and before she could settle down, was squirted by the bottle. The heavy cloud of thick, sweet spray caused the little Kniv to sneeze, her senses overwhelmed by the foreign fragrance. “Okay then.” Sidmere turned to admire himself one last time in the mirror. “Let us be on our way.” It was a warm summer evening in Eserith. Nidley rode atop Sidmere’s as they ventured out into the Capital. The tall buildings and long streets, populated by all manners of people were easy grounds for a Kniv to get lost. Though she preferred to spread her own wings and fly, in the cities, she did well not to stray far from her Master, always atop his shoulder and never venturing off on her own. Human life was strange for the little Kniv, though she had lived among them for a few months she didn’t understand their desire for large grandiose buildings or long streets of finely polished stone that ran for miles. She was used to nature, to trees, her pathways being branches and her shelter being leaves, but she found amazement in their unnatural design. As well as the strange technology they had harnessed. As they walked along the path, the street lights came to life with a quiet hum, lighting the way as night loomed. They walked out into the main streets and gathered among a crowd of people. Nidley watched all around her as people passed, all dressed in their exquisite attire just like her Master; black evening jackets, ruffled sleeves and the distinct reek of fancy perfume. Amidst all the excitement of the crowd, Nidley noticed something out of the corner of her eye. “Master! Look!” She yelled, clambering over his shoulders and hanging from his sleeve. “Look over there!” She pointed to two girls in a side-alley, perched down with their dresses hiked up, revealing their bare backsides. “Those two girls over there are doing dirty things!” “Nidley!” Sidmere hissed, picking the Kniv up by her tail and sitting her back on his shoulder. “It’s impolite to stare. Especially when...” His cheeks started to glow as he cleared his throat. “Do not stare. Understood?” The Kniv grinned, baring her fangs. “But I thought we weren’t allowed to do dirty deeds outside!” They ventured along the streets, chattering, chasing, and conversing as they made their way to the large white building at the top of the hill. “Is that the theatre, Master?” Nidley directed her tail toward the building. “Indeed it is.” Said Sidmere. “The King’s Hall - The finest theatre in all of Eserith.” The large white building on the hill stood as high as the sky, atop it a white dome made of polished glass. The grandest sight in an already beautiful city. The whole building was illuminated with lights and illusions glimmering from the stone, drawing all eyes to its majesty against the starry night sky. For Nidley, it conjured thoughts of the moon, a large beacon of light that blotted out any and all darkness. “It’s so pretty~” She said with starry eyes. “That’s where we’re going, right?” With a proud grin, Sidmere nodded. He did not bother to ruin the magic with words. They journeyed through the gates, and only from there did the Kniv’s interest grow. In the cold night, illusions danced in the air above; a large dragon flew overhead, it’s wings wafting could be felt as if it was there, then two knights exchanging fighting blows with their swords, purple sparks of magical energy raining down with each clash. It was magical, as if the very air was a theatrical performance itself. She had been captivated by the illusions above; so much so that she had not noticed they were already at the entrance to the theatre. The crowd had grown, the courtyard bulged with the city’s aristocracy and many had taken interest in Nidley. Conversations were dropped and eyes were cast to the Kniv riding among one man’s shoulders. Though, Nidley had not noticed, her attention was still on the glowing lights surrounding the hall. She had to lean back to see them, and beneath this large building, Nidley truly felt small. “Now, Nidley, I know this is your first time attending a show. I must make it clear that once we are in the show, you are to remain quiet. It is frowned upon to disturb a performance so once we are in there - a vow of silence, understood?” “Understood, Master!” Nidley, using her illusionary magic, created a zipper over her mouth and pretended to zip it shut, throwing away the key. It vanished in a puff of purple smoke. Her Master smiled and gave her an accepting nod. “Excellent. With that said, what do you say to dinner before the show?” The Kniv leapt up, tail swaying with excitement. She had not eaten since breakfast, deliberately waiting until tonight to sample the finest of human food. “Absolutely!” After handing over their tickets, and receiving a queer stare from the boy taking them, the pair proceeded into the hall. Sidmere strolled past the young man in the booth, who continued to stare at the little oddity perched on his shoulder. As they passed, Nidley looked the boy dead in his eyes and hissed, baring her sharp fangs. The young man turned pale as he witnessed the sight of her tiny plum-chompers. They were only good for chewing through soft food, but his pale visage made it obvious he did not know that. “That’ll teach you to stare~” Nidley giggled and waved goodbye to the young man. He said nothing, standing still, as pale as snow, grasping his apron. Inside the hall, the air was thick with the smell of tobacco. Nidley recognized it - the smell of sophistication as she’d heard many say. Though to her it was nothing more than the smell of vile smoke. The thick, fog-like air was too much for the little Kniv and she sneezed, but that did not stifle her curiosity. She watched from Sidmere’s shoulder, eyes gleaming, rushing to take everything in. They pushed their way through the crowds, through the cloud of smoke and booming echoes of conversation. Nidley noticed that no person was without a glass, or two of wine or without a smoking pipe. A jolly old man dressed in a long black dress jacket told a joke and slapped his knee, conjuring up rousing laughter from his friends. On the other side of the crowd, the overwhelming smell of tobacco faded and in its stead Nidley could smell the scrumptious aroma of an evening banquet. Meat, vegetables, something sweet that she could not tell the taste but it was on the tip of her tongue. It was all there. The Kniv licked her lips and after a rumble from her stomach, spurred her Master on toward the delightful aroma. The dining hall proved to be sanctuary from the festivities occurring in the main hall. Families and friends sat, sipping soup and indulging in some pre-show refreshments. “Ooh, I see it!” Nidley sniffed at the air and pointed over to a large wooden table at the rear of the room, where a large delightful spread had been set. Nidley quickly found herself the centre of attention once again; scores of people looked up from their bowls to examine the strange little creature. She found their glances curious; was it so interesting that a Kniv was sat upon a mans shoulder? “Master,” Nidley whispered, tugging on Sidmere’s shoulder, “everybody is looking at us again.” “Of course they are. Kniv’s are a rare sight in Eserith.” He calmly replied. “So they all just want to look at me?” She huffed. “That seems kind of boring.” And then an idea. Nidley stood up and spread her wings. “Then I better give them a reason to stare!” She cackled and leapt from her Master’s shoulder. Spreading her wings, Nidley took flight and sped off toward the buffet, soaring through the smokey air, whizzing past the heads of the people who’d stopped to stare at her. “Come on, Master!” She turned over, flying backwards, and cheered to Sidmere. “Last one to the buffet is a BIG STINKY LOSER!” She blared, pointing her tail to the large table behind them. She flew over the buffet table, looking down at the treats on display with wide, hungry eyes. The smell was wondrous, a true feast for the senses. From above, Nidley spied roast ox, lightly seared, spiced pork with a small ring of fruit, buttered roast potatoes and a silver tray of steamed vegetables stewing in a juice of herbs and spices. It was all too much, the little Kniv couldn’t contain herself. Using her own illusionary magic, she wove a plate from magical energy, dived down into the banquet and began eagerly picking at the potatoes and vegetables with a skewer wrapped around her tail. Sidmere approached through the people gathered around the banquet table, in part for the feast and part to watch Nidley pick her food. He looked less than amused, his hands behind his back and his eyes wide, nostrils flaring. “Oh hi, Master!” Nidley smiled like nothing was amiss, clutching a plate of vegetables and a skewer of meat wrapped around her tail. Her Master sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose and reluctantly wove a plate for himself with his own magic. “You love to make an introduction, don’t you?” He said with words that had lost all meaning. “Isn’t this what Theatre is all about?” Nidley giggled as she pierced a carrot with a skewer. He didn’t answer. The pair filled their plates in silence. Though Sidmere kept some dignity about himself and prepared only a small dinner, Nidley had skewered as much of the veg as she could. They found a table, away from the gawking crowds and settled for dinner. After they had finished eating, Sidmere pushed his empty plate away and rose to his feet, dabbing his chin with a napkin. “I’m going to get a glass of wine. Would you care for one, Nidley?” “Wine?” The Kniv tilted her head. “Oh! That’s the dizzy juice, right?” The words were more than enough for her to stick out her tongue and grimace. “Ugh, no! It tastes like butt and makes me go all fuzzy!” She flew up and glanced over his shoulder toward the bar. “Ooh! It’s one of those places! Like a fancy tavern! See if they have juice! The tasty kind, the one with all the berries!” “Of course.” Sidmere nodded. He removed his long black coat and wandered over toward the bar, leaving Nidley to sit and pick the debris from her teeth with the point of her tail. “I made sure to get the smallest glass.” He told her upon returning, a tiny glass of dark purple juice in his hand. In the other he carried a glass of white sparkling wine. “Ooh~ Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” Whether it was all that horrid tobacco smoke, or the well salted meat Nidley couldn’t tell, but she had conjured a raging thirst. “I’m parched~” Her Master sat the glass down beside her, and desperate to soothe that raging first, Nidley flew up to the rim of the glass, eager for that first cool sip. “Now, Nidley, make sure not to drink too much.” Sidmere warned her. But it was too late. Already the little Kniv had clapped her hands together, woven a straw, and was slurping down the glass of juice as if it was the nectar of life. It was delicious, ice-cold, and just what she needed for her parched lips. Her loud slurps rang rudely around the hall as she sucked away at the straw, gulping down everything until there was not a single drop left. “Pwah!” The Kniv sighed, following it up with a loud belch. “That hit the spot!” Sidmere could only look at the empty glass in disbelief. It was half of Nidley’s height, and she had downed the drink like it was nothing. “You are finished then?” He asked, knowing her answer, but being polite. “Yep!” She replied, wiping the juice from her lips. “What do we do now, Master!?” She leapt up, hopping on her feet with excitement. Sidmere finished his wine, sat the glass atop the table and gestured for the Kniv to sit atop his shoulder. “I suppose we should get to our seats. The show will be starting soon.” As Nidley sat down, he looked over his shoulder, and quietly asked. “You remember what I mentioned outside of the Theatre, correct?” “Uh-huh!” Again Nidley wove a zipper over her mouth and pretended to throw away the key. “Not a peep!” “Excellent.” Sidmere returned a proud smile. “Then let us be on our way.” The theatre was enormous, the ceiling reaching up so high she could hardly see all the way up. On both sides of the chamber were balconies, decorated by columns and curtains. She could only imagine the view from them. “Oh wow!” Nidley crooned, rolling onto her back and hanging from her Master’s shoulder, looking up like she could see the very heavens above. The whole room was bright red and trimmed with gold, and at the front of it all stood a tall wooden stage. She couldn’t see much, a large curtain covered most of it, but beneath Nidley could see feet rushing around behind it. Sidmere walked to their seats with the Kniv perched on his shoulder. The whole time Nidley scurried on his shoulders rushing to take in everything of the majestic hall. As they took their seats, Nidley looked around as the other people too took their seats. Suddenly, she felt a cold shiver, and a mild discomfort between her legs. “Master? Is there…” Before she could say another word, Nidley watched a swarm of people entering the hall. She grew nervous seeing a crowd of people that she could easily get lost among. “You know what - nevermind.” “Is something troubling you?” Sidmere raised an eyebrow. “If there is best you say it now.” “It’s fine.” She waved it off and sat down atop his shoulder. “It’s not too bad.” She whispered to herself. The crowds entered and the theatre filled up fast. Before long every seat was taken and the roars of conversation echoed to the high ceilings. There were discussions and speculations among people around her - who would be the stand out actor? Would this be as good as the performance they saw the week before? - things of that nature. That all changed shortly after, as the theatre lights dimmed and the conversations became nought more than murmurs. The only light left burning was right above the stage, drawing everybody’s attention to it. “GOOD EVENING, ONE AND ALL!” A tremendous voice boomed through the chamber. “I HOPE YOU ARE ALL SITTING COMFORTABLY FOR TONIGHT’S PERFORMANCE.” Finally, this was it - The moment Nidley had been waiting for. Her first live performance. For the first twenty minutes, as the pompous men on the stage introduced themselves and the story that they would be telling, Nidley sat as quiet as a mouse atop her Master’s shoulder. Every word, every half-witted joke that conjured a chuckle or two, and every gag, she listened to, her legs crossed and her head resting in her hands. Everything was fine, but as the play went on, her thoughts slowly began to stir and by the twentieth minute, the little Kniv had lost any focus she previously had on watching the antics on the stage. Instead, she was whisked away by thoughts of water stirring inside her, rocking her stomach and finally calling out with a quivering between her legs. Her mind had wandered down to her bladder, now that all the juice that she had slurped down before the show was settling in her lower tummy, finding a comfortable place between her thighs. A small-sized cup for a human was still a fair-sized cup for her, and Nidley could quickly feel herself filling. I shouldn’t have drunk all that juice! She thought to herself regretfully. As they say in the Knivish tongue, the young Kniv was feeling the urge to “Water the plants!” The crowd erupted in audible laughter as a rotund maiden’s skirt split, much to the dismay of the two actors beside her. Nidley paid it no mind as she was drawn to her own embarrassing issue; one that if she couldn’t relieve herself of would be much more humiliating than a tear down her dress. For now, she had no choice but to endure it. She could wait until intermission. For now she just had to make herself comfortable and avoid drawing any attention to herself. She wiggled herself along Sidmere’s shoulder and cozied up beside his ear. She wrapped her legs together, tightening them, the feeling of moving her muscles stirring her bladder and shaking her, making the Kniv grimace as each jiggle of her thighs brought the desires of her bladder to the front of her mind. From all of her wiggling, her bladder retaliated, rocking her with a wave of desperation and sending a wave of sudden discomfort shooting through her body. I must endure it, at least until the intermission. She told herself, reinforcing her will. A few more minutes had passed, but for Nidley it felt like a whole hour had passed. She could only ignore the blistering pain welling between her legs for so long. She hunched up, closing her legs and crossing them, pressing her heels beneath her dress and up against her Knivhood. There was a tickle of soft cotton against her lips, and in shame, Nidley found it quite pleasurable. It brought some relief from the cumbersome urges, but she could feel them growing with a burning intensity with each passing second. I can’t hold it for much longer! She huddled up, her whole body quivering. Soon, the desires, the waning strength, the bulging in her lower tummy, it got to be too much. Not even the weight of her heels pressing against her Knivhood could quell her bladders desire for watery relief any longer. Nidley huffed a grouchy sigh. She had grown desperate enough to ponder tugging on her Master’s collar and asking, no, begging, if she could be excused to relieve herself, but to see Sidmere so enthralled in the play deflated that idea in an instant. Instead, Nidley whimpered, rocking back and forth to ease herself. She buried her head in her knees, seething with frustration as her bladder swelled, persisting with its desire for relief, refusing to hold back the flood with sheer will alone. Her Knivhood, winced, protesting her refusal to pester Sidmere during his show. It’s just a little longer! Five minutes at the most! I can hold it for five more minutes! Once intermission comes, I’ll ask Master if we can go to the lavatory. Nidley pushed her hands into her heels and resumed watching the play unhindered with a moody glare. “Perhaps thou shalt look more appealing to our lady with some make-up!” A man in a wig with a pompous accent jested, his voice booming over the chuckling audience. The audience erupted in laughter as he produced a pie and slammed his friends face into it, covering the poor lad in cream. The laughter grew; Sidmere too, chuckled at the antics of the on-stage duo, which did Nidley no pleasure as the Kniv was jostled up and down on his shoulder like a ship in a storm. She groaned, the contents of her little bladder sloshing and swirling wildly like a drunks tankard. It caused her great discomfort, an agony unlike any she had known that left her whimpering. She bit down on her lips and hissed, tightening her hold on her Knivhood. With her tail, she wrapped herself around a strand of Sidmere’s hair and steadied herself until the comedic antics had ceased. Five more minutes, five agonizing minutes that felt as if they had no end, and finally, like a single drop of teetering dew atop a leaf had fallen, Nidley felt her resolve slowly trickle away under the weight of her bladder. The discomfort was too much, the pain that sent shivers throughout her body made it feel as if she was carrying the weight of the ocean in her tiny bladder. Nidley could only bite down on her lip, pressing her fangs against her lips and whimpering. She squeezed her heels deeper against herself, grabbing at herself with her fingers too. It was all hands on deck, anything to ensure that she would not flood her gown. Right now, the Kniv knew she wouldn’t make it to intermission, that one brief moment of weakness where it felt as if an accident was inevitable had undone her. It was all she needed to muster the courage to call for her Master’s attention. With his dark hair, and expressionless visage, Sidmere looked a truly fearful beast in the shadow of the halls. Like a shy child quivering at the hands of an intimidating beast, Nidley struggled to take the first step for his attention. She slowly got to her feet, her legs quivering. They felt heavy, like she would collapse. After a deep breath, Nidley raised her tail slowly and with a gentle tap, signalled for Sidmere’s attention. “M-Master?” She squeaked, tapping his cheek again. “Master?” He swatted away her tail as if it were a fly. That was not enough to deter Nidley, who persisted in begging for his attention. Finally, he looked over his shoulder and with a merciless glare, placed a finger over his lips and gestured for the Kniv to be quiet. “It’s important.” She whispered, tugging on his ear. “R-Really important.” Sidmere sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as he often did when frustrated. “Your vow of silence Nidley - Honour it.” He whispered and returned to watching the play. Nidley huffed, crossed her arms and bore her fangs in a childish protest. Being scolded, especially when she desperately needed his attention frustrated the Kniv to no end. She sat back down, legs crossed and glared at nothing, grasping herself, fingers deep between her knickers, to keep her bladder at bay. Out of spite, she pondered squatting down, pulling her knickers aside and relieving herself on his shoulder. That would’ve made her point well enough - having a stream of hot pee dripping down his precious dress jacket. She knew that her Master was not one to be easily distracted during a performance, but right now, as she felt her faucet slowly turning, tightening around her belly, the Kniv knew she had no choice. Courtesy of her contract with Sidmere, Nidley was to obey anything she was told. Right now, she was to honour the vow of silence she had promised her Master. That meant there was not to be a peep from her. If she was to get her Master’s attention, she would need to do it without uttering a word. Then, a moment of inspiration struck. It may have been the best idea the Kniv ever had. If she could not speak, then she would simply draw out what she was trying to say. Her Master may have prohibited her from speaking, but there was no rule to say she could not use her illusions and manifesting magic to draw out what she so desperately needed him to know. As the old adage goes: True words are spoken from the heart. And right now Nidley’s heart wanted nothing more than to pee. She climbed up to her feet, only to be caught off-guard by a surge of desperation that shook her whole body and caused her to tremble at the knees. She grimaced, teeth grinding and squeezed her thighs together until it subsided. Ignoring it, that was all she had to do for now. Channelling a faint trace of magical energy, her tail began to glow a lowly purple. As magical energy took a users body and their strength to channel it, that meant Nidley was not fully committed to holding herself, and she began to feel it fast. She could feel herself growing weak. Through the flaring of her magic rushing through her veins, there again was the burden of her bladder bulging between her legs, calling her, begging her, urging her to pee. Nidley thought nothing of it, and through the shakes and unending pain, gritted her teeth and focused solely on her magic. Like an artist painting on a canvas, Nidley flicked her tail against the air, the tip leaving a line of glowing magical energy. It hung in the air, glowing a dim purple. She drew a glass first, followed by a large pitcher of water above it that filled the tiny glass. She painted quickly, spurred on by desperation. The glass overflowed as she painted the water spilling from the pitcher into it, pouring endlessly. Again, She pulled on her Master’s ear fiercely, and when he glanced down, Nidley pointed frantically to the image she had drawn hanging in the air. Please get it! She begged, but alas, Sidmere scowled and brushed away the image with a wave of his hand. It dissolved in the air, particles of magical energy slowly raining over the Kniv and fading away. “Now is not the time for games, Nidley.” He whispered. She scowled, tail lashing in anger. She conjured more magical energy against the protest of her bladder, and tried again. This time she created a small bush and hovering above it was a mighty rain cloud, drenching the poor little bush in a mighty shower. The drawing, much like her first was, was tantalising, the faint glowing picture was enough to tease her bladder to the point of bursting. A bush being watered by a stream of water. What she wouldn’t give to be the one doing the watering. Tapping Sidmere on the shoulder, Nidley began frantically pointing at her picture. “Hmm…” She muttered, unable to speak. Again, her Master shook his head and waved away the image. “We can discuss the weather during the intermission.” Nidley shook her head, steaming from her ears. Neither picture had worked, and for the third try she knew she would just have to be blunt. So much for subtlety. A commode, she’d just have to draw it, one of those strange bowls humans sat on to do their dirty deeds. Again, her tail swished through the air, painting with magical energy. As she tried to draw the toilet, a striking twinge from her bladder struck Nidley with a fierce burning that welled up between her thighs. “Umm…” She hissed, biting down on her lip and crossed her legs, again squeezing her thighs and hobbling up and down desperately. Her thoughts now lingered on how desperately she needed to pee, it clouded her mind, completely dominating her thoughts, but she finished. For the final time, she pressed her tail against Sidmere’s cheek and poked at him for his attention. This time he ignored her, and steaming at the ears, Nidley started stamping on his shoulder and pulling at his collar. “Hmmmm!” She muttered angrily. “Hmmmmm!” He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and leaping on that chance, Nidley began frantically pointing at her painting. “What is it?” He furrowed his brows in angry curiosity. “Hmmm!” Nidley turned to look at her illusion and upon seeing what she had truly drawn, leapt and fumed up, steaming with anger. It was not a toilet, but rather a bunch of purple scribbles hanging in the air. What she thought to be an illustration for the toilet was actually just a jumbled mess of scribbles like a finger-less child had been set loose on a canvas. But it worked. Finally, realizing this would continue until she was free to speak, Sidmere gave her permission to speak. “Make it quick. What do you have to say?” He uttered angrily. She could speak again! And not a moment too soon. The Kniv waddled to her Master’s ear, keeping her tail tucked between her legs. “I n-need… to do a dirty thing.” She whispered like a whimpering child, hobbling on foot. “You know… w-watering the plants.” She slid down to her knees, squeezing her legs together and pushed the length of her tail against herself. Upon hearing those words, Sidmere’s eyes shot up and finally he took some notice of why the Kniv had been desperately vying for his attention. Still, he showed little sympathy to her plight, and rather showed frustration, rubbing the bridge of his nose and exhaling. The calm, focused stare of a man who was not just watching, but analysing every moment of a rousing theatrical performance was now the glare of a man rattled by an easily-avoided inconvenience. The tip of his finger started to glow and Sidmere flicked it against the air, writing subtly to avoid drawing attention. “I warned you not to drink that whole glass. You should’ve gone before the play started.” He wrote out with magical energy. More magical energy, the thought made Nidley grimace. “I didn’t have to go then.” She replied, spelling out her own words with a swish of her tail. “Can I please be excused?” She continued frantically swishing her tail to spell out the words as quickly as she could. Each second channelling magical energy was another second she was growing weak at the knees. “It is poor manners to get up during a performance.” Sidmere scowled as he wrote out the words. “Can you not wait until intermission?” “No.” She replied, and as if her bladder knew, a violent twinge shook her legs, the pain was so great she bent over in pain, grasping between her legs. “P-Please, Master… I’m about to have an accident here. I’ll be quick, I promise.” This time she could not write out the words. Sidmere gave in, but not without showing his frustration. He buried his head in his palm and took a breath deep enough to interrupt the lady beside them. He flexed his hand, his finger still glowing. “Very well, but be quick.” “Thank you!” She out spelled out her gratitude and encased it within a large drawn heart. Seeing those words filled her with undeniable glee. Without pause, she shot up from her Master’s shoulder and let her wings carry her over the audience and back out into the corridors. There was only one problem, and it had not occurred to her until now. Nidley stopped and looked up and down the corridors. With a whimper, she froze and remembered. “W-Where even is the lavatory?” The corridors did nothing to help Nidley navigate. For a few minutes, the Kniv wandered hopelessly, flying through the air with her tail tucked tightly between her legs. “Where’s the lavatory?” She cursed, puffing out her cheeks. There was only so much aimless wandering Nidley could do before she started searching every room she passed. “Toilet?” The first room was not a toilet. “Commode?” The second room she found was not a commode. “Pee-Place?” The third room was not that either. None of the rooms she peeked into were the lavatory, and after so long Nidley was struggling to even keep herself up with her wings. The strain on them was heavy, like she was being weighed down. She could only fly so far before her wings started to beat wearily and she needed to rest. The Kniv found herself in the dining hall that she and her Master had come into for dinner before the performance. She landed on the stairwell, perching herself on the banister and pressed her butt down to stifle the twinges between her thighs. “Umm~” She sighed, shifting her cheeks across the polished wood. “I need to go~” She surveyed the hall from her little position, scouting for the lavatories, but still she couldn’t see them. “Ooh, why are they so hard to find?” Nidley huffed. And then, she had quite the sinful idea, one that made her little cheeks burn up. Since the dining hall was empty, Nidley pondered finding something she could use as a lavatory. A plant or maybe even an unattended bottle. She could do her dirty deeds in either and dart off before she could be seen. Right now, she couldn’t even keep herself in the air for long and it was only going to get worse for her. “Surely I could be forgiven right?” She pondered, the tip of her tail scratching her chin. And then, she saw something gleaming in the dining hall. “Or better yet…” She grinned, baring her fangs. “I don’t have to be forgiven if nobody sees me~” Two tall silvery glasses sat on a silver tray, and beside them a tremendously-sized bottle of that strange stuff human’s liked to drink. Nidley could never remember the name. But one of those tall glasses, with the bottle of drink to conceal her would be perfect. It was the perfect crime. It would be just like back home in Fort Victoria - Whenever nature called and she couldn’t make it back to her chambers, she scampered into the nearest plants and slyly squatted down to do her business in the soil instead. It wasn’t one of those strange bowls humans did their dirty business in, but Nidley didn’t care. Not that she would’ve cared; she was too small to use those bowls anyway, and the last time she had attempted to use one she had almost fallen in, having lost her footing as she squatted at the edge of the seat. “I guess the glass will do.” She shrugged. “I just have to be zippy-quick~” She giggled mischievously. She spun around, scouting out the hall and making sure nobody was around to witness her uncivilized use of the glass. She couldn’t see a soul in sight, though she did hear sounds coming from the kitchen; a few pans rattling and the screams of a very angry man. That didn’t matter to her, and it didn’t worry her as long as nobody came out. She spread her wings and zipped over the tables, flying toward the silver tray. Since nobody was around, she was free to prepare herself beforehand; already Nidley had lifted her skirt and propped it up with her arms, uncovering her bare thighs and a peek of her white frilly knickers. A stray breeze caught her beneath the dress and the Kniv giggled as it tickled her thighs. Flying down and hovering herself over the glass, Nidley snapped her fingers and vanished her knickers. With her nether-reigions exposed beneath her dress, she lowered herself and plopped down on the rim on the rim of the glass. A fang-baring grin adorned her face… until the cold frosted glass greeted her bare backside and Nidley, unsuspecting of her little rose meeting such a cold surface, hopped up and grasped her round, numbed cheeks. “Gaah! C-C-Cold! C-Cold butt.” She yelped, her teeth chattering. She could feel just how blue her peachy little cheeks were. Her long white gown fell back down and covered her up. Angry, the little Kniv spun around and scowled at the glass, baring her fangs in an attempt to intimidate it. The glass returned her scowl through its frosted reflection. After a moment to prepare her butt for the freezing trial ahead, Nidley tried again. She dropped her seething scowl, sighed and again hiked up her dress. “You won’t be so cold when I’m done with you, you dumb glass.” This time the rims icy cold welcome didn’t bother her. She rested her butt on the rim, straddling the glass between her legs to balance herself. The chill of the glass made her palms grow numb. She wiggled her butt and shimmied herself backward, giving her spout enough room so she wouldn’t dribble over the glass. Her long white gown fluttered down and covered her up. “Okay~” She mumbled. Nidley relaxed, straddled the glass even tighter and gave her bladder a gentle push. But before the first drop could even dribble, the tray began to rattle. Suddenly, Nidley started jiggling. Her whole body was shaking against her will, and it played havoc with her bladder. The little Kniv seethed, biting into her lower lip. The whole tray was rattling, the glasses, the bottle, the silverware, it rattled and danced, shaking around the tray. It didn’t take her long to realize the cart was moving, but she had realized it too late and the sudden jolt as it moved into motion was enough to knock Nidley off the bottle and onto the silver tray. She landed with a heavy clank, her bare arse raised in the air. “Oww~” She moaned, rubbing her cheeks. “So this is to go up to Lord Donnecker in the balconies?” A young girl asked. Nobody had noticed her yet, the tall bottle had concealed her. Nidley cheered, she was free. For now. She hid herself behind the bottle of dizzy juice and peered up, sighting a young girl dressed like the servants she had seen earlier. “Indeed it is.” An older gentleman replied. “Lord Donnecker enjoys a glass of frosted champagne during the intermission. Have these glasses been cleaned and frosted adequately?” He asked, his voice pretentious and droll, like all the fancy people she had seen tonight. “My Lord will not tolerate mediocre refreshment.” The cart again started moving, and Nidley found herself moving through the halls. She grumbled, lashing out at the steel with her tail. This isn’t exactly what she desired and to make matters worse the rattling of the cart was shaking her bladder. Every second she winced as the stuttering silver shook her water around, making her legs quiver. It had already dawned on the desperate Kniv that she couldn’t do it here. She couldn’t do anything while that girl was there. It had been a stroke of pure luck that they hadn’t noticed her sitting atop the glass with her bare butt dangling over it like it was a commode. And then, inspiration struck. If Nidley could not move while the girl was there, then she’d simply need to move her instead. Again, her talent for illusions would be useful. With her hands… between her legs, she’d again rely on her tail for casting. With a swish, she channelled a small amount of magical energy to the tip of her tail. Under the stress of the gathering magic, Nidley began to tremble, her whole body seized and she was forced to stop channelling by a violent twinge up her Knivhood. “T-This is getting harder to do…” She said with a grimace, biting her lower lip. With a flick, the Kniv summoned the illusion of a small rat from her magical energy. The bushy little creature came to life and immediately scuttled up to her. Nidley reached out and gave her summon a kind pat on the head. “Okay, little fella, your creator has a very important task.” She paused, again seizing up. She wrapped her tail around herself and squeezed her thighs together. “Y-Your Master really needs to do d-dirty things, and I need you to jump from this cart and give that human the scare of a lifetime.” Understanding its Master’s command, the rat squeaked and without hesitation leapt from the cart. It landed and began to scurry around the girls legs. A loud shrill squeal that captivated pure terror sundered the corridors. “R-RAT!” The girl yelled. “R-R-RAT!” She continued to scream. “Good job, my pet!” Nidley said gleefully, grinning. “Now go scuttling off down the hall and get that silly human to chase you.” She heard the pitter-patter of quick feet escape along the floor. “It’s heading for the dining hall!” The girl screeched, and with it, she followed, calling for the Chef. With the server out of the picture, Nidley could finally escape. The plant was just a few feet ahead. Nature’s commode, doing it there would just be like doing it back home. She sighed, her tail waving from side-to-side. Not long until she could relieve herself now. With her wings spread, Nidley leapt from the cart and darted toward the plant pot. She was bursting, close to the point of going in her gown. She didn’t even have time to properly land and instead relied on the soft soil to cushion her fall. With a little yelp, the Kniv fell face first into the dirt. She had been lucky enough to vanish her evening wear during the jump, but that came at a price. Nidley shuddered, feeling another dribble from her spigot. That small doing of removing her dress had been more magical energy than her body could bear and her Knivhood quivered. Her lower lips twitched and a spurt of hot pee shot out into the palm of her hand, soaking her fingers. “Ooooh~” She whimpered, sinking her fingers between her dripping lips. This was her limit, she could feel it. Her lower lips were quivering feverishly. She felt like she couldn’t contain herself any longer. Thankfully for little Nidley, the Motherling was watching over her during this bout of pee-holding as the Kniv had been lucky to find herself concealed in the large thick shrubbery of a potted plant. Peering out from the leaves, Nidley saw the grand hall where she had come in. It was deserted, and under the cover of this tree, she had finally found somewhere private she could relieve herself. “Haa~ Motherling smile upon me.” She cried with joy. This was it, finally. She hunkered down beneath the leaves, patting the soil to flatten it out, a Knivish habit that was yet to curb since living among humans. Though she had seen the many advancements humans have made, Nidley was not one above squatting down and leaving a warm damp patch in the soil. The feeling of the soft soil between the toes, the earthy smell, the gentle dance she’d do as she squatted down, it all reminded her of home. She closed her eyes, imagining herself home in the forest. It was just like being under the shade of a giant tree once more and Nidley never thought she would feel nostalgic for peeing beneath a tree. Again, she wiggled her backside and relaxed, letting the metaphorical spigot turn. “IT WENT INTO THAT PLANT!” A girl screamed. “IT’S IN THE PLANT!” Suddenly, Nidley opened her eyes, panic and confusion engulfing her. “W-What?” She panicked, hopping up to her feet and covering her nethers with her tail. "I wasn't about to pee, I swear!" The rat she had summoned earlier had returned to her, and even worse it had brought some friends along with it. Before she could say anything, Nidley saw movement in the hall. “WHERE IS THAT FILTHY RAT!?” A loud man with a thick accent screamed. “I’LL CRUSH IT AND SERVE IT TO THE PEASANTS!” A large object came bearing down on the plant and without time to think, Nidley knew she had to get out of there. She could see the man was holding something long, like the handle of a broom and she didn’t wish to become a pancake. “IT’S IN THE PLANT!” The girl continued to panic. “G-GET IT! CRUSH IT!” The man brought down his mighty weapon atop the plant, crushing it. Nidley couldn’t quite see what he was wielding, but if it was a broom he had struck it with power. The whole plant was almost crushed, leaves and dirt raining through the air. If she had been there in the middle of that, she would’ve been more than a Kniv pancake. She spread her wings and flew upward, toward a ledge that housed the bust of an old grouchy looking man. Her little heart was racing, sweat was dripping down her face. Somehow neither the fear or desperation had undone her, and the Kniv kept herself nice and dry. She landed atop the ledge, wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and took a deep breath. She may have been on the verge of soiling herself, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate that she hadn’t been flattened. “I t-think you got it.” The girl said calmly, the first time she had been calm all night. “Of course I got it!” The man replied proudly. “I will not have filthy rats in my kitchen or my halls! Come on! We’ve got to get another serving of Champagne ready!” And just like that, her hopes of relief had been crushed just like the plant she so desperately wished to water. With a sombre scowl, Nidley looked down at the plant, fidgeting at the thought that it would remain dry until the end of time. Right now, she had to make herself decent. She again snapped her fingers and re summoned her evening wear, but this time Nidley succumbed to the fatigue that came with spellcasting. Just as she had praised herself for staying dry, she felt another quiver between her legs and her bladder trembled under the weight of weakness. A spurt of pee came gushing from her Knivhood, dampening her freshly-summoned knickers. “Aah~” Nidley whimpered, pressing her thighs together and rubbing them feverishly against one another, frowning at the feeling of a fresh spurt of pee now dribbling down her bare legs. It had been such a mighty spurt that not even her knickers could contain it. She was teetering right on the edge of soiling herself, like she was balancing a glass of water that had been filled to the rim. It would wobble and a few dribbles would escape but for now the glass itself had not spilled. That’s what it was like for the Kniv and her poor bladder. Under her crushing desperation, Nidley had another bout of inspiration. She snapped her fingers and grinned, showing off her fangs to the ugly stone bust. She was full of ideas tonight, almost as full of them as she was with pee, and that was quite a bit. “I hope you don’t mind~” She said to the stone bust, which said nothing in return. “But I’m going to do something behind you… nnnothing bad, I promise.” She smiled and petted the bust’s nose. Again, the bust said nothing. Nidley rushed around the back of the bust, hands fiddling with the hem of her dress until she could get it hiked up. “Ooh~ Have to pee~ Have to pee~” She was just about to squat down and pull her knickers aside when the ledge began to quake. There was a loud bang that trembled the walls and ledges violently. “W-Woah!” Nidley yelled, letting go of her dress and tumbling forward. The tremors kept quaking beneath her little feet and she couldn’t stop herself. Nidley fell forward, toward the edge of the ledge, nearly going over it. Before she could fall, the Kniv managed to wrap her tail around one of the railings holding the ledge up. “O-Ow!” She cried, her whole body jostled by the shock of grasping to the railing. “Uhh~” She continued to whimper, feeling the content of her bladder slosh around as she rocked in the air. “What on earth was th- eep!” People. A whole crowd of them appeared as if from nowhere, travelling down the corridor toward the dining hall. The air rumbled with droll conversation and Nidley couldn’t even hear herself think. “Gah!” Nidley puffed out her cheeks and huffed furiously. “Why do you humans always show up when I’m about to pee?” She was too tired to lift herself up. Her bladder had such a stranglehold on her body that she couldn’t even keep her tail wrapped around the wall for too long. It was a tremendous strain, and even though the rest of her body trembled from weakness, all Nidley could focus on was her bladder, nibbling at the air as agony soared through her. She knew she couldn’t do it up here now. Any hope of a discrete little pee beside this ugly stone bust was right out of the window. Slowly, she could feel her tail unravelling like a knot of twine. She hissed, baring her fangs at the crowd who paid her no mind, not that they even noticed she was up there, dangling by her tail. Right now, with her tail unravelling, Nidley just had to hit and hope. Somewhere discrete, somewhere dark, somewhere where she could not be seen while doing her dirty little deed, that was all she needed. And it would start with her braving that tremendous crowd beneath her. This was going to be it. She just needed to hold herself through this last little ordeal. Nidley sighed, took the deepest breath she possibly could and unravelled her tail, letting herself descend on the theatre-goers. “Coming through!” She yelled down to the people below her as her wings spread out and she took flight. It was like navigating a rampaging ocean of petticoats and evening wear, the rampant waves the theatre goers who descended upon the hall like a tsunami. Her wings couldn’t lift her as well as she had expected and Nidley found herself flying as if she had a weight around her stomach, tight and constricting her, pulling her down to the ground. She bobbed up and down, struggling to lift herself any higher than the crowd. The strain was too much and Nidley again felt herself break. With the quietest of squeaks, she braced for another leak. Only this was not just a leak; leaks were sudden, they lasted not even a second. This was a stream, a small rush of pee that lasted at least two seconds, spattering against the yellowish fabric of her undies. “Haa~” Nidley cried, trapped between sweet relief and shame. But that little undie-wetter was not the end of it. A second, smaller dribble escaped, leaking into her already damp knickers and embracing her quivering knivhood with a little soggy smooch. Suddenly, while distracted by the vile feeling between her thighs, Nidley flew right into a passing gentleman. “Wah!” She screamed, throwing herself right and narrowly avoiding his thick moustache. The sudden shock caused a loss of control and again a hot spurt flooded her knickers. “I’m sorry!” She called back... only to narrowly avoid striking another passing man square in the monocle. “Ah! Apologies!” She kept calling. The crowd seemed endless, and wherever Nidley flew to avoid somebody, she found another person inches from colliding with her. “Coming through! Excuse me! Sorry! Passing by!” She said frantically to each passing person. With each passing gentleman spouting curses at the passing Kniv, Nidley felt another spurt. They kept coming, small, wet spurts, each growing larger than the last and with no way for the Kniv to contain them. Her knickers were beginning to feel wet and heavy, like she had already relieved herself in them. The smell too was growing, a fresh scent of pee that mixed in the air. Suddenly, she felt a dribble creeping down her legs and dripping from the heel of her foot. “Wah!” She screamed, her cheeks growing hot at the idea that she was leaking onto those poor people. At the back of crowds which she braved and passed, Nidley found respite - a small wooden door that had been left open. It was perfect, she could escape the crowds in there and if fate favoured her, find something to relieve herself in before it was too late. As quick as she could, she flew through the gap in the door. She’d escaped the crowds, and with luck on her side, she’d escaped making her own knickers the commode she so desperately sought. At least not entirely, she was damp and leaking between her legs, but there was still some resolve left in her. With her wings batting weakly, Nidley hovered and landed on the floor. “Hnnn~” She hissed, her bladder feeling heavy against her whimpering body. She couldn’t keep her wings spread for more than a second. Even flapping them was enough to spur on her bladder, sending the urge to leak spiralling down between her thighs. Flying through that crowd had taken more out of Nidley than she’d like. All that moving and holding, the stress of navigating those crowds had left her weak. Trembling at the knees, she slid down to the floor, pushing herself against the floor. “Uuuh~” The little Kniv whimpered, biting her lip. Her knickers were damp, soaked through with pee, as were her hands. “How did I make it through that crowd?” She looked down at herself, hands buried under her dress, the hem raised and exposing her thighs, as well as a peek of her knickers which were stained a pale yellow. “I need to know where I am.” She said, lifting herself up to her feet. “Oooh~” She whimpered again, bending over and thrusting her hands between her legs to ease an uncomfortable quiver. She felt numb at the knees. It was difficult to walk, but she needed to continue. With a small swish, she lit up her tail, lighting up the darkness. She was beside a large velvet curtain where a light shone through beneath it, illuminating a large room filled with all kinds of strange objects. Nidley didn’t know what they were, but they were flimsy, thin and resembled everyday items. Behind the curtain, she heard footsteps. “Oh, and perhaps you expect me to proposition the Duke’s daughter!” A boisterous man boomed, his voice echoing through the empty air and rattling the hollow floors. A crowd burst out in laughter, and it was that thunderous chortling that helped Nidley to realize where she was. “I must be behind the stage.” She took a few steps toward the curtain and peered behind it. “Oh, why did I have to end up here?” She cried, wiggling her hips and pressing the tip of her tail up against her soft spot. “There’s nowhere to go back here~” A torn grimace of dimmed hope adorned her face as she spun around to take in the void backstage. Nowhere for a sneaky Kniv to do the dirty deed. No commode, no cup, no plant. Nowhere. The lack of anything caused her lower tummy to tighten and she fell to her knees, clutching her Knivhood with all of her might. She just needed somewhere to hike up her dress and pee. All the empty space taunted her bladder. Nidley squirmed, crossing her legs and pressing her thighs together. It had grown worse, far worse, and as she felt a terrifying twitch from her maidenly spout, a cold shudder shot up her back. She feared this may be it. “Ahh! I’m going to have to go in the corner!” She said, her voice breaking. She had walked over to the corner, lifting the hem of her dress and thinking pleasant thoughts to cover the shame burning through her, but then out of the corner of her eye, Nidley spotted something. Something wondrous. Something that made her eyes sparkle. Up on a table beside her, shining in the reflection of the stage light, Nidley saw a glass mug. It was just what she needed, and the sight of the small glass mug proved to be too much for Nidley. Her bladder gave out and the stray spurts that dampened her knickers became more frequent. She couldn’t contain herself any longer and with a face of horror, she knew that if she was not sat on that mug in the next few seconds it would be too late. Without time to think, pee flooding her knickers, Nidley rushed to the mug, holding herself the entire way. “I’m leaking! I’m leaking! I’m leaking!” She kept whimpering, hoping that perhaps those words would be enough to spare her an accident. There it was, right beneath her, a small glass mug that held all the hope she had left. Hovering over it, with her wings beating weakly, too fatigued to carry her, Nidley lifted up her dress and yanked down her knickers in a single motion. A few drops landed between her feet and stained the cloth of the table, but she didn’t care. She landed atop the rim of the mug and plopped herself down, hovering her bare butt over it. She straddled the rim and pressed her feet against the table to keep herself steady and finally, after a night of insurmountable holding, Nidley felt the tremendous burden of her bladder relinquishing its grip on her. The small dark space resonated with a shameful sound of splattering. Nidley gasped, her eyes widening as an oddly pleasurable numbness took her. It all happened in an instant, or that was how it felt as Nidley was whisked away by relief. Her mind had gone blank as dire pleasure numbed her, leaving only a tingling feeling. The next few seconds melted into a single passing frame as if time had frozen. She knew nothing of anything around her. Nidley only knew a great sense of relief. “Haaa~” The quiet air grew louder, a muffled tinkling striking the side of the glass polluted the air. “Oooh~” The little Kniv moaned, wiggling her backside. She felt warm, a blissful radiance shone through her as more and more of her pee spilled out into the mug, tinkling against the glass quite fiercely as her bladder hurried to empty itself. Nidley could not control herself, her frail quivering thighs could not stop the flood that ran from between her maidenly lips, sloshing into the glass. She felt the hot sprinkling of pee against her bare thighs as her stream struck the side of the glass with force. The rising heat of her pee swirling around in the mug, rising up and warming her bare cheeks. Nidley giggled, feeling a naughty pleasure as her backside grew warm. A long thirty seconds must have passed, but at last she felt her stream die to a trickle, a few stray dribbles plopped into the almost overflowing mug. Nidley spread her legs and glanced down between her thighs, admiring the ocean of steaming yellow she had produced. The mug was almost overflowing, the pool of warm fluid must have been only an inch from her bare backside. When there was nothing left, and she was feeling gleefully empty, Nidley clicked her heels together and looked up with a gleaming expression of bliss on her face. “Haa~ I feel so much better~” She sighed, the whole ordeal had left her flustered and feeling short of breath. “Gah! I’ve got nothing to wipe with…” She huffed and immediately remembered something. She lifted up her legs and kicked off her knickers. She held them in her hand and balled them up. The clean white cotton was now stained yellow and reeking of fresh pee. Nidley chuckled, knowing that at last she had an excuse to be rid of this invasive crotch cloth. There was no way she could wear stained knickers back to the hall, and thankfully she had avoided getting any pee on her dress. There was only one use for them now. Nidley hopped down from the teapot and lifted the hem of her dress. She bent over and used her stained knickers to wipe herself. “I won’t be needing you anymore.” She said gleefully as she wiped and once she was finished, she threw them away, watching them burn up in a small purple flame. “That feels great! It’s like my whole body can breathe again.” All that was left now was for Nidley to vacate from the backstage and return to her seat. She flew out into the corridors, which were now empty again, and hurried back to the theatre. Flying was such a joy now that she didn’t have to worry about her bladder. Nidley felt like she could fly for miles. She could fly around the great mountains and back, that was how good she was feeling, and the great mountains were no easy feat to a little Kniv. She found her way back to the theatre with ease, flying through the dark aisles, looking up and down every seat until she found her Master. Quietly, she flew up behind him, tapping his ear with her tail and sat down atop his shoulder, grinning. Sidmere looked down at her and with a gentle wave of his finger, began writing something out. “There you are.” He followed up his words with a disapproving tut. “You’ve been gone for a while.” Nidley did not write out any words, but instead described where she had been to her Master, drawing a small flower being splattered by a stream of water from an unknown source, coupled with a poor drawing of herself, smiling blissfully. The indecent image hovering before his eyes had Sidmere’s cheeks burning red. He rolled his eyes and brushed his hand through the air, dispelling the illusion before anybody else had a chance to see it. He said nothing more on the matter, considered it dealt with, and returned to watching the performance. Nidley did too, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable. She grinned gleefully knowing she was rid of those awful knickers. The rotund man from the start of the play walked on stage, in his hands he held a glass brimming with beer. “HERE WE ARE, THINE LORD. A BREW SERVED FROM THE FINEST TAPS IN THIS WHOLE LAND!” He offered his companion the mug, smirking brightly. “DO MAKE SURE TO SAMPLE IT ALL IN A SINGLE SIP!” “Blegh.” Nidley stuck her tongue out. “Is he going to drink that vile stuff you humans call ale?” “That’s what the Lord thinks.” Sidmere whispered with a sly smile. “But he is in for quite the surprise.” And then, all the way back here, it hit Nidley as clear as a brick to the face. That glass mug - could it be? She giggled and cozied up beside her Master, teeth showing with a devilish grin. “I think I know what’s about to happen.” She whispered.
  2. "Oh, thank you for coming, Lady Helen." "It is my pleasure, Milord." The old man took her hand as she descended down her carriage. She smiled politely, as decorum dictated her to do. Even as she felt the need to pee. She had been invited to his estate to teach his two daughters in the art of magic. She gladly accepted, as the pay was good, and she wanted to try being a teacher as well. And now, the old man, who was her client, went on a proud ramble about his daughters as he brought her to the visitor room. She could tell how much he loved them for sure. As she walked however, her urge was getting stronger and stronger. And it would be rude to excuse herself for a nose powdering session, as a genteel lady would say. And so when she saw a painting on the nearby wall, she stopped. With a smile, she turned to the painting and said, "Oh my, what a wonderful painting!" The old man immediately blabbered on about its history and origin. But she didn't care. She didn't really stop to admire them after all. She spread her legs under her dress, let out a sigh, and relaxed her bladder. A warm trickle immediately emerged, rewetting her already damp purple panties from her many wettings before getting here. Then, a slow trickle of pee fell down her crotch, splashing lightly onto the marble floor below. She peed shamelessly right then and there. She stared at the painting; her trickle barely leaving a sound. When the old man asked her of her opinion, she would respond as normal with a giggle, as if she wasn't wetting herself at all. Eventually however, she had to stop her stream prematurely as they resumed their walk. The old man didn't notice in the slightest, that there was a suspicious puddle appearing under her dress (which wasn't wet in the slightest). And with the diuretic pumping more pee into her bladder, it wouldn't be long until she would make a similar puddle again.
  3. It is a common rumour among those seeking to become guardians of the queen that the trials you must face will test everything about you. Physical strength, mental fortitude and stamina are things to be expected when you are training to guard the most important woman in the realm. What Sierra, cadet 1st class of the Royal College of warfare, did not expect was a test of bladder strength. When she had summoned by Lillith, Captain-General of the royal guard and a baroness, for a one on one lesson she assumed it would be the usual tests. Some intense sparring practice followed by an exam on what she learned during her time at the college. but what she found in the barren, stone-floored training hall surprised her. Lillith stood naked in the middle of the room, pale sunlight pouring down on her from the stained glass window high above them. Sierra's face turned blood red, and she averted her eyes to the window high above. "My lady, please accept my apologies" Sierra stammered embarrassed for seeing her leader in such a state of undress. "I had no idea that you were not ready for my arrival and will quickly leave if you wish." Sierra prepared herself to be harshly disciplined for her apparent mistake, but, strangely, it never came. "Cadet Sierra, you have done no wrong, lower your head." Sierra swore she must have heard that order wrong "But my lady, you are in no clothes." She heard Lillith come closer, but she would not dare look to see how close. "Cadet, I am supposed to be naked, so look at me. Besides, if you can't bring yourself to look at another woman's naked body, could you bring yourself to cut down a criminal?" Sierra swallowed and lowered her head. "My lady I am prepared to do anything in my service to the crown, I did not know that any test would involve you being naked." Sierra's cheeks were on fire as she laid eyes on Lillith's body for the first time proper, last time was only a short glance at Lillith before her gaze went skyward. The 28-year-old captain trained more than she slept, and the results could easily be noticed. Her 5,7 figure was lean and muscular, with a 6 pack many bodybuilders would kill for. Her dark blonde hair reached down to the small of her back, although Lillith often wore it in a ponytail when on duty. Her pearl green eyes were both beautiful and welcoming to her friends and piercing and menacing to her enemies. Her voluptuous C cup breasts had drawn the eyes of many nobles over the years, but, they were wise to keep such thoughts to themselves after what happened during the new season's dance. Finally, her attention was brought to Lillith's crotch. Her most secret area was hidden from Sierra's view by a large tuft of messily kept hair of the same colour as that on Lillith's head. "Ahem." Lillith's cough snapped Sierra out of her daze, and she quickly came to attention. "Apologies my Lady," she said, quickly spreading her legs and clasping her hands behind her back "Cadet Sierra Leronious reporting as summoned." Lillith nodded in response "Very good cadet, at ease" she ordered. Sierra relaxed her stance but still stayed on her toes, you never knew what these tests would involve. "You have been summoned here for a very special test today cadet, one that will test two attributes you never would have guessed would be something tested. Please take a guess as to what they are." Sierra glanced around, looking for anything in the room that might help her infer the nature of the tests. In the centre of the circular room, marked by an ornate pattern of great complexity, sat two covered jars. There was nothing special about them, no design or engraving on them, they could be empty for all she knew. Her eyes darted around, no sword racks, target dummies, bows and arrows or muskets. The room was as bare as Lillith's body. "My lady, I see no combat training gear nor any material for study. Are we learning hand-to-hand combat?. Captain Annya gave us our advanced lessons two weeks ago" Lillith shook her head "A good guess cadet, but we shall not be doing unarmed training today. What we shall be doing is something you might think unorthodox, even bizarre." Sierra took in a deep breath "My lady, I am willing to do anything in my training, no matter how odd it may be" she declared loud and proud. Lillith smiled "A good attitude to have cadet; especially for one seeking to become a royal guard." Sierra was glowing at the praise she received "Thank you, my lady, I will do whatever you order." Lillith turned on her heels and strode over to the mysterious jars, beckoning Sierra to follow her. She motioned for Sierra to look into the jars, which she promptly did. Inside, reflecting the sunlight seeping in from above, was 800ml of water. "2 jars, 1600 millilitres of the finest water in the land, purified to perfection by the royal mages and exactly 3 degrees Celsius" stated Lillith. Sierra was puzzled, why did she need this? "My lady, forgive me, but I do not understand. Is this water to pour over me as a test of my resistance to the cold or to bath in?" Lillith waved her hand "Neither cadet; they are to drink." Sierra was left with no answer and even more questions. "My lady I don't get it, I make it a priority to be properly hydrated, and this looks a little bit excessive. I would not drink such a large amount before going on duty because it would cause a mighty need to relieve myself." Lillith clapped slowly "And its precisely that urge we are going to fight today; for 2 and a half hours you must hold your urine." TOO BE CONTINUED After finishing Love can bloom from wet shorts (More Madison and Annie will be coming later), I was a bit lost on what to write next. I looked at my ALOA work and decided that the Tennessee story was shit so I had it deleted (The full story will be coming soon, sorry for making you guys wait so long for more shipgirl omo) and am going to rework it. While browsing omo art on Gelbooru, thinking about how I was gonna write the continuation to the ALOA, I came across some art by Dodomesu (https://gelbooru.com/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=4662823&tags=dodomesuhttps://gelbooru.com/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=4664017&tags=dodomesuhttps://gelbooru.com/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=4667945&tags=dodomesu) which inspired me to create some fantasy omorashi. This series of stories I plan to stretch across various fantasy races and jobs (eg Elves and Humans Barmaids and Royal guards). I have made up some of the names and created a little world in my head (hence why Lillith is spelt with two l's) where this is set which I hope to flush out throughout the story. I hope you guys enjoy this first part. CIAO.
  4. Hello all! This is the first chapter of a new small mini fanfic I've been writing in my spare time. It's kind of an inspiration of Dog Days and Konosuba mixed into one. The first chapter is very messing oriented as a disclaimed, so only read if you're into that! It's relatively short and I know the characters aren't really that fleshed out yet, but I might continue and work on this more in the future if people enjoy it and I have the time! Characters Chapter 1 “Silvie! Behind you!” “Hahh..!” Thrusting myself to the side, I just narrowly avoid the slam of a vine-like arm. My name, as you might have guessed, is Silvie. I am a member of this realms adventuring guild and the leader of a three-person party. We team up every week to hunt notorious monsters with high bounties and split the reward evenly between us. Part of the anthropoid race, I am a wolf breed blessed with a natural affinity for offensive magic. I have purple eyes and long silver hair. So long, in fact, it almost reaches all the way to my butt! The one shouting my name is Yukikaze, though we just call her Yuki. She’s a short girl with equally short light turquoise hair. Like me, she is also an anthropoid, but of the dog race and a user of support and healing magic. The ugly thing standing in front of us is our bounty. A morbol with a particularly high price on its head. They are disgusting land-dwelling plant based creatures that somewhat resemble an octopus. An ugly octopus. Gracefully landing a few feet back from the vine that just attacked me, my hand has already reached out to prepare for an offensive spell. With my eyes closed in concentration, a rune circle soon forms in front of my hand before I shout out “fireball!” and an explosive blast comes flying out, severing one of the morbol’s arms and sending it into a frenzy. “Silvie, you’re just pissing it off!” shouts my lime-green-haired companion. Her name is Eclair. She is also an anthropoid, a dog girl like Yukikaze. Though, unlike most of our kind, she relies more on physical attacks than magic. More specifically, she is a dagger user that just uses low-level wind magic to amplify her attacks. “Shut up, I can’t concentrate with all these damned vines coming from every direction!” I shout, narrowly avoiding another one of its attacks. “I’ll keep it distracted, you just focus on blasting it down!” Daggers in hand, Eclair plants a foot firmly behind her, a magic circle forming around her feet before launching her forward with tremendous force, her daggers making quick work of the vines as she flies forward and keeps the frenzied creature occupied long enough for me to set up for my next attack. Now able to truly focus, I close my eyes and begin charging up the most powerful spell I can muster. The more powerful the spell, the longer it takes to charge, and with your mind closed off and vulnerable you have to put a lot of faith in your companions to keep you safe. But with the three of us in sync, it only takes a minute before I’ve finally finished preparations, a large magic circle now covering the sky above us. Everything seems to be going great, before.. Thwap! The enraged morbol lands a hit on Eclair, sending her flying in the other direction as the creature’s attention quickly shifts back to me. “Crap.” I think. I should move, but if I do, the spell will cancel, and all the mana I’ve poured into it will have been wasted. With all our mana potions spent just clearing the way to get here, I won’t even have time to cast it again. Meaning, if I don’t pull this off now, we’ll end up having to retreat and try again tomorrow. Assuming someone else doesn’t claim the bounty before then. No way I’m risking someone swooping in and stealing our hard work. I can do this! With Yukikaze rushing over to aid and heal Eclair, I’m left on my own. It’s all or nothing. “Silvie, don’t be stupid, get out of there!” “Shut up, I got this!” Closing my eyes, I finish the final stages of the incantation, shouting out the final words.. “Explosion!!” With the sky turning a crimson red, the mana circle replaced by a bright light that shoots downwards right through the morbol’s skull, a blast wave completely decimating the creatures health before it explodes back into a cloud of aether that whisks away into the wind. “Hahaha! Did you see that, I co-ack!” Bursting into a coughing fit, I soon realize my attack was just a moment too slow. The damn creature got off an attack before I could set off the explosion, and in the flash of light I couldn’t even see it. Bolting out of the noxious poison cloud that was rapidly surrounding me, I feel my vision going blurry and my insides churning. “Silvie!” I barely hear as Yukikaze rushes to my side, quickly mustering up a healing and dispelling incantation that, at the very least, brings my senses back to normal. “I’m.. I’m fine.” I say, still hunched over and trying to catch my breath. “You don’t look fine. What were you thinking?!” A now fully healed Eclair shouts, rushing to my side herself. “Hey, we beat it, and that’s what matters! It will take more than a weak attack like that to take me d-nngh!” As I move to stand up again, a sharp pressure in my gut sends me back to my knees, stomach gurgling with a vengeance. Strangely, it doesn’t really hurt.. like poison attacks usually do, and Yuki should have been able to dispel anything immediately dangerous. In reality, it kinda just feels like I need to.. Grrrgglll..! ..Oh, no. Not that. Not now. Not here! “Silvie, take it easy! Let me get you an antidote.” Fffrrtt.. Nnnhh.. Oh god. There’s no time. I have to move. Now. “I-I’m fine. Really. Let’s just leave. Preferably right now.” Pushing myself up, I compose myself before taking a few steps forward. It seems like the pressure is subsiding a bit, but out of nowhere I find my body suddenly sent stumbling backwards with a strong jolt shooting up my spine. Yoink! “Eeyahhh!!” I give out an involuntary yelp as the sensitive nerves in my tail all fire at once, looking backwards to see a stern-faced dog girl thwarting my escape with a firm grip on my tail. “Don’t be a hard-head! Take your safety seriously for once!” Eclair chastises. “S-Silvie, if you’re still hurting, at least let me give you an antidote.” stutters Yuki as she quickly rummages through her bag. “I’m fine! I’m not in pain. Really. See? No pain at all! Now let’s just go ple-” Unf! Eclair, now blocking my path, jabs her fist into my gut without warning. “E-Eclair!” shouts an equally startled Yuki. “W-what the hell was that for?!” I cry out, nearly falling to my knees as my hands clutch my stomach “You’re fine, huh?! I barely touched you. You’ve been clutching yourself like that non-stop. What do you think you’re going to accomplish trying to act so-” Pfffrrbllrrrtt! “..tough? Uhh.. S-Silvie..?” O-oh god, please no. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire now. I didn’t even feel that coming. “Wait.. the reason you’re.. is it because you just need to..? P-pffhh..! Hahaha! Why didn’t you just say that?” Eclair, now fully aware of my situation, opts to replace her concern with bursts of laughter instead. Great. Thanks so much for your concern you little brat. “S-shut up! Just help me get out of here before I.. I.. Oh gods.” With another abrupt cramp, my body develops a mind of its own, quivering and buckling over in pure desperation. I can feel a tingling in my backside as my little remaining control wanes. Gods, what did that thing do to me? It feels like a literal mountain is about to collapse into my gut! Grrrgrrgrllll! Eclair now taking a step backwards as her sensitive ears twitch, apparently picking up what the vicious rumbling in my tummy means. “W-wait, don’t tell me you’re really about to..” I try to take a step forward, but am immediately frozen in my tracks again. My body won’t respond. I can feel my tail swaying, my knees growing weak as the pressure in my gut makes its way further down, my cheeks burning even redder as another vicious eruption of gas escapes my backside. Fffhrrrbllrttt! But what begins as just gas is quickly followed up by a warm mushy feeling that pushes and forces its way through my bottom cheeks, my legs trembling as my body outright denies all efforts to stop it. As the first bit of mess makes it way through, I can feel my pants beginning to tent the out slightly, before another cramp hits and forces my body to double over and grunt involuntarily, and then the inevitable happens. Crklrcklrckl.. Shhpfffllorrrbbbrrrrrtttt! Starting out as a small ball in the seat of my pants, it quickly erupts and balloons outwards with several noisy, crackly explosive sound effects, completely emptying my belly of all its contents. Splorrrtchh! The warm mountain of mush now completely voiding itself without mercy, spreading across my cheeks in all directions and filling almost every inch of my tightly clad behind. “Hahh.. hah.. wah..” All I can do is wail and moan out as the last of the mess settles. Gods. Somehow the first thing that comes to my mind is just.. that felt SOO good. I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. It’s only moments later, when the stench hits, and the icky warm sensation settles in, that I snap out of it.. and feel almost every drop of blood in my body rushing to my cheeks all at once. Staring in sheer shock, my green-haired companion just stutters out “Oh.. Oh m-my god. You.. you really.. Hah-hahaha! Silvie, holy crap! How do you even keep that much in you?” Reaching back, I carefully pat my backside to inspect the damage.. ..and it’s somehow even worse than I expected. My tail instinctively lowers itself in a pitiful attempt to hide my shame. By this point, I can feel tears welling up in my cheeks. God.. I haven’t had an accident since I was a little pup. Now here I am with a mountain of filth in my pants.. in front of two people I’m supposed to be the leader of. “U-uhm, S-Silvie?” I look over to see Yuki with her hand outstretched, a crystal vial with a purple liquid in hand and “antidote” written on the label. “I-it might be a bit late, but..” I just sigh and push the bottle away. “No.. I’m.. I’m fine now. Really this time. Let’s just.. get out of here, please.” Pat pat Looking up with tears still in my eyes, I see Eclair standing in front of me, ruffling my hair and her previous laugher now replaced with a gentle smile. “Don’t look sad, Silvie~. You couldn’t control it. On the bright side, maybe this will teach you to be a little more careful, huh?” Letting out a sigh, I wipe the tears from my eyes. And I’m supposed to be the party leader here.. “Y-you’re not going to tell anyone about this, right?” Eclair gives a few more gentle pats before grabbing my hand and pulling me along. “Of-course not, but, Silvie. I’m going to be honest. You reaally~ stink, so we definitely are getting you a bath before we head back into town.” Feeling fire return to my cheeks again, I barely resist giving the girl a swift kick in the rear. “O-oh shut it, like you’d smell any better in my situation!”
  5. (there are some small changes) “I see the stars” she murmured as the dark of night befell them as they lay on the hard ground. The two women stared off into the darkness as they sleep the remains of a battle crumbling beside them. *three months beforehand* The lord sat on her throne her sword and staff hanging from a armor stand. the room was pristine not a speck of dust as the lord who was a women with flowing brown hair with sharp features and was muscular but somewhat out of shape mostly with her years on the throne to blame that throne she had at the age of 23 the youngest ruler in decades She sat consumed by worry as she waited to receive a message that could be arriving anytime she was sweating with worry as so she claimed The message arrived the lord squirmed with...anticipation? Anyways the lord listened closely as a servant read the letter aloud the lord looked...worried? As she had her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth clenched halfway through the letter a faint wind passed through the room and the lords expression changed from the clenched jaw to a deep sigh with a faint smile on her face she adjusted her seat and finished listening the message confirmed it they were at war The lord excused herself claiming that she required time to develop a plan for war and she walked to her room called her most personal servant and locked the door shut The lord who’s name happened to be Melissa extended her arms letting her servant by the name of Anna Anna begann undoing the laces on the back of Melissa‘s dress letting her take deep breaths freely anna also removed the silk fabric of the garment supporting Melissa’s breasts soon Melissa’s entire top was off and Anna began removing the layered skirts that covered a simple fabric miniskirt held on by a fine leather belt that few would ever see something else even fewer wound see the skirt itself was soaked through anna who unfortunately was having to kneel to remove such garments had her head unfortunately close to the skirt that was hopelessly stained yellow Melissa shifted and said “hurry up i to...just hurry” as her legs squeezed together Anna was use to doing this as she finally finished unbuckling the belt And all that was left were the formerly white panties that were regretfully full with the mess squished almost flat against her rear but anna removed the panties and diligently wiped Melissa’s private’s until they were clean all the while Melissa tried her hardest not to let out all urine that was left as she was about to rush to the bathroom a knock echoed off the hardwood door “ queen allies have arrived and are requesting a immediately council” anna without missing a beat took something out of a nearby drawer and stated “please spread your legs my lord I highly recommend you wear this” it was a soft garment with buttons on the sides and three inch thick cloth “why must I” Melissa asked trying to escape to her bathroom “Well...ummm....comfort...and convenience” anna said not giving Melissa much time to think slipping the undergarments on and swiftly redressing the queen With that Melissa was rushed out the door to the awaiting lords Melissa attempted to walk regally but it was difficult with the unusual bulk. She sat at the large square table and joined the normal conversation minutes of this pass and something didn’t seem right to Melissa Before she had ascended to power Melissa had been a soldier and she knew when something was wrong now was one of those times as mere seconds later smoke rippled off the surface of the table yet her days on the battlefield had be more than four years ago her old habits took over Melissa rushed to the armor stand and swiftly unhooked the staff from its leather bindings she heard noises from the high smoke she took a deep breath and remembered her training “focus remove distractions”she thought as she got ready to rid herself of the bulging pain in her bladder she took a deep breath as the golden liquid spilled down but strangely none ran down her legs and at that moment she knew what the garment was. “a diaper” “haven’t worn one in a while” she relaxed her body and got ready for any oncoming threats “Hey lissa” one of her friends whispered they of course were not supposed be taking they were marching to battle lissa as most called her, was marching to her first battle as a solider she in the light plate armor alongside many others all had thoughts of glory and grander not knowing whats to come “what is it” lissa whispered back “do you have to pee” the friend asked “no” lissa lied “ok” similar small banter was shot back and forth until they saw them...the foe they marched against Lissa joined the charge holding the flimsy looking blade she had been given and stared hacking and slashing and in a blur she was separated from her unit to a near empty side of the battlefield A person in a showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women strolled along with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her and turned to see lissa all alone Lissa held her sword shakily and ran at the women who in one smooth motion took her weapon and stabbed at lissa Lissa fell back to see her Breastplate has saved her lissa sat up and scuttled back seeing the women standing above her “looks like i got you” she said in a peppy voice lissa was terrified as she stumbled backwards the poorly made pants of her uniform tearing of on a patch of briers she has gone through ripping the cheap fabric off of her chest The women approached once more and tilted her head and said in the kind of voice that a parent uses on a small child ” aww did you wet yourself” she said as lissa looked down to see the panties she was wearing as she saw more and more rippled out saturating the gray panties the women licked her lips and said “i may just enjoy your company as she got closer and lissa’s world shifted to black Melissa stood steadfast preparing for whatever came a she spotted a flash of blue and lunged slamming the blunt silver tip of the staff into the assassin the women who was wearing A showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women hit the ground with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her “You” she said “did you wet yourself this time as well” she said as she and Melissa started clashing there weapon the women’s halbert and Melissa’s staff they fought nearly as equals Lissa awoke upright naked with her hands bound somewhat comfortably below her a pit above her the women in blue sat up from a nearby chair of the log cabin they sat in “here drink this” the women demanded and lissa still half awake only started noticing her the current events the women was pouring a green liquid down her throat but lissa didn’t struggle She was too afraid the women bent over and leaned close putting her head against lissa’s stomach “do you feel it” “rippling throughout your body shaking it to its core” Lissa felt a sharp pain as the strange liquid shot through her taking anything in her stomach and shooting out into the pit in a pressurized jet after nearly two minutes of this it slowed spitting into several trails spilling down her thighs The women in blue placed a long plank of wood across the pit and began removing lissa’s bounds lissa in a moment of panic she kicked wildly knocking the women into the pit below The women screeched and was silenced with a splash lissa pulled the wood plank until it fell of into the pit hitting the women’s head knocking her out lissa fell backwards onto the floor trying to stay her breath She spent minutes before standing back up and beginning to rummage through the log cabin knowing she couldn’t leave in the nude in the first drawer she found several other skirts similar to the one the women was wearing she tried on a gray one that seemed like anyone could see up yet when she looked in the mirror to see nothing was visible she moved and shook but it always stayed down she couldn’t even lift it up it was completely stiff lissa decided it was to showy Lissa found normal foodstuffs in the kitchen and nothing of interest in the living room but she found the women’s bedroom The bedroom had many drawers and dressers along with armor stands wearing everything from full scale maile to a pink tutu lissa began looting Lissa found a simple cloth top and a knee length skirt with built in fabric panties that comfortably cradled her privates, lissa opened a drawer to see numerous folded cloth panties lissa snagged some strangely enough at the bottom of the drawer there was a false bottom, she lifted it away to see what looked like...diapers twenty of them three different types five pull-ups five with tapes on the sides and ten that didn’t connect in any logical way but as soon as she picked one up to get a better look she watched as it moved on its own and disappeared only for her to feel it slot itself in between her legs she now knew what the skirt was for. Lissa shamefully took all of the diapers for herself and there was a strange contraption that involved several ropes and a diaper a object that confirmed that this woman ether was or had contact with a magic user, they were uncommon but did exist Lissa on her way out took a halbert with her and left the cabin Melissa parried a stab from the women’s halbert and returned with full force hitting the women in the stomach and slamming her into a wall Melissa continued with a savage stream of attacks the silver tip of her staff catching the women’s clothes and tearing them off the women tried to hold it in but her body released a small amount of urine with astounding speed the women threw a object at Melissa but she knocked to back only for the contraption to spring to life with chains binding to the walls and methodically removing what was left of her skirt and her damp panties and the chains holding her still pulled an absurdly large diaper onto her with metal chains across the bottom and sides finally the contraption snapped a lock on the chained diaper so even if she did escape the diaper would stay on yet the contraption finished dangling from the ceiling, Melissa looked at the panties on the ground to see that the bottom was soaked through Melissa in a mocking tone said “aww did you wet your self” “did you piss your panties” the women quietly whispered something “what did you say”Melissa said the women spoke quietly and said “yes” she whispered “are you sure I thought you said “I was so scared i wet my panties” didn’t you” The women yelled “I WAS SO SCARED I WET MY PANTIES NOW LET ME DOW-” she said before cutting herself off and her hands shooting down to her crotch to futility stop herself but it no avail the diaper slowly turned yellow as small droplets fell to the floor “anna remove her and place her in the dungeon and don’t give her any clothes ether” said as she began dragging the other five unconscious queens to her bedchamber to awaken them Melissa had awkwardly woken up the rest of the lords one of which had wet herself queen grenson one had wet and messed herself queen mespisr Two admitted had admitted to wearing diaper queens shmits and lokedth And the last one who had clearly messed herself but denied it as she winced and sat down with a loud squelch but she continued denying it queen cosuply Grenson borrowed some of Melissa’s panties and a dress Mespisr had brought her own change shmits didn’t need a change since she didn’t wet to badly lokedth had a servant change her diaper cosuply had denied any help and took the no stops ride home without a change As soon as they all left Melissa locked her chambers and demanded for anna to undress her “whats the rush” anna asked “I need to use the restroom please hurry” “Just go thats the point of the diaper” anna said Melissa was annoyed but anna was right as she relaxed as a large bulge formed on her rear visible even with her dress on The feeling took her back to her war days Anna was undressing Melissa when the question appeared “anna where do you get this diaper on short notice” “Oh it was one of mine i used them for long trips” “Oh ok then” and they finished in silence “There is a war going on” Melissa thought sitting on her throne “here i am surrounded by guards and servants undisturbed by the people struck down on the battlefield” She had made her decision She was joining the war Part two Lissa wandered through the woods unknowingly walking in hopes of finding someone, it had been nine days since she left the cabin and she had not changed clothes the diapers being so convenient sadly she only had one slip in diaper left. No matter how long she walked none of the sounds of a bustling tavern none of the lights of a homestead just forest. She set up camp for the night laid down and lifted up her skirt let the diapers do there thing while she enjoyed the convenience of magic Later lissa laid down for rest that night as she did many nights it was cool out but she was warm enough and sleep took her Melissa listened to her adverses they were to worried but she did not heed them Melissa was on a warpath and there was no stopping her. She stood above her army on the large stage preparation for the rousing speech to rally the hunters to war. her force the land of sliavea ten thousand strong against the upstart nation of searsler that had a meager one thousand it would be simple hardly a war at all. It was an ok speech but Melissa was never one for presentation so feeling the unease she drew her wheel lock pistol and pointed it at the sky after five or six pulls of the trigger it fired the shot in some random direction the people were cheering completely sure in there leader unaware of the droplets of urine in her panties Lissa lay groggy from sleep only to be snapped awake by the sound of sticks breaking the noise getting closer and closer she scurried for her halbert soon she saw a lady in a modest green tunic and a foil at her side the women approached in a friendly manner “Ho there traveler”she said nicely “would you kindly put down the weapon” she followed up with Lissa set the halbert down and asked “can you tell me where i am” “Ok how about we play a game first” she proposed drawing her sword “A sparring match” the women offered “you win and i tell you anything you want to know and be on my way”she started but before lissa could say anything The women finished with “and if i win...you get to be my slave for six months and do whatever I please”she said with a evil gleam in her eyes “So what will it be”she said “and you up for a match” Lissa thought for a moment what could she do with a foil against a halbert that flimsy sword would snap in a second “I agree to your challenge” lissa stated confidently only seconds later feeling some... inconvenient urges “Ok now” the women said taking a stance “Ok i just need to hold it a little while longer Lissa thought to her self as she brandished the halbert the lady snapped into action Lunging strait at lissa, lissa of course blocked with her halbert the women stopped short the tip of her blade pushed against the wooden shaft of the halbert yet despite her failed attack she grinned and said “do you know the smallest splinter in wood can split the entire shaft” lissa was confused for a moment before the women trusted her blade the wooden shaft reduced to splinters lissa jumped sputtering urine then she remembered she was wearing a diaper she took a deep breath and let it go the fabric clinging wetly to her privates. soon the diaper full settled between her legs,she got ready and went on the offensive Melissa entered the tailors “I need an outfit refitted” she stated “right away” the cleck replied and funneled her into the backrooms she had known this tailor for years. Heiro silver was a youth of 24 well dressed and had a head of purple hair that he spent to much money on purple dye keeping it that color. he and Melissa had been on and off for about six years she was wearing “do you mind” he asked “never for you” she replied. he skillfully undid the lace and had the outfit off in minutes “you still can be My servant” she offered “no I could never do that it would upset my father we have a very proud bloodline as tailors” he knelt down to remove her skirt “anyways hows yo-“ he cut himself off after removing her underskirt and getting a fill view of the numerous yellow stains on her white panties “care to explain” theo asked politely “Its been a...minor problem recently” she explained Heiro sighed and said “I have something for this” and he left the room and returned with a pile of clothes “first please change out of those” he said handing her a pair of clean panties and he pulled a curtain and let her change she stepped out and stretched a minute “they feel...bulky” she said “they will absorb and small...mishaps and these” he said pulling a extremely thick cloth diaper out of the pile “they will be hard to walk with but for a long ride they are perfect” “and lastly” he pulled out a thinner pull on diaper “for more active use” her finished fitted her armor “you have some rust on the thigh plates make sure to avoid we-“ he cut himself off again and rushed her out Lissa lunged her weapon getting shorter and shorter with each attack. The women struck with her blade lissa ducked to the side and elbowed her in the back the womenfell to her knees lissa took a few steps forward her back to the women suddenly...click all of lissa’s muscles tensed as she turned around and saw the women holding a wheel lock pistol that had misfired with the morning dew Lissa ran at the women who stumbled across the wet grass her tunic riding high she slipped fell on her face giving lissa a clear view of her panties that happened to have warm piss spilling down her thighs as a large bulge slowly formed in the back of her panties lissa got ready to leave her camp packed and the women tied to a tree And they both continued there journeys
  6. A little Patented warning: There is some bullying, and it serves as a central point of the story, so if that's a turn off, I understand. However, these is no violence or any physical abuse or anything of the like, as well as no abusive talk or fucked up shit. It's quite tame, but the warning is here in case it deflates your bratwurst. ______________________________________________________________________________________ Lacey Emon, Daughter of Lord Emon, had never seen the inside of a prison. The only thing she knew about them were from the tales her family’s help told her. Based on those she imagined they were squalid, decayed, some place fitting for a pit where the criminals of Willoworth ended up. What she saw as she was guided through the stone corridors towards her cell was much worse - a horrid, grimy pit of a place, with the constant smell of mold and a lingering damp that made the tip of her nose wet. “What’s this one in for” Asked one of the guards in passing, a thick man wrapped up in layers of cloth and metal armour, scratching the stubble of his fat chin. “Another rogue mage - tore a rift open over the marketplace.” The guard leading her replied. “I’m not a rogue mage.” Lacey again tried to inform her, but for the second time today she was ignored. “Please, this is all a misunderst-” “Aye, aye. Let’s get going, criminal.” The guard nudged her shoulder, spurring on down the damp corridors. They passed halls of prisons cells, small chambers of stone barred off by strong steel bars. The torches on the walls burned, creating a hazy mist and a strong smell of burning wood. Through the ooze-filled cracks in the stone, laughter and joy could be heard in the city streets. For Lacey, it was like she had entered a different world, the walls only giving her a taste of the freedom that existed beyond them. “Here we are.” The guard said with a low growl, swinging open a barred steel door, the sound echoing throughout the prison. She put both her hands around Lacey’s shoulders and span her around. She unlocked the shackles around her wrists. They fell from her skinny arms and hit the stone with a metallic clank that echoed through the windward halls. Now that she had been freed from those horrid iron shackles, Lacey turned to guard again and attempted to protest her innocence. “Please, listen to me this time before you throw me in… there.” She waved a hand frantically toward the dark cell, where an unpleasant dripping emerged. “I’m not a rogue mage…” She started, pressing her palms together as if she was in prayer. Before she could speak any words in her defense, the guard showed her blatant lack of interest, scratching her arse with her baton. All this talk of defense seemed to be infuriating her, her face wading through the motions of impatience, her brow furrowed and a frustrated scowl fixed on her fat face. Of course she wouldn’t be believed. No girl who looked as cute and soft-faced as Lacey could convince a guard she was anything but a mage. Her soft, blushing cheeks, sharp diamond eyes and thin, but well-endowed frame spoke out to any commoner that she was either of noble birth… or a mage. And Nobility do not fall through rogue portals. The guard had heard enough and she pushed Lacey into her cell before she could say another word. She slammed the door shut, sliding the steel door along the rail until it rattled the wall. This was it - Lacey Emon, daughter of Lord Emon had been arrested. But being locked behind a steel door wasn’t going to deter Lacey. She was determined to try and tell her story, regardless of who it was she told or how bizarre it sounded. She grabbed the cold steel bars of the door and shook them. “If you’d just listen to me, you’d understand that I’m…” Finally, the guard had enough, growing frustrated and reaching for her baton. She grabbed it by the end she scratched her arse with and twirled around. Before Lacey could even flinch, she struck the steel bars with her baton. CLAAAANG! The bars rattled, shaking everything, even the stone. It was enough to shake the whole prison, but most importantly, it was enough to shut Lacey up. She fell silent the split second she heard that steel shattering clang ring out in her ears. “I’ll hear no more of your protesting, criminal.” The guard hissed, baton clutched firmly in her hand, ready to strike the metal again at a moments notice. There was anger brewing on her freckled face, and Lacey didn’t want to rile her up any more. She backed away slowly, staring into the guards wide, unblinking eyes. Not another word was said, the only sound was the sheepish steps of Lacey’s boots tapping on the stone. She backed up slowly, tiptoeing until she bumped her head against something. It was soft, with a small cleft that her head nearly sank into. It was like she’d hit her head against a pillow. “Well, who have we here?” A girl with a strong northern voice asked with a menacing tone, whispering quietly into Lacey’s ear. Lacey stood frozen in place, her heart pounding fiercely against her chest. Her knees were trembling. Had it suddenly gotten colder? She spun around slowly, coming face to face with the girl who whispered into her ear. At first glance, it was the girls heaving chest that drew her gaze. Only now was it obvious that it was her breasts that she had bumped into. She needed to look up to see the girls face. Her racing heart was beating faster, almost bursting from her chest. She noted the girls height, and how much taller she was - at least a head above her, with strong arms that she kept crossed, holding up her heaving breasts On her face, she wore a long, menacing grin, showing her teeth like a beast ready to devour its prey. Her eyes were hidden behind her fringe, like a curtain of black it was, stopping just on the top of her sharp nose. Her eyes were completely lost beneath her greasy black curtain of hair, which only added to the menacing aura that she presented herself with. The girl leant in, flexing her tremendous height over Lacey. Her nostrils flared up, like a confused creature sniffing at another. “We haven’t been introduced and already you’re trying to cop a feel.” She chuckled, her smile growing, and bit at the air, getting a touch too close. Lacey recoiled backwards once again, this time away from the girl. “That’s your new cellmate, Billie. Do try to behave with her.” The guard told her. “My new cellmate…” The girl’s grin widened again and she stepped forward, offering one hand to Lacey. “There’s no need to shaking, New Blood.” There was a piercing glare beneath that fringe; Lacey could feel it. “So, what’s your name?” With anxiously shivering hands, Lacey reached out and accepted Billie’s handshake. “L-Lacey.” “Billie.” The girl replied, smiling. Her handshake was firm, but friendly. Her smile was warm, even with a head of greasy black hair. But that friendly air the girl shrouded herself in was short-lived. “Now listen here, New Blood.” Billie’s face drained, leaving a stern, breaking stare. She leant in and whispered into Lacey’s ear. “I’m in charge here, what I say goes, is that understood?” Shaking, lacking the courage to muster anything beyond a whimper, Lacey nodded. “Heh…” Billie released her and pushed her backwards before brushing off her jacket. “Good. Stay quiet and we won’t have a problem.” After their less than desirable introduction was done, Lacey climbed up onto the top bunk and sat there quietly, wondering just how she’d gotten into this situation. For the next few hours, Lacey sat in silence, watching the world pass by from the barred window of her cell. Sometimes she’d listen to her cellmate who would be dealing with other inmates and on one occasion a guard who came to the door. She didn’t know what they were up to, and she didn’t care. She followed Billie’s orders to a tee - Staying quiet. Every now and then the guards would come by with water for both girls and Lacey gladly took it. She didn’t know if this was routine or Billie’s doing but again she didn’t care. She was happy to have something to fill her empty gut and she gulped it down gleefully every time it came. Finally, the day had passed. The clock in Willoworth Town Square rang for nine o’clock. Amidst the echoing chimes of the bells, something banged against the bars of the cell. “Alright, come on girls.” It was a guard, a tall, skinny woman with ginger hair wrapped up in a bun, tapping her baton against the steel bars. Billie, who was relaxing on her bed, counting out her earnings from the day, looked up at the guard and huffed with fair relief. “Finally… it’s about time.” She cursed, stifling some discomfort with a tight squeeze of her thighs. “I’ve been bursting for the last hour.” “Well the quicker you get your trousers on, Billie, the sooner we can get going.” The guard ran her baton along the bars again. “You, in the top bunk, get moving.” Lacey peeked over the edge of her bed, unsure what was happening. “Where are we going?” She asked, her voice reduced to a nervous squeak as both the guard and Billie looked up at her. From behind the curtain of her long black hair, Billie glared. She pulled up her trousers, squeezing her plump thighs and round butt into them and buckling up her belt. The whole time she didn’t stop looking at Lacey. “You really are a new blood…” She said quietly, sounding somewhat disappointed. “You didn’t hear? We’re being released.” She told Lacey, perking up with a dumb smile. “R-Really?” Lacey shot up, the excitement causing her skin to prickle. “Pfft!” Billie tried, and failed to stifle her snickering. She chuffed, and finally she couldn’t hold her laughter back, throwing an arm over her face and bursting out laughing. “No, you dolt! She’s taking us to the privy.” Her laughter grew and after a few seconds, Billie froze, her gut-splitting snickers ceasing in an instant. In what seemed like a desperate moment, Billie hobbled on her feet, shaking like her legs could no longer support her. She pressed her thighs together, the fabric of her trousers tightening around her crotch and defining the outlines of her womanhood. “Alright, come on…” She hissed, a crack in her vice. “I’m dying for a slash. Let’s go before I piss myself.” After the horrendous day she’d had, Lacey too welcomed a walk to the privy. Their cell had nowhere to spend a penny, save for a rusty old bucket that Lacey recoiled at when she was first feeling a niggle from her bladder and it seemed this would be her only time to use proper facilities for the day. At least being allowed to use the privy would give her some privacy, as well as some time away from her cell, from the lumpy mattress she’d been sitting on… and from Billie. All she had to pass the time was a glass of water to quietly nurse. When her glass was empty, it was about time for it to be refilled. When it was dinner time, she hardly had the stomach to eat the gruel they prepared for two reasons; one of them being that she didn’t wish to make a sloppy deposit in that filthy bucket in the corner of her cell. Billie happily scarfed down her meal, and Lacey’s, and the only thanks she got was Billie lifting her leg and ripping a fart so loud it rattled the wooden frame of their bunk bed. She wafted the air, giggling to herself like a juvenile and jesting that she was lucky it was a dry fart. It had been a whole day since Lacey had relieved herself; the shock of being locked up was enough to keep her mind off her bladder, but after all of that water, she was eager to sit down and take a pee. She scrambled down from the top bunk, brushed the dust from her dress and followed Billie out of the cell, listening to the steel door of their cell slamming shut behind them. The privy was located at the other end of the prison, and the long walk to it proved to be gruelling. The girls were escorted by two guards who couldn’t care less about Billie hobeling about desperately. They were happy to drag out the walk, and it felt like an eternity. Lacey tread slowly while Billie hobbled along beside her, constantly moaning about how she was about to water her skivvies. Finally, it got to be too much for her and she shoved a hand between her legs, grinning as she fondled her lower lips in an effort to stop her waters from flowing. Lacey however composed herself well in the eyes of company. It was a well-learned trait from her years and years of dealing with the pompous elite that her father associated with. There had been times she felt like she was about to burst, but she’d be made to stand there, legs crossed and her lips quivering until her father was done talking. This situation of secrecy reminded her of a time when she was younger, accompanying her Father to a formal meeting at a friends manor. The only thing Lacey could do while her Father droned on was drink glass after glass of juice until the two litre jug was empty. When she’d emptied the jug at last, she immediately realized that drinking so much was not a good idea. She’d grown desperate, almost bursting, to pee. Two litres of fruit juice had settled comfortably in her bladder and she needed somewhere to let it out. But it was a formal affair, and she knew she couldn’t openly announce that she needed to pee. Had she been familiar with the house, she may have wandered off to the lavatory herself, but she wasn’t, meaning she was forced to keep herself composed like a Lady should despite her growing urges. Her father kept talking, droning on about something or other, while Lacey stood by his side smiling. But beneath her formal attire was a girl squirming, her legs practically wrapped around one another as her bladder pushed against her, demanding relief. She’d lost count of how much time had passed before her Father waved goodbye to this friend and finally he allowed Lacey to be excused for the long carriage ride home. For the gruelling thirty minutes that she’d counted, nobody had been aware that the daughter of Lord Emon was just one misplaced step away from soiling her silken frillies. The carriage ride home took her through an unusually bumpy stretch of muddied roads, and with each bump knocking her bladder, she finally cracked. She couldn’t hold it any longer, each bump was just breaking her will down like a hammer against a wall. She cried to her carriage driver to pull over and without saying a word why, leapt out, sprinting toward a nearby grove, her whole face soaked in sweat, her breathing ragged and heavy as she flung up the hem of her dress and squatted down in a patch of petunias. However, just because she composed herself well, that did not mean Lacey was feeling any differently from Billie. Beneath her long skirt, she was holding back a fierce flood that left her legs trembling. All that water had hit her at once, like a violent wave striking the side of a boat. Finally, they arrived. An old wooden door at the end of the dimly lit hallway awaited them. From where they were standing Lacey could smell the privy and it was far from a bed of roses. She stuck out a tongue in disgust and covered her nose, refusing to pollute her nostrils with another sniff of foul air. That smell alone had her thinking if she really, REALLY needed to relieve herself. Never had she had to use such squalid facilities. A lady, even the bastard of Lord Emon, would not be caught dead submitting her bare arse to such a filthy box with her skirt hiked up and her silky delicates so near a disgusting floor. The thought of using the privy, especially since she hadn’t taken a pee since morning, was a sweet one that had Lacey’s lips curling with glee. In her head, she was envisioning the blissful relief she’d soon be feeling. But on the surface, she kept her expression blank, concealed beneath her auburn hair. Nobody but her needed to know how desperately she needed this. “Oh, finally~” Billie moaned, a crooked smile of pure bliss forming as she laid eyes on the door to the privy. She pushed the guards aside and rushed toward the door with her hands stuffed into the seat of her knickers. “Hey! Come on and get this door unlocked!” She yelled, pulling at the old lock with her free hand. Both guards exchanged frustrated glances and one of them made their way forward. She reached into the pocket of her long blue coat and took out an old rusty key. She began to twirl it, teasing Billie with the sight of it, smirking as she stared, almost hypnotised by it. Lacey waddled up behind them, shuffling uncomfortably as she too felt the growing pressure on her maidenly spout. She so desperately wanted to grab herself just like Billie had, but she couldn’t, she had too much pride for a childish potty dance. “Come on! Come on! Come ooooon!” Billie continued to cry, her face seething with impatience and riving at the locked door with both hands now. Her cheeks were burning a bright red and she held a pained expression on her sharp face, grinding her teeth. “I’m seriously about to go in my skivvies here!” The guard didn’t really care. Slowly, she leant in beside the lock and started fiddling with the ring that her keys were on. She continued to waste time and tease both girls by slowly picking out the right key and then slowly bringing it up to the lock. The keys rattled, clinking against one another, the sounds teasing both Lacey and Billie. They were forced to watch, both girls squirming in agonizing discomfort as the guard moved at her own leisurely pace. Lacey was still the better composed of the duo, and it was glaringly obvious that she didn’t have to pee nearly half as desperately as Billie, who at this point was unbuttoning her trousers to give the bulge of her bladder some breathing room. “Come on! Speed up!” Billie started to yell, her lips quivering as her fingers danced between the fabric of her trousers. “Get this door open or I’m pissing on the floor!” “Try it.” The guard mumbled under her breath. “I fucking will.” Billie hissed back. Ten seconds passed. Ten long, torturous seconds watching the guard raise her key to the lock, pretending to position it correctly, all while taking in a somewhat unethical pleasure in watching the two girls squirm. She turned the key and the lock clicked. The door swung open and beyond it was a sight that both girls savoured with an audible sigh - The privy. “Two minutes. Go.” The guard ordered, pointing to the box at the back of the room. “About time! I’ve got to piss like a racehorse!” Billie cried and pushed Lacey aside, rushing into the privy with ungodly speed. “W-Wait… we only get two minutes?” Lacey inquired, wondering if that was even enough time for them both to relieve themselves. What if they had to poop? Which thankfully wasn’t the case... At least for Lacey, but that didn’t stop her thinking about it. Before the guard could answer, Billie waddled back out, grabbed Lacey’s dress and pulled her into the privy. “G-Get in here.” She hissed through her teeth. The door slammed shut and the guard told them they now had only one minute and fifty seconds remaining. The privy was in a small room, and only after she was pulled into it and with the handle of the door fixed firmly between her buttcheeks, nearly violating her rear hole, did Lacey realize it wasn’t big enough to accommodate both girls. It was uncomfortable, and it was only made worse that she was packed in with a girl twice her size. A girl twice her size who was shuffling around, moaning and struggling to make space for herself so she could get her trousers down. It took Billie a few seconds, and through her struggle to get her knickers down she didn’t stay quiet. She moaned in discomfort and cursed like a sailor who’d stubbed his toe, all while wrestling the tight fabric of her trousers. Finally, she managed to get pull them down, though only an inch, revealing a slither of her buttcrack. She then managed, after banging herself against the wall, to pull them down around her knees. “Oooooh…” She moaned in success, jiggling her legs. This was when Lacey learned that Billie didn’t wear knickers, nor did she care about sharing a privy with company as she bent over, spreading her cheeks and giving Lacey an unflattering close up of her blinking brown eye. Lacey saw Billie’s rear hole give her a solemn wink, and she covered her eyes, hoping that she was quick enough to protect her innocence. She’d never had the… pleasure of seeing another girls butthole, and this wasn’t going to be her first experience. With her trousers wrapped around her knees, Billie spun herself around and hovered herself over the hole cut out on the top of the box. She wiggled her, aiming herself and plopped herself down over it, moaning in bliss as the fat of her buttcheeks sunk into the hole. The second she plopped herself down on the box, the clear sounds of hissing resonated in the small chamber. Lacey felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she gulped. That was the unmistakable sound of pissing, and she couldn’t believe she was sharing a privy with another girl while she relieved herself. “Oooooooh~ Ahhhhhh~” Billie moaned, the twisted grimace of pain on her face relaxed until she gave a dumb, relieved grin. “That’s heaven~” She sighed, leaning back and resting herself against the wall, spreading her legs. The feeling of relief was unmatched, unlike anything Billie had ever felt before. She felt her whole body grow numb, her legs growing wobbly like jelly. The relief could be felt right between her legs, from the spout where her water poured out like a bursting dam. A jolt of pure pleasure ran up her back, causing her to shudder. “Uuuu~” She sat, legs spread, revealing her ladyhood and the golden rainfall that fell from the slit between her legs. A few stray drops dribbled from a tuft of her pubic hair. Her stream intensified, a golden rain, long and thick, smattered the inside of the box and splashed her thighs with a strong sprinkling of pee while the rest fell into the murky waters below with quite the audible piddling. It sounded like she’d been holding the entire ocean inside her for the whole day. Billie may have been a tall girl, but even she couldn’t contain much in her bladder. Her stream seemed to never end. In fact, it seemed to grow in intensity, multiple streams sputtering from the pale slit between her thighs. Such delightful sounds. Lacey couldn’t help herself and soon she found herself gawking, watching Billie’s legs tremble gleefully as a shower of steaming piss fell into the darkness below. Pressed against the hole, her looks much pudgier than they really were. She certainly hadn’t been lying - she did have to piss like a racehorse. Like seven racehorses even. The small room resonated with an ever-growing hissing as her piss kept coming, pouring from her maidenly spigot like somebody had left her tap running. Suddenly, with a sharp-toothed grin, Billie clasped her legs shut, the fat of her thighs jiggling softly as she shielded her immodesties from Lacey’s leering eyes. Even when Lacey couldn’t see, she could still hear, listening to the muffled splatters of piss washing wood. It was still quite loud, even when it was muffled by the heft of Billie’s well-endowed thighs. “If you want to keep looking, it’s going to cost you.” Billie swept aside her fringe, showing her emerald eyes for the first time. She glared, her eyes burning as she gazed at Lacey. “I-I’m not.” Muttered Lacey, feeling a burning embarrassment that made her cheeks pink. There was nowhere else to look, but finally she forced herself to look away and up at the ceiling. At least a minute had passed before Billie finally finished. Lacey only knew a minute had passed because she’d been trying to keep count so she could know how much time she would have to pee, but she’d lost count after she started leering between Billie’s legs. The watery sounds of piss spraying against splintered wood came to a grand conclusion after what felt like an eternity to Billie. Now there was only silence, occasionally a dribble or two, and Billie let out a sigh of relief and shuddered, noting that it had been a good, and desperately needed piss. With a dopey grin, she clicked the heels of her boots together and played with a tissue in her hands for a second, much to Lacey’s dismay as each second she fiddled with that tissue was a second she could be using to pee. Billie leant back and gave her dripping wet lips a thorough wipe. “All done.” She said, throwing the damp tissue between her legs to join the rest of her waste. She got up from the privy and bent down to pull her trousers up. Again, she struggled to pull them up, wrestling with them and cursing quietly while her hands pulled at them. While she pulled her trousers up, Lacey looked past her and toward the wooden box. She could see the steam rising where Billie had doused the wooden insides. The smell of fresh piss was quite strong. A prison privy - this kind of foul deed would follow her for the rest of her life. She still flared up a bright red thinking about the petunias she peed on a few summers ago. “I need to go too.” Lacey squeaked and began her grand quest to inch past the girl twice her size. But before she could inch past Billie, a hand came toward her, barely missing her. The entire room shook. A fist struck the stone wall inches away from her face, hitting it with enough strength to leave a mark. Lacey leapt back, and the shock of almost being socked by a mighty fist caused a tremble in her bladder that was nearly enough for her to leak. “Where do you think you’re going?” Billie growled in a low, deep voice. Lacey felt her heart pounding against her chest, pure fear was dominating her body. “I… I’m using the privy.” She squeaked through a fearfully formed lump in her throat. That didn’t seem a convincing answer to Billie, who's dumb grin shifted into some far more malevolent, like a creature changing faces she drew a nefarious gaze. “I don’t believe I said you were allowed to use it.” Her smile had grown sinister, as if the devil himself were grinning. “Around here, if you want to piss, there’s a toll to pay.” “W-What toll?” Lacey stammered, struggling to remember a single utterance of a toll. “Y-You didn’t m-mention a toll.” Her legs were trembling, and she grew cold. “Didn’t I say earlier that I was in charge around here? If I say there’s a toll…” Billie paused, brushing aside her fringe and showing her glaring eyes. “There’s a toll. And it’s five silver.” “F-Five silver? To use the privy?” Lacey blurted out, struggling to keep her voice down. She’d never heard such a ridiculous thing in her life. But conversation wouldn’t suffice for Billie, who unfurled her free hand while the other continued to block off Lacey from getting to the privy. “Five silver.” She repeated. Lacey felt an unpleasant wince from her bladder that rocked her whole body. Perhaps it was from the stress of this torrid situation. She doubled over, pressing her hand against her dress and whimpered softly. This was teasing, more so than her bulging bladder could bear right now - the privy was inches from her and she found herself being barred from using it by a girl twice her size who demanded payment like some kind of Slumlord. “I… I don’t have five silver.” Lacey admitted through the weakest of whimpers. Suddenly, a horrendous shudder had her whole body shivering. Lacey bit her lip, her bladder trembling. Sweet relief was an inch away, and it was driving her crazy. She was itching, more than anything, to get her butt seated over that hole and just release, letting it all flow out of her. But it wasn’t meant to be, not while Billie was between her and the privy. Billie’s grin faded and she tilted her head, staring longingly toward Lacey like she was disappointed. “No silver. No privy.” She said with a solemn shrug of her shoulders. There wasn’t even the tiniest crumb of care for her cellmate, who stood doubled, pressing her hands deeper against the crotch of her skirt. “You can’t c-charge someone to pee!” Lacey continued to protest, knowing she was just wasting her time. “Oh, I can.” Billie said menacingly, leaning in, her warm breath heaving on Lacey’s neck. Her grin grew and she again uncovered her eyes. “Or else… this happens.” “What happens?” Lacey feared to ask, but she inquired anyway, her voice trembling as she feared the unexpected. There was silence, and a few seconds passed. Suddenly, there was a knock against the door, a loud banging that ruptured the steel. “Okay girls! Your two minutes are up! Let’s go!” It was only the guard, who continued to pommel the door and demand that the girls button up their kegs and leave the privy. To hear it was only the guard was relief to Lacey, who took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. The way Billie had spoken, she feared it was something far more sinister. The guard struck the door again. “Come on! Knickers up girls!” “Time’s up.” Billie giggled. She was right, and Lacey hated that she was right - Time was up. Lacey could only gulp, her face drawing a pale colour as the guard continued to bang on the door. This wasn’t fair, not in the slightest - she hadn’t even gotten to pee yet. She was still dying to go, her bladder unrelieved, but she knew the guards wouldn’t care. The guard kept banging, and banging, and banging. She had no choice but to come out, leaving behind the privy. The thought of having to leave the privy unrelieved did nothing but conjure up an undesirable feeling of fullness that caused the watery contents of her bladder to push down on her poor spout. Billie swept aside her fringe, and with a teasing smile gestured to the door with her eyes. “Better not keep her waiting. You don’t want yard duty.” Both girls, though it was only Billie who’d taken a piss, were done. Lacey left first, waddling out, struggling to keep her composure from cracking beneath heavy desperation. She tried to stand up straight, hiding her urge for a pee from the guards. Beneath her dress, her thighs were shaking, beads of sweat trickling down her bare legs. Her whole body had seized up, the pressure on her muscles was too much and she struggled to hold it. She could feel the sheer volume of her bladder pushing down against her maidenly spout, the only thing stopping a leak was willpower. She had no choice but to endure it. For now, she clenched any muscles she could, making sure her whole body was seized up. She felt the unpleasant twitches of her anus as she clenched. The guards were waiting, and the ginger haired warden looked her in the eyes, glaring with some uncertainty. “Done?” She asked. She wasn’t, but she couldn’t say anything. She knew they wouldn’t care. What was it to them that one of the prisoners didn’t drop her knickers and piss within their arbitrary time limit? “D-Done.” Lacey answered with a strained voice, gritting her teeth as she spoke. “And Billie?” The other guard, tapping her fingers against her baton. Before Lacey could answer, the privy door swung open and Billie emerged, buttoning up her trousers and meeting the guards with a shining smile, her eyes once again hidden beneath her fringe. “Right here.” She replied cheerily, stretching out her arms. “Well that was certainly refreshing, nothing better than a good piss before bed.” “You’re all done then, Billie?” The guard asked again. “Yep. Tank’s empty and I’m ready for bed.” She patted her pudgy tummy and sighed. “You too?” The guard raised her baton in Lacey’s direction. Again, before Lacey could reply, she was interrupted as Billie wrapped her arm around her shoulder and pulled Lacey close, bringing her face delightfully close to her heaving chest. “She’d done too.” She pet Lacey’s stomach, causing her bladder to twinge and Lacey to whimper quietly. The guards didn’t seem to notice the discomfort she was in and they walked the girls back to their cell. Again, they were led with one guard in front and the other behind. As they walked past the courtyard, Billie walked up beside Lacey and whispered in her ear. “No need to worry. They’ll be back to take us to the privy… in the morning.” She cackled mockingly and patted Lacey on the back, again stirring her bladder, stirring violent discomfort between her legs. “In the morning…” Lacey whimpered, the very thought of enduring a whole night was enough to make her spigot quiver feverishly. A whole night lying in bed, restrained to her cell, denied the relief her bladder so sorely needed. They returned to their cell, the guards slammed the door shut and left the girls to their beds. Billie threw off her trousers, kicked them across the room, once again showing off her long soft legs and jumped onto her bed. She lifted her legs up, again giving Lacey an unflattering view of wincing hole, and turned on her side. “Have a fun sleep, and make sure you don’t piss the bed.” She cackled. Lacey ignored her, though she couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t wet the bed, not right now. But she didn’t want to think about it. She climbed up the ladder to her bed and lay down on the lumpy mattress. Without anybody to see, Lacey finally lifted her dress and lay there with her hands sandwiched between her thighs, holding herself. At night the city was quiet. Unnervingly so. Nothing could be heard but the cawing of the crows in a nearby belltower. The streets were still, the only motion came from the flickers of the flames in the lanterns, and the buildings were dark, their curtains pulled over and the lights out for the night. There was nothing for a girl to do but be deep within her own thoughts. Unfortunately for Lacey, who lay there with her hands still sandwiched between her thighs, her fingers and palms hot and clammy with sweat, she struggled to find anything pleasant in her thoughts. Her mind was firmly fixed on one thing and anything she thought of brought her back to one thing - the dam that was about to burst in her knickers. Thoughts of the pleasant countryside beside her family home became nothing more than thoughts of the long, stretching grass, the precious privacy they offered, perfect for a desperate girl to hike up her dress and squat down in. She recoiled at the thoughts in her head, wrapped up thinking about herself squatting down in a tall patch of grass, the wind blowing against her nethers as she took a long, relieving pee outdoors. Thoughts of her days to the market with the maids quickly delved down into visions of herself crouched behind one of the old buildings, marking the old stone wall with a nice, hot stream of piss in the cold winter air. It was all too much; for both Lacey and her bladder to bear. Eventually, she stopped thinking. She lay awake, staring up at the stone ceiling of her cell. Beneath her in the bottom bunk, Billie was fast asleep. Even if she wasn’t plagued by the bursting keg that was her bladder, Lacey felt she would’ve found it difficult with that “creature” sleeping in the bottom bunk. She snored like a beast possessed, growling and sometimes snarling in her sleep and that still was not the worst of it; Every now and then she’d grunt and rip a fart so violent it would rattle their bed and once she was done she’d sigh happily and start snoring once more. And then, Lacey started thinking once again. Billie - she was in this situation because of Billie. What she wouldn’t give to have shown some bravery earlier, some balls, to have pushed that brutish bully aside, telling her to stuff that toll where the sun don’t shine, and sat down on the privy to a long-awaited pee without listening to a single word of that toll nonsense. But she wasn’t that kind of girl. She was nothing like her siblings; she couldn’t handle confrontation, she never showed the courage or resolve they did. If it had been either of them, they would have thrown Billie out of that privy with her trousers still wrapped around her ankles. Once again, perhaps for the fifth time tonight, Lacey felt the weight in her bladder pushing down on her maidenhood. She bit down on her lower lip, cringing at the overwhelming discomfort. It was closer to pain than anything she’d felt tonight. She had to do something, she could feel her spigot twitching, growing closer to a relieving leak. In silence, she lifted the hem of her dress and lowered her hand, pulling aside the silk of her knickers and slipping the tips of her fingers between her lower lips, feeling the clammy heat against them. With a soft whimper as she entered herself, she pressed her fingers against the soft pink of her maidenly spigot and pushed them against herself. It offered her some relief, but it wasn’t enough. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping her hands between them. Her legs were hot, the feeling of sweaty fat wet against her wrists. There was no way Lacey could do this all night - writhing in her bed with her fingers pressed between her lower lips, fingering her maidenly spigot. It burned, she could feel the weight of the water in her bladder pushing down on maidenhood again. She grimaced, letting out a soft moan as a strong wave swept over her whole body, causing her to press the palm of her hand against herself. “Uuuu…” She whimpered, shuddered like she was cold, and turned on her back. It was getting worse. She was fighting a war against herself, and the pushes were getting worse. The waves of desperate that sent her into feverish fits were close to breaking her. Her bladder was begging for relief, and she was only one bad shiver away from leaking. At best, Lacey imagined she could only last another half hour or so, and that’s being generous. She could feel it between the soft shivers of her clammy thighs; all it would take was a wave strong enough and her whole body would cave, her muscles would give in to the temptation of sweet watery relief and she’d soil herself. There was no choice: If she wouldn’t be allowed to use the privy until morning, then she’d have to find… other methods of relieving herself. Thankfully, there was one solution that Lacey had been eyeing up for a while, though she detested the idea - An old rusted bucket in the middle of her cell. She rolled over onto her side and gazed at the bucket, staring at the splintered wood in the moonlight. It was a sight as tempting as any, one that made Lacey’s lip quiver as it conjured thoughts of sweet relief. “That’s w-what it’s there for… r-right?” She told herself. Never in her life had she used a bucket as a lavatory, and up until now, right when she was on the verge of yellowing her pristine silken knickers, she’d never entertained the idea. They weren’t acceptable vessels for a lady to tinkle in, but desperate times called for desperate measures and as she felt an impatient twinge between her legs, Lacey knew this was as desperate a time as any. “I’m going to do it…” She whispered, steeling herself from the shame of what was to come. After taking a deep breath, she threw aside her sheets and shifted slowly across her bed and toward the ladder. She climbed down, one hand on the ladder and the other between her legs, plugging her spigot. The snoring beast did not stir in the bed beneath her. Billie lay unconscious, her blanket thrown aside, draped on the floor, revealing her naked legs glimmering in the moonlight. It appears she didn’t enjoy sleeping with her knickers on either, the only covering she had between her legs was the hem of her long white tunic and even then Lacey could still see tufts of black pubic hair above her slit. It seems didn’t enjoy shaving either. Lacey slowly placed a foot on the floor, and immediately recoiled in surprise as her bare feet met with stone as cold as ice. “Eep.” She cried out, suppressing it by covering her mouth. Still, Billie didn’t budge at the sound. She groaned, her lips twitching, and rolled on her side. She reached behind her and stuck a hand between her round, pudgy cheeks. She started to scratch her arse, digging her fingers deeper between her cheeks and giving her hole a good scratch. Her dumb grin returned as her fingers seemed to go deeper than Lacey cared to think about. While Billie scratched her arse, Lacey stood in the shadows, waiting for her to stop. She’d stopped moving, freezing in place the second she’d heard Billie stirring. “Oooh…” Billie sighed, pulling her hand out from between her cheeks and rolling over onto her other side, now exposing her pale arse to the moonlight. “Okay.” Lacey sighed, wiping a nervous bead of sweat from her forehead. “Uuu… I really need to pee.” She whimpered, her clammy thighs quivering, struggling to support her weight. She stared at the bucket across the room, grinning as she fantasized about the relief she was about to experience. Just a few steps and she could pee to her heart’s content. However, upon taking her first step, she felt something grab her wrist. She had no idea what it was, and the only response Lacey could muster was to leap up in fright. It took all of her strength, both mentally and physically to stop a fearful leak from escaping. She yelped, her whole going cold. Once again she stood frozen in fear, the only part of her that moved during this frightful ordeal were her lower lips, quivering as they longed for that first taste of relief. “Where are you off too?” It was Billie, and she didn’t sound too happy. Like a rat caught in a trap, Lacey didn’t move. She remained silent, refusing to make any sound even as Billie tightened her grip around her delicate wrist. The only response Lacey could muster was to bite her lip. Fear was causing her to struggle, wrapping her tongue up in knots like a ripe. She couldn’t speak a word. “Out with it!” Billie yelled, tightening her grip around Lacey’s wrist. “I… I need to relieve myself…” Lacey finally mustered the courage to speak, though she was timid like a mouse. “Is that so?” Billie relinquished her grip on Lacey’s wrist and pushed her back. Judging by how she spoke, Lacey could tell she was grinning, and not in a friendly way. “Well, we’re not allowed to use the privy until morning, so where are you going to do it?” “I…” Lacey smacked her lips, feeling her mouth go dry. “I… was going to go in the… in the bucket.” Never had any words sounded so shameful - A Lady, a Noble, a child of Lord Emon and she was forced to admit to a commoner that she intended to take a pee into a rusty old bucket. The very instant she heard Lacey say the word bucket, Billie’s grin grew from ear to ear, the moonlight adding a sinister air to her smile. It harboured intentions that Lacey couldn’t even begin to imagine. “That bucket over there?” Bille said, pointing a finger toward the bucket. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’m quite fond of that bucket. It means quite a lot to me.” “I… what?” Lacey had no idea how to reply. What kind of person was sentimental for a rancid old piss bucket? What kind of nut job had she been locked up with. “But I suppose if you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. You’re more than welcome to use it.” She grabbed Lacey’s arm again and this time pulled herself toward her. “For three silver.” “E-Excuse me?” Lacey again was lost for words, but deep down she knew she should’ve expected this. This wasn’t the first time Billie had tried to get money out of her. Still, even when she heard it the second time, that did not stop it from sounding as absurd as hearing it for the first time. “You heard me.” Billie giggled. “The bucket costs three silver.” “That’s ridiculous!” Lacey blurted out. “That’s as ridiculous as charging me five silver to use the lavatory! I’m not paying that!” For once, Lacey stood up for herself and refused to listen to another word. She stormed off toward the bucket, her hand fiddling beneath her dress to get her knickers down. However, she only made it a few more steps before she was again interrupted. A tall shadow cast itself over her. When she turned around, she saw Billie sitting up on her bed, her smirk fading. Even she was sitting down she looked tall, and without pants and the majesty of her untrimmed bush on view, she was still a terrifying presence. “Three silver.” She repeated, baring her teeth like a snarling beast. “Take it or leave it.” “I don’t even have three silver!” Lacey huffed. “How on earth would I even get three silver in here? They took my purse when I was arrested.” With a lewd grin, Billie gave her slit a gentle pat. “That’s not my problem.” She giggled. “When you’ve got silver we can do business… well, you can do your business.” She lay back down in her bed and turned on her side. “Until then… you can talk to my arse.” No, this time Lacey wasn’t going to let herself be bullied by this brute of a girl. She’d already let herself get into this horrible situation and she wouldn’t stand for it any longer. She was dying for a pee and nothing was going to stop her from using that bucket. With a stalwart gaze on her face, Lacey sucked up any fear she had left in her and charged onward toward the bucket. “Well… y-you can’t stop me.” Lacey said, holding her head up high. Maybe it was just from being so desperate, but she was going to let nothing stop her. She would pee! The bed frame moaned, creaking under Billie’s weight as she once again sat up. “What was that?” Her voice was cold, like a deadly beast had been awakened from its slumber. That cold, merciless voice was enough to cause Lacey to freeze. The Noble stood, feet rooted to the ground by fear alone. She trembled, a fearful shiver running up her body. She was almost certain she felt a leak escape. “Hehe…” She giggled nervously, the colour draining from her face. “I said,,, y-you can stop me, and I’ll just be going back to bed.” Lacey’s attempt at bravery though valiant, had failed spectacularly, and with quivering lips and a bulging bladder unrelieved, Lacey dragged herself back to bed. Denied the use of the bucket, Lacey waddled back to bed, doing her best to conceal how desperately she needed to go. She may have failed at being brave, but that didn’t mean she was going to give Billie the satisfaction of seeing her break under her stupid rules. It was a struggle, a truly monumental struggle for the Noble. She kept her thighs squeezed tightly together, letting her clammy legs rub against each other. It caused her to walk awkwardly, like her feet were weighed down. Each step she took was a violent knock against her full bladder, giving her a cruel reminder of how full she truly was. She could feel a small bulge protruding from her lower tummy. It was hard like a rock. Her bladder couldn’t hold anymore, she was right at her limit and she had to let it out. Somewhere. If she couldn’t do something soon, within the next few minutes at the most, she knew how this would end - with a sopping wet pair of knickers. She climbed back to the top bunk, taking a moment to push herself against the ladder as a powerful wave against rocked her whole body. The only relief she got from the cry of her bladder was the pressure as she pushed the rungs of the ladder between her legs. Once she was back in bed, Lacey lay down on her side, fearful of the pain she’d feel if she dared to lie down on her tummy. Between her legs the urges welled like a powerful storm. A strong, watery wave rocked her little boat. Again, she crossed her legs and pressed her fingers up against her spigot, plugging her maidenly spout. She ground her teeth until the discomfort passed. She tried to think of a solution, something she could do to appease Billie. There had to be something she could do to forgo paying her stupid toll. She rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, lying in deep thought for a short while. All day Lacey watched Billie dealing with people, though she kept it to herself. All she knew was that Billie was selling things and once the day was over, she happily counted out the silver she’d made. Suddenly, Lacey had an idea. Maybe that was it - If Billie fancied herself a “merchant” then perhaps she’d be open to some light bartering. Being the daughter of a Lord, Lacey had plenty to trade; even her skivvies though soaked through with sweat, were worth more than a measly three silver. She turned on her side and gently inched herself to the edge of the bed. “What if we traded?” She asked, her voice frail and soft now that she was at her limit. “What if we did?” Billie replied with a clear tone of disinterest. Lacey was struggling to talk already. Every ounce of strength she had left was focused between her legs, clamping off her quivering dam and keeping water where it belonged. She couldn’t even argue. All she could do was hit and hope, praying that Billie would want something in exchange for letting her pee in the bucket. “My boots… Dragon Leather - that’s worth way more than three silver.” She whimpered, grimacing as she heard the desperation in her own voice. “Dragon Leather?” As from a dragon?” Billie inquired, now sounding somewhat interested. “Y-Yes.” Lacey whimpered, biting down on her lip. “They’re yours if I can u-use the bucket.” There was a moment of silence, one that lasted longer than Lacey would’ve liked. “Yeah right.” Billie scoffed. “Do you think I’m that gullible?” She lifted a leg and ripped a bed-rattling fart. “That’s all I’ll offer you for your “Dragon Leather” Take it or leave it.” “Ooh…” Lacey whimpered, defeated. If she wanted to appease Billie, she’d have to bring something better than her boots, and there was still something that she had to trade. The very thought made her blush, and if she wasn’t on the brink of pissing herself she wouldn’t have considered it. “Well… w-what about… my k-knickers? R-Real Veruvan silk.” “Your skivvies?” Billie said with a cackle. “Actually…” She went quiet for a second, obviously absorbed in thought. “Tell you what, I’ll buy your skivvies off you. If you piss in them.” “W-What!?” Lacey nearly screamed. There were no words to describe how she felt hearing something so vulgar; her cheeks flared up red and suddenly she felt faint. “If I piss myself!?” “Yep.” Answered Billie. “There’s quite a few people who’d pay a fortune for a pair of soiled skivvies.” Lacey didn’t need any longer than a second to give her answer. “I’m not going to sell my soiled underwear to you!” She yelled. “That’s a shame.” Billie yawned and the frame of the bed creaked. “You know, with all this talk of pissing, it’s making me need to go.” She stood up from the bed, scratching her arse sleepily. She strolled across the cell, toward the bucket and kicked it into the moonlight. She stepped into the light, making sure Lacey could see her. Only her chest was covered, and in the silvery light her arse glimmered, as did her strong legs and bare feet. At first, Lacey hadn’t noticed that Billie had quite the legs on her, though the only time she had seen them was when Billie was seated on the privy. Her legs were strong, but slender, growing slightly plumper around her thighs and butt, drawing attention to her rear. When she turned around, Lacey could again see Billie’s maidenhood, her lower lips clearly visible beneath the hem of her tunic, surrounded by a forest of pubic hair. Billie hovered over the bucket, wiggling her plump backside over it, savouring the next few seconds. She lowered herself down and plopped herself down atop it, the fat of her thighs slowly sinking into the aged wood as she shuffled her butt to get comfortable. Then, the faintest sound of tinkling resonated between her legs “Ahh~” She sighed. She lifted her head back, sighed, and played with her hair as she did her business in the bucket. She bit down on her lip and strained, the trickling between her legs intensified, growing heavier, like a heaving downpour she pissed a mighty stream against the wood of the bucket. “Ooooh~” She sighed again, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her thighs and her chin on her hands. Lacey gulped, the sounds proving stressful on her poor bulging bladder, cutting right through her. As Billie’s water splattered noisily against the bucket, the sound resonating loudly through their cell, Lacey seized up; she wrapped herself up, almost curling into a ball and lay with her knees pressed right up against her face. She let out the weakest whimper and squeezed her legs as tightly as she could, crushing her hands between the clammy fat of her thighs once more. It was such a tantalizing symphony of sounds. It sounded like Billie was enjoying herself. Lacey could bear listening any longer. She buried her head into her pillow, muffling the watery splatters raining from Billie’s spigot. Her whole body was stirring, writhing, wriggling, all under the sheets of her bed as she forced to listen. A few seconds passed, though to Lacey it felt like an eternity. Time seemed infinite, like she was to be locked in this position - curled up in a ball, shivering, her fingers digging between her lower lips. Billie filled the first few inches of the bucket, the sound of piss pattering against the wood turned to a light splashing as her stream was now striking the fresh puddle she had produced. “Ahh~” She let out a hearty sigh, shifting herself on the bucket and spreading her legs. She lifted herself up, half-squatting over the bucket to allow Lacey a teasing glance of her stream in the moonlight, letting her witness that which she so desperately desired. The sounds Billie made - the sweet sighs of relief, the heavy splattering of piss against wood, it weighed down on Lacey, breaking down not just her bladder, but her whole being like a hammer against the most feeble of stone. She turned to face the wall and pressed the pillow over her ears until she could hear nothing. What Lacey wouldn’t have given for Billie to just disappear. If she did, then she’d be free to hike up her dress, kick down her knickers and plop her butt atop that filthy bucket for a good, long, unending piss. She was spurred on by teasing thoughts until she could envision it, her maidenhood quivering feverishly at the thought. She was pushed to the brink of soiling herself, the thought growing ever more tempting just so she could savour the delicious relief after being forced to hold it for so long. And then, under pressure, Lacey did something she’d never done before. Against the watery noises of Billie pissing, she blurted out the words without first thinking. “I’m Lord Emons bastard!” She said, clear as day, her cheeks burning and her heart racing a mile a minute. She was sworn to never reveal she was a bastard, and she’d never admitted it before, let alone to some peasant perched atop a bucket taking a piss. Billie heard her, and she went into a position of deep thought. She sat on the bucket, the sound of piss quietly tinkling beneath her and rested her head in her hands. “Good to know, but what’s that got to do with anything?” She shrugged her shoulders without an ounce of interest. “It means that I can pay you handsomely - Whatever you want! Gold? Gems? A pardon? Name it and you can have it… if I can use the bucket.” “If you can give me a pardon, why are you still here?” She leant forward, now resting her hands against her bare knees and sitting with her legs crooked. “Surely the daughter of a Lord wouldn’t be spending the night in jail?” “She’s smarter than she seems.” Lacey muttered to herself. She knew she couldn’t say anymore about what had happened. “It’s… complicated.” She replied. “Uh-huh.” Billie shook her head, completely unconvinced. “Well none of what you’re offering me does much when I’m in prison, does it?” There was a quiet sound like cloth being torn. “You’re promising me a pardon while you’re still locked up?” She chuckled. “Even better you’d sooner give me a pardon than three measly silver?” “I’m promising you a lot… more than three silver.” The burning between her legs intensified to the point Lacey was forced to press herself against the mattress, crushing her hands between herself and the mattress. “But you… only get it… if… if I can use the bucket.” Billie stood up, spread her legs, and wiped the dribbles from between her legs, thoroughly wiping as if she was caressing herself. “Oooh… nothing better than a good piss, right?” She said with a feigned moan, her only intent being to tease Lacey. “Just sitting down and letting it all pour out of you. It’s so refreshing.” She raised her arms and stretched. “I really needed that.” Her teasing continued to strike at Lacey, digging right down to her core. Billie was right - there was nothing better than a good piss. It caused Lacey to think only of the intense pressure pushing against her spigot, the shivers around her lower half as her muscles grew weak, and worst of all, the hot spurt that she had accidentally let leak into her knickers. “Are you even listening to me?” Lacey hissed, the desperation burning through her. Her Cellmate clearly wasn’t. Billie stood for a moment, scratching her maidenhood and sighed once more. She said nothing, slowly lifted the bucket so the sloshing of its contents could be heard quite clearly, and made her way to the barred window at the corner of their cell. “Hey!” Lacey continued to try and get her attention. Billie continued to ignore her and emptied the bucket out of the window. Her piss rained down onto the streets below, hitting with the stone with a mighty splash. That big watery splash wasn’t even the worst part for poor Lacey, who fixed solely on the sound of dripping as a tiny puddle dribbled from the window and down onto the floor of the cell. Drip! Drip! Drip! It fell slowly, in a rhythm, every few seconds. Drip! Drip! Drip! Relieved, Billie strolled back to her bed, patting her tummy. “Not to worry, you’ve got a couple of hours until morning, so either pay the toll or try to hold it until then.” “Ahh~” Lacey squeaked, her whole body trembling at the thought of waiting even a few more minutes, let alone a few hours. And then, it happened again. Lacey felt her lower lips twinge and then suddenly she felt her fingers growing warm and wet. Her eyes widened in fear, but this time she did nothing to stop it, letting it happen. Slowly, it trickled down fingers, along her palm and fell onto the lightly soaked silk of her knickers. She’d leaked again, this time there was more, covering her whole hand. She couldn’t even feel ashamed about it; the relief was just too good, enough that covered her face with her pillow and moaned quietly into it, hiding her relieved cries. “Oh, silly me, forgot to do something.” Billie sighed and got up from her bed once again. Something rattled and then Lacey heard a metallic clink. She opened her eyes and against the stone wall, she saw a shadow, something small and square, dangling from the ceiling. Hey eyes widened, the sight of that swaying object made her spigot wince once more, and again another spurt escaped, dousing her fingers with a fresh dribble of warm piss. “Uuu…” Lacey moaned, crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs feebly, without any more strength. It was the bucket; Billie had hung up the bucket from an old lantern hook on the ceiling. It was up high, at a height that only Billie could reach. There was no way Lacey would reach it, even on her tiptoes. That was it, that was the sign that she may as well give up. “Well good night.” Billie said with a feigned tone of kindness. As soon as Billie fell back to sleep, Lacey let out a soft whimper. She writhed around in total agony, whimpering. Her lips quivered and she could only quell it by biting down on her lower lip. Between her sweaty, squirming thighs, her damp fingers wriggled deep between her lips, pressed against her dripping wet spigot. She fingered her soft spot with as many fingers as she could, using whatever strength she had to keep another spurt from spilling into her knickers. She could still the last two soaking into the silk of her knickers, giving her lower lips a soft, wet kiss. The next leak would be more than a leak. Lacey could feel it. The next one would be her undoing, the turning of the tap that lets the water run free. She pushed her fingers deeper, right to the tip of her spigot, until they could go no further. She could feel that final leak coming. This was it. She could feel it as her bladder twinged. Her whole body was growing weak and at last she had no more strength to stop it, all of her willpower too had been extinguished. She was going to wet herself, a grown girl, a Lady of Lord Emon’s court and she was about to piss the bed like a little girl. All there was left to do before the inevitable soiling was to bury her head deep in the rough fabric of her pillow, hiding herself within the darkness. Lacey pushed her face into the pillow; she didn’t want to see the world while she was doing it. A tear ran down her cheek and soaked into the pillow; she squeezed herself tighter and continued to finger her soft spot, readying herself as she could feel a wave as strong as the sea rocking her little boat. And then, with a trembling tongue, and her whole body on the brink of collapse, Lacey lifted her head from the pillow and let out the weakest whimper. “P-Please… l-let me use the bucket.” She begged to Billie, her voice going soft like a child. “I… I need to go. I’ll do anything… just let me p-pee… p-please.” Never had she begged, but right now at the brink of pissing herself, she felt helpless enough to try. What did she have to lose? Even when her Cellmate tried to shake three silver out of her and then taken delight in teasing her and her bladder, Lacey continued to believe she could fracture this girls icy heart. There was silence in the chamber, the only sounds came from the bed frame creaking as Lacey danced in desperation. Finally, Billie sighed. “Okay… I’ll give you a freebie.” She said, her voice low and with a hint of regret. “It’s one use only, understood? Make the most of it because your next piss is going to cost you.” Billie stood up and walked across the cell, a hefty shadow strolling the dark. She walked toward the bucket, reached up and lifted it down from the lantern hook, chucking it to the floor. “There. Now make it quick.” She gestured to the bucket, now sitting freely on the floor. Without time to say anything, Lacey seized this moment of kindness. She kicked aside her blanket and wormed her way along her, slid down the ladders and ran toward the centre of the room. The sight of that little wooden bucket sitting in the moonlight was too much for her bladder to handle. She was weak at the knees, her whole body shivering like she had a fever, and her mind was clouded by nothing more than thoughts of sweet relief in that puny wooden bucket. The thoughts too proved to be too much for her toppling bladder, and Lacey leaked again. It was the biggest leak, like a flood, bursting from between her legs and dousing her fingers until they were soaking wet. It poured down her hands and soaked into the seat of her knickers. “Uuu… just another second…” She cried, begging her bladder to contain itself just a little longer. It was impossible, she felt another leak, larger than the last, and then another. Her hands grew wet and warm, as did her knickers, soaking through with a growing stain of hot piss. Lacey no longer cared about her dignity. She no longer cared about looking like a lady, nor did she care about composing herself in the presence of rabble. Right now, all she cared about was getting herself down over that bucket and relieving herself so she could once again know the blissful feeling of emptiness. She’s never been so excited to see rusted steel and splintered wood before. Under the moons silvery light, Lacey hiked up her skirt, flashing Billie a sight of her stained, silky frillies. She could only use one hand, the other was still thrust between her legs, giving her quite the bulge beneath her knickers. She didn’t care if Billie saw them, even as she made a lewd comment about how cute they were. She threw her skirt up and grabbed the hem with her mouth, biting down on it to keep it from floating back down. With feverish fingers she tried to pull down her knickers, struggling to move them as she fought against the shivers that made her thighs jitter. There was another leak, and Lacey was powerless. Completely powerless. The seat of her knickers were now soaked completely through, staining the soft white a warm yellow. She could feel it, the warm, wet embrace of the damp patch clinging to her thighs, making it even more of a struggle to remove them. It was the closest that Lacey had ever gotten to a real fight - a fight that had to be fought with sweaty palms and her nether regions as hot and clammy as a warm summer day. But that wasn’t going to stop her. Finally, after struggling, she managed to hook her fingers beneath the silk clinging to nethers and yanked them, grimacing as the dampness rolled down her legs. “Oh… Ooh…” She whimpered with a faint cry of success. The sight of her soaking silk knickers hung around her knees was enough for her bladder. All that mattered to her was that her knickers were off. Lacey paused for a moment, feeling her whole body grow weak. At last, it all came flooding down like a bursting dam. She felt everything in her bladder descend, rushing toward her maidenly spigot. “Ahh… It’s c-coming out!” She cried, cheeks flaring. She could feel a warm sensation between her legs and her lower lips growing wetter. She couldn’t stop the leak that followed, the stray spurt dribbled between her fingers and struck the stone beneath her legs. Lacey froze, realizing that was not the end of it. There was another leak, only this time it didn’t end. It doused her fingers, a shower of pee dribbling down her palm, but it kept coming, pouring between her legs until her hands were soaked. “Ah… Ahh…” She cried with a tremor of relief in her voice. She was going, peeing on the floor, her stream was splattering the stone between her legs, dampening her ankles. “Oooh~” She continued to cry, walking on toward the bucket. At last she was standing over it, but there was time to savour this victory. Lacey quickly stood over the bucket, letting some of her pee fill the bottom of it. The relief was tremendous, only growing stronger the more she let go. Her legs were trembling, her knees giving way, but that didn’t stop her. She squatted down, straddling the bucket to keep balance and plopped herself down atop the ring. Her cheeks sank into the ring, and the heavy sound of her flowing river was muffled by the soft fat of both her butt and thighs as she sat with her legs closed. The ring of the bucket was still warm after Billie had used it, and she could feel a few stray patches of wetness around it, but right now Lacey didn’t care. She managed to avoid completely drenching the floor and at last she was here, the wooden throne that she’d been pining for all night. Her lips formed into a crooked smile, quivering as she was thrust into a feeling of unexplainable bliss. Resting her hands atop her knees and leaning back, Lacey at last could relax and let nature run its course. All of the fluids she had been holding were now pouring into the bucket, filling the cell with a muffled, but quite audible tinkling. “Ooooooooooh~” Lacey moaned, throwing her head back. She slumped down on the bucket, letting the overwhelming feelings of pleasure take over. Her whole body went numb, her legs were like jelly, trembling. Between her thighs, it rained a glorious golden storm, the heavy flood of piss pelted the splintered rim of the bucket with quite a force. She could feel her bare thighs being splattered by the tiny splashes of piss that struck the side of the bucket. Lacey could only shuffle back an inch, stopping when she felt her butt hanging over the side of the rim. Even then, the force of her stream was too much to stop pale, slender legs from being doused. Right now, Lacey didn’t care. Even if the feeling was grossly warm, Lacey couldn’t care. A jolt of overpowering relief shot up her back and through her whole body. She felt it most between her legs, her maidenhood twinging with delight. Her thighs were growing wetter, dribbles of stray pee were running down her legs and dribbling onto the rim of the bucket. She could feel it between her buttcrack too - stray dribbles of warm pee that crept toward her knot before falling into the bucket. She straddled the bucket tightly and grunted, pushing down on her bladder and straining. Her anus winced as all of the pressure went on her lower body. It was enough force that she drew dangerously close to breaking wind, feeling a little bubble right on the knot of her butthole, but she held it. The hissing sounds intensified, even after a solid thirty seconds, Lacey was nowhere near done, her stream still going strong, filling the bucket to its halfway point. The scent of fresh piss was beginning to fill the chamber, as was a light air of steam that rose from the heat of her water resting in the bucket. It lingered, leaving the air feeling a tad hotter. “Hmmm~” Lacey continued to moan and relaxed her grip on the bucket, letting herself lean forward and resting her hands atop her knees. She could finally feel the balloon that was her bladder growing smaller, deflating. The small bulge that she felt protruding from her tummy was shrinking, growing with every passing second she filled the bucket. Through this minute long orgy of blissful, watery relief, as Lacey indignantly filled the old splintered bucket with glee, Billie remained quiet. She lay on her bed, watching Lacey pee, enjoying it with a wide grin on her face. She didn’t think to say anything, or to act at all. She simply lay there in her bed, taking delight in a desperate girl at last getting her long awaited relief. Time passed quickly for Lacey, and at last her thick stream was reduced to a few dribbles falling into a steaming sea of yellow. The sound of water striking water became a quiet tinkling once more. Lacey sat there, her dress hiked up over her knees and her damp knickers wrapped around her ankles. She sat quietly, legs crooked, resting her head in her hands until she was finally empty. She couldn’t believe it - it was over. At last, after a whole day of torture, it was finally over. “Ha… Ha… Ha…” She panted, gasping for breath. Straining herself had been exhausting and she needed a moment to take a breath and regain her composure. The rising steam from the heat of her piss wafted up, warming her bare arse in a pleasurable way. Lacey grinned, the feeling of the heat tickling her cheeks. She straightened up on the pot and stretched, clicking her heels against each other. All was right in the world again. There was nothing to do now but bask in the relief that followed after a desperately needed piss. There was nothing to describe how Lacey was feeling. There were no words, no actions, no anything to describe the overpowering relief that had taken over her. All she could do was sit there, panting for breath, letting the occasional shudder of pleasure take her. Her whole body felt warm and a bead of sweat was dripping from her forehead. She felt like she had just gone through a rigorous exercise. The kind of physical exertion that would’ve had the best men falling down and fainting. Heavens knew she felt like she could collapse right now. She was exhausted, tapped out, her whole body fatigued both physically and mentally. She finally knew how it felt - to hold it to the brink of wetting herself and then to let it all out. She finally knew the sweet water relief, the delightful pleasure as her bladder shrunk as she was surrounded by a liquid symphony of her own making. This feeling - this is why people loved to brag about the amazing piss they’d just taken. For so long, she had believed it to be nothing more than juvenile talk, but at last she understood why they did, like she’d cracked the code of the universe. Once she had caught her breath, and her mind was unmuddled from the haze that sweet relief had left her in, she looked up, toward Billie who was sitting in her bed. “T-T… T-Thank y-you…” She still struggled to give her thanks through her sighs and pants. “Ah...ha...ha…” “Think nothing of it.” Billie grinned, though this time there was something friendlier about her smile. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see a lady take a piss. You really do piss like us common folk, huh?” “A Lady?” Lacey furrowed her brow, confused. “Yeah.” Billie nodded and leant toward the edge of her bed. “You said you were Lord Emon’s bastard - that’d make you a Lady even if he did put his arrow in a whores quiver, right?” “Right…” Lacey nodded in agreement. She had completely forgotten that she having this conversation while on the bucket. “You didn’t believe me before, so why believe me now?” Billie giggled. “No back alley girl has a pair of knickers that dainty.” She pointed between Lacey’s legs. “You weren’t kidding were you? Veruvan silk.” “What? How…” Lacey glanced down and at first sight, she felt her cheeks burning red. Her knickers were wrapped around her ankles, the delicate white silk now coloured a light yellow. “Ahh! Don’t look! Don’t look!” She cried, bending over to hide her stained delicates from view. She kicked them off and slid them beside the bucket to deal with them alter. “I’ll take that as a compliment…” Lacey paused as she reached up to grab a shred of cloth from the window sill. She took one and was just about to wipe when she noticed Billie watching from her bed. “C-Could I have some privacy please?” Lacey said, now feeling somewhat comfortable talking to Billie. “J-Just while I… w-wipe.” “I guess.” Billie shrugged and covered her head with her pillow, leaving herself a small gap so she could spy. Lacey wiped and threw the shred of cloth into the bucket. Billie watched her through the small gap beneath her pillow, feeling a light tickle in her maidenhood as she watched Lacey wipe herself. The bucket, which wasn’t exactly too big to begin with, was almost completely full. Lacey glanced down between her legs, seeing her own reflection in the pale water. Her own piss was mingling with the fragments of Billie’s, turning the mixture of their fluids a light, cloudy yellow. At last, she was finished. Lacey stood up from the bucket and let her dress fall down, covering her. She looked across the cell, noticing a small trail of dribbles, each one larger than the last until they finally finished between her feet. Lacey blushed, but she didn’t think too much of it. Right now, feeling relieved, she picked up her soggy knickers and went back to her bed. As she climbed the ladder, the bed frame rocked, and again Lacey saw a fist in front of her. It missed her and once again struck the wall, stopping her from climbing another step. “Hold up…” Billie said, returning to her menacing form, her voice low. “W-What?” Lacey squeaked, that panic she had felt earlier in the privy returning. Billie’s smirk grew, and she turned her fist, grinding it into the wall. Slowly, her palm opened, revealing several gold coins. “That’s…” Lacey couldn’t believe it. “Ten gold.” Billie replied, shuffling the coins in her palm with her fingers. “You wanted to sell me your knickers earlier.” Her smile grew softer. Lacey had completely forgotten about that, and hearing it again did nothing but cause her to feel humiliated. “T-Ten g-gold?” She stammered, unsure what to say. “F-For my p-panties?” “And I’ll waive the privy toll… for a week.” Billie grinned again, this time that friendly grin had returned, like she was talking to a friend. “Just for my p-panties?” “You said they were Veruvan silk, right?” Lacey didn’t have much more to say, and after thinking it over, she finally decided to sell her panties to Billie. It was ten gold, and she had been teleported far from home without much more than a few measly silver. And after tonight, after the display she had unknowingly put on for Billie while sitting on that bucket, selling her soiled skivvies no longer felt like the sin she’d thought of it as. Billie took the panties and waited until Lacey climbed back into her bed. Once the coast was clear she took a deep breath, steadying her beating heart. “The soiled knickers of a Lady.” She whispered to herself, squeezing the soiled skivvies in her hands. This was a moment she had been waiting for. At last, she had the soiled skivvies of a Lady, though they were not thoroughly soaked, it was enough for her to enjoy. As the clock in the town rang out for three in the morning, Billie slid under the covers, and with Lacey’s pee-soaked knickers beside her, she let her fingers wander south between her lower lips. With a sinful smile, Billie began to pleasure herself. The End
  7. As a prefix to this world, it’s set in your typical fantasy world just set in the modern day. If LotR is the Middle Ages then this would be the space age. I thought about the fun of this idea and for whatever reason I decided to write about a mermaid attending college inland. Mermaids are accustomed to living in the deep sea where beach rules apply. So long as you aren’t close to someone just taking a leak while you’re swimming isn’t rare. Combine that with heavy water consumption requirements, a smaller bladder, and not being used to having to hold it and you have a recipe for problems. And our friend Melody here is not having a fun time. Anyway, Preface over. Melody hobbled around on her crutches, slithering around with her tail. She looked somewhat typical for a mermaid, with a body that was almost entirely human from the waist up and possessing a blue greenish tail that looked something like a combination of a shark, a sea snake, and a angle fish. She was wearing a short blue dress that went down to just above where a human’s knees would be. She brushed her brown hair out from in front of her face and plopped herself down at a table in the center of the mall food court. ”hey Mel, we got your food for ya. I figured there was no good reason for ya to have to go over there yourself.” Said a short haired wood elf girl holding two bags of food. ”El, you didn’t have to do that. I could have got it myself.” Melody and Eladre had become fast friends since they both started classes at Briraven. Despite their different backgrounds, El coming from the sticks in western Arcadia and Melody coming from the City Atlantis, the two got along surprisingly well. ”No offense Mel, but I makes me feel bad to see a girl with crutches carrying things. You just look pitiful like that.” “Listen theres nothing wrong with me, my tail just doesn’t work that good up here. How would you feel if you came to Atlantis or some other Merkin city and I was dragging you around everywhere because you couldn’t swim as fast as me.” Melody replied. ”Well I can’t rightly breath underwater so I’d probably feel like I was drownin’.” Eladre Said as she stuffed a handful of fries in her mouth. “So I’d probably need some help with that.” She said while still chewing. Melody laughed. “I suppose that’s true. But I can breath perfectly fine up here, so I don’t need the help. By the way did you get my drink?” ”Diet Wz Merlin, extra large with no ice just like ya asked. Still don’t understand why ya hate ice so much.” Melody unwrapped the cheap cheeseburger from her meal and took a long gulp of the massive drink in front of her, lowering the level of the beverage inside by an inch and a half. “Because it’s how they cheat you out of your drink, and i need as much as I can get.” Eladre stared her in the eyes for a uncomfortable minute, looking like she was trying to figure something out. Just as Melody was getting uncomfortable, Eladre took a bite of her burger and spoke. “How do y'all eat under water? I’ve been tryin’ to puzzle that out for a while now. Doesn’t the food get soggy?” ”Uhh... We eat in air pockets most of the time... Surface food doesn’t taste good wet so most resultants have the tables and kitchen above water in a air bubble. Also don’t stare like that, it looks creepy.” She said as she washed down a bit of her burger with another massive gulp of soda. ”Sorry Mel. Anyway don’t ya think you’re drinking that a little quick?” ”Why?” Melody asked while chugging another drink, bringing the drink in cup to half it’s original level. ”Well ya don’t want me to get your refills for you, plus aren’t ya worried about having to take a leak?” She said whispering the last bit. Melody choked on her fries for a second. “El! Don’t talk about that while people are eating, besides it’s not as if i’m a child. I can hold my punch just the same as anyone.” ”You said that last week and you had to run a red light driving home.” ”Just drop it. Now im finished, let’s get back to shopping. I just need to get me a refill first.” She said as she reached for her crutches. “It’s fine Mel, i’m gettin a refill anyway. Let me grab that for you.” She said as she snatched the cup out of Melody’s hand. ”That girl, if she was a man I’d think she was trying to get me in bed or something for as much misplaced concern as she has. Then again I’ve never seen her with a guy. Is she hitting on me?” Melody thought to herself. Her thoughts turned to her agonizing drive home last week and the damp underwear she had to slip down her tail in the bathroom of their dorm room. “Maybe I should go, just to be safe.” She turned her eyes to the restroom only too see a line extending 10 people outward. She took a moment to notice a pink haired mermaid riding a wheelchair, another common option for mermaids living on land, with her hands pressed up against her lap. “Nevermind, I am not waiting for that to thin out. I don’t need to go, I’ll be fine.” ”Hey Mel, I got ya drink.” Eladre said as she walked up to her, helping her to a standing position and putting her crutches under her arms. “Now, you wanted to check out that swimsuit place right?” ”Yeah” She said as she started drinking again. “Let’s get going.” The two of them walked across the mall, through halls full of shops. Some of the more noticeable places where a sweet shop ran by a elderly Orc woman selling chocolate battleaxes and candy skulls, and a hobby shop selling replicas of legendary magic weapons from history. It didn’t take too long for the two of them to arrive at a small surf shop. Melody hobbled in and began looking through a pile of discounted swimsuits. “Oh look at this, don’t you think the pink brings out my eyes? Oh but the green would look good with my tail! What do you think El?” Eladre let out a sigh while she looked through the typically small Elf section. “Why do they always have to be so big, I can never find anything with a snug fit.” She mumbled. It wasn’t odd for wood elf’s of her age to be more... lithe for lack of a better word. But Eladre was a even smaller than average. Most elven women don’t grow into their full proportions until they hit 500 or so, which unfortunately for her was a good century off. ”Cant you wear an a cup?” “The only thing I can get to fit are children’s suits, and I have to cut those in half and wear em as a two piece.” ”Hmm...” Melody looked through their selection, trying to find some made for a Mermaid. “Hey, do you have any mermaid suits?” She asked the sales person. ”Why don’t ya just wear the tops?” Eladre asked. ”Oh I don’t know, why don’t you just go around naked? I’m not a doll you know. Just because we look like fish to most people doesn’t mean I want to go around like that!” ”I’m sorry miss, but we don’t carry those.” The salesman replied. ”You could always buy one of those with the skirt things and cut the bottom out.” Eladre said. ”grrr... Forget it. I will be taking my business somewhere else.” She started towards the door and noticed a slight tinge coming from her abdomen. “Great. I guess I should be finding a bathroom soon.” She thought to herself. she looked at the map to try and find one before Eladre grabbed her by the arm. “Hey, I asked someone and they said there was another store on the other side of the mall. Ya wanna go?” ”I guess I can hold it until we pass by one.” Melody thought to herself. “Sure.” She replied. The two of them slowly crossed the mall, all the while the twinge in Melody’s abdomen was becoming a annoyance. They came to a circular area with a large fountain in the middle. The loud babble of the water reached Melody’s ears. “Great, that’s doing wonders for the situation. On top of that it’s making me thirsty. This heat, im sweating to death.” She thought to herself. To Be Continued
  8. Version 1.0.0

    537 downloads

    So here again...another animation. I managed to get one more pushed out before New Years...not bad. This was a personal one. As you all know (or not), I am a big fan of adventure games, and TtRPGs with elves, dwarves, and other fantastical creatures. So obviously, a monster girl thing was right up my alley; and I based alot of this on certain animes I watched (Papi is best Harpy). This animation did go through development hell. Unfortunately, the amount of stuff I put into it overloaded the engine; and I was having difficulty finishing it. Because of this, I had to use a different effect to make the pee come out; as I just couldn't use the OG one I use all the time. So some people might be let down by this...please note it was due to technical difficulties in why this came about; and not because I was cutting corners (although I did cut ALOT of corners). Then again, maybe people will like the new effect; so we'll see. Also...starting next year, I'm going to be working on a youtube channel dedicated more towards this. The animations are going to be there as entertainment; though I need to spread out the channel in what it provides; as MMD is a horrible way to make money due to the people's attitude towards using their quote on quote...intellectual property (which I contest heavily since its not actually their own 99% of the time). I'll be using them as a step and stone to propel me to other ventures on it. Once this takes off, you should expect animations here at a reduced rate because of it. Just as a heads up...I'm not saying I'll forget anyone, I'm just saying... Japanese credits: Japanese toilet: Unknown...was uploaded via someones Onedrive

    Free

  9. -A picture of the main character, Addilyn. I feel like I don't use this picture enough and now is a perfect time. Ayla and Harriet: Locked in It was a dull winter evening and the rain was lashing down over the Midlands. The halls of Fort Victoria were quiet with most of the Guildhands and Apprentices heading out into town to celebrate a successful Royal visit. However, sitting by candlelight in the confines of a large study, there were two Apprentices who were not fortunate enough to be out getting drunk with their friends. For Ayla - The Fiery-haired Bard and Harriet it was another night in Sidmere’s study, reading up and practicing their spells for a chance at their upcoming Guildhand trial. Ayla, who had seen the brunt of the duties for the Royal visit, had been so eagerly awaiting the night where she could finally go out and unwind. But she couldn’t avoid studying when the trials were so close. She looked out of the rain-splattered window, looking down on Guilden, the lights of the town fragmented by the rain, and sighed. For an hour, she studied, focusing on her spellbook and trying to drill the long list of spells into her head. Her attention waned; often she found herself wandering from the pages and up to the massive library that towered above her Mentor’s study. So many books, and she didn’t believe that Scholar Sidmere had read them all in his time. The man was barely past the age of thirty, and he much preferred theatre to books. Instead of studying, Ayla began to ruminate about how many of those books her Mentor had read, and how many were still waiting to be opened, left to gather dust through years of neglect. A hand slapped her shoulder, jolting her forward and knocking her from her ruminations. She spun around in her seat and behind her, Harriet stood with her wand in hand. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your reading?” She asked, poking Ayla’s cheek with her wand, her fat freckled cheeks raised with a smirk. Harriet was another of Sidmere’s Apprentices. She was a short girl with a little weight on her, coming from a fondness for food. And it showed. She had a belly on her, but most of her weight was in her thighs which were delightfully plump, the faint sight of them showing beneath her skirt. Her chubby cheeks were freckled and she had a small button nose that really showed just how rounded her cheeks were. She had brown hair that reached just beyond her ears and was often short and curly, but for tonight it had been straightened. It was easy to tell she was naturally curly-haired as it was already beginning to furl back. She was a year older than Ayla - Nineteen years. It gave her the idea that she was the Senior, the older sister of the two and she liked to act like it. Though often she looked more foolish than mature. Her talent as a Magi was not be overlooked, but Harriet had a penchant for not acting her age. Ayla reached out and swiped the wand from Harriet’s hand. “Shouldn’t you?” She retorted. “You won’t learn much swinging your wand around.” “I am.” Replied Harriet, snatching her wand back and running to the other side of the table where Ayla couldn’t reach her. Not that Ayla cared to follow her. “It looks it.” She shook her head. With a mocking glance, Harriet pointed her wand at her and chuckled, brandishing a mischievous grin. “It’s important you are as useful with your spells as you are your books.” She recited her Mentor’s words with an accent that barely resembled his. Her performance as Scholar Sidmere gave Ayla a strong fit of the giggles. Her impression was good, or maybe it was just the mockery she put into her words. “Well, get back to it. And let me read in peace.” Before she could continue reading, a wand slammed down on her book. Ayla huffed and slowly looked up, again seeing Harriet smirking. “Come spar with me, Ayla.” She pushed the wand away. “I need to catch up on my reading. There’s a whole bunch of spells I’ve yet to learn.” She tried to open her book again, and again the wand came down on it. “Oh, come on!” Harriet whined. “I need to practice some of these summons and it’d be fun to do it with somebody. “Come on~” She kept begging, hopping up and down and eventually rocking the table, all wide-eyed and soppy like a puppy. “If you do it I’ll love you forever~” It took some time, but eventually she caved to Harriet’s begging and took the wand. “Okay, I’m sure I can show you a thing or two. Just stop with those puppy-dog eyes.” The girls took up position in the center of the study and prepared for their first round sparring. The game was simple; one girl would manifest an illusion, and the other had to summon something to best it. If Harriet summoned a mouse, Ayla would summon a cat. If she summoned a tree, then Ayla would summon an axe. It was a fast game, each round lasting only a minute. Before the girls knew it, a whole hour had passed. The clock in the town rang for seven and both girls set aside their wands. Harriet’s stomach growled, as did Ayla’s, and both girls agreed it was time for something to eat. “Did you bring something with you to eat?” Harriet asked, pulling out a neatly wrapped sandwich from her rucksack. “I was going to get something from the Great Hall… but I forgot.” Ayla squeaked, hanging her head down. Harriet giggled and reached back into her rucksack. “It’s a good thing I brought enough for us both, isn’t it.” She said, placing a smaller sandwich on the table. In the back of her mind, Ayla had a feeling that this wasn’t really for her, that it was just another sandwich for Harriet to scarf down, but she wouldn’t say no. She took the sandwich and fiddled with the delicate wrapping. “Where did you get this? From that little tea shop in town?” “Uh-huh!” Harriet nodded, spewing crumbs as she’d already taken a large bite from her sandwich. “Aww, I wish you’d told me you were going there.” Ayla huffed. “You know how much I love that big flask of cinnamon tea they do.” The chubby Magi smirked, crumbs again falling from her mouth. “Then it’s a good thing I was thinking of you.” She again reached into her rucksack and pulled out two green flasks. For a short while, the girls sat at the table, munching on their sandwiches and talking. There really wasn’t much to talk about, but that didn’t stop them from chatting. Harriet, with a mouth full of pork sandwich, bragged about a new spell she had been learning - a teleportation spell capable of vanishing anything. “It’s going to be such a great spell!” She said, crumbs spewing everywhere as she waved her wand around. “I’ll be able to move anything that’s smaller than me, but with enough effort, I could learn to move mountains!” She cheered, again waving her wand. Not much for bragging, Ayla sat quietly and nursed her cinnamon tea. She listened to Harriet brag and brag. She knew she couldn’t say anything when Harriet had been kind enough to bring her a sandwich and tea, so she kept quiet, nodding along with every word Harriet said. After both girls had finished their food and their tea, they set back to their studies. The night was growing and they both wished to get as much studying done before their Mentor’s return. Ayla once again buried her head deep in her spellbook and began reciting summoning words, and Harriet returned to her summoning. It had only been a few minutes after finishing her tea that Harriet felt discomfort in her bladder. It was enough to interrupt her from her spellcasting. “Haa~” She sighed and threw her arms up. She couldn’t ignore it, she had to answer nature’s call. “It was a big flask of tea.” She shrugged to herself.. She sat her wand down on the table and strutted off to use the lavatory, whistling a tune as she approached the door. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going for a slash.” She informed Ayla. “Alright.” Ayla peered over her book. “Don’t take too long, I know what you’re like.” Neither girl had remembered, nor realized what they had been told by Nidley earlier. Harriet walked up to the door, growing quite desperate for a pee. It was growing worse quickly, like the contents of that flask was rushing itself into her bladder. She grabbed the door handle and pushed it, and to her dismay found that it wouldn’t budge. The handle was stuck, rattling under her grasp. “Oh right…” She sighed, remembering at last. “Nidley put this dumb lock on the door.” She held the lock flat in her palm and jiggled it, hoping that would be enough to undo such a flimsy looking lock. “What did Nidley say this thing does? Ask us a question or something like that?” The lock the Kniv had put on the door was designed to stop the girls from shirking their studies and heading out into town to get drunk with the rest of the Guild. At first Ayla and Harriet found the idea ridiculous, but no matter what they said, Nidley brushed it off and insisted that it wouldn’t be a problem. “It’s not like you’ll be locked in here! If you need to get up to do dirty things, all you have to do is answer a question and the lock will undo itself! Easy right?” The Kniv told them. “You’re both great students, so you shouldn’t have a problem with this lock provided you’ve both been reading your spellbook - which I’m sure two great Apprentices have been.” The look Nidley had given them glowed with a certain mockery. It came naturally to a Kniv, that mocking little stare. They were mischievous by nature after all. The lock began to shake in Harriet’s palm and suddenly, like a creature drawing its first breath, it gasped. “If you wish to pass you must solve my riddle.” A deep voice echoed. “Alright, I’m an ace at riddles.” Harriet claimed with a burning arrogance. That arrogance was suddenly knocked as a knock from her bladder struck her, causing her legs to seize. She jiggled her hips, dancing up and down on the spot, feeling her fluids sloshing around inside her. “Hurry it up then, I’m burstin’ for a wee here.” A deep deep guttural groan emanated from the device, and the voice told her the riddle. “I vanquish light, but without it I diminish. I am as darrrrk as night and black as coal, but I can shape myself under your contrrrrol.” The riddle concluded with an inhuman groan. “What am I?” “I… what?” Harriet had never heard such a riddle, and after mulling it over for a minute or two, with her thoughts being disrupted briefly by growing urgency between her legs, she gave in, huffed and crossed her arms. “What the hell does that mean?” She tried listing off the first things that came to her mind. None of them were correct. FInally, she grabbed the lock and started pulling at it. “I don’t know the answer to that dumb riddle. Now come on, open up and let me go for a wee! I’m not going to sneak off! Come onnnnn!” She pulled and pulled, the steel rattling under her grasp, but the lock didn’t budge. “Your answerrrr is incorrrrect.” It moaned. “Return to me when you can solve my riddle.” “Hey! No!” She pulled furiously, planting her foot on the door and pushed herself back with the lock in hand. “Come on! Let. Me. Go!” Still it wouldn’t budge. No matter how much Harriet pulled, rattled and rived. All of this activity only aggravated her bladder. She stopped when she felt a fierce sting between her lower lips, like a burning against her spigot. “Gah!” She took out her frustration by kicking the floor. There was nothing she could do, and with her bladder begging for relief, Harriet could only hobble back to the table. “A-Ayla do you know the answer?” She asked, cheeks flushed. Ayla shook her head, but she did have one idea. “Nidley said the answer would be in our spellbooks, right?” She flicked the page and read on. “Maybe it’s not just a riddle, maybe they’re summoning words. You know - words of power for helping novices with spellcasting.” “Like what Sidmere has you doing?” Harriet said with a sly smirk. “Yes… like what Sidmere has me doing.” She replied, masking her anger at such an easy dig of her abilities. “So we’re going to have to read through this whole thing to find them?” Harriet picked up her own book and ran her finger across the pages of the unopened book. “There must be a thousand pages here!” Saying that made her bladder twinge. She grabbed the edge of the table and bent down, squeezing her thighs tightly together. To read through the whole book and find those words, if they were even there, would take a lot longer than her quivering bladder could afford her. All that tea had gone right through her and quickly it was filling her up. She felt fit to burst and knowing she had no choice only made it feel worse. Harriet pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. She pressed her butt deep into the chair, crossing her legs and brushing the heel of her right foot up and down her shin in impatient desperation, letting the rhythmic sound soothe her. “I’m bursting!” She hissed through her teeth. “Try not to think about too much.” Ayla told her in a weak effort to try and help. “Here, I’ll help. How about I read from the back and you read from the front?” “P-Please.” Harriet accepted, her tongue quivering as her body waned in strength from holding. “Thank you, A-Ayla.” She smiled kindly. “It’s no problem.” Though she had her own selfish reasons for finding the answer to that riddle, and she kept it hidden well beneath the table. All Harriet could do now was bury her head in the spellbook and flick frantically through the pages. She tried to sit still, but her urges kept her squirming, writing in her seat, brushing her pudgy butt against the wood. She read as fast as she could, pushing through the pages of spells, looking for anything that could match the riddle. Nothing would stop her. The only thing that came close was the growing wave of desperation that kept washing over her, sending her whole body into a frenzy of feverish shivers, the lapse in control causing her to strike the table with her knees to alleviate the urges. “Have you found anything yet?” She moaned, growing ever more impatient. “Not yet.” Ayla replied, though she was reading at a much slower pace, examining every sentence thoroughly. “Oooooh~” She moaned again and buried her face into the books pages. She felt a twinge between her legs like a violent flash of lightning striking her. She grasped the book tightly, pulling it close and pushing the tip of its spine against her spout, shuddering as it brought her momentary relief. “I’m dying for a piss here!” She cried. “I know, but keep reading. It can’t take much longer.” Ayla tried to reassure her. Harriet had not been alone in her plight as Ayla too had been feeling nature’s call for a while now. She too had greedily downed her entire flask of tea before returning to her studies. She composed herself far better than Harriet but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling the same pressure as her friend. For now, Ayla accepted there was nothing more they could do but find the answer to the riddle. The only other solution she wouldn’t dare consider, and that was to find… other means of relieving themselves. That was out of the question, so for now Ayla sat, legs together and the thoughts of relieving herself pushed to the back of her mind. An hour had passed, marked by the chimes of the town clock in the distance. The girls had hardly made a dent in the pages they were reading. It had gotten worse for them, both girls squirmed in their seats, Harriet noticeably more so than Ayla. Both girls were near their limits. Harriet was burning up. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire and she had grown sweaty from the frequent shivers. She had grown more tense as time passed, sitting with her legs pressed right against each other, pressing her hot, pudgy thighs together. She grimaced at the clammy feeling of sweat. Even as she wrapped herself up, she could still feel her water, the impatient calls of her bladder pushing ever closer to the tip of her maidenly spot, her lower lips trembling as her strength dwindled. She couldn’t distract herself, whether it be by reading or impatient pacing, her mind could focus on visions of sweet relief; of pulling down her knickers and seating herself over a nice, waiting commode. The sounds of her water sloshing beneath her and she let it all out. Those visions proved to be too much, and Harriet at last couldn’t contain herself. She gave up, slamming her book closed and accepting defeat. She buried her head deep in her knees, pressing her hands down between her soft maidenly lips, not a care for the sweat moistening her fingers. “I can’t hold it in any longer!” She declared, screaming loud enough for her voice to echo. She leapt up from the chair, her sudden movements causing intense agony to the point she doubled over, crushing her hands with the sweaty fat of her thighs. “Please tell me you’ve found the answer!” She cried, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. She hadn’t and Ayla lacked the heart to tell her the truth. She shook her head meekly. She too had been distracted by her body’s frequent cries for the lavatory. Beneath the table she rocked her legs, sweeping the floor with her boots, listening to the scraping of the stone to distract herself. She had grown desperate, near her own breaking point. She could feel her bladder overfilling, the warm contents giving her belly a slight bulge. Still, she kept her composure. “I’m going to piss myself!” Harriet continued to cry, jumping up and down frantically with her hands wedged between the heft of her thighs. Her wrists lifted her skirt and revealed the faintest glimpse of her knickers. “I really mean it this time! It’s about to come out!” She spun around, scouting the room for something to go in. “I’ve got no choice… I’m going to have to piss in that plant!” Ayla felt her heart skip a beat when she heard it. “W-What!?” She yelped, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder toward the corner Harriet was eyeing. There was an old ceramic pot that housed a small green shrub, perfectly perched in the shadow. “Y-You can’t go in that!” She shouted. She’d never heard Harriet be so crude. “J-Just wait another minute or t-two! I’m almost through-” Her words fell on deaf ears. As Ayla tried to reason with her, Harriet ignored her and squirmed over to the pot, holding herself the whole way. She hiked up her skirt and treated Ayla to a glimpse of her peachy backside, barely contained by her white knickers, which clung to her crack with sweat. She stood over the shrub, weak at the knees, shaking violently as she clawed at her knickers. The sweat had them clinging to her maidenhood like glue. Her hands, shaking feverishly, also gave her problems. She could feel it coming, her spout quivering. She had to get her knickers down and squat down over the pot before it was too late. “H-Harriet!” Ayla yelled, trying her best to get her to stop. “J-Just h-hold it for another-” “I can’t.” Harriet hissed. She stood immodestly with her hands hiking up her skirt, revealing her white cotton knickers in all of their glory. “If Nidley didn’t want me to piss in their plants she shouldn’t have put that stupid lock on the door!” Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, she was able to hook her thumbs under her knickers and yanked them down. They fell around her knees, revealing her soft pink lips, glistening with sweat. Ayla couldn’t believe it. She could feel her heart racing. Harriet’s maidenhood, right before her very eyes. There was no more time. Harriet felt a spurt dribbling from between her lips. Without hesitation she thrust herself down and squatted over the pot, lowering herself over the soil. She felt the leaves press against her crotch, they tickled her lips. She let go, and at last felt the pleasure as her water rushed out of her and into the waiting soil beneath. “Ooooooooh~” She moaned as the air in the chamber resonated with a heavy hissing and the sounds of her piss slashing against dry soil. Her stream struck the soil with force, causing it to splatter against the leaves of the shrub, as well as her bare thighs. She didn’t care, she didn’t care about anything. The relief was too much. It felt too good. She took great pleasure in the relief she was feeling, enjoying every second that she was filling the pot. She swayed her hips gently, thrusting them from side to side. She glanced down and watched as her thick stream rained from between her thighs, spraying the little plant in her essence as she danced from side to side. A few stray dribbles ran from her maidenhood, leading a hot, damp trail to her wincing anus and dribbling down onto the floor. “Ahhhhhhhh~” She continued to sigh, moaning like a whore being serviced between her legs. Her stream showed no sign of stopping, and the soil, now damp and steaming with piss, could barely hold anymore of her fluids. With a little push, her stream grew even stronger, now striking the leaves and splattering the floor around her boots. “Oooh~” Her legs went weak from the ecstasy she was feeling. She could hardly keep herself up so she squatted deeper, her cheeks widening as she straddled the sides of the pot to steady herself. “Ahh~ F-Fuck me~ This feels~” Her symphony of sighs continued, dripping with relief that was near orgasmic. “Sooo good~” Ayla leered at Harriet’s maidenhood, watching her douse the poor plant with a splattering of piss. Her cheeks grew redder, burning like hellfire. Harriet’s backside was delightfully plump, her rosy cheeks dripping with stray drops of pee that glistened in the candlelight. She knew it was wrong to watch another girl during such a personal moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She watched every second of it, the sight of another girl pissing gleefully in her presence causing her own bladder to wince in envy. It was taunting; she felt helpless. Part of her wanted to rush over and join her, pulling down her knickers and hovering over the plant with her. The only thing Ayla could do was straddle the chair and press her maidenhood against the seat, squirming like a helpless child. It was as if she was torturing herself. To watch Harriet relieve herself with such unrestrained pleasure while she was confined to her seat, writing around, on the edge of soiling herself. It made her lower lips tremble and coupled with the pressure against her maidenly spot, she began to quiver with glee. Harriet was still not relieved. She must have held the whole of Lake Astana in her bladder to be pissing for so long. She was still going, her stream splattering noisily against the pool of piss where the soil could not soak up anymore. Her stream was growing weaker and she was beginning to feel empty. It was an orgasmic feeling, one that curled her lips in pleasure. With feverish fingers, she lowered herself down to the pot and seated herself atop it, barely hanging over the edge. Her pudgy thighs sank in the ceramic pot and her radiant cheeks, filling out the empty space, concealed her stream from Ayla’s leering eyes. But she could still hear it; a soft muffled splashing against an already large pool of piss. Her cheeks slowly spread as her butt sank into the pot, giving Ayla a rather… vivid view of her rear porthole, glistening with piss and winking with every shiver. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime had passed, there was silence again. Harriet’s stream died down to a few little trickles. The chamber’s smoky aroma was now polluted with a strong stench of fresh piss that steamed in the air. Ayla, with her bladder bulging and her heart battering against her chest, relished the silence. No longer could she be teased by the sights and sounds of Harriet pissing. That sound, the sloshing of her stream as it mingled with the already growing puddle in the pot had been as tantalizing as it had been taunting. It had given Ayla a feeling of ecstasy for all the wrong reasons. “Hmm~” Harriet concluded the ordeal with a soft sigh, a quiet little moan that told her that at last her bladder was empty. “That’s better~” She pushed herself up from the plant, letting her knickers flutter down her knees and rest atop her boots. A few dribbles still trickled from her spout. Now that it was all over, Harriet realized just how awkward of a situation it had been, not just for her but for Ayla, who had just witnessed her unleash a mighty flood into an unsuspecting pot of soil. Ayla sat, squirming, staring blankly at Harriet. “S-Sorry, I r-really needed that.” She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, feeling the little prickles of her hairs standing on end. She bent over to grab her knickers when she felt a cold damp patch between her cheeks. “A-Ayla, would you mind…” She spun her finger, gesturing for Ayla to turn around. “I need to wipe.” It took the fiery-haired girl a moment to register that she was gawking like a drunkard in a brothel. “Oh! OH! Ah! Sorry!” She averted her leering looks and buried her head back into the books pages. “I wish that was me over that plant…” She whispered. She heard Harriet approach the table. A hand reached past her and grabbed one of the napkins from their dinner. “S-Sorry… I just need this for… you know.” Cloth shuffled behind her. Ayla could imagine it, almost as if she could see it; Harriet’s wet cheeks being pushed back into her knickers, her fat, round cheeks barely contained by the cotton. She smiled sinfully and continued with her reading. Harriet appeared shortly after, strolling past the table with a spring in her step and taking her seat, leaving what she’d done in the pot to stew with the soil. Steam rose up from the soil. “I’m all done.” She said, curling her lips into a smile. She sounded fatigued, her breath was heavy and ragged, her cheeks red and glistening with sweat. “Ooh, you had no idea how good that felt.” She let out a moan and leant back in her seat, savouring the feeling of an empty bladder. Ayla ignored her. She couldn’t listen to Harriet talk about how good it felt. Maybe when she wasn’t on the brink of bursting it would be tolerable, but right now it just weighed down on her. “Hey is something up with you?” Harriet asked, prodding the cover of the spellbook with her wand. “You’ve been really quiet and you’re looking pale. You feeling ill?” With the unrelenting assault against her maidenhood, Ayla knew she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. She pressed her hands atop her thighs and took a deep breath. “I… have to pee as well.” She whimpered, the shame of saying it aloud made her heart flutter. She could only stare down at her legs, watching her fidgeting thighs beneath her skirt. “Oh, Oh!” Harriet exclaimed as if she should’ve known. She perked up suddenly, leaning up and over the table. “How bad is it? Like is it pant-pissingly bad?” Ayla said nothing, letting her face, burning a bright ruby red, tell Harriet everything. “You idiot, you should’ve said something!” Harriet flailed her wand with scorn, furrowing her brows angrily. “You should go and do it in the plant pot if you’re about to piss yourself.” She gestured to the steaming pot with her wand. She shook her head furiously, refusing to entertain the idea. “There’s no need for that!” She protested. She brushed off the idea before Harriet could say another word. Being a Caravarni, Ayla was used to peeing in the bushes when nature called, but not like this. She couldn’t just squat down over a potted plant and relieve herself in it, especially when that potted plant belonged to her Mentor. The shame would never leave her, she’d be forced to live with it, knowing that plant had been moistened by her water. “I’ll be fine. I’m not too desperate.” She put on a fake smile and confidently brushed her fiery-hair out of her eyes to mask the urgency that was slowly chipping away at her. The pressure in her bladder was swelling, the soft bulge that protruded from her stomach had grown and it felt like she was about to explode. For now, Ayla buried her head back in her spellbook and tried to resume reading. This time she read quicker, practically skimming the pages. And then, after only a minute of reading, Ayla found exactly what she was looking for. As if the words on the page lit up, the passage she had desperately sought was right before her eyes. “Of course.” Ayla muttered, smacking her cheek in disbelief. “It’s Sentient Shadow!” She looked up at Harriet, eyes glowing and a bright smile. “The riddle - part of it is the summoning words of Sentient Shadow!” It was so obvious, so blatant that even the most novice of Magi would know it without the aid of a spellbook. No wonder Sidmere had her reading these books religiously. For that she smacked herself again. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Harriet threw her head back and stared blankly at the ceiling. “Of course! Shadows can only be seen with light and the moving under control thing.” She didn’t sound half as disappointed as Ayla. “Well, we’ve got the answer and you need to piss, right? Go show that stupid lock!” She cheered, clenching her fist. Were it not for her body’s cries for relief, she would’ve sat and read the passage over to make sure she was correct. But she had grown so full, so desperate beyond belief that she’d have to forgo any thorough research. She was close to soiling herself and as her body waned in strength until she felt weak she was holding herself on sheer willpower alone. She was growing hot, her whole body, but mostly between her legs, was burning. She’d grown jittery, her whole body shaking in an effort to keep herself moving. It was the only thing that staved off the growing pressure that welled between her legs. As quick as her feeble form would allow her Ayla pushed her chair back and hopped to her feet, slamming her legs closed and doubled over as the pressure hit her. “Hnng!” She hissed, her whole body tightening. Fearing that rushing would be more than her bulging bladder could bear, she dragged her feet across the floor, walking slowly, stiffly, forced to embrace the feeling of her fluids sloshing around inside of her. She dragged herself before the door. Her whole body was trembling like the cold had gotten to her. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek. It may have been a tear for all she knew. She squeezed her legs together to relieve the tension on the aching muscles between her thighs and stood up straight, head raised and brandishing a fierce look of determination painted over her weak, feverish expression. There wasn’t much she could do to ease the stress on her lower half. She prayed her tight form would be enough to deter even the smallest dribble. It hurt, the pain she was feeling with every passing second grew more intense. She felt fit to burst at the seams, her lower stomach spasmed and her legs shook. Her cheeks burned, cooled only by beads of sweat. Her lower lips quivered, dripping with sweat from the shakes. In the back of her mind Ayla heard this little voice that begged her to give up, telling her to collapse and let it all out just so she could bask in the warm relief that would follow. No. She wouldn’t allow it. “H-Heroes do not soil themselves.” She whispered a reassuring mantra to herself. All that stood between her and the warm, welcoming embrace of a lavatory seat was the lock Nidley had put in place. That lock, which hung from the door silently, half-covered by darkness, was the great beast to be slain. She ignored everything she was feeling, pushing it to the back of her mind so she could focus only on getting the door open. For a few moments she would have to endure the screaming in her head. She stood still, enjoying the heat from her thighs as they rubbed desperately against one another. With a low guttural groan the lock awakened and again offered its riddle. “Answer this rrrriddle…” Before it could speak, a twinge, no a strike from her bladder rocked Ayla between her thighs. It was so intense that she lashed out, stamping the floor with her foot and biting her lip, chewing down on it. “Hnnn…” You’re Sentient Shadow!” She screamed, forsaking decency and grabbing herself between the legs, fingering herself with an iron-clad grasp. “You’re the malformation spell Sentient Shadow.” She took a deep breath in the narrow hope of composing herself. “NOW OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!” Silence fell on the study, the whole chamber growing eerily quiet. The air was still. Ayla stood frozen, legs crossed and fear dripping from her body. She clenched her fists tightly, nails digging into her palm as a horrendous wave washed over her, striking her walls with enough force that she thought she was going to give in and flood her clothes. She endured it, though she feared it was not without repercussions. The seat of her knickers felt surprisingly damp. “You arrrre corrrrect.” The lock answered and clicked. The small latch wrapped around the door undid itself and the lock fell from the handle. Finally, it was over. Ayla cheered. She reached out to kick the lock aside and almost instantly realized that was not her wisest move. The only thing holding back her water was the pressure from her legs squeezing together. As her legs parted, her bladder seized the moment. A hot spurt leaked into her knickers, dampening her crotch. “Aah!” She whimpered, bending over and clamping her hands against her lower lips. She felt another spurt spill onto the tips of her fingers. “Ayla, are you okay?” Her antics had drawn Harriet’s attention. “You can make it on your own, right?” “Haa~ I’m fine. I’ve… just been sitting too long. Legs have fallen asleep.” She replied with a poorly convincing smile. I’m about to pee! I’m about to pee! I’M ABOUT TO PEE! “I’m going for a wee and then I’ll be back.” That small leak had given her a taste of the relief she sorely needed. With that first dribble Ayla could feel herself giving in. The soft spot between her legs burned like hellfire, her lips quivered beyond control and she could feel herself losing control; her walls widening for a larger flood that was pushing closer to the cotton of her knickers. She waddled forward and slammed her hand against the door handle, the cold brass chilling her sweaty palm was a victory of its own. She threw the door open, staring down the long stone corridor. Just a short walk, a minute at most. She could make it. She took her first step out, but as she did, another hot spurt burst from between her legs. At first Ayla didn’t care. She was determined to brave the short walk to the lavatory, but then there was another spurt, and another, and another. The fourth spurt soaked the seat of her knickers but it didn’t stop there. It came rushing out, a continuous hot flood that poured from between her lower lips like beer from a tap. “N-No…” Ayla whimpered, sliding down to her knees. It was over. A well thought battle of wills but in the end it was Ayla who lost. Sinking to the floor, Ayla gave up and let it happen, letting her knickers flood. A long hot stream poured from her lower lips, splattering against the seat of her knickers. Her maidenly forest grew wet, soaking through, her hair wet and clinging to her knickers. The relief was tremendous, sheer bliss that filled every inch of her body as her pee filled her knickers. She felt her bladder shrink with every passing second as it all poured out of her like a dam had burst. “Ahh~ Ahh~ Ooh~” She moaned, feeling a stronger wave of pleasure shooting through her whole body. It made her shudder. She bit her lip, stifling a heavenly moan. The cotton of her knickers grew heavy as they struggled to hold anymore of her piss. It kept coming and coming, a long unending stream. Her whole lower half was sopping wet and warm. Piss pooled in the seat of her knickers, the warmth spreading to her backside. She could feel the dampness against her anus, which twitched as her muscles tried, and failed, to tense up in an effort to stop her stream. It was like a reflex, her whole body trying to seize up, and struggling to stop her stream. Finally, when the cotton of her knickers could hold no more, Ayla felt her thighs starting to grow wet, and quickly after her shins. Her pee ran through her knickers, dribbling along the soft skin of her thighs and raining down to her knees. It didn’t stop, the streaks of piss that ran down her thighs quickly became one long downpour clinging to her thighs and dripping onto the floor, forming a large steaming lake around her. Ayla lost count of how long it had been. It must’ve been at least forty seconds. Forty long seconds of pissing into her knickers, helpless to stop it. Forty long seconds of near orgasmic relief that had her head high in the heavens. It was sheer bliss. Finally, it was over. A lake of steaming piss was slowly growing around her, her entire lower half had been soaked, her bare legs glistening in the light, and the faint bulge of her bladder had receded. It was finally over. “Ha… Ha… Ha…” Ayla moaned between ragged breaths. She sat motionless on the ground, sitting in the puddle of pee she had produced. Her thighs and butt were soaking wet. Slowly, her legs drifted apart and she felt on her backside, gaining a warm unwelcomed refreshment in the waiting wetness beneath her. Once the relief had settled, reality set in. So did the humiliation. Where a warm fuzzy feeling had her feeling better, reassuring her that at least she knew relief, a numbing coldness had set in. Ayla dropped her head in shame and glared at the large puddle surrounding her. She had done that; a lake and it had all come from her. The air was hot with the stench of fresh piss. Steam rose, shrouding her. Her sopping wet legs were quickly growing cold. Ayla had no words to say. She wanted to cry, to thrust her head against her pillow and hide away from the world. A grown girl, a hero, and she had soiled herself like a child. Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her. She felt herself being lifted up from the floor. She watched the puddle grow smaller as she was lifted to her feet. Trickles dripped from her thighs, landing with a splash in her piss. “Addilyn?” Harriet whispered softly in her ear. She used her full name, which was a rare occurrence. It made Ayla feel worse. “Are you okay?” “I w-wet myself.” Ayla stammered. She felt a tear running down her cheek. “I’m a grown girl, a Guild Apprentice, and I wet myself…” “I-It’s okay.” Harriet comforted her, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. Ayla’s wet legs brushed against Harriet’s skirt and she could feel her skirt soaking up the wetness. “It happens to the best of us, r-right?” The trembling in her voice told Ayla that Harriet was lost for words. Suddenly, Ayla pushed herself against Harriet and buried her face into her shoulder. “I actually wet myself…” She sobbed, pushing her face deeper into Harriet’s shirt. The darkness made it easier to hide her shame. She wrapped her arms around Harriet for comfort, feeling at ease as Harriet returned her hug. Knowing that Harriet didn’t mind as she pushed her wet legs against her made her feel at ease. She felt safe, secure when Harriet put her arms around her, like the world disappeared and there was nobody else but Harriet and herself. “There’s no need to worry.” Harriet told her, pulling her closer and whispering softly in her ear. “I’m not going to tell a soul, of course I’m not.” And then inspiration struck. She pulled herself away from Ayla and rushed to get her wand. “In fact, nobody has to know!” She twirled the wand. “W-What do you mean?” Ayla squeaked, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’ve been practicing a vanishing spell, Haven’t I?” She again twirled her wand and pointed it at the puddle of piss. “I think now would be a good time to use it!” That made Ayla feel a tad better, or at least enough for her to smile. “Will it work?” Harriet nodded. “Of course it will. If it’s smaller than my own weight I can make it disappear. I think that’s less than my own weight.” She said with a playful giggle. “Just watch as I show you how a true illusionist works.” With a swish and a flick Harriet raised the wand to the tip of her chin. She stood over the puddle, tapping the air with her wand. She needed to examine everything about the item she wished to vanish: The size, the smell, the texture. Everything. She measured the shape, the small streaks that spread from the puddle. Next she measured the volume and colour. “Fucking hell.” She muttered under her breath. “She was really holding it in.” “What are you doing?” Ayla asked. She stood behind Harriet, tapping her fingers against each other. She’d never known a Magi use a vanishing spell and she didn’t quite understand why Harriet was stood staring into a puddle of her pee. Her thighs were starting to feel clammy now that her pee was beginning to dry. Her maidenhood felt damp and sticky. The smell of piss in the air began to turn, growing cold and stale. All she could do was rub her legs together and try to ignore the discomfort. “Okay.” Harriet took a deep breath and raised the tip of her wand. She channeled a sliver of magical energy into her wand. The tip began to glow as the energy collected, illuminating the air with a purple light. “Okay.” She repeated, taking another breath. With a sudden flick, as if slashing through the air, Harriet thrust her wand diagonally in front of her. The air that touched the tip of her wand began to shimmer purple, leaving a hovering tear. Ayla’s pee too began to glow a sparkling purple. She raised the wand up, and mimicking her movements the puddle lifted from the floor. Little droplets of pee danced in the air, following the motions of Harriet’s wand. “How cool is this, huh?” She said, waving the wand around and making the droplets dance. “I-It’s pretty impressive.” Ayla said with burning cheeks as she watched her pee dance in the air. “Even if I do this?” Harriet giggled and directed the floating droplets toward Ayla. “Ah!” Ayla yelped, leaping backwards and narrowly avoiding the drops of pee Harriet directed toward her. “Harriet! Will you please just make it disappear!” “Alright.” She huffed, moving her wand in the opposite direction. “Ready?” For the grand finale Harriet lifted her wand high above her head, as high as she could reach. She let it hover above her and then, in a single motion, brought it down. All the droplets hovering in the air came down, crashing against the floor. The air exploded, erupting in a burst of magical energy. The light was blinding. Both girls recoiled, shielding their eyes from the overwhelming purple light. Once the light had vanished, Ayla peered up. The first thing she noticed was that the puddle was gone. The floor was clean, spotless as if nothing had happened. “Woah!” Ayla couldn’t believe it. Harriet’s spell had worked. “It really worked?” She took a step forward and looked down. It was really gone; No more pee, no puddle, no foul smell. “It really worked! Thank you, Harriet! Thank you! Thank you!” “It’s no problem.” The arrogant Magi twirled and tapped her head with her wand, striking a pose. “It’s a great little spell to have.” “It is! Where did-” Ayla paused as a sudden cold spell took her by surprise. A whispering wind fluttered beneath her dress and she could feel it right against her lower lips. “Did it get cold all of a sudden?” She reached down to grab the hem of her dress, but instead she only grabbed air. “What… WAH!” Ayla shrieked. Her skirt was missing, and just that, her knickers had vanished too. “Where’s my… and my… AHH! Look away!” She continued to scream, turning her back to Harriet. “You know I can still see your arse.” Harriet said lewdly, giggling. “IT’S NOT FUNNY HARRIET! DID YOU VANISH MY SKIRT!?” She continued to scream, fuming to the point her whole body was glowing red. “I didn’t mean to!” Harriet tried to defend herself while masking a snicker. “You’ve got a really cute arse, haven’t you? How have I never noticed that?” It was round, soft and shapely, a proper girl’s arse. “Harriet!” Ayla shrieked, thrusting her hands behind her to try and hide her butt. “What am I supposed to do? This is your fault, you know! How am I going to explain to Nidley or Sidmere that I’m not wearing a skirt? Or underwear for that matter!?” The thought of explaining this to her Mentor made her go weak at the knees with worry. There was no way this could be happening. “Alright! Alright! Ehh… well, the door is open. Just rush out to your bunk and grab a clean pair of skivvies.” She suggested, sounding proud of the idea. Ayla could only huff at the idea. “How am I meant to walk the halls like this? No! Don’t turn around, you already know what’s wrong!” “Okay, I know what to do.” Harriet shrugged her shoulders. “I guess there’s only one thing for it.” She hooked her hands beneath her skirt and undid it. Her skirt fluttered to the floor and she stood before Ayla with her skivvies proudly on show. There was a small dribble of pee from where she hadn’t wiped after using the plant. “Here put these on.” She said, offering her skirt to Ayla.” She took Harriet’s skirt and held it in her hands. It was warm with a faint smell of lavender, Harriet’s favourite scent. “You want me to wear your skirt?” She looked up, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Well I won’t need it if I’m staying here. And I at least have my knickers to cover up my pride and joy.” She thrust her hips forward, showing off her knickers. “F-Fine. Turn around and let me change then.” While Harriet stood with her back turned, Ayla quickly put on the skirt. It was loose-fitting around her slender figure, which wasn’t a surprise. Harriet had always been pudgy around her waist. She pulled the skirt up and fastened the belt. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She sighed, adjusting the skirt. “It’ll be fine. Everybody is out in town getting pissed anyway. Just run back to your bunk, grab a clean pair of kegs and get back here.” Ayla rushed to the door, stopping at it and turning back. She turned around and with a glowing smile thanked Harriet. “T-Thanks for doing that for me, Harriet.” She said warmly. “No problem, little sis’.” She replied with a warm smile. “Now go get changed, and give your bits a rinse in the restroom too.” Once Ayla had vanished down the hall, Harriet sank down into a nearby chair and sighed. “Fucking hell what a night.” She said, resting her eyes. She swung forward and looked over to the plant pot in the corner, running her fingers through her hair and grimacing. “How the fuck will I explain to Master Sidmere that I took a piss in his plant?”
  10. Hello again! This is now my second time delving into the interactive stories forum. My first one, A Little Assistance, went unfinished, most likely because I had gotten too involved in the plot and it started to not mesh very well with the interactive story format. As well as that, the updates were getting kind of lengthy and it was pretty hard to keep going with it. So for this story, I'm going back to the basics, and starting off with something a little simpler, inspired by RPGs. I don't have any goal in mind, so we'll see where this goes. It should hopefully be fun! _____________________________________________________ (note: this story will not be illustrated, i just wanted to doodle the protagonist!!) Your name is Bianca Liette, and today is your fifteenth birthday! Ever since you were little, you've been helping your father manage the village general store, which was a task you took to enthusiastically. All sorts of people came and went, buying and selling, with all sorts of stories to share, and the more you heard from merchants and travelers and mercenaries and old wizened wizards, the more you longed to see the world yourself. You're a girl with an adventurous spirit, a girl who wasn't meant to be trapped up in a shop all her life. Today, you have reached the age where young villagers are said to be independent and able to fend for themselves, and you are naturally very excited! Dad has always been telling you to wait until you were older before you were allowed to go beyond the village gate alone, and so today is a day you have been looking forward to for a very, very long time. Your very own adventure is about to begin! --- You're sitting in bed in the store's upstairs room, tucked underneath your blankets and wearing your silken nightgown and yesterday's panties. Your curly brown hair is a bit of a mess from your slumber, and since you just woke up, you're a bit thirsty, hungry, and need to use the restroom. Although you feel a bit drowsy, you're also very eager to get up and see what your dad has gotten you for your birthday! You should probably get dressed, and take care of all of those things mentioned previously, but you are also very excited and they are not the most important things on your mind right now. 9:30AM 1st day of the 1st month (In this universe, all months are 30 days long, and measured relative to Bianca's birthday, for convenience!) HP: 100/100 MP: 0/0 Belly: 30/100 Hydration: 20/100 Bladder: 60/100 Tiredness: 0/100 (These are your stats! HP is a measure of your health, which is your overall wellbeing! Doing unhealthy or harmful things, or getting into fights will cause you to take damage! If your HP reaches 0, you will die. Let's try not to die! MP are your mana points, which represent how much magic you are capable of using! However, at the moment, you do not know how to use magic. You'll probably need to do something about that first. Belly is a measure of how hungry you are, and Hydration is a measure of how thirsty you are, with 100 being sated/quenched and 0 being starving/dehydrated. Your bladder fullness is obviously a measure of how much you need the restroom, and your tiredness is how sleepy you are. You may earn more stats over time depending on what you do, and these will be added to the list as they become relevant.) Equipment: Nightgown, worn panties Hands: None (Your equipment is a list of the items you currently are wearing on your person, whereas your inventory lists the items you are carrying. At the moment, you can only carry two items in your inventory, as you do not have a bag, only your hands! You should try and acquire a bag at some point.) What should you do? (Actions will usually be left entirely to the readers (such as in this case), in which case the general consensus will decide the outcome, assuming it fits the current situation. When it comes to specific choices, the choice with the most votes will win. The story will usually try to leave you with some freedom, and only restrict you if it is important to do so!)
  11. 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!
  12. Please don’t mind any spelling or caps errors “I see the stars” she murmured as the dark of night befell them as they lay on the hard ground. The two women stared off into the darkness as they sleep the remains of a battle crumbling beside them. *three months beforehand* The lord sat on her throne her sword and staff hanging from a armor stand. the room was pristine not a speck of dust as the lord who was a women with flowing brown hair with sharp features and was muscular but somewhat out of shape mostly with her years on the throne to blame She sat consumed by worry as she waited to receive a message that could be arriving anytime she was sweating with worry as so she claimed The message arrived the lord squirmed with...anticipation? Anyways the lord listened closely as a servant read the letter aloud the lord looked...worried? As she had her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth clenched halfway through the letter a faint wind passed through the room and the lords expression changed from the clenched jaw to a deep sigh with a faint smile on her face she adjusted her seat and finished listening the message confirmed it they were at war The lord excused herself claiming that she required time to develop a plan for war and she walked to her room called her most personal servant and locked the door shut The lord who’s name happened to be Melissa extended her arms letting her servant by the name of Anna Anna begann undoing the laces on the back of Melissa‘s dress letting her take deep breaths freely anna also removed the silk fabric of the garment supporting Melissa’s breasts soon Melissa’s entire top was off and Anna began removing the layered skirts that covered a simple fabric miniskirt held on by a fine leather belt that few would ever see something else even fewer wound see the skirt itself was soaked through anna who unfortunately was having to kneel to remove such garments had her head unfortunately close to the skirt that was hopelessly stained yellow Melissa shifted and said “hurry up i to...just hurry” as her legs squeezed together Anna was use to doing this as she finally finished unbuckling the belt And all that was left were the formerly white panties that were regretfully full with the mess squished almost flat against her rear but anna removed the panties and diligently wiped Melissa’s private’s until they were clean all the while Melissa tried her hardest not to let out all urine that was left as she was about to rush to the bathroom a knock echoed off the hardwood door “ queen allies have arrived and are requesting a immediately council” anna without missing a beat took something out of a nearby drawer and stated “please spread your legs my lord I highly recommend you wear this” it was a soft garment with buttons on the sides and three inch thick cloth “why must I” Melissa asked trying to escape to her bathroom “Well...ummm....comfort...and convenience” anna said not giving Melissa much time to think slipping the undergarments on and swiftly redressing the queen With that Melissa was rushed out the door to the awaiting lords Melissa attempted to walk regally but it was difficult with the unusual bulk. She sat at the large square table and joined the normal conversation minutes of this pass and something didn’t seem right to Melissa Before she had ascended to power Melissa had been a soldier and she knew when something was wrong now was one of those times as mere seconds later smoke rippled off the surface of the table yet her days on the battlefield had be more than four years ago her old habits took over Melissa rushed to the armor stand and swiftly unhooked the staff from its leather bindings she heard noises from the high smoke she took a deep breath and remembered her training “focus remove distractions”she thought as she got ready to rid herself of the bulging pain in her bladder she took a deep breath as the golden liquid spilled down but strangely none ran down her legs and at that moment she knew what the garment was. “a diaper” “haven’t worn one in a while” she relaxed her body and got ready for any oncoming threats “Hey lissa” one of her friends whispered they of course were not supposed be taking they were marching to battle lissa as most called her, was marching to her first battle as a solider she in the light plate armor alongside many others all had thoughts of glory and grander not knowing whats to come “what is it” lissa whispered back “do you have to pee” the friend asked “no” lissa lied “ok” similar small banter was shot back and forth until they saw them...the foe they marched against Lissa joined the charge holding the flimsy looking blade she had been given and stared hacking and slashing and in a blur she was separated from her unit to a near empty side of the battlefield A person in a showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women strolled along with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her and turned to see lissa all alone Lissa held her sword shakily and ran at the women who in one smooth motion took her weapon and stabbed at lissa Lissa fell back to see her Breastplate has saved her lissa sat up and scuttled back seeing the women standing above her “looks like i got you” she said in a peppy voice lissa was terrified as she stumbled backwards the poorly made pants of her uniform tearing of on a patch of briers she has gone through ripping the cheap fabric off of her chest The women approached once more and tilted her head and said in the kind of voice that a parent uses on a small child ” aww did you wet yourself” she said as lissa looked down to see the panties she was wearing as she saw more and more rippled out saturating the gray panties the women licked her lips and said “i may just enjoy your company as she got closer and lissa’s world shifted to black Melissa stood steadfast preparing for whatever came a she spotted a flash of blue and lunged slamming the blunt silver tip of the staff into the assassin the women who was wearing A showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women hit the ground with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her “You” she said “did you wet yourself this time as well” she said as she and Melissa started clashing there weapon the women’s halbert and Melissa’s staff they fought nearly as equals Lissa awoke upright naked with her hands bound somewhat comfortably below her a pit above her the women in blue sat up from a nearby chair of the log cabin they sat in “here drink this” the women demanded and lissa still half awake only started noticing her the current events the women was pouring a green liquid down her throat but lissa didn’t struggle She was too afraid the women bent over and leaned close putting her head against lissa’s stomach “do you feel it” “rippling throughout your body shaking it to its core” Lissa felt a sharp pain as the strange liquid shot through her taking anything in her stomach and shooting out into the pit in a pressurized jet after nearly two minutes of this it slowed spitting into several trails spilling down her thighs The women in blue placed a long plank of wood across the pit and began removing lissa’s bounds lissa in a moment of panic she kicked wildly knocking the women into the pit below The women screeched and was silenced with a splash lissa pulled the wood plank until it fell of into the pit hitting the women’s head knocking her out lissa fell backwards onto the floor trying to stay her breath She spent minutes before standing back up and beginning to rummage through the log cabin knowing she couldn’t leave in the nude in the first drawer she found several other skirts similar to the one the women was wearing she tried on a gray one that seemed like anyone could see up yet when she looked in the mirror to see nothing was visible she moved and shook but it always stayed down she couldn’t even lift it up it was completely stiff lissa decided it was to showy Lissa found normal foodstuffs in the kitchen and nothing of interest in the living room but she found the women’s bedroom The bedroom had many drawers and dressers along with armor stands wearing everything from full scale maile to a pink tutu lissa began looting Lissa found a simple cloth top and a knee length skirt with built in fabric panties that comfortably cradled her privates, lissa opened a drawer to see numerous folded cloth panties lissa snagged some strangely enough at the bottom of the drawer there was a false bottom, she lifted it away to see what looked like...diapers twenty of them three different types five pull-ups five with tapes on the sides and ten that didn’t connect in any logical way but as soon as she picked one up to get a better look she watched as it moved on its own and disappeared only for her to feel it slot itself in between her legs she now knew what the skirt was for. Lissa shamefully took all of the diapers for herself and there was a strange contraption that involved several ropes and a diaper a object that confirmed that this woman ether was or had contact with a magic user, they were uncommon but did exist Lissa on her way out took a halbert with her and left the cabin Melissa parried a stab from the women’s halbert and returned with full force hitting the women in the stomach and slamming her into a wall Melissa continued with a savage stream of attacks the silver tip of her staff catching the women’s clothes and tearing them off the women tried to hold it in but her body released a small amount of urine with astounding speed the women threw a object at Melissa but she knocked to back only for the contraption to spring to life with chains binding to the walls and methodically removing what was left of her skirt and panties and the chains holding her still pulled an absurdly large diaper onto her with metal chains across the bottom and sides finally the contraption snapped a lock on the chained diaper so even if she did escape the diaper would stay on yet the contraption finished dangling from the ceiling, Melissa looked at the panties on the ground to see that the bottom was soaked through Melissa in a mocking tone said “aww did you wet your self” “did you piss your panties” the women quietly whispered something “what did you say”Melissa said the women spoke quietly and said “yes” she whispered “are you sure I thought you said “I was so scared i wet my panties” didn’t you” The women yelled “I WAS SO SCARED I WET MY PANTIES NOW LET ME DOW-” she said before cutting herself off and her hands shooting down to her crotch to futility stop herself but it no avail the diaper slowly turned yellow as small droplets fell to the floor “anna remove her and place her in the dungeon and don’t give her any clothes ether” said as she began dragging the other five unconscious queens to her bedchamber to awaken them Melissa had awkwardly woken up the rest of the lords one of which had wet herself queen grenson one had wet and messed herself queen mespisr Two admitted had admitted to wearing diaper queens shmits and lokedth And the last one who had clearly messed herself but denied it as she winced and sat down with a loud squelch but she continued denying it queen cosuply Grenson borrowed some of Melissa’s panties and a dress Mespisr had brought her own change shmits didn’t need a change since she didn’t wet to badly lokedth had a servant change her diaper cosuply had denied any help and took the no stops ride home without a change As soon as they all left Melissa locked her chambers and demanded for anna to undress her “whats the rush” anna asked “I need to use the restroom please hurry” “Just go thats the point of the diaper” anna said Melissa was annoyed but anna was right as she relaxed as a large bulge formed on her rear visible even with her dress on The feeling took her back to her war days Anna was undressing Melissa when the question appeared “anna where do you get this diaper on short notice” “Oh it was one of mine i used them for long trips” “Oh ok then” and they finished in silence “There is a war going on” Melissa thought sitting on her throne “here i am surrounded by guards and servants undisturbed by the people struck down on the battlefield” She had made her decision She was joining the war Part one  any recommendations are welcome 
  13. Please don’t mind any spelling or caps errors “I see the stars” she murmured as the dark of night befell them as they lay on the hard ground. The two women stared off into the darkness as they sleep the remains of a battle crumbling beside them. *three months beforehand* The lord sat on her throne her sword and staff hanging from a armor stand. the room was pristine not a speck of dust as the lord who was a women with flowing brown hair with sharp features and was muscular but somewhat out of shape mostly with her years on the throne to blame She sat consumed by worry as she waited to receive a message that could be arriving anytime she was sweating with worry as so she claimed The message arrived the lord squirmed with...anticipation? Anyways the lord listened closely as a servant read the letter aloud the lord looked...worried? As she had her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth clenched halfway through the letter a faint wind passed through the room and the lords expression changed from the clenched jaw to a deep sigh with a faint smile on her face she adjusted her seat and finished listening the message confirmed it they were at war The lord excused herself claiming that she required time to develop a plan for war and she walked to her room called her most personal servant and locked the door shut The lord who’s name happened to be Melissa extended her arms letting her servant by the name of Anna Anna begann undoing the laces on the back of Melissa‘s dress letting her take deep breaths freely anna also removed the silk fabric of the garment supporting Melissa’s breasts soon Melissa’s entire top was off and Anna began removing the layered skirts that covered a simple fabric miniskirt held on by a fine leather belt that few would ever see something else even fewer wound see the skirt itself was soaked through anna who unfortunately was having to kneel to remove such garments had her head unfortunately close to the skirt that was hopelessly stained yellow Melissa shifted and said “hurry up i to...just hurry” as her legs squeezed together Anna was use to doing this as she finally finished unbuckling the belt And all that was left were the formerly white panties that were regretfully full with the mess squished almost flat against her rear but anna removed the panties and diligently wiped Melissa’s private’s until they were clean all the while Melissa tried her hardest not to let out all urine that was left as she was about to rush to the bathroom a knock echoed off the hardwood door “ queen allies have arrived and are requesting a immediately council” anna without missing a beat took something out of a nearby drawer and stated “please spread your legs my lord I highly recommend you wear this” it was a soft garment with buttons on the sides and three inch thick cloth “why must I” Melissa asked trying to escape to her bathroom “Well...ummm....comfort...and convenience” anna said not giving Melissa much time to think slipping the undergarments on and swiftly redressing the queen With that Melissa was rushed out the door to the awaiting lords Melissa attempted to walk regally but it was difficult with the unusual bulk. She sat at the large square table and joined the normal conversation minutes of this pass and something didn’t seem right to Melissa Before she had ascended to power Melissa had been a soldier and she knew when something was wrong now was one of those times as mere seconds later smoke rippled off the surface of the table yet her days on the battlefield had be more than four years ago her old habits took over Melissa rushed to the armor stand and swiftly unhooked the staff from its leather bindings she heard noises from the high smoke she took a deep breath and remembered her training “focus remove distractions”she thought as she got ready to rid herself of the bulging pain in her bladder she took a deep breath as the golden liquid spilled down but strangely none ran down her legs and at that moment she knew what the garment was. “a diaper” “haven’t worn one in a while” she relaxed her body and got ready for any oncoming threats “Hey lissa” one of her friends whispered they of course were not supposed be taking they were marching to battle lissa as most called her, was marching to her first battle as a solider she in the light plate armor alongside many others all had thoughts of glory and grander not knowing whats to come “what is it” lissa whispered back “do you have to pee” the friend asked “no” lissa lied “ok” similar small banter was shot back and forth until they saw them...the foe they marched against Lissa joined the charge holding the flimsy looking blade she had been given and stared hacking and slashing and in a blur she was separated from her unit to a near empty side of the battlefield A person in a showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women strolled along with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her and turned to see lissa all alone Lissa held her sword shakily and ran at the women who in one smooth motion took her weapon and stabbed at lissa Lissa fell back to see her Breastplate has saved her lissa sat up and scuttled back seeing the women standing above her “looks like i got you” she said in a peppy voice lissa was terrified as she stumbled backwards the poorly made pants of her uniform tearing of on a patch of briers she has gone through ripping the cheap fabric off of her chest The women approached once more and tilted her head and said in the kind of voice that a parent uses on a small child ” aww did you wet yourself” she said as lissa looked down to see the panties she was wearing as she saw more and more rippled out saturating the gray panties the women licked her lips and said “i may just enjoy your company as she got closer and lissa’s world shifted to black Melissa stood steadfast preparing for whatever came a she spotted a flash of blue and lunged slamming the blunt silver tip of the staff into the assassin the women who was wearing A showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women hit the ground with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her “You” she said “did you wet yourself this time as well” she said as she and Melissa started clashing there weapon the women’s halbert and Melissa’s staff they fought nearly as equals Lissa awoke upright naked with her hands bound somewhat comfortably below her a pit above her the women in blue sat up from a nearby chair of the log cabin they sat in “here drink this” the women demanded and lissa still half awake only started noticing her the current events the women was pouring a green liquid down her throat but lissa didn’t struggle She was too afraid the women bent over and leaned close putting her head against lissa’s stomach “do you feel it” “rippling throughout your body shaking it to its core” Lissa felt a sharp pain as the strange liquid shot through her taking anything in her stomach and shooting out into the pit in a pressurized jet after nearly two minutes of this it slowed spitting into several trails spilling down her thighs The women in blue placed a long plank of wood across the pit and began removing lissa’s bounds lissa in a moment of panic she kicked wildly knocking the women into the pit below The women screeched and was silenced with a splash lissa pulled the wood plank until it fell of into the pit hitting the women’s head knocking her out lissa fell backwards onto the floor trying to stay her breath She spent minutes before standing back up and beginning to rummage through the log cabin knowing she couldn’t leave in the nude in the first drawer she found several other skirts similar to the one the women was wearing she tried on a gray one that seemed like anyone could see up yet when she looked in the mirror to see nothing was visible she moved and shook but it always stayed down she couldn’t even lift it up it was completely stiff lissa decided it was to showy Lissa found normal foodstuffs in the kitchen and nothing of interest in the living room but she found the women’s bedroom The bedroom had many drawers and dressers along with armor stands wearing everything from full scale maile to a pink tutu lissa began looting Lissa found a simple cloth top and a knee length skirt with built in fabric panties that comfortably cradled her privates, lissa opened a drawer to see numerous folded cloth panties lissa snagged some strangely enough at the bottom of the drawer there was a false bottom, she lifted it away to see what looked like...diapers twenty of them three different types five pull-ups five with tapes on the sides and ten that didn’t connect in any logical way but as soon as she picked one up to get a better look she watched as it moved on its own and disappeared only for her to feel it slot itself in between her legs she now knew what the skirt was for. Lissa shamefully took all of the diapers for herself and there was a strange contraption that involved several ropes and a diaper a object that confirmed that this woman ether was or had contact with a magic user, they were uncommon but did exist Lissa on her way out took a halbert with her and left the cabin Melissa parried a stab from the women’s halbert and returned with full force hitting the women in the stomach and slamming her into a wall Melissa continued with a savage stream of attacks the silver tip of her staff catching the women’s clothes and tearing them off the women tried to hold it in but her body released a small amount of urine with astounding speed the women threw a object at Melissa but she knocked to back only for the contraption to spring to life with chains binding to the walls and methodically removing what was left of her skirt and panties and the chains holding her still pulled an absurdly large diaper onto her with metal chains across the bottom and sides finally the contraption snapped a lock on the chained diaper so even if she did escape the diaper would stay on yet the contraption finished dangling from the ceiling, Melissa looked at the panties on the ground to see that the bottom was soaked through Melissa in a mocking tone said “aww did you wet your self” “did you piss your panties” the women quietly whispered something “what did you say”Melissa said the women spoke quietly and said “yes” she whispered “are you sure I thought you said “I was so scared i wet my panties” didn’t you” The women yelled “I WAS SO SCARED I WET MY PANTIES NOW LET ME DOW-” she said before cutting herself off and her hands shooting down to her crotch to futility stop herself but it no avail the diaper slowly turned yellow as small droplets fell to the floor “anna remove her and place her in the dungeon and don’t give her any clothes ether” said as she began dragging the other five unconscious queens to her bedchamber to awaken them Melissa had awkwardly woken up the rest of the lords one of which had wet herself queen grenson one had wet and messed herself queen mespisr Two admitted had admitted to wearing diaper queens shmits and lokedth And the last one who had clearly messed herself but denied it as she winced and sat down with a loud squelch but she continued denying it queen cosuply Grenson borrowed some of Melissa’s panties and a dress Mespisr had brought her own change shmits didn’t need a change since she didn’t wet to badly lokedth had a servant change her diaper cosuply had denied any help and took the no stops ride home without a change As soon as they all left Melissa locked her chambers and demanded for anna to undress her “whats the rush” anna asked “I need to use the restroom please hurry” “Just go thats the point of the diaper” anna said Melissa was annoyed but anna was right as she relaxed as a large bulge formed on her rear visible even with her dress on The feeling took her back to her war days Anna was undressing Melissa when the question appeared “anna where do you get this diaper on short notice” “Oh it was one of mine i used them for long trips” “Oh ok then” and they finished in silence “There is a war going on” Melissa thought sitting on her throne “here i am surrounded by guards and servants undisturbed by the people struck down on the battlefield” She had made her decision She was joining the war Part one any recommendations are welcome
  14. Welcome to Mars Life: Humanity Explored, my first of what I hope to be several interactive stories here on Omorashi.org. In this story, every decision matters -and not in the typical sense either. Every path you take, every person you talk to, every decision you make will change the story, sometimes immediately, and definitely in the future. If you have played Mass Effect, you can think of it as similar to that, if not then just know that everything matters. Mars Life, if you have been around to remember, was a story I wrote here a couple years ago which sadly (although trying twice) I never actually finished. Now though I'm ready. I have general outlines done and considering the recent popularity of Interactive stories on the board, I feel as if its the best medium to get it across. In this story you will have alot of leeway with how our character interact with the other characters. You can start a romantic relationship for example, or you could renounce your entire social group. All is fair game. During the story, death is possible, and death is final. if you die in the game, it is game over. Be safe, be careful and most importantly watch out. I will warn though, i'm not the best artist. That said, I will be doing images because even if they are bad, they help set the feel of the story. I hope everyone enjoys, and welcome to Mars Life: Humanity Explored. ============================================================ "Up until recently life on mars has been a no-go. Although after decades of the Sol expansion project, we have finally enabled Mars as a suitable home for the Human Race away from Earth. Mars, home to 1 Billion people, all of which live within the three cities on the planets surface. My name is Emma Warian, I am a 16 year old female Adept who lives in New Avalon, the capital city of Mars. Adepts are people who -though some genetic mutation- have that ability to use what old societies would call 'magic', or atleast thats what my parents have told me. Out of the entire human race, only a couple million actually have Adept powers, so you could say that I'm special; special enough that adepts have been separated to a special school on Mars due to the constant threats of kidnapping and death from the more closed-minded. Luckily most of the population is cool with us, but the threat is still real enough that the SOL Government wants to keep us safe, we are the future of the adept trait after all. I guess I should mention, my main Adept power is the ability to read into the near future. I can't control when it happens, nor is it always clear what I am predicting when it happens, but more often than not I am correct. Other than that though my secondary Adapt power is the ability to control my local electromagnetic fields on a subatomic level to allow myself to levitate, something I dont have completely down yet, but I can still use the power to push or pull objects at a short distance. Welcome to Mars! ========================================================= Prologue ======================================================== >> May 18, 2811 >> New Avalon, Mars -- -- (Play every post) It was a dark and cloudy night. Everything was normal except "A-OUGH!" you yelled out in pain as you ran down a pathway. You didn't know why you were running, or how you got where you were. You had never seen this area before, yet you were here, running. Behind you in the far distance you could hear the sounds of gunfire in addition to sounds you had never heard before in your life. Closer than the gunfire, you could hear the sounds of someone or something following you, but for some reason instead of looking back you continued to run. Running down the path you could smell wide scale burning, though not like any burning; it was like thick smoke which filled your nostrils and made you want to choke. Because of your constant running, your heart was burning and your lungs gasping for air. As you continued to run, you came across two separate pathways, to the left a road which continued what seemed to be out of New Avalon. To the right was a forest with a pathway cutting through it. As the pathway came closer your body pulled you down the --Left Path (Road seemingly out of the city) --Right Path (Forest with a path through it) --Path you were just down (Turn around and head back)
  15. This is another story I decided to reedit to share here. Unfortunately, this one has a lot of backstory to it. I don't think it gets in the way of the wetting though. Either way, the story is set in a world of many different types of elf-like people, Our protagonists are 'Zindu', part of a special group of maids/butlers that serve high society (and sometimes do sneaky assassin/spy stuff if necessary). All of the Zindu, are Xin elves, who have an unfortunate form of emotional empathy that makes them great service staff but also means that when people get horny around them... they have trouble not getting horny as well. Their great embarrassment is that while they try to appear classy to everyone else, in private their hormonal years are usually spent in a sexy feedback loop. Anyway I've only written one Omo story in this setting so far. This paste has some extra setting notes. This one has the other stories that have no Omo, just a lot of semi-lewdness with Princesses. Zilli and Xander's First Mistake Xander wanted to think he didn’t have time to worry about the Zilli problem. If he ignored her, maybe eventually she would go away on her own. She could, if desperate enough, request permission to leave her role with the Queen. But he knew better. No Zindu would pass up the opportunity to work for the Queen. It was dangerous, it was difficult, and it was everything that a member of the Zindu could ever hope for. She was the ultimate client, it was the chance to do the most for the world. His presence disrupted that for Zilli, he was an opposite number that could steal her glory. He could tell himself it was his assignment first, and that he couldn’t let the small-minded thoughts of those beneath him slow him down, but he still stayed out of his own room for the whole night. He stayed busy until exhaustion threatened to knock him out, then hid out of sight until he thought that woman had left. In the morning, he snuck back to his room. He found Zilli gone, her new bed made, her belongings locked up tight. Xander let out a sigh of relief, and cleaned himself for the new day. He didn’t have any new task, but he was sure the princesses wouldn’t give him the luxury of a day off. Besides, he had to show Zilli that she couldn’t slow him down, couldn’t disrupt his progress with the people of the palace. He catalogued the events of the previous day in his journal before locking it away and moving to the halls. In particular he stayed on the lower levels. He was worried about princess Nuuna, and considering he once saw her walking the bottom floors among the servants, he thought it might be possible to see her there once more. The servant girls in the halls were nearly all fair-folk, moving quickly to some place or another. They all had hands filled with towels, pans, or trays. Some could be heard barking commands, letting personal servants know what food to deliver, what linens to grab, where they were needed most. It was a simple brute force method of service, but Xander respected it. The Zindu were not common maids, and so didn’t have to worry about solving every little inconvenience in the lives of a great many. They served the few, and they served their particular wants and needs. It allowed them to go above and beyond to help, it gave them time to understand what was necessary instead of what was asked for. “She’s dead, no one to talk.” Xander’s ears perked up and he stopped mid-stride. He was near a cross-section between two halls, and women were passing in each direction. Regardless, the words reached him crystal clear. He looked around, trying to find anyone that might look suspicious, but all he saw were different variations of the same maid uniform. He continued to walk, but focused on the different voices, trying to catch the same tone. “It will end, because we will make it end.” Xander dodged a girl running with sheets over her shoulder before turning toward the voice. A maid was with a noble, neither appeared to be Fair-folk, but among the sea of common girls it was easy to overlook them. They turned a corner, and Xander followed, trying to pick up on what they could be talking about. He still had reasons to believe that the attack on Princess Opel was a staged diversion, meant to throw him off the trail of a real assassin within the palace. But these weren’t Nodru, and that meant if these were involved, then the conspiracy against the royal family was larger than he previously suspected. He hid just around the corner and watched as they walked toward an office. He pretended to pay attention to the different women walking past the intersection, but instead focused on the body language of the two having their clandestine meeting. The maid was the one who was talking earlier. Her hair was black, her face a little dour. It was possible she was a Medika. Her serious expression matched her terrible message from earlier. She held herself taller than any maid, and seemed fine delivering her foul message. “This isn’t the place for this,” the noble woman with her said, “all I know is that we can’t rest while there is work to do.” The noble was without a doubt Medika. Unlike her servant partner, the noble had all the marks of the magicks inclined women from the valley of yore. Xander felt a shiver go up his spine. Maybe it was the idea of betraying the Queen-of-All, it disturbed him to the core. He didn’t have proof yet, but that just meant he needed to investigate. Zilli’s high pitched voice broke his concentration, “what do you think you’re doing?” He whipped his head around to see her approaching from behind him. She was in her usual uniform, a black frilled skirt, a black coat with a red vest underneath that wasn’t unlike his. So that was what he felt. She looked rushed, her stance rigid, and her eyes barely focusing on him. Xander put up a finger to shush her. She didn’t move to slow down, but she didn’t miss a chance to chastise him. As she prepared to walk past, he could see she was going to go around the corner right toward his suspects. “I swear it, if you are trying to cause more trouble, I’ll report you-” Xander grabbed her by the arm and shushed her again. He almost didn’t hear it over Zilli’s mindless aggravation. The maid said, “step in just a moment, I’ll show it to you.” The door opened, and while Xander held Zilli, the maid and noble stepped into the room in the hall. The door slid shut behind them. Zilli forced herself from his grip, and for a moment her face was flush with panic before going back to her usual frustration. “Keep your hands off of me, I haven’t forgotten you that quickly,” Zilli said as she brushed down her skirt. He nodded toward the corner and hall beyond. Despite everything, he knew that her skills could be helpful in a situation like this. She was trained as a member of the Zindu, and that meant that even while resistant, she had expertise that made her far more useful than anyone else on the floor when it came to unraveling a dangerous plot. “What?” She said, leaning around the corner for just a moment to see a closed door, “what do you want? I have important matters to attend to.” “Is it a client?” Xander asked with genuine interest. Zilli looked away from him and shuffled from foot to foot, “no, it is none of your business.” “Then you must help,” he replied, “it could be a matter of the Queen’s safety.” She looked like she was ready to bolt at any moment. He could feel the nervous tension coming off of her, knotting up inside her, along with something else. She was conflicted, but he couldn’t worry about her small obstructions. He needed her help, this was her chance to prove she was a Zindu first, instead of dedicated to standing in his way. “If you give me a moment,” she started, looking one way then the other, “I’ll return and help. But for now, you should know a Zindu melds to the motion of others, not their own path.” She was quoting the book at him again, he stood taller, “that applies to you here as well.” Zilli opened her mouth to reply, then shut it before flushing with embarrassment. The door clicked open again, and Xander stood up straight and pretended he was in a deep conversation with Zilli about some business. Not difficult, but important. The maid and noble were quiet as they left, but they made their way down the opposite hall. “Come,” Xander said, grabbing Zilli by the wrist and dragging her toward the room the two suspects just left. He tried the door, found it unlocked, and pulled Zilli inside. It was a dim room with two beds along each opposite wall. The furnishings, small desks, cabinets, chests, it looked like a room for high level servants. It wasn’t unlike his own room, just with more open space, and set up for four women instead of two Xin. “To the Black Jungle with you Xander!” Zilli spat in anger as she escaped his grip again, “do you refuse to learn? I have no time for your madness.” Xander turned to her, “Zilli, please. I overheard the two women that walked out of here talking about the Nodru assassin from before you arrived.” Her face went blank, then stern, “The one you stopped?” “Yes,” Xander said. She wrestled with the idea, shifting from foot to foot again, a level of nervous twitching he had never seen in Zilli before. It was unbecoming of a Zindu, for sure. “Well of course they were, it was a big event,” Zilli said. Xander started toward the first desk to his left, “they were talking about satisfaction in her death, that it would keep her silent. They were keeping a secret, I need to find out what that maid is hiding in here. She must keep some sort of record of her movements.” Zilli turned toward the door, then back to Xander, “not if she were intelligent. Either way, this seems like a job better handled by one rather than two.” Xander cleared his throat as Zilli went to move, “When seeking woken words, one may do the work of many. When seeking written wisdom, every eye is the Zindu’s ally.” Now Zilli squeezed her fists at her sides, and closed her eyes in frustration. “as if you could… fine then, let's hurry!” She went to the opposite side of the room, and started at the desks there. The first desk was just full of small notes, written by different hands. At first he thought his mission was already finished, but as Xander looked them over, he realized they were love letters. The maid had different fans from outside the palace, and was occasionally getting correspondence from each of them. He closed it up and moved on to the next one. It was locked, a feature the other desk didn’t have. “Nothing here,” Zilli said as she moved from the first desk to the second on her side. Xander opened his vest and pulled out two pins, before starting on picking the lock. He didn’t know how long they had before someone returned. If they were caught, he didn’t know what excuse he would give to get them out. No matter what, it would raise suspicion from the conspiracy. “N-nothing,” Zilli said, a shiver in her voice as she spoke, “can we go now?” “Check the cabinet here,” Xander said as he continued to pick at the simple lock, “almost done.” She walked over, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Zilli stop in place and squeeze her thighs together before she cracked open the cabinet and looked inside. It was tall enough to fit both of them, fully standing. Then again, it held hanging clothing of a Medika and Fair-folk woman, so that wasn’t too shocking. “Just clothes,” Zilli said in a hushed voice. There was a click from the desk, and Xander popped it open, “got it!” Inside was a small journal, not unlike his own. There were also a few folded up notes on simple paper. Nothing looked suspect, everything looked neat. “Can we go now?” Zilli snapped at him. He reached out to grab the journal, then heard footsteps at the door. Xander and Zilli looked at each other, then he pointed at the cabinet. He closed the desk, and they rushed to the cabinet before closing themselves inside. Zilli stood at his side, and Xander got closer to the crack in the cabinet to look out. “I can’t believe you,” said the noble woman as she walked in ahead of the maid, “all this walk and talk, and you forget it.” “This isn’t just on me, Gottiva,” the maid replied, “i’ll grab it for you and we can go.” Next to him, Zilli was shuffling around. It was just enough that he could hear her pleated skirt swishing against the clothing hanging in the cabinet. He hushed her with a finger, “what are you doing?” He whispered. She was in a panic, and at first he couldn’t concentrate long enough to figure out why. Her hands were clenched tight, her thighs squeezed in, her eyes shut and head shaking. “If you must know, I need a pot,” Zilli whispered back. The thought sank in, and immediately Xander could read the messages he had so foolishly missed. It was so confusing at first, but now he could see it all. Her frustration, her need to be elsewhere, her anger that he would drag her farther from her goal. Now he had her trapped in a closet with possible assassins between her and where she needed to be most. All because he wanted to spy on two women who had yet to show any signs of being dangerous. The maid was out of view now, but he was able to watch the noble, Gottiva, as the maid struggled with something out of view. “What is taking you?” Gottiva snapped. The maid replied, “the lock on here is fast stuck, weird.” Zilli’s breathing was getting louder. He looked over long enough to see her squeeze a hand between her legs. She was struggling, and unable to hide it from him. When she looked over at him, her eyes were watering. She was trembling. When their gaze met she looked away from him. He whispered in her ear, “hold on, they’ll leave soon.” Xander believed that. They were probably here for the journal, and then they would go and he could get Zilli out. Not that he wasn’t enjoying her suffering a little for how she treated him. She wanted to act like she was the only adult, the only one in control of herself. Now she couldn’t even control her bladder. Unfortunately, thoughts of Zilli suffering, crying out in her weakened state, her shame, it only triggered something inside of him. He shook the thought and tried to concentrate on the conversation, but the thoughts were there. He didn’t want to admit it, but they were exciting. Zilli nudged him in the side, and with tear-filled eyes, whispered at him, “stop it.” “There,” the maid said as the drawer thudded open, “got it!” “Finally,” the noble said. He could see the maid again, coming into view with small papers in hand. The journal was still in the desk? “Do you think they’ll be able to pin it on her?” the maid said, “the guard is on alert, after all.” The noble rolled her eyes, “they are already preparing for war, and like the Queen, they are always prepared to blame a Nodru.” Almost done. Xander looked to Zilli and saw that she was doubled over forward, her head short of the cabinet door. Her arms were shaking, her whole body trembling. She couldn’t keep still anymore, her feet moving up and down, her legs wrapped around each other, her hands tucked tight into her crotch. There was no more unlady-like image you could find. It was like an animal, trained to avoid the punishment and shame of leaking indoors. “We’re almost clear,” Xander said, reaching out to touch Zilli on the back, “hold on.” She shook her head no, and whispered, “I can’t, I can’t.” If she released while they were still in the room, they would be caught. It was imperative that she held back her flood. But he didn’t know how to help with that anymore than reporting what was going on just beyond the cabinet doors. “Make it count then,” the maid said, “only so many Nodru wandering the castle, after all.” The noble woman scoffed, “one less, soon enough. Come on, or we’ll be late.” Zilli’s every muscle was in rebellion. Her hips were swaying from side to side, every muscle in her face squeezing and contorting, her breath coming in sharp quiet Swip noises. Her hands dug deeper between her legs, trying to find whatever leverage they could. Her rear was pressed out behind her as she tried so desperately to keep everything inside. It was difficult not to watch it like a dance. It was a celebration of a moment that neither of them could stop. At that point, Xander wasn’t sure if there was any way she was going to make it to a chamberpot before she burst, but all she had was desperation and hope. The two women opened the door, and started out. Xander whispered, “you’re good,” and touched her shoulder to comfort her. Zilli let out a sharp gasp of surprise, and then her whole body went stiff. There was a sound, a short splash of water against the cabinet floor. “Uh…” Zilli shuddered, her lip trembling as a tear went down her cheek, “oh no…” The women at the door stopped, their ears perking at the sound. “What was…” said the noble, “you hear that?” Zilli let out a small squeak of shame, and Xander looked down to see a small rivulet of moisture trailing from beneath her skirt, making the journey down her thigh before dripping to the floor with thuds that felt louder than hammer swings. “Hold on,” Xander whispered frantically, “just hold the rest.” Her hips began to sway again, her hands digging for new traction, her arms squeezing. Her rear was bobbing up and down, and her chest pushed forward. Xander couldn’t hide his excitement now, there was no way. That strange loop between them, his own excitement flowing into her which brought hers back to him, it turned even moments like this into unexpected moments of arousal. The noble woman took a step back inside the room and looked around. Medika hearing wasn’t the worst. Not as good as Zindu, but not the worst. Zilli shivered from head to toe, and another splatter hit the wood floor, followed by louder and more rapid drips. She sniffled, tears pouring down her face. “I think they’re doing work next door,” the maid said, “weren’t you worried about being late?’ Gottiva took a step back, but kept watching the cabinet as she did. A short deluge escaped between Zilli’s fingers, and Xander couldn’t help but turn and watch now. He could see the moment they would happen in her expression. Her frown deepened, her eyes closed tighter, her hips dipped lower, then a cork was released for just a moment before it was stopped up once more. “You’re right,” Gottiva said before heading back to the door. they closed it behind them. “They’re gone,” Xander said, “you can go now.” Zilli’s voice came out in small whimpers, “I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t stop.” She was gasping, crying, her whole body locked up. Xander was conflicted, scared even. He wanted to help her, but he knew she would hate his solution. The flow was now just the occasional drip, she was keeping herself contained now. Somehow she was still afraid of releasing in front of him, or maybe just hoping to maintain some last bit of dignity. Xander took a deep breath, then moved closer to her. She tried to shuffle away, but her feet refused to move, her whole body was twisted over itself. He touched her cheek, and she looked up at him. Her eyes wet, her face a mess. Xander pulled her to a standing position, fought against the last bit of muscle strength she had. “What, stop,” Zilli sobbed, “please.” Xander pulled her forward, approached her for a kiss. Zilli’s eyebrows peaked in confusion. But as he got close, she didn’t fight it, she puckered up. Their lips met, a soft and warm contact, mixed with the moisture of her wet tears. “Go ahead and let go,” Xander whispered as he pulled her arms from between her thighs. She struggled, but had nothing left to fight with. Her arms were pulled to her sides as their lips held together, their breath intermingling. She let out a labored sigh, and he heard the rapid splash of her bladder starting to void on the wood below. He let her go and watched the look of relief that overswept her. Her exposed legs twitched as the river rushed between the gap of her thighs and splashed thundered to the floor. “Ooooh,” she groaned in satisfaction, her eyelids fluttering as she finally found full relief. For a moment he was afraid she would collapse, but she stayed on her feet. Her breath was heaving as she finished, her eyes looking anywhere but into his. Then the stream turned to soft drips, and Xander couldn’t help but smile, “feeling better?” Zilli stood tall again, and for a moment her stance made him take a defensive posture. She looked ready to swing, her face going flush and her eyes going wide. Then she shoved her way out of the cabinet, and into the room. “I can’t believe you!” she hissed, “I absolutely cannot believe you. You monster!” “Zilli!” Xander said as he came out of the cabinet, looking around to make sure the room was as they left it before he became so focused on her performance. She was pacing now, “I was almost there before you pulled me aside for this… this… what was this?” “Zilli!” Xander repeated, going over to the desk he broke into earlier. “What!?” she snapped. “We found them out,” he said as he pulled the drawer out and started to look at the folded notes. “We did?” she said with a few rapid blinks, “I mean, even if we did. This is not acceptable. You… you ruined my uniform! This is against the way of the Zindu. Plus you took advantage of my situation.” He examined how it was folded to make sure he could get it back, then started to open the note, “Technically, you ruined your own uniform. Also, you got some on me, so you ruined mine as well. And I did exactly what was required, by the letter and to the book. Do you wish to argue that?” Zilli looked ready to reply, and then thought better of it. She was the one who had jeopardized the operation, and shamed herself. His little kiss was nothing in comparison, even if it was problematic. “Maybe I do,” she said, but she stopped looking at him as she said it. “Zilli,” Xander said as he scanned the note. She huffed, “what! What do you want now?” He pointed to the mess in the cabinet, “if we’re going to go unnoticed, you’ll need to clean that before you head back to the room.” Her face flushed, but she managed to build up enough anger to look back at him with indignation. “This is all your fault, though.” she said, looking like her tears were going to start fresh. He refolded the note, and then looked her over. Her legs were soaking wet, and her black skirt had a large noticeable wet spot from her groin down. If they weren’t careful, any further time around each other would get bad, fast. Just looking at her he could feel their connection starting to accelerate, his fascination with her increasing by the second. “You’re right,” he said, “I’ll clean. You go clean yourself then I’ll meet you in our room. Then we can discuss what to do next.” Zilli looked down at her skirt, and let out a sigh. She perked up and asked, “wait, what are we doing next?” Xander smiled, “we have to find a Nodru in the castle, so we can stop this conspiracy in its tracks.” The note would hopefully at least get the guards back on his side. But if there was another Nodru to blame another attack on, he couldn’t make anymore ground until they were found.
  16. A new edit of a story from a ways back that I never shared here! The Evil Witch's Special Ingredient Star woke up to a splash of water in her face. She sputtered and tried to look around. Her head was throbbing, the room was foreign. Where was she before this? “That finally woke you up,” said a sultry female voice. “Zannethrane!” Star said as she tried to reach out her arms to attack. The room echoed with the sound of metal as everything came into focus. She was captured, chained up with her wrists in manacles from overhead. She could feel the cold stone wall behind her, her tail flicked at the sensation. Before her was a tall human woman, her nose turned so far up that it was a wonder nothing came rolling out. Her hair was a fading blonde, and her eyes a sharp blue. She wore a black and white dress that left so much of her pale-pink legs exposed it was a wonder she wore it at all. So, you know, definitely evil. “Poor cursed child,” Zannethrane said as she leaned forward and cupped Star’s chin with immaculate fingers, “it really is a shame we have to meet like this. I’ve other… experiments I’ve wanted to try on Tieflings.” Star growled at the woman, and tried to pull her face free. She could feel her body growing warm. Unfortunately, she knew not even a tieflings fury was going to help her break her chains. “I plan to keep you here a while,” the woman said, then she turned her back on Star and came back with a corked bottle. “Hungry?” Star forced a false smile, “no thanks, I’m cutting back.” Zannethrane let a slow smile creep across her face. The woman was always slow like that, as if she had to figure out which emotion to show besides contempt or mischief. “I know we’ve been fighting for some time,” Zannethrane said, her hand sliding down from her hips to the exposed skin of her upper thigh, “but your friends won’t be here for a while. I have a use for you, and it includes you being alive. Your friends expect you to be alive. Starving yourself is just… petty.” Star wanted to headbutt the woman until her face was a bloody mess. It was one of those satisfying fantasies that could help you power through the worst situations. She stayed quiet. It was safer to just glare at the evil witch. “Suit yourself,” Zannethrane said. Then she loosened the chains just enough that Star’s knees touched the ground. Star mentally judged the distance between them, too far. Maybe she could trip her, but that could only get her so far. Especially when she lacked any weapons. She had seen Zannethrane survive worse, like Star’s shortsword through her midsection. Giving her a nasty bruise on the back of her head would be child’s play. “Until we meet again,” Zannethrane said as she walked to the gate enclosing the small room. The door opened, it was unlocked, then Zannethrane walked out. When the woman’s heeled steps were distant enough, Star let out a long breath. It had to be true that Zannethrane needed her, she had seen the gross witch turn a man to ash for looking at her the wrong way. They nearly lost Aelar when she cursed his bow arm into a black husk. Her magic was potent. Star strained the chains over her head. Whatever sort of metal they were, they were enchanted. The young adventurer could only imagine the sort of victims Zannethrane kept down here. Here, where was she? They had already stormed one lair of the witch, and they burned it to the ground. That one didn’t have a dungeon either. Star looked around and saw that the room was just big enough for her. There was a bit of woven hay at her feet so she could kneel without hurting herself, her chains lead over her head then linked to a spot by the door, too far. Then there was the barred dungeon doors you come to expect when you find yourself on the wrong side of authority. No bed, not even a window. She couldn’t see far out of the room, for all she knew she was in the middle of a volcano. Actually, it was too cold for that. Star sat cross-legged, closed her eyes, and tried to think of a way out. Which gave her plenty of time to realize that without her weapons, stripped down to her tunic and skirt, she wasn’t going to have a lot of luck facing a powerful witch infamous for terrorizing the countryside. “Hello?” Said a warbling voice, “Star?” Star opened her eyes and saw a pinkish image of a good friend, Kristoff the Wizard. “Quiet Kris,” she hushed him, “she might hear you.” “What?” The holographic image shouted, “I can’t hear you, you’re barely coming through.” “I said..” She shut up, that was a losing battle, “have you found me? Are you coming?” “We’re trying to find you. After the fight, she left the town a mess. We can’t figure out where Zannethrane went.” Star had to calm herself, they didn’t know where she was. She could be here for months, years. How long was it between their first and second battle with the witch? 2 seasons. “Don’t worry, Star,” Kris said, “We have Brex tracking your scent. We won’t lose you, I promise.” The image got weaker, then it faded away entirely. What could Zannethrane want with her? Her memory was returning, and she remembered being ambushed in a town square while they were just buying supplies. They prepared the cursed staff to use against her, were ready to fight, then Zannethrane was on Star in a blink. Then her memory was blank. She didn’t even know if this was her first time waking up, or talking to Kris. She had to assume it was. If she was going to be here for months, she couldn’t stand up to Zannethrane with simple aggression. It seemed like her old philosophical arguments with Kris were coming back to haunt her. Though considering her own stance, ‘philosophy’ was a stretch. Star looked at the bottle, it was still in the center of the room, just within reach. She grabbed it, uncorked it, and sniffed at it. “Milk?” She whispered. It smelled like plain dairy milk. That would definitely keep her alive. She dipped a pinky into the bottle, and tasted the milk. Tasteless, that slight ‘light’ sensation of cold milk. Maybe she was saving the really cruel torture for later. Star took a deep breath, and felt her stomach gurgle in hunger. She was going to have to do this. Star drank from the bottle, the cool liquid sliding down her throat in large gulps. It wasn’t bad, in fact it was delicious. She stopped and let out a gasp of relief. She looked around the room, worried there would be something wrong with her vision. Her skin was still red, her tail still worked, everything was fine. Over the next hour, she finished the whole bottle. Star put her horns back against the stone wall, and tried to relax. Two hours later, she was faced with a unique problem of being in a dungeon. Despite all attempts to forget about it, pretend it wasn’t happening, or label it as a non-issue, Star’s bladder demanded attention. She had been in a variety of dungeons in her years of adventuring, and now she had to decide if this was going to be the sort of dungeon where you came out smelling like you already died, or if Zannethrane was going to give her a pot. One look around the room made her think it was likely the former. Star squeezed her legs together. It felt like she hadn’t gone in over a day, and she realized that could be true. She slept for who knows how long. There were footsteps in the hall, and Star’s nerves went on edge. She wanted to try to move to her feet, but the shock of Zannethrane’s approaching footsteps sent a bolt through her bladder. She stayed down, but grabbed the bottle. There was only going to be one shot at this. The witch appeared, and a crooked smile spread across her face. She had a wooden bowl in her hands, like something an apothecary or cook would use. Unfortunately, all Star could see was a possible receptacle for her to void. She bit her lip. “I see you took my offer,” Zannethrane said as she opened the gate and walked into the room, “I’m flattered, cursed child.” She put the bowl down by the door, and looked over Star’s body, brown horns, glowing crimson eyes. “I should be more courteous, your name is Star isn’t it?” She said, “I bet that means you named yourself. Though, personally I find the name fitting.” Star was ready to break the bottle, and bring it against the witch. Maybe it wouldn’t put her down for good, but she had to at least try. She just hoped she had the strength to do it. Then, Zannethrane grabbed at the slack chain on her side of the room, and started to pull. Star’s eyes went wide, and she realized too late as her hands were yanked above her head. “No!” She yelled. The bottle hung there, gripped by the neck. “Naughty naughty,” Zannethrane said as she continued to pull Star up without effort. Star’s toes left the ground, and she felt the weight of her body pulling down. Especially one area in particular. Zannethrane walked over and reached up, grabbing the bottle in Star’s hands. The tiefling held on to it with a weak grunt of resistance. The witch looked her in the eyes, an overbearing stare that lacked the coldness that Star assumed she would see, “you don’t seem to realize the situation you’re in.” Zannethrane ran her other hand over Star’s chest, the small bit of exposed cleavage at the top of her tunic. The woman’s cold hands slipped into the space between her breasts, a slow exploration that made Star’s skin crawl. The hand gripped her, then slid down her side, a distant touch outside of her clothing. It travelled to her stomach, then two fingers pressed into her lower belly. The sudden pressure sent bells of alarm through Star’s body, and her thighs clapped together as she squeezed with all of her might. High on her list of personal goals was to not piss herself in front of evil witches. Her hands let go of the bottle, and Zannethrane caught it without effort, putting it down on the ground. Then the witch went back to the door, collected her bowl, and put it down just below Star’s feet. “I came here to help you,” Zannethrane said, “I told myself, drinking that much of my homegrown milk, the poor girl must be in a frenzy by now. I’ll go down there personally, and solve the issue.” Star tried to grin, “thanks, but I’m fine, really.” “Oh?” Zannethrane said with a few rapid blinks of her long lashes, “then I guess you won’t mind if I take my bowl back?” She leaned back down to grab it, and Star felt her eyes zero in on the bowl. It looked like sweet relief. Just looking at it made her body throb. That small pain, centered just above her groin, and growing. It would be so easy to just let it go. Star realized Zannethrane was looking up at her, “unless you would rather it stays.” Star didn’t say a word, instead looking away. She felt a hand on her thigh, and looked over to see Zannethrane’s eyes going over her body. The woman’s cold digits slid up the inside of Star’s leg, fingers splayed over her skin. It made Star’s muscles tense, in fear, anticipation. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Zannethrane said, “it is only natural. I know you have to be full. So just, let loose. I promise to clean up any spillover. I’ll be just like your mother, Star.” “Shut up!” Star shouted, and she kicked out a leg. The witch caught it, and the pulse of panic through her body made Star regret the action immediately. Zannethrane smiled at her, her fingers sliding further up Star’s legs. The fingers vanished under her skirt, moved up against her undergarments. Star’s breathing was getting faster, she didn’t know what to expect next. A finger touched her lower lips, the ones she wanted closed so tight. A thumb slid along her entrance, down one direction, up again, as if curious. Never harsh, teasing. She knew her own body, and all she could imagine was her lips parting for the foreign finger, welcoming it without question after she had neglected her womanhood for so long on the road. “Please,” Star’s voice wavered, “Zannethrane, stop.” Zannethrane let her leg down, but reached between Star’s legs and pulled up her tail. Star caught her breath, her body begging her for relief. She felt like she was fighting a stupid battle. All of this for what, to not do her private business in front of an enemy? She was going to hurt herself at this point. Zannethrane took the fuzzy end of Star’s tail, and rubbed along it with a single finger. Star tried to ignore the sensation, but Zannethrane was looking her square in the eyes. “I’ll tell you the truth,” Zannethrane said, “since it won’t matter. I’m not just helping you with the bowl. You might have guessed that already.” Star tried counting in her head, but that made the seconds seem to drain past. Her thighs clenched reflexively. Every stroke of her tail sent a small wave of pleasure through her body. It wasn’t exactly a reaction she liked to advertise, but here the witch seemed to know her every intimate weakness. “There is a spell, you see. It requires a certain special ingredient. I let the catalyst run through you, and now.” Zannethrane’s hand caressed Star’s lower belly, “well, now you’re going to spill the reagent I need, down your legs, into my bowl, and just in time for my victory.” Star tried to pull her tail free, but Zannethrane held it tight, “why don’t you just buy some on a black market, or whatever you witches do?” Zannethrane thought about it, “freshness, for one. When your goal is absolute domination, sometimes you need to go the extra mile. Plus, I do like to touch you, Star.” There was a distant hissing sound from outside the room, and Zannethrane frowned, there went that look of contempt. “Plus,” She said, letting go of Star’s tail, “you’ll find that the voided contents of a half-lost soul isn’t that common in your local bazaar. Excuse me for a minute.” Zannethrane started to leave the room, then turned at the door, a wide smile on her face as she looked at Star’s clenched legs, “Feel free to water the weeds at any time.” Then she was gone. As soon as she was out of the room, a pink outline appeared in front of Star. Star’s heart jumped, which lead to her squeezing her whole lower body. She felt like a dammed waterfall, the rapids pressing up against the wood. “Star,” Kris’s voice came through the communication spell. “Kris, you seem clearer now.” “We’re right outside,” Kris said, “We’re working our way into the building. We should be there to rescue you in mere minutes. Turns out she is…” “Yeah yeah,” She said with a shake of her head, “Hurry the hell up. She is cooking up some sort of spell, and I need you guys to break me free.” Kris looked at her with an eyebrow raised, “Well if we defeat her, that should stop the spell right?” Star’s bladder pinged with pain, and she grunted with the effort to hold back the tide. “Just hurry, please.” He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, and then Star heard the distant sound of an explosion, and the outline started to fade. “We are on our way, just hold on.” Easier said than done. Star looked down at the bowl between her legs, and felt a pang of pressure. Her breathing was erratic now, and she knew she probably just had enough minutes for them to get to her. This was well beyond the point of telling people you had to go despite the setting, or even the point of running off into the woods even if your friends were left confused. If she wasn’t sure that Zannethrane was going to blow up a chunk of the local barony, she would have let loose already. Instead, as the pressure built up inside her, she squeezed her thighs together, and cursed the bars above her for making it impossible for her to hold herself. Her knees twisted one over the other, and she squeezed her eyes shut. A chill went down her spine and she felt a small jet of warmth. Her eyes opened in a panic. Was she going? No, just a small leak, she was safe for now. All she had to do was hold on. “It seems your friends are here,” Zannethrane said as she walked back into the room with her arms crossed one over the other, “So I do hope you’re finished.” She walked over and looked down at the bowl, a look of maternal disappointment on her face. “Star, Star, Star,” She said as she moved closer, reaching out and touching Star on the cheek, “you’re making this hard for no reason, dear. Think about it, even if your friends were going to defeat me, I can’t cook up my spell while they are running around.” Her fingers edged the skin between Star’s hair and horn, then she laid a small kiss on her chin. “Just let it loose, I promise not to make a big deal about it. Were you mocked as a child? Weak bladder? I know you haven’t resisted nearly as long as I predicted, and I’m thankful for that, really. But we’re working on a stunted timetable now.” Star couldn’t move. Her whole body was strained like one muscle. One drop had already come through, and she knew that she was moments away from letting the whole torrent loose. She could already imagine the sweet release, that moment of satisfaction when it all comes flowing free. She felt another warm drop between her legs and stifled a gasp. “Unless,” Zannethrane said with her mouth agape and a sparkle in her eyes, “You’re already going? Oh how adorable, like a training child. I always forget how absorbent commoner materials are.” Zannethrane reached under Star’s skirt, and she could feel the witch’s cold fingers hook into her undergarment shorts. “No,” Star begged, “Stop, stop.” The witch sidled them down, the material sliding down over Star’s hips. They caught between her feet since one was over the other, but Zannethrane pulled them free. She looked at the crotch, and Star felt a blush come to her cheeks. There was a dark spot about the size of a small silver piece. Zannethrane smiled, then tossed them aside. Her hands went back to Star’s waist, pulling up her skirt and looking at Star’s bare womanhood. “You really are beautiful, do you know that? I’m glad I had to capture you. No offense to your partners in futile rebellion, but you are my favorite.” Zannethrane said. Star felt a brief squirt between her legs, and let out a small squeak in surprise. She felt so weak. She couldn’t figure out why this was happening to her. Any day of the week she would be charging Zannethrane with a blade in hand. Instead the witch was watching as small droplets escaped from her most intimate places. “Look at that,” Zannethrane giggled, “It’s happening.” Zannethrane’s fingers slid along her thighs, forcing her legs apart. The lack of control drove Star insane. A dribble of liquid slid down her leg. “Come on, you can do it little one,” Zannethrane said. Her index finger slid along Star’s lips, teased her, touched her. The fingers came away moist, but Star didn’t know what had made them wetter. “Hold on Star!” Said a distant voice. It was Kris, they were here. She could hear several sets of feet charging toward her. “Not yet,” Zannethrane whispered toward Star’s wavering bladder, “not just yet.” Star couldn’t hold on, she knew she was seconds from bursting. She just wanted relief, but her friends were so close. All she had to do was hold on. She felt another warm jet leave her lips, and a soft cry of shock turned into a moan of relief. It felt so good, even if just for a second. Then the pressure returned. This leak was longer, she couldn’t do it. There was a trickling noise, and her eyes opened wide, her legs squeezing against Zannethrane’s grip, and it immediately stopped. The face of Kris, Brex, Aelar, all appeared at the gate. Zannethrane made a motion of her hand, and an arcane burst of power struck the gate, freezing it over with jagged ice. But she could still see them, clearly, and they could see Star. Zannethrane let Star’s legs fall, and took a step to the side, leaving her a clear view of her friends as she struggled. Another leak, this one flowed down her legs, a hot rivulet that made a path down her leg. Star’s bottom lip trembled, her muscles ached, and she felt the last of her strength waste away. The small stream was joined by another, and a twin on her other leg. The stream grew stronger, and Star couldn’t ignore the quick bursts of relief coming over her. She looked up at her friends and saw their faces, shame, disgust, confusion. Tears came to Star’s eyes. She closed them and a sob shook her body. She let loose, the telltale hissing sound filling the cell as the streams became a heavy flow, a waterfall that fell from between her lips and flowed straight into the bowl between her legs. “Already getting full, you were holding a lot,” Zannethrane whispered, “my poor baby.” Star couldn’t deny the feeling of relief, her head was hanging in shame. A blush came to her cheeks, and her whole body went slack. It felt exquisite. She felt Zannethrane’s hand on her back, comforting her with small rubs as the loud flow turned into a slower trickle, then to soft pattering. As the last drops came out, Star felt a small moan escape her. She was empty. Star realized there was a distant thumping sound. Her head pulled up, and she could see her friends trying to break through the ice. “I would stay and clean you up,” Zannethrane said as she picked up the overflowing bowl of clearish liquid, “but it seems your friends insist on interrupting us.” Zannethrane put a hand on Star’s cheeks, and Star was too weak to resist it. It was warm, for once. After everything she had been through, she had no will to be choosey. “I’ll see you again soon, favorite.” The ice shattered, and the warm hand was gone. “Star!” Came the burly female voice of Brex. The orc ran over and lowered the chains, Star falling into the puddle of her remaining failure. Kris came to her and started to lift her up. “What was that?” Kris said, “what was she doing to you?” Star hung from his shoulder, her legs feeling like loose noodles. “Had to be a spell of some kind,” Aelar said, “the question is what does she intend to do with it?” “For right now,” Kris said, “we need to get Star to safety, then we can figure out where to find her and stop her!” “It doesn’t matter,” Star whispered. “What?” Star let out a weak laugh, “she won’t hurt me. She wouldn’t hurt me.”
  17. Chapter I: The Brown Scourge It had been a whole day, and finally, the moment you were dreading had finally come. You stare at the object, taking it in with an unexplainable, irrational fear. A small wooden box, almost immaculate in design, atop it was a small circular hole and beside it a rack with a roll of white paper dangling down. You looked on, taking in the sight as if it was too distant from you. Putting a hand on your belly, you look down into the white porcelain of the sink and sigh. The toilet. You were looking at the toilet. Though to divert any suspicion you were gazing through the reflection of the mirror over the sink. Why was it when the time came for you to make your first “drop” you were so shy? Right now, you felt fear slithering through your whole body, keeping you planted to the ground. Any thought of moving closer to the toilet gave you a surge of uncertainty that left you returning to admiring it through the mirror. This wasn’t the first time this problem had plagued you. Down south, you had this issue too. Though that had ended worse than you could’ve imagined. Too scared to void your bowels in the privy of the tavern you were staying in, you’d ignored your need and gone about doing your work during the day… until you were struck by a rather impatient snake rearing it’s sloppy head from between your cheeks. It hadn’t ended well, and even now your cheeks are set aflame at the thought of you squatting down in those bushes, straining and uncoiling a brown squidgy log onto the dirt beneath you. There is a pain in your stomach like a swift kick. Your guts tighten up and the pain rushes down south. Something hard and murky starts pushing against your rear, giving you a brief but blunt warning of what would soon happen if you stayed here. Grimacing, you wrap your hand around your stomach. “Uhh… “I ate too much…” You say regretfully, thinking of all that food you had shoveled down in the dining hall. A little bit of everything, some mash, battered puddings, stew, meat, and all washed down with piping mug of tea. As you clench your stomach tighter, feeling your knot quiver under the weight pushing down from your gut, you regret it, every bite of it. “I can’t just stand here.” You say to yourself. “It’s fine.” You take a deep breath and stand up straight. “I’m going to have to do it sometime.” Mustering your courage, you turn around and face the toilet, the object of desire… and fear. “It’s fine. I just need to do it quick and nobody will know.” You take your first step forward, preparing to make a dash into the privy, hands poised at the front of your shorts ready to unbutton them the second the privy door slams closed. You take another confident step forward when the lavatory door creaks open behind you. “Eep!” Like a scared mouse, you turn away from the privy and retreat. You face the mirror again and pretend to fix your hair, brushing aside your bangs and sweeping your green locks. Hopefully they would just ignore you, do their business quickly and leave. Out the corner of the mirror, you spy a smiling face. “Morning, Shibo.” “Gah!” You spin around, caught off guard like you’d been ambushed by a giant spider and nearly trip over. You grab the sink to steady yourself and glance up. It’s Ledley with her long brown hair brushed and swept behind her shoulders. Under her arm she’s carrying a book. “Ledley!” You say, surprised, you clamber to straighten up and push your hands behind your back. “W-What are you doing here?” She looks at you, tilting her head. “This is the privy, right? What do you think I’m here to do?” She pats her belly softly. Out of the corner of the mirror, you watch Ledley as she struts into a privy. As the door creaks closed, you are taunted by her as she undoes her trousers. From in the stall you hear Ledley humming a song, followed by a soft sigh accompanied by a creak of wood. “Uggh…” You whimper, grasping your stomach. If you hadn’t spent all that time oogling the privy and instead just used it, you could’ve avoided this. But now Ledley was here, and as usual your nerves were getting the better of you. Brushing aside your fringe, you look into the mirror sternly. This was something you’d have to get used to, there was no shame in it. What did it matter? Ledley was right beside you doing the same thing without any shame. You clench your fist and look behind at you, at the wooden privy waiting. What do you wish to do? >Use the privy >Hold it until Ledley leaves
  18. I'm glad I was able to find all the documents for this. This is for the first chapter of the Guild Apprentice, an interactive I ran for ended recently. This version is a rewrite of the original interactive with some parts touched up because the early chapters didn't really age well. To the people who read the original interactive I hope you enjoy this, and I hope anybody new will enjoy this. Here is a link to GA: Part 2 which is currently ongoing: https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/51233-the-guild-apprentice-part-2/?page=2 This will be getting updated every few days. Part I You are roused from a peaceful sleep by the sound of squeaking wheels and trotting horses. You awaken in your carriage with your face nestled in a silk cushion. “Uuu…” You sit up, waiting for the mugginess of a rude awakening to fade. “I must’ve nodded off before we’d left town.” You think, rubbing your eyes. It’s not surprising, you’d barely slept a wink last night, the excitement of today, as well as a somewhat lumpy tavern mattress had kept you awake for most of the night. The last thing you remember is hoisting your rucksack aboard the carriage and the loud rumble of the town gate. You must’ve nodded off before you were even out the gate. Inching yourself toward the carriage window, you peer out to get a look at your surroundings. The sun is high, peeking over the tall oak trees along the trail. It must be late morning by now; you’ve slept the entire journey. As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you look around your carriage; it’s a basic oak compartment. Easy on the eyes and even easier on your purse. A small space with two sets of seats dressed up in red cloth, a small cast iron lantern bolted to the ceiling, and a large curtain the runs the length of the whole compartment. Beneath your seat is a small nook to store your belongings, but for the journey you felt comfortable keeping your rucksack by your side. In your weary-eyed state, you had forgotten to close the curtains before nodding off. Sunlight shimmers in through the windows, basking the carriage in a warm welcoming glow. You rub the sleep from your eyes and lean over your seat to take a glance through the carriage window. It’s a beautiful summer day in the Midlands without a cloud in the sky, birds are chirping and a light breeze is blowing through the forest, rustling the leaves. You huff, regretting that you didn’t walk the trail now. It was the perfect day for it. You lean over, reaching for your rucksack when you spy something twinkling in the corner of your eye. Looking down, you see it’s a small ornate hand mirror tucked under the seat. You bend down and pick it up. “Strange, I don’t remember packing this.” You mumble to yourself as you raise the hand mirror to your face. How on earth did it get in your carriage? Perhaps a noble was to use this carriage and had forgotten it? There was no chance of that, no noble would be riding in such a shoddy carriage, even the thought makes you laugh. Regardless, you decide now is a good time to check yourself over. You want to look your best after all. Gazing into the mirror, you quickly check yourself over, sweeping your hair, wiping the drool from your mouth, the usual fare for when you’d faceplant a pillow and fall asleep. Your name is Shibo Kenshiko, an aspiring mage of House Kenshiko, a magi family who hold high rank among the noble families of Orientia. Being a girl of plain appearance, the noble roots of your family did not shine through too well. Nothing in particular stood out about your looks, though you liked to think you were cuter than most girls. The recent weeks in the sun had given your skin a healthy tan, your eyes were curved and as light as the blue sky and you seldom smiled. You had long green coloured hair that would normally reach down to your shoulders, but you were fond of keeping it contained in a long ponytail. Your outfit too lacked any air of nobility, though it did not stand out much among the people of the cities. It was quite fitting with your appearance; a simple white blouse that was far too big for you. Sadly, it was all the tailor had in stock when you needed some garments and you couldn’t afford to be too picky. It stretched down to your knees and was nearly long enough to be a dress. Along with your blouse, you wore a pair of green baggy shorts, and a pair of black tights along with a pair of leather boots that could certainly use a shine. “I look fine.” You comment to yourself, smiling. You run a hand over your green hair and hold the mirror out to get a better look at your figure. Your clothes concealed your curves well, giving you an almost blocky figure. That was for the best. You were modest in your womanly assets; you breasts were fair and the same could be said for your backside; like a firm, well-rounded peach. Your hips had the honor of being your least modest feature; they were slightly wider than average and often it made you feel a tad… pear shaped, but you thought little of it. Finally finished, and giving yourself a soft smile, you sit the mirror down by your side. As you do that, you notice, sticking out of your satchel, a piece of rolled up paper. That was your letter of acceptance to Fort Victoria, the capital fort of Eseriths Fighting Guild. You pull the parchment from your satchel and unroll it. On the parchment is the sigil of the Eserith Fighters Guild; two longswords crossed in front of a silver kite shield. Running across the bottom of the sigil is a banner reading the words “Always Willing. Always Ready. The famous motto. The parchment also bears your name: Shibo Kenshiko and a signature: R. Rodrin, the mentor of the site that had gotten you your Apprenticeship. Holding that letter close to you, you sit back in your seat and close your eyes. You fantasize about your new life with a Guild. “I’m going to be a Guildhand.” You whisper the words, letting them hang on your tongue. Just speaking them makes you grin with joy as you open your eyes and once again admire the letter in your hands. Those words filled you with glee now just as much as they had when you first spoke them. As you are sat there, letting dreams fill your head, you hear the squeaking wheels grow quiet. The horses whinny, their hooves trampling the mud and falling quiet too. The carriage grinds to a halt. That was odd, you weren’t expecting any stops until Guilden, and you certainly weren’t there yet. Quickly folding up the letter and stuffing it in your satchel, you go to see what the commotion is about. On your way past, you decide to take the hand mirror with you, but when you reach down to pick it up… you find it’s gone. “Strange…” You hoist your satchel over your shoulder and leave the carriage. The door of the carriage swings open and you are greeted with the warm sun on your brow and a warm breeze. You can hear the rushing water of a nearby creek. “Aye, calm yourselves!” The carriageman, an old balding man with a thick beard and heavy sleepless eyes, yells to his horses. His voice causes a robin to flee from the branch of a nearby oak. You step up beside one of the horses, comforting the nearest one with a gentle pat on the nose. There is a narrow river running through the forest. It’s not too deep, a few twigs and stones stick out above the waters surface. No, the real concern that is causing the horses such dismay is a tree which has tumbled down, taking the wooden bridge over the river down with it. “Oh, Miss Kenshiko.” The carriageman notices you beside the horse. He takes a wooden pipe from his pocket and sucks on it. “I’m afraid the carriage can’t go any further.” He says with a frown, the pipe hanging from his lips. You share his frown, but only for a moment. Then, you feel a great joy in being able to enjoy this beautiful day on foot. “I don’t mind.” You smile at the carriageman. “It’s too nice a day to be cooped up in a carriage.” You grasp the strap of your satchel with both hands and look ahead. “How much further is it to Guilden?” The carriageman takes a puff from his pipe, lets the smoke hang in his mouth, and exhales. “It should only be a half hour venture on foot, I reckon.” He stands up and points over the collapsed bridge. “Just follow the trail and you’ll come out on the hill overlookin’ the lake.” “Thank you.” You reach into your pocket and throw the carriageman his payment for ferrying you so far. “I wish you a good day, sir.” With your boots to the dirt, you prepare for the final quarter of your travel. You hop across a few stones by the bridge, leap across the river and follow the road deeper into the forest. It’s beautiful, almost tranquil. The sun shines through the trees, critters scamper around your feet, chirping and chattering before vanishing into the bushes. A soft summer wind blows over you, rustling your hair. You feel relaxed as you walk briskly through the tranquil stretch of forest. Roughly five minutes later, as you are walking along, surrounding yourself with the sights and sounds of the Riverren forest, you suddenly hear footsteps running toward you; stressful boots thumping against the dirt, closing in on you. “Hey! Wait up!” A voice calls out from behind, urging for your attention. It’s a young girl travelling alone who beckons for your attention. She looks far too innocent to be a thief or a brigand. She is quite short, almost half a head shorter than you, her eyes gaze widely like a child and her auburn hair looks like it was cut by a drunk with a blunt knife; it was short and only got longer and messier the nearer it got to her ears. But it’s her “unique” attire that catches your eyes. She’s wearing a long mage robe with the sleeves cut off near her elbows, and a messy white shirt that looked more like an artists canopy, splattered and stained with all matters of colours and patterns. A belt full of vials, all filled with unknown concoctions of various colours, as well as a leather bandolier of potions are wrapped over her robes, and the most eye-catching of her apparel - a large wooden barrel, almost twice her size is hoisted on her back like a satchel, held in place with two leather straps that she’s grasping. The barrel hisses and a burst of steam erupts from the top. You hear it gurgling like a hungry beast from within. The young girl, despite hoisting that gargantuan barrel, does not struggle to catch up with you. She stops when she gets by your side and catches her breath. Up close, you see just how short she truly is - her eyes just meet your breasts. That’s somewhat of an impressive feat, since you were not too tall yourself. The girl huffs and puffs, her red cheeks inflate and deflate, her chest heaves and she pants, desperate to swallow all the air she can. Finally, she manages to blurt out some words. “Y-y-you… you’re h-heading for Guilden… right?” She struggles to speak between bouts of heavy panting. Her ragged breathing and flat heaving chest make you think lewdly. You blush, and avert your gaze. “Aha! You are! I knew you were!” She gives you a toothy grin. “I see that letter in your backpack.” You didn’t feel the need to give a response now the girl knew. Instead, you nod. “Maybe you should put the barrel down for a moment?” You say. “Ha!” The girl grins, her teeth showing through her smile. “Good idea!” She lets go of the straps and the barrel collapses behind her, kicking up dry dirt. “Ahhh…” She bends down, leaps up and stands up straight, stretching out her arms as high as she can. “That’s better!” She throws a hand out in your direction. “My name is Muaki!” She introduces herself, offering you her hand, which you accept reluctantly. “You say the first part like a cow!” She demonstrates with a moo, completely forgetting she had just pronounced her name while introducing herself. “So it’s Mooo-aki!” She grins. “I’m an alchemist from Waverton! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Though reluctant, you still feel obliged to introduce yourself, though Muaki’s ecstatic nature makes you feel especially shy. Probably all that cheeriness. You were never that outgoing, especially around energetic people. “My name is Shibo.” You start with a nervous quiver. “Shibo Kenshiko.” “Kenshiko?” Muaki tilts her head like a confused puppy at the sound of your name. After a moment to herself, she snaps her fingers her eyes begin to glimmer. “Ah! You’re from Orientia!” She goes quiet again, muttering under her breath and giggling. “Sorry, I was just running your name through my head! It’s really fun to say! Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. Shibo Kenshiko. You should give it a try!” “There’s no need for that.” You say playfully. “I hear it enough almost everyday.” “I bet you do!” Muaki does not catch on to the subtle snarkiness in your voice. “Shibo Kenshiko. Shbo. Kenshiko. It’s so fun to say!” She tenses up, scrunches her face, and clenches her fists with overwhelming glee that leaves her feeling giddy. After repeating your name a few more times, she finally gets bored of saying it. “Sorry, I’m just really excited about getting to Guilden. Do you mind if we walk together?” “I… sure.” You say, resisting the urge to sigh. So much for enjoying the forest peacefully. But you’d feel guilty turning her down, and it was only a short walk to Guilden. “Ha! Great! I love walking with company!” She bends down and hoists the barrel back onto her back. It gurgles. “Let’s get going!” She points onward and starts walking, hunched over with the weight of the barrel on her back. You look at down, frowning at the sight of your scuffed boots. “I have to pee…” You mumble, hoping Muaki doesn’t hear you. That’s all that is on your mind. It had been lingering for a while but only now was it creeping up on you. Maybe it was the heat. You’d hoped to hold it in until you reached Guilden, or if the need got too demanding, you were not averse to wetting a patch of dry dirt behind a tree. But that option went out the window thanks to your newfound traveling companion. The stretch of forest seemed never ending and the tea you had downed before falling asleep was getting well acquainted with your bladder… perhaps a bit too well acquainted. “A half hour walk my fanny…” “Shibo! Is something the matter?” Muaki looks back, noticing her walking buddy is now absent.. Pushing back the urges in your bladder, you look to Muaki and shake your head. “It’s nothing.” You would not be resorting to a childish potty dance just yet. For now, you just had to endure it. You rush on to catch up with Muaki and together with your new friend walk along the trail.
  19. I was bored and don’t have much to do for the next few days so I decided to give myself some writing practice and try my hand at a interactive story. I decided to play it up with a bit of a twist and run things like a pen and paper rpg game. Well I’ll be running through a first quest of a low level adventurer. This character will be female, partial because that’s what this site will probably vote for anyway and also because i’m writing it and I can’t write a male main character for a lewd story like this. Aside from gender, I’ll be leaving the rest up to a character creation process. Here’s how it’ll work. I’ll list a handful of classes, races, and stats. Everyone who comments will make a post with two thing. First is their preferred Class, race, stat distribution, and a name. The second will contain, if possible, a vote for another persons comment. You can also forgo your suggestion to vote for the same comment twice. Ill tally the votes and determine what character you create. Unless one comment gets a ton of support, I’ll be using the most popular class and race, either the most popular name or make one that fits the character if there’s no consistency, and give her a stat distribution based on the recommendations. Of course if one comment gets a lot of votes, I’ll just take that wholesale. You can also include a backstory for the character you’re suggesting or include physical characteristics. That will either be determined by the vote or just whatever I like best, so be creative. If no one gives any ideas then I’ll just make something up based on stats. So, your comment should contain your vote for Race Human: the most common race, no major changes from what would be expected. Zefran: Descendants of a ancient magical race. Beautiful beyond compare with a radiant appearance about them. Hair and eyes all colors of the rainbow. They try to maintain dignity in all things, though their physically frail bodies tend to put those of them that set off to adventure into trouble. (-1 to continence rolls,+1 to all magic attacks) Beastkin: The Beastkin are a loosely associated group of tribes with animal traits. Those raised among their own kind tend to be more blunt, and are rarely shy or embarrassed by the needs of their bodies. Those raised near or around humans however tend to be self conscious and try to buck stereotypes about how brutish their kind can be, making a constant effort to resist their instincts to do things like marking territory or relieving their self outside. The most common types of Beastkin are Wolfkin and Tigerkin. A beastkin will generally have a mostly human appearance with the exception of dog or cat like ears and a tail, as well as some fur on their lower body.(increased desperation around trees and higher willingness to pee in front of others, +1 to physical damage) class: Wizard: Intelligence based spellcaster. Typically frail and bookish. Knowing a lot of the world but having little first person experience. Fighter: Strength or dexterity based warrior with a good deal experience fighting. Rogue: Stealthy Dexterity based thieves. Not strong in a fight but very reliable over all. Some access to magic at higher levels. Cleric: Very religious wisdom based caster. Those who venture into the world are often on a mission of some importance given to them by the church. Sorcerer: Natural born charisma based casters. Usually driven by their own self interest. Stats: you have a 8, 10,12, 13, 14, and 15 to put into the following stats. Strength: mostly combat oriented, though sometimes used for other rolls. Dexterity: determines how likely you are to get hit as well as how good you are with your hands. Some tricky maneuvers might require a Dex roll. Constitution: Determines hit points as well as ability to quarantined poisons and overcome physical conditions. Constitution rolls will be used to determine how long a character can hold their bladder as well as how likely they are to wet themself. Intelligence: how smart you are. This governs your ability to come up with creative solutions as well as a wizard’s spellcasting Wisdom: how likely you are to see through deception, your ability to perceive traps, and social situations. as well as a clerics spellcasting Charisma: The stat used for most social interactions. A character with high charisma has higher self esteem and would be more likely to do something needed but embarrassing. Also used for a sorcerer’s spellcasting. Name: (If possible) A vote for someone else’s post. The length of this story will be until either the character dies, interest dies, or I reach a good end point. Also just so you know the stat I suspect (and almost hope) will be everyone’s dump stat also governs max health so just be aware of that. heres hoping everyone enjoys it. I’ll be updating it when I feel like I’ve gotten enough engagement to determine the next course of action or whenever I have time. Let the dice roll.
  20. Foreword: So... Yeah. This basically started as a dumb joke that like four people saw and somehow turned into a full story. It's definitely something, I hope at least some people will enjoy the peculiar style I've written in this time. Since it's a small-ish story I didn't get anyone to do a read-through on this one - I hope that the quality doesn't suffer too badly as a result. Note that the story is standalone and probably won't have any sequels or prequels. Probably. Enjoy! The City of Plex Our protagonist, magical trickster Elln, has found herself in quite the pickle! Accepting to deliver a package for the Scrambled Wizard had seemed like easy money, yet had proved to be not so. In her eagerness for a big payment she had foolishly uttered the word “yes”, which was all the wizard needed to work their enchantment into Elln’s unprotected mind. She should have been more suspicious of the wizard – between her and the delivery point lay the implacable southern wastes and certain death for an unaware traveler. No matter, she had crossed the Irgut Sea by disguising herself as a high priest of the marine god Glamuzt and stealing one of their incredible scrolls. She had made her way past the Monodands of the haunted Helmut Moor, and the great Tundra of Yarwhel where nothing lives. Elln the Eclectic would by no means be held from her destination and freedom. Still, traversing the jungle had proved an impossible task, the great chatter of the region’s two-faced monkeys greatly confused Elln, and she always seemed to end up where she started at jungle’s edge when the sun set. Elln would hardly give up, but she could recognize a futile effort when she saw one – and promptly decided to search the area for someone who might explain the peculiarities she had run into and how to avert them. Sustenance was for the first time in a long while, not a problem – the edge of the jungle had trees bearing juicy and flavorsome fruits which Elln ate with no reservation since her innate magic would warn of poison. Eventually she came upon an unexpected sight – domed stone houses and paved roads, and a great observatory. Certainly, Elln had not expected to run into civilization so far to the south – the roads led nowhere, and the village seemed to lack a harbor, yet it did not suffer the signs of abandonment and ruin. Boldly, Elln knocked on the wooden door of the building closest to her. Gently the door opened, revealing a woman perhaps three to five years older than Elln. “I inquire for the means to travel the jungle, and a place to stay the night. In addition, I would make use of your facilities after a long day of travel.” “A visitor in Plex, indeed! It is best you quickly learn our ways to avoid a costly mistake.” “I concur – but then may I borrow your bathroom first, so I can hear your explanation in full and without any discomfort?” “Such is not the way of Plex!” “Then where can I relieve myself? I am not without urgency, you see.” “All in due time. The center house holds many facilities one can use at a fee.” “A fee! Surely the people of Plex have other options or else face financial ruin.” “By no means. The lord sorcerer owns these lands, and while fruit is plentiful and consumed without penalty, thusly taxes are collected. I would advise against relieving yourself elsewhere – such acts often prove costly for the offender.” Elln had noticed a restlessness about the woman, and now she knew why. After days in the jungle, she carried only a small sum of money – presumably not enough to pay the fee. Elln would have to hatch a scheme, and as she squeezed her legs together, realized she would have to be quick about it, too. The center house was easily recognizable since it was larger than the other houses and was seeing considerable traffic. If this truly was the village’s only bathroom this might be explained, yet the folk of Plex must be truly daft and backwards if they would willingly follow such draconian laws. Surely, Elln could take advantage of this backwater foolishness – convincing the right people to let her use the toilet should be a trivial affair. Before entering the facility, Elln took a quick detour into a secluded alleyway. Making sure she was unobserved, she activated her magic cloak with a shake. Once for a pauper and then again and she became dressed as a lady of birthright; a billowing yellow dress with plenty of lace. When entering the center building she took great care as to appear regal, adjusting her posture and expression. Within, she came face to face with a pale woman behind a large wooden desk. “We offer two such services; firstly, ordinary service for 3 pieces” The desk-lady points at the queue of women. “secondly, for a mere 17 pieces we offer extravagant service.” Such devilry! The ladies of Plex would undoubtedly keep their toilet visits to a minimum, so that when they did in fact enter the manifold sounds of relief would no doubt prompt a hasty decision. Despite the significantly lower price for the “ordinary” facilities, many must have been forced to pay the great premium of “extravagant” just to skip the queue, Elln mused. She was only in the possession of a single piece, which she had hoped would pay for a simple meal and lodgings. “Of course, as I am a woman of great import, I shall be using the extravagant service.” “Excellent! Please place your deposit into this tube. It will serve as your key to open the extravagant facility, so be mindful of it.” “I see! However, a lady of my stature would not carry cash, and my escort lags behind.” “That is not a problem. I promise to ensure one extravagant facility remains available to you until their arrival.” “Surely you can accommodate me better than that! I have traveled far and who knows when my escort will arrive? Why, I could take one of your tubes and fill it up later!” Elln ensured some signals of her need reached the desk-lady, a slight hunch forward and a few fidgets interspersed throughout the conversation. “By no means! Unless the tube has been filled with coin, it won’t open the door. I am certain your aide will arrive in good time and should they not, all know that women of higher status are in possession of strong mental and physical fortitude to withstand and endure as a true lady does.” Elln did not appreciate the desk-lady toying with her in this manner, yet just before she started to protest a girl from the “ordinary” queue left it to rush towards the desk. “Please allow me to use the “extravagant” facilities and quickly now, I have the coin.” The girl was distressed in both the tone of her voice, as well as her frenzied movements. The source of her misfortune could have been discerned by a man blind or deaf, though probably not both at once. “Unfortunately, I have promised the currently unoccupied “extravagant” facility to the highborn lady right here, who currently waits for her aide.” This desk-lady seemed a deviant to Elln, who took such a delight in the misfortune of women in need of a bathroom. The distressed girl turned to Elln pleadingly. Under her dress, she seemed to be doing everything a woman can to keep herself contained and though her dress hid her legs, the sound of her shoes against the stone floor expressed a feverish though doomed dance. Elln was not heartless. “You may let this girl ahead of me. Clearly she is of lesser stock and will not last, unlike myself. I shall be off to fetch my servant, who must be loitering or lost.” The girl gave Elln a look of intense gratitude. She snatched the tube after the desk-lady filled it with her coin and haphazardly started to walk towards the “extravagant” facilities. Elln was shocked to witness the girl start the process of hoisting her dress before she even entered the bathroom – and in such a public place no less! Elln quickly left the building, as even the “ordinary” queue offered no guarantees and her situation was, in all honesty, getting quite dire. Turning right out of the center house, she made for the nearest alleyway. Out of sight, she once again shook her cloak and uttered the magic word to return her dress to travelling attire – a pair of sturdy trousers and a tunic were far more suited than a dress to her task at hand. Once safely in the alleyway Elln wasted no time in checking her surrounding and did not spend a second admiring the slight bulge of her belly pressing against her belt. Instead she simply removed her trousers and undergarments, tossed them aside unto the cobble, and positioned herself against a wall. Elln had no skirt or dress to hide herself under as a well-bred lady might, and no cover of darkness that might obscure a woman of lower repute. She herself was bared, as was her deed, to any who might pass or even peek into the alleyway. Indeed, such a thing could be called careless or even callous. Most definitely was it shameless – even a sailor wife and barmaid would blush at such a display. Elln urinated fiercely and noisily upon the stones, even allowing herself to twice pass gas onto the street – her relief was total and she would be denied nothing. What she hadn’t noticed, and would come to notice far too late, was the gathering of sorcerous mist upon the streets and all around her. Elln had good reflex and a quick mind, certainly, yet at her own vulnerable moment of bliss she had dropped her defenses – she could not notice the encroaching danger…
  21. Guest

    The Silver Key

    Hello! This is my first crack at an interactive story! I decided after reading so many amazing interactive stories that I wanted to try one out myself. Sorry for the utter lack of omo in this first chapter, but I promise there will be more in later entries! Fair warning though, story and characters will most likely take more priority over omo most of the time. Not all entries will be this long, and some will be even longer. I'm just going to go with the flow with this one and write as I go along. I sincerely hope you all enjoy!! ? Chapter 1 All was quiet at the Ainsworth Estate. Victor, the man of the house, was finally going to sleep after a long evening in his study. Maria, his wife, had been sleeping soundly for a few hours now. She stirred from her rest and sleepily smiled at her husband as he settled into bed beside her. The two fell into a peaceful slumber only minutes later. With all the servants resting in their quarters as well, only one resident of the house was left awake. Arabella Ainsworth sat straight up, having heard her parents' bedroom door shut. "Finally." She muttered. The young girl hopped down from her large and plush bed, already pulling her nightgown over her head. She had to be quick and quiet, lest someone in the house woke up or came to check on her before she could leave. She rushed over to her mahogany wardrobe, swinging the doors open and pushing aside a few dresses. Hidden in back corner of the wardrobe was a well-worn leather bag, a set of clothes, and finally, a silver rapier, stolen from her father's armory. The girl still couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it was missing. Arabella hurriedly put on her clothes, a simple white blouse with brown pants and a belt, before slipping on her knee-high boots. To complete her outfit, she fished her long, dark green overcoat out of her wardrobe as well. She put it on and pulled her curly, brown hair out of the collar. After clipping the sheathed rapier to her waist, Arabella slung her bag over her shoulders and took a deep breath. She was ready. It was time to go. "Oh, wait." She whispered to herself. The girl shrugged off her backpack and rummaged through it, pulling out a large envelope. "To Mother and Father," it read. She placed it on the pillow of her bed. Once she'd taken one last look at her room, Arabella ventured out into the halls of her soon to be former home. She sneaked down the spiral staircase she used to run up and down as a child, past the kitchen where her mother used to make breakfast every morning, and finally, to the front door. Arabella glanced behind her once more, knowing that she still had the chance to go back. She could simply go back upstairs and climb into bed. No one would be any the wiser in the morning. "No." She thought, clenching her fists. "I can't stay here." Taking another deep breath, Arabella opened the front door, and took the first step of her journey. ................................................................................................................................................................................... It took a while to get off of her family's property, but eventually, Arabella felt that it was safe to rest. She sat down on the forest floor, looking up to the star filled sky above. The moon was high in the sky, casting a silvery light on the land below. The moonlight combined with the sight and sound of the trees rustling in the wind gave the forest an ethereal atmosphere. A perfect beginning to a grand adventure, in Arabella's opinion. She smiled to herself, butterflies running rampant in her stomach. Finally, after so many years of longing, she was free. Free to explore the world. Free to become whoever she wanted to be. But first, she had to get as far away from home as possible. Arabella stood up and stretched a bit. As she did, she felt a tiny pang from her lower abdomen. Shoot, she knew she'd forgotten to do something before she left! The girl shifted in place a bit, gauging her need. It wasn't too bad, and Arabella had confidence she'd be able to make it to the nearby town and find a proper privy before she was forced to do anything...indecent. She pulled out her map and compass, checked to make sure she was still going the right way, and continued down the path. Not too much later, Arabella was making her way through the forest when something caught her attention. The sound of a twig snapping. She whipped around, hand already resting on her rapier's handle, but saw nothing. She listened for a few seconds more, straining her ears, and heard some leaves rustling in the same direction. What did Arabella do? A) It's probably just an animal. Let your guard down and continue walking B) It's probably nothing...but just in case... Continue walking, but keep your guard up C) Hey, who's there?! Stand your ground and unsheathe your rapier D) I'll strike first! Try and pinpoint the source of the noise, and attack E) Oh, fuck this. Attempt to run away
  22. This is a reboot of my old story, still follows Liz as she adventures around as a paladin but I wanted to kind of start over with her finding a different friend. Edit: Also, featuring Ayla, a character by Clom The sound of a river flowing is quite possibly one of the most serene effects nature can provide you. A steady sound that is passive and quiet, yet inexorable. The flow of a river cannot be stopped except by the most drastic of measures. But even then, the river will simply find a new path which it can flow, and as such, that peaceful sound will never truly die. I kneel down in the grass and scoop some water into my hands and take a drink. I’ve been traveling the road for three days now and I feel exhausted. Part of me wants nothing more than to go back to an abbey bed and rest. Sleeping on the ground for this long… it takes a lot out of you. I take my final drink and then splash some of the cold water across my face. “Don’t dwell on what has already happened”, Father Matthew would tell me, “Instead, look to ensure that it will not happen again.” There is wisdom in his words, of course, but it’s never that simple. I could run back now, probably inquire around New Leaf town and track Nymeria down, pledge my love to her and we’d live happily ever after. Yet I cannot bring myself to move. No… instead I sling my shield over my shoulder and follow the river north. It is then that I hear the sounds of battle. Somewhat of a welcome change to all this dreary traveling. I rush forward, following the sounds. There, by the rivers edge, not more than a hundred meters away, I see a man and a woman fighting off a pack of goblins. The woman is cloaked– she seems to be taking care to hide her appearance as that hood of hers is much too great. The man, however, though he bears no armor or crest, has a rather magnificent greatsword. The way in which he cleaves through the goblins is both savage and graceful. He is a knight. From his stance alone, I can gather that much. There is too much discipline– too much purpose and dignity in his movements. “Ho there, goblin menace! Fret not, for I shall bring your meager existences to their end in good time! Justice does not discriminate in its selection!” Then I see it. A small staff of iron in the woman’s hands. She casts a small bolt of fire at leaping goblin, preventing it from latching onto the knight. But still, the numbers they face are quite extreme. As a paladin, it is my duty to aid such travelers. I draw my weapons and charge in. “Well met, my ally!” The man says as he cleaves another goblin. “The situation is well in hand but another fighter would bring a swift end to this conflict!” “I couldn’t agree more!” I yell. Goblins are hardly warriors. It would take at least ten to be match for the lowilest squire of Arcadian soldiers. Yet it was becoming well known that the Mountain Kingdom of Ralion was having increasing troubles with controlling the goblin population. The further north you traveled, the greater the risk of a goblin raid. Still, between two trained knights and a mage of unknown power, even this group of… what was it? Twenty goblins? Thirty? They were no match for us. I’d give details of the battle but it was so simple and quick that it would be a dull and repetitive account. “That was a strangely large party.” the man sighs. “I’ve never seen them attack in groups of more than five at a time.” “Have the elves of Ralion truly been unable to get a handle on them?” “It would seem they cannot.” the man sheathes his large blade and extends his hand to me. “I am Malcolm. A mercenary and adventurer in these parts! I would offer you reward but I’m afraid I have no funds until my assignment is over.” “Are you both unharmed?” I ask. The woman nods silently at me. “Ah, yes, meet my quarry, Ser- um… Serene.” Malcolm says. “As you have seen, she has some skill in the arcane arts and seeks to make her way to the elven city in the mountains. “Perhaps I could accompany you. I am a Paladin of Arcadia and it is my duty to help our citizens.” “Ah, I thought I recognized your crest!” Malcolm says excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to meet a paladin! Your order is most gracious and prestigious!” he turns to Serene. “Well, I for one would welcome your help but the decision remains in the hands of my employer!” “I cannot offer payment nor reward at this time.” Serene says. “But if you wish to assist us, I will not turn you away.” “Very well.” I couldn’t quite place it, but there was something familiar about Serene. Barring the fact that she had the most beautiful face hidden beneath that hood, I couldn’t help but feel I had seen her somewhere before. “Will you bestow upon us your own name, fair paladin?” Malcolm asks. “Liz-“ I pause. A brief surge of pain goes through my heart. “Elizabeth Gallagher.” “A most beautiful name!” he declares, then points towards the mountains. “Now then, let us continue to the land of Ralion!” I couldn’t help but grin at Malcolm’s character. Ever the optimist, and the way his long, golden bangs flowed in the wind, and the way he carried himself- shoulders raised, and a confident grin on his face. He was like a hero from a song of legend. He reminded me a lot of someone I knew in the order of Paladins. Eastern Arcadia was a lot different from the west. Where on the west you have many green, rolling hills and plenty of trees, the east was more golden grasslands and farms. Largely flat but that made it much easier to patrol for the knights. You can get much better lines of sight on the land. If there was trouble to be found, you would find it easily. And that’s when we saw it. Over near the castle, a great deal of smoke began to rise from the Darkwood. One of Arcadia’s most important sources of wood was giving off frightening levels of smoke, one might think there was a dragon attack. “Please don’t tell me that’s where Robin and his troop headed.” Serena sighed. “Very well!” Malcolm said with unnecessary enthusiasm, “I shall not tell you, my liege!” “Robin?” I asked. “Aha!” Malcolm said, “A compatriot of ours who led an expedition against a supposed necromancer that was hiding in that forest. I guess… things went awry.” “Knowing that group, they probably set fire to it on purpose.” Serene commented. “Ahahah… I suppose it’s possible…” “Who is he?” I ask. “A pretty big guy with a pretty big axe!” Malcolm grinned, “Helped us out a few days ago!” “Malcolm.” Serene gave the mercenary an odd stare, but the blonde-haired man helplessly shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t lie about it.” “You don’t need to volunteer unnecessary information either.” She looked at me. “We encountered him a bit earlier, he pulled us out of a tight spot, along with a few other adventurers.” “We were attacked by a servant of Mephistopheles.” Malcolm added. “Malcolm!” “Forgive me, my liege,” Malclom pulled his bangs away from his eyes, “but even as an initiate, I believe she has a right to know the truth. She may even be able to help us.” I swallow and press my legs together. Once again, I have to pee, but such urges will have to wait. Mephistopheles was the Lord of Hell who had supposedly tried to wipe out humanity ages ago. As a paladin, it was my sworn duty to combat him and his followers. “Suffice it to say,” Malcolm explained, “We are not who we say we are. Serene is a high ranking official from Tripoli who has been targeted by a powerful warrior serving Mephistopheles. It was my job to move her to a safe location with secrecy being our defense.” “Then what I suspected was true,” I say, “you are an Arcadian Paladin.” Malcolm nodded. “This assassin is not to be trifled with, Elizabeth. He wields tremendous power and cannot be killed. I saw him return to life after being slain in a most brutal fashion.” “What does he want?” I ask. “Serene’s life.” Malcolm answers. “Beyond that, we are unsure.” “Not entirely true.” Serene added, “He tried to take the King’s life as well.” “The King!?” I gasp. I didn’t realize things were so dire. I almost felt bad leaving the capital. Had I stayed behind, perhaps I could have helped defend against attack. Paladins are a cut above the typical soldiers and knights, you see. Blessed by God, we are literally given the power to smite evil with holy light. This is not some religious allegory or obscure analogy. We can generate a brilliant light from our weapons and bring it upon unholy foes just in case “dead” isn’t dead enough. So for a single warrior to fend off a paladin… I am given pause. “Yes… you were fortunate to evade my sword… but not this time.” A strange and deep voice seems to echo through the fields. Serene and Malcolm immediately ready their weapons, a look of terror on their faces. Then I see it. Atop a nearby hill… a man. White hair… clad in black leather armor… holding a large, crimson sword in one hand. “I suspected you would flee to Ralion in order to warn the elven king… but I did not expect you to bring such a small entourage.” His face is unwavering. The man knows he is in a position of power, but he emits no satisfaction or enmity. His gaze is cold and uncaring. We are merely a job to him. “Who are you!?” I ask, drawing my sword and shield. “I am Camus, servant of Mephistohples.” He does not look at me. “And with the blood of each royal family, I shall complete the ritual to bring the Prince into this world.” “Have you gone completely mad!?” Malcolm shouts. “He’ll enslave every free race in the world!” “Yes, he will bring order to this chaotic world once again, but that is not my concern.” Camus replies. “My job is only to gather the blood.” He leaps off of the hill and lands before us. His red eyes pierce even my armor, as if my power means nothing in the face of his. And for a brief moment… I understand. I’m going to die. It terrifies me… but I accept it. To protect my home… to protect my family… I would gladly give up my life. That is the hallmark of a paladin. I charge. I know it will likely mean my death, but I press my attack. I keep my shield close to my chest to protect against counterattack… but it means nothing to this man. He plunges his sword into the ground, sending violet pulses of energy towards Malcolm and I. We are knocked off our feet almost instantly. Camus walks towards the robed woman. “Now… Princess Serena… you will die.” I regain my bearings, get up and attack again. That woman was the princess of Arcadia? Then there was no time for weakness. I had to stop this man. But he effortlessly deflects my attacks. Each strike of my blade is parried… and when he chooses to go onto the offensive, I am desperately trying to block his attacks with my shield. My body is moving almost entirely on instinct, my shield arm moving to stop his relentless slashes. That’s when Malcolm gets up and strikes with his greatsword. The pressure is taken off of me, and my bladder reminds me that it needs relief. Could have picked a better time. But I can’t let them die. I channel all my power into my sword and lash out against Camus. And there it is. He tries to deflect my thrust but it slips through his guard and pierces his left side, followed by a brilliant flash of light. He grunts as he leaps back, clutching his wound. But I don’t give him room to breathe. I attack again. And again. His blocks are a little more shaky now that he’s wounded. “A lucky hit… you won’t get lucky again!” He growls. “Malcolm!” I say “Take the princess and run!” “But-“ “I’ll hold him here! Get away!” They both seem to understand. They run towards the mountains, leaving Camus and I to face each other. “Surely you know that you cannot match my power. Do you truly believe you can defeat me?” “Either way, I’m not gonna stop until I’m dead!” “How very noble of you,” Camus says without emotion, “Then I shall endeavor to end our match swiftly.” I’m not sure what happened. I gave it my all. I used divine protection spells and smites of all kinds to try to fend him off but I could sense Camus was holding back. His attacks were bizarre. If not unorthodox attacks, he would add in strange magical attacks to keep me at range. Only a few minutes passed but it felt like hours. I was losing. With each blow I took, my life felt that much closer to its end. But I ignored it. There were people I needed to protect. I ignored the pain in my body. I ignored the protests of my bladder. All that mattered was stopping this man from killing our princess. Finally, I’m sent flying by another strange magical attack. I crash land hard onto my back. I’ve lost my sword and my shield, so I pull out a knife I keep hidden in my boot. But I look to the north first. At last, Malcolm and Serena have disappeared over the horizon, and I know I’ve accomplished my mission. A sense of relief goes about me, and I suddenly become aware of the pain in my body. Camus stands over me with his weapon poised to strike, and I prepare myself for the blow. I hear the sound of a metal object cutting through the air. Camus jumps back… and the world begins to grow dark — When I awaken, the first thing I realize is how bad I have to pee. My entire lower area aches with the feeling of needing to take a leak. But as I open my eyes, I’m greeted by sight of a young girl with fiery hair playing her violin next to a campfire. It’s night now. My body still hurts, but the edge has been taken off. The girl noticed me as I sit up. Her music ceases as she looks at me. “Oh… hi.” she says. “Hello.” “How are you feeling?” “Better.” I say. “What happened?” “That man attacked you. You lost consciousness from your wounds. You were bleeding pretty badly around your left leg.” I look down. I’m not wearing my trousers anymore. Only my panties below the waist, but there is a bandage there. “I used a bit of magic to heal what I could,” the girl says, “but I am not well versed in the healing arts. "The names Addilyn Tsereteli, but most just call me Ayla." The girl gives a bow like a bard on his closing performance, slow and elegant. “I am Elizabeth. I am a paladin of Arcadia.” I rise to my feet, searching for my pants. “So what happened to the white-haired man?” “He fled. Seems that deflecting my arcane arrows was more trouble than it was worth for him.” “You should have pursued.” I say with a hint of anger. “He was trying to kill someone. Now he may succeed.” Ayla looks at the ground silently. “I… I’m sorry. You couldn’t have known that. I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me so far.” She gives a single nod. Then she points behind me. “Your pants are over there if you want to put them on. Sorry I had to take them off to get to your wound.” “Ah, it’s no trouble. I understand.” As I stand up, however, my bladder sends another unfriendly reminder. I stop in my tracks, pondering what I should do. It’s gotten pretty bad now, and I really don’t want to keep holding it. I even consider just pulling my smallclothes to the side and letting it out where I stand. But I could never do that in front of someone else. I withdraw the idea as quickly as I conjured it. Was there any cover nearby? I look around, but we’re still out in the fields. There were a few patches of grass I could maybe squat down into, but Ayla would definitely figure out what it was I’d be doing. So to the dismay of bladder, I choose to continue holding it. I walk over and put my trousers back on, hoping to God that they don’t have to endure my urine again. “So who was that guy?” “Someone too powerful even for me.” I say with humility. “It will likely be someone else who has to slay him.” “Have you been a paladin long?” “I’m newly graduated,” I say, “But I’ve been an initiate for about four years.” Ayla grinned slightly. “Must be nice going on adventures and helping people all the time.” “It has its perks and its downfalls.” I reply, thinking of my encounter with Nymeria in the forest. I’m starting to sway back and forth in place now. It’s getting increasingly difficult to remain still. “And what is your profession?” I asked. “I’m just… exploring the world.” Ayla answers. “I come from Drogoth.” “I didn’t realize there were human settlements there.” I say. If you thought Arcadia was rife with danger, then Drogoth is something out of nightmares. A largely untamed land due to the presence of large creatures, such as harpies, large spiders, and the occasional giant. Monsters and savage creatures ruled that area. Few dared to travel through it, though I’ve heard that Arcadian outlaws sometimes flee there. And that gave me pause about Ayla. She wasn’t… she couldn’t be… was she? “Yes, I came from a small village there. It wasn’t the most luxurious life, but we made do. I guess I just… wanted more. So I left to seek my own adventure. Is that weird?” I shake my head. “I became a paladin for similar reasons.” “Not to serve the church? Or justice?” “I wanted to help people.” I explained. “I wanted to be the change this world needed– to fight off the evils of this realm and help people to live another day safely. But after today… I’m starting to realize how tall of an order that truly is.” Ayla nodded. “This world does indeed have elements to it which surpass our abilities. I’ve heard terrifying tales of dragons and other such monsters which rule the south and the north. Though it would be quite the tale, I don’t know if I have the power or courage to face such a beast.” I had forgotten about that. Dragons. They’re believed to predate even the earliest human and elven settlers. The only thing that seems to keep them from annihilating us mere mortals are their isolationist mentalities… or each other. However, I had more pressing concerns. If Ayla was indeed a criminal… I had to know. So I asked her, and not discreetly. She gives me an annoyed look, as if I just sullied her entire character. “I have never once committed a crime that would warrant such a dastardly consequence! In fact-“ she gives me a puzzled look. “Are you… okay?” I realize now that my legs are crossed and I’m bouncing where I stand. I have to pee so badly. The conversation was serving as a distraction but I start to come to the realization that I just can’t hold it any longer. “I… really have to pee.” The words fall out of my mouth like rocks upon a slope. “A-Ah… I see…” Ayla blushes a bit. “Well… I’ll just turn away. Do your business wherever you like.” She averts her gaze from me and I move into a patch of grass. As I squat down, I realize it wasn’t nearly as much cover as I had hoped it would be. I pull my trousers down and it would be very easy for someone to see my exposed body. But I just… can’t… hold it. I stand up slightly so I’m in more of a partial squat, sticking my… uhm… back end… out a bit. And I release. By the Lord, I can’t believe how much noise it makes as I pee on the hard dirt below. The last time I squatted all the way down, though, I ended up peeing on my boots. All I can think about, however, is that I really hope Ayla isn’t looking at me in this incredibly humiliating position. Ten seconds pass. Twenty seconds. “Wow, you really had to go, didn’t you?” Ayla calls out. “I’m really sorry…” “It’s no trouble.” Ayla says awkwardly. “Maybe next time don’t hold it in for so long?” “I’ll try…” Can my body please stop producing urine now? This is embarrassing enough as it is! But it just… keeps… going. After what felt like a full minute, I feel the stream die down. It’s over. I give my lady parts a quick wipe with my hand and pull my trousers back up. “I’m really sorry about that.” Ayla chuckled a bit. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” “I know, I just… feel really self-conscious about doing it in front of other people.” I walk over and sit next to the fire, just staring at the flames, trying to forget about how embarrassed I felt. It reminded me of a past incident I had. “So tell me more about being a paladin!” Ayla suddenly asked, leaning towards me. “You must have had some interesting tales and adventures!” “Like I said, I was only recently inducted,” I say, “Most of what I encountered was just dealing with petty thievery and drunken brawls. Rarely do I see anything as exciting as a good bandit raid.” She looked at me with an eager expression. I could tell Ayla wanted to hear a more dashing tale, but the truth was that I was a novice adventurer. I didn’t have any grand tales to share. So I just helplessly shrug and give her an awkward smile. “Well…” Ayla started to draw a circle in the dirt with her finger. “I did hear about a bounty that was posted on a few rebels in the area. They’ve been raiding farms and taking supplies apparently.” “Really!?” I say with shock and enthusiasm. “Maybe we could take it on together?” I nod. “I’m not interested in the reward, of course! I simply want to help my people!” Ayla grinned. “Of course.” I couldn’t help but smile back. I found a real friend out here in the wilderness. We both woke up a bit too early the next morning. The sun hadn’t even broken over the horizon. But the childish grins on our faces were evident to all. We were two young adventurers about to take on our first real quest as a team.
  23. There is a list of people I’d like to thank before we get to the story. I’d like to thank @Bulge_Lover for being my editor and inspiring me to write medieval themed stories. Had it not been for him, I would have never taken to writing about medieval stuff. He has always been there for me and motivated me whenever I needed it. Thank you so much my friend! Your advice has always proved to be helpful. Thank you so much for everything. It wouldn’t have been possible without you! I’d like thank @KozmoFox for reviewing my work when it was still at a nascent stage. Thank you so much! You are an inspiration and your guidance was really helpful! I got to learn so much from you. Thank you! It wouldn’t have been possible without you! Thank you @OmoCommando for editing the first part of this story for me. You were truly kind and helpful and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me with my work. I’d like to thank @holditin for always inspiring me with his works and giving me the strength to believe that I can write whatever I love to write. Thank you so much buddy! You truly are an inspiration! And in the end, I’d like to thank @full-bladder12 for always motivating me and pushing me to keep writing omorashi! Thank you so much for supporting my work! I owe you big time! Thank you! Coming to the story, it is the sequel to my previous work, A Song of Swords, which I’m sure some of you might have read. It has a medieval setup which means it highly underlines the medieval practice of violence, though I promise you it was all necessary for the story. The story is built upon the base of the great fantasy works famous throughout the world, which will be evident once you begin the journey. These great works of literature have always inspired me and I’ve always wanted my work to be a reflection of them. I hope I’ve done justice to the great writers who have written these stories and to my readers as well. ---------------------------------- The Rains Of War CHAPTER- I THE CITY OF THE GODS The loud cry of warhorns, the screech and thud of catapults tossing stones, the crashes and splinters, the crackle of burning pitch, the fling of scorpions releasing their iron headed shafts, the ceaseless clangour of bells... and with it all, the cries of dying men. The sounds of battle pervaded the halls of the King’s Fort, where in a bunker the trestle tables were filled with the highborn ladies of the city, along with a handful of old men and young boys. The Queen had promised they all would be safe here. She sat on the high dais with her son, Prince Iwan. Her gown had a shade of green, like the colour of the sea after a storm. Her hair was tied in a bun and around her slender neck hung a rope of diamonds and emeralds. She signalled for her mug of beer to be refilled while the others quietly went at their broth. They had been here since morning, since the first report of the advancing enemy had reached the castle, praying to the mother as their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers and nephews prepared for battle. Though silence prevailed in the room, the air was heavy with fear, Queen Charlotte could sense it. If they were to lose this war, the Daltons would not spare even a single one of them. They had been raiding her father’s lands ever since she had managed to slip out of their clutches almost a year ago. Towns were brutally sacked, the buildings burned, the bodies of men, women and children butchered in the streets and left as fodder for rats and carrion crows. The long struggle had left the Torrington forces tired, beaten and broken trying to defend their lands from the enemy’s incessant onslaught. For long now, the Queen had worried about what would happen if Lord Reynard decided to march for Godswick. There was nothing to stop him from taking the city and the throne, and now all her fears were coming true. The attack she had dreaded for so long was at last at hand. The news of the approaching Dalton army had incited terror in the city streets. Thousands of smallfolk had streamed out the city gates in these past few days, carrying their children and their worldly possessions on their backs to seek safety in the country side, while others dug pits and tunnels under their hovels, dark clammy holes where they hoped to hide whilst the city burned. Riots had broken out all over the city as mobs surged through the streets, looting as they went. Hundreds died in stampedes, women were raped, and young ones had been plucked from their mothers’ breasts. The city guard lost over a hundred of their men trying to control the crowd. The Queen had ordered the city gates to be closed and barred days ago, sending watchmen to the walls and dispatching pigeons to Longford, carrying a message for her brother Walter, pleading him to come to her aid at once. As well, she had commanded pigeons to be sent to all the lords loyal to the crown, summoning them to the defence of their Queen, but most of them were afraid to stand against the Daltons and those who weren’t had already been put to sword. The city stood defenceless, like a lamb before a pack of wolves and the fate of the crown now rested in the hands of the almighty. The broth was followed by a salad of diced red-skinned apples, celery, grapes, chopped walnuts and yogurt. However scared, the guests ate whatever was served to them, though not the Queen, her plate was left untouched. After the salad came roast fowl, served along with frumenty and cabbage pottage, trailed by mutton roasted with leeks and carrots, served in trenchers of hollowed bread along with chicken covered with yolks and sprinkled with spices. The war raged outside the city walls till late at night. Thousands lost their lives, some only their arms or legs. The city was an image of blood, mud, fire and smoke. Arrows, rocks, screams and curses flew freely in the air. The guardians of the city fought bravely till the wee hours of morning but when the tide of the battle started turning in favour of the Daltons, their courage deserted them. Many threw down their weapons and ran, many yielded, but the most devastating blow to the city came when the captains commanding the twelve gates were murdered by their own men. A bit of coin had weakened the loyalty of those who were thought to be the city’s protectors. The city gates were opened to the Dalton army. For all the vaunted strength of its walls, Godswick fell in less than a day. A bloody fight waged at one of the gates where a few knights and men-at-arms still loyal to the crown tried to fight the enemies and hold against attacks both from inside the city and out, but their courage was for vain as Lord Reynard’s army poured in through the other gates unmolested. The realization that they were vastly outnumbered took the heart out of the Queen’s men. When they saw that resistance was futile, the members of the royal council surrendered the keys to the castle, bowing their heads in defeat, and ordered the knights and men-at-arms to lay down their swords. Though he had conquered the city, Lord Reynard’s triumph was far from complete. The Dalton soldiers stormed the castle and killed everyone they could find. But when they broke down the doors of the bunker they only found a flock of frightened women. The Queen had fled with her son, along with the knights Barnabus Ricaud, Mark Ambrose, and Robyn Hawksworth of the Queensguard. Not even the members of the council seemed to know where they had gone, and none had seen them pass through the city gates. CHAPTER- II WELCOME Rain lashed at Charlotte's face as she spurred her horse across the swollen stream. Beside her, Sir Mark gave the reins a tug and his mount neighed in response. A cold wind made the trees dance and sent the wet leaves flapping around them. She looked back at Iwan and hoped he could keep up. Though the Prince was now all of eleven, he still was not a good rider even in fair weather, and a whole day of rain had left the ground muddy with hidden rocks. The wind brought the water right into Charlotte’s eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her sodden and itching, her butt sore after the long ride. The sound of steady wash of rain against leaves filled her ears. It was mid-afternoon, yet the forest seemed as dark as dusk. All the beer and water she had drunk since yesterday sloshed inside her cavernous bladder, yet she rode on without a thought of it. Even now she felt no more than a slight urge for relief. The cold air made her shivery and her fingers felt stiff, she longed for a fire and a little tea to warm her. They wove a path between rocks and puddles, past great oaks, grey-green sentinels, and black-barked ironwoods. In places the branches wove a canopy overhead and she found a moment's respite from the drumming of the rain against her head. From a distance, she could see the massive walls and stout towers of Tilsworth. Green banners flew from its battlements, displaying the graceful golden deer of its lord. Lord Gilbert Furnival had been a loyal support to her father and had followed him into many wars without doubts or questions. She knew he would protect her and her son. When they got close enough a knight rode out to meet them. His armour was grey, but his cloak was the rippling green and black of Tilsworth. “Who goes there? State your purpose.” “Sir Mark Ambrose, with Her Highness Queen Charlotte and Prince Iwan,” the Queensguard answered. The knight lifted his visor. “I thought the lady looked familiar. It is a pleasure to have you both here, my Queen and my Prince,” he bowed. “May we enter the castle?” Sir Barnabus asked. The knight nodded in agreement. “In the name of Robert Furnival, Lord of Tilsworth, I bid you enter freely, and charge you to keep his peace.” “Robert?” Charlotte’s voice sounded her confusion, “I’m here to meet Lord Gilbert, his father.” “Forgive my man’s folly, my Queen,” she heard Robert call as he approached, guarded by half a dozen men-at-arms of his own. “My Lord father awaits you inside the castle.” He smiled and bowed. “My apologies he couldn’t be here to greet you, his health keeps him confined to his chambers.” Her mind found itself restless, her body a victim of fatigue. All she wanted to do now was take a long piss and go to sleep. Dulled by exhaustion, she nodded at Sir Mark. Stable boys took their horses from there and they walked inside afoot. “This way, if it please you, my Queen,” the Lord showed them the way, “You honour us greatly by being our guest, Your Highness.” But before she could respond to Lord Robert’s greetings, they came across something in the courtyard they would have never imagined … though Lord Gilbert’s charred corpse was burned beyond all recognition, hanging from the gallows; only by the jade ring he used to wear on his left thumb did Charlotte know him. The blood drained from the Queen’s cheeks, but young Prince Iwan was the first to realize what it meant. “Mother, run!” he shouted, but it was too late. Lord Robert’s men, over forty strong, fell upon the three Queensguard. An axe took Sir Robyn Hawksworth’s head before his sword could come out of its scabbard, and Sir Barnabus was stabbed through the back with a spear. Men closed from both sides. Sir Mark Ambrose reached back over his shoulder, ripped his sword from its sheath, and buried the blade in the head of the first man to come at him. Bronze was no match for steel. The blow sheared right through the guard’s helm and deep into his skull, Sir Mark kicked on his shoulder to free his sword, which came out blanketed with blood. Steel rang on steel as he danced with his sword and corpses fell to his feet, one after the other before a spear pierced through the back of his neck. Blood sprouted from his mouth as he choked with the fall and with him died the last of the Queen’s defenders. “Sir Mark Ambrose.... the greatest swordsman to ever walk....,” Robert smiled as he looked at the dead bodies lying all around him. Charlotte pulled her son to her chest,“Why?!” she yelled, tears welling from her eyes, the terror of her life stopping the words in her throat. For a moment she had thought she was safe. “Sometimes the old must go, to make place for the new. King Reynard is the new lord of the twelve kingdoms and anyone who denies his claim will die, just like my old Lord father did,” Robert stated. He signalled his guards with his head and they pulled Iwan away from her. “Mother!” he shouted. “No!” she screamed, trying to fight the men but to no gain. Her son was gone, she could not see him anymore. Where had they taken him? She did not know. CHAPTER- III DARK Her eyes had never starved for light like this ever before. There were no windows, no bed, no goblets made of gold that she was used to. Only darkness. She remembered walls of black stone, incompletely covered in a blanket of moss, a brownish door of splintered wood, four inches thick and studded with iron. She had seen them, briefly, a quick glimpse as they shoved her inside. Once the door had slammed shut, she had seen no more. The dark was absolute. She now knew how it might feel to be blind. The dungeon was under the castle, deeper than she dared imagine. Robert’s face seemed to float before her in the darkness. His shrewd, cunning eyes, his smile reflecting mockery. She wept when she thought of Iwan, though as silently as she could. The thought of him was as painful as a sword through the heart. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She wondered whether she would ever see him again. For how long she had been here she did not know. There was no sun and no moon. Charlotte closed her eyes and opened them; it made no difference. She slept and woke and slept again. She did not know which was more horrifying, waking or sleeping. When she slept, she dreamed of death and blood, and when she woke, all she could think of was about the same. Her bladder was jutting out of her abdomen now, filled with three days worth of piss. She knew she was in a dungeon, she knew she was alone and no one would see her if she decided to relieve herself here on the floor, but her pride stopped her. She was a lady, and a proper lady always and only relieved herself in a privy or a chamber pot and nowhere else. She was half-asleep when the footsteps came down the hall. Water, she thought. When the heavy wooden door creaked open, the sudden light was painful to her eyes, though she had grown used to it in this short while. The gaoler thrust a jug at her. The clay was cool and beaded with moisture. She grasped it with both hands and drank eagerly till it was empty. They brought her water every three to four hours but every time she drank it like she’d been thirsty for days. Something made her throat dry, maybe it was the fear. “How long..?” she asked weakly. The gaoler was an ugly man with a pot belly and bald, clad in a mail shirt and a leather half cape. “No talking,” he said as he pulled the jug from her hands. “Please,” Charlotte said, “my son...,” The door crashed shut. She blinked as the light vanished, lowered her head to her chest, and curled up on the straw. She could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. For as long as her spirit and strength gave her consent, she begged the man for some word of her son and the world beyond her cell. Grunts and kicks were her only replies. Later, when the stomach cramps began, she begged for food instead. Though they did not feed her, the gaoler brought her mugs of milk from time to time. One thing was clear to her by now, if Robert wanted her dead, he would have cut her down the moment he saw her. He wanted her alive. Weak, desperate, yet alive. But why? She lay there on the straw in silence as her bladder swelled further with all the water and milk and all the beer she had before leaving her castle. She ran a hand over her belly and wondered when she’d get to use a privy? Will they ever let her out of here? If not, would she just have to keep holding it? For long she listened to the sounds of beating and torture from other cells, she listened until she could listen no more to the cries and pleas, begging for the gift of death. Horror crept under her skin, so much that she lost her sleep. It had been two days since she had eaten, or maybe three. Down here in the dark it was hard to tell. But at least they brought her milk, the other prisoners did not get even that. But she could feel all the liquid bothering her bladder now. She wondered what fate had in store for her. Would she get out alive? Whenever she closed her eyes, she found herself remembering her husband. All this would have never happened had he been alive. Suddenly, she heard the sounds outside the dungeon door. It was strange. They had brought her water and milk just a while ago, so she knew this wasn’t that. They were coming to beat her, they would torture her. At once she froze, fearing even to breathe. She listened in terror, hard as stone, to the scuff of boots and the clanking of iron keys. No, she thought, no, please gods, not me, not me. She did not want to die, not this way. The sounds were growing louder. Please gods, he isn’t coming for me, she prayed, crouched down in a corner of her cell. Go away, she prayed, go away, pass me by, please, please. But the footsteps stopped just when they were loudest, and the keys clattered right outside the door. Her hands trembled in horror. “No,” she mumbled, “Noooo.” Her clothes fought with the straw as she tried to push herself into the corner, into the cold damp stone walls. The sound of the lock turning was the most terrible of all. Torchlight fell across her face as the door creaked open. She shielded her eyes with a hand. And when the man came to stand before her, she let out a shriek. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He was simply too big to be unintimidating and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of clay pots, and his feet in their leather boots were like tree trunks. She looked at him wide eyed, afraid that he was going to smash her skull open or do something even worse. Charlotte was certain she was going to die tonight but then the giant opened his mouth, “My Queen, don’t be scared,” he bowed down a bit, “I’m Gunther, the kennel master, come with me, I’ll get you out of here” he said. For a moment she did not believe him. Maybe this was a trap. But how much worse could it get? “My son” her lips trembled, tears flooding her cheeks. He held out his vast muscular arms to help her up. “Don’t worry, he has escaped,” the giant whispered. “Now come with me before someone sees us.” The gaoler was dead drunk in a puddle of wine, with his breeches down around his ankles. They quickly climbed the steep dungeon steps, the flame of the torch in Gunther’s hand flickering like a dancer’s hips. “The Hunter’s Gate has no guards,” he spoke but Queen Charlotte didn’t reply; only looked at him. She walked rigidly, with her thighs slightly pressed together and a hand on her stomach, a sign that she would like to let out her three days worth of urine, but she didn’t let it show and kept her composure strong. It was a chill dank autumn night. Clouds hid the roof of stars above and wind made the trees dance. It smelled like rain. Charlotte did not know whether that was good or bad for their escape. No one saw them, and they saw no one, only a black cat creeping along atop the wall. The fires were out, and the castle fast asleep. The postern gate was unguarded, just as he had said. Outside the walls of Tilsworth, a wolf howled long and loud. Gunther lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door, they slipped from the castle and splashed across the stream, stumbling over stones. Wisps of pale mist threaded between the trees. Sentinels and soldier pines grew thick about here, and there was nothing as dark and gloomy as an evergreen forest. CHAPTER- IV A FRIEND INDEED The rays of the morning sun pierced through the roof of leaves over their heads, showing them the way ahead. Her mount walked forward in the dense forest, beside Gunther’s large garron. They crossed a shallow stream and went deeper into the woods. Many a times during the cold night that went by, Queen Charlotte had found the moments to close her eyes and sleep, even if it was for short whiles. But the man had been awake since their escape. Only once had he stopped to rest and eat apples that he had carried in a sack. Charlotte had been fending off her increasing bladder pangs for hours now, trying not to think much of it. Taking a deep breath, she again reminded herself that she had to wait until she got to a privy or a chamber pot, no matter how badly she wanted to go. She knew her bladder was much too large but everyone had their limits. More and more she found herself thinking of emptying her swollen vessel but every time she erased the thought from her mind. She looked around to take her mind off her need and felt as if she knew the place. “The Enchanted Forest,” she sighed. Of all the tales her Lord father had told her of the place, one she had cherished more than the rest. It told of a monstrous beast that lived in this forest over ten thousand years ago, a lion with the head of a goat arising from its back, and a tail that ended with a snake’s head. Every night the fiend would appear from the forest to hunt people from the nearby village. It killed anyone it could find men, women or children and dragged them back to its den to devour. To appease the creature, the people of the village fed it two sheep every day. But when they ran out of sheep they started feeding it their children who they would choose through draw. There came a time when the lot fell on the lord’s daughter.The lord, in his grief, told the people they could have all his gold and silver and half of his lands if his daughter were spared but the people refused. The poor girl was sent out to the forest to be fed to the monster. But just when it appeared from the woods, snarling at the trembling girl, Sir Richard Cantillon, who happened to be riding through, thrust his sword into the beast’s back. A gory battle took place between the knight and the monster which ended when Sir Richard buried his sword into the animal’s stomach. It died, but not before bathing the warrior in a burst of flames that cooked him in his armour. When she was a child, all Charlotte wanted was to become like Sir Richard Cantillon, strong, valiant and kind. But the older she grew, the more she realized that what she wanted did not matter. What mattered was her father’s name and the honour of their house, what mattered was her husband’s crown and the name it held and what mattered was her son’s life and the throne he was going to sit on. She now knew that her life had never been her own. It had been for others, the ones she loved. They went on for another hour before in the middle of the dense forest they came upon a small hut with a chimney that had smoke coming out of it. Gunther lifted her from the saddle and gently landed her on the ground before knocking on the thick wooden door, “Martha?” The door opened and stepped out a beautiful middle aged woman, who looked gentle by her appearance. “Your Highness, this is Martha, my wife,” Gunther said. “Oh, my Queen!” Martha bowed when she realized who stood before her, “It is such a great pleasure to have you here!” she couldn’t control her joy and kissed Charlotte’s hands, “Please do come in” she welcomed Her Highness, and the Queen smiled meekly, trying to conceal her bladder fatigue. “The potatoes are on boiling and the kettle's singing, Gunther, you'll get us some fish," Martha echoed. “Of course, my dear,” the giant picked up the net that hung outside and left for the brook nearby. Meanwhile Martha filled the kettle, lay the table, cut the bread and put the plates in the oven to heat and drew a huge jug of beer for Gunther from a barrel which stood in one corner of the house. Just as the frying-pan was nicely hissing, Gunther came in with the fish which he had already opened with his knife and cleaned out in the open air. The new-caught fish smelled rich while they were fried it, making him feel hungrier. Martha drained the potatoes and then put them all back in the empty pot to dry on the side of the range before dishing up the trout as everyone prepared to eat. There was a jug of creamy milk for the Queen and a great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table to go with their potatoes. Though the Queen only had some bread along with the milk, she felt hungry no more. “I would like to thank you both, I owe you my life,” Charlotte spoke, “I promise you’ll be rewarded handsomely for this,” she finished as she looked at them. “Oh, that won’t be needed, my Queen,” Martha smiled, “It is our duty to serve Her Highness.” She forced a smile but her concern soon boiled over. “I’m worried for Iwan, I don’t know where he might be now,” she held her face. “Norman, one of the stable boys, I asked him to take the Prince to your brother who is not too far away from the capital now, moving forward with this mighty host,” Gunther assured her, “We could have escaped together but this way it will be difficult for them to catch us.” “Does my brother know?” Charlotte asked, her fist clenching tightly over the table. “No, he doesn’t,” Gunther replied, “Robert planned to sell you to a flesh merchant from across the Troubled Sea. Men would kill to have the Queen warm their bed. It won’t be long before the word gets out though,” he stood up, “Robert will have his men looking for you, that is why I brought you here.” Martha filled one of Gunther’s huge beer jugs and placed it before the Queen. “Thank you,” Charlotte said with a wry smile, avoiding mentioning her swelling bladder. Despite a wait this long, the Queen was not desperate. The beer was going to make its presence felt soon enough but she knew she could hold it. “Lord Walter plans to march on Godswick when the time is right. Reynard Dalton sits warily on the throne. His forces have dwindled but many have joined his cause, mainly out of fear,” the giant said. “I must be with my brother... I must go to Walter...,” Charlotte found herself drowning in her pool of thoughts. “It won’t be safe for you to move out right now,” Gunther added, “I say, you stay here, my Queen.” “I know, but I need to know where Iwan is,” she said, “I’m worried for him.” “I know, my Queen,” Gunther spoke softly, “....but I assure you he is safe, might have as well reached your brother’s camp.” That calmed her down a bit but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m afraid I must leave your here with my wife, Your Highness,” Gunther said, “I must go back to Tilsworth or they’ll come looking for me.” With a nod she gave him her leave and Gunther looked at his wife before stepping out of the door. Just as he left, Martha came to her, with her legs crossed and her body bent a little, “My Queen, if I may have your permission, can I go out to relieve myself? I haven’t been all day.......,” “Well, of course you may,” Charlotte answered. In that moment, she wished she was a commoner as well. Then she could have peed anywhere she wanted and no one would have cared. But she was the Queen; it would botch the name of her family if she was to do something like that. She shook her head and let that thought go. Hold it, she told herself as she clenched her fists over the table. As Martha rushed out, Charlotte walked to the window and looked intently at the woman. She saw Martha lift up her dress, which revealed her bulging bladder, it was gigantic! It was nothing close to her own swollen bladder but it was huge none the less. Charlotte turned around when she saw Martha begin to squat and went near the fire place but in her mind she imagined the relief that might be flowing through the woman’s body. She wanted that relief too but she knew she’d have to wait for it. As the night fell, Charlotte began to feel cold. Thus Martha heated up the mare’s milk she had full in a huge cauldron and filled a mug for Charlotte. The Queen felt much better as she began to sip the hot drink. It was something she had never tasted before, sweet and foamy and creamy, and it warmed her right down to her toes. She stayed up all night, sitting by the fireplace with a blanket around her, drinking the mare’s milk. By the morning the cauldron was empty but the Queen felt tired and her headache had worsened. Her shoulders pained and her fingers felt stiff. After she came back from picking cherries off the bushes, Martha brewed the Queen a kettle of hot nettle tea, which gave the Charlotte a slight respite from the headache. The warmth spread through her body and made her feel better. She cradled the tea in her hands and blew on it to cool it. Fate seems to be upset with me, Charlotte thought as she sipped the astringent tea, before I go to my son, I only wish to see my father once. But she knew she could not. She had written to him before the day Godswick fell. I love you father, I pray for you to the Lord each night, may he grant us strength in these difficult times. Over the day she drank over a dozen kettles of nettle tea and though it made her feel warm and nice, it didn’t help abate her headache. It made her want to pee more but she corked it up like an iron horse. When the night had shrouded the forest in its dark and Martha and Charlotte had fallen asleep, a sudden banging at the door woke them up. Martha opened the door to find Gunther, with a look of fear on his face, “Hurry, we must leave right now, Lord Robert’s men are on their way here! There’s not a moment to lose...,” Martha turned swiftly and handed over a blanket to Queen Charlotte, before picking up sacks and laying them on the table, "Gunther, just reach down that ham and get two or three loaves out of the crock over there in the corner." "What are you doing?" exclaimed Gunther. "Packing a load for each of us, dearie," said Martha chaotically. "You didn't think we'd set out on a journey with nothing to eat, did you?" "But we do not have any time to waste!" said Charlotte, wrapping the blanket around herself. "They may be here any minute." "That's what I say," added Gunther. Martha packed whatever little she could and they all rushed out. Queen Charlotte walked, her bladder straining with the movement and Gunther helped her on her horse, before they set out into the cold night. CHAPTER- V THE ONE OF HER OWN Martha had gone ahead to scout, and it was she who brought back word of the army at a distance. "By their fires I think they might be twenty thousand strong," she said. "Their banners are green, with a dancing horse." "It is my brother," Charlotte said, her mammoth bladder aching after the long night’s ride. She put her heels to her horse and trotted off, giving Gunther and his wife no choice but to follow or be left behind. Distant watchers peered down from watchposts made of wood as the three rode towards them. A dozen crossbowmen manned the uneven hilltops. Charlotte halted Martha and Gunther out of range and rode up. "Who commands here?" she shouted. The captain was quick to appear, and even quicker to give them an escort when he recognized the Queen. She could see the camp spread out to a vast distance. Mailed men sat under trees and honed their blades, and familiar banners fluttered from staffs thrust into the muddy ground. The air was filled with the smoky haze of a thousand cook fires. Thousands of pavilions rose from the grass like silken mushrooms. A party of mounted horsemen rode forward to greet them as they ventured further in. The knight who led them wore silver armour inlaid with ametrine and striped purple and golden cloak and his shield bore a lamp for the sigil. Charlotte reined up to greet him. “Sir Adam.” Sir Adam Popplewell lifted his visor. "Your Highness," he said in astonishment. "We all feared for your safety, it is a blessing to see you unharmed!" He looked at the giant and the beautiful woman besides him uncertainly. "These . . . friends of yours . . .” "My travel companions," Charlotte said. "Where will I find my brother?" "He is in his pavilion." "I will see him at once." "As you say, my Queen." Lord Walter’s camp spread over leagues. Martha’s estimate of twenty thousand men could not be far wrong. The common men camped out in the open, but the knights had thrown up tents, and some of the high lords had erected pavilions as large as houses. Near all the chivalry of the east had come to Walter’s call, it seemed. Charlotte could see the silver eagle of the Calverts, Lord Longwood's pine tree, the bells of Swinton, the beaver of Stillman. Everyone bowed as she rode past, containing all the water beer and milk she had consumed as it streamed into her bladder. And even though she was holding this much, her demeanour was calm as ever and only her bulbous abdomen could tell otherwise. Martha was gaping back; beyond a certainty, she had never seen so many men, horses, and weapons in all her days. A pair of house guards in greenish cloaks and helms stood outside the great pavilion, on either side of the door. Charlotte recognized their captain. "My brother?" "Inside, my Queen." "Those two who came with me will want clothes to wear, beds to rest and meat and mead to fill their stomachs," Charlotte told him. "See that they are well taken care of." She entered the pavilion, and there was Walter. She found her brother surrounded by their father’s lords bannermen. Walter Torrington, The acting Lord of Longford, was in his early thirties. He was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders and a flat stomach. With rich black hair, a handsome face and brown eyes. He stood leaning onto the table, a pile of maps and papers in front of him, talking intently with Earl Calvert and Victor Atwell. At first he did not notice her... but the other lords did. The lords fell silent one by one, and Walter looked up at the sudden quiet and saw her. “Charlotte?” he said, his voice thick with sentiment. Charlotte wanted to run to him, to hug him so she could feel safe again, but here in front of his lords, she dared not. So she held herself at the far end of the table. Lord Hadrian was the first to travel across the tent to pay his respects, kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. “My Queen,” he said, “you are fair as ever, a welcome sight in troubled times.” Lord Earl followed, his son Baron, and the rest, one by one. Sir Duncan was the last. “I had not looked to see you here, my Queen,” he said as he knelt. “I had not thought to be here,” Charlotte said, “....until I escaped from Tilsworth, and someone told me that Walter had his host moving towards the capital.” “My Queen, we had men looking for you everywhere but none of them could find you...,” Lord Victor said. The lords were anxious to talk to her, but Charlotte raised a hand. “No doubt we will have time for all this later, but my journey has fatigued me. I would speak with my brother alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Calvert, the bannermen bowed and took their leave. “Have you had any word of Iwan?” she asked the moment she was sure they were alone. “There was a letter,” Walter said. He went to the table, rummaged among some maps and papers, and returned with a crumpled parchment. Something in Walter’s tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. Her son was Lord Reynard’s prisoner now. She held the table for support as something broke inside her and tears came to her eyes. “He wants me to surrender you to him as well and ask my men to ride back home,” he added. “And if we march... even if we win... he’ll kill Iwan.” Her hopes were crushed, the light within her suddenly dimming. She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think. All she knew was she couldn’t lose. Not after coming this far. “If you turn your tail and retreat to Longford, your lords will lose all respect for you. Some may even go over to the Daltons. Then Reynard, with that much less to fear, can do as he likes with Iwan,” Charlotte looked at him with pleading eyes. “Our best hope, our only true hope, is that you can defeat the foe in the field. If you should chance to take Lord Reynard or any of his sons captive, then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as you have power enough that he must fear you, Iwan should be safe. Reynard is wise enough to know that he may need him to make peace, should the fighting go against him.” “What if the fighting doesn’t go against him?” Walter asked. “What if it goes against us? He has twice the numbers I have.” “They say the Daltons have hearts of stone.” Charlotte looked down for a moment and then towards him, “If you lose, there is no hope for any of us.” Walter saw the fear and desperation in her eyes. “Then I will not lose,” he vowed. CHAPTER- VI THE STONE TABLE The morning that followed was a strange one. Charlotte woke up in her pavilion that was larger than the common rooms of an inn and furnished with every comfort: feather mattress and sleeping furs, a wood-and-copper tub large enough for two, braziers to keep off the night's chill, slung leather camp chairs, a writing table with quills and inkpot, bowls of peaches, plums, and pears, a flagon of wine with a set of matched silver cups, cedar chests packed full of clothing, books, maps, game boards, a high harp, a tall bow and a quiver of arrows, a pair of red-tailed hunting hawks and more. She tried to sit up on her bed but felt an immense increase in pressure as she did so. Her bladder was now rock hard. The barrel of beer she had emptied last night while discussing the battle plan with her brother and his bannermen was now brewing inside her bladder, stretching it out immensely. She still was not at her limits, but she was very, very full and her bladder felt very heavy in her abdomen. She quickly dressed herself up but before she left for her brother’s pavilion, Charlotte reminded herself that she had to act normally no matter how much her bladder ached. She was determined to keep her legs uncrossed all the times. She knew she was in full command of her bladder and she could wait to empty it. So, nursing her bursting bladder, she walked as normally as she could to her brother’s camp. She found him sitting on his chair, looking carefully at the map that lay before him. “Your Highness,” he rose up to greet her. “Is there any word of Iwan?” Charlotte asked as she walked towards her seat, containing in her iron bladder litres and litres of urine. “Well, no. But the scouts report King Reynard has moved his army further up,” Walter studied the pieces on the map, “He wants to end this as far away from the capital as he can.” Just then a knight entered the pavilion, "Sorry to interrupt you My Lord, but there is a messenger from Reynard Dalton." Charlotte looked at her brother and he looked back at her. "Let him approach," said Walter. The knight went away and soon returned leading the King’s messenger. “What is your message?” asked Walter. "The King of Solambria desires a safe conduct to come and speak with you," he said, "on a matter which is of as much concern to you as to him." "King of Solambria, indeed!" said Charlotte. "That bastard -" “Charlotte, no,” said Walter, “.... we might have a chance to get Iwan back” he added, “Tell your King, that I grant him safe conduct.” The messenger bowed and left. The hours that went by left Charlotte’s mind laden with the thoughts of her son and for once she did not think of her bladder that was now swollen outrageously to contain the copious amount of liquid she had consumed. Even when she felt the need she acted as if her bladder was empty. Only the significant bulge of her abdomen told otherwise. The wait was getting on her nerves, but she did not worry. She knew her bladder would swell further if needs be but would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. A herald’s voice suddenly boomed across the empty skies, “Here comes King Reynard of the House Dalton, the fifth of his name, Emperor of the twelve kingdoms and the father of the realm.” The Queen felt a shudder running down her back at the sight of his face. Murmurs rose from the men around. The only two people present who seemed to be quite at their ease were Walter and the King himself. They entered the tent and took their seats. "The bitch is here," said Reynard looking at Charlotte, his voice cold and straight “and I have her pup.” His words enraged Walter but he reined the storm within him. "Well," said Walter. "What do you want from us?" “What do I want? Huh!” Reynard grinned, “You speak as if you do not know. I want both their heads on spikes, yours too if you don’t mind.” “You have Iwan, why haven’t you killed him yet if that is what you want?” “Well oft times I’ve heard that a live captive is of more value than a dead one,” Reynard breathed. He looked at Charlotte and then at her brother. "Have you forgotten the Laws of the God?" asked the King, coming straight to the point, his voice stiller than before. "Let us say I have forgotten them," answered Walter gravely. "Tell us of these Laws." "Tell you?" said Reynard, his voice growing suddenly shriller. "Tell you what is written on that very Table of Stone that the Servants of the God carved with their own hands? You very well know the Laws of the God. You know that as the King of Solambria, every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have the right to kill." He looked at her again. "And so," continued Reynard, "....the Prince and his mother are mine. Their lives are forfeit to me. Their blood is my property." Charlotte stood on Walter’s side, looking all the time at his face. She felt a choking feeling and wondered if she ought to say something; but she didn’t know what to say. "Charlotte," said Walter, "I will talk to the King alone." She turned and left the pavilion. It was a terrible time this - waiting and wondering while Walter and King Reynard talked. They talked for long and until the night fell dark and the shimmering stars glowed in the sky. As she waited outside the tent, Charlotte gave an “aah!” and hiked one leg up as the bladder pangs grew stronger but then stood confidently without giving a trace of her desperation to the men around her, as her organ swelled past the six day mark. The gallons of water she had today were stretching her bladder walls even further. There was going to be no release of pressure until she wished it and there would be no giving into the desperate need to let out the massive lake that she had inside her, she’d just have to wait. Then suddenly King Reynard appeared out of the tent and left without saying so much as a word. Charlotte went to her brother who took a last sip from his goblet of wine. "I have settled the matter. He has renounced the claim on your lives." Charlotte felt so relieved, as if she had began to breathe again. She held her bladder as a smile ran across her face. “...and he promised to send Iwan back early on the morrow,” he continued. She couldn’t believe her ears, her joy knew no bounds. Then, she stopped, “But what did he ask for in return?” she could read the sorrow on her brother’s face. But of that she did not get an answer as Lord Walter stood up and left. Charlotte couldn’t sleep that night. She had a horrible feeling - as if something was hanging over them. She felt as if something dreadful was going to happen to her brother. Early morning the next day, as he had promised, King Reynard returned the Prince to them. Sir Adam Popplewell brought him to the Queen and she pulled him to her loving embrace, “Oh, my son....,” she cried as her fingers ruffled through his hair. “Mother!” he sobbed, the wound on his lower lip paining him. She ran her hands through his beautiful face and wept, thanking the God. “They killed Norman and they tried to kill my friend too but he got away!” the young Prince cried when he found the strength to speak. “Friend? Who?” “My friend, Tirius!” Iwan told her, trembling. “Tirius?” Charlotte believed she had never heard that name before. “Yes, mother. He is my friend,” the Prince nodded, “You would not believe but he had legs like a goat’s and two small horns over his head, he brought me apples and cherries while I hid in the forest! But then they found me!” Charlotte couldn’t believe the words of her son. Maybe the shock and fear had caught to him. She could not say. She only knew that the boy was frightened and only time would heal his wounds. She asked a squire to take the Prince to his pavilion and help him bathe, while she proceeded for the war meeting. All through the meeting she strode about around the tent as she spoke to the lord’s bannermen, still keeping her legs apart and paying no mind to her aching bladder. She needed this victory more than she needed anything else and she was going to make every effort she could for it. But during that day, many a times she heard her brother telling Lord Atwell how to place his men against the Dalton army while in battle. He told him of every move or strategy he could think of and also gave him the command of his army. "But you will be there yourself, my Lord," Lord Atwell asked. "I can give you no promise of that," Walter answered. He did not talk very much and seemed to them to be sad. Walter's mood affected everyone that evening. Lord Atwell was feeling distressed also at the idea of fighting the battle on his own; the news that Lord Walter might not be there had come as a great shock to him. Supper that evening was a quiet meal. This feeling affected Charlotte so much that she couldn't get to sleep when she went to bed. And after she had laid counting sheep and turning over and over she heard Martha give a long sigh and turn over just beside her in the darkness. "Can't you get to sleep either?" asked the Queen. “No,” said Martha. "I thought you were asleep, my Queen." "No, I couldn’t. I've a most horrible feeling - as if something were hanging over us." "Have you? Because, as a matter of fact, so have I." "Something about Walter," said Charlotte. "Either some dreadful thing is going to happen to him, or something dreadful that he's going to do." "There's been something wrong with him all afternoon," said Martha. “What was that he said about not being at the battle? You don't think he could be stealing away and leaving us tonight, do you?" "I don’t know. Where is he now?" said the Queen. "Is he here in the pavilion? I’m worried for him,” she added, "I want to see him." “My Queen, he must be asleep by now, can’t it wait till the morrow? “No, I’ve to see him right now,” Charlotte threw away her blanket, “I have a feeling that he needs me.” "All right, let's," said Martha, "....we might just as well be doing that as lying awake here." So the two women slid out of the tent and quietly made their way towards Walter’s pavilion. The moonlight was bright and everything was quite still except for the noise of the river chattering over the stones. Charlotte peeped into his tent and found he wasn’t there. "Is he here in the pavilion?" asked Martha "I don't think so." "Let’s have a look round,” Martha spoke “We might see him." And then, on the far side of the camping ground, just where the trees began, they saw her brother slowly walking away into the wood. Without a word they followed him. He led them up the steep slope out of the river valley and then slightly to the right. On and on he led them, into dark shadows and out into pale moonlight, getting their feet wet with the heavy dew. They saw that they were going up the slope of the hill on which the Stone Table stood, an ancient relic known to all the men of the realm. They heard the sounds of men talking and the two women crouched behind a thick wall of bushes. Almost a score of men stood round the Stone Table. It was a great grim slab of grey stone supported on four upright stones. It looked very old; and it was cut all over with strange lines and figures that might be the letters of an unknown language. Though the moon was shining, many of them carried torches which burned with red flames and black smoke. And right in the middle, standing by the Table, was King Reynard himself. They laughed at her brother and made japes of him. “The fool!" King Reynard said. "The fool has come. Bind him fast." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths waiting for Walter to draw his great sword and cut his enemies down. But it never happened. Four soldiers came forward to tie his hands and legs to which he made no resistance at all. Then they began to drag him towards the Stone Table. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two women could not even see him - so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of men kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him. At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag Walter to the Stone Table. “Those bastards...,” sobbed Charlotte. When once Walter had been tied on the flat stone, a silence fell on the crowd. Four men, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. Reynard Dalton pulled out his sword. The thing shone in the moonlight, white as milk. At last he drew near. He stood by Walter's head, who looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before Reynard gave the blow, he stooped down and said in a quivering voice, “Fool, did you think that by all this you would save your sister and her pup? Now I will kill you instead of the Prince as our pact. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him and his bitch mother? And who will take them out of my hand then? I have two times the men you have but this has made things really easy for me. Without a leader your army will scatter in no time. Understand that you have handed over the fate of your sister and her son into my hands, you have lost your own life and you have not saved theirs. I hope you find peace in the afterlife.” He brought down his sword to pierce right through Walter’s chest. The blood of his life ran on the stone table and he closed his eyes. Charlotte covered her face, trying to stop the images of her brother’s murder but it didn’t help. She cried without making a sound and Martha tried to hold her. CHAPTER- VII THE LAWS OF GODS AND MEN While the two women still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the King calling out, "Our work is done here. Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the whore now that her foolish brother lies dead." Charlotte and Martha held their breaths as the men walked past the bushes. They would be raped before being butchered if King Reynard got to know they hid here. Their laughs and japes echoed in Charlotte’s ears as they mounted their horses and swept off the hill-top. At any other time she would have trembled with fear; but now the sadness and shame and horror of Walter’s death so filled her mind that she hardly thought of it. As soon as the wood was silent again Charlotte and Martha crept out onto the open hill-top. The blanket of clouds hid the strokes of the moonlight, painting the night deeper and darker, but still they could see the shape of her brother’s body lying dead in his bonds. They both knelt down in the grass, before the Queen kissed his cold face and stroked his beautiful black hair; “He did this to save us...,” tears flooded her cheeks, her voice shaken. She cried and cried till she could cry no more. She looked at Martha and sobbed for she felt lonely and weak. "Help me" she said as she stood up and tried to pull out the sword that pierced her brother’s chest. They put all their strength to pull out the sword that had cut into the stone and at last it came free, her brother’s blood dripping off its edge. Charlotte tossed it aside and fondled Walter’s face. They tried to untie him but the cords were drawn so tight that they could do nothing of the knots. A certain quiet surrounded them. Charlotte felt as if nothing was going to happen ever again. Hours and hours went by in the dead calm, and they hardly noticed that they were getting colder and colder. Though Martha noticed the sky on the east side of the hill was a little less dark than it had been an hour ago. Then Charlotte in a fit of broken despair tried to untie her brother for one last time, and this time she succeeded. The sky in the east was whitish by now and the stars were getting fainter - all except one very big one low down on the eastern horizon. They felt colder than they had been all night. Every moment Walter’s dead face looked nobler, as the light grew and they could see it better. In the wood behind them a bird gave a chuckling sound. It had been so still for hours and hours that it startled them. Then another bird answered it. Soon there were birds singing all over the place. It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night. Martha rubbed arms to fight the cold as she looked on in despair at the broken Queen. The rising of the sun had made everything look so different - all colours and shadows were changed that. Charlotte held her brother in a tight embrace. Lost. All was lost. Her brother was gone. Her tears knew no end and her breathes were broken still. Defeat was absolute. “The Laws of the God...,” there came a voice from among the trees that startled both the women to the toes. “Who’s there?” Charlotte went wide eyed, horror creeping under her skin. Martha took a step back, sweat beading down her forehead. And then a very strange person stepped out of the trees, into the light. He might have been as tall as Iwan. From the waist upwards he was like a man, but his legs were shaped like a goat's, the hair on them was glossy brown and instead of feet he had goat's hoofs and his skin was rather reddish too. He had a strange, but pleasant little face, with a short pointed beard and curly hair, and out of the hair there stuck two horns, one on each side of his forehead. Charlotte and Martha couldn’t believe their eyes. A faun stood before them, a being of whom they had heard of only in fables. For a moment Charlotte thought she was dreaming but then the sight of her brother’s corpse stabbed her. “My Queen, I’m Tirius, a friend to Prince Iwan,” he bowed before her. The two of them didn’t know what to say. Fear stopped the words in their throats and left them shaking. Iwan was right, the person he had been describing was true after all. “The Laws of God, my lady, are strange but just. They say, only he can govern what is true and what is false. Only he holds the right to give life and to take it back,” he walked towards them, “....but he is not the only one who can give life. A mother can give life as well.” Charlotte looked at him with tear filled eyes. She couldn’t understand what he was saying and she didn’t know what to say. “The Stone Table was built thousands of years ago, on the command of the almighty, to serve as a symbol of justice and only the King could serve this justice,” he looked at Walter’s face, which seemed to be at peace, “The King is next to the God and his word is absolute. But if the Lord almighty gave the King the power to take life, he gave the Queen Mother the power to give life as well.” His words struck a string of hope within her. Suddenly her heart started to beat faster. “The Stone Table does not agree to the blood of an innocent,” Tirius told them, “If someone, for no fault of his is executed on the Table, then he can be brought back to life, but only by the Queen Mother.” “How?” she asked, her voice shaken, “It is not possible...,” “But it is...,” Tirius said, “It could be...it all depends upon the faith.” She looked at him, then at her brother and then at Martha. Wrecked by grief she stood up and placed her hands on the chest of her brother’s corpse, and though she didn’t believe the faun, the words came to her mouth, “My Lord, the creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you, shed your mercy upon us.....,” Her words sounded hollow to her ears, her hands touching her mistrust. She tried and tried but her brother’s breathes did not return. She sighed, broken in spirit. Her eyes closed in defeat. Tears flowing down her face. She looked at him, hoping he would move, hoping he would speak but his soul was gone. Gone far away. Her hands shook. She had lost. She looked at Martha, who stood still, not uttering a word. Charlotte turned and walked, to where she did not know. “My Lady there is one more way....,” Tirius spoke suddenly. She stopped on her track, then started walking again. “My Queen, without Lord Walter this war is lost,” Martha’s voice sounded in her ears, “Only he could have guided your men to victory.” Charlotte knew that was the truth but could she believe the faun’s words? “My Lady, inside the Castle of Light and Dark lays a hidden chamber. And inside that chamber is a tabernacle which holds a chalice of gold. The chalice that contains the God’s wine.” He stopped to catch his breath. “It is said that one can ask of anything from the Lord almighty if he succeeds to drink from the chalice and his wish shall be granted. But to get to the chalice is not easy....,” Tirius said, “It is said that magic guards the walls of the Castle of Light and Dark and to get past it is no feat for the faint of heart....,” The Castle of Light and Dark? She had never heard of it before. Was the faun lying? But what if it was the truth? Maybe it was her only chance to get her brother back. “How far is the castle from here?” “A day’s ride north,” Tirius replied, “...but my lady I must warn you, this may cost you your life...,” “If this is the way to bring my brother back, then I must do it....,” Charlotte spoke, “No matter what the cost....,” CHAPTER- VIII THE CASTLE OF LIGHT AND DARK Amongst the dense forest of larch and pine, Charlotte found the castle of Light and Dark. What she had presumed to be a magnificent stronghold was just a grey and ancient ruin, protected by the woods. She stood there with a hand on her aching bladder, her thighs pressed together. Studying the fortress and guessing what it held inside. The pressure inside her bladder had grown to the highest degree. The waterskin she had carried with her on the journey had been emptied and refilled over a dozen times since she had left Martha and her brother back at the camp yesterday and yet her bladder was unrelieved, still holding ten days worth of urine. But Queen Charlotte was confident. She knew her bladder would never crack or give way to any amount of pressure. But what if it became her undoing inside the Castle of Light and Dark? “My Queen,” Tirius said, “I want you to think this through one last time...” “There is nothing to think about,” Charlotte spoke, her eyes stuck on the castle, “I have no other way,” she sighed. “It is said that many go into The Castle of Light and Dark, but few come out,” he told, “If you have decided to follow your heart, then take me inside with you. I’ve heard many tales of the place, maybe they will come of help.” “No,” she breathed, “Some places even the Queen must walk alone.” This frightened the faun, “My Queen, you must remember, the front way leads in, but never out again. Heed my words, The Castle of Light and Dark was not made for mortal men. If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you.” “I will do as you say,” Charlotte promised. “When you enter, you will find yourself in a room with four doors: the one you have come through and three others. Take the door to your left. Each time, the door to your left. If you should come upon a stairwell, climb. Never go down, and never take any door but the first door to your left.” “The door to my left,” Charlotte repeated. “I understand. And when I leave, the opposite?” “No,” Tirius said. “Leaving and coming, it is the same. Always up. Always the door to your left.” “I understand.” She sighed and as the Queen walked towards the huge wooden door, it opened itself to let her in. She turned to look at the faun for one last time and then entered the castle. The door slowly closed behind her back. She found herself in a stone anteroom with four doors, one on each wall. With some hesitation, she went to the door on her left and stepped through. The second room was a twin to the first. Again she turned to the left-hand door. When she pushed it open she faced yet another small antechamber with four doors. I am in the presence of sorcery. She felt shaken but never did she let her fear overcome her. She took the door to the left once more and found herself in a long hall. The long hall went on and on and on, with torches burning on the walls. She walked past more doors than she could count, closed doors and open ones, doors of wood and doors of iron, carved doors and plain ones, doors with pulls and doors with locks and doors with knockers. Finally a great pair of bronze doors appeared to her left, grander than the rest. They swung open as she neared, and as she entered it, Queen Charlotte saw the thing for which she was not prepared. A gigantic dragon, bound by chains lay before her, guarding the doors behind it. Even the darkness had not dimmed the beauty of its scales that shone a shade of dark green in the light that danced upon the torches. For a moment, it took her breath away. Dragon? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen one in her entire life and now, one was right before her! That’s an Asgarothian Ironbelly! She realized. She had read about dragons in the books kept in the capital’s great library and knew they had all died out centuries ago. It was a miracle to find one alive. Her amazement was short lived though as then the being sensed her. It turned its ugly head towards the Queen and roared with a noise that made the rocks tremble and then, it opened its mouth to spew a jet of fire that sent Charlotte running back. She held her bladder as she leaned back on the wall, her organ unprepared for this kind of rapid movement. The Queen went back in again, peeping at first. She could make that the creature was partially blind but only more savage for that. It looked at her fierce but then suddenly the dragon began to shift backward, as if it was scared of her. Charlotte couldn’t understand what was going on but she knew this was her only chance. The Queen slowly walked towards the wooden door behind the dragon and placed her hand on it. The door opened and she found herself in a room that was crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures— some with long spines, others with drooping wings — potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown. There at the end of the room, she saw the tabernacle. She hurried towards it and opened it to find a chalice full of red wine like the faun had told her. Charlotte raised it to her lips. The first sip tasted sour, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and blood. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the chalice was empty. She closed her eyes and prayed, “O’Lord almighty, creator of heaven and earth, I pray to you to show your mercy upon me and send my brother back to me....,” she couldn’t control her tears any longer. Then all of a sudden the ground beneath her started to shake and the pillars that held the roof started to crumble. Horror gripped Charlotte tighter than ever. “Oh no!” she wailed. Huge boulders fell down as the roof began to collapse. The castle was coming down. Maybe it was the effect of her drinking from the chalice, she did not know. All she knew was that she needed to escape or she’d be crushed to death. She rushed towards the door as fast her swollen bladder would allow. The bound dragon let out a roar but its posture still seemed submissive, as if it was afraid. Then something happened, something clicked inside her and inspiration or madness came to Charlotte. She rushed towards the dragon and climbed atop the creature, which strangely showed no resistance. “Go! Go! Go!” she commanded and go it went! Charlotte had to put all her strength into her pee hole to keep it shut but she had other things to worry about now. The cuffs broke open with loud bangs. The dragon’s scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel her. Then the creature became aware that it was unbound. With a roar it reared: Charlotte dug in her knees, clutching as tightly as she could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the pillars aside like skittles. Charlotte, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the castle continued to fall around her. By sheer force the dragon clawed and fought its way through, a massive rock hitting its head, though it wasn’t enough to stop it. Charlotte’s eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crashing of rocks and the dragon’s roars, she could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment. And then at last, as the result of the dragon’s brute strength, the remaining roof over its head fell apart. Finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell around itself, the dragon climbed atop the rubble of the falling castle with Charlotte still clinging to its back. And then after a bit of struggle, it launched itself into the sky. The Queen was crazed with fear. What if she fell off?! She looked down and saw the Castle of Light and Dark, only the way she had found it before. Unharmed, unbroken. CHAPTER – IX THE BATTLE FOR GODSWICK Swords grazed the flesh off men and horses alike. Screams and shrieks filled the cold air and rivulets of blood ran through the field of battle. Murder was never a sight so common. Lord Victor Atwell could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick. He saw Sir John impaled on a spear and watched Lord Borbon’s horse shatter a man’s ribs with a kick. A flight of arrows descended on them; where they came from he could not say, but they fell on Torrington and Dalton alike, rattling off armour or finding flesh. Lord Victor lifted his shield and hid beneath it. One by one, his men were falling. The chance of victory slipping from their hands. With Lord Walter dead, there was no chance of defeating Reynard Dalton on the field. He should have known that. Lord Victor saw his son take an arrow to his eye before he fell to the ground, dead. Men stepped on his corpse. He screamed with grief and pain, louder than he had ever screamed but the sounds of the battle muffled his voice. He ran and took the motionless body of his son in his hands and rested his head on his lap before he pulled the arrow out of his skull. Tears found their way to Victor’s blood soaked cheeks, his hands shivering and his lips trembling. His wails were loud, heavy with sorrow but unknown to the ones around him. Then he stood up, swaying his sword, in anger, in pain, in defeat. But all was lost. Someone struck him from behind and his body surrendered itself to the mud. He didn’t want to get back up. All was lost. But then he heard something that left him numb, “Lord Walter is here!” A huge roar of approval went up as men pointed their swords and spears towards the sky in joy! And then he saw him. Atop his white stallion, the Lord of Longford pierced through the enemy. He saw Lord Walter catch an arrow mid air just when it was about to core his eye. What a magnificent warrior! Walter Torrington tossed it aside and jumped off his horse, piercing his sword into an enemy as he landed. Victor could not believe his eyes. A night ago he had wept over his Lord’s corpse that lied cold in his coffin and now he stood before him. Just then the knight who had hit him came thundering down on Victor, swaying his axe. He hit Victor’s helm with the side of his weapon. His head exploded with pain, his skull suddenly heavier than a boulder. Victor’s sword fell. He clawed on the ground for anything he could get his hands on, but the knight hit the side of his axe on Victor’s face once more and he fell down again. He did not recall hitting the ground, but when he looked up there was only sky above him. He rolled onto his side and tried to find his feet, but pain shuddered through him and the world throbbed. The knight drew up above him. "Lord Victor," he boomed down. "You are mine. Do you yield?" Yes, he thought, but the word caught in his throat. He made a croaking sound and fought his way to his knees, fumbling for a weapon. His sword, his dirk, anything . . . "Do you yield?" The knight loomed overhead. He seemed immense. The axe in his hand a raw piece of steel. Victor's hands were numb, his vision blurred, his scabbard empty. "Yield or die," the knight declared. “Fuck you, pig,” Lord Atwell mouthed and in an instant his head was gone. Lord Walter stood on the other side of the field. The battle seemed to have moved beyond him. No one remained on his part of the field save a large number of corpses. Ravens were already circling and landing to feed. The sound of hooves coming up behind him made him whirl, and he saw King Reynard’s reserve come sweeping along. Walter watched as the remnants of his lines got shattered like glass beneath the hammer of the Dalton charge. He had lost the battle. Then the enemies turned towards him. His eyes met theirs’. Suddenly Lord Walter felt as if the world had stopped moving and then he heard the word, “Charge!” Thousands of mounted men were coming towards him. To kill him. To rip him apart. He readied himself, tightening the grip on his great sword. He could feel the earth shuddering beneath his feet, sweat running through his brow, eyes pierced at the sea of warriors that was charging towards him. This was it. He had failed his sister. He had failed his men. This was his end. He closed his eyes and remembered his father, his late mother and his sisters. But then, a sound of thunderous roar filled the skies. Every eye on the battle field looked up and there it was. A dragon. King Reynard watched open mouthed as the great being flapped its gigantic wings. And then he saw her. Sitting atop the dragon’s back. The Queen. In the blink of an eye the dragon came sweeping down to rain fire on his men. Shrieks of horror went up in the skies as an inferno engulfed them. Many ran to save their lives, many got cooked. The dry grasses and stands of wheat went up at once. The wind fanned the flames and blew the smoke into the face of the King. The scent of fire sent the horses into panic, and as the smoke thickened, horse and rider alike were blinded. Their ranks began to break as walls of fire rose on every side of them. The remaining of the Torrington men waited with their bows and spears and made short work of the burned and burning Dalton men who came staggering from the hellhole. More than twenty thousand men died in the flames and what remained of King Reynard’s men perished from swords and spears and arrows. The beaten King looked on as the battle slipped from his hands. All was lost. He began to flee but found someone standing before him. A ghost of his past. A man he had killed. “I hope you find peace in the afterlife,” Lord Walter said before putting his sword through Reynard’s belly. Blood sprouted from his mouth before he fell to the ground. Dead. The echoes of, “Long live the Queen!” and “Long may she reign!” filled the air. A smile ran across Walter’s face. The war was over. They had won. CHAPTER– X THE END The night that followed was that of celebration. Lord Walter held a small feast to mark their victory and everyone drank to the health of the Queen. Charlotte herself drank a large amount of beer on the insistence of the Lords and knights present, though she had not wanted to. She had not made water in days, and the last thing she wanted was more liquid getting pumped inside her tired bladder, but she very well could not refuse the men who had fought for her. As the night darkened and the Queen went to her bed, sleep evaded her. She was beginning to grow less and less confident in her ability to hold her piss and was clenching her muscles as tight as she could, her calmness slowly slipping away. The pressure was getting to her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her bladder filled considerably during the night and by the time it was morning, Queen Charlotte was feeling a fairly intense urge to piss. She knew there was no room left for her bladder to expand and she had little will power to continue her hold. But regardless, she got up and dressed herself. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode but the Queen withheld her pressure and waited calmly until it was time for her to leave for the capital. She was dying to get to the castle, rush to the privy and take the piss of her life. She just wanted to let it all out. Hold on, you can hold on, she told herself. Waves of urgency came upon her again and again as her bladder attempted to release its contents to save itself from bursting apart but the Queen held on, endlessly. Her composure unshaken. But inside her chest, her heart beat faster than ever, her head heavier than a boulder. She realized she wasn’t able to think straight, did she really needed to pee that much? It did not matter. She would hold it till she reached inside the walls of the King’s Fort. Inside her chamber. Inside her privy. Only then would she relieve herself. She thanked all the Lords for their support in the war and kissed her brother’s brow before climbing atop her horse, barely controlling her immense need to piss. They all waved at her, Walter, Gunther, Martha and the rest, and she waved back, and so did her son who rode right beside her. Surrounded by a dozen guards, they went on their way as the others looked on. As they rode on into the dusk, Charlotte found herself grabbing her crotch whenever she was sure no one was looking. She could not believe the pressure, it was more than she’d felt ever before. She had never wanted to wee this badly in all her life, yet she was determined not to let it show to the men who rode with her and especially not to her son. She reminded herself that she did not need to worry; her bladder was cast-iron, strong and unbreakable. But then why did she feel so worried? She realized she did not want to think about it. They’d get to the capital tomorrow anyway, until then she’d just not think about it. She just pressed her crotch on the saddle of her horse and rode on. After another hour of riding, they spotted a watchtower. It meant they were on the border of her father’s lands and the royal grounds started from here on out. As they got closer to the tower, Charlotte spotted three armoured men on horsebacks. One carrying a banner with the rampant Griffin of House Seymour on it, the sigil of her late husband’s house and now hers. The three men rode towards them, grasping swords and shields. “It’s an honour to have you here, my Queen and my Prince,” one of them said, “I would like to congratulate you on your victory.” “Many thanks to you, my friend,” Queen Charlotte said forcing a smile. Her bladder was absolutely bursting by this point, her desperation growing by the minute. She realized her hands were shaking. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she was growing restless and panic was starting to crawl up her chest. Was this because she had to urinate? No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t be. She was the Queen. She could hold on as long as she wanted to. Then why was she sweating? Why was she afraid of losing control? Why? Why? Then, it suddenly hit her, I cannot hold it. M-my bladder is going to explode! I have to piss....i-it’s going to come out! I need to find somewhere to go! I have to piss! Oh my god, I have to piss! Her body was trembling, but she couldn’t let it show to everyone. Hide it, hide it! She screamed within. Holding the reins tighter in her trembling hands. “My Queen, we’d be honoured to have you as our guest at the tower, to share our meat and mead and our roof for the night,” Oliver, one of the men said. Albert, the captain of the Queen’s escort replied, “I thank you for the offer, but we must continue on our way to the capital.” “Wait,” Charlotte said suddenly. “I think we will accept your offer of hospitality. I am sure my guards are hungry, and my back is sore from riding. If you could give me a private room with a bed in which I could rest till the morrow, I would be very grateful to you.” “My Queen,” Albert whispered quickly. “... the capital is just a few hours away, we’ll reach home if we cont--” “I have given my command,” Charlotte said sternly, although on the inside she was frantic. She’d already waited past the breaking point. She knew she didn’t have much time left. “We’ll rest here for the night,” she finished much more politely, turning back to Oliver. “Of course, my Queen,” Oliver said with a bow. “I thank you. With haste, then,” Charlotte said loudly over the whispered protests of her guards. She ignored them completely as she reined her horse to follow Oliver towards the tower. It was a short ride, and soon they were dismounting and making their way into the tower. Oh, she couldn’t wait to piss! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! She screamed internally at Oliver, who was leading them inside. Charlotte walked into the lobby, her bladder ready to crack, “My room?” she asked straight away. “My Queen, would you like some wine before your rest?” he asked. “N-no, not at all,” Charlotte held her brow, squeezing her thighs as tightly together as she could, “Just show me to my room, please....” “Of course,” Oliver replied. “If you would follow me.” Charlotte turned to step after him, and he led her to the base of the tower's staircase. She trembled at the thought of climbing up stairs when she was just moments away from losing complete control of her bladder. Nor did she have the energy neither the time to fight off her need anymore. Still, there was no escaping it. She lifted her right leg and took the first step of the tall tower, then another with her left. Every time she raised a leg, her thigh pressed into the bottom of her bladder, causing it to send out a pulse of pain and pressure that rippled through her body. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, and she pressed her thighs together, her hands gripped in tight fists, nails digging into her pale skin. Charlotte gasped in pain, audibly but quietly, and her bladder throbbed strongly. Then, suddenly, without her consent, her pole opened for a full second and a long, hot leak escaped into her smallclothes. She froze in panic and quickly stood straight, clenching her muscles, stopping herself from wetting her dress any further. Looking down in horror and shame, she saw the wet spot on her dress, now dark green from the sudden spurt of her warm urine. Fuck, this is so embarrassing! Despite her humiliation, she continued to climb the stairs, grabbing her crotch as tightly as she could. Finally she came to a thick wooden door at the fifth floor, and she grasped the handle, stumbled inside and yelled, “Thank you so much!” to Oliver before banging the door shut at his face! She dashed straight towards the window, lifting up her dress and tearing down her small clothes as she did so. Stricken with panic, she threw her bottom over the edge of the window and at that very moment, the flood inside her erupted completely. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooohhhhhhhh mmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy ggggoooooddddd!!!” Queen Charlotte threw her head up as her eyes closed themselves tight with the immense relief that flowed through her exhausted body. Her toes curled in response of the enormous release. So much pressure... for so long... “Oooooohhhh tthhhaaannnnkkk ggggoooddd!!!” she groaned, the relief rendering her unable to open her eyes. Her whole body shivered with respite as the endless flow of piss streamed out of her. Her brain felt numb. It felt so good to finally release it! Her bladder was stretched to the bursting point. How she had managed to hold it this long she’d never know. She could feel the stream carry her stress out with it. Oh, how long had she waited for this! This glorious feeling of relief. Another heartfelt groan of relief escaped her throat as she let out her long held waters. Oh, how much her bladder had ached! The feeling of bliss as she finally felt her organ shrink was beyond what words could describe, it was pure ecstasy. The tower had come as a blessing in her time of desperate need. There was no way she could have held it all the way to the capital with her bladder that full. But now it was over. She did not have to worry anymore. She was saved. “Phew!” she breathed as she felt the heavy stream run out of her, I really needed that. The relief was so overpowering that she felt light headed. It felt so good! But this private moment of her release was interrupted when a fat man suddenly burst into her room! “My Queen!” the man said with a big smile on his face, “Am I disturbing you?” Charlotte’s eyes widened in shock and humiliation and with the fear of being found out! She didn’t know what to do or what to say! She froze where she was, not moving an inch as her piss continued to flow out of her. “Oh, Your Highness! You mustn’t sit on the window like that!” he yelped, “You might fall off!” The man she recalled as Lord Peter Walden. Many years ago she had granted him the custody of this watchtower for his dedicated service to the throne. Now he was standing before her, about to find out that she was weeing out of the window of his tower. Get lost! Get out, you idiot! She screamed within. “M-my Lord, I-I assure you that I’m safe,” she said, trying her best to cut off her flow but her sphincters were too worn out, “T-to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” “I am most grateful to you my Queen for the generosity you’ve shown us by being our guest for the night,” he said, “I hope you find your stay comfortable.” Yes! Please get out of the room! Get out! Now! “T-thank you, M’lord, that is so kind of you,” she forced a smile that told she wanted to kill him, “Is that all? You may leave now.” She was trying her best to stop the flood that was pouring out of her, all while keeping a straight face but it was out of her control now. There was no stopping it. “Oh, my Queen, I must say we’ve never had a ruler more generous and kind than Your Highness,” he went to sit on her bed, much to Charlotte’s horror, “My Queen is the fairest of all!” he laughed. Queen Charlotte felt like she’d rip him apart, but she was stuck on the window, her river of wee going on and on and on. Then finally he stood up, “Well, my Queen, I beg for your leave now. I’d look forward to seeing you at the feast,” he bowed and left with a smile, closing the door behind him. Charlotte let out a breath of relief. Lord Peter was an old man. She hoped he wouldn’t have noticed what she was doing. Her piss continued unabated for a few more minutes before she found the strength to cut off the flow and quickly climb off the window. She had botched her family name and her title of the Queen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She still had to pee a lot but her bladder was now empty more than half, which meant she had let the pressure off enough to be able to ride home. She looked out of the window as she adjusted her smallclothes and found that the wall was drenched and at the ground a massive puddle sat as if made by an elephant. A small pond of warm piss. I shouldn’t have relieved myself like that. She felt a sense of guilt overcome her but she tried to suppress it. She quickly adjusted back her dress and went down for the feast. That whole night, the Queen didn’t even look at Lord Peter out of embarrassment, but the old man seemed normal to her, as if nothing had happened. Maybe he had not found out what she was doing back in the room. She thanked the God and participated in the feast with utmost graciousness. During the entire feast, Charlotte didn’t take any wine or beer but only stuck to timely sips of water. Her bladder was completely exhausted and the last thing she wanted was more liquid making its way into it. They left for the capital early on the morrow and after a few hours ride, they saw the massive walls of Godswick at a distance. People praised her name as she rode through the city streets and children ran behind her contingent. But Charlotte cared for none of it. Her desperation had grown since they had left the tower and the Queen once again found herself on the edge of losing control. She had to get to the castle, and fast. She found a small welcoming party along with the members of the royal council waiting for her at the foot of the King’s Fort, but she dismounted and walked past them, steeling herself from grabbing her crotch in full view of her people and leaving her son behind in her frantic run to reach the privy. My room. The privy. Have to go so badly, it all took over her mind as she stepped into the great hall of her castle, ignoring the guards. She slowly climbed the stairs that led to her chamber, stopping her piss at the gates. Her breathing was heavy and her bladder completely exhausted. Hurry, hurry, hurry! She told herself. It’s going to come out! She grabbed her crotch as tightly as she could. She would never know how she had managed to put off her need to wee for so long. Somehow she reached the top of the stairs, and she turned towards her chamber. Squeezing her crotch with her trembling hand as she held her breath tight. She screamed out loud as her bladder pulsated madly within her. She needed to piss so badly! And the pressure was increasing rapidly. Her pee was just a hair breadth away from completely pouring out of her and her chamber still seemed so far. Then suddenly a long jet of her hot wee escaped out of her and she stopped in her track, her eyes widened in fear. There was nothing more she could do. I got so close...just a few more- There was no stopping it anymore. Her piss exploded in a thick stream as relief washed over her body. The Queen was wetting herself. She tried her hardest to stop the flow but failed. She looked on in disbelief at the puddle of hot piss as it grew beneath her, her eyes still wide with fear and humiliation. “Stop! Please stop!” she sighed her hands holding her face on the sides. Her body was beaten. It could have not taken the pressure any more. My God, why did you let this happen to me?! Shame crawled up her skin. What if someone saw her like this? Wetting herself in the hallway. She could not let that happen. No. She’d be humiliated for the rest of her life. She needed to move from here, but her body was frozen. She could not move. Her legs trembling as the amazing relief flowed through her. “My Queen?” Charlotte’s heart practically stopped. She looked up, eyes wide. Her handmaidens Lucille and Mary stood before her, looking on with disbelief. The Queen was wetting herself. This was a sight they shouldn’t have witnessed. The Queen’s embarrassment flowed from under her dress like a river, soaking into the carpet and spreading out in every direction. Her body was fatigued and she was completely defeated, humiliated in front of her servants, everything she thought of herself as a Queen flowing out of her, dampening the bottom of her skirt. It just went on and on, a seemingly endless stream of hot piss that nearly reached Lucille and Mary who were standing several meters away. Despite the absorption of the carpet, the puddle reached the ledge of the second floor of the entrance hall and fell to the marble below. Charlotte could hear it splattering against stone even at this distance, and she knew there was absolutely no hiding such an accident. Even if she banished Lucille and Mary from the Capital, people would come into the hall at some point and see the mess coming from her wing of the castle. I'm going to have to run. Just shift to some other country and make a living as a cook. What if Iwan finds out about this? Oh, no! Not him! It was several minutes before her waterfall fell silent. Her puddle was almost ten feet in span and the only sound that could be heard was of her pee falling to the floor below. Her two servants still stood by, watching her in disbelief. She wished they would look away, but it made no difference now. Her body and mind fatigued, she looked at the two young girls. “So, what is going to happen now?” Charlotte asked them, a semblance of hurt and humiliation in her voice. “Are you going to run and tell everyone what I have done here? This is a good chance for you to have your vengeance for how poorly I’ve treated you all, isn’t it?” The two of them looked between Charlotte and her colossal puddle. They knew if the word of this got out, the Queen would have to face an embarrassment like no other. Mustering her voice, Mary spoke first. “It was me who did this. I lost control of my waters. Please, forgive me.” Charlotte sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time in what felt like days. “Oh, my sweet girl, that is so kind of you....,” she breathed. “However, nobody will believe that a tiny one like you could hold this much piss. I fear there is no possible way for me out of this.” “I couldn't hold it either,” Lucille said suddenly, “We were so occupied in preparing for your welcome since morning, that we didn’t get a chance to use the chamberpot. We beg for your pardon, Your Highness...,” At this very moment, Charlotte loved these girls like they were her own daughters. “You would take the blame for this, after how I have abused you over the years?” “We owe you everything we have, my Queen,” Lucille said, “We were born to serve you.” “I will never forget this,” Charlotte said, “You two will be rewarded with whatever you want for this.” “Please, my Queen,” Lucille said. “Just see yourself to your chamber to wash.” Charlotte nodded, her heart full of gratitude, before she rushed towards her chamber. The End
  24. Here is the original summary: A sortcore furry novella showing two sexually inexperienced young adults and their interactions as they learn about each other as friends, objects of desire, and lovers, through the exploration of their beliefs and their bodies. I have this uploaded on a couple of furry sites, but I figured it would be appropriate here as well considering that it is omorashi oriented. This is maybe a year or so old, so the content of the writing is fairly embarrassing, but somebody asked me to continue an older, similar story to this called Ally, so I decided to upload this instead. If you're interested in other furry omorashi stories--all of which are more recent and higher quality in terms of prose than this--please check the links in my profile that lead to my inkbunny and furaffinity accounts. I will upload another chapter every few days, but all that is currently written for this is currently uploaded to my inkbunny and fa accounts. I will start with the first two chapters, since the omorashi does not begin until chapter two. Chapter One: "God... that feels amazing." "It really does. Shame everyday can't be like this." The wind smelled of pine and the beams of sunlight peaking through the leaves of the Tree helped off-set the cool weather. Each gust of wind caused an uproar, rattling the head of the Tree, and blowing leaves all about the woods to the west. Xavier's hand lingered to his side, plucking blades of grass from their roosts. He twiddled his fingers together, crushing each blade into a tight ball, and tossing it to the nether. Next to him was a beautiful woman -- though he did not dare put his hands on her. It wasn't as if he didn't crave. Grass was the last thing he wanted to feel between his fingers, but his hands remained between their hips, as he was not willing to risk something so special over greed and lust. All he needed was patience. She had become increasingly comfortable with him as their relationship developed, and he could tell that she wanted it too. "Have you ever traveled?" He looked over at her in response. "Wait..." She looked at him and squinted. "Have I asked you that before?" He chuckled. "I don't think so, but you might of. I could have forgotten... And to answer your question, I haven't. Well, unless you count here." "Oh yeeeaaaah, you came down here from up north..." She looked back up at the sky. "You must be liking the weather even more than me." "Oh, you can't even imagine." "Not a fan of the cold?" "I don't really think anybody is when you lived somewhere as cold I did... I am sure it is a lot nicer down here, though." She looked at him with a look of excitement. "Our winters are great. I mean, you get your cold days, like, the kinds of days that you might even put on a jacket for, but honestly, it is just really nice most of the time. If anything, it gets too hot..." "I've heard bad things about the summers." "Ugh! The summers are terrible! When he looked over, she was again looking at the sky. Reflexively, his eyes shot down her body, admiring it. He couldn't believe someone so real and down to earth could have a body like hers; like something out of a fantasy. His hand clutched the ground as he also turned to face the clouds. In his peripheries, he saw her look over at him. She examined him for only a few moments before looking back toward the clouds as well. Xavier forced his mind back into focus. "And what about you? Have you ever traveled." He turned to face her, this time stealing a glance of her body before looking to her face, in a means so rapid and inconspicuous it startled even him. "Wait.... Have I asked you that before" She giggled. "No, I've never been anywhere other than here. I've been to the city before, but as you've seen, there isn't much going on there." "Never seen any... skyscrapers, or anything like that?" "Nope. Nothing even close. Unless you count movies and the internet and stuff. Biggest building I ever saw was for some bank building when we went to the city. Or maybe one of the hotels.... Either way, they were big, but they weren't really all that big." "No, I know what you mean. I've never really seen anything that big myself." "Even in the city?" "Nah, our city didn't really have anything that impressive. I saw some decently large ones like you described pretty often, but they tend to... lose their oomf I guess." "Did you ever stay in any of them? The hotels?" "Have I ever stayed in a hotel?" "You know! The big ones." "Yes, I've stayed in big hotels." "And was it on the higher floors?" "That... I can't really remember. I was pretty young." "... You answered my question like you had." She responded with mild annoyance. "I answered the question that you asked. Nothing more. Nothing less." He smiled. "Hmf." "... And what about you?" "What about me? Have I ever stayed in a big hotel? You should know I haven't." "I should?" "Yes. Why would ever have a reason to stay in a big hotel if I've never left the state?" "I... suppose that is true." He squinted. "But its a little presumptuous." "I disagree. Sometimes people should be presumptuous." "... But then how do you disagree? You just said it is presumptuous." "That wasn't my point. I was just saying that... presuming would have made more sense than what you did." "What I did?" "Yes, you took the easy way out. You could have assumed that I have never stayed in a hotel, it would have been perfectly reasonable." "And was what I said not reasonable?" "No, just spineless.". "Well..." There was silence following his verbal defeat. With anyone else, it would have been awkward, but with Erin there was a sense of mutual recognition, and they accepted it wordlessly. Each moment spent together was better than if it had been spent apart, and this was the only truth they needed to undo any degree of awkwardness that might linger. They remained silent for a number of minutes. Xavier's focus shifted back to the atmosphere surrounding them. There wasn't anywhere he would have rather been. "Xavier...?" A rare tone for her: inquisitive but cautious. "Yeah?" She paused for a few moments before speaking: "Have you...?" Her voice quickly trailed off. "... Have I what?" "No... it's nothing." "Nothing...? Are you sure? Because now you have me curious." "It isn't important." "Isn't important implies it is still a thing... You can't just leave me hanging. Come oooon." She paused for a moment, before swallowing and looking over at Xavier. "Have you ever touched, like... a breast?" She bobbed her chin downward, as if she were motioning toward her own. "Uh," he chuckled, "what?" "Yeah, yeah, it was nothing." "Oh. Oh, no. It was definitely something. It was extremely something." "It really wasn't." They were both silent. Xavier did not feel uncomfortable, but he could not confidently say for Erin; though his continuous staring at her made it abundantly clear the topic had not been dropped. He sighed. "Honestly? No. I am embarrassed to admit that, but no, I've never touched... a breast." "Oh." She had an uncharacteristic lack of emotion in her voice. "That's good." "... That's good? Why is that good?" She blushed. "Am I supposed to want you to have touched breasts?" "I honestly didn't think you'd care." He laughed. She didn't respond for several moments. Xavier worried he had offended her, but couldn't get an accurate read on her expression. "Do you wanna touch mine-?" "-Yeah, that would be awesome." She looked at him, blushing harder, looking violated as she crossed her arms over her chest. "God, you didn't have to reply so quick." He chuckled. "Sorry." "It is like you knew what I was going to say..." "I guess my mind just kinda honed in... Can you blame me?" Their was a brief silence as the stealth compliment registered in her brain. He waited for her to follow up, worrying she would change her mind and retract the offer. But staring into the amorphous patterns of white and crimson that covered her black fur left him feeling hopeful and even confident. She uncrossed her arms and adjusted herself, sighing as her face became emotionless. "Okay, I am ready." "So, I can touch them?" She licked her bottom lip nervously. "Yeah." He swallowed heavily, hoping she did not overhear it. His hand balled into a fist as he wondered how he should do it. Was he to do it quickly? And in that display his politeness and restraint? Or would that in fact insist a lack of passion, and peg him as the unromantic type? Would he do it slowly, and savor the experience? Or would this land him a spot in her mind as lewd and disconcerting? Could he just ask her? Why did such a question feel taboo in the first place? How did such a pleasurable moment become a test of this personality? ...Or was it intended to be that? He silenced his thoughts, knowing they had become presumptuous and absurd. There was only one answer to his question and it wasn't in his thoughts, but in his body. He lifted his hand, heart about to burst from his chest, and he placed it gently on her breast, taking note of the surprising softness of the fur in that area. Her eyes closed, and when he pressed down, she pushed back with her chest. He lightly squeezed, and she moaned to herself, quickly captivated by the moment. Xavier figured they were no bigger than b-cups, but they matched her shape well. She had a fairly average build, but slightly bottom heavy, with hips and thighs that were large enough to stand out in intimate settings, but conservative enough to go unnoticed in casual ones. He squeezed again and let his hand linger for several more moments before begrudgingly pulling away. When he removed his hand her eyes opened, and through a mask of red, she glanced at him, before quickly looking away. It was a candid moment for her, and with her permission, he had not only the right to observe it, but the pleasure of causing it. It was apparent through his experience that the social test he perceived was not for him, but for them, and the pressure had been equal for them both. "Well?" She asked, seeming offended. "It was amazing." "... Good." "It seemed like you enjoyed it too." "Well..." He took solace in his verbal victory, having equaled the score. But of even bigger concern was the question of what to do next-- a question that, strangely enough, had only just then occurred to him. Was he to pursue the obvious romantic que which had been dropped, or play the cool route and let things happen as they would? And then, as if his current conundrum wasn't complex enough, there was the unspoken reaction of the heterosexual male in hand-to-breast situations. He was afraid to look down, feeling the tension quickly growing in his lower body --much to his dismay. She was not going to be the only one put in a directly vulnerable position that day, and no matter how he tried to relax himself, he knew once the process had begun, there was no stopping it. Surely, she would notice it, and then what? Would she comment on it? Would she be pleased by the sight? Disturbed? Surprised? Or even stranger, expectant... Then again, maybe expecting it was the most normal thing a person could do. He pondered this, trying to think of way to avoid the awkward situation that was awaiting him when she inevitably noticed the extra half foot protruding from his body. It was then he was struck with an epiphany, something that felt both comfortable and progressive, without being cliched -- but bold and not without its risks. He swallowed, knowing the next few moments, regardless of what he did, would be emotionally stressful; though in their stress he found a taste of something potent and enslaving, and so he took deep pleasure in this state, finding its rawness appealing. "Hey, Erin." She looked over at him curiously, with a glassy expression that was reflective, honest, and above all, fragile. "Have you ever kissed a guy?" Her eyes widened slightly and her lips parted. She quickly fixed her expression, catching her own candicy after the fact. She was left red and consumed. "I..." She blinked. "I..." A smile crept on her lips. Before she could answer, a wave of amusement seemed to come from nowhere and overtake her. She started off with stifled giggles, but they soon erupted into genuine laughter. Xavier smiled for a moment, waiting to see if the apparent joke would dawn on him too, but when he did not laugh, he felt himself become unnerved. She seemed to realize her poor timing, because she forced an apology out between giggles, but soon fell back into a state of continuous laughter. "Wow, that's pretty cold." He tried to sound cool, as if he had shrugged it off, but there was still a chill to his tone. "No... No... I am so.... I am sorry." She was quickly getting herself back under control. "I really didn't mean it like that. I swear." She struggled to catch her breath. "That was just... Oh my God, Xavier, don't do that again, I almost freakin' peed myself." "... Why?" She looked at him with a sympathetic deadpan. "Look, it wasn't like... you or anything. It was just, the situation. It was too much. It's like... that happened so fast. And I mean, of all the things you could have said..." She smiled to herself in mock amusement. "Oh. Well, I am sorry if I took it a little quick." He chuckled, trying to play his earlier offense off as tastefully as he could. "No, no, it's not your fault. It was a really... sweet way for you to follow that up. And, I mean, there is a chance I would have started laughing from... anything. It's just, I didn't expect that at all!" "... You didn't expect it? Well, if you didn't expect that, what exactly did you expect?" "What did I expect?" She was taken aback. "You can't ask me something like that! What am I supposed to say?" "What do you mean 'what are you supposed to say?'" He laughed. "Just answer honestly." "And what if I didn't know what to expect? What if I kinda felt like... it wasn't my job to know what was next. " She blushed and turned away from Xavier. "Oooh, I see. So all the pressure was on me." "You're one to complain." She looked at him with an eye brow raised. He laughed. "True." "You've got a lot to learn, Xavier." "Maybe. But it sounds like you do too, Erin. That expression you made when I asked, I kinda wanted to laugh myself." She turned to him with a frown and smacked him on the arm. "You should consider yourself lucky." She turned away again and crossed her arms. "Oh, I do. I do." "Oh? You do?" she glared at him with skepticism. "I wonder if its for the right reasons." "... What if I said it was for all of them? Instead of just the right ones?" She smiled softly and turned to face him. "Then I would say you're a fast learner."
  25. I've recently been feeling like writing again! Apologies for having abandoned my previous story about a certain bladder sprite. So here's my newest original fiction story, which will still probably be split into 'chapters'. I'm still keeping with the fantasy genre this time, but instead of cheeky sprites, you get demons and witches, and yet another begrudging relationship which seems to be a trope I enjoy. --- The streets of the world of demons were filled to the brim with the busy greedy people that inhabited it. With skins in various shades of reds, purples, and grays, feathered and fleshy wings, curled horns of various lengths, and pointed tails, the demons were certainly an unusual folk. The entire town road was lined with buildings made of brimstone bricks, and the vast majority of them were places of leisure - casinos full of gamblers, spas with magma baths and hot coal treatment, restaurants offering human flesh in a million different varieties, bars serving drinks hotter than fires, brothels where the succubi and incubi gave their sort of service to the others, and a few places that were pleasurable for devils moreso than to human readers, and are best left undescribed. Not a single citizen had to work, for their money was obtained from the souls of the damned that had no use for their worldly wealth anymore. Within one of the casinos, a crowd had gathered around a poker table, and whilst the majority of the devils there were townspeople, there was a particular guest of honor that had captured a few staring eyes. A girl sitting at the far end of the table was adorned in plenty of gold and silver and gemstones, with silken finery and leather sandals. But that wasn't the most unusual thing about her. Her skin was no common red or maroon, but a shiny jet-black, the color of soot. The webbing in her small wings and the color her irises were both highlighted in a royal violet, and these features, coupled with her outfit, made her easily identifiable as royalty. For she was Selehpot Sihpem, and anybody hearing her surname would know that she was the daughter of the Unholy One, the lord of the demonic realm, the most powerful black sorcerer currently in existence, and she was as respectable as her father, partly because of her nobility, partly because of her exotic and beautiful appearance, and partly because she was winning the game by far at the moment. This particularly astounded her fellow players, because this delicate-looking princess, with her fine wings, skinny figure and less-than-average stature, was evidently one of the best poker players Big Temohpab's Casino had ever seen. But unbeknownst to her fellows, she possessed some abilities that even they didn't, including a mystical charm that made them all so dumbfounded at her appearance that they didn't notice when she gazed around at all of their hands. She was a selfish free spirit, who had little respect for others, and simply loved winning, living in her luxuries, and the power and respect her position offered her. In fact, had anybody tried to raise her like a human, they would have found that even UK reality TV parenting specialist Supernanny couldn't handle a brat like that. But her father had ignored her for the better part of her childhood, and now, at sixteen, she was almost of age and almost ready to cast a hand into the ruling of the demonic plane. For now, however, she spent most of her days basking in the praise of the townspeople and wasting the dead's money on her simple pleasures. In fact, Selehpot had a bit of a hard time bringing herself away from these pleasures. She was royalty, and thus it wasn't often that she had to give anything up. But unfortunately, her own body put restrictions in place. Right now, her bladder seemed rather unhappy at her for consuming three glasses of Big T's Brimstone Brandy and then proceeding to play card games for two and a half hours. So reluctantly, she left the table after winning yet another round, and made her way to the bathrooms in the back of the place. Entering the single-stall bathroom, she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, and ever the vain type, she admired her ashen skin, as unblemished, dark, and lacking any visible hue as always, and her similarly colored hair, which was practically as silken as her clothes. Then, sighing, she reached down to pull down her silken skirt, which was as light and cool as the wind, and then immediately gasped and hiked it back up, for the state of the toilet was... well, let's just say that drunken demons aren't the most.... clean... people in the underworld. There was no way she could use this, not a chance. So frustrated, she stormed out of the room. A princess shouldn't have to be exposed to something like that. Her bladder was still filling by the minute, although at the moment, it was tolerable, and she could certainly move without even so much as having to grab herself. In fact, she figured that it really wouldn't be too hard to sit and play more poker for an hour. But she also wanted another herbal bath today, and another massage from that maidservant Natas, so she decided it was best to just return to the palace for now. The walk would only take ten minutes. The palace itself was situated in the centre of the town, made of obsidian and black stone, sitting atop a great rock and surrounded by a moat of magma. It was very intimidating, and the knowledge that she lived in it made Selehpot feel all warm inside. When eventually, she did get home, she breathed in the hot, hellish air (which was very refreshing for her kind), and made her way to her towers. There, in the luxurious chambers she changed out of her current outfit and donned a more casual home outfit, a black silken gown that was so thin it was translucent. In fact, with the heat, it might have been comfortable to just go around in the nude, but such a respectable person as herself would never do something like that. Then, finally ready to resolve herself of that annoying little problem in her lower abdomen, she wandered to her bathchambers, dismissed the servants who asked if she was ready for a bath, hiked her gown up to her waist and pulled her undergarments to her feet, and then she- -felt the room begin to shake. This, of course, was completely unexpected. Selehpot stood up, hurriedly pulling her clothes back on in confusion. She attempted to leave the bathroom to look out the window and see if the tower was collapsing or something like that, but found she couldn't move at all. This made her panic, and the princess started to shout for help. Her maids called back, but she had locked the door. She looked down, and to her horror, saw a magic circle about her feet. It began to spin and glow, and the servants' voices grew quieter and quieter, until they were a whisper and the room was only a faint memory, and she was soaring through a tunnel of shadows and lights, and she thought she was going to die, or worse, but it all ended rather suddenly when she felt herself fall onto a cold metal surface. She was too stunned to get up at first, so the first thing she heard was a voice. "Ah, excellent. A magnificent specimen." This prompted Selehpot to turn around, and gaze at the owner of the voice. It was a human, and a sorceress, judging by her ornately robes and hood. They were in a tower, it looked like, full of bookshelves and strange equipment and enchanted things - a wizard's home if she'd ever seen one. But probably the most prominent thing about the demon princess's new surroundings was that she was currently contained within a cage. Try as she might, none of her hellfire could melt it, her strong hands couldn't tear it, and she eventually started to swear at the mage in front of her, but that only prompted the woman to laugh. She was rather young, at least judging by her voice and shadowed face, although much of her appearance was obscured by her robes and cloak. "You're not going to escape that cage. And even if you did, you couldn't attack me or leave, because I summoned you. Like it or not, demon, you're my servant now, and you'll be doing whatever I tell you to do." This, of course, made Selehpot furious, and her curses grew worse and the rattling of the bars became louder. But the sorceress waved a hand, and the demon felt her entire body go limp, and she collapsed to the floor of the cage again. Standing up, she almost tried it again, but realized it would probably be a stupid idea. "I'm going to let you out, now." her captor said. "You wouldn't be of much use to me otherwise." Her voice sounded almost teasing, and it was infuriating. "I've got bookshelves that need dusting, and you should be able to reach them just fine with those wings of yours. The cage opened, and immediately, Selehpot flew at the sorceress, screaming, "Do you even know who I am, you peasant? I am the Unholy Heiress, Princess Selehpot Sihpem, and-", but didn't get any further than that before she was frozen in place and felt her voice break. "Completely under my control." reminded the mage. "Now. Bookshelves, my new servant. And make it quick, because I've got more work I don't really feel like doing!~" Selehpot stood up, and was at once reminded of that nagging little urge in her bladder as a small, tolerable wave of desperation hit her. "Can I at least-", she began to ask, but was interrupted. "We'll see how obedient you are first. I've no desire to endlessly torture you, so perhaps if you do what you're told, we can learn to be friends. After all, a familiar is a partner for life. And if I'm you're friend, I'll surely give you some privileges." She was definitely young. She didn't sound commanding like a superior, no. She sounded like a child enjoying a fun little game. In fact, Selehpot would go so far as to guess that their ages were similar. So that's how it was to be, thought the dishonored princess as she picked up a feather duster, trying to ignore her full bladder. Her, a princess! A princess among demons! And now, a silly witch's familiar, forced to work, and trying not to wet herself. How absolutely deplorable.
×
×
  • Create New...